Daddy’s Lunch Break

After Nina’s recent birthday, an evening that will live in my fond memories bank for some time to come, I have started to notice that she is becoming more demanding in breaking our previously agreed structure, from two meets a month, we seem to be meeting weekly.

We haven’t seen each other for nearly 10 days, which is unusual, but she’s been on study leave before a big exam and unfortunately I’ve been mad busy.

So last week, when I was booked to be in London for a two-day legal conference I didn’t absolutely have to go to, thoughts turned to seeing my little girl, when I got a text from Nina that simply read,

“Study leave – daddy I’m bored x”

Normally if Nina became too demanding whilst I was at work, she’d get a curt reply, but the great weather we’ve been having made me less of a 8-6 grouch than usual. What else to do, but seize the day…

Within 20 mins I was in a cab to my gym to collect some things from my locker and within an hour I had checked into our favourite hotel on Park Lane.

I sat on the bed of an outrageously large room, benefit of having a corporate account is that I always get upgraded to a junior suite, tapping out a text to Nina…

“1 hour, an envelope in yr name at XXX Hotel desk”

I went over to the desk and pulled out a piece of the hotel’s beautifully printed notepaper and pulled out my pen….”Room 511, go in, be in position on the bed and wait for daddy”. I slipped in a key card and sealed the envelope.

I took the lift down to reception and handed the envelope to the receptionist, telling her that a colleague would be here in an hour to collect it and went off to the one of the two bars in the hotel, the one that has a direct view of the main entrance, found an anonymous corner and ordered a drink.

One of the things I love most about Nina is that she is never late (see previous posts!)…bang on 1, I saw my beautiful, elegant little walk confidently through the revolving doors and up to the reception desk.

Game on.

Now, people who don’t understand the beauty of dominance and submission have no idea how sexy making your sub, or little, wait can be.

As the minutes ticked by, my mind reflected back to what else I had done before I left the room. On the bed I had left three things. A note, a blindfold and one of her birthday presents, a metal butt plug.

I think you’re probably getting the picture.

By now it was 10 past 1, I wouldn’t leave until quarter past.

Within 2 mins of leaving the bar I was at the door of our room, it opened into a darkness relieved only by a soft light coming from the bathroom, just as I’d left it. With one difference, there was now a beautiful, naked woman on all-fours on the bed, with her arse in the air, the silver shine of a jewelled butt plug clearly defined against her beautiful black bottom..

The door clicked shut behind me and I noticed a definite wobble in Nina as she shifted uneasily on the bed.

Anticipation is all. As Nina’s imagination worked overtime in the total blackness behind the blindfold, I set to work.

I had laid out my tools on an ottoman by the window, a crop, a rubber paddle and a flogger.

I started with the crop, taps around her gorgeous full arse, down the back of her legs, each becoming slightly crueller, as the flick increased.

I gestured with the crop for her to push her kneeling legs apart, she obeyed immediately.

I spoke for the first time, “Nina, daddy had a busy day today and didn’t appreciate his little princess needing fucking like some common whore”

She mumbled “I’m sorry daddy”

I turned back to the ottoman and picked up the ball gag and gathering her long hair, reached underneath and tightened the leather buckle. Next I fastened her ankles to a spreader bar and moving a pillow down for her head, as I fastened her wrists to the same bar.

This had the effect of raising her arse higher in the air.

Through the gag Nina emitted a soft moan.

I set back to work with the crop, harder and harder, then started slapping it against her bald cunt, the moans became more and more urgent.

“My little slut must learn that daddy only punishes her to make her better”

A nod and a louder moan as the crop impacted with full force on her beautiful black cunt.

I had been working on her for at least 30 mins and her reaction to each stroke was electric. I switched from the slap of the crop, to my hand, to a fiendish rubber paddle, then a leather flogger.

Nina was flying. Now time for some pleasure.

My fingers pushed into her wet cunt, slowly, but forcefully. Her back arched and her arse pushed down onto my hand, then in slipped a third finger.

My fingers were working her g-spot, I knew what I wanted to achieve and within 20 seconds she started shaking uncontrollably. moaning as if the gag wasn’t there, then wetness run down my wrist as she gushed onto my hand. An amazingly hot moment.

I grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked her head back….”daddy thinks his little girl should be studying, not acting like a common slut”

I removed the gag and moved up with my back on the headboard, as I sank forward Nina knew what to do, her mouth opened wide and hungrily sank onto my cock.

I was spent within a few blissful minutes.

The scene over, I checked in with her, all good.

Unbound, we lay cuddling, her putting her head on my chest as I stroked her hair, only moving to get the door for room service bringing us tea.

Within an hour I was back in Holborn, in a meeting to discuss an upcoming German project. I had to read the minutes several times after to remind myself what was discussed.

My mind was definitely not in the room.

Nina’s Birthday

Several weeks of daddy/little adventures have passed since I last wrote about life with Nina, work has been hectic, but Nina and I have managed to meet once a week at least and I’ve not had so much fun for a long time.

As we hurtled into May, I was conscious of a serious daddy opportunity looming large on the horizon, Nina’s birthday.

Fortunately it coincided with a week that saw Mrs LSD take her annual pilgrimage to the Highlands of Scotland to visit her parents, so I had 2 or 3 days free to entertain Nina.

My plan was simple. Tuesday night we would eat in a private dining club I know in Mayfair, then on Weds morning we’d drive out of the city to a spa in the Surrey countryside for the night. Nina could have the full-on spa treatment and emerge beautifully waxed and buffed. Sound plan.

Tuesday lunchtime arrived and I got the usual pre-date text from Nina,

“Daddy, am I to wear panties tonight?”

An easy reply for what I had in mind – “No panties”

We met just after 7 at one of our favourite bars, which is just round the corner from the restaurant. I love spotting Nina before she sees me, she was in my favourite red dress, figure hugging, but not too revealing. It sets off her dark skin perfectly, which seemed to glow in the evening sunshine.

I was bursting to see her.

The bar was already busy, that Tuesday was the first sunny day in London after what seemed like weeks and there was a tangible feeling of collective joy in the air, a realisation that summer’s on the way.

We did what we always do, I gently kissed her cheek and as I did she whispered into my ear “Hello daddy” 

The work de-stress then followed, I listened as Nina told me a sad story about a client that had lost an immigration appeal and looked like being deported after which, my day, which involved sacking a temp, seemed rather dull.

Drinks finished, we headed off. The dining club was recommended to me by a wealthy friend that I was at uni with. It’s very old money and operates a strict membership policy, which fortunately my friend was able to fix for me.

As we arrived we were offered a choice between Crystal or Dom Perignon champagne, this was not shaping up to be a reasonably priced evening….

Then the highlight, our private dining room. Our overly officious French maitre d’ opened the door to a very small, beautifully decorated room, with a large red velvet bench that ran round the room in a semi-circle, enveloping the table.

“Sir, tonight we have our six course tasting menu and matched wines, my colleague here will be serving you, however, if for any reason you do not wish to be disturbed, please press this button”

I looked to my left to see a small brass switch, marked “Privacy”, I guess this was a regular venue for some high end, confidential business and I had some of my own…

The food was sublime and the Michelin stars certainly earned, but Nina and I were beginning to find it a distraction. After the waiter had left us, she turned and whispered into my ear,

“I want to make daddy happy now”

Now, usually I would have been only too happy to be falling back into the padded comfort of the banquette and letting Nina’s gorgeous mouth take over, but no, it was her birthday and I was going to make it memorable…

We started kissing and I started to slide my hand between her legs, until I reached her beautiful, bare cunt.

She gasped a little into my ear those two words that when so breathlessly uttered, make me hard in seconds “Oh, daddy”

Nina was so warm and wet that my fingers slipped in easily and within a few seconds she had fallen back onto the banquette and was slipping into a trance of sheer pleasure.

Now, Nina is a very vocal lover and whilst we were guaranteed no interruptions from the staff, I didn’t want the whole building to know we were fucking, so in a flash, I picked up her napkin, rolled it around in my free hand and made an improvised ball gag.

“Daddy’s little girl needs to stop sounding like a slut” and with that, in it went, she seemed surprised, but bit down on it and closed her eyes.

In a matter of moments, with my fingers still working furiously, she came hard and as she did, the magical moans of my very satisfied lover, though slightly muffled, were enough for me to know that private dining was a seriously sexy option.

“Nina, daddy wants you to take him in your mouth and he wants you to make him cum like the whore you are”

As always, Nina went to work with enthusiasm bordering on the demented, in no time, we were both spent.

I flicked the privacy switch off and moments later a waitress appeared, “Would you like to choose a pudding?”

We looked at each other and giggled….

The Office Party

As mentioned before, the Christmas diary has begun closing in and my opportunities for fun before my family incarceration were disappearing fast.

So, the chance of a night out with May was a genuine bolt of good fortune, given that I’m between SBs.

Loyal readers may recall that May, a regular SB from times past, was now based in the North, but that we had a fabulous evening the last time she was in London.

So, Thursday was looming, I’d told May I was free, but then realised that, er, I wasn’t, well, totally.

Thursday was the one night of the year I dread the most, the office party.

As a partner, there was no way I could not go, the senior partner gives a speech, telling us what a good/bad/spectacular (delete as appropriate) year we’ve had etc, etc.

I then have to watch the various younger members of staff get truly shitfaced, some disappear off to the loos to fuck, some to get some charlie in, then they head off, like a herd, to some fucking awful club.

So, if I was to get quality time with May, some tactical fibbing would be needed.

I had arranged to meet her at 9pm, we were going to have a fishy supper at my favourite Mayfair restaurant (well, it is Christmas 😉 ), I planned for us to then head straight for a room I’d booked at a place on Park Lane. I was determined that if this was my last adventure before Christmas, it was going to be memorable.

The party was being held at one of those ‘venues’ in the West End, as always the senior partner’s PA books it and she’s a young woman of very little sophistication.

There were over 100 of us crammed into a function room, the champagne was being effortlessly dispensed and the atmosphere was pretty relaxed, it seemed that most of London was having an office party judging by the streets full of people heading out from work.

After an hour or so, the senior partner did his 5 min oration, telling us how well we’d done and how well 2015 was shaping up. I then took my chance, I got his ear with a story about how one of my little angels was poorly and Mrs LSD was at her wit’s end, would he mind if I headed home? ‘Of course not, do give X my love’.

With that I was flying out the door and in a cab within moments, heading to dinner.

I arrived in the nick of time, a couple of minutes before May.

We had a truly amazing evening, oysters, the most amazing fish and nothing but champagne. Since the summer she’s been promoted and has started seeing someone, but he’s not interested in fulfilling her kink, so, hey, could I?

The dinner flew by and before too long we were in a gorgeous room overlooking Park Lane

I enjoyed delivering her a very sore arse and darling May was in heaven, as was I, remembering what a sublime blowjob giver she is.

A memorable night.

Happy Christmas one and all…

 

 

Cleo gets the Call

I’m writing this on a Friday afternoon, I’m at 35,000 ft on a squeakily efficient Lufthansa flight from Frankfurt back to Heathrow, it’s been a busy morning of meetings, made slightly more wearing as I was up fucking Cleo to 2am this morning….

This flight’s busy, fortunately I’m sitting in Business and I’m making the most of a large gin & tonic as I tap out this account of last night.

Cleo and I arranged to meet at her favourite restaurant, Roka in Charlotte Street. I was positively looking forward to seeing her, the last few days had been a bit difficult and I found myself daydreaming about my Sugarbabe more often than usual.

We arrived virtually at the same moment, she was stunning in a short tight green dress and a gorgeous pair of beige Kurt Geiger heels, I had a positive thrill as I followed her past a table of pissed-up guys, who clocked her immediately.

Seated in a quiet corner, I ordered champagne and we immediately connected, just as we always do.

Then came the news, she’d got the part she’d been auditioning for and would be based in the North for a 12 week stint, performing in her first proper role. I was delighted for her.

We were having one of those serious conversations where the overly-attentive waiting staff just become simply irritating.

She wanted to continue to see me, but could I also come and visit her, though she understood if that wasn’t possible. She then told me that it was understandable if I wanted to end our arrangement.

I thought about this and told her that I would try to make it work, but that it might be tricky.

I really was pleased for her, but knew that this was going to be difficult. So, what to do?

I decided the best play was to enjoy the moment, so I made sure we did.

After a dinner that was charged with a certain amount of foreboding, I decided that the best way to deal with this was to give Cleo something to remember us by.

We were staying nearby at the recently refurbished Berners Street Hotel, a recent addition to London’s booming catalogue of chic locations.

After a cocktail in the fabulous bar, we headed for bed.

I had decided that Cleo needed something a bit edgy that night and after telling her to strip, I commenced to tie her up into a wonderfully complex arrangement of rather tidy ropework.

There then followed 2 hours of the horniest fucking in my life. I alternated candle and ice play on her that had her coming so loudly I had no option but to gag her 😉

By the end I was feeling completely drained and it was a relief, in all senses, to fuck her mouth as she lay bound to the bed.

As I untied her and we arranged ourselves in each other’s arms, I had this feeling that this was the last date I’d have with Cleo.

One for the Road

The dreaded day of departure to join Mrs LSD in Greece has finally arrived.

Family holidays are an ideal that seldom matches the reality and whilst a week in a villa in Greece with Mrs LSD and the two little ones is one thing, sharing your villa with another family is quite another.

Anna and her husband Rufus could represent England at drinking. Which would be fine if they were childless, but sadly they’re not, sadly for their children that is.

A typical North Oxford academic couple with a drink problem and two brattish children. I’m already filled with horror, remembering that it falls on my wife and I to look after their little ones when they rise, usually about 7ish, which is several hours before their parents are likely to greet the day.

How to prepare myself for this hellish holiday? Only one thing, see Cleo.

I’m writing this in the first class lounge at Gatwick (all those business miles had to pay off sometime), as I wait to board my plane the morning after a fabulous night, I’m smiling, relaxed and ready to face my Greek torture.

Here’s why….

After our adventure earlier this week, we agreed to meet up last night, before we’re both away from each other for a fortnight.

We talked late into the night about the things that excite both of us and what she wanted to try with me.

Whilst Cleo had experience of spanking before, she always wanted to try being restrained and so I told her to do a bit of research and come back with a kind of red/amber/green list.

Into my inbox the next day popped the list.

I scanned down it, there was quite a lot in the green and amber lists and a few things in the red list that don’t do it for me either; needles, strangling, that sort of edgy stuff.

So, as we’d already sorted out a safe word, we were good to go.

I’ve had a lot of experience over the years with rope bondage and have a handy bag full of useful items, including various lengths of red, silky rope.

So, armed with these, a sensible accessory in the form of paramedic’s scissors, a candle and a crop, I was well-equipped to push Cleo’s boundaries.

We were back from dinner to our hotel by half 9, it was a beautiful junior suite, free upgrades always excite me…

I began by gagging Cleo with a ball gag, then set to work creating a chest rig.

With her breasts squeezed between the folds of rope, I then bound her hands to each ankle.

Now it was playtime.

After letting her see the ropework, I decided it was time to take away a sense and blindfolded her.

Then I just stood and waited. And then waited a bit more.

By now I could sense she was becoming a little uneasy and that her imagination was busy filling the void.

I began with a broad, leather paddle, which always gives a very satisfying impact, she flinched and visible strained against her binds.

After a good dozen I stopped, by the end she was straining against the rope and biting down hard on the gag, I then lit my candle. I wanted her to recognise the click of a lighter, then for her imagination to start playing its games again.

However, I was not finished with her gorgeous arse yet and restarted on her with a crop, working my way to her sweet spot, inside her thighs and then onto her pussy. By now she was really warmed up. I ran my fingers over her pussy and leaned in to her ear to whisper,

“Daddy is very cross with you Cleo, you are very wet, just like the slut I took you for”

I removed her blindfold and the look in her eyes was incredible. I then brought up the candle (I’d tested the wax on myself before removing the blindfold – a scalded SB is never good), and began criss-crossing her breasts with liquid red wax, every drop elicited another moan.

Within a few minutes her breasts and nipples were covered, I then grabbed tightly hold of the chest rig and firmly pushed her onto her back.

I moved my aim down to her pussy, the wax running down her reddened, engorged folds, all the while she became more and more excited, then drops began running on to her clit and she was away…

I worked her with my fingers as she came, once, then twice. I removed the gag, to enjoy hearing her letting out a delicious moan.

“Daddy’s going to fuck you now”

“Please” was all she could manage to say.

And I did.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Spanking and Fucking

August really is the pits, well, work-wise.

All of the CEO’s I deal with are on vacation, so are half my staff, it seems impossible to get anything done.

On the plus side, the weather in London this summer has been unusually good and my sugar relationship with Cleo has benefited tremendously, I mean, meeting up after work at rooftop bars in the sunshine really does give your evening a sexy start.

So, along came our most recent date, on a particularly warm and gorgeous Tues evening in London town.

It had been a warm day by London standards and I arranged to meet Cleo at a rooftop bar in the Aldwych, Radio.

I arrived a little late, but Cleo was cool about it. That said, I was a bit grumpy when I got there, some crap I’d had to deal with just before I left the office.

Now, I’ve already noticed that Cleo has a slightly arsey side and when she’s angling for a hard spanking I’ve noticed how she will deliberately, yet subtly, wind me up.

With just certain things she does, she’ll try to get a rise out of me and the first was staring me in the face.

First of all, you have to know that in my quest to be a perfect Sugardaddy, in addition to her Allowance, I give Cleo £300 ($200) a month to cover maintenance – waxing, nails, hair and so on,

So, the fact that her nails were unpainted and her hair messy, struck me immediately.

“Er, have you been auditioning for some part as a rather unkempt woman with low grooming standards?” I asked

“No Daddy, I just didn’t get round to it”

The game had begun…

“Really?”, I replied, “Daddy is not pleased to see you looking like this, you look like a common slut”

“I am sorry I’ve disappointed you Daddy – will you punish me?”

At this point, my shitty day and everything that was bugging me, melted away in a second.

“Yes Cleo, I am going to severely punish you, we have an agreement and you have broken it – think on that, I will be back in a minute”

My company has an account with the hotel, I pulled out my phone and dialled downstairs to reservations – I explained I was in the bar and needed a room.

Within 10 minutes a Concierge was on the rooftop with a room key, delivering it with a rather obvious flourish, Cleo seemed shocked,

“How did that happen?”

“Simple, I wanted a room, I’ve got a room. I am going to deal with you now. Go to room 507 and wait for me there”

I handed Cleo the keycard and she got up and left.

I glanced at my watch, I thought 15 minutes was about right, so I ordered another mohito.

After I finished it, I headed to the room.

There on the bed, on all fours, was my beautiful Sugarbabe. She had hitched her dress up and her bare arse was beautifully displayed.

I had thought about spanking her there and then, but I wanted the punishment to be slightly humiliating.

I sat on the bed, “lay over my lap”, I commanded.

Without a murmur, she moved over, pulled up her dress and bent over my lap.

I stared down at this gorgeous arse and her waxed pussy and got to work.

Her rear reddened with every smack…by 20, she was positively glowing and moaning softly.

Now it’s my turn I thought. I unzipped my cock and pulling her hair, forced her head on to it.

“Now slut, I want you to remember Daddy hates disobedience”

Cleo sucked me like a street hooker in a hurry and after a few minutes, I was coming in her mouth.

“What do you say?”

“Thank you Daddy”, she coughed as she swallowed

Such outstanding understanding of punishment deserved something in return and within minutes my fingers brought her to an orgasm.

I held her tightly as we lay together.

“Daddy hates it when you make him cross”

“I know, I’m sorry Daddy”

This morning I got a pic from Cleo of her rose-red backside, simple message “This is my arse this morning – thank you daddy”

My day was made and it was only 9.30am.

 

 

 

 

 

Why I Love London’s Cabbies

Thursday was a great afternoon with Cleo in St James’s.

I was still on a high after our adventures at the Polo on Saturday and with me booked out of the office, it was the perfect opportunity for an undisturbed fest of good food and fucking.

Cleo was on a high, she’s been called back for a couple of auditions and so there was an all-round good vibe as we lunched and then drifted the afternoon away in bed.

Come 7, I had to head to a dinner in the City, so I offered to run her back to Shoreditch.

The taxi stopped by her flat, I opened the door, got out and kissed her goodbye, before getting back in and asking the cabbie to take me to the Embankment.

london-taxis

I sank back into my seat, feeling both tired and elated, when suddenly the cabbie piped up,

“You don’t mind me saying mate, is that your girlfriend?”

“Yes, she is” I replied, feeling more than a little smug, but desparately trying not to sound it

“You bloody lucky bastard, how do you do it?”

Mr Modest kicked in… “Oh, well, I don’t know, er, well, she’s a friend”

“Yeah, right, pull the other one, tell me how you pulled her” (Cabbies are the only people who still talk like this)

“Oh, ok, if you must know, I let her call me daddy when I fuck her”

A long period of silence…

“I wouldn’t care what she called me if I got to fuck her”