15. Chapter 13
Chapter 13
Emery
Staring at the store, I’m wondering if I really want to go in there. I’ve seen the ads for this place and always thought their products were stunning but ultimately not for me. At least, not the previous version of me.
But this new version of me—can she have nice things?
With my brand-new sparkly phone in my hand and my pristine white backpack on my back, I decide, yes, I can have nice things. I don’t need to keep borrowing from Oakley. I can walk into this store and buy a sundress or two. Some cute belts. Maybe even one of those floppy sunhats that look irritating as fuck but seem to be what all the hot chicks wear on TV.
“Are we going in, princess?”
Darcy is at my side, our fingers once again laced together. He and Derek are passing me between the two of them, with Hudson and Xavier mostly watching on. I’m not sure how I feel about it, to be honest. I know we are in public, and I look like I could be one of their daughters, but . . .
I sigh at myself.
When did I become this wimpy, whiny version of myself? These men are turning me inside out. I’m finally feeling like I’m catching up with them, but I have no doubt that they will turn the tables on me again soon.
And all the casual touching is driving me crazy. Who knew hand holding could be so erotic? Darcy keeps tucking his thumb between our hands and drawing circles on my palm. And Derek’s hand on my back, so low that he’s almost caressing the swell of my ass? Fuck. Me.
I kind of want to just go into this store and get the shopping over with so that we can go back to the apartment and let them split me open again.
“Princess?”
I jump, totally lost in the idea of the five of us on that giant bed, arms and legs all tangled together. “Ah, yeah. I mean, yes, Daddy.”
He gives my hand a squeeze and we walk into the store. It’s one of those fancy places where you have to push the glass door open, the ambience of the space completely separate from the mall itself.
“How may I—oh, well, hello. Do you need some assistance?” The saleslady’s eyes drop to our joined hands, then shoot up over my shoulder as Derek, Hudson, and Xavier all walk in.
“Um, no, thanks. I just want to look around, is that okay?”
She scans the four men with me and then offers a tight smile. “Sure thing, sweetheart. Let me know if you need help with anything. I’ll just be over here.” She gestures to a rack of dresses, then picks up a weird little vacuum cleaner that has steam coming out of it.
My— the —men fan out and leave me standing alone. I almost ask for them to come back to me, wanting to ask for their help with choosing because this store is so out of my league. But they haven’t just wandered off in an uninterested haze. Nope, they are actively looking at clothing.
Dresses.
Jumpsuits.
Skirts.
Tops.
Hudson even has a coat hanging from his fingertips.
My eyes go wide, and I glance over at the saleslady. She is tracking each of them, the vacuum thingy aimed at nothing as steam froths from it. Slowly, she turns to look at me with an expression I can’t place, and it’s my turn to offer her a tight smile.
Let her think whatever she wants.
She turns back to the men, and seeing that they all have a few hangers in their hands, she claps her hands together. “How about I get you a rack, and we put your lovely young lady in a fitting room?”
Obviously, whatever she was thinking moments before has been tucked away in favor of the big commission she’ll get from this sale.
She disappears for a moment and then comes back with an empty clothes rack on wheels. “The fitting rooms are at the back.”
Figuring that is an instruction for me to follow her, I make my way toward the back, pausing to look at a cute cream lace dress. The neckline reminds me of something a priest would wear, the bodice gives the impression that it will mold to my body, then it flares out from the waist, thick folds giving the skirt flare. I carefully retrieve my size, then go to the fitting rooms.
There are four, two on each side with a space in between that faces a big mirror at the very back and some comfy-looking chairs at the opening, which the men have all taken advantage of. The saleslady has chosen the far back left, with the huge pale blue curtain pulled back by a thick white rope.
The woman follows me into the fitting room, and I’m immediately confronted by the now-full clothing rack.
“Okay, if you go ahead and hang that dress—oh, isn’t it lovely? Just came in today. I can’t wait to see it on you—but yes, hang it on the rack, then change into one of the outfits your, erhm, friends have selected for you. Then give me a call, I’ll come in and make sure everything looks perfect or nix an outfit if it isn’t working for you before they see it. How does that sound?”
I watch her reflection in the mirror, and while I can tell she is slightly uncomfortable, she isn’t going to say anything.
No, wait, I’m wrong.
“I’m just going to ask—you don’t need to answer if you don’t want to—but I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I didn’t.”
I brace myself. Is she going to ask me if I’m a prostitute? An escort?
A cool hand lands on my elbow, and I turn around to look into earnest eyes. “Are you okay, sweetheart? Do I need to call security?”
This random stranger is worried about me? What am I projecting out into the world that is so different from a few days ago that the cab driver and this sales woman think I need help? It’s ironic, really. This is the one time in my life that I don’t need help.
I know my eyes are wide and my eyebrows are raised, but I can barely feel my face because of the shock. I swallow and try to form words because, with every passing second, more concern fills her face. “Yeah, I mean, yes. I’m okay. They’re actually my—”
What do I say? Lovers? Family friends? One is my dad, and the rest are his friends?
Interest sparks in her eyes, and I decide that I’m sticking with my balls to the wall mantra. And besides, the truth might make her day.
I lean into her and quietly say, “They’re my sugar daddies.”
Her mouth pops open with an O. “Oh, well, wow.”
Grinning, I hang my dress on the rack. “Yeah, this shopping trip is a reward for . . . things.”
I glance at her from the corner of my eye. Wide-eyed, she nods, her eyes going unfocused, and it’s hard not to snicker at the idea of what she is imagining. Is she honestly picturing the five of us together?
After a few seconds, she straightens and adjusts her blouse before grinning at me conspiratorially. “Well, it sounds like we need to make sure they spoil you really well. How about we start trying these on, and once I have your shape and fit, I’ll pull a few extra things that I think will work well for you?”
I nod and hold out my hand. “I’m Emer-Emmy.”
“Rhonda,” she offers with a quick shake and then gestures at the clothes. “It’s nice to meet you, Emmy. Okay, let’s get started.”
Almost an hour later, and four thousand outfit changes, I’m pulling off the dress I selected, tired but happy. I have no idea which outfits or how many I’m walking out of the shop with today, but I know that I want this white dress. Even if I have nowhere to wear it.
With nothing but my strapless bra and a black thong on, I giggle at the memory of the men—the daddies—seeing me walk out of the fitting room with the almost schoolgirl uniform outfit that Rhonda selected. She’d whispered something about playing into their fantasies.
I really like Rhonda.
If I didn’t have plans for my thirty K, I’d totally be coming back here to give her the biggest commission she’s ever received.
Just as I start to bend down to retrieve my sundress, the curtain flutters. A laugh bubbles out of me, as I assume Rhonda is coming back in with yet another outfit. “I thought—”
But it’s not Rhonda.
It’s Hudson.
And the look on his face in the mirror has my knees going weak.
No, not Hudson. Viper.
Viper presses up behind me, his chest into my back. With a low, grumbling tone, he issues an order that my body automatically follows, as if my brain has decided, Daddy’s here, I don’t need to think anymore.
And honestly, I don’t hate it.
“Put your hands on the mirror and spread your legs.”
As soon as I comply, his hands settle on my waist, and he dips his head down to my ear, his warm breath caressing my cool skin. “Look at you being a good little girl for me.”
His hand disappears between us, and my heart almost beats out of my chest, the heat they have been teasing out of me all morning coming back to life.
Is he going to fuck me right here? In this fitting room that is only cut off from the rest of the store by a heavy curtain? Fuck. Why am I so excited by that idea?
Oh, shit. Is this the semi-public sex they were talking about? Will this be my first taste?
My gaze drops to my barely covered pussy as I feel him cup me from behind, his fingertips appearing in the mirror between my thighs. “This pussy is mine for the weekend, isn’t it?”
He drags one of his fingers over my clit, sending zings of pleasure throughout my body. “Yes, Daddy.” My words are a whimper.
“And I can do whatever I want to my pussy, correct? Because it’s mine. Mine and theirs.”
I nod while putting a great deal of concentration into keeping my knees locked so that I don’t press my thighs together.
“And if I want to play with my pussy, you are going to give it to me, aren’t you? You’re going to be a good girl and open those pretty thighs, spread those knees wide, and I can play with my pussy however I want. Can’t I?” Viper drags that finger over my clit again and my core clenches.
Holy shit.
My heart is beating so hard that my entire body thuds with the force of it. Images flicker in my mind.
Me, straddling Viper in the back of Daddy’s SUV as he fucks my pussy while we drive home.
Viper bending me over the kitchen counter, slowly thrusting in and out of me, ignoring me as he talks to Angel who is cooking dinner, neither of them acknowledging my existence.
Me, lying on the dining table, legs spread as Viper eats from a plate between my knees.
Another whimper slips past my lips, and I’m panting now. I think I might actually come just from his words and the filthy images in my head. “Yes, Daddy. This pussy is yours to play with, whenever and however you want.”
I’m pulled tight like a bow, but I’m also a quivering mess, and I just need him to do something, anything.
This time, he crooks three fingers and presses more firmly, the pressure moving the fabric of my thong out of the way so that two fingers slip into my soaking entrance.
I gasp, my fingers clawing at the mirror as I try to keep myself upright.
“What a slutty baby girl you are. So wet for us. A good girl, but slutty, nevertheless. And you know what good girls get, kitten?” Viper pumps his fingers in and out of me, so motherfucking slowly that I think I might die right here and now.
There is absolutely no way I can answer him. My brain has gone totally offline.
“Good girls get rewards.” His fingers disappear from between my legs, and this time, my whimper is less oh my god and more no, don’t go. “Shh, it’s okay, kitten. I’m just getting your reward.”
In the mirror, I can see his arm moving, hand dipping into his pocket, but besides a flash of purple, I see nothing. Seconds later, both of his hands slip between my legs. One moves my panties to the side, while the other slips—oh shit, how many fingers is that?
He moves and adjusts things around until smooth silicone presses against my clit. My panties are put back in place, then both of his hands are on my waist, one set of fingers glistening with my wetness and my vagina feeling full and heavy.
“How does that feel?” His fingers flex, and it takes me a moment to process his question and the fact that he has just inserted something inside of me and left it there.
I wiggle from side to side, moaning as rough texture rubs against my clit. “G-good.”
“Not uncomfortable?”
I squeeze the inner muscles of my pussy. “No, Daddy.”
“Perfect.” Viper kisses the curve of my neck, then steps back toward the curtain, one hand jammed into his pocket.
My eyes widen as I watch him prepare to leave me here, like this.
Just before he leaves, he reaches into his pocket. “And, kitten?”
I keep staring at his reflection.
“You have permission to orgasm as many times as you need to until we get back to the apartment. Then you are on restriction. Okay?”
I nod, and he pulls his phone out of his pocket before disappearing behind the curtain.
As many times as I ne—
“Oh fuck,” I whisper-cry, knees buckling.
High speed, continuous vibrations surround my pussy. The rough texture over my clit is rushing me to the edge of an orgasm while the part that is inserted inside of me is stimulating my pussy and making me spasm like I never have before.
My pelvis rocks back and forth with a mind of its own, chasing the fireworks it knows to expect from these men. Heat flares out from my core, consuming every ounce of my consciousness. The strapless bra is suddenly too constricting as my tits grow heavy and my nipples tighten. My whole fucking being tightens. I’ve never had a fucking toy—let alone a goddamn vibrating one—inside my body before, but holy shit, I think I am about to die from the pleasure. Cause of death: brain-melting orgasm.
It doesn’t take long—less than a minute—before my orgasm crashes over me. The vibrations are relentless and perfectly placed. I gasp and moan and do my best to be quiet as fuck, but I have zero idea if I manage it. I couldn’t give a fuck if I don’t. And besides, I’m pretty sure Rhonda would be happy to know she is a part of this dirty fantasy.
The vibrations slow down after my orgasm, gently petering off, leaving me a panting, sweaty, and wet mess against the mirror.
What the actual fuck?
My legs feel like goddamn jelly and my lips are numb. Every muscle in my body is trembling as I suck in massive lungful’s of air.
When I finally push upright, aftershocks continue to catch me by surprise. My panties are soaked, and somehow, my hair looks like someone has been running their fingers through it aggressively. And my eyes, oh my god. The pupils are huge. My cheeks are rosy. I look like I’ve just been fucked hard, and fucked fast.
A dirty little quickie. And quick it had been.
I glance down at my panties and see that, from this angle, there is the tiniest bulge. Am I supposed to leave this in? Viper didn’t give any directions about leaving it in, plus we are going to lunch now.
Then it clicks. This is why I have permission to come as many times as I want before we get home. They are going to drive me insane with this thing inside of me. Semi-publicly.
My eyes flutter closed at the thought.
As many orgasms as I want until we get back to the apartment.
Why is the thought of being on restriction after that so goddamned hot?