Metallic red dress

I haven't posted an actual story here for some time. So here's a thousand words or so of free erotica, my take on the daddy porn that's been popular over the last year or so. And if you want to know more about the Electra Complex, Wikipedia is a good starting point.

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Lllaaaaashhhlp! That’s Baby, pressing her tongue hard against my cock and running it slowly up the length, from root to tip. She’ s in her favourite position, kneeling on the floor between my legs. She can stay like that for hours if I let her, toying with my cock in her mouth like it’s a lollipop.

Baby’s wearing pigtails and high heels.

‘Pleeeeease, Daddy,’ she says. ‘Please buy me a dress. We have them in the shop. They’re really nice. Really short. You’ll like me in it. Just think of me bent over, showing you my pussy when it rides up at the back. Just think of my hard tits outlined under that material. Think of your cock sliding in and out of me.’

‘You know the rule, Baby. No clothes in the house.’

Her face brightens. ‘Do you want to take me out? To a fetish club? Maybe show me off to your friends? Then you could give me that date-rape drug like you did last time…’

Yeah. Amazing how well a phial of sugared water works when Baby’s had a couple of drinks. When she’s in the mood she’s very suggestible.

I change the subject.

‘Why don’t you tell me what happened at the shop today?’ Baby works at a women’s clothing store, an independent place that specialises in clubwear, dancewear, lapdance and poledance and stripper clothing. It’s popular. Economic recessions always make that kind of stuff popular with couples for a night in; with men who want their women to act out fantasies; with women who fancy their chances of making a buck out of their sexuality.  

She pouts. Puts one hand around the base of my cock, uses the palm of the other to massage the helmet. Looks up at me. ‘Nothing much. Well, just the one thing.’

She fits my cock back in her mouth. Teasing. I use the pigtails to lift her head again.

‘Tell.’

‘Promise you won’t punish me, Daddy?’

Like fuck. That’s her standard line when she wants to be punished. I reach out to the coffee table. I always leave a set of handcuffs there, for just these times. She does the Oww Daddy you don’t need to cuff me stuff, and the expressive wriggle of her shoulder blades. But she also does the hip wriggle that means she’s liking it.

I use those pigtails to pull her head back, arching her neck.

‘Tell.’

‘Yes, Daddy. I was in the shop on my own for a lot of the afternoon. A guy came in, a really fit guy like he works out a lot. Wanted to buy a dress for his girlfriend. The dress I want, it’s the same style he picked. It’s a nice one in metallic red, thigh length, slit sides, open back so it covers your shoulder blades but not your spine. It’s a stretchy one-size-fits-all, but he wasn’t sure how it would look on his girlfriend. Said I was the same size as her and wanted me to model it. So I did. It felt really clingy and sexy when I wore it. I opened the curtain to the changing booth and showed him, and he wanted me to turn around to see the back. Then he suddenly put his hand on the back of my neck, pushed my face into the wall and I felt his fingers on my pussy. Because I wasn’t wearing any underwear because you never let me wear any, Daddy.’

I know where this is going. It’s a cuckold story, the kind she always tells when she wants a spanking. And there’s a tiny, tiny chance it might even be true.

‘So I’m pressed up again the wall and his fingers are inside me and I open my legs a bit, and then he puts his thing inside me. And I’m really really wet, and he’s pushing and I’m arching my spine and he’s saying these words in my ear. He told me I’m a fuckslut. Am I a fuckslut, Daddy? Should I have let him do that to me?’

‘Yes, Baby, you’re a fuckslut. But you’ve missed out one detail.’

‘You mean the bit out his spunk dribbling down my leg when he’d finished?’

‘No. The bit about whether he actually bought the dress.’

‘Oh yeah. Three of them, in red, blue and gold.’

‘In that case you’re a good shop assistant, but since you’ve been teasing me I’m definitely going to punish you.’

She goes into the Please Daddy I only did what you told me to routine, and the I’m a very good girl really routine. She knows how to manipulate me. One of these days I’ll just tie her and leave her in the garden shed overnight, to prove I can’t be manipulated. But not right now. Right now I’m going to hurt her, and the only question is which of the canes, out of the dozen or so in the earthenware pot in the corner, I’m going to choose. I make her kneel on the coffee table – I bought it because it’s sturdy enough to take her weight – and because her hands are cuffed behind her back, she had to support herself on knees and the side of her face, with her ass in the air.

Thin whippy cane. Twenty-four strokes. She knows she daren’t move. At the end of it, her thighs are trembling and tears are streaking her face. Please, Daddy, I can’t take any more. Please fuck me, Daddy. Fuck me in the ass if you want. Please, I’ll be your very good Baby. I’ll do anything you say.

Yes, she will. And her pussy is glistening wet. Fuckable. So I fuck it.

Afterwards I take her off the table, let her curl up shaking and shivering in my lap and lick her own juices off my cock while I stroke her hair.

Eventually she says ‘I didn’t come.’

‘I saw you coming. I heard you coming hard from the cane, even before I fucked you.’

‘No, I mean I didn’t come when the guy fucked me in the shop.’

‘So you are a good girl, because you followed the rule. You’re only allowed to come when Daddy fucks you.’

She sighs contentedly.

Biographical note: Baby is thirty-six and a divorced mother of two. That makes her two years older than me, her Daddy. Her kids are away with her ex-husband for the weekend, which is why she’s with me. She had a privileged upbringing, no abuse and no daddy issues. On the other hand, since her divorce - maybe before it as well, and maybe it was the cause of the divorce - she’s into sexual exploration and she knows her psychology. The first man in a girl’s life, the one she tries to impress and tease and inflame, is her father. This phenomenon has a name: the Electra Complex. It's a particular fascination of Baby's.

I wait until the following Wednesday. By then she’s back in the shop, being a mother and a breadwinner. And around two in the afternoon I walk into the shop.

‘I’m interested in buying a dress,’ I say. ‘Maybe one of these metallic red ones.’

‘You know they’re one size fits all?’

‘Yeah, so they fall differently depending on who’s wearing them.’

‘Would you like me to model one?’ Sounding innocent, like she’d do it for anyone.

In the changing booth, I grab her neck and pin her facing the wall.

It’s a very short dress. When she arches her back it rises up to display her pussy.

I growl in her ear, telling her she’s a fuckslut. Feel her hips wriggle impatiently.

Twenty minutes later I buy her the dress, on condition she uses her staff discount. But she still won't be allowed to wear it at home. I have a fetish club in mind for the weekend. I'll show her off to my friends.