by Writing Shark
What women want, what you can put up with
It’s slowly dawning on you that it might not have been such a marvelous idea to go shopping with Danika. Because you may be her owner, but that doesn’t seem to give the lucky girl any reason not to chase you through every clothing store in town like a jockey his horse.
“I just can’t decide,” she murmurs, holding up two dresses. “What do you think, Kyle? The black one or the gray one?” You look up from your cell phone and look at the two pieces.
“The black one,” you say, imagining how the dress will hug her bottom.
“I think I’d better try the gray one,” Danika hums, and disappears back into the dressing room, leaving you with the black dress.
“But I thought… fuck.” By now you’ve learned that it doesn’t matter how much power and money you have. Whether a slave or a queen, women are always the same when it comes to shopping. Shaking your head, you let your eyes slide to the curtain that separates Danika and you, but does not hide her feet in the white short socks. As you watch her feet move, sometimes standing on tiptoe, or one foot on the floor, the other bent, spinning around while she looks at herself in the mirrors in the cabin, you hear her happy giggle and hum while Danika enjoys her life.
“Kyle?” she asks, sticking her head through the curtain. “Can you please pass me the navy blue dress?”
“Danika…” you just grumble.
“And the white skirt? Thanks, Daddy.” And you get up, grumpy, but with an almost patient smile on your lips. This day can belong to Danika, after all, she will spend the night under your supervision on the streets of this city. Grumbling, you hand her the clothes and receive a kiss on the cheek as thanks… and the gray dress pressed into your arms. Your hand quickly reaches through the curtain and grabs Dnaika by the arm. “Daddy, no!” she complains with a blush as you pull her upper body through the curtain into the open air. The expensive shop is busy but hardly anyone pays you any attention, but somehow Danika, the hooker, is more embarrassed to be seen half naked here than completely naked on the street.
“Don’t forget that you belong to me, whore,” you say, but you just manage to give your voice the necessary gravitas. Her eyes are fixed on your face.
“I know, Daddy,” she says quietly. “I’m sorry. You make me so happy, okay? I’m sorry. I will behave, okay?” You stare at her for a moment, then let her go and look around.
“You can make it up right here,” you whisper as you squeeze into the booth with her. Then all you can hear is her giggling as you grab her, she wraps her legs around you and unbuttons your pants.
“The gray one,” you finally decide. “I’m your owner.”
“And you know what’s good for me, Daddy,” smiles Danika and pushes her hair back as she stuffs the gray dress into the shopping bag. You look at her and watch as she puts her clothes back in order.
“And which one too?” you finally ask. Danika looks at you questioningly, you nod and she kisses you on the mouth, in the middle of the shop, for a long time.
“The navy blue one, Daddy?” You nod, it’s not about the money.
“You’ll earn me an extra two hundred for that today, got it?” you admonish her and she nods eagerly as she hangs on your arm like an expensive piece of jewelry and you lead her to the cash register.
“I’ll be a good girl for you, Daddy,” she says, smiling broadly as you pull out your credit card, ignoring the telling looks of the cashier.
“This way,” you say a short time later. There are more shops on the agenda. Shoes, make-up and so many other things that make it easier for men to fuck pretty women. You only understand this to a limited extent, it’s easy to fuck pretty women without all the hassle. But Hannah is exactly the same in this respect, maybe it’s her genes. You’ll deal with the matter later, probably. For now, you’re hungry, so you lead Danika by the hand to a fast food restaurant in a mall.
“Sir?” You had already wondered if Danika had forgotten your agreement, but it seems that she addresses you by your title as long as there are other people around you. “Can I ask you something?” You nod at her as you choose a burger. “Why are we here?”
“Because I’m hungry,” you shrug and wave the waitress over. “And even if you don’t realize it, you have to eat something too.”
“Yes… thank you,” the girl nods. “But…”
“Why in this restaurant and not something fancy?” She nods.
“I thought you were rich.”
“I am. And that’s why I don’t want to eat in the same boring shitty places I always eat in. I don’t really miss my old world,” you grin and lean across the table towards her. “I want it dirty and rustic.” She giggles too, but then continues to pay attention to you while you speak. With Hannah it’s always a gamble whether she can listen to you for long, but Danika knows where she belongs, even when she goes crazy while shopping. “And I want to get to know you better.” But that throws her off balance.
“Me?” she asks, astonished. “What do you want to know?” You shrug your shoulders.
“I just want to get to know my whore. Is that so bad?” Her hair moves as she shakes her head
“No… It’s just… I don’t know if I’m interesting for a man like you. I’m not rich and I haven’t experienced much since I moved here.” She looks at you apologetically. “Let’s talk about you instead, Sir. You’re important. I’m not.”
“But that’s up to me, Danika,” you admonish her. “Remember what we agreed.”
“You decide, Sir,” she murmurs and looks away, only to look at you again. “What do you want to know?”
“You already said something interesting,” you cheer her up. “Why did you move here? And what about your family?”
After an hour you understand why Danika didn’t want to talk about her life and it has nothing to do with boredom. You shouldn’t be surprised, after all she prostitutes herself for money, first for Slatko, now for you.
Danika’s story reads like a novel that you don’t have the courage or the mental strength to read.
Child of poor parents. Father killed as a soldier in Chechnya. Mother alone. Danika came to the USA to provide for her family and that’s what she does. She came across Slatko when she couldn’t find a job. And then you came. You didn’t ask for more details, you want to spare both of you this torture.
And then you surprise yourself when you stretch out your hand and put it on Danika’s. Of course she flinches at first, as she is talking about her bad experiences. And you refrain from admonishing her and reminding her of her status. You leave your hand where it is… And Danika takes it of her own free will. Then she smiles at you, weakly but firmly, and you return the gesture.
“Was there anything good about that time?” And Danika has an immediate answer.
“You, Sir,” she says, but you look at her sternly. “No, really. You are something good that happened to me. My mother…” But you raise your hand and Dnaika understands “Before… Before Slatko… I wanted to go to school and… I wasn’t smart enough. But…” You wait patiently and Danika gratefully accepts your patience. “I had a friend back then. Elenor.”
Writing Shark 