Daddy's Girl Ch. 01byWFEATHER©
I stood beside the bed, Ember's fists pulling at the bedspread and her legs tightly encircling my waist as I plunged deep into her body again and again and again. Each forceful thrust caused her smallish breasts to shimmy wonderfully atop her chest, the connecting chain and the tightly-affixed golden clamps being jostled sufficiently to cause her facial expression to display an equal mixture of pleasure and pain. Her short, hard, loud breaths signaled that she was close, so very close, to the release she desired, the release that would claim her senses in the same way that I was claiming her body, but the twin points of pain were performing well in delaying that release.
That was exactly what I wanted, for while she was certainly receiving some level of pleasure, this experience was actually my baby girl's punishment.
I had long had an interest in BDSM, and had sometimes dominated several girlfriends, both in college and beyond. But those relationships eventually ended, twice because I was being relocated and the girlfriend at the time was unwilling to make the move with me. Fortunately, all those relationships had ended on a positive note, and I am still friends with all of them, although our contacts are very scant nowadays.
Shortly after I had moved to the outskirts of this college town, I decided to do something I had not done in several years: visit a chat room. There had been three chat rooms I would frequent on occasion, so I returned to the one I had last remembered visiting, and, to my surprise, there were several people online who remembered me.
As the evening wore on, I noticed the new people joining the discussions, and I quickly read their profiles. One of them had apparently done the same, for I soon received a private message from someone with the username "Ember:"
Welcome to our little town. I see from your IP address that you use the same ISP I do. I also get the feeling from your profile and your demeanor that you are more of a "polite and nice" Dom, not a hardcore Dom. Perhaps we can chat? That is part of what I am looking for – online certainly, but perhaps also offline.
I could not believe my eyes. I must have read that private message five times before I looked at her profile again. According to her profile, she was a college sophomore... and since there was only one college in the area, I knew exactly where she was studying. She claimed to look fifteen, with fantasies of being a "Daddy's girl."
I thought about that for a moment before I even attempted to send a private reply to her. My sister had been a "Daddy's girl," which in her case simply meant that she much preferred to spend time with our father, fishing and working on the cars and watching football and boxing... all things I did not particularly do other than occasionally watching football. Yet, for this "Ember" to evoke that particular phrase in a BDSM-themed chat room intrigued me; certainly, she had to be using a different definition of the phrase.
Let's chat. I must admit, you've piqued my interest.
A moment later, a system message appeared on the screen:
You have been granted temporary access to Ember's Bedroom.
Ember left the main discussion, and a few moments later, I politely excused myself and did the same. Toggling between the house map (a house was the metaphor for the chat room program) and the command-line interface, I made my way to Ember's Bedroom, making a show of knocking at the door.
You didn't need to knock, I gave you temporary access.
That may be true, but I don't believe in entering a young woman's private abode uninvited when I have never been there before.
The next statement on my screen was exactly what I had hoped to see:
The description of Ember's Bedroom read like an author's description of a teenage girl's bedroom. The carpet, walls, and ceiling were all an off-white color, but baby blue was clearly the dominant color of the bedroom. The closet door was open, displaying numerous frilly dresses and appropriate accessories. There were several posters on the walls and the closet door displaying members of boy bands and a few admittedly beautiful actresses and singers, and – which surprised me nicely – a few posters of young women holding each other intimately or kissing.
Nice posters, especially the one with the two Asian babes kissing in the bubble bath.
Our discussion began in earnest. Ember asked a number of questions about me in general, and eventually turned the conversation toward my interests in BDSM, and asked for some details of how I had played with my former girlfriends. She certainly had an inquisitive mind, evident in the types of questions she was asking. But I definitely understood: If she wanted someone who might dominate her in reality, not just online, she needed to assure herself that I would truly be compatible with her wants and needs.
Eventually, it was time for me to ask Ember about herself. She had grown up in Florida and come up north for college. She had never known her father, as he had died in a severe car accident; the news of his death had sent her mother into premature labor, which probably accounted for Ember's short height, which she listed as "an even five feet tall when wearing heels." She had always loved the attention older men gave her when she was a teenager, and eventually found herself emulating that lifestyle somewhat. Frilly dresses were her favorite clothes, although she did have other clothing that could reveal her sexual side, clothing reserved for the right person.
When I finally asked about what "Daddy's girl" meant to her, she was clear. She wanted a lightly-dominant man who would view her more as a daughter than simply a sub or a slave. Ember had never had much discipline growing up, so she admitted that she would need to be punished on occasion, probably to make up for that "lack" from her younger days. Yet she also wanted to be able to express herself freely, to live out her fantasy in reality, something she was not truly able to do while living with a roommate in the college dorms. Most importantly, she wanted and needed to finally have a father figure in her life, one who was also willing to expand her meager knowledge of the BDSM realm.
With a yawn, I realized that nearly two hours had passed, yet Ember intrigued me. We made a "date" to meet in Ember's Bedroom again a few nights later.
Our online meetings were wonderful. We truly came to know each other, our likes and dislikes. I quickly became her "Daddy" and she assumed the role of my "baby girl." Being twelve years her senior, I theoretically could have been her biological Daddy, and perhaps that is why I truly did begin to see her not just as a young woman, but as a daughter of sorts. In some ways, she was the sister I never had, as my own sister had really been much more of a tomboy than a typical girl.
To our online meetings, we soon added e-mails. Ember was particularly thrilled with a Hello Kitty e-card I sent her early one morning before heading off to work. I soon found myself using the Webmail feature to access my personal e-mail from the office, hoping to find even just a short note from Ember to help alleviate the stress of the workday.
Actual letters soon followed, and her first letter included a picture of her. It had been taken at a campus Halloween party, and she was dressed as a cheerleader in the style of the local high school, pompoms in the air with her right leg in a high kick toward the camera, providing a very nice view of her white panty underneath the pleated red-and-black miniskirt. There was a particular joy in her face, as if this was one of those rare moments when she truly could be the girl of her fantasy, dressing as the fifteen-year-old girl who inhabited her soul.
At last, we decided to meet. To my surprise, she suggested that we meet at my home, which I felt was rather unusual for a first face-to-face meeting. Instead, I suggested we meet at a favorite coffee shop near campus, and then retire to my place if we felt so inclined; fortunately, Ember agreed.
I had just parked the car when I saw her in my peripheral vision, rounding the edge of the building. Ember indeed looked like she was only fifteen years old. The short cut of her hair, the "baby" quality of her face, the innocent sparkles in her eyes, the extremely scant makeup, her (lack of) height, and the nearly-hidden swells upon her chest all contributed to the fifteen-year-old image she felt compelled to portray. She wore a white blouse, the cups and straps of her bra just slightly visible even at this distance. Her baby blue miniskirt revealed a fair amount of leg for someone of her short stature. The simple small hoop earrings, the friendship bracelet, the white anklet socks, and the tennis shoes nicely completed her jailbait image.
Seeing me as I stepped out of the car, Ember closed the distance between us rather quickly, knocking me backward into the driver's door as she hugged me. Her laughter of delight was infectious, which helped me to ignore the looks of disbelief we were certainly receiving from the passersby or the staff and the customers inside the coffee shop.
As we enjoyed our drinks and shared an overpriced piece of chocolate cake, it became very clear that Ember and I were meant to be together. The time passed quickly, the conversation pausing only when we both happened to be eating or drinking at the same time. At least two complete sets of patrons came and went before we finally stood to leave.
Standing outside, I gave Ember the decision: "Shall I drop you off on campus somewhere, or shall we go to my place?"
Her answer was immediate and enthusiastic: "To your place, Daddy!"
For the first time since we had met in person, she referred to me as "Daddy." I gazed into her eyes and the sparkles seemed to be even brighter.
"My baby girl wants to go home?"
"Yes, Daddy, please!"
"Then let's go."
The drive to my house was still full of chatter, but we both felt an electricity surrounding us. We were nearing my neighborhood when I suggested she reach underneath the passenger seat. I watched with one eye as she retrieved the plastic bag and pulled it out from between her legs. Looking inside, she practically shrieked with delight as she withdrew the stuffed Hello Kitty doll.
"If I knew it wouldn't get us killed, I'd kiss you right now, Daddy!!!"
I could only grin from ear to ear.
Ember clutched Hello Kitty to her chest for the rest of the ride, continuing to hold the stuffed doll to her as I showed her around the house. Her eyes drank everything in with a sense of wonder.
"An actual fireplace," she observed aloud when we returned to the living room. "I've always wanted to live in a house with a fireplace."
"It's only useful in the winter," I admitted, "but I can still enjoy a fireplace any time of the year."
She watched me inquisitively as I opened a drawer in the entertainment cabinet and pulled out a DVD. Turning on the DVD player and the TV, I inserted the disc and sat on the sofa. Without hesitation, she joined me, but surprised me a bit by sitting not beside me, but in my lap, at last setting Hello Kitty down beside us on the sofa.
The sight and sounds of a roaring fireplace appeared on the large TV screen. "They make DVDs of fireplaces?" Ember asked with disbelief.
"Sure," I replied, "but I simply happened upon it once in the bargain bin at a store I would frequent before I moved here. I don't think this is something the average person would actually seek to buy, but once I saw it, I knew that I should get it, that it was something unique. And now I use it whenever I feel the need to sit by the fire, but it's obviously too warm still to be using the fireplace itself."
She leaned into my chest and rested her head upon my shoulder, her arms around my neck. I held her, Ember, my baby girl, watching her as she watched the flames on the screen. "Do you have any incense? Pine, perhaps?"
"No," I replied, confused by the question. "Why do you ask?"
"Well, if you had incense in scents typically associated with fireplace wood, it would make the experience even better. I know where to get incense fairly cheaply. I'll get some for you, Daddy."
"Thank you. That's very sweet of you."
We sat there for a long time, both of us watching the videotaped fireplace as I caressed her chastely and kissed her hair. Having the opportunity to spend some quiet time with Ember and finally physically hold her made her fantasy all the more real for me, and I realized that even though we had just met in person for the first time just hours earlier, I truly cared for her. It was too soon to tell if I was truly falling in love with her, but I certainly cared for her and wanted the best for her, almost as if she was truly my own flesh and blood, my own daughter, my own baby girl.
"This feels so right, Daddy," she whispered into my neck. "I just knew that you were the one when I saw your profile online."
"This feels right to me as well," I replied quietly. "I honestly didn't know I wanted my own baby girl until you and I started chatting that night. I just hope I can live up to your expectations."
"You already have, Daddy," Ember assured me with a smile. "You already have."
A long, comfortable silence passed, and soon I realized that my baby girl was asleep. Carefully, I stood and carried her upstairs to the guest bedroom, depositing her cautiously upon the large bed. I retrieved a thin blanket from the closet and covered her small frame, then stood in the doorway and watched her sleep.
I was definitely enjoying having my own baby girl. Simply holding her and watching her sleep had already done wonders for my mind and for my heart.
I was fixing stir-fry when I next saw her, rubbing sleep from her eyes as she meandered into the kitchen. Even with her somewhat-wrinkled clothes, she still looked quite beautiful in a jailbait kind of way.
Our dinner conversation turned back to what we wanted and expected from our clearly-developing relationship. That discussion soon turned to BDSM, an area which Ember wanted to explore and which she wanted to be part of her discipline when punishment was deemed necessary. That particular branch of the discussion lasted several weeks before we were finally ready to experiment, and for the first time, my baby girl stood nude before me, her perfectly shaved legs and mons further adding credence to her self-image as an innocent young girl.
From there, our relationship seemed to deepen and expand. Ember would spend more and more time with me, especially during weekends. I would occasionally take a day off specifically to spend time with her – we would go watch a film together, visit a museum, go to an amusement park, or even just shop together.
As our relationship evolved, so did the punishments. At first, I would simply send Ember
"to your room!" That soon gave way to standing in the corner with her nose to the wall. But soon I would pull her down across my thighs and spank her, an act which I had learned with a former girlfriend was quite a turn-on for me. In time, my hand was replaced with my belt, which Ember was required to remove first and hand to me, and then replace through my belt loops when the punishment had ended. The next level was for Ember to lift her ever-present skirt or dress and drop her panties, which gave me an additional thrill as I watched her fleshy rear transition from pale white to various shades of red. Even more creative punishments were devised from there.
Over time, the guest bedroom truly became her domain, essentially Ember's Bedroom transported from the virtual world into the real world. And by the start of her senior year of college, Ember was truly living with me, taking full control of the guest bedroom. We usually slept in our separate bedrooms, but occasionally the fantasy would break down and we would touch each other intimately or engage in a bondage scenario or even make love well into the night.
It was roughly the fourth week of the spring semester when Ember came to dinner with a sad expression upon her face. At her side, she held some papers in her hand, and sadly handed them to me without even looking me in the eyes. "You always wanted to know how I'm doing with my studies," she said quietly. "I just hope you're not too upset."
This was quite a surprise to me. I motioned for her to sit at the table. She did not touch her food or her wine. Instead, she folded her hands in her lap, looking down at the spaghetti and garlic bread as if she was watching a favorite pet being put down.
I finally looked at the papers. It was an exam. She had received a respectable grade, but she had clearly crossed out the red "B+" and replaced it with a blue "D-" instead. It took me a moment to realize that she wanted to be punished, and since I had not needed to punish her for anything in quite some time, this was Ember's way of essentially forcing my hand.
I had to admit to myself that my baby girl was indeed creative.
It took a moment for me to slip into the role of the angry parent. "Go to your room, now!" I demanded, pointing in the direction of the stairs. "And prepare yourself for the gold punishment!"
She gasped audibly, looking up at me with wide, pleading eyes. Punishment at that point in our relationship was typically a lengthy session with a paddle, or perhaps with a bullwhip, and usually while she was mostly or even fully naked. Ember certainly knew what the gold punishment entailed, and clearly she had not expected me to invoke the gold punishment for this situation. That was fine by me: If my baby girl wanted to be creative in forcing me to punish her, then I would be just as creative in the punishment I applied.
I ate only half-heartedly, and purposely did not touch the wine so that I was certain to be clear-headed. After putting away the leftovers and the dirty dishes, I finally mounted the stairs.
The gold punishment ensured great pleasure for me, but pleasure-laced pain for Ember, and when I opened her bedroom door, I found her properly prepared: kneeling upon the soft carpet with her wrists crossed behind her lower back, her barely-developed chest outthrust with the gold nipple clamps already applied, her breaths slow and shallow and deliberate in an attempt to not jostle the connected toothed devices and cause additional jolts of pain to wrack her senses. My baby girl looked up at me with tears welling in her eyes, the initial application of the gold clamps clearly rather hurtful even though it had been done by her own hands.
I closed the bedroom door loudly, the finality of the sound causing her to jump, the squeak spilling past her lips evidence of the resultant pain spiraling from her nipples outward due to that inadvertent action. I watched my baby girl watch me as I slowly undressed, already partially erect just from seeing her naked and vulnerable for me.
Without needing to be commanded, Ember crawled slowly forward, knelt again before me, and made love to me with her mouth. This was our "incest;" this was something we both needed from time to time, and it was a part of the gold punishment that tortured her sensitive buds, causing the tears to finally tumble down her cheeks as her head moved back and forth upon me with increasing speed.