The Summoning – Daddy’s Girl part 2

The Summoning
-Daddy’s Girl part 2-
(written by Michael Admin)
Read by Miss Rosie

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Sir, I really adore the gorgeous way you like me to call you, to summon you, when I need my milking. I come fresh from the shower and once dried I sit on the edge of the bed. My huge breasts are gloriously full and heavy, aching ever so slightly for your attention. And as you have requested, I take from the bedside cabinet the gift you brought for me on the very first day I became your milkmaid. A pair of ornate silver bells, with soft velvet-padded clips attached. They are my lovely milking-bells.

I carefully attach each bell by the soft clips to each of my thick protruding nipples – my “teats” as you love to hear me say – and I can’t help smiling happily as I feel the delightful weight of the beautiful adornments pulling at each large sensitive teat. To call you to me, I rock my shoulders gently, causing the breasts to sway slowly and the bells to ring softly, the lovely tinkling sound heard by you in the next room or wherever in the house you are – calling to you, summoning you.

Daddy’s Girl

Daddy’s Girl
(written by Michael Admin)
Read by Miss Rosie

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For Sir’s pleasure, she loves to wear the blouse with the buttons straining over the beautiful swell of her breasts. A tight, white cotton blouse barely able to contain her milk-laden udders. And a long skirt, no panties, as he has commanded.

She sits in his lap, astride him. Tells him how heavy those udders feel and how the teats are aching for his attention, aching for the unique relief she experiences only when Sir’s lips and tongue are wrapped around them, suckling hard. “Now open that tight blouse, my girl”, he says.

Continue reading “Daddy’s Girl”

Comfort in the Storm

Comfort in the Storm
Read by Miss Anonymous

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Part 1

It is quite late or perhaps it is quite early. Regardless of time, it is dark in the bedroom and only moonlight makes anything remotely visible. It has been raining for hours and it was the sound of that rain that had lulled me to sleep some hours earlier. It taps the window and makes a low roar on the rooftop. I can see the trees waving but they are far enough away from the window to be seen but not heard. I have always loved the sights and sounds of a storm from the comfort of a warm bed.

Continue reading “Comfort in the Storm”

 

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