ELLA
Team members of The Firm will work closely together to provide a consistent and reliable care experience.
“If you brought donuts, I’m going to guess it went well?” The early morning light is still painted with a mauve hue as the sliding back door closes. Kam wears his million-dollar smile, as I used to call it, just as well as his custom-tailored gray blazer with designer jeans. “By the way, you look hot,” I add and bring the mug of tea to my lips.
“I would sayit went exceptionally well.” With his statement, Kamden offers me the pink box of sweets.
Setting down the cup, my smile grows. “Tell me they had the double glazed?”
He speaks as I lift the top, eyeing a half dozen chocolate donuts and inhaling the fresh, sugary scent. It’s heaven.
“You know it, my love,” he says, then hums and drags out the chair to the left of me, scooting it closer and taking a seat. The extension off of the kitchen boasts large windows. Damon suggested I have my morning tea here to soak up more sun since the weather has turned bitterly cold this week.
Slipping off his sunglasses and folding them, Kamden comments, “I’m surprised you’re up this early.”
“Couldn’t sleep,” I answer without thinking. It’s the truth that sleep evaded me, but it’s because Zander left my mind reeling last night. My nap went longer than I’d have liked and by the time I woke up, he had a list of tasks for me. Starting with me writing down every desire I had for him and reading them off to him one by one after leaving my panties elsewhere. He had me lay the throw blanket across my knees, and then spread my legs. It offered him a view to say the least, but all the cameras would see is me reading from my diary and Zander sitting calmly, asking questions for me to detail more of my goals, desires and fantasies.
He didn’t touch me once. Not a single time last night. Instead, after hours, he left me with the task to think beyond what I’d written and focus on what would please him most. Once I write that down, he said I could pick whichever fantasy I wanted.
What would please him most? If I confided in him about what happened. I’m almost certain that’s what he wants from me.
The disappointment still lingers I pluck a chunk of the sugary chocolate sweet and pop it into my mouth.
Kam’s tone is serious when he asks, “Do you want to talk about it? I can get you stronger sleeping pills, or get the doctor over here to discuss the current medication.” As he leans forward without a trace of his humor, the bags under his blue eyes are clear as the morning sun.
“No,” I answer with just as much surprise as kindness. “No, no.” I wipe my hand on a cloth napkin and shake my head. “It’s umm, the medication is working well I think and that’s what Damon tells me. It was just a long night really.”
My attempt to ease his worries doesn’t appear to sink in.
“You’ll tell me if you do need anything, right?” he questions and his gaze slips to the old brick of a phone that’s capable of making calls, but doesn’t have any function for apps. I text him and only him really on it, although I have a small handful of friends I trust whose contact information is on it as well.
“Of course I would. You know if I want to annoy anyone with my bullshit, it will be you,” I joke.
He snorts, seeming to relax and leans back in the chair. “It’s not annoying and it’s not bullshit, but yes,” he says and smirks, “I do know how you love to torture me.”
I mirror his relaxed posture and ignore my exhaustion as I say, “So, the posts went well.”
With his left hand tapping his sunglasses on the table, Kam nods. “Both went well.” He emphasizes the first word and it doesn’t make much sense at all that I should feel emotional about it. About the knowledge that he did post about the “ball in a box” analogy.
“Was it helpful?” I question, the mug in my hand halting midway as I wait for his answer.
His nod is enthusiastic. “So many people could relate,” he tells me and then adds, “There are some comments with other suggestions as well, but I wanted to run them by Damon before showing you.” His smile dims slightly, but he holds it in place. “Just to make sure I’m not telling you something or spreading something that could be—”
I cut off his explanation with a wave of my hand through the air. “I get it. You want to make sure it’s helpful before I go believing someone off the internet.”
His smile turns tight and his gaze drops.
“I should call you Daddy Kam.”
“Oh,” he says as his brow raises and his voice is playful, “don’t tease me.” His joke is followed with, “Besides, according to your other post, you’ve already got a Daddy.”
He holds his phone out for me to see.
It takes me a moment to register what I’m seeing. The photo is one that I remember telling Kam I loved. The sight of the floral dress brings back the memories of it being flipped over my waist while Zander finger fucked me. The rumble of his words, do not test my control, nearly has me shivering in my seat.
Focusing on the rest of the photo is much easier.
My caption reads: I am trying. I am working through it. And I am sending love to all who are working through whatever has stolen their smile.