Daddy's Princess Ch. 01

"What would we have done without the internet?"

How many people have asked that question? How many lovers have asked it, wrapped in each other's arms? And how many, like us, have had desires that the vanilla world condemns and yet have found their release, their soul-mate through the net?

So here you are, standing in front of me; still clothed from the outside, looking up at me....nervous, excited, aroused, scared. Only inches remain between us, a slight gap filled with conversations where we have replayed this meeting so often. We have repeatedly confessed hearts thick with anticipation, hungered for the first touch, the consummation of our hopes.

"So," I smile "here we are."

It's impossible not to say something ordinary, but the moment is too rich with significance for that to matter.

You nod agreement, and swallow. You are silent with letting go, finally here with the man who reads your heart and fires your mind. You want, need, crave to be acceptable, and you flood to over flowing with your slave hunger.

I reach out and cup your cheek, captured by the soft warmth of you, the reality of you. Without thinking, your face leans into my hold, your eyes glistening with tears.

What was it you said? "I've spent so much of my life believing that I'm not meant to be happy."

And now, finally, happiness is touching you, and you believe it.

Tears of sadness for the past, happiness for the future, and relief for the present glisten on your eyelashes. I lean down to you and kiss the tears away, tasting your salt, drinking in your scent.

I've heard the whimper you give so often on the phone, but to hear it so clear and close transforms it, and this time I can respond the way I have longed to do so often. I gather you in my arms and press you to me...my lips driving onto yours, my tongue urgent with possession. We have bridged the gap of nervous anticipation, and at last we can let ourselves live the dream.

Even through your coat I can feel your soft curves, your eager flesh as it moulds to me. Fire ignites fire as we kiss, our bodies swelling and opening in desire. All the words we have spoken, the hopes we have shared come to life in us now. It would be so very easy just to fuck, here in the living room, just lose ourselves in the basic act. But there will be so much more time for that. You are here for the weekend, for more than forty-eight hours of private pleasure.

Still....I feel a traitor to myself, pulling back and looking down at you.

"Not yet my little princess. First, you must get changed and prepare yourself.

You look up at me, lost and sad, wanting, but knowing that you cannot refuse me. You bite your bottom lip, suppressing a pout, and pick up your bag.

"Through that door into the bedroom. Don't be long."

As your head to the room where you will shed your vanilla skin, I can't resist spanking your arse just the once. I feel its contours, its textures, and I feel my answering arousal.

You look back, smile once, and step into the next room, quietly shutting the door behind you.

As I wait, pacing the flat like a tiger scenting fresh meat at the water hole, you stand and breath deeply, calming yourself. The spank had jolted you, reminding you of the real reason you are here....to be my submissive slave.

The room is small.... space enough for a double bed, a wardrobe and some boxes. The wardrobe grabs your attention. On the front it is hung with floggers, paddles, a cane and crops. On the side there are collars, handcuffs and knives. The whole is neat, laid out like a workshop. Their positioning is balanced and ordered; a place for everything and everything in its place. You shudder...knowing that most if not all of these implements will be used on you during the weekend. And in their blatant display you feel yourself submitting, accepting my right to choose what I do and how I do it.

And even as you gaze at each instrument of my control, you note the items I have told you about but are which not visible; the ropes, the chains, the spreader bar, the violet wand. Your pussy tingles and moistens in anticipation.

You turn to the bed where you have placed your suitcase. You open it, looking at the clothes you have brought for the weekend, garments chosen to display your body and incite my lust. For this first session you lay out a Morgan t-shirt and a short black skirt. Your shoes are to be a pair of black ankle strap high heels.

Swiftly you strip off your clothes. Your newly shaven cunt still feels cool to the air, and the wetness from our earlier kiss is slightly sticky. Your nipples harden in the cold air, reaching out to me. You look down at your curves and pray that I will be happy with what I see. Your breasts are heavy on your slight frame, and you hips curve seductively. Under 5 foot, you are all woman with a rich hour glass figure. Your hair is short but thick. Your legs are slim and you know that in high heels you always get a second glance from men as you walk by.

And yet, you still worry that you aren't good enough, despite my reassurances that all we have shared has convinced me that you the one I have been looking for.

The skirt sits on your hips, the hem brushing your mid thighs. The tee-shirt moulds to you like a lover's hunger. As you do up the straps on your shoes and check the nail varnish, you run your fingers over the ankle chain. Soon after we had started talking I had requested that you wear a bracelet round your ankle. Since then, it had been a perpetual reminder of your heart's bondage to me. You are my little princess, but you are also my slave, and proud of it.

At the door you pause one last time. The butterflies in your tummy threaten to break out and engulf you. In obedience to my requirements, you pull your shoulders back, stand tall, and stalk into the living room.

I am seated in the recliner, a book in my hand. But as I look up, you feel that buzz of connection.

My eyes and my smile say it all. I like what I see and I am devouring you with my gaze.

"Stand in the middle of the room facing me. I want your legs apart with your feet in line with your shoulders. Place your hands on your head with your elbows out and look straight ahead. You will not say a word unless asked a question."

My commands are abrupt and brook no hesitation. Swiftly you adopt the position, designed to display you and leave you open to my inspection.

Your breasts are lifted to me and your naked cunt is still seeping. The scent of your body's heat permeates the air.

I stand, taking my time, and place the book to one side. You are rooted to the spot, wanting only to please me. Hoping that I will find you good enough.

I walk around you, taking my time to look at the pretty butterfly caught on the pin of my dominance. I am standing behind you when you catch the caress of my breath on your neck. I have leaned in close and I am whispering into your ear.

"Well done my little princess, you look absolutely delightful, and I can smell your pussy juices from here."

Your blush deeply at the coarseness of my words, feeling their truth trickling down your thighs.

Standing now to one side, I reach out and cup a breast through the thin fabric, squeezing it and lifting it. You hear me hum in appreciation. That same hand slides down to your exposed belly, then slides under the t-shirt back up to the waiting globe. The feel of my cool palm on your skin makes you gasp, and your legs almost buckle as I squeeze you again, possessing you casually.

"Beautiful" I murmur, and then pinch the nipple until you whimper.

But still, you keep standing, your hands on your head, willing yourself to suffer what I do and so please me.

My other hand now strokes an exposed thigh, a thumb brushing under the hem of the skirt. Up I explore, initially along the outside, but curving round the back of the leg as I move towards your crotch, my fingers slipping up between your shivering legs. When my forefinger connects with the swollen wetness of your labia you feel an electric shock jerk up from the point of contact into your belly then up until lodging at the base of your skull. You swallow, struggling to maintain your composure, feeling a growing need to be taken and roughly used.

I give a low laugh at the proof of your hunger.

"Soon my little fuck toy; soon you will spread those delightful legs and welcome me into the core of you. But first, I have a present for you."

You can't help turning your head and looking up at me.

"Keep looking ahead, and soon you will know what I have for you."

Your heart thuds more rapidly, and the tension and nerves flood back through you. What have I got for you? But you keep your head facing forward as you hear me unwrap something behind you.

The moment of realisation strikes when you feel the leather at your throat. Standing behind you, I have reached forward and encircled your neck with a band. I pull it snug and push the catch through the appropriate hole. You hear the click of the padlock....and you know that you have been collared. Now, finally, you are completely mine and you wear my collar.

The tears from earlier prick your eyes again. And when I put my arms round your waist and pull you back into me, you can't hold back a sob of pleasure and happiness.

"Well done my pretty one. You are now completely mine, wearing my collar, submitted as my slave."

I kiss and nibble the junction of your neck and shoulder, tickling you with my beard. Your head leans down to me, resting your cheek on my hair.

I pull back and spin you around.

"Now you are mine, now I will claim you properly."

I reach down to your top and lift it up above your breasts, freeing their warm softness. They are caught, then fall away from the elastic edge of the top. As they return to their natural state, my breath catches at their weight and curved beauty.

I have to bend low to draw those puckered nubs into my mouth, resting my hand on your hips to steady myself. I lose myself in the sweet taste and resilient firmness of the nipples, chewing and sucking like a connoisseur, biting harder as your groans of pain/pleasure tell me that you are close to cumming.

I reluctantly stop this delightful torture and grasp the skirt zip. With one downward motion it is opened, and with a twist of my fingers, the button undone. The black fabric flutters to the ground, discarded at your feet. My breath becomes harsh and thick with urgency; your body is so ripe, so ready to be devoured.

I place one hand on your crotch, cupping the slick, moist membranes. The other hand moulds to the curve of an arse cheek, and in that grip, I kiss your lips once again, drinking the wine of your surrender.

Unbidden, your arms encircle my neck, drawn by passion and the need to try and stay upright. But I bend to your downward urging and lay you flat on your back, your legs parted and knees bent.

We search each other's eyes, looking for the least hint of hesitation, of any sign that this isn't desired by the other. But we find only love and a longing to give and take everything.

Shyly, like a virgin, you reach down to where my hardness strains against my trousers. Your fingers trace the outline as your palm presses, testing my hardness. You smile, secretly delighted at my obvious pleasure in you.

There, lying back, your top forming a girdle under your arms, you release me just long enough for my own clothes to be shed, and then we come together again. We are kissing, caressing, locking our legs and bodies in a fierce embrace, until we cannot hold back any longer and with a cry of mutual triumph, I drive my cock into your constricting pussy.

And so it is, this first time, as Master and newly collared slave that we fuck. And despite the promise of dominance and submission, despite the knowledge that no act of intercourse is beyond our limits, we join in the simplest and most traditional of positions. I am on top, my shaft buried in your well; your legs lifted up and holding me in around my back.

I doubt that any missionary would have approved of the reason for our relationship, however orthodox our consummation, but that is the last thought on our minds.

Instead, we move together, our hips naturally finding a rhythm that suites us both, our arms entwined, our lips brushing and nibbling the other's face. And as we rock back and forth, our skin sweaty and slip sliding, we spiral downward and inwards.

Together, our energies condense and coalesce into our hips, even as sparks of ecstasy dance across our nerves. It's like holding one's breath under water, holding back, not wanting to inhale and so end the reality of this. In slow motion we come together and pull apart, teasing each other and smiling.

But however long we want to continue this, our bodies will always betray us. You feel me start to tense up, and with the expectation of my release you hang on that bit longer.

"Oh fuck.."

My cry is constrained, as through gritted teeth, and with those words, you feel my cock swell and then start its pulsing. Each jet is like plasma to your insides, and the first throb of my orgasm topples you into yours. Your arms and legs grip me even tighter as your cunt milks every last drop...greedily gorging itself on my seed. Your mind fills with colours and sensation shocks, your muscles twitching as you answer my spending with your own.

The intensity of this act slowly clears from our minds and we gaze, silently, each at the other, already feeling our perfect union fragment until the next time. And there will be a next time, so many more next times.

In the silence of recovery, you slowly disentangle yourself from me. I lie back and watch you, wondering what your intentions are.

You brush my lips then trace a pathway of kisses down my chest towards my once proud cock, now limp and emptied. With infinite care you suckle my soft member into your mouth and bathe me with your tongue, searching out any last traces of my essence and drinking the taste of your own.

I smile. I had forgotten that some weeks before I had requested you do that after each time we coupled. But you, in your eagerness to serve have remembered, and with pride, and love, you honour me as a devoted slave honours its Master.

I reach down and stroke your hair.

"You really are my little princess, and I love you."

Those words surround you like a warm blanket. At last, you are home, and safe.