Page 220 of Papa's Bébé
Right.
That was actually really smart and made sense.
“I like to be in control. You’ve called me bossy before, but you have no idea of how bossy I can get in the bedroom. There will be times I want total control. Of everything.”
“Everything?”
“Yes. Sometimes it will be a full submission night and when you walk through the door of the bedroom, there will be no negotiations, no saying no, no pausing or stopping when you cry or scream.”
“No safeword?” she whispered hoarsely. She couldn’t decide if her heart was racing out of fear or anticipation.
Actually, it might be a bit of both.
“Hey, there will always be a safeword. Always. Understand?”
Maya nodded as relief filled her.
“And there won’t be any play like that until you are certain that you are ready. No, until I’m certain that you’re ready. Because I’m not sure that you won’t just tell me what you think I want to hear. So we’ll both need to be sure that you can handle that. More, that you want it.”
“All right,” she said.
“What is your safeword?”
“I just . . . I went with red. I know it’s boring, but I?—”
“It’s not boring, Spitfire,” he told her. “It’s easy to remember and it makes sense. You should use whatever you are comfortable with. It’s not a competition to get the most interesting safeword. All right?”
“Yeah. That’s what I thought. I figured I would remember it since I’ve read about . . . about subs using it before.” She knew her cheeks were hot and that he could see her blush when he brushed his fingertips over her face.
“My beautiful girl. You are so brave. What about birth control? I’m clean, I’m checked regularly.”
“Um, it’s been a long time for me and I’m clean too. I have an implant.”
“Good,” he murmured. “Now, let’s look at your wishlist.”
“I don’t . . . there’s not really anything on it. I don’t know what I need.”
“Well, we know you like Lego.” He wrote that under wishlist.
“But I don’t need any,” she told him. “I have plenty.”
“There’s always room for more.”
“There literally isn’t,” she replied. “My house is bursting at the seams.” She paused, feeling slightly ill as she remembered she had no idea what state her house was in now. “Well, it was bursting at the seams. Do you think it’s still liveable?”
“We’ll have to wait and find out. And we can find room for everything,” he said vaguely.
“I really do have heaps.”
“Bébé, you need to learn when to stop arguing,” he told her. “Just so you know, the time was after your first protest. Then you should have stopped and said, ‘thank you, Papa.’”
She still wanted to argue since she didn’t want him spending his money on her. That just felt wrong. He was already doing so much for her. However, this seemed to be something he wanted.
“Thank you, Papa,” she told him.
“That’s my good girl. And obviously you like strawberries and dolphins. Do you have any outfits with those things on them?”
“Outfits? Um, no. Not unless my pajamas count.”
