Call Me Princess

Just put her in cute little onesies and adorable girly dresses, only use a condescending tone when talking to her. Start taking care of her every need, till she doesn’t even have to ask anymore, teaching her to be dependent on you for everything. Give her a new plushie every week until she has a cozy little plushie nest. Encourage her to take lots of naps, especially on your lap. Make sure you only call her baby, princess, darling, etc. When she starts to get fussy without you, thats when you need to get her a paci, and lots of little toys to play with.

grabbing your chin, forcing you to look up at me, smirking at the way your bravado falters

pinning your wrists, pressing my weight down, feeling you squirm as you pretend you don’t love every second of it

slamming into you, fucking you open, wrecking you so thoroughly that all you can do is moan and sob, all that brattiness melting into submission

The process of being disciplined is uncomfortable.

yes, you can keep grinding on my thigh like a desperate little puppy

but only if you keep your eyes on the textbook and get the answer right

every wrong answer ? i pull your hips back

every right one ? you get to hump a little harder

see ? i’m helping you study and stay focused.

Turns out, throwing my crayons and being a brat has big consequences in daddy’s classroom… Daddy decided to put me in detention! Stuck in these restraints, I realised way too late that I can’t exactly run to the toilet…. Whilst I was strapped to the chair I had a massive accident in my super cute panties…. How embarrassing! 🙈

You pay the rent, utilities, phone bill, groceries, etc

You buy her pretty outfits to prance around in

You make the dinner reservations, plan the vacations, schedule the movie dates and the concert nights

You reassure her and make sure she knows that she’s the only one, that’s you’re as devoted to her as she is to you

Worry, whether it’s about finances, fidelity, commitment, or planning, is the enemy of submission.

If you want her to act like a docile, obedient pet, if you want her to truly think of you as her Daddy, you make sure she doesn’t have a care in the world other than making you happy, and she will do everything in her power to make sure you always are.

If you want to own her, you have to provide for her

No, no, not like that. I know that sounds bad! Let me explain.

The dog was on a walk, obviously. Out on a walk with their owner. On a leash because I suppose they were either going to somewhere the dog could run around or coming back. Whatever.

Point is, the dog was on a leash, and the dog was looking up at their owner. And it was that look that made me think of you.

They were just so happy.

Looking up so adoringly.

It was a look of just complete and total contentment. At that moment, nothing else at all mattered. They were with their owner and that was everything. Not a single worry or anything else in that little doggy head.

That's why I thought of you.

Because I've seen that look before.

No, don't look away, keep looking at me. Blushing's fine, you can blush, but don't look away. There you go. Good girl. You know what look I'm talking about, don't you?

Nod, don't speak. Good girl.

Yes, you know what look I'm talking about. You're struggling to keep it off your face right now because of how I'm talking to you. You're even struggling to stay standing. I know you'd be happier by my feet, and so do you.

That look. I usually see it look down, don't I? Nod again for me. Good girl. And heel. Good girl. See? Look at that. There it is. Speak.

Aww, it just comes right out. Look, you even surprised yourself! Oh, and I didn't think you could get any more red.

Maybe I should take you for a walk sometime, hmm? Would you like that? Just following your own so devotedly, staring up so happily? Yes? Would you like that?

You do know you started wagging a little, don't you?

Such a good girl.

eventually you’re grinding into each other, gasping into eachother’s mouths between heated kisses. and god, they’re just so beautiful— and you need them. so you can’t help but whisper between love-bites on their neck, begging them to let you taste them. because you need it so bad, you’re trembling at the thought.

obviously, this is where they’re a bit iffy. not because they don’t want to. but because nobody’s ever made them feel good before. their last experiences were spent with people who didn’t know what they were doing. but you? you’ve been waiting for this— waiting for them. so when you start kissing your way down their body, they get nervous, their hands flying to your hair as a way to ground themselves.

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“Bottom Fucks Are For The Naughty” by moonicorn