Daddy PI: Book 1 of the Daddy PI Casefiles

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Daddy PI: Book 1 of the Daddy PI Casefiles Page 35

by Frost, E J


  “It does.” Something clicks in my head. Being little isn’t age play for Emily. It’s the lowering of emotional shields she put up as a teen. Being little is freedom. Even if she has to stay within my boundaries, that freedom is a holiday for her. An escape and release from the pressures of daily life. “As long as you feel safe and comfortable, I’m good with that. I just don’t want to stress you.”

  She places her palm against my throat, feeling my pulse and the vibration of my words. Such a sweet gesture of connection and comfort.

  “What stresses you, Daddy?”

  “Not being in control. Not being able to help when there’s a problem. The Mets winning the World Series.”

  She giggles. “When we get back, could we go to a game? I’ve never been.”

  “You’ve never been to a baseball game? Now that’s a major crime. I’d be happy to pop your baseball cherry.”

  Another giggle and a big grin. She stretches like a kitten and curls on her side. “And my bottom cherry?”

  “Is that what you’re lying there thinking about, looking all innocent?”

  She nods. “There’s a huge, sandy boulder in my butt, Daddy. Even bigger than the ones on the beach. Kind of hard to think about anything else.”

  “A huge, sandy boulder, huh?” I chuckle, patting her bottom. “That must be uncomfortable. Let’s take Stanley out. You’ve worn him plenty for today.”

  She rearranges herself on the recliner, ass in the air, knees to her chest, cheek on the cushion, without me giving her a word of direction. I pull a glove, baggie, and baby wipes from my beach bag, remove and bag the plug, and wipe her up. Her sphincter’s rose-red; I bet she’s ready for a rest. I rub and pat her ass cheek once I’m done so she knows she can relax.

  “How long do you think it’ll be now, Daddy?”

  “Hmm?” I ask as I tuck the used wipes and glove into the baggie, seal it up and toss it in my beach bag.

  “Until you can, um, you know?”

  I give her cheeky ass a smack and she rolls onto her side, grinning.

  “Stanley is Morris’s big brother, right? Well, Stanley has a big brother, too. Maybe a week wearing Stanley’s big brother before you’ll be ready for Daddy’s cock.” I rub her hip. “There’s no rush, sweetie. Are you nervous about it?”

  She wriggles as she considers my question. Not much nervousness there. “I was. Really, really nervous. I haven’t made it a hard limit because I know Doms expect it, but I’ve never let it happen, either. I’ve used my safe word or negotiated for other stuff. I’d have tried not to safe word with you, unless it hurt more than I could stand, but doing it the way you have, it’s made it something we’re working towards together. You’ve made it feel safe, Daddy. And exciting and sexy.”

  Gradual change. That’s always the key with Emily.

  “I want it to be exciting and sexy, sweetie. You might still be a little nervous or scared the first few times, but that adds to the excitement, doesn’t it? And you know I won’t harm you like your ex did.”

  She nods. “Have you ever harmed any of your subbies?”

  Stroking her damp curls back from her face, I consider. “I’ve hurt my bottoms a great deal. I’ve been with some serious masochists and we’ve done heavy play like branding and piercing. I’ve been careful not to burn into muscle or pierce a nerve, so I don’t think I’ve ever harmed one of my bottoms, but I’ve certainly pushed a few beyond what they thought they could take.”

  She shivers all over, her little toes curling. “Will you push me like that?”

  “Yes. When I think we’ve established enough trust.”

  The big eyes come out like heavy artillery. “I trust you, Daddy.”

  “I know you do, angel baby. And I trust you. But we’ll trust each other more in a month. Trust is funny like that. Each experience we have together builds another layer. I’m not saying there’s a magic moment where we’ll have enough trust to do edge-play, but I’ll keep evaluating it.” I tip her face up so I can give her a kiss. “Your trust is very precious to me. I’m not going to damage it by pushing too fast.” A beeping from my bag interrupts me. The alarm on my phone. Time to get back to work. “Let’s get you dressed. The bus will be coming back in fifteen minutes.”

  We’re dressed and I’ve got Emily in my lap, brushing out her hair, when the excursion leader stops outside our cabana and shouts, “Knock, knock! Ten minutes until the bus leaves!”

  I slide Emily off my lap, fold back the canvas, and nod at the woman. “Thanks. We’ll be ready.”

  She checks her clipboard. “Mr. Logan, right? You’re not joining us at The Sleepless Lobster?”

  “We already have lunch plans.” Which is a shame because if the food is as good as the name, we’re missing out. But the opportunity to catch up with the Pink Pearl people in the privacy of their Cabo HQ is too good to pass up.

  “Absolutely no problem. For those doing their own thing for lunch, we’re meeting back up for sight-seeing at two thirty outside the restaurant. Can I arrange a taxi for you?”

  I give her a smile. It’s such a pleasure dealing with submissives, with their genuine desire to please. It makes me think of Blunts. Instead of the wistful sadness I’ve felt the last few months about my club, I feel a warm glow. “We’re already sorted, but thank you. Mikaela, is it?” I check the name stitched in pink on the breast of her pearly bikini top.

  She gives me a genuinely warm smile. “Yes, sir, and if there’s anything I can do to help you enjoy your day in Cabo, just let me know. See you on the bus in ten!”

  She plows off through the soft sand to the next cabana. Most of the pink cabanas have their curtains drawn.

  With her sunhat in place, carrying our beach bags, Emily joins me. She giggles as she follows my eyes down the row of cabanas.

  I take the bags off her, loop my arm across her shoulders, and whisper in her ear, “I don’t think we were alone in indulging in a little pre-lunch nookie.”

  She grins up at me. “Sea air, Daddy. It’s an aphrodisiac.”

  “Is it, now?”

  She nods solemnly, but her eyes dance with glee. “Well documented.”

  “Hmm. Guess you better make the most of the cruise, then. Not much sea air back at my place. Might be the end of your six-orgasm days.”

  She blinks the big eyes. “It’s okay if Wolfy-Daddy only gives me five-a-day at home, because Wolfy-Daddy orgasms are really intense.”

  I can’t hold in a laugh. “They are, huh? You give Wolfy-Daddy some pretty amazing orgasms, too, little girl. And Captain Daddy. I was surprised to find I still had balls this morning. I was pretty sure they’d turned inside out. And exploded.”

  “Galaxy Quest,” she says, giggling.

  Of course, she recognizes the reference, and I put it on my list of movies to watch with her, since I can already guess it’s a favorite. “C’mon, beach beanie, let’s be the first to the bus and get the best seats.”

  “Okay, Daddy.”

  She takes my hand and skips beside me through the sand, swinging her sandals, humming something that sounds suspiciously like the original Star Trek theme song.

  * * *

  Pink Pearl’s offices are only five blocks from the restaurant where the bus drops us, but both Emily and I are sweating by the time we reach the air-conditioned atrium. Despite the pervasive pink on the ship, the cruise line’s HQ is decorated in shades of pearl, so I don’t feel like we’ve fallen into a bottle of Pepto Bismol.

  “I’ll never again complain about how cold your cabin is,” Emily murmurs while we wait for the receptionist to announce us.

  “I hear you. Even August in the City isn’t this hot.”

  “But it’s a dry heat,” Emily sniggers.

  Busted. “Pretty sure Aliens is rated R, little girl.”

  She shifts from foot to foot. “I think I heard that somewhere else.”

  “I might believe that if you hadn’t been mimicking Hudson. That’s five for watching movies you shouldn’t be
watching and another five for trying to bullshit Daddy. From Belphegor, who is still sore about his name.”

  She giggles, evidently no longer frightened by my whippy paddle. “If I give Belphegor a better name, do I get fewer swats?”

  “Not a chance. Wolfy-Daddy doesn’t negotiate.”

  More giggles, which she tries unsuccessfully to muffle with her hands.

  I’m about to hug her, no matter how unprofessional it might be, when the door beside the receptionist’s window opens and Michael beckons us through. He leads us to a conference room where Teresa waits to great us with cheek kisses.

  Michael shakes my hand, gives Emily a hug, and holds her at arm’s length. “You’re looking much better. How are you feeling?”

  “Good, sir. Thank you for asking.”

  Since we’re among friends, I stop checking my impulses, draw Emily to my side, and nuzzle her temple. “Nice manners, little girl.”

  She smiles up at me and slides her arm around my waist.

  “We’ve ordered lunch in,” Teresa says, gesturing to a big, oval table in the center of the conference room. It’s piled with plates and silverware, but no food yet. “After lunch, I thought I’d take Emily for an hour’s shopping. There’s a wonderful arts and crafts boutique by the marina. It’s only a short walk.”

  “May I go?” Emily asks.

  I kiss her forehead and whisper to her, “Will you be all right?”

  She nods. “Thank you for checking.”

  “My pleasure, sweetie.” I lift my head and nod to Teresa and Michael. “Sounds like a plan.”

  Lunch arrives while we’re making small talk, mostly about the heat, which Michael says is unseasonable. They’ve ordered seafood and salads from a local restaurant and once I try a few bites, I can’t believe we’re missing out, no matter what the rest of the excursion’s eating.

  Since it’s just the four of us, I hand-feed Emily. Scallops ceviche marinated in mango and lime. Crab cakes with a tangy bite of blue cheese. Lobster burrito. Even a pinch of fried plantain, just for the taste since there are plenty of calories in this meal and I know she doesn’t eat a lot of fried foods. Hand-feeding her is as gratifying as I imagined. She kisses my fingertips after each bite. Closes her eyes in delight at each new taste. When she opens her eyes for the next bite, they’re adoring, above a cheeky grin.

  Michael and Teresa watch us with smiles but don’t interact themselves in any way I’d consider Dom-sub. It reminds me of dinner at the captain’s table our first night on the cruise.

  “I thought from the briefings that most of the senior staff were in the lifestyle,” I say to Michael as I’m holding a glass of iced water for Emily to sip. “Did I get that wrong?”

  “Most of the senior Pink Pearl people are, but not all of the ship officers. Captain Lopez is a Domme and you might have come across her partner, Tu, who works in the marketplace.” I shake my head; neither Emily nor I have explored the bondage marketplace yet. Michael continues, “Obviously, we wouldn’t employ anyone who has a problem with kink, but the ship officers are there to sail the boat, not play with the passengers.”

  That’s probably a wise hiring policy, but it makes me wonder if the officers are oblivious to things that someone in the lifestyle would be sensitive to.

  “Including Dan Reyes?”

  Michael nods. “Dan’s recently divorced but as far as I know his relationship was vanilla.”

  Why doesn’t it surprise me to hear the asshole’s recently divorced? Or, if I’m being charitable, maybe he’s an asshole because he’s recently divorced. Either way, he’s an asshole, and since he still hasn’t sent me the information I asked for, he’s an obstructive asshole.

  “Any chance of a conference call with Ed while the ladies are shopping?”

  Teresa wipes her mouth and sets her napkin beside her empty plate. “I think that’s our cue, Emily.”

  Emily nods. “Just a minute, please.”

  She does the plate ritual that I’ve taught her. Carefully. Perfectly. Scooping the crumbs into the napkin she folds onto my empty plate. Little sweetheart. I stroke her hair when she finishes, draw her to me, and kiss her forehead.

  “Think of a reward I can give you before dinner, little angel.” I tip my head so I can look into her eyes. “Stay alert while you’re shopping. Phone and credit card go where?”

  She taps between her breasts.

  “Good girl. You don’t get separated from Teresa, even for five minutes. If anything happens, call me and stay where you are. I’ll find you.”

  “Yes, Daddy.”

  “That’s my girl. Have a good time.”

  She beams and kisses my cheek before skipping out, arm-in-arm with Teresa.

  “Teresa’s been to Cabo several times. She won’t take Emily anywhere unsafe.”

  The whole world is unsafe for my little girl, but I’m not sure Michael would understand, so I let it go. “Anything we need to go over before we call Ed?”

  “Just what we discussed yesterday. If you had any questions?”

  What we discussed yesterday, at some length, was Emily’s panic attack. “No, you steered me in the right direction. It was an old trauma. We talked it through. I’ve got a good idea of where her triggers lie now. I appreciate that something that deep doesn’t get resolved with one good talk, so I plan to continue working on it with her. If she has another panic attack, I’ll encourage her to get counselling.”

  “Good, good. She seems much better today. Talking it through with her Dom may be enough, but if it isn’t, I can recommend some kink-friendly therapists in your neck of the woods.”

  “Thanks, Michael. And thanks again for making a cabin-call.”

  He chuckles. “My pleasure. So you’re up to speed, I’ve circulated the report on Geoffrey Sayers, our guest with renal failure. He’s stable but the function in both kidneys is poor. It’s too early to say but I’m suspect he’ll eventually need a transplant.”

  Not good news. Kidney transplants are expensive. The insurance guys won’t be happy. “Was it definitely the brick?”

  “Like Black, Sayers had complicating health conditions, specifically, high blood pressure. That does a number of the kidneys. His last exam was two years ago. He missed his annual last year because he was on the cruise.” Michael rolls his eyes. “His ACR and GFR results from two years ago showed slightly elevated proteins but not enough to warrant medication. His doctor gave him the standard advice about a low-salt diet.”

  “Was he on medication for the high blood pressure?”

  “Diuretics. He wasn’t good about taking them, if the rate at which he refilled his prescription was any indication. He complained several times to his GP about the side-effects. Guess what he was prescribed?”

  Unable to guess, I shake my head.

  “Viagra. The side-effect he complained about the most was erectile dysfunction so his doctor gave him a scrip for Viagra. That prescription, he refilled regularly.”

  “Any of our other victims take Viagra?”

  “Black. The young one, what was his name? He was on Cialis.”

  “Kam-Magruder,” I supply.

  I’ve always considered him an outlier. He’s fifteen years younger than any of the other victims. Where the only picture I could find of Black was the profile on his company website, Kam-Magruder has multiple social media accounts. They show a slender, pan-ethnic man in his early thirties who rarely smiles and plays a lot of tennis. Until I interviewed Chrisjean Olsen, I thought Kam-Magruder was an outlier as a bottom, too, since there are pictures of him with different, dominant-looking men. No steady partner from the pictures and his Facebook profile lists him as single. I couldn’t find a Fetlife account for him but that doesn’t necessarily mean anything since pseudonyms are common on Fetlife, although he uses his real name everywhere else. Still, I found Fetlife accounts for both Sayers and another victim, Lincoln Elliot. Could mean nothing, or it could mean that Kam-Magruder is relatively new to the lifestyle.

  “W
hy was he prescribed Cialis?” I ask.

  “Clinical depression in his early twenties. Therapy tailed off but he’s still on Prozac. He was prescribed Cialis when he complained that the Prozac was killing his sex drive.”

  “Three out of five. Does brick have any known interactions with Viagra or Cialis?”

  “No, but brick could perform the same function. We know the euphoric effect comes from increased circulatory flow and higher blood-oxygen content as well as the drug binding to opioid receptors in the brain. It could stimulate erections. Also, there’s nothing to say the other two weren’t taking Viagra or Cialis, just because they didn’t have prescriptions. You can buy the damned stuff online and have it shipped right from Canada.”

  Interesting. I rub my chin as I consider. “Right, let’s call Ed so I can update you both.”

  Michael pulls a handset off the conference room’s credenza and sets up the call. He puts Ed on speaker and after, a quick greeting, I recap the CCTV footage and conclude with, “At least three of our five were taking prescription medications for erectile dysfunction. Michael says brick could serve the same function as Viagra or Cialis. I think it’s plausible that our victims took it to either address their dysfunction or enhance performance. Today’s test should tell us whether the guests can get the brick on board in a pill bottle, but given the search of my cabin, I think we have to accept that the distributor is part of the ship’s staff.”

  Both Michael and Ed are silent. I know this is something neither of them wants to hear.

  “Look,” I say to soften the blow. “We’ve got a much better chance of shutting it down if the distribution is onboard. If guests are bringing the brick through security, they could be getting it anywhere and I don’t see any way we could stop it. This isn’t just about satisfying your insurers, it’s about guest safety.”

  Ed clears his throat. “Of course. It just hurts to think that one of our own people is dealing.”

  I can see how that would sting.

  “If it’s any consolation, I’ve seen no sign of it. Your staff are caring and professional.” With the exception of Dan Reyes. “Without wanting to cause problems with your internal security, I asked Dan Reyes for staff rotas during our interview.” I check my phone to make sure I haven’t received an email from him while I’ve been on the beach. Nothing. “As of right now, he hasn’t sent them to me. Any reason why?”

 

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