I'm 44m, fit, handsome, successful, and live in NYC. You're a princess who wants to serve your daddy, be cared for, and bred.
When you hear my keys in the door, you're waiting, on your knees, mouth open. You crawl to me on command. You're eager to be trained. You sit at my feet, or on my lap. Around the house, you wear nothing but lingerie of my choosing. You are free use. When told, you lay on your back at the edge of the bed, my hands gripping your thighs, while I pump you full of my endless cum. Alternatively, should the mood strike me, you wait on all fours, back arched, eyes forward, eager for daddy to mount your hole and fuck a baby into you.
In the world, you are proudly on my arm and protected from its cruelty. I show you off. People stare. I beam with pride. Your fertility is fortune, smiling. Between acts of depravity, daddy cares for you, cherishes you, hears you, scoops you up and holds you tight. We are equal. The master is your servant.
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