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I rolled over into Phil's arms as the morning sun started to peak its head above the dark horizon outside of our window. I nuzzled into the the soft material of his pajama top, then lazily threw one bare leg over his. I cautiously opened my eyes, then stared up at him, only to see that his eyes were still closed. I was naked, cold, and needy, and I wanted cuddles. "Daddy." I whispered, reaching up with one hand to poke his cheek.
He jerked his head back at the light tap, but his eyes remained closed. I sighed, then rolled my eyes. I had to do all of the work around here, didn't I? I lifted my head from his chest and swiftly sat up and straddled his waist. "Daddy, Daddy, Daddy, Daddy." I repeated, poking his cheek in time with my whining.
"I'm up, now. Stop that." He ordered gruffly after the last poke, then slowly opened his eyes.
"Morning, Daddy!" I giggled cheerfully, laying my body across the length of his and moving my hands to cup his face instead. He reached his hands up to my waist and gripped my hips. I couldn't help myself from gently moving my hips against his as we laid there, which made him let out a growl.
He tightened his grip on my hips and held them in place, then began to plant kisses onto my neck in a warning. "Horny already, Baby? It's only seven in the morning." He commented slyly, bringing one hand up to hold the back of my neck.
"I'm not...I just want cuddles." I pouted, snuggling into his warm side.
"You aren't usually this clingy, Sweet. What's wrong, Baby?" He questioned, rubbing circles on my neck.
"I'm not pretty anymore, Daddy." I lamented softly, hiding my face in his chest.
"What do you mean you aren't pretty? You're the most beautiful baby boy I've ever laid eyes on." He objected, grabbing my chin with his thumb and index finger, then made me look up at him.
"My scar is ugly." I confessed, bringing up my hand to run across the long stripe that ran laterally on my lower abdomen.
"It's not ugly. It makes you unique and even more beautiful. It shows how strong my baby is." He argued, grabbing my wrist in one hand and letting go of my chin with the other. He rolled over onto his side, which left me laying on my side towards him. He reached down and grabbed my bum in his hands, then pulled me forward so that my one leg was wrapped around his waist while the other was trapped between his legs and the bed.
"Daddy..." I muttered softly as he began lightly running his hands against my bum, barely touching the skin. He pulled his hand away, then gently slapped my ass, just hard enough to make the flesh jiggle slightly. I let out another quite giggle, then he moved away from my ass in favor of wrapping his arms tightly around my midsection.
"My beautiful baby boy." Phil mumbled, pressing a kiss to my temple and squeezing me as he began to rock my body back and forth.
"Don't do that, Daddy!" I giggled, then tried to wriggle from his grip. "I might have an accident if you do that too hard."
"We wouldn't want that, now would we?" He chuckled back, squeezing me again lightly.
"If I pee, you're the one who has to change the sheets. Your call." I stated, knowing he would probably stop since it was still only 7 am.
"Uhh, fine!" He huffed, putting no pressure on my stomach. "It's too early for changing sheets and cleaning you up."
"Thank you, Daddy." I smiled back gratefully, moving my head so that I could plant a kiss on his cheek.
"You're welcome, Baby. I'm going to have to punish you though." He stated quietly, looking down into my face.
"Why?" I whined out, pouting and nuzzling my face back into his chest.
"Because, you know that you aren't allowed to say mean things about yourself." He explained sternly, running his fingers softly up and down my back.
"Meanie." I frowned, my voice muffled against his skin.
"Yep, that's me. Mean Daddy." He chuckled, squeezing my body and making me squirm.
"Stop!" I moaned, raising my face off of his chest and glaring at him.
He only smiled fondly down at me. "Come on. Get up. You're going to go to the bathroom, and I'm going to make us some breakfast." He snickered, then quickly delivered a slap to my ass, which made me squeal and shimmy away from him.
"Mean." I declared again, sulking and sitting up in the bed.
---
I sat on the floor of the living room after breakfast, my crayons and pencils spread out across the rug and my color pages strewn across the floor. I was animatedly working on filling in dinosaur when Phil came in with some work things and his laptop, then settled down into a chair, his legs spread in a way that said, 'This place is mine and I'm going to claim it.' He let me color in silence for a few moments more, then suddenly broke the silence with a strange request.
"On the couch." He ordered from across the room, not even looking up from his laptop. His fingers moved quickly across the keyboard as he typed. "Jerk yourself off. You can't leave the couch until I say so." He added casually.
"But, D-Daddy!" I whined, dragging myself up from the floor and plopping myself onto one of the cushions. "I can't." I whimpered, looking down at my covered crotch. "Not in front of you..."
"Yes you can, Baby. If you can let me eat out your pretty little hole, you can jerk yourself off while I watch." He reassured me, leaving me indecisive.
"What did I even do?" I questioned with a huff, crossing my arms over my chest like a brat.
"You called yourself ugly earlier, so I figured if you don't like your body, it should be put on display for me to see when I want, since I love it so much." He explained, briefly meeting my eyes as he looked up then back down quickly.
On one hand, I could refuse to do it, just say the safe word and that would be that. On another, I could just sit in the couch all day and avoid doing it until he left the room to use the bathroom or something. My last option was just doing it. Whipping out my dick right there and jerking myself off like a shameless teenager right in front of him.
I spared a glance in his direction, letting my eyes slip over his position. He was leaned back in his chair with his laptop on three-quarters of his lap and a folder spread open across the keyboard and the remainder of his thighs. His hair was messy and pushed back from our earlier passionate kissing, and he was wearing his glasses, which were falling down to the tip of his nose and were on the verge of falling off of his face. He looked tired though, and stressed out. He looked like a Daddy who was going to spank his baby into complying if they didn't do what he wanted.
He looked up and met my eyes through the lenses of his glasses. I shivered. "You aren't leaving the couch until you do it, Daniel." He reminded me, starting on another email, I presumed.
I debated for only a second longer, then brought my hands down to the waistband of my boxers that I had put on before we ate. I hooked my fingers inside of the waistband, then dragged them down my legs after I lifted up my hips. I gently lifted up the hem of my shirt, exposing my soft cock to the slightly cold air of the room. I shivered, looked over at Phil one last time, then hesitantly gripped myself in my fist.
A few moments later, after experimentally squeezing and palming my length, it finally began to harden. I brought my hand up to my mouth and spat, seeing as Phil didn't provide me any lube. I brought my hand back down, then wrapped my fingers around the base and gave it a light squeeze before beginning, then let out a little moan. At a slow pace, I began pumping my cock up and down, working it over at a tortuous tempo.
A heat began bubbling in my stomach, causing me to close my eyes and tilt back my head. I let out grunts and mewled pitifully for my daddy, but whenever I looked at him, he was just sitting there, typing away on his laptop. My hips began to swivel around, my body trying to escape the pleasure, but I found myself thrusting them forward, seeking my hand then pulling away from it. I began to stroke myself faster, my pace changing rapidly from long, languid strokes, to a fast-paced motion so quick, my hand became a blur. Moans and "Oh fuck, fuck, fuck!"s left my mouth almost constantly as I chased my high, my body practically bouncing up and down on the couch.
"You close, baby?" Phil asked from his chair, his voice not even sounding vaguely interested as he briefly looked in my direction.
"Yes, Daddy!" I responded, panting with spit running down my chin and covering my lips.
"Good. Stop." He ordered, not even looking up.
"What?" I exclaimed, not sure if I heard him correctly. I kept stroking, although my pace was slower.
"You heard Daddy. Now be a good boy and stop." He repeated gruffly, his voice lower and words slower.
"Daddy!" I whined, reluctantly removing my hand from my aching length. My hips bucked forward, chasing the source of pleasure as it pulled away. I grabbed a fistful of my shirt, then pulled it up to wipe the spit from my face.
"That's it, Darling. I'll take care of you later." He assured me, clicking on a few things on his laptop before pushing his glasses up from where they had started to fall off of his nose.
"Why couldn't you help me now?" I pouted, feeling my cock deflate and the ache in my balls intensify.
"Because, this is a punishment." He concluded, his tone clipped.
"That still wasn't nice."
"I know," he sighed, closing and setting the laptop on the floor, "I'm a meanie. Now put on your boxers and come sit on Mean Daddy's lap."
I picked up the boxers from the floor and gently dragged them up my legs, careful to not brush them too harshly against my softening erection. I slowly walked over to Phil, and stood in front of him for a few seconds before sitting down on his thighs and leaning my head back against his shoulder. I scooted back so that my body was molded to his, and he wrapped his arms around my front. I reached for his hands and started playing with his fingers and squeezing his palms. It was calming.
He moved his head so his lips were beside my ear, then whispered, "Can Daddy do something, Love?"
"What, Daddy?" I asked, swirling my body so that I could face him.
"Can I take some pretty pictures of you, Doll?" He questioned, suggestively running his index finger inside of the waistband of my boxers.
"Okay." I breathed out shallowly as his finger ran over my hip.
"Good boy." He muttered, reaching up his hand to run his fingers through my hair. "Do you think you can go to our room and put on something nice for me, hmm? Maybe something frilly with lace?"
"Yes, Daddy." I answered, holding back a whimper at his dominant but gentle tone. I clutched my hands into tight fists in order to keep myself from getting too excited yet. God knows he'd probably just deny me again.
"So obedient." He chuckled quietly, leaning his head closer to me and nipping at my ear. He gave my neck a few closed mouth kisses, then moved back up to my ear. "Go." He ordered in a whisper, his voice dripping with pure lust.
I scrambled from his lap, my body springing into action as soon as he gave direction. I could hear him snicker while I made my way to the hallway, almost tripping in the process. Really it was pathetic how quickly I followed his orders, but I couldn't bring myself to care. I practically ran to our room, then began digging around in our drawers to find something pretty to wear.
Eventually I came across a nice set of white lace panties with a ruffle across the waistband. They stood out nicely against my slightly tan skin, and I figured Phil would probably like them. I pulled off my shirt and boxers, then threw them into the laundry basket. I carefully stepped into the parities, one leg at a time, then pulled them gingerly up my hips.
I walked over to the mirror we had resting against the wall and examined my appearance, then cringed when I noticed that the waistband didn't come up to cover my scar. I ran my fingers over the pale indent in my side with a sigh. It was smooth under my fingers, and I wanted it gone.
I continued to stare at the white scar with pure malice, and was very surprised when two hands wrapped around my waist and gripped my wrists, holding them tightly to my stomach. I gasped out, then hesitantly looked up into the mirror to meet Phil's eyes in our reflection. His light blue irises burned into mine, and my breath was caught in my throat. "You're beautiful." He firmly stated, the words harsh, but slow. He meant it.
"I'm really not." I whispered back, lowering my gaze back to the scar.
He let out a loud, annoyed sigh, then started to drag my body backwards, forcing me to walk with him. He let go of me once we got to the bed, then let out a huff and pushed me down to sit. "Stay right there." He ordered, then ran out of the room.
He was gone for a few minutes, but I sat there patiently, picking at the ruffles on the panties. When he came back, he had a camera around his neck, his power drill under his arm, screws in his mouth, and a large mirror, one that had been attached to the top of my old dresser and hid half of his face with its large size, balanced in his arms. I stared at him in curiosity but didn't say anything, knowing he wouldn't be able respond.
He set the mirror down gently on the floor, then put the drill and camera on the bedside table. He took a moment to get collected, then picked up the mirror and balanced it on the bed and retrieved the drill from the table. He hoisted himself onto the bed, then picked up the mirror and positioned it flat against the ceiling above the bed. "Help me hold this, Baby." He requested, his words muffled around the screws in his mouth.
I quickly complied, standing on the bed and holding half of the mirror firm against the ceiling. "What about the deposit?" I asked quietly as he took a screw out of his mouth and positioned it in a bracket that would hold the mirror up.
"Fuck the deposit." He responded gruffly, then screwed the one corner to the ceiling before I could convince him otherwise. I only sighed, but said nothing as he repeated the action on the other brackets, firmly holding the mirror up.
Once the mirror was finished, he threw the drill onto the floor with a thump, then stepped off of the bed. "Go ahead and lay down." He requested, his voice softer.
I did as he said, and laid down on the sheets, shivering for my lack of clothing. He picked up the camera, then stood over me, his eyes roaming over my body. He turned on the camera, then leaned down and ran his hand over my hip, then traced over my scar. I cringed and tried to shuffle away from his touch, but he only shushed me and repeated his actions. "Do you feel pretty, Baby?" He asked.
"No." I answered honestly, closing my eyes and letting out a whimper.
"Well, look up, Love." He whispered.
I looked up at the ceiling, and gasped at my reflection in the mirror. I could see all of my body, and I let my eyes trail over my hips, then let them travel to my face. I gazed up and looked at every detail of my body, staring in fascination. I had never seen myself like this before.
"Can I take a picture, Baby?" He asked, interrupting me.
I nodded, not saying anything and returning my eyes to the mirror. He chuckled, then went about posing my body for me, readjusting my arms and legs. "Can you close your eyes?" He asked, taking a few pictures from different angles. I complied, and even arched my back a bit. "So good for me." He complimented, snapping a few more photos.
"Can we be done, Daddy?" I asked, opening my eyes. I wanted the photo shoot to be over so I could see what else Phil had planned.
"Of course, Love." He said, taking the camera from around his neck and shutting it off. He placed it on the table again, then stripped off his shirt and pants, leaving him in his boxers. I stared at him as he removed his clothes, then blushed and looked away after he caught me looking at his chest. "You can stare all you want. I don't mind, Sweetheart." He chuckled, moving to kneel between my legs on the bed.
I spread my legs out further, leaving him ample room to get as close to me as he liked. He gripped my ankles loosely, then ran his hands up my legs as he pushed himself even further forward. I could feel myself getting harder as his hands roamed. He stopped once his hands were on my thighs, but kept his grip strong and laid down on his stomach, his face only a few inches from my crotch.
He trailed his fingers smoothly up over the lace of the panties, then brushed them softly against my clothed erection that was leaking against my stomach. "I'm taking these off." He mumbled, hooking his fingers into the waistband of the underwear and started to tug down. I lifted my hips, which aided him in removing them, and once they were around my thighs, he stopped and leaned forward to plant a kiss onto my hip.
My entire body shivered, at the warmth from the kiss, and I glanced up at the mirror, admiring the way my muscles tended then relaxed. He moved his lips and trailed a string of kisses from my hip to my inner thigh, his nose briefly brushing the base of my dick. I gasped, then tightly grasped onto the sheets, pulling the material tightly between my fingers.
"I'm going to blow you, Darling. Is that okay?" Phil questioned, looking up at me through his dark lashes from his position between my legs.
I nodded, but he gently slapped my thigh at my non-verbal reply. "Use your words." He ordered softly.
"Yes, Daddy. I'd love it." I panted, my eyes glazing slightly as I imagined Phil's lips on me.
"Good boy." He purred, then slid his body up a little further so he wouldn't strain his neck to reach me. He licked a quick strip around the base, then pulled away and met my eyes once more. "But I want you to look at how pretty you are in the mirror while I'm doing it."
"O-Okay." I stuttered out, then let my gaze flutter up to the mirror.
I watched as he moved his head to take my tip into his mouth, then groaned and threw my head back into the pillows as the wet heat of his mouth started to envelope me. I forced my eyes back open, and looked up at myself, admiring the way my mouth hung open just right and how deep my collarbones dipped. I threw a hand down to tug at Phil's hair, but he pulled off of me with a pop, then looked up into my eyes.
"No touching, Baby." He ordered firmly, then went back down on me, leaving me spluttering for air. I knotted my hands in the duvet once again, holding on so tightly that my knuckles turned white. He took me all the way down to my base, which wasn't really that hard, but still, I was blown away. He sealed around me, constricting his throat and mouth, make me let out a grunt as my eyes rolled back.
I watched his head bob up and down in the mirror, and I felt his hands reposition from my thighs up to my waist, pinning me down effectively so I couldn't buck up into his mouth. I whined and bunched more of the covers in my hands. My face was best red, and as Phil ran his tongue directly under the head of my length, I knew I was done for.
"Daddy!" I whimpered, making him wrap his lips tightly around me as he pulled off.
"Yes, Love?" He asked, leaning on his elbow and stroking me as we made eye contact.
"Can I cum?" I begged, my voice desperate as my hips tried to furiously cant up and off of the mattress.
"Hmm..." He contemplated, stroking me a few times more. "Answer this first: are you my pretty boy?"
"Yes!" I moaned, squirming under him.
"Say it." He commanded, an evil smirk across his face as he lightly squeezed me in his hand.
"I'm your pretty boy!" I cried out, hoping that it would be enough.
"Go ahead, I suppose." He granted, a smirk covering his face as I shuddered under his touch. My body stiffened, and my thighs quivered for a moment, then I felt the heat rush through me, causing me to let out a yelp as I came. I spurted all over my stomach, making a mess.
"Thank you, Daddy." I whispered, closing my eyes in fatigue. That had really taken the life out of me.
"Your welcome, Baby. Shut your eyes. Daddy will clean you up." He reassured me, gently rubbing my thighs and pulling the fairly sweaty panties down the rest of my legs. "I love you." He added, pressing another soft kiss to my hip.
"I love you too." I sighed out blissfully.
I would always be Daddy's pretty boy.