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She goes back to the box, and I watch with lurid, breathless fascination as she dons what looks like a harness across her pelvis. When I see what it’s for, I hold my breath. She affixes a wicked looking phallus and orders me on my knees. I’m so wet she doesn’t need any lube as she slides it in. She pinches my clit hard as she fucks me. I scream into the mattress, bucking wildly against her thrusting hips.
Later as we embrace in bed, I tell Tandy I’ve experienced more personal growth in my short time with her than I have in the past decade. The taste of her lingers on my tongue along with the exhilaration that I’m learning to please her as she’s pleased me.
I feel safe. I feel complete. I’m already healing thanks to my beautiful Daddy.
Chapter ten
TANDY
The garden center on Westover Lane not only hires Bliss but offers her a position as the manager of their floral design department. It seems that Maxine, her former boss, had been taking credit for Bliss’ work, but the driver of the hospital delivery van who’d gotten to know Bliss told the head of the hospital auxiliary who had some kind of connection to the owner of the garden center. It’s funny how things work.
The pay is more than she ever could have imagined – enough to catch up her bills and rent a cute one-bedroom apartment in a building within walking distance of my shop. With so many late payments, Bliss had to put down a hefty security deposit which I gave her as a gift despite her protestations. The apartment building is much safer than the neighborhood she’s called home and as I keep reminding her, keeping her safe is part of Daddy’s job.
Part of me was tempted to ask her to move in, but I didn’t think she would have said yes which is another reason I’m falling in love with her. There’s a balance to being a dominant that’s especially important for Daddies. The tendency to swoop in and shield and save is strong, but it doesn’t always allow for the kind of personal growth that’s important for a sub.
Bliss seems to sense this. She says that the one thing she’d not expected from living as my submissive was how much more independent she’d become in her daily life. She says she feels grounded now.
A week after moving in she looked up the price of the Hummel figuring I noticed the first time I visited her. Last night it sold for four thousand dollars on eBay.
“We should celebrate,” she says. “My treat this time.” When I start to object, she walks over and straddles me where I’m sitting behind my desk. “Please, Daddy?”
It’s an offer a saint couldn’t refuse. I ask her where she’d like to go. She thinks about this. “How about that little Italian place across town, the one with the crazy good wine list.”
“It’s a date.” I pull her face to mine and give her a kiss.
“There’s something else I’d like to do, too, Tandy, but if I tell you, you’ll think I was crazy.”
“Try me.”
She gets off my lap and moves to stand by a collage of pictures on the wall, all from my days as a domme. “I’d like to go somewhere like that.”
I pivot my chair around. “Baby girl, as much as Daddy loves you, she’s not stepping foot in Club Cross again. Too many bad memories.”
“I’m not asking you to go to Club Cross. Iwouldn’task you to go to Club Cross. But maybe somewhere else.” She takes my hands in hers. “It was a big part of your life. If you’d really put it in your past, you wouldn’t have these photos up here every day to remind you but they’re at work, they’re at your apartment…”
I’d never really thought about it, but Bliss is right. I have kept the photos and when I look at them, sometimes I do feel wistful for the energy of the club scene with its diversity and acceptance.
I tell her this, but also my misgivings. “That life led to the end of my last relationship. I don’t want to risk that happening again.”
“You were with a different person, Tandy. I’m not Celeste. I don’t want you to give up a part of yourself for me. Whoever told you that you had to choose between being a domme and a Daddy?”
Another insightful comment. I remember walking out of my therapist’s office after she told me she thought I was more of a Daddy than a domme. But why not both? We could have explored that, but I thought what she’d said was all I needed to hear. Or maybe I didn’t want to hear more. Either way, I never booked another appointment.
But I know going back would be different. I won’t scene with anyone else. I don’t want to. I only want to play with one person and she’s standing in front of me. When I tell her this, she puts her arms around me and gives me a hug.
“I wouldn’t stop you from playing with anyone else, but it makes me happy that you just want to play with me.”
“I always want to play with you, baby.” I move my hand under her skirt, and she gasps.
“Daddy, we’re on lunch break. You’ve got clients downstairs. I’ve got to get back to the shop…”
“Yeah. That gives me ten minutes to get you off and you’re not allowed to scream, understand? Do you think you can come quietly for Daddy?”
I know I’m being a little sadistic by asking this. Bliss’ orgasms have gotten stronger and stronger. The quiet, shy woman I first took to bed now unabashedly expresses her passion with enthusiastic vocalizations.
“Daddy, I don’t think…” she begins as I lift her up onto my desk, but I’m not listening.
“Quiet, little girl. You got that?” Then I’m between her legs, licking her shaved pussy through the crotch of her panties, enjoying the quiet little whimpers that become stifled moans as I move the fabric aside and slide my tongue into her sweet wetness of her as I massage her clit with the pad of my thumb. She’s mewling like a kitten, lifting her hips to my mouth. Her legs go over my shoulders. The heels of her Keds dig into my back. I take hold of her ass, pulling her to me as I capture her clit, sucking on it in that way that sends her over the top. She comes but doesn’t scream, her quiet moans rising and falling with the waves of pleasure I’m giving her.
