Daddy's Game Read online

  “Oh, you paint portraits? I’m sure Mason would love to have a portrait painted of me,” Nellie said.

  “Really?” Carmen said, feeling uncomfortable with being put on the spot.

  Nellie nodded and Carmen was thrilled when Sloane changed the subject. “So what kind of daddy is Natron?” she asked.

  This caught Carmen off guard. “I’m not sure what you mean,” she responded.

  “Like is he into punishment? Does he make you stand in the corner or is he into more pain or humiliation stuff, what?”

  “Oh, games. He likes to play games,” Carmen said.

  “Oh, I love this guy,” Charmaine clapped her hands. “What kind of games?”

  “Like the first time we were together we played ‘Everything But…’ where we did everything but have sex, I mean intercourse.” She snickered. “It didn’t really work out that way, but that was the goal anyway.”

  The girls laughed.

  “So what’s your favorite thing about having a daddy and being his little girl?” Carmen asked them.

  “My daddy keeping me in line. I wouldn’t be where I am if he weren’t so strict with me,” Lucinda said.

  “I don’t have one right now, but I love when they make you get on your knees and worship their cock,” Sloane said with a dreamy smile.

  “I don’t have one either, but when I did, I loved when he tied me up, pulled my pigtails, and rode me hard while he smacked my ass,” Charmaine said. “Mmm.”

  “That is hot,” Carmen said.

  “Okay, I have something that Charles did the other night that was super hot,” Kimberly said.

  “Oh good. It’s been so long for me I have to live vicariously through y’all,” Sloane groaned, leaning in so she wouldn’t miss a detail.

  “Well, I was sleeping, dreaming actually, and I felt this body press up against mine from behind. This hard cock poking me in the small of my back, against my ass. Then he pulled my nightgown up and pulled my legs apart. I sleep on my stomach and usually without underwear so he already had easy access, but I was totally asleep.

  “I was dreaming about Russian spies or something; I was a spy, and there was some sort of espionage going on. I almost thought, as I woke up a little, that the person behind me about to fuck me was a spy and I had to go along with it or I would blow my cover. That made it super hot. I started wiggling my ass, moaning a little, encouraging him. He spread me wide and entered me. I swear I don’t think I’ve ever been so ready for it, and it was amazing because I was halfway in my dream world and halfway in the real world—in bed with my fiancé.

  Then he fucked me so hard, so relentlessly. It was super hot not only because it felt so damned good, but also because there was almost a questionable consent—I love that he just woke up in the night and took what was his.”

  “Damn, that’s sexy,” Nellie said, fanning herself.

  “So you weren’t irritated? I might have been if I had an early day the next morning,” Lucinda said.

  “No. Maybe because I was having a sexy dream already, I’m not sure. But he would have stopped had I asked him to,” Kimberly said.

  “Really?” Carmen asked.

  “Of course, that’s what being a submissive means. You do what Daddy says, what he wants, unless you don’t want to and then you just say no. No always means no, even when you’re submissive to your partner. That’s why we have safewords. I think that’s one of the things people who don’t have relationships like that don’t understand. Your submission is a gift, one that can always be revoked.”

  That made sense. Carmen enjoyed the rest of the meal, getting to know the girls better. It pleased her to have new friends she could talk to about her relationship with Natron. Her other girlfriends would have thought she’d lost her mind. They were all about equality and not letting the man get the upper hand. These girls understood you could give the man the upper hand because you could trust him to take care of you, and that deepened the relationship.

  The party soon broke up with Lucinda and Sloane leaving first, each citing an early morning the next day. Then Kimberly and Nellie stood up. “Are you ready, Carmen?” Nellie asked.

  “I think I’ll stick around for a little while with Charmaine if that’s okay.”

  “Sure, y’all have fun. We’re exhausted. Let’s go shopping one day soon, alright?” Nellie asked.

  Carmen nodded, waved them goodbye and went back to her conversation with Charmaine.

  “You think she’s an airhead, don’t you?” Charmaine asked, referring to Nellie.

  “Well, I… no,” Carmen stammered.

  “Liar.”

  “She’s not?”

  “No. She is a pageant queen, that’s obvious, and she can be annoying. She’s quite a princess and all, but her heart is pure gold. She might come across superficial, but she is someone you want in your corner.”

  “I see. Do you mind if I ask… what’s up with Sloane? She seemed really mad that you were late.”

  Charmaine brushed a hand in front of her face. “Sloane’s as much of a sister to me as any of my half-sisters. She and I have known each other for years, and our relationship is complicated. We fight, but we’re close. Like sisters.”

  They talked for another half hour before they paid their tab.

  On the way out, Carmen bought two posters of Stranger Danger from a vendor just outside, one for herself and one for Charmaine. She handed it to Charmaine, who winked at her. “For my wall,” Charmaine said. “Awesome, do you need a ride home?”

  “No, I’m good, but thanks. I didn’t drink that much,” Carmen said.

  “Suit yourself,” Charmaine said, getting into her black SUV limousine.

  Carmen practically floated to her car. Normally she was shy and didn’t like meeting new people, but meeting these girls—it felt like opening the door to a whole new world for her. She decided to drive to Natron’s place rather than hers. Who knew? Maybe he might wake her up in the middle of the night and they could play Russian Spies…

  Chapter Seven

  Summer had arrived, and with it Carmen had found new success with her paintings. Her portrait of Natron had been accepted in a prestigious show and she traveled to New York for the opening ceremony.

  Upon entering her hotel room, Carmen stopped short; the perfume of roses hung in the air so thick it overpowered her senses. Everywhere she looked was another vase filled with roses, baby’s breath, and eucalyptus; she counted seven bouquets in all. The swath of yellow filled the room with sunshine, even though outside the day was rainy and grey. Carmen didn’t need to read the card to know they were from Natron, but she wanted to read the message anyway. The bouquet on the desk had a large note attached to it.

  Congratulations on your big show! I’m so proud of you, babygirl.

  Now for a game of Hide and Seek. Within one of these bouquets you will find a surprise.

  Find it before the opening and wear it close to your heart, the next best thing to me

  being there.

  Love,

  Natron

  Hmm. Natron frequently played little games with her. Usually they were sex games, but this could be fun too. She moved around the room, inspecting each of the arrangements, the yellow rose petals soft as satin under her fingertips. Where had he hidden it, and what could it be?

  She rolled her luggage into a corner and sat on the queen-sized bed. Her day had started at the crack of dawn in Dallas and would most likely end with her calling for some room service and turning in early.

  The flight to New York had been something out of a dream. Since Natron was at training camp and he’d had to miss her at her first big show, he’d pulled out all the stops and chartered a private plane to take her to the Big Apple. She had been the only passenger aboard and had been treated to a delicious chicken salad sandwich, cheese, fruit, and a bottomless glass of champagne. Any entertainment she’d required had been available to her—movies, Internet, TV shows—but Carmen had used the flight as an opportunity
to catch up on the latest romance novel she’d been reading.

  Natron had arranged a private car to take her to the Plaza, where she checked into her room and was greeted by his latest romantic gesture. Not only had she never seen so many flowers in her life outside a florist’s shop, but she was also impressed he remembered that yellow roses were her favorite flower. She knew it was kinda corny, considering the whole ‘Yellow Rose of Texas’ cliché and all, but she loved them nonetheless.

  She looked through the packet of information from the art show and mapped out her activities for the following day. Tomorrow night was the opening for the National Portrait Society’s Annual Awards, and she would be attending as a prizewinner. With Natron’s blessing, she’d entered his portrait in the competition and was flabbergasted when she won the ‘Stroke of Brilliance’ award in the painting category.

  The festivities would begin with a cocktail party reception at five o’clock at the Guggenheim, followed by a dinner for the winners at Tavern on the Green. She lay back against the plethora of pillows and tried to soak it all in. The whole experience was more than she’d ever dreamed of. The only thing Carmen had ever wanted to do was her art. As far back as she could remember, she had been creating art, from doodles along the margins of her notebook to paintings in art class and countless creations from her markers and crayons at home.

  She’d never exactly planned a career for herself in art, but it was never a question of what she should do with her life either. Art simply was her life. She lived it, breathed it, and she used it to communicate.

  When she was seven years old, something had happened to her on the school bus. She’d come home crying and her mother asked Carmen to tell her what was wrong. Unable to stop crying, Carmen grabbed some paper and managed, “I’ll draw it,” through her tears. Then she proceeded to create an elaborate picture illustrating a bully hitting a little girl in the head. The girl’s wide eyes displayed the terror she must have felt, and the bully’s satisfaction was evidenced by his evil grin. That drawing was only the beginning of Carmen capturing emotions on paper. She was aware she’d been granted a gift and spent most days trying to improve it.

  Lost in her thoughts, Carmen snapped back to the present when something in one of the vases caught her eye. There was something in the vase atop the armoire, something yellow yet too small to be a rose. She climbed off the bed to investigate. Pulling several roses out of the water, she found what she was looking for. Taped around the middle of one of the roses’ stem was a yellow index card. She ripped the tape away and unfurled the message.

  Look in the bottom inside zipper pocket of your luggage.

  Her heart fluttered in her chest as she set up the luggage stand and hoisted her case atop it. She unzipped the red Brighton suitcase, flung open the top, and tossed a sweater and some panties onto the bed, trying to get to the pocket. Inside was a blue jeweler’s box. She opened it and gasped when she found an ivory and onyx cameo with a black velvet cord to tie around her neck. She had seen that very necklace when she had gone shopping with her girlfriends Nellie and Marley for her dress for the opening.

  Nellie must have told Natron how much Carmen had liked it. Enamored of his fame, Nellie was always sucking up to Natron. Nellie had been a well-known beauty queen several years ago and had never quite adjusted to life outside the limelight. Carmen shook her head. Fame meant nothing to her except the occasional inconvenience when the paparazzi followed Natron. She knew famous people were just like anybody else, with hopes, dreams, and problems like everybody else.

  Carmen walked into the bathroom and held up the necklace. It was beautiful against the curve of her neck. She took a selfie with her phone and sent it to Natron with a big thanks and a happy face. She hugged herself, thinking how lucky she was to have a daddy who spoiled her rotten and made her feel so loved and cherished.

  * * *

  The next day Carmen did some sightseeing at the Empire State Building before getting dressed for the opening. When she returned from her outing, she stopped downstairs at the Todd English Food Hall and had lobster hush-puppies for lunch.

  After showering and trying to tame her curly mop, she put on her new, chic black pantsuit and tied the cameo around her neck. The style was very becoming on her and reflected her personality to a tee. She was tempted to take another selfie to send to Natron, but didn’t want to come across vain so she resisted the impulse.

  On the cab ride to the museum, she checked her phone again. Nothing from Natron. She hadn’t heard from him since she’d sent him the thank-you text the day before. An emptiness skittered through her and she took a deep breath as she prepared to face the biggest moment of her career alone.

  Chapter Eight

  Natron closed his locker, high-fived some of the guys, then strolled out to the parking lot. Practice had been a killer today. Coach had really pushed them throughout this training camp and there was a significant amount of pressure for Natron to rise to the occasion. His coaches, his agent, hell, even his mamma were all expecting him to keep up the incredible play that had landed him MVP the previous season.

  The league’s Most Valuable Player award was an honor usually reserved for quarterbacks and running backs. But his 2,000+ yards of receiving had catapulted him over the rest of the field, and in one stellar season he’d become a media darling and the most popular receiver since Jerry Rice.

  For Natron the whole experience had been surreal, especially since he hadn’t grown up wanting to be a football player. The fact that he’d never stepped onto a football field until he was sixteen years old made his story all the more impressive.

  Natron’s first love was basketball. His mother loved to tell how he’d slept with a basketball from the time he was old enough to haul it into the crib with him. Growing up, Natron dribbled his basketball wherever he went, and by the time he was in middle school, his ball-handling skills were out of this world.

  When he got to high school, Natron was the best basketball player in the region, the sport coming easily to him. Though he’d never had to work as hard as the other kids, he was significantly better than they were, thanks to his talent.

  The season of his junior year, a new coach took over the team. The new guy and Natron went round and round over his work ethic, or lack thereof.

  Near the end of football season that fall, his school’s football team lost both of their wide receivers. Desperate for some additional bodies to fill that position, the football coach attempted to recruit some of the basketball players to help them finish out the season. Sick of his coach’s nagging, Natron agreed to play wide receiver for the last three games.

  To everyone’s amazement, Natron caught every ball thrown within ten feet of him. He played both sports that year, but when his senior year rolled around, he realized he needed to make a decision about where to focus his efforts. To be able to attend college, he would need an athletic scholarship and to get one, he needed to choose a sport.

  Playing professional basketball was a possibility, but Natron knew it was a reach for all but the most elite athletes. Football, on the other hand, recruited more players and offered more opportunities for a football player at the professional level. Once he learned to take a hit, Natron found playing the position of wide receiver to be easier than basketball, so ultimately he chose football. He earned a full-ride scholarship to a small Florida college where he received a good education and earned a reputation as one of the best wide receivers in the country.

  On draft day the following year, Natron Dakers was chosen as the Dallas Vipers’ first round pick, the fifth draft pick overall. His mother had wept on national television as he’d signed a multi-million-dollar deal with the Vipers, then packed his bags and moved to Dallas.

  Last season had been his third season with the Vipers and they had gone all the way to the Conference Championship game, where they lost by two points. This year anything short of a trip to the Super Bowl would be considered a failure by management, the players, and most importan
t, the fans.

  The Vipers held their training camp in Orlando, Florida, which was eight hours from Natron’s hometown and five hours from where he’d played college ball. Natron had only been there a week, but to see the throng of fans that showed up every day to see him, one would think the camp was taking place in Natron’s hometown.

  Everywhere he went, reporters stuck a microphone in his face, asking him all kinds of questions—from the inane to the insane. They wanted to know everything about his life, from how he worked out to what he ate, and they particularly wanted to know who he fucked.

  Natron and Carmen had been together for over a year, and for the most part, he shielded her from the spotlight. He’d been trying for months to get her to move in with him, but she always refused, saying she was more comfortable at her place where she could paint whenever the muse called her.

  His grueling work schedule kept them apart a fair amount of time, so it didn’t seem fair to push her to move into his place when he would go on the road for days at a time. So instead of pressing the issue, he started bringing his things over to her place. Occasionally, it struck him funny that with all his millions, he basically lived out of a few drawers in a loft apartment. But then he’d think of Carmen and realize how lucky he was to have found her. He’d do whatever it took to keep her in his life.

  Carmen had everything he wanted in a woman. She was talented, beautiful, kind, and she embraced his kinks in the bedroom. It was such a blessing to have found a little girl he could take care of, one who would submit to his every desire in the bedroom. She gave her body to him unconditionally. They’d developed a trust and a rapport that made him comfortable acting out all his dominant fantasies with her. She trusted him not to hurt her, and he trusted her not to go running to the media with stories of his perversions.

  This weekend she’d flown to Orlando to see him, and he couldn’t wait to spend time with her. Getting into his black Lamborghini Veneno, he donned a pair of sunglasses and drove to Don’s, the fancy seafood restaurant where he’d reserved a private back room so that he and Carmen could eat dinner without it becoming a circus. After working his ass off all week, he needed a babygirl fix and he needed it bad.