Legendary Daddy

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Legendary Daddy Page 1

by Mia Monroe




  Legendary Daddy

  Mia Monroe

  Copyright © 2021 by Mia Monroe

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Cover design: Wicked by Design

  Photography by: James Critchley Photography

  Model: Jake Roberts

  Editing by: Abbie Nicole

  Proofread by: Charity VanHuss

  Contents

  1. Legend

  2. Legend

  3. Legend

  4. Bentley

  5. Legend

  6. Bentley

  7. Legend

  8. Bentley

  9. Legend

  10. Bentley

  11. Legend

  12. Bentley

  13. Legend

  14. Bentley

  15. Legend

  16. Bentley

  17. Legend

  18. Bentley

  19. Legend

  20. Bentley

  21. Legend

  22. Bentley

  23. Legend

  24. Bentley

  25. Legend

  26. Bentley

  27. Legend

  Epilogue

  A Note From Mia

  Also by Mia Monroe

  One

  Legend

  “Okay, are we ready on the set?”

  Sighing, I drag my hands through my hair before smoothing down my beard, filled with a sense of dread. I’m not looking forward to this, but I’m not sure how to get out of it. There’s a lot on the line right now. The biggest award show of the year is starting their nominations, and if history repeats itself, Arian and I will be nominated in numerous categories. We haven’t won any yet, but we’re hopeful this is our year. Numerous awards mean loads of money.

  Arian, for his part, is primping in the mirror, rubbing oil on his skin and applying lip gloss. He’s beautiful in a way most men aren’t. The fans have nicknamed him “The Angel” because of his ethereal face, sweet voice, and feminine nature. Me? They call me Legend because of the gift between my legs. It’s actually my name though. It’s like my parents knew I was destined for a porn career.

  And I love it. I know a lot of people in my family think I fell into this over some unannounced traumatic event in my life. The media has speculated that I must come from a broken home or some other tragic backstory, but the reality is that I just love fucking. I love the adult entertainment industry. I get to be exactly who I am while having sex with anyone I want. It’s more empowering than the average person probably realizes. I get paid to explore my kinks, my sexuality, and I have fun doing it.

  So why am I struggling today? Two years of being tied to Arian have worn me down. We fell into a relationship fast and hard, and our online presence blew up beyond what either of us could have ever dreamed. At first it was fun. It was amazing to be part of something so exciting and popular. Our shared Twitter feed blew up. Our OnlyFans broke records. When we hinted at a future marriage, our downloads doubled.

  But with all that fame and peeks into our lives comes pressure. The public thinks we’re a loving, monogamous couple who can’t keep their hands off each other. But the truth is we can barely stand to be together anymore. We fight on a daily basis, and his beauty that brings most people to their knees doesn’t do a damn thing for me anymore.

  But every time I try to leave, the money, the fans, and the accolades suck me right back in. It’s been like this for a year but has become progressively worse the last four months. It doesn’t help that the scene we experimented with nearly two years ago is what the fans cling to. Now I’m playing a role, which is exactly what I don’t want to do. If I wanted to pretend to be someone I’m not, I wouldn’t do porn to achieve that. I want to be who I really am. It’s what drew me to this career in the first place, but I’m afraid I’m locked into this vision of what the fans want. We tested it out, tried different scenes, but without fail, Daddy Dom is the one that lights the fans up. And since they pay the bills, we do what they want.

  “Are you guys just about ready?” the director asks.

  “Yeah, yeah. I’m ready,” Arian says, glancing at his reflection once more.

  “Ready as I’m going to be,” I answer, shrugging.

  The scene we’re doing is particularly difficult, but we promised it was coming. We’ve had to get increasingly more aggressive in our scenes to feed the fans. What started as a fairly typical and loving Daddy/boy relationship has devolved into borderline BDSM. Newsflash: I’m not into BDSM.

  It’s all I can do to maintain an erection now while roughing Arian up in front of a camera. Whether he likes it is difficult to determine since the only thing out of his mouth are reminders about delivering fan expectations. I thought I was a fame whore, but Arian blows me away. He’s also a diva and prone to throwing tantrums when he doesn’t get his way. Frankly, it’s exhausting dealing with him.

  So I’ve spent the last half-hour mentally preparing to tie him up, smack him around, call him names, and thoroughly debase him while fucking the life out of him. Good times.

  “All right then, take your places,” the director says.

  Wearing just his lace panties, Arian moves to the bed in the rented hotel room. He’s waiting primly with his hands in his lap, and as soon as the director calls action, he’ll transform into The Angel. He gazes up at me behind thick false lashes, a pout on his filler-plumped lips, and a look of slight disdain gracing his pretty face. His blond hair is in sweet ringlets, giving him an air of innocence I wish actually existed.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask.

  “Nothing.” He brushes imaginary lint from his bare thigh. “You just don’t seem into it today, Legend.”

  “I’m as into it as I need to be.”

  The film crew busies themselves around us, finalizing the lighting before the director yells, ‘action.’

  Sure enough, Arian takes on a submissive role, his face turning passive and innocent, his chest heavy with bated breath. He knows what the fans love and he’s giving it to them in spades. I approach aggressively, pushing him back onto the bed and straddling him.

  “Were you a good boy for Daddy?” I ask, brushing my fingers across the smoothness of his cheek.

  Arian whimpers. “Yes, Daddy. I was good.”

  “Then do you deserve a reward?”

  “Oh, Daddy. I definitely deserve a reward.”

  “Yeah? What would you like?”

  Arian bats his eyes, somehow forcing his cheeks to blush as he gazes up at me, helpless under my strong, much bigger body. “Daddy?” He bites his bottom lip. “Can I have your dick as a reward?”

  I stroke my cock, willing it to stay hard. “I think we can manage that, Angel.”

  And I do. I go through the paces, flipping him over, turning him inside out, licking and biting, sucking and slapping, and, finally, getting to what they all watch for. The fucking.

  Imagining the entire time that I’m somewhere else with someone else, helps a lot. In my mind, I’m the Daddy I want to be, the one I am at my core, which is a far cry from the Legend you see on screen. Sadly, I’ve learned to become an excellent actor.

  As difficult as it is, I make it through the scene. Arian is lying on the bed: sweaty, marked up, and covered in cum. The director calls cut, and I step back, returning to the Legend I know myself to be inside.

  Arian excuses himself and goes into the bathroom to clean himself up while the director and camera crew pack things up.

  The director, Bobby, walks over to me with a critical look on his face. “I just got to be honest, man,” h
e says. “That wasn’t your best.”

  Defensiveness washes over me. “What do you mean by that?”

  Bobby sighs. “Hey, I’m just saying, if you’re not feeling it, it shows. That felt almost rehearsed.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me to stop and redo it then?”

  Bobby gives me a hard look. “Honestly? It’s been like this for a few weeks, man. I was hoping you would snap out of it soon, but I think you should consider what you need to change if it’s not working for you anymore. The fans will notice soon, and when they do, we all know what happens after that.”

  His words hit me hard. I thought I was pulling it off. Bobby is the best in the business, and if he notices, I’m not pulling shit off. Once they’re gone, and I’m dressed, I wait for Arian to pack up his things. He throws on his hoodie, glancing at me with pursed lips, and I know another fight is coming within mere seconds.

  “I heard what Bobby told you, and he’s right,” he says, his voice clipped and far from angelic.

  “Yeah,” I answer noncommittally.

  “What are you going to do about it, Legend? You can’t ruin what we have.”

  “I’m doing the best I can, Arian.”

  He puts his hands on his hips. “What does that mean? Are you having some kind of crisis?”

  “No, I am not having a crisis. We’ve been over this a million times.”

  Arian rolls his eyes at me and throws his head back. “This again. I’m so sorry, Daddy Legend. It must be so hard for you to fuck a beautiful boy. Do you know how many men would like to be in your place?”

  “Maybe it’s time you let some of them be in my place then, Arian, instead of threatening me with it every single time we have a scene.”

  “What is that supposed to mean? Are you threatening me?”

  “I’m not threatening you. I’m just sick of going through this. I’m sick of all of this.”

  Arian’s eyes narrow. “You better be careful with what you’re saying and thinking about, mister. We all know the fans will take my side if anything goes down between us. You and I both know that you’re here because I equal fame and money for you. Without me, you are nothing.”

  “For fuck’s sake, Arian, that’s not true, and if it is, maybe I don’t give a fuck anymore.”

  “Oh, you give a fuck. If you didn’t, then what were you doing fifteen minutes ago slapping me around and calling me a dick slut?”

  Fuck! He’s totally right. I run my fingers through my hair. This is my fork in the road; my moment to decide if I’m willing to continue giving up who I am and the happiness that led me to porn in the first place, or if I’ve had enough?

  When I look down at Arian, his face twisted with anger, his arms crossed over his body, the answer is blatantly clear.

  “I’m done, Arian.”

  He looks incredulous. “What?”

  “I said I’m done. I can’t do this anymore.”

  “Can’t do what anymore, Legend?”

  Bracing myself, I form the words on my lips that I’ve practiced in my head several times over the past few months. “Be with you. Do this. Be Legend. I can’t do it anymore. I’m done.”

  Arian’s face burns red hot. “You are not breaking up with me. You are not ending this.”

  “Yeah, actually, I am.” I let the words settle over me for a few minutes, imagining waking up tomorrow without Arian beside me. Fuck that feels good. It feels better than good. It feels like freedom and like everything I’ve ever wanted. I look back at him with a smile on my face. “Yeah, I’m done.”

  He panics, rushing toward me. “You’ll ruin us, Legend. You can’t do that to me. This is all I have.”

  “Funny. Two seconds ago you said I was nothing without you, so I’m pretty sure you’ll find another Daddy who can come in, treat you like a piece of shit, and help you continue with your goals.”

  “But it’s us, Legend. That’s the magic. You know this.” He grabs my arm. “Please think about what you’re doing here.”

  “I am thinking about it. I told you before this is not the kind of Daddy I want to be. I don’t like how I treat you when the cameras are on, and I don’t like how you treat me when they’re off. Why can’t we just admit it’s not working anymore? You’re not happy. I’m not happy.”

  “Maybe if you go look at your bank account right now, you’ll remember why you’re happy with me. We have the awards coming up. You can’t do this right now. Just...stay a little longer. We can cool things down until the awards are done.”

  “The awards are based on work we’ve already done, Arian. I can’t do another scene. You heard Bobby. It’s showing.” I exhale slowly, knowing the next words need to be said no matter how difficult they are. “You don’t love me. I’m not sure you ever have, but I know that you don’t now.”

  “And you love me?”

  “Sadly, yeah, I do, but what we’ve become isn’t what I want or need. If you want to meet me in the middle, take a step back from what we’ve created here and rethink things, I’d be open to that. But I can’t keep going like this.”

  His face falls. “But we tried other things and they didn’t work. They didn’t hit with the fans. This is a cash cow for us, Legend. How can you think about walking away from it?”

  “Arian, let me ask you something. What’s more important to you, me and this relationship or the fans and the money?”

  Arian stares at me for so long the answer isn’t necessary. It’s clear in his eyes. I feel a slight tug at my heart. Maybe it’s the last little bit of love I have for him slipping away, quickly replaced by what feels like concrete. It’s all too much. I should have ended this a long time ago.

  “I’m sorry. I think this is what’s best for both of us.”

  His face hardens. “I will ruin you on social media. If you think for one minute the fans won’t side with me, you’re wrong. They love me, and at the end of this, you’ll be the bad guy for leaving me.”

  “You know what, Arian? I think I’m okay with that.” I grab my duffle bag, tossing it over my shoulder but pausing before I head to the door. I glance back at him, waiting to feel a moment of remorse or an inkling of love, maybe even a tinge of desire to rekindle what we once had, but I feel nothing. Actually, maybe what I feel is relief that this is finally over.

  “For what it’s worth, Arian, I loved you, and I did all of this for you. I hope you get everything you’ve ever wanted, even if that doesn’t include me.”

  “You’re going to regret this, Legend. Mark my words.”

  “Maybe, but what I’ll never regret is doing what’s right for me. Bye, Arian.”

  “Fuck you, Legend.”

  Not surprised by his venom, I walk out of the hotel room, closing the door behind me and feeling like a one hundred-pound weight has been lifted from my shoulders. I may regret this decision professionally, but I know in my heart I’ll never regret it personally. I don’t know what the future holds, but I know it’s going to be on my terms. I’ll never let another pretty face change my goals.

  Before I’m even in my car, my phone is blowing up with notifications. I open my Twitter account. Arian already posted a picture of himself, with obviously fake tears running down his cheeks, announcing that I just broke up with him. Exhaling slowly, I rub my forehead, knowing that, within the next thirty minutes, I’ll be the villain of Porn Land and there will be twenty Daddies lining up to take my spot.

  Maybe now is the right time for me to take a step back, re-evaluate what I want, and think about how to move forward. Because one thing that Arian is absolutely right about? The fans are one hundred percent going to take his side. Once this is all said and done, it’s possible no one will even care about me anymore, and that’s something I’m going to have to deal with.

  Later. For now, I just want to go home.

  By the time I pull into my driveway forty minutes later, it’s clear that Arian was right.

  I’m completely ruined.

  Two

  Legend


  Nine months later…

  * * *

  Stepping into the convention center, I pause, hesitating to be seen in public for the first time since the scandal with Arian. True to his word, he spent six months dragging my reputation through the mud. The porn industry fans consider me a predator, a manipulator, an asshole. I’ve endured thousands of messages verbally assaulting me for hurting “The Angel,” and I’ve been inundated with images and videos of the work he’s done with new men since me. I’m honestly happy for him that he could continue working. His popularity took a hit, though, and as the fans are quick to point out, it’s my fault. Our chemistry was unique. Occasionally, I even get a drunk text or voice message from Arian, begging me to come back and proposing it would be an epic pro move for us to reconcile.

  I’ve considered it. I miss performing, but the way my mind and soul have settled since breaking up with Arian is stronger than the pull of being in front of the camera again. Going back would break the internet, but my peace is too high a price to pay.

  That’s why entering this conference right now is terrifying. I will undoubtedly be recognized, but these are professionals. No fans, no talent, except those like me seeking a spot behind the camera. I figured, why not try? I filmed a lot of the early scenes between Arian and me. It’s a chance to be back in the world I miss so much, without performing. Baby steps. Taking a deep breath, I continue walking. I’m ready for this. I just hope I haven’t been out of the spotlight so long that no one remembers me.

  In the main room, I pause again, overwhelmed by the sheer number of people. I thought it would be a smaller event. Panic rises in my chest. I’m not sure I can do this. Glancing around, I look for water. Seeing a station near the back, I turn and head for it, avoiding interacting with the main crowd.

 

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