Page 210 of The Daddy P.I. Casefiles: The Second Collection
“Thank you, sir.”
“I’m going to give you very few choices tonight, bold girl. Give me permission to learn my way around your body in my own way, in my own time.”
Her breath catches and her elbows twitch forward before she catches herself and corrects her position. “I give you permission, sir.”
Her trust sends me soaring, and I let myself go. This feels so right.
“Good girl. Here’s one of the few choices I’ll give you. Do you want me to blindfold you before I restrain you?”
I’d prefer eye contact during this first real scene, but a repeated theme in Brenna’s favorite scenes and fantasies is loss of sight. That suggests sensory deprivation is something she needs, and I want to start fulfilling her needs. There’s also a strong appeal in taking away her sight and forcing her to focus on what I’m making her feel. I’m only giving her a choice because she’s so bold that she may be masking the fear it would be absolutely normal for her to feel submitting to an unknown sadist. Eye contact might help allay that fear, and, once she’s up on the web, she’ll also be able to see Logan monitoring the scene, which could give her comfort as well.
I’ll make whatever she chooses work.
She takes several breaths before speaking, which tells me she’s going through some of the same mental processes I did. I stroke her while she thinks, learning the textures of her body. Her belly and inner thighs are so silky, softer than baby skin. Her mons has that slight unevenness that tells me she shaves or waxes. I like hair to play with there but asking her to let it grow out is a way off. Something to look forward to.
“Sir, I feel stupid,” she whispers. “I want both. I know that’s not the choice you gave me?—”
“Dungeon rule, girl, nothing you say to me in here is stupid. I can give you both. Have you done honor bondage?”
“I’m not sure, sir.”
I glance at Logan because I’d expect a well-trained submissive to at least be trained in honor bondage, even if it’s not something she’s done in scenes. He shrugs his free shoulder, which reminds me that Logan didn’t train Brenna.
“We’ll talk about honor bondage another time. For this scene, when I tell you to close your eyes, you will do so and keep them closed until I give you permission to open them again. Breaking the honor blindfold carries the same consequence as the plug. Do you remember what that consequence was?”
She nods.
I give her a moment to answer aloud, then prompt with a corrective slap on her mons, “In scene, answer me verbally, please.”
“Sorry, sir. Yes, I remember the consequence. A strike of the Delrin on my ass for each infraction.”
“That’s right. Because this is new to you, you have one pass. Using it to test me would be... unwise.”
She shivers and I stroke her labia to double-check that all of this is turning her on. She seems to be deep in the scene, sinking into the perfect headspace, but it never hurts to check.
My fingertips slide across her slick, secret skin. Perfect.
I lift my gleaming fingers to her mouth. “Lick it off, slut.”
A stronger shiver runs through her and she squeezes her eyes closed but flicks out her tongue and licks each finger clean.
“Perfect girl,” I rumble in her ear and reward her by kissing her neck. She tips her head to the side to give me better access. I nip and suck, enjoying the soft resilience of her skin and the warm, buttery scent of her hair, leaving a livid trail of suck and bite marks that have her vibrating in my arms. She agreed to marks during our lunch, which is one of the many reasons I wanted to talk with her outside the heady excitement of a scene, when she might agree to things she regrets later. “Down on all fours now.”
She sags in the harness of my arms and I hold her steady until she folds down to her knees. Once she’s on all fours, I take the crop off my belt and tap her inner thighs until she spreads her knees a little wider, then tap the small of her back until she tips her hips up. When her pussy and plugged ass are perfectly displayed for me, I run the tongue of the crop up and down her spine as a reward.
“This is the position I want when you’re on hands and knees, girl. Got it?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Stretch out your left leg and hold your foot as high in the air as you can.” I’m testing her balance and flexibility with the position, but also making it easier on my almost fifty-year-old-back to put the ankle cuff on her.
She shifts her weight onto her bad hip a little gingerly but gets her foot as high as I could hope for. She might be flexible enough to touch her toes to the back of her head, which has my cock twitching with possibilities. For now, I pick up one of the padded cuffs and buckle it around her ankle, admiring the intricate tattoo of gray roses and tiny, colorful birds that coversher leg from mid-shin to toes. I tap her instep with the crop to let her know to lower her leg.
“Other leg. I understand you may not be able to get it as high.”
She can’t. There’s probably six inches difference. I’ll have to keep that in mind when I restrain her and ask her to hold positions. Once I’ve got the cuff buckled on, I stroke her calf, enjoying the silk of her skin. Tiny goosebumps rise under my fingertips. I love how responsive she is.
“Left arm now, good girl.”
