Disclaimer: This is just a story. It is not about me. It is actually an inspiration for a book in the works. I am sharing it because the story is actually progressing very well.

I always knew that I wanted to save myself for marriage, but fate took the lead when it came to my virginity. My parents were very active members of the social circuit in our town. What most didn’t know was that they were very deep into the fetish community. Late parties at my home were something I grew up with but was never allowed to view. At 9pm on Friday nights, I needed to disappear. Whether staying with a friend, or in my room, I was not allowed to come into the family room. If I am being honest, I was curious, but too scared to find out. For a while I assumed they were witches and sacrificing souls in the backyard. Yes, a childish thought, but it was better than the truth.

I remember that Friday night vividly. Fall was upon us, and the night chilly, so I didn’t go out as often. Bonfires with friends were too cold to attend. At 9 pm on the dot, my mother reminded me that my bedroom was waiting and there already was snacks waiting for me. I had a private bathroom, so really, there was no need to come out of my room. Plus, the privilege of owning a cell phone, computer, and cable TV meant that I had everything an 18 year old could possibly want or need. Well, almost everything. I still was curious when I watched from the window and seen each car park and the couples come into the house. Most of them were my friend’s parents, but sometimes a new one attended. That always had my full attention.

Daddy shocked me.

Curiosity killed the cat, or something like that. Around midnight I did it. I snuck out of my bedroom and sat at the top of the stairs watching. Oh, my GOD! Those people, the ones that call themselves the pillars of society were in the middle of my living room having sex, being spanked, and wearing collars around their necks. My own father walked around with a leash and collar around his neck. I thought he was a real man because he was a CEO of a very large company. Little did I know, he was acting like a bitch in heat and wiggling his ass at every cock in the room. My love for him didn’t die that day, but my respect sure did. I knew at that moment that I could have anything I wanted with the knowledge that I obtained. Sadly, that high was short lived.

“What are you doing out of your room?” she asked.

My mother stood behind me on the stairs with a look of disgust on her face. I knew the second I looked up that she was disappointed in me. There is a huge difference between mad and disappointed. I would rather she grounded me for life than look at me like I was disobedient.

Stammering for words, my eyes filled with tears as I looked up at her. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t sleep and I heard noises down here,” I lied.

“Am I supposed to believe that? You have everything you need, and yet you come out and bother us?” she sighed.

I shook my head, stood, and proceeded to head back to my bedroom when a hand stopped me. My mother grabbed the back of my sleep shirt, tugging it hard, “Oh no. You want to be a grown up, so come join the party.”

As curious as I was, I didn’t want to know anything about what they did in the darkness of the night. Seeing my father was enough to scar me for life.

“I’m sorry, please. I’m tired.”

Without another word my mother twisted her fist in the back of my pink flowered shirt and forced me down the stairs into the middle of Sodom and Gomorrah. People, no, friends parents all stopped as I stood there with my mouth wide open.

“Friends, we have a spy among us. You see, my lovely daughter has decided that she wants to join the party. I had hoped she would wait a while, but tonight will be her coming out party. Everyone, welcome her,” she announced.

The room erupted in a wave of cheers, claps, and smiles, but some of the couples held back their fear with fake faith.

“I have decided to allow Daddy to have my precious angel. He will choose her punishment or pleasure,” she added.

My father rested on his knees in a submissive pose, his face hiding the shock of what was to come for me. I am sure he knew already, but he also knew his place in this world. He was a submissive and my mother’s word was law.

Out of the corner of my eyes I saw him. The man they all referred to as Daddy. Standing at least 6 ft 4, he was a large man covered in tattoos. Right away he gave the biker vibe. Someone rough and dangerous, but as much as he was feared, he was loved.

“Bring her to me,” he said, his voice as though he scared his throat with a shot of whiskey.

“Mom,” I whined, not wanting to go to this stranger.

Smiling, she looked over with a wicked glance, “Go see Daddy. He will show you how to be a good girl.”

Reluctantly I moved to the man, noticing that he was at least a foot taller and a 100 pounds heavier that me. I’m sure the fear in my eyes fed his carnal needs.

“Kneel!” he said, his voice demanding.

I don’t know what happened at that moment, but I was on my knees with my baby blue eyes on the man. Almost as though I was trained to show him respect.

“Good girl,” he said, his hand reaching out to lightly stroke her hair.

My entire body shaking, I folded my hands in my lap, never once looking away at the man. I counted the tattoos on his arms and hand, all of them hinting at danger. Whoever this man is, the entire room respected him and feared him at the same time. I didn’t realize that tears rolled down my cheek until he laughed.

“Scared little kitten? Are you scared of what Daddy has planned for you?” he asked.

All I could do was nod my head. I was terrified of what they all had planned, not just him. My parents are there to protect me, not feed me to the lion. Unable to move, my mother placed herself behind me, her hands reaching out and pulling the zipper of his tattered jeans down. I couldn’t look away when she reached in his pants with the hand that held her wedding ring and pulled out his cock. When I say I died at that moment I don’t mean in the physical sense, but in the soulful one. His cock, that beast, was at least 10 inches in length, 6 inches around and filled with pulsating veins. If that wasn’t enough, the head was pierced. God, who does that? Who would allow a needle to rip around the flesh of their most sensitive body part? The devil, that’s who.

“Kiss it,” he said.

I wanted to resist, but my mother stood behind me forcing my head forward. No, I didn’t open my mouth, but I placed my first kiss on the head. It was my first kiss experience. Never in my wildest of dreams did I assume that I would kiss a cock and not a boy my own age.

“Dismissed,” he said, looking at my mother.

As the woman who gave birth to me moved away, Daddy placed his rough and calloused hands on my cheeks. One on each side, smearing in the tears that soaked my face. Holding my head in his strong grip, the head of his cock pressed against my sealed lips, pushing just enough to force the head of his cock against my teeth. Should I have bitten him? Not if I wanted to see the light of another day. I was fully confident that my mother would have allowed him to destroy me right there in front of everyone.

“Open your mouth, kitten,” he said.

This was the moment that I knew my parents transferred ownership over to this man. Sure, I was old enough to make my own choices, but I didn’t. My mouth opened and inch by inch that beast of a cock pushed across my tongue, stopping the second he reached my throat opening.

“You are not allowed to gag, bite, or choke. You will swallow my cock and hold it until I say stop. If you do any of the above you will not enjoy the end results,” he warned.

I knew by his tone and the way his eyes bore into my soul to not test this theory. My mouth opened wider, and when he pushed into my throat, I cried as every inch buried into my throat. I did not gag, choke, or bite, but there were a few seconds there that I thought I would suffocate. Sucking cock is a learning curve. You either do it, or you fail. I didn’t fail.

Never once did his hips move. His hands still on the cheeks, he used my mouth like a cock sleeve, pulling back and pounding back into my throat. His balls hit my chin with a round of applause each time he hit the homerun and stretched my throat open. I heard the grunting from above, but when he held my head down, his cock not pulling back, my stomach claimed the first prize. A pipe busted and my mouth overflowed with the sweetest cream. My first taste of cum intoxicated me with a burst of amazing flavor. If that wasn’t enough, the clapping that pulsated in my ears let me know that I was now his kitten, and he would take possession of me that night. I moved out of my house that night, but my training was just beginning. Daddy is showing his kitten how to purr.

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You’re not my family, so why do I call you daddy?

Daddy, Papi, Father, why? Why call a man these names if he’s not related to you? For many people, it is a term of endearment when speaking to an older man. For others, though, it rolls off the tongue in a river of taboo secrets.

The daddy kink’s often not understood. When I call a lover “Daddy”, I am not referring to my biological father. For some, me included, the term refers to a dominate older man. I have always considered myself a submissive female, and in many of my relationships, that has worked. For others, they just don’t understand that I am not being incestual when calling them by that name. Sadly, that is why many people today wait until they are behind the security of a closed door to let their inner daddy’s little girl out to play.

On the other end of the spectrum, there is another group of people who indulge in the fetish of dd/dlg. For those that don’t know what that means, Daddy’s daughter/ Daddy’s little girl. That one opens another can of worms by introducing ageplay into the taboo game. There is something so filthy about an adult regressing back into the days of innocent. Promise not to tell? I love this little roleplay game. Giving yourself to a Domme Daddy has always interested me. It might be where my Submissive Kitten fetish started.

We’ve only touched on a few of the reasons the term Daddy’s used. I will go deeper into the fetishes in the coming blogs, but remember one thing, just because you don’t understand, doesn’t mean it’s wrong. It’s just different. Never judge a book by the cover if you’re not allowing anyone to read your own personal chapters.

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