Negotiation: Daddy P.I. 0.5 by E Frost (e ink ebook reader .txt) 📗

tried to introduce my first Dom to my mother. It didn’t go well. After that, I didn’t try to mix my kinky life and my vanilla life.”

I stroke her soft hair. “I’m sorry about that, baby. I don’t think anyone should have to hide. Don’t be afraid to be open about it around my friends. They’re all very accepting, or I wouldn’t be friends with them.”

She nods. “And the other members of your club, they’re all Doms, right?”

“Um-hmm. Everyone you’ll meet tonight is either in the lifestyle or a guest who knows about it. Rick is a top, and the lady he’s bringing with him, Daisy Blue, is, too.”

“I’ve heard of her,” Emily says, then flushes a sunset red. “I mean—“

“You’ve watched some of her films,” I say gently.

“Yes, sir.”

Her voice is so small, and her cheeks are so red, my adorable, embarrassed baby doll.

“Did you like her films?”

Emily nods, biting her lower lip.

“Do you watch a lot of porn?” I ask gently.

“I watch some,” she admits. “Porn’s complicated for me.”

“It is, huh?” Porn seems pretty simple to me, but I’m not a woman and I can understand how a woman might see it differently. “Tell me why, baby doll.”

“I think people should be free to do what they want with their bodies,” she says slowly, and I can tell she’s considering each word. “That includes watching what they want to watch. And I understand that as long as there’s a demand for something, there will always be someone willing to provide it. I don’t condemn porn. Not the people who watch it, or the people who make it. And there is some I like. Where it’s respectful to the actors. But I feel that the industry as a whole exploits women. And some of the porn I’ve seen made me feel sick.”

That is complicated. “It exploits women by making them sex objects, or because what they do in the films is demeaning?” I ask.

“The first one, sir. I mean, as long as both parties want what’s happening, it’s not demeaning. I’m in no position to judge; lots of people would say what I want is demeaning.” She shrugs in a self-deprecating way I don’t like. I rub my hand up and down her arm until she continues, “Some of the films I’ve seen start or end with interviews. Those made me feel the best, no matter what happened in the film itself, because I felt like the actors were being treated like people instead of things.”

She didn’t list it on the contract she sent back to me, but it sounds like objectification might be out for her. “What made you feel sick?”

She inches a little closer and whispers in my ear. “Do you know what bukkake is?”

“I do. The Japanese are masters of weird-ass sex, aren’t they?”

“Totally. I mean, tentacle hentai, what’s up with that? But I don’t mind weird alien tentacle sex. Bukkake, on the other hand, eww. It’s creepy. All those guys standing around.” She shudders. “I also saw one video where the guy was, um, ramming his, uh, penis, down the girl’s throat. He’d stop every minute or so to let her vomit and then go back to it. That just, ugh, I couldn’t watch it. How could you even want to keep doing it when the girl’s just vomited? Big yellow chunks, too. It was so foul.”

No vomit, I make a mental note. Not that I find vomit a turn-on. “Yeah, you got me, there. Not much erotic about yellow chunks.”

That has the desired effect and she giggles. I curl her a little closer so I can kiss her forehead. “I’m proud of you, baby doll.”

“You are, sir? For telling you I think bukkake’s gross?”

“For not being judgmental. For remembering which words I don’t want to hear out of my baby girl’s mouth. And for your good taste when it comes to Japanese circle-jerking.”

She turns her face into my neck. Her lips brush my skin, then she draws back. “May I kiss you under your jaw again, sir?”

“You may. Good girl for asking. Very good girl.”

She buries her face in my neck and presses her mouth into the curve under my chin. I hold her there, enjoying her warmth and the softness of her lips on my skin. When I finally let her up, she asks, “Sir, what about you?”

“Do I think bukkake’s gross? It doesn’t bother me the way it does you, but I’ve never done it, or watched it. Nor do I plan to.”

“Oh, good. When you said you belonged to a gentlemen’s club, I thought maybe—“ She trails off.

I shake my head. “No circle jerking. You might see a Dom ejaculate on his sub during a scene now and then, but it’s not a regular thing. And so you’re not surprised, we have some women members, too, and one post-operative transsexual. ‘Gentlemen’ is an inclusive term in the twenty-first century.”

She smiles hesitantly. “What about porn? What do you think of it?”

I stretch and scratch the back of my head while I consider her question. “I think it’s always been around and always will be. You’re right that as long as there’s a demand, someone will supply it. So, until we evolve beyond sex, there will be porn. And maybe even then, look at all those tentacle creatures. They’re horny bastards.” That gets the giggle out of her that I want. “I don’t have any issue with people watching it, or making it. There’s a lot of porn that doesn’t do anything for me personally, but I don’t have a problem with it being out there. Different strokes for different folks. What I do have a major issue with is safety. I’ve stopped watching anything that’s not done with a condom. I think they should be mandatory. That’s a taboo subject for tonight, though. Rick’s against mandatory condom use. He’s got all kinds of reasons. Condoms break; they don’t prevent all STIs. He says it should be up to the parties involved.”

“Oh.” Emily’s