Chapter 21
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
S triker…
You awake?
I pulled my phone off my chest and read the message. It was late. Like really fucking late.
Yeah, baby girl. What’s wrong? I asked.
Bad dream , she texted back.
Talk to me.
It wasn’t like her to be so openly vulnerable. I sat up on the couch and leaned my elbows on top of my knees, my phone held between my hands.
I guess I just miss my dad… finally is what she’d texted back and I had to think. It’d taken an awfully long fuckin’ time to arrive at just those seven little words.
I’m sorry, baby. As much as I’d like to be your daddy it certainly isn’t like that! I tried levity. I didn’t honestly know what to say.
I got nothing back for a lot of minutes. I worried that I’d said the wrong thing there… and then…
I’ll be honest. I’ve never actually met anyone into the whole sugar daddy thing – is that what you’re talking about?
I chuckled.
No, baby girl. The sugar daddy thing is similar but vastly different at the same time. One, most of those guys are lonely and rich; and there isn’t always a sexual dynamic to it. Most of the time it’s just a bored old rich guy looking to have some conversation and spoil a girl. What I want is… different.
Again, a long, long silence for just so few words in return.
What do you want? she asked.
A relationship. I sent simply. I thought about it, hard, for a full minute. Literally sitting there watching the digital clock in the top corner of my phone. Staring at the last number, until it changed, and staring at it some more… knowing that if we went down this rabbit hole, I could scare her off pretty quick, and I wasn’t at all surprised to feel an almost real physical pang of pain in the center of my chest at the thought.
Granted, I didn’t know Rarity super well, we’d only hung out the once or twice, but shit fire motherfucker, had she grown on me in such a short amount of time. She was so beautiful and selfless… fierce and plucky.
But like, one where she calls you daddy?
I chuckled at that.
That’s oversimplifying it.
She sent a laughing so hard it was crying emoji and said, You’re the one that opened up this line of conversation! Now I want to understand.
I cocked my head and texted back, hating how all nuance was lost when texting…
Why? I asked.
She gave me the right answer.
Because it seems important to you, and I like you, and I would like to understand and extend the same patience and understanding that you’ve extended to me.
I thought about that, and swallowed hard.
You sure? I feel like we can’t un-ring this bell once it’s been rung.
She took a while to answer and that was because it was a novel of a text.
I’m sure. I mean, it’s already kind of been rung, hasn’t it? Besides, just talking about something else is helping so much. It was a really bad dream and after knowing you, even for such a short time, I have a feeling you’re about to school me on some things that people just easily wave off or make fun of when it’s honestly kind of wholesome and I guess now I also want to understand because FOMO.
FOMO: Fear of Missing Out. Interesting.
There are some wholesome aspects to it, I said. There are a lot of unwholesome aspects to it too. It’s definitely not as black and white as people make it out to be.
I waited; I was stalling like a pussy here. I really didn’t want to lose out on talking to her. She had quickly become the highlight of my fuckin’ day when my phone went off and it was her on the other end.
Why do I feel like you’re afraid to tell me? She asked the question with a smiley face at the end. The one with the open mouth.
I was honest with her: I am. I don’t want you to stop talking to me.
You’re serious?
As a heart attack baby girl. Talking to you is the highlight of my day.
She sent back the emoji where the thing was tearing up and about to cry and I laughed to myself.
Don’t waste any tears on me, baby. Not worth it.
She came back with: They’re happy ones, though!
For real? I asked.
Yeah! Nobody’s ever said anything like that about me before.
I resisted the urge to tell her that was because she’d only fucked with insecure little boys and hadn’t had a real man, yet – but that shit would have come off as arrogant and douchey, even if it was the truth.
Well, I’m glad I could be the first, I said, and hoped it sounded humble enough.
I had almost convinced myself that I’d gotten her off the subject of the Daddy Dominant/Little Girl dynamic, when she circled right back around to it.
So… are you going to school me, Daddy? She put the little purple smiling demon emoji behind it and I felt a low growl crawl up my throat.
First of all, I said. It’s Daddy, with a capital ‘D’ always. It’s a title or honorific, if you will. Secondly, be careful what you wish for, little girl… some lessons come with spankings.
I smiled, I was teasing, but also a little worried that with the loss of nuance, that it might come off wrong via text.
LMAO! OMG! So why isn’t ‘little girl’ capitalized, then? she asked.
It was fixing to be a long fuckin’ night at this rate, but if she was game, then I was game…
Because in this dynamic, you’re the little girl, or the submissive.
A GIF started loading and I lost my shit, it was the ‘shocked Pikachu’ one where it was the little cartoon that was just all ‘huuuuh?’ mouth hanging open and the camera zooming in.
So, this is totally like, a Fifty Shades of Gray BDSM thing? The question was so cute, and innocently asked. I couldn’t help but smile until my fuckin’ face hurt.
BDSM, yes – Fifty Shades of Gray? Fuck no. The only thing that kept that shit from being a Criminal Minds mini-series was the fact the dickwad was a billionaire.
I think she put in so many crying from laughter emojis because she held down the button on them as she laughed uncontrollably on the other end of things for a solid, few minutes. I could get behind that – because for real, that whole saga was nothing but manipulation and sort of abuse. Not to mention pretty fuckin’ vanilla.
Okay, that was funny, she came back with. For real, though, I want to understand… so teach me.
Okay, we weren’t going to un-ring this bell. I guess in for a penny, in for a fuckin’ pound. I would rather she know from someone that knew what the hell they were talking about and had a mind to keep her safe, rather than some fuckin’ bitch ass wannabe out there that could and would manipulate and hurt her under the guise of kinky fun times.
Let me get ready for and into bed, then let the lesson begin, I guess.