The Daddy P.I. Casefiles: The First Collection Frost, J (good beach reads .TXT) 📖

committee or taken any role that I know of. He’s also unattached, since his partner died of cancer a few years back, and it’s helpful, although not required, for the Master of Training to have sex with the house submissives. “Okay, fine. I’ll have a word.”

“There’s a dear.” Maude pats my hand.

My balls don’t fall off, but I do roll my eyes at Emily, who giggles into her teacup.

* * *

At twenty hundred, Emily and I leave Maude and Javier lingering over cheese and dessert wine while we make our way upstairs. That the dungeons at Blunts are upstairs is just one of the club’s endearing ironies.

I can feel Emily’s eyes on me as we mount the staircase that wouldn’t be out of place in Buckingham Palace. I struggled with the stairs when we first came back to the club a month ago, and occasionally had to admit defeat and use the lift. But my leg doesn’t even twinge as I walk up them tonight. As we reach the top, Emily gives me a soft smile.

“No pain, Daddy?”

“No pain, little girl. Guess that means I won’t have to use Freddo on you after all.”

She makes a face that’s equal parts angry koala and relieved kitten, which has me chuckling. Freddo is the biggest butt plug I own, seven inches in diameter. The plug’s more a novelty than anything else since I’ve never seriously considered using it on any of my subs. Emily’s seen Freddo in my toy chest. Her anxiety when I mentioned that I might use it to slow her down so I could keep up with her on stairs was utterly adorable. Even with a normal-sized plug like Stanley, she struggles with stairs when she’s plugged, and complains that the plug makes her walk like a duck. Which is a little true. And warms every cockle of my sadistic heart.

At the top of the stairs there’s a security door similar to the one in the lobby. It opens to my thumbprint and an eight-digit code that we change weekly. With the manned outer door, this might seem like excessive security, but sex clubs are illegal in New York City, or so the club’s lawyer tells us, so we have a couple of layers of insulation.

Beyond the security door, there’s a vestibule with an oak desk more imposing than the check-out desk at the New York Public Library. A huge digital board hangs behind the desk, listing the club’s twenty-five dungeons and play spaces. All but five are lit, which is normal for a Sunday night. The Long Gallery, Upper and Lower Library, Stocks, and Roof Garden are open tonight. My eyes track down the board to the Blue Harem Room, which is my preferred play space at the club. It’s lit, showing the room’s reserved, with my member number in black letters on an amber background with a silver star next to the numbers. The black letters indicate a scene with both domination and sex, the amber background tells my club brothers and sisters that the scene’s open for anyone to watch but not participate, and the silver star allows any submissive to watch as well.

I quickly take in the rest of the board. Lots of friends here tonight. I see from the member numbers that Ten has reserved a room for a punishment scene. There’s a gold star above his number, excluding the house submissives. Probably means Briar is the unlucky victim. Again. Harry’s here, too. I haven’t seen him since before I was injured, so I might try to catch him after his scene if Emily doesn’t need to be put to bed immediately. I don’t see Theo’s member number, so if he’s here, he hasn’t reserved a play space. Maybe I’ll send him a text and see if he can meet for coffee.

As I’m evaluating the board, Austin rises from behind the desk. He bows and waits for me to acknowledge him.

I give it a moment, to reinforce the difference in our roles from the party yesterday, where I was his friend and host, to tonight, where I’m a Dom and one of his employers. Finally, I say, “’Evening, Austin.”

“Good evening, Master Logan. How may I serve you?”

“Everything ready?”

“Yes, sir. Blue Harem room’s ready for you, and here’s your key card for room thirty.” He sets a white plastic card that looks like any hotel room key on the top of the desk. “Can I have anything sent up for you?”

“Nope.” The rooms all have minibars, stocked with water, soft drinks, and snacks at pretty much the same exorbitant prices as any hotel mini-bar, and the restaurant kitchen is open for room-service until two. I brought a sports drink and some of Emily’s juice boxes in case we get thirsty during the scene or before bed, but if we need anything else, I’ll hit the minibar. “Have a good night. Thanks for coming to the party yesterday. We’ll do it again soon.”

“Have a good night, sir. Thank you again for having me. I’d love to come to the next one. May I hug your submissive before you go?”

I smile at his courtesy. The last time we were here, Rachel was manning this station and not only wasn’t there any courtesy, but Rachel pulled another of her little scenes. Which is probably what led to Emily having a go at her later in the night. Which led to Emily’s hour in the playpen. Austin’s behaving exactly the way a house submissive should behave, and that’s what I want to see at my club.

All the more reason for Rachel and her master not to be part of it anymore.

When I give him permission, Austin bounces around the desk like an overgrown puppy and sweeps up Emily in a huge hug. He’s naked except for black spandex shorts that nearly disappear against his skin, but I don’t even feel a twitch of jealousy as he wraps all that skin around Emily. I smile at the two