Becoming His Collection

by Haley Monroe

  Becoming His

  Novella Collection

  Haley Monroe

  Copyright © 2017 by Haley Monroe

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed “Attention: Permissions Coordinator,” at the address below.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  **Content warning.

  Intended for ages 18 and over. This story contains BDSM elements like spankings, sex toys, bondage, other sexual situations and submissive elements. Also has language that may not be suitable for everyone. If any of these things are not your cup of tea, please don’t purchase this book.

  Haley Monroe

  Editor: J&M Editing and Design

  Cover Design: JC Clarke of The Graphics Shed

  Printed in the United States of America

  First Printing, 2017

  Contents

  Seeking is Touch

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Sorry Not Sorry

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Bad Kitten

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Daddy’s Birthday Surprise

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Playing For Keeps

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Epilogue

  Becoming His Christmas

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  About the Author

  Also by Haley Monroe

  Seeking is Touch

  To the beautiful Katherine Anderson,

  From the other side of the world, your support warms me and your friendship shines a light in my darkest of days.

  Thank you for being you!

  -Dr. Jekyll *Wink*

  1

  The parking lot is crammed full of people itching to get their caffeine fix but I’m here for another reason. A Daddy fix. I’ve never done this before and I’m not sure I should be doing it now, but he’s convinced me to be brave. To give something new a try, to give him a try. Truth be told, I didn’t need all that much convincing.

  My stilettos strike a powerful sound against the pavement as I make my way towards the coffee shop. The cold wind whips at my exposed legs and face, making me walk faster, seeking the warmth and sweet smells of the busy coffee shop. The white pea coat I’m wearing does little to keep the winter chill from my body, but the idea of the man waiting for me inside has me burning up.

  A stranger exiting the shop holds the door open for me. My hands clutch the scarf at my throat and I search his face for any signs that he could be the man I’m meeting. He smiles politely as I slow down to thank him but gives me only a brief nod before wishing me a good day. My lips purse as I watch him leave the same way I’d just come. Obviously, that couldn’t be him.

  The door closes and the bells above chime, signaling to everyone that I’m here. At least that’s how it feels, but no one looks up. My eyes scan the room, so many different types of people are gathered here. Many sit at the tables, typing away on laptops while others are grouped together, chatting happily over steaming cups of coffee. The air smells delicious as I inhale my courage and step up to the line at the counter.

  I turn my back to the person in front of me and again try to search for the man I’ve come here to meet. Thrills of nervous excitement tingle up my spine as I look around. I’m meeting a man I’ve never met, but we’re in a public place. Nothing bad can happen, no lines can be crossed in here. It’s far too busy, far too many eyes to watch him turn me into a dirty, little girl for his pleasure. Eek, why does that thought turn me on so fucking much?

  In my mind, every man in the building is possibly him, but none of them fit his description perfectly. He’s supposed to be well over six foot and fit. But isn’t everyone perfect online? His eyes should be dark brown and his short hair the same color but dusted with salt and pepper.

  The shop is large and even though the winter sun floods in through the windows, it still seems too dim. There are too many “cozy” corners for my man to hide himself from me. I’m sure by now you’re wondering what the fuck is going on? Let me give you a quick back story to how we got here.

  Two months ago, I was complaining to my best friend Miranda that I couldn’t find the right Dominate to fit my submissive tastes. When you leave the vanilla life behind you, you’ll find all the colors of the rainbow on the other side. Some Doms are kind and some are evil. Some are too heavy handed while others couldn’t even swat a fly. Some are men who like the idea of power, but don’t know how to wield it. They can’t find a way to demand it and own it. I need a man who makes me want to give him control over my will, without much more than a single look, a fleeting glance that tells me he knows he owns me and that it pleases both of us. Finding a perfect match amongst all the wanna-be’s and faker’s, is like searching for needle in a haystack. It can feel daunting and impossible.

  But thankfully, Miranda has been in the lifestyle longer than I have and knows a lot more people. She gave me the email address of a man she said she’d known for a while, Jacob Hoff. He’s a longtime friend of her own Dominant and a man she felt was honest and trustworthy. She thought he might be just what I was looking for. I doubted her matchmaking skills greatly but was at a loss. I needed someone to help me work through my emotions, anxieties and…well, my fucking life.

  So, I emailed him.

  What did I have to lose?

  At first, he asked a lot of questions about me and I felt weird. Like he was interviewing me and in a sense, I guess he was. Jacob asked about my sexual experiences and which kinks I liked to partake in the most. As each kink was brought up, he wanted to know more, he wanted to understand why I liked the things I do. Did I like the sting of a paddle more than the blunt blow delivered by the bare hand of my lover? Was I opposed to be being tied down and shared with other partners? He dug down into my deepest, darkest fantasies and examined them in the light of day.

  What’s more important though is how he dove head first into the things I really hate about myself. My weight, my looks, my fucking scatter brain. There isn’t much about me that I actually like. I “forget” to eat often, it’s not a big deal. I’m not super unhealthy, I just don’t need the extra calories. Jacob hates it. He asks me about my eating habits daily and tries to figure out how to help me. He says the problem isn’t my weight, it’s in my mind. A lack of self-love or some hippie mumbo jumbo, I don’t know. Anyway, he has rules about eating and taking care of myself. If I disobey, there are consequences.

  We discussed other forms of punishments and what would be expected if I were t
o play as one of his submissives in real life. Jacob encouraged me to call him Daddy, because that’s how a relationship with him would work. He would set rules and guidelines, things that would come with consequences and punishments if they were disobeyed. Also, because pursuing a relationship with him would mean that he would care for and protect me like a father figure should.

  I’d called a lot of men “Daddy” in the bedroom over the years and had never gave the name a second thought. Who cares? It’s not like they were really my biological parent, it wasn’t about incest or anything like that, and it was for fun. Because saying ‘Daddy’ during sex is just hot. When he explained why he deserved the title, the reason turned me into a puddle of horny goo. A man who yearned to take care of me? To help guide me through this madness we call life? Um, hell yes, I’m down for that.

  You can tell yourself whatever you want to believe but life is hard, like really hard. That’s why people have partners. There are so many decisions and so much pressure to make the right one. I’m capable of deciding for myself of course, but to have help? I’d be first in line for a Daddy Dom but with Jacob now in my life it seemed like maybe I wouldn’t have to wait in a line. Today, we’re going to find out if we really are a good match and I can’t friggin’ wait.

  Jacob was flirtations over the first few weeks we began emailing and while we discussed sex, he wasn’t overly sexual with me. He spoke to me kind of like a doctor, like he was taking in all of my symptoms and figuring out just how to diagnose and treat me. It drove me crazy. I wanted him to tell me all the dirty things he could do to my body that would leave me drained of my adult nonsense and eager for more but he refused. He kept digging into my mind, peeling back the ideas I have about myself and really exposing me, to both of us. I suppose you could say that talking with him was like therapy, way cheaper and much more effective. When I answered his questions, he wanted to know why I felt that way and by finding an answer for him, I got to know myself better in the process.

  When you discover your kinky side, sometimes it’s hard to deal with. For a long time, I struggled with the dirty things I found sexy. What the fuck is wrong with me, that I need pain to get off? Why do I want a man to stand over me, spit in my mouth and call me his fucking whore? Like, these things can really mess a girl up if you don’t have someone to speak honestly about them with. I realized that the kind of pain I sought out during sex was pain I was in control of. Not a force I had no say in, obviously, but pain I didn’t have to deliver on my own. It’s crazy to think, how much of our childhood can really fuck up our adult selves. I know now that my past gives insight to my future.

  I can’t control the things that have happened to me, but I don’t have to live in them either. Every day is about living in the moment and loving who I am. That’s something I wasn’t into two months ago. I mean I’m still a work in progress but I can see the difference in my thought process now.

  You know how some men just crawl under your skin and get to you? Jacob is exactly that kind of man. I’ve never seen his face but I can picture his expressions. I’ve never felt his hands on my skin but when he tells me just how his fingers would sink into my pussy, I swear to God I can feel it.

  He didn’t have to tell me how he would spank me, for me to believe that he would do it better than anyone else on this planet. He didn’t have to tell me he had a giant cock that would rule me for the rest of my life, but I knew it. I just knew this man would ruin me for all others. My skin burned for his touch, I ached for his gaze to be upon me but most desperately of all, I wanted to please him. It was intoxicating how just his words could make me weak. I wanted more of him.

  After just a few weeks, I was addicted to him. He’d told me very little about himself which kept me curious and anxious to know more. That’s when I asked if we could meet in person. Jacob agreed but warned me that his schedule was a very busy one and finding time to properly introduce ourselves might be tricky.

  He wasn’t joking either. His work is demanding and requires him to fly back and forth across the country. He didn’t say exactly what he does, just that “business is good.” I probably should have been more inquisitive but it isn’t his job that I’m after, or the money he makes doing it. It’s him I want.

  Instead of meeting in person right away, he gave me his phone number and allowed me to call him. I think I accidently fell in love with his voice the very first time we spoke. It’s so deep and steady that my girly parts go bananas when we talk. When the phone calls started, our relationship kicked up a notch.

  Have you ever had phone sex before? Well, I have. A lot. Maybe I should be ashamed to admit it but I’m not. Anyway, normally I lounge about whispering “ohhs” and “ahhs” as the dude grunts and growls his way to self-satisfaction but not with Jacob. Instead of just telling me he wanted to fuck me, he instructed me on how to pleasure myself. I thought I was pretty good at masturbating but holy fucking hell was I wrong. With his voice and my hands, I’ve had some of the best orgasms of my life.

  After two months, lots of phone sex and countless emails, today is the day I’m going to meet him. I’ve never seen a picture of him and Miranda refuses to tell me more about his looks. She’d give me a teasing smile when I asked and giggle, “If he wanted you to see, he would have shown you.” Gah, best friends can be such a pain in the ass! I’m pretty sure she would have warned me if he was ugly though, she’s a bitch but she’s a loyal bitch.

  The line in the coffee shop is moving at a glacial pace and I can’t seem to pinpoint a man in the shop whom I’m sure could be my Jacob, my Daddy. I dig into my purse and pull out my cell phone to text him.

  “I’m here.”

  My fingers curl tightly around the phone as I wait for him to reply. The front door chimes and my head snaps up, in hopes that maybe it’s him entering the shop. It’s a woman with a baby on her hip and a toddler who runs straight for the sparkly display of coffee mugs and water bottles. The small child grabs one cup and knocks down six others. They clatter to the floor near my feet and I bend carefully to help the mother straighten the cup display. I say carefully, because I’m almost naked under my pea coat per Jacob’s orders.

  I’m wearing exactly what you would imagine when thinking of a high-class prostitute. My black stocking come up to midthigh and are secured in place by a black, lacy garter belt. A matching black thong sits just over the garter belt and a matching bra finishes off the look. Not only did Jacob tell me how to dress for today but he had the outfit delivered to my house yesterday. The coat is as white as fresh fallen snow and thankfully falls just past my knees, hiding my nakedness underneath.

  Just as I pass the last plastic cup to the other woman, my phone vibrates against my palm. My belly flip flops and suddenly I’m more nervous than I had been all morning. My lower lip gets caught between my teeth as I swipe my finger over the screen to find a message waiting for me. I click it quickly and read his words.

  I know.

  A smile pulls at my lips and again I look over the room. So many of the men in here are on their phones. It’s impossible to determine if one of them is him. I begin to text back as the line moves forward by another foot.

  Are you watching me?

  This time I don’t look away from my phone. I watch as the tiny dots begin to cycle through, letting me know he’s typing back.

  Of course, I am, kitten.

  My heart rate speeds up and I can feel sweat begin to bead at my hairline. I stand up straighter and feel myself sucking in my stomach. He’s watching me. Right now. I inhale deeply again and remind myself that I want this.

  And when will the big, bad wolf come out of hiding?

  I wish I had put my hair up, it feels so heavy against my back and is making me so hot. I swipe my hand under the thick, blonde curtain of my hair and pull it over my left shoulder. That does nothing to cool me so I try to unwind the infinity scarf, gracefully from around my neck.

  Another customer is served and all of us in line take a step forward. Ther
e are two more people in front of me and then I have to figure out where to sit. Will I be able to spot him by then? What if I can’t and have to stand there like an awkward high school student who doesn’t know where to sit at lunch?

  When I’ve had my fill of looking at your gorgeous legs. Tell me kitten, do you think those stockings will feel as good coming off as they did going on?

  My pussy contracts at the idea of him removing my stockings. They did feel good when I put them on. I haven’t worn stockings since I was a child and rolling up the nylon, then gliding it up my shaved legs felt sinful. Better yet, when I walk, the nylon rubs together between my thick thighs and almost vibrates, sending shivers of sensation up to my pussy. My tongue swipes across my dry lips and I reply.

  I’m eager to find out, daddy.

  His reply is quick and simple.

  Good girl.

  My body practically hums. My memory recalls him speaking those words after each of the orgasms he’s gifted me and as if I’m one of Pavlov’s dogs, the praise makes my pussy practically drool. My thighs clench as my panties dampen and I know my cheeks are flushed. It’s so hot in here! Just because its winter, it doesn’t mean these shops should turn the heat up to a million degrees. I wish I could take my coat off but I can’t without possibly going to jail for indecent exposure. My phone buzzes again, distracting me from my frazzled thoughts.