Baby Girl Finds the New Contract

All characters are fictional and over 18 years old. Special thanks to awayfromitall's original contract story.

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Baby girl looked down at the desk. She'd snuck into Daddy's office a few times since they'd separated. She didn't know now if she was looking at a new contract he made for her, or if she was right. . . Did he have an affair with her best friend when they were together? Was the contract for her friend Katrina? Or was it simply a new contract because Baby had foolishly forgotten all about the other. She never thought in a million years Daddy was serious. She could tell he was lying to her when they separated, and she believed he didn't love her enough to do more than talk about a life with her "someday."

Did he love her? Was this contract even real? Was it for her? Was it a decoy, to distract her from the fact that Daddy didn't want to own her at all? Had he grown? Did he see her as his equal? The contract said they saw each other as equals. . . but it also said "MASTER" and "SLAVE." There were moments while she read it that she could feel her cunt tighten, and get hot and wet. Still, could she feel this way if it were about someone else? What if he didn't love her?

Or, what if he just saw her as some kind of trophy-sub? The Hardest Baby to Dominate. Did he love her for who she was as a person? Or did he only care about categorizing her as "perfect" for his own purposes? She knew he fucked other women because he had issues with his feelings for her. That's why she doubted the contract. He used "safe" women that he considered "sluts" or "whores" to do the things he most desired sexually. She knew he feared telling her what he wanted. He did see her as perfect, or penultimate in some way, because he clearly had a complex about sullying or hurting her.

Couldn't he see that the most hurtful thing he could do is share his most intimate desires with women he considered worthless?

Maybe that was the point. Maybe he knew Baby would suffer, because he knew her love for him gave him power. It did. She couldn't deny it. She loved being dominated by him. She didn't think she would ever like the things she ASKED him to do to her sometimes.

"Slap my face." She panted, sitting in his lap backwards on the bed. He held one arm tight around her arms and torso while vigorously fucking below.

He slapped her with an open hand and said something about what a bad disobedient girl she was. She couldn't even process it. Just the noise of him fucking her. The tone of his voice. His tight grip around her. . . She could barely breathe it was so intoxicating.

Baby leaned on the office desk and moaned while her eyes closed and her hips methodically began to rock. If this contract wasn't for her, she could at least imagine it was? She could think about all the dirty things she wanted to do with Daddy, she could pretend he loved her enough to tell her his darkest secrets. To do these things with only her. To trust her like she wanted to trust him.

"Mmmmm, Daddy, pleeeeease. . . ."

She read the bit about him liking to watch her struggle. She had always had a hunch that he liked that, but he always got so weird when they got into more serious role play, she couldn't tell what he wanted. Now she saw it was because she had always given in too readily. She remembered him once saying, "You're too easy." When she came quickly during a quick fuck at home. That was one of the phrases that haunted her. It was how she knew he had other people to compare. . . .

She could struggle. Why hadn't he just asked? Why couldn't he ask her for these thing before? She felt so conflicted reading over all of this. She was horny, angry, hurt, lovesick, desperate to be pushed up against the desk and fucked from behind. She loved videos of girls struggling and being dominated anally, he had to know that, he looked at her phone. She watched cream pie videos and videos about guys who got girls accidentally pregnant, she liked those things. She wanted him to be rough with her. She just also wanted to know she was the only one he shared these fantasies with, that she was all he wanted.

He was all she wanted. She'd never loved or lusted after someone so much in her entire life. She was a grown woman of 30 now, she knew what she needed and wanted sexually, and she knew she only wanted one person to administer it. She just never knew she was supposed to pretend not to want it. She could have done that. "Tie me up right now!" She accidentally said in the office aloud.

One of the stipulations in the contract was "COCK WORSHIP," as if she'd ever needed that put in writing. She adored his cock. No directions necessary. She thought about how thick and hard it was any time she would get down on her knees and take it out of his pants. She used to love doing it right when he walked in the door. Oh god, she fucking loved sucking him off. It was truly a beautiful cock. Pale, and thick, wit translucent skin and light blues veins like marble. The head so perfect, so soft and spongey, ready to pop in and out of her mouth to tease him. He loved when she gagged on it. She didn't love the way that it felt, but she fucking loved the noises he made and the look on his face when she did it. Well worth it. She thought about him here at his desk, drawing up contracts, reading official business. . .

She thought she could hide under it and wait for him to come back. She wasn't supposed to be here, but would he mind if he sat down to a little surprise? Maybe the contract wasn't for her, but maybe she could attend an impromptu Cock Worship service?

. . . .

He comes in the empty office, turns on a lamp on the desk, loosens his tie. He is beautiful. He is pale, muscular, and has strong bone structure paired with fair features. His eyebrows are light, and his eyes are a soft brown, just darker than his hair. He is her everything. Baby has missed him so much. She peers from the very bottom of the desk, it is covered in front so he can't see her. Baby begins to choke up. She doesn't know if she can do this. What if he doesn't even love her? What if it's all for someone else? What if it's all a trick?

"But do you really care?" She asks herself. "You love him enough that you don't care if it's a trick or the truth, and that's exactly why you let him lie to you before." She feels hot tears sting in her eyes. Her throat swells.

She is trapped. She is so horny she can't think straight, and now she is holding back sobs simply from seeing a face she missed more than anything for one and a half years. She has nowhere to go, and he is coming over to the desk with his scotch glass in hand and his sleeves rolled up.

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." She says in her head. It's now or never.

He sits down in his chair . . . he slides into the last gap separating them.

His scent. It is overpowering. It is her favorite smell. It is the only smell she wants. The tears swell and start to fall now. She feels so lost and aches for him so badly. She leans forward and puts her hot, wet face on his crotch. She sobs into it. He is instantly startled, but simultaneously, instantly erect. She can feel his hardness as she wipes her tears on the crotch of his pants, rolling her face around his engorged, encased cock.

He slides back from the desk to see, but he knows who it is. She looks up at him with doe eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks, her hair rumpled from nuzzling him.

He reaches down silently, and puts his thumb into trembling mouth. He pushes it in and out for a moment, as their eyes plead with one another.