The Institute, Daddy Issues(28)

“If you mean that in a sexual way then no, I do not in­tend to do that,” Salt growled.

“A pity.” Berkley sniffed. “I was go­ing to in­vite the two of you to the Dad­dies’ Lounge for brandy and ci­gars and other things after din­ner but if your re­la­tion­ship isn’t sexual, you might not prefer to be there.”

I bit my lip. Great, we’d just lost a chance to be in a more cas­ual set­ting with every­one at the In­sti­tute. It would have been a great place to get to know the other couples bet­ter and see if any one of them seemed like the types to sell Please. On the other hand, I was grate­ful that Salt was tak­ing a hard line and de­clar­ing our re­la­tion­ship not sexual—at least I thought I was.

“The Lounge sounds like great fun but we will not be able to go,” Salt said.

“Tell me,” Berkley said, as a ser­vant brought an over­sized pad­ded foot­stool look­ing thing that fit in my chair for me to sit on. “Is your mishka a com­plete vir­gin? Or have you already claimed her mouth and her pussy and you’re sav­ing her ass for last?”

I nearly choked on a sip of too-sweet pink punch that filled my gob­let. Salt seemed to feel like the ques­tion was too much as well be­cause his face darkened.

“This is a very private mat­ter—is not your busi­ness, Dir­ector,” he growled.

“I beg your par­don, my dear Mr. Saltanov but it is my busi­ness,” Berkley re­turned. “How else am I to know how to com­pose your sched­ule? I take my du­ties as dir­ector and owner of the In­sti­tute very ser­i­ously. I need to know ex­actly where you and your Baby­girl stand, in or­der to avoid any more, ah, prob­lems like the one we had earlier.”

“I see.” Salt scowled. “Very well, I will tell you this. Is mishka vir­gin? No, but she is vir­gin to me. We have only been to­gether three months and she is still frightened and un­sure of her­self. So I am tak­ing things slowly—very slowly. I do not wish to vi­ol­ate her body or her trust.”

“Of course. I see.” Berkley nod­ded ser­i­ously. “Well, hope­fully you can take your re­la­tion­ship to the next level while you’re here as you said you wished to earlier when you asked for some­thing to help her, ah…loosen up a little.”

“Only if mishka is ready,” Salt in­sisted. “She is far from that right now.”

“Well, we find that many shy and in­ex­per­i­enced Baby­girls dis­cover their sexual nature while they are at the In­sti­tute,” Berkley said. “Why, by the time you’re ready to leave, you may have claimed all three of your little mishka’s vir­gin­it­ies.”

Salt frowned. “I thought you said you do not of­fer aph­ro­dis­i­acs here.”

“We don’t.” Berkley smiled at him. “But there’s some­thing in the at­mo­sphere here—in be­ing with like-minded couples who like to play as you do. It’s very stim­u­lat­ing. Or maybe it’s just some­thing in the wa­ter.” He laughed and nod­ded at me. “Drink your punch, little girl. It’s good for you.”

I forced my­self to take an­other sip of the sickly-sweet pink punch even though I didn’t like it at all and then set the gob­let down. A server ap­peared be­hind me and sud­denly the empty china plate in front of me was whisked away and a full one took its place.

After all the op­u­lence of the fur­niture and sur­round­ings, I’d been ex­pect­ing gour­met frou-frou food like frog legs or foie gras or some other in­ed­ible del­ic­acy. I was pleas­antly sur­prised to see that the plate in front of me con­tained fairly plain stuff. Rare roast beef, mashed pota­toes and gravy, fresh green beans with tiny pearl onions in them…it ac­tu­ally looked good. And des­pite all the tur­moil I’d just been through, I found I was hungry.

Salt must have been too be­cause he dug in eagerly. As we ate, I scanned the table, look­ing at the other couples. They all seemed to fit a pat­tern, I saw. The men were all fairly tall—though none was as tall as Salt—and the wo­men were all ex­tra petite, like me. I didn’t be­lieve a single one of them was over 5’3. This made it easy for them to sit in their Dad­dies’ laps, which most of them were do­ing.

Many of the Dad­dies ap­peared to be ten to twenty years older than their Baby­girls. How­ever there were a few couples where they looked to be about the same age. I did see one couple, though, where the Daddy looked to be around sixty and his Baby­girl was prob­ably only around twenty. I was pretty sure I knew who was pay­ing for that re­la­tion­ship.