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My Daddy tells the best, sweetest, blushiest bedtime stories.

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“Bedtime, dear.”

Seeing this text every night makes me smile. I feel owned and little and cared for.

passius:

obey-sir: passius:

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He knows that defiance is just the most honest, most precious manifestation of fear.

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At first, she protested, insisted she couldn’t. It was too stringent, too uncomfortable. It was cruel and unusual. But once the gag – however ineffective – went on, she already felt herself start to fall asleep.

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He could’ve sworn she’d planned to be a good girl that day.

But, silly Daddy, things don’t always go according to plan.

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I haven’t gotten a really thorough inspection in quite a while.

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Yesterday, he grabbed me a little like this and dipped me down so my head hung over the side of the bed. 

I rubbed my clit while I licked and sucked his cock, letting him thrust and fuck my face as I did. He shoved so deep into my throat that his scrotum blocked my nostrils, completely cutting off my breath. When he pulled back, I coughed and sucked in air hungrily.

But I still let him keep doing it over and over.