The Daddy P.I. Casefiles: The First Collection by Frost, J (great novels .txt) π
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βI donβt think youβve learned any manners yet, Mrs. Black. Answer my questions politely.β
βGet off me! Get off me!β I kick my legs up, trying to break his hold, but heβs got me firmly over his knees, my head pinned to the couch by his grip in my hair.
βAnswer my questions.β
βYes, I loved him, and yes, I feel betrayed.β
He wallops my left cheek. βAgain.β
βYes, I loved him, and yes, I feel betrayed.β
Another wallop that has me wailing. βAgain.β
βYes, I loved him, and yes, I feel betrayed!β
Somewhere in the heavy slaps and the snuffling tears and the repeated questions, I forget this is about the Blacks and it becomes about me and Ashley. I did love him once. He was my first love. My Prince Charming. My forever man. Every time we had cold, passionless sex, it singed my heart. Every time he gave me a cool brush of his lips, instead of a real kiss, it made my soul curl up and die a little more. But I never said a word. It was my marriage; I was supposed to make it work.
To sit in my doctorβs office and have her explain to me that the pain in my belly and the blood in my pee wasnβt a bladder infection, or the terrible fear Iβd lived with silently for days, cancer, but rather chlamydia, broke me. I felt beyond betrayed. I was destroyed. Futureless and completely adrift in a world I was never comfortable in anyway. Ashley made me feel a part of something. Of us. Even if us wasnβt perfect, I was still part of it.
Without him, I was part of nothing.
I lose the count somewhere after two hundred. Iβm sobbing blindly, barely able to answer the questions he asks over and over. Heβs counting for me since I canβt speak, still all on my left cheek, which feels beyond burned, beyond bruised. Even the feather of his breath across it makes me flinch and whimper.
Logan puts his hand in the small of my back and tugs back on the hand he has in my hair. βNow letβs hear some thanks.β
I donβt know if Mrs. Black could endure any more, but I canβt. βThank you, Sir.β
I donβt say βtaβ because whatever it is weβre doing, Iβm not his little girl right now and he is totally not my daddy.
βGood. Youβve told me no six times, while youβve been learning your lesson, so that will be ten for each and a thank you.β
He spanks my unmarked cheek sixty times while I sob uncontrollably. Iβve never been spanked this thoroughly. Not so hard and for so long. At the end of each ten, he has me thank him and answer the questions again. Iβm not even sure what my answers are, Iβm crying so hard.
After the sixth thank you, he stops, but doesnβt release me. βDo you still love Ashley?β
I blubber. βWhat?β
βTen. Count.β He doesnβt even pause for breath before hitting me ten more times. I shudder and sob through each strike.
After the tenth, he says, βWhat do you say?β
βThank you, Sir!β Iβm not getting that wrong, no matter what Mrs. Black would fucking do.
βAnswer me this time. Do you still love Ashley?β
Did I say his name? I must have. βNuh-no, Sir.β
βGood girl. Do you still feel betrayed?β
βYuh-yes, Sir. That never goes away.β
βGood girl, Emily.β
Heβs calling me by my name again. Thank the Lord.
βIβm proud of how honest you are,β he says.
He leans over me, enclosing my body with his. He holds me like that for several minutes, until my shaking stops, although I canβt stop the tears. Then he whispers in my ear. βI want to be honest with you, Emily. I want to be as honest with you as youβve been with me. More honest than Iβve ever been with anyone, even though it might send you running. Youβve earned it.β
I nod. Itβs all I can manage.
βThrough all of this, Iβve been thinking about my sister. She was clumsy. She hurt herself more times than I could count when we were kids. Scraped knees and bruises and, once, a chipped tooth. I was her big brother. I was the one who picked her up and kissed away her tears and made it better. But she made me angry, too. I wanted to put her over my knee and spank the carelessness out of her. Sheβs the first girl I wanted to spank.β He rubs his hand over my fevered ass cheeks, and I canβt control a whimper. βI called her, after the interview was over, just to hear her voice. I wanted to hear her say Iβm the best brother in the world. Thatβs what she always tells me. Sheβs told me thousands of times. But I donβt believe her. You know why?β When I shake my head, he takes a deep breath and says, βBecause for years, I dreamed of spanking her until her ass was as red as yours is right now. I dreamed, fuck, I canβt believe Iβm telling you this. I dreamed of pushing her down and fucking her between those bright red cheeks.β
He wanted to fuck his sister? Is that what this is about?
βD-did you?β I ask softly, praying he says no but bracing myself for a yes. If Iβve finally found Loganβs flaw, this is a monster-sized one. Heβs right, this is what could send me running, no matter how wonderful he is otherwise.
βNo, of course not,β he says, and my heart thuds back into a painful rhythm. βBut I wanted to. I thought about it. Dreamed about it. And today, when I was interviewing Mrs. Black, it all came back. I havenβt thought about Lizbeth that way in years. But there it was again. As fresh as when I was a kid. It made me feel betrayed, by my own brain.β
Now his questions make sense.
βSir, you are the best brother in the world.β I snuffle and wipe my face. βI wish Iβd had a brother
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