Daddy's Pretty Baby

by Cassandra Dee

  “Unnnh!” I cried again. “Oh god!”

  And he growled as I rolled through another orgasm, never moving his fingers, just letting his hand enjoy the spasms as my flesh convulsed, gushing ambrosia all over his digits.

  “That’s right baby girl,” he ground out, eyes ablaze, never leaving my form, dick hard as rock within his pants. “Give it up for Daddy, let yourself go little slut.”

  And I screamed once more, legs jerking spasmodically as he stroked my cunt and anus.

  “Mmmmph!” I shrieked. “Mmmph, oh gawwwwd!”

  And suddenly, the world went out like a light. My first time doing touchy feely was so amazing, so ungodly exciting, that the little death overtook me. Everything went stark white and then just as quickly, pitch black, and my limp limbs dropped to the lounger with thunks, head lolling to the side like a drunkard. Just a few leftover twitches shook my frame, like an earthquake’s aftershocks.

  But thankfully, Mr. Lancaster was right there. The big man caught me in his strong arms, lifting my lifeless form into his lap and cradling me, gently stroking my curves, keeping me warm.

  After a few seconds, the light reappeared. “Ummm?” I murmured, coming to, nodding groggily. “Unnh, what happened?” I asked, words garbled, voice bleary. My mouth felt like it was full of cotton, head reeling and woozy. Where was I?

  But then it all came rushing back, and I jerked upright, gasping with shame. Oh shit, oh shit. I was pressed up against my employer’s broad chest, huge tits just inches from his mouth, pussy still creaming wetly, staining his pants. I was gonna be fired, my first day was gonna be my last, I’d just crossed an unseen line, hooking up with my boss within fifteen minutes of meeting him.

  But Mr. Lancaster merely smirked, one big hand lightly caressing a breast, stroking the softness before tweaking a nipple and making me gasp.

  “You came hard, little girl,” he rumbled. “You like being fucked, don’t you? You’re a very fuckable little girl.”

  I flushed red then because I didn’t have an answer. As a virgin, I think I’d like having sex, I think it would be an amazing experience if the past fifteen minutes had been anything to judge. But I didn’t have a certain answer to the question, so I said the only thing that made sense.

  “Yes Daddy,” I murmured obediently. “I’m yours to fuck however you want.”

  And the big man rumbled deep in his throat then, blue eyes alive.

  “That’s right,” he intoned, gaze intense. “Melly belongs to Daddy now. Can you say it little girl? Can you repeat after Daddy?”

  And with a brave nod, I took a deep breath and obeyed.

  “Melly belongs to Daddy,” I repeated, looking deep into those commanding eyes, letting the blue swallow me. “Melly belongs to Daddy.”

  And with that, my three months began. Three months of what, I’m wasn’t sure, but all I knew was that I wanted more of Robert Lancaster, I wanted to go wherever he would take me, to let him use me, seduce me, love me … and I was going to enjoy every second as Daddy’s little girl.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Robert

  Melissa arrived at the dinner table just a few minutes late, slightly out of breath.

  “I’m so sorry,” she apologized, seating herself at the big table. “I didn’t mean to keep you waiting.

  I ignored her, taking my napkin off the plate and spreading it over my lap. The brunette would learn fast enough, she’d be up to speed in no time given what happened this afternoon. The little girl showed plenty of promise, the ability to be a star student, just as Angela had hinted.

  Because I’d gotten an urgent call from my aide this morning.

  “Mr. Lancaster,” came the woman’s voice. “I’m sorry to bother you, but the housesitter has arrived and I think you’ll enjoy her services,” she said courteously. My eyebrows raised. The last woman who’d come had been okay at best, I’d sent her packing after one week. Oh yeah, Katrina had been into DD/lg play, but that psychopath had been way too into it. She’d completely lost her mind, letting out great belches like she was a baby who couldn’t control herself, throwing tantrums three times a night. Shit, even I don’t go that far.

  So I was skeptical when Angela called, but then again, my assistant knows her stuff and has been at my side for years.

  “You sure?” I grunted into the receiver. It was morning in Buenos Aires, and I was sunning myself by the pool with a drink in hand.

  “Absolutely,” came Angela’s voice, confident over the phone. “You’re gonna enjoy her.”

  So I grunted and hung up, standing and stretching slowly. Buenos Aires is fucking awesome in the summer and I was having a blast, the women with their huge asses, gazongas bared at the beach like it was no big deal. But still, I didn’t have a girl here, and wanted to have some private time with a true baby. And shit, the experience of training a new one? A good one? It made my blood rush and dick hard, breaking in a new girl can be fun if you’re a good Daddy.

  So I chartered a plane, hopping Stateside within a couple hours. And sure enough, there was a beautiful brunette sunning herself by the pool when I arrived at Valley Pine. Whatever her name was, she was fucking gorgeous. Laying on a lounger, her curls spread beneath that curvy form, skin gleaming in the sunlight. And fuck, but she was wearing the tiniest bikini, fabric patches just barely covering her snatch and areolas. It was crazy, where did they even sell suits like this?

  But Angela had been right. The woman was just my type, exactly up my alley. Mel, or Melly as I like to say, blew me away, she was docile without being a robot, adjusting immediately to my commanding ways, listening and picking things up on the fly.

  “Daddy,” she said, experimentally rolling the word on her lips. “Daddy want to lick?”

  And fuck, but yes, I did. There was nothing more that I wanted to do than to taste that pink snatch, the girl pulling her bikini bottoms to the side to show me her slit. But it wasn’t the time. The ground rules hadn’t been set yet, so I reined myself in and shook my head.

  “Naw, after dinner baby,” I growled. “After dinner, Daddy will sample you.”

  And here we were now, at the table, the two of us. I was still dressed in my black suit but Melly had thrown on some clothes, and they were ridiculous. I guess they were okay for the outside world, but they were ludicrous given our relationship.

  As the steak was served, I looked over her coolly.

  “Did you read your contract?” I asked, voice smooth.

  “Yes,” her head bobbed. “Yes definitely.”

  “Well, why aren’t you wearing the clothes in your closet then?” I asked, taking a bite of the succulent meat. “Why are you wearing this garbage?”

  Melly flushed a bit.

  “This isn’t garbage,” she stuttered, outraged. “This is my nicest skirt and sweater, I wore them to interview yesterday. And these are my nicest shoes!” she protested.

  I took in her outfit with distaste. Yeah, I guess the sweater was a cashmere of sorts, the cheapest kind, a wool blend. And the skirt was okay, a pencil with a slit up the back, but it was nothing special. The only saving grace was her shoes. Those Mary Janes were hot, exactly what a little girl should be wearing.

  But I didn’t let on. Instead, I merely took another bite.

  “Did you at least look in your closet?” I asked again, giving nothing away. “Everything there is tailored to your size.”

  And here, Melissa stopped eating. She put her knife and fork down and took a deep breath before looking up at me.

  “I wanted to ask you about that,” she said slowly. “The stuff looks adult sized, but it’s kids clothes.”

  I merely chewed some spinach then, my expression giving nothing away, totally impassive.

  “So?” I queried. “What’s the problem?”

  Melissa looked stumped, completely puzzled.

  “Well, I’m not a kid,” she explained slowly, “so I figured those clothes must be someone else’s, they belong to the girl who usually lives in that room.�
��

  And I put down my knife and fork then, slowly wiping my lips with the napkin.

  “You’re the girl who lives in that room,” I said softly, eyes intense. “You’re the one who belongs there.”

  But Melissa just shook her head.

  “I mean the girl who usually lives there, not me. I’m just here for three months as your housesitter,” she said forcefully, meeting my gaze.

  And I turned back to my food then. Ah ha, a spicy one. These are always the best ones to break in, their submission is so sweet when it comes, their little girl ways such a contrast to big girl habits.

  “Melissa,” I said again mildly, once again slicing into my steak. “I’m going to ask again. Did you read your contract?”

  And she nodded vehemently.

  “Absolutely, Mr. Lancaster,” she said. “Every word.”

  This time, I put my fork and knife down once more.

  “Then did you read page 82, paragraph 167?”

  The girl’s mouth dropped open.

  “Well yes, I’m sure I did,” she stammered, “but it was really long, so I don’t remember all of it. Remind me?”

  I looked at her, shaking my head.

  “Well if you read it, then you know that it’s your responsibility to wear the clothes in that closet while you’re here,” I stated, my voice clipped. “You’re not to wear these so-called rags, I hate looking at them,” I added, averting my eyes like the skirt and sweater were offensive.

  The brunette guffawed then, her mouth hanging slightly open.

  “Mr. Lancaster,” she said slowly. “I’m sorry, I must have missed that paragraph, there were like a thousand paragraphs in the contract.”

  “Two hundred and thirty-two,” I interjected mildly. “I know that contract inside out.”

  She merely shook her head, trying again.

  “I’m sorry if I missed that part, but like I said, the clothes in that closet are for little girls. It’s all frippery sundresses, things covered with teddy bears and bows. It’s ridiculous! I can’t wear those!”

  And this time, I let my anger show.

  “You do not decide what you can and cannot do,” I rumbled, expression thunderous. “Go back upstairs right now and put something on. Then we’ll continue our conversation.”

  A myriad of emotions crossed the brunette’s face, shock, bewilderment, anger, and finally dawning realization. Because if she wanted to talk to me, if she wanted to earn her keep, then it was best to listen to Daddy, to do his bidding. So scooting her chair back, slowly the female made her way upstairs before coming down after ten minutes, dressed in a new outfit.

  And I smiled as she seated herself, like nothing was wrong, that it was merely a normal dinner as always.

  “That’s much better,” I rumbled approvingly, eyes trailing over her curves. “I like my girls to be look nice, and you’re suitably dressed for a meal now.”

  Because Melly was clothed in a pink empire waist dress with a unicorn stenciled on one side and a trail of flowers embroidered at the hem. A big pink bow in her hair complimented the outfit, complete with ruffly white ankle socks and her own black patent Mary Janes.

  “Like I said, beautiful,” I complimented, taking another bite of dinner. “Now eat and we’ll talk.”

  Melly sat for a moment, staring at her plate before taking a deep breath and cutting into her steak, hands slightly shaking. I get it. It’s strange wearing little girl clothes when you’re an adult, but kudos to my new recruit. She caught on fast, and knew not to bite the hand that feeds her, I was her meal ticket, her source of income. And after a few chews and an audible gulp, Melly took another deep breath.

  “Mr. Lancaster,” she said slowly. “This tastes really good, can you pass the béarnaise sauce please?”

  Wordlessly, I handed the small bowl to her, watching as the girl spooned a bit of the creamy dressing onto the side of her plate, perfect with asparagus.

  “That’s good baby girl, Daddy wants you to eat up,” I rumbled. “Now isn’t this better? We can enjoy our meal together.”

  Melly looked about to say something but caught herself and merely nodded, taking another bite.

  “Good,” I rumbled like nothing was wrong. “Because we can have our first real conversation now that you’re dressed appropriately. Melissa,” I said looking her straight in the eye. “You didn’t read a word of the contract, did you?”

  And the brunette cast her eyes down, still chewing slowly.

  “No Mr. Lancaster, I didn’t,” she said in a low voice. “I’m dyslexic so it’s literally impossible for me to read anything, I can’t even really read stop signs. The p becomes a q, letters get inverted and dance around, and I only know to stop because it’s a big red hexagon. Otherwise, I’d be clueless.”

  My eyebrows shot up.

  “How do you get around then?” I asked. “How do you survive from day to day?”

  And the girl shrugged.

  “You learn to make up for it, I guess,” she said quietly, still eating her asparagus, dipping it in the sauce now and then. “You learn to adapt. I know stop signs are red, green is go, I learned to intuit what people want, to know what they want before even they know themselves,” she said, a little wryly. “It’s like a blind man who develops a keen sense of hearing. That’s me, except I’ve learned to compensate for my dyslexia.”

  I sat back then, steepling my hands. Ah ha, so that explained why Melissa was so flexible, how she could read me and my intentions, playing me like an instrument at the pool earlier today. She had a nose for direction, an innate feel for the way the world worked, and right now, I was the man who dominated her world and she knew it, loud and clear.

  “I see,” I said slowly. “So you signed the contract without reading it all,” I continued thoughtfully.

  And Melissa gulped, raising her eyes to mine.

  “Yes,” she said quietly. “I figured Angela had already explained the important terms, so there was no need to read anything, not really. Besides, I needed a place to stay,” she said quickly. “There was nowhere for me to go, so it was either the women’s shelter or here,” she added softly.

  And I nodded again, unsurprised. A lot of times the girls who come to me are hard-up some way or other, and clearly, Melly was no different. They come here for the warm bed, the abundance of food, a roof over their heads because it was either New Jersey or nowhere, they were so down and out.

  “But you work?” I asked, expression serious. “You go to school, have a job or something?”

  The brunette nodded.

  “I work at Dunkin’ Doobie in Midtown as a server,” she admitted. “It’s not a great gig, but it pays the bills as I study art.”

  Ah ha. Actually, this wasn’t new news, this had been part of the girl’s dossier, all faxed over to Buenos Aires by the ever-thorough Angela. But regardless, it was time to lay down the law, to make sure Melly was under no illusions.

  “You won’t be working while you’re here,” I stated authoritatively. “Because that’s part of the contract,” I added. “While you’re at Valley Pine, you’re a little girl full-time and will comport yourself as such.”

  Melissa merely squinted at me, those brown eyes puzzled.

  “Little girl full-time?” she repeated slowly. “But what does that mean?”

  I shrugged.

  “It means a lot of things, most of which was laid out in the document, which you already signed,” I said pointedly. “But most of all, it means that you play by my rules. You wear the outfits in your closet, eat the food the kitchen serves, and behave yourself as appropriate. That means no swearing, so slamming doors, and no tantrums, among other things. Rudeness and disrespect will not be tolerated.”

  Melissa nodded, realization growing slowly in her eyes, chewing her bottom lip thoughtfully.

  “But Mr. Lancaster,” she said, her voice low. “Do little girls … do little girls sleep with their Daddies?” she asked hesitantly.

  I let the question han
g in the air, pregnant, begging for an answer. And I decided to be upfront, there was no sense in beating around the bush given that I’d practically taken her by the pool already this afternoon.

  “Absolutely yes,” I said authoritatively. “So long as you want it, and I want it, then yes, you can sleep in my bed,” I rumbled, eyes gleaming.

  And shit, but the girl blushed beautifully then, almost vibrating. Because if I wasn’t mistaken, she wanted it. Melly, my newest little girl, wanted some hot times with Daddy and I was more than happy to oblige. In fact, my dick was already hardening, body going stiff just being in her proximity, those huge tits pushing the fabric of her dress, the shapely legs barely hidden by the hem.

  “But first things first,” I ground out, eyes fixed on my baby girl. “Eat everything on your plate, you need food to grow and be healthy.”

  And Melly nodded obediently then.

  “Yes Daddy, please pass the cream sauce again,” she murmured again. “I’m eating my veggies like a good girl.”

  That was true, Melly had scarfed up most of her asparagus and I nodded approvingly.

  “That’s right, vegetables make good little girls grow tall and big. But this is no cream sauce honey, or it’s not the cream sauce you think it is.”

  The brunette paused mid-bite.

  “It does taste different Daddy, it’s not your usual béarnaise. Does it have sour cream in it? Maybe some vanilla? It’s different from what they have at the Dunkin’ Doobie,” she said, chewing slower, savoring the tang.

  And I almost shouted with laughter because how could a place called Dunkin’ Doobie have béarnaise? They probably passed off some shitty ranch sauce as béarnaise, throwing in some butter and re-branding it with a French name. But even more, Mandy would never believe what was in the Valley Pine béarnaise, this was a special concoction. And I grinned, leaning back, happy to share the secret.

  “Honey,” I said mildly. “This cream sauce is flavored with my cum. That slightly salty tang is my cum that you’re tasting, mixed in with butter, milk, and spices. So yeah, sweetheart, you’re drinking me at this very moment.”