No Control (Kellic)

5. Paparazzi Are Assholes

"Darling, it's time to wake up." I heard a soft voice whisper, their hand shaking my shoulder lightly.

I groan a little bit, moving so I could see who it was that woke me up. I rubbed the tiredness out of my eyes, yawning while I did so. When I looked up, blinking my eyes into focus, I saw my Sugar Daddy standing there. He was dressed in casual clothes, similar to the clothing he wore the night before.

He wore a black shirt with red lips on the chest, red and black checkered pant, and he had on red converse high tops, the laces black. I slowly sit up, moving my messy hair away from my eyes.

"W-What is it?" I asked, my voice croaky from sleep.

"I put some of my clothes in the bathroom for you. We'll be leaving to get you your own clothes in an hour." He ruffled my morning hair gently, causing a pout to form on my lips. "I'll be warming up something for breakfast while I'm waiting." He kissed my pouty lips quickly and stealthy before leaving the room quietly.

I fall back onto the bed, wishing I could have more sleep. Sleep would have to wait thought. I still had to have my Sugar Daddy go and get some clothing, possibly other things as well. My only concern was that he wouldn't like my choice in clothing.

I didn't dress is dresses, or skirts. I dressed in leggings, short shorts, tight t-shirts, laced clothing, muscle shirts, skinny jeans meant for females; I wore clothing that showed off my natural curves. Sometimes I didn't feel like showing my curves, so I'd wear clothing that would not show them as much. My shoe choice was unisex, including converse, vans, toms, etc. Every so often I wore combat boots. The shoes I wore didn't bother me, as they could go with either gender. At least I thought they did.

What bothered be was that people would judge me for dressing comfortably in clothes that I liked to wear. I have been lashed at, both physically, and verbally by these people. Most comments came from people who were made into assholes, who were not involved in the SD/SB lifestyle, nor were okay with the kind of things I wear or do.

The people who commented on my looks, or my sexual orientation, were nearly always arrogant, illiterate on the subject of the Sugar Daddy and Sugar Daddy lifestyle, and the list could go on.

I have had a previous Sugar Daddy before, but things did not work out on either end. People seemed to know this, but I think it was my mind over thinking the subject.

When people gave me certain looks I would think, "oh my god, they know.", when in reality they most likely don't. They're just judging me based on what I wear and make assumptions about my life style.

I did my best to ignore stares from people before the incident. After the incident, I seemed to pick up on ever little look thrown my way. It has had an effect on me mentally. I desperately needed to try to not be so fearful of the concept of going out into the public. People were going to be assholes, I needed to get over that.

My greatest fear was that my new Sugar Daddy would turn out to be the same way as my old Sugar Daddy. I have been put in a constant state of worry due to that fear that lingered in the depths of my mind. I was hoping Vic would be different from him, and at least have some morals.

I let out a shaky breath, deciding it was best to end my thoughts there before they could get too hectic, or too out of control. I removed the blankets from my body, standing up and going to the bathroom after doing a few morning stretches.

When I stepped into the bathroom I noticed a Nirvana shirt on top, skinny jeans in the middle, and on the bottom was a white jacket. They rested on the granite counter top of the sink. Next to the clothes were some gray socks and combat boots that were just my size. On the other side of the clothing was a box. A note was ontop of it. It was in a neat, yet sloppy handwriting style.

'Hope these fit well.
Your Sugar Daddy,
Vic '

I raised my eyebrow slightly, opening the small box and blushing mildly when I saw what was in it. It was a fuucking thong. A black, laced, thong.

I closed the bathroom door before going over to the clothes. I removed the clothing I had on, which wasn't much, and began to place my clothing on. I put on the thong, not wanting to upset him by not doing it, plus I really had no other option.

I then put on the high waist skinny jeans, they fitted alright, slightly too big, but it was better than being too small. The shirt was next on my list, on the front of it was the Nirvana logo and the yellow smiley face, while the back had the quote, "Flower-sniffin', kitty-pettin', baby-kissin' corporate rock whores". Once I had the shirt on I finished up my morning routine; dressing in the remaining clothes, brushing and flossing my teeth, and fixing my hair.

Now that I was done with my morning routine, I went to go find Vic. I checked the kitchen, seeing he was just finishing up. He took notice of my presence, grinning and saying a welcoming 'hello, dear'.

I beam back at him, not saying much. Vic placed a small square piece of sausage and egg casserole on my plate, then one on his own. I grabbed the forks, placing one on his plate and the other on my own.

We didn't speak much during breakfast, just quiet small talk between a Sugar Daddy and his Sugar Baby. We were nearly done when I decided to say something that was quite important for the clothe shopping experience. I had prepared myself for the worst response he could give me to the question as well.

"I'm not for sure if I told you, but I dress a bit differently from most guys. I dress in clothing that shows off my curves, sometimes I don't though." I took the last bite of the casserole from my plate, chewing it well while I waited for Vic to respond. He paused from eating so he could respond to what I had stated.

"I will buy you whatever you enjoy wearing. Do not fret over it, dear. Honestly, I don't agree with the Sugar Daddies who restrict what their Sugar Baby wears." He ate one last bite before he stopped eating.

I let out a quiet sigh of relief. At least My Sugar Daddy didn't restrict me from not wearing the clothes like my last Sugar Daddy.

-

We were halfway through our shopping experience when I noticed a certain male. He wore casual clothing, and had a modern haircut for his ginger hair. The hair was slicked back and well cut on the sides. A good quality camera connected to a strap on his neck. Black framed glasses rested on his freckled nose. This guy had been following us from a distance for a while. It was honestly starting to worry me and cause me to be fidgety. I believe My Sugar Daddy noticed too, because he had began to rush me a bit.

I had just picked out my last piece of clothing to complete an outfit when I noticed a flash from a camera come from the ginger who was practically stalking us throughout the store.

"Fuucking hell." I heard Vic mutter angrily. "C'mon Darling, it's time to leave." His voice had gone from angry to soft in a split second. It was freighting how fast his voice could change.

A moments later Vic and I carried five bags, my Sugar Daddy carried three, while I carried two, outside to out car. We had taken the back entrance, accompanied by two muscular security guards. There was a small crowd of people at the front entrance of the store, the only thing keeping them out were the security guards. Most of them were wanting to meet Vic, I had no clue why. I assumed my Sugar Daddy was someone semi-famous, and that the guy following us had belonged to the dreaded, privacy violating, paparazzi.

My Sugar Daddy's car was pulled in by a person he trusted. Once our car had arrived, we rushed out to the slick black vehicle, seating ourselves quickly. My Sugar Daddy was in the driver seat, while I was in the passenger seat. The bags of clothing were placed in the back seat.

The question that ran through my mind right was, who is my Sugar Daddy, and what level is his fame? However, I left the question in my mind, not voicing it due to my fear of my Sugar Daddy getting angry at me.