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When I finally, reluctantly stand I tell her what a good girl she was, what an obedient girl she was, and how proud Daddy is that she can obey so well when she comes like that. I tell her there will be a surprise when she comes home tonight, something special for such a good girl.
Her face is flushed. She smiles. “I can’t imagine anything better than that,” she says.
“You just wait,” I say.
Chapter eleven
BLISS
I sometimes miss the little house, but my apartment is a lot better. The windows are huge, and the light pouring in nourishes the plants I can’t stop bringing home from work. Tandy says if I put any more plants in my place, there won’t be any room for her. I tell her there will always be room for Daddy.
Another great thing about my apartment? It’s close to hers. In fact, if I’m standing on the balcony, I can look out at the rooftop of her building which is kind of cool.
Usually when I walk over, I listen to a podcast or music. Today I’m too distracted. Tandy is full of surprises and when she tells me she has one, try as I might I can never guess what it will be. The fun is always in finding out.
I’m relieved to see Inez’s parking spot is empty when I arrive. We’ve reached an uneasy truce. I’m civil to her; she speaks to me only if absolutely necessary and I avoid her gaze because her eyes always say what her mouth wants to. She still hates me and while I don’t tell Tandy this, it feels like more than something born of the suspicion of a protective friend.
I use the key Tandy gave me to unlock the shop. It’s quiet and every time I come through the door, I’m reminded of how I stumbled in, drunk and depressed over a man I didn’t even really want. It feels like a lifetime ago, even though it wasn’t.
I walk down the halls, past the gorgeous shot of a leather-clad Tandy, through the door and up the stairs. A second key on my ring opens her apartment door. There’s a different kind of music playing today, something with a deep, thrumming beat.
“Daddy?” I call. The lights in her loft are all dimmed, and I notice now that the shades are drawn on the street-facing windows. “Daddy?”
“Come here.”
I startle at the command which comes from the darkened hallway. Then I gasp as Tandy steps from the shadows. The leather suit still fits her like a glove, and the black, stiletto-heeled boots make her long legs look even longer. She’s holding a riding crop in one hand and something else in the other, something that makes me go weak in the knees.
“I said come here.”
I obey, aware of the wetness between my legs. My gaze is fixed on the collar and leash she’s holding in her other hand. One of the pictures in the collage hanging on her office wall is of Tandy standing imperiously, legs apart, over a kneeling woman wearing that same collar. My heart is pounding in my chest. My nipples are so hard they hurt.
“On your knees,” she says when I reach her. I sink down, keeping my eyes on her, like a supplicant starting up at a goddess.
Tandy puts her hand on my head and slides it down to cup my face. She slides her thumb into my mouth. I suckle it, feeling rewarded by her smile.
“Who do you belong to?” She leans down and places the collar round my neck, and I’m glad that I cropped my hair short a few weeks ago so I don’t have to lift it. This was another change for me. I’d only worn it longer and dyed blonde for Mark. Tandy says I look like fae with my cute brunette pixie cut.
“You,” I answer, raising my hand to touch the leather. The collar is heavy, the metal studs cold. I love the weight of it, the texture. “You, and only you.”
“That’s right,” she says. “You belong to me. You’re Daddy’s little pet, aren’t you, and every part of you belongs to her from that sweet little mouth to those beautiful tits to that pussy. It’s all for Daddy and no one else, understand?”
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?” She stands, trails the crop down my jawline.
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Stand up.”
She turns, leading me into the darkness of the hallway. I expect to go to the bedroom, but she takes me to another room, one she has set up as a guest room. There’s always just been a single bed in in. Now there’s another piece of furniture if you can call it that. The X-shaped cross is sturdy, with manacles at each points of the X.
Tandy is silent as she strips me. She leads me to stand before the Saint Andrew’s cross. I soak in every detail of the experience – the feel of the fleece-lined cuff tightening around my wrists and ankles, the cool of the wood against my breasts, my belly, my thighs, the feeling of being helpless, exposed, spread. I feel my inner labia grow wet and swollen with excitement. My clit throbs. The cool air raises gooseflesh on my bare ass.
Tandy steps to the side and as I turn my head, I gasp. I’d been so fixated on the cross that I hadn’t noticed the little table with implements laid out in a row. She picks up a riding crop and brings down the leather tab at the tip into the center of her gloved hand. The sharp “thwack” makes me jump.
“Daddy?”
“Hush.”
