Daddys Home Night One

Daddy will be home in a few days and while he's been on the road, he's kept himself busy reading my dirty stories and coming up with new ideas for me. You should know, dear readers, that he delights in your comments so please keep them coming. He watches for every like, every bookmark, every positive review. The more positive reinforcement you give me, the more praise I get from him.

He says I'll have a new job when he gets home. To quote him directly "Every night you will get naked, kneel where I tell you, facing away from me, and you'll masturbate for as long as it entertains me."

He also has other plans for me.

Exhibit A: A Recent Text Conversation between Daddy and His Girl

Daddy: "You just like to be called a disgusting slut so much, Daddy has decided that you're going to do some disgusting slut things. I'm gonna fix it so those words alone make you cum when you hear them and remember all of the shameful things you did for me."

BabyGirl: "What are disgusting slut things?!"

Daddy: "I am going to have you, one night soon, kneel over a washrag and soak it with your pussy while you suck me. When it's good and wet, we can use it to clean my cum off your face. Then I'm going to gag you with it and make you watch in the mirror or video yourself while I fuck you into submission from behind with your big toy. I'm going to make you say the dirty words through your gag and I'll quit when I believe you. You are going to be so nasty and used up when I'm done and every time I call you a disgusting slut, you will see yourself like that with all of your holes filled and worn out, drool and squirt and cum and spit and tears on your face, sucking on my cumrag and begging me for more. We will do that over and over until you can cum for me just from a whisper in your ear."

BabyGirl: "Being your disgusting slut is my favorite thing to do, Daddy!"

Daddy: "You are just my personal cumrag and you happen to love it."

BabyGirl: "Yep. I do." *shrug emoji

Daddy: "What kind of crazy gross and painful things am I gonna have to do to you to make you finally complain?"

BabyGirl: "Is that your goal?"

Daddy: "My goal is for you to have tears in your eyes and look up at me for reassurance that it's ok for you to beg for me to make it worse. I intend to prove to you how important, valuable and cared for you are by forcing you to live out your disgusting submissive, slut slave fantasy. I want to hurt, humiliate and torture you and make you beg me to make it worse. I'm going to let you love things you shouldn't for one night. Daddy wants to take special care of you."

Like, come on! What is a girl supposed to say to that besides yes, please?!

Daddy has given me a few tasks before he's even gotten home. He instructs me to take inventory of the tools he plans to use, to run to the store and grab a few drinks with a lot of electrolytes, to make sure I have a cushion I can spend a lot of time on my knees atop of, to pick out an outfit. He consults me on each time and in making each choice. I lay everything out, at his request, and leave it waiting for his arrival.

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Daddy's Home: Day One

I have this nasty habit of finding reasons to work from home when Daddy is here. My job is flexible enough for me to do so although I probably take way more advantage of it than I should. I had to wait up until almost 2am last night to go pick up Daddy at his truck and bring him home.

I've already called into work, got up to let the dog outside and climbed back into bed hours ago.

I can feel Daddy trying to nudge me awake. I open my eyes, keeping them just slits, and meet his piercing blue gaze.

"It's time to get up, baby," he says gently, but I close my eyes again and burrow deeper into the covers.

"Just a little more sleep, Daddy," I beg, and I can feel his arms wrap around me and hold me tight as I drift off some more.

He's nudging me awake in earnest now but I can tell some time has passed based on the light filtering in between the slats in the blinds. He's pulling my head onto his chest and my arm across his middle.

"What's for breakfast, baby?" he asks me as his hand snakes up and down my spine.

"Eggs?" I mumble, "And toast and bacon?"

"Sounds good to me, " he grunts in reply.

I sigh and peel myself away from him, sitting up to locate clothes on the floor from last night that I can just pull back on over my body to wear downstairs. Daddy watches me from the bed.

"Your job is to stay wet for me. All day."

I stop midway through sliding my sweats up my thighs and turn to look at him.

"And I'll be checking. All day."

I'm pretty sure this fucker doesn't know how vaginas work because I don't think that's physically possible. I look at him incredulously.

"All day?" I ask, just to make sure I'm hearing him correctly.

"All. Day." he parrots back with a wicked smile.

"In fact, come here. Let's check you right now."

I glare at him.

"It's not going to be wet right now!" I say back sassily but his only response is a low growl.

I pull my sweats up the rest of the way but I crawl on the bed towards him until I am kneeling at his side and placing my hands on his broad shoulders.

He reaches his hand under the waistband of my sweats and panties and cups my pussy. I can feel his finger exploring my soft folds until they are slick and I am panting. He shoves a single digit inside of me and lazily pumps it in and out. I can feel an orgasm building and he dips his head to capture my eyes with his. He watches the orgasm crash into me, every change in my facial features and expression, and his eyes devour me.

"You better be this fucking wet for me all day. I will spank you every time that you are not," he growls, as he withdraws his finger and holds them up for me to see how obscenely wet they are. He brings his fingers to my lips and is shoving them inside as I open my mouth, commanding me to clean them.

When he's satisfied that they are clean, he sends me downstairs to make his breakfast on shaky legs.

He joins me in the kitchen, a few minutes later, just as I'm cracking eggs into the pan and we work side by side making breakfast in companionable silence. I fill both of our plates with eggs and Daddy adds the bacon and toast. I've made myself a coffee on the Kurig. Daddy said he didn't want one.

We both carry our plates of food into the TV room to settle onto the couch to, presumably, watch a show together while we eat. I'm just bending to set my plate and coffee cup on the coffee table when I hear Daddy behind me.

"Are you wet, babygirl?"

I can feel him sidling up behind me and he cups my pussy from behind through my sweats.

"I don't know!" I manage to stammer, looking at him over my shoulder.

"Let's check" he growls in my ear and then he's shoving me down until my hands are planted on the coffee table on either side of my plate and I'm bent at the waist, my ass offered up to him to check his fill.

His hand is sliding into my sweats, down the curve of my ass, and his fingers are plunging roughly into my folds. I must still be wet enough from his earlier ministrations to satisfy him that I am not threatened with a spanking. I cry out with a moan.

My head hangs a little at the humiliation but my cheeks burn because I love Daddy's attention on me and the way it makes me feel tingly all over, from my head to my toes. My pussy throbs and I try to squeeze my thighs together but his fingers are gone before they bring me to pleasure and I am left feeling bereft.

"Good girl" is all he says before backing away and sitting on the couch to eat his breakfast.

I sit beside him, cheeks still pink, and bring my fork to my lips with a little smile.

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Daddy did, indeed, check me several more times throughout the day. I wasn't always wet. He didn't spank me immediately whenever this happened but said that I was collecting spankings to be given out at the end of the night.

The man HAS to know that female bodies just don't work like that but I secretly don't mind being punished unfairly. I love a good spanking.

It's evening at this point and he now has me fingering myself under the blanket as we sit together on the couch to keep myself wet as he wasn't satisfied to find me not wet twice in a row. He's been having me play with myself for, like 20 minutes, while we watch WWE and he's still not made a move towards me although I can feel it each time his eyes land on me. He takes a final swig of the cocktail in his hand and reaches over slowly to hand me to glass.

"Make me another drink, babygirl" is his only command.

He has a thing about having me make his drinks. Even in public my job is to make sure he's never empty handed when he's thirsty.

I slide my hand from my panties and I take the cup that he has extended.

"I didn't say that you could stop touching yourself."

I look at him in confusion.

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"You better keep one hand on your pussy while you make me that drink."

Opening a ginger beer to make him a moscow mule is hard to do with nails anyway, let alone doing it one-handed, and he knows this. I can tell by the smirk on his face.

I am so tempted to roll my eyes about this but I keep my other hand buried between my legs as I stand. I keep it buried there as I walk to the kitchen, as I use a butter knife to open the ginger beer I need to make his damn drink and as I unscrew the cap of the vodka bottle and pour at least three shots worth into his glass. Whoops. My left hand is still buried between my legs when I return to the couch with his drink in my other hand.

"Come sit here, rub your pussy, and hold my drink for me," he orders and I comply, sitting next to him on the couch.

He leans back into the cushions, spreading his arms wide along the back of the couch, leaving me to awkwardly try and hold his drink up and steady while I circle my clit. He watches me struggle, relieving me briefly to take a drink from the glass before returning it to my hand and leaning back again.

I don't know why I like this so much. Being treated like a servant or slave for him. Like a piece of furniture. Like a form of entertainment. Like a toy. Like a possession. It makes me feel important, I think. Valued in some sort of dirty or sick way. It feels naughty to submit to it. To derive immense pleasure from the praise he gives me for doing whatever he asks of me. For wanting to debase myself for him.

We sit like that, my thoughts swirling as fast as my fingers, until his drink is halfway gone. He takes the glass from my hand, this time setting it down on the coffee table in front of us, and quietly asks, "How many spankings did you earn today?"

"Four," I answer, meekly, my eyes downcast.

"Pull your pants down, baby, and come lay across my lap," he replies, leaning back again into the cushions with his arms spread wide.

I slide my fingers from my folds and stand to pull down my sweats and panties before positioning myself over Daddy's lap, my breath now coming in quick, nervous gasps. His warm hand settles on my right ass cheek and he massages the flesh there, his other arm sliding under me to wrap around my chest and under my left armpit holding me firmly to him.

"I want you to count for me. Can you do that?" he asks me sweetly.

I nod my head shakily.

"Yes, Daddy."

I can feel his hand lift into the air and ready to strike. The few heartbeats before impact are exquisitely painful and I suck in a breath and hold it, waiting for the sting I know is inevitable. It's sharp and quick.

"One," I breathe out, on a gasp.

The second follows quickly behind, this time landing on my left ass cheek and spreading warmth across my entire backside. I hang my head and whisper:

"Two."

"Are you wet now, babygirl? Does this make you wet? Being punished for being a naughty girl?"

My only answer is a sob as I feel Daddy's fingers slide between my legs and I hear him chuckle when he finds the truth. I'm soaked. He spreads the wetness from my pussy across my right ass cheek before leaning over to spit on my ass as well, making it nice and wet so the next strike will sting even more.

I can feel a soft breeze as his hand swings through the air and my skin explodes in fire as he connects. I squirm on his lap trying to relieve some of the pain but he holds me firmly in place.

"Three!" I manage to choke out.

"Only disgusting sluts get wet like this when they get their ass spanked, baby. What does that make you?" Daddy growls in my ear.

"A disgusting slut, Daddy!" I wail between sobs.

"That's right, baby. A disgusting slut," Daddy confirms as his hand comes down again on my right ass cheek for emphasis.

"Four!" I cry.

Daddy's shushing me then.

"Shhhh, babygirl. I know what you need. I know how to make it better," he coos at me while stroking my hair.

He's pulling his cock out and I'm shifting to position myself between his legs. He's right. Sucking his cock does make me feel better and I take it into my mouth while still sniffling a little. I pick up an easy rhythm and my mind empties out while my emotions even out as I bob up and down on his cock with his hands in my hair guiding me, roughly, reminding me he's still in control. I could do this for hours. I love listening to the sounds he makes, the way his body shakes with pleasure, the pain in my scalp and jaw all secondary to making my man fall apart.

I think I'm about to get a belly full of cum but he's pulling me off him with a pop. I look up at him, confused.

"Go upstairs. You have another job to do."

"Another job?" I question.

"Did you forget my expectations for you every night? Why we bought you a new cushion?"

I had forgotten. But the realization was settling in quickly. He had said that my new job would be to masturbate for him, facing away from him, until he got bored every night.

I audibly gulped.

"Let's go," Daddy growls, quickly standing, stopping briefly to grab the remainder of his drink in one hand and my hand in the other, before leading us up the stairs and into our bedroom.

"I want you naked. On the cushion. Facing away from me. Grab your vibrator. Now."

I scramble to follow all of his directions, first peeling the remaining clothes from my body and tossing them aside, grabbing the vibrator from under the bed, grabbing the new cushion and setting it at the foot of the bed before the bench and quickly covering it with our waterproof sex blanket before climbing atop it and kneeling on it, facing away from him.

I can feel Daddy saunter up behind me and sit on the bench. I try to lean back into his touch but he snarls "Don't. Touch. Me." and I immediately lean forward onto my hand to keep our skin from touching. He's scary like this but a thrill runs through me and I can feel myself dampen further at his response.

"Begin," he commands.

I shakily turn on the vibrator and tentatively bring it to my clit. The sensations ripple through me and I'm easily lost to them. I've never done this. Wantonly masturbated like this for someone while they watched me so closely. Predatorily. It has me cumming over and over for him, squirming and writhing and gasping for air, clawing at the floor.

He's speaking. A tumble of dirty words, each one making me feel more beautiful, more desired, more dirty. I'm not sure I'm hearing everything he's saying. I keep getting swept up in orgasm after orgasm and my ability to see and hear keeps blinking in and out.

I'm begging him then. I'm not sure for what. I just keep wailing his name.

"Daddy, please!!" Over and over.

Like I'm something he wants to devour and just can't help himself, he sets his drink aside and his arm is coming around my throat, pinning my back to his front, cradling my head in the crook of his elbow, as he whispers in my ear:

"I should resist. Make you do this all by yourself, baby. But you're so fucking tempting. Daddy's going to help you out," he promises, darkly.

He's cutting off my air then and I'm arching back into him. His other hand comes up to pinch and twist my right nipple sharply. I buck and squirm against his hold but I can feel myself gushing between my legs as I squirt so hard, the sloshing of it can be heard over my sobs.

I go limp in his arms. He reaches down to grab the vibrator with his free hand and snatches it from me before bringing it to my clit firmly and holding it there as he squeezes the air from my lungs again and I detonate, literally full-body spasming from the orgasm that hits me like a Mack truck.

When he's sure that I've had enough, he moves us both to the bed. I look into his eyes as his cock slides home into my dripping wet pussy and I want to cry. How this man can make me feel all of the big things I never thought I could have, I don't want to examine too closely, but I am so thankful that he's mine.