Page 32 of A Stable Daddy

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The kids take the news just as well as I’d anticipated. I had originally told them when I was going back out to the clubs again, brutally honest about my needs and my fears that I wouldn’t feel right scratching my itches with someone who wasn’t Maddy. Since then, they’ve both encouraged me to put myself out there, to find happiness and companionship, and they’re both supportive when I tell them that I’ve met someone.

“I want to know all about him,” Mak declares during the conference video chat we’ve established between the three of us.“What’s his name? How did you meet?”

“Well,” I lick my lips and watch as Trev’s eyes narrow on the screen of my laptop. I prefer talking to them both this way, with a bigger screen than my phone can provide. I get to see their faces properly, which is nice because I miss them both terribly. “You remember how I said a Dom stepped in to help me when another Dom was…not treating me well?”

Yeah, I told them about that experience, too. Initially, it was because I’d still been reeling and had wanted Trev’s perspective as someone familiar with criminal law. But, as I had rehashed it with them, I realised that I’d also wanted to tell them because I would want them to feel comfortable telling me such things if the tables were turned. As uncomfortable —and even upsetting— as it was to talk about, I’m glad I have such a close, open relationship with them. Their support also went a long way in helping me process what I’d gone through.

Trev blinks. “But…that happened in Brissie. Did you keep in touch with him? Your white knight?”

“He’s more a cowboy than a knight…” I mutter before my brain can properly engage, and Mak laughs.

“So, that’s a yes, then?”

“Actually, no.” I really do enjoy telling this part of the story. It’s like something out of a romcom. “By pure coincidence, we met again out at a cattle station in Yalardy. Turns out, he was just passing through Brissie in the end. Weird, right?”

Trev’s gaze turns distant and there’s the distinct clacking of keys from his end of the call. I watch him scrunch his nose. “Yalardy’s like three hours from Denham,” he says. “Isn’t that a pain in the arse? Plus, he’s a stationhand?” He looks at the camera with a frown. “Don’t they work stupidly long hours and for weeks on end? How do you even date someone with that kind of schedule?”

“I swear to God, Trev,” Mak sighs. “Can you not try to be positive? Papa’shappyand you’re being all—”

“It’s fine,” I cut in before they can squabble like children. I have the feeling they’ll still bicker like five-year-olds even when they’re in their eighties. “It’s not like he’s wrong. But,” I smile, thinking about the amazing week I spent with Oscar, “his boss runs things a bit differently to most stations and we get to see each other for a week at a time every few weeks. It’s working for us.”

“Good,” Mak’s tone suggests that Trev had better agree with her or else. Then she smiles. “So…he’s a stationhand. Does he have a name?”

Getting comfy in my seat, I sit back and prepare to babble happily about my boyfriend.

It’s been a long time since I’ve felt this way, and I can only hope that it’s a good indication of times to come.

Chapter Fourteen - Oscar

It’s not difficult to fall into a routine after that first visit to Ryan’s place. While I’m working, I call, text and Facetime with him wherever possible, and on my weeks off, I drive to Denham and take up my role as his house-Daddy with pleasure. I fill his freezer with home cooked meals, though I do make an effort to take him on dates and spoil him as any good Daddy should, too.

In the privacy of his home, we also fall into a routine as Dom and Sub. Ryan craves the release and endorphins from regular discipline, and I love that he trusts me to meet his needs. It’s not always spankings, either. As time moves on, we experiment with various toys like nipple clamps, floggers and whips, and I particularly enjoy edging him, adding to his frustration by introducing remote controlled vibrating plugs and chastity cages. I love making my Boy beg to come.

The guys at the station tease me about how smitten I am, and Ryan confesses that his colleague, Sarah, teases him just as much whenever she catches him smiling at his phone. It’s nice to have that, I decide, even if I do threaten to kick Jim’s ass every time I catch him making kissy faces at me. Back home, I’d come across a couple of guys who were also active in the BDSM scene, but there’s something special about the group of men at this station.

It’s like something out of a soap opera or cheesy LGBTQ romance novel: not the kind of set up you’d really expect to comeacross in real life. But every last one of the men I work with are somewhere on the queer and kinky spectrum, and they’ve become more of a family to me than the flesh and blood I left back in Texas.

Come to think of it, I should probably let my folks know I’m still alive out here, not that my pops would probably care either way. I was dead to him the moment I told him where he could shove his expectations of me. But Mama would care, even if our relationship is strained, courtesy of her being torn between wanting what’s best for me and wanting to keep Pops happy.

When my phone rings in the middle of the day on a Thursday, four days away from my next week off, I frown when I see Ryan’s name and smiling face on my screen. I take a moment to drink in the photo I took of him during our trip to Shell Beach, with the blue water sparkling behind him, contrasting with the white of the shells, the sunlight making his skin and smile even more vibrant. It’s my favourite of all the photos we’ve taken together. But then I realise that he wouldn’t be calling me on a workday if it wasn’t important, and I hurry to press the green ‘accept call’ button.

“Hello?” I ask cautiously, stepping away from the fence I’d been mending. I pull my hat from my head and use it to fan myself in the heat of the midday sun. “What’s up, darlin’? Everything okay?”

“I…I’m being sued,” he says, sounding like he’s about five seconds from breaking down, and my frown deepens, both at the panic in his voice and at his words.

“Sued?” I repeat, dumbfounded. “For what? By whom?”

“For defamation by—hey, did you actually just use ‘whom’ correctly? Honestly, who says ‘whom’ in conversation? Been hanging out with the King of England or something?”

“Ryan,” I bring out my Daddy Dom voice, trying not to smile at his questions. “Focus. Defamation? Why?”

He’s quiet for a moment before he sighs. “The guy from The Vault. He’s suing me for making that police report. Apparently, it caused damage to his reputation or character or whatever when they came to question him.”

“His behaviour caused damage to his character,” I growl, outright scowling at the reminder of the son of a bitch in question. Flashbacks of finding Ryan terrified and calling out for help churn my gut. I wish I’d turned around and planted my fist in that evil asshole’s face. Even more so now that he’s found a new way to torture my beautiful Boy. “Honey, he’s not gonna get far with that lawsuit.”

“But…”

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