Daddy Play: A Millionaire Age Play Romance

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Daddy Play: A Millionaire Age Play Romance Page 8

by Lucy Wild


  She nodded, a smile spreading across her lips.

  “It could have been anyone touching you in there, do you know that?”

  She nodded again.

  “What would you do if you found out it was me?”

  The smile broadened. “I’d thank you for the greatest night of my life.”

  “Want to go again?”

  “Huh?”

  “Do you want to go back there again?”

  “You said one night.”

  “I know what I said. Things have changed. Do you want to go back there?”

  The smile faded on her lips. “What happened in there, I couldn’t cope with that more than once. It almost killed me.”

  “Are you saying you don’t want to go there again?”

  “That’s not what I’m saying.”

  “It sounds like that’s exactly what you’re saying. What if I told you that you couldn’t perform my play without going again?”

  “That wasn’t the deal.”

  “I’m changing the deal.”

  “I…I don’t know. That, in there. That wasn’t me. That wasn’t who I am.”

  “I think it was exactly who you are. You just needed someone to let it out of you.”

  She lapsed into silence. My mind was filled with thoughts of her. I could still taste her on my tongue, the sweetness of her pussy, the look of her ass as I’d pushed a finger into it, the way she’d writhed when she came over and over again. We couldn’t just stop at one night.

  “I want you,” I said, the words heavy in the darkness. “Stay with me tonight.”

  “I want to go home,” she replied after a pause. “I’m sorry, I need to go home.”

  “Fine,” I snapped, pressing the accelerator down to the floor. I raced back to Scarton, skidding to a halt outside her house. “Go then.”

  “Don’t be angry, please,” she said, turning to look at me. “It’s just…it’s a lot to take in.”

  “Out.”

  I was fuming. I’d shown her a whole new world, a world that she’d loved. And now instead of being grateful, she’d acted as if I’d done her harm. She had sorrow and anger on her face as she got out of the car but it was nothing compared to the fury that was bubbling up inside me. How could she react like that after everything I’d done for her? I couldn’t stand it. I raced off, leaving her stood on the pavement.

  I gripped the steering wheel tightly as I drove. Did she not know what a big deal it was for me to invite her to stay? I’d never invited anyone to stay at my house before. I’d opened up my heart, damaged as it was, to her and instead of accepting me, she’d told she wanted to go home. Damn her, I thought. And damn me. I had to have her. I couldn’t leave it, not now, not after seeing her in ecstasy on the floor beneath me, not after coming inside her. She would be mine.

  I thought the opposite by the time I climbed into bed. I didn’t want her. She didn’t deserve what I had to offer. She was too innocent, too young, too naive to bring into my life. I was bad for her. She clearly regretted what she’d done. I struggled to get to sleep and I kept waking up in the night, each time thinking something different. I was going to make her mine. I wanted nothing to do with her ever again. I was losing control. I hated losing control.

  At four in the morning, I sat in the kitchen with a mug of black coffee, thinking hard. Why did she make me so angry? Because I wanted her. How would I feel if I never saw her again? Devastated. What did that mean? Say it. Say it. Say it!

  I’m falling for her. Good, now what does that mean? That I don’t turn my back on her. That I tell her how I feel.

  But feelings are bad, they make you vulnerable. They lead to pain. Pain that is too much. Pain that needs locking away and ignoring.

  Deal with it, I told myself. You can deal with anything. You’re not the weak little child you once were. You are George Atherton and what you want, you get. If you want her, you get her. You make her see who she really is and you get her and you do not give up until you have her.

  TWENTY-ONE

  DONNA

  I cried myself to sleep that night. How could I make him understand that I wanted him so much and that was why I couldn’t stay at his house? There were no words that would explain it adequately and instead I’d left it the worst possible way. I’d rejected him when I wanted him more than ever and he’d raced away from my house, looking like he never wanted to see me again.

  How could I possibly have told him the truth? That I was weak, that I was broken, that I was damaged. I’d come out of a relationship with a man who’d hurt me more so deeply, I never expected to want anyone again. Then George came along, throwing a huge spanner into my plans. I hadn’t planned to fall for someone so quickly. But the club, everything that had happened there, it had woken me up. It had also woken up a lot of old memories, memories that I’d kept locked away.

  If I’d gone to his house, if I’d stayed the night, there was no way I would have been able to keep things under control. I’d have cried. He’d have asked why. I’d have had to tell him and then he’d have seen me for the damaged little freak I was and wanted nothing more to do with me. Damaged goods, Darren had called me and he was right. That’s all I was. George was better off without someone like me. Someone who wanted sex and wanted never to have sex, who was ashamed of her desire while needing to submit. It was all too much and I sobbed on my pillow as I laid there, my body aching from everything that had been done to me in the club.

  I woke up the next morning to a knock on my door. I was on the verge of ignoring it when I realised it might be the drama group. I doubted George would give the consent now. I was going to have to tell them their plans of putting on his play were over for good. He wanted me to go back to the club with him. I couldn’t do that. It had been too good. It had shown me who I really was and that person scared me.

  We all hide who we really are. Does anyone but us ever know who we really are? Deep inside? Well, I’d revealed who I really was in the club and it made me ashamed. I was a slut, I was a submissive whore, I was all those things that girls aren’t supposed to be. I was bad, I was naughty, I was his plaything. I couldn’t do it again. If I did, that part of me might refuse to go away and then I’d be vulnerable as I was with Darren.

  He’d seen the submissive in me. He’d used that part of me to twist me to do his bidding, to manipulate me into becoming his slave more than anything. He’d beaten me for no reason other than to maintain his power over me. It had taken every ounce of my mental strength to leave him and I’d vowed never to make myself vulnerable again. I would be strong, I would be powerful, I would be in charge of my own life.

  What did it say about me that the first chance I had, I’d submitted again? It told me I was in trouble if I didn’t stop it now, before it went too far. I would fall for George and he’d use me like Darren did. I could see my future as if it had already happened.

  It was Joshua at the door again. “Are you all right?” he asked as I swung the door open. “You look awful.”

  “I’m fine,” I snapped, wiping my face. “What do you want?”

  “You’re not fine,” he said, wrapping his arms around me. “What happened?”

  “Nothing,” I muttered into his shoulder but then the tears came again and I couldn’t stop them. He just waited until I was done before guiding me into the living room, sitting next to me on the sofa, his hand on top of mine.

  “Tell me what’s wrong.”

  “Nothing, I just had a bad night, last night, that’s all.”

  “With George?”

  “What? What are you talking about?”

  “I…I saw the two of you driving off together.”

  “Well, it didn’t go very well, that’s all.”

  “Listen, Donna. Maybe we could go get a coffee and talk about it? Might make you feel better.”

  “I appreciate the offer but I’m not really in the mood to go out.”

  “Then we could stay in.” He shuffled closer to me, his hand still grippin
g mine. “It might help to talk.”

  I wriggled away from him on the sofa. “I’m fine, thanks.”

  He frowned. “What, am I not good enough because I haven’t killed anyone?”

  “What? What are you talking about?”

  “Every girl wants a bad boy. What’s wrong with me?”

  I sighed. “Nothing, nothing’s wrong with you.”

  “What is it then? Why don’t you like me?”

  “I can’t have this conversation now, Joshua. I think it’s best you go.”

  He stood up, scowling down at me. “Fine, I’ll go, sorry I tried to help.”

  I watched him leave, the front door slamming shut a moment later. It opened again before I had time to get up and I shouted. “Go away, Joshua.”

  “I’m not Joshua.”

  I looked up and there was George standing in the hallway, tapping his watch.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “You’re supposed to be cleaning. It’s gone nine.”

  “What? You expect me to come and clean after last night?”

  “Do you expect to get paid?”

  “You’re serious?”

  “My car is outside. You’re in it in five minutes. Don’t dawdle.”

  He walked off, leaving me with my mouth open. He had acted as if nothing had happened between us last night. I stood up, heading upstairs to change into my maid’s uniform. Part of me had wanted to tell him to get out of my house but I couldn’t do it. The touch of Joshua’s hand on mine had told me one important thing. I felt nothing at all for him. When George had touched me, my entire soul soared upwards. That was why I got changed, that was why I travelled to his house and that was why I saw the plans for the town development in his study when I was tidying in there while he chopped wood outside.

  TWENTY-TWO

  DONNA

  He didn’t say a word on the drive up to his house. I felt more than ever like his little girl, as if I’d angered my Daddy and he was too cross to talk to me. When we arrived he climbed out of the car and unlocked the house, tapping his foot impatiently as I scurried after him. “You can clean the study today,” he said. “I’ll make the coffee.”

  His study was a nightmare. There were papers everywhere and I had no idea which were important and which I could throw away. Life became easier when I realised his filing cabinet was completely empty. I was able to slowly organise things into files and it was whilst doing that endless task that I came across the plans for the town centre. It looked as if someone was hoping to demolish half the high street including the theatre. Was it his company? Was that where his money really came from? Secret property developer?

  I kept quiet about the papers, keeping it to myself for now seemed the best thing to do. When he appeared with two cups of coffee, I stopped, waiting for him to comment on my progress. He only nodded and then left me to it.

  I was in there most of the day, only taking a break to visit the bathroom. While I was in there, I again flicked through the BDSM magazine of his, trying to connect the images in there to what had happened to me. Was I like the models in the pictures? Was that who I really was? Nothing more than eye candy for men like him?

  I could hardly complain about my current predicament. I’d agreed to clean for him. I’d agreed to go to the club, he hadn’t forced me to do anything. The images brought more feelings forward, the way his hand had felt on my rear, how good it had felt to be disciplined by my Daddy. My pussy began to tingle at the thought so I crammed the magazine back in its hiding place, returning to the study and doing my best to ignore the images of his cock in my mouth, the way he’d felt when he came in me, the thickness of his finger in my ass.

  He reappeared an hour later, nodding once more. “It looks much better,” he said. “Be back same time tomorrow.”

  “How are you so calm?” I asked.

  “Excuse me?”

  “One minute you’re asking me to stay the night, the next you’re acting as if nothing happened.”

  He sighed, leaning back against the wall behind him. “You want to know the truth?”

  I nodded. “Of course I do.”

  “Will you promise to tell the truth if I do?”

  I nodded again, more reluctantly this time.

  “Come through to the living room.”

  He sat on the sofa and I sat at the far end, looking at him as he stared back at me. “I didn’t expect to have feelings for you,” he said after a lengthy silence. “I planned to humiliate you and then discard you. That’s what I do. I’m a fucked up person.” A pause hung in the air. I said nothing, waiting for him to continue. “I couldn’t do it. I want you, my little princess and you’ve no idea how hard it is for me to admit that. I want to be your Daddy and for you to submit to me. Now your turn.”

  “What do you mean, my turn?”

  “Why did you say no to staying the night?”

  “I wanted to go home.”

  “Bullshit. I could see in your eyes there was more to it. What is it?”

  I opened my mouth, ready to say some platitude or other but then the truth just came out. “I was in an abusive relationship for a long time and I was scared.”

  “Scared of what? Of me?”

  “Scared you were the same person.”

  “As who?”

  “As my ex. I thought if I stayed, you’d see how damaged I was and you’d either want nothing to do with me, or worse, you’d treat me like he did.”

  He shuffled closer, reaching his hand out towards mine. I let him take it, marvelling at how different it felt to when Joshua had touched me, or Darren for that matter. No revulsion, no coldness. Just warmth.

  “You will be punished when you are bad, never for any other reason. If you agree to submit to me, you will sign a contract, as will I. Either of us breach it and that’s it, all over. There are few rules but you must agree to them all.”

  “What rules?”

  “Rule one, no lying.”

  “I can do that.”

  “The rest are in the contract. Do you want to see it?”

  I nodded and he left, returning a minute later with a sheet of paper. I read through it, marvelling at the wording. “I’m to call you Daddy at all times in private, and in public if you demand it. I’m to only wear underwear if you allow it. I’m to shave daily, to sleep naked. It goes on and on.”

  “You don’t have to sign.”

  I snatched the pen from him. “It sounds perfect.”

  “Really? You don’t have any worries?”

  “Hundreds of them but what the hell, right?” I knew it was me saying the words but it didn’t sound like me. It didn’t feel like me.

  “I have another form.”

  “Do I have to sign something else?”

  “No, I do.”

  “What is it?”

  He produced another sheet of paper. “May I borrow the pen?”

  After I passed it to him, he signed at the bottom of the paper before passing it to me. I looked down at it. “A consent form?”

  “For About Last Night. You can put on the play whenever you’re ready.”

  “You’re serious?”

  He waved the contract. “You sign. I sign. Now, as I am in charge of you. Get cleaning in here. If I find a speck of dirt, there’ll be trouble.”

  “There’s dirt right there,” I said, pointing at the corner of the room.

  “Then you better bend over, hadn’t you?”

  TWENTY-THREE

  GEORGE

  When she bent over the sofa, it was like being back in the club. The instant her dress rode up, I yanked down her knickers, leaving them around her thighs as I raised my hand and slammed it down on her ass. She let out a cry as the skin turned red and her cries increased as I spanked her half a dozen times, each blow in exactly the same place. I moved across to her other buttock, swiping sideways onto it, watching her wriggle and squirm in place as her ass warmed up.

  I didn’t let her stand up when I was done spanki
ng her. She had signed the contract. She was my little princess now and she had to do whatever I wanted when I wanted it. What I wanted was to fuck her. I moved my hand down her ass, finding her pussy, dipping into it, drawing out the wetness and sliding it over her clit while she began to moan, her knees shuffling apart, the panties stopping her from moving as wide as she wanted.

  I played with her clit for as long as I could bear, staring down at her ass, my cock already throbbing to be in her. “Stay there,” I said, walking out of the room and leaving her in place. I wanted to see something in her ass, see if she would stick to her word and obey me without question.

  I retrieved a buttplug from a drawer in my study, coating it in lube whilst walking back through to her. She was still bent over, her ass bright red and making me want her all the more. I slid the plug between her cheeks, watching her shuffle her hips from side to side, trying to fight what was happening. I ignored her, moving forward steadily until I found her hole, watching as she stretched to allow the plug into her. All of a sudden she widened enough and then it was in her, the base sticking obscenely out as I began to spank her again, her cries all the more strained as each blow sent the plug thrusting against her.

  I gave her a dozen more spanks before undoing my trousers, staring at her intensely as I took my cock in my hand and began to stroke it. “Turn round,” I said. “Get on your knees.”

  She did as I asked, her eyes widening at the sight of my cock as I looked down at her. “Open your mouth, stick out your tongue. Now, don’t move a muscle. I’m going to fuck your face.”

  I grabbed her hair, holding her still as I thrust right to the back of her throat. She gagged on my length, a beautiful sight as saliva ran down her chin, her nostrils flaring, her eyes wild. I pulled back after a few seconds, sliding in again before she could recover. I began to rock back and forth in her mouth, gliding over her tongue, using her lips to bring me pleasure until I couldn’t wait any longer, I was too close to coming.

  “Bend over.”

  She got up, back into position ready for spanking again. But instead of laying a hand on her, I pushed my cock between her legs, finding her pussy wet and ready for me. I thrust straight into it, still not putting my hands on her. While buried inside her, I looked down, seeing the glorious sight of my shaft vanishing up into her pussy. I pulled back and it came free, coated in her wetness.

 

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