Our Origin Story 🔥

Before I met Daddy C, my world revolved around my career and my children. After escaping a toxic relationship, I had sworn off relationships for five long—looooong—years. I was convinced I could thrive without it, that I didn’t need the distraction. But then… he happened.

We worked in the same industry, and fate (or maybe something far more wicked) placed us at the same convention. The last day of the event was held at his business, and the moment I walked in, my eyes locked onto the most devastatingly handsome man. Sharp features, commanding presence, the kind of confidence that makes the air thicker. I couldn’t stop looking at him. I told myself to keep it professional, to play it cool. But my body? My body had other plans.

That night, as things wound down, I asked for a tour of the second floor. Simple curiosity. Innocent, right? Friends… a dungeon. A real, fully equipped, no-room-for-misinterpretation dungeon. Cages. Floggers. Restraint systems built into the furniture. My breath caught. My pulse pounded. My carefully curated self-control? Absolutely obliterated.

Instantly, I was flustered—FLUSTERED.

Daddy C must have seen it in my face because he asked me to stay and talk. I ran. Straight to my Uber. I needed air. I needed distance. But he followed me outside like a perfect gentleman, walking me to the curb, pulling me into a hug before I left. And God, the way he smelled—clean, expensive, dangerous. His height, the strength in his arms, his voice… My five-year vow of celibacy was officially on shaky ground.

As my Uber pulled away, I watched him in the rearview mirror, heart racing.

"How was your night?" the driver asked.

I exhaled dramatically. "Okay, so… can we have a taxicab confessional moment?"

I spilled it all. The self-imposed exile, the agonizing drought, the way I had walked into that room and felt like I’d been wrecked on sight. And then… the dungeon.

My Uber driver? Fully invested. "GIRLLLLL, GO BACK THERE AND RIDE THAT MAN!"

I laughed, but I shook my head. I couldn’t. I had plans, dinner with friends. I had already told Daddy C no. I had made my choice.

Regret. Regret. REGRET.

Then, late that night—ding.

An Instagram DM. 😈

The next day, at the airport—ding.

Another DM. 😈

Later that afternoon, as I landed back home—DINGGGGGG.

A video. Shower steam. Wet skin. I almost fainted.

The floodgates had opened, and the next eight excruciatingly slow weeks were filled with messages, teasing, tension that built like a storm ready to break. Until finally—I was stepping off a plane, back in his city, with a fantasy between us that neither of us had forgotten.

One night, during our endless back-and-forth, Daddy C had asked me:

"That night you left my business… if I had asked you to invite the Uber driver to play with us, what would you have done?"

And friends… tell me—what do you think Daddy C planned and executed flawlessly when he picked me up from the airport that day? 😈