Page 96 of Daddy P.I. 3.0

“What do you win if Master Chess doesn’t find you?”

Her eyes and teeth glint. “Unrestricted orgasms.”

There’s a collective giggle and several “me, toos.” Hmph. I should have bargained for unrestricted orgasms.

“How often do you negotiate those with Master Chess?” I ask.

“Every week if I can. Sometimes he’s too tense when the time comes and controlling my pleasure is his biggest thing, so I let it go. But whenever he seems relaxed enough, I go for it.”

Dang. My negotiation skills are clearly lacking here. I barely ever negotiate for unrestricted orgasms. More often than not, Daddy offers them to me as a reward for being his good little girl. I need to be more strategic, which is not my best thing when I’m in littlespace. Maybe that’s why I haven’t negotiated for them more often. I’m in littlespace so much of the time now.

Matty elbows me. “You haven’t been negotiating for unrestricted orgasms, either, have you?”

“No,” I admit. “Why haven’t you?”

“Oh, orgasm denial is one of Faolan’s kinks. I’m honestly so grateful when I’m not on it that I never think to ask forunrestrictedorgasms. I’m just delighted whenever he gives me permission.”

“Eep. How often are you on orgasm denial?” I ask, trying to keep the horror out of my voice.

“Most weekdays. The only time I’m sure I’ll get orgasms is on the weekends. If I’m having a really bad week, he might give me release just to help keep me from spiraling. No guarantee, though. It’s gotten worse since we’ve been back in New York and he’s been talking with Master J. Ohemmgee, that manlovesorgasm denial.”

I choke back my horror and feel a rush of gratitude that Daddy doesn’t keep me in a No O zone all week. “I would purely die.”

“Before we moved to New York and I started teaching, it was awful. It made me so angry. Faolan and I had fights about it. It’s the only thing we’ve really fought about. But I’ve settled into it.It actually helps keep me focused during the week and looking forward to the weekends. Like, each weekend is a total break. Something separate from my work week. All I have to do on weekends is focus on me and Daddy and pleasure. I don’t know, it works. We’ll see what happens next month when school breaks for the holidays.”

I put my arm around her shoulders. “You’re so courageous. I’d have killed Daddy by now if he had me on O restriction all week.”

Matty giggles. “I thought about it a few times. I got paddled a lot for mouthing off at him when I was needy. But since I’ve settled into it, I’ve kind of come to enjoy it. He edges me progressively through the week so by Friday night, I’m thinking about nothing else. I put everything behind me and we have wonderful weekends together. It’s worth it. But I did have a list of creative ways to kill him and not get caught going for a while.”

“Top of the list?” someone whispers from down the corridor and I realize Matty and I haven’t been as quiet as we should have been.

“The quaking bogs of Rannoch Moor in the Scottish highlands,” Matty says with the certainty of giving something extensive thought. “Most peat bogs are shallow but the Rannoch Moor bogs are really deep. Deep peat bogs are worse than quicksand. They’re hard to see as you’re crossing the moors. Once you go down in the bog, it’s very dark, so you can’t orient yourself. The peat is heavy and compresses your body, making it hard to move or breathe. You drown really quickly. I mean, I didn’t want Daddy tosufferor anything.”

Lots of low laughs from the group, many of whom have sadistic Doms wholoveour suffering.

“Too bad Scotland’s so far away,” I point out.

“Mmm, it was more practical when we were on Miller’s Island, which is just a hop, skip, and a boat-ride from thehighlands,” Matty admits. “I have yet to find a good substitute here in the States.”

“Vermont has cranberry bogs,” someone, I think it’s Georgie, whispers.

“I don’t think they’re deep enough,” Matty says. “But it’s worth exploring. Do you have a list?”

“Oh, yeah,” a deep whisper responds. I think that’s Austin. “Mercuric chloride. I use it in my dark room so I have it on hand. Very poisonous. Central nervous system failure. Like you said, I don’t want her tosuffer. At least, not for very long.”

Despite how macabre this topic is, everyone laughs. We’ve all entertained these thoughts. We’ve all been angry and resentful at our Doms. It’s natural, even for masochists.

“But I love her,” Austin says. “More than I’ve loved anyone. Crazy, huh?”

We all agree.

Our whispered conversation stops dead when the corridor suddenly brightens. Matty and Tessa grab my hands.

“Oh, little girl,” Daddy’s voice slithers down the corridor. “Little girl, is this where you’re hiding?”

I almost break. I cram Matty and Tessa’s hands against my mouth to keep from answering him.

“Little girl, I’m coming in.”

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