Daddy's Game (7 page)

Once she got to their row, she had to push past several people to get to the empty seat next to Carmen. Just as she plopped down into it, flashbulbs went off. A couple of paparazzi had followed her into the coliseum and were standing just a few rows down, trying to get her picture.

Charmaine stood up and shot them her middle finger. “Screw you, hey, let these people enjoy their rodeo!” she yelled at them and sat back down. Reluctantly the men lowered their cameras and slinked away.

While Charmaine’s reputation as a diva preceded her, Carmen was glad to find Charmaine was just as interesting as advertised. “Hi, I’m Carmen,” Carmen said and held out her hand.

Charmaine took it and gave it a good shake. “Hi, Carmen. Natron’s girl, right?”

Carmen nodded.

“I’m Charmaine,” she said and waved to the other girls seated on Carmen’s other side.

“I know who you are,” Carmen said, feeling her cheeks warm.

“It’s about time you showed up,” Sloane griped.

“That old saw again? You should really find something more original to bitch about, Sloane,” Charmaine said.

“I told her you were on island time,” Lucinda said.

“What does that even mean?” Sloane asked.

“It’s like when you go on vacation to the islands and nobody keeps track of time. It’s all laid back, nobody rushes. Island time,” Lucinda explained.

Charmaine sat back and crossed her legs. “Yeah, island time. You should really listen to Lucy Lu over there. Has the beer guy come by?”

Sloane let loose an exasperated sigh and Kimberly patted her arm while Lucinda signaled a beer vendor from a few sections over. They all ordered a large beer, except Charmaine who purchased the huge one that came in the container they called ‘yard.’

“You’re gonna get so hammered,” Sloane complained.

“That’s the plan,” Charmaine shrugged, then added, “I have a driver.”

The girls sipped their beers as they watched the spectacle unfold in front of them. The biggest, baddest bulls on the rodeo circuit were competing tonight and tomorrow night. The bull riders competed as well. The anticipation in the coliseum was palpable with each new rider, especially in those last moments when the rider tightened his grip on the ropes just before the gate swung open and the bull exploded out of the chute.

The bulls bucked like mad, throwing the riders around like ragdolls. Carmen loved seeing all the differences in the bulls; some were red, some black, and some spotted. Some had horns, some had no horns to speak of or horns that had been filed down, and it interested her that you couldn’t tell by looking at the bull how fierce he would be or how difficult a ride he would give his rider.

According to the announcer, the baddest bull of the night was Stranger Danger. The announcer stated that Stranger Danger had only been ridden twice during his entire five-year career. Carmen gulped, glad to see his rider tonight wore a protective helmet.

“I wish they wouldn’t wear those helmets. The guys who wear the cowboy hats are much hotter,” Charmaine said, taking a slug of her beer.

“That’s just stupid, Charmaine, that’s like saying guys in motorcycle helmets aren’t as hot—so ignorant,” Sloane chided.

“I think this cowboy made a smart move, wearing it with this bull,” Carmen said.

Charmaine shrugged.

The chute opened and Stranger Danger bolted out of the chute. The 1,500-pound red bull flew through the air; as he bucked, he moved more vertically than forward. First his head was in the air, horns slashing, then fast as lightning his tail launched into the air, and he was quick, like a fish flopping out of water. But a fish flopped frantically without purpose; not Stranger Danger. He knew what he was doing, you could almost see the calculations as he whirled around doing a 360-degree turn in mid-air, rearing up on his back legs, then hurling himself into the air again, kicking up a cloud of dirt behind him.

After two seconds, the bull tossed the rider into the air. The poor fellow landed on his rear end only a couple of feet away from the still-kicking bull. The rodeo clowns approached Stranger Danger waving their long, colorful scarves in his face while the bull rider hopped up and climbed over the wall to safety. The consummate professional, Stranger Danger ignored the rodeo clowns, turned and trotted through the open path back to the holding pens.

“Did you see the balls on that animal?” Charmaine whispered, nudging Carmen. She looked to see that they were enormous, and stifled a giggle. Leave it to Charmaine to point that out.

The next rider came out wearing a cowboy hat, reddish-tan chaps, and a blue shirt that showed his muscular physique underneath. “Now that’s more like it,” Charmaine said.

“Have you ever dated a bull rider?” Carmen asked her.

Charmaine nodded. “They work out too much. If they’re any good, they don’t have time for fun. Hot to look at though.”

The handsome rider in the blue shirt was one of the few to stay aboard the bull for eight seconds and wound up with the highest score of the evening.

After the rodeo, the girls headed over to Billy Bob’s for some barbecue. They sat around a table eating ribs, drinking beer, and telling stories.

“So how did you and Natron meet?” Charmaine asked.

Carmen told the girls the story of meeting Natron at her art opening and then painting his portrait.

“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.