Page 7 of Daddy Enforcer
“Billie, open this door,” Max demands, his voice firm, not yelling but commanding, like he expects me to obey without question. My heart lurches, and that fluttery feeling in my stomach is back, stronger now, spreading heat through my chest.
“Go away!” I shout, pressing my back harder against the door, like I can block him out. “I need a minute, okay? Just leave me alone!”
My voice sounds petulant, and I hate it. I’m not a child, but he’s making me feel like one, and the worst part is, some tiny, stupid part of melikesit.
“Billie, I’m not playing games.” Max’s voice is closer now, right on the other side of the door, and I can picture him standing there, all broad shoulders and clenched jaw. “You don’t get to run and hide every time you don’t like what I say. Open the door.Now.”
My hands tremble as I grip the edge of the sink, staring at my reflection.
My body’s reacting in ways I don’t get—my pulse is racing, my skin’s tingling, and there’s this weird, warm feeling low in my belly.
It’s like when I used to hang out with Zane after rehearsals and he’d talk about being a Little, how his Daddy made him feel safe and cared for.
I’d laughed it off back then, but now?
Now I’m wondering if this is what he meant, this mix of defiance and… something else. Something that makes me want to open the door and see what Max does next, even as I want to scream at him to back off.
“I said I need a minute!” I yell, but it’s weaker now, more desperate. I slide down to the floor, hugging my knees.
My head’s a mess, replaying his words.
Spoiled brat. Treat you like one.
Why does that make my heart race? Why do I feel like I’m spinning out of control but also… safe? Like he’s a wall I can push against, and he won’t budge.
“Billie,” Max’s voice softens, but it’s still got that edge, like he’s holding back a storm. “You can’t stay in there forever. We need to talk about how this is going to work. You’re here for a reason, and I’m not letting you put yourself at risk because you’re throwing a tantrum.”
Tantrum. There’s that word again, and it hits me like a spark. I want to argue, to tell him I’m not throwing anything, but my throat’s tight, and my body’s betraying me with these stupid butterflies.
I think about the drive up, how his rare smile made my chest feel warm, how his eyes met mine in the rearview mirror like he saw more than just a pop star. And now he’s banging on the door, demanding I let him in, and I’m torn between wanting to fight him and wanting to… what? Let him take over? That’s not me. That’s not Billie B.
“I’m not a kid,” I mutter, more to myself than to him, but I know he hears it.
The banging stops, and there’s a long pause, so quiet I can hear my own heartbeat. I hold my breath, waiting, wondering if he’s going to break the door down like some action-movie hero. Part of me wants him to, just to see what happens.
“Five minutes,” Max says finally, his voice calm but firm. “Then you’re coming out, and we’re setting some ground rules. No more running, Billie. You hear me? I’m starting my stopwatch now.”
I don’t answer, just hug my knees tighter.
My head’s spinning, and my body’s all funny inside, like I’m standing on the edge of a stage before a big performance, nervous but alive.
My special place is tingling too and before I know what I’m doing, my hands are sliding inside my jeans, popping open my buttons and working over the front of my briefs, squeezing and pulsing over the shape of my rapidly hardening cock.
“Oh… shit,” I gasp, my now fully erect dick ready to go off from the very first touch as my fingers swirl inside my briefs and my eyes shut only to be met with the sight of Max towering over me, his strong body and stern commands taking over and sending my entire body wild with arousal.
I stifle a moan of pure pleasure as I keep one hand working my cock and the other runs up inside my shirt, pulling and tweaking on my nipples in the way that I do when I really want to feel something during my naughtiest, wildest times alone in bed…
“Oh shit, shit, shit, shit,” I splutter, my legs trembling as I squeeze my nipples harder, one after the other and continue to keep myself right on the cusp of orgasm as I pump and play with my throbbing cock.
I know I can’t hold on for much longer.
And the truth is I don’t want to keep this orgasm at bay either.
I need to cum, and I need it to happen right now…
“Mmmmmph,” I moan, stuffing one hand in my mouth and biting down in order to keep the noise to a minimum as my lower half convulses and trembles in the most explosive and all-consuming climaxes I can remember as hot, thick cum shoots up and onto my lower stomach and all over my hand.
I don’t know how close I am to Max’s five minute timer running out, but the very thought of him bursting into the room and seeing my like this only serves to extend my orgasm and make my cheeks flush deep red in the purest carnal pleasure imaginable.
