The Daddy P.I. Casefiles: The First Collection

by Frost, E J

  “Is that why you broke up?”

  “We didn’t break up so much as I helped her find a Dom who was a better fit. I asked around at Blunts and someone recommended him. We interviewed him together several times before he flew out to meet her. Emotional masochists are vulnerable to abuse and Luisa had been abused before. But her new Dom’s a good man, particularly for a bloody tantric vampire. Luisa moved to San Francisco to live with him last year and they’re getting married next spring, so I think it worked out pretty well.”

  “Not for you, Daddy.” I cup his cheek and look into those dark eyes to see if there’s any lingering pain.

  “Worked out great for me. If I’d still been topping Luisa, I wouldn’t have found my little girl.”

  No pain. His eyes are clear and warm, smiling back at me. He believed giving up his lover to another man was the right thing then. He believes taking control of my money is the right thing now. My daddy will always do the right thing, even if he has to reshape his own boundaries to do it.

  “Best Daddy ever,” I whisper, cuddling into his chest and pressing my cheek against his heart.

  He chuckles and kisses the top of my head.

  * * *

  After we shower, Logan checks me all over again, rubs ointments into my sore places, and puts a teddy bear Band-Aid on my shoulder where he broke my skin. Seeing that he got me teddy bear Band-Aids makes me nearly melt through the floor.

  He puts me in another of the dresses he’s brought. This one floats down to my thighs from wide ribbon straps over my shoulders. The bodice and kerchief hem are embroidered with pink and blue butterflies. I can’t help twirling around so the butterflies flutter and swirl. Logan watches me with an indulgent smile and offers me his arm so I can skip beside him as we take the elevator up to the very top of the ship where the restaurant is, on the same level as the bridge.

  The restaurant’s decorated like a traditional Japanese tea house. Sliding rice-paper screens create private rooms, where we eat, sitting on big cushions at a lacquered table. A waitress in a kimono slides open a screen and kneels next to our table. Logan orders for both of us: salmon, salmon and more salmon, spread across a sashimi platter, a sushi sampler, and a variety of hand rolls.

  “Ta, Daddy,” I say, once the waitress closes the screen behind her. “I love salmon.”

  “I remember.”

  His grin, even more than him remembering my fish preference, lifts my heart. That night in L.A. was harder for him than it was for me. If he can smile about it now, I did my job as his bottom.

  “Is there a reason you want me to have lots of Omega-Three tonight?”

  “There might be, little girl. Depends on how defiant Princess Amber is.”

  I prop my chin on my hands. “Princess Amber is the most defiant princess who ever lived. More defiant than Tamar of Georgia. More defiant than Princess Buttercup, even.”

  “More defiant than Buttercup, huh?”

  “Well, before she realizes the Dread Pirate Roberts is actually Wesley. She’s not so defiant after that. So maybe more like Tamar. She pretty much just killed everybody she didn’t like. When she decided she didn’t like her husband anymore, she exiled him to Constantinople.”

  “Did she now?” Logan tips his head to the side. “Princess Tamar might not be the best role-model for you, little girl. Not if you want to get out of this scene alive. Is Princess Amber going to melt for the Black Knight after a flogging the way Buttercup does when she realizes Wesley has come back for her?”

  “No way. Princess Amber never melts. Princess Amber is a Titantic-sinking iceberg.”

  Logan laughs. I love his laugh. It makes me feel like my chest is full of fairy lights.

  “A Titanic-sinking iceberg, huh? Well, we’ll see about that. I have a flogger with Princess Amber’s name on it. Might melt that iceberg.”

  Yikes. And yum. Logan hasn’t flogged me yet, but I love-love-love a flogging. I mean, I hate it at first when I’m scared and it stings. But it gets me into subspace super-fast and once I’m there I love the thuddy-thump of a flogger more than anything.

  “I have a dress for you to wear during the scene, my defiant little princess,” Logan tells me as the appetizers arrive and he starts popping open edamame pods. “No undies for this scene.”

  “Okay, Daddy,” I say, after he feeds me a mouthful of beans and I chew ten times.

  “The dress is designed to shred as I flog you so I don’t want you worrying about it tearing and getting ruined, because it’s going to be in tatters by the time I’m done with you.”

  That idea makes me shiver and wriggle on the floor cushion. “Cool, Daddy.”

  Logan chuckles as he eats some edamame himself. “There’s an enthusiastic little girl. Emmy, we’ve had a lot of fun and silliness over the last couple of days, which I’ve really enjoyed. I don’t want to lose that playfulness. The scene tonight is going to be intense and I’m going to be very mean to you as the Black Knight. I don’t want you to think I’m doing anything other than role-playing.”

  “No, Daddy. You don’t think I’m really as naughty as I am in scenes, right? I would never actually tell you no the way I did last night.”

  “Oh, little girl, I know that. I love what a sweet sub you are. I always gravitated towards submissives who fought me for their submission. It excited me during scenes but the rest of the time it was exhausting. I think that’s why I haven’t pursued a full-time relationship with any of them. I couldn’t imagine living with the constant drain on my time and energy. Especially Miranda. If I saw her more than a few days in a month, it wiped me out. Topping you is completely different. The more time we spend together, the more energized I am.”

  He pauses to pour us each a tiny cup of sake. We tink and drink. I smile at the mellow burn. It’s much nicer than the vinegary red wine Ash liked. Or stinky beer. In such a small amount, it doesn’t add too many calories.

  Logan continues, “But I don’t want to take up too much of your time, sweetie. I’m glad things worked out today so you had some time to write. I’d want every minute of every day if you could give it to me, but I know that’s asking too much. I should be able to give you a couple of blocks of free time tomorrow. We’ll figure it out, Emmy, just bear with me, huh?”

  “I promise it’s okay, Daddy. You’ve been really, really good communicating with me. I promise to communicate with you when I need time of my own. Promise.”

  He reaches across the table and strokes my cheek with his knuckles. “That’s my good girl. Thank you, baby doll. Being such a good girl might get Princess Amber just the knotty flogger, but I wouldn’t count on it if I were you.”

  That idea makes me flush hotter than the sake. I shiver so hard I nearly fall off my cushion. “Ta, Daddy. Does Princess Amber get orgasms? Because she might be a little melted by a flogging. Tiny bit melted, maybe.”

  He gives me a full, rolling, daddy laugh. “Yes, Princess Amber can come whenever she wants. If the Black Knight’s really melted her, she might thank him but I don’t expect her to ask for permission. Just for tonight’s scene you’re excused from that rule. And we’ll use the traffic light system. Green if you’re doing fine. Yellow to give me warning if you’re overwhelmed, truly frightened, or getting close to your pain threshold. Red to stop and check-in.”

  “But if you check-in and can fix it, the scene keeps going, right?”

  He puts his hand on the table between us, palm up. I settle my fingers in his and he curls our hands together. Oh, what a good daddy gesture. I feel like he’s cupping much more than my hand in his.

  “Daddy,” I whisper, falling deeper and deeper into the power of those hot, dark eyes.

  He smiles. “The scene keeps going because Daddy doesn’t give up. And I’m crazy about you, too, little girl.”

  My whole body fills up with tingles.

  * * *

  The gown he’s brought for me is beautiful. Layer upon layer of white gauze, it floats down from a square neckline into sleeves that
split at my elbows to trail nearly to the floor. The skirt is kerchief-cut like the butterfly dress, with points in front, to each side, and in the back. It’s split all the way to my waist—I show a lot of leg when I move—not exactly historically accurate. It’s more of a Bonnie Tyler music video version of a princess gown. But it’s so, so beautiful.

  And I can’t wait to see it in tatters. It’s wrong of me to want to ruin something so lovely, I know, but fashion comes a dim and distant second to a really good flogging.

  Before our scene, Logan takes me to Vashi’s cabin so I’m not alone while he goes to check the dungeon. Niall goes with him, after giving me a Niall-sized hug, which nearly breaks my ribs. They leave me with Vashi, who’s wearing another gorgeous sari, which I sincerely hope no one is going to flog off her because that would be a crime, and Shaan, who’s wearing a sack-like dress and a huge ball gag. My jaw aches in sympathy. Shaan’s eyes spit all the invectives his mouth can’t, and he rattles the cuffs and chains tethering him to the end of their huge bed. Niall gives him a departing pat on the head and instructs Vashi to call if Shaan becomes distressed.

  Once the door closes behind Niall, Shaan leans his head back against the footboard of the bed and closes his eyes.

  Vashi motions me over and we sit on the couch furthest from Shaan. “Niall sometimes challenges Shaan,” she says, wringing her hands.

  I can see that. “Is he going to be one of Princess Amber’s ladies?”

  “Yes, Niall says he’s to be a wench. He can be used by any knight. Shaan is most upset.”

  I don’t blame him. “Does he agree to that? To being shared?”

  “It is part of their agreement, and Niall has shared him in the past. But not for some time, and it requires special negotiation, which they have been doing all afternoon. They sent me to the spa, which was very wonderful.” She holds out her hands to show me her gleaming manicure. “But I am afraid they did so to get me out of the way. There was much shouting. It is difficult to negotiate with Niall. I am very lucky I do not have to do so.”

  That’s right, she’s a slave. Total power exchange, so there’s nothing to negotiate. I’m not even sure Vashi has a safe word. Although she looks a little troubled now, she generally glows with happiness, so it has to be working for her.

  She puts her so-soft hand over mine. “Emily, I was most upset when I heard that you were in trouble after yesterday’s class. Niall promised me we did nothing wrong, but I cannot help but think that if I had not spoken then you would not have gotten in trouble.”

  I squeeze her fingers. “It’s okay. I didn’t get in trouble for talking during class. It was something else. I broke one of Logan’s rules and he disciplined me. But it all worked out and we’ve had such a wonderful time today. We went into Cabo and played on the beach for hours and had a seafood lunch with scallops and lobster that was so, so, so good. I found this glass sailboat in a shop. It’s a perfect souvenir for Logan. It all worked out, and I feel very close to him now.”

  She smiles, her eyes shining. “I hear much masala chai.”

  “It’s all over the place. What did you do today?”

  While Vashi tells me about their day in Cabo, paddling around sea-arches in kayaks off a remote beach, she French braids my hair. If Logan wants it down, it’s loose enough that he can just pull it out with his fingers, but it will keep my hair out of the way during the flogging. Besides, Buttercup wore a braid, I think. Or maybe not, but braids are princess-y.

  Vashi’s done before our Doms return and she offers me a glass of wine. I just have water, since I’m sure I’ve exceeded my calories today. Vashi pours herself a glass of white wine. I guess she’s allowed to drink, although I know a lot of slaves aren’t, and I thought that people from India didn’t drink alcohol as part of their religion or something, but her Dom is Irish, so maybe he insists. We’re sitting together, sipping our drinks, and talking about a biography of Jaqueline Onassis that she’s just started reading, when Logan and Niall return.

  Shaan immediately starts fighting his bonds, even though he’s been still and quiet while Niall’s been gone.

  “Yeh might want to save yer strength,” Niall tells Shaan. “Fifteen knights have signed up and only eleven wenches, so you’ll be busy, me giolla.”

  Horrified, I glance at Logan for reassurance, but he just grins at me. “I like your hair that way, baby doll. Easy to wrap around my fist.”

  I hadn’t thought about that. I gulp.

  “Your fantasy’s proven very popular among the staff,” Logan continues. “Our scene monitor, Paul, has signed up and brought all his friends, including our tour guide today, who’s going to be one of your wenches. Princess Amber’s castle isn’t just going to get sacked, it’s going to get razed to fucking ash.”

  I feel my eyes getting bigger. I’ve been to some dungeon parties where the numbers were unbalanced, but never in a scene. Does that mean the knights are going to double or triple-team the wenches? I’ve seen double-teaming during dungeon parties, but not triple-teaming. Not in real life. Only in porn videos and it looked completely awful for the woman.

  Does that mean Logan’s going to want me to service some of the knights?

  “Don’t you love the look of anxiety before a scene?” Logan says to Niall, who glances at me before his face splits into a blindingly white grin.

  Logan opens his arms. I leap off the couch and rush into them. He whispers warmly, “Whatever you’re worrying about, my baby, stop right now. Be anxious because pain is coming your way, but there’s nothing to be afraid of. This is your fantasy. I want you to enjoy every moment.”

  Of course, he’s not going to ruin my fantasy. Logan’s not like that. I hug him and tuck in against his firm body. “Ta, Daddy.”

  “Shaan should be a lot more anxious than you. This isn’t his fantasy and Niall’s planning to put him through the ringer. Be glad you’re not in his shoes.” We both glance at the bound, barefoot man. “Well, in his dress.”

  I giggle. “My dress is prettier. Ta very much, Daddy. I appreciate everything you’ve done to make this happen for me. I—” I swallow the next words before they burst out of me. I’m absolutely not telling Logan that I’ve fallen for him after I’ve known him for eight days. Even I’m not that stupid. “Ta for everything.”

  Logan gives me a squeeze. “You’re very welcome. Finish your drink, then use the loo. We’ve got the dungeon until eleven and I plan to use every minute, so you’re not going to have time to go once we get started.”

  “Yes, Daddy.”

  Even though the idea of using Niall and Vashi’s bathroom is a little icky, I do it, because I’ve been in the middle of scenes and had to beg for a bathroom break and it’s a complete mood-killer. I’m not doing anything tonight that might ruin all the effort my daddy has put into fulfilling my fantasy.

  When I come out of the bathroom, Niall’s got Shaan up off the floor, and into a half-hood, collar, and leash. It must have been a struggle, because Niall’s neck is flushed and Shaan is panting, blowing hard around his ball gag. He puffs his cheeks out until he looks like a chipmunk, and I would laugh except that he seems absolutely beside himself. Niall’s speaking to him, explaining that he’s going to unchain Shaan’s wrists and Shaan’s going to put his hands on Vashi’s shoulders and let her lead him to the dungeon, or the scene’s going to start with Shaan getting five stripes. I’m not sure what the five stripes are going to be from, but Vashi cringes and she’s not even the one getting the stripes, so it must be pretty bad.

  Shaan yells behind the ball gag.

  “Yeh hear something, Logan?” Niall asks.

  “Nope.”

  “That’s just mean, Daddy,” I whisper.

  He winks at me. “The Black Knight exists only to crush his enemies and hears only the lamentations of their women.”

  “Conan the Barbarian? Seriously, Daddy? And I don’t think that’s how the quote goes.”

  “The Black Knight can take whatever artistic license he wants.
And don’t even try to convince me that Conan was rated PG, little girl. That’s a morning paddling, if Princess Amber has any skin left on her bottom by then.”

  “Princess Amber can watch whatever she wants because she’s a princess,” I tell him, planting my hands on my hips, the way princesses do. “And she thinks the Black Knight is a doofus who doesn’t know his movies, and she’s not afraid of the evil paddle because princesses don’t get paddled.”

  Logan roars with laughter, scoops me up, and tosses me over his shoulder. So unfair. I mean I love how he handles me, but how unfair is it that he can just toss me over his shoulder to shut me up when Princess Amber is making a point? Total meanie.

  I pound my fists on his back. “Princesses don’t get toted around like a sack of potatoes, either!”

  “This princess does. Get used to it, little girl, because Princess Amber’s going to be in this position a lot tonight.”

  “Because the Black Knight is a poopy-head!” I rage.

  I hear Niall snort, but I can’t really see what he’s doing because I’m hanging upside-down over Logan’s back. What I do have is a great view of Logan’s butt. He changed while I was getting into my gown and he’s wearing black cargo pants and a black T-shirt. The pants hug his ass. Oh, yum-yum, Daddy’s butt is so firm.

  Channeling my inner Buttercup, I play the bongo-drums on his behind.

  Logan doubles over, he’s laughing so hard. I nearly end up on the floor before he straightens and smacks my ass, much, much, much harder than I hit his. I howl and kick my legs up against the hard bar of his arm wrapped around the backs of my thighs.

  Which gets me another smack.

  “See how this is going to go, Princess? You’re getting carried down to the dungeon this way whether you like it or not. You can fight me and get a smack with every step, or you can be a good girl and just lie over my shoulder until we get there. Then you can be as defiant as your little heart desires. Your choice.”