Page 3 of Daddy's Princess

Unfortunately, it has left me little to no time to focus on my personal life. Much to my mother’s chagrin. After her fourth attempt to set me up with one of her friends’ daughters, I had to put my foot down. She agreed to back off as long as I make an effort to have a life outside of the office. Which is mom-speak for ‘I’ll back off as long as you find me a daughter-in-law and give me grandkids before I’m too damn old to enjoy them.’

So, here I am, on a Monday night, drinking seltzer, watching the comings and goings in the main room of the club. I’m standing off to the side of the bar area, listening to a small group of doms talk about all the women they’ve topped. They’ve obviously been heavily drinking. Which isn’t against club rules, as long as you’re not playing. I tip my head toward Derrick, giving the group of young men a meaningful look. He gives me a nod, acknowledging that he’s watching. Derrick is a dominant and one of the many dungeon monitors that walk around during club hours, making sure everyone is playing safe, sane, and consensual. The owner, Andre, is very strict about his rules. As a dominant, you don’t get a warning or a slap on the wrist. You break one of his rules, and you’re out. Immediately.

I scan the club one more time debating on if I want to ask one of the many single submissives to play. When I first came in, I scoped out the lounge area the doms unofficially dubbed the honeypot. The main room is divided into several parts, one of which is a lounge area with lots of seating options. Its original purpose was for doms and subs to have a place to talk about limits or just get to know each other before deciding to play. Shortly after the club opened, it turned into the unofficial hangout for unattached submissives who want to play. Though there are several beautiful women laughing and chatting with their friends, waiting for a dom or domme to come ask them to play, not one of them calls to me.

I’ve just decided to call it a night when she walks into the club and practically steals the breath from my lungs. She’s absolutely stunning. Tonight is fairytale night at B&B. Almost every submissive is dressed as some version of a princess, she is the only one that looks as if she truly could be a princess.

A naughty princess.

I take in her outfit, and my cock twitches in my pants. If you could imagine Cinderella’s blue ballgown, dyed pale pink and cut almost indecently short, that would be her dress. I watch her make her way slowly from the entrance to the bar, my eyes absolutely devouring her.

She’s perfectly petite, a little over five foot, but not by much. I would tower over her. She boosts herself up on one of the barstools and says something to the bartender, making the big man laugh. Jealousy courses through my veins, hot and fast. I have no claim on this woman, and my almost visceral reaction shocks me. I have never responded to a woman in such a way.

The bartender hands her a glass with some kind of pink drink. Whatever he says sends her into a fit of giggles. I nearly crush my empty glass in my hand when the bartender reaches across the bar and fixes the little tiara that sits upon her head. Her own hand reaches up and adjusts the crown, then she gives her head a little shake causing her chestnut brown hair to shine like a waterfall down her back.

She’s fucking stunning. The bartender stops flirting and tends to his other customers. The woman turns on her stool and leans casually back against the bar. I’m about to approach her when another man beats me to it. I actually debate making a move anyway, but that’s against club etiquette.

I decide to get a refill on my drink. Perhaps something stronger. I wish I could say I went to the opposite side of the bar from where the two are chatting, but I don’t. I’m only a few feet away when I realize who is talking to the woman I can’t quit thinking of as my girl. Andre, the owner of Bidden and Bound. A little spark of hope ignites because I know Andre is unattached. I ask the bartender for another seltzer. I’m not going to ruin my chances of playing with her by drinking.

Call me an optimist.

After a few minutes, it becomes clear that she has some kind of relationship with Andre, but it seems completely platonic from their body language. Even though they are obviously affectionate, there doesn’t appear to be any chemistry between them. I catch bits and pieces of their conversation, but most of it is lost to the noisy club. My gut clenches when I hear her clearly ask, ‘Will you be my daddy?’

I don’t hear how Andre responds, but the question has me all kinds of aroused. The words play on repeat in my head, except she’s asking me. Fuck. What are the chances that the one woman I’ve been drawn to in years would be a babygirl? She’s fucking perfect.

I want her.

Derrick interrupts Andre and my brown-haired beauty. I take a step closer, shamelessly eavesdropping. I can’t hear what Derrick says, but whatever it is, Andre looks pissed. I almost feel bad for whoever is going to be on the other end of that pissed off. Derrick leaves, and Andre turns his attention back to her.

This time I can hear everything. She’s going to the dollhouse.Perfect.Even though it goes against my every instinct to sweep in and claim her attention right now, I decide to bide my time and make my way to the dollhouse. Like the rest of the club, it’s filled with subs dressed like something straight out of an X-rated fairytale. Most of the doms are dressed in suits and tuxes. One is dressed suspiciously like Peter Pan. When a blonde-haired woman wearing a short green dress and glittery fairy wings flings herself into his arms, kissing him over and over in excitement, I can totally understand why he’d dress so foolishly.

I get several nods of acknowledgment from some of the other doms who recognize me. I nod back but don’t join their group. Instead, I take up a spot against the wall where I can see the entire room. No matter where she decides to play, I’ll be able to watch.

It doesn’t take long for her to make her way into the dollhouse. Once again, I can’t take my eyes off of her. She briefly looks around the room, not paying anyone much attention. Other than a quick upwards tilting of her lips, when she notices the woman standing in the corner with a freshly spanked bottom, she takes everything in with an almost bland indifference. None of the other littles pay her a bit of attention. Which is odd. I watched several people come and go in the few minutes I’ve been in here, and she’s the only one who didn’t get an exuberant greeting from one submissive or another.

She makes her way to the only unoccupied corner of the room. I admire the smooth expanse of pale thighs that is revealed as she bends over to dig in one of the many bins along the shelves. Whatever she finds makes her happy because when she turns toward one of the big overstuffed chairs, she’s got a broad smile on her face.

I would raze cities to have her turn that beatific smile on me. I’m torn. I want to approach her before one of the other single doms in the room does, but I also want to observe her. Especially when I realize the items she grabbed are a sketchpad and pencils. Not entirely unusual for a little, but most would pick a coloring book and crayons. I’m curious enough to see what she’s going to draw to decide to hang back for a while. A quick look around the room shows that none of the other doms are paying her any attention. Odd, because she is by far the most beautiful woman in the entire club.

As her pencil moves across the paper, she gets this dreamy expression on her face. She’s completely wrapped up in whatever it is she’s drawing, and I’m utterly entranced watching her draw it.

“That one’s a lost cause,” someone says from beside me, stealing my attention away from my girl.

I narrow my eyes, giving the interloper a less than friendly look. It’s one of the drunk guys from the bar. “What’s that supposed to mean?” The guy shifts uncomfortably on his feet. He’s younger than me by at least ten years. Tall, but I’m taller. He’s muscular, but again, not like me. Whatever gave him the confidence to approach me, has completely vanished under my scrutiny. It takes a lot of self-control to school my features and maintain my hard look. “I asked you a question.”

“Oh, um… Well, we-” he points towards his small group of friends standing off to one side. All of them could be hipster clones. All of them are drunk. Not one of them has the air of a dominant, and as soon as they realize their friend has pointed them out, they all turn away, leaving their boy on his own. Disgraceful. “We noticed you watching Sugar, and since you’re new, we figured we’d tell you not to waste your time.”

“Why would I be wasting my time?” I ask curiously.

“Oh, well, she never plays with anyone. Not even the other littles. Well, except the bitchy one…” He shrugs. “I’ve been coming here for six months, and she’s turned down everyone that’s asked. It’s weird. Why bother coming to a BDSM club to just sit in a chair and doodle?”

“Why, indeed.”

I turn my attention back to my brown-haired beauty—Sugar, the hipster-wanna-be-dom had said—effectively dismissing him. It doesn’t take him long to catch the hint and takes him even less time to high tail it back to his friends. Pathetic.

Time to introduce myself.

3

---