Come here, Daddy

Hey Daddy…

I really tried being good tonight.

I tried distracting myself.

I tried being productive.

I tried pretending I wasn’t thinking about you.

Completely failed.

It’s quiet here

quiet always makes things worse 

because then my brain starts wandering… 

and somehow it always ends up back with you.

Your voice.

Your attention.

That Dominant look 

You’re such a distraction.

You know that?

I keep checking my phone 

Will your name magically pop up?

I keep wondering what you’re doing.

If you’re relaxing.

If you’re busy.

If you’re thinking about me too.

And before you get cocky…

Don’t.

Okay maybe a little.

But only a little.

I miss you tonight.

Extra.

Somebody’s stuck in my head.

So annoying

I miss being close to you.

I miss your attention on me.

I miss stealing moments with you where 

everything else gets quiet for a little while.

And honestly…

I want you here.

Not tomorrow.

Not next week.

Tonight.

I want one of those nights u show up 

suddenly my whole mood changes.

One of those nights where we forget 

everything else for a while.

Where I don’t have to think.

Where I can just exist with you.

Talk.

Laugh.

Be close.

Be your girl for a little while.

Maybe I’m being needy.

Actually no.

I am being needy.

Completely.

And maybe I’m sending this 

because I wanted your attention.

Maybe because I miss you.

Or maybe because I’m laying here 

wishing Daddy would stop making me miss him

You’ve officially ruined my night.

Now fix it.

Call me.

Or maybe…

Instead of calling me…

Get in your car.

Drive over here.

Come steal a few hours away 

from everything with me.

Because I miss you.

And tonight feels like one of those nights

I really don’t want to fall asleep 

without seeing you.

So…

Come here, Daddy.

(Based on a real life voice note late at night)

Afterglow to Absolute Ache

We parted without ceremony

No Grand Goodbye,

Just a last look that 

said this isn’t over,

And a kiss that lingered 

longer than it should have.

You disappeared into daylight,

into obligations, into walls 

that weren’t mine to cross.

Hotel lobby had a note

"Loud room all night, keep it low"

I ignored, the pleasure 

Overshadowed my thoughts

It felt like a compliment

I walked the city alone,

streets loud, alive, careless—

but every corner carried echos from last night.

I could feel my balls empty and drained

You texted me in fragments—

little sparks tossed into the afternoon.

Which was fun.

Still feeling the night.
Can’t stop thinking 

about all the Chaos.

Sexual tension building, 

I’m trying to behave.

You told me about family filling your space,

voices too close, walls too thin,

desire folded neatly and locked away.

But want doesn’t disappear—

it only sharpens when denied.

I answered slowly, deliberately.

Not to tease—to remind.

That what I’d claimed 

didn’t vanish with distance.

That even apart, 

you still carried me

between breaths,

between thoughts,

between your thighs.

when you shifted and sighed.

Daddy knows

I explored the city by day,

but returned to the room by night—

that borrowed space that still smelled faintly of us.

The bed remembered.

The sheets held shape.

Even the silence felt charged,

as if waiting for permission to break.

We didn’t meet again that night.

We didn’t touch.

We didn’t finish

what our bodies begged for.

And somehow, that restraint—

that ache stretched thin and humming—

made everything

darker,

deeper,

more inevitable.

She wrote before sleep:

Tonight will be hard.

I replied:

No worries.

Because desire like ours

doesn’t fade when starved—

it ferments.

It grows teeth.

It waits.

And when we collide again,

the city won’t save us.

New Day in Québec

The day belonged to wandering.

Old streets, stone and history,

French words curling through the air

like flirtation you don’t stop.

I moved through Québec 

like a bad thought—

eyes catching on bare legs,

soft dresses, careless cleavage,

sunlit temptation everywhere.

Beautiful women everywhere,

laughing, swaying, unaware

they were feeding a hunger

already sharpened by you.

I behaved. Mostly.

ohh no, two pretty girls

did flirt with me in the streets

They were in the funicular

They wanted pictures, i helped.

pretty girls but they had very sexy poses

We sparked a good chat and so on

They were just wearing a thong

under their see through thin dresses

Seamless butt and cracks shaped by the dress

They didn't care when i peaked

At their braless sweaty cleavage

They were spreading their legs because

the hot weather was making their thighs wet

I would have peeled their panties

In a flash and sniffed them wet pussies

And, made them follow me into an alley

Daddy Dom was dirty dreaming

Nothing much was about to happen

but they got me very tempted.

By afternoon, the ache returned—

low, steady, familiar.

The kind that hums under the skin

and refuses to be ignored.

My filthy mind

Definitely wanna fuck tonight

Then my phone vibrated.

My slut's name. Perfect timing.

Are you gonna come tonight Daddy?

I smiled. I knew that tone.

The sweetness hiding heat.

The question already soaked in want.

Maybe, I answered.

If you’re a good girl tonight.

The pause before your reply

said everything.

You weren’t behaving.

You were imagining.

When I reached the hotel,

dusk settling in, bags half packed.

The room already preparing to forget me,

your message arrived like a summons.

Come to my place at Ten, Daddy.

She never booty calls, Daddy was special

Simple. Obedient. Too obedient.

I gave instructions anyway—

soft, deliberate, unmistakable.

What to wear - A mini skirt & thong

How to wait - Kneeling down

How to greet me - With Drinks

You said YES

But brats always say yes

right before they test you.

By ten, I was dressed in full black and intention,

the city humming beneath the tires

as the car carried me back toward you.

Every red light stretched.

Every turn tightened the coil.

I didn’t know what waited behind your door—

obedience or defiance,

submission or surprise—

only that whatever version of you appeared,

I would handle it.

Because control isn’t about certainty.

It’s about knowing

that when the door opens,

everything that follows

belongs to me.

Just belongs to only Daddy!

Forbidden Dawn & Unholy Tremors

Sunlight crept through the blinds, warm and slow,

Touching her skin, making her body glow.

Under the hotel sheet, she was mine, pressed,

Her heat from last night refusing to rest.

I felt myself hard, morning wood insistent,
Grinding against her ass, hips moving persistent.

"mmmm Daddyyyyyy"

Her soft whimpers, sleepy moans, called me near,
This bed our kingdom, our lust crystal clear.

"mmmm my dirty little slut. Good Morning"

I kissed her back, nipped her neck, hands roaming free,
Every curve, every fold, belonged to me.
I turned her to me, tongues collided, raw and slick,
A French kiss that made her moan, made me quick.

Sliding her to her side, I took my place on the right,
Fingers exploring, teasing her wet delight.
Her juices slicked my fingers, deep inside,
Curling, pressing, making her ride the tide.

Her moans grew louder, body trembling in need,
A little squirt escaped — I watched, took the lead.
“Fuck me, Daddy,” she begged, fire in her tone,
Forbidden words that made me claim her as my own.

I lifted her, pressed deep, thick cock driving hard,
Pounding her like only Daddy can guard.
Her cries, her screams, filthy pleasure unbound,
Every thrust reminded me —she’s mine, she’s my playground.

Her nails dug into me, hands clutching my skin, 

Gripping my cock, she said

“Don't pull out! Noooo”

“Cum inside me, Daddy”

“Breed me Daddy, Please”

I emptied myself deep, shivering, filling her core,
Feeling her shudder, wanting more and more.

We collapsed tangled, sweat and giggles combined,
The sun climbing higher, our bodies perfectly aligned.

She was late for the morning, got up the bed
Cum Dripping, hips swaying, limping a little
I lay naked, empty, craving my slut, feeling the tilt.

Our early morning fire, raw, forbidden, alive, burning
In this Montreal hotel, we didn’t just touch—we thrived.

She’s my Little Brat, Dirty Slut, A Secret Sin,
This forbidden morning, I claimed her again.

Brunch and work would pull her away,
But Daddy knew, she would come back for a reclaim.

And,
It was just little over 12 hours, since i met her

Room 805: Two Sinners & Thousand Moans

The streets still hummed with midnight breath,

while her body trembled at each step.

Toy buzzing deep, her legs unsteady,

dirty kisses on corners — reckless, messy, heavy.

A forbidden affair in a foreign night,
two strangers burning in the city lights.
I pulled her close, her moans half-bitten,
hoping no passerby caught us smitten.

The hotel door sighed — 805.
A room where desire would come alive.
Small, cozy, dark at 2 a.m.,
walls ready to hold our sin within them.

We crashed onto the bed with feral heat,
her denim tugged down, her body laid sweet.
Black satin thong, lace bra still tight,
the toy humming inside — dripping delight.

She spread for me, shameless, obscene,
legs glistening, wet, satin sheen.
Her gusset stained creamy, white with her lust,
I leaned down, inhaled her scent, raw and just.

I kissed her lips, then slid my tongue,
made her taste herself where the mess had clung.
Her eyes screamed silent, “Fuck me, Daddy—”
but I withheld, I made her wait, made her needy.

From the bag, a new sin gleamed,
a thick long nude dildo, vibrating, mean.
Lubed, alive, I shoved it deep,
her thong strapped tight, its prison to keep.

few minutes into fucking.....

The bed shook as she lost her mind,
her body convulsing, her voice unrefined.
Moans turned screams, then screams to cries,
while passion poured between her thighs.

I kissed her skin, I owned her breath,
her cunt was quaking itself to death.
Neighbors could hear, at 3 a.m.,
her voice a hymn, a primal anthem.

Orgasm after orgasm, wave on wave,
her slutty body — the gift I enslaved.
Eyes rolled back, trembling, drained,
a slut undone, her soul unchained.

I held her after, sweat still raw,
her body twitching, her pussy sore.
I wanted more, to pound her through dawn,
but she was wrecked, used, fully withdrawn.

So I saved my hunger, my cock’s true claim,
for the morning light — to start again.
Because she is mine, slutty, divine,
and only Daddy could break her spine.

Finally, the toys pulled free,
black lace gone, thong released.
Clothes in a pile on the hotel floor,
our bodies bare, craving more.

Two naked skins under one thick sheet,
sweat still fresh, her heartbeat beneath.
My hard cock pressed against her spine,
her butt crack cradling the length of mine.

I wrapped her up, my arm on her waist,
our scents mingled, a sinful taste.
She whimpered softly, half-asleep,
wrecked and wrecking, mine to keep.

The city’s noise faded, our breathing slow,
moonlight cut lines across her glow.
We drifted down, tangled, spent,
the night’s destruction now silent, spent.

A few hours’ sleep before morning light,
her body still twitching from the night.
Because in 805, under sheets that reeked of sin,
we slept as strangers who’d already been within.

Cuddled tight,
she turns, whispers in the dark—
a vow no saint would dare to bless:
“Daddy… wake me whenever you want.
Wake me to fuck me. I’m yours.”

And with that promise,
I close my eyes,
knowing the night isn’t finished—
it’s only waiting for dawn
to demand more sin.

Ruined in the Rhythm

Almost midnight,

Saturday spilling into sin,

and there she is—

stepping out of a taxi,

jeans hugging her curves,

black bodysuit painted 

tight against her skin.

I know what’s hidden beneath:

lace bra, satin thong i got her,

and inside her—

my secret hum,

my toy, my control.

The night air is cold,
but the heat between us
ignites the moment she smiles.
I pull her close,
kiss her mouth,
her lips already wet with promise.
She laughs softly,
“Daddy…”
and just like that,
my night is set on fire.

We duck into the taco shop,
the neon buzzing above us,
the world spinning slower
while we order plates of midnight hunger.

Tacos, Carnitas, Salsa, Horchata
hot sauce dripping down fingers.
But the real spice
is in the way her thigh brushes mine,
dirty talk and forbidden conversations

how her hand slides to my knee,
her lips curling as she whispers,
“Wait until later.”

We eat, we flirt,
we touch under the table,
her body pressed close,
my hand teasing the waistband of her jeans,
knowing she’s already soaked.
Her laughter is reckless,
her eyes a dare,
her mouth a sin.
Every bite of food
is a countdown
to the chaos we’re walking toward.

Outside again—

midnight wind cutting sharp,
but her body is a furnace.
She presses into me,
a hug too tight to be innocent,
pheromones wrapping around my senses.

Her whisper curls against my ear:
“It’s your turn, Daddy.”
And into my palm
she slips the remote.

Ten minutes to the club.
Ten minutes of her body jerking,
limping, giggling in gasps,
moaning into the dark.

Every press of my thumb
sends her stumbling into me,
her breath ragged,
her eyes glazed with ache.
Strangers walk past us,
but we are invisible,
just another couple in the city night—
if only they knew
she was breaking with every step.

By the time the music thumps

from the club’s glowing entrance,
she’s trembling, clutching me,
her lips desperate against mine.
We wait in line,
her body pressed tight,
her perfume mixing with sweat and lust.

I flick the toy to full throttle—
and she shatters.
A muffled cry,
her face buried against my chest,
her arms locking around me.

Not the cold—no,
this trembling is heat, pleasure,
her first orgasm of Sunday,
midnight’s dirty gift.
She breathes me in,
moans against my neck,
a shaking slut waiting
for the doors to open,
for the night to swallow us whole.

We shove through the door

and the room swallows us—

black bodies, neon flashes, 

bass that thumps like a pulse in the planet.

Crowded, warm, sticky with sweat and want,

lights slicing the dark into electric kisses.

I grab two gin & tonics, hand one to her, 

watch her take it like a dare.

Then we move—closer, 

deeper—into the crush.

She starts to dance for me first: 

slow, dangerous, hips working the rhythm,

a tease that says she’s mine and she knows it.

Her bodysuit clings, her jeans gone, 

the satin thong a secret under skin;

she grinds, she bends, 

she presses that wet cunt into me,

riding my bulge through fabric 

like a private confession.

Hands roam—mine claim everywhere: 

hips, the dip of her waist, 

firming the meat of her ass,

palming breast, 

thumbs circling nipples over lace, 

neck kissed and marked.

Every squeeze says the same thing: 

she’s mine tonight.

Men glance—eyes sliding 

fast like hungry knives—

but when she kisses me hard, 

when she presses her mouth to mine,

the message is clear: she belongs to me.

Their looks scramble away like light.

A shadow of a man she knows

her casual fuck buddy from the past

stands a beat away, watching.

Jealousy writes itself across his face; 

his jaw clenches.

He doesn’t step forward.

He better not.

 

He only stares as 

I tighten my grip on her waist,

as I press her back to me and 

let the toy inside her scream under my thumb.

unspoken words of my power move is

“You see her. She is mine.” 

“She always was mine tonight.”

For an hour the club becomes our altar.

I ride the beat on her hips with my hands, 

and my thumb rides the remote.

Full throttle—no mercy

electric pulses smashing her,

each press sending her into 

white flashes of pleasure 

that she can’t hide.

She is loud, filthy, beautiful—

five, eight, maybe more 

orgasms folding into each other,

her legs trembling, 

her throat raw from calling my name.

“Daddy—oh Daddy—please —” 

she pants into my neck.

I laugh low, cruel, soft. 

“Good girl. Keep dancing for me.”

“Daddy's dirty little slut.”, i say

She grinds harder, 

as i press her boobs like stress balls

a show of devotion and defiance—

for him, for them, 

for every eye that thinks it has a right.

When the music swells 

I pull her close and whisper,

“Ready to go, baby?”

Her eyes go glassy with want. 

“Let’s go,” she breathes, 

but near my ear she begs,

“Take me to your hotel.”

I blink—“My hotel?”

She nods hard, 

cheeks flushed, 

breath hot, 

voice sure:

“Yes. Take me there.”

“Fuck me. Own me. Destroy me.”

“PLEASE DADDY...”

Her voice is a command I accept. 

I press the remote to the edge

full animal—the toy inside her answers 

like a beast, 

and she jerks, limps, 

laughs, moans.

I kiss her, hard, 

claim her mouth, 

While he watches us

and then I put the toy on 

fucking full throttle.

“Walk with me,” I tell her, 

fingers laced in the small 

of her back, guiding.

She stumbles 

but she wants it—

every step is a surrender 

and a promise.

Her legs quake, 

her breath shudders; 

she takes each block 

like penance, like worship.

People part around us; 

the city becomes a corridor to a 

bed that will remember our names.

She keeps whispering between moans:

“Daddy, I can’t—”

“You want Daddy or not” I say,

“Yes Yes Yes” she says,

voice low as thunder.

She laughs, a broken little thing, 

and grips me like a lifeline.

We move out into the Montreal night, 

neon bleeding above us,

and her hips sway with every press of the remote

an open secret for the street.

She is my 

messy, 

loud, 

needy 

property

limping, 

whispering, 

aching

and I am more than ready to 

make sure she remains so.

yes we are about to

MAKE

MORE 

FORBIDDEN

MIDNIGHT 

MONTREAL 

MISTAKES

She Invites, I Devour

The walk after drinks was short—

five minutes, maybe ten—

but every step stretched forever.

Her body trembled beside me,

toy vibration as per my thumb.

I was fucking her already,

Mind and her needy little pussy

Each press sent her giggling, gasping,

“Daddy—Oh my fucking God,”

her knees buckling,

her breath catching,

mini orgasms spilling from her like secrets.

Yes, we are a SINFUL secret.

She could barely walk straight,

a slutty stumble in shoes,

and I loved watching her break 

for me in public shadows.

We reached her building.
She pulled me into the elevator,
third floor lit like destiny.
The doors closed,
and the ache detonated.
Hands grabbing,
Mouths colliding,
a kiss that was weeks overdue.

Hungry, violent,
wet with pent-up lust.
Her nails dug my back,
my hands grabbed her ass,
our moans echoing in the mirrored box.

Her whisper, dripping sin:
“Daddy… Come with me.”
(She did forgot i was a stranger)

At her door, it unlock

she didn’t knock, didn’t pause—

just pulled me inside,

and the lock clicked shut behind us.

we Kissed again

I grabbed her throat from behind,

a firm choke,

her body pinned to mine.

My other hand slid inside her dress,

squeezing her tits,

feeling lace dig into my palm.

My growl at her ear:

“Now Daddy’s in control.”

She moved slow to the kitchen,
and with a brat’s smirk
she bent over the counter.
Looked back at me—
hair falling wild,
eyes daring,
pussy dripping.

“Fuck me, Daddy,
I’m all yours.”

Not yet.
I lifted her dress,

Saw the vibrating bullet destroying her clit.

Hand landing heavy on her ass.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five.
Sharp smacks,
her body jolting,
her moans splitting the air.
Every bratty text she sent me—
paid for in red, stinging skin.
She whimpered,
but she knew it was earned.

I lifted her onto the counter,

turned her 180 like my fucktoy,

spread her open on marble.

The toy slid out—

soaked, messy, humming with her ache.

Her pussy glistened,

dripping down the stone,

begging for my mouth.

I sat on the bar stool,

eyes locked on her slutty face.

“Open wide, Baby girl"

"Spread is nice, Honey"

"Daddy’s hungry.”

My tongue devoured her.
Long strokes, fast flicks,
every inch of her clit worshipped,
my mouth drowning in her taste.
Her scream hit the kitchen walls,
orgasms crashing over her body
like waves breaking.

“Daddy—Fuck, Daddy—I can’t—
I’m Cumming...”

Her thighs shook,
her pussy flooded,
and I just kept eating.
juicy Ten minutes,
a storm of tongue and lips,
drinking every drop.

When she collapsed back,
I shoved two fingers inside,
then deeper,
curling, shaking,
stretching her open
while she wailed beneath me.
I stared at her face—
a slut unravelling—
as I finger-fucked her raw.
Her body convulsed,
her back arched,
and then—
the gush.

She squirted, screaming,
liquid spilling everywhere,
dripping off the counter,
wetting the floor.

I kept pumping,
vigorous, merciless,
her moans breaking into cries,
her orgasm tearing her apart
until she went limp,
a soaked, used mess.

She lay spread out,
panting, ruined,
her pussy still twitching.
My fingers glistened with her cum.
Her eyes half-closed,
cheeks flushed,
hair plastered to her face.
She looked at me,
a grin curling,
a brat still hiding somewhere inside.

“Prosecco, Daddy?”

I kissed 

Carried her

Said Yes

Because, I knew

The night was just beginning.