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Wait a second. Sir keeps calling me his little doll. His toy.
In the elevator earlier today, my sexy silver fox neighbor called me a little doll when he laughed at me for being frozen when the doors tried to shut on me. My mind spirals back through every interaction I’ve had with anyone over the past several days.
First, I humiliate myself by accusing a hot stranger of watching porn. Porn I implied I was the star of. The next day, the internet mysteriously stops working on my floor, but not at the tech heavy business on the ground level. Then the site I stream on gets bought out, and as part of my contract, I’m boxed into camming for a single viewer. A viewer who calls me his little doll. A neighbor who does the same.
Okay, so I never claimed to be Mensa-level brilliant, but even I can read the writing on this wall. My new cam client, Sir, Not-So-Sweet Sugar Daddy, that guy is Mr. Hot Elevator Man.
Well, slap me twice and call me ‘hiccup.’ I’m not sure how well I keep the shock off my face, but I must manage it well enough he doesn’t notice. I allow myself to go through the motions of disrobing with every sensual trick I’ve ever learned while my mind spins over the details I’ve just realized.
It’s a relief to know I won’t have to close my eyes and imagine my hot neighbor while a sweaty old dude grunts on top of me when Sir and I meet face-to-face. Which, as soon as I figure out a plan, will happen way sooner than he realizes.
I’m happy to let him be in charge, but now that I know exactly who’s pulling the strings in my brand new lifestyle, he’s gonna have to be in charge with me in his lap. Because this girl’s been waiting a long time for a miracle to come save her from the heavy lifting of being an adult, and I’m a thousand percent positive my Sir is that miracle.
ChapterNine
Eco
Something shifted when Greer began to undress. I can’t put my finger on what the change is. I can’t put my fingers on her at all, and that’s a problem in itself. It had been a careless slip when I told her she could call me Daddy when we met face-to-face.
It’s never been part of the plan to reveal my identity to my doll. I thought I’d resigned myself to that reality, but there I went, pushing for more right from the jump. I need to get a handle on my expectations, and my control, before I fuck up this whole operation and lose Greer completely.
“Like this, Sir?” Her sultry voice commands my dick like an O-5 leading a platoon of SEALs.
I can’t be upset about it, though. For years, my junk’s only bothered getting fired up when I’ve taken things in hand to clear the pipes. Until the day I laid eyes on Greer.
Like a switch flipping or a part slipping into place to render an engine functional, that moment seared through the toughened shell around me that had been convinced I couldn’t love. I’d longed for the feelings my brothers discovered, never trusting the chance would come for me to experience it for myself.
Just like that, baby doll. You’re doing so well. - Me
Her fingers reach behind her to unfasten the lacy little pink balconette bra that barely shields her nipples from my gaze, her sweatshirt already in a heap on the floor. She lets the straps of the bra droop from her shoulders to the crook of each arm, almost, but not quite, revealing her nipples.
“I should throw away this bra, too, right, Sir?” The tiniest hint of petulance teases in her question.
You know the answer to that. If you’ve worn it for other men, it goes in the box. - Me
Hearing these little hints of brattiness sneak out proves more than ever that she’s perfect for me. Visions of taking her over my knee to redden the high globes of her backside taunt me. I want to finger her to the edge of orgasm, then pull back and steal it away. Imagine her writhing on my lap for pleasure only I can decide she’s been punished enough to deserve.
My fist closes mindlessly around my thick meat. If I’m not careful, the little doll will have me creaming in my pants like an uncontrolled weakling. Only I control when I spend, and I damn sure will not be doing it so quickly.
“But I like this bra, Sir. It matches my panties so good.” Hearing her call me Sir is almost enough to wrestle away the rest of my control. I let go of my shaft to give my balls a vicious flick. The pain centers me and helps pull me back from the edge.
Then I’ll buy you a dozen more. But that bra and those panties go in the boxes. Don’t make me tell you again, Greer. - Me
Nimble fingers strip off her leggings in movements far too sexy for such a mundane task. Then she’s standing before me, or before my camera lens, with only a scrap of pink lace hiding her slit from my eyes.
Panties off and in the box, doll. -Me
Much as I’m enjoying the view, I can’t ignore the mocking reminder from my subconscious that I’m sharing a memory with assholes who don’t deserve to know what my precious girl looks like.
I wrestle back my jealousy, knowing it won’t serve my plans for the future. I will be all she thinks about from now on. When she needs an orgasm, she’ll turn to me and ask me to direct her through it. Her fingers will become extensions of my own as I command her body to give her pleasure over to me.
“What should I put on first, Sir?” Somehow, in my moments of self reflection, she’s lost her panties and now stands in the center of her room, completely bare to me.
I want to tell her to lie down on the bed and spread her legs to show me all the treasure that’s now mine alone. I want to gorge my eyes on the vision of her cunt open wide for my inspection. I want to run my nose along her seam and bring her scent into my lungs to carry me through the rest of my life. I do none of those things.
Something festive, I think. Pretend you’re dressing up to seduce Santa into putting your name on the good girl list. - Me
“Oh, I know just what to put on! Will you let me surprise you, Santa Sir? Pretty please?” She begs so prettily I’m helpless to deny her.
