Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 58651 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 293(@200wpm)___ 235(@250wpm)___ 196(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58651 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 293(@200wpm)___ 235(@250wpm)___ 196(@300wpm)
“Yeah, yeah. Maybe you should have gone into acting instead of tennis.”
“How complicated can it be between you two? I know you’re into all that weird stuff, but I mean, at the end of the day it’s probably just like any other relationship, except you like her to call you daddy while you guys fuck.”
I cringe. “You know I hate when you talk about it.”
She smirks. “I know. That’s why I still do it. Seriously though, how complicated can it be?”
I lean back, tapping my racquet against my knee. “Apparently it can be pretty complicated. The ‘weird stuff’ is all new to her, and she’s having trouble drawing a line between the fantasy and reality.”
Olivia looks thoughtful. “Oh. That actually does sound a little complicated. You mean she wants you to be her daddy in the bedroom but she’s having trouble staying interested in you outside the sex because you’re not really her daddy?”
I give Olivia a confused look. “What is all this daddy shit? No… Look, I’m not going to detail all this with you. I have no desire to know what kind of weird shit you’re into and I don’t--”
“Pegging,” Olivia deadpans.
I stare openly at her, feeling disgust and amazement.
She barks a laugh. “I’m just kidding. That’s sick. But yeah, you’re never going to learn what weird shit I’m into. I’m the only one in this pair who has to bear that mental poison.”
I sigh. “I can’t figure out if you’re trying to help right now or if you’re trying to irritate me.”
“I can’t do both?” she asks.
I laugh. “Good point. I guess you’re always doing a little bit of both.”
“Well,” she says. “I would think even if the sex is great, the relationship is doomed if you guys aren’t compatible outside of it.”
I run a hand through my hair. “When she lets her guard down, we get along better than I’ve ever gotten along with a woman, but she just puts these walls up sometimes. I don’t get it.”
“Welcome to women, Logan. I’m proud that you’re finally learning to accept you will never understand us.”
Emmaline is bent over at the foot of my bed. Her ass is red from the paddle. She was fifteen minutes late getting to my house, which has become a habit of hers. It has been almost two weeks since I strapped her to the ceiling and ass fucked her for the first time. We’ve been seeing each other regularly since then, but I’ve started to feel a growing rift between us. I’ve been pushing the thoughts down as much as I can, but I can’t help noticing how much more wild she is getting in her tastes. She seems to be deliberately disobeying me to get as much punishment as she can, and I’ve been relying on her to tell me when she’s reached her limit, but I’m starting to think she has no limit, like she wants to be hurt.
I’ve never gotten off on pain before. I only enjoy using pain as a counterpoint to enhance pleasure. Sadism was never my kink. Wanting pain for the sake of pain is what some people are into, and that doesn’t bother me in the slightest. What bothers me is Emmaline’s sexual needs are looking more like a drug addict who is chasing the first high. I don’t believe she’s really masochistic. I think she’s just trying to escalate the danger every time we’re together to get the same rush she felt the first time. I’m not willing to start bringing the pain to a point where I’m doing real damage, and she has brought us right to the cusp of that.
Our interactions outside the play room have been hard to read, to say the least. I’ve been with her at the club the last two weekends and at my place plenty of times, but our interactions outside the play room or the club are always cut short. I’d almost think she was making excuses to leave, and I have no idea why. I just want to find out what she needs and give it to her. I’ve tried vanilla sex with her a few times, thinking she might be craving some normalcy, but she has been slightly stiff and unresponsive every time I’ve tried.
It all has me frustrated, and when I bring the paddle down on her again I do it with more force than I intended. The blow makes her lurch forward and lose her balance, falling to her face.
I kneel quickly at her side. “Emmaline, are you--”
She pushes me off. “I was late, Sir. I need to be punished.” Her eyes are distant, focused on something beyond the wall ahead.
I stand, looking down at the paddle and the angry red spot on her milky skin. A wave of disgust overcomes me. I throw the paddle down. “We’re done for today.”