by Jane Henry
A tiny woman with black hair rushes over, a kit in her hand. She looks past me, staring at my chin. “Confirmed. We’ve got a blemish trying to make its way to the surface. I. Am. On it.”
I take a sip from my wine, watching the circus unfold before me. They chat amongst themselves and soon it's as if I’m not even in the room. I’m like a canvas they’re going to paint, and I quite like it. After the whirlwind trip to my mom’s and Gabriel keeping me up past two a.m., I find the moment to be relaxing.
My hair is blown out then curled into shiny waves. My brows plucked, then drawn in fuller. My skin moisturized, concealed, and powdered. My fingernails and toenails are being manicured, and this decadent smelling lotion slathered on... everywhere. My only complaint is that with no free hands and Barbie lining my lips, I can’t drink more wine.
“Can I have a straw for my wine?”
She chuckles, and soon, my wine glass is in my hand and I’m drinking it like it’s chocolate milk in a grade school cafeteria. I sigh.
Barbie draws back her hand, looking me over, lip gloss wand hovering in the air. She stands back, crossing her hands over her chest. She squints her eyes, leans in, and bites her lips. She stands back again, hands moving to her hips. She gives a nod. “She’s finished.”
The team breaks into a little cheer-slash-golf clap. Strange, but endearing. They gather in, oohing and ahhing over me.
A deep voice booms through the room. “Step aside. I have… the dress.”
They move to the sides, parting like the Red Sea. Dimitri emerges from behind them. His eyes sparkle, his mouth turned up in a promising grin. Over his arm he holds a red silk dress. “Observe, my darling Miranda. The dress.”
I stand from the couch, my legs tingling from lack of use. Reaching out I stroke the silk, finding my freshly lacquered fire engine red nails are a perfect match. “It’s beautiful.”
Barbie’s disappeared but now she’s back, holding a nude bra and panty set. “Here. These first.”
The heat of a wildfire rises in my face. “Um… just the bra, thanks.” She gives a professional nod.
The robe goes off. I should feel humiliated, or at the very least, shy, standing naked before these strangers, but somehow they put me at ease, and I feel nothing but excitement for the evening to come. The bra goes on. Dimitri holds the dress out. “Arms up.”
I raise my arms. He arranges the dress just so, and it glides down my body, covering me like water. The silk is cool against my skin, and it just feels… expensive. Like it was made for a princess, or a celebrity.
But it’s mine.
And I know daddy was the one who bought it for me, making it feel even softer and luxurious against my skin.
Dimitri gives me a kiss on my cheek. “Have fun tonight, gorgeous.”
And as quickly as they arrived, they pack up and disappear. The door closes behind them. I’m standing alone in the center of the room, a completely different Miranda.
How will I ever go back to real life after this?
I head towards my room to face my full length mirror. Bing-bong. My phone. I freeze in my tracks. It’s the text.
Butterflies take flight in my stomach and I run to the kitchen counter. Beside my phone is a shoebox, red glittering heels ready for tonight. I pick up the phone and read the text.
Unlock your door. Lay over the arm of the sofa. Dress up around your waist. Be careful and don’t wrinkle it. I’m afraid if you ruin your pretty dress I’ll have to spank you. Spread your legs and wait for me.
“Holy shit.” I hold the phone in shaking hands. Read the words one more time. What does daddy have in store for me? “Am I ready for this?”
To give myself to him like this... after only knowing him a few days? I think of the things he’s done to my body, the pleasure he’s given me, the orgasms that shocked me down to my core.
Hell yeah. I’m ready for this.
I put the phone on the counter. Tiptoe across the floor to my sofa. The arm is high and rounded. I lay myself over it, my ass perched in the air. A perfect fit. I reach back and with great caution, I lift the dress, folding it over my upper back. I’m afraid if you ruin your pretty dress I’ll have to spank you. He’s not even here and the first signs of arousal pool between my thighs.
The cool air rushes up and over my bare thighs. I spread my legs, like a good girl, following his directions perfectly. The air rushes over my hot sex, making my pussy pulse. I spread my arms over the sofa.
And wait.
Anyone could walk in here right now and see me like this.
The door opens. It’s him. His gaze falls on me and he inhales a sharp intake of breath. “God damn, babygirl. I won the lottery with you.”
“I think it’s the other way around.”
He crosses the room, a hungry look in his eyes, a prowl in his step. He smooths his hand over my ass. Goosebumps rise on my flesh. “Good girl. It looks like you didn’t muss your dress. And you were waiting for me, just like daddy told you to. I still want to spank that gorgeous ass, though.”
His hand comes down in a stinging smack.
A moan rises in the back of my throat. “But I did all the things you said.”
“Yes, you did. But daddy gets what daddy wants. And right now, he wants to give this pretty little ass a spanking.” His hand comes down. Light, but stinging. Just enough power to make me wince, but not enough to hurt. He covers my ass, peppering me with more of the same. Teasing me. Making my pussy wetter with each smack.
“Oh, you’re making me so turned on. Please. Touch me. Make me come, daddy.”
My pleading results in a hard smack on the center of my ass. He leaves his hand resting on my warm flesh. “Tsk tsk, babygirl. Bossing your daddy around. Bad girl. No worries though. I have the perfect solution.”
His hand slides over my curves. He cups my ass with his palm. Fingers inching between my thighs.
With the feel of his fingers headed to my pussy, I relax. A satisfied smile spreads across my face. I’m going to get what I want after all. He dips his finger into my aching pussy. It feels so good I can’t hold back the moan that escapes me. “More.”
He dips it in, one more time, further, and swirls inside me, stretching me, feeling me. He glides out and I wait for him to thrust it back in, or to circle my clit. But, he goes in a different direction.
His fingers are creeping upward. Headed somewhere they shouldn’t be. I turn, panicked, searching for his face. “What are you doing?”
“Lie down and let daddy touch you.”
I can’t decide if I want to run, to hide, or let him touch me, but I obey, lying back over the couch. I squeeze my eyes shut tight as he slides the pad of his slick finger up to my rosebud. Still cupping my ass with his palm, he rubs his finger over the entrance to my ass.
Somewhere I’ve never been touched.
It’s a strange sensation. One of deep shame and yet, there's a stirring of desire deep in my belly. He pushes that fingertip against my tight hole and… oh my God… slides inside up to his first knuckle.
“My babygirl’s body belongs to me. Every inch.” He pulls back, pushing in again. The feeling in my gut intensifies, a longing, an aching like I’ve never felt before.
What is this man doing to me? He slips his finger out. Relief and disappointment swirl in a cloud of emotion. Why did I like that so much?
His hands are no longer on me. I can’t see what he’s doing but I hear a click, like the uncapping of a plastic cap on a bottle. “What are you doing now?”
“Lubing my finger. I want your ass nice and slick when I put your plug in it.”
I freeze. My heart pounds against my ribcage, sending a loud, whirring noise of blood past my eardrum. “My what?” So much for the rules of the escort service, always polite, always professional. I flip my head around, my eyes widening at the sight of the curved, handled torture device in his hand. “You are not putting that thing in me.”
He slaps my ass, hard. A punishing, stinging slap that ha
s me rethinking my sassy attitude. “I’m going to plug your pretty ass. Understand?”
I have to mentally coach myself.
I’ve agreed to be his escort. I’ve signed the contract. If there were real hard limits, he would listen... wouldn’t he?”
“Yes, daddy.” I feel his fingers on me, now cold and super slick with the lube. He fingers my bottom, going deeper, swirling around until my ass is lubricated.
“Now take a deep breath and relax, babygirl.” I do as he says. I feel cool lube, then the pressure of the cold metal tip of the plug against my tight entrance. “Now, let’s have ourselves a little chat.”
My voice comes out high and tight. “Yes, daddy.”
“There will be a lot of men there tonight. Handsome men who will want your attention. As you talk to them, offering them your pretty smiles, I want you to feel the weight, the fullness of this plug to remind you that you are mine, and mine alone.”
He pushes harder. The tip of the plug enters me. My skin stretches and burns, trying to accommodate this strange object. He keeps pushing and it slips past my tight ring of muscles, filling me. Strange noises rise from my throat as he gives it a final thrust. “Unh… ah…”
It feels full and heavy. And strange. An invasive yet sexual feeling wells from my core up to my chest. A feeling of… submission.
He gives the handle a little tug. “Perfect fit.” He bends and kisses the small of my back. “Gorgeous.” That’s it. He can do anything he fucking wants.
He unfolds my dress. Smooths it down over my skin. Offers me his hand and pulls me up till I’m standing before him. As I move, the plug moves with me. A constant reminder: I am his and his alone.
He leans down and kisses me. I kiss him back. My kiss is hungrier. Needier. Something in me has changed. I realize it’s the feeling that I’m not just kissing him, I’m kissing my man.
I want to go to this event tonight, on his arm, and be his. I want to be shown off and introduced as his woman.
Making me worry that I’m breaking every single one of my rules.
Never. Fall. In. Love.
Chapter Thirteen
Gabriel
She’s stunning. Magnificent. Absolutely gorgeous, more beautiful than any woman I’ve ever seen walk a runway from here to Paris and beyond.
“I’m proud to take you with me tonight,” I tell her as we get out of the car and head to the entrance of the hotel. This time, a veritable smorgasbord of photographers, reporters, and security line our path, but we’re ready this time. She holds her head high with dignity and gives me a wide smile.
“You don’t look half bad yourself, sir.” She gives me a wink. The “sir” would seem innocuous in this context if anyone overheard her, but she’s giving me what I want to hear.
I shrug. “Thanks. Took them two hours to do my hair, which is ridiculous considering it’s about two inches long, but I’ve learned to deal.”
She giggles and whispers, “Are you wearing makeup, too?”
I roll my eyes. “That’s where I drew the line, sweetheart. And if you think you’re going to be cheeky…” I give her a pointed look to her ass, and she flushes as if on command.
Exquisite.
I hold my elbow out for her to take, and she does so, as regal as a queen in her court.
“Ignore the reporters, babe,” I tell her. “Just smile big and follow my lead.”
“It’s like that’s the tagline for our entire relationship,” she quips, making me grin, and the cameras go wild, nearly blinding us. But I’ve done this before, and have learned not to look at the camera but straight ahead.
“Look ahead,” I instruct. “And not at the camera. It helps.”
Even in her heels, she’s several inches shorter than I am, so I have to walk slower than I normally would. It’s with relief we finally make it to the door and have a momentary reprieve as Shane and Mack wait for us.
“Exit left,” Shane says with a wink. “And Miss Montague, thank you for your prompt reply to my email.”
She gives him a coy smile and nods. I was enamored with her before. Watching her handle the pressure with such grace and poise makes me want her even more.
As we enter the reception area, I lean in and pat her bottom discreetly. She gives a little gasp and wobbles on her heels, but I quickly right her. I lean in and whisper in her ear. “That’s my good little babygirl. Daddy will reward you so well tonight, baby.”
She nods and mouths, “Yes, daddy.”
So cute.
Reporters and photographers are stationed in one room only once we hit the reception area, and I breathe a sigh of relief. It’s less stuffy in here, with uniformed security guards at every entrance and exit.
“Now we’ll have something to eat,” I tell her. “Make small talk.”
“Can I eat standing up?” she asks, her brow knit in concentration.
“No, babe. You’ll sit beside me.”
Her eyes go wide and she hisses. “With this… thing in me? I’ve already worn it on the car ride, but sitting in front of people knowing it’s in there?”
“Of course, Miranda. Don’t be afraid. You’ll handle it well.” I lean in and kiss her cheek. “And admit it, baby. It’s turning you on.”
The way she bites that lip again confirms my suspicion. “My baby loves when I make her submit to me.”
She nods, her eyes cast to the table. I take out my phone and send her a text so no one hears.
You please daddy very much.
She retrieves her phone from her little handbag, taps the screen, and shoots me a text back.
It’s hard to form a coherent thought beyond ‘obey daddy’ with this thing in my ass.
I smile.
Good.
As I go to slide my phone in my pocket, it buzzes. I look at the screen, surprised to see it’s her sister. We exchanged numbers before we left on my insistence. I wanted Lexi to come directly to me if there were any issues with the facility. I want to take as much off Miranda’s shoulders as possible.
I answer the phone as I pull out a chair for Miranda, stifling a chuckle as she winces when she sits, then heat flares in her eyes.
“Hello?”
“Mr. Lord?”
“Speaking.”
“It’s Lexi. I… I just wanted to thank you for what you did. I received a phone call earlier from a man named Shane. And he was so kind. He’s made sure everything is in place if Mom stays here longer. I was asking him, and I thought I should ask you. Just in case... um... is there any chance there’s a place like this... there? In Nevada?”
It’s fine with me, but I wonder why Lexi would want to move her mom. Especially since she visits her daily. “Whatever you girls want. I’ll work it out.”
She breaths a relieved sigh. But I can tell there’s something more on her mind.
“Anything else?”
“And I think we need to—hold on. I’m getting another call.” There’s a sniffle. Her voice drops, and she suddenly goes very quiet and whispers, “I have to go. I’ll call you back.” The line goes dead. I stare at it curiously, and Miranda looks up to me.
“What is it? Everything okay?”
I sit beside her as the waiters hand us flutes of champagne. “That was Lexi.”
Instant panic rises in her eyes. “Oh? What happened?”
“Well, she called to thank me again. And she had an interesting question—she wants to know if it’s possible to move your mom, here.”
“Huh. I mean, I’m not opposed to the idea, I’d love to see her more, but it seems like an upheaval for mom.”
I nod. “We’ll do what’s best. There’s one more thing. She hung up the phone kind of suddenly. Check on her to see if everything’s okay.”
She whips her phone out and dials Lexi but gets her voicemail. She sends her a text. I watch over her shoulder.
Everything ok??
Lexi: Yes. I’ll talk to you later. Have an amazing evening!!
She shrugs and tucks her phone
back in her bag. “Lexi can be a little dramatic. Comes from being a performer, I guess.”
“Performer?”
Miranda nods as she takes a sip of champagne. “Yes, she’s an actress, dancer, the whole nine yards. Dreams of pursuing Broadway, but for now mostly focuses on community theater.”
Ah.
“And you’ll see as you get to know her, she has a bit of a… penchant for the dramatic, you might say.” I smile at that.
“Unlike her pragmatic older sister?”
Miranda gives me a satisfied smirk. “Quite.”
I lean in and whisper, “How’s that plug between those beautiful cheeks?”
That makes her lose her dignified look almost instantly. Her pupils dilate and she wriggles in her seat. “Hot,” she squeaks out.
“Good,” I whisper. “Tonight, when daddy takes it out, he’ll reward you so fucking well for your obedience, baby.”
She swallows hard. “I look forward to that.”
Shane arrives with a date on his arm, followed by Darius and his wife Katie. They join us, smiling at us in greeting. Miranda grins as we both stand to greet them. Katie is a former employee of Miranda’s, and the girls have stayed friends.
The evening is nearly flawless, and Miranda makes me so proud as she continues to smile, make small talk, not at all embarrassed by the limelight, even when we’re asked to “pose” for “candid shots.”
“Isn’t that an oxymoron?” she says with a giggle as she sips another glass of champagne.
“How much have you had to drink, babe?”
She looks at me with wide eyes and shakes her head. “I have no,” hiccup, “idea.”
I take the flute from her hand and hand it to a waiter. “Let’s take a little break, then. I want you awake when I get you home tonight.” She looks longingly at the glass.
“But I need some liquid courage.”
I kiss her cheek. “I’ll give you some liquid courage.”
I whisk her quickly away from the crowd, to a secluded sitting area. Only one other couple sits in the far corner of the room, their backs turned from us.
“Where are we?” she asks in wonder.
