Her Savior/Her Doms

Call Me Daddy

The farther we walked from the house, the more I noticed something taking shape ahead of us on the beach. A blanket. A lantern. Items I couldn’t quite make out yet, but that made my pulse quicken with a mix of nerves and curiosity.

{Destiny} “Daddy… what is all of that?”

{Daddy} “This is just for us. Private time — no audience, no interruptions. I want to introduce you to the cane properly, on my terms and yours. I want you to see that it doesn’t have to be something you fear.”

I swallowed hard. Every instinct in me wanted to turn around and walk back to the house, but I kept my feet moving forward because I had told him I trusted him. And I did.

When we reached the setup, Daddy sat down and pulled me gently onto his lap, wrapping an arm around me so I felt steadied rather than trapped.

{Daddy} “Tell me — what is always the first thing I do?”

{Destiny} “You spank me first. To warm up the skin. To get the blood moving so it doesn’t bruise as badly.”

He looked genuinely pleased — proud, even — that I had remembered after being told only once.

{Daddy} “That’s right. Good girl.” He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “Do you trust me to teach you what you don’t yet know? To not hurt you when this is play and not punishment?”

{Destiny} “Of course I do, Daddy.”

{Daddy} “Then don’t worry about anything else. We own this stretch of beach. There’s no one for miles. It’s just you and me.”

He shifted me gently off his lap and told me it was time — bikini off, over his knee. I hesitated. Just a beat, just a breath of uncertainty, but he felt it immediately.

{Daddy} “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

The quiet authority in his voice was enough. I did as I was told, even with my heart hammering and my eyes already fixed on that slim, elegant cane resting on the blanket beside us.

{Daddy} “Because you hesitated, we’re going to fifteen instead of ten. Every choice has a consequence, Little Dove.”

I pressed my lips together and nodded.

{Daddy} “You’re going to count each one and thank me. If you lose count, we start over. Understood?”

{Destiny} “Yes, Daddy.”

The first swat landed with a sharp, decisive crack, and I gasped — more from the shock of it than the pain. But I found my voice.

“One. Thank you, Daddy.”

“Two. Thank you, Daddy.”

Each one built on the last, the warmth spreading across my skin in waves, my voice growing smaller and more breathless with every count. By the time he told me the fifteenth was coming — and that it would be the hardest yet — I was already crying, tears slipping silently down my face, my fingers gripping the blanket.

The final swat hit like a thunderclap. For a moment I forgot everything — my name, my breath, the beach around me. But I found the words.

“Fifteen. Thank you, Daddy.”

He rubbed my back slowly, letting me come back to myself before he spoke again.

{Daddy} “You’re going to take five strokes from the cane. Just five — this is an introduction, nothing more. You don’t have to count. You don’t have to thank me. I just need you to breathe and trust me.”

He guided me to stand, then bend forward and wrap my hands around my ankles. The position felt vulnerable in an almost overwhelming way.

{Daddy} “Do not let go. If you do, this becomes a punishment. Do you understand me?”

{Destiny} “Yes, Daddy.”

The first stroke of the cane landed across my already-tender skin, and I cried out — a sharp, involuntary sound swallowed by the sound of the ocean. It burned differently from anything else, a thin, precise line of fire that bloomed outward in waves. But by the second stroke, something began to shift. By the third, the edges of the pain were softening, blurring into something that pulled me gently downward — into that quiet, floating place I had found the night before. Subspace. By the fourth and fifth, I was barely there at all. I was somewhere warm and weightless, held up only by the sound of the waves and the steady presence of the man behind me.

When it was over, Daddy knelt beside me and smoothed cool lotion carefully across my skin, his hands slow and deliberate, his touch almost reverent.

{Daddy} “I am so proud of you, Little Dove. So incredibly proud.”

---

He laid me down on the blanket and stretched out beside me, his hands moving over me with a different kind of intention now — tender, exploratory, unhurried. He kissed me slowly, deeply, his fingers tracing the curve of my waist before moving upward. He cupped my breasts in his hands, thumbs brushing my n*****s until they peaked, then lowered his mouth and drew me in, his tongue circling in slow, maddening rhythm while his fingers worked the other side. Then he switched, giving each the same devoted attention until I was arching into him without meaning to.

His hand wandered lower, sliding between my thighs, and when he found how wet I was, he groaned against my skin — a low, hungry sound that sent heat flooding through me.

{Daddy} “God, you are absolutely soaked for me, Little Dove. So warm. So tight. Daddy needs a taste of you right now.”

He kissed a slow, deliberate path down my stomach, parting my thighs with gentle hands, and when his mouth found my c**t I gasped so loudly I startled myself. He sucked it into his mouth with devastating precision while two fingers pressed inside me, curling upward, finding the spot that made my whole body go taut. I tried to hold back. I tried to wait. But the orgasm crested and broke before I could catch it, rolling through me in long, shuddering waves.

{Daddy} “That’s it, baby. I didn’t tell you to hold back — you can let go as many times as you need to tonight. This was never a punishment. This was always just for you.”

---

Destiny’s POV

He guided me up onto my knees and positioned himself in front of me, his c**k thick and heavy, already hard with wanting. He told me to take what I could — to let him move, to breathe through it. I took him into my mouth and tried to take more than I could manage, my jaw stretching, my eyes watering, the taste of him warm and clean on my tongue. I didn’t want to stop. Even when I was struggling, I didn’t want to stop.

{Daddy} “As much as I want to finish in that beautiful mouth of yours, I need to be inside you. Right now.”

He rolled me onto my hands and knees and entered me from behind in one deep, driving thrust that nearly knocked me flat. I gasped and gripped the blanket as he found his rhythm — hard and relentless, his hands firm on my hips, holding me exactly where he wanted me. The sound of the ocean, the warm night air, the burning ache across my skin — all of it folded together into something that felt enormous and complete.

I lost count of how many times I came. I stopped trying to track it. I just held on and let him take me apart, over and over, until my arms were trembling and my voice had gone hoarse. When he finally groaned — low and broken, my name on his lips — and spilled into me, I felt it everywhere. I collapsed onto the blanket and lay there, completely undone, listening to the waves and the sound of both of us trying to catch our breath.

When I could finally stand, we gathered ourselves slowly — lotion, blanket, each other — and made the walk back to the house hand in hand. A shower. Dinner. Master Leo is waiting.

I just hoped, with every sore and grateful inch of me, that he didn’t have plans for my backside tonight. Because I was absolutely, completely done.