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

The Western Room is, as the name suggests, western-themed. The deer antler chandelier is a little much to my eye, but the room has what I need for this scene: a wooden horse, or chevalet.

The horse is folded in a corner, along with a leather case of interchangeable top-pieces, or rails, of various shapes and widths. I particularly like this version of the horse; a big step up from the basic block of pyramidal wood on legs that I learned on at Jasmine House. The different rails make it completely customizable to suit the experience the Dom wants the sub to have. It’s also innocuous-looking, if you don’t know what it’s for, and Emily doesn’t look at it when we enter the room. Instead, her eyes are drawn towards the far wall of the room where there’s a long display of coiled whips.

I’m not particularly good with a whip, although Niall has offered to give me some lessons while he’s visiting next month, but I wouldn’t use a whip to punish Emily in any event. She does best with discipline that breaks down her defenses, allows her time to think about her wrongdoing, and gives her a catharsis. That’s why I like the playpen. I could have used the playpen for this punishment, but I’ve had enough of the cat-fights, so I’m raising the stakes exponentially with the wooden horse.

I let her stare at the whips while I settle our bags on a cowhide footstool and move a spanking bench out of the way. She’s so fixated on the whips that she doesn’t notice when I take the horse from the corner and set it up in the middle of the room. I lock the legs into place, then select a flatter, one-inch-wide rail, set it in place, tighten the screws at either end of the bar, and wipe it down thoroughly with an antibacterial wipe. With this rail, Emily’s skin shouldn’t split, but that’s always a risk with a wooden pony and the last thing I want to do is give Emily an infection.

Once the horse is ready, I open my toy bag and take out Emily’s satin blindfold. She’s still staring at the whips when I walk up behind her.

“What do you think about a whipping scene when Niall visits next month?”

She shivers. I wrap my arms around her, letting the blindfold dangle from my hand, and kiss the curve of her little ear.

“Emmy, answer me,” I murmur into her ear when she’s silent for too long.

She shakes herself out of whatever spell the whips have cast over her. “Sorry, Daddy. I, um, I would like that but I’d be really scared, too.”

I give her ear another smooch. “I think, with Niall’s help, we could do a scene that would be more exciting than scary.”

She twists her neck so she can smile up at me. “Okay, Daddy.”

“That’s my brave girl.” I kiss her temple. “Can you be very brave for me now? I want you to close your eyes. I’m going to put the blindfold on you. Then I’m going to take the plug out and take off some of your clothes before I cuff you and put you on the wooden pony.”

Her eyes widen and she tries to look over my shoulder, but I tuck her a little tighter against me so she can’t get a good view.

“W-w-wooden pony?”

“Yes, sweetheart. I’m going to have you ride a chevalet. It’s on the list of possible punishments, remember? I know you haven’t ridden one before. I know you’ll be scared. You always have the same choice, to submit to me or not. If you use your safe word, I won’t hold it against you. You know I won’t.”

“I know, Daddy. B-but—”

“No, no buts, little love. Will you accept your punishment? Do you want to submit to me?”

Her eyes clear and she nods. “Yes, Daddy. Always.”

“That’s my good girl.” I kiss her forehead before I bring the mask up and fasten it over her eyes.

She takes a shaky breath. I turn her around in my arms and kiss her until we’re both breathing hard. While we’re kissing, the door opens and closes, and when I turn around, Maude is perched in one chair, Javier in another, while Ten stands in the middle of the room with his heavily muscled arms crossed over his chest. His vest bares several of the “X” tattoos that are the basis of his club name. In full leathers, he looks ready to play, even though I didn’t see his number on the board.

I acknowledge them with nods, but don’t say anything as I lead Emily over to the horse. Once we’re within easy reach, I stop her and guide her hands to the rail for balance as I bend her over to take off her knickers and remove the plug.

“Emily, what’s your safe word?” Ten asks in his baritone rasp.

“Dominoes or red, sir.” She doesn’t stutter but her voice is so small. She’s frightened, my little girl, but this isn’t the time for me to comfort her. That will come later.

“Have you ever ridden a rail before?” he asks.

“No, sir.”

Ten’s hard, blue eyes flick to me and he nods, although his perpetual scowl doesn’t lighten. I’m not sure what he’s approving, but since he’s one of the club’s more serious sadists, I suspect it’s the mode of punishment. I’m not much for club gossip, but I know that Ten and Karl and their cabal consider me a “soft” sadist. Since their approval of my kink isn’t something I’ll ever give a single fuck about, I’ve never made any effort to correct their impression.

I pop the plug into a baggie to clean later and remove Emily’s skirt, leaving her in the adorable thigh highs. They’ll prevent her legs from sticking to the horse’s sides. Goose bumps break out over her hips as her skirt drops to the floor. The room’s comfortably warm, so that’s anxiety, not a chill. I rub her thighs and hips gently before