Page 1 of Daddy's Naughty List

A Bucket List for Daddy

A Club Apocalypse Novella

By Raisa Greywood

Chapter One

Walt

“I want a blue unicorn named Merlin to be a friend for Uther Penunicorn, and all the Kinder eggs, but not the ones from America, which have bad toys, and pink Docs with butterflies, and…” Gabby Knox squirmed on Walt’s lap and straightened her tartan pinafore dress as her husband, Sean Franklin, otherwise known as Death, watched over her. “Oh, I almost forgot, Santa! Ineeda Weatherby 307 with a Nikon scope so I can practice marksmanship with Daddy. I want it to be pink to match my boots.”

“I see.” Walt Thompson hid a smile at her somewhat eclectic wish list. “Have you been a good girl, Miss Gabby?”

“Of course not. Daddy likes it when I’m naughty.” She giggled and kissed Walt’s bearded cheek, then hopped from his lap. “What a silly question, Santa!”

Sean rolled his eyes and smiled wryly as Susan Metz, Walt’s pretty elf, gave Gabby a gaily wrapped box which, judging by the size and shape, contained the rifle she wanted. Sadly, it probably wouldn’t be pink.

Every little at Club Apocalypse got a present, ostensibly from Santa, but chosen by their Daddy or Mommy.

Hell, he didn’t even mind the itchy Santa suit, or the sweat beading under the furry hat. Thankfully, he’d managed to grow out a decent beard for the occasion, so he didn’t have to wear a fake one.

Strange how things turned out. Before Walt retired from the sheriff’s department, he would have said Club Apocalypse needed to be shut down. It had taken way too long for him to realize the gossip about it being a brothel wasn’t true.

In fact, Navajo County was better for its presence. Even if he didn’t count the increased tax revenue, the Four Horsemen and their wives had finally managed to get rid of The Shepherds of the Coming Peace cult—the real thorn in his side.

The land where the cult compound once stood now boasted a women’s shelter with highly trained female guards, a state-of-the-art security system, a job center, and even had educational outreach from the University of Arizona, all supported by the Horsemen and the Caroline Foundation, named for the mother of Ryan Wood’s wife, Carrie. Rumor had it that the start-up funding for the foundation came from the Shepherd’s hidden assets, which to his mind showed karma was alive and well in Arizona.

“It’s Kendra’s turn to sit on Santa’s lap,” Mark Luciano—also known as War—pronounced as he pushed Club Apocalypse’s vice president of operations toward Walt.

Walt hid a frown and glanced at Susan, who shrugged. Gabby’s had been the last gift, and he didn’t have anything for Kendra.

He wished he had something to give Susan too. She worked hard, both in the dungeon as a scene assistant, and in the restaurant as a server, but never took any of the numerous invitations to play. Hell, she’d even helped out during the classes he’d taken, and as his experience in BDSM grew, so too did her confidence.

She definitely wasn’t the same woman who had clutched his arm like she was afraid someone would try to stop her when he took her away from the Shepherds. Aside from gaining a bit of much-needed weight, the look of weary desperation in her eyes was gone and she didn’t flinch at loud noises anymore.

Well, not as much as before anyway.

Her bravery still astonished him. For her to work at a bondage club after all the abuse she’d suffered… Susan wouldn’t believe him if he told her, but she was the strongest woman he knew, and he admired the hell out of her.

Susan took Kendra’s hand to lead her to the giant chair where Walt sat. “Come sit on Santa’s lap, Ms. Hall.”

“Didn’t I tell you to call me Kendra?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

Susan’s warm brown eyes twinkled as she smiled, revealing cute dimples he suddenly wanted to kiss. With her red-and-white elf outfit, striped tights, and a green hat with a bell on it covering her silky brown hair, she was adorable. He loved seeing her secure enough to be willing to tease Kendra too.

Of course, it wasn’t the first time he’d wanted to kiss Susan breathless—amongst other things—but at fifteen years her senior, he was too old for her.

“Brat.” Dressed in a tailored pantsuit and heels, Kendra sighed and perched on his knee. “I’d like an assistant for Christmas, Santa. Failing that, I wouldn’t mind some help hauling that ginormous pile of donations to the Caroline.”

Club Apocalypse’s members and staff had outdone themselves. Comprised of toys, furniture, clothing, and everything else a woman might need to set up a home, the donations took up most of the southwestern third of the dungeon.

“I called in a favor and got you a semi with a box trailer,” Walt murmured. “Tell me something you want just for you.”

“A nap. Excuse me, please.” She jumped to her feet and hurried off to greet a new arrival before he could reply.

“Did you have a gift for her, Mark?” Walt asked.

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