Disclaimer- the following is a work of fiction, intended solely for the entertainment of adults. It is not intended to endorse, inspire, or condone, any criminal act, any type of abuse be it physical, sexual, or emotional, or any kind of coercive behavior. Enjoy.
Cynthia
Part 1-
“My parents are such jerks” Cynthia typed, addressing her sole remaining online playmate. “They don’t understand me at all. They say it’s ‘tough love’ but it’s really just wanting to put me in a box so they don’t have to deal with me. They’re mean all the time.”
“What’s the argument about, BabyGirl?” The man she’d first known as ‘Hunter93’ but now knew as David, and addressed only as ‘Daddy’, wrote in reply.
“They say if I’m not back in school and living in the dorms in the Fall, they’re going to start charging me rent. So it’s a choice between waste my life being blah-blahed at and learning boring stuff, or waste my life flipping burgers for minimum wage. Either way, please kill me now.” Cynthia puffed her lower lip out petulantly as she tapped the keys harder than necessary.
“I think we can find a better solution than me killing you, so let’s put a pin in that. And you could get a better, or least more lucrative, job than flipping burgers. You could strip, maybe. You’d like the attention, wouldn’t you?”
“Daddy, do you really think I’m pretty enough that men would pay to look at me?” Cynthia was instantly wet at the thought. Her Daddy always knew the kinds of things to say that would brighten her mood and make her feel all squishy.
“You might have to lose a little more weight first,” he answered, instantly dropping her like a meteor from the feeling of elation she’d just had. “but you can manage that by Fall if you keep following the diet I gave you. Your face is nothing special, but the men in those places don’t really care about that. Your tits are decent and that’s enough.”
“Yes, Daddy. I understand.” Cynthia struggled not to weep in frustration. Daddy was always kind, but also unflinchingly honest. Where other men had always tried to flatter her and act like she was perfect, babbling nonsense about how beautiful she was, David was measured and thoughtful, giving her ways to improve, clear guidelines on how to please him, how to make herself better. The fact that he was so sparing with his praise made her treasure it when she earned it, and the calm and evenhanded nature of his criticism and discipline was such a stark contrast to her father’s continuous, drunken, red-faced, shoutings that she knew she deserved any rebuke he gave her, and feared disappointing him more than any physical pain a punishment might inflict.
When David found her, eighteen months earlier, she’d just been wandering around kink sites, doing little one-off role plays with whoever wanted, rarely maintaining a relationship longer than it took for one of them, usually the guy, to cum. His role plays were more articulate and imaginative than most of the others, and he was more patient with her, but most of all, between scenes he’d actually talk to her, giving first advice and then, more and more, instructions, about her day to day life. It had been at his direction, when she got the notification of academic probation after skipping a couple of exams to be online with him, that she quit school altogether. Her parents didn’t know, yet, that she actually COULDN’T go back, she’d stopped attending classes halfway through last semester and flunked out. She’d broached the idea of dropping out as a “maybe” thing, and they’d gone off like it would be the end of the world.
“I don’t know why I’m even acting like it’s a possibility,” Cynthia wrote, regretfully, “They’d never put up with me having a job like that. They’re such prudes. I’m surprised they ever managed to have me, they must have been drunk, or something.”
“With the kind of money you could make at that,” David answered, “You could afford your own place and wouldn’t need their permission. Or, maybe…. You could come live with me.”
Cynthia’s heart was suddenly pounding and she felt hot all over. All of her previous requests to even MEET Daddy in real life had been flatly denied. Part of her thought the offer couldn’t be real, that he was just being flip, or teasing her…. But Daddy never said anything he didn’t mean. She remembered when he’d sent her to the hotel to meet his friend, she hadn’t believed that, at first, either. He’d told her she was going to do it, and that she’d be happy she’d done it, afterwards. She had balked, flatly refusing. The first time she’d done that since he’d started guiding her. Cynthia had been a huge internet slut, but to that point in real life she’d only been with two men, in two encounters, adding up to a whopping total of twelve minutes of cumulative coitus. David hadn’t gotten angry at her defiance, he’d just laughed at her and said “Get back to me when you’re ready to obey.” And then he’d… gone away. He stopped talking to her, stopped answering when she messaged him. She went back to the fetish sites, trying to fill the void. She’d had to make new accounts because she’d deleted all her old ones at his instruction, and she’d seen him there, playing with other girls, giving them the attention she craved. She’d yearned for him but he’d just ignored anything she posted.
Finally, a month after he’d first brought I’d up, she’d messaged him saying “I’ll do it, Daddy.” No response. He ignored her.
The next day she’d sent “Please let me do it, Daddy. Please talk to me. I’ll do anything. I want to make you happy. Please let me, Daddy.”
He’d finally answered, coldly “Tomorrow night, Ramada Inn, Room 117, 7pm. Wear your plaid skirt, white blouse, white panties, no bra. Do whatever he wants. We’ll talk after, if he’s happy.”
So she’d gone. She’d done her best to make Daddy’s friend happy. The man hadn’t even had sex with her, just soaped her up in the bathtub while telling her how much she reminded him of his daughter. He’d cried on her shoulder, at the end. It was weird, but all she thought about the whole time was that Daddy would talk to her again.
She’d worried, going to bed that night, that maybe she hadn’t been good, since the man had cried, maybe he hadn’t wanted to have sex with her because she wasn’t pretty enough… but the next morning she’d woken to a message from Daddy saying “You’re a good girl! I’m so proud of you, BabyGirl. Xoxo.” It made her so happy she’d wished she had a tail to wag. She’d rushed to the fetish sites to delete all her accounts again. She’d vowed to herself that she’d never refuse Daddy again.
She and David didn’t ever even do “Role Plays” anymore, he just told her what to do, and she did it, in real life, sending him pictures and videos for proof. Some of the things he had her do were very enjoyable, others were terrifying, or painful, or humiliating, but all were exhilarating to some degree, and the warm rush of pleasure she got from his praise when she knew she’d really earned it was vastly more powerful than the physical discomfort and icky, dirty-inside, feeling she got from felating a stranger at a bus stop to please her Daddy. He sent her toys and things in the mail, and directed her in their use.
The first time he had sent her a link and she’d discovered one of the videos she’d made for him was online, visible to the public, she’d been horrified, humiliated, and felt betrayed. But when she asked why he had posted it he’d said “Because you were so good in it, I wanted to make all the other Daddies jealous of how special my Babygirl was.” And then she’d felt like she was floating, like everything was perfect.
“Do you really mean it, Daddy?” Cynthia typed, then deleted it without sending. Daddy ALWAYS meant what he said. Questioning that might make him angry. “I want to live with you.” She typed instead. “What do I have to do?”
“You’d have rules,” David answered, “and chores around the house, and you’d have to be a good girl, always obey, no matter what.”
“I can do that, Daddy!” Cynthia rocked back and forth in her seat in excitement, typing with one hand and absently sucking the thumb on the other. “When can I come?”
“Tomorrow afternoon,” David replied, “Before your folks get home from work. Pack all your toys, your sexy outfits and your comfy clothes, and two stuffies. No more. Don’t forget all your documents, driver’s license, birth certificate, social security card, all of that. I’ll pick you up at three.”
“I can drive to you, Daddy. Where do you live?”
“Your car is registered to your parents, BabyGirl, you can’t take it. You won’t need a car anymore, anyway.”
“I’m not going to tell my parents I’m leaving?” Cynthia was puzzled by that. “Won’t they get worried? Come looking for me?”
“We’ll leave them a note.” David told her. “You’re 19yrs old, there’s nothing wrong with you moving out. You don’t need their permission.”
“Yes, Daddy. I’ll be waiting, Daddy.”
“That’s my good BabyGirl.”
“Daddy?”
“Yes?”
“May I use my buzzer?”
“Not tonight, Sweetie. Save it for me. Go brush your teeth and get in bed, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Yes, Daddy. I love you, Daddy!”
“I know you do, BabyGirl. G’night.”
“Night, Daddy.”
