The Daddy P.I. Casefiles: The First Collection by Frost, J (great novels .txt) π
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His words sizzle all through me, making everything from my nipples to my clit tingle. I didnβt even consider taking the clamps off during my shower. He said what he puts on, he takes off. Taking off the clamps myself would be like reaching for the check. Iβm never making that mistake again.
βUp on the bed, then, baby. Spread the towel out under you in case we make a mess and lie on your back with your head off the edge of the bed.β
βYes, Daddy.β I scramble to follow orders.
When Iβm arranged on the bed, lying on the towel, my head back, knees up, Logan joins me. He stands beside me at first, examining my position, sliding a pillow under my arched neck and another under my hips. Then he moves around behind me, his closed robe brushing my forehead. He strokes me with his big, warm hands, sliding them from my upraised knees to my inner thighs and back again a few times, before he trails his hands up my belly and cups my breasts. βHow do these feel?β he asks, squeezing my clamped nipples gently.
βOwie, Daddy.β
He chuckles, looking at me upside-down. I can guess why heβs put me in this position. Maybe throat training starts tonight. That thought makes all my nerves sizzle again.
βOwie, huh? Well, then, letβs get them off you.β
βYes, please.β
βMmm.β He slides his hand up and cups my throat again. βThatβs what I like to hear. Lots of pleases and thank yous from my grateful little girl. Can you be polite when youβre little? Or is your little only bratty?β
βNo, Daddy. I can be polite.β I can tell heβs trying hard to understand my little headspace. His efforts make me teary again.
βYou know what little girls say to be polite in England?β he asks, stroking my arched throat. He doesnβt put any pressure on it, which is good because Iβm already getting a head-rush.
βNo, Daddy.β
βLittle girls say βtaβ instead of βthank you.β Iβd like to hear that. Can you say it for me?β
βTa, Daddy.β
βThatβs right. When I take off these clamps youβre going to say βta very muchβ.β
I nod, working my throat against his hand.
He reaches down and unclamps my left nipple. I gasp as the blood rushes back into it. A little nuclear detonation going off in my tit. He presses his thumb against it, so hard I can feel the blood throbbing against his firm flesh. Blinking back tears, I gasp, βTa very much, Daddy.β
He grins. βYouβre welcome, baby doll. Iβm going to clamp your nipples often. Theyβre so pretty. Like little rosebuds.β
He plays with my freed nipple, stroking and tugging until I see stars and heat zings from my breast to my belly. Then he frees my right nipple and gives it the same treatment. I squirm helplessly on the towel, overwhelmed by all the sensations. Heβs tugging and rolling and pinching my nipples so hard my breasts feel fever-hot. The towelβs slightly rough against my abraded backside, and when I straighten my legs, the towel brushes sandpaper kisses over the sensitized skin of my calves. I whimper and Logan chuckles.
βI can smell you, gingerbread baby.β He releases my nipple and reaches down between my thighs to give my clit a little rub that has me arching up off the bed.
He can smell me? Even after my shower? I moan with embarrassment and feel even more heat rise to my face. Then a truly horrible thought hits me. βDo you even like gingerbread?β
He laughs, deep and masculine. The happy sound of a man about to get laid. His laughter makes me bubbly and warm and I donβt even need him to say, βI love gingerbread,β to reassure me.
βYou have the sweetest smell,β he continues. Then he lifts his fingertips to his mouth and licks them. βMm, and the sweetest taste. My gingerbread baby.β
He undoes the waist tie on his robe and lets it hang open. I have an upside-down view of his bronzed torso: firm chest and stomach, cut hips, the complicated heart, chain and anchor tattoo close to his trimmed, black curls, and hanging between his strong thighs, his distended cock.
His cock is beautiful. Having seen it erect, I know itβs curved and thick enough that heβll more than fill me. It is already flushed red, the glans extended, shaft heavy with veins.
βPlease may I touch you?β I ask, tentatively reaching for him.
βGood girl for asking.β He guides my hands to him, my fingertips to his balls, the other palm to his shaft. βA baby girl needs toys to play with, doesnβt she?β
I nod eagerly.
βThen these can be babyβs toys.β He groans as I rub his shaft and stroke his firm, dark sac. βWhat do you say?β
βThank you for my toys, Daddy.β None of my Doms have let me play with their bodies freely, or given me their cock and balls as toys.
βTa,β he reminds me.
I swallow hard. How could I forget? βIβm sorry, Daddy. Ta very much for my toys.β I wait to see if heβs going to punish me for forgetting, but he just smiles down at me. βCan I name them?β
He chuckles. βWhat makes you think they donβt have names already?β
Heβs named them? βPlease tell me their names.β I press my hands together in a βpretty pleaseβ gesture.
Logan guides my hands back to the parts in question before he answers, βFuzzie, Wuzzie, and Winky.β
He winks at me.
βNo, theyβre not, Daddy. Donβt tease.β
βCross my heart and hope to die.β He traces a cross over his heart with his forefinger before reaching down and cupping my face. βWould my baby girl like Winky in her mouth while Daddy warms her up?β
I nod and open my mouth hopefully. Logan chuckles and traces my lips with his fingertip. βMmm, little dry.β He reaches over to the night-stand, opens a drawer, takes out a tube of lip balm and applies it carefully to my lips while my heart swells in my chest.
βTa very much, Daddy,β I whisper earnestly when he finishes.
βYouβre
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