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

“I asked you if you did months ago and you said you didn’t.”

Daddy’s forehead beetles with a frown. “I don’t remember that.”

I realize why he doesn’t remember and kick myself. It was when he was injured. “Doesn’t matter, Daddy.”

“It matters because I don’t remember what you told me. Do you believe in ghosts, sweetie?”

“Weeell, I believe in something. I’m not sure if it’s ghosts or psychic echoes or what, but I think there’s a lot of things science can’t explain.”

Daddy lifts an eyebrow at me as he lays the bag on the bed and unzips it. Colors explode out of the bag: teal green, deep purple, eye-searing orange.

“Daddy,” I breathe.

“You can’t have a Mad Hatter’s Tea Party without a Mad Hatter.” He says, taking a purple velvet top hat out of the bag and spinning it on his finger.

I called it the Mad Hatter’s Tea Party on the invitations for the littles, so they’d feel free to dress up any way they wanted and so Laurel wouldn’t feel out of place if she wanted to be scaly. But I never, ever expected Daddy to dress up as the Mad Hatter.

“Daddy, that’s so cool.”

He draws striped black and teal trousers up his long legs. They have bell bottoms that flare high above his ankles. A bright red dress shirt gets tucked into the trousers and Daddy buttons an orange waistcoat over it before shrugging on the purple and red checked jacket. He hands me a long strip of black cloth that’s dotted with eyes. I loop it around his neck and tie a big loopy bow in front. He plonks the top hat on his head and spins in a slow circle so I can see him.

“How do I look, baby doll?”

“Frabjous, Daddy.”

He chuckles. “Cynnie sent me pages of instructions. There are shoes and socks, too, but I think I’d rather go barefoot.”

“I’m just going to wear socks, Daddy.”

“Are you going to get ready now?”

I nod. “Will you dress me?”

“Aw, little girl, I’d love to. Bring me your outfit.”

I pull the bag out of the closet and lay it out on the bed next to his. Daddy unzips the bag and draws out my outfit with a big smile. He turns it around in his hand and shakes it at me so the fluffy, white tail wiggles.

“That should be a butt plug,” he says.

“I couldn’t find one with a butt plug, Daddy.” Which is true. It’s also true I didn’t look very hard or try to modify the outfit myself. As soon as I saw it, I thought it was perfect. Cynnie called it a fairy bunny: a fitted white bodysuit trimmed with hot pink, fake fur, the cotton ball tail, white lace gloves that go almost to my shoulders and matching thigh highs. There’s a black waistcoat that goes over the bodysuit, complete with pocket watch and gold chain, and a black bowler hat with fluffy white and pink ears. Daddy helps me into the costume piece by piece, kissing each bit of skin before he covers it with clothes and I’m so loved up I can’t stand still by the time he’s settling the hat on the top of my head.

“Spread your legs and pull the bodysuit aside, little girl. I want to lick your pussy.”

Now I can’t stand up. I follow Daddy’s instruction and grab on to the bed’s poster when he dives in on my clit with his tongue. He licks me with long strokes until my legs are trembling and my belly’s clenching.

He puts his palm flat on my tummy and rubs to calm me down while giving me soft kisses on my mons.

“Good girl. Now I can go down to the tea party with your taste in my mouth.”

That idea makes me glow as he takes my hand and leads me downstairs.

Martyn’s set up the Mad Hatter’s Tea Party in the “sunroom,” an old, glass greenhouse that juts at a right angle off the main inn. The greenhouse is a little dilapidated, with lots of cracked panes and old, wooden racks along the glass walls that must have once held plants. Half of the greenhouse floor is printed concrete, green with age, and the other half is mossy loam that will be soft to run around on, although it will probably stain my socks something rotten. Martyn’s set up card tables and folding chairs on the concrete pad with wonderfully mismatched plates and cups and silverware amongst blowsy bouquets of hearts playing cards and poppies, brilliant in the sunlight. I dance around the tables, taking it all in.

“What do you think, little girl?” Daddy asks.

“It’s perfect, Daddy!”

“Would you like to call everyone together?”

I nod and rush back out into the inn where I stand at the bottom of the central staircase and shout, “Don’t be late! Don’t be late! For a very important date!”

I hear giggles from several directions. Yumiko, in a green and purple dinosaur onesie, emerges from the bar, followed by her daddy, Bravo, several of the Blunts house subs, and Luisa and Vic. Doors upstairs open and close and Vashi appears in a hot pink and red sari. She’s followed by Shaan in a bright blue linen suit. She smiles at him as he offers her his arm and they sweep down the stairs. As I’m admiring them, Sammi and his daddy, Jack, appear from the back of the inn, carrying a huge cake between them. It’s as big as a table itself and frosted in glowing colors.

“Not yet, Emmy, it’s a surprise,” Sammi says.

“Okay!” I scamper back into the greenhouse and hide behind Daddy, tucking my face into his jacket.

“What’s this, little girl?”

“Sammi and Jack are bringing a cake in but it’s supposed to be a surprise.”

“It’s a surprise to me, too. And since I ordered a cake, on top of everything Martyn insisted on serving, there will be lot and lots of cake.”

That sends me into wild giggles, but I actually love the