City Of Need

5 🖤 Toy

I walk along the hallway of your record company. I can already smell you, even if I didn't know what conference room you were in, I'd still be able to find you. The girl on reception that let me in recognized my frazzled demeanor. Understood it was urgent that I find you and hand you the package personally. We chatted - one receptionist to another. Even though I'm not a receptionist- I'm a criminal, with a criminal family and a criminal overbearing father, who I am desperate to stay away from. But she bought the act and she let me in, directed me to the room where the 'actually very famous' Jack Ramona was having a meeting with the record execs.

Arriving at the meeting room door, I start to doubt my plan. I know it's an important meeting. You're pitching a new sound. A new image. The direction you want the band to go in is to an older audience. It means a lot to you, this meeting. That's why we haven't been able to play all bloody week. That's why I told you last night on the phone, that I'd have a surprise for you once the pitch was done.

I stand on tip toes, looking through the window at the top of the door. I'll just peek in, to get a glimpse of you. Then I'll abandon this plan.

You're in mid-flow, smiling around the room at all the impossible people. This is definitely not a good idea, I should get out of here.

Too late, you see me, gesture for me to come in. The other eleven people in the room look my way. Shit. I'm just going to have to brazen this out.

I open the door, 'Sorry to disturb you, I have a package for you, and it's urgent.'

You look at me, quirking a brow, and say, 'Come in, Roxy. I've just finished my presentation. I can take a look now.'

My eyes go wide, 'Urm, I don't think it's that urgent. I can just leave it with you, and you can open it later.'

'No problem at all, come on in.'

I walk over to you and place the box in your hands.

'Take a seat Roxy. Just in case they need an answer.' You gesture to a seat against the wall, in your eyeline.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I sit in the chair as the meeting resumes around us. I watch as you open the box. Inside is a note with a QR code and phone login details for the remote-control vibrator I'm wearing.

The plan had been to watch you blush as you open it, leave it with you, and for us to play with it after the meeting, when we're both safely in a coffee shop.

You lift your eyes from the box and meet mine, taking your phone from your pocket.

No. No. No. You wouldn't. Would you?

I watch as your thumbs start tapping your phone. I try and gesture to you that I'm leaving, but you smile and say, 'Just hang on a moment, Roxy. I need to check something, and then you can leave.'

Fuck.

You finish tapping the phone, place it on the desk in front of you, and leave your index finger hovering over it.

I know what you're doing. You're deciding between slow, medium and fast.

Please make it slow. Please make it slow.

I feel it stir inside me. It's slow. I press my thighs together, feel a droplet of sweat roll down my back, inside my shirt.

You look at me, a small, sadistic grin, kicks at the corners of your mouth, as you move your finger over the screen.

Fast. Damn. I grip the arms of the chair. What the hell was I thinking? I should have known I'd never get the upper hand with you.

My eyes plead with you, as your finger hovers over the phone, while you watch me. 'Please,' I say silently, making the shape of the word with my mouth. Then as a desperate measure, 'Please, Daddy.'