A Pale Fire
Chapter 14
AN: Thanks for the song recs, and thanks to Darcysmom and torisufergirl for betaing. It took me forever to write this, so I hope you like it.
Playlist:
All I've Ever Needed by Nikki Reed and Paul McDonald.
Between the Raindrops by Lifehouse ft. Natasha Beddingfield
Miss Atomic Bomb by The Killers
Feel Again by Onerepublic
Up by James Morrison ft. Jessie J
Too Close by Alex Clare
Shewolf by David Guetta ft. Sia
Titanium by David Guetta ft. Sia
There was a bite in the air as the wind whispered over my skin and ruffled through my hair. The sun peeked out through the clouds, bathing the park where we resided in warmth and light. I leaned back against the tree trunk, my fingers stroking through the silken tresses of Isa's hair as she lay with her head in my lap. A book rested on her bare stomach where her T-shirt had ridden up over her navel, the spine stretching as it made a tent to keep her place. Minion wasn't far off from where we lounged comfortably on a blanket in the shade, playing with some other dogs.
Blossom petals fell down around us like a shower of pale pink snow, gliding and swirling on their path toward earth and landing gently onto the ground around us. The scent of pollen was potent and heavy, almost overwhelming, as it hung in the air and enveloped us in its sweetness.
Isa had been surprised when I had woken her up and told her that we were going out. Usually, we would have breakfast and go straight into playtime on a Saturday morning, but we had things that we needed to discuss, and I didn't want to be cooped up in her apartment for it. We had gleaned over the shift in our Daddy/little girl relationship that we wanted to put into effect, but I wanted to set aside real time to go over everything.
Things had been a little up and down between Isa and I since the family brunch—the honeymoon phase of our relationship ending as we argued for the first time. Isa wasn't passive-aggressive when it came to her feelings. She was passionate and loud and didn't hold anything back, and I met her tit for tat. We were both irrationally defensive when it came to our pasts, but, in the end, we came to the conclusion that we both overreacted and then talked it out calmly.
It wasn't the fact that I hadn't told her about my three-year dating sabbatical from the beginning that pissed her off—she could understand that to a certain degree—so much as the fact that I had waited months to tell her, when I had had ample opportunity to fill her in. She hadn't minced her words when she told me that our relationship wouldn't work if I didn't talk to her about these kind of things. She understood that I was a private person, and she didn't expect me to suddenly start pouring my heart out to her, but she needed me not to underestimate her and make decisions for her based on how the other women in my life had been.
As much as her words had smarted, she was right in her assessment, and I wanted us to move forward without the baggage of past relationships weighing us down. If I clung to my past, then there was no way that I could move forward, so I promised to make the effort to start with her on a blank slate.
It was something that we both needed to work on, but now that we had addressed it, we could work on it.
Isa had admitted that her own past had led her to have some lingering insecurities that stemmed from a negative relationship. She'd been a young and naive sophomore student, and he'd been a dick. It was before she even recognized her desires for what they were. When she asked him to be a little rougher and a little more commanding during sex, and he had told his friends and made fun of her behind her back, she'd partially closed that part of herself off.
It was one of the reason that she had been hesitant to ask for more, and while she had successfully pushed past it for the most part, there were still times when she froze up. She didn't want to compromise what we had, and she was afraid of pushing me into something I didn't want just because she wanted it. We decided that, on the whole, we needed to be completely honest with each other about our own needs and desires so that we could avoid a repeat of her past.
"Baby, you ready to talk?" I asked softly, shifting my legs into a more comfortable position and jostling her slightly.
Her lids fluttered open slowly, and a gentle sigh slipped past her lips as she stretched, arching her back off the blanket. She sat up, craning her neck and extending her arms above her head while a quiet yawn escaped before twisting around to face me. She pressed her cheek into my shoulder while her arms snaked around my waist, and she slipped one of her legs in between mine.
"I'm ready."
I loved how affectionate she was with me. Even in a public setting, she didn't shy away. Instead, she drew me closer. A part of me almost wished we had talked more about this last night, but Friday nights were for us as a couple to reconnect after the stress of the week.
I licked my lips, my mind running in circles as I worked out how to start the conversation. "I...what exactly do you want from me as your Daddy?"
Nobody ever told you how difficult it could be to navigate through these kinds of conversations. Acting on them? Easy, natural even. Talking and discussing it? Hard as fuck. The main thing we needed to figure out was how high on the spectrum we wanted to go. There were certain BDSM elements that we liked, but others we weren't sold on. We had started with the basics, focusing on the submission and control aspects more than the rules and rituals. I wasn't interested in forcing Isa to engage in anything undignified or humiliating. I didn't want her eating out of a dog's bowl or acting like a BDSM slave.
On the other hand, the thought of her kneeling and begging turned me on, as did the thought of leashing her and making her crawl for me. Those were acts that I wouldn't deny wanting, but we needed to define our limits more thoroughly than we had before. It wasn't that we hadn't taken our relationship seriously, but it had been more of an experiment to test the waters and dip our feet in the waters. Now that we had more of a clearer picture of where we were heading, we had to start taking the necessary precautions.
"I want more freedom to be little. I don't want the vanilla and kinky aspects of our relationship to be separated anymore. I don't want to hold back and bite my tongue when the need to be little bubbles up. When we're alone, I want to be the me that I've been denying for so long. I want to indulge in the side of me that I've hidden away, thinking that I was holding onto silly, childish ways. In the beginning, I thought it was just a phase, a passing fancy. I was a grown, independent woman with a job, an apartment, and real responsibilities. But time went by, and I was still drawn to little things, things that have started to once again fill my wardrobe and my life. I misunderstood my inclinations and my feelings, thinking that I just didn't want to grow up and face life, but, now, I know that it's part of who I am, that it's a part of my sexuality and femininity.
"These past few months with you where we've tested ourselves has opened my eyes. I've always thought of my fetish as a dirty little secret meant to be hidden away, but now I know that there is nothing wrong with holding onto that space where I can play, be free, and feel safe. I look at pictures of myself of when I was a kid, and I look so serious all the time. I just want to put that girl in pigtails and give her some bubbles and send her outside to have fun. As a child, I was too busy fretting over fitting in and going back and forth between my parents to really enjoy my childhood. If I could go back in time and give myself some advice, I would tell my younger self to relax and that there would be plenty of time to be perfect and grown up later, but I can't."
I nodded slowly, digesting her words. I wasn't surprised by her declaration; the clarity of how we were going to do this settling in my mind. I cleared my throat and swallowed, licking my dry lips as my mind pieced everything together.
"So, you want it all," I stated. "You want the rules. You want the do's and don'ts made to my specifications. You want me to actively control your day to day life."
She nodded timidly, her expressive eyes wide and shining with hope. "I know it's a lot, but there's this feeling in my gut that cries out for the complete absence of control. I've done my research, and I know that there are countless ways to have a relationship like this. I just need you to understand that this goes way beyond kinky sex for me. I want someone to take care of me, to hold sole responsibility and to provide for me. I want more than just fucking. I want the affection, the intimacy, and the commitment."
What she said was a reiteration of what we had previously discussed, only more intense. Where, initially, she had requested this dynamic in our relationship in small doses, her confidence had built to the point where she was ready to take the next step and make it more permanent. This wasn't something we were just trying out anymore. We had dipped our toes in the edge of the water and were now willing to take the plunge. Having someone to guide her through the vulnerability, someone willing to take part of the fear and uncertainty, was the focal point of D/s relationships, and the very definition of what intimacy was.
"If we do this, then I want us to set Fridays aside for us as a couple. I want to still be able to take you out on dates and be with you as my equal." My words weren't so much a request as a demand, and it would be the first of many.
She nodded vigorously. "I don't want to lose that part of us. I just need you to be an active force in my life."
I rubbed my thumb over my jaw thoughtfully. "I don't want us to rush blindly into this. Let's not forget that we are both still new to this dynamic. I think we should start out easy, acclimate ourselves to the new shift until I feel more confident and comfortable in fully taking the reins. So, here is my proposal: Fridays will be reserved for dates so that we can connect and talk as a couple. Saturday and Sunday will be playtime. In the week, if the need ever arises for you to be little, don't hold back—I'm only a phone call away. That being said, I feel that with these changes in our relationship, we'll be seeing a lot more of each other."
"Okay," she agreed after a long moment, having mulled over the logistics and found my idea acceptable. "That sounds like a good starting point."
"But," I added, jumping right into my next point. "There will be certain rules that you will have to follow during the week whether I'm there or not. One: I want you well-groomed and bare at all times. Two: Your orgasms now belong to me. I don't care if you choose to fuck yourself on a dildo every day of the week, if you come without my explicit permission then you will be punished."
"How will you know if I cum or not?" she asked cheekily, her eyes dancing with mischief.
I quirked an eyebrow. "Honestly, I won't, but you will, and you don't want to disappoint Daddy, now, do you?"
She shook her head, her eyes downcast and a chagrined expression on her face. I was counting on her need to please me and the guilt of disappointing me to curb her need to break that particular rule.
"Good girl. I want you to send me a detailed plan of the meals you generally eat, and while I'm willing to give you some slack in regards to your diet, there will be certain things that you'll have to change. I don't want you skipping meals anymore, and it's important that you eat your five-a-day every day and keep properly hydrated. I want you to cut down your daily intake of coffee to only three cups a day.
"I also want you to keep a journal, recounting all your infractions in the week, which I will read each Saturday morning and decide how to punish or discipline you accordingly. You will keep me updated on your weekly schedule so that I know where you are at all times. I don't care if you're going grocery shopping or out to lunch with friends, I want to be informed so that I am aware of when you are available or not, am I understood?"
Each command I gave her fueled the sexual tension between us, the excitement and lust building to the point where her skin was flushed and her eyelids drooped as she gnawed on her bottom lip. Her chest heaved as she breathed in heavy, uneven breaths, and my cock swelled, pushing against the zipper of my jeans. It was difficult not to get distracted with the desire simmering beneath the surface, and I was sure that some of what I had already instructed her would have to be reiterated.
"Yes, Daddy," she practically whimpered.
I loved that instead of balking at my commands and scoffing at my rules, she thrived off my domination. She didn't argue or try to negotiate with me, she simply accepted my words as though the very thought of fighting them had not crossed her mind. Her actions solidified everything that she had told me about needing more, and I found myself eager to give her more of what she had craved for so many years.
"You are to be in bed by ten-thirty each night. I want you to get the right amount of sleep, but if, for some reason, you are unable to get to bed at the appropriate time, then I expect you to take a nap sometime during the day to make up for it. Any lapses in fulfilling your intended eight hours of sleep will be met by punishment, unless you specifically request an exception, which will have to be backed by a pretty good explanation for me to allow it, okay?"
She nodded her head somewhat hesitantly, her teeth nipping nervously at the skin of her bottom lip. "Yes, Daddy."
This particular rule may have seemed impossible to her, but there were underlining reasons that had nothing to do with sleep for it. I knew that out of all the rules I had given, she would struggle with having a curfew the most, resulting in many punishments. If there was anything I had learned about Isa, it was that getting things done on time was not her strong point. She may not be too pleased about it now, but at some point she would see that I was creating the kind of structure in her life that she tended to lack. I was forcing her to be more organized and disciplined with her time, and, eventually, it would seep into other parts of her life until it became a natural part of her.
"Good girl," I praised her. I leaned down, tilting my head to the side as she turned her face toward me and pressed a slow, deliberate kiss against her lips. She sighed, her mouth parting as her soft lips molded against mine. She fisted the front of my shirt, pulling herself up closer to me as I coaxed her lips apart, allowing my tongue entrance. Our tongues mingled, tasting and exploring at a languid pace, neither of us pushing for more.
I pulled back slowly, pushing her hair out of her face and smiled softly at her. She returned the smile, her cheeks flushed and dimples showing as I rubbed my nose against hers, loving the sound of her giggle when my hair tickled her skin. It was so innocent and carefree that I couldn't help but let a throaty chuckle escape.
"A few more things, Princess," I said, leaning back to give myself some room and clarity to think straight. "I want you to have an anal plug in for at least an hour each day to stretch you in preparation for my cock."
She let out a strained whimper at that, and I smirked, feeling my arousal spike as a shudder descended down her spine.
You like the thought of Daddy's cock in your ass, don't you?"
"Uh huh," she answered, peeking up shyly at me from under her thick lashes.
"Well, if you're a good girl and train your cute little ass to take more, then Daddy will reward you with that."
I didn't give her too many rules because I didn't want to overwhelm her too quickly. I was sure that as we continued, somewhere down the line I would add more, but I was content with the rules I had already given her, for now. I had originally debated on adding in an exercise plan, but between her daily walks with her dog and the fact that she attended a kickboxing class every Monday night, I figured that she had that aspect under control.
The rumbling of Isa's stomach drew us out of our little bubble, and she blushed an adorable pink. "I guess I should feed the monster," she said, laughing at herself as she reached for the bag of food we had picked up on the way—and by on the way, I mean we took a huge detour because Isa insisted that the food at a little Italian deli called Leo's Latticini or more commonly known as Mama's, was to die for.
I probably shouldn't have been surprised that the owners knew Isa personally and came out to chat and catch up, the English quickly descending into Italian, which Isa, of course, was fluent in. She got very animated and passionate when she was speaking, her arms flailing and her eyes sparkling, and I had to admit that I found it very sexy.
The scent of roast pork hit my nostrils making my mouth water as I focused on taking the offered sub and unwrapped it. I groaned loudly as I took my first bite. The fresh, fluffy bread hugged countless slices of warm, juicy roast pork beneath chunks of mozzarella and was topped off with cloves of roasted garlic, tomatoes, sweet red peppers, and mushrooms. I swear each flavor exploded on my tongue as I chewed and swallowed, licking any residue off my lips.
"It's good, right?" Isa chirped before taking a bite out of her own.
"Practically orgasmic," I mumbled around a mouthful of it.
She laughed and tucked a few stray hairs behind her ear. "As good as that duck I made on our third date?" she teased.
"It's a close second," I admitted, much to her amusement. All conversation ceased as we tucked into our food, little moans and grunts of appreciation the only thing breaking the silence between us.
"I want to discuss some of our limits," I started once I was done eating, cleaning my face and hands on a wet wipe which was in her bag. "I know we've previously gone over them, but now that we have a clearer idea on what we like and dislike, I think we should go over them again and see if our limits have changed."
She nodded in agreement and placed an overstuffed box of biscotti and pastries between us. "That makes sense. I know that there are certain things that I would like to delve deeper into."
I was immediately curious and intrigued. "Anything specific?" I questioned.
"Uhmm...forced nudity? I would like to try that," she said shyly. She'd previously not really been interested in that aspect, wanting to focus more heavily on the basics for her needs.
I took a bite of a flakey, spiced apple filled pastry, chewing slowly before swallowing. "I'm sure we can work something out. I want to bring up bathroom control as something to be reevaluated. I know it makes you a little squeamish, but I think it worked out in our last scene."
She groaned softly, hiding her face in her palms. "That was so embarrassing."
I cocked my head to the side, watching her intently. "Why, because I controlled and embarrassed you so thoroughly by making you go when I was pressed up right against you or because you enjoyed it?"
I spoke matter-of-factly without specific inflection in my tone, already knowing the answer to my question by the way he cheeks bloomed with color. Though she might deny it, minor humiliation aroused her, and—to me—that was a good quality for her to have as my Little. Every move I had made had been calculated, and I was slowly honing in on the art of manipulating her body so thoroughly that it took me little to no effort to bring her to the place she needed to be. I was training and coaxing her body to react to the dominant inside of me, and each time she slipped into her space with greater ease. It was becoming natural for her to act small and young, knowing that I was there to anchor her, in both body and mind.
Looking back, I could see that from the very beginning, I had used embarrassment and minor humiliation as a tool to help her feel small and vulnerable. It aroused her, while simultaneously forcing her to become dependent on me in a way that she couldn't achieve by herself. So much of BDSM was of the mind, and I used her subtle tells to find her triggers and use them to my advantage.
"Isa, it's nothing to be ashamed of," I soothed her, wanting her to know that how she felt and reacted was completely normal. "I get off on making you do those kind of things as much as you get off on doing them. Though, it does beg the question of how you would have reacted if I had rebuffed your request to wipe yourself and had done it personally."
She didn't answer straight away, but the subtle and unintentional signs of her desire said everything she couldn't. Her skin flushed and her pupils dilated as she blinked slowly, her tongue peeked out and ran slowly slowly over her plump lips as she struggled to formulate a response.
"I…" She paused, her eyelids fluttered for a moment before she glanced across the park, her fingers fidgeting. "It would have done what you set out for it to do."
I would have loved for her to admit to her arousal verbally, but she wasn't quite at that point yet, so I didn't push her for more.
Our bubble was burst by the appearance of Minion. She trotted over, tongue flopped out of her mouth as she panted heavily, tired from running around. She slumped down in the shade by Isa's side, and Isa stroked her behind her ears just how she liked it.
"You tired, baby?" Isa cooed, to which Mini answered with a huff.
"Maybe we should head on home?" I suggested before realizing what I had said. "I mean, your home."
If she noticed my slip, she made no mention of it, simply agreeing as she started to gather up all our stuff.
"Oh, that reminds me," Isa said as we stared walked back to her place, the blanket and bag in my hands while she held the dog's leash. "I know we both marked exhibition as something we were interested in, and I was thinking that maybe, if you agreed, that I could start a blog about us."
"What kind of blog?" I asked, though I had a pretty good idea of which direction her mind was heading in.
"A kinky one. It'll be like a journal of our time together and our journey through all this. I know that before I found out about my fetish, it was blogs that guided me in the right direction. Seeing people's real life quests into D/s inspired me, and to think that I, in turn, could do that for someone else excites me."
"So what, you want to write about all the dirty things I do to you?"
"Well, yes, but I also want others to see the intimacy we share through exploring our fetish, and maybe once we work up to it, we can maybe post some pictures and videos," she suggested. "Anonymously, of course."
I thought about what she said, my mind whirring with the possibilities. I couldn't deny that it turned me on to imagine what she was suggesting, never having been one to shy away from my own nudity. I knew Isa was also comfortable and confident in her body, but I was a little uncertain as to how I would react to others being able to see her—even partially naked—anonymous or not.
"A big part of me says yes, but I can't accurately anticipate how I would react to others seeing and commenting on any pictures or videos of you. You evoke the possessiveness inside me, and sometimes it's hard to control. I don't want to come off as insecure or as though I don't trust you, but you're mine, and I don't want others coming between what we have."
She seemed to think over her answer carefully before she spoke. "I guess I can understand where you're coming from, but we won't know unless we try. No one will actually know who either of us are—I would never jeopardize either one of our reputations like that—and maybe if we start slowly, we can both acclimate ourselves to it. Who knows, maybe I'll be the possessive one when all those hussies comment on my boyfriend and Daddy's hot body."
I laughed, relieved that instead of dismissing my concerns, she had taken them into consideration while also making light of it.
"I guess all that running does pay off," I teased, pretending to preen and flex my muscles.
She elbowed me softly in the gut. "Oh, get over yourself," she scoffed, though there was a laugh in her tone and in her eyes.
I drew her closer into my side, smiling to myself as she burrowed her face in my T-shirt, inhaling deeply. My hand slipped beneath the hem of her top, gliding my fingers over the soft, warm skin of her hip, pelvis and stomach. She squirmed, her steps faltering, but didn't comment or protest.
We finished the walk to her apartment in silence, immersed in a bubble of our own making. A twinge of anticipation fluttered in my gut as she unlocked the door to her apartment, taking off Minion's muzzle before bending over to unleash her. I took that time to ogle her ass in her jeans, the material molding around the round curves of her cheeks perfectly. When she straightened up, I took her hand and led her to her bedroom.
I grabbed the brush off her nightstand and sat the edge of her bed, my legs spread to make room for her body. I quirked an eyebrow at her, loving the shy smile curled up on her lips as she slipped silently over to where I was sitting. I hooked my fingers in the belt loops of her jeans, coaxing her body closer until she stood between my thighs.
My fingers worked deftly, undoing the button and sliding down the zipper of her jeans before I tugged them down her legs, leaving her in a pair of cute polka dotted panties. She stepped out of her jeans and kicked them to the side, and I turned her to sit between my legs.
She placed her palms flat against my thighs, the tips of her fingers rubbing against the material of my jeans as she snuggled deeper so that my hard cock nestled between her ass cheeks. I held back a groan, feeling my cock twitch as it registered how close it was to her pussy and adjusted myself into a more comfortable position.
I gathered her hair in my hands, welcoming the distraction, and pulled it all back over her shoulders before running the brush through her dark tresses. Though the action of brushing her hair was simple, it helped to relax both of us and washed away any lingering negative tension. There was a certain eroticism that came with it which mixed in with the intimacy. It moved liked the ebb and flow of a wave, slowly creeping up before receding, creating a soothing rhythm that lulled us into a peaceful, zen-like state. It was the perfect way to start a scene because it cleared our minds and centered us, allowing us to focus solely on the present.
I forewent doing anything elaborate, simply winding her hair into a loose braid that fell down her back. I twisted a hair tie into the base of the braid, securing it tightly.
"Princess," I murmured, leaning forward to speak directly into her ear. "I want you to put on something comfortable and easy to remove that you can wear in public, and make sure it has buttons down the front, okay?"
She shivered, whether it was from my words or the way my breath tickled her skin, I wasn't certain, but she nodded her assent and that was all I needed. "Yes, Daddy."
With Isa distracted, I went over to my overnight bag and rummaged through it until I found the collar I had purchased for her. I had placed it in a nondescript jewelry box, the hard black case light as I weighed the box in my hands.
Isa didn't take long to reappear, dressed in a strapless blue plaid dress with pale pink accents that dipped down a little between her breasts where the buttons started, giving a hint of the swells of her breasts. Below her breasts, the fabric twisted into a bow before continuing down, stopping at mid-thigh. Thigh high pink socks that had little bows at the top left only a sliver of her skin bare between her socks and dress. Heeled, lace-up ankle boots in faded navy gave her a couple of extra inches of height, but still held a certain innocent sexiness that always had my cock standing at attention.
I made a motion for her to twirl, making her spin for me so that I could get the full effect. The hem of her dress swished around the tops of her thighs, skimming the curve of her ass but not actually showing anything.
"Lift your skirt up," I instructed. She grasped it, her cheeks flushed with both embarrassment and arousal as inch by inch she eased the fabric higher until her deep purple, ruffled panties were visible, the material so thin that it was almost transparent.
"Come here." I curled my finger at her in a come hither gesture, and she walked over, hands clasped behind her back as she bounced on the balls of her feet. "I wanted to get you something special that not only said that you were mine, but showed you how much you mean to me. It's a pledge from me to you that, as your Daddy, I will protect you, care for you, do everything in my power to keep you safe from all harm—even if it is from myself—and never abuse your trust ."
She seemed cautious but excited when I offered the box to her, casting me a wary glance before she took it and slowly opened the lid. Nervous anticipation thrummed through my body as she let out a gasp of surprise, her fingers reaching out to touch the pink leather almost reverently.
"It's beautiful," she whispered, her tone laced with awe.
"And look," I told her, taking it from her grasp. "When I collar you, I will use this key to lock the padlock…"
I demonstrated, twisting the key in the heart-shaped padlock to show that the collar couldn't be removed without the key, which was in my possession.
She ohh'ed appropriately, her eyes wide and eager.
"I need you to promise me something before I collar you," I told her seriously. "I need you to promise me that this collar will be a reminder of trust, honesty, communication, and intimacy. If at any time, those things are no longer represented when you wear it, I want you to safe word immediately and refuse to wear it. I will ask you each time if I may have the esteemed privilege of collaring you, and it is up to you whether you accept it or reject it."
I held eye contact with her to convey the gravity of my words.
"I promise to only wear your collar when trust, honesty, communication, and intimacy are represented. I pledge to be the best Little I can be, to obey without hesitation, to trust without doubt, submit to you in both body and in mind, and give my best in everything you ask of me."
"And do you accept my collar?"
"Yes, Daddy."
Her words were all the confirmation I needed as I opened the collar and moved to place it on her. She lifted her hair off the back of her neck, her breath stuttering as the cool leather wrapped around her throat. I buckled and padlocked it securely, holding back the groan that bubbled up at seeing her marked as mine. The pale pink of the collar complemented her skin as it sat at the hollow of her throat. I had added a little tag with 'Daddy's Princess' etched into it, and I truly felt like she was mine now. Her eyelids closed briefly as she fingered her collar, acclimating herself to the feel of the leather restraining her from the inside out.
"Once playtime is over, I will give you your everyday collar," I informed her, remembering the simple gold band with a bow I had also purchased for her. "I will expect you to wear it at all times unless you are wearing your other collar. But for now, I want to focus on one of your limits: body modification. Are you still up for having your nipples pierced?"
She bobbed her head up and down vigorously, a few tendrils of hair escaping and falling into her face. She pushed them aside impatiently, tucking them behind her ear as she answered. "Yes, Daddy."
"I know we've both been busy recently and haven't gotten around to it, but I know you were eager to get them done, so I took the liberty of booking you an appointment for today at a special place that caters to people just like us."
Her eyes widened and her plump lips formed a surprised 'o' as she understood what I was saying. This was the first time that I had brought her into any environment that was anything like the dynamic we shared, and I knew the prospect was daunting for the both of us.
"What color are you?" I questioned.
"Green," she said, nervously gnawing at the flesh of her bottom lip. I stared deep into her eyes, not allowing her to shy away from my gaze as I searched them for the assurance I needed. It wasn't that I didn't trust her words; it was the fact that her need to please me sometimes outweighed her self-preservation, forcing me to play devil's advocate.
Once I was confident that she wasn't bluffing, I directed her to put on a cardigan while I pulled a soft, grey, v-neck sweater over my T-shirt. I pushed the sleeves up to my elbows and swept a hand through my hair, doing more harm than good to the unruly mop.
I could feel the trepidation she was emitting as I guided her out of her apartment. This was the first time she would be outside as my little girl, and by the way she clung to my side and peeked around shyly, she expected people to be able to notice how different she was. What she didn't understand was that most of the change took place inside, and while, yes, the innocence she possessed at these times was visible, it wasn't something that would be seen as negative.
She nibbled on her lip and fingered her collar, finding comfort in the confirmation that she was mine. I guided her into a taxi, sliding in next to her as I gave the driver the address I needed. It was strange to be outside, exposed and vulnerable, when I was used to being confined in Isa's apartment. I stroked Isa's thigh, letting my fingers glide higher before dipping down to skim over the inside of her thigh. She automatically spread her thighs more, and I leaned back, projecting the persona of someone who was calm and comfortable.
Her lips parted, pouting forward as I massaged her pussy over her panties, feeling the material dampen. She squirmed, swallowing tightly as her lids fluttered, but kept silent. Her hands balled into fists, her fingers flexing as I ran the back of my knuckles across her clit. My ministrations were sufficient in distracting her enough for her to forget her surroundings, but didn't give her the required amount of friction she needed to cum.
"Daddy," she whimpered, attempting to gain more pressure by rolling her hips forward, only to have me take my hand away. She buried her face in my neck, her hot little pants of breath making goosebumps rise on my skin.
"Princess," I murmured. "You cum when I say you can. Your orgasms belong solely to me now, and I expect you to ask for permission each time you need to cum unless I say otherwise. Have I made myself clear?"
She nodded, though I could hear the reluctance in her tone as she mumbled a quiet, "Yes, Daddy."
"Good girl," I praised her as the cab pulled up to the curb.
I thrust a couple of bills in the direction of the driver, telling him to keep the change as I stepped out and walked around to open the door on Isa's side. She took my offered hand and joined me on the sidewalk. Her arousal was clear in the flush of her cheeks and brightness of her eyes, and I couldn't help but feel a mixture of pride and smugness.
"There are a few things that you're going to have to remember while we are here," I told her. "You are to stand to my left, two steps behind me at all times and keep your eyes on the floor unless I tell you otherwise. You won't be required to say anything as I will be doing all the talking, but you are to be respectful and polite. Make no attempt to touch anyone except me and don't let anyone touch you without my command. If at any point you are unsure or uncomfortable, you are to gain my attention immediately and inform me of the problem. Do you remember your safeword?"
She nodded. "Vanilla."
I was pleased to hear that her voice was confident and didn't waver; her nerves seemed to have diminished on the journey over.
"Repeat what I just told you," I demanded, wanting to make sure she had taken it all in.
She let out a long breath. "Stand two steps behind you to your left and keep my eyes on the floor. Be respectful and polite, but let you do the talking. Don't touch anyone and don't let anyone touch me unless you say its okay. If I'm unsure or uncomfortable inform you immediately of the problem, and remember my safeword," she recited."
"Good girl." I planted a kiss on her forehead and started toward the tattoo parlor, Steel and Ink. It was Madame Rosa who had recommended the place to me, her sub, Felix—a.k.a. Muscles—was the owner of the establishment. I knew Isa held some slight trepidation when it came to needles, and since nipples were said to be one of the most painful parts of the body to pierce, it wasn't a stretch for me to realize that the process would go a lot easier if we were in an environment where she could lean fully on me. I had taken the choice out of her hands completely, creating a scenario where she didn't have to make any decisions or really put forth any effort that could end up with her changing her mind.
The bell above the door tinkled, catching the attention of the pink-haired woman with colorful tattoo sleeves behind the counter as we walked in, Isa keeping the appropriate distance behind me.
"Good afternoon, Sir. Do you have an appointment?" she inquired, a small smile playing at her lips. She surveyed us nonchalently, barely blinking at the sight of Isa's collar. While the woman didn't seem to be either a sub or Dom, it was obvious that she was used to seeing people like us come into the shop.
"Yes, I'm a little early, but I booked the two o'clock slot."
Her smile widened and her baby blue eyes sparkled. "Of course. We spoke on the phone earlier this week. You must be Edward and the cutie next to you must be your Little, Isabella."
Isa kept her eyes trained on the floor and stayed silent, her hands clasped behind her back. I was pleased that she was following my instructions without faltering, and I turned my attention back to the woman behind the counter.
"Heidi, right?" I guessed, recognizing her voice now that she had mentioned our phone call.
"That's me," she chirped. "I just need you fill out some paperwork and show some ID, and you will be good to go."
She took out a clipboard and a pen, while I took out Isa's drivers license which I had swiped from her bag this morning. She checked it over before handing it back along with clipboard.
"Make yourself comfortable while you fill that out and then we can get started."
I led Isa over to the waiting area, settling myself in a worn, leather overstuffed armchair. Isa hesitated a moment, her eyes raising to meet mine in a silent question before I pulled her to sit across my lap. She snuggled against me, tucking her legs beneath her as she rested her head on my shoulder.
It didn't take long to fill out the paperwork, most of it being about her health, allergies and the risks of infection. Once it was done, I handed it back to Heidi who looked it over before storing it away.
"Alright then, if you want to follow me to the back, we can get started."
She led us into a back room, and I helped Isa up onto the piercing station while Heidi washed her hands and donned latex gloves.
"Okay," Heidi said brightly. "I'm going to give you a quick run through of what is going to happen. First, I'm going to numb the area with some ice, which will also cause your nipples to pebble. I'll then wipe the area with disinfectant and mark where the needle will go before I clamp the nipple with a specially made clamp. Then, using a piercing needle, I will quickly pierce the nipple horizontally, leaving behind a small plastic tube. I'll then place the chosen bar through the tubing—the tubing keeps the piercing open so the bar can go through—and then remove the tubing, screwing the balls onto each end. There will be minimal to no bleeding, and the pain generally doesn't fully kick in till later. I'll give you a run through on how to take care of your piercing once it is done. Any questions?"
I glanced over at Isa who looked like she was attempting to chew right through her bottom lip. She swallowed, her gaze fixed on her lap as she slowly shook her head.
I placed a hand beneath her chin, forcing her to look at me. "What color are you, Princess?"
"Green," she mumbled.
"You don't have to do this if you're not ready," I reminded her.
She shook her head vigorously. "I want it. I just…can I sit on your lap?"
I glanced over at Heidi, quirking an eyebrow in question.
She shrugged. "It's a bit of an unorthodox request, but as long as you don't jostle her or get in the way, I don't see why not."
Isa immediately perked up at that, beaming at me. I chuckled and picked her up and sat down in the chair, my arms wrapping around her waist. She wiggled and squirmed until she was comfortable, her body relaxed as she leaned back against me.
"Okay, you need to remove your top, and then we can get started. Do you know what gauge you want?"
"Twelve," I answered, knowing from an earlier discussion we'd had on the semantics of the whole process.
"And it's a horizontal barbell you want?"
"Yes."
"Great. Let's get started then."
Isa looked up at me for guidance, and I leaned over, unbuttoning the top of her dress and folding it down beneath her breasts, exposing them. She shuddered as Heidi ran the ice over her nipples, pressing herself further into me and grasping my hands tightly in hers.
The whole process went by more quickly than I was expecting; the room was quiet apart from the low hum of music coming from the next room. Isa hissed when the clamp went on her nipple after it had been marked, securing it in place while Heidi picked up the piercing needle.
"Breathe in," she instructed Isa. "Good. Now, breathe out. Aaand... breathe in...breathe out..." And then she slid the needle in.
Isa gave a little pained whimper as she started to squirm, her grip on my hands painful.
"You okay to continue?" Heidi asked, concerned.
Isa bobbed her head up and down frantically in a yes, and Heidi's eyes slid over to meet mine for confirmation. I didn't see the point in stopping halfway through, and it would probably do her more harm to stop now and come back later than to just get it over with in one sitting. I lowered my mouth to Isa's ear, murmuring how proud I was of her and that she would get a reward afterward.
"Ice cream," she mumbled.
"Hmmm?"
"I want ice cream for my reward," she clarified.
"Well, if you're a good girl and sit still then Daddy will take you get ice cream in any flavor you want."
"M'kay."
I gave Heidi a nod to continue, and she shifted to do the other side.
It took less than fifteen minutes to get both her nipples pierced, and we left with strict instructions on how to take care of them as they healed. There would be no hard cupped bras for Isa for at least a month, and she was to clean them with soap and water, and tea tree oil for crustiness and to help keep any infections at bay.
We stopped by the grocery store on the way home to pick up some Ben and Jerry's, as I had promised her, and spent the rest of the afternoon curled up on the couch watching movies. Now that we had established a clearer picture on where we wanted to take our relationship, it was easier to relax and drop our guard completely around each other. Isa was no longer hesitant to call me 'Daddy' now that she was certain that my need matched her own, and her collars helped reaffirm that.
They were a constant reminder of my ownership of her, and I caught her playing with her everyday collar—a simple gold cuff twisted into a bow—more than once. It created a new dynamic between us that settled halfway between our old one as we meshed the two parts of our lives together. I could see us expanding, spreading our wings wider as we took to the sky. Today was only the start of the evolution of our journey, and I found myself excitedly anticipating our future because, together, we were unstoppable.
AN:
Q and A time!
Q: What the hell is wrong with Carlisle?
A: Lol, not how you imagined their first meeting to go, huh? I prefer to hear your theories on the matter instead of giving away secrets that you'll learn later on 'cause I'm evil like that.
Q:Does Carlisle know about the daddy/little girl play in Edward and Isa's relationship?
A:I hope not!...but you never know with these characters. I swear they have minds of their own. *shakes head*
Q:Will Emmett be following Edward into Madame Rose's world or is he already there
with the family being unaware if his predilections?
A: Emmett...hmmm, the lovable brother. All I'm going to tell you is that we'll be seeing more of him as the chapters go by. He has some soul searching to do.
Q: Is this new found acknowledgment of their need to increase playtime
heading in the direction of a 24/7 agreement?
A: Ohhh, I think this chapter gave you more insight on this questioned, but in case it didn't. Yeah, they are heading in that direction, but they have to work out how to balance everything first.