Page 31 of Daddy's Reluctant Queen

11

SOFIA

It’s getting easier.

The thought occurred to me when I woke up this morning after another all-night sprint with Titus. For an older man, he sure has a lot of fucking energy. Sometimes, I think that if I weren’t so exhausted after the fourth or fifth go around, he’d be perfectly fine with asking me for a sixth or seventh.

But it’s getting easier and I think that’s by design. The more obedient I am, the easier he is on me… not that I necessarily want it that way all the time. There’s something about the sting of the occasional riding crop on my pussy or my ass that’s admittedly pretty nice.

Good sex or not, however, these past couple of weeks, I’ve had some time to think about my situation. No matter how hard I come, he’s still under the impression that this is punishment, and in some ways, I guess it is. But it’s also a chance for me to get close enough to do the thing I came here to do in the first place.

I keep thinking about that first night when I offered to give him a blow job and he said something about it coming down totrusting me not to bite it off. If he’s expecting to trust me to a certain extent, then that means he’ll eventually leave his guard down… and I think after who knows how many days I’ve been in captivity, I might be nearing that point.

After showering and getting dressed, I decided to sit by the window and watch for signs of him leaving. I’ve been sitting here since breakfast came. Incidentally, ever since I complained about the McBreakfast my first morning here, he decided to hire somebody to do the cooking and the food has gotten substantially better. I actually ate eggs Benedict this morning while I’ve been sitting here. Points to him for listening to me.

But dinners have been… interesting. Every night, I wear something from the collection of fancy dresses in my closet. I’ve noticed the slinkier they are or the more low cut they are, the rougher he is on me in bed, like he doesn’t want me looking like a slut, even in private. I’ve been careful to meter those dresses out so it looks more accidental instead of open defiance. I can’t exactly ask for it around here, although I have been wondering lately what he would do if I did start asking for him to be a little rough on me.

Last night was a defiance night and I was full of piss and vinegar with him—constantly questioning him and speaking up when I wasn’t supposed to. I don’t know what got into me, but I just had the urge for him to push the limits on me. He didn’t disappoint. My ass is still stinging from the spanking I got, and it was slow walking to the bathroom this morning from my sore pussy. He fucked me raw with that monster cock of his for at least an hour straight last night.

Still… I wonder what he would do if I gave him a fight. If I pushed, kicked, or hit him? Would that turn him off or make him hotter for me?

I push away the thought. I shouldn’t be thinking of ways to turn him on. I should be focusing on today’s task. This whole thing has been a lot of fun, but after two weeks, it’s time for me to get back on the clock. I need to avenge my father. Now that he thinks he knows me well enough, I imagine I might be able to catch him off guard the next time he comes to my room.

I just need a weapon. This room has everything that I could possibly need to be comfortable, but not a whole lot in the way of improvised weapons. I’ll have to get to the kitchen for a sharp knife or something if I’m going to carry out this plan of attack.

It’s a beautiful day today. The sun is hanging well above the tree line, but the sky is so blue it’s almost like a person could swim in it. It feels like I haven’t been outside in years. I miss feeling the warm summer wind on my face… especially in the mornings. Too bad these windows don’t open. I miss the smell of fresh-cut grass and flowers.

I miss my home. That’s kind of the crux of it. I miss waking up in my own bed, in my own home. I miss having breakfast with Papa and Adam. I even miss my mother who’s been dead since I was sixteen. I miss everything.

When I’m finally free of all this, I’ll have to start over somewhere new. Hopefully, I’ll find Adam and we can start fresh together.

There’s a soft, familiar rumble just under my feet. The front door somewhere downstairs opening and closing. The sound echoes against the window. I perk up as he appears, walking down the front steps and toward one of the parked cars in the large driveway.

Here’s my chance. I watch as the car drives away, waiting for it to be out of sight… then I move.

The locks have been changed since the first time I got out. Unfortunately for Titus, I’ve learned how to pick all manner of locks. There are very few I can’t get past… well, safes are trickiest. If he decided to put a combination lock on this door, then I’ll probably be fucked.

I get my handy safety pin and get to work. It takes me a little longer to get the door open this time, at least a few more minutes. When the door finally clicks, I take a deep breath and open it slowly.

He’s got staff now. I know that much. People in the kitchen, somebody cleaning the house. I’m not sure what times they’re all here or if they have quarters somewhere on the property, but I know that right now, some three hours before noon, no one is upstairs and probably isn’t planning to be.

With the staff possibly in the kitchen, getting a knife is going to be tough. I can’t pass it up, however. I have to at least check it out. If there’s somebody there, then I’ll have to look elsewhere for a weapon. I’m barefoot right now, wearing a simple pair of yoga pants and a tank top, keeping my movements soft as I move down this hallway and into the main one. I get to the staircase pretty quickly and I have to pause.

Oh… that’s interesting.

Luka is in the living room. He’s peering around the staircase, looking for somebody. I know he’s not supposed to be out of his room any more than me. Little crafty thing’s snuck out.

I hunker down against the railing and whisper out aPsst!

He jumps and looks around.

“Up here.”

He looks up the stairs and we make eye contact. He smiles softly, then waves.

“What are you doing?” I ask him.

“I want some candy,” he says. “But it’s in the kitchen and I think there’s somebody in there.”