The Daddy P.I. Casefiles: The First Collection

by Frost, E J

  Emily swallows and nods. “They spread bad rumors about her. They stole her gym shirt and passed it around in class so everyone could laugh at how it smelled. They stole her tampons from her locker and pointed it out to all the boys when she bled through her jeans.”

  Each word sinks in my stomach like a stone. I understand finally why Emily finds her body disgusting. I want to kill the girls who did this to her, even though I know expulsion must have been a major punishment. It’s not enough.

  “That must have been terrifying. The girl was very, very brave. Her daddy thinks so. Do you think so?”

  “Kinda.”

  She doesn’t. Another thing to work on. I’ve found out a great deal about Emily in a short time; she must be feeling very vulnerable. Time to bring the questioning to a close, but there’s one more thing I need to know. “Emmy, did the girl cut herself to cope with the bullying?”

  Emily grinds her face into my thigh so hard I have to grit my teeth to keep from grunting at the pain.

  “Yes,” she whispers.

  “Okay, baby, okay. All done now. You’ve been a very good girl to share so much. Look at me.” I wait until she lifts her head and stroke her cheeks, wiping away the tears. “I understand what happened in the bathroom. It’s all over. All forgiven and behind us. We’re going to add soaping and facial immersion to your hard limits and we’ll be careful with deep-throating and breath play—”

  “But I like deep-throating,” she protests, blinking up at me. “I only didn’t like it today because the condom tasted gross and made me feel sick to my stomach.”

  “Did you—did the girl vomit sometimes when her head was flushed?”

  Emily nods miserably.

  No wonder she lost it. This was a perfect storm of triggers.

  “We’re not stopping, sweetheart. I’m not making it a hard or soft limit. We’ll just be careful.”

  Her arms tighten around my hips. “All during class I was thinking about how I was going to demonstrate on you later. I’m not bad at it, Daddy. I mean, I’ve been told I’m not bad at it and I thought it would make you happy and maybe you’d give me your gift again. But then it all went to, um, heck, and I couldn’t stop the dominoes.”

  I rub my thumb over her plush bottom lip and, when she opens, give her my thumb to suck. It’s fine if she goes into littlespace now. We’re done with the emotional surgery for the night.

  “I absolutely want that demonstration.” I cup my hand around the back of her neck and draw her to me so I can touch her forehead with mine, even though my back screams bloody murder. “But we’re going to save it for later. I have other plans for tonight. I will come in your mouth again, sweetheart, but not tonight. That’s not a reflection on you. Okay?”

  “Yeth, Daddy,” she mumbles around my thumb.

  When I release her and straighten to ease my back, she blinks up at me with such adoration it winds me. I bask in it for a long minute. This isn’t the first time I’ve gotten a sub over a major emotional hurdle and received an adoring glance. But this is more. Much, much more. Emily’s so emotionally honest, and there’s a depth to the connection growing between us I haven’t felt before. I know it’s much too soon to be slapping labels on what either of us is feeling. I know that sub-frenzy is a thing; it might be my dominance Emily’s falling for rather than me. But this feels like more.

  It feels weighty, deep, and substantial.

  I’m not going to name this feeling now or make Emily try to articulate it. There’s no reason to push. I’ll just treasure it: tucking away this moment of pure connection and congratulating myself on what feels like a huge leap across the minefield.

  Emily smiles shyly around my thumb. Although her emotional shutters don’t come down, the intensity of the moment lightens.

  “First impression of Knee Time?”

  “Hard,” she mumbles. “But good.”

  My feelings exactly.

  “It won’t always be this intense but we’re going to do it regularly. We’ll start with every third night while we’re on the cruise and re-evaluate when we get home. I want to add it to our contract, too.”

  “Okay.”

  “Good girl. Go wash your face. I’m going to set up the movie and we’re just going to relax until bedtime.”

  She grins and releases my thumb with a little kiss before trotting off to the bathroom.

  * * *

  I clap my hand over Emily’s mouth and growl into her ear. “Scream all you want, Princess. You’re my captive and I’m going take what I want, savvy?”

  I feel Emily giggle against my palm. I poke her in the ribs.

  “I take back what I said about you going so deeply into character during a scene, little girl.”

  That gets me a peal of giggles. “I can’t be serious when you talk like a pirate.”

  “Captain Daddy demands respect, you scallywag, or he’ll make you walk the plank. Or at least suck it.”

  Hysterical giggles. I’m about to abandon any attempt at a scene and just pounce on Emily and fuck her senseless because I’ve hit sexy-cute overload looking at her in the ruffled nightgown and white stockings as she sprawls across the bed. My lack of self-control would probably lose me my Dom card in Niall’s eyes, again, but neither of us needs any more emotional gravity. Tonight can just be playful and fun.

  Then she gets her giggles under control, widens her eyes and tries to scramble away from me.

  “There’s nowhere to run,” I growl at her.

  She tries anyway. When I corner her, she changes tactics and throws herself at me, pounding, not very hard, on my shoulders with her little fists. “Let me go! I’m a princess! Don’t you dare touch me, bad man!”

  Game on.

  I spin her around and push her up against the wall. I cup one hand between her legs, pulling her back against my erection, rubbing hard between her ass cheeks. With my other hand, I find her breast and give her nipple a wicked pinch through the soft nightie, eliciting an adorable squeak.

  “Don’t touch you? Don’t touch you like this?”

  She wriggles and pushes ineffectually at my hands. “Get off! No one touches a princess.”

  “I’ll touch you any way I want.” I grip her so tightly she squeals. Dragging her up my body so she’s off her feet, I march her the few steps to the bed and throw her onto the mattress. I follow her down, crushing her under my weight, pinning her nape with one hand. As I press her cheek to the covers, I run my free hand all over her, rumpling the nightie, while she struggles and shrieks. “Feel me touching you, Princess?”

  “No, no, no, get off! Bad man!”

  I love her tone, halfway between indignant and giggly. Little cutie. I sweep her hair off one shoulder so I can kiss the soft, bare skin of her neck and shoulder. I nip her a few times to keep her over the line into indignant, and a few more when she gives a happy little squeal at the pinch of my teeth.

  “I’m gonna get off,” I growl into her shoulder. “I’m gonna get off right up inside you, Princess.”

  “No, no, no! Leave me alone, bad man!”

  She tosses and twists but I hold her down. Her ass and thighs provide delicious friction as she struggles. I tug up the nightie to bare her cane-striped thigh and round little ass. Fuck, that ass. I rub it with my palm, intoxicated by the feeling of her velvety skin, while I dry-hump her. Her struggles fade to happy wriggles.

  To keep her at least nominally in the scene, I give her a slap on the ass. There’s no force behind it. It’ll barely turn her skin pink. But it gets her back over the line to indignant.

  “You can’t spank a princess! Get off me!”

  A few more spanks ramp her up nicely. I work my hand under her and cup her mons to test her response to the scene. Sweet wetness. Sliding my fingers along the crease of her hip makes her giggle again and, suddenly, the most important thing in the world is for me to hear her laughter. I yank her nightie up, so it tangles around her arms and attack her ribs with my fingertips.

  She goes wild
, squealing and thrashing and giggling so madly I worry about her hyperventilating again. I pin her for a moment to make sure she’s okay, and when she murmurs, “Daddy?” in a husky whisper that rushes straight to my head and then to my balls, I tickle her unmercifully. When she tries to pull free of the nightie, I tickle her through it, while she screams and bucks. I work her legs apart as I stretch over her, and, when her thrashing puts her in a good position, I shove my pajama pants down, grab her hips to hold her still and sink into her. Wonderful, wet heat. I crush her down into the bed, her body small and soft beneath me. There is nothing better than fucking my little girl. Her giggles turn into throaty moans. I keep my thrusts slow, giving her time to adjust to my weight and the friction. I want this to be fun and playful and sweet.

  While I’m fucking her, rocking my body over hers, I smooth my hands over the damp, rumpled nightie tangled around her head and upper arms. Impromptu bondage. Tugging the hem down until I uncover her face, I kiss her cheek. She peers up at me through the wealth of ruffles, grinning.

  “All good, little girl?”

  “Super-good, Daddy.”

  “Ready for a pounding, Princess?”

  “Princesses don’t get pounded.”

  “This princess is about to get pounded through the mattress, so brace your little self.”

  That gets me a giggle, and then a squeak as I spread my knees to push her legs wide, pick up the pace and give her the promised pounding. I stretch the nightie across her shoulders and arms to keep her pinned, gather a handful of cloth and hair, and hold tight. She responds to the restraint the way she always does, wiggling gleefully, lifting her ass so every thrust takes me deeply, pushing back so she impales herself. Her giggles and happy moans are interspersed with squeals of “Daddy!” when I go up onto my elbows and toes to piston into her. As soon as I feel her come, her body arching up under me, gasps turning into breathy screams that fill my ears, I clasp her throat, throwing her higher, stretching out her orgasm. I follow her, letting the hard tattoo of my hips against her ass, the sweet grasp of her pussy around my shaft, carry me over the white-hot edge.

  The first spurts are pure heat, nerves on fire, undistilled, raw release. Then an entire volcano bursts out of my cock while I roar into her shoulder. My orgasm goes on and on, past bliss, into pain. I’m sure I’m shooting dry, and Emily’s sweet cunt still milks me, and I keep coming, fucking galaxies burning their way up through my balls and erupting out of my dick, until I collapse over her, spent.

  She giggles breathlessly.

  I can’t help but laugh with her, even while I’m gasping.

  “What in the fuck was that?” I groan. “Crazy fucking galactic come.”

  Deranged giggles from my little girl. “That’s what happens when you watch Star Wars before sexytimes, Daddy.”

  “You little monkey.” I untangle her from her nightie, smooth it down so she doesn’t stick to me, and roll to the side, keeping her impaled. I wrap her in my arms and squeeze her tightly, wanting to feel every bone, every angle and curve of her, imprinted on me.

  “Sorry, I wasn’t a very good princess.” She wraps her little hands around the hand I have between her breasts and kisses my knuckles. “Getting ravished by Captain Daddy seemed like a lot more fun than fighting him off.”

  I chuckle. “Not even a little bit of a problem. It’s good for us to just have fun.”

  “Ta, Daddy. I love when you’re a wolfy-daddy, all fierce and bitey, but I also love when Captain Daddy plays silly games with me.”

  I kiss her soft head. “Captain Daddy will make lots of future appearances, don’t you worry. Isn’t ‘Talk Like A Pirate’ Day coming up? Captain Daddy will definitely make an appearance for that. And he’ll be bringing lots and lots of rope.”

  She giggles and snuggles back into me and her movement finally dislodges my dick. I tuck her nightgown between us and tug up my pajama bottoms with a sigh, sorry to lose my perfect sheath.

  Since it feels like we’re settling down, even though it’s still early, I have her grab her tablet and read me a bedtime story. Moving us toward the routine I want for bedtime. The story she reads me is short, mostly pictures that are in surprisingly good resolution on her little reader. The little boy in the story spends most of it naked, when he’s not being baked in a cake, or flying around in an airplane. It ends with the little boy snuggled back in bed, and when I ask Emily, she tells me it’s one of her favorite bedtime stories because it gives her good dreams.

  I spoon her and cuddle her, making sure the sheets and comforter are tucked in around her.

  “I love sleeping with you, Daddy,” she murmurs. “Ta very much for letting me.”

  “Have you not slept with your other Doms?”

  “Um, no.” She sounds very sleepy. “I slept with Lew. He was my first Dom. But he wanted me to sleep on the floor. It made my hips ache something rotten, so I made excuses not to stay over. Since him, I usually met up with my Doms for scenes. Not night after night like this. I love it. It makes me feel so safe.”

  I nuzzle the back of her head. “I want you to feel safe, sweetheart, and I love sleeping with you, too. I won’t ask you to sleep on the floor if it hurts your hips.” That sounds like a one-way ticket to arthritis. “I might cage you for a few hours at a time, though. Have you been caged before?”

  She shivers. “No, Daddy.”

  “Would you be afraid, little girl?” The spice of her fear shoots straight to my dick, which gives a little jerk. I cannot possibly get hard again after that galactic-gasm.

  She nods. “Crazy afraid.”

  “Would you endure it for me? Would you be Wonder Woman brave?”

  She rolls over and slides her arms around my neck, looking anxiously into my face. “You won’t leave me alone in the dark again?”

  Again? “When did I leave you alone in the dark?”

  “This afternoon. When you went to talk to Dr. Lehmann. You pulled the curtains and it was really dark.”

  Fuck, I hadn’t realized. I cuddle her close. “I’m so sorry, baby. Were you afraid? Is that why you got up and went out to the balcony?”

  She nods.

  “Oh, sweetheart. You’ve really had a bad day, haven’t you?” At her nod, I kiss her forehead. “I’ll be very careful not to leave you alone in the dark again. If it wasn’t dark, would you still be afraid of being caged?”

  “Really, really afraid. I don’t like closed spaces, and I’d be scared you’d leave me and never come back.”

  “I would never leave you when you’re caged. I will always be able to see and hear you, even if you can’t see and hear me. But I understand you’ll be frightened, but I still want you to bear it for me, little girl.”

  “I’ll try.”

  I cup her head and look into her eyes. “Do, or do not, sweetheart, there is no try.”

  “Yoda’s even more of a dork than Superman, Daddy, but I’ll do it for you.” Her shiver shakes her whole body against me. “I’ll be Wonder Woman brave.”

  “That’s my girl.” I kiss her forehead. “Your submission means everything to me, Emmy. It’s kept me sane these past couple of days, when I really thought I was going to lose my shit. I’m still not ready to make any decisions about Miranda and the baby, but I’m beginning to feel like I can. Like I have fucking options and Miranda hasn’t stolen everything from me.”

  Emily worms even closer and kisses the spot under my jaw she likes. “Thank you again for telling me. I know it’s ugly and embarrassing, but I feel privileged you shared it with me.”

  Holding her, I roll onto my back and wrap her tightly against me. Her hair creates a curtain around us, closing us in our own little world, while I kiss her soft, minty mouth.

  “I feel privileged to be your daddy,” I say between kisses. “I know I’ve asked a lot from you these past couple of days, and I know it hasn’t been easy. I know you have doubts, and that you’ve been scared. Just please don’t run from me again, Emily. Stick with me and I promise we’ll work
through it. I’m crazy about you.” I give her a hard squeeze to remind myself of the certainty of her. “I felt like you’d kicked me in the balls when you said you were going to fly home.”

  “I’m sorry, Daddy,” she breathes. “I just didn’t want to, um, inflict myself on you if you’d had enough of me. But I won’t do it again. I’m crazy about you, too. So, so crazy, and I’d do anything not to hurt you, because I know you’re hurting already and I’m sorry you have to deal with me as well as Miranda and everything else. I’ll try to be a better subbie.”

  “You are a wonderful subbie. Just give me your little self, baby doll. That’s all I need.”

  “Yes, Daddy.” She buries herself in my chest and I hug her, rocking her gently, until she falls asleep with her cheek pressed over my heart.

  * * *

  My alarm wakes me as morning light, the same soft pink of Emily’s blushes, edges around the curtains. I tap off my phone before it wakes my little girl and spend a minute watching her sleep.

  I feel so fucking close to her. The secrets, hurts, truths we’re sharing are beyond intimate. They’re painful. Humiliating. Soul-wrenching. I haven’t been this exposed since I was a kid. But Emily’s so giving, and allows herself to be so vulnerable, that it feels dishonest to give her anything other than complete openness in return.

  And I’m so proud of her. Such bravery in such a little package. She could have pulled back. I’d have given her time to regroup after the soaping debacle, if she’d needed it. Instead, she opened up and gave me everything. My doll baby.

  The timing sucks. If I’d met Emily three months ago, our relationship would be solid now. I’d know where her landmines are. I’d have mastered the daddy thing. We’d have complete trust, and I wouldn’t have to worry about how the clusterfuck with Miranda might undermine us. For a second, I’m tempted to just walk away from any responsibility I might have there. But that’s not me. I had unprotected sex with Miranda, knowing what the consequences might be. I’m not going to run away from those consequences just because Miranda screwed me.