Daddy's Girl

"Daddy's home!" he bellowed, slamming the door shut behind him.

I'd been napping on the sofa in one of the tunic & leggings sets he'd bought me to wear 'round the house. I had a bra on, but no panties. Having been awakened to bellowing and the slamming door, I startled and let go a small stream of pee that quickly soaked through my leggings and the couch cushion under me. "Dammit, Daddy," I wailed, jumping off the sofa, "you startled me and I wet, I hope the cushion's not ruined." I started to tear up as he looked at me quizzically.

"I startled you, girl? Were you not expecting me to come home?" He laughed.

"Of COURSE I expected you to come home, Daddy," I moved to hug him, pee-stained leggings and all, "I NEED you to come home. You know that. I just..." I buried my face in his chest and sobbed openly, not caring if I soaked the front of his dry-clean only baby blue button down shirt that looked so good with his dark blue suit.

"You've had a trying day, huh?" he asked. I didn't even bother to move my face out of his chest, I only half-muttered something about not having his after-work drink, a Limoncello martini, ready like he liked me to. He didn't seem to care, though, as he walked me upstairs to the bathroom to get me cleaned up. First he started the bath. Then, while the water was running, he undressed me. He knew I like the soothing sound of water running, liked to be undressed to that sound. My outfit went straight into the hamper, and when he threw it in there, he noticed my previous outfit from that same day, a similiar tunic & leggings getup, in there. "Two outfits in one day?" He asked, helping me into the tub. "What happened?"

"Yeah, about that," I said, easing into the warm water, "see, after you left for work I realized I didn't have anymore cigarettes. So I walked up to the avenue," the avenue, third avenue, was only two blocks from home, Daddy didn't mind my going up there alone, "to get cigarettes, only when I was on my way home from there, this guy was walking his dog," I started to cry again, but Daddy said nothing, he didn't have to...he already knew I was terrified of dogs, "was a big mean dog, Daddy," I continued.

"And that explains the first outfit," he said, soaping up the loofah to wash my back. "Tomorrow on my way to the train, I'll stop at the store and reimburse Abdul," Abdul was the Middle Eastern gentleman who owned and operated the tobacconist shop, "for your cigarettes," he said. Daddy knew I didn't like to carry money, and he was good about taking care of that stuff. He continued washing me, that felt very soothing.

I felt so much more relaxed after my bath, and Daddy chose a kimono for me to wear. It was very pretty, he'd picked it up in Japan's harikuju district while on business over there. Then he brushed my hair, oh good god I loved when he brushed my hair. Religious people talk about going into a trance during services. Well, I'm not religious, not in the least, but I go into a trance when Daddy brushes my hair. The outside world ceases to exist. But he's a man, not a machine, so he didn't brush my hair all night...it just FELT like all night.

Dressed in my kimono, my hair tied in a ponytail at the nape of my neck, my feet bare, I let Daddy lead me downstairs. "We'll deal with that later," he said, waving towards the sofa cushion I'd peed on. "I don't care if it is ruined, I'll buy you a new couch. I'll accommodate you in my study for now." I didn't usually GO in Daddy's study. That's where he worked on days when he worked from home, taking meetings via Skype on his giant TV screen, or going over contracts while seated behind his massive mahogany desk. Other times his brother would come over and the two of them would bury themselves in there, talking about whatever men discussed amongst themselves. Tonight it was her turn to go in there.

"Here you go, my dear," he said, sitting me down in the leather armchair.

"I didn't fix your drink," I started to chide myself, "I didn't start dinner, "I was asleep on the couch when you got home. I'm such a fat, lazy-"

"NO," he said firmly, taking my face gently in his hands, "you are not fat. You are my voluptuous princess and I adore every inch of your opulent physique. And you are anything but lazy. I will forgive you for speaking badly of yourself, THIS TIME, because you've had a trying day. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Daddy,".

"Good girl," he kissed me on the forehead, "besides, as MAN OF THE HOUSE, I'm not helpless, y'know. Put your feet up on the Ottoman while I fix my own drink and see about dinner, OK?" I put my feet up on the Ottoman while he left the study. I heard him go into the dining room, where the makeshift bar (well, it was technically a credenza, but they kept the few bottles and the cocktail shaker on top) also was. I heard the sound of ice being plinked into the shaker, he was making his own Limoncello martini. I smiled to myself. Of course he wasn't helpless. He's the man of the house, that and more. He's the man of my life, my Daddy Dominant, if not my legal husband.

Presently he returned to the study, martini in hand. His coat and tie had been removed, most likely draped over a dining room chair. His shirt had become not only untucked but also unbuttoned, revealing his glorious chest hair. He'd been naked from the waist up the first time we met, and all that chest hair had been one of the first things that attracted me to him. In his non-drinking hand, he held my cigarette case. The case was vintage, a very pretty Venetian design, yet another thing Daddy had bought just for me. He set his martini on the desk, popped the case open, and held it out to me. He really was such a gentleman. I of course accepted a cigarette and sat patiently for it to be lit.

"Now," he sat down behind the desk, fired up his computer, and reached for his martini, "do you wanna go out, I'll see if I can book us a table somewhere."

"I don't wanna put real clothes on," I said.

"And you know what," he said, "I don't want you to have to put real clothes on. The less you wear, the better. I'll just order sushi, it goes with your kimono," he smiled.

"You just think of everything," I laughed. He banged on the keyboard, and I knew he was placing our order online. As I finished my cigarette & we waited for our takeout to be delivered, he turned on Internet radio on the computer, sensual music by Carlos Santana, one of my all-time favorite guitarists.

"Well," he said, "I didn't want to tell you this until after dinner, but I thought to contact the warden up there in Ossining and make sure Tony got the papers."

"No," I said, "it's OK. I'm glad you took care of that. We both know I wouldn't have made that phone call myself." Tony was my legal husband, in name only. We hadn't lived as man and wife since...well, since before he went up to Ossining. Ossining is a town in upstate New York, a rather famous town. Or infamous town, I should say. Only thing really in Ossining is Sing Sing Correctional Facility, a maximum security prison owned and operated by the State of New York. And NO, Tony is not a corrections officer. He's a distinguished inmate. Distinguished in that if New York State ever brings back the death penalty, he's getting it, for the two cops he shot during a robbery gone bad. "Did he get the divorce papers?" I asked Daddy.

"Oh yeah," Daddy said, "Warden says divorce papers are considered a legal document, and legal documents are allowed. So he got them all right."

"Well good." I needed to be legally divorced from Tony in order to marry Daddy. I'm not religious, Daddy's not religious, if New York was a common law state like, say, Pennsylvania, it wouldn't matter. But it does. And anyway, what Babygirl doesn't wanna stand up in City Hall and marry her Daddy? The doorbell rang, announcing the arrival of the sushi. "I wanna answer the door!" I shouted, jumping up from my chair.

"Ohhhhh no," Daddy stopped me, "you're not properly dressed. Stay put." He sat me back down and went to answer the door himself. "That's what you get," he called over his shoulder, "for not wanting to put on real clothes." He returned moments later, bearing a bag laden with food. He pulled the Ottoman out from under my feet and sat himself on it, his legs spread wide. "Open wide," he said, offering me a bite of spring roll.

"Oh, for you I'll even say Ah," I opened wide and he fed me spring roll. He always fed me. Never in an 'I want you fat, fatter, fattest' way, more in an 'I want to do for you, take care of you' way, which I love. There was no more talk of Tony. Tony was in his cell at Sing Sing, he had the divorce papers I'd sent him, all he had to do was sign them.

"This, this right here, this is everything that matters," I told Daddy after we finished dinner. By then he'd re-commandeered his leather armchair and I sat in his lap. His dress slacks were off, crumpled on the floor. Oh, he still had boxers on, lovely silk boxers that really enveloped his buttocks beautifully. He didn't like when I said he has a beautiful buttocks; something about it's not manly to have a beautiful butt. I couldn't help myself though, my Daddy had the the best ass ever and if I wanted to talk about it, I'd talk about it goddamn it. I was sitting sideways in his lap, my kimono riding up, and I planted an open-lip kiss on his mouth while I felt his fingers run up my inner thigh. "You wanna go upstairs?" I asked.

"Uh-uh," he muttered, "I wanna take you right here." With that, he lifted me up.

"Oh, my big strong man," I cooed.

"That's right, Baby," he carried me over to the desk, "I got work to do." He kicked the chair out from behind the desk, bent me over it, and hiked up my kimono, his thickness flopping out of those boxer shorts. "Hold on." My arms out in front of me, I held on tight while Daddy lifted my hips and ass until he had me in a proper wheelbarrow position. "Oh, that's good," he growled as he entered me from behind, "been dreaming about this all damn day at work." I knew the rhythm of his body and was moving in tune with him...this was our song, this was the music only we knew. He thrust into me and bounced us around until my kimono worked itself untied, at which point he slid a hand up to my breast. "Aw, yeah, so soft for Daddy." His breath was hot when he kissed the side of my neck. Soon I was wet AGAIN, in the best of ways, and moaning for him never to stop.

Daddy wore the kimono after we made love, wore it flapping open like a bathrobe, and carried my naked and still quivering body up to the bedroom. "So tell me, Baby, are you having a good night with Daddy?"

"Best night ever," I insisted. "Everything I need, you give me. And everything I never even realized I need, you give me that too." I grinned up at him as he laid me gently in bed.

"I have one more thing to give you tonight," he said, smiling, "stay." He left me on the bed and crossed to the armoire. What could he possibly give me from there? Only thing in there was his clothes. But he pulled a flat box, a box that looked about the size of a book, from somewhere in the armoire's recesses, and came back to bed with it. "Open it," he commanded, a gleam in his eye. So I opened, and was utterly shocked to find within that box the most stunningly gorgeous ruby choker ever. The one I'd once admired at Chopard's when we were first dating. I didn't think he remembered. I admired anything ruby, that being my birthstone.

"But it's not my birthday," I said, "so what's the occasion?"

"I know Tony hasn't signed the papers," he said softly, "but he got 'em, and in my mind he's as good as signed them. So while we may not be able to go down to City Hall just yet, I want...no, I NEED to give you your permanent collar right this minute. If you'll spend forever with me, that is."

"You silly man," I laughed, "you don't need to put any rubies 'round my throat. YOU HAVE ME. You had me the day I first saw you," I rubbed his glorious chest hair, "I knew I was done for that very first day," so yeah, yeah I'll spend forever with you. Even if this," I waved the collar at him, "goes back to Chopard's."

"Chopard's don't want it back. and even if they did, they can't have it." He took it from my hand and started to put it on me.

"It's too much, I can't wear it everyday," I protested.

"It's for evening," he said, "wear it to bed. Oh look, we're in a bed now," he kissed my left breast.

"Must've cost a fortune," I said, "if this is the collar, what are you gonna do when we actually go down to City Hall?"

"How do you feel about a matching snake bracelet?" he whispered, kissing me lower down on my belly.