Exhibitionist

Chapter Six

Finally, some proof of our relationship progressing. I've finally gotten Lee's permission to call him Daddy.
Most subs will assume it's okay to call any dom Daddy, but I like to earn that privilege. You never know who has kids, it could be a totally awkward title for a parent. I think it's very fitting in our situation, as a fatherless sub, whose dom is protective and caring.
I do feel like a kid sometimes, especially when he corrects my mistakes. Or when I bother him while he's busy. Or when he makes me eat chicken nuggets he made because I "forgot" to eat lunch.
I was losing weight anyways, finally, but there's no telling if it was because of the rather strenuous sex we've been having or the amount of throwing up I did after meals.
I didn't eject everything I ate- only foods containing bread. Sandwiches, croissants, croutons.
I think that's fair. Bread isn't very nutritious anyways.
I don't think Lee notices that part.
Which is perfect, because I don't want him to. He eats in an aesthetic way, arranges his food on the plate the way a chef would. Smears sauces with a spoon, carefully places dried herbs, and every photo is taken with flash and edited with an extremely saturated and colorful filter.
He's bigger than I am, and arguably, more fit.
He was the image that popped in my head when I thought the word, "dominant".
Picture perfect.
I have to match him then, of course, and be someone's picture perfect idea of a submissive.
I glance at him through the open door of his game room.
He's in his cushioned rolly chair, laughing his ass off at some influencer.
Influencers are exhibitionists, too.
Broadcasting their entire lives to the public eye.
Where they went, what they ate.
Their family drama.
They tell you how hard it is to be a trendsetter and spend your vacation time editing clips of funny things happening to them, but at the end of the day they always come back.
For the attention, or the money.
To feel important.
On all fours, I inch into the room. The door creaks open, but not enough to alert him.
My day collar dangles under my chest.
The micro-celebrity talks loudly through the headset.
'He must have some pretty high quality equipment.', I conclude.
I crawl beneath his computer desk and sit at his feet. His head stays in place, but his eyes dart to me. He smiles a little.
"What is it, baby?", Daddy spoke softly.
I bowed my head a little bit and let him stroke my hair.
He's so gentle with me.
I nuzzle my chin into his thigh, and he continues viewing some gameplay or comedy or whatever it is that gamer boys watch.
'This is all I need.', I think, before closing my eyes for a nap.