Tag Archives: games

Presents for Daddy

Once again, the holiday season is upon us! As one that lives in an area of transplants, I watch throughout the holiday seasons as my dear ones make their pilgrimages home, returning a week or so later craving their own beds and the cultural bubble of the Bay Area. My Daddy Ryan and myself are two of those transplants and will basically be spending two weeks apart when we’re used to seeing each other a couple times a week. Rather than be down about this (and pout epically, and whine about not getting Daddy for so long) I let my mind wander to possibilities.. Having distance, rather than being a hindrance, can be an opportunity to try a whole new set of games…

I didn’t want Daddy to go away. It scared me, lots. While we ate dinner, it scared me. While he gave me owies and made my bottom red, red red and tried to make it purple, it scared me. Even as he hid his lolly in my princess parts and yanked my hair as he fucked me, growing in my ear, ‘cum for Daddy’ it scared me. 

Curled up in the nook after, Daddy traced his finger up and down my arm. I had my eyes closed, listening to the sound of his heartbeat and was trying not to think about him disappearing for a long long time. And not getting play. Or cummies. Or Daddy’s voice or hands or smell or..

“Kitten, tell me something you need me to know.” 

“MEWWW” I squirmed in his arms as his grip tightened. The phrase was a hypno button he had set up months ago. The he said it, I had to answer truthfully. It was a reflex, an instinct, and a pain in the ass to fight.

“I’m scared of you going away and not getting Daddy time and you not wanting kitten time and being all bored with me and and..and losing connecting.” I hugged him tight, his chest hair tickling my nose as I burrowed further into the nook.

He chuckled. “That’s what’s bothering you? Such a silly kitten. Do you really think we aren’t going to play for two whole weeks?” I nodded frantically and he laughed again. “Oh no, sweetie. Daddy has plans for his little princess. We’re going to play a fun game while we’re apart, one with fun rules and prizes.” He ran his nail down my arm, making me purr at the slight twinge of pain. “Good girls get lots of prizes… Are you ready to learn the rules?”

Days later, Daddy was away. I was taking care of home, cleaning and washing and sweeping and petting the kitty; all the important things, and I was following the first rule of our game. Have my phone on me when I could. When I can’t, tell Daddy I couldn’t talk. Let him know when I come back. 

Buzz Buzz. A message from Daddy. We had been talking all day, but this one was special.

Rule two of the new game was really simple. Look for the magic words.

Mmm.. Kitten? Daddy wants a present.

I squeed and squirmed, plopping down eagerly with the phone in my hands, waiting on further instruction. Rule three of the game was just that When Daddy says he wants a present, his little girl gets to do the best she can to give it to him. Whatever that present is.

How may I please you, Daddy?

Good Girl came the quick reply. I want you to go into the bedroom, strip down, and lay on the bed. Bring your phone and let me know when you’ve done as I asked.

I giggled as I ran to the bedroom, pulling off my clothing as I went. The moment my bare ass hit the bed I messaged Daddy.

Good job, kitten. Now, you see that lovely glass dildo on the floor of the bed? It was pretty, and BIG. Daddy had only used it on me once and it stretched my little cunny wide. I want you to be a good girl and fuck yourself with it. And I want to see. Send Daddy a video of you coming like a good little slut and you’ll get a reward.

I grabbed the dildo and had it angled at my entrance when my phone pinged again. Not so fast, princess. Show me that you properly prepped it.

I grinned, bringing the toy from the entrance of my cunny to my lips, slipping as much of it down my throat as I could and taking a selfie for Daddy.

Good girl. Now. Where’s my video?

The dildo, now slick with my saliva, slid in with little resistance. I propped my phone up against the pillows to get the best angle possible as I eagerly fucked myself, already squirmy from just a couple of days without sex. My moans turned into whimpers as I got close, eyes shut tight, imagining Daddy fucking me hard into the mattress, his hand wrapped around my throat and his cock buried balls-deep in me time, after time after time.

“Daddy!!! I’m cumming… cumming, cumming, cumming!!”

I slumped down onto the mattress, toy still inside me, and sent the video. A few minutes later I heard the ding of a message coming through.

Instead of words it was a sound bite, a short recording. I hit play and brought the phone to my ear in time to hear labored breathing on the other end. “Such a good girl” Daddy growled into the phone. Ready for your reward?” I closed my eyes and moaned as I heard him cumming on the other end of the phone, suddenly turned on all over again. You may cum again if you want, sweetie, but last time for tonight.” Out of habit I heard myself answer, “yes, Daddy” out loud, and then with gusto I began fucking myself all over again, listening to the recording for inspiration.. 

 

The next day I was at work, sitting at my desk trudging through paperwork. I had messages open, hiding behind tabs on my desktop, and saw the flash of a notification from Daddy. “I hope your having a good day, princess. Daddy wants a present.”

I was confused. Daddy knew I was at work. It’s not like I had naughty toys to fuck myself with at the office. “But Daddy.” 

No buts, princess. I know you’re at work. Now, what are the rules of our game?”

I sighed, even more confused. “How may I please you, Daddy?” 

By going into the bathroom right now and taking your panties off. Send me proof.” I stared at the message in shock. I had leggings and a dress on. A lack of panties wouldn’t kill me. But did he really expect me to sit around and squirm all day?

I slipped into the bathroom with my purse and wiggled out of my panties, sending Daddy a picture of them in my hand before throwing them into the bottom of my bag and pulling my leggings back up. My phone buzzed. “That’s not enough, princess. I asked you to show me proof that the panties were off.” My face turned bright red as I yanked my leggings down and raised my dress, sending Daddy a photo of my bare princess parts about to be covered in nothing but the thin leggings that he knew would be soaked by the end of the day. My phone buzzed again. 

That’s what I wanted. Good girl.” Another bing as a video came through. “You may watch this AFTER WORK. It’s your reward.” And a reward it was. I sat in my car after work staring at my phone as Daddy stroked himself hard, teasing me with a few for just a few moments before the camera turned off. 

 

Days later I had gone bareback multiple times, slipped him a tit shot while at work, came silently while sitting in our local coffee shop after rubbing one off for him, and managed to send Daddy a photo of me fucking myself with my favorite vibrator with a plug in my ass. Now I was packing for my own trip. Daddy had been back in town for just a few hours, and I was disappearing just as he came back. I thought the game was over. 

My phone buzzed. “Kitten, Daddy wants a present.” I wasn’t going to say no. I loved all the tasks he had given me. And in return, he had given me videos and sound bites to orgasm by. “I want you to bring your little black butt plug to the airport with you, in your carry on bag. Can you do that for Daddy?” I gulped before slipping it into my bag. Of course, Daddy. I like playing games. 

It’s normal for me to let Daddy know when I’ve gotten to the airport, and through security and safely to my gate. What isn’t normal is getting marching orders once I get there. “I want you to go into the bathroom and slip the plug into that tight little asshole of yours. Show me proof.” 

I ran to the restroom slipping into one of the stalls and hurriedly pulling my pants down. My flight would be boarding in moments, and I only had that little bit of time to wet the plug with my mouth and bit by bit toy my ass with it before slipping it in. It’s harder for me to keep silent during anal play. I had my eyes shut tight as I teased myself, trying my best not to pant or moan and alert the people in the stalls on either side that there was more than simple bathroom business going on. Once the plug was insert, I set a timer on my phone, turned, and spread my ass wide for Daddy to see the pretty little plug resting snuggly in my naughty back door. I sent the message and wanted to cry at the reply. 

Good girl. Now don’t you dare take that out until you’ve landed. Send me proof once you land that it’s still inside and you’ll get a very, very big reward sweetie.” 

For SIX HOURS I squirmed in my seat, desperate to find a position that wouldn’t have me horny, or whimpering, or dripping. I kept my legs clamped firmly together and tried my best to sleep. It didn’t hurt, but it did keep me near on edge to the point where I could barely see straight by the time my flight ended. 

I ran to the bathroom, flinging open the door of the first empty stall I could find and snapping my landing photo, ass spread wide again, cunny dripping between my legs. Immediately, Daddy responded. 

“Good girl. You get your reward tonight, when you’re home and able to talk to just Daddy. I want you to call Daddy for a night night phone call, okay?” 

I squealed out loud. I loved Daddy’s voice, and I missed it with him being gone. I suppose I’m a little bit of a sensory slut. “Yes, Daddy.” 

At home, in bed, I called Daddy. I was still squirmy from the flight and had sat through dinner with my bio family and hours of conversation with the thought of what my reward would be. Daddy picked up on the second ring. “Well hello sweetie! Are you happy we’re still playing our little game?”

I giggled. “Yes, Daddy.. I’m just surprised.. I thought it would stop after your trip.”

“OH no, sweetie. That would make your trip just much too boring, now wouldn’t it?”

Do you want more presents, Daddy?”

Oh yes, sweetie. Quite a few more. Daddy is going to keep you nice and busy while you’re away. And when you come home, you’ll be nice and ready for Daddy to hide his lolly. Should Daddy tell you a bedtime story about how he’s going to hide it when you come home?”

“Oh, yes, please, Daddy!”  

Daddy laughed. “That’s my good girl. Now touch yourself while I tell it and imagine all that Daddy is saying, okay? Once upon a time there was a squirmy little kitten that hadn’t gotten nearly enough lolly pop time..” 

And that’s all, folks 😉 I hope you liked my little tale. I wanted to write in a scene about a hypno-fuck over Skype and a couple of naughty phone calls, buuuuut those can be entires in and of themselves. I hope the idea came across with the length being bearable. And now I’m squirmy and want to play with Daddy…

Yours, horny as hell

-Rene

 

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Same Dance, Different Steps

 

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The rhythm of routine is a comforting one in a world that no longer makes sense to me.

I see hate in so many places and cruelty where there once was kindess. I admit that I hade in the welcoming arms of my community. I mark, I protest, I growl with the rest of them, and then I run back to my land of misfits to dance another day.

My routines are simple, and exhausting. And I suppose, simply exhausting. I go to BaGG every week, managing to show up hours early to sit across from the stubborn asshole I love while he works and I work.. and then we dance.

We have yet to physically play, James and I. Not since he took my collar, slave ring, and pendant. I often wonder about the box they’re placed in. Is it plain, decorated. Does he take it out, along with photos and momentos, love letters and notes, and godde knows how many gifts, or does it stay locked away in some corner of his closet, another mistake he doesn’t want to look at? I don’t know. It’s eight months today, and I still don’t know.

What we do end up doing is dueling. Trading cards. An old game called Yu-Gi-Oh that he’s been into for eons, and that I enjoyed as a kid. I never played before him. I ‘built’ decks in the loosest of terms, with the childlike mindset of “Oh, this is pretty! Let’s put this with this!” and never had anyone to actually play with. Eons ago, a world ago, he tasked me with learning the game again. I did…and then the world exploded. And exploded. And exploded, and playing cards was the furthest thing from my mind.

After I was released, there was a time when playing cards was…all we ended up having. He shoved the fact that I hadn’t build a deck in my face during our breakup, and my rebuttle was to show up at the Citadel two days later with my skeleton of a deck, ready to duel. Since then, it’s been the only thing guaranteed safe to talk about. When he’s in a foul mood during a ride I bring up Yu-Gi-Oh. When he’s overly stressed and obviously needs a break from work, like he did today. When the dungeon is slow on a work night and I can seek him getting stressed. We duel.

It’s become such a lovely ritual as time has gone on. The banter has increased, to the point where there is quite a bit of sexual tension with our duels. There’s more joking, more teasing, more… comfort, and slowly, bit by bit, we have begun to feel like our old selves. He’s more approachable and less intimidating, and things like sitting in silence together have stopped feeling so uncomfortable. They are, in many ways, oddly comfortable. I know why he’s quiet some nights; I can still read his body like a book and can tell when he’s stressed, or sore, or in a mood.

That being said… the duels are all I get. I can’t touch him. I can’t snuggle him, or kneel at his feet, or go in for the big, long hugs that other can. I still am only permitted a hug goodbye most days, and I am touch starved. We spend so much damn time together that in certain ways it can be cruel smelling him, hearing him, being surrounded by him and yet being unable to reach him. There are times when he looks so damn fucking good… and I curse that he still pushes all of my fucking buttons. All of them. He always has, and I have no clue anymore what I push of him, if anything good.

Today, we dueled as always. He brought out his Blue Eyes deck, I my Lightsworn, and he destroyed me like he always does. He topped me through cards, because he could. Any progress I make he lets me do. I’m well aware of this. It’s always been that way with James. Any progress I’ve made, it’s because he’s let me. The banter, the dance, lasted until a friend mentioned that she played.

This friend is not a threat in any way. She doesn’t make me jealous, at all. She is safe, a beautiful soul who still calls James my person and is well aware at just how complicated she is. And the truth is, I love watching James duel. It’s fun sometimes when it’s not me. It wasn’t that they dueled… it’s that they interrupted the ritual that triggered some brain squirrels in my mind.

He doesn’t top me right now, in any way but the cards. That’s all I get. I don’t get swatts at BaGG. He won’t pull my hair, or bring me to my knees. I’ve forgotten, for the most part, what his lips feel like. I don’t get casual kisses or bites. He still won’t even just… poke me in the arm in a friendly way. Touch was so much a part of our love language that it was one of the main things taken away when we ended, and so I cling to the cards. I cling to the ritual of every Wednesday I get my dance with him. He will give me time, top me, and then go off to the others.

Today, that wasn’t the case. He played a few rounds with me, and then moved on to someone else. It was bound to happen. The nature of games is that you play other people. It’s a silly game; it’s fun. But… it’s our fun. It’s our thing, and for an hour I sat and watched while they played. I watched the bit of time I normally get with him tick away, and as it did I felt more and more invisible to him.

Emotions rarely have logic, and unfortunately for me my emotions are almost always written on my face. If anything, I’m sitting and writing this all out to get the kicked puppy expression I know I’m wearing to disappear. I am posessive of the few points of connection that I consider mine with him, logical or not, and I don’t think I realized how posessive until tonight. I felt.. inferior. Our friend is a better duelist than I am, with more experience. She was more of a challenge for him, and he and others commented that despite having months of practice now, she played better than I have. She lasted better.

There was a moment, hearing all of this, that I realized how easily replacable I could be. I wonder what value I still hold to him, this man that never seems to want to know his own heart. Over a silly game of cards that have been our safe-zone.

Maybe it’s the time of year; that Valentine’s Day is fast approaching, and I remain without a primary. Maybe it’s looking around and seeing other people valued by partners, and finding myself at war with my self-imposed loneliness. Maybe it’s that fear that… I’m just another background piece for him now.

None of this is logical. Time is gold to James, and more than anyone else I get his time.

Except, for when I don’t.

When the dance gets interrupted, the partners changed out, and you find yourself doubting if it was a dance at all.

It’s time for BaGG. Perhaps I will be brave and approach him for a different type of dance.

Yours, in routine

-Rene