by Frost, E J
He hugs me for a moment before he leads me back to the table, where Theo is already asking Laurel questions about the Fire Island party. He didn’t waste any time, did he? Mean man. I slide back into my chair and take Laurel’s hand.
“What time did you get to the party?” Theo asks Laurel.
“I honestly don’t remember. Best guess would be mid-afternoon. We’d had lunch already.”
“What did you have for lunch?” he asks.
She shakes her head. “Sorry, I don’t remember.”
“Did you take a pill before or after you ate?”
“Usually after. They’d started to bother my stomach if I took them without food. But I don’t specifically remember.”
“When did you start drinking?”
“That morning. We had mimosas with breakfast. Long Island Iced Teas with lunch. Gin when we got to the party.”
Theo taps his pen against the notebook in which he’s making notes. “Would you say you were drunk at any point?”
“Yes, but not until later. After Rick left, we went back to the party and I did a couple of vodka shots with Dovie. Probably four or five. I remember the room started spinning. Dovie went and found me some crackers. After I ate them, I took another pill and lay down on the bed. That’s when Dovie hooked up with that guy. I was in and out while they were going at it.”
“But you were awake and aware while you were having sex with Mr. Errol?”
Laurel nods as Jiro sits down on her far side. Daddy takes his seat next to me, wiping his soapy hands on his T-shirt.
“In the weeks leading up to the party, how much did you generally drink in a day?”
“It varied depending on who I was with and what I was doing, but I’d usually down a shot or two with breakfast, have cocktails at lunch and then have two or three bottles of wine at night.”
“Would you say you were constantly drunk?” Theo asks.
“No, I’d say I was rarely drunk but always buzzed. Whenever the happy started wearing off, I’d have another drink.”
“And the pills?”
“Fifty milligrams four times a day. I was trying to keep it under two hundred milligrams a day so my doctor didn’t think I was addicted. That’s why I started mixing the Tramadol with booze. The pills alone didn’t take the edge off anymore.”
“What edge?” Theo asks.
Laurel glances at Jiro. He nods and puts a hand on her shoulder.
“As much as you’re comfortable with, petto.”
Laurel takes a deep breath, holds it for a moment, then lets it out. I recognize the calming technique; Daddy uses it a lot with me. I squeeze her hand and she squeezes back.
“I was molested by someone close to me when I was in high school. I had a lot of trouble dealing with it. Then I broke my leg and the doctor gave me the pills and when I was high, it didn’t hurt anymore. No more flashbacks or nightmares. I felt empty, but at least I wasn’t hurting.”
I squeeze her hand again and she gives me a small smile. That smile makes my heart ache for her. She looks so fierce and strong on the outside, but inside, there’s such terrible pain. I glance at Logan. He’s watching me and as soon as I meet his eyes, he leans forward and puts his arm around my shoulders.
“Do you need a break, baby doll?” he whispers to me.
I shake my head, not wanting to abandon Laurel. I imagine that my fingers are sharp talons, that wings the sapphire of DirtyGurl’s hair are folded against my back, and that smoke curls from my nostrils. I’m a dragon, strong and fierce, standing with my dragon-friend.
“How long were you on the pills?”
“Nearly three years.”
Theo looks down at his notes. “And you finished college and worked that whole time?”
Laurel nods. “I was a high-functioning addict. And the motto at the Frist Group is work hard, play hard. A lot of my co-workers got along with me better when I was using.”
“How did you get the job at the Frist Group?” Theo asks.
“That’s not relevant,” Jiro growls. “Neither is what happened to Laurel in high school. Get to the point.”
Theo taps his pen on his notebook without meeting Jiro’s eyes, then nods to himself. “Okay. Before the Fire Island party, had you participated in kink?”
“I’m not sure exactly how you define kink. I hadn’t done formal scenes.”
“Did you know what a safe word was?”
“Yes,” Laurel says firmly.
“Did you establish a safe word before the scene with Mr. Errol?”
“No, and I don’t really consider what happened with Rick a scene.”
“No? Why not?”
“He gave me the pain I asked for, but that was it. He didn’t dominate or humiliate me. None of the kind of thing you were doing tonight.” Laurel tips her chin at DirtyGurl, who flushes again.
Theo gives her his own version of a wolfy-grin. It’s not as good as Daddy’s.
“Is erotic humiliation part of your kink?” Theo asks.
“None of your business,” Jiro says at the same time that Daddy growls.
Theo holds up a hand. “Sorry. So, from your perspective, it was just sex with a side of pain, is that right?”
“Yes, that’s right. It was a more extreme version of things Damon and I had done before. Rick was, I don’t know, just the administrator.”
“Administrator.” Theo arches a dark brow. “Okay. You didn’t consider either Mr. Errol or Mr. Tiger to be your Dominant at the time?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“And you didn’t have a safe word—”
“I didn’t need one. It wasn’t a scene and I wasn’t submitting. It was just sex and pain. Damon would have stopped if I’d pushed him or hit his stomach. Damon’s not a Dom. With him, no actually means no.”
She flashes a wry smile at her Dom, whose lips twitch.
“You think you were sufficiently aware at the time that you could have stopped it?”
“Yes,” Laurel says firmly.
“You consider yourself capable of giving consent, or taking it away, at the time?”
“Yes.”
Theo checks his notes again. “Why didn’t Ms. Donegan participate?”
“You’d have to ask her that, but she’s not into pain, so I’d guess she wasn’t interested.”
“You were aware Mr. Errol likes to dispense pain during sex?”
Laurel nods. “We’d watched his movies together. In fact, I’m pretty sure we’d watched his movies with Damon. I wanted Damon to choke me and he hadn’t ever done it before, so we watched some of Rick’s movies for pointers.”
“That could have gotten you killed,” Theo says, his face going hard.
“I know that now,” Laurel agrees as Jiro rubs her arm. “A lot of things I was doing at the time could have gotten me killed.”
Theo asks loads more questions, going through the details over and over again. Laurel’s answers make me dislike Rick even more. I thought he was just like my ex. Me-me-me. But Rick’s way worse than Ash. Rick’s a Dom, and Daddy’s shown me that a good Dom puts his submissive’s physical and mental well-being first.
As Laurel recounts how Rick slapped her off the bed and onto the floor, I shoot Daddy a glare.
He nods sadly. He’s heard all this before, I guess. Probably several times since he’s already interviewed Rick and Laurel and the other people they’re talking about. Daddy knows what a crappy person Rick is but keeps being friends with him. The same way he doesn’t seem angry at Theo, even though Theo was horrible to him and is being cruelly pushy to Laurel. Why is Daddy friends with these mean men? Is it some kind of Dom brotherhood?
“She’s answered these questions already,” Jiro says after Theo asks what Laurel did after Rick left the room. “Enough.”
Theo taps his pen against his notebook. “I’m just trying to be thorough. I’m guessing I won’t get another chance to interview Laurel.”
“Correct,” Jiro says succinctly.
�
�Okay,” Daddy says. “I think we’ve all had enough. Theo, you can email any follow-up to Laurel, can’t you?”
Theo grumbles but nods.
“Great. If you want to do a scene, I’ll open up the playrooms. Otherwise, we’re going to set up tea and coffee in the lounge and put on a movie for the girls.” Daddy strokes my hair. “How to Train Your Dragon sound good?”
I dissolve. How does he always know the perfect thing?
He grins when he sees me melt, holds out his arm and when I slide across my chair to him, pulls me into his lap for a cuddle.
“Did I hit the mark?” he asks, whispering into my hair. “Daddy still got game?”
I giggle helplessly.
“Toss the big pillows on the floor in front of the telly and put on the movie. Jiro and I will organize the drinks. I’m very proud of you for being so supportive of Laurel, baby girl. Movie’s your reward for that and Daddy has another treat in store for you before bed.”
A treat? I wiggle on his lap before I remember how sore I am. “Ta so much, Daddy.”
“Good girl. Scoot before I’m tempted to smack that sore little bum.”
I smooch his cheek before I wriggle off his lap.
* * *
Neither Daddy nor Jiro will let us paint their toes. Party-poopers. Laurel’s brought this pretty, iridescent paint that looks like scales. While we watch the movie, we lie on the pillows, because it turns out Laurel has a sore behind, too, and paint each other’s fingers and toes. After a second coat, I lie on my back and wiggle my shiny digits in the air. Laurel scoots over so she can wiggle hers next to mine.
“Now you’re a dragon, too,” Laurel says.
“A little dragon,” I agree.
“You need to pick a dragon name.”
“Maria,” Logan says from where he’s lying on the sectional behind me with a pillow propping up his bad leg.
Laurel joins me in giggling.
“Maria doesn’t sound like a dragon name, Daddy.”
“No?” Daddy grins. “Sounds like a dragon name to me.”
Jiro chuckles and holds his beer bottle out to Daddy to tink. “I like Frank. That’s an excellent dragon name. What about Frank, Emily?”
Laurel and I roll our eyes in unison at our silly Doms.
The movie’s almost over when Theo and DirtyGurl come up from the basement. They both look sated and sleepy. DirtyGurl crashes on a pillow next to me while Theo goes into the kitchen with Daddy to get a cup of coffee.
DirtyGurl admires our gleaming talons and shows us a blue, red, and black dragon tattoo that circles her ribs. That kicks off a tattoo competition. Laurel has a green, red, and gold dragon wrapped sinuously around a Yin Yang symbol on her back and Japanese characters for love and luck on her ankles woven into colorful peonies, but DirtyGurl has her beat with a huge piece that spreads pale flowers and elaborate gray scrollwork around her right hip and butt cheek. When Daddy and Theo return, I’m the only one wearing clothes because I don’t have any tattoos to show.
“Now this is what I like to see, three beautiful submissives getting naked,” Theo says, sipping his coffee.
“I’m not getting naked, Master Theo,” I tell him.
“Why is that, honey? Don’t you have any ink?”
I’m not getting naked because I don’t want to be naked in front of him. He’s mean. But also, because I don’t have any tattoos.
“No, Master Theo.”
“That’s a crime,” says DirtyGurl, running her fingers up and down my bare arm. “This skin? Begging for ink.”
“Would you make me a dragon?” I ask her, since I know she has her own tattoo parlor. “White and pink and blue. Sapphire blue, like your hair.”
DirtyGurl laughs. “You got it, babes.”
“Before this goes any further, Daddy needs some input,” Logan says.
I roll over so I can look up at him. “You said you like tattoos.”
Daddy smiles down at me. “I do like tattoos. We’ll talk more about whether I like tattoos on my baby girl, huh? But first I know someone who needs a bath.”
“You, Daddy.” I wrap my arms around my middle and wiggle with delight. I love baths with Daddy. “But I am very dirty.”
“I can tell.” Daddy beckons me with two fingers. “Come, little love.”
I give DirtyGurl and Laurel hugs before I climb out of our dragon pile and wrap myself around Daddy, who tucks me to his side.
“Jiro, anything you need, just help yourself. We’ll be about an hour. Do you want me to leave out the Epson salts?”
“Yes, thanks. You’re sure you don’t mind me setting up the travel crate on the carpet?”
“Not at all. Theo, I know you’re heading out. DirtyGurl, you staying? We’ve got plenty of room.”
She pops her peacock-blue head over the back of the couch. “Plenty of room in your and Emily’s bed, sir?”
“Hold on a minute,” Theo grumbles. “I gave you two orgasms and I didn’t get a sir.”
“You’re still not Emily’s gatekeeper,” DirtyGurl tells him and I have to laugh at his frown.
“Sorry, no,” Daddy answers her. “Just me and Emily in our bed tonight. Plenty of other beds, though.”
DirtyGurl shakes her head sorrowfully. “I’ll head out, too.”
“Call me sir and I’ll let you share my cab,” Theo says, holding his arm out for her.
She climbs up off the pillows and rubs against Theo’s side. “Six blocks. Easy walk.” She chuckles. “Master Theo.”
“I’m going to beat your ass so hard tomorrow night,” Theo growls.
We say goodbye to Theo and DirtyGurl. DirtyGurl accepts the handful of balloons that I press on her. She tells me she’ll put them in her shop so I can visit them when I come to look at dragon tattoo designs, which makes me smile and Daddy grumble.
He locks up behind them, scoops me up in his arms, and starts toward the stairs.
“Daddy?” I ask hesitantly. I don’t want to annoy him when everything’s gone so well tonight, but he hasn’t seen Hendry since the last appointment I went to with him, so she can’t have cleared him for squats with weights.
“I’ve had enough of not being able to carry you around,” he tells me. “We’ll go slow and I’ll keep one hand on the banister, but I am carrying you. Hold on to my neck.”
I do. Not so tightly that I choke him, but tight enough that he only needs to use one arm under my butt. He grips the banister with his other hand, and mounts each stair with deliberation, but he gets to the top without a tremble. My strong, determined daddy.
Chapter Eighteen
Logan
I’ve never been reluctant to use my submissive after a punishment, no matter how sore they were. Exercising my right to their body as their Dominant reinforces both my role and the lesson.
Punishing Emily is different. I didn’t derive any sexual gratification from it and the mere idea of pushing my cock into one of her deeply bruised holes makes me wilt.
Although my lack of sexual interest’s somewhat disconcerting, I’m pleased about it. There are a lot of things about Emily I find addictive. I don’t want to get addicted to punishing her. I could encourage her to misbehave to give me an excuse for punishments, and she’d play along to please me. But that’s not really Emily. She’s sweet and compliant by nature, and that sweetness has become so precious to me. I wasn’t exaggerating when I told her she gives me a peace I’ve never known before.
Ten and Javier would probably scoff at me. But as Emily defines her own submission, I define my own sadism. And I’m finding my sadism doesn’t include fucking my baby girl when her crotch resembles an overripe aubergine.
Instead of sex, I give her a long rub-down with lavender-scented oil. I’ve learned all about the benefits of massage while I’ve been recovering. More than stimulating my nerves, it gave us the comfort of touch when we couldn’t have sex. Now, it serves the same purpose. I drop soft kisses on her shoulders and neck, and a few on her butt, but mostly I concentr
ate on working my hands all over every inch of her soft skin.
Once she’s a “puddle of happy,” as she cutely describes it, I tuck her under the covers and cuddle her while I read another of her Maurice Sendak books, Outside Over There. It’s slightly scary as bedtime stories go, with the little sister being abducted by goblins. But the story’s about courage being rewarded, and since that’s what I want my little girl to take away from her punishment, it’s fitting.
Emily’s yawning by the time I’ve finished the story, so I snuggle her down in the bed with her bunny and her binkie and kiss her until she falls asleep mid-kiss, her lips sticking to mine.
I ease her into the pillows and watch for a minute to make sure she doesn’t wake. Then I slide out of bed, pull on a tee over my pajama bottoms, grab my phone, and head downstairs. Although the basement playrooms are fully sound-proofed, the bedrooms aren’t. Something I might need to rectify if I end up with custody of Miranda’s baby. But that’s a worry for the future. For now, there’s a restless Dom who finished fucking his submissive while I was reading to Emily. I heard him close Laurel in her crate, which he’s already told me doesn’t lock for safety reasons, and walk downstairs. Wanting to be a good host, I follow him down.
Jiro’s in the kitchen, waiting for the kettle to boil, but he’s also turned on the telly to the late news, although he’s left it muted.
He stiffens when I walk into the kitchen. “I hope I didn’t disturb you.”
“Nope, not at all.” I take two mugs out of the cabinet and put them next to the kettle, then toss a peppermint tea bag into my cup. “Coffee or tea?”
Jiro fishes a paper-wrapped tea bag out of his pants pocket and holds it up. “I always bring my own.”
“Snore and Peace,” I read off the wrapper.
He nods. “Helps me sleep.”
“Does it make you snore?”
His austere face softens, and he chuckles. “I hope not. Laurel has never complained.”
“I’ll let you know in the morning.”
“Are the walls that thin?”
“’Fraid so.”
