Page 46 of Stabby Little

"I didn't care what anyone said." Grant heaves me into his arms and marches out of the dark musty room. "They told me you'd vanished long ago. I told them to go fuck themselves and continued searching. I knew I'd find you, sweet boy."

My insides turn warm and fuzzy. "You're my rescuer, Grant. This is everything I've wanted."

Grant dusts my head with a kiss. "You're a good, good boy, Ollie. You've been through so much, but you're safe now. I'm taking you to my house to make you a mug of hot chocolate. I'll put extra fluffy marshmallows in it like I did when you were little. I have a onesie that'll fit you. We can watch movies next to the fireplace."

I take Grant's hand and bring it between my legs. "You're making me happy."

My fantasy changes settings. Suddenly, I'm sitting on the countertop where Grant patched up my knee long ago.

"Ouchie, Daddy." My voice is so soft as I gesture to my scrape. "Kiss it and make it better."

Grant rubs ointment on my knee and drags his eyes up to mine. "Don't worry about it, boy. Daddy will patch it up."

My dick turns into a rod. "Uh oh, Daddy. Look what you made me do."

I'm eighteen now. Not the boy who sat on Grant's countertop all those years ago who knew nothing about the human body.

I've been through puberty and understand my wants and urges. The men in the warehouse made me mature faster than I should've.

Right now, I want Grant. No one else. Not that motherfucker Jack who took advantage of me when I was at my weakest. Not my asshole clients who said cruel things to me and beat me when I used my safe word. Grant's my savior, my rescuer, my everything. He'd never do something I didn't want—he'd protect me until the end.

Grant furrows his brow. "What are you doing?"

"I've thought about this moment for years." Taking Grant's hand in mine, I bring it between my legs. "This fantasy helped me get through my time in the warehouse. Please make it a reality, Daddy. I'm begging you."

Grant lets out a groan and dips his head between my legs. He swirls his tongue around my cock, then bobs on my rod. I force my fingers through his silver fox gray hair, pumping my shaft into his mouth.

"You're such a perfect boy." Grant drags his tongue up my cock. "I'll entertain your needs now, but you need serious direction, young man. Don't think you can manipulate your Daddy."

It's too much to take. I let out a cry as I bring the black dragon stuffy Christian gave me to my dick and pump out my orgasm. I send shot after shot of hot white cum rocketing into the stuffy, filling it with my seed.

Lots of boys did this in the warehouse. They fucked their stuffed animals because it helped them access the parts of them our captives stole. They called itstuffy kink. I never did it, but Sparrow and Finn were both into it. Mainly, I didn't want to get too attached to a stuffy only for the guards to rip it away. I'd be in an even worse place than where I started.

A desperate moan tears out of my lips as heat barrels through me. When I finish coming, I collapse on my sheets.

Visions of Grant swirl through my mind. I picture him standing on his doorstep, staring at the yellow cab that hurries down his street in the rain.

What was he thinking?

Did he see me standing there?

Did he spot my face as my cab took me back to my apartment?

One thing's certain.

I can't visit Grant's house again.

15

GRANT

Wednesday, May 20th

"Thanks for meeting me."

I settle into the booth as I pick up a drink menu from the center of the table. I'm with Jagger to discuss our boss. We're both on the clock right now so we couldn't risk speaking about what we needed to in our cars. Michael could've bugged us. This crowded bar in Chinatown is perfect for our meeting.

Throngs of people surround us—our voices will get lost in the crowd. If one of Michael's underlings is trailing us, they won't overhear what we're saying.

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