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Princess:
It started with a contract. A thick, detailed document that spelled out everything I was agreeing to. One month. Full submission. No limits. Every clause crafted by Daddy himself, worded with such precision it made my skin prickle.
We sat across from each other in his office, the space quiet but heavy with tension. His gaze never left mine as I signed my name. The ink barely dried before I felt it — I belonged to him now.

Daddy:
I watched my Princess carefully. The way her breath hitched on the last page. The slight shake in her fingers. She was excited, nervous, already soaking in the gravity of what she was handing over.
Her time. Her body. Her obedience. All mine.
But I didn’t touch her. Not yet. Anticipation is a powerful thing, and my Princess was going to learn that very quickly.

Princess:
He sent me out immediately. Not to his bedroom, but to an appointment he had made weeks ago. Aesthetician. Massage. Waxing. Softening. I was to be shaped, smoothed, scented exactly as Daddy desired.
Everything was tailored. From the oil used on my skin to the exact way I was to be waxed. There was no guesswork. Just instructions.
I came back changed. Every inch of me made perfect for him.

Daddy:
She looked divine. Smooth where I wanted smooth. Glossed and glowing like she’d just been unwrapped. She stood before me, silent, unsure. But I knew what that silence meant.
She was waiting. Ready. Desperate to be claimed.

Princess:
The first outfit he gave me was silk, so sheer I was embarrassed to walk in it. But Daddy didn’t give me time to protest. He watched me change, watched me squirm, and then tore it off my body like it was made of paper.
I gasped. He smiled. It was the first of many.

Daddy:
I dressed her up only to undress her my way. Every outfit chosen not just for how it looked, but for how it would fall apart in my hands. Some I ripped. Some I pulled loose slowly, thread by thread, button by button.
Princess learned that with Daddy, there was no hiding. I wanted everything. I took everything.

Princess:
The days took on a rhythm. Wake, serve, submit. I prepared his coffee while plugged. I cleaned the house with his hands on my hips, teasing, taking. I bent at the waist mid-task whenever he wanted me.
He would whisper instructions in my ear. Sometimes soft, sometimes growled. I never questioned.
He made every part of my day an act of submission. Even the quiet ones.

Daddy:
She worked hard. I rewarded her harder.
I made her edge before meetings. Sit on my lap during calls. Lick her release from my fingers when she came for me.
She had rules. She broke some. I made sure she remembered the consequences.
But more than anything, I made her feel cherished — desired beyond words.

Princess:
He never forgot to praise me. Not once. After every command, every scene, every delicious moment of filth, he’d bring me close and whisper how proud he was.
He didn’t just use me. He saw me. The way I craved to be seen.
And the deeper I sank into obedience, the more he worshipped the surrender.

Daddy:
My Princess glowed by the second week. Her eyes softer. Her lips more parted. Her body tuned to my every touch. I didn’t need to speak sometimes — she just knew.
I marked her with my hands, my mouth, my scent. I fed her my hunger and made her feel safe inside it.
At night, she curled into me like a perfect knot. And I never let her go.

Princess:
He owned my mornings, my nights, my in-betweens.
One day he tied me with satin, blindfolded me, and made me count every stroke of his fingers. I lost count at twelve. He didn’t stop until I begged.
But when I cried, overwhelmed and full of him, he kissed my cheeks and rocked me gently.
He took everything. But gave more.

Daddy:
She needed everything I gave her. The discipline. The intensity. The care.
My Princess was insatiable, not just for the touch, but for the surrender. She bloomed under my dominance like a flower opening to the sun.
And I devoured her like I’d waited a lifetime to taste it.

Princess:
By the third week, I stopped thinking. I just felt.
He had trained me so well. I could sense his mood by the way his fingers brushed my arm. I knew when to kneel. When to moan. When to obey without hesitation.
And when he praised me, called me his good girl, his perfect Princess… I melted every time.

Daddy:
She didn’t need permission to fall apart anymore. I gave her the space to unravel.
I taught her how to scream for me. How to beg in whispers. How to offer herself like a gift I’d already unwrapped.
And she gave herself completely.

Princess:
It was more than sex. More than service. It was a kind of devotion I never knew existed.
Daddy saw every part of me. My body. My desires. My broken bits. And he held them all without flinching.
I didn’t just give him my body. I gave him my trust. My truth. My everything.

Daddy:
And she gave it so sweetly.
Every bruise she wore for me, every sigh, every obedient glance — they weren’t just acts of submission. They were declarations.
My Princess had become my obsession. And I, hers.

Princess:
The final night came. I knew the contract said no contact after the month ended. But I also knew what we had couldn’t just disappear.
I curled into him, spent, aching, marked inside and out. He held me like he didn’t want to let go.
Neither did I.

Daddy:
I watched her sleep one last time. Her skin glowing with everything we had become.
I kissed her shoulder. I whispered her name. And I promised silently,
“This isn’t goodbye.”

Both:
One month. No limits. No regrets.
And eleven months later…
The new contract waits on the desk.
Only this time, there’s a collar with her name on it.
Apparently you have a knack for writing. I’m so pleased I helped to encourage you to “publish” in the forums. Another lovely piece
I need this is my life but forever, a month wouldn’t be enough.
Great writing x
2 hours ago, asdfhpgasm said:
Change orders ?

How do you mean?

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