Creative Juices

[Warning: Mature content]

My sexy kat is intelligent, fun loving, and has creative talent, all of which I admire. However, while I rarely experience creative blocks (because I have numerous creative outlets), sometimes it takes her awhile to get the creative juices flowing. And during the intermission between good and great ideas she has a tendency to get bored. And when kat gets bored she can become a pain in the ass.

Moving into a house with no memories of anyone’s ex took the usual amount of time and hassle, but was well worth it. It’s a fresh start for us in a place that will only house our loving and positive memories. But the time and effort needed to move took its toll on our creative needs, but in opposite ways. Kat’s creativity became constipated while mine wanted to spew forth.

I had ideas for poems, stories, scripts, and other written fare. I had ideas for comic gags and caricatures, figure art and other items of artistic abandon. And when I go longer than a week without playing my guitars, or longer than a day without sticks in my hand and drums before me to beat out a rockin’ groove with, I get more frustrated than a nymphomaniac stranded on a tropical island with both hands in casts and her only food a natural aphrodisiac.

Kat, on the other hand, was bored out of her gourd.

With peripheral vision I saw kat peeking around the door frame just before she let out an exasperated sigh.

“Writer’s block,” I said, without looking up from the computer screen as my fingers tapped away.

She came over, wrapped her arms around me from behind, and placed her head next to mine.

“How’d you guess?” she said, peering over my shoulder.

“A good Daddy knows his girl inside and out.”

“Does a good Daddy know how to get his girl’s creative juices flowing again?”

“Yes,” I said. “But first he lets her try to discover the wealth of hidden ideas within herself.”

“How long must she endure that torture before Daddy helps?” She moved her lips close enough to brush my ear. “And is there anything I can do to encourage his intervention quicker?”

She nuzzled my neck and ear, dropping butterfly kisses here and there.

“It shouldn’t be torture to find the well-spring of ideas within you,” I said. “But if you leave me alone long enough to organize the ideas I have, I’ll help you later.”


“Only if you promise to stop interrupting me.”

“Okay.” She stood, and moved toward the door.

“Not good enough, baby,” I said. “I want to hear you say it.”

“I promise to stop bugging you.” She came back to me and placed a kiss on my cheek. “Is that better?”

“It’ll do.” I patted her ass and returned my focus to the computer.

Forty-seven minutes later, kat broke her promise for the first time. I was at my artist’s table fleshing out some ideas when she entered and went through a similar routine as her initial interruption. And it ended about the same, with me pointing out her broken promise, getting her to promise again, showing some affection, and watching her depart.

I sketched a storyboard for a humorous video I wanted to accompany an original song when kat interrupted thirty-two minutes after the last interruption. This went similar to the other interruptions; with a stern warning thrown in, plus a prolonged kiss—because we have a rule to never forego affection under any circumstance.

Broken promise number three involved kat’s interruption as I played the guitar, practicing the tune I was going to use for the video, and recording it to find out its playing time. And broken promise number four came approximately twenty minutes later when she heard me practicing the drum beat, grooves, and fills for the song.

“May I stay here?” said kat. “You know I love to watch you play.”

“Well, I’m not going to have you make another false promise,” I said. “You’ve already broken four promises is just over two hours.”

“Sorry,” kat said sheepishly.

I couldn’t help but notice, she looked so sexy in her t-shirt and panties—her normal at-home attire.

“You know you’ve got consequences coming for each broken promise.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“We’ll get to the consequences later,” I said. “I want to get this drum piece recorded before I take a break, so you might as well take your panties off and hop aboard the best seat in the house.” And she did.

Knowing her Daddy is an ass man, kat turned away before slowly easing her panties down, allowing me an unobstructed view of the curvy and tight little ass I love to spend hours pleasuring. She then came over and climbed onto my lap as I sat on the drum throne, then wrapped her legs around my waist and her arms around my neck…but not too tight. I had to have room to play. But it’s a position we’ve often enjoyed, along with her facing away, and my cock planted deep in her pussy or ass—giving a completely different meaning to the rhythm method.

With no more interruptions I quickly accomplished my tasks. And with my mind free of the creative urgency, I quickly realized that kat’s warmth, touch, and intoxicating essence had created another need. So I dropped the drumsticks into a leather sheath attached to the floor tom, swiveled to the right and shut down the home recording studio equipment, swiveled back around while cupping my hands underneath kat’s ass cheeks, interlocking the fingers, and lifted her as I stood and headed out the door. And she squeezed her arms a little tighter, while resting her head in the crook of my neck.

Upon entering the Master bedroom I let kat down and told her to pick three additional implements for her punishment. She knew why I said, “additional,” because I always begin with flesh-on-flesh. The intimacy of my hand against her ass cheeks—spanking, massaging, putting on lotion, as well as after care—is a big turn-on for us both, and sets the intimate mood, plus increases arousal, and is always used for both pleasure and punishment sessions.

She chose a small leather paddle, one of my belts, and a custom leather strap that I hand-tooled and decorated specifically for her. And she looked my way to get the okay that she’d chosen appropriately, and I nodded. So she carried them to the foot of the bed, laid them in order, and then bent over the bed, arms out, between the posts.


I moved slowly but deliberately with each preparation, making sure to pause between tasks to allow her arousal and anticipation levels to increase. And for punishment sessions she knows she’s forbidden to speak unless spoken to. And she remained perfectly still as I selected velvet cords and bound her outstretched arms by the wrist to the bedposts, and eased a black silk scarf over her eyes and secured it from behind.

“Four infractions, baby,” I said. “Four broken promises in a very short time.”

I didn’t have to expound further, kat knew what that meant. She was to receive five groupings of spankings, four for the amount of infractions, and an additional grouping as a warning against further infractions. And for minor offenses—like she knew I was categorizing these, since they only involved interrupting me—she knew the additional group of spanking would be flesh-on-flesh. If it had been a serious offense the grouping would be administered with the harshest implement.

Spanks per grouping equally vary depending upon the severity of the offense: anywhere from 10-to-25 per grouping. And ten per grouping is plenty for her present infractions.

After the prolonged preparation period—including several minutes silently gazing upon my cherished sub, increasing my arousal along with hers—I began administering the initial grouping. The loud smack of my hand upon her bare bottom was a welcomed invasion to the deafening silence during preparation, just as the contrasting sting brought an immediate response from kat. It was not a pain to shy away from, but one that she willingly embraced. The arousal and anticipation had become so great that she craved the pain-filled pleasure that would bring the release she so desperately needed. So I continued.

After each grouping I would tenderly massage and kneed the fevered flesh, allowing time for the endorphins to work throughout her body. And I would dab on lotion with vitamin E and aloe as a protective prevention for her skin. And while her butt cheeks rested before the next grouping was administered I would continue to build her arousal. I fondled, fingered, caressed, pinched, and played with her as I chose. Yes, it was pleasurable for me, but its purpose was to increase the release of dopamine—the pleasure hormone—so it would work with the endorphins, allowing her to endure, and enjoy, the remainder of the session. And there was still a lot to come…and cum.

Each grouping was administered slightly harder than the previous as I transitioned from hand to the leather paddle, then to the belt, and finally to the leather strap. And the arousing manipulations between each grouping equally increased in length, along with stimulating orgasms.


Upon completion of the third grouping, as her fevered butt cheeks cooled, I inflamed her passion by stimulating her pussy and clit. She yearned for release. She arched her back, stuck out her ass, and moaned and whimpered at every touch. And I finally allowed her some release. I shoved in a vibrator and slowly increased the penetration and fingered her clit until she exploded…then left it inside her while I began spanking her with the belt for the fourth grouping.

When the fourth grouping was finished I again increased the stimulation, but this time paid particular attention to her tight little asshole. And during the process I put in a butt-plug, and again stimulated her pussy and clit, and turned on the vibrator—spiraling it on and around her G-spot—allowing the multiple stimulation to build until she screamed and shot her juices. The sounds and sight of her writhing body heightened my arousal; my cock stood at attention, ready to salute.

With vibrator and plug still in her, I administered the final grouping. The leather strap making a resounding “thwack” with each spank, and kat’s oohhs, aahhs, whimpers, and moans elevated my arousal to the point I wanted to pounce on my omega like she was in heat. In fact, I was so aroused that I postponed the massage and lotion upon completion of the spanking. I grabbed a fistful of kat’s hair, bent down, and spoke:

“Tell me what you want,” I said, making sure she felt my hot breath.

“Fuck me, Daddy.”

“You can do better than that,” I said, and tightened my grip on her hair and slapped her ass.

“F-Fuck my ass, Daddy,” she said breathlessly. “Fuck my ass hard with your throbbing cock.”

That’s just what I did. I removed the plug…ever-so-slowly… positioned the head of my cock snug against her anus, teased her awhile, and then slammed it home. Then continued with a slow deep pounding for several minutes until she came again before increasing the rhythm, and a couple minutes before I came I turned on the vibrator in her pussy to add stimulation, then fucked her ass hard until we both came.


The punishment session was over, but the pleasure would continue…and in some very creative ways.

Yep, when kat gets bored she can become a pain in the ass, so I simply return the favor, which never fails to get her juices flowing.

6 thoughts on “Creative Juices

  1. I don’t know about “creative” juices, but your story has certainly caused another kind of juice to flow, Daddy. ☺️ Don’t be surprised if you get interrupted again … soon. ❤

    Liked by 1 person

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