Inspired by DDLG stories I've read.
*18+ only; has mature and sexual content*
Don't read this story if you don't approve of BDSM or DDLG. Thanks!
When a man finds Skye living homeless in an alley, she has no idea what to expect from the situation. L...
I got my first 'daddy.' I turn around so Skye can change, and grin. It's like music to my ears. When she's finished, she climbs into bed and lays down, still holding her stuffed pig.
"I'll wake you up bright and early tomorrow morning. Goodnight, love." I tuck her in and kiss her forehead.
"Goodnight."
Skye's POV
I dream of the ocean again. It's a recurring dream of mine. Ever so relaxing. It's how I know I'm in a happy place. But this time, I'm with Callum. His pale blue eyes making me give in to his every desire. I just can't seem to tell him 'no.' He takes my hand, drawing me closer to him, and leans toward me. His lips meet mine and-
"Rise and shine, love." Callum's voice punctures my dream bubble.
I groan and rub my eyes, wishing I could go back and finish what was started. One of the worst feelings in the world is waking from a good dream. I open my eyes and see the pale blue that I dreamed of only a few seconds ago. My skin flushes and I pull the sheets over my head.
"None of that," Callum scolds playfully. "If you want to come with me, you have to get dressed and ready."
I sit up, eyes wide. I forgot I was going to work with him. I quickly throw the sheets off of me, scrambling to get ready, and an amused Callum leaves the room so I can dress myself. I choose a black ruffly crop top and dark booty shorts to match. If it's anywhere near as hot as it was yesterday, I'm wearing a minimal amount of clothing.
(The outfit I imagine) **Note: When I say booty shorts, I don't actually mean shorts showing off the booty. I'm referring to shorts that end a little below the booty. I just think "short shorts" sounds funny so I don't say it.
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I tie my hair into a quick ponytail and venture from my room. Callum is texting someone on his phone and distractedly hands me a bagel with cream cheese. I take a bite and admire his good looks. He's in a suit, minus the jacket. The tie is centered perfectly, as if he's been tying them forever. He probably has.
Callum looks up from his phone and catches me staring. He smirks, but the smirk drops when he sees my clothes. His eyes rake over me, almost looking hungry. When he remembers I'm still watching him, he brings his gaze back up to meet mine.
"Absolutely not," he finally says.
"What?" I look down at my outfit.
"Go change. You are not wearing that in my office."
"I will not change," I huff, crossing my arms. "I look good."
Callum steps toward me and lowers his voice.
"Men crawl in and out of my office all day. I will not have them staring at what's-" He stops himself and tries again. "I will not have them staring at you."
I break into a grin. Who's the jealous one now?
"You were going to say 'what's mine,' weren't you?" I casually tug at his tie, teasing.
Callum grabs my wrist and I startle.
"Damn right," he growls.
His gaze rakes over me again, slowly. I think of the dream I had, and shy away from him, carefully pulling my wrist from his grip.
"I will not change," I repeat, heading for the front door. "I look good."
***
When we arrive to Callum's building, we take the elevator up to his office. Callum tightens his grip on my hand and glares daggers when one of his employees looks at me. They look away quickly, not wanting to anger their boss.
When we walk into his office, we're immediately greeted by a large desk. There's a black desk chair behind it, and bookshelves behind the whole setup. Everything looks almost brand new. Of course, everything very well may be. His desk has a plaque on the front that says 'C. Hearst.' In front of his desk sit two chairs. To the left of the door, there's a table with a coffee machine and snacks. To the right, there is a black lounge couch, much like you would see in a therapist's office.
Callum pulls one of the two chairs behind the desk, putting it right next to his.
"Have a seat," he mutters gruffly, still annoyed that an employee checked me out.
I plop down in a chair and he sits in his chair next to me. He gets to work and pulls a laptop from his briefcase, starting to type. I watch over his shoulder. Blah, blah, New York Times. Blah, blah, publish tomorrow. I stay quiet as employees drift in and out, asking Callum questions and talking to him about schedules. After a while, I start to get bored.
I get up and inspect the coffee and snack table. There's all sorts of different kinds of coffee and snacks. I don't drink coffee, and I never have. It's too bitter, plus the caffeine makes me jittery. I don't like it.
"Can this make hot chocolate?" I poke at the machine.
"Unfortunately not, love. Only coffee," Callum responds, still typing away.
I sigh sadly and go to sit back down next to Callum.
"I have an idea," Callum says, hearing my sigh. "How about you make a list of rules, that you think are fair of me to ask of you? We can go over them when we get home. When you're finished, you can make daddy a picture. What do you say?"
I nod happily and accept the paper and pens he gives me. Anything to keep busy. I try to think of things Callum dislikes, and things he prefers me to do. I incorporate my own feelings into it as well. When I'm finished with the rule list, it looks like this:
Rules for Skye 1) Listen to daddy 2) No bad words 3) Always tell daddy when something is wrong 4) No yelling 5) Bedtime is at 11 P.M 6) No junk food after 9 P.M 7) Tell daddy if he does something you dislike
I spend the rest of Callum's work day drawing him pictures, as he requested. It's a good way to pass the time. I decide that tomorrow, I'll draw for him some more.
