MaverickMagrew
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Joined: 9/30/2016
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I am writing this for my little right now as a reward for her good behavior. She is earning chapter by chapter. I'd love comments. Of course chapter one is a little slow.
Daddy’s Cage One
Winter’s icy fingers wiggled their way through her sheer nightgown top, and played their way up her delicate back. Involuntarily, her nipples hardened. Little Dove shuddered, and wrapped her arms about herself, half for warmth, half for the feeling. She missed that feeling. Being wrapped, engulfed, completely restrained by the arms of another; any other. Deep inside, she longed for the sensation of having their soul, their innermost being reaching out through their warmth to embrace her tender spirit. The wordless assurance that, yes, everything was going to be alright. That she wasn’t alone.
It had been an age since she last felt any sort of connection with another let alone that unique flame which burned brightly, just between two of the same exact essence. An age since she had left the cutting words, the cold shoulders. An age since she had left . . him. The one who had given her a parting gift, the wide canyon-like gash which ran with vivid reds, oranges and purples along the side of her face, and down her otherwise perfect, delicate almost translucent jowl. Doctors told her it had healed. It hadn’t. She wasn’t sorry she left him. At least, that is what she constantly told herself. As winter clasped her close to its numbing embrace, she wondered if she’d made the right choice for about the one millionth time.
Things.
Things were easier when he had been around. There were dinners. There were nights out. There were friends and parties. There was light, electricity . . . heat. Those things left when he did. She hated those things, those gifts of his. They were the bars of the cage he had used to hold her for so many years. He could keep them. She could go without. Once again, a specter blew to her from some unseen hole in some unseen corner of her little room, wrapping her in its dark embrace before leaving her shivering.
The bed beneath her was soft, though not as soft as HER bed had been. Motel rooms are not known for their comfort; especially motel rooms rented by the hour. Cheap 1970’s style fake wood paneling ran vertically round the room creating wooden bars which tried to hold out the wind. The curtains of the window were drawn. She didn’t want anyone to see her here. Anywhere but here. There would be only one who would see her there that night, in her translucent nighty. A howling blast slammed the side of the building and she decided another layer couldn’t hurt. After all, she wouldn’t have company for too long. They never stayed long. Usually they had to rush home to their blissfully ignorant wives and kids. Others just wanted to return to their own lives of drinking, drugs, or working long hours, to aloof of others to form any familial bonds.
Everyone has a drug of choice. Everyone is addicted to something. Drugs, alcohol, television, caffeine, gambling . . . love. Each uplifting. Each destructive. Each in their own way. Little Dove had no real love of drugs, or alcohol. She haddn’t seen a TV since she left. She couldn’t afford Starbucks, and of course had no money for gambling. Her addiction was simplest. But perhaps, it came with the worst withdrawal symptoms.
She looked at her phone. 10:07. He, whomever he was, was late. A small spark of hope kindled inside her. Maybe she wouldn’t have to go through with it this time. Maybe, this time would be different. But that spark was made of black fire, dark and cold. If he didn’t show, she would be hungry tonight. There wasn’t enough money left for the room’s daily rent, food for her daughter, and food for herself. She needed him.
Her daughter. Little Dove had always called her daughter by her nickname, “ladybug”, “Bug” for short, rather than her given name. He had named her. Little Dove hated that name almost as much as she loved her little ladybug. She flipped through her phone until she came to her e-mail. She scanned it again. Yes, they had agreed on 10. But then again he had struck her as a flake. There were so many flakes. They promise and brag; impress, talk, . . . and then vanish like smoke at the end of a bonfire, waving the air about them as they disappeared from sight.
There was a sudden knock at the door drawing her out of her musing. Soft. It was almost the sound of someone afraid to be heard. She stood and tossed her phone down on the bed and pulled back her hair. A small surge of excitement and adrenaline passed through her but it faded quickly. She’d done this before. This wasn’t anything new. Not all the time of course, but working minimum wage didn’t pay enough to make all the ends meet. Even with govt assistance checks, she hadn’t been able to make enough for a full apartment. She had promised herself the first time . . just this once. Just for the money. Only when I really need the money she had promised herself. She meant it. She meant it every time.
She rose and went to the door. She peered through the Judas’ hole. The boy on the other side was even younger than she was. Sigh. She hated taking advantage of really young pups. She was only 24, but she felt so much older. The boy outside the door could have possibly been too young . . . But . . . if he had money she needed . . .
She put on her best smile and cracked open the door.
The young man bowed his head slightly. “Little Dove?”
She smiled. “That is what you can call me sure. Thomas I presume?”
He smiled, embarrassed. Now his head was clearly bowed, either against the cold, or prying eyes.
“You are even prettier than your picture,” he said. “You have the same deep blue eyes, the same silky black hair, but . . .wow. So slender, and pure. You are just . . . yea . . .so beautiful. You probably get that all the time.”
She giggled slightly. “The picture was on purpose Thomas. It helps me weed out individuals who’s motives, and hearts are a bit colder than some others. And thank you.”
He nodded. . . or possibly shivered. She couldn’t tell which.
“Please come in,” she said smiling, and standing aside.
He hesitated. Then, looking back over his shoulder once, and seeing nothing but a parking lot with several parked cars, he entered the room and shut the door behind himself.
“I’m sorry the heat isn’t very good,” she said. Then laughed. “I suppose that is a fairly ironic ‘ice breaker’ huh?”
He smiled.
Thomas continued to hunch slightly as if the cold wind outside was still nipping at his heels. He appeared very ill at ease.
She tilted her head down slightly to make eye contact with him.
“I promise I don’t bite . . unless you ask me too,” she said smiling. He smiled even wider but still said nothing.
She watched him for a moment, awkward, shifting his feet. She felt out with her senses. He didn’t strike her as dangerous. Usually her instincts told her when someone was truly a threat to her. Thomas just seemed like a normal kid. Well, maybe not normal. But certainly not someone to be feared. He just stood there looking at her like a deer caught in headlights, frozen in his own personal space, almost unaware of anything going on around him.
“Are you sure you want this?” she asked him simply, trying hard to keep her voice even. She didn’t want to pressure him. He had contacted her asking for an hour, but this small, scared young man before her seemed more like a candid camera moment than a client. But he nodded.
“Oh yes,” he assured her. “I have been waiting my whole . . I mean . . .well it is just that I’ve never . . .”
Like lightning she understood.
“You are a virgin?”
He nodded.
“Then . . why are you coming to me?” she asked with genuine curiosity in her voice.
He didn’t reply at first. He looked scared. Then, slowly, the fear began to leave his eyes. He closed his eyes, and began to shuffle off his coat. His head remained hunched down. Beneath his overcoat he wore a bright red turtleneck shirt. He looked her right in the eyes. Then with a deep sigh of resignation, he pulled his shirt up and over his head. Little dove had to fight hard not to take a physical step backwards.
Before her was the body of an old man. No. No that wasn’t quite accurate. His body was young, but his structure was deformed. A massive muscle shape protruded from his back and hunched his shoulders forward significantly. All at once she realized Thomas wasn’t trying to stay out of the wind, or avoid her eye contact. He suffered from Kyphosis. Thomas was a hunchback.
“Don’t be afraid,” he said, clearly trying to control his own fear at the same time.
Any shock she experienced left her immediately.
“I’m not afraid,” said evenly. ‘You are a very sweet boy. Very kind”
“My friends,” he began, “Well . . the people I call my friends anyway, they paid for this. They said they wanted to see if I could . . you know . .ever get someone.”
“Oh Thomas, if you are being dared to do this, or forced, then you shouldn’t. . “
“No no!” he interrupted emphatically. “I really want to. They may have meant it as a joke, but if you are really willing, I really want to . . .”
She looked at him. In his eyes was a mixture of hope, and fear; purpose and regret. She understood him perfectly.
She approached him, slowly, pulling aside her warmer outer layer revealing the thin, frail fabric beneath. Her dark nipples shown through clearly as the fabric brushed them gently, strikingly offset from the rest of her ivory breasts. A light smattering of freckles crossed her chest and neck like the stars on a clear mountain night far from the intruding lights of the city. Her scar split the galaxy. Thomas was clearly surprised at how far down the front of her chest and side it traversed. Still, she was undeniably lovely. Thomas took in the vision before him allowing the full sight of her to fill his senses and consume his mind. She approached him, slipping easily, out of her silk night pants, allowing them to flow off of her child bearing hips like water off a rock face. They plummeted to the ground beneath her feet.
She stepped forward, hips swaying slightly to one side, as if she were a goddess walking on a pond, afraid to create a ripple. Then she knelt down before the young man and reached for his belt. She half expected him to pull away but he stood firm. She looked up at him. He looked her right in the eyes. There was now only excitement. The fear was gone.
Her nimble fingers quickly undid his belt. She took both sides of it in her hands and gentle pulled him towards the edge of the bed.
“It’s cold,” she said not breaking eye contact. “Please come warm me up.”
He smiled, genuinely this time. For the first time since he could remember, he was really actually happy. He allowed her to guide him to the bed. Then, just before she sat, he reached down and lowered her light blue panties. He did it . . . like an excited virgin would; Brass, direct . . clueless. She almost laughed but controlled herself. Thomas thankfully mistook her smile for pure happiness rather than laughter.
She laid back on the bed, allowing herself to stretch, fully exposed but for the transparent nighty top before him. . . teasing him slightly with her five foot two frame. Then ever so slightly she pulled her knees up and spread her legs before him. She watched, and enjoyed the look of wonder in his eyes.
Thomas didn’t waste a moment. As Little Dove lay there before him, he removed his own clothing as quickly as he could and climbed in on top of her. She noticed he wasn’t very well endowed, but it didn’t matter much. He was paying, she was getting paid. This wasn’t for her enjoyment, it was for his. But then, all too soon, she felt him begin to position himself before her.
“Wait wait,” she said closing her legs and pushing up against his chest. “You are not yet dressed for the occasion. . . and I am nowhere NEAR ready.”
A look of confusion came over his face. She sighed. Clearly she was going to have to lead this pool lamb by the hand. . . or other protruding members as time would dictate.
“Here,” she said patting the bed. “Lay down.”
He complied, laying flat on his back. His erection seemed larger now. “Good” she thought to herself. I’ll have something to work with.
She rolled half on top of him, and with one hand, began to rub her own clit. She circled, then flicked up, down . . . ran her fingers down the side, and then up again. Back and forth across her own body. Then, while maintaining pressure for herself, she parted her lips, and consumed his meat. Slowly she ran her mouth up, down, circling him with her tongue with every stroke. His head tilted back. He relaxed. He moaned. She allowed her tongue to stroke the underside of his member, tracing the soft tender skin until it flicked with a small spray of precum off the tip. She knew he wasn’t going to last much longer.
She tilted her head and raised her eyebrows, entirely to herself. If she was going to give him what he was paying for, she’d better get to it, ready or not.
Little Dove leaned into the nightstand and found a condom. Quickly she unwrapped it and rolled it down his engorged penis. Then, even knowing she wasn’t QUITE ready, she threw one leg over him straddling him and pressed herself down on top of him.
He didn’t slide in easily. She wasn’t soft enough for that. Her body hadn’t been treated by a lover, soft, wet, greedy. Still she felt him spreading her . . filling her. He took in an audible breath of air as he was pressed inside. She flexed her inner muscles, trying to make it as pleasurable as possible for him. She threw back her head and let out a moan. She only half felt it. Still, he wasn’t a bad kid. He deserved to think he was doing really well. She rode, sinking down, grinding forward, back, forward . . she arched her back allowing him to see her fully stretched above him, arching backwards like a statue, frozen in time. He cringed, his face tightened. And like that, he collapsed back, relaxed, laughing.
She laughed too in spite of herself.
After the door closed behind him, Little Dove returned to the dresser where she had left the money. She picked it up and thumbed through it. Then, opening the top drawer of the nightstand where she had retrieved the condom, she pulled out the rest of the cash sitting inside and added it to the stack. Four hundred and twenty one dollars. The motel room would cost her exactly three hundred and sixty which meant she had $60 for everything else. Payday was at the end of next week. She could make it work. She wouldn’t need any more of her private customers for now. The thought relieved her. Clients like Thomas were rare. Far more often she encountered individuals who treated her with far less respect. Sometimes, things got ugly.
She wrapped up the rest of her money in a tight roll, secured it with a rubber band, and then went into the bathroom. There, sleeping like a little angel in the bathtub, surrounded by a very fuzzy pink blanket and more stuffed animals then one could easily count, was her world, her ladybug fast asleep. When she had been an infant, she had been really fussy. Colic, cradle rash, hand foot and mouth . . you name it ladybug has dealt with it. But it was three years later and the quickly growing toddler was past most of that. Little Dove looked down at her world, all wrapped in pink, and suddenly glistening streams were coursing down her face. She tried to hold back, but the love and frustration all mixed and mingled like a brew in a witches kettle. The mixture was far too pure of a poison to hope to contain. She knelt down next to her child sobbing softly into the fuzzy pink blanket.
All at once a sharp intake of breath, and ladybug stirred. Little Dove quickly stood and stopped crying. She didn’t want to wake the sleeping child. She backed slowly out of the room and shut the door. Then, with a glance at her phone to check the time, 11:31, she slipped into bed. She was exhausted and intended to go straight to sleep. Her head hit the pillow. Instantly it was ablaze. Thoughts cascaded. Emotions mingled. Plans, fears, hopes, dreams . . the lines between them vanished. She could go back to school. No, there would never be enough money. Her job would promote her soon. Then she could probably make ends meet. Still the motel costs were so high. She needed a cheap room. No one was renting unless she had enough money to pay 2 months and a security deposit. She needed to save money. Saving money was impossible. The motel cost her about $1400 a month. That was more than she made at her work. She needed a second job. There was no one to watch her child if she took a second job. Her friends could help her. Her friends were far away. She could call them. One had already said no because she was prostituting herself.
She squeezed her eyes tight trying to shut out the thoughts.
I need something new . . . . I need a miracle.
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Daddy's Cage - 
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