Chapter 9 #2
He sounded amused, as if he’d already known.
Of course he did. Sam clocked my needs, kinks, wants as easily as if I’d written them on paper.
An icy gel rubbed around my long neglected back-hole and I clenched as the tip of his finger pressed inside me.
“There’s something incredibly arousing about the way you touch me. ”
“Tell me all about it, babygirl. Do you like your pretty pucker touched? Or do you like the idea of me taking care of you?”
Sam slowly inserted the glass thermometer inside bit by bit until his hand rested on my ass.
The thermometer wasn’t thick or long but the way it nudged nerves that hadn’t been stroked in ages had me moaning.
“Yes, Daddy… the way you take care of me and make the choice for me. Because you know I’ll let you. ”
“Ah, I wasn’t sure if you’d let me. That’s such a big realization to have from a tiny bit of medical kink, sweetheart. Perhaps I should do this more often.” He twirled the rod once.
“What? No way. That’s not what I’m saying at all!” I whipped my head over my shoulder. “You aren’t listening. Maybe someone should check out your ears.”
Sam cracked the palm of his free hand against my sit spots.
“Ow! Ow! Quit it!”
“Watch your tone, little wildflower.”
“You better not do this all the time!” I raised up and down on my toes as if I could knock his hand loose from my lower half.
“Since you can’t keep still, Daddy can’t get an accurate reading.” Sam tugged the thermometer out with a soft pop.
My moment of victory was short lived when the sound of leather being pulled through loops reached my ears. “I’ll stay still, Daddy.”
“After I’m through with you, I’m sure you will. Now I’m going to remind you not to be disrespectful or raise your voice at me.”
“But–”
“Hush, Mickie. When your naughty little ass is red hot and wearing a few stripes, we’ll check your temperature again.”
Shit. I should have been quiet. Should have been more compliant.
But my go-to defense mechanism was brat first. Hard.
At least I was consistent. The first strike landed on my sensitive upper thighs.
I yelped, but stayed in one place. The next two were in the same location and the burn was immediate. “Ouch! Please, Daddy!”
“Stay still.”
Sam landed one more with the belt. He had way too much precision with it. I wondered if I should consider buying a cushion to carry around with me, so that I’d be semi-comfortable on hard chairs.
“I’m sorry for questioning you, Daddy.”
“You’re forgiven, babygirl.”
Sam kneaded his fingers into each one of my bottom cheeks.
It wasn’t pleasant but it didn’t hurt as bad as the leather strap.
He returned the implement to his waist and snapped on a new pair of gloves.
Regardless of what sort of things were running through my head, I needed to relax.
His gloved hand spread my cheeks revealing my naughty hole to his gaze.
This time the thermometer slid home without the benefit of a slow warning.
I moaned as the glass rod tickled my nerves as if we didn’t both know that I enjoyed it.
“I’m really very sorry, Daddy.”
“I already forgave you. What else are you apologizing for?” He prompted holding the instrument deep inside me.
“I was listing excuses. All these reasons in my head and a few out loud about why I can’t assist you. I wasn’t going to stay but there isn’t a solid reason why I can’t take the time. Other than overthinking like I tend to do.”
“Hm. Is this all I needed to do to get you to open up? Spank your ass and check your temperature? This feels too easy,” he said chuckling.
“Well, it worked. It would probably work anytime I’m stressed out, but I’ll never say it again.”
Sam was ridiculously smart. I figured it wouldn’t be the last time I’d be bent over a surface with my rosy ass higher than my body, a rectal thermometer sticking out of it like a white flag in surrender.
And I supposed it was in a lot of ways. Submitting to Sam.
Submitting to my desires. Allowing my Daddy to take care of me.
He slowly removed the instrument and fixed my pants.
“No fever. Must have been nerves, Mickie.”
“Must have been.” I waited for him to help me back to my feet. Sam kissed me once then went to the sink to dispose of his gloves. I unlocked the front door and slowly sank back into the chair at the reception desk wincing from the lingering burn on my bottom cheeks.
“So, what do you say? Will you stay and help run this office? It shouldn’t be hard. Doc cancelled most of his appointments. He spread the word that we’ll be more of an urgent care until he returns from Costa Rica.”
“If it’s not that much work, you don’t really need me,” I said quietly. I shouldn’t have needed any additional convincing. But it wouldn’t hurt.
“Stay anyway. Then I get to see your beautiful face every day.”
Well, that did it. “Money is sort of tight.”
“Another excuse. You have paid time off. That information came directly from you,” he corrected.
He was right again, and I was running out of my laundry-list of excuses. “It’s just that maybe I don’t want you to have readily available tools at your disposal.”
“Well, sweetheart, I have all these same tools at the cabin. I want you here with me. Two weeks would give you a break from that job you hate. Show you how easily you’d fit in here again. Enough time to convince you that your life is here with me, Mikayla.”
“Forever?”
Sam wrapped his arms around me from the side, kissing my temple. “Yes. Forever if you’ll stop overthinking. You’re my girl. Stay.”
“Yes, Daddy. Okay, I’ll stay. I’ll make arrangements and stuff.
But only for two weeks.” I affirmed knowing that no matter what happened it wouldn’t take much to show me how much better life could be in his arms, in his bed.
It didn’t mean I’d quit my job immediately and pack up, but it was a start.