This is my first time writing a non-fiction from my own perspective tale so be gentle. This is from my first experience with my {new to me} Dom/Daddy. I’m posting this at his request. I’m a little apprehensive but good girls always do what their daddies ask.
The hotel room is small. Nothing special. Everything about it is dated, from the small TV on the dresser to the pattern of the chair in the corner. Not that I care. And not that he does, I assume. He gives the room a once over, peering into the bathroom and around. He makes a comment on the room, something about it being nicer than rooms he’s paid more than double for. I’m quiet. Nervous.
He walks over to me and backs me up to the wall. He runs a finger along the hem of my dress. He’s happy with how well I’ve followed his instructions. I look up to him, we’re maybe millimetres apart but he doesn’t kiss me. He knows I want it, and he withholds.