Chapter 18
Eighteen
Briana
I nearly drop my phone on the floor when a text comes in.
Daddy: Were you playing with my cunt, naughty girl?
I’m in the middle of peeing when all the blood drains from my face. Shit. Fuck. I didn’t think about the fact that teasing myself along the edges of my panties would be noticeable. Apparently, it is.
Staring at my phone, I try to come up with a plausible answer. I consider telling him I woke up this way. That I’d been dreaming about him and woke up horny. But I won’t lie to him. I can’t imagine how harshly he would punish me if I did.
Think, think, think.
I have to respond soon. Every second I hesitate makes me look more guilty. I decide to go with the truth.
Briana: I got horny taking a picture of your mark on my thigh, Daddy, and stroked the edge of my panties. I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t mean to break the rules. I promise I didn’t touch my clit or any part of my pussy directly. It was just the elastic. I’m sorry, Daddy.
I’m so fucking grateful he’s even interacting with me that whatever disciplinary action he takes will almost be worth it.
The only times he has exchanged words with me in days were commands.
Most of the time, he hasn’t even acknowledged me when I’ve sent him updates on my location or pictures of my pussy.
I’m a fucking hot mess of nerves. I definitely have some strange form of Stockholm Syndrome. What do you call it when a mysterious stalker keeps coming to your house in the night, blindfolding you, and reprogramming your mind so that you think you can’t live without him?
I’m aware that it’s fucked up. No one would do this. Not a single human. Every day, it gets more and more insane. I don’t know how I’m even passing all my classes. I should be catatonic.
Except, of course, I’m doing well in school. Daddy insists upon it. He checks every one of my assignments. He has me on such a strict schedule that I’m never behind. He makes me write papers way before they’re due and read ahead in my civics class when I’m caught up and have an extra half hour.
Normal freshmen are going out with friends, enjoying their first year of college. They meet up in the quad or go to parties or play games.
Not me. I’m under the thumb of a madman who’s dictating my every move. My roommates have probably given up on me and decided I’m not nearly as fun as they thought the day they met me. It’s probably for the best. It keeps them from asking me questions.
The truth is, they hadn’t known me very long before the incident, and since then, I’ve gradually pulled away from them.
I see them in passing. I’m polite and try to make conversation, but they must think I’m a freak since I absolutely never go out or even sit in front of the TV with them at night.
I’m in my room, following my Daddy’s orders.
This morning, I’m out of sorts. More than usual. Partly because I just got caught touching myself. Partly because I miss him so badly, and I know what I have to do to get him back.
After taking a quick shower, I finish my bathroom routine, get dressed in the long shorts and T-shirt he left me, and head for the kitchen.
This is the time of day I most often end up interacting with at least one roommate.
We don’t have the same schedules, of course, but at least two of us grab breakfast at the same time.
Today, it’s Desiree who’s eating a bowl of cereal. I paste on a cheery face as I enter. “Hey.”
“Hey, you,” she responds. “You missed an epic party last night.”
I chuckle as I pour myself some juice and grab a protein bar before joining her at the table. I’d rather leave the house and not risk small talk, but I don’t want any of them to get suspicious.
“I don’t think the party scene is my thing.” I shrug. “I hate the taste of alcohol, and it’s weird being around drunk people when you’re sober.”
“Yeah, I guess that makes sense. You’re so studious. You must be making straight A’s.”
“Hopefully. How are your classes going?” I ask to turn the subject away from me.
“Not bad. Computer science is a bitch. A TA teaches it. He’s pretty nice, I guess, but I think he’s on the spectrum. He doesn’t seem to grasp why we don’t all understand every formula as soon as he introduces it. He’s so awkward. I hope I can pass the class. I need it for a prerequisite.”
I wince. “That sucks. Maybe you can go to tutoring? They have math tutors in the lab. I went to one the first week. He was pretty nice.”
“Yeah, maybe.” She finishes the last bite of her cereal and sticks her bowl in the dishwasher. “Gotta run. I can’t miss computer science. That’s for sure. I’d be so far behind I’d never catch up.” She waves as she heads out the door.
I think that went well. It was a normal conversation. I explained why I don’t like parties. That wasn’t even a lie. The one and only party I went to gave me that exact vibe. It also landed me with a stalker who won’t leave me alone.
I’m almost late to my first class because I don’t walk fast enough. I’m dragging. Too much is going through my head. I know what I have to do, and I will do it today, but I’m loath to send the necessary text.
It’s the only way we can go forward, though.
I’ve researched anal sex for the past few days. I know it’s not that uncommon. People do it. It’s perfectly safe. But I haven’t even had regular sex in my vagina yet. Why am I being forced to skip that and worry about my butthole?
His methods are warped. Batshit. But his logic isn’t unreasonable. It would be better for him to stretch my tight hole and prepare it before he takes me with his cock.
But, fuck. Why am I having discussions about anal sex with a man who ghosts me for the most part simply because I’m scared to try it? He didn’t even give me a chance to consider his plan. He thought he could just flip me over and spring it on me.
And why have I spent three days rationalizing all this and gradually making excuses for him?
He was born this way. He can’t help it.
I should be more flexible.
If I really want to be with him, I have to see things his way.
Relationships are hard. They’re a give and take.
I’m obviously as fucked up in the head as he is.
I have just as many issues.
Submission is in my blood, even though I didn’t know it.
How will I ever find a man who understands me like he does?
The list goes on and on. I’ve thought of this from every angle. And I’ve made my decision. I can’t stand the cold shoulder. I want what I can get from him, even if it’s not conventional.
I promise myself I will stop questioning his methods. Maybe if I made better choices, he wouldn’t keep shutting me out for days at a time.
It worries me how dark the bruise is on my inner thigh. He could go two weeks without marking me someplace new. I’m sure he did that on purpose.
I’ve made my decision. I won’t go back on it. Now I just need to get through my classes.
Sliding into my desk three minutes before civics, I send him a text letting him know where I am. He doesn’t respond. I don’t expect him to. He hasn’t responded to my running list for days. He’s punishing me. And I’m being pigheaded about it.
I know how to end this. I will. Today.
Somehow, I make it through my classes, and I nearly run back to my house to get comfortable in my room.
I climb onto my bed and take my time writing my text.
Rushing to get here has bought me some extra minutes.
He’ll be expecting me to check in, but not this early.
Finally, after reading and rereading the text, I hit send.
Briana: I’m sorry for my disobedience the other night.
I’ve thought a lot about it, and you’re right.
I need you. You make me a better person.
I wouldn’t be getting straight A’s if it weren’t for your help.
You spend a lot of time making sure I’m safe, healthy, and organized.
I’m grateful for everything you do for me.
It’s wrong of me to question your methods.
You know what’s best for me. Without you, I make poor choices.
I need guidance and structure. I promise to do better in the future.
I deserved your belt. I know you will always punish me when I step out of line.
It helps me learn to do better. I can’t promise I won’t make mistakes.
I’m sure I will, and I will accept your discipline when I need correcting.
Will you please accept my apology and train my bottom so that I’ll be prepared to take your cock in my tight ass as soon as you decide it’s time?
I will go to bed with my pillows tucked under my stomach, my bottom in the air for your use.
I’ll do so every night until you think I’ve earned your attention.
I won’t complain. I’ll be patient and wait for you.
Thank you for being the best Daddy in the world.
My heart races while I stare at the message. I don’t expect him to respond. But a girl can hope.
Suddenly, I realize I didn’t tell him that I had made it home. I quickly shoot off another text.
Briana: I’m at home, Daddy. I’ll eat the apple you left out for me and start my math homework now.
There’s still no response, but I feel lighter. A weight I’ve been carrying has lifted. I’ve done the right thing. I owed him an apology, and I did the best I could. The ball is in his court. But the ball has always been in his court, hasn’t it?
I’m so lucky I met him that night. I know it was sort of an accident, but he told me he picked me out while he was jogging one morning. He must have seen something in me before he followed me to that party. I bet he chose me to be his freshman prank before he ever left the house that night.
He thinks I’m special. No one has ever thought I’m special before.
He’s shown me that I have needs I was unaware of. He’s taught me that it’s so nice to have a Daddy keep track of me and guide me. I don’t have to worry about a thing because he handles everything for me.
It’s so much easier to do the right things with someone else knowing what’s best for me and providing me with a schedule and rules. It’s a relief, really. I’m a better person since I met him.
There is the tiny little sidenote that I really have not exactly met him. I don’t know his name or where he lives. My only contact with him is on his terms. But I know he’s always there. Always thinking about me. Even when I misbehave.
It may be unconventional, but we fit together.
I know we do. So I smile as I sit at my desk and open my math book.
I’ve done all I can. Now I just have to be patient and wait for Daddy.
He’ll come to me when he feels the time is right.
I’ll be ready and waiting. I won’t complain.
I won’t sass him. I will accept his methods because I have no other choice. I need him.