Punish her for not making you cum

Her face flustered as she rode harder, with a sense of purpose to get you off. "Fuck my little pussy, daddy!" Her words rang loud, and her eyes glazed with tears from the sexual aggression you were showing her.

You squeeze down on the young girl's flesh. There is no remorse or pity for the girl. It was pure lustful pleasure as you pumped hard into her young womb. You have total and complete control over your stripper for hire. And your heart beats faster, loving this total control.

The only thing left is to cum and fill the little slut's uterus with your spunk. But you don't want to do that. Instead, you flip her over her knee.

You thought about Elsa dancing with the men out there. The stripper cheeks act like a stand-in as you smack them hard, and you can enjoy the way they wobble and shake in your palm.

The girl lets out a loud cry. Her yelps of pain feel like music to your ear. Your palm print forms on her ass, and she tries her best not to complain. But a slight whisper escapes from her mouth: "D-daddy no." Her eyes were glossy as her young features softened, and as the word Daddy escaped her mouth, you were not mad; instead, you were very happy, and you smacked her one more time for her to understand her place.

You couldn't spank Elsa like this; you knew you'd have to use your words to tame the beast within her and straighten the rebellious path she is leading. You keep that reminder in the back of your head.

"You belong to Daddy, right, bitch." The sting of your spank is still burning. "Don't lie to me. Speak, my pretty little slut." You had nothing but venom in your voice.

She winced in pain. Her breathing was heavy, and tears started to drop down on the velvet chair. "Yes daddy. I'm just your slut. My pussy's not safe for anything but your cock. P-please stop. Don't hit me so hard... I-I-I promise I-I'm your slut, b-but..."

Your hand pulled down hard on her hair, almost ripping it out of her scalp. You shut her up and silence the brat's whining as a painful gasp escapes her throat. Her perfect body is now lying limp against yours as she weakly cries. You kept quiet, and the only thing that could be heard were her whimpers and soft cries as you give her a few more spanks.

You pull out your phone number and tell her to type in her number. You weren't through with her yet. You still have some pent-up, fatherly aggression.