Page 18 of Thrust Me Daddy

‘What’s done is done,’ Trent says, working his fingers into the crevices of my ass to ensure that no part of my spanked behind goes untouched. ‘You took your punishment like a true Little, and I’m glad to say that I feel proud of you.’

Trent’s words fill me with pride too.

I might be bigger than most other Littles, but my needs are just the same – and I can tell that Trent understands that.

We might barely know one another, but I’m already getting the feeling that we have a great understanding about how we each feel.

‘Now, pull those trousers up boy and get back out to work,’ Trent says, a hearty laugh following his words. ‘No boy of mine will ever be accused of slacking off at work.’

‘Yes, Daddy,’ I say, thrilled by his words.

Am I truly his Little now?

And is Trent my Daddy?

I’m sure we’ll figure that out later, but right now I know that I need to listen to what Trent is telling me – after all, after that first spanking I don’t think I’m anywhere near ready to take any more discipline from Trent.

Whatever happens between us from here on out, I think it’s safe to say that any doubts I had over Trent’s authenticity as a Daddy have been put to bed once and for all.

And speaking ofbeds… I wonder how long it will be before I end up face down and ass up on Trent’s bed?

Chapter 6

Trent

‘The boy’s got something about him,’ I chuckle, putting my Porsche in gear and pulling away from the Torros Tornados new training complex.

As I drive away, I’m already replaying the sight and sound of Mikey’s strong, round ass taking the full force of my spanks.

What made the whole thing even more appealing was the way Mikey’s cheeks were so perfectly framed by his bright-white jockstrap.

Seriously, there’s something about a fresh jock that makes any boy’s butt look an extra level of delicious – but Mikey’s ass was just insanely appealing.

I drive down the freeway and decide to make a quick pitstop atDark Beanto have one final coffee for the day.

Unsurprisingly, there’s no sign of the cute barista or Ranger – and it wouldn’t take a genius to work out exactly what they’re up to right now either!

But as I take my seat with an iced, sea-salt infused maple latte, I let out a big sigh of satisfaction – and not just because I’vemanaged to order such an elaborate and non-Daddy drink without being caught by my Daddy friends.

No, the truth is I’m still high from dishing out the full-on spanking to Mikey. The way the boy took my best and hardest spanking was like nothing I’d experienced before.

But it wasn’t just a case of me letting rip and hoping for the best.

The whole time, I was making sure that Mikey was able to handle it, and to my very pleasant surprise I could see that he was dealing with everything just fine.

Of course, that isn’t to say that my spanks weren’t pushing him close to the limit by the end, but there was a clear resilience and determination to take his punishment like a big boy that I really enjoyed seeing.

But a morning spanking is one thing, what I need to know now is whether me and Mikey have a possible future together.

The prospect of the spanking being a one and done situation is something that does not appeal to me at all. I know in my heart that there’s something else, something deeper, between me and Mikey but at the same time it’s still way too early to even be thinking along those lines.

I might want a deeper relationship, but that doesn’t just mean I can summon one at the click of my fingers. These things take time and work from both sides, and right now I barely know anything about Mikey let alone whether he’s long term boy material or not.

I’m not going to get hung up on that right now though, as I have a beautifully frivolous coffee to drink away from the judgmental eyes of my espresso-only Daddy friends.

As I’m sipping on my ice-cold coffee, I take my cell phone out of my pocket and see an email that sends me into something of a spin.

‘You’ve got to be kidding me…’ I say, the words tumbling out of my mouth as I see that for the first time in what must be seven or eight years, I’ve received an email from my Uncle Peter.

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