Page 22 of Tame Me Daddy

"Are you a Daddy Dom?"

The words hung in the air between us. For a brief moment, panic flashed through me—had I completely misread the situation? Had I just revealed my deepest secret to my boss based on a misunderstanding?

Grant's eyebrows rose slightly, surprise flickering across his features before his expression settled into one of gentle confirmation.

"Yes I am," he replied simply.

Then, in a way I'd never expected, he continued: "And I suspect you're a little, aren't you, Cherry?"

The world seemed to freeze around me. The ticking clock, the distant sounds of ranch activity outside the window, the creak of the leather chair under my weight—all faded away. There was only Grant's steady gaze and the thundering of my heart as I sat there, exposed by his words.

"How did you know?" I whispered, my voice small and vulnerable.

A small smile touched Grant's lips. Not mocking—understanding.

"I've known since our first phone conversation," he said. "Something in your voice—the way it shifted when you were nervous. My 'daddy radar,' as someone once called it, was signaling strongly."

I remembered that call—how nervous I'd been, how desperately I'd wanted the job. Had I let my guard down without realizing it?

Grant's expression grew more serious. "Then watching you these past few days—your response to praise, the way you seemed to react to the toy horse in my office, the way you slip into Littlespacce when stressed—it all confirmed my suspicions."

I felt simultaneously exposed and, incredibly, relieved. The weight of hiding, of pretending to be only one version of myself when I was actually more complex—it had been exhausting. But relief quickly gave way to fear.

"Are you—" I began, then stopped, struggling to find the words. "Is this—?"

Grant seemed to understand my unspoken question. "I'm not threatening your job, Cherry. This isn't an ultimatum. Far from it."

He leaned forward slightly, his expression earnest. "It's an invitation to explore whether this dynamic might help you integrate that part of yourself you've been hiding while also overcoming your work-related fears."

I studied his face, looking for signs of deception or manipulation, but found only openness and sincerity. Still, years of rejection and shame made trust difficult.

"What exactly would it involve?" I asked, my voice steadier than I expected.

Grant's voice took on a gentle yet authoritative tone that made something inside me quiver with recognition.

"Structure. Clear expectations. Consistent consequences when those expectations aren't met," he said. "For today's incident,it would mean corporal punishment—a spanking—followed by comfort and reassurance."

The very word 'spanking' made my cheeks burn, not entirely from embarrassment but from the stirring of desires I'd long tried to suppress. A tingling warmth spread through my body, settling low in my belly.

I could barely believe this was happening.

"Moving forward," Grant continued, either not noticing or kindly ignoring my reaction, "it would mean regular check-ins, guidance with your work, and a safe space to express your little side when appropriate."

He paused, giving me time to absorb his words before adding, "You would need to consent fully. We would set clear boundaries and agree on a safe word. This is about your growth and well-being, not just my authority."

The care in his explanation touched something deep inside me. Although I’d never had a DDlg relationship before, I'd read enough about them to know that what he described was thoughtful, ethical, and respectful.

"Why would you do this?" I asked, still puzzled by his offer. "Why help me this way?"

His expression softened further, and for a moment, I glimpsed vulnerability behind his own strong exterior.

"Because I see the potential in you, Cherry," he replied. "Not just as a ranch hand, but as a person who deserves to be whole—all parts of yourself integrated, not hidden away in shame."

He shifted slightly in his chair, a rare moment of uncertainty from the otherwise confident ranch owner. "And because this dynamic fulfills needs in me too. Being a caretaker, a guide—it's simply part of who I am. It’s a part of myself I don’t get to explore as much as I would like."

I sat silently, absorbing every word. The offer before me was terrifying yet exactly what I had secretly yearned for: acceptance,guidance, and a safe haven to be my complete self. After so long of hiding, of burdening myself with shame for desires I couldn't control, I found myself at a crossroads.

After what had happened with my parents, I felt terrible vulnerability at the thought of someone knowing this about me, and yet, I was desperate to try.

---