All of the participants of this are of legal age. This is a story from a particular segment of the BDSM community depicting a DD/bg relationship. This is NOT a tale of incest!
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In a small corner of her mind, she felt shame. With a lock on her emotions and thoughts, she resolutely pushed the shame down and locked it up tight with a mental heart-shaped lock and key.
Her heart pounded. Ironically, her palms were sweaty, but her throat was dry, arid as the cruelest desert. She absentmindedly slicked her palms down the skirt of her pink prim A-line dress and typed the first few characters of a URL she knew by heart in the white bar of her monitor.
Nervous, she reached for something comforting to grasp and stroke as the chat site appeared in the soft glow of the monitor. By routine, she glanced apprehensively over her shoulder, but then she castigated herself for her foolishness. As her fingers stroked the soft, bright pink hair of her favorite My Little Pony, she laughed inwardly reminding herself (yet again) that she lived alone at the ripe old age of twenty-five, had never been married, and had hardly ever been kissed—or fucked, some devilish part of her mind inserted snidely.
Sure, she had the requisite one-night stand or two in college, but they had left her feeling cold and unfulfilled. Only her fantasies revealed in the stories she had read and had written to be published on a website could make her burn and her scorching pussy drip—and then gush—in unbelievable pleasure.
Those fantasies were her dirty little secrets. She—Cassie—had long known she was submissive and even a masochist. But lately her fantasies had taken a decidedly different turn.
Cassie took a long sip of her juice box and smiled happily at the fruity flavor that cooled her and quenched the parched aridity in her mouth.
While nearly mindlessly clicking the tab to select a new room, she glanced searchingly down the list until she spotted the room where she first spoke to HIM two weeks before.
Her heart skipped a beat then trip-hammered as Cassie remembered the topic he introduced last night. She had mentioned to him that she enjoyed juice boxes, cartoons, her childhood blankie, and My Little Ponies.
His response shattered her. "I think you need a Daddy Dom, and I think I am he. I think you would be just the baby girl for me."
Dumbfounded, she tasted the familiar words in her mouth, her lips trembling at their odd use. "Daddy Dom????" she typed. "babygirl?????"
His answering reply was immediate, as if he were expecting her confusion. "We've talked about you serving me as my submissive; this is just a different type of dominance and submission. A gentler kind."
"Does that mean you wouldn't spank me and stuff?" Cassie had first been drawn to him because he demonstrated a proper over-the-knee spanking the first night she had discovered the room. She thought back to her reaction as she reclined on her couch, slack-jawed, at what appeared to be an expert spanker administer a thrashing to a woman pretending to be a willfully bratty submissive.
Telltale traces of moisture stained her pale-pink cotton panties and her cheeks burned hotly. How she had yearned to be on the receiving end to experience that hand, that paddle, first on her skirt-covered ass and, then, as her bottom warmed, with skirts lifted up and panties pulled down—on the bare.
She still did not understand how she got up the courage to ask that first tentative question in the room. Her "Have you ever given a spanking in real life?" seemed to hang on the air for a few moments as her cheeks burned in embarrassment at her silliness. A few people typed "lol," and she knew they were laughing at her, the shy little newbie.
He answered her in a question, "little one, may I PM you?"
Blushing a bit because she saw this as a sign of gentlemanly chivalry, some code of politeness not many followed in chat, she typed '*nods,*" and he quickly messaged her.
In the two weeks that followed, Cassie learned the answer to that question and many others that she hesitantly asked. She learned that yes, he was very experienced in spanking undisciplined subs, that he had been Sir or Master to three different women in real life and several online (although he didn't have a submissive presently). He was thirty-four years old, college educated, but very reticent about telling her where he lived or what he did for a living.
Her mind snapped back to her previous reverie. Last night, he had promised her that spankings were indeed still a part of being a baby girl. But, then, he had given her a task.
"You and I have talked for a couple of weeks, but we've never shared much about our private lives. I've never seen a picture of you, have never talked to you on the phone. If you are going to be my baby girl, that has to change. I will, of course, be more open with you.
"But you have to make that decision. If you decide that you are going to be mine, you will log on tomorrow at 6:15 Eastern time and present yourself to me in PM. If not, I will be sad, but I will consider our association at an end." He logged out soon after that.
At about midnight, she gave up on restless sleep. After several hours of research, Cassie thought she had her answer. All day, weighted down by sleeplessness, she vacillated. What started out as a definite "yes" in the cold light of dawn was a tentative "no" while she changed into her favorite pink dress doomed to be a creased mess within two hours of kneeling on the floor with her kindergarten students.
A dozen more times she changed her mind—as she pulled her reddish-brown hair into a perky ponytail secured with an equally perky pink bow, slicked pink gloss on her lips, and swiped mascara on her eyelashes that fanned above anxious brown eyes that stared back at her in the mirror. Her troubled mind continued to volley between "yes" and "no" while she ate breakfast and watched cartoons, stepped out in the early morning sunshine before settling black sunglasses over her eyes, locked her door carefully, waved to her next-door neighbor who also was her brother's best friend (Max Phillips), and slid into the driver's seat of her car, a late model white Hyundai Elantra. All through the day, even as she enjoyed her students' efforts to count to 100 with a smile spreading her lips, her mind raced to come to a solution.
She looked at the clock when she realized he wasn't logged on. 5:00. She was fifteen minutes early as she felt the air conditioning crank into high gear to combat the stifling Texas heat. He had said 6:15 Eastern time. Did that mean that he lived somewhere on the East coast? Cassie hoped she would find out where he lived.
Her daydreaming—or woolgathering, as her grandmother called it—was interrupted by a knock on the door followed by a ring of the doorbell. Cassie looked at the time on the monitor again. 5:03. Drat! She needed to get rid of whoever was at the door ASAP!
With a sigh, she recognized Max. He was holding a box—a box with an address label she hoped he did not recognize. "Hi," she beamed brightly, innocently. Her eyes lit on the package. "Did the UPS driver deliver my package to your house by mistake?"
A long steady pause from her brother's usually gregarious best friend as he studied her before answering. She felt the laser blue frost of his gaze. "No," he spoke slowly, deliberately. "I've ordered from this company before. They needed a signature; I was outside earlier when they arrived. I offered to sign for it."
Cassie's cheeks burned. After her discussions with HIM, she had ordered a riding crop from her favorite toy store. She curled her fingers around the long, narrow box, clutching it to her. Grasping it. Desperately trying to melt under the floor so that she wouldn't have to face him—or Zander, her brother—ever again! (because surely Max would tell Zander that his baby sister was ordering toys from an online sex toy store)
Mumbling "I need to go," she slammed the door in Max's face. With a glance at the screen, she noted that HE was still not in the room, so she greedily ripped open the package, tossing the packing material aside like a kid opening a Christmas present. Inside the box nestled the riding crop. She stroked it reverently before lifting it and inhaling the leather scent. Just as she was about to whap her ass with a practice swat, she heard a chime from her laptop.
HE was on!
Master Enigma: You are here. I am pleased, baby girl. Present yourself.
Innocent Submissive: *kneels before HIM, hands behind her back, back slightly bowed to offer up her breasts for HIS inspection and use, eyes looking up devotedly into his*
Master Enigma: Very good, baby girl. Do you have any questions?
Innocent Submissive: Tons! What am I to call you? Where do you live? Are you in a real life 'nilla relationship? What is your name? What do you do for a living? What happens now?
Master Enigma: You are to address me as "Daddy," unless I am having to discipline you. Then, you will address me as "Sir." I am American. I live in the Central Time Zone, in Texas. Dallas. I am not presently in a real-life relationship. I do not give out my name online—ever! I work in a white-collar field, I guess. As to what happens now: you serve me as MINE. Now, little one, the same questions to you.
She was a bit disappointed by some of his answers, but she could understand. Online safety and all of that. But the fact that he lived so close!?!?
Innocent Submissive: I live near Dallas, too. I haven't been in a real-life relationship since college. I go by Abby on here. I work in the education field, as a teacher. I love teaching! How am I to serve you? Online? Real-life as well because we are so close?
She waited several breathless moments for his response. When it came, she nearly dropped the crop she was maneuvering with admiring fingers.
Master Enigma: We could attempt a rl relationship, if our online one blossoms.
For several moments, she stared at the screen, unable to respond.
Master Enigma: baby girl? pet? Abby?
Innocent Submissive: Sorry. I've never thought about having an rl relationship like that. D/s.
Master Enigma: Would you be opposed to it?
Innocent Submissive: No, Daddy. I wouldn't be opposed to it. But my family is very protective. How would I introduce the subject with them?
Master Enigma: lol. You don't have to say I'm your Master or your Daddy. I dated one submissive throughout college, and her family simply thought that we were extremely close. No one in my 'nilla life knows my need to control.
