by Lena Little
“Everything I do with you is my first everything.”
“As it should be. Just hollow out your cheeks and only use your lips. It’s not really a blow job but really a suck job.”
“Why don’t they call it a suck job then?”
“Because suck was already taken for things people don’t like. And blow…” I pause realizing it’s basically the same.
“Daddy’s not sure is he?” she giggles.
“I’ll look that up and get back to you,” I play along, stepping out of my dominant character for reasons unknown. There’s just something about her that causes me to lose it, in all ways. It’s not that I’m playing a dominant character, that’s who I am. Sure, maybe I’m heightening up parts of it or some of the word choice is for our little game, but something about her youthful exuberance makes me feel younger too. Even in the depths of my basement, her light shines bright, overruling my darkness to the point that I’ve got her feet chained, tied up and blindfolded, and she’s still full of joy.
How on earth did I get so lucky?
“Instead of looking it up, how about I lick it up.”
“That sounds way better to me. Now, how about you open up that sexy little mouth for me sweetheart.”
She does exactly as she’s told and I ease back into position, the crown of my rod sliding right past her teeth this time and filling her mouth before finding the back of her throat. Her cheeks hollow and the corners of her lips stretch to take in my size.
“You like Daddy’s lollipop?” I moan.
“Uh huh,” she mumbles as her head raises up and then back down sucking me off with her body at a forty-five degree angle, the rope supporting her.
Keeping one hand firmly in charge of the rope I take the other and very gently place it on the back of her head, not applying any pressure as this is all too new for her. Just feeling her jet black hair underneath my fingers is enough…tonight.
She lifts her head just off my member. “I want to taste you. All of you.”
“Good, because I can’t take much more.”
Lowering herself back on she starts sucking like her life depends on it, her head moving rapidly up and down my shaft causing my balls to quickly pull uptight and my entire body to tighten.
“Baby girl, Daddy’s right there,” I warn, but it’s damn near too late. Seconds later I unleash a geyser, painting her throat with my sticky gift.
She coughs, pulling her head off me and it’s only then I notice a few tears and kick myself for not being more attentive, unlike she is right now, as she swallows down each and every last drop.
“Let’s get you down from there, sugar.”
“Did I do a good job, Daddy?”
“Amazing. You’re truly the best, and mine in all ways. Always,” I confess, shaking my head from side to side in disbelief as I ease her body back down. I just can’t believe how perfect she is in every single possible situation I throw at her. I truly feel like she was created for me and only me. And I know that after tonight there’s a baby being created in her belly, and it’s time to create a family with her forever. And as a jeweler, you better believe the bar is set high.
I’m ready and I accept the challenge.
Carrying her back up to bed and kissing her on the cheek I slide into my study and start sketching out what I hope to be my greatest work…ever. Next to her, that is, because nothing on earth compares to her beauty.
14
Jewel
One week later
It’s been exactly one week since Jake took my innocence and made me his and he’s been the only thing on my mind since, not as if he wasn’t before. But now instead of fantasizing about being with him, all I can think about is what he’s going to do with me when we get home.
Tie me up? Check.
St. Andrew’s Cross? Been there, done that. Facing forward for a spanking and back for a whole host of other things.
The pulley? That seems like child’s play now.
It’s absolutely crazy to think that a week and a day ago I was a virgin and now here I am some sex addict, or at least practically. Maybe I’m making up for lost time since I didn’t lose my V-card like a lot of girls my age did in high school in the age of social media. Or maybe when you find the one, you just want to mate with them all the time. If I were a gambling girl, which I’m not though, I’d choose the latter.
But Jake swears we’re not mating. No matter how many times I ask him why he’s so sure, he’s deadset and steadfast on his belief that I’m already pregnant. Guess we’ll have our first indicator in a couple of weeks when it’s time for my monthly cycle to hit.
And speaking of two weeks, I’ve already given my notice, ready to go to work for my man. I gave it my first day back on the job and now I only have a week more to go. Jake still says I should have just given them a few days, but that’s not my way. I want to do things right, even if I’m one hundred percent sure I’ll never work here, or anywhere but with him, again. If I even work that is. He’s definitely pushed more than a time or two for barefoot and pregnant, although he says he’ll support me in anything I choose, even if that means trying to find a way to fly to the moon. But who needs that when I’m already on cloud nine with stars in my eyes?
“What can I getcha?” I ask as a customer arrives at the counter just as I’m bending down to grab something out of the cabinet at foot level.
“Some answers. That’s what.”
My back stiffens up immediately and I catch my head on the edge of the counter. “Ouch!” I cry out, rubbing away the pain, but there’s a much bigger pain standing right in front of me.
“What are you doing here?” I finally ask when it’s clear she’s not about to go anytime soon.
“What are you doing not answering your phone or your doorbell?”
“You showed up at my house? I left your house specifically so I wouldn’t share the same doorstep with you ever again.”
“Yeah, well I hear you’ve shacked up with that rich as fuck jeweler pretty damn quick. Way I see it you owe me at least half for having your sorry ass.”
After eighteen years of this, it barely stings, or at least that’s the lie I tell myself.
“Mom, I can’t talk now. I’m working, so unless you want to order something then I’d request that you please leave. We’re busy and we only have seats and time for paying customers.”
“Paying customers! You know how much your ass cost me over the years? You know how much it cost to have you?”
“Yes I know because I finally took up the time to look up the birth records. You didn’t have me in a hospital, choosing to give birth to me in a bathtub. And might I add, the same one you like to lie in when you shoot yourself up with too much heroin,” I snarl through gritted teeth, trying not to lose it in front of the world.
“Why you little bitch!” she screams, grabbing a cup of piping hot coffee that I just prepared for delivery, yanking the top off and cocking her arm back to toss it right in my face.
I bring my hands up to my face and duck, trying to cover myself for the third-degree burns that never come.
Slowly I crawl along the floor, not trusting her. I know she’s probably bluffing and once I make myself visible again I’m going to get the piping hot brown liquid thrown right in my face.
“It’s him again,” I hear from one of our regulars and instinctively I know it can only be one person and one person only.
“You ever try to bring harm to my woman again and that will be the last time you see your daughter again, assuming she ever wants to see you again as it is,” his deep baritone warns as I get back on my feet.
“Jake.”
“I know who this is and I can end it now.”
“Kill my mom?” I mouth.
“No. I don’t have to lay a finger on her,” he says, although he very clearly has his hand wrapped around her wrist as she tries to wiggle free. She lunges to bite him and he grabs the back of her neck with his other hand, holding her at a distance like t
he feral cat she is. “As a jeweler I get a lot of cops coming in, wanting to know things about big cash purchases. Not only that I do pieces for a lot of celebrities. I’m not trying to sound important or name drop, but I have connections. And I know your mom’s record, including her abuse of…” he looks around but doesn’t finish. He doesn’t have to. “I’m sorry,” he says softly.
“It’s okay. It was…a long time ago.”
“Something tells me that’s not entirely true.”
“Let me go, asshole.”
“You have the keys to the bathroom?”
“What?” I ask no idea why he’d ask a question like that right now. His eyes zero in on me and my mindset shifts instantly. This is no longer Jake in front of me. This is my Daddy talking. “Yes. Customers have to ask to borrow them.”
“And no one’s in there right now?”
“No,” I reply, looking down to double check.
Jake slides my mom along the tiles toward the bathroom with as much civility and respect as he can, even though my mom’s trying to drop to the ground, drag her feet, or do anything she can think of to stop him from taking her anywhere. Once he reaches the small bathroom, he removes the mirror and toilet paper and quickly shuts the door.
Immediately she’s pounding on the back, but she’s not going anywhere. More importantly, I’m impressed and thankful he’s removed any objects she might think to use to harm herself or cause a big mess.
“You’re holding me hostage. I’ll have you thrown in jail.”
“Everybody out!” Jake orders, pointing to the door. “Drinks are on the house and if you already paid come back tomorrow for a free one, anything you want in whatever size you want.” Nobody is foolish enough to question his authority and everyone scurries to the door. “Including you, Ella,” he adds, to my always annoying co-worker who’s peeking out from the stock room.
“I work here. You can’t order me—“
“Out!” he demands, and wisely she chooses not to push the envelope any further.
Pulling out a chair for me at the table closest to the counter he orders me to, “Sit,” before moving to the window and shutting the curtains as if we’re closing for the night.
“I’ll give the manager any lost revenue and pay for those free drinks myself.”
“It’s not about that, it’s just…what are you doing?”
When he reaches the table he pulls out a seat of his own, quickly engulfing my hands with his, leaning in and looking me right in the eye.
“I knew we’d need to have this conversation. I just didn’t know we’d need to have it this soon.”
I exhale hard, knowing he’s right. Now’s not the most opportune time, but if I’m going to have an opportunity to have the life I want in the future I need to address my past. The question is, just how much does he know about my past?
“I tried to get her help before, but she won’t go to rehab. Multiple interventions have failed because she doesn’t have enough real friends to stand by my side and make her go. Not only that her only ‘friends’ are people she knows through her addiction.”
“I should tell you something,” he breathes out hard. “I know a thing or two about addiction.”
“You were…?” I can’t believe it, and he rebukes my knee-jerk thoughts.
“Never…but my mother was pretty much a carbon copy. Luckily that gene never transferred to me, in terms of substance addiction at least, but I have to be honest with you. I realize now I do have that gene, after thinking my whole life it must have skipped a generation, or disappeared from our bloodline forever.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m addicted to you, and that is all encompassing so I’ll do whatever I need to do, which is exactly whatever you want to do in this situation. If your mother is beyond help, then although that’s a tough decision I understand. If you think there’s something inside her that can be redeemed and not just the drug stuff which we can work to clean up but also those nasty thoughts I heard her spouting, then you know I’ve got your back.”
God, how I love this man. My head tips forward and I breathe out hard again. To be honest I feel like I’ve exhausted every opportunity, that she’s just beyond help as much as it pains me to say it. Then I think back to what Jake and I have together. Although this is my decision part of being with my man, an older experienced man who’s just confided that he’s been in a similar situation in his life, I remind myself that maybe he knows better than I do. He’s here to guide me right? Well, the smartest thing I can do right now is take a bit of wisdom before I make a decision. “What do you think?”
“I think you never give up on family, plain and simple.”
And just like that, the decision becomes crystal clear. “You’re right, but I’m not sure where to start.”
“I am. I know some places that can help her with the first step. They’re out in Arizona, real secluded and she won’t be able to get a hold of anything or be around the negative people that are keeping her down.”
“I’m afraid maybe she’s the most negative of the negative.”
“They’ll dry her out. It might take a month or it might take a year, but they’ll get it done.”
“Jake, we don’t have that kind of money. That must cost a small fortune. I’m barely scraping by with my studio apartment.”
“Yes, we do, remember? You’re my family and that means your mom is my mom now, or at least for all intents and purposes. And like I did with my mom, I won’t give up.”
“Your mom made it through?” I pull my lips back immediately wishing I hadn’t asked that. If he wanted me to know he would have already volunteered that info.
“No, and that’s exactly what’s going to drive me even harder this time, and believe me when I say I thought I tried my hardest the first time with my birth mother, to make this right.”
“But the money.”
“I know at least ten Hollywood clients who have gone there, plus I made the engagement ring for the director of the place. Made their wedding rings too and didn’t charge him a penny. I know they’ve got more rooms than they do occupants. To be completely honest with you it won’t cost me much. I just pay him for the food she eats and we’ll be square.”
“But the counseling and all that other stuff.”
“Counselors are on salary. They have no patients or one hundred, it doesn’t matter. Same thing. Group therapy sessions work the same way. Believe me, doll. I know how you think and I know you don’t like handouts. I know this,” he says, lifting up my chin with the tip of his finger as he often does. “Because I know you.” He pauses. “This isn’t going to cost me more than a few hundred bucks, a thousand tops. I don’t like talking about money, but I know how you are. It’s nothing, really. It’s less than the commission on one piece and a phone call. I’ll have it done and the money made before my head hits the pillow tonight.
“I want to pay,” I blurt out, having no clue where I’m going to get the money, and I don’t want him to try and bake it into my salary as a favor.
“You’re the best kind of brat, you know that?” he says, bringing my hands to his lips and kissing them. “When you signed the lease on that studio apartment you paid for first month’s, last month’s, and the security deposit, right?”
I nod.
“You haven’t stayed there for the last week and it’s time to break that lease. I’ll speak to the landlord about the living conditions, or lack thereof, that he’s providing and that security deposit and last month’s rent will be coming back your way…unless he wants his ass handed to him in court. You put that money towards your mom’s food and I haven’t helped you out one bit. You’ve paid for it. You’re the reason your mom gets better and believe me, she will get better because I’m going to make sure of it.
“There’s something else,” I say softly, knowing now’s the time to bring this up no matter how much it pains me.
“Let me out of here!” she yells, banging on the door and I cringe.
“She’s always blamed me for my dad leaving us.”
“That’s a psychological manipulation thing. How can that be your fault? You weren’t even born.”
“I know, but—“
He brings my hands, and his, to my mouth…four hands silencing me in my tracks.
“The only butt is the one I’m going to be spanking if you try and blame yourself for this ever again.”
I can’t help but smile.
“But seriously, if you want to talk to a professional we can make that happen.”
“Thank you. Let’s see how things go with mom first.”
“You got it,” he says, reaffirming that he is indeed one hundred percent behind my decision. He pauses. “You know what else I’ve got…because I’m so damn ready to see where things go with us? And by see I mean to see all the pictures of the memories we’re going to make together and you every morning for the rest of my life and see the smiles on your face and the kid’s faces and—“
I move our hands to his mouth now, playfully covering his lips. “You’re rambling. Out with it.”
Without taking his eyes from mine he slides out of his seat, around the side of the table and next to mine. Removing one hand from our stack of four hands and moving it to his pocket he opens a small, velvet, deep red box, slowly opening the lid.
“I’ve been working on this a week every second you’ve been away from me so that one day soon you’ll never leave my side ever again.”
My jaw drops at the size of the diamond attached to the beautiful ring. A million thoughts rush through my mind, even one about making a joke about everybody in the world wanting to take a shot at robbing me now, but then I remember exactly who’s by my side. My protector. My everything. My Daddy.
“Baby girl,” he says holding the ring up to the light and it’s only then I can see some sort of hologram type projection thing, and aptly it says, “Jake’s Jewel. Forever.”
I smile and when he catches my eyes he simply says, “Damn straight,” and slides the ring straight on my finger.