Page 25 of Daddy!

"Yes, Sir."

"Good girl."

In the end, the rules he settled on—with thoughtful insights from me, even though I knew that the final decision was with him, which was the way I wanted it, anyway—were few and very thoughtful, designed specifically for me. And they weren't, as I had suspected they wouldn't be, very different from the ones he had been formulating for me as my dom.

I had an earlier bedtime and a no touch rule. Adult underwear was out, except for a good reason, like a gynecological visit. He was "Daddy" or "Sir" to me, not "Mane", unless we were in company.

The same rules about my health applied as they had before—don't skip a doctor's appointment, don't cancel without talking to Daddy first, and take meds on time, always.

There might be more if we were living together—which was something we hadn't really discussed before—because I leaned towards messy, and Lord knew he didn't. But Daddy said we would count those bridges when they hatched. The only time during the rule making discussion that I was at all uncomfortable was when he was snuggling me after he'd put his tablet away.

"Before we begin to kill our remaining brain cells with television, there's something else I wanted to talk to you about, and it's kind of serious. I love you to be little with me, but you might feel the need to be big because of the subject matter."

I was tense with anticipation. I couldn't imagine what he might say. But he really didn't say anything, at first. He just reached out and touched the necklace I was wearing. The one I always wore. The one from someone who was not him.

His voice was husky with emotion when he spoke. "I just want to say that, eventually, I'm going to want you to get rid of that, so that I can replace it with my own. I think I've been very patient about you continuing to wear it, even though you're mine. I understand that it's made you feel safe in the past, even though he's out of your life, but I want to be the one who makes you feel safe. I think it's my right, as your Daddy." He paused, then added, "And it might seem strange to want to collar a little girl—"

I shook my head. "No, it doesn't. It sounds right. And you do make me feel so safe and so very loved—" I grabbed his arms and leaned my forehead on his. I wanted him to believe that so badly. "But…" I wasn't prepared, frankly, to take it off just then. It wasn't too far down the line, probably, if everything kept going as amazingly well between us as it had been, and I wanted to, but it was still a bit of a safety net for me, for some reason, and I just couldn't.

And that made me feel terrible, considering how wonderful he had been to me, although I knew that wasn't his intention, and I couldn't stop the tears.

"I know, pumpkin. I know." Mane hugged me tight. "You don't have to say any more, and I wasn't asking you to take it off right now. I just wanted to introduce the subject to you, because the time is coming when I will not tolerate you wearing any other man's jewelry, especially one that was once as significant to you as this." He let me cry it out, reassuring me and comforting me the entire time.

And that night, instead of merely pleasuring me, as he had been all weekend—subverting his own needs in order to put mine ahead of his—he made very slow, sweet love to me, bringing tears to my eyes that never fell, but were there the entire time, because he kept me in little for it. He was his usual darling, caretaking self throughout, selflessly, totally my Daddy. He seemed to be very concerned that I not be scared by what he was doing, so he explained things and told me what to expect always before he did them as we went along, and it was the most tender, most profound coming together that I could ever have dreamt of.

Chapter 8

Nothing I had done in my life could ever convince me that I deserved the happiness I had found with Mane.

"I'm sooooo jelly," Bette whined, taking a big gulp of a truly enormous glass of pinot as she leaned back on her chaise lounge. "You were lucky with him before—that man treats you like twenty-four karat gold. Now you're like…I don't know…plutonium or something like that."

I think she might have been thinking of platinum, but potato, potahto.

I was huddled up in her husband's oversized recliner, which I loved. I was thinking of asking Daddy to buy one for us. It would fit the two of us easily, and I was envisioning nights of cuddling with him, watching little movies, and eating things he probably wouldn't let me eat, which was really what I was doing here at Bette's.

"Yeah, I was just thinking that I'm bound to get smacked upside the head by the fickle backhand of fate at some point, but I'm going to enjoy the crap out of this for as long as that man is willing to put up with me."

My friend put her wine glass down, so I knew she meant business. "So, tell a poor vanilla girl here what it's all about, hmm? What do you two do and what makes you get off on whatever it is that you do?"

How could I describe it to her? Who knows what makes anyone like anything?

This was the first time I had been able to get together with her for a while. Bette—who was a teacher, just in elementary school rather than high school, like I was—had taken some time—and the kids—up to her mom's place in Nova Scotia at the beginning of summer vacation. So, I hadn't seen her in a couple months, not since my screaming fiasco.

Back then, we were very near the end of the school year. Now, we were staring at the first day of school, only a few days away—which was why we were indulging ourselves in a girls' night. Her husband was gone on travel and the kids were at sleepovers. She had the house to herself and had called me as soon as she knew that was going to come together, wanting me to come over and see what kind of trouble we could get into.

And that was exactly how I phrased it to Mane.

"Just a second. I have to ask."

I could almost hear her eye roll at that from where I was in his kitchen.

It was Wednesday, and she wanted me to stay with her for a whole weekend of drinking, eating, more drinking, binging TV shows no one else would watch with us, more drinking…

He knew what our weekends together were comprised of, and I kinda didn't think he was going to let me go.

"May I?" I asked, holding my hand over my phone.

My Daddy was in the middle of grilling us some gorgeous steaks for what might be the last time till next year. In New Hampshire, you never knew what the weather was going to do; snow in September wasn't all that unusual. He turned away from it to pull me to him.

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