The text alert was set to vibrate. In theory, it was because she didn’t want to interrupt the class. Finals were next week, she had to pay attention.
But in reality, she knew it was because she wanted to feel the tingle, the jolt of excitement the moment his message came in. She carefully pulled the phone out of her front pocket, and saw one message waiting. A text from “Daddy.”
It wasn’t her real Daddy. It was just someone she met online. It started off innocently enough, an almost vanilla sexting affair. But she couldn’t resist. She had to try, at least once with him. She finally worked up the nerve to call him daddy, then felt smothered by the anticipation of waiting. Every second ticked by, until finally he replied back, calling her his little girl.
She wanted to ask for more. She wanted to beg for him to call her a dirty whore, to describe her getting spanked, to tell her what to do. But she didn’t want to lose her Daddy. So she took what she could get.
Today’s text was a bit tame, a simple “What are you wearing?”