Sugar Daddy

By: Sawyer Bennett



“Come on. Up you go. Time to get you home.”

A hand grips me at my upper arm and pulls me from the bed. My head spins and bile rises in my throat. I’m dizzy and hurt everywhere.

“Hey now,” he chides me. “You forgot to button your jeans.”

I look down through blurry eyes and watch in a daze as his hands work at my zipper, pulling it up and then fastening the button. I sway back and forth, my legs feeling like they’re filled with Jell-O.

“There now. You’re all presentable,” he says with a dark laugh, and his hand is back on my arm. He guides me down a long hallway. I stumble twice, but he hauls me back up, his fingers digging into my flesh painfully. He leads me to a large, curved staircase and my right hand goes out to hold on to the wrought-iron banister. I stare in odd fascination at the dark ring of bruises around my wrist, which causes me to miss the first step and I almost go down.

“Easy now,” he says in a gentle voice as he uses his grip on my arm to catch me. “Don’t want you falling down these stairs and breaking your neck now, do we?”

A surge of fear wells up inside of me and I drop my eyes to my feet, watching as he carefully escorts me down the staircase. Blaring music, the chatter of maybe a hundred voices and people laughing.

Party noise.

My head is so heavy that it’s a monumental effort to lift it when we reach the bottom, and my heels practically slide out from underneath me when they hit the slick marble tile of the grand foyer. I remember thinking it was so pretty when I first walked in.

“JT…man, she is a mess,” someone says…a man. I recognize his voice. I call on every muscle in my neck to cooperate and raise my head, swiveling it to the left.

Ice-cold, pale blue eyes laugh at me. Thin blond hair so colorless it’s almost white. Skin almost as ghostlike.


He’s smirking at me. A knowing look.

“Oh, fuck, she feels good,” he moans as he slams in and out of me. I try to push him off me but I can’t move my arms. I lift my head, first connecting my gaze with pale, evil blue eyes as they squint in grotesque pleasure, and then tilt my head backward. Someone…can’t really see him…holding my wrists down.

I shake my head, trying to clear it of the horror.

“Let me dump her in a cab and then she won’t be our mess anymore,” the guy holding my arm says. I force my head to turn his way, my vision still going in and out of focus.

He’s tall.

Really tall. Dark blond hair.

That’s all I get.

My tongue feels so thick and I’m not sure my words come out right. “Who are you?”

“Baby,” he says with what I think is a grin. A gray haze clouds my eyes and I see what I think are a row of sparkling teeth flashing at me. “I just made all your fantasies come true. Don’t you remember?”

The guy with the pale eyes laughs hysterically, but I can’t muster up the energy to look back at him. My head drops and I stare at the white and black diamond tiles and the tips of my red heels.

More pressure on my arm and I’m guided across the foyer. The music is so loud it hurts my ears and the laughter…is everyone laughing at me? Even though I’m not sure, I feel my cheeks burning with embarrassment.

“Allow me to get the door,” a deep voice says, and I struggle to lift my gaze…narrow my eyelids to focus, and see someone reaching for a heavy, black iron door with a scroll design over frosted glass. On his wrist…that tattoo.

“Think she’ll suck my dick?” Tan hands work at a belt buckle, slips the leather free, and pops the top button. A red bird on the inside of his wrist.

Pain shoots through my scalp as someone grabs my hair. I can feel a deep-seated scream start to push up from my throat, but it’s so dry, it never makes it out.

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