"I didn't know you had a kid," A female coworker mused, genuinely surprised by my participation in the 'Bring Your Child to Work' day festivities, "she's such a polite kid!"
I took a long sip of coffee, giving an appreciative chuckle, "Yeah, she's a sweetie. Manners are really important to me; say hi, Maddy." I gestured with my mug towards Maddy as she sat at one of our tables in the break room, chatting animatedly about something or other with another colleague and his daughter; she answered with a cheery wave.
The unsuspecting dolt continued, "It's just so good to see fathers active in their girls' lives!"
This cunt chuckled, as if we were friends; in 6 years I hadn't care to remember her name.
"I appreciate the compliment!" I lied through my teeth, taking another sip of brew, "The secret is consistency and discipline; the rest sorts itself out."
Speaking of consistency, there were a few projects that did need need some attention, along well as my own needs, "Maddy, sweetheart, I have to get some work done. Come along." My little angel looked up from her conversation and complied with a smile, saying her goodbyes before skipping near to follow my lead. Some innocent touching was always a wonderful prelude, my thumb rolled over her tin knuckles and elicited a dainty giggle as we held hands. Maddy rarely got to go on these little public outings; home was where she belonged. With each hop and skip I could tell that joining me for a day at work had meant the world to he; to revel in the façade with me.
For the occasion, we'd taken some time to really give her hair a thorough rinse, giving the dark tresses some luster and sheen. Upon her request, a little navy dress clung to Maddy's pubescent form, an imitation of a professional woman's; they'd even given her a mock badge for 'Bring Your Child to Work Day'. It was a complete ensemble, and perhaps in a purer context our relationship would've been something wholesome; I found it comical that these idiots really believed she was my daughter.
"I love getting out of the house, master–" Maddy nearly bit her tongue in embarrassment, recognizing the error of her speech, "I'm sorry..." It was dangerous to slip up so openly.
Scolding her wasn't necessary, especially here. I waited until we could sit down at my cubicle to address her innocent accident.
"Madeline," my voice stern but not cruel, "mistakes like that can be dangerous. We save 'master' for home and 'daddy' for trips outside. People won't understand our relationship or how I care for you, remember? Don't be sorry, just don't mess up again, sweetheart."
Authority and submission went a long way between us, so the message was immediately received. Maddy nuzzled her ebony locks into my neckline as we hugged to seal her apology, "Ok, 'Daddy', I won't do it again." The glaring size difference between us was apparent when we embraced; a whiff of Maddy's natural smell exciting the part of me I generally kept subdued in public.
For 2 years, I'd trained Madeline to masquerade as my daughter, a deep rooted obedience ingrained into her psyche by rigorous Pavlovian conditioning. "Can I fix it so you aren't upset?" Such an innocent question laced with deviant implication.
Just bringing my little plaything to work had been a burst of exhilaration, the danger of being outed only strengthening my lust; why did voyeurism excite me so? I looked around to make sure no one was lingering in the immediate vicinity of my desk; it was clear.
"I'm not upset, silly goose, but you can help me." Maddy's silken locks felt amazing as I massaged the dark crown of her hair, scratching at the little girl's scalp to milk a childish coo. We were of one mind, my little sweetheart and I, a primal heat filling her cheeks under my ministrations.
Resuming the role of mock father and diligent employee, I looked to Maddy with a proposition. "Daddy has a lot of work to do; can you help him out under the desk while he's busy?"
"Oki doki!" Maddy whispered innocently enough, a certain playfulness that masked her lascivious mind, "I'll be extra quiet!" Without delay, Maddy descended into the space between my knees, hidden from prying eyes under the cover of the workstation.