u/DivinationandMurk

I love that Daddy always has little surprises for me, but this one especially caught me off guard.

It wasn’t unusual for him to have me on my back, with my wrists cuffed together to the headboard above my head while he played with me.

But tonight he brought out two more cuffs and put them on my ankles. At first I thought maybe he would strap my legs down to the the bottom of the bed somehow, but then he reached below the bed and brought out a long, gray bar with little hoops on the end…

…and then I knew.

He had a spreader bar!

“Oh, Daddy,” I said, nervous and excited.

“That’s right Babygirl, Daddy has something special for you tonight.”

“Thank you Daddy.”

He connected the left cuff to one end of the bar, and then spread my legs and connected the other end.

But the biggest surprise was yet to come.

Once it was attached to both ankles, Daddy lifted the bar, and thus my legs, in the air. He attached each end of the bar to a chain on the top corners of the headboard, leaving my legs spread and suspended in the air, in line with my shoulders. I was glad for all the yoga I’ve done to give me good hip flexibility!

But mostly I was thinking about my pussy, so totally exposed, with no way to close my legs.

“There we go Babygirl,” said Daddy, looking me over. “That’s much better.”

“Daddy…” I couldn’t find any other words right now.

Daddy looked down between my legs. Having his eyes so fixed on it made it throb harder.

“What an exquisite little pussy, front and center for me,” he said. “Who does this pussy belong to?”

“You Daddy. It’s all yours.”
“That’s right Kitten.”

As he continued to just stare at it he gently ran his hands over my inner thigh, up to my knee and back down, stopping within inches of my crotch, and back up again.

“This is a wonderful pose to help train you. I know you said this pussy belongs to me, and I’m sure your little fuckdoll brain understands this. But I need your body to know this too. I need your pussy to know, deeply and thoroughly, that it is owned.”

His slow and deliberate hand was moving ever closer to my crotch, then away again, making it ache with need.

“The best way to achieve that knowledge of ownership is to control its pleasure. Thus the restraints,” said Daddy, “I’m going to make that pussy feel soooo good…”

My legs started to tremble.

“…but, completely on my own terms.”

Daddy lowered his handsome face down and gave…one tiny kiss on my swollen clit. My legs trembled so much it made the chains between the headboard and the bar rattle.

Daddy looked up and smiled with delight. “Good,” he said, “I love the sound of that. Who’s pussy is this?”

“Yours Daddy,” I moaned.

“That’s right. Daddy’s sweet little pussy.”

And he went down again and gave a slightly longer kiss on my vulva, just below my clit, and then another little kiss on my clit. Then he slowly ran his tongue along my right inner thigh, and back down again. He kissed my clit again. The chains rattled again.

Then he stopped. He sat up, and just stared right into my eyes.

“Daddy, please…” I whispered.

“You can beg all you want Babygirl. Who’s in control here?”

“You Daddy.”

“That’s right. Daddy decides when and how you receive pleasure. If at all.”

I whimpered. I slowly gyrated my pelvis, to the extent that I could.

“You must feel so exposed right now, so vulnerable.”

“Yes Daddy.”

“Good,” he said, leaning forward to give little kisses on my thighs, “That’s what I want.”

I sighed.

“Who’s Daddy’s girl?”

“I’m Daddy’s girl,” I said with delight.

“That’s right. Do you feel especially owned right now?”

“Yes Daddy.”

“Wonderful,” and he bend down to give me a longer kiss on my clit, with a little tongue and a slight suction.

The chains rattled again from my trembling. My entire pelvis region was pulsating.

Daddy got down flat on his stomach. Suddenly his face was inches away from my dripping pussy. He inhaled deeply through his nose.

“My god,” he said, “You smell soooo good.”

Despite what he literally just said, I suddenly felt a tinge of insecurity.

“It’s…ok Daddy?” I said sheepishly.

“What did I just say Kitten?”

“That I smell good.”

“That’s right. Don’t question me.”

“Yes Daddy. Sorry Daddy.”

He took another big whiff, and moaned from deep in his belly.

He gave my clit one long lick, then sucked for a moment.

More chain rattles.

“Mmmm, you taste so good too.”

“Thank you Daddy.”

I closed my eyes and felt myself surrender more completely.

Then Daddy gave a longggg lick from the bottom of my vulva, and stopping at my clit to suck it. He moaned louder as he did it.

Then he did it again.

And again.

“Fuck Daddy,” I whimpered.

“That’s right Princess. Let Daddy spoil you. You deserve it, for being such a good girl.”

“Thank you Daddy.”

He gave me more long licks with a flat tongue up and down, at moments going all the way down to my asshole and back up again. Up one side, down the other and back up again. Sometimes he’d stop at my clit and give a long kiss, or he’d bypass it all together. With every lick upward I would hope and pray for my clit to get more attention.

I started to struggle against my restraints. My trembling intensified. I needed to come. I felt the mixture of pussy juice and Daddy’s spit dripping down my ass cheeks and soaking the bed. My clit practically screamed for more.

Finally Daddy stopped at my clit and licked it more. A few long licks, then short licks, then he’d suck it for a moment.

We both moaned.

From the sounds it was hard to tell who was enjoying this more. I always appreciated that Daddy was a man who wasn’t afraid to make a lot of noise in bed, and this moment was no exception.

His tongue got faster, and I could feel an orgasm starting to well, like hot lava just below the surface.

My legs cramped up trying to squeeze together, I swear I could almost bend that fucking bar! Explosive power welled up inside me, my breath got shorter and faster.

Daddy licked harder and faster.

“Fuck…Daddy…fuck…fuuuuuuuck….I’m….AAAAAHoooohuung!

I came harder than I’ve ever come in my life. For a moment, it felt as though I no longer existed. I had merged with the cosmos and slipped beyond this mundane plane of existence.

After a few minutes, or an hour, or 100 years, (Who can say?!) I became aware of my surroundings again. I looked down at Daddy smiling up at me, his mustache glazed and chin dripping. He beamed; I’d never seen him look so happy.

“I love you Kitten,” he said.

“I love you Daddy.”

He crawled up and gave me a long, sweet kiss on the mouth. I could taste myself.

Then Daddy crawled down and planted one soft kiss on my clit. I wanted to leap away but couldn’t. I was so sensitive.

He gave me more kisses on my thighs as I came back to planet earth. Then another kiss on my clit. This felt…slightly better. Then another.

I felt myself starting to feel actual desire again. But now I wanted him inside me.

“Daddy,” I said. “I need your cock. Fuck me. Please. Fuck me now.”

Daddy smiled, “Not yet Babygirl. We have so much more to do.”

“Pleeeeeease Daddy.”

“Who does that pussy belong to?”

“You Daddy.”

“That’s right,” he said. “Don’t you worry Kitten. By the end of the night I will have railed every last fucking thought out of that little head of yours. But I have so much more to do.”

He reached into the side drawer and pulled out some toys: A g spot vibrator, a magic wand, and a clitoral vibrator.

He looked at me with a devilish grin and said, “I’m not done with that pussy by a long shot.”

I laid my head back and looked at the ceiling. I knew not to even bother to count how many orgasms I was about to have.

Daddy said he was a Pleasure Dom. Now I really understood what that meant.

 

 

I love that Daddy always has little surprises for me, but this one especially caught me off guard.

It wasn’t unusual for him to have me on my back, with my wrists cuffed together to the headboard above my head while he played with me.

But tonight he brought out two more cuffs and put them on my ankles. At first I thought maybe he would strap my legs down to the the bottom of the bed somehow, but then he reached below the bed and brought out a long, gray bar with little hoops on the end…

…and then I knew.

He had a spreader bar!

“Oh, Daddy,” I said, nervous and excited.

“That’s right Babygirl, Daddy has something special for you tonight.”

“Thank you Daddy.”

He connected the left cuff to one end of the bar, and then spread my legs and connected the other end.

But the biggest surprise was yet to come.

Once it was attached to both ankles, Daddy lifted the bar, and thus my legs, in the air. He attached each end of the bar to a chain on the top corners of the headboard, leaving my legs spread and suspended in the air, in line with my shoulders. I was glad for all the yoga I’ve done to give me good hip flexibility!

But mostly I was thinking about my pussy, so totally exposed, with no way to close my legs.

“There we go Babygirl,” said Daddy, looking me over. “That’s much better.”

“Daddy…” I couldn’t find any other words right now.

Daddy looked down between my legs. Having his eyes so fixed on it made it throb harder.

“What an exquisite little pussy, front and center for me,” he said. “Who does this pussy belong to?”

“You Daddy. It’s all yours.”
“That’s right Kitten.”

As he continued to just stare at it he gently ran his hands over my inner thigh, up to my knee and back down, stopping within inches of my crotch, and back up again.

“This is a wonderful pose to help train you. I know you said this pussy belongs to me, and I’m sure your little fuckdoll brain understands this. But I need your body to know this too. I need your pussy to know, deeply and thoroughly, that it is owned.”

His slow and deliberate hand was moving ever closer to my crotch, then away again, making it ache with need.

“The best way to achieve that knowledge of ownership is to control its pleasure. Thus the restraints,” said Daddy, “I’m going to make that pussy feel soooo good…”

My legs started to tremble.

“…but, completely on my own terms.”

Daddy lowered his handsome face down and gave…one tiny kiss on my swollen clit. My legs trembled so much it made the chains between the headboard and the bar rattle.

Daddy looked up and smiled with delight. “Good,” he said, “I love the sound of that. Who’s pussy is this?”

“Yours Daddy,” I moaned.

“That’s right. Daddy’s sweet little pussy.”

And he went down again and gave a slightly longer kiss on my vulva, just below my clit, and then another little kiss on my clit. Then he slowly ran his tongue along my right inner thigh, and back down again. He kissed my clit again. The chains rattled again.

Then he stopped. He sat up, and just stared right into my eyes.

“Daddy, please…” I whispered.

“You can beg all you want Babygirl. Who’s in control here?”

“You Daddy.”

“That’s right. Daddy decides when and how you receive pleasure. If at all.”

I whimpered. I slowly gyrated my pelvis, to the extent that I could.

“You must feel so exposed right now, so vulnerable.”

“Yes Daddy.”

“Good,” he said, leaning forward to give little kisses on my thighs, “That’s what I want.”

I sighed.

“Who’s Daddy’s girl?”

“I’m Daddy’s girl,” I said with delight.

“That’s right. Do you feel especially owned right now?”

“Yes Daddy.”

“Wonderful,” and he bend down to give me a longer kiss on my clit, with a little tongue and a slight suction.

The chains rattled again from my trembling. My entire pelvis region was pulsating.

Daddy got down flat on his stomach. Suddenly his face was inches away from my dripping pussy. He inhaled deeply through his nose.

“My god,” he said, “You smell soooo good.”

Despite what he literally just said, I suddenly felt a tinge of insecurity.

“It’s…ok Daddy?” I said sheepishly.

“What did I just say Kitten?”

“That I smell good.”

“That’s right. Don’t question me.”

“Yes Daddy. Sorry Daddy.”

He took another big whiff, and moaned from deep in his belly.

He gave my clit one long lick, then sucked for a moment.

More chain rattles.

“Mmmm, you taste so good too.”

“Thank you Daddy.”

I closed my eyes and felt myself surrender more completely.

Then Daddy gave a longggg lick from the bottom of my vulva, and stopping at my clit to suck it. He moaned louder as he did it.

Then he did it again.

And again.

“Fuck Daddy,” I whimpered.

“That’s right Princess. Let Daddy spoil you. You deserve it, for being such a good girl.”

“Thank you Daddy.”

He gave me more long licks with a flat tongue up and down, at moments going all the way down to my asshole and back up again. Up one side, down the other and back up again. Sometimes he’d stop at my clit and give a long kiss, or he’d bypass it all together. With every lick upward I would hope and pray for my clit to get more attention.

I started to struggle against my restraints. My trembling intensified. I needed to come. I felt the mixture of pussy juice and Daddy’s spit dripping down my ass cheeks and soaking the bed. My clit practically screamed for more.

Finally Daddy stopped at my clit and licked it more. A few long licks, then short licks, then he’d suck it for a moment.

We both moaned.

From the sounds it was hard to tell who was enjoying this more. I always appreciated that Daddy was a man who wasn’t afraid to make a lot of noise in bed, and this moment was no exception.

His tongue got faster, and I could feel an orgasm starting to well, like hot lava just below the surface.

My legs cramped up trying to squeeze together, I swear I could almost bend that fucking bar! Explosive power welled up inside me, my breath got shorter and faster.

Daddy licked harder and faster.

“Fuck…Daddy…fuck…fuuuuuuuck….I’m….AAAAAHoooohuung!

I came harder than I’ve ever come in my life. For a moment, it felt as though I no longer existed. I had merged with the cosmos and slipped beyond this mundane plane of existence.

After a few minutes, or an hour, or 100 years, (Who can say?!) I became aware of my surroundings again. I looked down at Daddy smiling up at me, his mustache glazed and chin dripping. He beamed; I’d never seen him look so happy.

“I love you Kitten,” he said.

“I love you Daddy.”

He crawled up and gave me a long, sweet kiss on the mouth. I could taste myself.

Then Daddy crawled down and planted one soft kiss on my clit. I wanted to leap away but couldn’t. I was so sensitive.

He gave me more kisses on my thighs as I came back to planet earth. Then another kiss on my clit. This felt…slightly better. Then another.

I felt myself starting to feel actual desire again. But now I wanted him inside me.

“Daddy,” I said. “I need your cock. Fuck me. Please. Fuck me now.”

Daddy smiled, “Not yet Babygirl. We have so much more to do.”

“Pleeeeeease Daddy.”

“Who does that pussy belong to?”

“You Daddy.”

“That’s right,” he said. “Don’t you worry Kitten. By the end of the night I will have railed every last fucking thought out of that little head of yours. But I have so much more to do.”

He reached into the side drawer and pulled out some toys: A g spot vibrator, a magic wand, and a clitoral vibrator.

He looked at me with a devilish grin and said, “I’m not done with that pussy by a long shot.”

I laid my head back and looked at the ceiling. I knew not to even bother to count how many orgasms I was about to have.

Daddy said he was a Pleasure Dom. Now I really understood what that meant.

I love that Daddy always has little surprises for me, but this one especially caught me off guard.

It wasn’t unusual for him to have me on my back, with my wrists cuffed together to the headboard above my head while he played with me.

But tonight he brought out two more cuffs and put them on my ankles. At first I thought maybe he would strap my legs down to the the bottom of the bed somehow, but then he reached below the bed and brought out a long, gray bar with little hoops on the end…

…and then I knew.

He had a spreader bar!

“Oh, Daddy,” I said, nervous and excited.

“That’s right Babygirl, Daddy has something special for you tonight.”

“Thank you Daddy.”

He connected the left cuff to one end of the bar, and then spread my legs and connected the other end.

But the biggest surprise was yet to come.

Once it was attached to both ankles, Daddy lifted the bar, and thus my legs, in the air. He attached each end of the bar to a chain on the top corners of the headboard, leaving my legs spread and suspended in the air, in line with my shoulders. I was glad for all the yoga I’ve done to give me good hip flexibility!

But mostly I was thinking about my pussy, so totally exposed, with no way to close my legs.

“There we go Babygirl,” said Daddy, looking me over. “That’s much better.”

“Daddy…” I couldn’t find any other words right now.

Daddy looked down between my legs. Having his eyes so fixed on it made it throb harder.

“What an exquisite little pussy, front and center for me,” he said. “Who does this pussy belong to?”

“You Daddy. It’s all yours.”
“That’s right Kitten.”

As he continued to just stare at it he gently ran his hands over my inner thigh, up to my knee and back down, stopping within inches of my crotch, and back up again.

“This is a wonderful pose to help train you. I know you said this pussy belongs to me, and I’m sure your little fuckdoll brain understands this. But I need your body to know this too. I need your pussy to know, deeply and thoroughly, that it is owned.”

His slow and deliberate hand was moving ever closer to my crotch, then away again, making it ache with need.

“The best way to achieve that knowledge of ownership is to control its pleasure. Thus the restraints,” said Daddy, “I’m going to make that pussy feel soooo good…”

My legs started to tremble.

“…but, completely on my own terms.”

Daddy lowered his handsome face down and gave…one tiny kiss on my swollen clit. My legs trembled so much it made the chains between the headboard and the bar rattle.

Daddy looked up and smiled with delight. “Good,” he said, “I love the sound of that. Who’s pussy is this?”

“Yours Daddy,” I moaned.

“That’s right. Daddy’s sweet little pussy.”

And he went down again and gave a slightly longer kiss on my vulva, just below my clit, and then another little kiss on my clit. Then he slowly ran his tongue along my right inner thigh, and back down again. He kissed my clit again. The chains rattled again.

Then he stopped. He sat up, and just stared right into my eyes.

“Daddy, please…” I whispered.

“You can beg all you want Babygirl. Who’s in control here?”

“You Daddy.”

“That’s right. Daddy decides when and how you receive pleasure. If at all.”

I whimpered. I slowly gyrated my pelvis, to the extent that I could.

“You must feel so exposed right now, so vulnerable.”

“Yes Daddy.”

“Good,” he said, leaning forward to give little kisses on my thighs, “That’s what I want.”

I sighed.

“Who’s Daddy’s girl?”

“I’m Daddy’s girl,” I said with delight.

“That’s right. Do you feel especially owned right now?”

“Yes Daddy.”

“Wonderful,” and he bend down to give me a longer kiss on my clit, with a little tongue and a slight suction.

The chains rattled again from my trembling. My entire pelvis region was pulsating.

Daddy got down flat on his stomach. Suddenly his face was inches away from my dripping pussy. He inhaled deeply through his nose.

“My god,” he said, “You smell soooo good.”

Despite what he literally just said, I suddenly felt a tinge of insecurity.

“It’s…ok Daddy?” I said sheepishly.

“What did I just say Kitten?”

“That I smell good.”

“That’s right. Don’t question me.”

“Yes Daddy. Sorry Daddy.”

He took another big whiff, and moaned from deep in his belly.

He gave my clit one long lick, then sucked for a moment.

More chain rattles.

“Mmmm, you taste so good too.”

“Thank you Daddy.”

I closed my eyes and felt myself surrender more completely.

Then Daddy gave a longggg lick from the bottom of my vulva, and stopping at my clit to suck it. He moaned louder as he did it.

Then he did it again.

And again.

“Fuck Daddy,” I whimpered.

“That’s right Princess. Let Daddy spoil you. You deserve it, for being such a good girl.”

“Thank you Daddy.”

He gave me more long licks with a flat tongue up and down, at moments going all the way down to my asshole and back up again. Up one side, down the other and back up again. Sometimes he’d stop at my clit and give a long kiss, or he’d bypass it all together. With every lick upward I would hope and pray for my clit to get more attention.

I started to struggle against my restraints. My trembling intensified. I needed to come. I felt the mixture of pussy juice and Daddy’s spit dripping down my ass cheeks and soaking the bed. My clit practically screamed for more.

Finally Daddy stopped at my clit and licked it more. A few long licks, then short licks, then he’d suck it for a moment.

We both moaned.

From the sounds it was hard to tell who was enjoying this more. I always appreciated that Daddy was a man who wasn’t afraid to make a lot of noise in bed, and this moment was no exception.

His tongue got faster, and I could feel an orgasm starting to well, like hot lava just below the surface.

My legs cramped up trying to squeeze together, I swear I could almost bend that fucking bar! Explosive power welled up inside me, my breath got shorter and faster.

Daddy licked harder and faster.

“Fuck…Daddy…fuck…fuuuuuuuck….I’m….AAAAAHoooohuung!

I came harder than I’ve ever come in my life. For a moment, it felt as though I no longer existed. I had merged with the cosmos and slipped beyond this mundane plane of existence.

After a few minutes, or an hour, or 100 years, (Who can say?!) I became aware of my surroundings again. I looked down at Daddy smiling up at me, his mustache glazed and chin dripping. He beamed; I’d never seen him look so happy.

“I love you Kitten,” he said.

“I love you Daddy.”

He crawled up and gave me a long, sweet kiss on the mouth. I could taste myself.

Then Daddy crawled down and planted one soft kiss on my clit. I wanted to leap away but couldn’t. I was so sensitive.

He gave me more kisses on my thighs as I came back to planet earth. Then another kiss on my clit. This felt…slightly better. Then another.

I felt myself starting to feel actual desire again. But now I wanted him inside me.

“Daddy,” I said. “I need your cock. Fuck me. Please. Fuck me now.”

Daddy smiled, “Not yet Babygirl. We have so much more to do.”

“Pleeeeeease Daddy.”

“Who does that pussy belong to?”

“You Daddy.”

“That’s right,” he said. “Don’t you worry Kitten. By the end of the night I will have railed every last fucking thought out of that little head of yours. But I have so much more to do.”

He reached into the side drawer and pulled out some toys: A g spot vibrator, a magic wand, and a clitoral vibrator.

He looked at me with a devilish grin and said, “I’m not done with that pussy by a long shot.”

I laid my head back and looked at the ceiling. I knew not to even bother to count how many orgasms I was about to have.

Daddy said he was a Pleasure Dom. Now I really understood what that meant.

 

 

Thank you! I'm excited to get started.
https://soundgasm.net/u/BaritoneDaddy/GWA-Verification

Daddy was naked on the couch, legs open. I was kneeling, naked and collared, with my leash taut in Daddy’s hand.

In his soft, low voice he said, “Now run your tongue flat, nice and slow, up from the base of my cock,” and I started to lick.

Daddy was teaching me – a fuckdoll – the art of cock worship, and I wanted to make him proud of me, but I was focusing so much on his instructions I forgot something vital.

The leash tightened.

His fingers closed around my chin, firm, guiding.

“Look at me.”

I lifted my eyes to his—those intense hazel eyes—and my stomach dropped.

Oh fuck.

“What did you forget, Fuckdoll?” he said.

“I…I forgot to say ‘Yes Daddy.’”

Heat flooded my face. My heart raced, filled with dread, and…a little excitement.

We’d been through the rules.

According to my Fuckdoll contract, which I read out loud and signed:

The disciplinary ladder of correction will be as follows:

· Because Daddy is patient, the first offense will be met with a stern warning.

· For the second offense, the fuckdoll shall receive ten (10) spanks from Daddy’s hand.

· For the third offense, the fuckdoll shall receive ten (10) spanks from Daddy’s belt.

· For all subsequent offenses, should they occur, the fuckdoll shall receive an additional ten (10) spanks from Daddy’s belt each time. (E.g., if the fuckdoll needs to be corrected for the same behavior a fourth time, the fuckdoll shall receive twenty (20) spanks from Daddy’s belt, thirty (30) the fifth time, etc.)

It should be noted: Daddy spanks hard.

This was the third time.

The first time was when he told me to hold my hair up so he could collar me. The second time was when he commanded me to turn, bend over, and spread my ass – to “present” my holes to him. He put me over his lap and made me count out loud as he spanked me ten times with his hand. He did indeed spank hard. My ass still stung from it.

Which meant now—

Yes, the belt.

“How many times now have you had to be corrected for this, Fuckdoll?”

“Three, Daddy.”

“And what does that mean?”

“I get spanked with the belt, Daddy.”

A pause. Just long enough to imagine the feeling.

“That’s right. And how many spanks with the belt?”

I took a quick, deep breath, “Ten, Daddy.”

“That’s right,” he pointed to his slacks, which I had folded and placed on the ottoman when I undressed him, “Stand up, and take my belt from my pants.”

“Yes, Daddy,” I said. I REALLY didn’t want to forget again. I bent over and pulled his black leather belt out of the loops of his charcoal gray wool slacks.

He stood up beside me, I could see his cock in my peripheral vision—hard, thick, upright. Eager.

“Now, stand up straight, facing me, fold the belt in half and hold it out.”

“Yes, Daddy,” and I did as I was told.

Daddy walked over to a cabinet in the corner (I couldn’t help but glance at his round, muscular ass), and he came back with two yoga blocks.

I was puzzled, but then he placed them flat against each other on the floor next to the coffee table.

He took the belt from my outstretched hands, like a priest handling something sacramental.

“Okay, Fuckdoll, stand on the blocks, facing the table.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

I placed both feet on the blocks. I had just enough space for my feet, with only a slight challenge staying balanced.

“Okay now, bend over and place your palms on the table.”

“Yes Daddy,” I bent over.

“Good,” he said, “and put a slight bend in your knees.”

“Yes Daddy,” and I did as he instructed. With my knees bent, it was easier to plant my hands on the table.

This pose felt awkward, and certainly something that would be hard to hold for very long. I looked over at Daddy, standing naked, holding the belt in his veiny hands. His dick was almost straight up – he was clearly very turned on by this.

“I find this pose useful for a few reasons,” he said, “For one thing, there is something about even a slight elevation that makes a fuckdoll feel even more naked and exposed, doesn’t it?”

“Yes Daddy,” I said. I certainly felt especially vulnerable.

“Is this degrading for you?”

“Yes Daddy.”

“Good,” said Daddy, “And that helps remind you of what you are. What are you?”

“A fuckdoll Daddy.”

“Exactly,” he said. “Another thing about this pose is it forces you to stick your ass out, which is also a matter of safety,” he gently ran the palm of his hand over my butt, “This is the only part I want to strike. And it gives you something to focus on. Your hands. Your feet. Your breath.

“Yes Daddy,” I was starting to wonder how long he would keep talking while I was bent over like this. I was just starting to get uncomfortable. As much as I dreaded it, I started to hope he’d get it over with already. But along with the dread was something else, betrayed by the wetness from my pussy dripping down my inner thigh.

“So here is a key rule: If, over the course of your spanking, your feet or your hands move, you get five more spanks.”

Fuck, I thought.

“Repeat the rule back to me,” he said.

I took an extra-long breath, “If my hands or feet move, I get five more spanks,” I said, then panicked and added, “Daddy.”

“That’s right, as long as you completely understand.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

My legs were already starting to tremble. Not just from the position.

Anticipation.

Fear.

Want.

“Your only job is to hold still and count,” he said, “now, thank me.”

We had been over this when I got spanked before: I am to thank him before and after my spanking.

“Thank you for correcting me Daddy.”

“Oh, the pleasure is allll mine,” he said, with a smile.

The belt cut through the air…

Crack

It landed hard.

“One.”

Again. Harder.

“Two.”

Heat spread fast now.

“Three.”

“Four.”

“Five.”

My fingers pressed into the table. My toes curled against the blocks.

Swoosh, thwack!

Six. Seven.

The pain climbed fast—too fast—burning, blooming, taking over everything.

I shifted—just slightly.

“Hold still,” Daddy barked.

“Yes Daddy.”

Must. Not Move. FUCK.

Eight.

I gasped. Tears started to flow. It hurt. God, it hurt.

Nine—

My body wanted to crumble.

But I held on. Just one more.

TEN

The strike was a white-hot flame. I cried out, but was a good girl and held still for Daddy.

“What do you say?”

Through sobs, I barely got out the words, “Thank you… for… correcting me, Daddy.”

He put the belt down, sat on the couch, and held out his arms.

“Come here, babygirl, come to Daddy.”

With tears streaking down my face, I stumble off the blocks and I went to him. He pulled me into his lap, arms around me holding me close as I cried into his chest.

He gave me a sweet kiss on the forehead, “Daddy’s here, sweetheart, Daddy is right here,” and he slowly ran the palm of his hand over my back and arms as I sobbed.

“You held still and took it like a good girl. Daddy is so proud of you.”

“Thank you Daddy,” I whispered.

“I know it hurt, but Daddy just wants you to be the best fuckdoll you can be,” he said, “I am firm because I believe in you. You want to be a good fuckdoll don’t you?

“Yes Daddy, I want to be the best fuckdoll for you.”

“I know. And you will be. You just have a lot to learn. That’s just part of becoming a fuckdoll.”

“Yes Daddy.”

“Are you ready to get back to your cock worship training?”

“Yes Daddy.”

“Good.”

A pause

“Kneel on the floor.”

“Yes Daddy.”

I took my position before the majesty of his big hard cock. I couldn’t wait to have my mouth on it again.

This time, I wouldn’t forget.

I was naked—except for a leather collar around my neck—and alone in a man’s house I had just met for the first time in real life.

I had anticipated this moment for weeks now. When I slid into Daddy’s DMs, this all seemed like a far-fetched fantasy, one in which I shouldn’t invest any expectations. But we kept chatting, moving to email, then texts and FaceTime chats. As I got to know him, I started to feel safe—and in that safety, I could finally untether my sexual hunger to be totally OWNED for a day or a weekend. Daddy made every effort to ensure I felt safe in this, talking through the scene and the aftercare. He even let me share his information with a close friend as extra security.

Even just an hour ago, my whole world was far different, sending my last email from my desk at the drab law office where I work as an associate attorney. With my overnight bag in the passenger seat, I crawled through Friday afternoon Portland traffic to North Portland, where Daddy lived. Daddy wasn’t rich—a good thing, as far as I’m concerned—but he was stable enough to own a house. That made this feel real. I NEEDED this.

I parked my car in Daddy’s driveway, behind his silver Prius, and nervously fumbled with my keys and bag as I approached his front door to knock, but he opened it before I had a chance and gave me a sweet smile. There was a kindness in his eyes, this man who was about to do depraved things to me.

Daddy was very handsome, more so than in his pictures. I loved his mustache, his prominent jawline, his salt-and-pepper hair, his deep, resonant voice—his height (6’3”), his broad shoulders. His dark blue cashmere sweater, charcoal slacks, and casual wing-tip shoes made him all the more daddy-like to me.

“My god you’re beautiful,” he said, as if he were looking at a rare jewel in a museum. He took my jacket and delicately hung it in his closet. He asked me to take off my shoes as well. I usually wear flats with my business attire these days, but I chose these damn heels today for Daddy. Of course I should have realized they’d be off right away. I suffered all day at the office for what?

We were still standing in the front hallway, and he asked, “Would you like something to drink? Seltzer, tea, mango juice?”

“No thank you,” I said, too nervous to know or care about such mundanities as thirst.

He stepped closer to me, stretched his arms out a little, and asked, “Would you like a hug?”

I nodded, and he wrapped his giant arms around me and pulled me toward his barrel of a chest. I let myself sink into the softness of his sweater. As he held me for a moment, he said, in a low voice, “I’ve got you. I want you to have a wonderful time with me. You can leave at any time, it’s ok. Do you still want to do this?”

Oh, fuck, I thought, my eyes already welling as I tried not to cry within five minutes of meeting him

“Yes,” I said, fighting tears and sniffles. It’s so hard these days to feel seen, and right now I did.

“Good,” said Daddy, and he stepped back to look at me, making sustained eye contact. “Last night, you said you wanted to dive right in. Is that still what you want?

“Yes,” I said quietly and looked at the floor, while inside I was leaping and saying YESSSS!!!

Daddy smiled and took my hand and led me into his living room. He brought me in front of his couch and stood behind me with his hands on my shoulders, squaring my body to face the couch.

He sat down in front of me, confidently splaying one arm across the back, his legs crossed, and his foot made tiny circles like a cat lightly flicking the end of its tail in anticipation.

“Good,” he said, and pointed to my left. I looked to see a chair with empty clothes hangers and a basket. “Remove your clothes,” he said, with the tone of a nurse’s aide preparing me for an examination.

“Just, take them off?” I asked, as I started nervously unbuttoning my suit jacket.

“Yes,” said Daddy. “No need for a performance, we just need to dispense with this needless attire. Hang what you need and put everything else in the basket. Then I will put it all away.”

With Daddy watching me, I quickly took off my suit jacket and pants, hung them, then my shirt. As I unlatched my bra and put it in the basket, I felt more self-conscious than I ever had--and I also kind of liked it. Of course the sexy underwear I specifically planned to wear and made sure were hand-washed last night wouldn’t get the appreciation they deserved, but whatever. They too were put in the basket.

“Also, any jewelry,” he said. “There’s a small wooden box in the basket for that.” I hadn’t noticed it before, but I took off the gold necklace around my neck, opened its delicate lid, and placed my chain there.

“Good,” said Daddy. “Now stand in front of me.”

I stood, naked, arms by my sides.

He smiled. “I bet you feel very naked right now.”

I nodded.

“No. A nod will not suffice. You will respond with ‘Yes, Daddy.’”

“Yes Daddy.”

“Better,” he said. “I can see you have so much to learn. But that’s what Daddy is here for. When I ask a question or give a command, you are to say ‘Yes Daddy.’ Do you understand?”

“Yes Daddy.”

“Turn and face away from me,” he said, sternly.

I turned and faced the windows.

“What?” he asked, enunciating the “t.”

“Oh, sorry Daddy. Yes Daddy.”

“It’s ok, you haven’t even started your training yet. We’ll have a conversation about discipline later. It delights me that you have so much to learn this weekend.”

I shuddered with desire and stared out his picture window. I could feel his eyes on my naked butt while I watched a pair of crows squawk on a tree branch outside. I doubted anyone could see in, but the thought terrified me and excited me.

“Face me again.”

“Yes Daddy.”

He reached over to the side table and picked up a piece of paper. I could see it was double-sided with a printed copy. He handed it to me.

Before we begin in earnest, I need your fullest possible consent. This is your contract I wrote for you.

I felt so special.

“Read it out loud to me.”

I looked at the first few words and started to read…

“Excuse me?”

“Oh. Sorry Daddy. Yes Daddy.”

I wanted to do a good job reading it, hoping this might be the first of many times this weekend when I could hear those magic words from Daddy’s lips: “Good girl.”

I began to read:

I, the undersigned, enter into this Agreement with Daddy as his fuckdoll-in-training, under the following terms and conditions, hereto in effect upon signature, and shall remain in effect through 12 a.m. Sunday, May 15, 2026. I shall treat this fuckdoll training as the highest honor, and hold pure gratitude for Daddy’s willingness to train me.

For the duration of this Agreement, this body is the property of Daddy, and shall be entrusted to Daddy’s care for his training. I am no longer a distinct autonomous entity, and all self-determined identities no longer apply. Upon signature, the use of pronouns such as I, me, my, mine, or any other identification as an autonomous entity is prohibited.

During the fuckdoll training, names will be given and may vary. At times, the fuckdoll may be referred to as “kitten,” “slut,” “babygirl,” “sweetie,” “fuckhole,” among others. For the purposes of the rest of this document, this body will be referred to as “fuckdoll.”

Fuckdoll shall be defined as: a pretty little collection of holes.

Daddy is here to train the fuckdoll to understand that ego is an illusion, constructed by little brains that think of themselves as fixed, permanent entities. They are not. Daddy’s philosophy is that a fuckdoll must achieve complete and total devotion, beyond mere physical compliance. The fuckdoll must give herself over completely—in body, mind, and spirit.. For instance, looking in mirrors—unless commanded by Daddy—is forbidden. The fuckdoll must only see herself as reflected back by her Daddy, and shall not be concerned with appearances. Any act of preening will be corrected.

Daddy’s hand and belt will serve as key aspects of his pedagogical approach to fuckdoll training. If necessary, spankings will help the fuckdoll learn this truth and release all attachments.

The disciplinary ladder of correction will be as follows:
· Because Daddy is patient, the first offense will be met with a stern warning.
· For the second offense, the fuckdoll shall receive ten (10) spanks from Daddy’s hand.
· For the third offense, the fuckdoll shall receive ten (10) spanks from Daddy’s belt.
· For all subsequent offenses, should they occur, the fuckdoll shall receive an additional ten (10) spanks from Daddy’s belt each time. (E.g., if the fuckdoll needs to be corrected for the same behavior a fourth time, the fuckdoll shall receive twenty [20] spanks from Daddy’s belt, thirty [30] the fifth time, etc.)

It should be noted: Daddy spanks hard.

A fully trained fuckdoll must show total dedication to holding still for everything Daddy does. The fuckdoll must come to see itself as an owned object, with no agency or subjectivity. Any resistance or flinching is a sign that the fuckdoll is still holding on to such fallacious notions of self and ego and shall be corrected.

This same principle applies to any perceived experiences of pleasure as well. The fuckdoll’s pleasure is irrelevant, but since it exists for Daddy’s pleasure, the fuckdoll may find its body being used in ways that feel good. For the fuckdoll’s training, Daddy will also employ acts of stimulation and penetration. The fuckdoll must hold still for these as well or be corrected.

The fuckdoll will learn a number of commands, with highly specific actions or poses. The fuckdoll’s skill at maintaining knowledge of these commands in her tiny brain is paramount. It is also of the utmost importance that the fuckdoll responds to all commands with “Yes Daddy.”

In turn, Daddy will care for the fuckdoll-in-training as a precious jewel. No harm will be inflicted that will leave marks beyond the day. He will make sure all holes will be properly attended to and lubricated, and make sure the fuckdoll is well hydrated and nourished. Daddy understands that the fuckdoll is a being with physical limitations, and thus rest will be necessary. The fuckdoll will not be forced to hold poses for longer than her body can withstand.

The fuckdoll will have a safe word—“red”—to be used at any point. This safe word will be respected and honored by Daddy, at which time this Agreement will be immediately amended or nullified. Otherwise, these terms and conditions apply until 3 hours from signature, at which time aftercare begins.

Upon signature, this Agreement is in effect and the fuckdoll is in the custody and care of Daddy.

—

Daddy stood up from the couch and walked toward me, this time with a regular pen in his hand. He held it out to me, I reached for it, and Daddy drew it back.

“Are you sure?” he said.

I nodded with desperation. “Yes Daddy.”

“Ok.”

He handed me the pen and turned around so I could use his large back as a surface. I signed my name.

Daddy turned around, took the paper and pen from my hand, and looked at the signature. He smiled. Then he gave me the gentlest kiss on the forehead, held his lips there, and softly said the words I had waited weeks to hear:

“Good girl.”

Daddy was naked on the couch, legs open. I was kneeling, naked and collared, with my leash taut in Daddy’s hand.

In his soft, low voice he said, “Now run your tongue flat, nice and slow, up from the base of my cock,” and I started to lick.

Daddy was teaching me – a fuckdoll – the art of cock worship, and I wanted to make him proud of me, but I was focusing so much on his instructions I forgot something vital.

The leash tightened.

His fingers closed around my chin, firm, guiding.

“Look at me.”

I lifted my eyes to his—those intense hazel eyes—and my stomach dropped.

Oh fuck.

“What did you forget, Fuckdoll?” he said.

“I…I forgot to say ‘Yes Daddy.’”

Heat flooded my face. My heart raced, filled with dread, and…a little excitement.

We’d been through the rules.

According to my Fuckdoll contract, which I read out loud and signed:

The disciplinary ladder of correction will be as follows:

· Because Daddy is patient, the first offense will be met with a stern warning.

· For the second offense, the fuckdoll shall receive ten (10) spanks from Daddy’s hand.

· For the third offense, the fuckdoll shall receive ten (10) spanks from Daddy’s belt.

· For all subsequent offenses, should they occur, the fuckdoll shall receive an additional ten (10) spanks from Daddy’s belt each time. (E.g., if the fuckdoll needs to be corrected for the same behavior a fourth time, the fuckdoll shall receive twenty (20) spanks from Daddy’s belt, thirty (30) the fifth time, etc.)

It should be noted: Daddy spanks hard.

This was the third time.

The first time was when he told me to hold my hair up so he could collar me. The second time was when he commanded me to turn, bend over, and spread my ass – to “present” my holes to him. He put me over his lap and made me count out loud as he spanked me ten times with his hand. He did indeed spank hard. My ass still stung from it.

Which meant now—

Yes, the belt.

“How many times now have you had to be corrected for this, Fuckdoll?”

“Three, Daddy.”

“And what does that mean?”

“I get spanked with the belt, Daddy.”

A pause. Just long enough to imagine the feeling.

“That’s right. And how many spanks with the belt?”

I took a quick, deep breath, “Ten, Daddy.”

“That’s right,” he pointed to his slacks, which I had folded and placed on the ottoman when I undressed him, “Stand up, and take my belt from my pants.”

“Yes, Daddy,” I said. I REALLY didn’t want to forget again. I bent over and pulled his black leather belt out of the loops of his charcoal gray wool slacks.

He stood up beside me, I could see his cock in my peripheral vision—hard, thick, upright. Eager.

“Now, stand up straight, facing me, fold the belt in half and hold it out.”

“Yes, Daddy,” and I did as I was told.

Daddy walked over to a cabinet in the corner (I couldn’t help but glance at his round, muscular ass), and he came back with two yoga blocks.

I was puzzled, but then he placed them flat against each other on the floor next to the coffee table.

He took the belt from my outstretched hands, like a priest handling something sacramental.

“Okay, Fuckdoll, stand on the blocks, facing the table.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

I placed both feet on the blocks. I had just enough space for my feet, with only a slight challenge staying balanced.

“Okay now, bend over and place your palms on the table.”

“Yes Daddy,” I bent over.

“Good,” he said, “and put a slight bend in your knees.”

“Yes Daddy,” and I did as he instructed. With my knees bent, it was easier to plant my hands on the table.

This pose felt awkward, and certainly something that would be hard to hold for very long. I looked over at Daddy, standing naked, holding the belt in his veiny hands. His dick was almost straight up – he was clearly very turned on by this.

“I find this pose useful for a few reasons,” he said, “For one thing, there is something about even a slight elevation that makes a fuckdoll feel even more naked and exposed, doesn’t it?”

“Yes Daddy,” I said. I certainly felt especially vulnerable.

“Is this degrading for you?”

“Yes Daddy.”

“Good,” said Daddy, “And that helps remind you of what you are. What are you?”

“A fuckdoll Daddy.”

“Exactly,” he said. “Another thing about this pose is it forces you to stick your ass out, which is also a matter of safety,” he gently ran the palm of his hand over my butt, “This is the only part I want to strike. And it gives you something to focus on. Your hands. Your feet. Your breath.

“Yes Daddy,” I was starting to wonder how long he would keep talking while I was bent over like this. I was just starting to get uncomfortable. As much as I dreaded it, I started to hope he’d get it over with already. But along with the dread was something else, betrayed by the wetness from my pussy dripping down my inner thigh.

“So here is a key rule: If, over the course of your spanking, your feet or your hands move, you get five more spanks.”

Fuck, I thought.

“Repeat the rule back to me,” he said.

I took an extra-long breath, “If my hands or feet move, I get five more spanks,” I said, then panicked and added, “Daddy.”

“That’s right, as long as you completely understand.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

My legs were already starting to tremble. Not just from the position.

Anticipation.

Fear.

Want.

“Your only job is to hold still and count,” he said, “now, thank me.”

We had been over this when I got spanked before: I am to thank him before and after my spanking.

“Thank you for correcting me Daddy.”

“Oh, the pleasure is allll mine,” he said, with a smile.

The belt cut through the air…

Crack

It landed hard.

“One.”

Again. Harder.

“Two.”

Heat spread fast now.

“Three.”

“Four.”

“Five.”

My fingers pressed into the table. My toes curled against the blocks.

Swoosh, thwack!

Six. Seven.

The pain climbed fast—too fast—burning, blooming, taking over everything.

I shifted—just slightly.

“Hold still,” Daddy barked.

“Yes Daddy.”

Must. Not Move. FUCK.

Eight.

I gasped. Tears started to flow. It hurt. God, it hurt.

Nine—

My body wanted to crumble.

But I held on. Just one more.

TEN

The strike was a white-hot flame. I cried out, but was a good girl and held still for Daddy.

“What do you say?”

Through sobs, I barely got out the words, “Thank you… for… correcting me, Daddy.”

He put the belt down, sat on the couch, and held out his arms.

“Come here, babygirl, come to Daddy.”

With tears streaking down my face, I stumble off the blocks and I went to him. He pulled me into his lap, arms around me holding me close as I cried into his chest.

He gave me a sweet kiss on the forehead, “Daddy’s here, sweetheart, Daddy is right here,” and he slowly ran the palm of his hand over my back and arms as I sobbed.

“You held still and took it like a good girl. Daddy is so proud of you.”

“Thank you Daddy,” I whispered.

“I know it hurt, but Daddy just wants you to be the best fuckdoll you can be,” he said, “I am firm because I believe in you. You want to be a good fuckdoll don’t you?

“Yes Daddy, I want to be the best fuckdoll for you.”

“I know. And you will be. You just have a lot to learn. That’s just part of becoming a fuckdoll.”

“Yes Daddy.”

“Are you ready to get back to your cock worship training?”

“Yes Daddy.”

“Good.”

A pause

“Kneel on the floor.”

“Yes Daddy.”

I took my position before the majesty of his big hard cock. I couldn’t wait to have my mouth on it again.

This time, I wouldn’t forget.

I was naked—except for a leather collar around my neck—and alone in a man’s house I had just met for the first time in real life.

I had anticipated this moment for weeks now. When I slid into Daddy’s DMs, this all seemed like a far-fetched fantasy, one in which I shouldn’t invest any expectations. But we kept chatting, moving to email, then texts and FaceTime chats. As I got to know him, I started to feel safe—and in that safety, I could finally untether my sexual hunger to be totally OWNED for a day or a weekend. Daddy made every effort to ensure I felt safe in this, talking through the scene and the aftercare. He even let me share his information with a close friend as extra security.

Even just an hour ago, my whole world was far different, sending my last email from my desk at the drab law office where I work as an associate attorney. With my overnight bag in the passenger seat, I crawled through Friday afternoon Portland traffic to North Portland, where Daddy lived. Daddy wasn’t rich—a good thing, as far as I’m concerned—but he was stable enough to own a house. That made this feel real. I NEEDED this.

I parked my car in Daddy’s driveway, behind his silver Prius, and nervously fumbled with my keys and bag as I approached his front door to knock, but he opened it before I had a chance and gave me a sweet smile. There was a kindness in his eyes, this man who was about to do depraved things to me.

Daddy was very handsome, more so than in his pictures. I loved his mustache, his prominent jawline, his salt-and-pepper hair, his deep, resonant voice—his height (6’3”), his broad shoulders. His dark blue cashmere sweater, charcoal slacks, and casual wing-tip shoes made him all the more daddy-like to me.

“My god you’re beautiful,” he said, as if he were looking at a rare jewel in a museum. He took my jacket and delicately hung it in his closet. He asked me to take off my shoes as well. I usually wear flats with my business attire these days, but I chose these damn heels today for Daddy. Of course I should have realized they’d be off right away. I suffered all day at the office for what?

We were still standing in the front hallway, and he asked, “Would you like something to drink? Seltzer, tea, mango juice?”

“No thank you,” I said, too nervous to know or care about such mundanities as thirst.

He stepped closer to me, stretched his arms out a little, and asked, “Would you like a hug?”

I nodded, and he wrapped his giant arms around me and pulled me toward his barrel of a chest. I let myself sink into the softness of his sweater. As he held me for a moment, he said, in a low voice, “I’ve got you. I want you to have a wonderful time with me. You can leave at any time, it’s ok. Do you still want to do this?”

Oh, fuck, I thought, my eyes already welling as I tried not to cry within five minutes of meeting him

“Yes,” I said, fighting tears and sniffles. It’s so hard these days to feel seen, and right now I did.

“Good,” said Daddy, and he stepped back to look at me, making sustained eye contact. “Last night, you said you wanted to dive right in. Is that still what you want?

“Yes,” I said quietly and looked at the floor, while inside I was leaping and saying YESSSS!!!

Daddy smiled and took my hand and led me into his living room. He brought me in front of his couch and stood behind me with his hands on my shoulders, squaring my body to face the couch.

He sat down in front of me, confidently splaying one arm across the back, his legs crossed, and his foot made tiny circles like a cat lightly flicking the end of its tail in anticipation.

“Good,” he said, and pointed to my left. I looked to see a chair with empty clothes hangers and a basket. “Remove your clothes,” he said, with the tone of a nurse’s aide preparing me for an examination.

“Just, take them off?” I asked, as I started nervously unbuttoning my suit jacket.

“Yes,” said Daddy. “No need for a performance, we just need to dispense with this needless attire. Hang what you need and put everything else in the basket. Then I will put it all away.”

With Daddy watching me, I quickly took off my suit jacket and pants, hung them, then my shirt. As I unlatched my bra and put it in the basket, I felt more self-conscious than I ever had--and I also kind of liked it. Of course the sexy underwear I specifically planned to wear and made sure were hand-washed last night wouldn’t get the appreciation they deserved, but whatever. They too were put in the basket.

“Also, any jewelry,” he said. “There’s a small wooden box in the basket for that.” I hadn’t noticed it before, but I took off the gold necklace around my neck, opened its delicate lid, and placed my chain there.

“Good,” said Daddy. “Now stand in front of me.”

I stood, naked, arms by my sides.

He smiled. “I bet you feel very naked right now.”

I nodded.

“No. A nod will not suffice. You will respond with ‘Yes, Daddy.’”

“Yes Daddy.”

“Better,” he said. “I can see you have so much to learn. But that’s what Daddy is here for. When I ask a question or give a command, you are to say ‘Yes Daddy.’ Do you understand?”

“Yes Daddy.”

“Turn and face away from me,” he said, sternly.

I turned and faced the windows.

“What?” he asked, enunciating the “t.”

“Oh, sorry Daddy. Yes Daddy.”

“It’s ok, you haven’t even started your training yet. We’ll have a conversation about discipline later. It delights me that you have so much to learn this weekend.”

I shuddered with desire and stared out his picture window. I could feel his eyes on my naked butt while I watched a pair of crows squawk on a tree branch outside. I doubted anyone could see in, but the thought terrified me and excited me.

“Face me again.”

“Yes Daddy.”

He reached over to the side table and picked up a piece of paper. I could see it was double-sided with a printed copy. He handed it to me.

Before we begin in earnest, I need your fullest possible consent. This is your contract I wrote for you.

I felt so special.

“Read it out loud to me.”

I looked at the first few words and started to read…

“Excuse me?”

“Oh. Sorry Daddy. Yes Daddy.”

I wanted to do a good job reading it, hoping this might be the first of many times this weekend when I could hear those magic words from Daddy’s lips: “Good girl.”

I began to read:

I, the undersigned, enter into this Agreement with Daddy as his fuckdoll-in-training, under the following terms and conditions, hereto in effect upon signature, and shall remain in effect through 12 a.m. Sunday, May 15, 2026. I shall treat this fuckdoll training as the highest honor, and hold pure gratitude for Daddy’s willingness to train me.

For the duration of this Agreement, this body is the property of Daddy, and shall be entrusted to Daddy’s care for his training. I am no longer a distinct autonomous entity, and all self-determined identities no longer apply. Upon signature, the use of pronouns such as I, me, my, mine, or any other identification as an autonomous entity is prohibited.

During the fuckdoll training, names will be given and may vary. At times, the fuckdoll may be referred to as “kitten,” “slut,” “babygirl,” “sweetie,” “fuckhole,” among others. For the purposes of the rest of this document, this body will be referred to as “fuckdoll.”

Fuckdoll shall be defined as: a pretty little collection of holes.

Daddy is here to train the fuckdoll to understand that ego is an illusion, constructed by little brains that think of themselves as fixed, permanent entities. They are not. Daddy’s philosophy is that a fuckdoll must achieve complete and total devotion, beyond mere physical compliance. The fuckdoll must give herself over completely—in body, mind, and spirit.. For instance, looking in mirrors—unless commanded by Daddy—is forbidden. The fuckdoll must only see herself as reflected back by her Daddy, and shall not be concerned with appearances. Any act of preening will be corrected.

Daddy’s hand and belt will serve as key aspects of his pedagogical approach to fuckdoll training. If necessary, spankings will help the fuckdoll learn this truth and release all attachments.

The disciplinary ladder of correction will be as follows:
· Because Daddy is patient, the first offense will be met with a stern warning.
· For the second offense, the fuckdoll shall receive ten (10) spanks from Daddy’s hand.
· For the third offense, the fuckdoll shall receive ten (10) spanks from Daddy’s belt.
· For all subsequent offenses, should they occur, the fuckdoll shall receive an additional ten (10) spanks from Daddy’s belt each time. (E.g., if the fuckdoll needs to be corrected for the same behavior a fourth time, the fuckdoll shall receive twenty [20] spanks from Daddy’s belt, thirty [30] the fifth time, etc.)

It should be noted: Daddy spanks hard.

A fully trained fuckdoll must show total dedication to holding still for everything Daddy does. The fuckdoll must come to see itself as an owned object, with no agency or subjectivity. Any resistance or flinching is a sign that the fuckdoll is still holding on to such fallacious notions of self and ego and shall be corrected.

This same principle applies to any perceived experiences of pleasure as well. The fuckdoll’s pleasure is irrelevant, but since it exists for Daddy’s pleasure, the fuckdoll may find its body being used in ways that feel good. For the fuckdoll’s training, Daddy will also employ acts of stimulation and penetration. The fuckdoll must hold still for these as well or be corrected.

The fuckdoll will learn a number of commands, with highly specific actions or poses. The fuckdoll’s skill at maintaining knowledge of these commands in her tiny brain is paramount. It is also of the utmost importance that the fuckdoll responds to all commands with “Yes Daddy.”

In turn, Daddy will care for the fuckdoll-in-training as a precious jewel. No harm will be inflicted that will leave marks beyond the day. He will make sure all holes will be properly attended to and lubricated, and make sure the fuckdoll is well hydrated and nourished. Daddy understands that the fuckdoll is a being with physical limitations, and thus rest will be necessary. The fuckdoll will not be forced to hold poses for longer than her body can withstand.

The fuckdoll will have a safe word—“red”—to be used at any point. This safe word will be respected and honored by Daddy, at which time this Agreement will be immediately amended or nullified. Otherwise, these terms and conditions apply until 3 hours from signature, at which time aftercare begins.

Upon signature, this Agreement is in effect and the fuckdoll is in the custody and care of Daddy.

—

Daddy stood up from the couch and walked toward me, this time with a regular pen in his hand. He held it out to me, I reached for it, and Daddy drew it back.

“Are you sure?” he said.

I nodded with desperation. “Yes Daddy.”

“Ok.”

He handed me the pen and turned around so I could use his large back as a surface. I signed my name.

Daddy turned around, took the paper and pen from my hand, and looked at the signature. He smiled. Then he gave me the gentlest kiss on the forehead, held his lips there, and softly said the words I had waited weeks to hear:

“Good girl.”

I was naked – except for a leather collar around my neck – and alone in a man’s house I just met for the first time in real life.

I had anticipated this moment for weeks now. When I slid into Daddy’s DMs this all seemed like a far-fetched fantasy, one in which I shouldn’t invest any expectations. But we kept chatting, moving to email, then texts and facetime chats. As I got to know him a little I started to think I could feel safe with him, and in that feeling of safety I could untether my sexual hunger to be totally OWNED for a day, or a weekend. Daddy made every effort to make sure I felt good about this, talking through the scene and the aftercare. He even let me share his information with a close friend as extra security.

Even just an hour ago my whole world was far different, sending my last email from my desk at the drab law office where I work as an associate attorney. With my overnight bag in the passenger seat I crawled through Friday afternoon Portland traffic to North Portland where Daddy lived. Daddy wasn’t rich–a good thing as far as I’m concerned--but middle-class enough to have a house; details which made this feel more solid to me. I NEEDED this.

I parked my car in Daddy’s driveway, behind his silver Prius, and nervously fumbled with my keys and bag as I approached his front door to knock, but he opened it before I had a chance, and gave me a sweet smile. There was a kindness in his eyes, this man who was about to do depraved things to me.

Daddy was very handsome, more so than in his pictures. I loved his mustache, prominent jawline, salt-and-pepper hair, deep resonant voice, height (6’3”), and broad shoulders. His dark blue cashmere sweater, charcoal slacks, and casual wing-tip shoes make him all the more daddy-like to me.

“My god you’re beautiful,” he said, as if he were looking at a rare jewel in a museum. He took my jacket and delicately hung it in his closet. He asked me to take off my shoes as well. I usually wear flats with my business attire these days, but I chose these damn heels today, for Daddy. Of course I should have realized they’d be off right away. I suffered all day at the office, for what?

We were still standing in the front hallway, and he asked, “Would you like something to drink? I have seltzer, tea, mango juice?”

“No thank you,” I said, too nervous to know or care about such mundanities as thirst.

He stepped closer to me, stretched his arms out a little and asked, “Would you like a hug?”

I nodded and he wrapped his giant arms around me and pulled me toward his barrel of a chest. I let myself sink into the softness of his sweater. As he held me for a moment he said, in a low voice, “I’ve got you. I want you to have a wonderful time with me. You can leave at any time, it’s ok. Do you still want to do this?”

Oh fuck, I thought, as my eyes welled up a little and I was desperate not to embarrass myself by CRYING within five minutes of meeting him!

“Yes,” I said, fighting tears and sniffles. It’s so hard these days to feel seen, and right now I did.

“Good,” said Daddy, and he stepped back to look at me, making sustained eye contact, “When we talked last night you said you wanted to just dive right in, is that still what you want?”

“Yes,” I said quietly and looked at the floor, while inside I was leaping and saying YESSSS!!!

Daddy smiled and took my hand, and led me into his living room. He brought me in front of his couch, and stood behind me with his hands on my shoulders, squaring my body to face the couch. 

He sat down in front of me, confidently splaying one arm across the back, his legs crossed, and his foot made tiny circles like a cat lightly flicking the end of its tail in anticipation.

“Good,” he said, and pointed to my left. I looked to see a chair with empty clothes hangers and a basket. “Remove your clothes,” he said, with the tone of a nurse's aid preparing me for an examination.

“Just, take them off?” I asked, as I started nervously unbuttoning my suit jacket.

“Yes,” said Daddy. “No need for a performance, we just need to dispense with this needless attire. Hang what you need and put everything else in the basket. Then I will put it all away.” 

With Daddy watching me I quickly took off my suit jacket and pants, hung them, then my shirt. As I unlatched my bra and put it in the basket I felt more self-conscious than I ever have, but…I also kinda liked it. Of course the sexy underwear I specifically planned to wear and made sure were hand washed last night wouldn’t get the appreciation they deserved, but whatever. They too were put in the basket. 

“Also any jewelry,” he said, “There’s a small wooden box in the basket for that. I hadn’t noticed it before, but I took off the gold necklace around my neck, opened its delicate lid, and placed my chain there.

“Good,” said Daddy, “Now stand in front of me.”

I stood, naked, arms by my sides.

He smiled, “I bet you feel very naked right now.” 

I nodded. 

“No. A nod will not suffice. You will respond with ‘Yes Daddy,’”

“Yes Daddy.”

“Better,” he said, “I can see you have so much to learn. But that’s what Daddy is here for. When I ask a question or give a command, you are to say ‘Yes Daddy.’ Do you understand?”

“Yes Daddy.” 

“Turn and face away from me,” he said, sternly. 

I turned and faced the windows.

“What?” he asked, enunciating the “t.”

“Oh, sorry Daddy. Yes Daddy.”

“It’s ok, you haven’t even started your training yet. We’ll have a conversation about discipline later. It delights me that you have so much to learn this weekend.”

I shuddered with desire and stared out his picture window. I could feel his eyes on my naked butt while I watched a pair of crows squawk on a tree branch outside. I doubted anyone could see in, but the thought terrified me and excited me.

“Face me again.”

“Yes Daddy.”

He reached over to the side table and picked up a piece of paper. I could see it was double-sided with a printed copy. He handed it to me.

Before we begin in earnest, I need your fullest possible consent. This is your contract I wrote for you.

I felt so special.

“Read it out loud to me.”

I looked at the first few words, and started to read…

“Excuse me?” 

“Oh. Sorry Daddy. Yes Daddy.”

I wanted to do a good job reading it, hoping this might be the first of many times this weekend when I could hear those magic words from Daddy’s lips: “Good girl.”

I began to read:

I, the undersigned, enter into this Agreement with Daddy as his fuckdoll-in-training, under the following terms and conditions, hereto in effect upon signature, and shall remain in effect through 12am Sunday, May 15, 2026. I shall treat this fuckdoll training as the highest honor, and hold pure gratitude for Daddy’s willingness to train me. 

For the duration of this Agreement, this body is the property of Daddy, and shall be entrusted to the care of Daddy for his training. I am no longer a distinct autonomous entity, and all self-determined identities no longer apply. Upon signature, the use of pronouns such as I, me, my, mine or any other identification as an autonomous entity are prohibited. 

During the fuckdoll training, names will be given, and may vary. At times the fuckdoll may be referred to as “kitten,” “slut,” “babygirl” “sweetie,” “fuckhole,” among others. For the purposes of the rest of this document, this body will be referred to as “fuckdoll.” 

Fuckdoll shall be defined as: A pretty little collection of holes.

Daddy is here to train the fuckdoll to see that egos are illusions, constructed by little brains that think of themselves as fixed, permanent entities. They are not. Daddy’s philosophy is that a fuckdoll must achieve complete and total devotion, beyond mere physical compliance. The fuckdoll must completely give herself over–in body, mind, and spirit. For instance, looking in mirrors–unless commanded so by Daddy–is forbidden. The fuckdoll must only see herself as reflected back by her Daddy, and shall not be concerned with appearances. Any act of preening will be corrected.

Daddy’s hand and belt will serve as key aspects of his pedagogical approach to fuckdoll training. If necessary, spankings will help the fuckdoll to know this truth, and release all attachments. 

The disciplinary ladder of correction will be as follows:

• Because Daddy is patient, the first offense will be met with stern warning.
• For the second offense, the fuckdoll shall receive ten (10) spanks from Daddy’s hand.
• For the third offense, the fuckdoll shall receive ten (10) spanks from Daddy’s belt.
• For all subsequent offenses, should they occur, the fuckdoll shall receive an additional ten (10) spanks from Daddy’s belt each time. (E.g. if the fuckdoll needs to be corrected for the same behavior a fourth time, the fuckdoll shall receive twenty [20] spanks from Daddy’s belt, thirty [30] the fifth time, etc..)

 

It should be noted that Daddy spanks hard. 

A fully trained fuckdoll must show total dedication to holding still for everything Daddy does. The fuckdoll must come to see itself as an owned object, with no agency or subjectivity. Any resistance or flinching is a sign that the fuckdoll is still holding on to such fallacious notions of self and ego, and shall be corrected. 

This same principle applies to any perceived experiences of pleasure as well. The fuckdoll’s pleasure is irrelevant, but since it exists for Daddy’s pleasure, the fuckdoll may find its body being used in ways that feel good. For the fuckdoll’s training, Daddy will also employ acts of stimulation and penetration. The fuckdoll must hold still for these as well, or be corrected.

The fuckdoll will learn a number of commands, with highly specific actions or poses. The fuckdoll’s skill at maintaining knowledge of these commands in her tiny brain is paramount. It is also of the utmost importance that the fuckdoll responds to all commands with “Yes Daddy.”

In turn Daddy will care for the fuckdoll-in-training as a precious jewel. No harm will be inflicted that will leave marks beyond the day. He will make sure all holes will be properly attended to and lubricated, and make sure the fuckdoll is well hydrated and nourished. Daddy understands that the fuckdoll is a being with physical limitations, and thus rest will be necessary. The fuckdoll will not be forced to hold poses for longer that her body can withstand.

The fuckdoll will have a safe-word–”red”–to be used at any point. This safe-word will be respected and honored by Daddy, at which time this Agreement will be immediately amended or nullified. Otherwise these terms and conditions apply until 3 hours from signature, at which time aftercare begins.

Upon signature, this Agreement is in effect and the fuckdoll is in the custody and care of Daddy.

–

Daddy stood up from the couch and walked toward me, this time with a regular pen in his hand. He held it out to me, I reached for it, and Daddy drew it back.

“Are you sure?” he said.

I nodded with desperation, “Yes Daddy.”

“Ok.”

He handed me the pen, and turned around so I could use his large back as a surface. I signed my name.

Daddy turned around, took the paper and pen from my hand, and looked at the signature. He smiled. Then he gave me the gentlest kiss on the forehead, held his lips there, and softly said the words I had waited weeks to hear:

“Good girl.”