Swallowing, I direct my eyes back to the page. “He likes her to pretend to be his baby, and she calls him Daddy.”
“Like how I have you call me Daddy?” he asks, and I nod. “See, Elli, it’s okay to call me Daddy when we’re alone. We’re not the only ones who do it.” I bite my bottom lip nervously, and he frowns. “What is it?”
“He has her wear a diaper. I don’t want to wear one.”
Giving me a soft smile, he chuckles. “No diaper. What about a pacifier?” He reaches up and runs his thumb gently over my lips, my breathing picking up at the touch. “You’d look so pretty with something in your mouth, Elli.”
I pull back, and he drops his hand to his lap. My eyes are on my hands, and I try to calm my racing heart. “I guess…” I whisper, shrugging.
“That’s my good girl,” he says, gently pushing my hair behind my ear, and I raise my eyes to look at him. I like the way that sounds, and by the smile he’s giving me, he does too. “What if I told you I already have one for you?” Getting up, he walks over to his desk and opens a drawer. He pulls out a black box and comes back to sit next to me. Holding it out, he says, “Go ahead, open it.”
Reaching out, I push the lid open and see a black pacifier.Daddy’s girlis written across it in pink letters. I’ve seen these before. My mom’s friend has a baby, and she carries five everywhere she goes for her son. “It looks different,” I speak quietly.
He sets the box down next to him on the couch and removes it. “It is.” Holding it in his hands, he places it in front of me. “This is called a pacifier with a leather belt harness.”
I shift in my seat, and he notices. “There’s nothing wrong with being nervous, Elli. If you don’t like it, I’ll take it off.”
I run my sweaty hands along my jeans. “What does it do?” I ask, wanting to know. Mr. Robbins said that his wife loves hers. That she sucks on it all the time. And how much it turns him on watching her.
“This”—he points at the leather belt—“goes around your head. It’s like a belt you wear with your jeans. It fastens in place at the back of your head.”
My eyes widen, my pulse jumping in my neck. “So I can’t take it off.”
He nods. “You won’t be able to. But I can.”
I shift again, and a funny feeling between my legs makes my breath quicken. “I don’t know—”
“All you have to do is tap the pacifier with your hand, and I’ll remove it,” he interrupts me.
I swallow the lump in my throat, but I can’t deny that my thighs have been clenched this entire time. My curiosity has me wanting to try it. To see why Mr. Robbins’s wife loves it so much. Letting out a long breath, I nod. He said he’ll take it off if I didn’t like it.
“That’s such a good girl.” He smiles at me.
There are those words again, and the butterflies return to my stomach.
James gets up from the couch to stand in front of me. “Open for me,” he commands, and I lick my lips before doing as he asks.
Putting it in my mouth, he wraps the leather around my head, and my breathing accelerates, making my pulse race.
“Deep breaths through your nose, baby. Breathe for me.” He pulls away, and I look up at him through my lashes. “Good girl.” He runs his fingers over the pacifier in my mouth.
I taste the rubber, my tongue exploring the weird shape. It doesn’t feel as big as it looked in the box.
“How does that feel?” James tugs on the belt to see if it’s too tight or too loose. I’m not sure.
I nod since that’s all I can do.
He walks over to his desk and picks up his cell. “I’m going to set a timer for ten minutes. Think you can suck on it that long?”
I nod again and begin to do just that. It’s like having a sucker. But when it rests in your mouth, you suck on it instead of lick it. But this doesn’t have a flavor. Cherry is my favorite.
He sits down at his desk and begins to work on his computer, dismissing me while I sit here trying my hardest to be his good girl.
I toss back my vodka, trying to drown my memories. It’s not working. James played on the fact that I used to listen in on my mother’s sessions. He would have me take notes and then discuss them with him. It was his way of trapping me. The more I knew, the more he could take it to my mother, and I’d be in trouble.
I wish I had understood that then. That I wouldn’t have been so stupid. He taught me that it was okay to like what I liked. For my body to crave what it craved. I hated him for it. And I hate myself even more. That I got off on it.
I try to tell myself that I didn’t know better. But I did. I knew listening in on the sessions was wrong. I knew that wanting those things I heard was wrong. I knew letting him touch me was wrong. But it felt so good. Being wanted felt good. I had felt lost and ignored for so long. I was lonely, until I wasn’t.