Dreaming of Sugardaddy

I dream of a love so strange and bold,
A sugardaddy, my heart does hold.
He keeps me like a little pet,
In cute and soft clothes, a curious set.

Lingerie mixed with my little girl's attire,
He wants perfection, my every desire.
For business and men, our home does see,
He wants me perfect, for all to see.

My hands, they're chained, but just a little space,
To lift my skirt, show my daddy's embrace.
Kneeling by his feet, or chained so tight,
Under his desk, I'm hidden from sight.

At the perfect height, he takes control,
Takes my mouth, as desires unfold.
In his office, he straps me down,
Skirt flipped up, meetings abound.

If meetings go well, fingers may touch,
My ass and my pussy, oh, how much.
But if they go bad, he shows his might,
Fucks me, a spectacle, under the light.

When he's done with me, I'm naked and bare,
Guided to my cage, for moments to spare.
Holes ready, in case I am called,
I wait for his needs, fully enthralled.

In public, he binds me with intricate grace,
Hands together, nipple piercings embrace.
Tiny skirts, no panties, my attire so bold,
An object on display, as the story unfolds.

His office too becomes a secret place,
Bending for coworkers, without a trace.
Legs spread, boss kneels low,
"What's it cunt look like?" he wants to know.

Men in the office, they touch and feel,
Women spit on my face, a truth surreal.
My daddy wipes their spit, with love in his voice,
They're just jealous, he says, it's their own choice.

I'm his little doll, a toy to play,
With love and darkness, day after day.
But deep inside, amidst all the lust,
I long for love, and in it I'll trust.