“Happy Birthday Mister,” my little girl leaned over from her place in the passenger seat of my car and kissed me. The embrace began in a chaste manner, no more than a brush on my lips, but soon became more insistent, passionate, lust-fuelled … it always did. She was my fantasy girl, my soul mate, my lover, she had been ever since we first met in the pub near her university. What I, a middle-aged general surgeon, had done to deserve the full attention of this gorgeous second year history student I had no idea … but from that very first ‘session’ in the woods, we had been together … more or less.
And now here we were. The car was parked in the allotted spots and it was time.
“You sure you want to do this?” I asked.
“Yep,” she said without hesitation smirking just a little as she looked straight ahead and wiggled her hips provocatively. I glanced down at her lap at the point where her hands were bunching the material either side of her short, thin Spring dress. In seconds her white lace thong was off and being held up for me to take.
“There you go mister, you’ll be wanting these I guess?” she was giggling now, I loved her so damn much.
“Are you excited Little One?”
“Yep.”
“Are you turned on?”
“Yes.”
“Shall we go?”
“Fuck, yeah!”
She laughed and I joined in.
As we walked across the grass the mist of the early morning still swirled around our feet, mine protected by boots, hers bare. We held hands, fingers entwined as I glanced to my side and smiled at her, she returned the smile and pushed her shoulder playfully into mine.
“What?” She chuckled.
“Nothing …” I grinned back, before adding. “It’s just that this is the best birthday present I have ever had. Thank you.”
We stopped, kissed, and hugged and she replied, “You’re more than welcome mister.”
And she meant it.
We soon reached the posts. It was 6:30 am and the site was deserted, and it was likely, that being a weekday morning, it would not be busy … my Little Girl could be the only volunteer today. I hoped so. All attention from whatever audience was to gather, would be on her. My perfect slut.
“This one, I think.” She chose her post, rough-hewn wood, large self-locking iron manacles.
I nodded, “If you’re sure,” I replied.
“Bloody hell it’s chilly,” she shivered, pulling the dress up and over her head. After folding the garment and placing it in my bag I took her into my arms and held her naked body until the trembling stopped.
“Better?”
“Yes”
“Excited?”
“Yep.”
“Scared?”
“So fucking much, and I fucking love it mister.” I laughed. She was wild and I loved her for it.
“Ready?”
She nodded. No words.
Backing up to the chosen post I angled my head and raised my eyebrows. “Really?” I questioned.
Once again, she nodded, and with a provocative grin said, “It’s your birthday mister.”
And so, pulling her arms high to her head I fastened her into the post with her back to the rugged timber. She was to endure the whipping on the front of her body. I loved this Little Girl so much!
“Kiss me mister.”
I obliged and then some, as our tongues danced and my hand cupped her breast.
“Now go, and make sure you get a great view!”
I nodded, kissed her once more and left to wait the hour before today’s appointed whip-master or mistress arrived.
The Little Girl shackled to the post is of course sweet @Peony - I will therefore leave it to her to decide whether she wishes to share the actual whipping itself with you all