Disclaimer: While based on a real relationship, the events in this story are fictional and not necessarily advisable play for real life. All characters are consenting adults.
This is a bit of a slow burn, and this chapter is largely setup. The second chapter is already written and will be posted by tomorrow at the latest.
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As I stepped off the jet bridge, I took inventory of everything I owned in life. I wore a simple leather choker, my gold lock pendant emblazoned with an S, my smartwatch, a sundress, and Birkenstocks. No undergarments. A weighted glass plug was nestled deep in my ass. My carry-on bag held my wallet with nothing to it but my ID, phone, my Kindle, which Daddy would never ask me to leave home without, my headphones, my portable charger for the flight, and my play collar. Everything else had been left behind for my ex to discard as he wished. I felt impossibly light. Free, despite never having been less so.
Needing to be sure I was presentable, I stepped into the ladies' room. At the same time, I realized it may be quite a while before I had access to a restroom. I had no idea where my Master would take me.
WHORE: May I pee please, Daddy?
DADDY: Make it quick, slut. I'm waiting at arrivals and I need you in my arms STAT.
I dried my hands and studied my reflection in the full-length mirror. Long, dark hair neatly braided as my Master had ordered when I got dressed this morning. My makeup was set to his standards, nothing crazy, but enough that someone seeing us together in public would envy him; mascara, subtle winged liner, and plump, glossy lips. The flush that painted my cheeks made me look feral already. The needy pussy underneath my short, frilly sundress wasn't helping.
Having no checked bag, I made my way easily to the arrivals door and started craning my neck, searching for that familiar face in the crowded room. It wasn't long before I felt the magnetic pull between our bodies and I looked up to behold my Master, russet hair gleaming in the West Coast sunshine, blue-grey eyes shining as they caught mine. My breath hitched as I realized he had trimmed up his hair and beard to their length when we had met. He was always perfect to me, but part of me had always liked this version of him best, and I was moved that he knew this despite never having voiced it. But that was my Master.
I didn't realize until my body slammed into him that I had taken off at a run. Sparing no thought for onlookers, I leaped into his arms, carry-on bag clattering to the floor. My legs hitched around his waist and I felt his strong arms closed tightly around me. I never wanted to leave the security of his embrace. I couldn't. He would never let me go. I buried my face in the crook of his neck and breathed in his masculine scent.
"Daddy," I breathed. Goose pimples rose on his neck and I giggled. "Daddy Daddy Daddy...." I peppered kisses under his ear and darted my tongue out to taste the salt of his skin. I heard a growl forming in his broad chest and giggled some more.
"I need to get you home already, sweet girl." His voice was so addicting, live and right in my ear. I was painfully aware of his hot breath on me, the proximity of his mouth, the way his beard felt against me. The memory of his beard in other places. My tits as he bit down on my nipple. My inner thighs while he tormented my pussy with his tongue, chuckling as I squirmed in my restraints. "People are watching," he warned and I realized I had begun to grind against him slightly. I unlocked my legs, unwilling to step fully out of his arms, still clinging to his neck as I stood on my own two feet. My knees trembled. I felt like a baby deer.
"Home," I echoed. Butterflies erupted in my stomach. And lower. I squirmed, rocking my hips against his slightly. I felt his cock twitch.
