Page 29 of Make Believe

For once, I don’t feel all over the place. I thought it was normal to be fidgety and emotional after a scene. I’m used to the waves of sadness and shame, accustomed to brushing them off as part of the regular rhythm of sex. I always told myself that I was strong. Other subs might need coddling after scenes, but I didn’t.

Maybe I don’t. However, I can’t deny that this feels really,reallynice.

I swallow the bite of apple and creamy brie cheese, licking my lips as I think that over. So this is just something Rafferty justdoes with everyone he sleeps with? Part of me is dying to ask him, but I’m overpowered by the part of me that would rather not know.

I’m aware I’m being a brat, but I’d rather live in ignorance and believe that I’m somehow special. That he doesn’t spend a typical Saturday afternoon having sex on the couch and a picnic in front of the TV with just anyone.

I’m also not sure I’m ready to admit that this man is simply kind. It’s not an act. He would have slipped up by now, I’m sure. He’s considerate and takes charge in a way that puts my needs first, not his own.

I mean, yes—he gave that whole speech about me being here purely to be fucked by him whenever and however he wants. He’s definitely living up to that promise. But at the same time, he somehow makes me feel like it’s all about me. That I’m his priority. That I really am special.

Despite my earlier train of thought, I’m not sure I can cope with that level of attention. I don’t want anyone caring about me.

That means they’ll have power over me.

“What are you thinking about, pretty doll?” Rafferty asks me, pulling me from my reverie.

I blink and look up at him. I realize I’ve zoned out and missed at least ten minutes of the movie. That doesn’t matter, but I don’t want him knowing that’s where my mind was at. I’m already giving so much of my power away to him.

“Just pretty doll thoughts, Daddy,” I assure him, snuggling closer to his side.

He scoffs and kisses my forehead. I’m not sure he’s totally convinced, but he doesn’t ask anything further, so that’s all that really matters.

It’s not until I go to the bathroom a little while later that I realize I forgot to check my make-up. Sure enough, it’s a little smudged. Nothing comically bad, but by no means perfect. I feela rush of panic and shame as I hastily try to fix it with my fingers, but then I slowly let my hands drop. Rafferty certainly didn’t care all evening. Why should it matter now?

Besides, it’s getting close to bedtime, and I’m not going to sleep with all this on. Now that I’m paying attention to it again, my eyes feel crusty enough after that nap earlier.

So I slip away to my bedroom to remove all the products before applying night serums and moisturizers. I get into my nightgown with the matching silk robe and find the fluffy slippers he also bought for me. Then I pad downstairs once more. I’m curious yet again about the rest of the house, but I respect that he doesn’t want me poking around in his private rooms.

I’m not sure how much longer he wants to stay up or what else he wants to do. That’s up to him. It is our last night together, after all. But at least now whenever he decides it’s time to go to bed, I’m comfortable and ready for sleep.

Still pretty, though. Obviously.

“Hello, gorgeous,” he says as I come back to the sofa, opening his arms for me, and his eyes trail over my new outfit. Pleased that he’s evidently still impressed, I cuddle up next to him, pressing a sweet kiss to his cheek.

“Hello, Daddy.”

For a few seconds, he studies my face, his eyes lingering on my lips. Not for the first time I wonder if he’s going to kiss me there. I haven’t explicitly said he can’t, but he seems to inherently know he shouldn’t. However, for just a moment I wonder if I actually want him to.

No. That would be crossing a line, and I think we both know it, because he taps my nose with his index finger, smiling and breaking the spell of the moment.

“Beautiful.”

We finish watching this second movie, and I try not to yawn but fail. Rafferty chuckles at me.

“I think that’s our cue to head to bed. Come on. I’ll clear all this in the morning.”

I want to protest about being wasteful, but looking down at the coffee table, it turns out that we’ve eaten almost all of the perishable food. I guess it really won’t hurt to leave the mess for now. And if that’s what Daddy wants to do, that’s what we’ll do.

He places his hand on the small of my back in the way that I’m growing to love. As we head upstairs, he flicks off the light switches and sets the alarm. It feels cozy like I’ve never experienced with anyone else before. Like we’re tucking the house into bed.

When we reach my room, he drags me down onto the mattress with hunger in his eyes, soon pulling himself free and pushing inside me once again. But this time I don’t fall into doll mode. I look into his eyes as he fucks me slowly and tenderly, drawing the experience out until we both come, clinging to each other as we grunt and cry out.

He showers my body, careful not to wet my face with all my nighttime products already applied, nor my hair, so we don’t need to dry it. Then he puts my nightie back on and tucks me in. Luckily, we contained our mess, so there’s no need to change the sheets.

In the dim light, he looks down at me for several moments as he caresses the side of my cheek. I bite my lip, not sure what he’s thinking. Just as I’m about to say “Daddy?” he smiles and leans down to press his lips to my forehead.

“Good night, my beautiful doll.”

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