Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 77887 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77887 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
That was definitely a lie.
My pretty doll was beyond even skunk drunk and butt-ass naked…again.
But since no one else in the apartment seemed to think it was odd, I decided to do my best to avoid drawing attention to it as I walked into the living room.
My pretty doll didn’t even seem to notice his state of undress as he jumped up from the floor, startlingly steady. “Owner.”
Emerson looked around the room and gave them a beaming smile. “It’s my Owner.”
The guy who seemed to be Ian based on how Cohen was looking at him smiled at me. “Congratulations on having sex, Emerson’s Owner.”
Good grief.
Ignoring his polite compliment, I focused on my naked doll and crossed my arms over my chest. “Why are you naked?”
It was definitely easier than figuring out how to respond to Ian and the cheers from the rest of his drunk friends.
Emerson paused and looked down, then shrugged sweetly. “I don’t know? I think it was in the rules, but Uncle Cohen said he’s not getting naked, so we might have to change them.”
What had they been playing?
In the insanity, all I could think to do was to look at Cohen and nod. “Thank you for the address and for keeping your clothes on.”
He rolled his eyes, obviously understanding how insane it was. “I just got here.”
Then maybe more supervision was in order on sleepover nights.
“We were playing a game.” Ian seemed like he was trying to be helpful and polite, but he didn’t seem to be sure what to do…not that I was a big help. Were there rules about manners for this kind of stuff? “Do you want to play? Do you want a slushy too?”
Telling him no felt like I’d be kicking a puppy, but I shook my head. “No, thank you. But could you tell me where Emerson’s clothes are?”
The subs all scrunched their faces up and shrugged as they looked at one another.
“Uncle Cohen, do you know where his clothes are?” Ian turned to his…Uncle…his something in the hopes of being helpful. “Was he naked when I asked you about world domination? Wait. Yes, Daddy said he was naked.”
The man Ian had dubbed Uncle Cohen sighed and tried not to laugh.
“We’ll figure it out, cutie. Don’t worry.” Shaking his head, Cohen looked around the room and started searching what looked to be their kitchen.
“Here they are.” Confused chuckles came from the other room. “In the kitchen.”
Why had he taken his clothes off in there?
Emerson pouted and drama seemed to be incoming so I raised one eyebrow. “Pretty one, come here. Do I leave my special doll lying around without clothes?”
At some point that habit was going to get him in trouble.
Sighing, Emerson shook his head. “No. That’s not taking good care of your toys.”
“That’s right.” I paused as Cohen handed me Emerson’s clothes and I started getting him dressed. “And how should you treat my doll?”
I ignored all the curious and confused looks the conversation was getting us. I had no idea how him being naked was boring but me telling him to keep his clothes on was strange.
Emerson’s friends were an odd lot.
“With respect.” Emerson sighed, too drunk to figure out how to look cute and innocent, but he was smashed enough to get dramatic. “But you said you wouldn’t stalk me.”
What?
As I knelt down to try to get his panties on, Emerson stomped his feet looking like he was the little in the room, not his confused friend. “No.”
I had no idea what to say to that so I just looked up at my drunk sub.
Ian seemed to find that worrisome because he quickly stood up, swaying like the room was moving but never looking away from Emerson and me. “He’s right, Big Owner. You didn’t respect your doll. Every doll needs a tag so you don’t lose it. You didn’t label him.”
Emerson nodded. “Ian’s a little and he has dolls and he’d never lose one.”
How had this gotten so out of hand?
Even the other sub who I thought might’ve been Kenton based on Emerson’s descriptions stood up and decided to be helpful. “Yes, like for luggage. Is my suitcase worth more than your doll? No. Is my phone worth more than your doll? No.”
It was utter lunacy…but they were all very serious.
I finally gave up and turned to Cohen. He knew them all better than I did, so he could fix this mess. “Did they really just try to guilt me into tagging him like a piece of fucking luggage?”
Cohen nodded, barely holding back his laughter. “Yes, and I think you’re going to lose this one, so I wouldn’t even try to fight it.”
I found myself looking at my drunk doll and doing my best to stall. “We will come back to this discussion when you are sober…and dressed.”