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He looks stupid good in real life. Golden hair graying at the temples, long, regal nose. Plump lips, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down whenever he takes a sip from his drink. His shirt is ironed out, not one wrinkle in sight, even his slacks so obviously expensive. Erwin, his name is. You wonder if it’s his real name or if he just chose a random one for the dating app where you found each other. No matter; you won’t be using his name tonight. He won’t use yours either.
hey
Hello.
i wasn’t expecting to match with you
You're a beautiful young woman.
you’re not so bad yourself
His hands are so big. So very big. To not be scared, you drank some before leaving home earlier. To drown the side of you that made sense, that screamed bloody hell inside your head—he could kill you. HE COULD KILL YOU AND TOSS YOUR BODY IN SOME RANDOM DITCH. Your own hands are still trembling slightly. You’re grateful for the drink he offered you. You shouldn’t have accepted it probably, but to hell with it.
“This is how we do this,” he says, crisply. “You’ll finish your drink, and go to bed. You’ll turn the lights off. You’ll lie under the covers.”
“Okay.”
“I’ll come for you. I’ll call for you. You’ll answer.”
“Do I have to call you…”
He looks at you with his striking blue eyes. You are lost in his ocean, unable to swim up, the weight of the water pulling you under.
i never did anything like this before. if that’s a deal breaker
Don’t worry. I did, and it’s not.
i feel so hot already
Your heart is beating red and blue against your chest.
His sheets are soft, cool against your burning, bare legs. There is nothing personal in the room; not a picture on the nightstand, not a mug, no book on the dresser, no perfume, nothing. It makes anxiety rise up your throat again. You try to take a full breath in but don’t succeed, so you cough a few times to force it out instead. You pull your knees up to your chest. You tremble. You were also inebriated when you matched him. When you started texting him. You are not as introverted as you think you are, your friends always like to say, but only after you have a few drinks in you.
You wonder if Erwin has kids of his own. A wife, a girlfriend, a boyfriend, if he’s bi, if he’s cheating on them with you. Your family is away, so far away. Different country. If he killed you tonight, they wouldn’t even know until it was too late. There’s comfort in knowing you made this choice for yourself and nobody else.
why are you agreeing to this?
Well, why are you?
i think i’m fucked up
I don’t think so.
He opens the door so slowly you think you imagine the sound at first. But then he closes it and clears his throat, and then it’s all so real. Your wandering mind is pulled back into your head with the urgency of a loose tooth tied on a doorknob.
“Babygirl, are you asleep?”
Your eyes close with the force of his words, your breath hitches. Low, his voice rumbles in your own chest.
“No,” you whisper, faking a yawn.
“Good.”
His heavy footsteps reach to the bed, then you hear the clacking of his belt as he takes it off. The mattress gives way as he sits down, brushing your hair gently. He has big, heavy hands, warm hands, strong hands. You can’t stop thinking about his hands. His guiding hands, sure hands.
“I was hoping to find my girl awake, so I could give her a big, squeezy hug.”
He gets under the covers and does just that. You wonder what he does for a living. You want him to be someone important. Someone who travels a lot, who goes into boring fucking meetings every single day with equally important, equally boring people, you want him to come home late, drink good whiskey alone in his study. You want to curl in his lap like a kitten and be the only thing that can calm him down.
You will be my little daughter for the night, and I will be your dad. I will be quick, and you will not say no to me.
yes. safe word is figs.
Are you partial to figs?
not at all. i just think there’s something really erotic about the way their insides look.
Figs it is.
what’s your fav fruit?
Pomegranates.
what a bloody mess
He’s hugging you from behind, and when you try to move, he holds you tight. “Shh,” he says, “I know you’re sleepy. Just make space and let Daddy give you a big hug, here. Good girl.”
You bite your lip, the muscles in your leg spasming. How huge he is, his entire body wrapped around you like a second blanket. You breathe in, shakily, you breathe out, shakily. “Daddy,” you whisper, fingers rubbing your collarbone—a nervous habit—“I feel something poking me down there.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he says easily, “Now, you have an important job to do, little one. Daddy’s had a hard day, and he knows you can make him better.”
“I can.”
You remember your ex-best friend and her disdainful mouth, her snort, her words like bullets shooting through your skull. You are loyal like a dog who would do anything to please its owner. Sit. Roll. Worship.
“Good girl.”
One of his hands moves to slide your panties down your legs. After that, you understand from the shuffle that he’s doing the same to his own trousers and then underwear. You want to hurl yourself off a cliff; you want to scream, fire! fire! and run until your legs give out from under you. You want to break your fingers off one by one, take whatever pills you can find in your house and mix it with alcohol, call it closure.
are you not going to ask me how my relationship is with my parents? lol
Why would I do that?
well. everyone else on this app i matched with seems weirdly interested in the exact moment they failed me
When was it?
i think it was when i was born. they should’ve never been parents and i never a daughter.
On your way to his place, you promised yourself you wouldn’t cry afterwards. You now realize you are very likely to break that promise. It’s so dark, and he’s such a professional. He’s striking, he’s brave. And he has such reassuring hands.
“Daddy what—what is that?”
Your voice cracks, but he shushes you immediately, fingers intertwining with yours in the dark. It’s an intimate gesture. It’s a kind gesture. You wonder if it’s part of the play or if he’s genuinely trying to calm you down. A helpless little noise escapes your throat.
“That’s Daddy’s penis,” he says, breath hot on your nape. “Lift your leg up a little bit—”
You do it if only because you want him to praise you again—
And he does—
“Good girl, so good at following directions. That’s Daddy’s penis between your legs. Mmh. Good girl, close your legs now. Feel it.”
Fuck, he’s huge. He feels huge. In the darkness, everything feels huge. Your heart is thrice its size. His hands are huge on your body. This pull in your gut, huge. Threatening to implode.
“Daddy, let me go.”
You say it just to hear him deny you.
“No I can’t let you go, sweetheart,” he mumbles, his hips lazily moving back and forth. “Give me your two hands, so I can hold them, okay? Let Daddy hold them as he rubs against your princess parts—good girl.”
You’re so wet it’s embarrassing. Something wicked is brewing under your skin. “It—it feels good.”
“It’s because you’re a good girl for Daddy. Mmh. That’s right.”
You close your eyes, mouth hanging open. His free hand is on your chest, grabbing one of your tits. He rolls your nipple under his thumb, and you almost squeak. “It—it’s so good, Daddy,” you whisper, “I feel so slippery down there.”
You don’t know how many hours you spent before reading erotica meeting Erwin just to familiarize yourself with the words, with the concept. You wanted to be a good little daughter for him, when the time came. You wanted to be his favorite fuck, most innocent fuck, the one that he would remember randomly for the rest of his life. And as his cock moves between your legs, you realize you also did it for yourself, a little bit. For once you wanted to take something without being ashamed, do something to your advantage.
“Good girl,” he says again, voice husky, “I’ll let go of your hands now. Reach down and touch Daddy’s penis—good girl. Gently push it between your legs like that. It spreads you open a little bit too, right? Good girl. Rub the tip of Daddy’s penis against your button, come on now. Good job.”
It feels so messy that you have to bite your lip to hide a laugh. His cock is leaking, you’re leaking, and your head spins with the overwhelmingness of it all.
“Like this, Daddy?”
“Just like that, baby. There you go. Good girl. Good girl.”
“I feel good.”
“It’s because you are doing something right. This is good for Daddy, babygirl.”
“It is?”
He hums, hands grabbing you tightly.
“Yes, my sweet girl,” he mutters, “Reach down further, make Daddy’s penis feel good. So good. My lovely girl. That’s it.”
Ask and ye shall receive.
You’re coming. You don’t know what’s happening but you’re breathless, heart thumping, body on fire. He holds you tight, so tight that he pieces all your broken bones back together, understanding what’s going on, lip pressed against your shoulder, hips steady, hands forgiving, hands like water.
Then, like nothing happened, he continues.
“Now, this is going to be a little scary, so put your thumb in your mouth. Go on. And then I want you to put Daddy’s penis in your princess hole.”
You inhale sharply. “But Daddy—”
“No," he says. It’s final. No. “No ifs, no buts, no talking. Go on, baby.”
You’re still shaking from your high, but you do as he says. You take a deep breath. You try to relax.
“That’s it—nngh. That’s my girl—”
“It burns, Daddy, wait, stop—”
“No baby, Daddy can’t stop now. Come on, nngh, you can keep sucking on your thumb as Daddy uses your insides. Little princess. Daddy needs to be inside you now to feel good. Don’t you want Daddy to feel good?”
He’s so big that you’re afraid of splitting in half. It fucking burns, you’re not lying, but it’s on you; you didn’t prepare yourself, you didn’t tell him beforehand to be gentle, to go slow, that you haven’t done this before. You want to hurt terribly, but you can’t hurt yourself; so it has to be someone else. That someone else has to hurt you, then you put you back piece by piece.
“I d—mmh—do, D—Daddy.”
“Daddy’s so proud of his little girl, letting him use her princess hole like that. Nngh—good—good girl.”
He’s deadweight on top of you, and you can’t breathe. You open your mouth, but only a choked out moan comes out.
“It’s like a hug from the inside, isn’t it, baby? Isn’t that right, my princess?"
Daddy is too big on top of me. Daddy is too big in me. Daddy loves me. Daddy loves me.
“Oh—little one. Daddy is going to come inside your tiny little baby cunt, okay?”
Daddy loves me so much.
“Daddy it’s so hard—”
“I know it’s hard work, but you’re doing so well, baby. Such a good little sweetheart for me. My good girl.”
“Oh—Daddy—”
“Good girl, yes my little baby. Daddy is coming now. Daddy is coming inside you to be with you always.”
I’m your good girl. I’m your best girl.
“Dad loves you so much, sweetheart.”