Princess

Author's note: This is a fictional DDlg series involving consenting partners in their thirties. CWs for the entire series include spanking, humiliation, anal play, enema play, wire hanger punishment and, most importantly, lots and lots of love.

PART 2

"Ye-es, Daddy," I say, slithering off of him and onto my shaky legs. Then I scamper back to the bathroom.

I expel as quickly as possible, emerging ten minutes later--this time, clean as a whistle. And when I see Daddy leaning against the shower door, arms crossed, waiting for me with that sexy, teasing grin, my body blooms red yet again.

The shower is already running, and the steam that fogs the room is scented sweet like roses thanks to the steamer bomb he's tossed in the corner.

Daddy loves washing me in scented steam, even though it leaves us both smelling like flowers for the rest of the day. Daddy doesn't mind, though. He says it reminds the office vultures that he's taken--as if that ever stops them, anyway. Nearly every day he comes home with some story about one of his ad execs inviting him to drinks or squeezing his shoulder as they pass or trying to catch his eye across the conference room.

He finds it hilarious the way these women and even some of the younger men are feral for him. I try to laugh along, but I don't find it quite as funny. I've seen the women at his office. They're not like me--tall, confident, statuesque. Real women. The kind who are used to getting everything they want.

"And I'm the kind of man who gets everything I want," Daddy likes to remind me, usually with a playful swat on the ass. "And all I've ever wanted is everything I have, right here."

Daddy motions for me to lift my arms as I approach him now, gently pulling the nightie over my shoulders as I do. I blush even harder once I'm completely naked--letting my long brunette hair fall slightly over my face as I drop my eyes to my toes. Daddy reaches out to brush it back, lifting my chin until I meet his gaze. "There's my pretty princess."

I shift on my feet, tummy clenching, always a little star struck when he makes me look at him--never failing to feel out of his league.

His orbit.

"Is my princess ready for her pretty plug?"

I smile shyly up at him and he shoots me a wink, nudging me beneath the hot water. My eyes land immediately on the pink jeweled plug and bottle of lube he's already set on the bench built into the shower tile.

I sit back on the bench and Daddy lifts my legs until all my holes are facing him. Then he drops to his knees, looking like he wants to eat me as he runs a thumb over my sopping slit, giving my clitty another teasing stroke that sends me into a moaning flutter.

"My desperate little doll," Daddy murmurs as he reaches for the metal plug, generously lubing it. "Daddy knows just what you need." My bottom clenches in anticipation, and then he asks me the question he asks me every morning. "What do you say, princess?"

"Please plug my bottom, Daddy," I whisper.

He's more than happy to oblige, pressing the metal--pleasantly warmed by the hot water--against my hole.

I arch back as he begins to push it in, quickly recognizing that it's bigger than the one I've worn for the last two weeks.

"Daddy," I whimper, panicked as he continues to press it into me.

"Use your magic word or take it, princess."

I roll my head back, trying to control my breathing--pushing my bottom out like a good girl. But it's too big. Too hard. Too painful. My abused sphincter screams as the plug reaches its widest point, and Daddy holds it there.

"Daddy!" I cry out, squeezing my eyes shut. "Please-please-please--"

"Princess, this is barely half the width of Daddy's cock. What makes you think you'll be able to take me when you can't even take this plug?"

I fist my hands at my sides, tears beginning to trickle down my cheeks.

"Tonight we'll start the next phase of your training," he says and I whimper at the thought of what that could mean. "This hole needs to learn to open wide for more than just a second or two at a time. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Da-AAHH--" I shriek as he pushes the plug the rest of the way then. He quickly pulls my shaking body up against him as I catch my breath.

"You're okay, princess," Daddy says, and I feel his hard cock pressing up against my belly. "Such a brave girl." He reaches for my soothing cream--a lavender aloe gel on the ledge next to our shampoo bottles. He rubs it delicately around my stretched hole and I feel instant relief.

Daddy chuckles as I sigh against him. "Come on," he says with a gentle pop on one of my cheeks, setting me down on my feet. "Let's get you showered."

Daddy makes quick work of lathering up my hair, even taking the time to leave the product in for a few minutes before rinsing it out. Then, after scrubbing me head to toe, he sits me back down on the bench and I wince in pain as the movement jostles the plug. I carefully lift my legs back up, watching as he uses one of the disposable mens' razors I bedazzled to touch up my stubbly lips.

Daddy exclusively uses mens' razors on me, insisting that they're cheaper and they get a cleaner shave. But I'm a princess through and through--I like my clothes, my toiletries--

my implements

--girly. So Daddy let me hot glue pink and purple rhinestones to the handles of the razors in this latest pack. He even helped me, bedazzling a few for himself with red rhinestones, because red is his favorite color.

"Like hearts and roses?" I'd asked him teasingly when he shared this little detail early in our relationship.

"Like your backside when I'm through with it," he'd growled, wrestling my giggling body over his lap to show me what he meant.

I watch Daddy now as he concentrates on his work with my pink jeweled razor, which matches my pink jeweled plug. His tongue darts out then to flick at my clitty and I gasp, which only encourages him. He begins licking me between every swipe of the blade and I whimper as I do my best to stay still, not wanting to get cut.

"Perfection," he whispers after a few minutes, planting a kiss on my now throbbing clit. Then he pulls me up with a wink. "My turn."

I shoot him a mischievous smile, loving when Daddy gives me little bits of control here and there. I spin him around until his back is to me. Then I pull on his shoulders, silently instructing him to get on his knees. I'm about a head above him now--the perfect height for some playful revenge.

"Ooh, shiny," I say as I run my hands through his dark hair, plucking one of the silver strands sprouting at his temple.

He hisses, swatting back at me. "Watch it, princess."

I giggle, pressing away my smile as I squeeze a generous amount of shampoo on his head and massage it into his scalp. Then I move to the front of him, pressing up against him, letting one of my nipples graze his scratchy cheek as I continue to lather him from the front. I feel Daddy smile against my skin but he resists the urge to touch me.

"Such a good little Daddy," I say, patting his head, and he shoots me a look like I'm going to regret that when he's back in charge.

With a not-so-accidental graze of my nipple across his mouth, I'm the one whose resolve finally caves.

"Put your mouth on me, Da--" My words are reduced to a needy moan as he snakes his arms around me and pulls me against him, capturing my nipple with his teeth.

I cry out. "Gentle, Daddy! Gentle!"

I feel him smile again, flicking me now with leisurely swipes of his tongue.

I cradle his head harder against me, pressing myself into his mouth. "Touch my clitty, Daddy--"

That earns me a hard, wet spank.

"You know the rules," he growls and I pout, clenching my legs together. I'm allowed to tell Daddy to do anything while I'm in charge--anything but play with my pussy.

I sigh, getting serious then--knowing we have to go soon. I rinse the shampoo from his hair and reach down, slowly wrapping my hand around his cock.

His head rolls back, eyes fluttering shut.

"Look at me, little Daddy," I say in my deepest voice as I begin to stroke him. "Look at your princess while she plays with your little cock."

He snaps his head forward, staring hard into my eyes, silently telling me I've done it now.

I squirm at the arousing thought, stroking harder. "I didn't mean it, Daddy. I just said that 'cause it scares me. My hand barely fits around it. I've changed my mind, your cock is way too big to ever fit in my bottom. It'll hurt too much."

He's rock hard in my hand now, and I pick up my pace.

"Does it turn you on thinking about your big cock hurting my bottom, Daddy? Does it make you want to pound my tight little ass? Does it make you want to shoot your come inside me while I scream?"

He leans his head back again, breathing hard, but his eyes don't leave mine, as instructed.

"I want to feel your come dripping from my gaping asshole, Daddy."

His jaw clenches. "I'm close, princess."

I grin evilly. "No coming before work, Daddy, you know the rules." His jaw drops and I lick my lips. I am so deliciously screwed.

"Permission to speak, princess?"

"Denied."

"Princess," he growls, absolutely rigid now.

"Be a good boy and control your hard little--"

"Time's up," he snaps, grabbing me and spinning me around until my face is pressed against the shower wall, ass out. Daddy's hard, not-so-little cock rams into me then--making me cry out in alternating bursts of pain and pleasure as he pulls my hips back to meet his thrusts, making the fucking feel that much deeper.

"If I didn't know any better, you naughty little thing, I'd think you were daring me to skip the rest of your training and take your ass right now. Is that what you want, princess?"

"No, Daddy!"

"Some day soon I will fuck your ass and we'll never need your sloppy little pussy again. She'll cry and moan and beg for attention but I'll be so busy riding your ass raw you won't even notice her. Is that what you want?"

"Daddy--"

"Is that what you want!"

"No, Daddy, no!"

"Don't test me, little girl, or that will be exactly what you get."

I cry out even louder, feeling a consuming heat blooming inside me--knowing, no matter how bad I want it, it will never become an orgasm without the help of my throbbing clitty. She's screaming between my legs now, begging for my fingers to touch her and give her what we both want.

"I'm close," Daddy growls again. "And when I come, you're going to imagine I'm pumping into your ass. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Da-ddy--" My words twist into a moan as I feel him release then, his pace immediately slowing, my tortured pussy spasming and aching for relief.

Daddy sags against me when he's finished, catching his breath, and I pant against the shower tile, body buzzing with confusion in the sudden stillness.

When he gently pulls out of me a minute later, he tells me to stay still, returning with a warm washcloth that he uses to rub along my swollen lips and clean away his come.

I moan, resisting the urge to ride his hand, and when he's finished, he kneels down to press a kiss to my plug.

"Daddy loves you, princess."

I whimper, arching back against him, feeling his hot breath on my aching hole--wishing it was his tongue. "I love you more, Daddy."

He smiles, jumping up to his feet with a harsh slap to my ass.

I yelp in surprise. "Daddy!"

"Princess!" he mimics, using his obnoxiously shrill and very inaccurate impression of my voice. Then he steps out of the shower and quickly towels off--holding the same towel out to me next, wrapping me in it like a burrito. He keeps it fastened with his arms as he walks me to the closet.

I'm released once we reach my vanity, where I collapse on the stool--instantly regretting it as pain shoots through my bottom. Daddy presses away a smirk, pretending he hasn't noticed as he rifles through my hangers.

Daddy loves to pick out my outfits. He always has fun curating the perfect ensemble to capture what he calls

modern princess core

. The first thing he pulls free is a set of lacy red panties and a matching unlined bra.

After handing me the undies, he pulls free a calf-length yellow button down sundress and a navy blue button up cardigan. Then he reaches down to grab my oxblood platform Docs from the floor.

"Guess who," he says, grinning as he hands me the outfit, and I smile back up at him.

"Snow White," I say, popping up to plant a kiss on his chest. "Duh."

He smirks. "You're too good at this. I need to find some more obscure inspiration."

I grin, turning around and slowly pulling my panties up so Daddy can watch--feeling back in charge. Knowing that if he plans on getting to work in time, there's nothing he can do about it.

"Don't tease me, little girl."

I spin around to face him while I fasten my bra, arching my back as I do. "What do you mean, Daddy? I'm just getting dressed--"

I burst into giggles as Daddy leans down and grabs me then, biting at one of my nipples through the sheer fabric.

"Daddy!" I shriek--pain fading into tummy-clenching pleasure as his tongue joins the assault.

"Yes, princess?"

"How am I supposed to get dressed when you're doing that?"

"Mmh," he says. "You'll have to figure it out or I'll take the hairbrush to your snow-white little ass."

"Daddy!" I gasp, quickly reaching for my dress, not sure if he's joking or not. He continues to reach out and torment my titties as I pull my clothes on, buttoning the cardigan to the very top.

Daddy is undeterred. "If you think that will stop me, you've got another thing coming," he growls and I giggle harder as he pins me back against the closet door.

"We have to leave in fifteen minutes, Daddy!"

He sighs, hanging his head. "Okay, okay," he agrees, releasing me. "Braids," he says then, reaching for the cherry red beanie on the hook above my head and dropping it into my hands.

I smile as I sit back down at my vanity and brush through my damp hair, pulling it into two braids, watching as Daddy heads to the other side of the closet and rolls on some deodorant.

He's just selected a fitted suit from the rack when I pull my beanie down over my braided hair, completing the look with a thin swipe of mascara.

"How do I look?" I ask him, popping up from my stool and giving him a twirl.

He pulls a pair of black briefs up his legs and leans against his dresser to watch, always fully present for my grand reveals. His lips turn up into a smile as his eyes move across me. "Adorable," he says, almost to himself. Then, with a glance at his cock, which is now tenting his briefs: "Dangerously adorable. Go get the coffee and some waffles going before I decide to cancel my morning meetings and do something about it."

"Yes, Daddy," I say serenely, skipping out of the closet and up to the floor length mirror near our bedroom door, in love with today's look. I pull the back of my dress up, admiring the sparkly plug glistening beneath my sheer lace panties.

"Stop checking yourself out!" Daddy calls from deep in the closet and I smile. He knows me well.

***

The moment Daddy drops me off at work, my light mood darkens. As I unlock the doors to the warehouse and flick on all the lights, I take in the hundreds of garments hung across the space. The dozens of dress forms donning elaborate ball gowns in various stages of completion.

I've worked for Fairytale Apparel for five years now, serving as owner Victoria Livingston's right hand in all things--business dealings, designs, manual labor--and yet she still has the nerve to treat me like the intern she never wanted to hire. She pays me like it, too.

She's a micromanager who belittles me and takes credit for all my work, when the truth is that she hasn't come up with an original design or sewn a single stitch in years. Daddy is always telling me I need to stand up for myself. I need to show her clients who she really is and poach them all when I start my own design company. But that takes capital. And guts. Of which I have neither.

Daddy doesn't like when I talk about myself like that. He frequently reminds me that I have all the capital I'm willing to ask him for--which, as far as I'm concerned, is zero. I feel like enough of a freeloader for not contributing to his obscene mortgage or any of our other household expenses, save the odd grocery trip and the occasional dinner bill that I sneak up to the waiter and pay for. He punishes me for that particular trick when we get back to the car, of course. Bends me over the back of his tailgate and spanks me hard while he reminds me that the point of having a little princess is spoiling her.

The guts aspect of the scenario is a whole other soapbox Daddy frequently stands on. He claims that I'm the bravest woman he knows. The things I let him do to me, alone, are a testament to that. But physical pain isn't the same as the anxiety and self doubt that accompanies putting your entire reputation on the line. My pain games are between me and my Daddy. Starting a business is between me and the whole world, and this excuse is one that Daddy has let me have...for now.

After I finish bringing the shop to life, I head straight to the gown I've been working on all month for one of our high profile clients. It's a gorgeous marigold color with a corseted bodice and billowy layered skirt constructed with the butteriest silk I've ever felt between my hands.

Sexy Belle

is what I fondly call her, and I'll be devastated to see her go.

The moment my ass makes contact with the stool beside the dress, I wince, fresh round of discomfort shooting through me. There's no way I'm going to make it through the entire day with this plug in me. No. Fucking. Way.

Then my phone buzzes to life with a text from Victoria:

Out

My eyes flutter closed. That's how she talks to me--like I'm a fucking dog. What she's saying is that she's not coming into the office today--as rudely as possible, of course.

I look around the lonely warehouse. I've always felt a bit scared to be here by myself, and the throbbing in my ass isn't helping--distracting me from getting anything done.

Daddy will let me take the plug out but only if I have to go number two, and only if I put it right back in.

I sigh, knowing that this morning's double enema flushed away that excuse. But if I'm supposed to get any work done around here, it might be my only shot.

I fire off a simple message:

Hi Daddy, I have to go.

It's not totally a lie because I'm going to

try

to go. At least that's what I tell myself.

He responds immediately, like he always does:

xx

That's his way of giving me permission when he's busy--driving or in a meeting or whatever the case may be.

I head to the bathroom then, heart pounding as I reach for the plug in my ass. I try pushing out and even relubing, but it makes little difference. This plug hurts

bad

. I push through it, bearing down, crying out as its widest part feels like it's ripping my poor little hole apart. Then I whimper as I finally pull it free, taking a few minutes to collect myself--hissing when I stand, the motion re-agitating the intense, lingering ache.

I drop the plug in the sink and clean it thoroughly. Then I stare at the torturous thing, knowing there's no way it's going back in anytime soon. I need a break. Just until six, when Daddy comes to pick me up. As long as I put it back in before then and I immediately confess, he can't be too mad...right?

Right

, I tell myself decidedly, walking back to

Sexy Belle

, feeling like I have a new lease on life when I sit my unplugged bottom back on my padded stool.

***

Time flies when I'm making clothes. Before I know it, it's a quarter to noon and my tummy is just starting to rumble with hunger. I'm pulling out my phone to order some delivery when a soft knock at the warehouse door startles me.