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Taken from the book: Fire & Ice (ABDL BedTime Stories), here is a flame of the “fire”:
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The “Yes, Daddy” Game – Part One
Cynthia stood by the bathroom mirror, holding her cell phone to her ear and awaiting his reply to the pictures she had just texted him. Her reflection showed the result of a lot of hard personal work.
“Beautiful, Cinders,” he said. “Smooth as can be.”
“Thank you, Daddy,” she replied, running her fingers over her peach. “I was hoping you would like it.”
“I love it, BabyGirl,” he replied, sweetly. “And I can tell you’ve been going to the tanning salon a lot, too.”
She suddenly felt her current nakedness a bit more.
“Is your hand between your legs right now?” he asked, quite rhetorically.
“Yes, Daddy,” she replied in a tiny voice as she knew what he was going to say next.
“Tell Daddy what your peach feels like,” he said, lowering his tone.
The change in his timbre went straight to her tummy. His change to the Daddy Voice always automatically flipped that switch in her mind, too.
“It feels soft,” she said, grinning from ear to ear as she lowered her chin.
“Go on,” he encouraged with the same sweet, deep tone.
“It feels tender,” she continued. “It misses you … so bad.”
“I can’t wait to get my hands on you again. It’s just a few short weeks between now and when you’re in my arms,” he said, pausing for a moment to hear her steady breathing. “Are you rubbing yourself, Princess?”
“Yes, Daddy,” she whimpered. “I can’t help it.”
“I know, Baby,” he said. “Let’s take care of that right now. Put your phone on speaker and walk over to your dresser.”
She walked over to her dresser and set her phone on the top of it.
“Get out those tight tan Capri you like to wiggle your bottom in,” he instructed.
“What for?” she asked innocently, get the pants from the second drawer.
“Because you’re gonna go for a walk,” he explained. “And along the way, we’re gonna play the Yes, Daddy game.”
She instantly tingled from head to toe. The Yes, Daddy Game was intoxicating to play with her Daddy because of the way he played it.
The rules were simple:
[ul]
[li]Do whatever Daddy says to do – no matter what it is[/li]
[li]Always respond: “Yes, Daddy” – no matter who hears you[/li]
[/ul]
“Put on your white cami too,” he instructed. “No bra, No panties.”
“Yes, Daddy,” she responded softly, stepping into her tan capris and zipping them up.
“That’s what Daddy likes to hear,” he said. “Slip into the brown sandals I bought you at Myrtle Beach. Put your hair into to pigtails and add the pink bows you got at the mall.”
Yes, Daddy,” she whispered, quickly putting herself together as he instructed.
“Now, take a picture of yourself and send it to Daddy,” he said. “And head downstairs to the kitchen.”
“Yes, Daddy,” she said, clicking a picture of herself and texting it to him.
“That’s a good girl. Daddy’s so proud of his Princess,” he said as she headed downstairs to the kitchen. “Get out the bottle of Merlot from the wire basket on the kitchen table. Pour yourself a glass and drink it straight down.”
She got to the kitchen open the wine bottle, poured the glass and drank it.
“Did you drink it all?” he asked.
“Yes, Daddy,” she replied sweetly.
“That’s my little girl,” he said. “Drink another glass of it.”
She poured another glass and drank it.
“Now, pick up your Bluetooth from the counter edge, put it in your left ear, turn it on and put your phone in the back of your waistband.
“Yes, Daddy,” she responded, putting her Bluetooth in and tucking her cell phone in her pants at the small of her back.
“Now, grab your house key and head down the sidewalk to Luigi’s Bistro,” he said. “There’s a loaf of their Italian Bread you love so much waiting for you. I called them and paid for it all ready.”
“Yes, Daddy,” she whispered, tingling from the game and knowing that before long, the wine would have her head spinning.
She headed out the front door and down the street. Her senses were alive as was her imagination. Submissive always seemed like a silly word when she read it, but realizing how obedient she was to him, even though he was only on the phone, submissive suddenly seemed a lot more meaningful.
He could’ve said anything to her and she would’ve done it, without question or delay. And giving in to that kind of control was as real as it was fantasy.
“Are you on your way, Baby?” her Daddy’s voice asked through her ear piece.
“Yes, Daddy,” she answered with a briskness to her step.
“That’s a good girl,” he said softly. “You’re such a sweet little girl … getting dressed up for Daddy and obeying his directions. Do you love your Daddy?”
“Yes, Daddy,” she answered sweetly and quietly while lowering her chin as she walked past an older couple on the sidewalk.
“Are those pants beginning to ride up on you yet?” her Daddy asked, knowing what happened each time she wore them.
“Yes, Daddy,” she said, fidgeting.
“Is it riding up between your legs?” her Daddy asked.
“Yes, Daddy,” she whispered.
“I bet you wanna reach down there and yank down on those pants to keep them from rubbing up against your peach, don’t you?”
“Yes, Daddy,” she pouted, knowing the teasing he had started.
“But you can’t. You will always be a lady in public and modesty won’t let you do something like that,” her Daddy said with a definite taunt to his tone. “This is another reason why you should never wear pants, isn’t it?”
“Yes, Daddy,” she whispered turning the corner and heading down the next sidewalk.
“But wouldn’t it feel wonderful to rub yourself right now? Wouldn’t it feel glorious to complete that urge?” he asked with a dripping syrupy tone.
“Yes, Daddy,” she replied with a whimper as she picked up the pace of her strides in an effort to get to the Bistro more quickly.
“Walk!” he said sharply, hearing the increase in the rush of wind around her.
She slowed back down to her original pace.
“Yes, Daddy,” she replied, obedient to his instruction.
“I think when next I see you, it will be necessary to break you of this free will you keep clinging to,” he said with intent of getting her to commit to a promise. “Should Daddy break your free will when next he visits?”
“Yes, Daddy,” she replied with a suddenly rush of butterflies to her tummy.
“Then expect me to do just that to you in three weeks,” he said with a tone that made clear the satisfaction in his mind and the smile on his face. “My words will calm you and make you feel safe. And then, you’ll give up your will.”
She got to the Bistro and opened the front door. The bells attached to the door handle jingled as she walked in and headed to the take-out counter.
“Heya Cindy!” the guy behind the counter said as he handed her the long brown paper bag with the loaf of bread in it. “Here ya go! Enjoy!”
The look in the guy’s eye told her he knew more than she did.
“Thank you,” she said quickly, exiting the Bistro and heading back up the sidewalk.
“That’s a good girl,” her Daddy said. “Don’t ever forget to say thank you.”
She could feel the loaf of bread had just been baked for its warmth and softness through the paper bag.
“Are you holding the bread with both hands?” her Daddy asked.
“Yes, Daddy,” she said, keeping her strides even and slow for the riding that her tight pants had continued to do.
“I bet you can quite get your fingers all the way around it,” he said. “And I bet you’d have no idea what to do with it … if given a moment alone. Is that right?”
“Yes, Daddy,” she whispered, recognizing the phallic reference he was making.
The pants had rubbed up against her center enough times to begin to work her up. And she began to concentrate on controlling her breathing as a tiny bit of arousal had developed within her. But her Daddy picked up on it right away.
“Are you starting to get worked up, Princess?” he asked with his deep Daddy Voice.
“Yes, Daddy,” she pouted.
“Wouldn’t it feel wonderful to step into an alley, lift up your dress and play with yourself right now?”
“Yes, Daddy,” she said while shuddering erotically at the thought.
“But you can’t do that because you’re wearing pants,” he said with a tease. “I bet you won’t put pants on again any time soon. Is that right? No more pants?”
“Yes, Daddy,” she replied, biting her lower lip as the wine began to go to her head.
“Oh, what I’m going to do to you when I see you next,” her Daddy taunted. “You’ll be a mess by the time I’m done with you, but you’ll be happier than you have ever been before. Would you like Daddy to unravel you like that?”
“Yes, Daddy,” she slurred, aching for his next visit.
“Princess, Daddy doesn’t want you to play with yourself until my next visit,” her Daddy said. “Do you understand?”
“Yes, Daddy,” she said with a slight pout.
“Do you promise?” he asked.
“Yes, Daddy,” she promised with a bigger pout.
“Daddy’s going to help you with your urge right now,” he said with a tone to his voice that indicated to her she was about to toyed with. “Are you near Grumelli’s store?”
“Yes, Daddy,” she replied, softly.
“Take the alleyway behind it,” he instructed.
“Yes, Daddy,” she said, while walking into that alleyway.
“Go behind the trailer where they store the produce,” he instructed.
“Yes, Daddy,” she slurred, going behind the refrigerated trailer.
Her head was spinning in circles at this point.
“Leaning up against the trailer,” he instructed.
“Yes, Daddy,” she slurred, leaning up against the trailer.
“Now … wet your pants,” her Daddy said with a forceful tone.
“Yes, Daddy,” she slurred, as she relaxed her muscles and peed.
He could hear her stuttered breathing as the pee rushed out of her. It soaked the crotch of her pants and trailed down each of her legs.
“That’s a good girl,” her Daddy said with a syrupy tone. “Wet yourself like a little girl who couldn’t hold it. Don’t ever be desperate. Be wet. Be very wet.”
“Yes, Daddy,” she whispered almost inaudibly.
“That’s a good girl,” he said, teasingly. “Time to get moving again. Walk the rest of the alleyway to Turner Street. Turn left and head for home.”
“Yes, Daddy,” she slurred, standing up and walking to Turner Street.
Her movements were deliberate, but now slower. Her head was spinning and she wasn’t quite done peeing yet. And a she made her way onto her street, everyone she passed by took a look at her.
She was speaking the words Yes, Daddy, holding a loaf of bread in a brown paper bag with two hands and had soaked her tan pants through with pee. And the tan color of them had turned dark brown with the wetness.
Embarrassment raced through her as much as arousal at this point. If she hadn’t promised her Daddy otherwise, she would’ve run up into her house, pulled down those pants and rubbed out an orgasm at the memory of the trip she just took.
“Daddy has to go for now,” he said. “But Daddy is so proud of his wet little girl and I’ll see you soon. I love you, Cinders.”
“I love you too, Daddy. So much,” she replied.
“Make sure to put that bread on the kitchen counter right now. Okay?” her Daddy asked.
“Yes, Daddy,” she said, walking into the kitchen.
“Bye bye,” he said.
“Bye, Daddy,” she said, hanging up with tears in her eyes.
Setting the bread on the counter, she saw a note attached to the window above the sink which looked out into the back yard. When she saw what was written on the front of the note, her eyes grew wide.
She tore the note down and quickly opened it.
To Be Continued ...
--------------------------------
[attachment:50]BedTime 4 - Fire and Ice.jpg[/attachment]
----------------------------------------------------
The “Yes, Daddy” Game – Part One
Cynthia stood by the bathroom mirror, holding her cell phone to her ear and awaiting his reply to the pictures she had just texted him. Her reflection showed the result of a lot of hard personal work.
“Beautiful, Cinders,” he said. “Smooth as can be.”
“Thank you, Daddy,” she replied, running her fingers over her peach. “I was hoping you would like it.”
“I love it, BabyGirl,” he replied, sweetly. “And I can tell you’ve been going to the tanning salon a lot, too.”
She suddenly felt her current nakedness a bit more.
“Is your hand between your legs right now?” he asked, quite rhetorically.
“Yes, Daddy,” she replied in a tiny voice as she knew what he was going to say next.
“Tell Daddy what your peach feels like,” he said, lowering his tone.
The change in his timbre went straight to her tummy. His change to the Daddy Voice always automatically flipped that switch in her mind, too.
“It feels soft,” she said, grinning from ear to ear as she lowered her chin.
“Go on,” he encouraged with the same sweet, deep tone.
“It feels tender,” she continued. “It misses you … so bad.”
“I can’t wait to get my hands on you again. It’s just a few short weeks between now and when you’re in my arms,” he said, pausing for a moment to hear her steady breathing. “Are you rubbing yourself, Princess?”
“Yes, Daddy,” she whimpered. “I can’t help it.”
“I know, Baby,” he said. “Let’s take care of that right now. Put your phone on speaker and walk over to your dresser.”
She walked over to her dresser and set her phone on the top of it.
“Get out those tight tan Capri you like to wiggle your bottom in,” he instructed.
“What for?” she asked innocently, get the pants from the second drawer.
“Because you’re gonna go for a walk,” he explained. “And along the way, we’re gonna play the Yes, Daddy game.”
She instantly tingled from head to toe. The Yes, Daddy Game was intoxicating to play with her Daddy because of the way he played it.
The rules were simple:
[ul]
[li]Do whatever Daddy says to do – no matter what it is[/li]
[li]Always respond: “Yes, Daddy” – no matter who hears you[/li]
[/ul]
“Put on your white cami too,” he instructed. “No bra, No panties.”
“Yes, Daddy,” she responded softly, stepping into her tan capris and zipping them up.
“That’s what Daddy likes to hear,” he said. “Slip into the brown sandals I bought you at Myrtle Beach. Put your hair into to pigtails and add the pink bows you got at the mall.”
Yes, Daddy,” she whispered, quickly putting herself together as he instructed.
“Now, take a picture of yourself and send it to Daddy,” he said. “And head downstairs to the kitchen.”
“Yes, Daddy,” she said, clicking a picture of herself and texting it to him.
“That’s a good girl. Daddy’s so proud of his Princess,” he said as she headed downstairs to the kitchen. “Get out the bottle of Merlot from the wire basket on the kitchen table. Pour yourself a glass and drink it straight down.”
She got to the kitchen open the wine bottle, poured the glass and drank it.
“Did you drink it all?” he asked.
“Yes, Daddy,” she replied sweetly.
“That’s my little girl,” he said. “Drink another glass of it.”
She poured another glass and drank it.
“Now, pick up your Bluetooth from the counter edge, put it in your left ear, turn it on and put your phone in the back of your waistband.
“Yes, Daddy,” she responded, putting her Bluetooth in and tucking her cell phone in her pants at the small of her back.
“Now, grab your house key and head down the sidewalk to Luigi’s Bistro,” he said. “There’s a loaf of their Italian Bread you love so much waiting for you. I called them and paid for it all ready.”
“Yes, Daddy,” she whispered, tingling from the game and knowing that before long, the wine would have her head spinning.
She headed out the front door and down the street. Her senses were alive as was her imagination. Submissive always seemed like a silly word when she read it, but realizing how obedient she was to him, even though he was only on the phone, submissive suddenly seemed a lot more meaningful.
He could’ve said anything to her and she would’ve done it, without question or delay. And giving in to that kind of control was as real as it was fantasy.
“Are you on your way, Baby?” her Daddy’s voice asked through her ear piece.
“Yes, Daddy,” she answered with a briskness to her step.
“That’s a good girl,” he said softly. “You’re such a sweet little girl … getting dressed up for Daddy and obeying his directions. Do you love your Daddy?”
“Yes, Daddy,” she answered sweetly and quietly while lowering her chin as she walked past an older couple on the sidewalk.
“Are those pants beginning to ride up on you yet?” her Daddy asked, knowing what happened each time she wore them.
“Yes, Daddy,” she said, fidgeting.
“Is it riding up between your legs?” her Daddy asked.
“Yes, Daddy,” she whispered.
“I bet you wanna reach down there and yank down on those pants to keep them from rubbing up against your peach, don’t you?”
“Yes, Daddy,” she pouted, knowing the teasing he had started.
“But you can’t. You will always be a lady in public and modesty won’t let you do something like that,” her Daddy said with a definite taunt to his tone. “This is another reason why you should never wear pants, isn’t it?”
“Yes, Daddy,” she whispered turning the corner and heading down the next sidewalk.
“But wouldn’t it feel wonderful to rub yourself right now? Wouldn’t it feel glorious to complete that urge?” he asked with a dripping syrupy tone.
“Yes, Daddy,” she replied with a whimper as she picked up the pace of her strides in an effort to get to the Bistro more quickly.
“Walk!” he said sharply, hearing the increase in the rush of wind around her.
She slowed back down to her original pace.
“Yes, Daddy,” she replied, obedient to his instruction.
“I think when next I see you, it will be necessary to break you of this free will you keep clinging to,” he said with intent of getting her to commit to a promise. “Should Daddy break your free will when next he visits?”
“Yes, Daddy,” she replied with a suddenly rush of butterflies to her tummy.
“Then expect me to do just that to you in three weeks,” he said with a tone that made clear the satisfaction in his mind and the smile on his face. “My words will calm you and make you feel safe. And then, you’ll give up your will.”
She got to the Bistro and opened the front door. The bells attached to the door handle jingled as she walked in and headed to the take-out counter.
“Heya Cindy!” the guy behind the counter said as he handed her the long brown paper bag with the loaf of bread in it. “Here ya go! Enjoy!”
The look in the guy’s eye told her he knew more than she did.
“Thank you,” she said quickly, exiting the Bistro and heading back up the sidewalk.
“That’s a good girl,” her Daddy said. “Don’t ever forget to say thank you.”
She could feel the loaf of bread had just been baked for its warmth and softness through the paper bag.
“Are you holding the bread with both hands?” her Daddy asked.
“Yes, Daddy,” she said, keeping her strides even and slow for the riding that her tight pants had continued to do.
“I bet you can quite get your fingers all the way around it,” he said. “And I bet you’d have no idea what to do with it … if given a moment alone. Is that right?”
“Yes, Daddy,” she whispered, recognizing the phallic reference he was making.
The pants had rubbed up against her center enough times to begin to work her up. And she began to concentrate on controlling her breathing as a tiny bit of arousal had developed within her. But her Daddy picked up on it right away.
“Are you starting to get worked up, Princess?” he asked with his deep Daddy Voice.
“Yes, Daddy,” she pouted.
“Wouldn’t it feel wonderful to step into an alley, lift up your dress and play with yourself right now?”
“Yes, Daddy,” she said while shuddering erotically at the thought.
“But you can’t do that because you’re wearing pants,” he said with a tease. “I bet you won’t put pants on again any time soon. Is that right? No more pants?”
“Yes, Daddy,” she replied, biting her lower lip as the wine began to go to her head.
“Oh, what I’m going to do to you when I see you next,” her Daddy taunted. “You’ll be a mess by the time I’m done with you, but you’ll be happier than you have ever been before. Would you like Daddy to unravel you like that?”
“Yes, Daddy,” she slurred, aching for his next visit.
“Princess, Daddy doesn’t want you to play with yourself until my next visit,” her Daddy said. “Do you understand?”
“Yes, Daddy,” she said with a slight pout.
“Do you promise?” he asked.
“Yes, Daddy,” she promised with a bigger pout.
“Daddy’s going to help you with your urge right now,” he said with a tone to his voice that indicated to her she was about to toyed with. “Are you near Grumelli’s store?”
“Yes, Daddy,” she replied, softly.
“Take the alleyway behind it,” he instructed.
“Yes, Daddy,” she said, while walking into that alleyway.
“Go behind the trailer where they store the produce,” he instructed.
“Yes, Daddy,” she slurred, going behind the refrigerated trailer.
Her head was spinning in circles at this point.
“Leaning up against the trailer,” he instructed.
“Yes, Daddy,” she slurred, leaning up against the trailer.
“Now … wet your pants,” her Daddy said with a forceful tone.
“Yes, Daddy,” she slurred, as she relaxed her muscles and peed.
He could hear her stuttered breathing as the pee rushed out of her. It soaked the crotch of her pants and trailed down each of her legs.
“That’s a good girl,” her Daddy said with a syrupy tone. “Wet yourself like a little girl who couldn’t hold it. Don’t ever be desperate. Be wet. Be very wet.”
“Yes, Daddy,” she whispered almost inaudibly.
“That’s a good girl,” he said, teasingly. “Time to get moving again. Walk the rest of the alleyway to Turner Street. Turn left and head for home.”
“Yes, Daddy,” she slurred, standing up and walking to Turner Street.
Her movements were deliberate, but now slower. Her head was spinning and she wasn’t quite done peeing yet. And a she made her way onto her street, everyone she passed by took a look at her.
She was speaking the words Yes, Daddy, holding a loaf of bread in a brown paper bag with two hands and had soaked her tan pants through with pee. And the tan color of them had turned dark brown with the wetness.
Embarrassment raced through her as much as arousal at this point. If she hadn’t promised her Daddy otherwise, she would’ve run up into her house, pulled down those pants and rubbed out an orgasm at the memory of the trip she just took.
“Daddy has to go for now,” he said. “But Daddy is so proud of his wet little girl and I’ll see you soon. I love you, Cinders.”
“I love you too, Daddy. So much,” she replied.
“Make sure to put that bread on the kitchen counter right now. Okay?” her Daddy asked.
“Yes, Daddy,” she said, walking into the kitchen.
“Bye bye,” he said.
“Bye, Daddy,” she said, hanging up with tears in her eyes.
Setting the bread on the counter, she saw a note attached to the window above the sink which looked out into the back yard. When she saw what was written on the front of the note, her eyes grew wide.
She tore the note down and quickly opened it.
To Be Continued ...
--------------------------------
Making Fantasy Feel Real ... One Word and One Story At A Time
[attachment:50]BedTime 4 - Fire and Ice.jpg[/attachment]