Sugar Daddies

by Celia Crown

  Those heels may look comfortable; however, they are anything but. They are new shoes, so I never had the time to break into them; the back scratched my ankle, and I felt like my toes were being squished in them.

  I spread my toes on the marble bathroom floor and wince at the red marks that were from the scuffling. I’m going to have to put some cooling cream on them to reduce the redness before Daddy sees them and burn the heels.

  The heels are pretty, and I hate to see them gone after a single use. I can tell that they are expensive too. He doesn’t have anything cheap in the mansion; even my hairbrush costs hundreds of dollars. The need to treat everything with delicacy haunts me because they’re just too expensive; money is not a problem to Daddy, but I wasn’t born rich. The bathtub is ginormous with high-quality materials, and the water is the clearest thing apart from filtered water, but I don’t want the clarity. I want a pretty galaxy exploding with bubbles; that is the type of bath that I want to submerge myself into.

  Maybe I’ll waste more time and wait for Daddy to finish his conversation with Mr. Stephan. I can never sleep without Daddy; my body is conditioned to seek out his warmth, and the iron bars of his arms are the perfect shield from the monsters under the bed.

  Speaking of Mr. Stephan, he said this is his home too. The remaining mystery is if Daddy knows, but that isn’t the only mystery. My mind is so baffled that I don’t even understand what I don’t understand.

  I’m going to let Daddy handle it; it is his home, so he has the final say in everything.

  I hum an upbeat tune as I shimmy out of the black dress; the fabric pools around my feet as I step out with a small skip. I rummage through the cabinets for my stash of colorful bath bombs. I find the perfect one which doesn’t look all too beautiful in the ball form.

  Once I drop it down on the hot water, it disintegrates into a wave of black, blue, and glittery silver for a road of the milky way.

  It has a faint lavender smell that is perfect. I throw my underwear and bra to the floor. The redness on my feet stings for a moment as the hot water comes in contact with the rawness.

  That doesn’t stop me from submerging into the water as it embraces me with a ton of bubbles; the magic happens when I close my eyes; my muscles quiver with the slow movements of the water, and the calming scent from the bubbles makes me love lavender even more.

  Jasmine is a nice scent too. I’ll use that next time and ask Daddy to join me. He’s been working hard these days, and I want to treat him to a nice, relaxing bath.

  That is if he lets me.

  I always get through the routine halfway, and he’s out of the bathtub in a second. He’s not much of a stationary person. He doesn’t like wasting time when he could be working, but he likes to waste time on giving me time-out when I’m a brat for his attention.

  I can’t help it; he forgets about me when he’s busy in his business. It doesn’t happen often, but I remember every second of such time, and I hate it.

  It’s lonely without his attention.

  I lift my hands up and watch the glittery water slip from my fingers. I close my hands around the remaining waters to trap the glitter, but it all falls back down on the water. Bubbles pop as the water hits them, but they stay relatively strong as I run my hands through them.

  The tub is big enough for me to turn on my tummy and still be under the hotness; my hair is up in a bun to prevent it from getting wet as I don’t feel like blow-drying it tonight.

  It’s too long and too thick; it takes me a good fifteen minutes to dry it thoroughly for bed.

  I hum the tune again and kick my feet up through the bubbles while counting the little imperfections on the tile wall. Each square has a curved edge, and they have tiny specks of things mixed into the marble; it’s a galaxy in its own way, and I’m tracing the patterns with my eyes.

  Some of them could be constellations if I knew what they looked like, but I don’t, and I suddenly have the urge to study the shape of Hercules.

  It would be a nice habit to take upon; it’s not dangerous, and it can curb my boredom when Daddy is too busy with his company.

  I lay my forehead on the bathtub, and the water laps at my chin. The heat is making me dizzy as my fingers are wrinkled. I’m a prune with glitter stuck on me, but at least I smell like a field of flowers.

  Daddy will appreciate that I smell good for him when we go to bed, though he did complain one time that the smell of vanilla was too strong.

  Daddy doesn’t complain. He brings up concerns since he refuses to admit that he complained. I don’t see why he feels the need to be embarrassed about it, I whine a lot, and it is over trivial things most of the times.

  It wouldn’t hurt his image; Daddy is the purest form of an alpha male, but then Mr. Stephan came in, and now there’s two of the purest form.

  I shudder just from the thought of an argument between them. I know Daddy is a determined man with a stubborn attitude; he’s like a brick wall. Mr. Stephan looks about the same, and it’s a fight that I don’t want to witness.

  Gut feeling tells me that neither of them will ever back down from a fight, and it’s even worse when the opponents have same characteristics as each other.

  One has searing ruthlessness and the other has cold brutality.

  Would they talk it out like gentlemen or use violence like gladiators?

  No matter which side wins, I can’t imagine it because neither of the scenarios seems plausible.

  “I would win,” I grin to myself and throw droplets of water over to the front of my head with my swimming feet.

  Then I really think about it, “Well… maybe not.”

  “I could run away, and that would get Daddy’s attention. He’d probably come to find me and stop the fight with Mr. Stephan,” I muse to myself with a swoosh of my body to rock the water up to my neck.

  I giggle at the ticklish nip as it recedes back down to my shoulders. If the tub is just a tad bit bigger, I can practice swimming in here, not that I have any desire to be near the ocean since the unknown should remain unknown and far away from me, and pools have too much chlorine that my hypersensitive body hates.

  I wasn’t like this when I was little, but the more I grow, the more I realize that the world is set out to stomp on me. I’m not an outdoor type of girl, and I would get drained of blood by mosquitoes; they tend to favor my blood over every human being on earth.

  Shaking my head, I sit up from the tub and turn to drain the milky water. A trail of silver glitter swirls down the drain as a ring of blue coats the bathtub. I stand to make sure the rest of the water has a smooth path of going down.

  I take a good amount of time to clean off the glitter and run the soap twice over my body to get rid of the blue foam that clings onto my body.

  Once I deem it’s good enough to get out, I fish for the towel and wrap it tightly around me. It’s fluffy, but it’s too cold to take advantage of the fine material.

  My feet slap on the marble bathroom floor and into the gorgeous wood coated in a protective film; it’s a shame that I’m almost never in here to enjoy the beauty of it.

  I get dressed quickly in the spare clothes in the closet, and I’m distracted by the number of clothes that I have not seen before. I chalk it up to Daddy spoiling me again. I barely have enough limbs to try on all the clothes in his room.

  It’s technically our bedroom, but I like to call it his because it is his.

  My next stop is the kitchen. I barrel my way through the halls of this mansion, but I make it there with a big smile as I swing open the refrigerator. The gallon of milk sits innocently on the middle rack with fruits surrounding it.

  I shouldn’t have sugar close to bedtime, so I ignore the temptation and take the milk out in a cup.

  Many people would question if I was okay because I warm up my milk in the microwave oven, but cold milk wakes me up rather than help me sleep.

  As I sip the drink, something catches my attention, and it’s a pretty orange box with a big purple
bow on top. I put my cup on the kitchen island and pull the box to me. I examine it for a gift card to indicate who it is for or any markings that would show Daddy’s company’s logo.

  There is nothing, and I’m always weak against things that scream do not open. My fingers unwrap the ribbons and open the top lid to peek inside.

  I’m sure it’s a present from Daddy; he likes to leave gifts for me to find and this sounds like something he would do.

  If it’s not and it’s Mr. Stephan’s, then I can just tie it back and pretend nothing happened.

  Just one little peek won’t hurt if they don’t know. I’m expecting something materialistic or trinkets, maybe a new type of candy that Daddy has made, and he wants me to taste it for him.

  It’s none of that; the content is a box with golden covers.

  Curiosity kills the cat, and I reach down to pick up the box. It’s too light to be anything decorative, but it has some weight to it.

  A whiff of chocolate hits me, and I’m throwing the cover off to see a row of perfectly made chocolate. All chocolate shapes are coated in a sheet of gold and a faint hint of citrus blends with the dark chocolate.

  I need a taste.

  The gold stains my fingers as the fine powder melts in my mouth along with the burst of citrus flavor as I bite into the dark chocolate. Everything about this one piece of chocolate sends me to nirvana. I have never tasted anything like this before, and it doesn’t hurt my teeth.

  The citrus cuts away the bitterness and the sugary gold dust melts in my mouth in one heavenly taste. I would kiss the hands of whoever made this because I will beg them to give me more.

  I have no self-control as I take one after another with no concept of the amount of sugar I have taken in. Time eludes me as I keep indulging in the citrusy goodness.

  My fingers are dustily gold, and my lips are tainted too, but I lick them away while picking up another. I’m not someone who savors anything; the only thing my mind is capable of is to get the next burst of flavor on my tongue.

  “What the fuck are you doing?”

  I squeal in fright; the voice full of grouchiness startles me, and I drop the piece of chocolate in the box. Dread settles in my tummy as I mentally berate myself for not being careful. I should have taken the whole box and ran to my bedroom so I can devour it in my own privacy.

  However, my privacy doesn’t exist in Daddy’s eyes.

  I spin around to face not one but two men, and one of them is not happy. It’s an easy guess as to whose voice I heard because I’m programmed to narrow down Daddy’s voice in the smallest pitch.

  I’m caught red-handed with gold fingers and dusty lips, and I don’t dare to look over at Mr. Stephan.

  It’s probably his box of chocolate; maybe it’s for a girlfriend.

  The bitterness on my tongue amplifies, and I hate that thought. I don’t want him to like someone else—

  Wait, no. I shouldn’t care what he does. He’s not my Daddy.

  “I asked you a question, little girl.” Daddy steps close to me and forces me to look up at him through a tight grip around my jaw.

  “Tasting?” I try to grin to make the situation less intense.

  That doesn’t work because Daddy is glaring down on me with a thousand daggers, “You know better than to eat sugar at night.”

  “I know,” my lips turn down as I say, “But, it has my name on it.”

  He swipes the gold dust with his thumb on my bottom lip, “On it?”

  I stammer guiltily, “I-it was calling my name, Daddy. I couldn’t resist it; the urge was too strong!”

  “I don’t want to hear excuses,” Daddy hisses as he pushes his thumb down on my bottom lip.

  I wince and try my best to ease the raging storm in his eyes with my puppy-dog expression, “I’m sorry, Daddy.”

  “I’m not the one you should be saying that to,” he said while taking his thumb and licking off the gold dust.

  I watch his tongue slither back with a blush; he’s too handsome not to ogle at. Daddy slips to my side and lets Mr. Stephan take his place. The man casts a shadow over me, and I swallow thickly.

  The rich chocolate coats my mouth, and I hold back the need to clear my throat.

  “I’m sorry…” I murmur softly.

  My shoulders jump at Mr. Stephan’s hand as it coils around my neck. He thumbs at my pulse when he smiles, and my heart taps insistently at my ribs.

  “What was that, little princess?” Mr. Stephan cocks an eyebrow.

  I purse my lips and turn to look at Daddy for guidance. His face doesn’t show anything as he silently waits for my next move.

  I’m still trying to figure out if this is a test from him or if he’s really okay with me touching another man.

  “Don’t look at him; you’re talking to me.” Mr. Stephan jerks my face back to him, and I hold back a whine. He doesn’t have to be so rough.

  Daddy and Mr. Stephan are impatient cavemen. I don’t dare to say that out loud. I’m not looking forward to hearing Daddy’s voice calling me a bad girl while lecturing me about manners.

  “I’m sorry… Daddy,” I try again, and it works this time. His grip lessens its pressure, and I can move my jaw around to get some feeling back.

  From the frequency of my jaw being seized by their hands, I’m sure I have developed strong skin at that spot, so it doesn’t bruise easily.

  I sneak a peek at Daddy, and he isn’t mad, so I can sigh a breath of relief, but the ordeal isn’t over just yet. I still have the chocolate that I need to explain to Mr. Stephan. I’m armed with several excuses, but with one look, he renders me speechless.

  It’s a smile of a devil. There is nothing angelic about him from the beginning.

  “It was supposed to be a surprise for you,” he mentions briefly as if it’s no big deal.

  When I’m about to apologize again, he hushes me with a glare. “I’m not angry, little princess.”

  Oh, thank god. I was starting to think about different ways to make it up to him, and money seems to be the common denominator. The box of chocolate has to be expensive for it to taste that amazing, even the gold flicks look exclusive.

  “Was it good?” he asks.

  I bob my head furiously. My doe-eyes are bright when I smile because eating the chocolate made me so happy.

  “Do you want more?”

  The generosity in his offer and the kindness of his tone is a disguise after I had excitedly claimed that I would do anything to get more from him.

  That’s a mistake.

  “You have to do something for me first,” he tilts his head, exposing the column of his throat for the tattoo to poke out from his shirt collar.

  “I want you to be mine too,” he said.

  I whip my head to Daddy with wide eyes. Bells are going off in my head, and I’m frantically begging Daddy with my eyes to help me because this is too much. There should be a manual of how I should act with a proposal thrown at me like that.

  “Answer him,” Daddy said as he crosses those buff arms over his chest.

  Is that a challenge for me to defy him or does he not care? Am I supposed to understand any of this, or should I think that he doesn’t mind Mr. Stephan being my Daddy too?

  I spin back to Mr. Stephan and shuffle my feet to take the edge off my nerves, “I don’t know…”

  He growls, “Do you want to?”

  There is no time for me to shape my lips around the inevitable truth, “Yeah, I want to.”

  Mr. Stephan leans down to my level and smiles; it’s an act of manipulation as a faux sense of security blankets over me.

  “You have to take what you want, little princess. Daddy won’t force you to do anything.”

  No, Mr. Stephan won’t, but Daddy will.

  I take another glance at Daddy, and it worries me that he looks so pleased with my hesitation, either from his rules being drilled in my mind or because I’m too close to be accepting Mr. Stephan.

  “Okay,” I sigh and lean on my tip toes to
press my lips to his.

  The kiss is soft and chaste; I break apart before things get too heated, and I don’t want to cross Daddy’s boundaries.

  We haven’t talked about this yet, and I’m treading on murky waters.

  “It’s late,” Daddy’s hand comes around my head and settles on my forehead to tip my head back. My voice muffles with his kiss as he curls his tongue with mine.

  I blush heatedly as my eyes meet Mr. Stephan’s darkened gaze. Daddy just had to be mean and do this distressingly arousing kiss in front of him.

  Mr. Stephan fists my hair on the back and yanks me closer to slant his lips over mine. He thrusts his tongue inside my mouth, and I’m breathlessly clawing at his shirt.

  “Goodnight, little princess.”

  Chapter Five

  Pepper

  Next morning comes, and I’m pacing in Daddy’s master bedroom while he’s putting on a tie. I can feel his eyes on me, and I’m not bothered by hi gaze.

  “You’re going to tear the floor, little girl,” Daddy grunts.

  I pout and cross my arms over my chest. Daddy promised that he would spend time with me today, but a last-minute phone call comes and destroys my morning.

  I was snuggling in his arms when it rang, and I have never hated the sound more before. Knowing me, Daddy was fast to get out of bed since I was halfway of morphing into an octopus and clinging onto him with my metaphoric suctions.

  I walk over to him. He raises an eyebrow at me as my hand starts to loosen the tie that he had meticulously made. The rumble in his chest is my warning, but I find that it’s easy to block out the menacing voice when I’m determined to take the tie off of his thick neck.

  I take the tie as a hostage and hide it behind my back while I take a step away from him. This distance allows me to calculate what he would do next. There is impatience in his dark eyes as they narrow to mine, and I’m truly frightened for a moment.

  Then I remember this is Daddy and not the business tycoon that dominates the international business. No matter what happens or how stubborn I am, he won’t raise a hand to me. He just spanks my butt, but that is reserved for when I really break his rules.