Mustang Daddy - A Single Daddy, Small Town Second Chance Romance

by Sienna Parks

  That’s what gets me off.

  I love the power, the ultimate control; watching a woman give herself over to me completely. It’s an honor and a privilege to have a woman put absolute faith in you like that, and I don’t take it lightly. I cherish it, and nurture it where I can, in the only way I know how.

  I got my first taste for it seven years ago when a one-night stand asked me to tie her up and spank her. I was up for anything and readily agreed, but I wasn’t prepared for the rush that coursed through my body when my hand made contact with her tight little ass. It was unlike anything I had ever experienced, and when I came, fuck me, it was so damn intense. I couldn’t get enough. I took her on every surface of her apartment, in every position I could, binding her hands and feet, holding her down, totally at my mercy. The sight of her, bound with black ropes against alabaster skin, her reddened ass in the air, awaiting my attention. I had never seen a woman so completely satisfied. It was so beautiful to me, and I never looked back after that.

  I did some research into places I could go to learn more about the lifestyle, and to learn how to correctly execute the scenes that I wanted to create. I found the best club in New York, Andromeda, and it opened up a whole new world for me; a side of myself that I didn’t know was there. It let me focus the darkest parts of myself, and use it to straddle the fine line between pleasure and pain. It was only after the first year that I realized just how unfulfilling my encounters had been up until then.

  Unfortunately for me, as I honed my skills, reveling in the pleasure I could wring from a woman’s body, I also became painfully aware of every intriguing facet of Vittoria de Rossi. Whenever I was in her presence, I became more and more drawn to the way her body moved, knowing how pliant she would be under my touch. I was acutely attuned to her personality, her moods, what I could see that she needed. Everything about her body language screamed submissive, but there was, and is, something inside of her that will never submit to any man. I could never crush that spirit. It is a beautiful sight to behold, but it’s a double-edged sword. It’s a trait in her that I admire and adore, but it also means that we would never work; that I could never be the man she needs me to be. Once I realized that, I started avoiding her wherever possible. Making excuses not to attend family events with Carter, and as my business took off, the excuses became legitimate reasons, and by the time Vittoria graduated Julliard and started touring the world, there was no longer any occasion for us to be in the same vicinity.

  It got easier after that, but a twisted part of me could never truly let her go. Whenever she performs in New York, I can’t help myself. I always go. I always sit in the dark and lose myself in her, if only for a few stolen hours. She is an exquisite dancer; every movement so precise and seemingly effortless. She was born to dance; it’s who she is, and I’m in awe of how consumed she becomes by the music when she’s on stage. It’s transcendent.

  The last time I saw her perform was about five months ago, when Addi and Carter spied me outside the theatre and dragged me to dinner with them and Vittoria. I could barely breathe around her. The gentle scent of her perfume, tantalizing my senses; the brush of her leg against mine under the table, causing my chest to tighten and my cock to harden in my pants. It was a sweet agony that I would gladly endure day after day after day if I thought I could win her heart, her body, and her soul. If I could possess her in every way possible.

  Just the memory of her makes me hard.

  I need to call Liam later and get him to arrange a meeting with a few prospective submissives tomorrow night. It’ll be a welcome distraction from my upcoming trip to Verona. But for now, I’ll have to make do with grabbing a shower and heading into the office to work on the contracts for my latest signing.

  Liam has three potential subs for me to train. I’m going to the club to meet with each of them tonight, to see if we connect. I don’t train just anyone. I’m very selective. It’s one of the great perks of being a Master. I have my choice of willing new submissives, eager for me to teach them how to please their future Dominant, to help them discover what they like and what is a hard limit for them.

  I never have sex with a submissive before I’ve gone through the process of sitting down with them and discussing every aspect of what they expect from me, what training they require, and to gauge what I feel they could benefit from in terms of my expertise. I need to know that I can relate to a woman on an intellectual level. The physical side of it isn’t a worry for me. As long as I find her attractive, the rest will follow. It’s a myth that some people just aren’t compatible. If you are physically attracted to another person, then your “compatibility” comes down to a willingness to learn how to please each other.

  The club is busy tonight; demonstrations in the main room, all private rooms occupied, and the bars and the dance floor are packed with writhing bodies. Even the VIP lounges are too busy for me to conduct my interviews, so I decide to take a different approach, and meet each of the girls in my playroom. It definitely gives me an added edge, as if I needed one, inviting them into my domain.

  The first girl has the intelligence and maturity level of a five-year-old. I can’t tolerate her high-pitched giggling and hair twirling for more than three minutes before I have the bouncer outside of my room escort her off the premises.

  Girl number two is hot – long legs, a perfect ass, and gorgeous long blonde hair that I could wrap around my arm as I hold her down and fuck her. Unfortunately, her looks are her only redeeming quality. In the thirty minutes that she spends in my playroom, she tries to undress for me at least three times, offers to give me head twice, and repeatedly tells me how much she likes anal. She has zero class, and I don’t think she fully understands the lifestyle she’s trying to get into.

  If I wanted her naked, she’d be spread on my table already. If I wanted her to give me head, she would be on her knees with her mouth full. And, if I wanted to take her up the ass, she would be up on all fours, screaming my name as I ride her. I breathe a sigh of relief when she leaves and put some music on my iPod through the speakers in the room, to alleviate my agitation before the last woman of the evening arrives.

  When I hear the knock on the door, I can barely muster the enthusiasm to open it, but the girl standing behind it, is breathtaking. I open the door wide and invite her in. Everything about her is delicious. She has the physique of a dancer, toned, slender and petite. She has stunning caramel skin and lush black hair that falls down her back in a sea of waves.

  My heart slams into my chest at the sight of her.

  She looks like… Vittoria.

  My dick twitches in my pants, and I find myself drawn to this girl without even hearing her speak.

  “It’s nice to meet you. My name is Master Fitzgerald, but I’m sure you already know that.”

  She takes my proffered hand giving it a firm shake. The sweet smell of her perfume beginning to fill the room.

  “The pleasure is all mine, Master Fitzgerald. My name is…” I cut her off.

  “No need for names tonight, angel.” I place my hand at the small of her back and lead her over to the couch. “Please, sit.”

  We discuss her likes and dislikes, her expectations and why she wants to be trained by me. She knows how to flatter a guy. “You are without a doubt, the best, and the hottest Master in New York. Every submissive that knows the lifestyle, knows that you are the expert in shibari, which is something that I have wanted to try for a long time now.”

  “It’s obvious to me that you aren’t new to the scene, or to being a submissive, so my question is – why do you feel the need to go back into training?”

  Her gaze drops to the floor, her discomfort apparent in the shifting of her feet.

  “I need full disclosure. I can’t be your Master if you don’t trust me. I realize that you don’t know me yet, but unfortunately, in my position as a trainer rather than a long-term Dominant, I need my submissives to open up to me immediately. I know it’s a huge leap of faith at this stage,
but I won’t be able to make an informed decision as to whether or not I can help you. I need you to understand that you have the power here. It is your choice entirely. You don’t have to tell me anything, and you can leave at any time with no hard feelings.”

  Her demeanor softens at my last words, and I can see the moment she decides to confide in me.

  “I had a bad experience with my previous Dominant. He made the decision for me, that I no longer needed a safe word. He…” I can see this is difficult for her. “He took too much pleasure in punishing me… a long way past my hard limits.”

  I feel so angry for this girl. Men like that give BDSM a bad name. A Dominant’s sole purpose is to ensure that his submissive is happy and healthy, satisfied and never pushed beyond what she can handle. She should have absolute control when it comes to her hard limits. Any man that doesn’t respect and honor the strength that it takes for a woman to submit herself completely, is not a true Dom.

  As a rule, I don’t train subs that look anything like Vittoria. I’ve always felt that it would be disrespectful to the woman in question, and would feel like I was betraying Vittoria somehow. A pale imitation would never satisfy me.

  I really want to help this girl get past what happened with her previous Dom, and restore her faith in our lifestyle, but she looks so much like Vittoria, it’s almost eerie.

  “I’m so sorry that you had to live through that. I can assure you, that a true Dominant would never treat you that way.” Her small smile is so endearing. I wonder if I could get past the physical similarity and train her.

  “I know, Master Fitzgerald. That’s why I’m here. I don’t want to let him win. I believe I can still find happiness with a Dom that treats me properly. I just think that I need the safety of some training to restore my confidence before I try to find a suitable long-term match.”

  “You’re a very sensible woman. I think you’re doing the right thing, and I would love to help you.”

  I see the spark in her eyes at my words, and I feel my cock hardening as I drink in the sight of her.

  “I would like to know a little more about you before we take this any further.”

  “Anything.”

  “What do you do for a living?”

  “I’m a ballerina. I’m in my final year at Julliard and I’m hoping to find a ballet company to tour with after I graduate. It’s been my dream since I was five years old.”

  My stomach drops. I know I can’t do this. I was kidding myself to think that I could. The similarities are just too much for me to get over. I scrub my hands up over my face, annoyed at myself for being so pathetic.

  “Is something wrong, Master Fitzgerald? Have I said something to upset you?”

  I stare up into her questioning eyes as I answer. Hoping that she understands that this is in no way a reflection on her.

  “I’m so sorry. I can’t train you. I would love to. You are extremely beautiful and any man in his right mind would want to explore every last inch of your gorgeous body.”

  “But…?”

  “But, you remind me too much of someone I know.”

  “Someone you loved?”

  “Something like that. Trust me when I tell you that this is all my issue. You are a lovely girl, and I know that when you find the right Dom, he will worship the ground you walk on.” I watch as her cheeks begin to blush. “I would still like to help, and if it’s ok with you, I would like to speak with some of the other Masters, discuss your situation, and choose a trainer for you that I feel would be a good match. You deserve someone that can give you the training, and attention you need to regain your confidence in yourself, and in our lifestyle. Will you let me do that for you?”

  “It’s true what they say about you, Master Fitzgerald. You really are a gentleman. Stunningly handsome, with a beautiful soul. I would be honored if you would choose a Master to train me. I won’t lie and say that I’m not disappointed. You really are even more gorgeous in the flesh. I would have relished the opportunity to submit to you.”

  “Thank you for the compliment. I don’t take any woman’s willingness to submit to me, lightly. I’m humbled. I will make the necessary arrangements, and be in touch when I’ve found someone for you to come and meet with.”

  As she stands to leave, I offer her my hand, which she grasps with both of hers, holding my gaze. “Whoever it is that I remind you of, she’s a very lucky woman. I hope she appreciates that someday.”

  “Thank you.”

  She lets go of my hand and strides out of the room, turning to give me one last smile before she leaves.

  How did I get here?

  Three women who could have been a great distraction for me. Three women who offered themselves willingly to me, and I sent all of them away. Increasingly, I’m noticing that it’s becoming more and more difficult for me to switch off and repress the feelings I have for Vittoria.

  She’s not a part of my everyday life, and yet she is.

  Ever since the last time I saw her, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her. The way her body moves on stage, her smile when I make her laugh, and so many little things, too numerous to count.

  I don’t know how to get past this. The one-night stand didn’t help in the slightest. Work is a fantastic distraction, but only while I’m working. Training submissives has been my way of coping for years now, and it has served me very well up until recently, but lately, it just doesn’t hold the same satisfaction, and if I needed any more proof, then tonight has confirmed it.

  I need to find a way to get Vittoria de Rossi out of my system for good. I know that I have to cut ties with her altogether, but first, I need to get through this wedding. It’s not going to be easy knowing that she’s sleeping in a hotel room down the hall from me, and I can’t do a damn thing about it. It’s going to be fucking torture.

  I leave Andromeda feeling worse than when I arrived. I don’t think this has ever happened to me before, so from now until the wedding, I’m going to throw myself into work, teach some Master classes, and do some shibari demonstrations.

  It’s a sad realization for me, that there are two things I am passionate about in my life, both of which I have had to sacrifice and make do with an alternative. My dream was to be a musician, to sing, play guitar and write songs. My own stupidity and anger made sure that, that will never happen, and so I became an agent. I started my own label, and I make that dream come true for other people. I love what I do, but there will always be a part of me that wants more.

  I found BDSM and it let me channel all of my conflicting feelings, and become a Master of my craft. I will never regret that, but I will also never be able to share it with the one person that truly means something to me. In that respect, I will never achieve complete satisfaction as a Master. Again though, I love what I do, but a part of me will always want more.

  My life will always be a series of second choices.

  Bands, bondage, music and Master classes.

  I hate weddings. Single women are always desperate to hook up and tie you down, and not in a good way. I know the ladies love me. I’m not an ugly guy, I work out, take care of myself, and I dress well. Women are drawn to my dominant nature without realizing it, and even when I try to disguise it, it’s still there. It speaks to them on a molecular level – a deep unspoken desire to submit to a strong confident man.

  I will have no end of willing victims this weekend; easy girls that just want me to make them feel better about the fact that they’re single. And that’s the problem; it’s too easy. I like my women compliant, but I don’t want them to just give it up for nothing. I relish the seduction. I thrive on it. The thrill of anticipation. Making a woman so hot for me that she would do anything for my touch, my kiss, and my lips against her quivering naked flesh. I want a woman to give herself over to me completely, to do with as I please.

  It’s Xander’s wedding this weekend and we’re in Verona, Italy. The past three days have been a killer and I really need to just get the hell out
of dodge already. It’s been great spending time with everyone, but it gets tiring having to put on a front for them all the time. No one knows about my… lifestyle, and it can be difficult to rein in that side of myself at times, especially around Vittoria, but people wouldn’t understand. They wouldn’t accept it.

  I met Vittoria about eight years ago when Carter invited me to spend Thanksgiving at his parent’s house, and from the moment I first laid eyes on her, I’ve wanted her. I want to fuck her, to own her, to dominate her; I want her complete and total submission to my deepest, darkest desires, and I’m also completely in love with her. That’s why I can’t be with her. She is so good and pure and innocent, and what I want from her… well, I’m aware that a girl like her does not need what I have to offer. She deserves better, she deserves the best of everything, and if I thought for a second that I could give it to her, I would have made her mine a long time ago.

  I’m not into corrupting shy inexperienced girls. I need a woman who knows her own mind, and wants to submit to my command. Vittoria could never be that woman, she’s too… perfect.

  I don’t think Carter knows how I feel about her. I’m certain if he did, I’d be buried in the woods somewhere by now. I’ve done my best to avoid her over the past few days, but it’s getting increasingly more difficult. I’m drawn to her like a moth to a flame. We hadn’t seen each other in months before she arrived in Verona. She’s been out of the country touring with a top ballet company so it made it easy to avoid her.

  Vittoria de Rossi is an angel, sent from heaven to torment what’s left of my soul. She is perfection personified; a single, exquisite rose among a bed of thorns; a beacon of light in the darkness; the only woman I have ever loved, and the only woman I can never have. She is also my best friend’s younger sister, and the reason I feel like a meteor has rocketed straight into my chest, obliterating my heart into a million fragments, scattering them across the solar system.

  I’ve been standing watching her float across the dance floor with her father, her brother, and even Xander at the reception tonight. She is awe-inspiring to watch. She lives and breathes the music, letting it flow through her, bending to its will. I don’t think I could ever tire of watching her. She looks so carefree and happy, and unbelievably beautiful; she’s enchanting.