Page 4 of Snow Cam Do

It’s possible I dislike the man simply because my doll depends on him. Instinct, which has never steered me wrong, says there’s more at play. I’ll figure it out. I go by Radar for a reason. If it exists, I can find it.

Who is this? - Greer

Wrong question. - Me

Do I know you? - Greer

Still the wrong question. -Me

What do you want? - Greer

There you go. My smart little doll. You asked the right question. What do I want? Everything. - Me

Okay, creepy much? Why should I trust you? - Greer

Creeping her out isn’t my goal, but she’ll get over it. Money creates stability. With stability, even my odd demands will become comfortable truths for her. I’m sure of it.

Do I wish I could have a face-to-face relationship with the girl of my dreams the way my brothers have with their wives? Of course, I do. There’s zero chance a beautiful young woman like Greer would be interested in submitting to the overbearing needs of a scarred up old SEAL like me. Especially since the scar that knifes from hairline to chin down the left side of my cheek is nowhere near as off-putting as the scars that dominate my psyche.

Those are the scars that made me into the monster I hide, even from my SEAL brothers. As far as they’re concerned, I’m still the laidback guy they expect to deliver all the intel they need. To be fair, I’ve always worked to keep my darkness separate from them. The Navy knows where I come from. They know the family connections I was born into and what I walked away from when I enlisted.

For everything the Navy gave me, my brothers, my career, the chance to be proud of myself instead of ashamed, there were costs to pay. Tasks and orders my team knew nothing about. Things I can never regret because they were necessary, but for which I can also never forgive myself.

It all comes full circle back to wanting to keep this girl for my own, but knowing I can’t be worthy of her. She might not be as innocent and inexperienced as I mistakenly assumed, but she’s definitely too good for the likes of me.

You should trust me because I’ve got your best interests in mind. Sign the contract. Agree to my terms. Give me what I want, and in exchange… -Me

In exchange what? You gonna be my sugar daddy from behind a screen? - Greer

Nothing sweet about me, little doll. But yes, you will be spoiled and provided for. My precious toy to play with and control. Sign the contract, baby girl. Then we can play. - Me

My cock strains against the confines of my slacks. Hungry for her obedience even without visual confirmation of it. The dancing bubble indicates Greer’s typing her response, syncing with the throbbing pressure in my balls.

I’ve stroked off to filthy fantasies of my darling plaything since the first time I saw her, months ago, trailing behind movers as they carried her belongings into the building. It’s different now. Knowing she’s a wanton sex nymph, rather than a chaste untouched maiden, frees me to truly unleash.

My hand traces along the length of my shaft, trapped as it is beneath the bespoke charcoal wool of my Rubinacci slacks, imagining instead the too soft touch belongs to Greer. That it’s her nimble fingers dancing over me, hesitating to go too far without my explicit permission.

She’s looking up at me as she kneels between my spread legs, waiting to be told what to do. With my other hand, I unfasten my trousers and free my thick meat from its luxurious prison.

“Open your mouth and stick out your tongue, little doll. You’ve been such a good girl for me. Signing the contract just like I instructed. I’m going to reward you with my cum. Be a good toy and receive me.”

I lean forward in the chair, noting the receipt of her message on the screen of my computer even as I tilt my head forward to spit down onto my palm. I stroke myself from root to tip, firm pressure twisting and clamping down roughly as I reach the mushroom end. All the while pretending she’s on her knees before me, open to me and waiting for my cum.

I like to play, Daddy. -Greer

The words on the screen create the perfect storm together with the forceful grip I’ve got on my painfully thick cock. Cum erupts, splashing in waves over my lap, ruining my thousand dollar slacks. I couldn’t care less about the pants, the next message is a picture of the contract I had couriered to her condo, signed and dated. I wipe my jizz-splattered knuckles on the wool covering my thigh and type a response.

Good girl. Now read the email I have sent you. -Me

ChapterSix

Greer

Can’t. Internet’s down. -Me

Which doubly sucks, because I really, really want to know what he wants me to do next. The contract I just signed terminates my business relationship with Chaz as well as pledges that for the duration of the agreement, I’m only camming for one viewer. In exchange, I’ll be paid five times more than I’ve ever earned in my life, weekly.

At first, I was going to opt all the way out of that situation of nopeness. Then I read the clause that says I have full power to say no if he asks me to do anything I’m uncomfortable with. It would be a deal breaker if he hadn’t put that in. I’ve seen too many weird-as-shit requests from clients to ever agree to anything blindly.

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