by Frost, E J
“Come here.”
Logan holds his hands out to me and when I take them, he pulls me into a koala-baby hug. I tuck my face into his neck and breathe in his warm, spicy scent. Mmm, Daddy.
“Cheating’s your hard limit, sweetheart. Everyone has their own tolerance for betrayal, and that’s yours. I think it’s good you realized that about yourself and got out when you did.” He rubs his big hands up and down my back. “Turns out, it’s a hard limit for me, too, but it took me a lot longer to figure out. I thought if I was honest with everyone, open relationships would be okay. You know how I feel about communication. But all it really meant was a lot of lies and a lot of hurt all around.”
I give him a big squeeze, my poor daddy. “I know you don’t want to talk about it yet, but I’m really, really sorry about Miranda.”
He sits back a little to kiss me on the forehead. “Thank you, baby. I didn’t mention it yesterday because we had enough going on, but I talked to a detective in Manchester. She’s going to report Miranda’s husband’s threat to the local police. She’s also given me a referral to a solicitor. I’m going to see if I can force Mir to take a paternity test. I need to know.”
Of course, he does. The uncertainty must be killing him. “I understand, Daddy.”
“Thank you again for being there, Emmy.” He pulls me back into a tight, warm hug. “I’m sorry your mum’s light went out, but yours certainly didn’t. You’ve given me so much these last couple of days. Your sweetness and laughter, just so much. I feel half-drunk around you.”
Fireworks. I don’t know how Logan does it, given how angry I was with him just a couple of hours ago, but a snuggle and a few words and he’s filled me up with more fireworks than the Fourth of July.
“I’m glad I helped, Daddy. Anything you want to talk about, I’ll listen, and if you need to take it out on me again, it’s okay. I can bear it. Super-tough, me.”
He chuckles and gives me a hard squeeze. “Super-tough, huh?”
“Boiled leather and steel.”
His belly brushes against mine as he laughs. “C’mon, let’s finish dressing you or we’ll be late to meet Niall. No undies today, but I think you better get your sea-bands. That storm’s going to hit soon.”
I glance at the balcony doors. The sky’s gotten progressively darker as I’ve been writing. Now, the daylight has taken a strange, gray caste. Serious storm coming.
When he lets me up, I find my bike shorts and the sea-bands. Logan dresses me: helping me step into the shorts, pull up my socks, and tie my sneakers before putting the sea-bands on my wrists. Having him dress me melts my insides. I feel so, so little. When I’m ready, Daddy picks me up and wraps me around him, koala-baby style, before he carries me out of the room. He takes the elevator instead of the stairs, his sole concession to carrying a hundred pounds of me as though I weigh no more than a pillow.
“You’re getting a work-out before you even get to the gym, Daddy,” I say, once we’re in the elevator.
“Sorry, what was that, fluff? I got distracted by this tiny sex kitten I’m carrying.”
I nuzzle his neck. “You’re silly, Daddy. And really, really strong.”
“All the better to toss you over my shoulder and have my way with you. Did you like being carried around last night? I couldn’t get enough of it.”
“Yes, Daddy. It was crazy-fun. And it made me feel close to you, even when I couldn’t see your face.”
“Good to know. I liked all the contact we had last night. Chain station’s good for that. I could move around and touch you from every angle. Better than a cross, I think, although I do like crosses.”
I like crosses, too, but he’d have had trouble hugging me if I’d been on a cross, and that was one of my favorite parts.
“When you hugged and kissed me before you started with the metal flogger, that was really good. I felt super-close to you and it helped me bear what came after.”
“Mm-hmm. You were very quiet during the first part of the flogging, which wasn’t any kind of problem, and when I needed more feedback, you gave it to me, but in future, if you need contact, just ask for it. That’s not topping from below. It’s telling Daddy his baby needs him.”
I snuggle even tighter. I love thinking of it that way. I’ve always been nervous about asking for things during scenes but thinking about it as needing my daddy totally works. “I like that. I was really deep in subspace, that’s why I was so quiet.”
The elevator doors ding open and Logan strides out, still carrying me like I weigh nothing. He’s only adjusted me once and his arms are as firm around me as when he picked me up. My strong, solid daddy.
“I know you went deep when I was cuffing you. Do you think that was because of the scene to that point, with me chasing you around, or because of the physical dominance of me fucking your throat and pinning you to the floor, or the anticipation of the flogging, or was it a combination?”
“It was a combination but mostly the way you were controlling me. The way you went up on your toes to push your penis down my throat was super-super domly. I just melted into a puddle of happy.”
He chuckles, a warm vibration from his chest through mine. “A puddle of happy, huh? I like that. We’ll definitely be going for a puddle of happy in future scenes.”
I’m good with that. Much better than the raging cesspool of pissed-off-edness this morning. I bounce a little in his arms. He grunts and adjusts me, but doesn’t put me down, even though we’re inside the gym now. He carries me over to where Niall is sitting on a weight bench, checking his phone.
“Everything okay?” Daddy asks Niall.
“Nae. Put yer gurl down an’ give me yer thoughts on this.” Niall holds his phone out.
Logan lets me slide down his body, kisses me on the forehead, and sends me towards the treadmills with a swat on my bottom. “Fifteen minutes at a gentle walk, little girl. No sweating. It’s not about burning calories today.”
“Could I do some stretching first? My back’s a little knotted from writing this morning.”
“Yes, good girl. Show me what a little sex kitten you are and get that ass high in the air. Big stretches for ten minutes.”
I skip off to the mats happily. I have a Pilates routine saved on my phone that I do when I’ve been sitting too long. It’s just about ten minutes long. As I’m tapping it up, I hear Daddy talking to Niall.
“Does he usually get like this after being shared?”
That sounds like they’re talking about Shaan. I kneel on the mats, put the phone where I can see it, and lift my arms into the first position.
“Nae. We did a scene three years ago where I kept him naked fer hours while the rest of us were clothed. He wrote me somethin’ similar afters. Eloquent, eh?”
Daddy chuckles. “That’s one word for it. Irate might be another word.”
“Aye.”
“Is humiliation a hard limit for him?”
“Wasn’t but the frock mighta been a bit much. Never done that with him before. Guessin’ that’s where the business about feelin’ like a street whore’s coming from.”
“Is that a trigger for him? I noticed you didn’t call him any names. Did any of the Doms who used his mouth?”
“Not that I heard. Yer pep talk at the start set the tone for the whole scene. Never been in a big scene where I didn’t hear someone called slut or whore, but I dinna hear anything like that last night. Did yeh?”
I see Daddy start shaking his head just before my view’s obstructed by a super-buff black guy, who sits down at a weight bench between them and me. It’s an attractive obstruction, but what he’s obstructing is more interesting than his biceps. I move around so I can see Daddy and Niall again, pushing my hands out in front of me and getting a huge stretch through my back and hips. Ahh, that feels good.
“He’s never had five down his throat one after t’other like that, but none of ‘em were rougher’n I’d be. I dinna see any signs of true distress. I’m thinkin’ I need to push him
now and get to the root of this. Yer gurl busy this avvy? I doan want Vashi listenin’ while I question him.”
“Vashi’s welcome to spend the afternoon with us. Emily mentioned going to the bondage marketplace. They could do that together. I have scenes planned with Emily after lunch and before dinner, but Vashi’s welcome to watch.”
She is? I mean, she watched Logan fuck me yesterday, but that was a public scene. I guess Logan’s not shy about inviting people into our bedroom. Logan’s not really shy about much of anything, come to think of it. Still, it’ll be a little weird having Vashi watch while Logan edges me. Maybe it will help me keep my head in the right place.
“Nae,” Niall says, and I breathe a sigh of relief. “I’ll bring her by around three and pick her up around five. That’ll give me plenty of time with Shaan. Suit yeh?”
“Perfect. I’ve got an interview at three. Bring her to Emily’s room.”
Niall puts his phone away and lies down on the bench, which prompts me into a different pose. I listen to them as they talk around sets of bench presses and dumbbell flyes. The floor shakes when they rack the weights. They’re both big, muscular men, but neither of them is bulky. I didn’t appreciate how strong they are until I see them finishing their sets with three big plates. I’m pretty sure that means they’re lifting three hundred pounds. No wonder Daddy totes me around like I weigh nothing.
While they lift, they discuss how Niall is going to question Shaan. I haven’t really overheard two Doms talking about constructing a scene before. Matthew sometimes talked techniques with other Doms at munches, but just about different kinds of tools, not the psychology behind a scene. Logan and Niall talk about the question-and-answer ladder, consent to pain, emotional flooding, and submission metaphors. I’m not a noobie, but I’m not sure what everything they talk about means. I try to take a few mental notes to ask Logan later, but their conversation’s so interesting that I really just try to keep up.
Logan turns his dark eyes to me as he rises from the bench, rolling his shoulders. I’ve been in my final position, a child’s pose that I can hold and feels great in my back and shoulders, for way too long. I sit up guiltily.
Daddy lifts an eyebrow at Master Niall. “What’s your favorite punishment for earwigging?”
Niall chuckles. “Day in earplugs if it’s Vashi. Sewing his ears shut if it’s Shaan.”
I clap my hands over my ears. He wouldn’t sew my ears shut, would he? “Please, Daddy!”
He beckons to me with two fingers. When I go to him, he folds me against his sweaty chest. “Was our conversation for your ears, little girl?”
“No, but it was really, really interesting.”
He taps the tip of my nose. “Curiosity’s your besetting sin, isn’t it?”
He’s got my number. “Sorry, Daddy.”
“Did you bring headphones?”
I shake my head. “The music was good last time.” They’ve got Fatboy Slim playing right now.
“Mmm. Siberia for you, then, little girl.” He points to a treadmill at the far end of the row.
I give him the saddest eyes I can manage. He doesn’t really want me to go all the way over there by myself, does he?
His lips twitch, but then he hardens his face. “Off you go.”
With the saddest of pouts, head drooping, I trudge down the row of treadmills to the end.
“Hard not to feel a little sorry fer her,” Niall says to Daddy as I go.
“Hard to keep a straight face,” Daddy murmurs.
I climb onto the treadmill and set a fifteen-minute walk. Remembering what Daddy said about not burning calories, I set the speed to low, no hills.
A moment later, Daddy climbs onto the treadmill beside me. Niall takes the one on his other side.
“Better to keep an eye on you, mischief,” Logan tells me as I try unsuccessfully to smother my grin.
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Don’t think the needle and thread option is out of the question, little girl.”
He’s smiling. He’s not going to sew my ears shut.
“That would be really, really owie, though. Does Master Niall really do that?”
Niall raises an eyebrow at me as he begins running on his treadmill.
“Pretty sure that’s a yes, little girl.”
I shiver and thank my lucky stars that Daddy isn’t as strict as Master Niall.
After a minute of fast walking, Daddy accelerates to a run and matches pace with Niall. I feel like a slug next to the two of them but remember that Daddy told me to keep it to a gentle walk. Pleasing him is more important than looking un-slug-like, even when Mikaela and another woman in a Pink Pearl bikini top and teeny-tiny running shorts climb onto the treadmills next to Niall and beginning running.
After three miles, Daddy and Niall drop to a walk. They’re both sweating, but neither is breathing hard. When Mikaela slows and starts gushing about how much fun she had at the scene last night, Daddy talks in normal tones. He asks her some questions, but nothing like when he recapped the scene with me. He doesn’t care about what worked for her and what didn’t. Only me, and I shouldn’t let that thought swell my heart, or my head, but it does. Daddy-daddy-daddy.
He looks at his wrist, and when he realizes he’s not wearing his watch, checks his phone. “Think we better clean up, little girl.”
I’m finished with my program and on the last minute of the cool-down anyway. “Yes, Daddy.”
Niall shuts off his treadmill and steps off when Daddy does. He shakes Daddy’s hand and gives me a sweaty hug. “I’ll bring Vashi by at three. Be good fer yer daddy, wee ears.”
“Yes, Master Niall.” I wriggle over to Daddy and when he puts his arm around me, hug his lean waist. “Thank you for not sewing my ears shut, Daddy.”
Niall laughs. “That’s somethin’ yeh doan hear every day.”
Logan chuckles, takes my hand, and leads me towards the stairs. “What was so interesting about our conversation, sweetie?”
“Lots. I didn’t realize you planned scenes like that. I mean, doing each thing to make sure you get the reaction you want from your subbie. Like when you said Master Niall should use the twenty minutes after emotional flooding to rebuild rapport and trust with Shaan. Do you time things like that?”
“I do. I’m aware of how much time I have to work with you after certain techniques. How much do you know about emotional flooding?”
I try to remember, scratching the back of my neck with my free hand.
“I’ve heard the term before, but it was in the context of my friend Gracie’s son. He has autism and she’s mentioned emotional flooding, like when he gets overwhelmed with anger or frustration and can’t process. He kind of shuts down for a while. I’m not sure I understand it in terms of a Dom-sub relationship, though.”
“It’s similar. It’s overwhelming a bottom with emotions during a scene. The bottom’s defenses break down, she achieves a catharsis, followed by a period of emotional openness.”
That sounds very . . . premeditated. Has he done that with me?
“Do you do that with your subbies, Daddy?”
“I do, although I prefer overwhelming my bottoms physically rather than emotionally.”
“Like with a big spanking? Or a super-flogging?”
“Yes, little girl.”
He has done it with me. At least twice. And I did achieve a catharsis. I realized things about myself, and him, and us, that I might not have otherwise. Instead of feeling invaded, I feel grateful he cares enough to plan scenes like that.
“I like your method better, Daddy.”
He chuckles. “That’s because you’re a physical masochist, little love.”
“Is Shaan?”
“I bloody well hope so. Otherwise, last night was sheer hell for him.”
“Until the end. That would have made him really happy, whether or not the rest worked for him.”
He gives me a squeeze. “I know the end of their scene made you happy. I also know you�
�re tremendously forgiving and don’t hold a grudge, even when a scene goes pear-shaped. I don’t think Shaan’s quite as forgiving. Niall’s got some work to do.”
“Is Shaan really, really angry with him?”
“Incredible Hulk levels of anger.”
“But Vashi said they spent all yesterday negotiating. Did Master Niall break Shaan’s hard limits?”
“Sometimes a bottom can feel devalued even if their hard limits aren’t breached. Think back to this morning when you got angry, did you feel I didn’t value your submission?”
“No, Daddy, I was just being stupid. Can we please forget this morning?”
Logan pulls me to one side so we don’t block the corridor and turns me to face him. He tips my face up with a finger beneath my chin and looks into my eyes. His are intent, but warm and caring. “Emmy, I value your feelings. Don’t be dismissive. You were angry. Tell me why.”
I want to shrink away from him and crawl under something large. I hate explaining my feelings. Half the time I don’t even think I should be having them. My feelings this morning definitely fall into that category. But he wants me to explain, so I try, even though I have to dredge each word out of the pit of my stomach with a backhoe.
“I just got angry. You said it was a reward, but it didn’t feel rewarding. It felt like you were being mean to me.”
He runs his knuckles down my cheek, and I lean into his caress.
“You felt I was being mean because I didn’t let you have an orgasm?”
I nod.
“Words, please, little girl. Did you feel like I was setting you up to fail by edging you?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Sweetheart, I’ll challenge you from time to time. You’d get bored if I didn’t. But I’m not setting you up to fail. I wouldn’t ruin a reward that way.”
Wouldn’t he? That’s what I’ve been worried about since breakfast. “But you’re a sadist.”
