Two entries in one day! Phew!!!All day it was all I could do to keep my mind on my work. Shave. He told me to shave. Certainly couldn�t have been referring to my legs. No. Those were shaved already, had been shaved the previous night. No. He had to mean down there�. Brazilian I believe they called it. Which meant that he was planning on seeing it.
The first thought that went through my head is the same that every woman thinks about� I needed new panties. After work, I immediately went to the lingerie store and purchased a cute pink lacy pair of bikinis with a matching push-up bra. I went home, did the necessary shaving, then dressed in a pink angora sweater and ivory skirt, under which the new lingerie supported everything nicely, and ivory ballerina flats.
I looked at the map that had been faxed over. I imagined him drawing this out, putting the little X where his home stood. At 7:00, my heart beating madly, I took what had to have been the 74th look in the mirror at myself, tousled my hair, pulled on my leather jacket and was on my way to his home.
I didn�t want to be late again.
The map lead me through a fairly nice neighborhood, past large homes and estates which had their own zip codes, to where the houses began to get further and further apart, finally giving over to complete wilderness, large trees, firs and birch. At 7:25, I had driven up and down the road he had indicated four times, but there were no homes to be seen. I started to panic� I didn�t want to be late. I picked up my cellphone and dialed his number. At least I had remembered his card.
�Hello?� His voice, sending instant shivers up my spine.
�Hi, this is Lauren. I-um� I can�t find your house.�
�Hi Princess� where are you right now.�
�I�m on road that the map says your house is on but I don�t see a house.�
He directed me to finding his mostly hidden driveway. There I drove up a winding, curving blacktopped road surrounded by trees. After a quarter of a mile, I came upon a fairly large two-story gabled log cabin. He was waiting for me, standing on the porch, his breath turning the air white around him.
�Wait there.� He said into the phone. �I�m coming to get you.�
I hung up the cell and watched as he strode down the walk. He reached my door and opened it.
�Hey Princess.� He said, smiling.
�Hi.. Daddy.� I said, a little nervous, unbuckling my seat belt.
�Good girl.� He nodded. Then he reached under my legs and picked me up out of the car like a little girl. I gasped, amazed that he could pick me up at all. He kicked the door to my Cherokee closed, and then carried me up his walk. I put my arms around his neck, uneasy. He looked down at me, giving me another shiver, and said �This walk is a little icy� don�t want you to hurt yourself in those little dress shoes of yours.�
We walked through his open front door and he kicked it closed behind him. He carried me into one of the most beautiful living rooms I�d ever seen. Two stories high with an eight-foot long fireplace and pine and leather furniture, it was classic, tasteful and masculine. We walked over to the fireplace and he set me down on a fluffy alpaca skin rug before the fireplace. There, he removed my coat and slung it over a brown leather loveseat. He knelt down and removed my flats.
�You should warm up fast enough here. Would you like something to drink? I have hot chocolate, tea, wine, liquor, or would you prefer a diet Coke?�
�Hot chocolate would be fine.� I said, putting my feet to the fireplace, smoothing my hand along the rug that was incredibly soft and luxurious.
He turned down the lights, leaving the room illuminated only by the glow of the crackling fireplace, and returned with a steaming mug of densely rich hot chocolate. I smiled when I saw that he had floated several marshmallows in it. For himself, he had a tumbler with ice and a finger of what might have been scotch. He sat in the armchair facing the fireplace and I turned to face him, tucking my legs beneath me, trying to sit ladylike in a skirt.
�Getting warm?� He asked, sipping his drink.
�Yes, thank you Sir, much better.�
�Good. Tell me about your day.�
I told him about my day at the office, about the petty little office politics, about a power struggle I had been forced to break up, about a late lunch meeting I had after our phone conversation. Then I mentioned going shopping afterwards.
�What did you buy?� He asked.
�Girly stuff�. Panties and a bra.�
�Mmmm� wearing them right now?� He asked, raising his eyebrows inquisitively.
I blushed. �Yes.�
�Want to show me?� He said.
I thought for a moment. Then I opened the first two buttons of my angora sweater, pealing it back to show him the strap and upper cup of the bra.
�Very nice. Such a pretty girl.� He looked at me contemplatively for a bit. I merely held his gaze, refusing to drop my eyes. �You look flushed. Are you getting warm there?� He leaned forward, felt my cheek.
�A little.�
�Would you like to take off your sweater?�
�Would you like me to?� I asked him.
He smiled. �I like that you�re so willing to please me. It seems to come naturally to you. Yes, it would please me if you did.�
I unbuttoned the remaining buttons and slid it off my shoulders. Any hint at self-consciousness was gone as I sat there in my bra, skirt, and stockings, but it did feel unnatural, so I reached around back and unzipped my skirt.
�Did Daddy ask you to remove your skirt?� He asked, chastising.
I froze. �No� Daddy.�
�Did you ask permission?�
�No Sir.�
�You�re such the eager little girl, aren�t you� eager to show off for me? Did you shave as I asked?�
�Yes Sir.�
�Good� then you may remove your skirt.�
I rose, kneeling on the rug and unzipped my skirt, then stood, let it drop on the rug and stepped out of it. Standing before him in my bra, panties and thigh high ivory stockings, I got a flash of inspiration. I put one foot on the armrest of his chair and slowly unrolled the stocking. He watched as my fingers traveled down the length of my leg, stopping at the foot for a moment, so that I was leaning forward, giving him a good glimpse of my ample cleavage. Then I removed the stocking, stood up, put the other foot on the arm of the chair and repeated it. I kept my eyes on him the entire time, watching as his breath thickened, as he twirled his fingers against his glass of scotch.
�What now, Daddy?� I asked, fully into my role as submissive.
He smiled at me. �I liked you sitting at my feet quite a bit.�
I pouted a bit, but sat as I was told at his feet. I had expected that he would have been all over me after the Marilyn Monroe routine. Usually once I plied my charms, men couldn�t keep their hands off my body. I stretched my legs out towards the fire and watched the light play with my curves, turn my skin golden. I leaned back and rested my head against his leg. He sighed and his hand rested on my head, smoothing my hair gently.
�Tell me what you�re thinking about all of this.� He said quietly.
�Well�� I said softly. �You�re unlike anyone I�ve ever met. You can suggest something and I do it without question, willingly,� which is something I�ve never done before. I probably shouldn�t even be telling you this, and I don�t know why, but you have me completely wrapped around your finger.� I had said more than I planned.
I heard the ice cubes in his drink rattle and he took a thoughtful sip. �That�s because there�s something inside you that you�ve been hiding�. Some niche in your psyche that I fill.�
�Yes. Exactly. You�re very strong and commanding but at the same time, such a gentleman and take my breath away�. You�re somehow both strong and incredibly gentle at the same time.�
�You need to be careful, princess. I�m becoming quite fond of you. I�m not always gentle. Even though I can care about you greatly, the closer we become, I can be very rough.�
�There�s nothing wrong with a little rough play.�
�No, there isn�t. And sometimes I like a little sweet lover and sometimes I like a little slut who can�t get enough of me�. Does this excite you, being nearly naked at my feet?� He said, and tangled his hand into my hair.
�A bit.� I whispered.
�Sit up, princess. Face me on the rug.� The safety of his hand left my head.
I sat up, moved two feet forward and turned to face him, posing in my best imitation of a centerfold model.
�Tell your Daddy what you want, babydoll.�
�Want you Daddy.� I said, a little girl voice coming from nowhere.
�Do you want to cum for Daddy?�
I nodded, thinking about him taking me on the rug, right then, in front of the fire, like some kinky bodice-ripping romance novel.
�Mmmmm� Daddy wants that too. But you must give over ownership of that little pussy to me first. That means no touching without my permission. You will keep it shaved for me. And you may only cum when I say so. Do you understand?�
I nodded.
�Say it.�
�Yes Daddy, I understand.�
�Good girl.�
