Page 160 of Daddy, Take Me Away
“Whatever you say? No exceptions? No guidelines on that?” I glared. “How do I know you won’t abuse your power?”
Cas glanced over long enough for me to see him roll his eyes. “It’s hard to set expectations when I don’t know how things are going to go. But sure, we can put guidelines on it, if you want.”
I considered. The only guidelines I could think of were to say that he couldn’t use the rules to make me do anything sexual, but if he did… that would be kind of hot.
“No thanks. I’m good,” I muttered, crossing my arms over my chest.
“The second rule is you stay with me. At all times. No going anywhere without my permission.”
“Not anywhere? Not even the bathroom?” I was pushing, being obstinate, but I didn’t expect him to say yes.
“Not even there. Not when we’re outside the safety of our hotel room. Daddy needs to know where you are at all times. We are not doing a Vegas repeat.”
My bottom burned at the mention of Vegas as if simply saying the word was enough to reignite the sting. I whimpered. “Do you have any ibuprofen?”
Cas narrowed his eyes, his expression worried. “You got a headache, babygirl?”
“No. My butt hurts.”
“Oh.” He laughed. “Yeah, sorry, babygirl. No pain relief for a sore bottom. The lingering pain is an important part of the punishment. Helps remind you to behave in the future.”
“But I will,” I whined. “I don’t need to be in pain all day. That sucks. I’ll remember to behave, I promise.”
The truth was, there was a teeny tiny part of me that was already plotting how else to get in trouble, just to see what would happen. Nothing extreme, nothing crazy like Vegas had been, but just something to get us back in the place we had been post-punishment, before we’d been so rudely interrupted by dinner.
Cas didn’t dignify my whining with a response. “Next rule,” he grunted.
My stomach did a little flip at his deliciously dominant tone, and I rolled my eyes at my own ridiculousness. My ass was on fire. Why was I looking for ways to get in more trouble?
“Another rule?” I asked, secretly pleased.
“Last one for now. Your phone. It should be charged and on you at all times. I call, you answer. I text, you text back.”
“Why would you call or text if I’m not supposed to be out of your sight?”
Cas growled. “I’m just making sure to cover all my bases, babygirl. You know what? You seem to have a little bit of an attitude on you this morning. Maybe we should have an exercise in submission right now.”
Yes, please. I licked my lips. An exercise in submission? What did that mean? Would he ask me to give him road-head or pull over at a gas station and put a plug in my ass? Would he stuff his cock down my throat and fuck my face until I was begging for air?
As it turned out, I read too many dirty books, and the answer was nothing even half as exciting. As if he'd read my mind, and knew exactly where my brain had gone, Cas turned to me with a knowing smirk, and pointed at my water bottle. “Drink your water, babygirl. It’s hot out there, and you need to stay hydrated.”
Stunned, and a little bored out of my mind from the bland request, I blinked at him. Oh god, how I wanted to fight. But I knew this was not the hill to die on. So, with my eyes locked on his, I picked up my water bottle and downed about half of the liquid inside before popping the cap back on, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, and saying ‘yes, Daddy’ with as much sweetness as I could possibly muster.
Cas looked honestly surprised that I’d obeyed. “That’s Daddy’s good girl.”
The praise was worth it.
Chapter Eight
Cas
For the rest of the days’ drive, and at both stops, Polly was well-behaved. I wasn’t sure if I was satisfied with a job well done, and a lesson well learned or disappointed at not having another chance to have her ass-up across my lap.
Maybe a little bit of both, but I didn’t need to be either, because as it happened, Polly’s well-behavedness ended the second the hotel room door closed behind us. Or maybe I pushed her brat to the surface on purpose…
“I’m so tirrrred,” Polly whined, collapsing face first onto one of the beds. “Did you write down your plan somewhere, cause I need to look it over and see how much hiking you’ve added. This was supposed to be a semi-relaxing trip, not an utterly exhausting one.”
“I’m sorry, did you not enjoy feeding the donkeys, or hiking the Grand Canyon?” I knew she had, because she’d been bouncy and excited all day, and purchased a ton of souvenirs from the old western ghost town.
