Negotiation: Daddy P.I. 0.5, E Frost [best thriller novels of all time txt] 📗

parties with those crazy pony-girls trotting around with a tail plug in, shaking their asses so their silky tails swish everywhere. I’ve also seen their butts when the plug is taken out. You could drive a bulldozer up there. I really, really do not want that to be me.

“Please, sir, please, no. I don’t want to wear a plug. I’ll be very focused. I promise, sir. I promise.” I sob the last few words.

“Why don’t you want to wear a plug?” he asks, as he draws his finger out, and I sob with relief.

“I had a prolapse once. With my ex. It was painful and really horrible. I don’t want that to happen again. Please, Logan, please. I’m really scared.”

“Did he prepare you for the anal penetration?” he asks.

I can hear him doing something behind me. I don’t know what he’s doing but it sounds like he’s getting ready to shove the plug in me. Fuck, fuck! I grab at the lip of the backsplash as my shoulders start to shake.

“Emily.” He puts his hand on my back, presses so I feel the warmth of his palm. “Calm down. Take a deep breath, hold it in for a count of two, and then let it out slowly.”

“I-I—“

“Emily, follow my instruction. Deep breath. Hold it, one, two, then let it out slowly.”

I do, counting to two as I hold it, and five as I let it out.

“Another,” he says.

Breathe in. One, two. Out. One, two, three, four, five.

He strokes my back. “Again.”

As I let it out, I feel something wet push between my cheeks.

“No! No! Oh, God, Logan, please no!”

“That’s just my finger, Emily. You’ve already had it in you. Breathe, baby.”

He presses his finger against my sphincter and holds it there while I breathe.

“Sir, I can’t do this,” I say, after a dozen breaths.

“Do you need to use your safe word?”

I don’t want to. Not on our first date. “I d-don’t think I can do this.”

“I believe you can, if you trust me. Let’s go back to your prolapse. Were you prepared for the anal penetration?”

“No, sir.”

“How big was your ex’s dick?”

Not nearly as big as Logan’s. I hold up my hand and curl my forefinger against the knuckle of my thumb to illustrate Ashley’s girth. “It hurt like, like heck. Honestly, I can’t do this.”

“This is not going to hurt. Turn your head to the left and open your eyes.”

How does he know I’ve squeezed my eyes shut? I follow his command and look over my shoulder.

Logan slides his hand from between my shoulders, picks up something he’s left lying on the small of my back, and holds it out so I can see it. It’s a purple butt plug, very short and slim. Maybe two inches long and an inch wide. Logan turns it so I can see the little purple gem on the hilt.

“One of the reasons I had to get back yesterday was so I could buy fresh toys for you. This is Morris. Morris is not going to hurt you.”

“M-Morris?”

He named the purple butt plug Morris?

“Coach Morris was my high school football coach. He taught me a lot about being focused. When we screwed up, he used to dump buckets of ice over our heads. I’m not going to do that to you, but I think a little time with Morris every day will help keep you focused. Coach Morris also turned purple when he yelled, so it fits.”

I laugh, although it’s still tearful.

“I’m going to put a condom on Morris now and introduce him. It’s not going to hurt, baby doll. This is a small plug. At the very worst, it will burn a little. That’s absolutely normal. But you might not even feel that. I promise, sweetie. I’ve trained a dozen subs. I’ve had anal sex . . . well, many times. I’ve never once made a woman prolapse, or even tear. I’m sure you already know this, since you divorced him, but your ex was a careless fuckwad.”

“Yes, I did know that.” I take another deep breath, hold it and let it out slowly. “I’ll try, sir. I’ll try for you.”

“Good girl.” He strokes his hand down my back. “Breathe again for me and when you feel Morris press in, bear down.”

“Yes, sir.” I take a deep breath, hold it, and as I’m letting it out, the cool, slick tip of the plug presses against my sphincter. I begin to shake, and as hard as I try to relax my shoulders, the shaking spreads down my back, through my legs. I squeeze my thighs together to control the shaking, but nothing helps. I’m shaking all over like I’ve got palsy and he hasn’t even put the plug in me, yet.

“Emily, bear down for me.”

I sob with fear and humiliation and discomfort, but do as he commands and bear down.

“Good girl. That’s excellent, Emily. Now let go.”

As soon as I release, he slides the plug into me. There’s a little burn and a heavy, full sensation when he pulls back on the plug, but it goes in even more easily than his finger. Then he covers my ass with his palm and just holds it there.

I gulp down my tears. “Is it in?”

“Yes, Emily. That’s a good girl. Stay calm and relaxed. How does it feel?”

Like I have the world’s worst constipation, in all honesty, but I don’t think that’s what he wants to hear. “It burns a little.”

“That’s normal. Your thirty minutes starts now.” I hear something click and he moves around behind me. The toilet flushes. “Can you walk with it in?”

He wants to me walk around while I have this thing up my butt? “Can’t I just wait in here?”

“No. Moving with the plug in is part of the training.” He reaches down and draws my panties back up my legs. His warm fingers expertly settle the band back into place around my hips, and I wish he’d leave his hands there, but he smoothes down my skirt and the tail of