Page 152 of Daddy, Sir

After we finished, Zeke insisted on cleaning up by himself and sent me to my room for some free time. Well, free time without my phone, I reminded myself as I made my way down the short hall. Maybe I’d take a bath. That sounded like a nice relaxing thing to do after a very trying morning.

The bath was exactly what the doctor ordered and I emerged feeling fresh and clean and ready to face the world head-on. Or face my commanding Daddy head-on, at least.

He was sitting on the couch reading when I emerged from my room at the exact time he told me to, and I took a second to admire him in his relaxed state. Feet up on the coffee table, book in hand, reading glasses on. He was sexy as sin.

Knock it off,I scolded myself.

He glanced at the clock on the wall and smiled. “Good girl. Did you enjoy your bath?”

“I did, very much. Thank you.”

“Good. Now let’s chat more about this morning and our expectations with this arrangement, shall we?”

I took a deep fortifying breath and sat down next to him. “Yes, Sir, Daddy, Sir.” I still stumbled again over what title to use.

“You know, I’m beginning to like that response. It fits, and I think we’ll keep it.”

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. Of course we would keep it. Of course I would inevitably make things more complicated for myself, I mean why wouldn’t I? It was what I always did.

Zeke

I could see Lola’s mind wander, and I wanted to keep her in the present so I set my book down and gave her my full attention. We discussed her mini meltdown at lunch and I laid out all of my rules for her, having her write them down so she wouldn’t forget them or feel like I was being unfair if she got punished. There were a lot of rules, and they didn’t even cover the little rituals I would have when it came to certain things like spankings and other punishments. Those she would learn in time.

To her credit, she didn’t complain once about my nitpicky little rules. On the contrary, the more rules I gave her, the more she seemed to relax. It was fascinating, and more telling than any conversation we’d had up to that point.

We hung the rules up in her room and then created a daily and weekly schedule. She had to work, and I had to work, and I wanted everything laid out so there were no surprises.

By the time everything was said and done, it was time for me to make dinner. Lola insisted she could take over cooking and cleaning duties, but I shot that down. I’d always done thecooking and cleaning for myself before she moved in, and I would do it after the arrangement was complete.

I also felt like cooking and cleaning for a man was part of the toxicity that had been poured into her. Part of the lies we were trying to purge. She didn’t need to do anything to increase her value as a human. She had value just because she was who she was.

If her time with me taught her anything, that’s what I wanted her to learn. She didn’t like it, and she made it known as she hovered outside the kitchen.

“If you can’t find a productive way to spend your time, I can assign you some lines, or maybe an essay to keep you busy,” I told her without stopping what I was doing or even looking in her direction.

Her little gasp of surprise and the quick patter of her bare feet across the wood floor as she skittered away made me chuckle. If she only knew how fucking adorable she was, and how wrapped around her finger I could see myself becoming, it would be a dangerous thing. I hoped she wouldn’t find out, at least not anytime soon.

We got through dinner without any incidents and even enjoyed each other’s company. I almost hated having to remind her that she had another punishment coming before bed, and that it would be worse than the quick correction I gave her after lunch. I needed to make a point. One of my biggest pet peeves was someone being late. She would learn that soon enough, I had no doubt, and since our earlier talk, I was feeling confident that this was going to work even better than I’d hoped.

Chapter Four

Lola

Three weeks. Three weeks of following Zeke’s rules all day, being spanked and cornered and made to write lines until my hand felt like it was going to fall off. Then being his spoiled babygirl at night with homemade dinners, movie marathons, sweet treats, luxurious baths—that he ran for me, then stepped out to let me soak, of course—before I finally gave in to my inner voice and reminded him that while his neverending list of rules really was helping me in ways I hadn’t expected, none of that was the reason I’d showed up at the club asking for help, And with all Zeke’s lectures about accountability, and forgiveness, I’d realized there was something I still needed to be forgiven for—something that would make this experience come full circle.

So as I sat across from him at dinner, wondering what kind of fun things he’d have to spoil me with after if I behaved, I brought it up at the end of a conversation about my progress and how pleased he was that I seemed to be having a much easier time following his rules, and thriving throughout the process.

“Zeke… I mean, Daddy?”

“Yes, babygirl? What’s up? Penny for your thoughts?”

I smiled at the familiar turn of phrase. Zeke asked me that at least once a day. He always wanted to know what I was thinking. I liked that. I wondered if he’d regret it when he heard what I was thinking today.

I pushed my fork across my plate, dragging it through the leftover salad dressing, and forced myself to look up to meet his gaze. “I was thinking, Daddy, about how much you’ve helped me, and how you’re always talking about absolution from guilt and how powerful it can be to be punished and put things behind you.”

“Oh?” That was all he said, clearly waiting for me to continue.

“There’s something I still feel really guilty about. I’ve been trying to move past it on my own, but I can’t seem to. I think because of this…”I gestured between us,“it’s a lot more prevalent on my mind.”

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