Page 211 of The Daddy P.I. Casefiles: The Second Collection
She shifts her weight and raises her arm, high and straight, extending her shoulder as though she’s saluting. Even with her sweet compliance, there’s always that touch of sass that makes me smile.
I buckle on her wrist cuffs, then instruct her to crawl over to the web while I move to where I’ve piled several hanks of rope on a rolling cart. Logan’s color selection is limited: black, red, and, of course, pink. I’ve ordered some blue cotton rope for Brenna, but it won’t be here until next week. When I was planning the scene, I liked the mental image of the black rope against Brenna’s skin, so that’s what I’ll bind her with, but Logan’s toy box yielded a surprise treasure: coconut fiber rope. That’s the first hank I pick up.
Returning to stand behind Brenna where she’s still on all fours at the base of the web, I take a moment to inspect her and push the plug more firmly into her ass, which gets me a pleasing whimper. “Stand,” I order. “Inspection position.”
She climbs to her feet shakily but lifts her arms, laces her fingers behind her head, and settles into the position, her shoulders relaxing. I reward her by pinching her nipples until they’re ruby-red again, before I begin winding the coconut rope around her ribs to make a chest harness. She twitches when shefeels the first bite of the rough rope, but says nothing and holds position, her head high and her cocky grin firmly in place.
I create a simple harness, then wrap the base of each breast to create compression. Her nipples are as stiff as pegs by the time I’m finished. Oh, this girl does like the bite. I debate clamps, but decide I’d rather suck her nipples during the scene when she does particularly well with the flogger and leave them unadorned.
Once the harness is done, I pull over a rubber-bottomed step from the chain station in the dry play area. I’m guessing Logan has Emily stand on it, since there’s a big difference in their heights. Brenna’s taller than Emily, but I still want to elevate her for the flogging, as well as give her the pleasure of suspension.
“Brenna, honor blindfold. Close your eyes and keep them closed until I tell you to open them.”
Her eyes dart to me and I see the faint quirk of nervousness, but she wiggles her shoulders to reassure herself before closing her eyes.
“Good girl. Hands down at your sides.”
She obeys and I take her left hand in mine. Her palm is sweetly damp and I rub my thumb over her knuckles to reassure her.
“Step up. I’ll guide you around, so you’re facing Logan with your back to the web. Then find your balance. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, sir.”
She lifts her left foot to find the low platform with her toes; once she does, she steps up confidently. The play of the low light over her colorful skin, the bunch and release of her long thigh muscles as she moves, the proud jut of her breasts in the harness, each image settles deep into my mind, filling some of the fractures uncollaring Amy left behind.
When Brenna’s steady on the step, I walk her around until she’s facing the door. I lean in and kiss her, nipping her lower lip, before taking both of her hands and lifting them high overhead. I pull her arms to full extension and attach her cuffs to the web with a heavy duty, double-ended, snap connector. Once she’s up on the web, her arms won’t be so stretched, but for now, I enjoy the natural bow of her body, running my hands down her arms and sides to cup her hips and press my erection against her belly.
That sassy grin appears. I lean in and nip her lower lip before I whisper, “Tell me that thought.”
“I’m glad this is turning you on, sir.”
“Everything about this is a turn on, bold girl,” I tell her between nips. “Everything aboutyouis a turn on.”
Her lips stretch into a full smile against mine. “Thank you, sir.”
“Ready to fly, pain slut?”
“Yes, sir.”
If her eyes were open, they’d be full of light, all those smudgy shadows gone. I want to see that, even if just for a moment.
“Brenna, open your eyes and look at me.”
She does, her eyes immediately lifting to mine. The light in them fills me, explodes inside my chest. My vision narrows. There’s nothing in the world beyond this. Just her. Just this cool, dim room, where I’m her god, where she’s my goddess, to worship, to hurt, to elevate and let fly.
“Beautiful,” I whisper against her lips. “Thank you, little goddess. Close your eyes and keep them closed for me.”
Those luminous brown eyes close, slowly, dreamily, and she tips her head up just slightly, wanting a kiss, which I give her until the ache in my cock and balls is so fierce that it shoots daggers into my gut. I nip her lips before I let her go and step back to rig her chest harness to the web.
Her ankle cuffs are last. Instead of attaching them with snaps the way I did her wrist cuffs, I bind them into the web, finishing with a Celtic square knot on the top of each foot to keep them prettily pointed. Smiling, I step back and drink in the sight of her bound in my web, supported by my ropes, floating against the weight of the gravity that daily drags us all down, smiling her cocky half-smile, and wholly relaxed.
It’s my job to take her up and up and up.
I move to the table where I’ve laid out the floggers for this scene. A pair of very special, moose hide floggers to warm her up. A braided, leather flogger to spread her wings. A heavy suede flail studded with rivets, which looks much more innocuous than it is, to send her flying.
I pick up one of the moose hide floggers. It has a distinctive, meaty smell, even tanned, and feels fantastic in my hands. I run the soft, heavy falls through my fingers to make sure there’s nothing caught in them. I haven’t used them for a scene in over a year, but I loaned them to Max recently so that he and his girl could try flogging with something that would give her all thud and no sting. He gave them back to me nicely brushed, but I always check anyway. I never want a stray sharp edge to hurt my bottom in a way I don’t intend.
After I’ve checked the other flogger, I take them over to Brenna and hold them close under her nose. She takes a deep breath, and a brilliant smile lights up her face. “That’s not deer, sir. What is it?”
