Page 76 of In Too Deep

She rolls her eyes and holds out the bottles for me to take, which I set to the side before reaching back and shutting off the stove. When I turn back around, I put my hands on either side of Tori’s hips and lean toward her with my elbows locked.

“I appreciate you trying to help, precious. But it’s my job to take care of you.”

Not looking at me, her cheeks turn a deeper shade of pink. Her scent is sweet on my tongue, and my mouth waters as we lapse into silence. She looks up at me from under her lashes after a moment, her eyes round with false innocence. Yet her pupils are dilated and crackling with fire. I shake my head and step back, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Don’t give me that look, Tor. We both need to eat, and you know it,” I scold, trying to keep a straight face even as she turns up the charm to eleven.

“What look, Daddy?” she asks, giggling.

A shiver races down my spine as she uses the honorific, and I swallow hard. If it weren’t for the fucking parades, I’d just order a pizza and eat my dessert right here on the counter while we wait. But I’m starving for actual food, and knowing Tori, she probably hasn’t had more than a Hot Pocket today. But then an idea occurs to me, a way for both of us to get what we want.

“Go grab one of those dining room chairs and bring it over here. Daddy’s got to grab something before we can play,” I purr, pointing to the spot I want her.

And like the good girl I know she is, Tori jumps off the counter and scampers to the dining room, letting me dip into my office to grab my supplies. When I return, I find Tori practically vibrating on the cushioned seat of the chair. I lean down and kiss her soundly before I gently push her chest away until she’s resting against the back of the chair.

“Don’t move unless I tell you to,” I whisper against her lips.

“Yes, Daddy,” she gasps.

It takes me less than two minutes to secure Tori to the chair with the soft ropes I grabbed from my playtime chest, her arms strapped to back supports, with her ankles and calves tied to the legs of the chair. She’s still fully clothed, which lets me tie a little tighter than I might have otherwise, but I don’t want her to be able to move an inch. And the finishing touch is the vibrator tied strategically to her thigh, the bulbous head pressed hard against her apex. When I turn it on, I keep it on a medium speed, enough that she’ll be able to feel it through her jeans but not intense enough to make her come.

“Fuck,” she moans, her head tipping backward until it rests on the back of the chair.

“Now all you have to do is sit there and enjoy that while I make us dinner. And don’t forget to ask for permission to come,” I coo,patting her cheek lightly before straightening up and heading into the kitchen.

I toss out the burnt rice and measure out ingredients for a stir-fry. Making fresh rice takes at least twenty minutes, which gives Tori plenty of time to stew. And while cooking with a hard-on isn’t the easiest thing, there is something to be said about how sweet her voice sounds when she begs for relief. The chair legs scrape on the tile as she writhes, trying to find a way to get more friction or pressure, but I’ve got her locked down tight.

“Please, Daddy. I need more,” she whines as I’m adding the shrimp to the veggie mix in my wok.

“No, baby girl. You need to eat, and you need to be patient,” I reply, not looking up as I toss the shrimp and veg continuously.

“Please, please, please, please, I’ll be good. I promise. Just please. I want — I need to come so bad,” she sobs, sounding truly distressed.

I glance at her, but I have to look away quickly or I’m liable to give in. Sweat and frustrated tears dripping down her cheeks, complexion flushed. Her chest heaves as much as the ropes allow, but it’s not enough to take a full breath, as I intended.

“Just a few more minutes. Then I promise to make you feel good. Can you do that for me?” I ask gently.

She lets out a long scream through her gritted teeth and goes quiet. I still, hand drifting to the pair of medic shears I’ve kept on the counter beside me this entire time, ready to act if she chooses to use her safe word. But then she slumps, taking shaky breaths as she collects herself.

“Yes, Daddy,” she mumbles.

“Good girl.”

I speed through the rest of the cooking, throwing the rice into one large bowl with the stir-fry over it rather than worrying about plating. I set the dishes in the sink, washing my hands in a flash before turning back to Tori. She’s limp in the chair,visibly shivering as she grinds mindlessly against the vibrator. I crouch down in front of her, taking a knee for balance as I lift her chin from her chest to look at me. Her eyes are glazed over, the vacancy of sub space smoothing out her expression.

“I’ve got you, baby. Ready to come for me?” I ask, wiping the tear tracks from her cheeks.

Her tongue darts out to lick her dry lips as she nods. I massage the tense muscles of her thighs for a moment before I reach for the vibrator’s dial, slowly cranking it higher. With each notch, Tori’s moans get louder and more frantic, her limbs shaking harder as she braces for her climax.

“Come for me, precious girl. Come for Daddy,” I murmur, the hand not controlling the vibrator wrapping lightly around her throat and forcing her to maintain eye contact before I snap the device into turbo mode.

With a scream that could shatter even the toughest glass, Tori obeys. Her contrasting blue orbs roll back in her head, her back trying to arch but not able to due to the rope around her. I smile and purr deep in my chest, endlessly fascinated by how her nose wrinkles and mouth falls open when she comes. I want to push her into another one, but she’s been tortured enough for now.

I bring the vibrations down slowly until, at last, the vibrator is off, leaving Tori a twitching mess. She doesn’t move as I untie her, massaging the places where the ropes dug into her limbs. Like putty in my hands, she doesn’t even protest when I scoop her up and carry her over to the couch, setting her down and draping my softest throw blanket over her. I rush back to the kitchen and grab the bowl of stir-fry and two forks, placing them on the coffee table before I sit down and pull Tori into my lap. Cuddling her close, I pick up the bowl and balance it carefully beside me.

Testing the waters, I spear a broccoli floret and hold it up to her mouth, and I chuckle as she dutifully opens up and takes it.My heart swells by at least two sizes as she lets me feed her bites, taking every other for myself while she chews.

“I’m taking this blanket. It smells like you, and I want it in my nest,” Tori mutters about halfway through the meal.

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