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“Daddy?”
He didn’t answer. She waited. The next sensation was something pressed against her nipple. Ice. The persistent cold became an ache that became a solid stab of hurt as he suckled heat back into them. Dora’s head fell back. She moaned, then gasped as the ice was pressed against her clit.
She wriggled against the restraints, then stilled herself when ordered to do so. She felt Alastair spread her labia. There was a sharp splat as the tab of a riding crop lightly struck her clit. She couldn’t close her legs, couldn’t stop him. Her mouth opened to utter the safe phrase, but she couldn’t say it. She didn’t want to. The exquisite torture and her helplessness to stop it was like a whirlpool of erotic surrender.
Dora felt something slip inside her now. That something began to buzz. She squirmed, moaned, but did not fight, not even when the next sensations came—a pinch to her left nipple, then the right. Clamps—just tight enough to make her nipples throb.
Alastair’s mouth was pressed to her ear. His breath was hot. “Come for me,” he said. “Come for Daddy. Let go. Give yourself over to all that you feel. Daddy wants to see his Little girl fly.”
She flew. It took no effort. Her pleasure peaked and soared. Her head fell back. She cried out as the rushes centered between her legs moved through her.
It wasn’t until Alastair removed the blindfold that Dora realized a small crowd had gathered. They were applauding.
“You’re so beautiful,” a woman said.
“That was amazing, Robinson,” another man said, nodding at Alastair. “If you ever want to share.”
“Not on your life,” Alastair said. “This one is mine and mine alone.”
“I can’t blame you.” The man was tall, tattooed, shirtless. His low-slung jeans hugged his slim hips. “Your Daddy is one lucky man,” he said to Dora with a wink.
She didn’t know what to say. She’d gotten so lost in the moment that she’d forgotten they were in a public place, and she knew now that this had been more than a lesson in implements, but a lesson in how she was truly perceived.
There were robes in the armoire. Alastair fetched one for Dora who donned it gratefully. As they were heading away from the equipment, they came face-to-face with another couple standing in the back of the assembled group. A chill went through her as she recognized the woman.
Maribel looked stunning in a leather bustier, matching leather tap pants and boots. Her black hair was fashioned into a long single braid that hung down her back. She was in the company of a man neither Dora nor Alastair had seen before. He was thin and blonde—probably an outsider visiting the lodge. He wore an open leather vest and black pants.
Even though she was with someone, Maribel was staring at Alastair and her eyes said everything she dared not say aloud as her gaze moved to Dora. The man didn’t look any friendlier. Neither of them spoke and Maribel made a show of moving against her partner as she looked back at Alastair with feigned fear. He put an arm around her, ushering her past without a word.
Something about the wordless encounter made Dora feel uneasy, but Alastair seemed to brush it off so she decided to follow his lead. Even if Maribel was still angry, at least she now had someone who could help her get past it.
In the aftercare room, Alastair massaged some lidocaine lotion onto her still-sore nipples as Dora sat wrapped in a fleece robe with the Ranch’s insignia on the pocket.
“So how was your first experience with a club?”
“Ten for ten,” she said. “But I couldn’t have done that with anyone else, you know.”
“Good. I wouldn’t want you to do that with anyone else. I wouldn’t want you do any of the things I’ve got planned with anyone else.”
Dora smiled. She didn’t ask what those things were. She’d surrendered herself to Daddy and had trusted him to continue to surprise her in the most delightful ways.
Chapter 13
Monday morning came around all too quickly. It was a beautiful day and Alastair found he had to repeat himself multiple times to a classroom distracted by the lovely weather outside. Normally he’d have been more frustrated, but after his weekend with Dora, he found himself more obliging than usual.
At midmorning, Dora appeared with a stack of quizzes he’d had her help grade. He passed them out, with the usual suspects groaning over low grades that would have been higher had they paid better attention.
“Some of you did better than others,” he said. “So, if you have any questions…”
A hand immediately shot up. It belonged to Susan, one of the girls who’d hung around with Maribel before she’d gotten kicked out of the class. Susan had been on the lawn the day the incident with Dora had happened, but she and the others had issued written apologies.
“You have a question, Susan?”
“Yes.” She lowered her hand. “Are you really a man?”
All eyes turned to Alastair and there was a soft clatter as Dora, who’d been writing the next assignment on the board, dropped the chalk.
“Yes, I’m a man.” Alastair’s tone was level.
