The Daddy P.I. Casefiles: The First Collection

by Frost, E J

  I put my arm around Emily’s shoulders and check her expression, which is rapt.

  “What do you think, little love?”

  “Beautiful, Daddy,” she breathes.

  I stroke my palm over her hair and let her enjoy the scene, happy I can give her this pleasure.

  * * *

  By the time we join Javier for lunch, we’ve petted the ponies, had mud baths in the spa, Jiro and I have had hot towel shaves, and we’ve all had aromatherapy neck and shoulder massages that have left us so relaxed it’s almost too much effort to shuffle down the hall to eat. Javier’s reserved a table for twelve, and before Jiro and Laurel even have time to read the menu, Maude, Ten, Austin, and Hunter have taken seats around the table.

  Theo and DirtyGurl join us while we’re ordering. A few feet away from the table, DirtyGurl stops like she’s been pole-axed. She grabs the back of a chair for support and puts her head down while her shoulders shake. A truly evil grin spreads across Theo’s face as he leans in and says to her, “You still don’t have permission. How’s that ‘sir’ coming?”

  “I seriously fucking hate you,” DirtyGurl hisses at him. “Master Theo.”

  She straightens her shoulders and marches to the table, plopping into a chair beside Emily with a swish of peacock-blue dreadlocks and a grimace as she lands on whatever implement Theo has inside her.

  I catch Emily’s eye and grin.

  “Don’t be a monster-meanie, Daddy,” she whispers back.

  “A vibrating butt plug is definitely in your future, little girl.”

  Emily swallows hard and hides her anxiety in a sip of water.

  “What’s everyone having?” DirtyGurl asks.

  “A very sore ass,” Theo says, sitting beside her and picking up the menu.

  “You don’t have a sore ass,” grumps DirtyGurl.

  “You do, and I’ll definitely be having it later.”

  Emily giggles at their exchange, then drowns her giggle in her water glass when DirtyGurl glares at her.

  “The special is capicola with olives and figs,” I tell DirtyGurl.

  “That sounds good.” Theo, a fellow carnivore, folds his menu and nods at the hovering waitress. “You’re paying, right?”

  I snort. “Strictly Dutch today, mate.”

  “Actually, this is my treat,” Javier says. The table he’s gotten us is round, but he’d be sitting at the head of the table if it weren’t. “Not every day I’m surrounded by so many of my favorite people.”

  That’s true. Even before I stepped back from the club, I rarely ate here, and, when I did, it was just with Javier and Maude. Javier had a full-time submissive at the time, but we just didn’t include her, or any other submissives, when we socialized. Not until I found my little girl.

  I pick up Emily’s hand and kiss her ring finger, reminding myself to look for a pink diamond this weekend, because I cannot get a ring on her finger fast enough.

  “Hey, little wonder.”

  She gives me an impish smile. “Hi, Daddy.”

  “How’re you feeling?”

  “Puddle of happy, Daddy.”

  “Excellent.” I make it my mission for the day to keep her in that state. It may be a challenge as the day goes on, because there are always some last-minute wobbles before a big job and Rick’s party has risen to the level of a big job with the stalking, but I’m pretty good at compartmentalizing. “We’re going to do a low-key scene after lunch. Nothing that would aggravate your bruises. I’m thinking you’re overdue for a tickling.”

  Her smile widens to a grin. “Waaay overdue.”

  “Uh-huh. That’s a way to guarantee extra attention to those ticklish toes, little monkey.”

  She squirms in her chair and a sweet, pink flush rises to her recently exfoliated cheeks.

  “Did I hear the word ‘scene’?” Javier asks.

  “Emily’s overdue for a tickling,” I respond. “Waaay overdue, evidently.”

  Javier’s gray gaze sharpens. “Do you need a twelfth man?”

  I grin at his cricket reference. “Are you volunteering?”

  “I am.”

  “If I may,” Jiro interjects. “I know someone else who is overdue for a tickling. A tickle tondo might be in order.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Theo chimes in. “I have a volunteer for a tickle tondo, too.” He shoots another evil grin at DirtyGurl. She turns red, and then purple, gripping the table as Theo activates whatever he’s got inside her again with a low buzz.

  “Austin, Hunter, either of you want to volunteer for a tickle tondo?” I ask.

  “No way,” Hunter says, raising his hands. “Only fingers that touch these tootsies are my own.”

  “Wrong,” Ten growls. “You’re in. What about you, Austin?”

  Austin’s blush is harder to see against his deep chocolate skin, but it’s there. “I’d, uh, need permission.”

  If he’s talking about Dana, that escalated fast. I’ve never known her to exercise control over a house submissive outside a single scene.

  “Get on your phone, then,” Ten tells him. “And tell her to take the afternoon off and join us. What’s the point of working for herself if she can’t take time off?”

  “Yes, sir,” Austin says, his cheeks darkening.

  “Anyone have a problem with blindfolds?” I ask as the waitress starts putting down drinks.

  “Nope,” says Theo, presumably speaking for DirtyGurl.

  “No problem,” Jiro says.

  “I think it might be fun if the ticklees don’t know who is tickling whom,” I explain.

  Beside me, Emily quivers in her chair: one little ticklee who is turned on by that idea.

  “I, uh, have permission for over my clothes,” Austin says quietly.

  “Good. I think we can all agree to that. Over the clothes only for the ticklees. Please give Dana my thanks for letting you participate.”

  Austin turns a deeper shade of red, but nods and bends his head over his phone.

  When the food arrives, I hand-feed Emily olives and figs from my plate and let her bribe me into exchanging a few bites of her salad for some of the succulent capicola. Theo watches our exchange with amusement, then takes some of the meat from his plate, chews, fishes it out of his mouth, and offers it to DirtyGurl.

  “Not a fucking chance,” she says.

  “You’ve sucked on my tongue and swallowed my come, how’s this any different?” he asks.

  “It just is.”

  DirtyGurl pulls a grilled scallop off one of the five skewers on her plate. It’s so delicately cooked, it looks like a marshmallow as she cuts it in half. She holds a piece out on her fork to Emily, who checks with me before taking the bite and chewing ten times with an expression of delight. DirtyGurl’s face mirrors Emily’s. I know DirtyGurl’s submissive, but the way she interacts with Emily, there could be a switch buried under all those tattoos.

  “Okay,” Theo says, still holding out the unappealing clump of chewed meat. “You can have an orgasm for each piece you eat.”

  “Hard pass,” DirtyGurl responds, before popping the other half of the scallop into her mouth.

  “Seriously? You’re mine until midnight. You want to go all that time without an orgasm?”

  DirtyGurl shrugs. “Without an orgasm and without having to eat uncooked pig that’s had one too many trips around your molars. Dis-gust-ing.”

  She winks at Emily, who giggles.

  “It’s cured,” Theo points out.

  “It’s masticated,” DirtyGurl responds. “I wouldn’t eat anything that Jason Momoa’s spit out, either, so don’t take it personally.”

  “Table vote,” Emily chirps. “Who would eat something Jason Momoa’s spit out?”

  Laurel and Hunter raise their hands, while my little giggling monkey raises both hands.

  I pick up one of the fig halves from my plate, chew it, take it out of my mouth and hold it to Emily’s lips. “Open.”

  She gives DirtyGurl a look of pure mischief before she o
pens her mouth. When I put the piece of fig on her tongue, she chews ten times and swallows.

  “Good girl.” I hold out my fingers and let her lick off the fig’s stickiness.

  “How about a ‘good girl’ for every piece you eat?” Theo asks DirtyGurl.

  “That was a fig. You’ve eaten all your figs.”

  “Christ, woman, you’re a pain in my ass. Logan, loan me a fig?”

  “Tenner,” I say.

  “What?”

  “Tenner. You’re out of figs. I have two left. Supply and demand. You want one of my figs, it’s going to cost you a tenner. Oh, and I don’t want it back, so it’s not a loan.”

  “Surrounded by assholes,” Theo growls.

  I chuckle and toss one of my figs onto his plate. “Bet you a tenner she still doesn’t eat it.”

  “Sucker bet,” DirtyGurl says, laughing.

  I win that bet, but not before DirtyGurl teases Theo for another five minutes with a litany of reasons why she can’t eat the partially-chewed fig. He finally tosses the fig onto his plate, grabs her by the dreadlocks, and drags her away from the table. “See you upstairs for the tickle tondo,” he throws back over his shoulder.

  I wink at Emily. “Someone’s about to swallow something.”

  “Me, Daddy?” she asks hopefully.

  “No, not you, little monkey. Unless you’d like some tea?”

  “No, thank you, Daddy. Too roasty-toasty today.”

  “It is, huh? How about iced tea?”

  She wrinkles up her little face at me. “Could I have a milkshake instead as a special treat?”

  “I’m sure Kells would whip you up a milkshake,” I say, referring to the Trattoria’s chef. As I wave the waitress over, I ask, “What flavor, sweet girl?”

  “Banana if she can put real bananas in it.”

  “A banana milkshake with real bananas. No problem.” I draw her to me and kiss her temple before I order for her.

  * * *

  I give the banana milkshake, which my little girl enjoys nearly as much as this morning’s face-fucking, a while to digest before I encourage everyone upstairs for the scene.

  Cappa and Charlotte are staffing the upstairs desk, two pairs of blue eyes rising to me as I usher the tickle tondo participants through the security door. Cappa and Charlotte aren’t related, as far as I know, but with their dark hair, bright-blue eyes, and delicate features, they look like twins. They break into identical smiles as everyone files into the hallway.

  While I orient Jiro and Laurel as to the changing rooms and dungeons, Cappa comes around the desk and approaches Emily.

  “You okay?” he asks her.

  My little girl looks up at him wonderingly. “Yes, thanks.”

  “I heard.” He looks down at his hands and I’m reminded that Cappa’s nearly as shy as Emily. “I mean, we all heard. About Pence. And about you riding the pony. I had to go to my other job before your scene finished, or I would have checked on you. DirtyGurl said you were okay, but you know what she’s like. She’d say you were okay unless you’d lost a limb.”

  Emily giggles. “I’m okay. Thanks for asking.”

  “Okay, just—I wanted to make sure you knew, Pence is a dick. The rest of us don’t feel that way. Well, maybe Briar does, but she’s also a dick.” He lifts his head and gives her a hesitant smile. “You’ll keep coming back, right?”

  Emily nods. “I like it here.”

  Cappa begins to edge back around the desk. Emily looks a question at me and I nod permission for whatever gesture she wants to make. She taps Cappa on the shoulder. When he turns to her, she puts her arms around him and gives him a warm hug. Over her shoulder, I see his tense face relax. He passes her to Charlotte, who comes out from behind the desk for a hug as well.

  “Well, this is all very touching,” Javier drawls. “When you’re finished, and by all means, take your time, perhaps you could pay some attention to the Doms here?”

  Cappa turns purple with embarrassment. He jumps back behind the desk and types madly into the touch screen. “I’m sorry, sir. Did you say the Imperial Room?”

  “I did. When Theo and DirtyGurl come up, please direct them there.” Javier turns to me. “Shall we make it an open scene?”

  “Sure.” Once the board behind the desk updates, I tap a finger on the desk to get Cappa’s attention. “I’d also like the Blue Harem Room. Black and amber, gold star.”

  I want somewhere we can retreat to, where Jiro and Laurel can have privacy to fuck or recover in whatever way scalies recover. And depending on how Emily’s doing after the tickling, I’m thinking some orgasms might be in order for us, too.

  The board updates again and Javier begins herding our group down the hall towards the Imperial Room. I linger at the desk, with my arm around Emily. When everyone’s moved away, I beckon to Cappa, who comes out behind the desk again. I wrap him in a one-armed hug and whisper into his ear, “Thank you, boy.”

  “You’re welcome, sir.” He gives me a tentative hug in return. “When you were Master of Training, it felt like a family here. After you left . . .” He shrugs. “I’ve been hoping things could go back to the way they were, now that you’re back. But if Rachel and Pence scare Emily away—”

  I squeeze his shoulders. “No one is going to scare Emily away. Or me. I know there are problems.” I take a deep breath and commit myself. “I’ll help fix them. Austin and Hunter are coming to ours for dinner on Sunday night. You come, too. We’ll talk about what needs to be done.”

  Cappa draws back with a hard swallow. He passes his hand across his eyes. “Thank you, sir. I will. Can I bring someone?”

  I glance at Emily, who nods.

  “Text me their name and whether they have any dietary restrictions.”

  “Yes, sir. I will. Thank you, sir.”

  I catch his chin in my hand and tip his face up so I can see his eyes. He blinks hard but can’t hold my gaze. “Cappa, it’s going to be okay.”

  The skin under my thumb quivers. “Yes, sir.”

  I give his chin an affectionate pinch. “See you at seven, huh?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  When he steps back, I slide my arm back around Emily and nudge her towards the dungeon Javier’s reserved.

  “You can ask questions until we get to the Imperial Room, baby girl, but I don’t want any discussion where Javier can overhear. He pushes my buttons too hard already.”

  She grins up at me. “Okay, Daddy. I don’t have any questions, though.”

  “No?” I figured she’d at least ask what my fix-it plan is. Which is a good question, because I don’t have one.

  “Nope. I know you’ll do everything you can to help.”

  “How do you know that, little girl?”

  “Because that’s who you are. People talk to me, because I listen. People brings problems to you because you fix them.”

  “Baby, sweet baby.” I hug her tight to my side and kiss her temple. “I appreciate your faith in me.”

  She squeezes my waist. “Besides, it’s a good excuse to get a sushi boat from Kikoo.”

  “Aha.” I launch an initial attack on her ribs that has her writhing against my side. “I knew you had an ulterior motive.”

  She giggles wildly. “You, Daddy.”

  “Still not me, you giggle-puss. Do you want to use the bathroom before I make you wet your nonexistent knickers?”

  “Yes, please, Daddy.”

  We make a quick stop in the changing rooms before joining what’s becoming a crowd in the Imperial Room. I’m sure Javier picked this playroom because it has the largest bed of any of the dungeons: a massive, circular thing that can, and has, slept a dozen. There are already several submissives on the bed, lounging on the red satin cover, including Moon. Ten and Javier are busy cranking one of the room’s suspension hooks over their heads.

  Sean, Moon’s trainer and husband, rises from where he was sitting next to her and claps me on the back. “Excellent idea for a scene, Logan.”

  “
I can’t take complete credit,” I say. “Jiro was the one who suggested a tickle tondo. Would you like to meet him and his submissive?”

  They missed meeting after Moon’s training because Jiro and Laurel took a suspiciously long time in the bathroom.

  “Sure. Moon-girl, come meet Logan’s guests.”

  Moon rolls off the bed and walks over to us. She’s wearing a tee and jean shorts, with her black hair flowing loosely down to her waist. There’s no sign she was in full tack, a tail plug, and hoof boots just a few hours ago, but the pony-girl’s grace remains as she walks. It’s beautiful, the way Moon moves. I wonder if I did some training with Emily under Sean’s direction whether it would boost Emily’s belief in her own grace and beauty. Emily might enjoy being a little pony.

  I would definitely enjoy riding my little pony-girl.

  My thoughts must show on my face because Emily peers up at me while I introduce Sean and Moon to Jiro and Laurel.

  I bop the tip of her nose with my forefinger. “Shoes and socks off, baby girl.”

  She immediately starts to comply, even while she keeps watching my face. “Daddy, are you thinking wolfy thoughts?”

  I chuckle. “I just might be, sweetie. Have you ever done any pony play?”

  “No, Daddy.”

  But her grin tells me she’d like to.

  “I think we might do some. And if we do, there would definitely be a visit to the breeding stall for you.”

  She shivers, nearly falling over as she balances on one leg to pull her sock off. “Stallion Daddy,” she murmurs.

  “Indeed. Come here.”

  She hops to me as she tries to tug off her other sock. My adorably eager little girl. I cup her breasts in my hands and tug on her nipples through her soft playsuit until they’re distended pegs against my fingers.

  “While you’re mounted, one of the stable-hands will milk your udders. That helps little breeding mares orgasm over and over again while they’re serviced by their stud. I’ll put you in blinkers and you won’t be able to see who’s touching you. Would that excite you or make you scared?”