Daddy's Little Bait

by Celia Crown

  I have crushed a couple of sleeping pills in her water, forcing her to drink it all so as to make sure that it takes the maximum effect until I come back. When she sleeps, the team and I do our dry run before coming back to adjust some details to make it a flawless heist later.

  Having protection at different times ensures that we have the whole day planned within the palms of my hand. However, I’m against leaving her here by herself where someone can take her away or hurt her. I’m not concerned about the risk of her running away because I have her drugged and chained until I come back to get her on the couch.

  She thinks that I never left and I like to have her continue thinking that until the heist has been complete without a hitch, then we can be together and away from this shitty place.

  I’m not going to abandon her when I finish the heist, but I need to make sure there is no possible chance that her involvement would hinder the months of planning.

  Her body goes limp under me; her eyes are struggling to stay open as her consciousness begins to fade. It’s almost time for her to get knocked out from the water, I release her arms and they fall uselessly around her as I switch positions.

  I hook my arm around her waist and turn her to face me while I slump down on the couch, hot skin scratching against the coarse material of it. Her hands brace on my chest as her head bobs, she mewls tiredly and slumps down heavily.

  “Okay, okay,” I grunt, pistons and long thrusts up her pussy causes her to cry breathlessly.

  Gravity allows her dripping folds to drench my tight balls, velvety muscles surrounding my cock in heavenly pulses.

  “Little princess, give Daddy a kiss,” I said, deep and low in her ear as she lethargically lifts her head. I meet her halfway and tip my head down, brushing our lips together while I grip her ass to hammer in her coiling walls. Sodden slit and neglected clit rubbing on my pelvic bone, she’s not breathing.

  I smack her ass and her lips open for a gasp, I smooth the burning sting with my hot palm and she squirms at the sensation. Her nails scratch my skin, leaving red trails as she curls her fingers into her tiny fists.

  I nip her bottom lip, flexing my hips to ferociously chase the pleasure that I have been deprived of. When her cunt begins to spasm around me, she tries to swallow her screams by kissing me harder as my previous command where she couldn’t follow through got her into this situation where I’m not kind with her body.

  I topple forward, catching her small frame in my arms and curling over her as my chest heaves.

  “Fuck.’ I let out a strangled moan.

  My teeth sink into her shoulder, another wave of heat flashes hotly across my skin. My cock expands, tugging on her snug pussy to feed more of my shaft inside. She reaches out and loop her arms around my shoulders, desperately clinging when her folds quiver.

  At this point, I know right within my heart when she is coming and it’s a very noticeable sensation when she’s getting impossibly tight. I’m addicted to the way she loses herself in this rough sex session, calling it love-making would be an insult to me. I didn’t get her to be drunk and debauched to compare it to weak sexual affairs, this is pure fucking.

  She can ask for a gentler session later, but I need to work my frustration out first.

  Romy’s got her orgasms, it’s time for mine.

  Incoherent noises ring out, squealing in my ears as she writhes through her orgasm. Romy squirms restlessly, crying in wanton moans and sobs of aching pleasure as her body is too overwhelmed with my stamina.

  My shaft swells, locking inside with my girthy length breaking the hot knot of tension as it unravels. I rock her down on my cock, grinding her sodden clit down to seek another round of quivering muscles feebly milking my cock.

  Romy just doesn’t learn when she gives out a guttural whine, wrenching her voice in a sound of hopelessness.

  Thick strands of white spurting in her coiling walls, virile fluid escaping from her tightly plugged slit as her red cheeks turn a brighter color as her tears flow down freely from her glassy eyes. A flash of humiliation animate in her eyes, but they close and she drops her weight in my welcoming embrace.

  Sleep overcomes her with the exhaustion and the drugs.

  Her body had gotten used to the dosage I gave her, and it’s daring for me to assume that she will stay asleep for the whole day and night while the heist goes down.

  It’s a good thing that I caught her wide awake, her escape would not be for survival but it would be out of curiosity if she doesn’t find me near her. I fear that she will walk about this abandoned building and get lost somewhere; anyone could pick her up and take her away from me.

  I need to make sure that happens and she’s deep in dreamworld that she doesn’t feel me lifting her off my sensitive cock. I stand up and fix my appearance and crack my neck as a new type of clarity hits me, it’s refreshing and I’m more attentive to my surroundings.

  I throw on the shirt that was lying on the meeting table and roll my neck to get rid of the tension around me. Glancing over my shoulder to watch Romy’s chest rising and falling peacefully, creamy white cum gushing out of her little hole and running down her thigh as she sleeps on her side facing me.

  I walk over to the duffle bag containing the clothes that I got for her; I didn’t steal anything as these are hers. I simply felt generous and gave her changes of clothes as she is here, and she still doesn’t know why she is here or when she is going home.

  Home is no longer the two-room apartment with her roommate; it’s going to be with me after I get the money.

  Taking out a shirt with thicker material, undergarments, and long pants, I walk back over to her and allow the illuminating camping lights to flicker and help my hands do its work. Yanking her legs open and staring down on the mess we made, pride floods within my heart as I watch her puffy pussy clench and unclench in preparation for more.

  Sliding her panties up her smooth legs, I press a kiss to her hip and move her pants over the frilly underwear. Turning her towards me, I manage to put her arms through her bra straps and clip them behind her back.

  Her shirt is the easiest part, and when she is fully dressed to cover every part of her skin except for her bandaged feet and little hands, I trace the finger bruises around her neck.

  It’s brown and painful looking, and it’s going to take a while for them to heal. I didn’t want to mark her beautiful skin, but the possessively sadistic side of me demands a territorial stance in her life.

  I throw on a jacket, flipping the hood up so that shadows engulf my face. I loom over her sleeping form and scoop her up into my arms; she nuzzles her face into my neck and sighs slowly.

  I hate to do this part, but it’s only going to be a little while and it’s the only reason she is in this situation.

  I needed her, and I didn’t anticipate for Romy to become so consuming in my life.

  “Forgive me, little princess.” I press a kiss to the top of her head.

  Stepping out of the darkroom, I find my way to the hospital entrance and the early morning light is an off shade of misty blue as fog surrounds the area. I hold her tighter against my chest, walking past the car that I use when she whimpers.

  I shush her cries, sliding in the shadows provided by trees and abandoned buildings in the nearby area.

  After today, that hospital building has no use anymore so I’m not worried about anyone finding it as all the stuff has been cleared. All of the team members are in their respective spot, ready for the clock to strike with the biggest news that will take the nation in a frenzy of confusion.

  Using Romy as a distraction for the police to look away and unable to respond to a bank heist leaves a bitter taste in my mouth, but what’s done is done.

  I can make it up to her later; she’ll understand why I had to do it.

  It was all about the thrill of not being caught and the money, but now that Romy wormed her way into my heart and plagued my mind, I have trouble letting go of the bitterness in me to know that she will th
ink of herself as bait and disposable.

  The sleepy city comes to view as I step out of the trees, wandering towards the nearest fire station. I scouted the area before me and there is a security camera at every entrance so I tip my head down to avoid being seen.

  I lay her down on the thin wall that separates two red garage doors, tucking her feet close to her so she doesn’t get caught with the door.

  Leaning down, I press a kiss to her forehead. “Wait for me, I’ll come back for you.”

  Chapter Eight

  Romy

  There is beeping, there are murmurs, and there is rustling that I can hear over the stuffed eardrums of mine.

  A smell of pungent disinfectant and heaviness settles in my muscles as I peel my eyes open.

  White ceilings with small dots cluttering on each square as the beeping noise beside me get louder just as the fogginess in my mind clears. My mouth probably smells just as gross as it feels, and it seems that no matter how hard I move my tongue, no saliva wants to build up to get rid of the dryness.

  The surface beneath me is soft, but not too much where it folds my body in half. There is a prickling sensation on my arm and I turn to look at what is bothering me and my precious sleep. What feels like years of sleep deprivation gets the rest that enables me to let my brain recover. Recuperation of exhaustion is harsh when the needle in my arm is taped down while it extends upwards to a bag of clear liquid.

  That bag looks awfully full and it looks like water.

  I need water; I’m drier than the Sahara Desert.

  Shakily, I groan and slouch back onto the pillow. My mouth twists and groans in annoyance at the constant beeps, I roll my head to the other side and watch the machine show a little symbol of a heart and a line of messy waves.

  My heart rate, I vaguely note.

  Slowly, but inevitably, my throat closes and I shoot up from the bed. Dizziness overcomes me as my vision swirls with the room, then I lean forward and drop my throbbing head on the empty space between my legs.

  “Hey, hey!” a feminine voice gasps beside me as hands push me back onto the bed.

  My startled reaction causes my heart to frantically beat against my ribs. I come to terms with my surroundings and this is not what I remember falling asleep to.

  I remember Daddy, our scandalous night, and his strong heart luring me to sleep.

  None of this is any of that.

  “What— who are you?” I gasp, inching back with my lungs slamming its way to a hyperventilating state.

  “I’m Melanie, a nurse and you’re in the hospital.” she smiles, her eyes are kind and patient as I dart my eyes around the room.

  It does have that typical hospital room that I always see in television dramas; the dead white walls, piquant smell, and the blandness of everything so as to not give too much stimulation to patients.

  “But, I was just at the hospital,” I said, comparing the abandoned building of wreckage to this clean and orderly room.

  It’s so different that my brain is having trouble comprehending what’s happening, and I’m hyperventilating again. The nurse holds my shoulders down and peers down at me with a concerned expression on her face as I feel trapped. I don’t want to be held down because the last time I did, Daddy had hurt me.

  It hurts, but my body liked it. I don’t know what to think about that because it’s so contradicting to what I have always known about myself. I never liked pain and having mandatory shots before going to school as it scares me and I would try to avoid them as much as possible, so the flu shots that they advertise on pharmacy display boards steers me to the other walking direction.

  Blood drives at school are the last thing I would do and missing class for it doesn’t make up for the pain I would feel.

  So, why do I like it when Daddy hurts me?

  And, where is he?

  I need him here; I don’t want to be left alone in this unfamiliar room with this woman hovering over me. I feel suffocated and confined, I can hardly breathe when she’s screaming over her shoulder for someone.

  Then, I hear Kevin’s voice.

  A voice that I’m too used to and yet I have forgotten about it. It’s now that I realize how much I miss hearing his voice, he’s talking to me with his head coming into view with the nurses as she moves back to give room for him.

  “It’s me, Kevin. Breathe, nice and slow.” he shows me an example and I follow his motion.

  My heart gradually paces itself, I cough and hiccup. Dissonance and turmoil run chaotically and stomps on my emotions as I try to make sense of what I should be feeling. His familiar face stops the destructive process of my unresolved internal conflict, but I take comfort in that.

  I can't handle anything stressful.

  Kevin smiles, “How are you?”

  His voice is considerately soft and quiet, making sure to not raise it a pitch higher.

  “I don’t know,” I whisper, blinking uneasily.

  “Doctors say you would feel this way when you wake up,” he explains, the drag of the chair across the floor is sharp.

  He sits down, leaning on his elbows as he takes my hand into his. He’s warm and reassuring; unlike the lonely and hollow room that is causing me slight claustrophobia.

  “W-what—” I wince at the croaking of my voice.

  He pours a glass of water by the little stand and helps me sit up, my drops back onto the propped pillow. I greedily gulp down the water and hand it back to him for another cup, he obliges and I take the glass back with one swoop.

  Downing the water until my tummy is swooshing with water, I sigh in relief that my throat is soothed from the aching.

  Another figure comes from my peripheral vision, my distress skyrockets as it’s the harbinger of death. In a white fluttery coat, fading line of hair, permanent wrinkles under a pair of eyes with more eye whites than the pupil.

  “I’m Doctor Kunz, I’m in charge of you.” he fishes out a pen-sized tube and clicks a button from behind, a light shine on the blanket on my legs.

  He brings the light to my eyes and quickly alternates between them while I squint at the intrusiveness, an upsurge of blackness follows after he shuts off the light. I blink away the color and my vision comes back to normal, he checks the bag of fluids hanging there.

  “How do you feel?”

  I answer the same way just as when Kevin asked me.

  “Do you remember what happened?” he asks, walking to the edge of the bed and bringing up a clipboard, glancing at me and down at the chart before putting it back.

  I shake my head; Kevin holds my hand to let me know that he’s still there. I appreciate his effort and silent support while I try to wrap my head around what has happened.

  The doctor gets interrupted by two people in suits. A man and a woman flipping their badge open and big lettering of FBI juts out from above their signature and profile picture. I didn’t catch their names on the badges, but they introduce themselves.

  I should remember their name, but that would mean that I was listening in the first place and I wasn’t. All the new faces are getting me sick, revolting bile rises up in my throat and I force them down to ensure that I don’t spit acid at their suits.

  “Can we get a moment alone?” the woman asks Kevin.

  I look over at them to see him nod, letting go of my hand. I put his fingers in a death grip and beg him to stay; I don’t want to be alone as I don’t know what is happening or what has happened when I was unconscious.

  A nonstop memory replay in my head from Daddy’s strong heartbeat to this deafening room, I don’t have any recollection of what happened in between. I wonder how I ended up here and the most important question is, where is Daddy?

  He’s supposed to protect me and I feel so attacked right now, these FBI agents are uprooting my anchor to my mental state by trying to get Kevin away.

  I need someone I can trust with me or I would go crazy.

  The man nods, “Yes, he can stay.”

  The woman start
s her round of questions, “Can you tell me what happened?”

  I bite my tongue, eyes wide with distrust to her. For some strange reasons, I can’t seem to trust her. Police are the good people, they help others and they can’t hurt me.

  “Can you tell me about the person who did this to you?” her tone changes, going from impassive to a worried voice.

  “It’s okay, he can’t hurt you anymore.” she smiles, her eyes don’t match her face as they stay stoic.

  I slink away from her and narrow my eyes. However, she got the information that the person who hurt me was a male, I have a feeling she knows more than she thinks she’s letting on.

  I have had a lot of time studying Daddy’s expressions when we were together, and it’s hard to know what he’s thinking as he either looks like he doesn’t care about anything or a silent fury is fixed onto his face.

  “You were found outside of a fire station, can you remember how you got there?” the man asks a pen and a notepad in his hands.

  I shake my head, refusing to talk as I don’t want them to know about Daddy.

  A strange protectiveness boils in my soul, sealing my lips closed with a seething fire. Daddy belongs to me and the notion that people knowing about him makes me upset as he should only be known by me. His gentleness mixed with a side of dark violence means he loves me, he favors me over the other people that I saw at the abandoned hospital.

  “What about the man that was with you? The fire station had surveillance of a man carrying you there.” the woman inquires, with a face of curiosity and professionalism.

  The machine lets them fear my racing heart and bewilderment hits me again. Questions after questions flow in my head and knocking over each other as I try to make sense of it.

  Why would he leave me there? Where was he going? Is he coming back for me? Did he not want me anymore? Did he abandon me?

  Kevin lunges over me and grasps my face to make me look him in the eyes, “Woah, woah. Calm down, you’re safe, you’re safe.”