Tales of a Sugar Daddy

The dim glow of amber light bathed the spa in warmth, flickering against the polished mahogany shelves lined with an array of carefully selected essential oils. Sandalwood, jasmine, and a hint of vanilla—an intoxicating blend designed to disarm, to soothe, to entice. Caspian Frost moved with the precision of a man who found pleasure in control. Everything had to be perfect. He adjusted the massage table, ensuring the sheets were fresh, smooth, and warm to the touch. A single glass of whiskey, neat, rested on the counter beside him, untouched. The scent of expensive cologne mingled with the room’s inviting aroma, subtle but unmistakably masculine. He took a slow breath, letting the moment settle over him. Anticipation. That was his favorite part. The moment before indulgence. The delicate balance of uncertainty and control. The knowledge that soon, a woman would walk through that door, vulnerable, willing—his to guide. Caspian’s fingers grazed over a small bottle of warm oil, his touch light, deliberate. It wasn’t just about the act—it was the ritual. The precise way he prepared, the careful curation of atmosphere, the silent assertion of power before a single touch was exchanged. A soft yet commanding chime sounded through the room, signaling the arrival of his guest. Caspian turned toward the door just as it opened. Astra stepped inside, tentative, her delicate fingers curling around the silk sash of her robe. She was beautiful in a quiet way—soft brown curls framing her youthful face, wide eyes betraying a mix of curiosity and uncertainty. She hesitated, shifting on her feet, her posture betraying nerves despite the sensual silk draping her form. Caspian took in every detail. The shallow rise and fall of her chest. The way her tongue darted out to wet her lips. The unsteady rhythm of her breathing. New. Unsure. And yet, she had come. That, more than anything, was what thrilled him the most. “Good evening, Astra,” Caspian said smoothly, his voice calm, low—measured. She swallowed hard, offering a small nod. “Good evening, sir.” Sir. Caspian smiled. She was already learning. “Come in,” he gestured, stepping forward with effortless grace. “You don’t need to be nervous.” She exhaled softly, as if willing herself to believe him. His gaze didn’t waver as he extended a hand. Astra hesitated for the briefest moment before placing her fingers in his. Warm. Slightly trembling. A blank canvas. He brought her forward, guiding her deeper into his carefully crafted world. The silk sash slipped from Astra’s fingers, the robe parting just enough to reveal skin as smooth as a whispered secret. She hesitated, as if caught in the space between fear and desire, her breath shallow, her body taut. Caspian said nothing. He merely watched, his expression unreadable, his gaze unwavering. There was no need to rush. Astra’s fingers curled at her sides before she gathered the courage to push the robe off her shoulders. The delicate fabric slid down, pooling at her feet, leaving her standing bare beneath his scrutiny. A flicker of vulnerability crossed her features, a moment of hesitation. Caspian’s lips curved, just slightly. “Good,” he murmured, stepping closer, his presence consuming the space between them. Her breath hitched when his fingers brushed the side of her arm—just a ghost of a touch, deliberate in its restraint. “Lie down.” She obeyed, climbing onto the massage table, her movements careful, uncertain. As she rested her cheek against the plush surface, her back arched slightly, muscles tense beneath flawless skin. Caspian reached for the small bottle of oil, rolling it between his palms to warm it before allowing the first drop to trickle onto her bare spine. Astra gasped softly. His hands followed, slow and practiced, spreading the warmth across her shoulders, gliding down her back in deep, measured strokes. His touch was neither rushed nor forceful, yet there was no mistaking the quiet dominance behind each movement. The tension in her frame resisted at first, as if her body fought against surrender. But Caspian was patient. He kneaded gently at the knots along her shoulders, his fingertips pressing just hard enough to coax her muscles into softening beneath him. Astra let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. The tension in her shoulders, a constant companion since her first day at the university, seemed to melt under Caspian’s skilled touch. “Relax,” he instructed, his voice a smooth, hypnotic whisper that seemed to wrap around her like the warm air of the dimly lit room. The scent of sandalwood and jasmine hung heavy, enveloping her in a haze of sensuality. Caspian’s hands were strong yet tender, his fingers kneading the knots in her muscles with a practiced ease that spoke of years of experience. She felt her body soften, her eyelids growing heavy as she surrendered to his control. Caspian was a man of mystery, a retired surgeon who now ran an illegal massage parlor hidden behind the facade of a quaint bookstore. His life was a tapestry of secrets, woven with threads of wealth, power, and a past he rarely spoke of. He was her sugar daddy, a term Astra still struggled to say aloud, but one that felt right in the context of their arrangement. He was going to provide for her—tuition, rent, even the occasional luxury—and in return, she had to come to him, not just for the massages, but for something deeper, something she was only beginning to understand. “Turn over,” he ordered, his tone leaving no room for hesitation. Astra obeyed, her cheeks flushing as she flipped onto her back, the thin sheet barely covering her. The room was lit by the soft glow of candles, their flickering light casting shadows on the walls that danced like silent observers. His gaze, sharp and piercing, scanned her body, making her squirm under the weight of his attention. She was young, barely twenty, and her body was a canvas of innocence and desire, a contradiction that seemed to fascinate him. “You’re still holding back,” he murmured, leaning closer, his breath tickling her ear. His presence was overwhelming, a force that demanded her submission. “I want you to let go. For me.” His words were a command, but there was a gentleness in them, a promise of safety that made her heart race. His hands moved down her body, slow and deliberate, tracing the curve of her waist, the swell of her hips. Astra bit her lip, her breath quickening as his fingers brushed the edge of the sheet. She felt exposed, vulnerable, yet there was a thrill in that vulnerability, a surrender she had never experienced before. “Lift your hips,” he commanded, his voice low and commanding. She did, her heart pounding as he slid the sheet away, leaving her completely bare. His eyes darkened with approval, and a smirk played on his lips. “Such a pretty thing,” he whispered, his fingers trailing down her thigh, teasingly close but not touching where she ached the most. “But you’re mine to play with, aren’t you?” Astra nodded, her voice too small to speak. “Yes,” she breathed, her body trembling with anticipation. She was his, and the admission filled her with a mix of fear and exhilaration. Caspian’s hand cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing her lips. “Say it again,” he demanded, his grip firm. “Say you’re mine.” “I’m yours,” she whispered, her eyes locked on his, pleading and submissive. There was a depth to her words, a truth that went beyond the physical. She was his in a way she couldn’t yet fully comprehend, but she knew it was more than just the arrangement they had. He leaned down, his lips brushing hers in a kiss that was both gentle and possessive. “Good girl,” he murmured, pulling back slightly. His approval was a reward, a validation that made her feel cherished. “Now spread your legs for me.” Astra’s cheeks burned as she obeyed, her thighs parting to give him full access. Her body was a map of sensitivity, and his touch was the key to unlocking it. His fingers traced the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, slow and deliberate, before slipping between her folds. She gasped, arching her back as he teased her, his touch both cruel and kind. “So wet,” he growled, his voice thick with satisfaction. “You like being touched, don’t you? Like being mine?” “Yes,” she moaned, her head falling back into the pillow. “Please…” Caspian chuckled, a dark, dominant sound, as he pressed a finger inside her, slow and deep. “Please what?” he taunted, his thumb circling her c**t in rhythm with his finger. “Tell me what you want, Astra.” “I want… I want you,” she panted, her body quivering on the edge. Her desire was raw, unfiltered, and she felt no shame in admitting it. “Not yet,” he said, pulling his hand away, leaving her gasping and needy. The sudden absence of his touch was a torment, a reminder of his control. “First, you’re going to take my cock.” He stood, shedding his robe, and Astra’s eyes widened as he revealed himself. His body was lean and powerful, marked with the confidence of a man who knew his worth. His erection was thick and demanding, a testament to his desire for her. “On your knees,” he ordered, his voice brooking no argument. Astra scrambled to comply, her hands trembling as she knelt before him. He gripped her hair, pulling her head back slightly, his eyes burning into hers. “Suck it,” he commanded, thrusting his c**k into her mouth. Astra moaned around him, her lips wrapping tightly as she took him deep, her tongue swirling in obedience. He groaned, his hands tightening in her hair as he guided her, f*****g her mouth with slow, deliberate strokes. “That’s it,” he growled. “Take it all. Show me how much you want it.” She gagged slightly, her eyes watering, but she didn’t stop, her devotion absolute. Caspian’s breath hitched as he pulled back, his c**k glistening with her saliva. “Enough,” he said, pushing her back onto the table. “Time to feel me inside you.” He positioned himself between her legs, his eyes locked on hers as he entered her, slow and relentless. Astra cried out, her nails digging into his shoulders as he filled her completely. “You’re so tight,” he rasped, his voice hoarse with need. “So f*****g perfect.” He began to move, his thrusts steady and commanding, each one driving her closer to the edge. “Look at me,” he demanded, his voice sharp. “Look at me while I f**k you.” Astra’s eyes met his, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she felt her orgasm building, coiled and tight. “Come for me,” he growled, his pace quickening, his hands gripping her hips brutally. “Let go, Astra. Let me feel you fall apart.” Her body shattered, her cries echoing in the small room as she climaxed, her walls clenching around him. Caspian followed, his groan deep and primal as he spilled himself inside her, his body trembling with the force of his release. For a moment, they were still, their breaths intertwining, their hearts pounding in unison. Caspian pulled out, his touch gentle as he brushed her hair from her face. “Good girl,” he murmured, his voice soft now, almost tender. “You did so well.” Astra smiled, her body still buzzing with the aftermath, her submission complete. She was his, wholly and utterly, and in that moment, she wouldn’t have had it any other way.