Author's note: All story elements contained herein are fiction and for fantasy purposes, remember to obey all legal and consent laws in real life, thank you and have a nice day.
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Ophelia had a secret.
The secret was, she'd used to have a Daddy. Now that she was married, none of that seemed to matter until the night he'd started talking to her again. She spent a great deal of time alone but something about the idea of her Daddy talking to her was darkly thrilling.
It came back to Ophelia all the times she'd been more than happy to be tied up and thrown around, used on a whim by her Daddy. How much she loved it, and maybe, still did love it.
It had started with simple enough flirting and with the addition of snapchat, fun and sometimes suggestive selfies. Late at night, he would often request them when he knew she was alone and for some reason, that turned her on.
Daddy knew exactly how to get what he wanted out of her, even still. Ophelia didn't want to say no, giving in was a turn on in itself.
It was one night like this when he began to take a more aggressive approach with her. She'd sent him a picture of her in a bathrobe fresh out of the shower, open wide enough at the top to show there was nothing under it. Playful and teasing, just something simple.
"Open it," he'd written back immediately.
Ophelia could almost hear his voice, low and demanding and she flushed a little, feeling the heat spread from her cheeks at the thought of it. The fact that he demanded and did not ask sent a shiver of pleasure down her spine.
