Page 98 of Becoming His Perfect Daddy
Shit, he was right. I was always telling Cameron that the best way to get over his fears was to try new things, and what kind of Daddy would I be if I didn’t listen to my own advice?
Though, on the other hand, what kind of Daddy needed to be spanked? What the fuck did that say about me?
Cameron’s hand on my arm reminded me I was spinning out. Again. And that made me realize I was going to do this. My head was swirling, and I didn’t want to feel like this anymore. I wanted my peace back. Being a Daddy to my sweet boy helped, but I suspected I needed something bigger, more impactful—no pun intended—to help me this time.
I needed this.
“Are you sure you’re up for this, baby?” I asked, watching him closely for any signs of indecision.
He just smiled sweetly again, adjusting himself on his knees beside where I lay. “Of course, Daddy. We help each other, andsometimes that means our roles can switch temporarily. You’ll always be my Daddy, but as your boy, if I can help you feel better, I want to do that.”
At his words, I sat up in a rush, the blankets pooling around my lap as I pulled him in for a hard, breathless kiss. When I pulled back, his eyes were glazed over, and I grinned. I loved that I could do that to my boy.
I took a breath. “So how do we do this?”
Cameron’s eyebrow quirked, and I knew I was in for it. He was just mischievous enough to have some fun with this. “Well, I think over my lap would be best. And since I’m not experienced at this, maybe we need a paddle?”
I groaned, and Cameron’s tinkling laugh followed me as I stood up, crossed the room fully naked, and pulled the paddle he hated—I only brought it out for true punishments—from our toy stash in the closet. Staring at it, I had the deep realization that I would hate it just as much as he did.
My sadistic boy had settled against the headboard in my absence. “Okay, Daddy, over my lap.” He patted his legs to emphasize his words, and dread settled in my stomach. Was I really going to do this?
Cameron’s face got stern, and I bit back a laugh at the sight. It was just so unlike him that I couldn’t help it. “Over. My. Lap.” He jabbed his finger toward his legs with every word, and the significance of what I was about to do suddenly made my mouth extremely dry.
I definitely was not laughing now.
After setting the paddle down near my pillow, I crawled onto the bed and dragged myself over his sheet-covered legs, adjusting myself to lay as comfortably as I could with my ass bare to him. As I did, I felt an undercurrent of humiliation settle into my bones. Was this what he felt like every time I pulled him into my lap?
It was horrible, of course, but then again, it kind of wasn’t. The humiliation woke up my senses, brought every minuscule thing to the forefront of my mind. I saw the smallest of dust bunnies floating in the air through the sunlight streaming through the gauzy white drapes covering Cameron’s window, felt the tiniest of breezes from the floor heater next to his bed across my skin, smelled the barest hint of that delicious sleepy smell Cameron always got when he first woke up.
Everything came into an even sharper focus as Cameron reached for the paddle near my thighs. Though he was moving with slow precision, because every nerve ending was on high alert, I could’ve sworn I felt the air around it moving, dispersing, making room for what was about to light up my ass.
“You remember our safewords, Daddy?”
I nodded. “Yes, boy. Green to keep going, yellow to slow down, red to stop. Let’s just get this over with.”
He simply chuckled as he massaged my cheeks, warming them up.
After a minute or so, I felt him lift the paddle into the air, and I groaned again, unable to help myself. “Oh, god, this is gonna suck.”
Then the first swat landed.
I grunted as it nearly knocked the air out of my lungs. I gasped, trying to recover, but my precious boy didn’t give me enough time to before the next crack landed on the opposite cheek.
“Fuck!”
Cameron kept going, finding a steady rhythm until I could barely catch my breath. I shouted and swore every time the paddle hit; I couldn’t help it. My ass was on fire.
But I knew this wasn’t a punishment or a reward; this was my boy trying to help me clear my head, calm my mind.
So I just laid there and took it.
And, eventually, my mind did start to clear. The searing heat in my ass helped ground me in the moment, connected me to Cameron, my boy, so intimately that I started crying.
Well, the fire searing through my reddened cheeks could’ve caused that, too.
But I felt so close to Cameron in this moment, and though I felt the burning and the humiliation and the sting of my parents’ rejection, those things no longer mattered. This moment, here with Cameron, my sweet boy, was holding me together as the spanking ripped me apart, bared my soul.
Even as the swats lessened, lightened, then faded away completely, I sobbed while I begged him never to leave. My words weren’t making sense, but still I pleaded with him to be present in this moment with me, to keep me as his. To stay with me, to hold me until everything was okay again. To just be here with me. Now. Tomorrow. Always.
