The Daddy P.I. Casefiles: The First Collection by Frost, J (i love reading txt) 📗

“Yes, Daddy.”

She gives me the big eyes and I draw her to me so I can kiss her on the forehead.

“I’m not angry at you, sweetie. Just because I tell you the next time will be discipline, doesn’t mean I’m mad at you. I’m just giving you fair warning.”

“You sounded annoyed.”

“Okay, I was a little annoyed.” I tap the tip of her nose with my forefinger until she smiles. “I know you’re just trying to make sure our guests have a good time, but Daddy decides what’s important for you to focus on, right?”

She nods and the big-eyed anxiousness calms a notch.

“And Daddy’s telling you the important things for you to focus on this weekend are Daddy and yourself, not everyone else. Agreed?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

I can see her relaxing word by word. Emily tries so desperately to please me, and her mood rides on whether she feels she’s succeeded or failed. It’s important for me not to let small irritations bloom into something larger. It’s a good reminder for me as a Dom and a daddy: I need to be in control of myself before I try to control her.

“Good girl. Do as I told you.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

I have no doubt she’ll not only remember but follow my instructions to the letter. I leave her to get on with it while I set up some music and run the bath. The honeymoon suite’s bathroom is sumptuous, with a whirlpool bath that could probably seat four comfortably. Maybe they get a lot of poly groups. The unicorn bubbles are mostly just iridescent, but they smell good, like cherries and vanilla. Although I generally like Emily not to smell strongly, particularly when we’re about to do a scene, I don’t mind this scent. It’s like a cherry pie, and there are worst things than eating my little cherry pie.

When Emily trots in, adorably naked except for her pink bunny slippers, I’ve got the bath run and equipment for the scene ready, lined up on the sink counter. Emily stops dead when she sees the distinctive bag and nozzle.

“Da-daddy, I didn’t break a rule,” she stammers.

“This isn’t discipline, baby doll. Or even a correction. By accepting my collar this weekend, you’re giving Daddy everything. That starts with Daddy controlling every part of you, inside and out.” I pat the bag. “I also want to go back and forth between your pussy and your ass tonight and my baby has to be super-super clean for that.”

Those hazel eyes could swallow the world. Last week, we negotiated our contract again before the collaring. She asked to take pictures of her in sexual positions off her hard limits list, which was easy to agree to, and I asked her to think about taking ass-to-vagina off her limits list. She agreed on the proviso that I could make sure there was no risk of infection. So she’s probably known this was coming, but I don’t think she expected it quite so soon. Her expression is adorably conflicted.

“Are you worried about infection, sweetie?”

Her brow unknots a little. “No, Daddy. I know you’ll take care of me.”

Warm blooms in my chest. “Then why the worried face?”

I know why the worried face. I just want her to articulate it.

“I’m not—I haven’t had an enema from someone else before. I’m worried it’s going to be messy.”

“I see. Does Daddy take care of his little girl’s messes?”

She nods. “But this is really gross messy.”

“I’ve given enemas before, sweetheart. I know what to expect. If I couldn’t handle it, I wouldn’t ask you to do it. Who is in charge of you, little girl?”

The tightness around her eyes and mouth eases. “You, Daddy.”

“That’s right. So, you don’t need to be worried about this, do you?”

“No, Daddy. I’ll try not to worry.”

“That’s my good girl. Come and bend over the edge of the bath so Daddy can get the solution into you and then you can sit in the bath for ten minutes while it works.” I pat a pair of towels I’ve put down. “The hot water will help with the cramping. Daddy takes care of his girl, doesn’t he?”

She nods. “Yes, Daddy.”

She folds herself down and positions her knees on the towel I’ve put down to soften the tile, her tummy on the other towel. Her back is as tight as a board. I rub her hip, fingering the healed, two moon brand I gave her last month, to help her relax.

“Dangle your fingers in the water and play with your unicorn bubbles, my baby.”

I hear little splishes as she does and the rigidity of her back softens slightly.

So she’s not obsessing about mess, I wipe her down first with baby wipes. Emily’s on psyllium-husk pills that clean her out naturally and we used suppositories the first few times we had anal sex, but I’ve never given her an enema before. The heightened sense of control has my blood singing in my ears and my dick throbbing. I brush my distended length against the backs of her legs as I move around her, readying a hook for the bag on the towel rack next to the tub, squirting lube on the nozzle and drizzling it down her crack. She shivers and goosebumps ripple across her back and buttocks.

I rub her soft skin to soothe the goosebumps. “You’re not chilly, are you, sweetheart?”

I don’t think she is. The room’s pleasantly warm and steamy. I just like emphasizing her body’s reactions, so she focuses on what she’s feeling instead of the worries that are crowding into her thoughts.

“No, Daddy.”

“I love seeing you like this, little girl. Bent over and waiting for what Daddy’s going to give you.”

She shivers again. “Yes, Daddy.”

I rub my fingers up and down her crack, dipping into her hole. The nozzle’s small and I don’t need to open her up to take it. I just love playing with my girl’s sensitive holes. She lifts her bottom to my touch, the fine muscles of her ass and