Up until this moment, Zoey had taken her ability to speak for granted. Her mouth had always been a part of her that opened or closed at will. She might even sing while being strapped, or make a joke to distract Daddy while he tugged down her panties. She would eagerly open her mouth to take candy from Daddy's fingers or to suck and nuzzle eagerly whatever he might slide between her lips. She could laugh, pout or cry out in pain in her attempts to slow down or speed up the hairbrush. But for now, she was silenced. Daddy had just placed his palm across her lips, his hand covered her mouth and his forefinger and thumb formed a vee beside her nose. Her breathing slowed down, and her eyes suddenly felt heavy and dropped down in shame. She was going to be punished, and not only did her bottom belong to her Daddy, so did her mouth and her words and even her thoughts. His hand moved away, yet her mouth remained closed as he told her to bend over for the caning. She looked pleadingly at him, and sniffed as her eyes searched his face for some indication that he understood her fear. He turned to look at the spot where she was suppose to stand, bend forward, to await the first stroke from his cane. She was thankful that she felt deserving. To be caned in a fit of struggle, feeling tossed and free to move about, makes the pain unpleasant and wild, like firecrackers tossed underfoot. She would be still, and silent, controlled, yet as he raised her skirt up and tugged down her panties, she turned momentarily to look at him, snuffling a cry of protest. Yet, when the swish of cane whirled overhead, she presented her bottom bravely. She lowered her back into the salacious curve of surrender. Her bottom tensed slightly then reopened as the first wheal heated and reddened. With the memory of his hand still over her mouth she breathed deeply through her nose. As the cane marks gathered one below the other, moving lower and lower across her cheeks, her silence became a blanket. It warmed her thoughts, and tickled her exposed sex, and deadened the pain. The silence filled her ears, filled her lungs, and gave her calm. It was over. Daddy rubbed her bottom and hugged her closely and she nuzzled her nose into his neck. She was hungry for him and slid her body down to kneel before him, eagerly opening her mouth to taste him. She wanted to be filled with him. He put his palm across her lips, his hand covered her mouth and his forefinger and thumb formed a vee beside her nose. Her eyes lifted up to look into his, trying to understand what he wanted her to do. With a single sniff and nod, she realized. He was going to fill her, she would swallow him, but not with her mouth. Again she presented her bottom bravely as he pushed his way into her punishment hole. The cane marks still hot and tender pressed against his skin. The searing jab from hard rod gently suckled by her softest most sensitive bottom mouth. Her silence broken with sharp gasps of lust and a thought tickles her mind and momentarily a light shines brightly behind her eyes as she sees the climatic truth. All of her belongs to Daddy. |