Page 1 of Teaching His Babygirl

Prologue

“I don’t like it,”Charity says for the fifth time.

I blow out a breath of frustration. I love that she’s concerned for me, but at the same time, I’m not the fresh-faced submissive she met all those years ago. I’m twenty-seven, almost twenty-eight; this isn’t my first rodeo.

“Charity, I appreciate the concern, I really do, but I’ll be fine. It’s not like I’m meeting some dom on a dating app and heading to his house. This is a club. A club with excellent security, I might add.”

I can practically hear Charity’s mind whirring as she tries to come up with yet another excuse why going to a club alone is such a bad idea. “Why did you have to move so far away?” she finally asks.

My lips turn up into a sad smile. “You know Thurston Academy was too good an opportunity to pass up. They have a top-notch art department, and I’ll be the head of the program.

“You were the head of Colson’s art program too,” she huffs.

I can’t hold my laughter at bay. “Yeah, the art program of one—me. Not to mention the tiny art room and zero funding. You know this is the opportunity of a lifetime. We already discussed it… Hell, youencouragedme to move.”

She lets out a loud sigh. I can imagine her throwing herself back on her couch dramatically. “I guess when I was busy encouraging you to chase your dreams, I didn’t realize I would be losing my best friend.”

“You haven’t lost me. You’re stuck with me for life. Like a barnacle that has to be scraped from the sides of ships. I’m going nowhere.”

“Psh, just halfway across the country.”

My smile fades, and a wave of homesickness overcomes me. “I miss you too, Cha-cha. I’ve got to finish getting ready…”

“Okay, fine. Just promise me you’ll be careful. No creepers.”

“I think that’s something I can easily promise.”

“Good. I love you, Dar. I hope you know that I’m proud of you, even if I whine about missing you and hating that you’re gone.”

I smile at that. “I know. I love you too. I’ll call you tomorrow and give you the deets of my first trip to The Playground.”

“You better!”

We say our goodbyes, and then I finish getting ready—time to start phase two of my brand-new life.

Phase one: Dream job.

Phase two: Dream dominant. A daddy, specifically.

Phase three: Happily ever after.

Easy peasy…

Chapter One

Darlene

The Playground isn’t asbusy as I thought it would be, but it’s early yet. I came early so that I could look around a bit before my appointment with the guide assigned to me. Once I start taking in the main areas of the club, I’m glad I came in early. It’s a lot to take in.

I can’t help but smile at the stark differences between this club and other BDSM clubs I’ve visited over the years. Most are dark and have an edge to them… the central area of this club is brightly lit and decorated in purples and blues with black and silver highlights. It’s basically the opposite of the standard black leather most clubs gravitate towards.

There are other—bigger—differences. For example, the large playground in the middle of the room that gives the club its name, complete with a swing set and sandbox. There are two littles playing on the jungle gym while their daddy and mommy doms watch on with indulgent smiles on their faces. I watch for a while, then move on to see the area I will think of as the punishment area.

This part is more like a standard BDSM club, though, admittedly more colorful. The leather of the spanking benches is in varying shades of white, blue, and pink. The cuffs for the St. Andrew’s crosses are also colorful. In fact, all of the pieces of equipment have some extra flair to them. The most significant difference is the many triangular shaped spaces that are clearly recreations of corners. A punishment that is on my least favorite list—corner time. I would much rather take a good belting to sitting in a corner, staring at the wall. Boring.

I wander around, taking in the more private areas. Some are occupied with couples acting out their fantasies. I linger at one where a woman is thrown over a large man’s lap as he paddles her. I can’t hear what he’s telling her, but I can imagine he’s scolding her for whatever infraction she committed. My heart clenches in my chest at that. I want someone who will hold me accountable. Someone who will care enough to set rules and enforce them.

My sigh is a sad one. Is it too much to ask for a dominant to love me? Someone that I can trust to never hurt me and to only want what’s best for me. Someone loyal, not like the jerks I’ve dated in the past. I’m starting to wonder if it’s me that’s the problem. I’m not especially bratty, but I do have a strong will, and it takes a strong dominant to go up against it. I know it does, but surely there’s a man out there that’s up to the task.

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