Abby
“I still can’t believe you planned this completely under my nose. It took me way too long to figure out where we were going.”
Misha huffs a laugh, feeding me another spoonful of ice cream. I’m perched on his lap in the back of a VIP area of the theme park, having our second sweet treat of the day.
“Well, you fell asleep in the car, lesnaya. And it wasn’t too far of a drive. I didn’t have to make up too grand of a story.”
“Still, I should’ve known we weren’t leaving at six a.m. to go to a farmers’ market.”
He’d gotten us matching outfits and planned the entire day completely on his own.
I vaguely remember being scooped out of bed at an ungodly hour, Misha changing my clothes and re-braiding my hair after it came loose during the night.
He carried me to the car and buckled me in like a child while cooing about the market and telling me I could sleep for a while longer.
With sunglasses on, I didn’t even wake when the sun rose, and it was only when we parked and he put the lanyard with my VIP pass around my neck that I realized where we were.
“If it remains so easy to fool you for the rest of our lives, I’ll be pleased. Surprising you and spoiling you are my two favorite hobbies these days.”
My stomach flutters at the mention of the rest of our lives.
He’s been so raw with me since he told me everything, since our declarations of intent.
Like a man who’s confident that he has exactly what he wants and isn’t afraid of scaring me away.
The sickly pit of shame that’s throbbed since I didn’t tell him everything threatens to spill up and out, but I tamp it down for the thousandth time. Soon. But not today. Not to ruin today.
A server brings a selection of real food, and we tuck in to breakfast. Since we arrived for early access and rode a few rides already this morning, we’re only now eating a proper meal.
Although I’d argue a churro and ice cream are perfectly nutritious.
Misha makes no move to let me off his lap, and I don’t resist at all.
We’re tucked away from any prying eyes, and nobody seems to care that this giant man has continued to feed me bite by bite.
“Have you been here before?”
“Never.”
“What! You’ve lived in Florida for so long…”
His wink and peck to my temple make me melt even further into him, the thin athletic material of his shirt doing nothing to shield me from his heat or the iron-hard muscles that make my mouth water.
Something about him today is soft, caring…
he’s anticipated my every need and allowed me to flitter around the park and have zero adult thoughts in my head all morning.
“I’ve never had anyone I wanted to come with. To be honest, I didn’t think it would really be my scene. But since someone,” he says, tickling my side and making me giggle, “kept talking about it, I decided now was the perfect time.”
“And what do you think?”
“Any day with you would be precious to me, Abby. I’ve loved watching you have fun. And I’ll admit, the last ride, the one that went so fast? That was pure fun. I’d ride it ten times in a row, if only to hear you shriek with laughter.”
His gaze is so tender, and I’m about to say screw it and tell him my darkest secrets right here, because he doesn’t deserve my lies of omission…
“Daddy! Daddy, did you see! I got to meet—”
The little girl who’s run up to Misha and is excitedly pawing at his knee is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.
She’s wearing a poofy pink dress and is covered in glitter, eyes bright at whoever she just met.
As her eyes widen, though, it’s clear she’s noted my presence in Misha’s lap, and as she looks closer, she sees he’s not her Daddy.
“Hi, little one,” he says gently. “I think I see your Daddy behind you.”
As he points to the not-as-tall, not-nearly-as-handsome version of Misha who’s jogging toward us, clearly relieved to have found his daughter, the girl regains her confidence and turns her gaze back to Misha.
“You must be a prince! Daddy, I found a prince!”
With an apologetic wave, the man scoops up the little girl and kisses her cheek.
“I don’t think he’s a prince, sweetheart. And you know you can’t run away from Daddy like that!” Before turning to leave, he thanks us for keeping her calm. They head back to their table, with the little girl waving bye to Misha and blowing him a kiss.
“Looks like I have some competition, Daddy,” I tease, but as he tenses beneath me, I worry I’ve made a mistake.
Twisting so that I can see his expression, I realize two things at once.
The look on his face is anything but displeasure at my teasing.
Heat, intensity, longing…but not anger. And…
he’s growing harder beneath me by the second, clenching the spoon in his hand so tightly that I fear he’s going to bend it in half.
Neither of us speaks for a moment until the arm he’s had loosely around my waist for the meal tightens, then moves lower on my stomach. With a hand on my lower abdomen, he leans down to speak directly into my ear, his beard scratching my neck and making goose bumps pepper my skin.
“One day you’re going to call me that,” he growls, low and soft, “and you’re going to mean it, Abby. I long for that day.”
Fuck me. The whimper that escapes is barely audible, but it’s enough to earn me a shush and a reminder that I haven’t finished my breakfast. Slowly, both of us emerge from the intensity-induced fog of the moment, and other than the wetness between my legs and the ache in my core, I’m ready to get back out and have more fun.
“I have another gift for you, lesnaya, before we return to our fun. It’s something that I think you’ll enjoy, and something I know I will.”
He lifts me effortlessly from his lap to my feet, with my back to the rest of the patrons, and reaches down into the backpack he brought with all my creature comforts.
Period supplies just in case, sunscreen, lip balm, fresh socks for later in the day, gum, my favorite water flavor packets…
the man thought of it all. As he pulls out a little velvet bag and places it in my palm, the object inside is heavier than I anticipated, and I move immediately to open it.
The velvet-soft cone falls from the bag into my hand with ease, a pretty green gem at the end confirming what I already know it to be.
“A butt plug.”
“Mmm.”
“Your gift to me, in the middle of this theme park, is an emerald-green butt plug?”
“You know it’s my favorite color, darling.”
The giggle that escapes turns into slightly manic, silly laughter, and Misha joins in until my stomach hurts and I have tears in my eyes.
“I’m sorry, it’s not funny. It’s just…I was not expecting this.”
His laughter has faded back into the quiet intensity he never quite lost after I called him daddy earlier.
“I’d like for you to wear it.”
“Okay.”
“Today.”
“Today?”
“Now.”
“Now?”
My brain has completely short-circuited, and his wry, patient smile crinkles the corners of his eyes with amusement.
“I want you to put your custom plug bag into its bag, take this little tube of lube with you, and go into that single-stall restroom on the far wall. It’s clean, of course.
I would never put anything inside your body that hadn’t been sterilized.
I want you to put one foot on the toilet, pour more lube than you think you’ll need onto this cute little thing, and push it slowly into your sweet ass. Can you do that for me, Abby?”
Well, when he puts it like that.
Nodding dumbly, I take my little trinket and head for the restroom.
This isn’t the first time I’ve had something in my ass, although in the past it’s always been painful.
When Misha asked me days ago if I’d like to eventually try this, I agreed, as long as we started slow.
There’s no way his pierced monstrosity is ever going to fit inside me, but I didn’t have the heart to tell him that.
When I’m done, I worry that I look obvious walking back out to Misha.
Unlike other men who are sitting around scrolling on their phones, his gaze was locked on the bathroom door the moment I emerged, and I have a feeling he was watching the entire time.
I try not to waddle as the plug settles into place.
It’s less noticeable, a dull stoking of my arousal instead of a sharp pressure.
“All good?”
“All good.”
“Perfect. I know exactly what I want to ride next.”
What he wanted to ride next, it turns out, was a dark ride with multiple hidden drops.
Clinging to his arm for the first two and screeching like a banshee, I’d almost forgotten about my new accessory.
Almost. When the penultimate drop caught me off guard, my scream was multiplied by a sensation so shocking and foreign that I almost peed myself.
The fucking butt plug buzzed.
Out of nowhere. In my ass. Buzzed.
Briefly, I thought I’d imagined it. Or maybe the ride had gone over a rough patch in just the right way to make me think it was buzzing. At the top of the final, biggest drop, I caught a glimpse of Misha in the light. Gripping a tiny controller in his hand.
“Oh you son of a—”
As we plunged over the final drop, the relentless pulsing of the plug almost pushed me over the edge of my release, my scream contrasting his sinister laugh.
His hands, big enough by far to hide the remote, were no hint as to whether torture was incoming.
On rides when I expected it? Nothing. Yet in a quiet theater show, he was relentless.
Now, as we stop for another snack, I’ve solicited a truce so that I don’t scream an orgasm in a busy candy shop. I had to barter and beg, guilting him at the prospect of traumatizing a child who’s just trying to pick out their favorite treats.
While we’re in the gummy candy section, eyeing the delectable variety bags, Misha’s eyes alight like a, well, kid in a candy store, and a boy approaches. He’s looking at treats well out of his reach and sizing up Misha like he’s exactly the help he needs.