Page 34 of Giddy Up, Daddy

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Tell me the truth.”

Right. The truth. Simple, huh?

Sort of.

“Yes.”

“Yes, what, baby?”

“Yes, to all of it. I want you. I got . . . I got turned on.”

“So your little pussy is wet?” he asked.

No, she couldn’t. She couldn’t reply.

Closing her eyes, she nodded.

“Say it,” he commanded.

“I don’t think I can,” she wailed.

“Oh, baby. If you have trouble saying it, you’re going to struggle with your punishment.”

What? Opening her eyes, she gaped at him. “I thought this was the punishment?”

His eyebrows rose. “What? Staying here and talking to me?”

Um. Yep.

She nodded.

“Aww, my poor baby, no.” Stafford ran his hands up and down her thighs. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes.”

“Such a good girl. But I want you to listen carefully. If I do anything you don’t want, if something hurts, you’re scared, uncomfortable, upset, then you say red.”

“What are you going to do?” she cried.

“I’m not going to harm you. I promise. And I will always stop if you say red. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Now, tell me, is your little pussy wet?”

“Yes! Yes, it’s wet.”

“I’ll let you get away with that, but you’re going to have to practice saying pussy.”

Dear Lord.

“Stand up.”

He helped her stand and then reached for the button of her black jeans. He paused, glancing up at her. Why had he stopped?

He’s giving you a moment to protest, idiot.

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