Dinner

Yesterday, before work, my Daddy told me that we had dinner plans, and to be ready at 5 when he got off. I asked why, a little confused. “Well, my baby girl has been so very good lately, I just wanted to make her happy.” he said with a boop on my nose as he walked away, leaving for work without another look back. 

“Buh, ok... bye.” That stupid little gesture always makes it difficult for me to put together an intelligent sentence, and he damn well knows it. He was too far away by the time I finished my “sentence”, so I couldn’t hear it, but I know he was chuckling at the effect he has on me. Watching the door he just went through, I just stood there for a few minutes  before finally shaking myself out of it. I hurried up and got ready for work myself.

Life isn’t all fun and games, sometimes I have to go out and pretend to be April, and not his little one. I usually find my work enjoyable, if not a bit hectic, and the day flies by. Today however crawled past at a glacier’s pace while I just thought about what plans he had for tonight. A reward night out is never just dinner - I know he has planned something special for later when it's just the two of us. Finally the end of the day arrives, and I fly home, leaving a few things undone. I needed to hurry home and get myself ready, and those things would be future me’s problem.

I hear his car pull up right at 5, and head outside. There he was holding open the passenger door, just expecting that I would be waiting for him to get home. He just smiled at me, looking me over head to toe, obviously pleased with what he saw, as I walked towards him, and got in the car. He just stared at me for a handful of heartbeats waiting, until I let out a belated “Thank you Daddy”.

“Anything for my little one” he smiled, closing the door and getting into the driver’s seat. I asked him where we were going, but as I figured, he wouldn’t tell me. I couldn’t even get a hint out of him. And I tried asking with my hands, and just got them pushed away with a curt “Not while I’m driving”. Hmph. Finally, I figured where we were going as I recognized the route was taking us to my favorite Italian joint. Their regular menu was great, but their chef always had something unique for their daily special.

“Oh, thank you!” I squeal as we pull in the driveway, and hop out of the car, excited and start walking in.From behind, I feel a hand grab my hair and halt my progress. “Back in the car,” he said, all the warmth in his voice gone. He doesn’t need to say more, I know I screwed up. That wasn’t Daddy talking any more; that was my Sir.

“Yes Sir,” I say shyly, not wanting to look him in the eye. I know when he’s with me, I don’t touch a door. I’ll probably pay for that when we get home, but I was just so excited when we got there. As embarrassing as it is to admit, even to myself, although I hate making him mad at me, I also was a little wet. Feeling more than seeing that instant switch from Daddy to my Sir always sets me off. I get back in the car, careful to wait for him to open the door. He closes the door, and just stands there, staring at me through the window. I don’t know what made me more uncomfortable, that unwavering glare from his eyes, or the car heating up under the summer sun. I sit there while he stares at me like a child who misbehaved, effectively being put in timeout. A full minute goes by, maybe two, before I see the transformation in his face. 

Daddy is back! And he opens the door with a cheerful “Come on baby girl, let’s go eat.” We go in and get seated, and the server comes to tell us about the specials. As soon as I hear it, I pipe up “Oh, I’ll take that.” Ziti al forno was one of my all time favorite dishes.

And Daddy/Sir says “I guess I’ll have what she’s having as well.” 

Shit. I really need to keep my excitement from getting me in trouble, twice in the same hour now. He orders for me. This time, although Daddy still sounded nice, polite, and normal, I knew that was only for the benefit of the people around us. You see, the thing is, while I love ziti al forno, Daddy... Sir... whoever he is right now... doesn’t quite hate it, but he would never order it for himself. I look at him questioningly.

“Why did I order the ziti since I don’t like it?” he said, seeming to read my mind. “I need to taste the dish that’s so good, it’s worth what that stunt just cost you.” Oh. Fuck. I’m not too ashamed to admit, a little fear entered my expression. The bastard saw that in my gaze and laughed like I just told a hilarious joke. 

The drive home

And with that, he was back to being just his usually bubbly Daddy self. I slowly started enjoying myself again, and by the end of the dinner, I had almost forgotten what I had earned when we got home. Almost, but not quite. That’s why, after the meal was over and paid for, as we went out to the car (and I obediently waited for him to open both the restaurant door and passenger door. Not making that mistake twice in one day), I was almost expecting him to go into the trunk, and dig around for the duffle bag in the back. 

The duffle bag kept his “on the go” play gear. Very little in that bag was fun for me. It was almost exclusively used for his pleasure when I had misbehaved. He reached in and withdrew a ball gag and a disposable paper mask. The gag was one of my least favorite ones, the one with holes in it that made it impossible for me to not drool on myself. The mask was so that I could wear the gag in public, and no one but us would know.

“Put them on, buckle up, and then your hands don’t leave your sides until we get home” he ordered. Not asked, not told, commanded. I usually plead or give him the “get out of jail free” puppy dog eyes (that work on him more often that he would admit) when he brings out that gag. But this time, his behavior brought out the submissive in me so strong, I just obeyed without consciously thinking about it. “You couldn’t shut your mouth and keep quiet when the server took our order, so now you can’t close your mouth, and can’t talk until we get home.” As we pulled out of the parking lot, I felt the first drips of drool fall on my chin. It was going to be a long trip home.

About half way home, he turned off our normal route. I looked at him questioningly, and tried to make noise to get his attention. If you can believe it, he ignored me. I know he heard me though, because I saw the little upturned smile at the corner of his mouth. He was enjoying this! Looking down at his firmness, I saw from the outline in his pants that he was really enjoying this. He stopped the car in front of the local book store and asked “Do you mind if I run in real quick?” I nodded yes, emphatically. Of course I minded! Look at me, I had a drool stain a quarter of the way down my shirt. “No objections? See you in a while. Text or call me if there is a legitimate problem”, and placed my phone face down on his seat. It was there for me to use if I needed him, but would require me moving my hands from my side to get it. Clearly it was for emergencies only. 

He was in there for a good half hour, and came out with nothing. I’m not sure what was worse. Leaving me alone in the car with nothing to do or listen to, slowly (not that slowly) drooling down my chest. Or not getting me anything from the book store. We started back home, and as we approached the driveway, I was happy to soon be in the privacy of our home, but also dreading what he would come up with when we were inside.