My sugar daddy asks me for strange favors

My sugar daddy is the devil. The handsome and charming man who knows just what to say to make any woman fall head over heels for him. I met him at an upscale bar where all the wealthy business men hang out and flirt with the pretty young things who want a stable future with a hot, older man. At the time, I thought I was one of them. I had spent years with an emotionally abusive and slightly alcohol dependent boyfriend who turned out to be a regular cheating POS. I needed money to get an apartment and some luxuries, and I needed to be with someone who would indulge me, spoil me, make me feel loved. This man fit the bill, though he turned out not to be what I thought he was. When I met him, his eyes locked onto mine like he was a dog staring into the eyes of his owner. I felt a strange tingling in my fingers, and I dropped my phone. I spent the rest of the night trying to get his attention, and I was by his side drinking a cosmopolitan when I saw him sit down at the bar. After ordering his first round of drinks, he turned and flashed me a charming smile. “How’s the view from there?” he asked. “Mind if I join you?” I laughed dryly, trying to play the “not impressed” card, but he seemed to already know I was. “I’m just getting a drink,” I said. “Oh?” He reached out and stroked a strand of hair behind my ear. His hand touched my earlobe for a second, sending a shiver down my spine. I didn’t notice his nails. By the time I did, I figured it was rude to ask him about it. “I’m just waiting for my date.” I emphasized the last word. He smiled. “I hope he’s treating you well.” “I don’t even know him yet.” “Ah, then I hope we can get to know each other well before he arrives.” I smiled, and our conversation was off. We talked about topics I didn’t usually touch on. I was on my third cosmopolitan when I realized time had passed. He had bought me two drinks by then, and I didn’t notice the strange looks from the bartender until he was standing up to leave. “I think you’ve had enough for now,” he said, taking the drink from my hand. “Plenty more where that came from, sweetheart,” the bartender said with a smile. “Actually,” my mystery man said, his tone not matching the bartender’s. “I’ll have her tab.” “On me,” the bartender said. I don’t know why, but at that moment I was determined to see this man home. I grabbed his hand and walked out the door with him, leaving a very confused bartender behind. “I think he likes you,” the guy said when we were outside. I stumbled slightly as I walked. I guess three drinks on an empty stomach had been a bit too much. “I think I like you,” I said. “I know you do,” he said, smiling and taking my hand. He pulled me close and I felt his hot breath on my earlobe. “But do you know what you’re getting yourself into?” I drew back and looked at him, narrowing my eyes. “I’m a big girl, I can handle myself.” He smiled. “I’m sure you can.” I drew closer to him, my teeth flashing with a wicked smile. “How much are you worth?” I asked. He smiled and leaned closer. “More than you could ever imagine,” he said. Then he kissed me. Or, more precisely, I think he bit me. He was so gentle I couldn’t tell, but it hurt more than it should have. He pulled back, and I saw blood covering his lips. “Holy shit! Oh my god, oh my god. Your lip is bleeding!” I exclaimed. I rushed into the bar, leaving him stunned. “Holy shit, your lip is bleeding!” I said to the bartender. He looked behind me, then back at me. “You think I did that?” I looked behind me, and he was gone. A man with a chiseled jaw and a charming smile was sitting in his seat. His eyes were black, not blue, and his nails were short instead of long. “You must be the date,” he said. I stared. My head spun. “What?” I finally said. “Where is he? Was that…was that my date?” “No,” he said. “You must have had too much to drink.” I didn’t even know how much I had. Three drinks? Four? Everything was fuzzy. “I think I need to go home.” “Let me call you an Uber.” I stood there, dazed, as he called an Uber for me. It wasn’t until the next morning, when I woke up in my own bed, that I realized I had left without learning his name. He texted me when I rolled over and groggily looked at my phone. “Morning, beautiful. How’s your head? We should do dinner tonight.” It was 10:24. I looked at my clock. It said 6:42. “Yeah, sure,” I said, tossing my phone onto the bed. I turned over and went back to sleep. I woke up again around 4 and texted him. “Hey.” I stared at the phone, willing him to text back. It wasn’t until 6 that he did. “Yeah.” “Hey,” I said. “When can I see you?” “I have to work tonight.” “When do you get off?” I was starting to feel uncomfortable. The whole situation freaked me out, weird as it was. Plus, I was starting to feel like he was stalking me. “PLEASE tell me your name,” I said. “Mueller. We should do dinner. You can call me Muels.” “Fine,” I said. “Is that your real name?” “It’s real enough to you,” he said. “What do you say we do dinner?” I sighed. I didn’t have the money to go to dinner, and I had a feeling that telling him that would piss him off. Plus, he had offered to buy my drinks. Maybe he would foot the bill. I did still have rent and bills to pay. “Fine,” I said. “Great. See you in twenty minutes.” “Can I take a shower first?” “Don’t bother. I’ll get you dirty again.” I shuddered, but stood up. I walked to the door, smoothie in hand. He was standing there, leaning against a wall. “You look absolutely stunning,” he said. I rolled my eyes. “I really hope that isn’t a line,” I said. “See what you did there,” he said. I didn’t respond and he didn’t pursue it. Instead, he offered me his arm and I took it. The first thing he did after he sat down was order a bottle of wine. “If you get too tipsy, just let me know.” “Tried that already,” I said. I regretted it the instant I said it. “Would you like another drink now?” “No,” I said. “Thank you.” He smiled and one of the waiters came over to take our order. “I’ll get the bill,” he said once the waiter left. I didn’t argue. I had barely enough for the tip. “How’s it going?” “It’s going pretty well.” He was quiet for a moment as we looked over the menus. When he finally spoke, I jumped. “I need a favor,” he said. “What do you need me to do?” “What were you doing at that bar?” he asked. “Just looking for a good time.” “The kind that will cost me a lot of money?” I sighed. “You want a sugar baby, I get it,” I said. “All I want is enough to pay my bills. I’m not some gold digging bitch who’s looking for a handout.” “When can I expect you to come over?” “Expect? I don’t remember saying I would be your sugar baby.” “You didn’t,” he said. “I just know you will.” Asshole. “Fine,” I said. “But you have to answer some questions for me.” “Fine,” he said. “But you have to answer some questions for me.” “Real name?” I asked. “Diablo.” “Why did your nails look long?” “They weren’t.” “Why does your lip bleed sometimes?” “It’s not a big deal.” “Why were your eyes black one minute and blue the next?” “They’re not,” he said. “That’s just how you saw them.” “And the bartender! Why were you weird with him?” “He’s just jealous.” “Why did your name change?” “You’re drunk.” “So you said. Why did you change your name?” “You’re misunderstanding.” “Why did you change your-” “You’re drunk, and I’m not answering any more of your questions until you sober up.” “Yes, sir.” We ate dinner in silence, and then he took me to his car. I was stunned when we drove past the city and entered a very wealthy neighborhood. Most of the houses were mansions, and his was no exception. He was incredibly wealthy, and would be able to support me. I was starting to like the idea of him as a sugar daddy. He took my hand as we walked up the path to his front door, and I didn’t argue. Inside, his house was huge. It was lavish, decorated with items that I couldn’t even imagine being able to afford. I walked through the house

My sugar daddy asks me for strange favors

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