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Baby Girl Diaries: Part One
By
DanicaKiernan

Baby Girl Diaries: Part One

That’s how he likes me best, at his mercy.

There are trails of ice drawing across my skin, and his wet tongue follows the path. It’s like fire following the ice, the contrasting temperatures sending shivers of pleasure down my spine. The silk ropes bit gently into my wrists as I flexed away from the new trail of ice along my spine and I groaned, rocking my hips, heat and wetness soaking my core. I turned my head to look back at my Daddy, the thick blinding lace over my eyes blocking most of my vision only allowing me to see him in spots of light. His head is dipping down my back, the ice glinting in the light, his wicked heated tongue following to soothe the chilled skin. His big hands are gripping the flesh of my hips, even though I’m tied up and can’t move, holding me in place. That’s how he likes me best, at his mercy.

This is what our relationship is. A give and take of pleasure and pain, of tension and release. Everything I’ve ever really needed…and he’s never pushed me past my limits, edging them, changing some of my soft limits into yes’s, but never going over the lines we have made together. This is what true respect, submission, and Dominance are. I shut my eyes against the soft lace and let myself go to him, trusting him. He feels the tension in my body release, and I can almost feel his smile as he grips my hip tighter, and his words slide over my skin, wrapping me in delight.

“That’s my good Baby Girl.”

 

                                                                        *`*

 

It was six months ago we first met.

It was a random meet, admittedly. I had posted something innocuously on an app about wanting a treat. I was at my job, unhappy, bored on a dreary rainy day. He happened to reply, inquiring what kind of treat I wanted. I wasn’t about to let a stranger give me candy, or Dunkins (which happened to be the treat I was craving) so I just played it off as a joke. Somehow though, we struck up a conversation. He was a gentleman, never perverted, never pressed for photos, never asked for anything more than I wasn’t willing to give. Over time, we became close friends. Even though I worked so much, and he was retired, I still spent much of my time talking with him, when I could manage it. Just little conversations about similar interests, video games, books, movies, music, and photography…anything and everything, much like you would with any friend. We had a lot in common, considering our age difference. I was twenty-eight, he was forty-five. I didn’t think about it then, and even now, it still doesn’t bother me. He was a friend. A good friend.

It changed one night.

I was sleeping, and I woke up from a wet dream. It was graphic and left me breathless. I had already stripped bare for the night, leaving myself in my panties and a thin cotton tank top. The usual boring pajama fare. My panties were drenched with need. I rolled onto my back, and scooped my phone from its usual resting spot. 4 am. Three hours until my alarm went off for work. I groaned and rubbed my eyes, the need burning my skin, my clit throbbing with desire. I thumbed it awake and saw a message. We had been talking until I fell asleep and he wished me good night as always, which I didn’t always return. I sent a message back, wishing him a good night as well, with an emoji.

“You’re awake already?” He replied.

“Just woke up,” I texted, my heartbeat accelerated. I didn’t want to tell him I had a naughty dream and had to now masturbate to get back to sleep.

“Jesus little girl, get back to bed. You’ve got work in a few hours.” I could almost hear his voice, hear the authority and it sent shivers down my spine. 

“What, you my Daddy?” I wrote back, not thinking, sassing. It was what I did best. 

“If I was you’d be over my knee already, and then be back in bed with a bright red bottom.” The message was a quick reply, and I had an instant heat between my thighs, glowing hot coals of want there. 

This interaction also gave me pause. We had never gone here before. It was flirting. Definitely flirting. This made my face heat. I had dabbled a little in BDSM, in being a Little, but it had been a long distance relationship, and it had ended badly.

“Sorry. That was over the line. You still there?” He wrote again, a worried emoji coming across the screen. I could feel the sincerity of his voice through the text.

“Yeah, yeah still here. Not over the line. Just…unexpected. From you. You’ve never…uh..” I typed out and sent, leaving the ellipsis, the trailing off as I tried to put it delicately, pulling my lower lip into my mouth to suck on.

“Never hit on you? Acted like a gentleman? Yeah. That’s because I am.” He wrote back quickly. “Then why the change…?” I replied, shifting slightly on the bed, rolling to my side. My clit still burned, but the desire was retreating, my curiosity shifting forward now.

“Ah shit. Well. I’ve been looking for a new playmate, and you kind of caught me at an awkward time…” He put in a laughing awkward face. I immediately flushed. Oh. He was awake at 4 am. My friend was a night owl for sure, but he was a man. He was jerking off. While looking for a playmate…I felt my pussy cream with excitement. God. Was he thinking about me?

“Are you thinking about me?” My fingers typed and sent the message before I could even consider the consequences of the question.

“As a playmate?  Are you serious? You never said you were into that.” He wrote back quickly.

“ I mean, I use to be…I still kinda am, I just haven’t had a Daddy in ages…” I replied, feeling crippling shyness crawl over me. I was so horny still, but his eagerness made me feel excited, and eager. Something I hadn’t felt in so long, I almost felt sick in a way.
“Well, you weren’t like…ever… I never thought of you like that…I mean. Shit.” His reply was kind of garbled. I understood why.

He was right. We had never really talked about sex. It just had never come up before this point. I rolled completely onto my stomach and swung my feet into the air, pushing my thick red curls out of my eyes. I gently rocked my hips back and forth, rubbing my clit against the mattress, easing some of the tension. The friction helped me feel good. I pictured him, a dark figure behind me, his hands encasing my ass, spreading my lips, dipping his fingers under my panties, tracing the outskirts of pussy, before plunging his fingers into the depths of my wet needy cunt. I cried out softly, almost cumming from the thought of this near stranger, whose face I’d yet to see, plumbing my throbbing tight pussy with his fingers.

While I was lost in thought, rocking my hips against my mattress, imagining him fingering me, my good friend, Jay, as he’d told me to call him, messaged me four times.

“Would you like me to consider you as a potential playmate?”

“Tell me, truthfully, are you really interested or just messing around?”

“Are you still there? I ran you off didn’t I?”

“Please, don’t tell me I did. I’ll back off. You’re such a sweet girl. I don’t want to scare you off with my talk. We can forget this whole thing.”

I noticed my phone going off, snapping me out of my day dream and picked it back up. I was quick to reply.

“No no, don’t go. I don’t want to forget it. Sorry. I was distracted. Um.” I sent it quickly. And then realized how bad it sounded.
“Fuck. Not like that. Fuck. Oh god. You must think I’m a slut now. Um. No. Shit. Fuck.”

He sent a laughing emoji and then responded.

“Jesus Baby Girl, you scared me. I thought you had just run off on me. Just when I was getting excited again.” He sent a wink emoji. “Would it be too much to ask for a selfie? I haven’t asked at all because I figured you would share when you wanted…” he said. He was so polite.

I worried my lip, and in the dark, I took stock of myself. My hair was definitely bedhead, I definitely didn’t have makeup on, I probably had bags the size of Texas, and my chest, which is smallish, was not pushed up to its best assets. Selfie? Probably not a good idea.
“Give me five minutes.”

Shit. Not what I intended to send, I thought. I worried my lip, rolled out of bed, and rushed to my bathroom, flipping the light on. Sure enough, my hair was bed crazed. Curly, and going every which way. I did my best to try and make it look alluring at least but it wasn’t having it, so I just let it be. I slapped some light foundation on, trying to conceal the worst of the bags under my eyes, slicked some highlighter on the inner corner of my eyes, and then curled my eyelashes and brushed some mascara on. My deep hazel eyes were as good as they were getting. Slicking a light pink gloss on I stared at my small tits. I could leash them in a push up bra, which did not sound like fun at 4:30 in the morning, or throw on an oversized flannel and hope he didn’t ask about my bra size. Flannel it was. I shimmied out of the tank top, found the flannel hanging on my metal bed frame and slipped it on. Then slipped back into my bathroom, and took a few selfie shots, before deciding on which made me look the best. Almost ten minutes later and two messages from him, I was ready to send it.

“You still alive? You said five minutes…”

“it'sits too much trouble to find a good one, you can just wait til tomorrow!” He obviously was feeling guilty.

I felt my legs tremble as I sat on the edge of my bed. I hadn’t shared my picture with a virtual stranger in a long time. I blew out a long breath, shuddering. This could be bad. But it could be amazing. It could be the beginning of something new and amazing. And I needed it. I didn’t realize how much until this moment how much I missed wearing a collar and being someone’s, belonging to them.

I loaded the picture into the app without preamble. And sent it. Then flopped back onto my pillow. And waited.

I didn’t have to wait long.

“Jesus. Are you serious?”

“…Ummm.” I replied. I wasn’t sure if he meant it as a good thing or a bad thing. I waited a minute.

“You’re so beautiful.” I sighed a breath of relief. He could just see the edges of my curves in the photo, so he knew I wasn’t a stick figure by any means too, which he seemed okay with so far.

“Thank you. I look a little rough since you know its like 5 am…Haha.”I smiled deeply though. I could almost feel his approval radiating through his text. It made me glow and warm from the inside.

“So I’d like to talk more about you being a playmate…obviously you probably want to see me…but I want you to rest. You have work in a few hours. I’ll forward you rules, and a limit sheet we can go over together. And I’ll send a selfie when you get up. Does that sound good, sweetie?” I nodded, but realized he couldn’t see me.

“Yes. Very much so…I’m excited. And very nervous.” I replied, being truthful. The truth was always best, especially when entering into any kind of BDSM relationship. 

“Me too, but I am also hard as a rock.” He sent a winking emoji and I moaned softly, rolling my hips in response. God. I wanted him, even without seeing him. Again I could picture him, a dark figure in my mind, gripping me, hovering above me, eyes watching me. “Good night, Baby Girl.”

I wasn’t sure if I should respond with Daddy yet so I held back, and replied “Good night.” It was the hardest thing I'd yet to do in our conversations. 

That dark image of him didn’t move from my mind. I set my phone down, and could still almost feel him in the room with me. I felt his eyes watching me as I unbuttoned the flannel between my breasts, and let it loose. My nipples were hard and tight, and my panties were completely soaked with my need. The soft cotton fabric was so wet, I could see the outline of my pussy. I wanted to take a picture of it for him. I flushed hard and groaned, squirming my hips, laying back against the bed. 

 I slid my hand down my soft stomach, and under my panties. I dipped my fingers between my lips, and brushed them against my clit and whimpered with need. It wouldn’t take much to bring me there. I parted my legs slightly, picturing him there, between them, watching me bring myself to pleasure. My breath came harder as I rubbed my clit, lifting my hips slightly, arching my back, offering my body to him. I was his already, even if we hadn’t gone over everything. Even if I hadn’t seen his face yet. From that first moment of realization that he could be thinking of me, I was gone. Lost to a stranger, who had turned into a friend. I shuddered and my body became a live wire of need, and my orgasm bore down hard on me, my pussy throbbing and squeezing, aching with its emptiness. I needed him already. My voice echoed as I cried out his name into the early morning hours, cumming harder than I had in years, my whole body thrumming with it.

“Daddy!” 

With that single cry and orgasm I sealed my future. 
 

 

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