5. Poseidon

Poseidon

5

My fingers trace the contours of the hardened white gems adorning her collar, each one a symbol of our unique bond. In the past, countless others have bent to my will, yielding to my callous ways. Yet, never before have I felt such a profound desire to claim someone as my own, to possess them wholly. Now, with this collar, the world sees the undeniable mark of my dominance over her. She is mine, my submissive, and I am her Daddy.

Her gaze meets mine, anticipation reflecting in the depths of her eyes. Despite her being the one who shaped me into something physical, it is I who will complete her. I will guide her, mold her desires to align with my own, and in doing so, we will become inseparable.

The salt-tinged air fills my lungs as I pull her closer, feeling the warmth of her body against mine. The world may see the collar as a mere accessory, but I need her to know it signifies something far deeper. Tonight, the stars will rise, shimmering like the gems on her collar, and as we fuck along the moonlit shore, I will reaffirm my vow to be the Daddy she wished for so long ago. This beach, with its whispering breeze and endless horizon, is our silent witness.

I search her face for signs of devotion, but am met with confusion and questions.

"Do you understand the weight of the collar you wear? It is not merely an ornament, but a declaration of our roles. With this, I pledge to you to be the man of your dreams, so long as your trust is implicit and your submission is complete."

Isla sizes me up, her face adorably scrunched in a mix of fury and frustration. "How can you be the man of my dreams when you didn't even win the competition?" Her bratty voice is tinged with challenge. "You don't even know what I want or need, and even if you did, I'm not so sure you could deliver."

The rain frolics softly down, its rhythmic sound a stark contrast to the tension between us. I take a deep breath, feeling the cool breeze against my body, and move closer to her.

"Isla," I begin, my voice steady yet firm, "I'm not here to win trophies. I have something much better in mind. You may not remember when we first met, but I do."

She crosses her arms, her eyes narrowing as she listens, not entirely convinced.

"It was right here, on this very beach. You talked for hours about your last Daddy who did you so wrong. Trust me when I say I won't piss away the opportunity to make you happy the way that he, or any man before him, did."

"My last Daddy?" Her voice is laced with confusion. "When was this?"

"One year ago," I reply.

A sudden giggle bursts out of her like the dawn. "That—It wasn't—"

The creases in my forehead deepen as I try to see what she finds so humorous. A man hurting her is nothing to laugh about, if you ask me.

Her giggles soften to a smile, and then a gentle touch, her hand over my heart. "That wasn't my Daddy. I mean, he is, but not like that. I was mad at my father." There's a change in her voice, punctuated with a tremble as the weight of past memories pushes in. "He let me down."

Tears glisten in her eyes. I reach out, gently cupping her face in my hands, brushing away the droplets that have started to fall. I resist the urge to taste the salt water pouring from her eyes, to soak them up with my tongue. Instead, I continue to let the pad of my thumb caress her sadness from her cheeks.

I move a step closer, not caring if she needs space to process what she's admitted. I want her to know that I'm here, ready to listen.

She looks down at her feet, digging her toes into the cool, damp sand as if grounding herself. A surge of protectiveness washes over me, my heart aching at the thought of her having been hurt by anyone, her own father especially.

"You don't have to think about him any longer," I say. "I'm your new Daddy. I'm the one who will always be there for you and never let you fall." Her eyes search mine as if to seek the truth in what I'm saying. With a grin, I add, "Unless it's onto your knees to worship my cock."

A smile brightens her face, and it's more beautiful than any beach sunrise I've ever witnessed. With a bit of hesitation, she whispers, "I've never had a, um, Daddy like that. What would that mean for me? To be collared to you?"

I take a deep breath, holding her gaze. "It means that you are mine. Your heart, your body, all of you belong to me. If you ever feel uncomfortable or unsure, I want you to tell me. I will always prioritize your feelings and well-being. But in return, you follow my lead. And you give yourself to me fully, completely, and willingly."

The sincerity in my words seems to reach her, and a tentative smile tugs at the corners of her lips. Her hand reaches up to touch the pearls at her neck. "Like what we just did?"

"Oh, my pretty little island, that was only a drop in the ocean."