Ruin Me, Daddy

“How are we going to get to the bar,” I asked myself quietly as I walked around the same book display case for the third time, gazing out into the Lower East Side, gray from New York City's annual summer showers. Usually, I'd have stayed in, loathing the rain, but today was exceptional; I was meeting Louis.

I was smitten with Louis when I saw his picture on the dating app. He was a devilishly handsome, slim Asian man with soft almond eyes, the faintest trace of stubble, and a smile only men in Luis Buñuel films have; a gentle smile that conveys all-encompassing trust, carefully concealing the fact that he’ll seduce you down the infernal abyss, one delicious kiss at a time.

I was so excited about our date that I had spent two hours dolling myself up, meticulously controlling every little detail. My breast-length aquamarine hair was curled without a single flyaway, held into two twin tails by baby pink ribbons. I wore a pink silk slip dress that resembled lingerie, and creepers with matching pink ribbons for shoelaces. I imagined myself as a kawaii doll floating through the summer showers, awaiting the incubus who promised infinite earthly pleasure in exchange for her sentience—that worldly pleasure was domination-submission.

~~~

I’ve wanted to explore my submissive side for years, and Louis seemed like the perfect person to do it with. Submission as an Asian woman is a complex dynamic I wrestled with ever since I understood my tastes for BDSM. Having seen and experienced firsthand how people in the West fetishize the idea of a docile, submissive Asian woman whose sole existence is to satisfy or entice her partners' desires, I was not about to be anyone’s Cho-Cho-San, the tragic geisha who sacrifices herself for a mediocre white man in John Luther Long’s orientalist novel, "Madame Butterfly.” Nor O-Ren Ishii in Tarantino's "Kill Bill,'' a hypersexual femme fatale who wears pure white silk kimonos in the snow, poses with katanas, equally embodying dragon lady and fragile lotus blossom. Deep in my heart, I knew the only man I’d get on my knees for was a confident, sensual, compassionate Asian man. So that's how I, a petite, high-maintenance Asian girl who avoids rain like the plague because it ruins heat-styled hair, ended up in an empty bookstore during a thunderstorm, waiting for a date.

We had moved from the dating app to texting, giving way to innocent conversations about French literature that slowly transitioned into late-night sexting.

9:18 PM Louis 

Tell me where you want me to bite you

9:20 PM Jun

My neck 🥺 I want you to mark me all over

9:21 PM Louis

Mmm such a good girl…tell me more of what you want

9:26 PM Jun

Choke me and slap me until I cry, make me be a good girl just for you 💖 I just want to make you happy

9:41 PM Louis

I love that 😈 I’m going to train you to be my perfect doll…I can’t wait to spank you and leave marks all over your body

9:45 PM Jun

Please dooooo, I just want to be sub with you…I never did before, but I feel really safe with you ❤️ Like I just want you to be a dom Daddy, call me Princess, and fuck me up 😘

10:01 PM Daddy

Mmmmm you’re being so bad Princess, I’d love to be your dom Daddy and do all that

Louis became Daddy, and I went from Jun to Princess. I knew I had to meet him.

~~~

My hands, delicately manicured in a pearlescent nude sheen, flipped through out-of-print books on combating anxiety caused by late-stage capitalism and “fresh takes” on 1960s abstract expressionism, my heart pounding in anticipation. Was I ready to experience submission? What if he wasn’t how he portrayed himself online? What if I panicked? The faster my thoughts raced, the quicker I flipped through the books, the cover colors seemingly corresponding with my emotions. Suddenly, I heard a door open, rain permeating the room.

“Princess?”

There he was. Daddy. The man I’d been fantasizing about was wearing a crisp pinstriped shirt, black jeans, and a drenched raincoat that glistened under the bookshop’s lighting. We locked eyes for a minute, my face betraying my excitement. I walked up towards him and kissed him before the door even had a chance to close. I could feel his fingers wrap around my lower waist, pulling me in, my hands clinging to his firm chest for balance as his lips met mine. I carved this moment into my memory—the only time I thought the scent of rain on wet skin was alluring. After what seemed like forever, I pulled my lips away, smiling up at him. I knew the universe was rewarding me for embracing the rain that day.

“Hi, Daddy.”

As we left the bookstore, my sense of time and sensation bled into each other; we talked about growing up Asian in white suburbia sitting in a Japanese tea house, bonded over our creative careers in a French restaurant in Soho, and landed in the dark corner of a bar in the Lower East Side, my legs hanging over his lap, his curious fingers brushing against my inner thigh, occasionally touching the lace on the sheer panties I wore for him. As I sipped my white Negroni, my mind eased me into my current surroundings, and I leaned towards him, the sound of my blood pumping in my ears, my face bright red. “Daddy...can I suggest something,” I whispered into his ear. “Will you choke me here? In front of everyone? I want them to know the only man who can use me is you.” I wanted everyone to see how much I enjoyed this man.

"Is this what you want, Princess?" he murmured, his left hand pulling me in for a kiss as his right hand grasped my throat. Who needs blood and oxygen anyway? His tongue forced its way into my open mouth as I struggled to breathe, savoring the relief that my pleasure was entirely in his hands. "Such a naughty princess...wanting to show everyone how aroused you are," he whispered loudly. "Do you like when Daddy takes control?" I nodded, my body limp in the seat, a familiar warmth enveloping my lower body. The nagging hesitation that had previously prevented me from submitting to a man disappeared. I was wholly willing to submit to this attractive Asian man catering to my needs, and I hoped that I could show him how alluring I found his Asian masculinity to be.

The pressure on my neck gradually became too intense—I started to cough. And then the room slowly came back into focus. There was Daddy, his hand on my thigh, his forehead against mine, looking at me with slight concern. "Was I too rough?" he asked, his voice gentle, opposite his previous demeanor. This was not Daddy, but Louis, the kind and intuitive man I found alluring. Sure, calling Louis "Daddy" was scandalously delicious, but realizing we were still on equal footing despite the power play was reassuring. "Are you alright? We can take a break—" I silenced him with a kiss. 

Time briefly paused, the room shrunk down to his lips brushing mine. And each time I pressed into the kiss, I could feel where his hands had choked me burn. “I’m fine Daddy…,” I whispered. “Just ease into it a little…maybe we should go back to your apartment…?” His face broke into a grin. As I stood up to grab my bag, I felt my knees buckle, my body still recovering from the choking. But before I could grab the table to stabilize myself, Daddy’s hands were on my lower back. An understanding established between us, we walked out of the bar hand in hand. Despite the rain having become a full blown thunderstorm, we managed to hail a cab. My head gently tilted against Daddy’s shoulder; I focused on the scent of his cologne and the sensations of his fingers playing with the hem of my dress. 

Streetlights flashed by.

Drivers aggressively changed lanes.

Pedestrians yelled profanities at us.

Cards were swiped, and taxi fares were paid. 

Doors opened.

Stairs creaked.

Locks turned.

I was in Daddy’s apartment.

He led me into a dimly lit room as we looked at each other, breathing, blending with the soft rain pattern outside. "Are you ready, Princess?" he asked quietly, his hands undoing the ribbons on my silk dress. The silk slid fluidly down my shoulders, revealing sheer peach panties and no bra, my breasts decorated in pale blue veins under my translucent skin begging to be twisted, bitten, and marked. I didn't care where I was, who I was, the circumstances; I wanted to be devoured. I was not built to resist temptation–my lips left cherry red marks behind Daddy’s ears, down his neck, and around his chest. As I cupped his face in my hand, his stubble kissing the tips of my fingers, I whispered my request for the night.

“Ruin me, Daddy.”

I was Daddy’s doll, at his whim and mercy, ready to be the perfect girl for him. If he had asked me to sing, I would sing. If he had asked me to dance, I would dance. At that moment, he held my consciousness in his hands, and I was ready to exist solely to please him. 

Daddy grinned as he pushed me onto the bed and pinned my hands above my head, the muscles underneath his toned arms flexing. “Remember you said that, Princess,” he teased, kissing my neck then sinking his teeth into my skin. “Fuck...Daddy...t-that’s too...a-aah,” I whimpered, as I felt three fingers force their way into my mouth, violating every inch of my tongue. “I thought you wanted me to ruin you, Princess...I’m just getting started,” he whispered, his hand grabbing my neck, pressing me into the mattress.

Slap. My cheek burned from the impact, streaks of saliva dragging themselves against my face. I would have begged for more if I could, but even breathing proved difficult. All I could do was let out a strained cry.

“Quiet,” he commanded, a look of stoic approval settling into his face. “Be a good girl and take it.” He slapped me until my face was flushed pink, tears beading in my eyes. Even though we had established a safe word, I had no intention of using it. Gradually, his hands found their way down to my lower body, to the source of my desperation. “Are you sure you’re alright, Princess,” he checked in with me, his voice reminiscent of how he sounded at the bar. “I can stop whenever you need a break.”

“I’m fine, Daddy...just fuck me...please,” I begged him, wrapping my legs around his hips to pull him towards me. “Please fuck me...I’m so horny, Daddy...I need you inside me.” As I gasped for the words, I could feel him growing underneath as he guided himself to enter me. Before I could relax my body, I felt it rip open; Daddy was deep inside me. If my throat were relaxed enough to moan, I would have, but all I could do was struggle to adjust to his cock as he pounded into me, the room filled with bed creaks and moans. I pulled his body towards mine, licking his sweat off his chest up to his neck, the faintest taste of salt and rain lingering on my tongue. My breasts bounced along with his tempo, my moans filling the room, drifting into the night. “Turn over, I want to go deeper,” he moaned in my ear, flipping me over, his hands grabbing my ass for balance as he pounded into me. “Harder D-daddy…! Please..! I-I…aah..,” I struggled to form anything vaguely coherent, biting into a pillow to muffle my moans. “I can’t hear you Princess. What did you say!” One hand smacking my ass cheek, the other spreading me apart. “Louder,” he emphasized, his hand gripping my neck to pull my body towards him. ” “I…I said f-fuh…fuck me h-harder…D-Daddy…” 

I finally understood what it meant to submit to a man—this man who had seduced me via a phone screen had understood my innate desires without ever explicitly asking me to explain them, and he had fulfilled his promise: my mind and soul had completely submitted to Daddy, my body aflame with him fucking me. The rest of the night shimmered like a dream. I felt his cock twitch as he came, his body grinding against my clit, my ears full of the sound of his gasping and groans. Imagining the inside of my body coated in Daddy’s cum, I slipped my hands down to my clit, pressing it deeply, my fingers fighting for space against his cock. “D-Daddy…I want to cum so bad…,” I begged, grinding my pussy against him, desperate for release. 

“Of course…anything for my Princess,” Daddy replied, flipping me on my belly as he pressed his lips to my source of pleasure, one hand rubbing my clit with his fingers, as the other hand held my pussy open, fucking me with his tongue. “You’re so wet, Princess,” he noted, licking me from top to bottom, giving me a slap across my already bruised ass. “You taste so good dripping with Daddy’s cum…are you ready to feel great?” An enveloping warmth spread from my clit to my toes, lips, ears, and nipples, before leaving Daddy’s lower face wet from my cum. I rolled onto my back, Daddy’s flushed face smirking back at me, and I felt myself blush, a small grin forming on my lips. His white sheets clung to my skin, damp from sweat. And as I raised my face to kiss him, one of the ribbons in my hair gently fell out of my twin tails. Daddy smiled, brushing the ribbon away, letting it fall to his bedroom floor, onto the pinstripe shirt he was so beautiful in earlier. The rain continued outside, gently masking the sound of our panting. 

Both of us spent, I rolled over to look into his eyes. “I’ve....I’ve never felt so relaxed, Daddy...thank you,” I whispered, his heartbeat lulling me into a peaceful meditative state; it didn’t matter that we had just met, Louis already held a special spot in my heart as “Daddy.” Chuckling, he pulled me in for a cuddle, gently kissing my forehead. “I loved using you, Princess, anytime,” his tone conveying that he did anything but—because for the entire evening, despite it appearing that he had torn me to shreds, all I remembered was wildness, gentleness, and kindness.

Photo by Ike Louie Natividad