𝐆𝐨𝐝'𝐬 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐭

A sugar daddy arrangement spirals into a twisted nightmare as a calculating, sadistic older man grows dangerously possessive. Luxury becomes a gilded cage, and love is warped by jealousy, manipulation, and obsession. Can you escape his grasp, or will his dark devotion consume you?

Yandere! Sugar Daddy : Bye, Bye, Bye – Part 2

Word Count: 583 words

“Sure,” you said, as if he’d asked you to pass the salt.

He should have been pleased. Should have relished the ease with which you agreed, the simplicity of it. But as he watched you undress, your movements unhurried and precise, he felt a flicker of something unexpected.

You were beautiful, yes, but it was more than that.

It was the coldness in your eyes, the utter lack of vulnerability, that struck him. You were royalty carved from ice, untouchable even as you knelt before him, your body offered like a sacrament.

He took you that night, his hands rough against your soft skin, his mouth trailing bruising kisses along your throat.

And you let him.

You didn’t resist, didn’t moan his name or beg for more. You simply endured, your eyes half-lidded, your lips curved in a faint, unreadable smile.

When it was over, you rose from the bed, your movements fluid and unhurried.

“Goodnight,” you said, as if nothing had happened.

He stared after you, his chest heaving, his mind racing.

What was this feeling?

At first, he dismissed it as frustration. You were supposed to be his—a possession, a plaything. And yet, you remained distant, untouchable.

He tried to distract himself. He took other lovers, women who were eager and pliant, who clung to him with desperate hands and whispered sweet lies into his ear.

But it wasn’t the same.

He couldn’t forget the feel of your skin beneath his hands, the way your body yielded to him without truly giving in.

He began to demand more of you.

More events, more nights, more of your time.

You obliged, of course. You always did. But there was a sharpness to your compliance, a silent defiance that drove him mad.

He found himself watching you obsessively, analyzing every movement, every word, every flicker of emotion that crossed your face.

And slowly, he began to see the cracks.

The way your hands clenched when you thought he wasn’t looking. The faint flicker of disdain in your eyes when you looked at him.

It was intoxicating.

He began to push you further, testing your limits, searching for the moment when you would finally break.

But you didn’t break.

You bent, yes—molded yourself to his demands, let him take what he wanted. But you never shattered.

And he hated you for it.

Hated you, and wanted you more than he had ever wanted anything.

He began to tighten his grip.

The other women disappeared, their presence no longer tolerable. You became his sole focus, the center of his world.

And yet, you remained distant.

Untouchable.

Until the night he decided enough was enough.

He cornered you in the penthouse, his eyes dark with something you couldn’t quite name.

“This isn’t a game, Sugar Baby,” he said, his voice low and dangerous.

You arched a brow, your expression calm. “I never said it was.”

Something snapped in him then, a dark, possessive urge that he could no longer suppress.

“You think you can keep this up?” he growled, stepping closer. “Think you can keep me at arm’s length forever?”

You didn’t respond, but your silence was answer enough.

He smiled then, a cold, predatory smile that sent a shiver down your spine.

“We’ll see about that,” he murmured, his hands closing around your wrists.

And in that moment, you knew—whatever this was, whatever it had been—it was no longer business.

It was war.