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They become so intensely agreeable that it disgusts me. At every turn, they always show me their true end game. Getting their hooks into my wallet, not necessarily me. I don’t feel anything like that coming from Chastity.
“So…again I ask…” Trying harder to keep the hardness from my voice. “What do you do for fun?”
She fusses with her hands, squinting before answering. “Ummm, I bake. Among other things, but that’s my main hobby, I guess?”
Fuck. She bakes.
There’s two reasons that her answer only fuels my already-flaming obsession with her.
One, my mother bakes. And when I say my mother, I mean the one that raised me. The other is the one that birthed me and no more.
It is her passion, her joy. Cakes especially, but anything really. The memory of sneaking a slice of her red velvet, a specialty she perfected and still bakes for me when I get a chance to visit, makes my mouth water at the memory.
Second, it’s just so fucking normal. People in my world don’t bake. They have staff to do that for them, or they eat out every night, or don’t eat at all because their balance sheets and daily reports or keeping themselves model-thin are more important than food.
Chastity isn’t like anyone else in my orbit.
She has me by the balls and the heart and with every word, she squeezes them both.
CHAPTER 5
CHASTITY
Diary entry…Three Weeks Prior…
Dear Diary,
I just woke up in this dingy little apartment, alone with the sound of the neighbors fighting downstairs and the stale, mildew scent that seems to seep from everywhere.
But you know what I can’t stop thinking about? Yes, of course you do. I had another dream, one of those dreams you have just before you wake up so it’s so vivid it’s almost real.
And who was it about?
Rhetorical question, Diary, because I know you know. This time, in the dream he called me from the kitchen where I was petting this crazy rainbow-colored cat. I was wearing this white cotton nightgown that felt more like silk. I heard his voice tell me to come watch a movie. Anything I’d like. Even Disney. He said, ‘It’s Friday, you can stay up late with me”.
I picked a movie, in the dream I’m not even sure what it was, then went to sit on the sofa. It was the only furniture in the room besides this weird, tiny chair with a hole in the seat. He was sitting on the other end of the couch as we watched and I kept glancing his way, the room dark except for the colors from the TV.
“Hey, baby,” he said. “Do you mind if we lay down? I’m pretty tired. I’ll just lay behind you, so you don’t have to sit on the floor. You can keep watching the movie. I still want to be here with you, I’ve just had a long day.”
He shifted, pulling me down in front of him so we were sort of spooning on the sofa, his head behind mine on the pillow so I could feel his warm breath. I was frozen. Where our bodies connected, heat kept multiplying. As always, I could never really see his face, but his body was enormous. As well as his…you know.
Then, his hand moved to my hip. And slowly, fingertips were pushing up the hem of my nightgown.
“You feel so good. So warm.”
I didn’t know what to say, then his fingers were on top of my panties. Tickling, brushing, circling.
“Does that feel good, baby girl?”
I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t speak.
“Daddy wants to touch you. It would make me happy. You want me to be happy, don’t you?”
Gah, Diary, it went on and on. He was touching me, saying the most delicious things. Then his cock was there, pressing into me as he lifted my leg.
“Daddy’s just going to put the tip inside you, princess. Just to see how it feels…be a good girl...”
You know how it ends, Diary. How it always ends. He did put just the tip inside me, all the way to my cervix, that is. I woke up mid-orgasm, the faceless man in my dreams once again making me feel like there’s something wrong with me. I definitely have daddy issues.
Well, the fighting downstairs has stopped and tomorrow is my first day at the internship. I brought some baking stuff with me, so it will be double-chocolate devil’s food cake with cream cheese frosting today. Then maybe a little nap and Daddy will come visit in my dreams again. I really am such a bad girl Diary. I need to find God.
xoxo
“Who were the women you were with at the bar?” I blurt out in the moment of silence left after I told Jack I baked for fun.
Immediately, my face heats. I have no right to ask him about who he chooses for female companionship, but that doesn’t seem to matter to me right now. I feel like a child, no filter or hesitation, just an intense need for an immediate answer to my question.
