Sore Loser

Literotic asexstories – Sore Loser by Sapphic_sapphire,Sapphic_sapphire
I am by no means a competitive person. However, the one thing that gets me incredibly bloodthirsty is video games. As my Dom will tell you, I go all out for a particular racing game. She had beaten me exactly 4 times out of hundreds of circuits, and I relish this fact. Every major holiday, every chance we get, we play this game. She is determined to kick my ass, and I’m determined to keep my (nearly) undefeated status. She has every other element of my life in the palm of her hand, but I have this one thing, and that makes it worth it. But, admittedly, sometimes I go just a little too far. I said a little too much, went just a little over the line, and believe me am I paying dearly for it.

It began as it always does, friendly back and forth. The same overconfident teasing from me, the same optimistic nihilism from her. We begin, race one of 8, and I smoke her by a mile. I tease her about all of her prior statements, how she’s off her game. I chuckle as she groans about how she’ll never hear the end of it. All is well, as it should be. Race 2, 3, 4 all end the same. I do my little happy dance, I comment how she’s playing like an old lady, and of course she retorts. Not with words. All she does is place a hand on my thigh. She squeezes lightly, trails up to my neck, and pauses. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here. You can celebrate, but don’t think for a second I’m going to let you drag me through the mud. check yourself little girl..”

I lose all of myself in that moment, being reminded for even a split second she allows me to have this moment. In this one case, she lets me have my ego trip. She lets me feel better. But, she and I both know when the game is over, the dynamic is very, very different.

I stumble over my words for at least 10-15 seconds. I’m trapped inward, thinking of how easily her hand at my throat could simply clinch. I think on the feeling that would provide, how helpless I already feel. Needless to say I was practically shaking.

Daddy begins the next race. By the final lap, I’m barely leading. By the end of the race i beat her by a car length. She groans yet again, I laugh it off. We both know I’m distracted, weakened but still able to function. Wordlessly, I begin the next race. As I do so, Daddy has her lips on my ear, nibbling on me, breathing forcefully. She whispers to me just as the loading screen ends “I know you want it. My hands, your throat. My teeth, your thighs…” My heart rate picks up, I swallow a moan, and I try my best to focus on the task at hand.

I lost the next race. No doubt because she had me so heavily enamoured. Daddy hops to her feet and gloats like she never has before. Says I must be rusty, says I must be losing my touch. I get frustrated with her, angry even. Under my breath I grumble “well if you hadn’t been teasing me..”

Daddy bends down to my level and picks up my face, squeezing slightly. I can’t look her in the eye. Daddy digs into my thighs with the other hand, “Look at me. Want to repeat that? And not under your breath like a bitch, please.” I lose all focus, the anger in her eyes forces me to shrink into myself. I can feel my very wet sex betraying me.

After a moment I regain the slightest bit of composure. I clear my throat, look just past her shoulder, and quietly utter “I would have won, but you knew that if you teased me you’d win.”

Daddy doesn’t like this, of course. “Are you accusing me of cheating?” She asks, the blue in her eyes a boiling lake.

“..no ma’am. Of course not.” I whisper as I look to the floor.

“If you’re going to make harsh statements like that, at least stand by them. Now I have twice the reason to hurt you. You know I let you have your fun, but my authority doesn’t stop when this console turns on. Calling me a slowpoke, saying I’m off my game, sure. But accusing me of cheating, then not even having the spine to hold to it? You deserve the worst I can provide..”

I beg her to let me, just this once, have grace. I beg her to forgive me. It falls on deaf ears. Daddy pulls me in by my hair, grumbling, “You were a sore loser. Soon, you’ll be sore. Nothing you can do can stop this baby girl..”

Daddy arises silently, her gaze piercing me. I’m frozen in place, a deer in headlights. “Pick a number between 1 and 10.”

“What’s this for?” I say, shrinking back further into the couch.

“No questions. Just a number.” Thinking this is her way of making me choose how many beatings she’ll give me at once, I go low. “2.” I say, hoping and praying my guess was right.

“Mmm, good choice. You get 2 minutes to touch yourself. Go fast, no slowing down or stopping or else my lovely paddle will hurt you til you cry. If you cum at the end, nothing happens. My paddle, my nails, my teeth, will leave you in peace. If you don’t, and knowing you this is impossible, you’ll get 20 floggings to the thighs and groin while I take my place on my throne. You’ll then make me cum twice. After I cum, I might give your pretty little pussy a kiss, or a lick, hell maybe I’ll edge you. If you touch yourself at all through any of this, you earn another 2 floggings for every second. After I’m done with your face, you may pick another number. Just hope the next challenge is as merciful as this..”

Before I have time to nod I see Daddy’s eyes narrow on me. She practically rips my shorts off of me, slaps my thighs, and bellows “Begin.” I frantically touch myself, barely meeting her gaze. Fear courses through me, only adding to my arousal. My fingers lose friction as I find myself soaked. Just as I am about to reach the peak, Daddy grips my wrist, tearing me away from myself. “Time. Now, remember what I said happens next if you don’t cum for me?”

Tears well in my eyes as I resign myself to my fate. I nod frantically, looking to the floor for comfort as I gather my thoughts for an apology. Just as I prepare to speak, Daddy’s hand covers my mouth. “You don’t need words anymore. You just need to pray you please me well like a good little fucktoy should.”

Daddy picks me up bridal style, places me on my feet, and huskily whispers in my ear: “kneel.” I freeze momentarily, I can feel her impatience building as I soak everything in. Her hot breath returns to my ear. “That means your knees will meet the floor. Do you know what a floor is, or do you need me to point?”

I drop to my knees as quickly as gravity will let me. I feel a hand on my back, travelling up to my neck, then my scalp. Daddy pulls on my hair, in what felt like she was attempting to raise me by my hair. I hold in my screams, though the tears ruin my makeup. She releases, and asks for my hair tie. I quickly provide it for her. She gingerly ties my hair in a bun, brushes the top of my head with her fingers, and says “wait for me right here. I’ll be right back with one of our favorite friends..”

Daddy returns with her favorite leather flogger in hand, slowly approaching me. She is no longer wearing anything below the belt. She stands over me, her pussy just meeting my mouth. “Please your owner, little toy. No touching yourself, no talking, no unwarranted noises.”

I get to work, my tongue just meeting her clit, her hair tickling my nose. I’m fighting myself not to moan just from her taste. Sweet and smooth, with just a punch of savory and bitter. I can feel my juices running down my thigh. I’m dripping onto my calves, and the cold sensation keeps me from drifting away. In this moment, I feel my only purpose is to provide my better with pleasure. But the urge to feel how wet I truly am grows ever stronger.

I settle in, closing my eyes to focus, my tongue picking up the pace, alternating between circling her clit and flicking side to side. Just as I hear her moan, I feel a sting across my back, as if hot coals briefly kissed my skin. My eyes fly open as I gasp in pain. Daddy reels in her flogger, preparing another strike. “Deep breaths or gasps, should count as noises, but I’ll allow it.. that’s one of 20.”

I continue, Daddy randomly scattering her swings. I lost track of time, and how many there have been. My knees begin to hurt from the hard vinyl of the floor, I begin to falter. Just as I want to scream, I feel her thighs tense. Daddy groans, pulling my hair up with her gaze as her head flies back. She cums standing over me, I of course continue through this whole process as best I can. Daddy chuckles to herself “I’m surprised you haven’t yelled yet, I pulled pretty hard..”

I nod, continuing. My knees attempting to buckle, but my determination, along with Daddy’s hand in my hair applying contant tension, keeping me upright. A minute or so later, I feel yet another strike across my back from her flogger. I fall to my side crying, unable to take the pain any longer, especially not with a third source.

“Are you tired, little toy? Do your knees hurt? Does your back and scalp burn? This is only half of what I felt when you accused me of cheating, I can assure you. But you’re only a third of the way there. Unlike you, I’ll play nice. You may lay on the couch.” As I nod in gratitude and rise to my feet, I’m pushed to the floor “crawl.” She says, not a hint of emotion in her voice.

I do as I am told, mount the couch, and lay on my back. Before she climbs over top of me, Daddy leans in, whispering in my ear “just so you know, I’ve already reached 36 floggings, and counting..”

Daddy mounts me, her pussy resting just above my face. I lap at her eagerly, again savoring her taste as I work toward a second orgasm. As she nears the edge, she clenches her thighs around my head, leaning over. Her face just barely apart from my aching, throbbing heat. Her breath driving my poor little clit mad. Daddy presses into my face, nearly cutting off access to air. All of this simply drives me insane. I pick up my pace, until finally, I hear her scream atop me. She slowly releases her death grip over me, samples my drenched pussy, and sits up.

“You’ve certainly done well. I’m honestly not inclined to give up that face just yet.. but, a promise is a promise, pick a number between 1 and 10..

Daddy dismounts me, turns to face me, stands, and crosses her arms, all is if to say ‘i’m all ears. don’t keep me waiting..”

I sit on my elbows and ponder for a few seconds on what this number could be attached to. If I say 9 will she say I have to make her cum 9 times? 9 minutes forced into a corner? 90 paddlings? If I say 5 will I only get 5 seconds to cum? What sort of hell will I unleash on myself? The mystery of it all is delicious torture as I hope and pray I don’t bring down the wrath of a god on myself, yet simultaneously hope she’ll ravage me.

“6” I say sheepishly, hoping for a happy medium

either way I get a relatively okay punishment, and maybe I’ll have decent chances of pleasure!

“You certainly have a way of making things hard on yourself don’t you?” Daddy laughs. She leans over me, using her foot to apply pressure on me until I crumble back to the floor. I’m flat on my back with no choice but to gaze upward at her. She kneels down, and says “you must’ve been under the impression that just because I let you pick another number, that i’d give you mercy, little girl. That just because you are skilled with your tongue, I’d let you off easy. My wrath hasn’t yet been satiated. You remember what you said to me?

“Yes ma’am..” I mutter under my breath, closing my eyes so not as to exacerbate my shame.

“Yes what?” She bellows, her left foot applying steady pressure to my stomach. My eyes shoot open as I yelp. I struggle to lift her foot, but it is, as usual, no use.

I desperately beg for mercy “please.. please stop..”

“yes what then?” Daddy says, her eyes boiling over.

“Y-yes Daddy. Please Daddy, stop it. it hurts..” My better relents, leaving me gasping and hunched over.

Daddy stands erect, pacing around my body. “6. Typically a great number in my opinion. Sounds like sex, first half of everyone’s favorite number (69), in this case, it might be your undoing.. to be fair I had this planned if you said either 6 or 9, just for 9 you had a little longer.”

“Wh-what are you going to do to me?” I ask, shaking in fear and arousal.

“Kneel.” Is all she said. I do my best to scramble to my knees as quickly as I can.

“Good, I’d hate to have to motivate you more than I already have..” she murmurs under her breath, lowering herself to sit in front of me, legs crossed.

“6 minutes. You have 6 minutes to make *me* cum. You may only use your tongue, and I’ll see to it that your hands are tied to your thighs just in case.. I promise during this whole process all I will do is pull your hair, maybe squeeze you with my thighs. For every minute you go over, I’ll paddle you 6 times on one cheek, then 9 on the other. But, seeing as I am merciful, I will let you pick which cheek is spared the worst.. After I’ve had my fun, you get 60 seconds of 69, and that tongue better not stop. If you cum, which I know you won’t, it’ll stop there. If you don’t, I get 9 minutes with your body to do as I please. If you make one out of line movement or sound, you get another minute added on.”

I sink slightly, my feet turned outward, my hands on my thighs, my back slightly hunched. My mind is racing. Daddy is putting me through these elaborate games with a little glimmer of hope I know is impossible to achieve. All of this cruelty, over what? A snide comment? My back still stings. My knees ache, my tongue feels strained. My scalp is burning, my sex throbs in desire so badly it hurts. All of these will only get worse as the night goes on. All I did was say she cheated at a children’s racing game… I feel like a little kid who just lost all of their money on a claw machine. Angry at the world. Angry at the machine, and how close I came so many times. Angry at whoever made the machine most of all.

So, naturally, I did something stupid.

Daddy stands wordlessly. She looks down at me as if she is gazing upon an unruly animal. I immediately feel a chill to my bones. She bends, caresses my hair momentarily, and picks up my flowing blue waves. She twists my hair around her hand, breathing over me heavily, as if a predator eyeing it’s trapped prey. She places her wrapped hand on the nape of my neck, then says, simply “lick. 6 minutes.”

I freeze up, as I often do in these situations. Fear is a powerful weapon, and unfortunately my first response is to fawn. My mind is trapped, thinking of how badly she could hurt me right now. Daddy doesn’t appreciate my lack of enthusiastic compliance. She doesn’t warn. She doesn’t play around. She simply pulls me by the hair until I’m ready to scream. She positions my face where she wants me, and places her hand still wrapped in me behind my head.

Jolted back to reality, I begin to lick. My anger still present just under the surface. Despite my tongue ravenously lapping at her, suggesting to her at least that I am obedient and eager to please right now, I’m simply biding my time. Her breath intensifies. Her thighs quiver. She seems so ready to burst it must drive her wild. The pain in my scalp keeps my mind present. Despite Daddy’s enthralling flavor, texture, and warmth, I’ve been driven to the point of wanting to fuck with her regardless.

So, I stop. I simply don’t finish. She is panting, she groans as if to say “get back to it, or else” but I don’t think she quite has the words yet. I look up, my face barely an inch from her sex, smiling.

She meets my gaze, her eyes like the arctic, and immediately I shrink back. “What have I done?” Is the exact thought that went through my head.

“Never thought I’d see the day my feeble minded, sorry little slut would rebel by trying to deny me pleasure. You really going to deny yourself the satisfaction of a good meal? Your favorite meal? You can turn back now, accept your place as my property, and maybe I’ll let you keep your scalp intact.. You still have a couple of minutes, choose wisely…”

I’m shaking, tears in my eyes. Still I try my best to hold my ground. I simply shut my eyes and shake my head as if to say “no thank you.”

“Can’t even tell me you want to be defiant to my face? Not even no? Just gonna shake your head and hope I accept that? Are you trying to feel the full force of my wrath?”

I break. My anger is subsiding and all I can feel is remorse, desolation. I feel like I just broke a family heirloom in a fit of rage, only to come down and realize I’ve only hurt myself.

I gaze forward, not daring meet her gaze. “Please. Please Daddy I can be good..”

“No. Actually, you can’t. That’s the best part, you’re pathetic when it counts. You take a train as far as it’ll go, but the second they ask for your ticket you hope they won’t notice you’re a stowaway. You tell me I cheated. You try to hide. You try to deny me, the most important person in your life your tongue. What do you do? You hide. You always want to be a brat, but hope to avoid the consequences of your actions.”

I lean into her, hoping for some amount of comfort. “Listen, and listen good.” Daddy growls, pulling me back by my hair. She squats to my eye level and holds me in place. “You, my dear, are rabbit who just fell into a wolves den. You then, rather than quietly slinking away, decided to kick the wolf in the face. Nothing can save you now.”

Daddy picks me up over her shoulder and takes me to the bedroom. She throws me to the bed, digs her nails into my thigh, grips my throat, and whispers “stay put. I’m not joking around..” I dare not move, not even to scratch an itch.

Daddy returns, an armful of toys with her. First, a gag, to prevent me from talking back. A blindfold, because she doesn’t want the guilt of seeing me cry. Rope, tying my wrists to my thighs so I can’t resist. Daddy places a plug in my ass, and after that I don’t hear much of anything. Her presence just.. ceased. I’m not sure how many minutes passed before I began to wonder if my punishment was solitude. It feels like hours at this point, but it could have easily been 5 minutes..

Out of nowhere I feel a breath on my stomach. I gasp audibly. Nothing follows. Maybe I imagined it.. a few moments later, another, this time over my clit. I struggle against my restraints to no avail. I cry out and submit myself to my fate. A couple more moments pass, and I’m met with an all too familiar pain. My neck is being torn into. Daddy’s teeth sink into me, she hardly wants to let go. I scream, though the gag hardly lets you know. I’m drooling on my gag as the pain arouses me further, my lack of control over my mouth driving me further into subspace.

I hear her move, stomping, as if she is purposely letting me know she is approaching. She hovers over my ear, her breath hot over it. I shiver. she says in a hushed, husky tone “i’ll be a merciful wolf, you’ll experience the joy of being touched, teased, then feel my fangs..” a hard object is pressed against my heat. My wand. Daddy turns it on, and leaves it there. Succumbing to the pleasure, I moan through my gag. Daddy twists my nipples, breaths on my neck, and tugs my hair regularly to keep me in the present.

I near orgasm. My legs tense, my breathing intensifies, my voice is becoming weak. Daddy turns off my vibe, leaving it in place to remind me what it could be doing. She laughs as I squirm. The pressure is driving me wild. I moan to announce my distaste, but Daddy doesn’t care. Within seconds I’m flipped to my stomach, my vibe replaced. Daddy bites my ass, waits for my cries to subside, and grips it with her hand. Whispering into my ear, she says “you denied me, so you’ll get it back tenfold. Every time you near the edge, you’ll be abused. If you only apologized harder, begged harder, this could have been avoided..”

A cold, sharp sensation grips me. My paddle. I can hear her swings, feel the impact sending shockwaves over me. She doesn’t relent. Alternating cheeks, she paddled me until my voice began to give, despite my gag she could hear my energy draining, my voice cracking. I’m crying, the tears soaking my blindfold. I know my ass is going to bruise, badly. I’ll be black and blue before she’s done

This process of edging, then paddling, continues for a few times. My body hates me, I can feel every hit after she finishes, and it feels like it all is just stacking. I did this to myself, hurt my owner, and that honestly hurts more than any paddle.

“Does it feel like I’m being cruel?” She smacks my ass. “Like this is overkill? Do you understand what you did wrong?”

All of this is happening over two missteps. I dare not nod, or otherwise answer. I just cry into my blindfold, and lay stoic.

Daddy leans in closer, growling, “Don’t you wish you could pick a number still? That you were obedient? I don’t take kindly to insolence.”

Daddy flips me over, the pain from my ass contacting the bed causing me to yelp. Her mouth just inches from my ear, she whispers, “Too bad i’m enjoying this too much, let’s hope you can still walk when I’m done..”

For a moment, all is eerily calm. I feel the warmth of Daddy’s hands as she gingerly massages my boobs. The longer she soothes my body, the more I’m terrified of what is to come. Given her prior threats, any amount of praise or pleasure absolutely must be accompanied by pain multiple times as intense. My body tenses in spite of her soothing touch, my jaw clenches.

Daddy sighs deeply, before asking “Am I not allowed to play with my toy how I like? Do I have to be constantly torturing you when you do something bad? Or do you really not like people being nice to you? I know best for you, relent and you might enjoy yourself..”

As she moves from my boobs to my shoulders, I slowly begin to yield. I resign myself to her will for me, which clearly isn’t one of pain at the moment.

Not 5 seconds after she notices I’ve relaxed, her hands leave my body. With a blindfold on I can only speculate what she is planning or doing in this moment. I hear clinking, though I can’t tell if she’s taking off her chain or getting chains ready for me. My fear builds, I’m tensing up again, my lip quivers, my thighs rub against each other like a cricket in midsummer. I hear drawers open and shut. Her breathing intensifies as she approaches.

My left nipple is in searing pain. I can’t tell if she’s pinching, pressing, clamping, or clipping them, but whatever the case, it hurts like hell. I scream, only to have my gagged mouth covered. My right nipple joins my left in misery. Daddy tugs on something attached to both of them, something heavy. She’s pulling nipple clamps down by the chain. Just as I identify the source of my misery, Daddy pulls me by my thigh restraints down, away from the pillows on her bed. She grips me by the hair in one hand, the other on my restraints, and twists me around. I inevitably scream in pain as my scalp burns. My head is hanging off of the bed now.

Something squishy, heavy, and dense smacks me across the face, hard. I was still reeling from her last maneuver, but the impact snaps me back into the moment. “What just hit me?” Is the only thought on my mind.

Before I can picture the answer, Daddy leans in, my nose meeting her nipple. She breaths over my boobs softly as she tugs lightly on my clamps, making me squirm as I try my best to handle myself. I cry out, only to again receive a hand over my mouth. “No more. If you can’t control that voice of yours I’ll have to keep you busy.”

She removes my gag, saliva dripping onto my face as she casts it aside. I close my mouth, only to have my cheeks squeezed. Daddy is forcing my mouth open. Again, my mouth is filled, this time with something that stretches me to my limit: an incredibly girthy dildo. Starting slowly, Daddy moves in and out, one hand on my throat, to remind me to stay still, to remind me who I belong to.

“That’s a good little fucktoy.” Daddy whispers “you’ve still got a lot of dildo left to throat. Do you like being my little cock whore?” I don’t dare answer, simply remaining still aside from my thighs rubbing together. The further Daddy goes into my throat, the slower she thrusts. It’s as if she wants me to feel it’s shear size, take in it’s glory. As she slows her pace, I begin to fight a gagging reflex. I of course, fail miserably, and my superior takes note nearly instantly.

Daddy bellows as she revels in my pathetic display, “You’ve certainly got a big mouth from the way you talk to me, but apparently it’s not nearly enough. You are hardly worthy to kiss this it seems, let alone be fucked by my perfect cock. Funny how 8 inches of silicone is better than you. This toy actually does what it’s supposed to do, nor does it quit working at the last second..”

Daddy slams her dildo down my throat, pushing it in, ensuring it stays put. I gag around it, struggle against her, yet she squeezes my throat, pushing me back into submission. I pray I don’t vomit, and relent all control. As soon as it started, it ends. Daddy rips her cock from my mouth, my saliva stringing off of it, some of which covers my face

A few moments pass, I take note of some rustling in the background. I patiently wait in fear as I await her next move. Much like the last time, I feel her hand squeeze my cheeks until I open, pressing her nails into the skin until it feels like it’ll bleed. The same dildo slides in, to the base, and I gag. Though I note it is attached to her crotch now, my nose tickling Daddy’s bush as she thrusts. Daddy doesn’t relent, quickly cycling in and out of my throat, one hand on my neck, the other teasing my clit. While she fucks my mouth, she chides me, saying, “this is what you deserve, not my pussy, not my fingers. You don’t deserve to feel my real body in you, just this fake cock. Take it well, and maybe you’ll cum..”

The fingers of one hand continue to circle my clit, her other slowly ramping up the pressure on my throat. As my breathing intensifies, my thighs press together, she picks up her pace. The feeling of her strap in my throat, stretching me, filling me to the brim, forcing my tongue away as it invades my body, belittles me actively. My mind fills with the knowledge that I am worthless in this moment. Pathetic, weak, fragile, redundant.

As I near the edge, I cry out, my thighs further tightening around her hand. I reach the mountain top, finally feel the glow of an orgasm, and just as I am about to pass the peak, it all stops. Daddy has pulled out, her tip resting on my lips., Her hand left my clit, though the other still grips me tightly. I’m at the point of no return, just over that peak, and she refuses to finish me off. I crumble as my orgasm, the first in too long, is ruined.

Daddy laughs, mocking me for thinking I’d get anything good out of tonight. She relents her grip on my neck, removes my blindfold, and stares down at me, forcing me to meet her gaze. “Understand what happens when you deny me pleasure now?”

Daddy turns, walking toward the door. I cry for her to help me out of my restraints, to come back and use me more, to let me pleasure her until I earn my freedom, yet it all falls on deaf ears. The door opens, the door closes, and I’m left all alone, forced to simmer in my shame.