The Daddy P.I. Casefiles: The First Collection by Frost, J (great novels .txt) π
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βMmm, such an anxious face, little girl. Are you nervous or scared? You may elaborate.β
βI think more nervous, Daddy, but maybe a little bit scared.β
βTell me why.β
βI havenβt done anything with ginger before but, just from cooking with it, it seems like itβs going to burn the ever-loving, uh, heck out of my poor bottom.β
He chuckles. βItβs certainly going to tingle. I promise you that ginger doesnβt cause any lasting harm. Youβll feel the worst of the burn for twenty to thirty minutes. Afterwards you can tell me on a scale of one to ten which was hotter, the toothpaste or the ginger.β
I nod tremulously, my eyes still glued to the long, sure strokes of the knife as he removes the brown peel, exposing the yellowy meat. The gingerβs hot, fresh scent fills the room.
βSmell that, baby?β
βYes, Daddy.β
βThat smellβs what made me think of this for the second part of your reward. Sleeping with you after weβve had sex is like sleeping in the worldβs best bakery, my gingerbread baby.β
I smile, even as I wonder what my butt will smell like after Iβve had a stick of ginger up it for forty-five minutes. Iβm guessing it wonβt smell like baked goods.
βI can see all sorts of thoughts moving through your eyes, little love. Are any of them what I want you thinking about?β
What does he want me thinking about? Oh, right, the journey. βNo, Daddy.β
βWhy have I put you on speech restriction, Emmy? You know I find what you have to say interesting. Iβm depriving myself of that so you can focus on your reward. Can you do that for me?β
βYes, Daddy.β
I breathe out slowly. Concentrating, I shut out the hundreds of distractions swirling around in my brain like a hurricane. I focus on my position, how wonderfully controlled it makes me feel. I take a deep lungful of the ginger-scented air, let the smell fill me, and think of being his gingerbread baby. A warm rush of pleasure and gratitude heats my chest.
βThatβs much better. Your whole body relaxed. More comfortable now?β
βYes, Daddy.β
I am. I was beginning to feel the strain of the position in my knees, hips, and shoulders. As soon as I shut out doubts and distractions, my aches subside. I feel the little pleasures of the position: the stretch in my arms, the slight scratch of the towel against my skin, the cool air around my exposed bottom.
Daddy sets the piece of ginger heβs carved on the towel next to me. Itβs the rough size and shape of Morris, the butt plug he started my training with. I understand now why he wanted a finger of the ginger, so that thereβs a thicker part that stays in me, a narrower neck my sphincter will close around, and another wide part that will sit on the outside. The care with which Loganβs planned this sends another flood of warmth from my head to my toes. I want to thank him, but Iβm on speech restriction, so I file it away for later.
I figure heβs going to put the fig in my bottom now, but he doesnβt. He picks up the big hunk of ginger and carves off a much smaller piece. He peels it for a moment before he asks, βAny idea what this is for, baby doll?β
βNo, Daddy.β
βThis is a piece for your clit. Those naughty Victorians realized ginger is an aphrodisiac as well. Perfect for masochistic little girls who like pain with their pleasure and pleasure with their pain.β
His words make me shiver deliciously, even while the idea of a piece of ginger on my clit makes every muscle clench in trepidation.
He finishes removing the thin skin, cuts the piece in half, and sets the two slivers next to the much bigger fig.
βThis time, weβll just put a piece on the hood of your clit. Maybe next time weβll tuck a piece inside the hood. Really up the sensation. But this is enough for your first time.β He puts the big piece of ginger back in a bowl of water on the nightstand, cleans off the knife with a baby wipe, then cleans his hands. βIβll be careful not to touch your face until Iβve given my hands a good scrub. Ginger in the eyes or nose is not a burn you want.β
I nod and smile to show that I understand, and I appreciate him being careful with me.
He picks up a nitrile glove and pulls it on before holding his fingers to my mouth. βLick, little girl. Get them nice and wet. Iβm going to open your bottom before I put the fig in. Lube keeps the ginger oil from interacting with your tissues, so lube is out, but I donβt want to push the fig into you dry.β
Thatβs an incentive. I work up a mouthful of saliva and lick and press as much of it into his gloved fingers as I can. They drip when he slides his fingers out of my mouth. I hope thatβs enough.
He holds my eyes as he reaches around to part my cheeks and rub his wet fingertips around my sphincter. I fall into the heat and power of those dark eyes. As my muscles relax, my body flattens naturally onto the bed, my bottom tipping up. I see approval light his eyes even before his growl fills my ears.
βThatβs my good girl. Now youβre in the right place. Not overthinking it. Just feel, sweet baby.β
My eyelids are getting so heavy itβs hard to maintain eye contact. I blink and try to keep them open against the thick, delicious, filthy pleasure of his fingers pushing into my forbidden place. Shivers run through me. I wish I could control them, but the only thing keeping me still is the position. Realizing Logan probably put me into it for exactly that reason makes me shiver harder.
I want to tell him how much I appreciate the way he
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