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Born in Her Fantasies, Built with His Hands

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  • Born in Her Fantasies, Built with His Hands

    From the book:

    10 More Things to Do With Your BabyGirl On A Saturday Night

    here’s the preview:

    ———————————————————-

    She sat on his knee, as naked as the day she was born. In many ways, it felt like every day with him renewed the heart that beat within her chest and she was affected with a love and a life which felt newborn. In her mind, it was the perfect blend of fantasy and reality.

    Being a BabyGirl was her greatest fantasy. But being his BabyGirl was what was so great about her reality. Whether she was naked or dressed to the “9”s, Big or little in thought, word and deed – she knew she would always be his BabyGirl.

    He gently rubbed his hand up and down her back as he read over what she had written on the piece of construction paper in his hand. Easing back into the reclining chair, the smile on his face made her feel good that what he was reading he was also envisioning.

    She looked back at the corner of living room where she had been made to kneel, but it wasn’t for the sake of punishment that he put her there. It was for the sake of focus. She recalled her time in that corner, from just a few minutes prior.

    In her left hand, he had placed ten crayons, each of a different color. In her right hand, he placed a white piece of construction paper and gave her simply instructions as to what she was to write.

    “I want another list of ten, BabyGirl,” he said with a deep timbre that shot through her senses as she closed her eyes. “Would you like to make me another list of ten?”

    “Yes, Daddy,” she whispered in a breathy tone as he wrapped his arms around her from behind.

    “Your heart has many fantasies, doesn’t it?” he whispered in her ear.

    “Yes, Daddy?” she replied, as she tightened her lips to control her breathing.

    “I want you to write them down,” he instructed. “And give each its own color.”

    “Yes, Daddy,” she replied.

    “Do you remember the first list of ten?” he asked, taking her right ear lobe between his teeth.

    “Yes, Daddy,” she said, with short steady breaths.

    “Tell me the first list of ten,” he instructed as his left hand trailed up her tummy, through her cleavage and onto the front of her neck as he pinned her back against his chest.

    She dropped the crayons and paper at his sudden aggression, nibbling on her bottom lip as his right traveled south between her legs.

    “Tell Daddy the first list of ten,” he whispered in her ears.

    “Humiliation …… embarrassment ……discipline …… punishment,” she began slowly as she reached up behind his head and drug her fingernails across the back of his scalp. “Pain …… denial …… teasing …… arousal ……”

    Her thoughts had drawn her back to the events of last Saturday Night.

    “The Backdoor …. and aftercare,” she said, completing the first list of ten as her back arched up at his wandering fingers.

    “What night is tonight, BabyGirl?” he whispered with a deep tone.

    “Saturday Night, Daddy,” she said in a breathy tone.

    “Would you like to make Daddy a new list of ten?” he asked rhetorically.

    “Yes, Daddy,” she answered any way.

    “Begin with the color red. Follow the rainbow,” he instructed as he placed two fingers at the bottom of her labia, tracing them along her lips and cupping her peach afterwards. “And end with the color pink.”

    “Yes, Daddy,” she answered before he placed her pacifier in her mouth.

    She bit down on the nipple and took it in.

    “You’re a very good girl. And Daddy is very proud of you,” he whispered, patting her between her legs before standing up behind her. “And Daddy will be sitting across the room, waiting for you to crawl over to him with your new list of ten.”



    Her mind returned to the moment and to her Daddy’s reactions as he read the list she created. Hearing him restate the list sent shivers up and down her spine.

    But it was when, he took her chin in his hand and raised her eyes to meet the gaze of his own that she knew he understood why she had fantasies … because reality was where she went to survive. Fantasy was where she went to live.

    He loved her madly and deeply. There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for her. And it wasn’t the punishments her fantasies seemed to have that thrilled him, but rather the places those punishments would take her in her thoughts, in her mind, and the head space she remained within during. And it would be his thrill to take her there.

    All her life, she had these fantasies and she kept them to herself, hoping one day to find someone who could complete the desires of her heart she had always secretly and richly craved.

    She chose him. No one else. He didn’t take that lightly, nor did he take for granted that the sub chooses the dom always.

    He walked her back the hallway to the bedroom, easing her down on her tummy on the bed.

    “I’m going to state the fantasy and I want you to tell me why,” he said, removing the pacifier from her mouth and placing it next to her on the bed.

    “Yes, Daddy,” she said, waiting patiently for him to read the first fantasy.

    There was a bit of self-satisfying humiliation she felt in being forced to reveal the depths of the secrets of her heart. But she knew that short and little were her greatest commodities just then and in the back of her mind she could hear her Daddy’s words from so many wonderful encounters before:

    “You only ever need speak when Daddy asks you a question, at which point your answers are short … and little. Other than that, the only words you need to commit to your soul and lips are Yes, Daddy.”

    “The Toy and the Stranger’s View?” he questioned as he took out the clothing he would dress her in from the closet.

    “I want to be forced to cum for you in front of a total stranger,” she said, silencing herself at the sound of her confession.

    “Breath Taken Away,” he read from the paper as he sat her up and slid her arms into a white lacy bra and then a red tank top.

    She was a pert little thing. And he took notice and he helped her arms into her tightest white button down shirt.

    “Breathless,” she said softly. “Without any ability to keep up with what is going on and what is happening to me. Not even being given the time t catch my breath.”

    “Gagged for Broken Skin,” he read from the paper before buttoning the shirt up.

    “I wanna be spanked so hard I bleed and I wanna scream into a ball gag and you’re splitting me open,” she answered and then began nibbling on her bottom lip.

    “I like the sounds of that one, especially,” he admitted before reading the next fantasy. “A Collar? Really? No explanation needed. I was hoping you would write that one down.”

    He opened the nightstand drawer by the side of the bed and picked up the velvet choker inside it. He brought it around her neck, fastening it ant the back and drawing it as tightly as possible. She touched the collar and looked across the room at the mirror above the dresser to see the word Princess written across her throat in pink cursive letters. He attached a simple pink string to the collar and from the end of that string dangled her pacifier which he stored away neatly in her cleavage.

    He placed the paper next to her on the bed, put his arms behind her back and eased her down onto the mattress.

    “Going down on Daddy?” he asked, reading the next fantasy from the paper as he took out a simple leather strap from the nightstand drawer and the vibrating egg she had seen at the adult shoppe that stopped at last Saturday night.

    She raised her head up, trying to see what else might be in this nightstand drawer she was aware of and also vowing to herself that she would be looking through all the drawers from now on to see what other surprises were there.

    He wrapped the leather strap around her waist, resting it snugly against her hip bones and buckling it into place in the front. And from directly below her navel on the strap, he attached a vibrating egg, with another simple string that enable him to place it against her labia.

    She shuddered at what would happen to her when he turned it on. If it was anything like the effect her pink toy had on her last time, tonight would certainly make her twitch at the right moment in the right places and for all the right reasons.

    Then he lifted her bottom, slid her diaper underneath her and lowered her back down onto it. And he fastened her into that diaper just as tightly as he had done to her in the bowling alley bathroom a week ago. She remembered well how she nearly exploded with the vibrations. It seemed those times would be good again.

    A simple black wrap-around skirt was her only cover for the padded bottom she now sported and he led her to the bathroom where she began working on her make-up first and then her hair.

    “Nipple torture. You want nipple torture?” he asked, surprised by that fantasy entry.

    “Yes, Daddy,” she answered, tending to her eyes. “Going numb and then coming back from it.”

    “Broken will,” he read from the paper.

    “Mind fucking me into submission to you,” she admitted.

    “An enema,” he read as she lowered her chin.

    “Yes,” she said quickly, hoping he wouldn’t want to know any more about her desires for that one.

    “The Whispered Differences between little and Big,” he read with raised eyebrows.

    “And all the emotions that go with each,” she added.

    “And finally …,” he said, while reading the last fantasy on the paper. “Trapped Headspace.”

    “Yes, Daddy,” she relied, making her last touch-ups to her hair as she turned to him, completed and ready to go.

    He stepped forward and she walked into his arms, taking in his embrace and the feeling of safety that he gave her.

    “BabyGirl, we’re going to do all of these fantasies, adding one at a time to your night. By the end, you’ll be a happy mess, inside and out,” he said. “One night of many more to come. Born in your fantasies and built with my hands.”

    “I like the sounds of that, Daddy,” she said with a smile.

    “Let’s go,” he said as they headed for the door.

    It was early Saturday Night. The sky was truly the limit for what she would experience, capped only be how far she was willing to reach for what she wanted the most.

    ———————————————–

    zorroabdaddy.com
    Making Fantasy Feel Real ... One Word At A Time

  • #2
    OOOOOOOH I like, i hope we get to see more of this.

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