Page 17 of Puck Me Daddy

Demian looked at me then, his gaze piercing through the fog of uncertainty that clouded my mind. "We'll take it slow," he said, his voice gentle yet firm. "We'll find what works for you, and we'll adjust as needed. But know that I will always prioritize your safety and well-being."

His words, simple and sincere, filled me with a warmth that spread from my chest to the tips of my fingers. I felt a rush of gratitude, a sense of being seen and understood in a way I had never experienced before. I knew that I was making the right decision, that Demian was a man I could trust to guide me through this uncharted territory.

Gradually, I felt the tension in my body begin to ease. The contract, once a daunting obstacle, now felt like a roadmap, a guide to the journey that lay ahead. I knew there would be challenges, moments of doubt and fear, but with Demian by my side, I felt ready to face them head-on.

In fact, as we continued to discuss the specifics of our dynamic, I couldn't help but feel a growing sense of arousal. Theidea of submitting to Demian, of letting go of my inhibitions and embracing my inner child, was intoxicating.

"Before we go ahead and sign this, Tilly, I want to make one thing crystal clear. I want you to be my Little girl," Demian said, his voice taking on a commanding tone that sent a thrill through me. "I want to take care of you, to protect you, to cherish you."

I bit my lip, my heart racing at his words. "Yes," I said, my voice barely audible. "I want that too."

He leaned in, his breath warm against my cheek. "Then let's make it official," he said, his lips brushing against my ear. "Let's sign the contract and seal our bond."

My hand shook as I signed the contract, the pen feeling foreign in my grasp. Demian's signature, bold and confident, already graced the line above mine. The black ink gleamed under the soft office light, a tangible testament to our mutual agreement.

I exhaled slowly, my heart pounding in my chest. The document felt heavy in my hands, as if it contained the weight of the world. I glanced at Demian, his gray eyes locked onto mine, revealing a depth of emotion I hadn't seen before.

"Well, looks like it's official," he said, his voice low and husky. A smirk played at the corner of his lips, but his gaze remained serious.

I nodded, swallowing hard. "Yeah . . . I guess it is."

After signing the contract, I sat there, my heart hammering in my chest. The weight of our agreement seemed to hang heavy in the air, pressing down on me like a thick blanket. I fidgeted with the hem of my blouse, my fingers tracing the intricate stitching as I gathered the courage to ask the question that had been lingering on the tip of my tongue.

Demian must have sensed my apprehension because he reached over and placed his hand on top of mine, stilling my fidgeting. His touch was warm and reassuring, sending a jolt ofelectricity up my arm. I swallowed hard and looked up at him, my eyes meeting his piercing gray gaze.

"So...are we going to start tonight?" I asked, my voice wavering slightly.

Demian's expression softened as he brushed a loose strand of hair away from my face. "Not tonight, sweetheart," he said gently. "I want you to be rested and able to fully process the magnitude of what we've agreed to."

I felt a mixture of relief and disappointment wash over me. Part of me was eager to dive headfirst into this new dynamic, to explore the unknown and surrender myself to Demian completely. But another part of me was scared, unsure if I was truly ready to embrace my Little space in such an intimate way.

Demian seemed to sense my internal struggle because he leaned in and pressed a tender kiss to my forehead. "We'll take things slow, Tilly," he murmured. "I promise you, I’ll get this right for you."

His words were like a balm to my frazzled nerves, calming my racing thoughts and easing my fears. I leaned into his touch, savoring the feel of his strong arms around me. For the first time in a long time, I felt truly safe and cared for.

Finally, I pulled away from his embrace and looked up at him, my eyes shining with anticipation. "Thank you," I said. “For everyting.”

As I gathered my belongings, the weight of the signed documents nestled in my bag, I felt a sudden urge to use the bathroom. My throat went dry, and I nervously asked, "Um, could I . . . ?"

Demian leaned against the doorframe, his muscular arms crossed over his chest. A sly smile played on his lips as he responded, "Of course, Tilly. But remember, you need to call me Daddy if you want my permission." He winked at me.

My heart pounded like a drum, and my cheeks flushed with heat. I hesitated, the word "Daddy" stuck on the tip of my tongue. Swallowing hard, I finally managed to whisper, "Daddy, may I go to the bathroom?"

The moment I said it, a jolt of electricity coursed through me. It felt strange yet oddly comforting to call him that—like slipping into a well-worn pair of shoes. Demian's eyes gleamed with approval, and he gave a curt nod. "Go ahead, sweetheart," he said, motioning toward the bathroom.

With trembling legs, I made my way across the plush carpet and closed the door behind me. Taking a deep breath, I reminded myself that this was what I wanted—to explore this part of myself with someone I trusted. And after tonight, I knew without a doubt that Demian was that person. He had shown me nothing but kindness, patience, and understanding, and I felt safe in his capable hands.

Mustering up my courage, I splashed some cold water on my face and took a few steadying breaths. I looked around the exquisite bathroom, grounding myself. It was decorated in shades of cream and gold, with intricate patterns adorning the walls and floor. A large clawfoot bathtub stood in the corner, begging to be used.

“Not exactly grounding,” I whispered to myself with a chuckle. “I feel like I just stepped into a magazine.”

With a smile on my face, I opened the door and stepped back into the office. Demian was sitting at his desk, his fingers steepled beneath his chin as he watched me intently.

"Feeling better?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.

I nodded, managing a weak smile. "Yes, thank you."

He stood up and walked over to me, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder. "You did great tonight, Tilly. I'm proud of you."

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