He raised an eyebrow. “You mean the way I take care of you sexually?”
“Well…yeah,” I said. “Don’t you think it’s, I don’t know, weird for me to call you ‘Papa’ while you go down on me or…or do other things?”
He shook his head.
“Not at all. We are two consenting adults—why should we not play this way if it gives us pleasure?”
“But maybe it shouldn’t give us pleasure,” I argued. “Maybe it’s wrong…sick…”
“Andi,” he said seriously. “Are you thinking of your biological father while we are doing these things? Answer me honestly.”
“What? No!” I shivered. “Of course not.”
“Of course not,” he repeated. “Which is one reason we decided you would call me Papa and not ‘Daddy’ as you called him. But you are wanting a man to act in the way he did—to be protective, to give you security, affection, safety. To give you love,” he said gently.
My heart began to beat harder but I tried to stay casual.
“Well, I guess so.” I shrugged.
“And when are you able to open yourself to these other feelings?” Salt asked reasonably. “When are you able to relax and let yourself feel sexual? When you feel safe, secure, protected and loved. Would you agree?”
“Yes. Yes, of course.” I was surprised that he’d analyzed our situation in such detail but maybe he had been thinking about this as long as I had. “But what about what you told Berkley?” I asked, remembering his words to the Director of the Institute. “You said everything they did there was sick and that it disgusted you.”
“I was speaking of the Please production,” Salt said patiently. “Of the way they were pumping out poison date rape drugs. This is what disgusted me—not the Age Play. Though they did take it to—how do you say? To the extreme.”
“Yes, they did.” I remembered the thick black plug he had put inside me and shivered a little.
In that uncanny way of his, my partner seemed to read my mind.
“You are thinking of the plug,” he murmured, stroking a strand of hair away from my heated cheeks. “Or maybe the spankings I gave you—the ones where I used only my hand.”
“Yes,” I admitted, biting my lip.
“Tell me exactly what you are thinking, mishka,” he directed in a low voice. “Tell me about the spankings first. Did you dislike them?”
“I don’t know…” I looked down at my hands, feeling suddenly shy. “I thought I did but…but they made me feel so…” I didn’t know how to put it. “They made my body react,” I admitted softly.
“Did your pussy get wet?” Salt asked directly, his voice a low growl.
“Yes,” I whispered. “But I don’t know why.”
“Maybe because Babygirls need to be punished at times.” He stroked my cheek. “But I do not think I wish to punish you for a while. Not until you are over what I did with my belt.” He looked suddenly serious. “I still regret that deeply, you know.”
“I know,” I whispered. “And it hurt. But it was all you could do at the time.”
“I will not do this to you again,” he vowed grimly. “I would rather die than give you such harsh punishment again, my darling.”
“Well…there are other ways to punish,” I pointed out, feeling my face get hot again.
“So we are back to the plug.” He looked at me speculatively. “How did you feel about that, mishka?”
“I felt…” I cleared my throat, feeling nervous. “I was scared at first,” I admitted. “But then you made me feel so good…”
“You mean when I tasted you?” he murmured.
“Yes,” I whispered. “Yes, when you tasted me.”
“And do you like it when your Papa goes down on you, mishka?” His voice was a deep, soft growl. “Do you like to spread your pussy for your Papa and let him lick and suck your sweet little clit?”
“Oh God…” Suddenly I could hardly breathe, I was so turned on. My nipples were tight little points at the ends of my breasts and I could feel myself getting wet and hot under the jeans and white silk panties I was wearing. I wanted to look away from Salt’s burning eyes but somehow I couldn’t—I was caught in that pale blue gaze and unable to free myself.