Reconnecting

Prologue

Soleil Baer sat in bed with her knees tucked to one side, her demeanor impish against the backdrop of a pastel pink headboard. A trio of LED light strands shimmered on and off behind her, casting a slow, rhythmic glow across her bare shoulders.

In front of her, a laptop depicted this beautiful bedroom scene, capturing a crisp and curated image on a live video feed. She was pictured in the center of it all, a white dress shirt, halfway unbuttoned and barely draped around her as it pooled along her sides.

In the upper left corner of the screen was a chat box, and above it her username was written in a garish font: daddysgirl2005.

As several users tipped or sent in a naughty comment, she had placed her hand over her lips in an overdramatic gasp.

"Oh," she said, playfully portraying a surprised air. "You're home early, daddy. I was just..."

Her voice trailed off as her bright, amethyst eyes looked straight into the camera.

She demurred.

"Dad," she spoke in a near whisper before her eyes trailed downward. "Don't be mad."

More tips began to filter in.

She began to twirl the gray, silk tie that hung casually around her neck. Her hair, the color of a dark honey, brushed along her jawline as she looked up again. Displayed in stark contrast beneath the white shirt she half-wore, was a black, lacy bra that hugged her chest perfectly.

"I just missed you," she explained. "I found these in your closet, and they smelled like you."

An alert flashed on the screen, announcing that Daddy808 had paid the 500 token cost for her to remove her bra. She laughed a melodious laugh and dropped the tie between her currently shrouded breasts. Her fingers clutched the cuffs of the oversized shirt and she rolled onto her knees, rising slightly and pointing accusingly at the screen.

Her lips had scrunched into a playful scowl as she flirted with the largest tipper so far.

A moment later, she returned to character.

"What, daddy? You want to..."

She caught the clasp between her breasts and there was the softest snap as the garment came undone, and she gasped, looking into the camera. As the lacy bra fell away, her subtle chest was revealed to the excitement of her watchers as more tips and comments flittered in.

She slipped the rest of the way out of the dress shirt and cast it and the bra off the bed.

"You're so naughty," she cooed, her hand moving to cup her right breast. "They're yours, daddy - yours to hold. And touch. And squeeze."

Each offer was it's own, a gift basket of taboo delights for her watchers.

With an effortless grace, she fully assumed a kneeling position and the comforter gave beneath her like a fluffy, white cloud. She arched her back and turned her head to the side, presenting her chest to the camera.

Out of frame, a collage of images of herself and her mother hung on the wall and it fell directly into her line of sight. It was a beautiful representation of the two of them throughout the years, with only a single panel displaying no photo at all. It had been removed earlier in the year and she hadn't yet replaced it. A pang of guilt almost took her out of the moment before she managed to recover.

Both of hands were now on her chest and she caught her nipples between her index and middle fingers. The lines of her digits traced delicately over them.

At this point, she had fully recovered herself and felt that familiar stirring inside of herself. It wasn't her practiced touch that had done this. Nor was it the power dynamic she portrayed in her little one-woman-play. And though the idea of being watched had always been a secret pleasure of hers, it was the relationship idea that got her off. Every time.

Her eyes flashed back to the screen and a wry smile twisted her red lips.

She had issues. Daddy issues.