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The Institute, Daddy Issues(6)

By:Evangeline Anderson


“Yeah, but at least I was still act­ing as an adult, even if I was pre­tend­ing to be a pros­ti­tute,” I poin­ted out.

Salt looked sur­prised. “You went un­der­cover as a pros­ti­tute?”

“It was be­fore your time—when I was in Vice for a while,” I as­sured him. “Don’t worry—nobody touched me.”

He frowned pro­tect­ively. “They had bet­ter not.”

“And speak­ing of Vice,” I said to the Cap­tain. “Why aren’t they in on this? It’s def­in­itely more their wheel­house than ours. Why not pick two of them to do this crazy thing?”

“Be­cause none of the other de­tect­ives in your po­lice de­part­ment fit the very ex­act­ing cri­teria set by the In­sti­tute,” Pro­fessor Stevens said quietly. “I told you, they are very tra­di­tional—they only ad­mit male Bigs and fe­male Littles. And they prefer it when the Little in ques­tion is ex­tremely petite—it makes her seem more child­like.”

“Ugh…” I shivered. “So Salt and I are get­ting this honor be­cause I’m height chal­lenged? Gotta tell you Cap­tain, that hardly seems fair.”

“Sug­ar­baker…” He sighed and looked at me dir­ectly. “Have you seen what Please does to its users? Do you know how it got its name?”

I shrugged. “Sure, I heard about that viral video.”

“But have you watched it? Look…” The Cap­tain turned his large, flat com­puter mon­itor around and nod­ded at the pro­fessor. “Could you hit the lights? These over­head fluor­es­cents make it hard to see.”

The of­fice was plunged into semi-gloom and then the Cap­tain punched a but­ton. The mon­itor flickered to life, show­ing a blonde girl who looked to be in her early to mid twen­ties. She was down on the floor, on her hands and knees, crawl­ing to­wards a man wear­ing a dark gray suit and ex­pens­ive look­ing shoes. I didn’t know what his face looked like be­cause the shot didn’t go that high.

“See that?” the Cap­tain asked. “We be­lieve that man is the ori­ginal cre­ator of Please. If we could catch him, we could shut down a hell of a lot of pro­duc­tion.”

“Who is he?” Salt asked but the Cap­tain shook his head.

“Nobody knows. As you can see, they’re very care­ful not to show his face. But even if they did, I don’t think most people would be look­ing at it. She’s the in­ter­est­ing one.”

He nod­ded at the girl on the screen who was look­ing more and more dis­tressed.

“Please, Daddy,” she moaned, rub­bing against the man’s legs. “Please, I feel so empty in­side—it hurts—it hurts. Please fill me up with your big, hard cock!”

I glanced at Salt to see how he was tak­ing this. I didn’t know if he watched Amer­ican porn or, in­deed, if Rus­sian porn was any dif­fer­ent. His face was im­pass­ive, how­ever—it’s im­possible to read him some­times.

“Daddy, please!” The girl in the video flipped up her skirt, show­ing pink and white Hello Kitty panties. Her blonde hair was done in two curly pig­tails and she was wear­ing lacy white ankle socks and Mary Jane saddle shoes. I wondered un­eas­ily if her out­fit was an Age Play thing. Was I go­ing to have to dress like this and beg Salt to…

But I pushed the thought away. Pro­fessor Stevens had said that it didn’t have to be sexual. So it wouldn’t be—and that was that. Not that I didn’t find Salt at­tract­ive—I’d have to be blind not to. But sleep­ing with your part­ner was bad news—a one way ticket to com­plic­a­tions and messy emo­tions. I pre­ferred to keep my work life and my sex life sep­ar­ate.

Right, your nonex­ist­ent sex life, whispered a little voice in my head. I hadn’t really dated any­one ser­i­ously since Salt and I had been partnered up. I didn’t really know why that was—prob­ably it was in­tim­id­at­ing for pro­spect­ive dates to meet my part­ner, which they some­how, al­ways in­vari­ably did. Pos­sibly Salt was giv­ing them a ‘don’t hurt my part­ner’ speech or maybe they were just scared of him.

For whatever reason, no guy I tried ever las­ted more than a couple of dates. And for the past few years, I had sort of stopped try­ing. Maybe I was get­ting too com­fort­able just be­ing on my own, or maybe I felt like I already had all the male com­pan­ion­ship I needed. After all, I spent some­thing like sev­enty-five per­cent of my time with Salt…