Daddy’s Baby: A Military BDSM Secret Baby Romance Read online

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Daddy's Baby

  S. L. Finlay

  Copyright © 2018 S. L. Finlay

  All rights reserved.

  CHAPTER ONE

  He was everything I ever wanted in a man, with perhaps a little more thrown in for good measure. My boyfriend and I had been together for a few years, had moved in together and were happily living the dream.

  My boyfriend wasn't just my boyfriend, but he was also my Daddy Dom. That was something we kept private, but something which meant that within the confines of our home, Daddy would look after me, would give me cuddles and help me wind down before bed. I would be his little baby girl who he looked after and cherished, all in that fantasy way that age players love, where even though you're clearly not related to this person - my boyfriend was only a few years older than me and our families had never even met before we got together, let alone there being some relation somewhere - you have this fantasy world built up around your inner child being looked after and what that would look like.

  Originally, I met Daddy at an age players drinks night, where I had gone out of curiosity and for research purposes - I was a sex and relationships columnist for a very famous womens magazine at the time - and I had left the place with the hottest guy in the room.

  That night, I didn't tell Daddy that I was just researching his lifestyle. In truth, the part of me that was curious for my own reasons took over, and when the hot sex we'd had was followed by him holding me in his arms and telling me how much he adored me, I was pleasantly surprised. After some time though, I felt a sense of guilt for not being totally honest with him.

  That sense of guilt was nothing new, I would have it intermittently throughout our relationship. Whenever I would hold back information - usually out of fear of intimacy, or because I didn't want to hurt him by telling him things he wouldn't want to hear - I would have this sense of guilt I carried around with me that would eat me up whenever I let it enter my mind, but then when the sense of guilt wasn't there I would be able to pretend that hadn't ever happened.

  Keeping secrets in a relationship is never a good idea, but when you find that your secrets are forcing you to live a sort of double life, then it kills you. Fear of intimacy can push you even further away from the one you love. Often when that happens too, it's all over. There's no going back when the space between the two of you has grown so wide, or at least that's how it feels.

  But before I go into that too deeply, let's continue to focus on my meeting Daddy for the first time.

  When we met, we went home and had a great time together, then the next day I didn't want to leave. I wouldn't budge. Until my stomach wouldn't allow me to go on without eating. Daddy told me he didn't have any food in the house, and that he couldn't leave today to get me any.

  "Why?" I asked, frustrated, wanting to experience more of this Daddy looking after me that I had seen glimpses of the night before.

  Letting out a slow exhale, Daddy wrapped his arms around me tightly as we both lay in the bed and he looked me in the eyes, "I could go out, but I am supposed to be there. In an hour, my commanding officer will be coming over for a drink, and I have to get ready for him."

  Sighing inwardly, I felt frustrated. He was going to spend time with this guy and not with me? How could he do that? Then I got a grip, this guy had just met me and didn't have plans to take me home at first.

  I was always struggling with reigning in my feelings in those days, something Daddy would point out was a common shared trait between baby girls. We feel so much, and don't know how to express it so things come out as a great jumbled mess.

  That day though, Daddy really didn't have any more time to entertain me, so at four thirty in the afternoon the day after we'd met we exchanged numbers, I put my clothes on and I began the walk of shame back to my own home.

  Only, it didn't feel shameful. Only, I had my own car. It was more like a drive of triumph than a walk of shame, if I'm honest.

  In time to come, I would recognize the strong connection Daddy and I had even back then. I would see it for what it was: the beginnings of a beautiful love affair. Part of me would regret that we had met at an age play gathering, because how could I explain such a meeting to my vanilla friends? To my boss? To my family? I would need an alternate story, and one that he and I would have to coordinate so our stories matched.

  I guess secrets were not just things that existed within the relationship, but about the relationship too.

  Daddy and I were happy though, and despite the normal amount of road bumps that any relationship encounters, we would be happy going forward. It didn't take us long to discover what each other loved, and what got one another going sexually, and what one another needed in a partner. It wasn't long until I was calling him my boyfriend, then after that word had a chance to settle, I started calling him my partner.

  When we had been together a few years though, the army took a turn, it went from being a career choice Daddy had made a few years previous to being something that was taking a bigger role in both our lives.

  In the end, we had to move from where we had been living, and we had to move in together. We were living together on base when Daddy and I had a conversation that would change the direction of our relationship and of our lives forever.

  We spoke about the children we both wanted to have, the ones we had always referred to so many times when we said things like, 'when we have children...' and spoke about what we would want for them.

  But this time, we were having a serious conversation around the logistics of having children. We were talking about where we would have them and how many we wanted and when we would want to conceive, and when we would want to be parents.

  Daddy and I were both happily chatting away about this, even as there was a sense of dread underneath. Because, having children wasn't all fun and games, it was work. It was a lot of work and some fear around what happened if you got it all wrong.

  "I think we'll need to start planning about a year before we have it." I told Daddy, "because, I would need to know in advance that I'd need leave, and we'd need to choose a hospital and need to make sure our insurance was enough to cover everything."

  Daddy nodded along, with a sense of heaviness, he later told me, because this fantasy we had both had for so long about being parents was becoming a reality, and that scared him.

  Throughout the whole conversation, there was a big pink elephant in the room which neither of us wanted to address. I wanted to be married before I started my family, and although I had told my Daddy this in the past, I felt odd bringing it up when we were having our very pragmatic conversation about babies and how to get them into this world safely and at a time that was convenient.

  So I left it, and Daddy left it. And our lives moved on after that conversation.

  We stopped talking about babies when we found out Daddy would be shipped out, but, unusually, we had plenty of notice before he was going to be shipped out. They kept calling him up, then telli
ng him they didn't need him. All the marines in his company were going through the same thing. An over-committed military were unsure whether they wanted to send these boys away.

  One night over whiskey and cards, Daddy's commanding officer told him that it wasn't a matter of if they would go to war but of when they would go to war. When would they call Daddy up was what I had to contend with, and it scared me.

  Despite my fear of war and of Daddy getting hurt or worse, we tried to not let this disturb the rhythm of our lives too much. I would still have to go to work as a journalist and come home to my Daddy every night just as I always had.

  The pending deployment was having other impacts on our lives as well. We went from being a loving couple to one where we couldn't do enough for one another.

  We loved one another so much, it was tiring.

  One night when Daddy was getting our dinner ready, as he did most nights, I breezed into the kitchen and started cutting up some vegetables that I knew needed to be cut up, then took over the cooking while he was using the bathroom. When Daddy returned, I had gotten further along in the cooking than I would have expected in such a short period of time, and as a result Daddy let out a little laugh and told me he was actually making a completely different dish to the one I thought he was making and could I undo the mistakes I had made?

  Of course I couldn't, so we both just laughed my mistake off. This was one of the many times one of us would try and help the other and it would backfire.

  Just like when I was looking for maps to travel somewhere for work and Daddy gave me one set of maps because it was newer and more current than the other set of maps, then found out quickly that the maps he had given me were wrong and I should be following some other maps entirely than the ones he had presented me with. The maps I had originally reached for were the right maps, not the ones Daddy had given me in an attempt at being helpful.

  Knowing Daddy was going away soon was hard, and it sometimes made us make mistakes like these ones, but it also made us appreciate one another all the more.

  One of my sweetest memories of Daddy was when I was in bed after a night where Daddy had been up drinking and playing cards with some friends - including that commanding officer who told us it was not a matter of if Daddy would go to war but when - Daddy had come back drunk and stumbled around our bedroom. I had pretended to be asleep because I didn't want Daddy to come to me looking for sex in that moment.

  But, Daddy didn't come to me looking for sex. Daddy came over and held my hand while he asked, "baby girl! Baby girl! Are you awake?" Knowing full well that I was awake with all the noise he had been making.

  Something in his tone told me the jig was up, he knew I was awake. Being a good girl, I gave a little moan and told him that I was awake.

  "Baby girl, I just want you to know that you are the most important thing in my life right now. I love you so much." He told me, as if unburdening his heart of all the things it held onto. As if he ached so bad from the love he had for me, that he just had to tell me. As if this important message couldn't wait until dawn. It couldn't wait one single moment longer.

  I opened my eyes and looked into his. Even though Daddy was a tall man, he had leaned over me to whisper his sweet words. My eyes were on his and I gave him a smile, as if to cheer him up. Daddy's face was sincere, and a little sad. He meant what he said.

  Jerking my head slightly I told him, "get into bed, silly."

  That night he held me closer than I can ever remember being held. Daddy loved me, as I did him, and we both felt a sense that this relationship was meant to be, in the way that so many couples before us had felt, but in a way that felt new to us both. In a way that felt fresh, and special.

  I had never loved any man as much as I loved my Daddy. It was like he was made for me, and we were fated to be together. I would not have said these things out loud to any of my friends, but they were how I felt and at night, when Daddy was holding me close, I would tell him exactly how I felt.

  That night was no exception. I told Daddy that I loved him more than anything, and, as we both drifted off to sleep it was like I was falling asleep in a big, soft cloud. I was sleeping on cloud nine, if it were even possible.

  There I was, sleeping beside the most wonderful man I had ever known, and nothing could be sweeter. Or, at least that's what I thought in that moment. Things were about to get a whole lot sweeter though.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Waking up the morning after Daddy had confessed his undying love to me, as I slowly came into consciousness I felt the warmth of Daddy's arms holding me close. Daddy always held me like this as I slept, yet every morning when I awoke I felt happy and free. It doesn't matter how much he loved me and how routine things were, they still felt fresh and amazing.

  I tried not to dwell too much on the fact that this feeling, of being wrapped in Daddy's arms, was something I loved so deeply and something I knew I would crave when it couldn't feel it anymore because Daddy was away. I dreaded the thought of his deployment, and pushed the thought from my mind. I was going to be in this moment, I felt sure of it.

  It didn't take much to push awful thoughts from my mind as I lay in his arms. Daddy was big spoon and moments after I awoke, I was pushing my butt and back into Daddy. It took him a moment longer than me to wake, but when he did, he pressed back and into my ear in his morning voice Daddy told me in a way that ensured everything I wanted to forget would be forgotten, "good morning princess!"

  Smiling at Daddy calling me princess, I told him, "good morning to you too Daddy!"

  Daddy was kissing my neck and running his hands over my skin. He owned me and it was his body to play with, but Daddy was never rough unless he meant to be. He was never rough unless we both wanted it. Otherwise he was gentle and loving. His skilled hands knew just where to touch me and when. We had had years for him to figure this out, but that wasn't it. He had worked out how to touch me pretty quickly. He knew just what to do to make me happy.

  When Daddy started kissing my neck, all other thoughts left my head and I enjoyed his warm lips on my skin. I could feel his breath dancing across my sensitive neck, too.

  Smiling, I drunk it all in, Daddy's hands upon my skin, his lips upon my soft neck. This felt wonderful.

  I rolled over and faced him and got my morning kisses. I was sighing and taking in every sensation, the warmth of his skin, the hardness of his muscles, the touch of his hands, the softness of his lips. I was in heaven in that bed with Daddy.

  Until I wasn't anymore.

  The alarm had gone off and Daddy was rolling his eyes, as was I.

  "Rain check?" Daddy asked me, much of the joy now gone from his voice.

  I could feel his hardness as he had slept naked beside me, but I knew better than to press the issue, even as I so badly wanted to. If I complained, Daddy would be even less likely to honor that rain check later. So I nodded into the pillow, looking away from him.

  Daddy cupped my chin and forced me to look into his eyes as he positioned himself above me, "hey!" He said as I looked into those beautiful blue eyes that I had always loved, "hey! Don't be sad." He told me with a quick, soft kiss on my cheek.

  "I'm not sad." I lied, my lip curling slightly and giving me away. Seeing the recognition in his face that I was lying, I looked away and he let go of my chin. Taking a breath I told him, "I'd just, like to practice making this baby is all." I told him.

  Daddy shook his head slightly and chuckled, "sure you would!" He told me, his voice immediately naughty.

  Rolling my eyes at his presumption I told him in a frustrated voice, "go on, get up! Start your day!"

  Daddy looked me in the eye for a long moment, holding my face just as he had been when he told me not to be sad. His hand had never fallen away. I refused to look away from those gorgeous eyes for even a moment and as a consequence, our eyes were locked on one another's in a way I always loved. I knew he was checking if I was okay and I gave a little smile to his unanswered question. Then, Daddy got up out o
f bed.

  Being military, Daddy was always up early, even on the weekends. He was just used to this routine. He was used to the way things were from work and secretly, I think he liked it, even as he would never admit it. I think he liked having mornings to himself while a majority of the population slept in. That way he had all the roads to himself, he had the shops, the parks, the public spaces. Everything was Daddy's in the mornings and he loved that. With this freedom, Daddy was focused on his fitness in a big way. Daddy would get up and go for a run one day, then lift wights the next. He was always exercising and always keeping himself super fit.

  Me on the other hand, I was a little chubby. Daddy loved the extra pounds I had and that they seemed to fall in all the right places, but I was a bit indifferent to that. I was happy enough with my body, and happy enough with my sleeping in, to keep doing it.

  And that morning, as my very hungover Daddy went to run around a football field or lift some weights, I rolled over and fell back asleep under my soft warm comforter. We all have our priorities.

  *

  Later that day, I awoke to the distinct smell of bacon. My face broke into a smile as I thought of how lucky I was to have this man who made me bacon and let me sleep as late as I wanted to on a weekend. Daddy really knew how to look after me, and how to give me exactly what I needed. Bacon, that was a need, not a want of mine I told myself.

  Stretching and yawning before rolling out of bed I headed for the kitchen. As I drew closer to the kitchen, I could hear the sound of music. Daddy did this, put on music while he cooked. In the morning he was considerate enough to turn it down so I could sleep. It was usually only the smell of food that drew me out of my slumber. What an amazing cook I thought as I drew up behind Daddy and could see over his shoulder. He was making bacon and poached eggs. Perfect! I loved my eggs poached!

  I had been quiet as I entered the kitchen and Daddy hadn't known I was here until he turned around and saw me, "stealthy!" He teased.