Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 35304 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 177(@200wpm)___ 141(@250wpm)___ 118(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35304 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 177(@200wpm)___ 141(@250wpm)___ 118(@300wpm)
I reach around to my back, bending my elbow to reach up between my shoulder blades and work the zipper down on my dress, letting it fall to the floor leaving me standing in my heels, my ruined white panties, and no bra, because Anna said bra straps would be tacky.
“Shoes off,” Rye orders as he inspects the selection of garments on the hooks. “Daddy wants to dress you.”
When he finally turns around, he doesn’t even look at my nearly naked body. The control he shows is both infuriating and sexy. His eyes are like arrows that pierce into parts of me I’ve not allowed even myself to indulge until right now.
He grabs one of the pink strappy deals hanging on the wall, his hand moving methodically over the leather, the buckles clinking as he works them open.
“Shoes off. Panties off.” He says it like he’s telling me to put butter on toast, and again, I’m reminded of how comfortable he clearly is in this environment, and with this level of physicality.
A rush of jealousy pours out of me.
“You’ve done this a lot, I take it.” I fight the sharpness in my voice that reveals my insecurity. “Guess Uncle Rye has had a good little sex life all these years after all. Mom used to always wonder why you never brought any women around. She thought maybe you weren’t inclined toward the fairer sex—”
His hand darts out in a blur of motion before the clamp of his fingers latch around my throat.
“I don’t think you understand your dare, my dautie. You are a little girl, I am your Daddy. A little girl speaks as a little girl would. A little girl is playful, free of concern about where her Daddy spends his time and with whom. Your job here is to find that little girl inside you, and set her free. We both know you’ve never had that opportunity before, even when you were young.”
The weight and pressure of his hand controlling my breath focus me on his words as my eyes burn, hating him for seeing so much, but loving him for it at the same time.
I pout, and that urge to curl into his lap returns as he withdraws his hand, returning to the wall with the leather straps.
“I’m your Daddy, but I’m also your uncle that wears your father’s face.” He holds up a dangling bundle of pink leather connected by chrome rings and studs.
Is that what I think it is?
His lips curl into something akin to a smile, something he rarely does. The tips of his fingers twitch as he holds the pink garment in one hand, and in the other a long chrome-linked leash attached to a matching pink leather and chrome collar.
“I’m not wearing a dog collar.” I cross my arms.
The vulnerability of standing in front of him naked makes the wetness between my legs drip down my inner thighs.
Rye doesn't react. His face is set in stone. “You'll wear the collar, Dautie. With the leash attached and crawl on all fours if it pleases me. I was going to let you play in the ball pit, but it seems there's a different set of balls that you need to start paying attention to. You're going to get your first lesson in cock worship to focus your mind. Your evening dare just changed direction.”
CHAPTER 4
Elodie
I'm surprised at how little fight I put up as Rye buckles me into what can only be described as a series of pink leather belts that basically cover nothing. Instead, they accentuate certain areas more than you would think.
Naked is naked, but somehow, I feel more exposed than even having nothing on.
The world narrows to a pin prick when he buckles the pink collar around the center of my throat and clips the leash to it, jerking me hard against him.
My mind goes blank.
I open my mouth, thinking I should put up at least some kind of haughty protest as Rye holds the chrome leash wrapped around his hand. But there's something in his eyes that sucks any of the brat I was considering letting loose back into the ether.
“For the record, I haven't touched a woman since your mother married my brother. If your previous comment about my sex life is any indication of where your little girl head is at.”
His admission leaves me shaken.
“No one?” I stutter.
“No. No one in all those years. Not one.” He lowers his hand, and the tension on the collar snaps taut, pulling me down with it. “After one of these nights, I might find myself fucking my hand a few times. Other than that, I'm all pent-up frustration, little girl. And then you walked in.”
He drags me down to the floor by pulling the leash nearly to his feet. My knees meet the soft rug, his foot spreading them wide as I find myself kneeling in front of my uncle, looking up. A sudden rush of confusion, shame, and something surreal washes over me as his face flickers.