Daddy Diaries Novelas e Histórias

"Yes, daddy... I do. The house feels empty without you. What are you doing? When will you be home? I've been waiting all day." He chuckled darkly, the sound sending shivers down her spine. "Just wrapping up some meetings, baby. Thinking about you too, how wet you got for me, begging like a good slut. I'll be back in an hour or so. Be naked and ready on the bed when I walk in. Spread those legs, touch yourself but don't cum. I want to see how desperate you are." She whimpered, her free hand slipping under her shorts instinctively, fingers brushing her clit. "An hour? That's too long... Please, daddy, hurry. I need you to fuck me again, dominate me. Tell me what you'll do, make me wetter while

I shifted, gripping my pen like a lifeline, trying to focus on the numbers flashing on the screen. I was a man of discipline. I ran a multibillion-dollar empire. I had negotiated deals that toppled governments, yet here I was, barely able to focus on a seven-figure acquisition because a twenty-one-year-old intern had called me 'Daddy' and ruined me. And I was not her freaking father. Her father was six-feet-under! She knew exactly where to hit the nerve. The board droned on about synergies and valuations. Thea stood to present a section on market analysis, her idea, her slides, her voice clear and confident.

's noisy customers, the stench of alcohol and unnecessary demands. I pictured Osifa serving the customers. It will be her first time. I pictured my mother directing her, introducing her to the various kinds of alcohol, thier price and how they are to be served. If it was within my power, I would never wish for any of my siblings to be acquainted to the bar, it's uncultured customers and the decadence it births. I also pictured Kiki and Tami playing in a corner close to my mother who must be sitting in her mighty chair. I missed Mama Ajabo. We would have been conversing if she was here. She would have been sharing her youthful tales withe, urging that I draw lessons from her experiences. I wa

Reading through the first page made me feel slightly uncomfortable since I could tell this was probably someone's diary and I was reading through someone's private thoughts. I still couldn't help it since I felt this diary could hold key leads or answers to my father's life that I knew nothing of, a part of him hidden that could possibly link up with Teodoro. Dear Diary. The infamous opening words. They reminded me of my teenage self with countless journals and diaries, at some point, writing every single thing I couldn't tell anyone about. It was somehow a therapeutic experience not everyone could relate to. The first entry dated as far back as nearly a decade, something that greatly intrig

And then my hand brushed something rough—like the edge of a notebook, wedged behind the dresser, nearly invisible. I froze. Pulled. It was a diary with black cover and worn edges. I brought it close and flipped it open. But before I could even read the first line, something slipped out from between the pages. A photograph. I bent quickly and picked it up. And then I just… stared. It was old. Faded at the corners. But clear enough. My father was in it—young, maybe in his late twenties. He looked strong. Confident. The same man I’d seen in old family albums.

***Dear Diary,*** It is Day Two. My father has been gone for less than twenty-four hours, and this house already feels like a den of sin. I woke up today thinking I could play it cool. I thought I could just be the "man of the house" and keep my distance. I was wrong.

Below yellowing papers and faded photographs, I discovered it. A diary. Its leather cover was cracked, the edges were dog-eared as if opened and closed a thousand times. The first page had my dad's handwriting, all deliberate and sharp. I settled into a chair, my hands shaking, and the. I started to read. The entries started harmlessly enough. Notes about work, agreements he had been working on, appointments he attended. But as the pages went by, the words shifted. They grew darker. He wrote about Jacob, how he once admired him, how he once trusted him. How he had believed Jacob to be a man capable of building empires.

This book is intentionally divided into two parts. Part One — The Daddy Diaries contains 67 chapters focused on consensual power exchange between adults, including traditional Daddy kink (DDLG) as well as reverse or gender-flipped dynamics (MMLG), where roles are chosen freely. Part Two marks the beginning of All Yours as a broader erotica collection. These stories explore different fantasies, taboos, and power dynamics, all centered on desire, control, consent, and obsession. If Daddy kink or role-reversal dynamics are your preference, Part One offers a complete experience.

Darien opens the box, and the first thing he sees is the leather-covered journal his father got him when he was thirteen. His father caught him admiring it when he tagged along with his father to do deliveries. As his father spoke to the bookstore owner, Darien closely admired the leather-bound journal. He loved how the leather smelled and felt under his fingers. It was so much nicer than the plain notepad he had been using. He remembers thinking how nice it would be to be able to write in something like that every day. What he never expected was for his father to take on a few odd jobs just to be able to buy that for him for his birthday.

I said and offered him a smile. “Hmm,” he sighed and closed the door behind him, while I sulked at the fact that he didn't return the smile. In my boredom, I found a pen and a sticky note. “I would rather doodle,” I said to myself before getting at it. FORMER OUTLINE Book title : Daddy's best friend My dad's best friend has been my best friend and nanny since birth, but tonight my heart wants him. "Just call me Shawn", he says with his gaze still locked with mine as we click our champagne glasses.