Chapter 100: Date with Daddy

Chapter 100: Date with Daddy
Sophie

“Daddy!” I screamed at the top of my lungs as we entered the house. Several guards flinched at the sudden explosion of sound that bounced off the marble floor.

“Sophie! Inside voices,” Asher scolded, shaking his head. He tried to hide his smile, but he couldn’t. I fucked him so good, I could get away with murder right now in front of him, and he wouldn’t do anything. I just stuck my tongue out at him. And he just rolled his eyes before slapping my ass harshly as he walked off.

I went to the intercom system and hit the special button that would broadcast over the whole property. I chuckled darkly before lowering my voice like a demonic child and singing, “Daddy, come out and play!” I waited for ten seconds before I decided a whinier “Daddy! I needs you!”

Soon, the elevator dinged, and out stepped an annoyed Matlock. I ran at him at full speed and leaped into his arms, crashing my lips on his. He caught me instantly, of course, and I could feel the tension leaving his body as his lips danced with mine. They were all suckers for my affections.

“Well, hello, baby girl!” Matlock said, kissing my nose.

“Daddy, I want to spend some time with you. Can you take some time off today and be with me? Asher and Zion said they would handle the business. Please, please, please, please, please, please!” I begged and gave him my best puppy dog eyes.

“How can I deny you, baby girl?” he sighs when he lets me down. He pulls out his phone and texts Asher, who gives him instructions.

“What did you want to do this afternoon?” he asked me. I just smiled widely and pulled him down the hall.

Ten minutes later. “Baby girl, we have servants and chefs for this,” Matlock says unconvincingly.

“Daddy,” I say sternly with my hand on my hip. “You need to show more appreciation for the people that work for you. This will be so much fun and mean a lot.”

“But one hundred cookies?” Matlock asked me, scratching his neck.

“No. Not one hundred cookies… One hundred chocolate chip cookies, one hundred sugar cookies, one hundred Snickerdoodle cookies, one hundred homemade Rice Krispie bars, and one hundred peanut butter surprise cookie sandwiches,” I smiled wickedly as Matlock’s eyes widened.

“What the fuck, Sophie? That will take hours!”

“Yep! The perfect date. Let’s get to work,” I said, turning on my heel and snapping my fingers to add to the dramatic flair. We were going to do this, whether he liked it or not.

To say everything went smoothly would be the joke of the century, but we managed it! We are both covered in flour, sugar, and melted chocolate, as are half of the kitchen counters, the floor, and even the walls. I'm pretty sure there is melted chocolate on the ceiling, too. We created a hurricane in the once pristine kitchen, but we were having a blast, which mattered most.

We listened to an eighties classic rock station, dancing and singing with our spatulas. We tag-teamed each recipe. I would measure the ingredients, and Matlock put his big muscles to work, stirring everything together.

I am also the reason why we are covered in so much food. I couldn’t help but toss a little flour at Matlock as I rolled out the sugar cookies. He came behind me, squeezing my hips and sucking on my particular spot under my ear. He knew exactly how to distract me, so I picked up a little flour and chucked it over my shoulder right in his face. It was the funniest thing I had seen in a long time. I couldn’t control my laughter.
Matlock retaliated by picking up a handful of flour and dropping it right above my head. Splat! He then added salt to my wounded ego when he rubbed the flour into my hair. Into. The ass made sure it got into the roots. It's going to be like fucking plaster when I have to wash it out! It was then war.

I flicked a spoon of chocolate right at his face, and he took an egg and smashed it down my shirt, making sure it coated my boobs. He enjoyed taking advantage of me being pinned against the counter to massage the egg yolks against my bare skin, twisting and teasing my nipples. So, of course, when I had the chance, I reached inside his boxers and massaged his balls. He didn’t notice until I was done that I had coated my hand in syrup. Now his balls were sticky. Cue an evil laugh. We laughed and talked about history and music.

We somehow managed to make one hundred little gift bags full of treats. Mr. Roberto had come in to deliver some mail and saw the disaster we had made. He suggested we call some of the staff to help us with the rest of our little adventure.

Once the kitchen was cleaned up, I insisted on hand-delivering each goody bag to every person on the property. I walked around with my floured head held high. The cleanest thing I had was my apron. Matlock was just as bad. He wore a tuxedo apron, too. It was so cute and comical. The guards were shocked at our appearance, but when they learned we made them treats, and I said thank you to each of them for their support and dedication to our safety, they were taken aback. Several of them clutched the treats like lifelines, with tears in their eyes. Many of them bowed and said many nice things.

One of my favorite guards, Brooks, asked permission to kiss my cheek and devoured two cookies right before us. His moan was so loud that he was pretty sure the entire house thought he was busting a nut.
We gave to the servants, chefs, those at the gates, and in the tech room, as well as Mr. Roberto. Everyone got a bag. When we were done, there were four bags left. Matlock raised his eyebrow, asking silently who they were for. “For us, silly goose!” I answered him.

We dropped the basket off, and I scooped up the remaining goodies. “You’re it!” I screamed as I playfully hit Matlock’s floured shirt before running away. I made it up six steps of the grand staircase before I was hoisted over a shoulder, and up we went. I was placed directly in the shower and quickly striped before Matlock turned on the power jets.

It took a solid forty minutes to get off all the food. I had to wash my hair six times to get out all the flour. It didn’t help that Matlock decided to wash his hardened cock with my inner juices. He pinned me against the wall and entered me from behind. His thrusts were slow but deep. He hit that particular spot with every move of his hips. We came together. Hard. My eyes rolled in the back of my head as I milked his shaft for every drop.

“Good thing we don’t need to go far to take a shower,” I muttered when we had caught our breath. Matlock started laughing loudly. He smacked my wet ass a few times, making me squeal. He nipped my shoulder before he stepped out and let me wash up again.

By the time I stepped out of the bathroom with a towel around my body, Asher and Zion were sitting on the bed, munching on their treats and their eyes rolling in the back of their heads. “Better than an orgasm, right?” I said teasingly. The twins winked at me, stuffing their faces with the rest of the morsels of sugary goodness. Matlock returned to the room and handed me my treat bag, which I happily savored. As soon as I bit into the snickerdoodle, I moaned and muttered with a full mouth, “So much fucking better than an orgasm!”

Matlock came out with some clothes for me and helped me change. Once I was dressed, he kissed me softly. “I had fun today, baby girl. Thank you for always bringing the brightest light into our darkness,” he said sweetly. Cue the waterworks!

“I was also wondering if you would do me the honor and be my date to the Children’s Gala on Saturday? I was meeting with board members to discuss funding a new research wing, among other things,” Matlock asked.

“I’d love to, Daddy! Thank you!” I replied, kissing his cheek. “But I have one request,” I added.

“Anything, baby!”

“Instead of a research wing, can we set up a fund for treatment plans for the kids? There are so many children that can’t get the treatment they need because the insurance companies won’t fund lifesaving medicine or procedures,” I stated, feeling a surge of protectiveness and resolve to make sure the defenseless children are taken care of.

Matlock smiled brightly and kissed me fiercely. “I love it, baby girl. That is a brilliant idea. We will make it happen!”

I was already very excited about Saturday. Nothing could go wrong at a charity ball for children, right?

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The next day, Uncle Brutius was resting his eyes when he was disturbed by his phone buzzing.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

“What?” the crazed Uncle Brutius shouted angrily when he answered his phone. He was sick of being stuck in this damn little apartment; cabin fever was no joke. It was not clean, the food was mediocre, and the smell of drugs in the hallway was making him nauseous. He was used to luxury.

“Sir, we have confirmation the Andersons are attending the Children’s Gala. The Lady Sophie will be with them,” the man on the line said.

“Excellent. You know what I need. Make it happen,” the Uncle demanded before hanging up the phone. He wasn’t going to give his inside man a chance to respond.

He grabbed his wallet and stupid disguise and quickly headed out his hideout's door. He took public transportation, which he absolutely despised. It was always a terrible experience for him, but he had to stay inconspicuous right now. He eventually made it to a storage facility on the other side of the city, where he kept a small treasure trove of ammunition, clothes for any occasion, and various tools that could help him in a pinch. I found the perfect tux I would wear to the Gala on Saturday.

He loaded various weapons and grabbed the metal shackles and the vile containing a clear red liquid he had stashed away. That was for little Sophie. She would never know what hit her. He would grab her, bind her, and breed her by force before killing her in the worst way imaginable for the pain she has caused his family. The Andersons will be dead by Saturday so that no one will stop him.