Playfully Wicked

  Daddy texted me an address. He told me to wear something slutty and to meet him there in 30 minutes. I googled the address; it was 25 minutes away, which didn’t leave much time for anything. I threw on what was in front of me, which was a loose white tank top, a jean skirt, and flip-flops, and ran out the door. I pulled up to an empty parking garage and received a text message that said, “Go to the lower level and park next to the car there.” So I went to the lower level and parked next to the only car there. It was dark and kinda creepy. I got out of my car and started looking around. I got another text message that said, “Go face the wall, put your hands against the wall and spread your legs, whatever you do, don’t turn around.” I could feel someone behind me. “Daddy, is that you?” Silence. “Who’s there?” I could feel his breath on the back of my neck. My hands were taken off the wall and tied behind my back as I was bent down on the hood of the other car. My skirt was pulled u...

It felt like the shortest hour, but at the same time, the excitement running through me was glad the hour was over. When he walked back into the room, I was bent over the foot of the bed, lying with my hands over my head. He slid down my thong and told me to spread my legs. He then placed a finger inside my pussy, moving it in and out. “Mmm, my lil ' slut is always wet, just the way I like her.” He then grabbed something off the dresser. He rubbed a ball against my pussy lips and then pushed it inside; it was one of the Ben Wa Balls. He pushed the ball all the way inside me, then pushed the next one in. My pussy felt stuffed. He went back to the dresser and got the paddle. He rubbed the paddle on my ass lightly, and then it started whack, whack. He began paddling my ass until He counted to 10. The Ben wa balls inside me bounced around with every paddle whack, arousing me even more. Once he was finished, He touched my pussy lips and could feel the wetness; “mmmm, such a fucking good...

I want to live this lifestyle more than ever before. I explored it briefly years ago, but now I’m more open and more aware of what I want. I want to do what he wants me to do. I want to push my limits—not in a harmful way, but in a way that feels intentional and desired. Doing what he wants turns me on, even if I can’t always explain why. The control and power I want to give him isn’t about him overpowering me. It’s because I want him to have it. I need him to have it. That choice is mine. If he wanted me to be with other men, I would be willing. If he wanted to watch me with other men, I would be willing. I want to dress sexier for him. I would wear whatever he asked me to wear—for him, or even for someone else if that was what he wanted. If he told me to do something, I would do it—or accept the punishment. I’ll admit that sometimes the punishment is even more exciting. Pain can be pleasurable to me, especially when it comes from him exerting control and showing ownership over wha...