“Stop calling me daddy.”

Karajan pauses the movie. I’m in trouble now. Karajan is upset. He stares at me, and I have to look down. “Okay. I’m sorry.”

“Baby–look. Look at me.” I look into his deep dark face. All these issues you have. Trust me, we’ll get there. But we need to learn to love like normal people first. Take care of each other.”

“But I already do love you so much daddy!” And I start to hug him. But before I do…

SMACK. Right in my face! I bleed a little where my big teeth cut my lip. But I wanted him to do that, so it’s okay.

“Goddamnit Hannah I told you to stop with this shit. This shit is fucked up!”

“I’m sorry…” Karajan looks at me firm again. “I didn’t mean to, honest!” I lie. Then I gave him a little smile and we rub our noses together. We suck on the blood creeping down my lip. It tastes really good.

“That’s a good girl. I love you Hannahbanana.”

“I love you too Da…”

“Don’t even.”

“Okay!”

Now Karajan hits the play button again. Karajan likes to watch the 1968 Franco Zephirelli Romeo & Juliet on VHS tape constantly. Everyday. I think it’s kind of weird, honestly–and even pedophilic–but just a little. Plus, I don’t like it when I’m in a room with someone and they aren’t paying attention to me. Karajan is the only one in the whole world who doesn’t pay attention to me. It makes me confused, and sad.

But I know how to get his attention.

“Daddy?”

Karajan is picking me up now with both arms, and I wrap my long slender arms around his neck. I’m sad–Karajan isn’t even angry; When he’s angry I know he loves me, and that time I really really I deserved it! Now he takes me down to his basement. Down in his basement is where he ties me up. He takes his time with it and uses lots and lots of rope. I know he enjoys it, though he pretends not to, and it makes me feel super special. Like I’m his little bird, or his angel, that he doesn’t want to let go of.

He prepares a serum and sticks a needle in my arm that I know will make me sleepy. Then he puts on nice music for me to listen to that helps me calm down. Ballet or opera music. Then he checks all of my knots to make sure all my nerves will be okay and not be pinched overnight. Then he puts a blanket over me and makes sure it’s tight over my neck.

I sleep better at Karajan’s than anywhere else in the world. I don’t have to look at my phone or know what time it is or have any distractions from the prison of my own consciousness. “Night night,” he says when he’s all through.

“Karajan?”

“Yes sweetheart?”

“Do you want to..stay with me…down here tonight?”

“No Hannah. We really need to work on your behavior.”

I can’t believe he doesn’t want to fuck me! Everybody wants to fuck me. I flew all this way! It makes me sad. But deep down, I know it’s for my own good. So I can face myself, he says. Then he turns off the light and closes the door and locks it from the outside.

I really enjoy being a cumdoll. Even though, supposedly, I’m supposed to be some kind of spokeswoman for the women’s right’s movement, in the human resources department at the company where I work. I only talk like that in public for the political points it gets me, and to use it as leverage against any men who challenge me or disagree with me in any kind of way at work. It’s magick! Anytime I want to ruin a guy’s life and get him fired, all I have to say is “He sexually harassed me!” Since I’m so hot and everything, it’s obvious I always tell the truth. Bam. Problem solved! This is how I moved into a top position with my company so fast. And it’s great! I don’t even have to do anything anymore but sign papers, walk around in my sexy outfits, and look hot.

It’s important to suck a cock though, especially the higher ups. But I like to suck cock. I like to make a man fall in love with me for the rest of his life just by sucking his cock one time. Jeez. I’m such a cumslut.

Sometimes I do feel guilty about it. But that’s what Karajan is for. Karajan sees through all the bullshit that’s just a normal part of life for a hot white girl in America. So he ties me up in his basement sometimes on the weekends. It really makes my arms and legs strong and tones them. Plus, it’s great for losing weight! He whips me when I want him to, but he says he doesn’t like to have to do that. But I always know I can make him whip me if I call him Daddy. So really I’m the one in control.

Karajan has been through some rough times. But this makes him more authentic, and real, and more interesting to be around! Karajan thinks I’m just another dumb cunt, and maybe I am sometimes, but I know I’m getting smarter. Sometimes, when I drink his come (when he lets me drink his come, I mean) I imagine I’m eating all his babies at once. That they will all grow in me at the same time, and make me more like Karajan, really dark and brooding, and just over all super smart. I think, maybe, just maybe, if I drink enough of his come, I will be deep and full of wisdom like how Karajan is.

Karajan is an out of work music composer living on disability checks in the Appalachian Mountains. He almost died of cancer last year. I didn’t like how his come tasted then. Plus, he didn’t have any hair. He was all bald, and didn’t have eyebrows! I gave him a couple of mercy fucks, because I am a good person, but I never came. I’m so glad Karajan is all better, and that his come tastes sweet again. I love you Daddy!