Chapter 3
three
EMILY
Daddy thinks he’s being sly. Like I don’t know him so well by now that I can read his mood as soon as he walks into the room.
Today, as he returns from the management committee meeting, he’s super-tense. His muscles are so rigid I could bounce a quarter off his biceps. He’s wearing a full frowny. But he jokes as he dresses me for the day like everything’s fine.
I can dress myself, of course but I always wait for him.
Dressing me relaxes him. It’s not only that he needs the control of picking my clothes—and often a kinky accessory or two, today it’s the evil, wire nipple clamps—but also focusing on me clears his mind.
My friend Cynnie calls it “doing the daddy.”
He relaxes as he “does the daddy.” By the time he’s pulled on my purple and black thigh-highs, a hot pink corset with the half-cups so he can torture my poor nips, and a flounced vintage smock over a pleated, black leather skirt, he’s smiling.
Hearing me whimper as he fixes the clamps in place brings the light back to his eyes.
After he laces me up, he helps me into a cropped cardi and kisses me on the forehead.
“You look gorgeous, baby doll. I know I tell you all the time how much I love seeing you in these clothes . . . what do you call them again?”
“Goth fairy, Daddy.”
“I feel like I’m looking at your soul, my baby.” He twirls his finger in the air and I spin for him. “Mmm.”
He strokes the inch of thigh that shows between the bottom of my skirt and the top of my thigh-highs.
“Can I put on some cat ears? They complete the outfit.”
“Of course.”
I take out black furry ears on a headband and pop them on top of my curls. I don’t know what it is about wearing the cat ears—or puppy ears, they make me feel the same—but I love them. I feel cute in the goth fairy clothes Cynnie’s helped me assemble but I know I’m cute when I’m wearing ears.
I take Daddy’s hand and dance at his side down the stairs to the room where the breakfast buffet is served.
Daddy has a ridiculous number of friends at Blunts, even though he was worried about whether he had enough to win the vote for Master Mac’s membership, so it’s never just us when we eat at the club. This morning, we’re at a big, round table with a dozen subs and Dom(mes).
I smile at everyone. There are some tense faces, and a few that are too impassive, probably masking their tension.
One of the impassive faces is Mistress Caddy, with whom Daddy has a complicated relationship.
In part because she’s a complicated lady.
Master Javier mentioned to Daddy a while ago that she was molested as an adolescent by her own uncle, David, while he was the chairman of Blunts.
That started me down a rabbit-hole and although Blunts’ own records have been heavily redacted, I am a Research Goddess?.
Master Javier doesn’t know the half of it, or he didn’t tell Daddy if he does.
Master David was a monster. His modus operandi was to give his underaged victims intoxicants.
He then staged gladiatorial-type scenes where he provided them with weapons.
He fought them, beat them, and raped them.
Mistress Caddy’s whole family suffered under David’s regime, especially her brother, Bram, who is still on suicide watch over a decade later at an in-patient facility upstate.
Mistress Caddy was instrumental in bringing David down, even though she was only twenty-one when she did it.
David sponsored her when she became the youngest-ever member of Blunts.
She got him removed as chairman and then helped prosecute him.
He’s serving seven consecutive 25-year sentences at Five Points in permanent solitary confinement due to threats on his life from other prisoners.
I wondered more than once when I was doing my research if Mistress Caddy hadn’t funded some of those threats.
I give her an extra-bright smile. There’s a man sitting next to her who came to our Day-Before-Halloween-Halloween-Party but I didn’t get to talk to him. I claim a chair next to him once Daddy and I are through the buffet line.
His name is Finn and he’s Caddy’s submissive, which I could have guessed by how he glances at her, seeking approval, every few minutes. His accent is noticeable and when I ask him a question in French, he eagerly responds in the same language.
We chat all through breakfast. He tells me about how he and Caddy met, through a modern art museum where he had an exhibit and where Caddy’s a major benefactor.
He tells me about some of the wonderful scenes they’ve done.
Her sadistic streak is no surprise but she also has a playful side I wouldn’t have guessed.
I tell Finn about the fairytale scenes Daddy and I are planning.
The longing I see in his eyes makes me wonder if Finn has a bit of little in him.
While I’m talking with Finn, Master Ten pulls up a chair and squeezes in on Caddy’s far side. He grunts at Master Mac, sitting a few seats away, glances at Daddy, and starts in on his breakfast.
Those are some weighty looks. Daddy didn’t tell me who he thought might oppose Master Mac’s application for membership but it’s clear Master Ten did.
That’s probably not a surprise since Mac’s fiancée used to be one of Master Ten’s unofficial harem when she was a house submissive.
There were hard feelings when Brenna resigned from the club, and although Master Ten partied with us at Halloween, it’s looking like not everyone’s feathers have been unruffled.
Daddy grumbles to Mistress Maude, who is sitting on his far side. Then he takes a sip of tea.
I’ve been waiting for him to try his tea, since I switched his usual Earl Grey for turmeric while he was getting an extra helping of scrambled eggs.
“Emily,” he growls.
I lean against his firm shoulder and blink up at him innocently. See, this is the super-power of the cat ears. No one could think me guilty of anything while I’m wearing cat ears.
“This is not the tea I got,” he complains. “Would you know anything about that, trouble?”
“Turmeric tea is better for you.” I squirm in my chair. “But I don’t want to be in trouble.”
A tolerant smile teases the edges of Daddy’s lips.
“Just a little bit of trouble,” he grumbles, then softens it with a wink.
“Tickling-level trouble?” I ask with a wiggle.
Daddy stretches his arm around the back of my chair and leans in to rub noses.
“Could be,” he says.
“Tickling with orgasms?”
“I’ll consider tickling with orgasms if you ask Master Ten to play the Pied Piper.”
There was a time when I’d have done anything to get out of asking one of the Blunts masters to participate in a scene.
My introduction to them after Daddy was injured was overwhelming and people aren’t always my best thing.
But most of them have gone out of their way since then to make me feel at home.
Although he was really mean to Brenna and is at odds with Daddy and Mac now, I’m not afraid of Master Ten anymore.
I grin up at him. “I can do that.”
“Good girl.” He kisses my forehead, sits back in his chair, and takes a sip of tea before he remembers. “About this tea.”
I blink at him. Look at me, all innocent in my cat ears.
“If you drink that whole cup, I’ll get you a cup of Earl Grey,” I wheedle.
“If I tell you to get me a cup of Earl Grey, little girl, you’ll get me a cup of Earl Grey.”
“Of course, Daddy. But it would be better for you to drink the turmeric tea first.”
He shakes his head at me, because we both know he’s going to drink the turmeric tea. I try hard to take care of him and, even though he stages a token resistance, he appreciates my efforts.
“Does Daddy get a kiss for every sip?”
I grin. “Absolutely.”
He holds his nose and gulps down half of the cup, then points to his mouth. “Kiss.”
I beam at him, lean in, and press my lips to his.
He lets me get away with a gentle peck for a second, before he bites down on my lip until I shiver and squeak.
He laves away the little hurt with his tongue before he masters my mouth with his.
When he pulls back, I’m panting. He runs his knuckles down my cheek until I can focus again.
“Don’t you want another sip, Daddy?”
He taps the tip of my nose. “Not really but I definitely want another kiss.”
My answering giggle makes his eyes light up.
Daddy tucks me under his arm as we walk from the subway to his townhouse.
Every step we get closer to our house, he relaxes further.
Daddy treats the club as his second home but sometimes it’s more like a visit with prickly in-laws.
Particularly now that Mac and Brenna have moved in with us and we’re starting to realize Daddy’s desire for an extended family home, he’s happiest at the townhouse.
It doesn’t hurt that we have Cappa and Austin with us. Daddy acts like it’s an imposition for our friends to stay with us but I know he actually loves it. After Daddy’s daughter arrives, we’ll have even less space but I doubt Daddy will discourage any of our friends from staying over.
Inside, my kitty greets us at the door with purrs and a lashing tail. I give him the petting he demands before turning him over to Brenna and then to Cappa, who carries Sable through to the kitchen after we all take off our shoes and line them up by the door.
I prepped dinner before we left for the club yesterday, so all I have to do is take everything out of the fridge and pop it in the oven.
I pull out a tray of snacks as well since the men always get the munchies while they’re watching sports.
They’ve already settled on the couches in the living room to watch some team take on another team.
I don’t want to offend Daddy but I can’t keep the teams straight and have to Google who is playing every time.