Delicate strokes of the polish stained her toes. Something so simple, but yet his eyes watched the wand draw back to front with seductive lust. She giggled as he grew excited, her toes held as still as a statue. He could feel the moisture collecting in the sides of his cheeks, embarrassed with a little trickle escaped through the corner of his lips. A quick swipe of this tongue didn’t go un-noticed, her giggle became deeper and more childish. Like being caught with the last cookie after being told no.
“How’s that, Princess?” he asked, his voice thick with desire.
She wiggled her toes back and forth, inspecting they tiny digits. Each one coated in a flawless shade of crimson. She could complain, but there was no reason. He had done what he said. Painted a masterpiece of passion and desire on each nail. He even picked the color. They matched the shoes he purchased earlier in the day.
“Yes, Daddy,” her tongue played with the name she called him. It was done out of a playful nature, but when he readjusted his pants, she knew that would be his new name. Well, at least for her. No one else would dare use it. Her nails would fuck up the first pretty face that tried. Jealousy wasn’t pretty, but at times she couldn’t control it.
“Stop that shit before I put you over my knee and make you scream that name,” he warned.
Her cheek tugged upwards like the Cheshire cat, wiggling her toes in his face. The shoes sat at his knees and a pair of white socks laid next to them. Not the normal socks, but the silky ones with a row of lace around the top. It had been years since she wore them, but tonight, she would have them slipped on with nothing but sex on their minds.
One last blow across her toes and he slipped the shocking white socks on her feet. Each one followed by a pair of red patent leather shoe with a bow on the tip and a 3-inch heel on the bottom. They were the kind that most wore for holiday pictures with the fat man in the red suit. Shiny and pretty, she pulled them up to look at them. Not quite a reflection, but she could see a shadow in the soft material.
A sharp exhale as he stood, his massive frame towering over her petite shadow. She was a waif of a girl, but full woman in all the right places. Some of them unexplored for now, but soon he would leave his mark over her entire body. Extending a hand, he waited until her delicate grasp was within his. She was his property now and he God damn dared anyone to challenge that.
“Tonight, your mine. Don’t let me hear you speaking to another man or there will be hell to pay. All of your attention will be on me, and me alone. I don’t share. Do you understand that, Princess?” he asked.
She simply nodded at him knowing that she had never in her life felt this way before. Butterflies anticipating their release in her stomach, this was the man she dreamed of. The one from her dreams. All of her life she thought he was just a part of an overactive imagination, but no more. He was real, and she was his property. His Princess.
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