Chapter Five
"Did Mom send you a card?" Natasha asked her father as she looked at the cards that she had neatly arranged on the mantel of the fireplace in his favorite living room.
"No," he sighed in exasperation. "You know she hasn't given me a birthday card since she left us."
Yesterday had been her Father's birthday and that was why she had come to keep him company this weekend. He always liked to keep his birthday a private affair, but she enjoyed going through the birthday rituals with just the two of them. Baking him a birthday cake, opening his birthday cards with him, arranging the cards... They were all traditions she vaguely remembered her Mother having started, but anything her Mother ever started was short lived, so Natasha had to continue them alone.
"Are you sure you don't want to go out for a meal tonight? It will be on me!" Natasha turned to him to say cheerily, ignoring his previous glum response.
"You mean it will be on me," he grunted. He then settled down in front of his huge TV with a tumbler of whiskey in his hand.
The whiskey he was drinking had actually been a gift from Natasha, but he had received it ungratefully, complaining that, in actuality, he had paid for it. Nevertheless, he was still enjoying it so she had clearly chosen well.
"Well…yes," she awkwardly replied. She stared for a moment at the back of her father's head as he watched the news. "Would you like me to leave you alone for the rest of the night?"
"Yes please." He dismissed her with a flick of his wrist. "Oh, and remember that your step-mother is coming back from her trip tomorrow. Goodnight, Natasha."
"Goodnight, Daddy."
She went upstairs to her bedroom and sat on the edge of her bed. She loved her father, but their relationship often felt strained. She could never completely put her finger on why. She took off her shoes and socks, slipped her feet into her fuzzy pink slippers and fell back onto the bed. She had hoped that this weekend would be a good one, a happy one. She had been so excited to celebrate her father's birthday, but he was being such a wet blanket about it. Maybe it was because his wife Carol had been away on business all week. Still, if that was it, wouldn't he be giddy right now because she was coming home in the morning?
Natasha let out a long sigh. She decided to turn on this week's episode of Smackdown to calm her mind, even though she had been there and knew what would happen. She really just wanted to see Ambrose again. He had said that he'd text her with some instructions this week, but it had been a few days and still no message. She was starting to wonder if she should text him to see if there was a problem.
It was right as the main event was starting and Natasha had been lulled into a soothing wrestling trance when she was startled by her phone vibrating. Not many people text her, so it could very well be Dean.
"Please be Dean, please be Dean," she whispered to herself as she reached out for her phone.
The sender read 'Mr. Ambrose' as she still hadn't changed his name in her contacts, and didn't dare to. She felt a nervous sense of anticipation before she opened the full message. It read:
"Hello Nicola. I'm bored. You're going to entertain me."
Natasha speedily composed a reply. "Hi Dean. Its Natasha lol. Im bored 2 lol xxx"
She held the phone to her heart after sending it, eagerly awaiting his reply. She had an idea of how he wanted to be entertained, but she would have to wait and see what he said. Thankfully he did not make her wait very long.
"WTF was that? Let's set some rules:
1. You call me 'Mr. Ambrose'. I'm not going to tell you that again.
2. I don't care what your name is.
3. Don't ever text 'LOL' to me.
4. Text me in proper English.
5. Don't send me "kisses".
Now try again."
Natasha had never received such a long and formal text, or one that made her gut twist so much.
She stared at her phone, trying to figure out how to properly respond so that she didn't upset him more. She didn't want him to change his mind about letting her meet him after the show on Monday. It took her a few minutes to write the text, but she was happy with the result. She just hoped that Dean wouldn't be angry at how long it took for her to respond.
"Yes, Mr. Ambrose. I am sorry for disobeying you. Hello and how are you tonight?"
She scrunched her face as she read it over one last time before hitting send. It just looked so cold and formal. They had had intense, wild sex only a few days ago. Weren't they past such formalities? Perhaps Ambrose was just a man who liked old-fashioned manners, although you'd never guess it from his scruff exterior.
She was beginning to wonder if her second text wasn't good enough when he finally replied.
"That's much better. Good girl. I'm doing well. House show was fun. Driving with the boys now and I'm bored."
That's it? No instructions? Natasha was confused, but at least he praised her and was no longer upset. She smiled at the screen and was wondering if she was meant to reply when another text buzzed in.
"What are you wearing right now?"
Fashion was one of Natasha's favorite topics of conversation, aside from wrestling, so she was very happy that he was interested in what she was wearing. Plus, she thought she looked pretty hot today.
"I'm wearing a low cut white blouse with blue spots on it and skinny blue jeans. I bought them from H&M. What are you wearing?"
She took her time typing out the text and read it back to make sure it was as descriptive as possible. After sending it though, she realized that perhaps she shouldn't have told him that she shopped at H&M. She could afford better clothes and she didn't want to give him the wrong impression! Her phone buzzed again very quickly after she had sent the text.
"Interesting. What are you wearing underneath that?"
Natasha tried to make sense of the text she had just received. Was he really interested or was he being sarcastic? He had asked what she was wearing, but he hadn't actually answered her own question.
"I'll tell you when you tell me what your wearing first."
She texted him back and crossed her fingers that she wasn't being too impolite.
"Do you really think you're in a position to be demanding anything of me? Just answer what I fucking ask you if you want me to fuck you on Monday. Also your grammar is terrible."
Her eyes teared up slightly when she read that. Why was he being so mean? She just wanted to know what he was wearing, like he wanted to know about her outfit. She rubbed her eyes with her wrist and typed back.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Ambrose. It wasn't my place."
"You're right. It wasn't," he sent back. "But because you were so polite with your apology…I'm still wearing my ring gear."
Natasha felt the space between her legs begin to warm up. If there was one thing that she had learned so far from this new fascination with Dean Ambrose, it was that she really liked his ring gear. There was something about how it was all black, how the tight fabric of his shirt stretched over his strong chest, and goodness gracious, how those pants seemed to perfectly cup his firm ass.
She was brought back from her daydream when she felt her phone vibrate in her hand. She wiped the drool away from the corner of her mouth and opened the new text.
"Isn't there something you'd like to tell me, hmm? After I so graciously let you know what I was wearing."
Yes, there was something she would like to tell him.
"I'm wearing matching white bra and panties with pale blue bows on them," she replied and smiled to herself. He liked the underwear she had been wearing on Tuesday night so she was sure he would like these too.
"I bet you'd like me to ravish you in your cute underwear right now," he text back.
She didn't know what it was about that text that made her heart pound in her chest, but it really was right now.
"Yes Mr. Ambrose," Natasha hastily replied and held her phone tightly in her fist, her palms sweating. She was becoming more and more flustered as she awaited his next text.
"Slut. I will on Monday...if you're good. Why don't you send me a nice picture right now?"
Natasha did feel a little slutty right now, but she wasn't sure that she felt slutty enough to send him the type of picture he probably wanted.
"You mean like a picture in my bra and panties?"
"You think I'd be asking for a photo of you fully clothed? Am I fucking Amish or something?"
Natasha pursed her lips and thought about what she was being asked to do. She had never taken a picture of herself in her underwear. Sure, she had a few pictures in a bikini at the beach, but they were taken by friends or her boyfriend at the time. She'd never taken a selfie in her skivvies and sent it to anyone, let alone a celebrity! The idea was so naughty that it made her even wetter than thinking about him ravishing her in his tactical gear had.
She got up and locked her door. It was just her and daddy at home tonight, but she didn't want to risk him opening the door to say goodnight as he went to bed. How mortifying would it be for her father to see her in such a compromising position!
She went back over to the bed and pulled the blouse over her head. She unfastened her jeans and wriggled out of them. She folded both pieces of clothing and put them neatly to the side before looking back at her phone. She picked it up and sat against the headboard of the bed. She slid down a little bit so she was sort of slouched against it. She held the phone away from her body, hit a classic pin-up pose, and clicked the shutter button. She double checked it for clarity before she sent it to him. God, she hoped he liked it.
She waited a bit longer for his reply this time, which she did not find reassuring.
"Not bad. Show me a bit more."
"What do you want to see?"
She had been ready to get dressed again. A picture of her in her bra and panties had been all she was willing to show him. It was different being naked in front of him; she would feel dirty taking naked pictures of herself and then sending them to him.
"Your tits, for a start."
Natasha could remove her bra in one swift movement but she would rather not…
"I'm sorry but I don't want to :("
She worded her text politely, knowing he probably wasn't going to take her rejection well.
"If you want to fuck me on Monday, you'd better. This is only the first thing I'm going to make you do that you don't want to do."
Natasha inhaled sharply at the nasty text he had just sent. The way he was speaking to her wasn't OK, but the thought of him making her do things against her will was actually really getting her going.
She sighed in defeat. Her increasing arousal and strong urge to have him do unspeakable things to her again overpowered the fact that he was being a dick. She unfastened her bra and slipped it off of her. She held the phone in front of her perky, yet modest breasts and took the photo. She evaluated it and thought it came out pretty good. She sent the picture, thinking that he would love it.
She hesitated putting her bra back on, suspecting that Dean would be upset if he knew that she had.
"Not bad. Take another one with your nipples hard."
Her face was beet red with embarrassment at the naughty things he was asking her to do. He was nowhere near her, but she felt like he was sitting in her room, staring at her, watching her every move. She began to pinch her nipples gently, imagining that it was Dean doing it to her. They grew erect under her fingers within seconds. She quickly took a picture and sent it with one hand, continuing to touch her breasts with the other because it felt so good. She only stopped when she got his reply.
"That's more like it. I knew you were a huge slut under that whole innocent gimmick. You'd better be thinking about me when you touch yourself."
"I am," Natasha admitted in her next text and went straight back to tweaking her nipples as soon as she sent it.
She'd never before truly appreciated her own breasts; the way they filled her small hands, how soft the skin felt, how hard and pink her nipples could be. She pinched one a little harder, imagining the tips of her fingers were Dean's teeth nipping at her. Then her phone buzzed again and she eagerly opened the next text.
"Good. Now pull your panties down, get on all fours and take a pic of your tight ass."
Ah. That seemed a little too far for Natasha. Getting into such a position seemed a bit crude and if she bent over, Dean might see more than her bum in the picture…but if she didn't comply then Dean might call off Monday. Perhaps he may accept an alternative. She looked at the door and listened out for her Daddy's footsteps, but she could only hear the television blaring downstairs. Hopefully that meant he hadn't moved from the spot she had left him in. She quickly pulled down her panties just enough to expose her backside, lied on her side and snapped a quick picture of her ass. It looked erotic enough to her. Her panties had been pulled down to just below her buttocks and the tops of her thighs and her lower back were visible, but nothing in between her legs. It was tasteful. Feeling satisfied that it would be enough, she pulled them back up and sent him the picture.
"Cute. Now do it for real this time."
She sent back a text expressing her confusion. "What do you mean 'for real'? I took a picture of what you asked for."
"Do I have to fucking spell it out for you? Take off those frilly little panties of yours, spread your legs, and take another damn picture. I want to see your pretty pink pussy peeking out from between your legs."
Her face was radiating with shame as she stood up and finished taking off her panties. She felt a few tears begin to well up in her eyes. He wasn't here with her, but she knew that if he was, he'd be yelling at her. She hated being yelled at. Also she had never been made to do anything so degrading before. Well, maybe this wasn't as degrading as exhibitionist sex, but she had to actually physically take this picture on her own, while the sex she just sort of let happen to her.
She positioned herself as he had instructed and snapped the photo. She stayed in that position while she sent the picture and the scent of her arousal wafted up to her nose. Her eyes widened. Was this really turning her on so much? She slid her hand down between her legs and when she brought them back in front of her, they were slick and shining with wetness.
"Oh God," she muttered and wiped her fingers clean on her bed sheets before she became tempted to try touching herself down there. She really shouldn't be doing this in her Dad's house...and maybe she should open a window. She went to get off the bed when Dean quickly replied.
"Wasn't so hard was it? Nice. I can see how wet you are. You're making me so hard right now."
Natasha gasped when she read the text back to herself and checked the picture to see if he was telling the truth. She grimaced when she opened it. However, after staring at it for a minute, looking at the shape of her pert bottom, the way her buttocks topped her softly curving thighs and how her pussy did peek out between her thighs, she could understand why he liked the picture…and yes, the light had caught the wetness between her legs.
Natasha wished she could think of something intelligent and quick witted to text back, but she couldn't. She liked that she was turning him on and her pussy definitely liked it, but she wasn't used to sexting. She would feel way too silly trying to be sexy through texts and besides, he might not want her to be anyway.
She got fully dressed and lied back down on her bed, trying to ignore her now aching pussy. Then her phone buzzed again.
"No text back bitch?"
She started to panic now. Would he be upset that she didn't reply back immediately? Did he expect her to say something in particular? She decided that the best course of action would be to tell the truth.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Ambrose. I wasn't sure what to say back. I've never sexted before and I didn't want to embarrass myself."
She held her breath while she waited for a reply. Thankfully she didn't have to wait long.
"That's fine. I shouldn't expect you to be a complete cockslut without a little bit of training. You did well though. We're going to enjoy those pictures."
We? Oh no…was he sharing these with the other wrestlers?
"I am still disappointed that you didn't follow orders the first time. Do better tomorrow when I text you."
Natasha felt butterflies in her stomach when she read that he was going to text her tomorrow. He didn't seem to hate her after this series of messages. She smiled, in spite of the fact that she felt ashamed at how far she had let him convince her to go. He seemed to have a mental hold on her. His sexual charisma was just that strong.
So this is the beginning of the "challenges" arc, I suppose. ^^() BB and I just have too much fun tormenting this poor girl.