Chapter 19
Marie
T he blinds were drawn, casting long shadows across the Bakery. I was buzzing, every nerve ending alive and sparking with anticipation. Dwight leaned against the mic stand, eyes half-lidded, a smirk playing on his lips. He had that cocky musician vibe down pat, like he'd just played Hollywood Bowl instead of a small-town bakery.
"Come here, Marie," he commanded softly, curling his finger in that universally sexy 'come hither' motion. I played up the groupie act, biting my lip, twirling a lock of hair around my finger. My heart was pounding like a kick drum, but I kept my voice light and breezy.
"Oh my gosh, Dwight, your set was amazing," I gushed, taking a step closer. "I've never seen anything like it."
His smirk deepened, that onstage confidence blending with his Daddy persona. "Glad you liked it, sweetheart. Now come here and thank your favorite rock star properly."
My stomach flipped. God, he was hot. I took another step, closing the distance between us. My breath hitched as his hand reached out, tracing the microphone cord with deliberate slowness. His eyes locked onto mine, searching for any sign of uncertainty. There was none. I was all in, eager to see where this night would take us.
"You wanna see your idol up close, little groupie?" he asked, voice low and husky. I nodded, my heart thudding in my chest. He wrapped the cord around my wrist, a teasing promise. "Might have to keep you under control. Wouldn't want you getting too excited."
His words sent a shiver down my spine. I could feel the heat radiating off his body, could see the rise and fall of his chest. He was enjoying this as much as I was. I let out a shaky breath, my eyes flicking from his face to the cord wrapped around his fist. Who knew a simple microphone cord could be so sexy?
"Wouldn't want to cause any trouble, sir," I replied, a slight quiver in my voice. I was playing the part, but the words held a kernel of truth. I didn't want to disappoint him, didn't want to break the spell we were under.
He chuckled, a low rumble that I felt more than heard. "Too late for that, sweetheart. You've been trouble since the moment you walked in. I saw you in the crowd, making eyes at me." His words sent a thrill through me. This was what I wanted, what I craved. The push and pull, the give and take. I wanted to be his good girl, his troublemaker, his everything.
“I would never—”
“Don’t you dare lie to me.”
He tugged on the cord, a gentle reminder of his control. I could feel the hum of excitement in my veins, the thrill of the unknown. I was ready for whatever he had in store. Ready to be his groupie, his fan, his lover. Ready to be his.
Dwight's hand, firm and steady, guided me towards a sturdy wooden table tucked away in the corner of the bakery's back room. My heart pounded like a kick drum, echoing the rhythm of his last set. I hopped up onto the table, the cool surface a stark contrast to the heat radiating from my body. His eyes, those deep green pools, locked onto mine, sending a shiver down my spine.
He held up the mic cord, a wicked grin playing on his lips. With a gentleness that belied his size, he wound the cord tighter around my wrists, binding them behind my back. Each loop sent a thrill through me, the tension a tangible reminder of his control.
"You're gonna submit to me tonight," he murmured, his voice a low growl that resonated deep within me. A tender check-in followed, his tone softening. "How’s that feel, baby girl? Not too tight?"
I squirmed, testing the restraints. The cord hummed against my skin, a sensation that was surprisingly erotic. "It’s perfect, Daddy," I breathed, the words tumbling out in a rush. The thrill of submission coursed through me, a heady mix of excitement and anticipation.
Dwight leaned in, his breath warm against my ear. "Are you always this eager to follow the band backstage after a show?" His voice was a commanding rumble, the Dom tone sending shivers down my spine.
My face flushed, heat spreading across my cheeks. I stammered, playing up the starstruck groupie role. "I-I’ve dreamed of being alone with a big rock star," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. “And I hear you’re the biggest .” The words were a blend of truth and fantasy, the lines between reality and role-play blurring.
He leaned closer, his presence enveloping me. "You’re under my control now," he reminded me, his voice a low growl. The playful tease in his tone was underscored by a charged intensity, our DDlg dynamic weaving seamlessly with the groupie fantasy.
"Yes, Daddy," I moaned, the words slipping out naturally. The rock star persona he embodied was too hot to resist, the allure of submission too strong to deny. Every fiber of my being ached for him, the desire a palpable force that consumed me.
Dwight's hand cupped my cheek, his thumb tracing my bottom lip. His eyes bore into mine, a storm of lust and control swirling in their green depths. He leaned in, his lips meeting mine in a soft, slow kiss that sent electricity coursing through my veins. My heart pounded in my chest, a primal rhythm that echoed the throb between my legs.
His kiss deepened, tongue sweeping in to claim my mouth. I moaned, arching against him, the cord around my wrists biting into my skin. The reminder of my vulnerability sent a shockwave of desire crashing over me. I was at his mercy, unable to touch him, to pull him closer. The sensation was exhilarating, a high I couldn't get enough of.
Dwight's hands found the buttons of my shirt, tugging it open. The cool air of the bakery kissed my bare skin, my nipples hardening to tight peaks. He broke our kiss, his gaze dropping to my breasts. A groan rumbled in his throat, a sound so primal it made my pussy throb with need.
"Fuck, Marie," he murmured, his voice hoarse with desire. His hands cupped my breasts, thumbs brushing over my nipples. I gasped, squirming under his touch, my bound wrists pressing against the wall behind me. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and frustration that left me panting.
His mouth trailed down my jawline, nibbling gently. Each kiss, each nip sent jolts of pleasure straight to my core. I arched my back, pressing my breasts closer to his touch. A whimper escaped my lips, a plea for more.
"Dwight," I moaned, the rockstar fantasy blurring with reality. "I'll do anything to be your favorite fan."
He chuckled, a low, sexy sound that vibrated against my skin. His hands dropped to my waist, fingers digging into my flesh. "You're such a naughty little groupie, aren't you?" he murmured, his voice slipping into that Daddy tone that made my knees weak.
I nodded, my breath coming in short gasps. "Yes, Daddy," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "I'm your naughty little groupie."
His hand slipped from my waist, tracing a path down to my ass. He squeezed, a playful threat in his touch. "You know what happens to naughty little groupies, don't you?" he teased, his voice a low growl.
I shook my head, a smile playing on my lips. "No, Daddy," I replied, my voice innocent. "What happens to naughty little groupies?"
He leaned in, his lips brushing against my ear. "Whatever I want to happen to them," he whispered, his voice a dark promise.
A shiver ran down my spine, a mix of excitement and fear. I was playing with fire, but I didn't care. I wanted to burn. I wanted to feel everything he had to give.
"Then do whatever you want, Daddy," I pleaded, my voice a desperate whimper. "I'm yours."
The cord around my wrists was a constant reminder of my surrender, biting into my skin just enough to make me feel alive. Dwight's eyes, those deep green pools, searched mine with an intensity that made my heart pound. He wasn't just the rockstar now; he was my Daddy, my protector, my everything.
"You okay, baby girl?" he murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down my spine. I loved the way he was checking in with me. I nodded, my breath hitching as he carefully helped me to my knees. The floor of the bakery was hard and cool beneath me, a stark contrast to the heat coursing through my veins.
He stood before me, his presence commanding, and slowly unbuttoned his pants.
My mouth went dry as he pushed them down, revealing his hard cock. I licked my lips, anticipation building in my core. He wrapped his hand around himself, stroking gently before guiding his cock to my lips.
"Open wide for Daddy," he murmured, a smirk playing on his lips. I eagerly complied, parting my lips and taking him into my mouth. His taste was addictive, a mix of salt and musk that made me crave more.
He groaned as I took him deeper, the sound sending vibrations through me. I hollowed out my cheeks and sucked harder, using my tongue to swirl around the head of his cock.
Dwight's hand went to the back of my head, gently guiding me in a rhythm that he controlled. I could feel him getting harder and thicker in my mouth, his breathing becoming more erratic.
A moan escaped me, primal and deep. I almost gagged, but the sensation only heightened my arousal. He tasted of salt and musk, a heady combination that made me hunger for more. I sucked him deeper, my bound wrists pressing against his thighs, anchoring me to the moment.
"That's it, baby girl," he murmured, his hand cupping my cheek. "You're doing so good." His words were a balm, soothing and encouraging. I looked up at him, my eyes meeting his, and the connection between us crackled like live wire.
He thrust gently, his hips moving in a rhythm that matched the pulsing need between my legs. I moaned again, the sound vibrating around his cock. He groaned in response, his fingers tangling in my hair.
"I'm so proud of you, Marie," he whispered, his voice raw with emotion. "You trust me so completely. You're my muse, my everything." His words sent a wave of warmth through me. I loved to hear him praise me.
I pulled back slightly, his cock slipping from my mouth with a soft pop. "I love you, Dwight," I said, my voice barely a whisper. "No matter what persona we play, it's you I surrender to." I nuzzled his thigh, his cock brushing against my cheek. "But right now, I want the rockstar to degrade me. I want you to take me, completely."
His eyes darkened, a mix of lust and love swirling in their depths. He nodded, understanding my need.
“My bottom,” I said, my voice low with lost. “I want you fuck my bottom.”
"I'll give you what you want, baby girl," he promised, his voice a low growl. "I'll take you like no one else ever has."
He lifted me, bent me over a table. Dwight's hand, firm and reassuring, rested on the small of my back, his other hand spreading something slick and cool between my ass cheeks. I shivered, a moan escaping my lips. This was really happening. I was bent over a table in the backroom of the bakery, hands bound behind my back, completely at his mercy.
"That's it, baby girl," Dwight murmured, his voice a low rumble. "You're being such a good little groupie slut for me."
A thrill shot through me at his words. It was so wrong, so dirty, but I loved it. I loved the degradation, the submission. I loved being his.
His finger circled my tight hole, slowly working the lube into me. I gasped at the intrusion, a slight burn accompanying the intense pleasure. He was gentle, but firm, pushing me just beyond my comfort zone. I trusted him completely.
"You love this, don't you?" he asked, his voice a low growl. "You love being my little groupie slut."
"Yes, Daddy," I panted, my cheeks flushing with heat. "I love it."
He leaned down, his breath hot on my ear. "That's my good girl." His voice was soft, tender. "You know I love you, right? You're my own personal groupie. I don't need anyone else."
His words sent a wave of warmth through me. This wasn't just about the role-play, the dirty talk. It was about us, our connection. I nodded, a small smile playing on my lips. "I know, Dwight. I love you too."
He pressed a kiss to my shoulder, his finger slowly pushing into me. I moaned, my body relaxing, accepting the intrusion. It felt strange, foreign, but oh so good.
"Please," I begged, my voice barely a whisper. "Please fuck me, Daddy."
He straightened, his hand leaving my back. I heard the sound of his zipper, the rustle of cloth. Then, his cock was there, pressing against me. I took a deep breath, willing myself to relax.
He pushed in slowly, a low groan escaping his lips. I gasped, the sensation of him filling me, stretching me, almost too much to bear. But I wanted it. I wanted him.
"Daddy," I moaned, my bound hands clenching into fists. "Oh, Daddy."
He gripped my hips, his fingers digging into my flesh. He began to move, slow, steady thrusts that sent waves of pleasure crashing through me. It was intense, overwhelming, but I loved every second of it.
"You're mine, Marie," he growled, his hips moving faster. "All mine."
The room was a symphony of sensation. The cool table beneath me, the heat of Dwight's body behind me, the pressure building inside me, coiling tighter and tighter. His cock filled me completely, every thrust sending shockwaves through my system. I was a live wire, sparking and ready to blow.
"Daddy," I gasped, my cheek pressed against the smooth metal. His fingers dug into my hips, holding me steady as he claimed me, owned me. I was his, completely and utterly.
Then, his hand snaked around my hip, fingers finding my clit. My body jolted like I'd been struck by lightning. "Oh, fuck," I whimpered, my bound wrists twisting against the small of my back. The cord bit into my skin, a grounding pain amidst the storm of pleasure.
"You like that, little groupie?" Dwight's voice was a low rumble, a thunderroll before the storm. He circled my clit, his cock driving into me with a steady, relentless rhythm. "You like being fucked by your rock star fantasy?"
I could barely think, let alone speak. "Yes, Daddy," I managed to moan. " Yes, oh god, yes."
His fingers picked up speed, matching the pace of his thrusts. I was caught in a whirlwind, sensation spinning me higher and higher. The table creaked beneath us, the room filled with the sounds of our fucking, our heavy breaths, my desperate moans.
"Come for me, baby girl," Dwight growled. His fingers pinched my clit, his cock slammed into me. "Come all over my fingers like a good little groupie slut."
His words were crude, dirty, perfect. They sent me spiraling over the edge. My orgasm hit me like a freight train, a tidal wave crashing through me. I screamed, my body convulsing, my bound wrists pressing against his chest as he leaned over me, his hips pumping furiously.
"Fuck, Marie," he groaned, his body tensing as he came, pulsing inside my ass. His arms wrapped around me, holding me tight as we rode out the storm together.
I collapsed onto the table, my body still trembling with the aftershocks of pleasure. Dwight slumped beside me, his chest heaving, a satisfied grin spreading across his face. The bakery’s backstage area, usually filled with the scent of fresh bread and pastries, now carried the musk of our shared passion. I couldn’t help but laugh, the sound bubbling up from deep within me.
“Never thought I’d be doing something like this in a place that sells croissants,” I said, my voice still breathless.
Dwight chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Yeah, let’s hope the customers don’t notice any ‘groupie footprints’ tomorrow morning.”
I glanced around the dimly lit room, the shadows dancing with the remnants of our heated encounter. The reality of what we’d just done settled over me like a warm blanket, comforting and exhilarating all at once. This was more than just a role-play; it was a testament to our trust, our connection.
Dwight reached out, his fingers gently tracing the curve of my cheek, then unwrapped the mic cord from my wrists. “You okay, baby girl?” he asked, his voice soft and tender.
I nodded, my heart swelling with emotion. “More than okay. That was . . . incredible.”
He pulled me into his lap, his arms wrapping around me protectively. I rested my head on his shoulder, feeling the steady beat of his heart against my ear. His fingers threaded through my hair, the gentle strokes soothing and grounding.
“You know,” I began, my voice barely above a whisper, “I never thought I’d find someone who gets me like you do. Someone who can make me feel so . . . alive.”
Dwight’s chest rumbled with a contented sigh. “I feel the same way, Marie. You bring out the best in me, even when we’re playing these crazy games.”
I giggled, pressing a soft kiss to his neck. “Speaking of games, think we can do this again sometime?”
He leaned back slightly, looking down at me with that warm, Daddy Dom gaze that made my heart flutter. “Anytime you want, baby girl. Anytime you want to be my adoring fan, I’ll put on a private concert just for you.”
I snuggled closer, my body molding to his. The bakery’s quiet hum enveloped us, a gentle reminder of the world outside our little bubble of bliss. But in that moment, nothing else mattered. It was just us, living out our fantasies one playful step at a time.
“I love you, Dwight,” I murmured, the words slipping out effortlessly.
He pressed a kiss to the top of my head, his voice filled with emotion. “I love you too, Marie. More than you’ll ever know. With you, the whole world feels like music.”
And there we stayed, cuddled up in the afterglow, our hearts full and our souls intertwined. And even though it was quiet, I swore the I could hear music, sweet and clear, somewhere nearby. The music of home. The music of happiness.
THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!