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Chapter 17
Shelby
I rolled over and stretched out my arm, but the familiar warmth I’d grown accustomed to was missing. I opened one eye and peeked around the room. Noah was definitely not here. I sat up and saw the note on my nightstand.
Sorry, no coffee in bed. I’m locked in the office for most of the day with some client issues that need dealing with. Be good! Daddy.
I rolled onto my back and blew a random strand of hair out of the way. What to do?
Masturbate. I ran my hand down between my legs and felt the rawness there, from the attention it received last night. There was something about being in bed with the after-effects of last night that made me feel like a dirty girl. I didn’t want to be a dirty girl, without adding naughty to the list, and Noah would definitely think me pleasuring myself would be both naughty and dirty.
That spurred my actions, and I rubbed my clitty. Soft moans filled the room, and I half expected Noah to jump out of somewhere and say, “Caught you!” But he didn’t and I took my time roaming my body and noticing for the first time all the changes that had taken place with me over the past few weeks.
My hips which had been non-existent had filled out a little, giving my waist a nice dip. As I ran one hand over my hips and waist, my curves felt more feminine. My hand reached my ass, gently squeezing my battered cheeks and enjoying the stretch of my back opening. The soreness made me horny, and slick with desire.
I squeezed the sorest part of my ass firmly, moaning with the pleasure/pain. I hissed a breath as I slid a finger inside my sensitive rosette. It was at this moment that I wished I had my vibrator, but it was at home under my pillow.
Home? I hadn’t really thought about where I lived in a while. It would never be home, being alone would never be like it had been, and I wasn’t who I’d been. I released my ass, pulling my finger free of my back hole.
I stared at the ceiling watching how the clouds outside the window created moving shadows. I shuddered as one passed overhead that reminded me of something dark and sinister. Then I reminded myself I needn’t be afraid as Noah had put things in motion to ensure my safety.
Yah, where will Noah be in a few weeks when he decides your little abode is safe to return to?
“Fuck off!” I said out loud to the empty room. Rolling onto my side, I yanked the blankets over my head. I didn’t want to think about tomorrow. I didn’t want to think about next week.
Then don’t. But you can’t keep your head buried under the blankets forever.
Frustrated, I let out a growl of exasperation and climbed out of the bed.
I stalked to the bathroom and turned on the shower. I took my time lathering and shaving all my bits so I was silky smooth. My thoughts had left me feeling restless and anxious. Playing with my hair, I gave up and threw it up in a ponytail. Sighing, I made my way to the walk-in closet and looked at the boxes and bags and new clothes hanging and felt overwhelmed. I grabbed my jeans from last night which Noah had folded and left on the divan. I threw on another pair of Bay City Rollers socks and a cropped sweatshirt that ended just below my boobs. They weren’t big, but they seemed slightly larger than before meeting Noah. Or perhaps that was because of the push-up bra I was wearing? I added my pink converse sneakers that matched the sweatshirt and headed to the kitchen.
I scanned the room to make sure Noah wasn’t hiding anywhere and then made myself a double espresso. I don’t know why I felt the sudden need to break the rules he’d set in place, but I did. Maybe this was a feeble attempt to push the boundaries, but did I need to do that? Why?
Whatever!
I switched the speaker system on making sure to not pump Madonna into his office and headed outside to drink my coffee. It was a beautiful day, and the sun was inviting, offering me a temporary reprieve from my scattered emotions and thoughts.
I felt lost, like a boat on a lake with no rudder, sail, or oars, being pushed around by the elements. Could this be the sub drop that Noah had spoken of? I hadn’t been paying attention, but it supposedly happened after intense play when one’s endorphins wore off and the sub finds themselves low.
That made me feel better. Knowledge is power but didn’t change my mood at all. Noah had told me that if I ever felt a sub drop to let him know right away. My phone beeped with an alert. The figurines I’d ordered forever ago had been delivered to my apartment.
I turned the music off and made my way to Noah’s office. Knocking on the door lightly and getting no answer, I banged a little louder. Noah opened the door, his demeanor one of exasperation.
“Shelby, I don’t have time right now, sweetheart. I have work I have to get done.”
“But, Daddy, my figurines came in and I want them for my room.”
Noah’s expression altered, his eyes warming.
“I understand, but Daddy has to work. We can go tonight as soon as I’m done.”
He closed the door, and it wasn’t until I was stomping down to my room that I remembered the sub drop. Whatever, I’d tell him later. I tossed myself down into the bean bag chair and stared at the posters I had on the walls. The room was far from done but I already loved it. Here is where I felt like the truest version of myself, even more than my apartment which was a collection of furniture I mostly found in the alley outside my place or at the closest thrift shop. I never thought it mattered much if the stuff expressed my taste, but that’s because I had nothing to compare it to. Turns out I have expensive taste, who knew?
I gazed at my phone, six hours until Daddy was done. Ugh! Screw it, I’d Uber it over to my place, have the driver wait for me, grab my packages and leave. They’re mine and I paid for them with my own money, and I wasn’t leaving them at my door where anyone could claim them.
I left the condo and told myself I would face the consequences later when Daddy was done and asked how I had managed to get the figurines from my place to his. I wasn’t looking forward to that, but I also didn’t want to hide away, afraid anymore either.
The Uber and the drive were seamless, and I was beginning to think that the fear from a few weeks ago was unfounded. That guy probably never knew where I lived, and I’d freaked myself out.
It was cathartic as the Uber pulled up out front. It was late morning, and the streets weren’t too busy. Hopping out, I unlocked the front door and ran up the stairs. It was very quiet in the building, and I decided I better step on it, no longer feeling like this was a good idea.
It wasn’t until I passed the second floor that I realized I’d forgotten to ask the driver to wait. Sighing, I shook my head. I’d have to call another one. I reached my landing on the top floor and sure enough, my packages were there. Then I felt it, a pull to see my place and I unlocked the door. It appeared to be just as I’d left it, but it seemed darker and lifeless as I had suspected it might. I turned back and bent over to pick up my packages from the floor.
“I’ve been waiting for you, bad girl.”
A set of arms thwarted my attempts to spin around, the packages falling from my hold as I was enveloped from behind. I fought against him, now knowing that my stalker from online and from the lifestyle were one in the same: Peter. Something sharp was pressed into my neck. I felt a prick pierce my skin, and then nothing.
