So my hands obeyed. They obeyed very well, and in moments my Daddy's cock was in my hands, hard as a rock. My hands didn't think; they just started ...troking as I'd stroked so many men in the past few months. Sir pulled Dad's head off his cock, still holding firmly to the sides so I could not be seen. A few moments of gasping and my Dad started to moan because of my handjob. My Dad has an average length but thin cock, and it was easy to lube it up with spit from my now drooling mouth. Sir. I want to hear you say it.” My mouth moved, but I struggled to find the oxygen to speak. “I’m…s-s-” “Say ‘I’m sorry, Daddy.’” You urged me, your voice all too calm. “I’m s-sorry…Daddy,” I whined out, my hands tensing and grabbing at the bedsheets, still trapped beneath your knees. “’I’ll follow your orders.’” You continued, your hand unwavering from my throat. “I’ll,” I wheezed out, my eyes slipping closed, “follow your…o-order-s…” I finally stammered out, and you released me, straightening. More

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