The Daddy P.I. Casefiles: The First Collection by Frost, J (great novels .txt) π
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She gives me those killer, big eyes. βI thought I just had to spit on them?β
βA spit shine might be good enough for some, but for Daddyβs things, they need a babyβs tongue.β
She giggles. βYes, Daddy.β
Her ebullience doesnβt abate even when I take her to the bathroom and instruct her to bend over the sink. She does it without hesitation. Thereβs no hint of the brat that appeared during our scene in the library. Sheβs sweet and compliant, giggly and playful. Is this still her little, just in a different mode? As I pull on a blue nitrile glove from the stash in my pocket, I ask her about it.
βBaby doll, when we were doing the scene in the library, what were you thinking about? Pull up your skirt and pull down your panties as you answer me.β
She does, wriggling a little as she works the band of her wet panties down her thighs. That sends a fresh spike of heat through my cock, which hasnβt stopped throbbing since I got her over my knees in the library.
βI wasnβt really thinking, sir,β she says. βI was just inside the scene. Did I do something wrong?β
βNo, you didnβt do anything wrong. You were amazing.β I rub her ass with my bare hand as I speak to her, gentle on the welts from my belt. With my gloved hand, I take a small plastic bag out of my pocket and set it on the tail of her flipped-up skirt. βMmm, you look gorgeous. Your pussyβs still flared and wet, and your legs are so pink. Beautiful.β I slip my fingers between her cheeks and stroke her labia until she squirms. Paddling my fingertips against her, I part her lips and tickle her clit.
She grabs the sink. βOh, yes, sir, yes.β
βDoes that feel good, honey baby? I didnβt pay much attention to your clit when I was finger-fucking you. Donβt worry, Iβve got plans for this sweet little clitty later.β
She writhes and I grin at how much a little dirty talk turns her on.
βYou are such a sweetheart, Emily, but you didnβt really answer my question.β
βWha-what was the question again, sir?β She presses her knees together and squirms on my hand.
βWhat were you thinking about while we were doing the scene? You had to be thinking of something.β
βI donβt know,β she says with a little wail. βI donβt want to get the answer wrong.β
βThereβs no right or wrong answer. Iβm just curious what was going on in your head. You were different during the scene. Defiant and sullen and so fucking bratty it made me want to beat you black and blue.β I press the plugβs base with my gloved fingers while I continue to play with her clit. I want her distracted, physically and mentally, when I take it out.
βDid you not want me to be, Daddy?β She lifts her head and looks at me in the mirror over the sink. Her little face is knotted with anxiety.
βEmily, relax. Weβre just recapping. Iβm interested in finding out about your headspace. I loved our scene and I want to do a lot more with you. Absolutely nothing Iβm saying is meant as criticism.β
βOh, okay.β She gives me a tentative smile in the mirror.
βWhile youβre telling me about where you went in your head during the scene, Iβm going to take out the plug. I want you to bear down when you feel the tug, okay?β
She nods. βLike the love beads.β
βThatβs right. Did they hurt coming out?β
βNo, they felt kind of good.β
βOnce youβre used to Morris, heβll feel good, too. Youβll want to be plugged.β
βOkay.β She doesnβt sound at all sure, and I gather that weβre not quite to that stage yet.
I grasp the jewelled base and gently pull back.
βOooh.β She arches her back. Then her shoulders drop as she bears down and the plug slides out.
βThatβs it. All done.β I slide the plug into the plastic bag, pull off my glove with my teeth so I can keep stroking her cunt with my other hand and toss the glove in with the plug. After sealing the bag, I pop it in my pocket. Iβll clean up later.
βThank you, Daddy. That didnβt hurt at all.β
βGood, baby doll. I donβt want it to hurt, just keep you focused. Now focus for me and tell me where that bratty, bratty girl came from?β
βInside me,β she says, her voice tiny. Her shoulders shake a little. I clasp her upper arm and draw her upright, still teasing her cunt with my fingers. I move in close behind her and pull her back against my body, crossing my arm over her and holding her while she settles.
βIs that your little?β I ask her, rubbing my cheek in her hair and speaking soft and low into her ear.
She nods, watching me anxiously again in the mirror.
βYour littleβs deliciously naughty, sweetheart. I want to play so hard with that naughty little girl.β
She bites her lip. βYou do? I didnβt make you angry? You seemed kind of annoyed.β
βI was only annoyed when I spanked you. Youβre not allowed to lie to me, or be disrespectful, even when youβre little.β At her wide-eyed nod, I continue, to reassure her. βBut I wasnβt angry the rest of the time. I was turned on by that naughty little who kept pouting at me. Iβm going to have so much fun playing with that little girl.β
βYou are?β Her eyes fill, but these arenβt sad tears. Theyβre liquid hope. She wants so badly to be able to let this deep part of herself out, to stop hiding it behind all the adult armor she wears, but sheβs afraid of censure. Someone, maybe many someones, have told her this part of herself is not okay. She needs me to make it safe for her.
And I will.
βYes, I am. How did you
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