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Halloween Eve

An adult babygirl visits her Daddy the day before Halloween


It’s the Saturday before Halloween; the big Halloween party night. It was our favorite holiday, his and mine, and he’s gone, so I really don’t care this year, I pretended it wasn’t coming, I skipped the parties thrown by friends at school, though now I do wish I’d bought pumpkins and carved them and put candles inside and salted and roasted the seeds. I also wish fall was in the air; I miss the damp, melancholy romance, the cold swirling fog, I miss San Francisco; Halloween in San Francisco.

But it’s the Saturday before Halloween, and Daddy Pete is giving me a second chance tonight; things are looking up. He stopped seeing me after I pissed him off by asking for something dumb like getting drinks at a bar or an ice cream cone down the street from my apartment. I’m an exhibitionist of sorts; Pete is very tall and I’m very small and I love our size difference and just wanted people to see us together; also I was hoping for some public Daddy-girl interaction. Nothing turns me on more than a pinch on the thigh in public, some strict words spoken into my ear when other people are around... being told I can have only a virgin drink at a bar when what I really want is tequila. Alcohol and Daddy... I suppose I’m all messed up from my childhood with an alcoholic, another Pete, long ago. I must admit I love the taste of beer and marijuana in Daddy’s mouth. But regardless of what I wanted or what fantasy I had or what taste I enjoy, it made Daddy Pete not want to see me for a while.

But tonight I have a second chance. Tonight Daddy tells me to dress and feel like a little girl, and to wait for further instruction. I shower and make up my face. I usually have Daddy at my apartment, and I dress in lingerie, babydoll nighties, or Hello Kitty panties, but tonight I’m going to Daddy’s house for the first time ever. (I’m wildly curious about Daddy so of course I am thrilled to be invited to his house, and am also pleased that it means he trusts me to some degree.) Worried about cops and drunk party-goers, I asked Daddy if I can dress normally tonight, meaning not sexy or skimpy, and he agreed and told me to be safe. Now I dress quickly in skinny jeans, a fitted baseball style tee shirt and my skate shoes... for the first time, I’m dressed like a teenager for Daddy. I split my hair into two pigtails, and right then Daddy sends me a text message telling me to come to his house now. Perfect timing-- I grab the fancy beer out of my refrigerator that I’d gotten for Daddy and go down to my car.

Daddy lives about half an hour away. Once I arrive in Daddy’s neighborhood, I park my car quietly and text Daddy to tell him I’ve arrived. He comes to his door to greet me; I see his tall, dark shadow in his doorway, and my heart starts to beat faster, fluttering in my chest like a hummingbird. I’m nervous and scared, and I should be scared: Daddy is a scary mother fucker. The phrase “still waters run deep” describes Daddy. Like a lake at night, you just never really know what’s going on under his cool, smooth surface, really.

We say hello and he leads me through the darkened house and out to the area behind the house where it’s quiet and cool and we can see the lights of San Diego in the distance. He’s drinking a cup of wine and offers me some, and offers me a homemade bong. I hold the contraption up and examine it, laughing. Daddy laughs too and says, “Yeah, it’s real ghetto.” I like this moment, because it feels like we are friends. I place the beer I brought on the table. Daddy’s dog, a friendly pit bull, puts his head on my leg for attention and petting. (I like the feel of his soft, white chest hair.) Daddy Pete smells clean, like soap, and I imagine his hair is damp, though I can’t tell for sure. I make some small talk about the view and muse aloud about what direction we’re facing; I have a terrible sense of direction and am always turned around.

After indulging this conversation for a short time, Daddy leads me back inside, into a room. It might be his room, there’s a bed in the room, and a sofa and a television, and a cross on the wall; it’s a large room, but there’s nothing personal inside it and it’s very uncluttered. Maybe it’s Daddy’s room and maybe not.

As I’m thinking about this, Daddy tells me to stand up. He always tells me to stand up, I’m not sure why. He tells me I look cute, “So cute, baby,” he says. This always dissolves me, his telling me I look cute and calling me “baby”... My worries and thoughts start to float away and I’m becoming Daddy’s submissive little girl, no longer a woman in my 30’s with all my problems and adult concerns. I only want to please Daddy and do what Daddy wants now. And what Daddy wants now is to use me, my mouth and my pussy.

Daddy kisses me, bending my neck and pushing my head backward, his tongue forceful and strong against my tongue, inside my mouth. He gives me orders like, “Open your mouth,” and “Stick out your tongue”. It feels like an invasion when Daddy kisses me... not a soft, exploring kiss, but a demanding, aggressive kiss. My knees go weak and sometimes even buckle when Daddy kisses me and rubs his tongue all over my lips, teeth and tongue. Sometimes he gets annoyed and tells me again, “Open your mouth!” I want to tell him that my dentist even says I have a small mouth... but he’s not about to listen to any of that now, so I just open my mouth as wide as I can.

Somehow I end up on my knees (and whether I slid to my knees or Daddy ordered me there, I don’t remember. Some parts of my time with Daddy are always crystal clear, in perfect focus, magnified, even, while other parts are a blur of tears, Daddy’s voice, Daddy’s hands, Daddy’s cock. Time goes quickly and time moves slowly and time stops during the course of our scenes.) Daddy puts his cock in my little mouth, and I suck it and press with my lips while I move my tongue around, and Daddy’s cock gets bigger and harder till it touches the back of my throat and I gag and try to pull my face back, but then Daddy’s hands are in my hair, controlling my head, shoving my face toward his body, shoving his cock deep inside my mouth, not caring that he’s hitting the back of my throat so hard, so hard that I can’t get enough air and my eyes are streaming hot, involuntary tears. Daddy is so rough.

Then Daddy pushes my face away and looks down at me, and I’m ashamed of my drooling and my runny nose. Daddy has something behind his back, but I can’t imagine what it is because my eyes are watering and it’s dark... but when he shows it to me, I see that it’s a belt.

I’m confused. Daddy’s never hit me with a belt before... he grins, and that’s the last thing I see, because he reaches down and fits the belt over my eyes. I feel the thick leather, cool and oddly comforting, and a slight pressure as he tightens the loop of leather. It turns me on, and I feel a sudden, heavy pressure between my legs. My blood pulses and my clit throbs. “Daddy...” I whisper, desperate to get fucked now, and Daddy replies in his quiet, scary way, “Daddy’s going to fuck your little pussy, baby...” and there’s the rubbery smell of a condom, and then Daddy’s cock is inside me, deep inside my pussy. Daddy knows what I need. He fucks me with the belt over my eyes, and it feels so good, and it hurts, and I grunt like an animal and lift my hips and push myself against him, trying to come, and feeling the carpet rubbing roughly against my back with each of Daddy’s thrusts, and then he turns me over and fucks me from behind, like a dog, and he puts the belt around my neck and pulls it tight, and I try to control my panic and keep my breathing to little sips of air. I can barely breathe, and I know Daddy wants me to press on his leg with my hand to give him a signal if I can’t breathe, but I like the way it feels, like Daddy controls every part of my me, even my breath, and Daddy’s fucking me and I don’t want him to stop. I feel like I’m going to come, and I tell Daddy, “Daddy, can I?” and he says, “Yes, baby, come...” and I come in a huge clench of muscles and little tiny sparkles behind my eyelids.

Daddy keeps fucking me, every which way, until I’m sore and exhausted and I beg Daddy, “Please come, Daddy...”

Daddy laughs at this. “Oh, you want me to come?” he asks. “All you had to do was say something.”

I’m not sure why he laughs, but I find out when Daddy pulls out of my pussy, puts his cock back in my mouth, now tasting bitter like latex, and starts choking me with it again till I’m crying and gagging, and then Daddy pulls his cock out of my mouth, strokes it a few times with his fist and then shoots his cum all over my face, all over my eyes, hot, sticky, and humiliating. He shakes his cock and uses the head to spread the cum all over my face while I whimper and sniffle. “Look up,” Daddy says in his scary voice. I open my eyes, looking through my sticky eyelashes, completely embarrassed. He laughs and points me to his bathroom, and I turn on the water, laughing to myself, at myself, feeling calm and free and clean and pure. "Thank you, Daddy," I whisper into the air, and I splash warm water on my eyes.

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