Captain's Baby Girl Read online

“…oh, Daddy…”

  Madeline unraveled the condom, with some difficulty, down the remote, covering it entirely in the smooth and lubricated latex. She took the remote, its tether to its socket generous and slack, and place it at her entrance, pulling her panties to the side farther as she did so.

  “…fuck, yes, fuck…”

  “…suck…both…”

  Madeline heard the muffled groans and grunts of fucking, and in one smooth motion pushed the remote inside her. It felt sensational, the soft rubber buttons like the pleasure texture on so many sex toys, teasing her folds with a dozen points of pleasure, rubbing against her g-spot, the skin surrounding like a downscaled mirror. She brought the remote control out and plunged it deep back inside her, letting out a stifled moan of ecstasy.

  “…oh, Daddy!”

  Madeline fucked herself with the remote faster and faster, and began to massage her clit forcefully, expertly. She brought herself screaming to the edge, stopping on a dime, letting the point of no return fade gradually further before speeding up again. She teased herself, inserting the sheathed and lubricated remote deep inside her, faster, slower, faster, slower, bringing herself closer to orgasm and then letting it slide away.

  “…fuck me, Daddy, fuck me!”

  The sounds of sex from within the cockpit were sharper and more audible now, and Madeline let her own moans rise in volume to match them. She sighed and heaved and moaned and hissed as she rhythmically fucked herself with the ten-inch piece of plastic, wishing that the batteries inside could somehow make it vibrate.

  She imagined Elizabeth being fucked by the Captain, bent over a console or chair or whatever there was. Before her the co-pilot and navigator, trousers around their ankles and manhood standing eagerly erect, waiting to be serviced by the young and pretty stewardess, by the Captain’s baby girl.

  She imagined Elizabeth struggling to take one cock into her mouth as her Daddy slammed into her from behind, his balls swinging up to slap against her clit, each smack like a faint echo of the punishment he had dealt her just moments prior.

  She imagined the two men pumping themselves as they received fleeting licks from the young girl’s tongue. She imagined them unloading their ropy, thick cum onto her, hitting her face and eye and hair and chin and lips and mouth and neck and breasts.

  She imagined the Captain ramming himself powerfully one last time before exploding inside her, sending forth his own milky, sticky seed to explore the caverns of his baby girl.

  Madeline crested and moaned loudly once before being reduced to gasps and hurried pants as pleasure crashed over her like waves on a shoreline, tossing her about. She clutched at her breasts tightly, feeling her nipples stiff and erect through her thin bra, feeling her cunt clench and contract around the remote, feeling her body sent into convulsions and spasms.

  Madeline was wracked by pleasure. It laid a siege upon her body. The minutes stretched out into forever.

  As the intensity of orgasm began to ebb, Madeline sat back, cheeks flushed a cherry red, eyes still closed. She slipped the remote out of her and peeled off the condom, neatly putting it into a sick bag before replacing the remote, now slick with the lubrication and spermicide that lined the latex sheath, back in its socket. She folded the television back into the armrest, and adjusted her skirt, zipping it up tightly again.

  “…Daddy…”

  She took two earplugs and placed one methodically in each ear. Her movements were exact. She closed her eyes, and drifted off into a pleasant sleep, her hunger temporarily sated. She knew that when she woke again and saw Elizabeth, that spark would be rekindled, and the memory of the sordid sounds she’d heard would come flooding back, like her own wetness.

  But for now she was content. She didn’t hear the cockpit door slide open. She didn’t see a disheveled Elizabeth, cheeks a ruddy red and hair a tangled mess, emerge. She didn’t see the wide grins of the three uniformed men inside as they bid her farewell.

  She didn’t hear them ask when their next meal would come.

  Or the laughs that followed.

  # # #

  Thank you for your support. There are so many examples of great and creative writing in the erotica genre, and all its sub-genres, and it is all often overlooked -- we are rarely afforded the privilege of shelf space. It is your patronage that allows me, and other erotica authors, to continue doing what we love.

  For that, I am eternally grateful.

  Thank you - Saffron.

  About the Author

  Saffron Daughter is my pen name, and I'm in my early thirties. I'm a successful professional, engaged to be married to the love of my life, and I've traveled to over thirty countries. I also likes to write risqué and spicy erotica, especially of the taboo kind.

  In my spare time, I do all the cliché things; walk on the beach at sunset, take my two rescued mongrels for long treks, and spend time with my fiancé any chance I get. But when I find a moment of peace, in between the job, the lover, and the dogs, I'm tapping away on my keyboard, penning my every dirty thought.

  Thank you for supporting an indie author. Anything you can do, be it write a truthful review or tell a friend, I would appreciate.

  Please email me at [email protected] anytime!

  Bonus Material 1

  Check out this sneak peak of Saffron Daughter’s scorching tale of a cuckold husband who catches his wife in the act of cheating:

  Caught Cheating

  * * *

  Rose is getting naughty with her neighbor when she sees her husband, Nick, standing in the doorway. He's home early, and he's got a box of chocolates in his hand. It's the moment she's always dreaded: She's been caught in the act of cheating. But she notices something new in her husband, a violence, something venomous and vengeful.

  In an instant, his hand is at her throat, his voice is charged with lust, and he's pressing his bulging manhood into her. She's more than a little scared... but also more than a little turned on!

  * * *

  The man’s muscles tightened visibly beneath his clothes. “Today was the first time we ever met. Did you remember, Rose?”

  Rose’s heart was beating furiously, and the nervousness, fear and growing guilt was a heady concoction. “Of course I remember, Nick,” she said, her eyes hardening at the accusation. “You never come home this early!”

  “I never come home this early? I see. So it’s alright, as long as I don’t know about it?”

  “Nick, no, it’s not like that.”

  “Then what’s it like, Rose?” Nick said, taking a threatening step toward her. Rose’s labia were quivering as she saw the anger-imbued man shedding the timidity and gentility she was familiar with, the tenderness she both loved and hated. “Was this not a thing? Was it random? Could you not help yourself?”

  “Nick…”

  “Is this a regular thing? Do you schedule it? Every Wednesday at six, the man from around the corner comes around and—” Nick’s eyes widened and his voice trailed off as he read the look on his wife’s face, the admission in her eyes. “Really, Rose?”

  “Don’t ask me, Nick, please,” Rose said. But as she saw the level of anger rise in Nick’s eyes, as she saw something ferocious lurking within him, she felt her own longing grow. This was arousing. This wasn’t the meek Nick… this was something else; a new energy she hadn’t yet seen. Despite herself, she prodded him where it hurt. “It’s twice a week.”

  “For how long?” Nick asked, his voice trembling, his hands shaking.

  “Five months,” she said, raising her chin at him in defiance. She felt empowered by a growing sense of lust she felt as her husband grew more humiliated, more furious.

  “Five months? Jesus. Why?”

  “He… there are some things he provides for me that—”

  “Provides?” Nick spat at her venomously. “I’m your husband. I’m supposed to provide for you!” He hurled the box of chocolates at the wall behind her, narrowly missing her. They exploded, sending dozens of dai
nty chocolates scattering on the carpeted floor. The unexpected violence took hold of Rose, fingers coiling around her neck, fingers inserting themselves inside her cunt. She felt both terrified and turned on.

  “What could he possibly provide that I can’t, Rose?” Nick asked, holding a fist in a hand.

  Rose looked at him frankly. “Nick… he satisfies me.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “Nick, how do I say this? Let me think for a moment, okay?”

  “Sure,” Nick said, glaring at her. “Time’s up.”

  “Nick… look, he fucks me, okay? It’s that simple. He fucks me hard, and he fucks me roughly.”

  “I don’t do that?”

  “Do you?” She asked, widening her eyes at him, daring him to lie to her. “Do you, Nick?”

  “No,” he said, his shoulders dropping as if in defeat. “No, I guess I don’t. I make love to you because I love you.”

  “I love you too, Nick, but sometimes I need more.”

  Nick seemed to retreat within himself for a few moments, his overt displays of passion and emotion taking leave. His fists unclenched and he looked at nothing for a while. Rose saw the exact moment when he returned back to the present, when his field of vision gradated from a blur to clarity. For the first time since he had caught her and the man, he seemed to notice her body, her stark nakedness, the curve of her hips and the bulge of her breasts. His eyes lingered momentarily on her nipples, stiff and hard and framed by beautifully modest areolas. His eyes wandered up and down her body, devouring it, locking onto her folds and still-swollen clitoris that peeked out from the space in between her legs.

  “He really fucks me,” Rose sad, noticing the change in her husband’s demeanor. “He fucks me good.”

  “Sure he does,” Nick said, catching Rose a little off guard. “And if it wasn’t him, it would be someone else. It would be anybody else, wouldn’t it, Rose? Wouldn’t it?” He took a step closer. “Do you know why, Rose? Do you know why?” Another step. “It’s because you’re a filthy little whore.”

  * * *

  Bonus Material 2

  Check out this sneak peak of Saffron Daughter’s story of a naughty girl who steals her sisters boyfriend:

  My Sister's Boyfriend

  * * *

  While staying with her sister, Larissa, Cassie is left alone at the apartment with nothing to do. Looking for a film to watch on her sister's computer, she discovers porn. She decides to watch one and pleasure herself, but is interrupted by her sister's hot boyfriend, Michael. "Please don't stop," he says...

  * * *

  The girl on-screen moaned, and I moaned too. I found myself aping her, matching her actions, knowing that they would lead me to what I sought. I started to feel my own moisture in my underwear, and began probing my finger slightly into my entrance, shivering at the sensation, something completely and utterly teasing. I wanted more.

  I slipped a finger beneath the elastic of my panties, and began to gently run circles around my hardening clit, smearing my own juices around, lubricating my sensitive regions. I sighed and moaned softly, feeling the familiar sensations of building pleasure, anticipating my own final release.

  No, I wouldn’t get there quickly. It was always too quick after a night out. Today I’d make it last. I sent my finger away from my quivering clit, to probe in between my folds, the space between my inner and outer labia. I ringed my entrance slightly, feeling it open up beneath the pressure of my finger, savoring the light and teasing pleasure….

  I heard a light cough behind me and snapped my head around. Michael was standing behind me.

  “Shit,” I said, pulling down my skirt. “Why didn’t you tell me you were there?”

  “Honestly, I was going to, but when I saw what you were doing I was going to just slip back out.”

  “So why didn’t you?” I said, exasperated. I couldn’t believe it!

  “I started to get a bit turned on.”

  “You what?” I was stunned.

  “That’s a hot video, too. Your sister and I often watch it together.”

  “You mean all the porn on here is both of yours?” I hadn’t considered that.

  “Yeah. We watch it together. It has a pretty good effect on the, um, atmosphere.” He looked up and down my body. He was still standing in the doorway, and a light draft was streaming in. For a moment we just looked at one another. The insanity of the situation seems to make the room spin around me. I had been caught touching myself while watching their porn on my sister’s computer by her boyfriend!

  I looked at him. He was wearing a tight-fitted polo shirt and hugging jeans. He looked remarkably good for having been out drinking all night. How on earth did he keep going like this? In contrast, I was sure I looked messy and disheveled. A moment of vanity gripped me and I wondered how I must look to him, how he thought of me sitting here, in my small skirt and tank top, braless, nipples pressing through the fabric, soaking white panties on display. His eyes seemed to eat up the sight of me. The awkwardness of the situation seemed to not really be weighing on his mind. He looked completely at ease, a slight smirk parting his lips, his narrow eyes sexy, a dark and hungry gaze emanating from them… he really was attractive. The video was still blaring in the background. The girl was fingering herself furiously, bucking her hips wildly. Her free hand was lifted high above her head and gripped the headboard behind her as she writhed and wriggled deliciously on the soft sheets. It was like a dance. It was mesmerizing. It was hypnotic. I felt my gaze moving slowly back toward the monitor. I felt my hand slide slowly beneath the elastic of my panties. I couldn’t believe I was doing this. I started to slowly touch myself again, running circles around my engorged clit, watching the girl on screen get herself off recklessly. I wanted to do the same to myself.

  No. I wanted Michael to get me off recklessly.

  * * *

  Bonus Material 3

  Check out this excerpt of Saffron Daughter’s erotic tale of corporate blackmail and office sex and BDSM:

  Their Secret Desires

  * * *

  Nick Stevenson, young hotshot at a prominent law firm, sneaks into Katherine Dors' office in the dead of night. He wants to find dirt on her, he wants to bring her down and anything will do.

  When he finds an explicit video of her, he can't believe his luck! He confronts her about it the next day in her office, and things get steamy... fast!

  * * *

  Katherine darted forward and slapped him. It was quick, hard, and left Nick's cheek stinging, burning. Before he could stop himself, his right hand had whipped out and lashed her on the cheek in return. She nearly fell, spun around from the force of the hit, and he sprang forward to hold her, catching her in his arms. For a moment, their eyes locked and he felt surprisingly close to her, as if their physical proximity had forced, for a moment, togetherness between them mentally.

  Time seemed to slow, come to a stop. It dawned on Nick that this had happened to him so many times within the last few hours, occurring far too frequently to just be a matter of coincidence. His cheek burned as he held her. She hadn't made a sound when he hit her.

  And he had hit her hard.

  Something took over, something automatic. He ripped her blouse downward and the plastic buttons sprang off, showering the floor like so many beads. She reacted in kind and, with an unexpected strength, ripped open his shirt, sending his buttons to the floor to mix with in with hers.

  She hungrily ran her hands up and down his defined stomach. Nick kept in shape, took pride in it and it obviously pleased her. Her left nipple had slipped out above her small purple lace bra and he clasped it between his thumb and forefinger, pinching it tightly while leaning in to smell her neck, the image of it sweating from the night before flashing furiously through his mind. Her smell sent tingles to his cock as he realized she hadn't put on perfume that morning.

  Had she planned this too?

  She removed what was left of her blouse and stood t
here in her bra. He had no patience for the clasps and pulled it up and over her head. She put her arms up and there was a fleeting moment where she looked entirely vulnerable. He wanted to devour her. As the metal hook scraped against her skin, she let out a small sound, one indistinguishable from pain or pleasure. Perhaps for Katherine one begat the other and Nick's heart quickened at the thought.

  He wanted to hurt her and he wanted her to like it.

  He watched as her breasts fell free. They were large and well-shaped, grander in reality than on video. Wide areolas encircled her already hard, thick nipples. Her skin was soft and smooth and tanned and the thought of her naked on a beach, exposed to all, tickled his mind for the second time in hours. It was not long ago that he had been stroking the back of his shaft, where he was most sensitive, and had noticed her lack of tan lines.

  He almost felt as if his lack of sleep, the few drinks he'd had and the caffeine he'd forced into an empty stomach this morning had created some potent toxin, reacting with his confused and mixed emotions to transform Katherine Dors into some object of desire, some personal and unique fetish.

  She was his fetish.

  He wanted to cup her breasts, squeeze them hard, suckle on her nipples, bite them until she cried out in pain. His desires raced ahead of him, overtaking his capacity for movement. But he was not in control of himself and, as he stared into her eyes, endlessly deep, their hazel brown hue like some golden gate, some glorious entrance behind which lay some unknown land, he felt as if he was being directed, as if his body was attached to strings and his movements were those of an unseen master. He felt like a puppet, but who was the master? Katherine?

  He reached out and pinched both her nipples, drawing her closer to him by her stiff peaks alone, looking for signs of pain and distress in her eyes, searching for her own personal secrets, something he would never have guessed just by knowing her.

  It was in a moment like this, hidden within the confines of her office, glass opaque, a world to themselves, that he felt he was learning who Katherine really was. Penetrating the fog she used to shield her true self aroused Nick. He wanted to know that she liked pain. He wanted her to be unorthodox while living in an orthodox world.