“Here. You’re wearing these tonight.”

I jump, not expecting to hear your voice, push the shower curtain aside slightly, and see the outfit you’re holding up, stockings & panties included.

“But Daddy…I already had an outfit…”

“Shhh. Daddy has a special night planned and he wants his beautiful princess to dress the part. Let Daddy know when you’re ready, Princess.”

I let out a small exasperated sigh as you shut the bathroom door, leaving me to finish my shower in peace. This was by no means the first time you selected an outfit for me, but this wasn’t a huge momentous occasion, either. We were going out for dinner, like a normal couple, nothing exciting, or so I thought.

I put my head back under the showerhead, letting the water rinse out the rest of the shampoo, then bring my breasts under the water as well, caressing them, letting the gushing stream flow around them, around all of me, feeling the water’s therapeutic effects. I make sure I’m rinsed off thoroughly, not wanting the water to miss any suds, as if somehow I could wash away the stress from my body, my mind.

It wasn’t what you’d call a Tragically Bad week, as far as weeks go, just…long and somewhat trying. Everything I touched went wrong. I had the “anti-Midas” touch, you might say. As a result, I had a ton of pent up energy and every little thing was setting me off. I snapped at everyone, even Daddy, the last person in the world I wanted to hurt. I felt like the proverbial rubberband stretched to its limits.

Feeling somewhat more human from showering, I towel off gently, but quickly. I was looking forward to dinner and drinks, and the sooner I got ready, the sooner my mood would improve, and the sooner I could put this dreadful week behind me. Maybe drown this mess of a week in a bottle of wine or three.

After putting my contact lenses back in and walking into the bedroom, I see the outfit you laid out on the bed. No, my eyes hadn’t deceived me. It was that teeny-tiny number you got me some months back. A black, lacy confection, skintight, with exposed back and long sleeves. I say “teeny-tiny” because I have to tug on the skirt every time I stood or sat, for fear of showing my world, to the entire world.

Along with it was laid out my black lacy bra, matching panties-no, scratch that-my thong, and satiny stockings. My heels with the straps were on the floor next to the bed.

Twenty minutes later, hair, makeup, everything done, I look at my reflection, hoping I hadn’t gained weight since you originally gifted me this outfit. I sigh once again, “Goodness it’s only din…ohhhhhhhhhhh,” I close my eyes; I know you too well, “Daddy’s got something up his sleeve..”

“That’s right, love”, you answer, startling me as you enter our bedroom. You come up behind me, and put your arms around me, hugging me from behind, looking at our image in the mirror. “You’ve been so jumpy lately. And I’ve been a bit of a mess this week, too. We need something to soothe our nerves, before we do anything else, or else we’ll be biting each other’s heads off this entire evening.”

“Oh, I suppose you’re right, and we can’t have that, darling. What did you have in mind, Daddy?”

“I can’t tell you, Princess. Well, dinner’s a part of the evening, but that’s later on. For now, I need you to trust Daddy. Do you trust me?”

“Always, Daddy. You know that”, I nod, watching you start to kiss my neck in the mirror. As your warm breath and lips pepper my skin, I close my eyes and begin to grind my ass against you, warm, eager, needing, yearning. I let out a huge gasp and move my hands to your hips so I could press mine against you further…to feel your growing need, wanting you to undo 20 minutes of work, throw me on the bed, and have your way with me.

As I become lost in my own fantasy, my eyes still closed, I don’t see the blindfold you bring up over my eyes and tie behind my head. I freeze…


“You just said…”

“But, but what are you…?”

“Don’t worry about a thing, just trust Daddy.”

I obey. I feel you take my hands, lead me out of the bedroom, down the stairs carefully, and put me in your car. I hear you walk around the other side, get in, and turn the ignition.

Amazing how the other senses are amplified when one of them is compromised.

Obviously, I had no idea where we were going. All I knew was that the sun had barely started to set when we left the house, and it was full dark by the time we reached our destination. I could tell it by the scent of the air, the feel of it on my skin, the way the air changes from day to night. It turned chilly, and could feel goosebumps on my arms, my neck, my nipples begin to poke through my dress

You park, I hear your door open, then my door open, and I feel you help me out. I expect you to turn me around and whip the blindfold off with a “ta-daa!” but you didn’t do that. Instead, you lead me by the hands again inside a building.

By the scent of the cigarette smoke, the sound of the pulsing music, I guessed we came to a night club. “Okay,” I think, “we’re going dancing, I can live with that, but why the blindfold…??

“Oh, silly me, this is not THAT kind of nightclub…and the dancing is more of the exotic variety.”

I’m no prude, we’ve been to “gentlemen’s clubs” before. Whether for bachelor/ette parties, convenient entertainment (read: somewhere to go when the power at home goes out), or because we liked the drink specials, or maybe just because Daddy likes the eye candy. Most of these establishments are the same, save some slight differences in management and hospitality. (Yes, the food is actually Quite Good!) Regardless of the industry, it’s always a shame when “New Management” comes in and tries to fix something that ain’t broke. All too often we’d seen a “classy, upscale” lounge turned into a “shitty titty”.

From what I could tell, still blindfolded, we were at a location somewhere in between, not terribly high-end, but no dive, either. I expect to feel you slide me into one of those circular booths, and I expect to smell the perfume of some scantily-clad waitress coming by to take our drink order.

Neither of these happened. Instead, you pull me close to you and begin to untie my blindfold, while whispering, “Darling, I want you to dance..”

I start with a jolt again, “Now listen”, you continue, holding me ever tighter, “It’s an amateur night. No one’s expecting you to be..”

“Daddy, Daddy, I know what amateur nights are,” I interrupt”, “Remember Amelia’s birthday party? We gave each other lap dances? That was an amat…”

“All right, you know what they are,” you continue whispering as you remove the blindfold, “my point is, I want you, I NEED YOU, to dance for me, for US, princess. WE NEED THIS.”

I start to open my mouth, to protest, and then I look in your eyes, the expression on your face. All arguing, all disagreeing, all reasons why this is A Bad Idea, vaporize and never take form.

I sigh and squeeze your hand, “Okay, where’m I going?”

“Right here.”

I turn to my right, now that I can see my actual surroundings. The booth & table we were given is one of those with a pole through the table, mounted from ceiling to floor for stability. I’m not to be up on some stage, behind the bar, far away, blinded by lights, in my own world. No, I’m gonna be in the thick of it. Oh hell…

You observe the panic in my body language, in my eyes, and you turn my body to you again, but we don’t say a word to each other. We’ve known each other for so long, been through so much together, our bodies, our eyes, our facial expressions, did all the talking:

“Baby, what’s Rule #1? You’ll be fine. I love you.”


You wink, “I’m the only one here at this table, for the time being, at least”.

“And if others come???”

“Then let them see the beauty that I’m married to, that I’m going to take home, and make love to, to treasure, to cherish, and keep, FOREVER.”

“Oh Daddy…”

“Now get your ass up on that pole!!”

With a slap to my rump I stand up on the seat of the booth, get up on the table, and step up to the pole. As you take your seat, I look down at you with much love, and for the first time all day, I smile.

“You’re dancing for Daddy”, I think to myself, “Not some hairy-palmed apes that come in here. Even if said apes come to our table, you’re doing this FOR DADDY!”

The DJ launches into a song with a great sexy, driving beat. I didn’t realize how close we were to the DJ! The vibrations were enormous! Like an electric current, that driving beat pulsed through the amplifiers, through the floor, to the pole, up to me…

I explode…

I jump, but for once, not due to nerves!

I use the music to guide me, like a marionette, but I’m the one in control, the music inspires me to move my body to match the song currently playing. I wrap my right leg around the pole, lift myself up, swing around, and slide down, I repeat this motion a few times until certain muscles start to get tired out. I don’t want my whole body getting too rough a work out from the first 5 minutes..

Another song begins, and I do what I call a “stretching dance” as a warmup. I hike my skirt up so Daddy can see my entire world, turn around to face the pole, bring my arms up, bend from the waist to the floor, my ass extended out so he can see. I wish I could see your face, your expression, at this point.

Song ends, I smile & turn around to face you…

and I see that FIVE other guys have joined you in this booth.

I feel my face turn beet red. I look at you for answers, for help, for rescue. I see the loving, reassuring stare that’s always there to calm my fears. I fall in love with you every time you look at me that way.

I kick my leg up, making a mental note to thank you for choosing my strappy heels which will not fly off when dancing. Going into a deep plie, I wiggle my ass back and forth, my ass against the pole, then I turn around and reverse the position, so my pussy rises and falls against the pole. Up and down I go, unaware I am soaking the pole with pussy juices from how much fun I am having, how excited I am that you’re watching me, that these strangers are watching me…and they weren’t ugly guys either, for that matter.

As I dance, I feel one of the other guys who are sitting behind me, reach up to my ass and slide money in my thong, my eyes flutter wide open. I look at you again. Once again, I realize you’re in complete control. You’re observing what the others are doing, that they’re only tipping, and if they got any “handsier” than that, I daresay there would have been some consequences to pay.

A fifth song, a new dance, a sixth song, a seventh…

I have no idea how long I danced, and I didn’t care. As long as you wanted me to be up here, here is where I would stay. However, by this point, I had a modest number of bills sticking out of my bra and panties, (I even did the crawl and take the money in my teeth move! I always wanted to do that!), and the kind of dancing I was doing, well, the money would wiggle out, and on to the table, to my brief embarrassment and giggles.

Eventually you stand, toss back the rest of what was in your rocks glass. I don’t believe you touched a drop of liquor the entire time, or if you did, very little, so consumed you were in taking care of me.

You hold out your hand, I lovingly accept it as you help me down from the table, to the applause of the other guys. I smile, thank them graciously-I had no idea how much I collected but out of the corner of my eye I saw a Ben here and there while I danced-I kiss my hand and wave to them as you lead my fatigued but happy body out the door.

I fall into the passenger seat again, watch you walk round the car, and I smile at you as you get behind the wheel.

“Feeling better, Princess?”

“Oh yes, love. That was insane but I had a blast!”

There was that wink again from you, “Knew you would”.

Once again, the body language takes over:

“So now where to?” I ask with my eyes, hoping you weren’t planning to take me to a restaurant in my disheveled, sweaty state.

Your lustful gaze and that wonderful bulge in your pants, was all the response I needed. You start the car, and take us home.

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