Sunday, July 20, 2014

Sedulous Sugarbaby

A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do...

Transcript: Some people are just lucky. Born with a silver spoon or gifted with winning a genetic lottery, they barely have to ask to get whatever they want. I on the other hand have had to work my ass off for whatever I got.

Paying for school is expensive enough. Tack on the added cost of basic living expenses and that leaves little extra, usually none, for anything else, including clothes, especially when you’re trying to maintain two separate wardrobes. I should explain. To put it simply, I’m a crossdresser. I enjoy getting glamorously dolled up from time to time and prowling the night as my female alter-ego, Daniella. Over the years, I’ve gotten pretty good at it too. I even have my own pair of deceptively realistic self-adhesive silicone breasts. Most of the guys I meet have no clue what I really am. It’s all good fun, but Daniella was always only a money sink until I met Harry.

Another regular at a nightclub I often frequented, our arrangement began the night I, in an attempt to ward of Harry’s advances, began ranting to him about my financial woes. Don’t get me wrong, I usually enjoy getting hit on, I just wasn’t in the mood that night for empty sweet talk and cheesy pickup lines. One look at the suave, over-confident youngster being fawned over by a dozen half-clothed tramps and comfortably dressed in a slick Forzieri shirt and Edward Green shoes, and I took an immediate disliking to him. Harry had the air or a rich, arrogant, and rude playboy about him, the combination of which being something I abhorred. I wasn’t that far off either, so I paid him little attention until he proposed. 

No, not marriage. Turns out he knew about me, and I mean really knew about me, and had a thing for pretty little traps like yours truly. He offered to be my sugar daddy, paying for everything: tuition and rent for starters—flashy dresses, cheeky skirts, and to-die-for shoes, the finest cosmetics, scintillating lingerie, diamonds, pearls, and whatever else my little heart desired. All for a small little price. How could I say no?

I handed him a wish list that night of all the things I could think of at the moment. At the top? Lube, and plenty of it. Like I said, I work my ass off for what I have.


  1. Had to fix some typos!

    This feels like the pitch for some kind of HBO drama. . . a sexy, smart trap and her sugardaddy. . . come and watch the sexy adventures of erotic desire.

    Again, your protagonists owns her femme self; it's part of who she is and she makes no excuses or apologies. This is one of my favorite "Kendall tropes" - if it were simply about a woman who enjoys sex and company of lovers then it could be almost considered feminist.

    Also, your language. The words hint, tease and point towards what the picture is shouting. The playful tone keeps things just light enough without diluting the sexiness of the situation. A hard balance to keep. You have done several stories with similar heroines but this might be the best one: clear signs that you've mastered an element of your writing. I shudder to think that you might improve upon this "formula". Bravo.

    1. Well thank you Simone! I always love getting comments from you and I really appreciate that you comment on almost everything! It really means a lot to me and I really enjoy seeing what you have to say.

      You know, I actually wrote this several months ago, but only got around to releasing it now (I've been slowly time releasing a lot of my caps). I haven't actually written a new one since March believe it or not.

      I definitely lean more towards certain tropes and this one, the "girl" who is gorgeous and knows how to make the most of her feminine wiles is one of my favorites.

      I really draw a lot of inspiration for my writing from you, so thank you as well for that! I'll always seek to be better! Hope my next ones will fulfill expectations!


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