Daddy messages that he’ll be there in ten minutes, and I’d better be ready. I message back that I’m already waiting like a good girl. I was too excited to stay home. Ten minutes feels like forever with the sun scorching my oiled skin. Gold and glitter gleam across my shoulders, my chest, the tops of my thighs. I’m hot and a little sweaty. The green shorts with the pink stripe sit high on my hips. The white little top covers my neck but nothing underneath, no bra, just the pink collar already fastened tight around my throat. I like it on the tightest I can bare, breath hitched in my throat.

Daddys car pulls up, and I squeal, my body responding instantly with a deep pulse between my legs. He winds the window down. I lean in and kiss him right there in the street, tasting mint on his tongue. Then I run around, open the passenger door, and slide in. The second the door shuts, he pulls me into another kiss, deeper, hungrier. He likes the taste of his Cherry on his lips. His hand slides under the white top, palm hot against my bare tit, thumb brushing my nipple until it hardens.

“Good girl,” he murmurs against my mouth. “Already ready for me.”

He reaches into the back seat and brings out a dozen long-stemmed red roses, the petals deep and soft. He lays them across my lap, the thorns carefully stripped. The scent of them fills the car, sweet and heavy. I bury my face in the blooms for a second, then look up at him, smiling.

“For my good girl,” he says, eyes dark.

“Thank you Daddy!”

I show him the collar. He tugs the ring lightly. We drive with the roses resting on my restless thighs, the stems cool against my skin. I want Daddys hands all over me.

We arrive, Daddy pulls me out of the car, and tucks down my top so the collar is showing. He clips on the leash without looking away from my eyes.

“Are you going to be a very good pet for this walk?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Are you going to do everything Daddy tells you?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

He keeps the leash short as we walk. Pine needles soft under my feet. The roses stay in the car, waiting.

“Knees.”

I drop. The dirt is cool and soft. Pine needles stick to my skin. My green shorts ride higher as I settle there, looking up at him. He unzips, pushes his pants down, and the thick head of his cock brushes my lips. I open for him without being told.

I take him into my mouth, tongue sliding under the shaft, cheeks hollowing as I suck. The gold and glitter on my skin catch the dappled light. I can taste the salt of him already, feel the weight of his cock on my tongue as I work deeper. Daddy’s hand stays firm on the leash, the other stroking my hair while he watches me.

“That’s it, good girl,” he murmurs.

I keep going, spit starting to slick my chin, eyes watering a little when he pushes farther. The pink collar is tight against my throat every time I swallow around him. I moan around his cock, the vibration making his hips twitch. My pussy is already soaked inside the little shorts, thighs sticky.

When he pulls me off with a soft tug of the leash, a string of spit connects my bottom lip to the shiny head of his cock. He leads me deeper into the trees, to the open stone outcrop that looks out over the valley. My knees are covered in dirt when I stand.

He unclips the leash only long enough to strip me. The white top comes off first, no bra underneath, just my oiled, glittering tits exposed to the air. Then the green shorts and the thin panties beneath them. I’m bare except for the pink collar. He lays me back on the warm stone. It scrapes my back as I settle, the grit biting into my skin.

Daddy kneels between my spread thighs and licks me. His tongue is flat and slow at first, dragging from my dripping entrance all the way up over my swollen clit. I gasp, hips lifting. He holds my legs open wider and sucks, tongue flicking hard against the sensitive bud until I’m moaning loud enough for the whole forest to hear. My pussy is so wet it makes soft, filthy sounds under his mouth. He pushes two fingers inside me while he keeps licking, curling them just right until my thighs start to shake.

“Cherry,” he says against my cunt, voice low and rough, “you’re such a work of art.”

Then he’s over me, the head of his cock lined up against my entrance. He pushes in slow and deep, stretching me open inch by inch until he’s buried to the hilt. The stone grinds against my back with every thrust, leaving thin red scratch marks. I can feel every ridge of him sliding in and out of my dripping pussy. He fucks me hard and steady, the wet slap of our bodies loud in the quiet clearing. My tits bounce with each thrust, glitter smearing across my chest from the sweat.

I wrap my legs around his waist and dig my nails into his shoulders. “Daddy—fuck—please”

He drives deeper, hitting that spot inside me that makes my vision blur. The collar ring clinks against the stone every time he bottoms out.

“Daddy p l e a s e can I cum”

“Yes pet, now”

I cum hard, cunt clenching around his cock, moaning into the open air while the birds keep singing and the pines stand still. He keeps fucking me through it, chasing his own release, until he buries himself deep and pulses inside me, filling me.

He stays there a moment longer, forehead against mine, cock still twitching in my cum-slicked pussy. My knees are still dirty from earlier. The stone has marked my back. My skin is shiny with oil, glitter, and sweat.

“Still my good girl?” he asks, voice rough.

I nod, breathless, still clenching around him.

“Thank you, Daddy”

“Show Daddy how much you missed him.”

I look up at him, voice soft. “Can I use my tongue, Daddy? My lips… my teeth?”

“Yes, baby.”

I start at his neck. My mouth opens and I devour him, lips dragging, tongue lapping at his skin, teeth grazing just enough to make him feel it. My hands move greedily, grabbing warm skin, sliding over the hard lines of his abs, tracing the edges of the dragon. I press my nose in close, breathing him in deep, drowning in the smell of him while I work my way slowly downward.

I reach his balls and lick them hungrily, messy and eager, showing him exactly how much I missed this. Spit wets everything. I’m already wet and sloppy, mouth open and greedy for more.

Daddy’s voice rolls down to me, low and pleased. “You’re fucking amazing with that mouth.”

I take him deeper. Deeper than I’ve ever taken anyone. The thick head of his cock pushes past the back of my tongue and into my throat, stretching me open until I’m choking softly around him. My collar digs in tighter with every inch. Tears prick at the corners of my eyes but I don’t pull back, I stay there, wet and messy, letting him fill the back of my throat completely.

I’m slavering a lot. All over Daddy. Spit running down his cock, coating his balls, dripping onto the yellow armchair. My hand wraps around the thick shaft, stroking him wet and messy while I take him deeper and deeper into my mouth, throat opening greedily for every inch.

Then Daddy’s hands are in my hair, both of them, gripping hard. He starts fucking my mouth. I go completely still. I become the good, obedient little fuck toy. I let him use me exactly how he wants.

He looks down at me, voice rough and full of praise.

“Such a good little fuck toy for Daddy, aren’t you, my Cherry?”

Tears roll down my face as I try to nod around his cock. He’s moaning, taking all the pleasure he wants from my throat, and every sound he makes makes my slutty pussy pulse hard between my legs.

Then he lets me go.

“Stand up, Cherry.”

I stand. The chain of my leash comes with me, jingling softly.

Daddy’s eyes drag over me.

“You look so good in that dress. I can see your pussy is ready for Daddy.”

I put a finger coyly to my lips and shift my weight, moving oh-so-sweetly like I’m shy.

“Turn around, Cherry.”

I turn.

“Sit down.”

I sit. I sink straight down onto Daddy’s cock and he fills my needy pussy in one deep, perfect thrust. The stretch is sudden and complete, thick and hot, stretching me open until I can’t help the soft, broken sound that spills out of my throat. My hands fly to his thighs for balance, the chain of my leash clinking against my collarbone as I settle fully into his lap.

Daddy’s hands slide under the frilly peach dress, gripping my bare ass hard, holding me down so I feel every single inch of him buried inside me. I’m so wet that the slide is easy, messy, filthy. My pussy clenches around him like it never wants to let go.

He starts moving me. Lifting me just enough and dropping me back down onto his cock, using my body the way he wants. I stay soft and obedient for him, letting him bounce me, letting him fuck up into me from below while I just take it. Tears are still drying on my cheeks from earlier, spit still shiny on my chin, and every hard thrust makes my collar dig in just a little tighter.

“That’s it, Cherry… ride Daddy’s cock like a good little fuck toy.”

I do. I roll my hips when he lets me, grinding down so the base of him presses against my clit with every motion. My tits bounce inside the tight cups of the dress. The dragon tattoo under his open shirt flexes every time he thrusts up hard. I’m moaning openly now, high and needy, completely lost in how full I am.

The pressure builds fast. My pussy starts fluttering around him, that desperate edge rising hard and sharp. I know the rule. I always have to ask.

“Please… please can I cum, Daddy?” My voice is broken, almost a whimper, hips still moving on him because he hasn’t told me to stop.

Daddy’s grip tightens on my ass. His breathing is heavy, cock pulsing deep inside me.

“Yes, baby. Cum for Daddy.”

The second the permission leaves his mouth I break. My orgasm crashes through me hard, pussy clamping down tight around his cock, whole body shaking in his lap while soft, slutty little cries spill out of me. I keep grinding through it, milking him, completely ruined.

Daddy growls and pulls me down hard, holding me there as he comes right after me, hot and thick, flooding my pussy in long, heavy pulses. I clench around him as hard as I can, whimpering through every throb, feeling him fill me up completely.

When it finally slows I turn and collapse against his chest, still impaled, still trembling. My cheek rests over the dragon tattoo. The chain of my leash hangs between us. I’m a mess, spit, tears, and Daddy’s cum leaking out of me, but I don’t move.

I just stay right where he put me, soft and used and completely his.

🍒

She’s the part of me that still bristles when Daddy says crawl or stay or open. The part that wants to dig her heels in and refuse, even when my body already knows how to obey. Especially then. Because the more perfectly I move, the more the beast snarls that I’m disappearing.

I don’t know exactly when she was born, but I know she was small once.

I remember being little, actually little, and learning that adults could take things without asking. My toys. My space. My voice. Someone would decide it was time for bed or time to stop crying or time to be good, and if I said no, the no got taken too. So I started keeping a private, furious corner of myself that no one could reach. A place where I stamped my feet in secret. Where I promised myself I would never again be soft enough to be moved against my will.

That corner grew teeth.

When I got older it became the voice that said don’t let them see you need anything. Don’t ask. Don’t lean. Don’t melt. Because melting meant they could shape you, and being shaped had always hurt. The beast learned to protect me by making me hard. By making me difficult. By making sure that if anyone tried to collar me, literally or otherwise, there would be a fight.

So when Daddy puts the leash in his hand and expects me to follow, the beast wakes up furious.

She doesn’t understand the difference between the old kind of control and this. She only feels the command and remembers every time my no was ignored. She wants to raise her head and bare her teeth and say I am not yours to move. She wants to stay frozen on the floor just to prove that I still can. That some part of me remains unclaimed.

But the deeper part of me, the part that chose this, that asked for the collar, that stays even when it aches, knows the truth the beast can’t see yet.

This obedience isn’t the same as the old forced silence.

This is the first time I’ve ever been allowed to give it freely.

And that terrifies the beast more than anything, because if I give it freely… what happens to the wall she spent my whole childhood building?

So she paces inside me while I kneel.

While the conversation continues above my head.

While the leash stays slack and I am left waiting, ignored, trained.

I understand the beast. That’s why I never shame her. I soothe her. I’m teaching her moment by moment that she is safe. I’m taming her little by little.

I stay on my knees and feel the ghost of every mark he has left on me tonight.

The slap still lives under my skin like a second pulse. The place where his hand closed around my throat remembers the exact pressure that made the room tilt. The bite on my earlobe throbs in time with my heartbeat, a small, private bruise that no one else can see. And the long, aching stretch of being ignored, of kneeling here while he talks and laughs and treats me like furniture, settles deeper into my bones with every passing minute.

The beast hates all of it.

She wants to call it cruelty. She wants to drag up every old memory of being hurt without choice, of being small and powerless and told to be quiet about it. She paces and snarls and tries to convince me that this is the same. That I am once again being broken open without protection.

But I know the difference now.

This harm is safe because I can feel the edges of it. I know exactly where it stops. The collar is still on my neck by my own agreement. The leash is still in his hand because I handed it to him. If I needed the world to stop, it would stop. That knowledge sits under the sting and the denial like a soft floor I can always fall back onto. It is what lets me lean into the pain instead of bracing against it the way I used to.

I used to think any hurt meant I had failed.

That if someone marked me, I had been too soft, too visible, too easy to reach.

The beast was born from that belief. She learned to fight everything that tried to touch me too deeply.

Here, the marks are proof of the opposite.

They mean he saw the part of me that still wants to run, and he met it with strength instead of distance. They mean he is willing to hold me through the resistance instead of punishing me for having it. The slap, the grip, the bite, the deliberate ignoring, all of it is him saying I will not let the beast take you from me, and I will not let her take you from yourself either.

And somehow the beast is starting to listen.

Every time she rises up ready to fight, she is met with calm, steady hands that do not shame her for existing. Hands that simply wait, and hold, and teach her, moment by moment, that this time the pain has a container. That this time she is allowed to feel everything and still remain safe.

So I stay.

My knees ache. My thighs tremble. Wetness has long since slipped down the inside of one leg and I do not wipe it away. I keep my head bowed and my mouth soft and my body exactly where he left it. The beast is still there, restless and suspicious, but she is quieter now. She can feel the container around the harm. She can feel that this time the pain has a beginning, a middle, and, eventually, an end that will include his hands again, his voice, the quiet return of being seen.

Safe harm is the only kind of hurt that has ever made me feel more held instead of more alone.

And so I wait inside it,

breathing through the sting,

letting the denial work its slow, deliberate magic,

trusting the man who put me here to decide when I am allowed to come back into the light..

while the beast, little by little, learns that she no longer has to fight alone.

I do.

“Stop”.

I do.

My breathing is heavy. Invisible claws itch under my skin, wanting to dig into the floor. I’m frustrated. Edgy. It started when Daddy began talking with his friend and left me frozen in place. There’s a beast in me that wants to stand up, stamp her feet, snarl fuck this shit and walk out. She’s stubborn. But a deeper part of me loves the way this tastes, and she stays. She holds the beast down. My eyes flicker wicked. My pussy clenches.

Time stretches.

“Crawl, Cherry”.

I move. I’m getting closer, so much closer, to Daddy and his friend. I want to be a good girl. I don’t want to embarrass him. I want him to show that his pet is thoroughly trained.

“Stop”.

A small sound of frustration slips out of me before I can catch it.

Daddy stands. He picks up my leash and pulls me firmly back to the start.

Fuck. I fucked up. Fuck. This is driving me mad. I hate it and I love it at the same time.

“Kneel”.

I drop. I know he can see the pout trying to form on my face, but I force it down. He nods once.

“Are you going to embarrass me in front of my friend, little pet?”

“No, Daddy.”

“You’re going to make a noise again?”

“No, Daddy.”

His hand cracks across my face. The sting blooms hot and sharp, sinking deep into me. Gratitude floods in right behind the pain. I lick my lips.

“Open your mouth, Cherry.”

I open. He wraps his hand around my throat and squeezes hard, then harder, then spits into my mouth. He leans in close and bites my earlobe so savagely. I make no sound at all. His voice is a low, controlled threat against my skin.

“Do not embarrass me in front of my friend, pet. Understood?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“On all fours.”

My body obeys instantly.

“Let’s start again, shall we?”

He returns to his chair and to the conversation with his friend as if nothing happened.

Daddy doesn’t look at me while he settles into the chair again beside his friend. The conversation resumes like nothing happened, low, easy, adult voices talking about things that don’t include me. I’m not part of it. I’m the quiet, crawling thing on the floor, and part of me is delighted.

He doesn’t check if I’m moving yet. He just expects it.

“Crawl”.

My palms and knees press into the floor again. Slow. Controlled. No sound. The frustration still burns under my skin, that restless beast that wanted to stamp and snarl, but I keep it locked down because I already saw what happens when it slips out. The slap still lingers on my cheek. The taste of his spit is still in my mouth. The bite on my earlobe throbs in time with my pulse.

I keep my eyes down. Good girl posture. Ass up just enough that the air cools the wetness between my legs.

“Stop”.

I do

His friend says something that makes Daddy chuckle. The sound is warm, casual, completely at ease. Like having his pet crawl across the floor while they talk is the most natural thing in the world. I feel a flush climb higher up my neck and reach my cheeks. I want to be the reason he’s proud, not the reason he has to correct me again.

“Crawl”.

I reach the midpoint. Still silent. Still moving.

Closer now, so close I can smell him. Leather, skin, the faint trace of whatever he was drinking. My pussy clenches hard at the nearness. I keep my breathing steady even though it wants to turn ragged. No noise. Not even a soft hitch.

Almost there.

Daddy’s voice stays conversational with his friend, but his eyes finally drop to me. He watches the last few feet of my crawl. Watches the way my thighs tremble with the effort of staying quiet and controlled. Watches the way my mouth stays soft and closed.

When I reach his feet he doesn’t immediately acknowledge me. He lets me wait there on all fours, head bowed, leash slack in his hand, while he finishes whatever point he was making. Only when the conversation pauses does he glance down properly.

His fingers find my chin. Tilt my face up just enough that I have to meet his eyes.

“Better,” he says quietly, so only I hear it. “Stay.”

Then he turns back to his friend like the matter is settled.

I’m left kneeling at his feet, close enough to feel the heat of his leg, close enough that if he wanted he could simply open his pants and use my mouth without ever interrupting the conversation. The beast in me still wants to writhe, still wants to make noise, still wants to demand. But the deeper part, the part that loves how this tastes, holds still.

Waiting.

Trained.

His.

Minutes stretch.

I stay exactly where he left me. Knees aching. Wrists starting to complain. The leash rests loose against the floor, a quiet reminder that I could be yanked back or pulled closer at any second, but right now I am simply… ignored.

They keep talking. Laughing softly. The kind of easy conversation that belongs to people who have nowhere else to be and no urgency. I am not part of it. I am furniture that happens to breathe. A pet left on the floor while the adults continue.

The beast starts pacing again inside my chest.

It hates this. Hates the stillness. Hates that Daddy’s hand isn’t in my hair, that his eyes aren’t on me, that his voice isn’t giving me something, anything, to obey. It wants to shift my weight, to clear my throat, to press my cheek against his shoe just to force a reaction. It whispers that I could make a tiny sound, just enough to make him look down again. Just enough to remind him I’m here.

I don’t.

I hold the position. Head bowed. Ass still lifted the way he likes. Mouth soft. Breathing measured. The wetness between my thighs has become impossible to ignore; every small shift of air makes me feel how slick I am. My clit pulses in time with my heartbeat, neglected and demanding. The deeper part of me drinks it in, the denial, the public indifference, the knowledge that I am being displayed and yet completely overlooked.

That part is almost drunk on it.

I count breaths to keep from moving. Ten. Twenty. Thirty. The conversation drifts somewhere above me. I catch fragments, work, a shared memory, something about a bottle of wine, but none of it is for me. I am not invited. I am the silent thing at their feet who already failed once and is now being given the chance to prove she can endure being forgotten without making a sound.

My thighs begin to tremble from holding the posture so carefully. I lock them. The beast snarls. The deeper part soothes it with the memory of the slap, the spit, the bite. Be still. Be good. He will notice when he wants to notice.

A drop of wetness slides down the inside of my thigh. I feel it travel and I do not react. I do not wipe it. I do not adjust. I stay exactly as he left me, a quiet, aching, thoroughly trained little pet, waiting for the moment Daddy decides I he wants to use me.

🍒

How my cunt swells and starts to drip the second a thought of Daddy takes hold, soft and heavy between my thighs, already aching to be filled. How saliva pools under my tongue and threatens to spill, my mouth watering for something it hasn’t even tasted yet. How every inch of my skin tingles like static, nipples tightening, stomach flipping with those sharp, restless butterflies that feel more like hunger than nerves. I’m so hungry for him.

The excitement floods me so completely I can barely stand still, heat rushing up my chest, pulse hammering in my throat, my whole body buzzing and restless and already halfway gone.

We walk home from the bar in my short velour baby-blue dress, my new underwear branding my ass with good girl and the collar around my neck branded Daddy’s slut, I can’t get there fast enough. I can’t be on my knees quick enough.

We climb the stairs to his apartment in silence, my heart pounding so hard I can feel it in my empty cunt. He orders me to go first and stand by the wall. Eyes down. Wait like a good girl.

“Yes, Daddy.”

I freeze exactly where he told me back against the wall, gaze locked on the floor, the short dress barely covering anything. Cool air kisses the wetness between my legs. The leather collar sits tight against my pulse, the words pressed into my skin like a brand. I hear him move inside the flat, keys on the table, jacket shrugged off, shoes off. The silence stretches until my breathing turns shallow and my fingers twitch at my sides with the desperate need to drop to my knees already.

He steps back out of the door and moves close to me. I smell his skin, the night still clinging to him. His voice is low, almost amused.

“Look at you. Walking home like that. Panties wet. Cum already starting to drip down your thighs just from the idea of being on your knees. My little slut couldn’t even wait until we got inside.”

Two fingers tilt my chin up, forcing my eyes to meet his for a heartbeat before he lets them fall again. The order comes soft and absolute.

“Go inside and get on your knees.”

I walk through the door and drop so fast my knees hit the floor with a soft thud. The hard surface bites into my skin through the thin fabric of the dress. His hand slides into my hair and fists it, sharp enough to make my scalp burn and my pussy clench. The sound of him pulling his pants over his hardness makes my mouth water. I open for him before he even has to say it.

He feeds me his cock in one slow, relentless push until my nose is crushed against his stomach and my throat is stretched full. I gag, tears pricking the corners of my eyes, spit already spilling down my chin, but I don’t pull back. I stay open. I stay soft. Exactly how he trained me.

My cunt is dripping onto the floor between my knees. The baby-blue dress is shoved up around my hips and every time he thrusts into my throat I feel the cool air on my bare, aching pussy. I want to touch it so badly it hurts. I want to grind against my own heel. I don’t. Good girls wait and I am a good patient girl. I am.

He holds me there, choking on him, while his free hand strokes over the collar like he’s reminding me what I am. The ownership in his touch makes me dizzy. I can barely think. All I know is the thick stretch of him in my throat, the burn in my lungs, the way my empty cunt keeps fluttering and leaking for him.

When he finally eases back just enough for me to breathe, the words fall out of me ruined and wet and desperate around the head of his cock.

“Thank you, Daddy.”

I mean it. God, I mean it. My thighs are shaking. My mind is already gone. I stay on my knees, mouth open, waiting for whatever he gives me next, because this is what I crave, this is what makes me feel alive, and I will stay right here until he decides I’ve earned the right to use the rest of me.

I haven’t touched myself in a week, and I feel it. The ache is constant. My body is screaming at me to slide my hands between my legs. She wants her release. Greedy little pussy. But Daddy said no, so I didn’t, even though I wanted to over and over. The thought of Daddy in the throes of hedonistic delight swells me, makes my pussy drip, but I was good. Daddy will be proud.

Everything tonight is adding to my arousal. The soft velour of my short baby-blue dress chafes against my bare nipples. The hot city air teases my naked pussy with every step. I love to walk past all the people, knowing they have no idea what I’m about to do, what I would do for Daddy.

Daddy said no underwear. So here I am, walking through the city like his wanton, needy whore in my short dress.

Daddy is already sitting outside the bar when I turn the corner. My pussy clenches at the sight of him. Our bodies crash together and I steal greedy kisses.

“That’s enough.”

I pout.

“Sit down, Cherry.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Are you naked underneath that dress?”

I flash him my bare, freshly shaved pussy. He licks his lips. I would love nothing more than for Daddy to plunge his fingers deep inside me and see how I’m soaked for him.

“I have something for you. Hold out your hand and go put them on.”

Something lacy and metallic is pressed into my palm. I want to peek, but people would see. I rush to the bathroom and unclench my fist.

A black lace thong with “Good girl” written across the back in shiny lettering. So trashy. So Cherry. I put them on and check them out in the mirror. I nod, Cherry is such a good girl.

I return and order a Mezcalita. Daddy runs his fingers over the words through the thin fabric of my dress.

“You’ve been a good little patient pet, haven’t you, Cherry?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

We share stories, catch up, steal touches and kisses between sips; I distract my greedy tongue with licking the salt from the rim of the glass. When really I want to be on my knees licking the rim of Daddy’s cock.

Whilst I’ve spent weeks aching, empty, denied Daddy has been out in the world collecting pleasure. Hands, and mouths and bodies making him feel good. Instead of jealousy, all I feel is this quiet greedy hunger for him to have more of it, and it tastes delicious.

“I’m so greedy for you Daddy, I want you to have all the pleasure, and know I’m ready to come and crawl at your feet whenever you call”.

That clearly stirs something in him “Finish your drink and follow me to the bathroom.”

It’s a single bathroom right in the middle of the bar, not conspicuous at all. We walk in with the confidence of two shameless people who prioritise pleasure and play. Daddy locks the door.

“Look what I have for you.” He pulls out a necklace that says Daddy’s Slut. “Because you are both, aren’t you, pet? My good girl and my slut.”

I nod. He places it around my neck, and I’m now branded exactly as I am. Daddy’s perfect contradiction. His Slutty good girl. I wear them with pride.

“On your knees, Cherry. Show Daddy how much you missed him.”
“Yes Daddy”

I ignore the grimy toilet and the dirty floor. I’m on my knees in front of Daddy’s hard cock. I pull his trousers down and take him into my mouth, worshipping that cock like it’s the Holy Grail. Daddy’s hands find the back of my head as he thrusts into my open and needy mouth. I want more, I want it all. I want Daddy to bend me over and take me in all the ways.

Someone tries the door, and Daddy pulls his cock from my mouth.

“Time to go, my little slut.”

I groan. I stand, adjust my dress, catch my slutty reflection in the mirror, and grin like a Cheshire cat as Daddy leads me out by the hand. I want people to see us, I want them to know what I would do.

The night is only beginning, and I already feel like this filthy kitten is ready to be ruined.

Why do I crave?

And crave I do.

I crave crawling across the floor to Daddy. I crave to be a used, spoiled thing. I crave gentle kisses and reassurance. I crave to understand myself and invite in the depths of my depraved fantasies.

Hello. My name is Cherry. I’m a new little. After all the kind words and warm welcome, it felt time to say hello properly and introduce myself.

I never imagined myself a little. I thought they were too sweet, too safe, too compliant, too innocent. And yet here I am. Here is learning. Here is allowing. Here is opening. Here is Daddy.

I’m a walking contradiction, and I like it. I like the way it feels in his hands, in my body.

On one side, I crave nothing more than for Daddy to tell me I’m a good girl while I kneel, all soft and sweet, his compliant little thing. On the other, I am something I still can’t fully name: a wanton, greedy little whore who looks up through doe eyes and wants Daddy’s cock in every single hole. To be ruined and spoiled by his hands. His sweat dripping. His spit hitting the back of my throat. His hand tight around my neck. I want his kisses soft and careful. And I want his wild. I call him obliteration, and I seek it at every moment.

Daddy blindfolds me and ties me with rope. He stands steady behind my back as people whisper in my ear and ask if they can play. My reply. Daddy is in charge. You have to ask him.

I’m riding Daddy’s cock. Naked except for my pink leather collar and the leash that bounces against my bare chest. My breasts bounce as I try, and fail, to take him deeper and deeper.

I’m on my knees. Daddy gave me a pillow to kneel on because even when he wants to ruin me, even when he wants to use me, he still cares for his little Cherry’s comfort. Right now both of his hands are on the back of my head. He is hitting the back of my throat with his cock and I take it. On pillowed knees.

Daddy bends me over the kitchen counter. I think the neighbours can see, and I like it. I want them to see how glorious Daddy looks when he fucks his pet.

Daddy takes me to the shower. “Time to wash this filthy kitten.” Then he pees all over me. Marks me. I sleep well.

I wonder if I’ve spent my whole life chasing that obliteration in unhealthy places. Drugs. Empty sex. Mindless scrolling. This feels different, contained. And somehow the breaking, the yielding is putting something back together that was shattered a long time ago.

To hear ‘ Daddy is so proud of you’ has healed a lifetime of wanting.

I’m still learning. I still get it wrong. I still push when I should be patient. I should be patient. I should practice being patient. I should be a good girl and do exactly what Daddy says. And sometimes I still feel like a feral wild cat is scratching at my own skin, ready to break out and devour him whole.

But I’m here. Crawling. Opening. Craving. Needy. Slutty. Messy. Swollen. Loyal. Soft. Filthy. Owned. Ruined. Hungry. His. Used. Marked. Claimed. Spent. Sore. Filled. Drenched. Broken-open…and all I c r a v e is more.

So, thank you for coming along for the ride. I guarantee it will be messy and sticky and I’m sure I’ll make mistakes, but I’ll share as openly and honestly as I can and always aim to make Daddy very proud.

🍒

I do want to add: I am a consenting adult. Everything that you will ever read is fully consensual. I’m drawn to consensual non-consent. Safe words have always been agreed. I trust my body, I trust my no, and I trust Daddy. That foundation is what allows me to explore this way safely. I choose to infantilise myself. It is healing me in ways I never could have imagined.

Daddy doesn’t answer me, Daddy doesn’t look at me. He simply holds the cherry between his fingers, turning it slowly so the light catches the dark skin. I watch the way juice already threatens to leak.

My breath hitches. I want him so close it hurts. Why be this near and not inside me, touching me? I would crawl. I would beg. I would do anything he asked if he would just close the last inch between us.

“You want to know why I like my Cherry?” he asks, voice low and warm. It moves over my skin and I shudder.

There is an insolent part of me that wants to say I don’t care. Fuck the reasons. Just use me. Fuck me to oblivion. Bite me. Mark me. Ruin me. This distance is killing me.

But I only think it. I nod instead, because I am still trying to be good even while I am starving for Daddy.

“Because you’re soft and dark and sweet… and I like to spill your juices.”

He bites into the cherry while I watch. The wet sound of it makes my stomach tighten. Juice runs over his thumb. He doesn’t wipe it away. He lets me see it.

I want to lick it from his skin. I want his teeth on me instead of the fruit. I want every bit of attention that cherry is getting.

Then he takes what’s left and drags it slowly along the inside of my thigh. Cool. Sticky. Higher. Higher. My body lights up under the smallest touch. I would give him anything for more.

He rubs the cherry gently against my swollen clit. I gasp. Cold fruit against hot, aching skin. My hips lift without permission. He keeps the pressure light, almost kind, almost cruel. Perfectly Daddy.

“This is what I want to do to you,” he murmurs. “Take something perfect… and use it, ruin it in ways only I am allowed. Isn’t that right, Cherry?”

“Yes, Daddy,” I whisper. I would say yes to anything.

He presses. Slow. Steady. The cherry slips inside me. Small. Cold. Shocking. I clench around it with a broken sound. I am already close. I would cum just from this if he allowed it.

When he draws it out it is warm and slick with me. He holds it to my lips.

“Open.”

I do. Without hesitation.

“Eat it for me.”

I take it. Sweetness. Salt. Him. Me. I swallow everything he gives me.

He strokes my hair.

“Good girl. That’s my Cherry.”

Then his lips are almost on mine. So close I can feel his breath. I do not move, even though every part of me wants to close the gap. I would kiss him until I couldn’t breathe if he let me. I would stay on my knees for hours. I would take whatever he wanted to put in my mouth, my cunt, my hand, anything, just to be used by him.

“Open.”

I open. Mouth. Legs. Everything. There is nothing left of me that isn’t his.

He spits onto my tongue. Cherry juice mixed with my own Cherry juices mixed with Daddys saliva. I accept it like a gift.

I would do anything for Daddy.

I already do.

“Now Cherry, I’m going to turn you over and fuck that tight little ass of yours.”

The sound that escapes me is pure desperation. Daddy hears it and shakes his head, a small, knowing smile on his lips.

I want to flip over right now, push my ass up into the air and offer it to him. But I force myself to stay still. I stare into his eyes, into everything he is, and wait.

“I’m going to flip you over,” he says, “but I can see you’ve been a really good girl today, Cherry. Practising your patience. So I’m going to give you a treat.”

He reaches for another cherry. I groan. I feel like a feral little beast held back only by invisible ropes, ready to break free the second I’m allowed, except I don’t want to escape. I only want Daddy all over me.

He bites into the second cherry. Dark red juice wells up. He takes it and slowly slicks it over his hard cock. My eyes widen with pure delight. Now I want that juice.

“Lick it clean, Cherry.”

I do. With the eagerness of a little who cannot contain herself. My tongue works over him, greedy and thorough. Soft groans slip from my mouth around his cock. Daddy grabs my ponytail and guides himself deeper, fucking my mouth in steady strokes until the oblivion I’ve been craving starts to wash over me.

He pulls me off. I whimper at the loss.

“Ass in the air, baby.”

I flip over immediately, pushing my little kitten ass up and back toward him, wiggling it shamelessly.

“Such a greedy little pleasure kitten, aren’t you?”

He slams into me in one hard thrust. A torrent of praise pours out of me.

“Daddy, that’s so good, Daddy, I love your cock inside me, please don’t stop, Daddy”

Daddy loves words of affirmation. I can feel it in every deep, punishing stroke he gives me.

“Daddy loves Cherry’s tight little ass.”

I wiggle back onto him, taking him deeper.

I cum against Daddy’s hard cock. Body racked with pleasure.

Daddy pulls out and I feel his hot wetness spread across my ass cheeks.

Spoiled and messy by Daddy.

I slump forward onto my front, arms stretched above my head, the silliest, most blissed-out smile plastered across my face. Daddy reaches and pops a Cherry in my mouth.

I’m a very happy Cherry 🍒

I’ve been here for hours.

Daddy gives me fluid from his mouth. My breasts are bare. My pussy is soaked, swollen, dripping onto the seat beneath me. He has edged me until the edges of who I am have blurred. I only exist for him now. For his needs. For whatever he decides to take.

It’s time again.

I hear the low hum of the toy in his hand as he steps close. I am raw. I am needy. I am shameless. And still I am overwhelmed, too much and nowhere near enough at the same time. I am already lost.

The vibration touches my sore, over-sensitive cunt. I pull hard against the ropes. A broken sound leaves my throat.

Why won’t you stop?

Daddy doesn’t.

Daddy doesn’t look at me.

Daddy doesn’t acknowledge me at all.

My whole body trembles, toes to scalp. Raw, filthy sounds pour out of me. I cannot hold them back. He keeps going. I am obliterated again and again. I need it to stop. I want it to stop. And I never want it to stop.

Tears slip down my face. My throat is raw. Both sets of lips are swollen. I buck so hard the chair threatens to tip. Daddy’s hand clamps tight around my thigh, grounding me, calling me back into the moment.

I erupt.

Over and over.

The vibration owns me.

Then it stops.

Silence.

As much as I begged for it to end, I immediately want it back. And I don’t. And I do. The contradiction tears through me. Euphoric disaster. I am a disaster. I would destroy myself for him. I would let him obliterate me completely if he asked.

I am left alone with the aftershocks, hands tingling behind my back, cunt still pulsing, heart cracked open.

He leaves the room and continues his ordinary day as if I do not exist.

A dark, quiet thing uncoils inside me that loves this. Loves that Daddy can use me however he wants and then ignore me completely when I am nothing but his little fuck toy. Minutes pass. Or hours. I no longer know.

When he returns, the first touch of the day is his fingers shoved into my mouth. I take them greedily. My tongue works over them, wet and desperate. I slobber. He pushes deeper until I gag, then pulls them free.

Those same fingers find my tender, swollen cunt.

Daddy does not go slow.

Daddyy does not go gentle.

Something has come over him today, and he is taking it out on me. I welcome every bit of his wildness.

He fingers me hard and deep, palm pressing against the soft inside of my pelvic bone. I am inches from squirting. Sounds leave me that barely sound human, high, broken, animal. I come against his fingers again and again, water spilling out of me, soaking the chair, soaking my thighs, soaking everything.

Just a ruined, shameless, filthy little thing.

Nothing left but what he makes of me.

When the last racks of pleasure finally leave my body and I begin to settle, Daddy clamps his teeth into the side of my neck. He bites hard. Then his mouth moves to my ear.

“Mine.”

Every cell in my body rearranges itself around that single word. I give myself to him completely.

I feel the tension leave him. Whatever he needed to work through today is finished.

Gentle kisses begin to rain across my face, my neck, my shoulders as he unties me. My legs are too weak to hold me. He lifts me carefully and carries me to the bed. He strokes my face. Pulls me close. I nuzzle into the warm skin of his neck, breathing him in, the scent of him, the heat of him, and I let myself disappear into it.

I drift into a deep, peaceful sleep, still marked, still claimed, still his.

I’m wearing my frilly lilac underwear with good girl embroidered in white, no bra, just my tight nipples poking through the lace of my dress. My pussy is freshly clean-shaven. Just how Daddy likes it.

I hitch my skirt higher so I can see the purple teeth-marked bruises blooming on my thighs. I love to be marked by Daddy.

I kneel and wait with anticipation like the wanton little whore that I am. I think of all the things I want Daddy to do to me. How I hope he’ll touch me. But in the end my wants are irrelevant, really, because I am Daddy’s little fuck toy and he can do with me what he wants.

He commands things of me that make me lose myself, make me pray to a God I no longer believe in.

Daddy stands from the computer and the sound of his footsteps activates my body, leaving me wet, dripping, aching for him. I do not move.

“Come here, kitten.”

I look up at him through my eyelashes.

“Yes, Daddy.”

I crawl slowly. I know Daddy likes me to be slow. Even when it pains me. I want to rush, to get there so quickly, to consume Daddy, but Daddy says no. And Daddy gets what Daddy wants, always.

So I take my slow time, like the kitten I become for him. The chain of my leash drags along the floor, attached to my pink leather collar. Collared for Daddy.

When I reach him I kneel up and keep my eyes down. I feel Daddy reach for the leash. He jerks it up so I’m looking directly into his face. I can see how hard Daddy’s cock is through his trousers and I know he sees the mischief reflecting in my eyes. I almost reach out to touch him. I want to touch him and lick him and take him in my mouth so badly.

He walks away, my chain in his hand, pulling me behind him. He stops. I stop. He reaches for his red shibari rope.

“Now Daddy is going to tie your hands because he knows what a greedy little slut you get and he wants you to behave. Will you be a good little slut for Daddy?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

He stands behind me. I can feel his breath on my skin as he grabs my hands together behind my back. Which is so mean, because all I desperately want to do is touch him. Stroke him. Feel every inch of his skin. Oh well—I can always use my tongue.

He roughly ties my hands, then wraps the excess rope around my waist, tight. I squeak. He pulls me back into him and kisses my neck, hand at my throat.

My body starts to thrum with the energy only Daddy can create in me. He whispers in my ear.

“Such a needy little slut for Daddy, aren’t you.”

“Yes, Daddy. So needy. Please, Daddy.”

“Please Daddy what?”

“Please may I have it.”

“What does my little fuck toy want?”

“I want your cock, Daddy. In all my holes. But please first in my mouth.”

Daddy laughs and pushes me away from him. He stands and walks in front of me. I can’t stop looking at him. Devouring him with my eyes. I want him so bad.

He takes one step closer and I’m enveloped by the smell of him. He stops. He knows this drives me crazy, that I’m just a wild kitten who wants to take him all. He takes another step and pushes his hard cock into my face. I rub my face against the cloth of his trousers, against his cock. My pussy throbs so hard it’s like she has her own heartbeat.

He grabs a handful of my hair and pulls my head back.

“You are going to be a good little kitten for Daddy, aren’t you.”

I nod vigorously.

“Yes, Daddy.”

“You want it so bad, don’t you, my little cherry.”

“So bad, Daddy. So bad. Please, Daddy, please.”

“Take my trousers down.”

I don’t need to be told twice. With my hands tied behind my back I’m all teeth and enthusiasm. Like a wild beast whose only need is to eat, and I need to eat Daddy.

The material keeps slipping from my teeth; I have to use my tongue. Daddy says I have a very naughty tongue. She can never get enough of his skin, his taste; she always wants more.

I do it. Success. Daddy stands naked in front of me. Magnificent.

“Open up, baby.”

I always do as I’m told.

Daddy teases his cock close to my mouth but pulls my head back so I can’t reach it.

“So needy, aren’t you, my little kitten?”

“So needy, Daddy.”

“Open.”

He plunges into me. Hitting the back of my throat and my body sings. I soak my frilly underwear. The pulse between my legs now throbs in rhythm with Daddy’s thrusts deep into my throat.

“Such a good girl for Daddy. Taking him all. That’s it, baby. Use your tongue.”

Saliva drips from my mouth as I worship Daddy’s cock. I know just how Daddy likes it and I oblige his every desire. I am his pleasure toy.

He puts both hands on the back of my head and thrusts into my wet and needy mouth. I want to swallow Daddy whole. It’s never enough. I’m very greedy when it comes to Daddy.

He stops. I moan. He pulls me up, standing, and bends me over the side of the bed.

“Hmm. Which hole should Daddy take first?”

I wriggle my ass. I love Daddy in all my holes. I have no preference, only to please him.

He starts to play with me with his fingers.

“Such a wet little slut for Daddy, aren’t you.”

I’m not allowed to cum without Daddy’s permission. So if I’m close I need to tell him. I feel embarrassed that I’m so close, but I say:

“Close, Daddy.”

He laughs and stops.

“Noooo, Daddy, please.”

“Be patient, baby. Do your breathing.”

I do as I’m told, very reluctantly. My body screams. She wants her release but we do as Daddy tells us. He knows how hard it is for me. He plants gentle kisses up my back.

“Such a good baby girl for Daddy.”

I melt.

“Let’s go again, and this time control yourself.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

I am such a needy slut but I do my best. I focus on my breathing and let my breath slowly flow up my body. Keeping my energy within. Just as Daddy showed me.

He can feel the build-up again.

“Does baby girl want to cum?”

“Yes, Daddy. Please, Daddy.”

“Ask nicely then.”

“Daddy, please can I cum?”

“Yes, baby girl.”

I erupt around his fingers. My pussy clenches and releases in waves. My body shudders. I let out loud moans. Daddy’s hand is dripping wet. He removes his fingers and plunges them into my mouth.

“Taste what Daddy does to you, baby.”

I lick at Daddy’s fingers with my greedy tongue. I love how Daddy makes me taste.

Then Daddy pulls back. His hands find my skin. Stroking his little kitten.

“I love to see you tied up and bent over for me, my little cherry.”

A new wave of pleasure courses through me at his words. It continues to pulse, thrum just under my skin. He rubs his hard cock against me and my body pushes back of her own free will. Grinds into Daddy.

“So needy.”

Then he nudges his cock to the entrance of my pussy. I stop still. I want to push but I know Daddy doesn’t want me to. He enters when he wants. Once he nudged me and I pushed against him. He got up and walked off, left me there like a naughty little whore in punishment. I learned my lesson.

Sometimes Daddy fucks me slow and takes his time with me. Sometimes his wild comes out to play and his beast takes me rough and hard. I love it all. Today we are starting slow. Daddy grinds into me to the music. I get lost in the rhythm.

Then I feel the shift as Daddy’s wild takes over. His teeth sink deep and hard into my back and he does not let go as I buck against him. Then he is in me. Fucking me hard. Lost in his little fuck toy.

He whispers in my ear.

“I’m going to use my little fuck toy a little rough today.”

He bites me again. Harder. I let out a scream and feel his hand clamp over my mouth. The other pulls my hair so my head snaps back.

“You like it when I fuck you like this, don’t you, baby girl?”

“Yes, Daddy. So much.”

Again teeth tearing at my skin. He does not go easy. It hurts so much but I love to take it for him.

My needy cunt swells and clamps around him. Gripping his cock so tight. I’m so swollen.

“Daddy, I’m close.”

This time he lets me loose.

“Cum

on

my

cock

baby girl.”

And I do. My release is strong and he holds me down with his hands pressed deep into the small of my back as my full body convulses. He continues to pound my pussy and I unleash a holy rapture into his hand.

“That’s right, baby. Cum for Daddy. Show me what I do to you. Such a good girl, baby. I’m so proud of you.”

He unties my hands as my body is lost in a cocktail of pleasure. It feels so good. My hands tingle as they come back to life.

Daddy flips me onto my front and kisses me. Then pushes me back down to the floor. On my knees where I belong. His hard cock glistening with my juices, my neediness. I smile with wicked delight because I know what Daddy is about to give me. No words needed. He nudges his cock to my mouth. I taste my slutty, juicy cunt once more. I slobber for Daddy. Take him deep. Then I feel it. His seed soaking my mouth, dripping down my throat. And I drink Daddy in. Gulp him down as if I’m eternally thirsty.

“Such a filthy little kitten for Daddy.”

I smile up, all doe-eyed, Daddy’s cock still hard in my mouth.

Daddy says I’m a greedy little pleasure machine because I can cum over and over and still always want more.

Such a greedy Cherry for Daddy.