No

When you lower the phone, Mr. Jackson smiles.

"See? I told you. Now, take off those clothes, slut, and let me see how you look in that bikini." He says, his cock still hard against his slightly overweight stomach

A rush of heat rises into your face and chest as you realize you are going to do whatever this man tells you to do, and more than that, you want to.

Wordlessly, you slide your shirt off over your head, and undo your pants, sliding them to the floor.

"Damn, you fill that little thing out like you were made to wear it." He says, stepping closer, his eyes roving over your nearly naked form.

"Thank you, sir." You say, knees starting to shake slightly

He walks over to you, pouring some baby oil gel into one hand, and stroking his cock with it as he does, his eyes still roving over you.

"I told you to call me Daddy. Your other choice is 'Master'. Your call."