Diary of a Daddy's girl

I'm a collared submissive, daddy's girl, writer, slut, kinky lil thing, knitter, music lover, yogini, poet, dreamer, creator, human, lover, pea, angel, and genuinely naughty girl.

I'm always looking for a new friends and playfriends on Tumblr and in the Seattle area. Don't be shy -- say hi!

Please read my full disclaimer. If you are under 18, I encourage you to speak with your parents about sex (you may be surprised!) or visit Scarleteen.

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45 posts tagged story time

Bed Time Story

Once upon a time there was a naughty little princess named Casey. Casey was known through out the land for breaking the hearts of all the boys and girls in the land. She would flip her hair, giggle, wiggle her bum, and all the boys and girls would come running. 

But Casey was a naughty little princess. So she would giggle, and she would wiggle and all the boys and girls would fall right in love. Then Casey would turn to the next boy or girl and giggle and wiggle till they fell in love too. No matter how hard they tried, Casey never fell in love with any of them and left a trail of broken hearts behind her.

All of this made Casey’s parents very irritable. They tried and they tried to make Casey behave, they grounded her and gave her punishments and nothing worked. Casey just kept breaking hearts. Finally, in desperation, Casey’s parents summoned her fairy godmother. 

Unfortunately for Casey, the day she was born, the only fairy godmother up for assignment was the very stern fairy Mally. Mally was not a pink and fluffy fairy, she did not ride in a beautiful bubble. Mally wore a black tulle dress and rode a scary black stallion. Even Casey’s parents were sort of scared of Mally, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

After a conference with Casey’s desperate parents, Mally found herself sitting on the branch of a tree, watching the naughty little princess in action. Mally shook her head as she watched the princess use her trademark wiggle and giggle on an unsuspecting princess. Mally rolled her eyes. This reminded her terribly of having to deal with that tiny terror Little Bunny Foo Foo all those years ago.

To Be Continued….

———

I have the best friends ever. Seriously.

Xoxoxo

What she really wanted was for his tongue to be in the place of her fingers. She imaged it wet and hot circling her clit obediently.
It would be heaven to see his head between her legs. Working diligently to make her happy. She’d grip his hair and direct his tongue and nose to the exact places she needed them. When she got close she’d even hold him there, gripping his hair, moving her hips so she could grind against his face…..
She imagined how he’d respond to this. No doubt he’d start humping the bed beneath his swollen cock, his ass cheeks would tense with every pointless thrust into the mattress.

What she really wanted was for his tongue to be in the place of her fingers. She imaged it wet and hot circling her clit obediently.

It would be heaven to see his head between her legs. Working diligently to make her happy. She’d grip his hair and direct his tongue and nose to the exact places she needed them. When she got close she’d even hold him there, gripping his hair, moving her hips so she could grind against his face…..

She imagined how he’d respond to this. No doubt he’d start humping the bed beneath his swollen cock, his ass cheeks would tense with every pointless thrust into the mattress.

(via 69honeybeez1)

Sometimes Daddy asks me

to explain the sexy parts.

When I discovered dry humping at about 16 it was one the happiest, sexiest time of my life. I could get off with few regrets. I would invite Phil over (did it matter if he was dating someone at the time? Not really. We were just friends) or I’d go over to his house and the routine was roughly the same: We’d put on the TV (or music, or a movie, or he’d play his guitar), I’d get bored, and I’d straddle his lap with both my legs. Then we’d kiss, hard, while I tried my hardest to rock my hips into his, grinding my jeans-and-panties-covered pussy against his rock hard jeans-and-shorts-covered cock. We’d do that until our cheeks we red, we were sweaty, our breathing was extra heavy and he told me to stop.
I always pouted when he made me stop. Not really understanding what I’d done.
I loved these little sessions because they were so casual. I didn’t want Phil to be my boyfriend, I didn’t entertain any sweeping, romantic notions about him being “the one,” and he let me have my version of sexiness on my own chubby, insecure terms.
P.S. Princess and I have vowed to write erotic novels because we are silly (and because we don’t want real jobs). We started today (this is an excerpt from mine). Do you think we’ll follow through?

When I discovered dry humping at about 16 it was one the happiest, sexiest time of my life. I could get off with few regrets. I would invite Phil over (did it matter if he was dating someone at the time? Not really. We were just friends) or I’d go over to his house and the routine was roughly the same: We’d put on the TV (or music, or a movie, or he’d play his guitar), I’d get bored, and I’d straddle his lap with both my legs. Then we’d kiss, hard, while I tried my hardest to rock my hips into his, grinding my jeans-and-panties-covered pussy against his rock hard jeans-and-shorts-covered cock. We’d do that until our cheeks we red, we were sweaty, our breathing was extra heavy and he told me to stop.

I always pouted when he made me stop. Not really understanding what I’d done.

I loved these little sessions because they were so casual. I didn’t want Phil to be my boyfriend, I didn’t entertain any sweeping, romantic notions about him being “the one,” and he let me have my version of sexiness on my own chubby, insecure terms.

P.S. Princess and I have vowed to write erotic novels because we are silly (and because we don’t want real jobs). We started today (this is an excerpt from mine). Do you think we’ll follow through?

"Daddy, will you tell me a story?

I’m not gonna get out of bed until you do”

(via sheisglorious)

Last night he stripped me down and held my hands over my head.
Then, using a hitachi on my pussy, he knelt on the bed next to me and slowly began fucking my mouth. After I came three times, moaning and squeaking between gasps on his cock, he pulled me off the bed until my ass hung over the edge.
I knew he was going to spank me so I immediately whined and covered my ass cheeks with both my hands. He pulled them off and I put them right back into place. He gathered my wrists easily in one hand and held them at the small of my back and pinned my legs with his.
He swatted me over and over until I was near tears and my ass was stinging and warm. I was still struggling to get away.
That’s when he fucked me roughly. Still holding my wrists behind me and occasionally giving my ass subsequent smacks. I howled and fussed.
Afterward, he pulled me into his arms and, while kissing every freckle on my face, he told me over and over how sexy I am.

Last night he stripped me down and held my hands over my head.

Then, using a hitachi on my pussy, he knelt on the bed next to me and slowly began fucking my mouth. After I came three times, moaning and squeaking between gasps on his cock, he pulled me off the bed until my ass hung over the edge.

I knew he was going to spank me so I immediately whined and covered my ass cheeks with both my hands. He pulled them off and I put them right back into place. He gathered my wrists easily in one hand and held them at the small of my back and pinned my legs with his.

He swatted me over and over until I was near tears and my ass was stinging and warm. I was still struggling to get away.

That’s when he fucked me roughly. Still holding my wrists behind me and occasionally giving my ass subsequent smacks. I howled and fussed.

Afterward, he pulled me into his arms and, while kissing every freckle on my face, he told me over and over how sexy I am.

(via littletaffy)

He pushed in the tip

and told me,

"That’s all you get…."

I begged for more and tried my best to push farther along his shaft.

He made me beg for more….

"I can take it Daddy. I promise. Please can I have it all?"

"You think you can handle it?"

"Yes, Daddy, YES! Please!"

He kept teasing, rubbing my clit, and smiling. Moving the tip in and out with care and bringing me to the edge of orgasm by simply rubbing the tip of his cock over my clit….

My begging turned to sobs and pleads for release.

"Please may I cum, Daddy?!"

He grinned and chuckled at my sudden change in requests.

When he finally thrust in his WHOLE length he told me, “no cumming, not yet”.

(via lovemydaddy)

I handed it in by mistake…
I was supposed to have handed in an essay on experimental archaeology. Instead I handed in the silly thing I typed at my desk while listening to his lectures. I’d day dream about sucking his cock as he spoke about Vikings and other old boring things. It must’ve been all the talk about men taking whatever they wanted that inspired me. Whenever a naughty vision of myself at his knees, or new idea would flash in my mind, I’d pull up “Cocksucking: A How To” and add to my manual.
The same manual I printed off last week (thinking I’d be cute and post it anonymously in the bathroom at my dorm) along with my paper, and mistakenly turned in to my archaeology professor.
My very own Indiana Jones. The inspiration for my essay.
He was one of those ultra productive professors who graded papers right away. So it didn’t take long for me to receive an email after the horror of realizing my error. I was supposed to come before class the next day to discuss my paper and my grade.
Was he angry? Was he turned on? Are professors allowed to call your parents? Could I get kicked out of school? All these thoughts were swimming through my mind as I arrived and knocked tentatively at his door. He let me in and shut the door behind me. Without missing a beat, handed me my essay,
“If you put effort into your class work like you did this filth, you would be passing my class.”
All the air was sucked out of the room. Time stood still. My cheeks, which were pink before, must surely have been crimson. I couldn’t tell because I was numb from adrenaline. My whole body shook and I felt terror paint its way across my face.
“I’m not passing?” I managed to stammer.
“Not after missing this assignment, and frankly, I don’t know what you can do about it. My class rules and grading system are clear on this issue.”
I don’t know why, but I instinctively dropped to my knees as I whined and teared up. In an act of true desperation I begged:
“Please professor? Can’t I do something?”
He smirked cruelly. “Your essay claims to be the ultimate guide to cock sucking, “ he looked up at the clock, “if it is indeed 100% accurate, and you can prove it, I’ll accept and grade this essay in lieu of your missing one.”
My heart was in my ears and my throat. At least I was already on my knees. I nodded in agreement. I couldn’t leave school. I couldn’t fail this class and as much as I didn’t want to admit it to myself….. In the back of my mind….. I wanted this.
He knew it too.
“Hand it here and I will read it as you work.”
I looked up at him hopefully as I handed it over.  Already on my knees, I sat on my heels in order to keep my back straight, pulled down his zipper and freed his already hard, throbbing cock.  If I had been in any other situation, with any other man, I might’ve smirked to myself at how easy this job might actually be. His cock strained for my mouth, desperate for the hot, wet pleasure it was about to receive.
 He wanted this too, of course.
I tentatively took him into my mouth and began working in and out.  I glanced up at his face which was concentrating on my essay and as I hit a dutiful pace, I occasionally heard him chuckle or make understand-y noises as he read.  I made sure to look up the whole time (just as I advised in my essay) which was good because he occasionally dropped the pages to watch me and my technique or to give me an arched eyebrow over something I’d written.  
 “Ah, so you’d like it if I squeezed your breasts while you give my cock kisses.” And, he did just that, reaching into the top of my blouse to squeeze and caress them as he continued to read.
 “And you like your head to be controlled, huh?” he asks as he rolled the papers and held them along with a handful of hair he used to drive me down onto his cock.
I couldn’t help it. I moaned in pleasure and he smirked as he watched me.
After a while, he went back to reading.  This happens with various parts of my essay, where he paused to act out a particular part I’ve written.  He was right. I put a lot of time and effort into that manual. More than I ever should’ve.
By the time he was finished reading I was a wet, squirmy mess. My panties were soaked and my face was covered in saliva. He removed his still hard cock from my mouth and I whined and huffed. I wanted him. I wanted his cock. I didn’t want him to stop.
“Very good. Would you like to earn extra credit?”
——-
Later, as I was sitting in his class feeling his cum leak out of me and watching him subtly adjust his pants as he lectured I realized I’d be needing a lot of tutoring in archaeology this year.

I handed it in by mistake…

I was supposed to have handed in an essay on experimental archaeology. Instead I handed in the silly thing I typed at my desk while listening to his lectures. I’d day dream about sucking his cock as he spoke about Vikings and other old boring things. It must’ve been all the talk about men taking whatever they wanted that inspired me. Whenever a naughty vision of myself at his knees, or new idea would flash in my mind, I’d pull up “Cocksucking: A How To” and add to my manual.

The same manual I printed off last week (thinking I’d be cute and post it anonymously in the bathroom at my dorm) along with my paper, and mistakenly turned in to my archaeology professor.

My very own Indiana Jones. The inspiration for my essay.

He was one of those ultra productive professors who graded papers right away. So it didn’t take long for me to receive an email after the horror of realizing my error. I was supposed to come before class the next day to discuss my paper and my grade.

Was he angry? Was he turned on? Are professors allowed to call your parents? Could I get kicked out of school? All these thoughts were swimming through my mind as I arrived and knocked tentatively at his door. He let me in and shut the door behind me. Without missing a beat, handed me my essay,

“If you put effort into your class work like you did this filth, you would be passing my class.”

All the air was sucked out of the room. Time stood still. My cheeks, which were pink before, must surely have been crimson. I couldn’t tell because I was numb from adrenaline. My whole body shook and I felt terror paint its way across my face.

“I’m not passing?” I managed to stammer.

“Not after missing this assignment, and frankly, I don’t know what you can do about it. My class rules and grading system are clear on this issue.”

I don’t know why, but I instinctively dropped to my knees as I whined and teared up. In an act of true desperation I begged:

“Please professor? Can’t I do something?”

He smirked cruelly. “Your essay claims to be the ultimate guide to cock sucking, “ he looked up at the clock, “if it is indeed 100% accurate, and you can prove it, I’ll accept and grade this essay in lieu of your missing one.”

My heart was in my ears and my throat. At least I was already on my knees. I nodded in agreement. I couldn’t leave school. I couldn’t fail this class and as much as I didn’t want to admit it to myself….. In the back of my mind….. I wanted this.

He knew it too.

“Hand it here and I will read it as you work.”

I looked up at him hopefully as I handed it over.  Already on my knees, I sat on my heels in order to keep my back straight, pulled down his zipper and freed his already hard, throbbing cock.  If I had been in any other situation, with any other man, I might’ve smirked to myself at how easy this job might actually be. His cock strained for my mouth, desperate for the hot, wet pleasure it was about to receive.

 He wanted this too, of course.

I tentatively took him into my mouth and began working in and out.  I glanced up at his face which was concentrating on my essay and as I hit a dutiful pace, I occasionally heard him chuckle or make understand-y noises as he read.  I made sure to look up the whole time (just as I advised in my essay) which was good because he occasionally dropped the pages to watch me and my technique or to give me an arched eyebrow over something I’d written.  

 “Ah, so you’d like it if I squeezed your breasts while you give my cock kisses.” And, he did just that, reaching into the top of my blouse to squeeze and caress them as he continued to read.

 “And you like your head to be controlled, huh?” he asks as he rolled the papers and held them along with a handful of hair he used to drive me down onto his cock.

I couldn’t help it. I moaned in pleasure and he smirked as he watched me.

After a while, he went back to reading.  This happens with various parts of my essay, where he paused to act out a particular part I’ve written.  He was right. I put a lot of time and effort into that manual. More than I ever should’ve.

By the time he was finished reading I was a wet, squirmy mess. My panties were soaked and my face was covered in saliva. He removed his still hard cock from my mouth and I whined and huffed. I wanted him. I wanted his cock. I didn’t want him to stop.

“Very good. Would you like to earn extra credit?”

——-

Later, as I was sitting in his class feeling his cum leak out of me and watching him subtly adjust his pants as he lectured I realized I’d be needing a lot of tutoring in archaeology this year.

If for some reason Daddy were to neglect his morning inspection ritual it might occur later in the day. Baby wouldn’t know where or when Daddy would choose to stand her against a wall and flip up her skirt.
If caught wearing slutty big girl panties, baby’s ass would surely be pink and red when they returned home.

If for some reason Daddy were to neglect his morning inspection ritual it might occur later in the day. Baby wouldn’t know where or when Daddy would choose to stand her against a wall and flip up her skirt.

If caught wearing slutty big girl panties, baby’s ass would surely be pink and red when they returned home.

Summer days started with baby asking Daddy to approve of her summer dress. She was to model it politely and smile.

Daddy decided every morning if she’d been a good girl the day before. If so, she was allowed to wear her pretty panties. If she missbehaved the previous day, baby went bare.

She always begged for panties. She felt so slutty without them and was constantly blushing and pulling down at the hem of her skirt. On days she wasn’t allowed them Daddy would tease and whisper inappropriate things to make her blush harder.

He told her naughty girls start their day with no panties and good girls start appropriately dressed and usually find themselves with their panties moved to the side, or down to their thighs, or down to their knees, or around their ankles.

<3

(via palides-deactivated20130904)

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