The Institute, Daddy Issues(105)

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.