Protector Daddy

by Roberts, Laylah

  “And what if you’d gotten dizzy and fallen, hmm? You could have hit your head. Lucky you hadn’t already agreed to be my Little girl,” he told her in that low, gravelly voice. “Or you’d find yourself in trouble.”

  “You wouldn’t spank me while I’m sick.” He was far too protective to do that.

  “Don’t have to spank you to punish you.”

  Crap.

  “You ever been spanked?”

  “No,” she whispered.

  “You want to be, though, don’t you?”

  She wasn’t sure she wanted to talk about this. “Nobody wants to be spanked, right?”

  He speared a piece of apple and fed it to her. She figured it was better to eat it than risk saying something stupid.

  “Think you know better than that. How’d you learn about BDSM, about age play?”

  She licked her lips. “Romance books.”

  He nodded. “Any of those subs enjoy being spanked?”

  “Well, yes.” She cleared her throat. “Doesn’t mean I want it.”

  “You’ve never thought about being put over someone’s knee, having your panties lowered and a hand slapped against your bottom? Before you answer, lying would earn you spanking.”

  Well crap.

  He fed her a piece of strawberry. Yum. Okay, the fruit salad wasn’t that bad. Not that she’d tell him so.

  “Need to talk about your hard limits.”

  Oh. She’d never done limits before.

  “You didn’t have a set of limits with that wannabe-Daddy, did you?”

  “Not really,” she whispered. “He said because we were long distance that I didn’t need a safeword or to set limits.”

  “That fucking asshole. Listen to me. Long distance or not, whenever you have a relationship with a Top, you have a safeword and you go through limits. This is an agreement. Got it? You have choices. Always.”

  She nodded, shocked by his vehemence. “Yes, Sir.”

  “Sir is acceptable. Daddy is better. When you’re ready.”

  She bit her lip. She wanted to say it. Could feel the word hovering on her tongue.

  What’s holding you back then?

  “So, if I didn’t want to be spanked?”

  “We’d explore other discipline. But remember, no lying.”

  “Okay,” she whispered. “Maybe I’m a bit curious. But since I’ve never had one, I’m not sure how I’ll react . . .”

  “We try it and see.” He nodded easily, feeding her some more fruit.

  Funny how she hadn’t pegged him as the type to take care of someone else like this.

  Shows how you shouldn’t stereotype, Millie.

  “Any ideas of what your hard limits might be?”

  “I don’t want to do anything that draws blood,” she said quickly. “Nothing in public.”

  “Sure? If you broke a health or safety rule, I’d usually want to deal with it immediately. No one has to see. Could take you into the family bathroom, have you bend over and raise your skirt. Could take you out to the truck and place you over my lap in the back seat.”

  Oh hell. Why was the thought of that turning her on? She’d never imagined she’d be into any sort of voyeurism.

  Maybe it was just the thought of it. The reality probably wouldn’t be as enticing. Perhaps.

  “I . . . I . . .”

  “Too much too soon,” he summed up. “Thought turns you on though, huh?”

  “Oh man.” She covered up her red cheeks as he winked at her.

  He fed her a few more pieces of fruit and she drank some juice. Then he sat back and studied her, hands on his flat abs, elbows on the arms of the chair.

  “Other limits?”

  “Umm, well, I wouldn’t like to be humiliated. To be called names or told that I wasn’t desirable or anything.” She kept her gaze on the covers as she told him that.

  He leaned forward and grasped hold of her chin, raising her face. When she stared up at him, she gasped at the fury in his face. “He did that to you?”

  She bit her lip. “Not just him. My previous boyfriend, Doug, he often made remarks about what I wore or the way I acted. My online Daddy said I was too excitable. A lot of the time I was only to speak to him when he asked me a question.”

  He gaped at her. Yeah, now that she said it out loud, she realized how messed up things had been with that jerk.

  “Those bastards. You’re fucking beautiful. Sexy as fuck. Their fault they didn’t recognize when they had something special in their grasp. That they didn’t take care of you the way they should.”

  “You know, for a man who doesn’t say a lot, you sure have a way with words.”

  He shrugged. “Fuck them. You’re fucking perfect.”

  “Really?” she whispered, his words were like a balm on the ragged edges of her very soul. When had she become so tattered and torn? When had her self-confidence eroded away? She didn’t used to be like this.

  “Wanted to fuck you the moment I saw you.”

  “You were so mean to me! You ignored me. You practically ran away from me.”

  “Still wanted to fuck you.”

  She grumbled at him, but her mouth twitched with a smile. “You really like the way I look?”

  “You don’t know how often I’ve fucking rubbed one off thinking about you these past few days.”

  Her cheeks blazed red even as happiness made her giddy. “Oh.”

  “Oh? That all you got to say?”

  “Umm.” What did he want from her? Perhaps for you to tell him that you think he’s handsome? “You’re gorgeous too.”

  A knowing look entered his eyes. “Were you thinking about me when you used that dinosaur vibe in the bath? Did you imagine it was my tongue against your clit? My cock slipping inside your slick passage?”

  She placed her hands on her hot cheeks. “I thought we agreed not to talk about that!”

  “Well?”

  “This is so embarrassing. Yes, all right? I was thinking about you while I used the vibrator on myself.”

  This smug look entered his face. “Gonna watch you next time.”

  Gonna watch her what? Use her vibrator? “I don’t think so!”

  He tilted his head to the side. “Why not?”

  “B-because you c-can’t watch!”

  “Minute you agreed to be my Little, you just gave me all your orgasms.”

  “What does that mean?” It was like she’d gone to sleep in one world and woken up in a completely different one.

  “Means you don’t get an orgasm unless I give my permission. So no using that vibe without me watching you.”

  He didn’t mean it. He couldn’t mean it. But as she stared into his firm face, she saw he did.

  “Well, shit.”

  “Need to talk about your other rules.”

  She wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

  “No putting yourself down. No lying. Communication is important. There’s something you don’t want, that scares you, if you’re hurt, then you need to tell me or say your safeword. What do you want your safeword to be?”

  “Um, how about sausage?”

  His eyes widened. “Sausage?”

  “Yeah, is that a bad safeword?”

  “It’s just, uh, why sausage?”

  For the first time since meeting him, which admittedly, wasn’t that long ago, he seemed almost flummoxed.

  “Well, Mr. Fluffy is currently chewing on one of his sausage toys so I thought . . . “ she trailed off as something occurred to her. “Oh no, I didn’t mean your sausage, I wasn’t thinking of that when I said it. I mean, I don’t think of your . . . your . . . you know, anytime you want to stop me from talking right now that would be awesome – eek!” she cried out as he reached over and plucked her from the bed, placing her on his lap. “Guess that works. Maybe I need a new safeword, I’m not sure that one will …umm.”

  This time he stopped her by placing his mouth against hers. She froze. It felt so nice. His lips were warm. Firm but gentle.
>
  Thank goodness she’d brushed her teeth when she’d gotten up to pee earlier. Wouldn’t pay . . . to . . . umm . . .okay bye-bye thoughts.

  His tongue slid into her mouth, dancing against hers. She wrapped her hands around his biceps as he ravaged her mouth. Something firm and definitely not at all sausage-like pressed against her hip. At least, it wasn’t like any sausage she’d ever eaten.

  Oh hell. Now she was thinking about eating him.

  He grasped hold of her chin, pulling it down so her mouth opened further. Then there was nothing but him. His taste. His touch. His smell.

  More. She wanted more. She wiggled on his lap, trying to get closer, letting out a pained cry when he drew back from her.

  “Easy, baby.”

  “Noo,” she cried, reaching up to place her hand around the back of his neck.

  “Got to slow down.”

  “Why?” she wailed.

  “Because if we go any further then I’m going to end up fucking you right now.”

  “And that would be bad because . . .”

  “You’re still recovering from a migraine. You’re pale. You need food, drink and rest. Also want to know that you’re really sure. Once you’re in my bed, you’re not leaving for a long while.”

  Until this supposed threat to her was gone and he kicked her out, he meant.

  Shoot. No point in thinking about that now.

  “I know what I want,” she told him.

  “Good. So do I. That doesn’t mean you’re not resting today.”

  She pouted as he placed her back on the bed. He tapped her lower lip. “What have I told you about that?”

  She huffed out a breath. “If you kissed me, I wouldn’t pout.”

  “Ultimatums don’t work on me either,” he warned. “Maybe I need to make no pouting a rule.”

  “I don’t think so,” she said hastily.

  He eyed her for a moment. “What triggers the migraines?”

  “What?”

  “If I’m to look after you properly, I need to know what triggers them.”

  Spike studied her closely. Her hair needed a good brush and her lips were slightly swollen. She was wearing that dinosaur onesie.

  She looked fucking adorable.

  Shit. He was in trouble here.

  “What sets them off?”

  “Oh, I think yesterday it might have been a combination of things, some scents do it. The smoke and the stress probably set me off yesterday.”

  “What else? Diet? Sleep?”

  “Hmm. If I don’t get enough sleep that can be an issue.”

  “Diet?” he prompted again.

  She sighed. “Meat is an issue which is part of the reason I went vegetarian, but mostly it was because I love animals so much.”

  “Skipping meals an issue?”

  She winced. “Um, yep. You know, I’ve managed these migraines for a long time. I don’t think we need to go into any great detail about them.”

  “How many you had in the last two months?”

  “Around five or six.”

  That many? Hell. Poor baby.

  “Seems like a lot to me.”

  “I’ve had a lot of stress on me lately. And when I’m stressed, I find it hard to sleep. It’s a bad pattern.”

  “Other triggers?”

  “Strong smells and alcohol. Caffeine is good for them, though.” She gave him an innocent look.

  Uh-huh, like he was buying that.

  “If you drink enough water to remain hydrated.”

  “I hate water. Yuck.”

  Okay, it seemed like her Little side was close to the surface today. Probably because she was tired. And out of sorts.

  “It usual for you to be tired and grumpy after one?”

  “Yes. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to act like a grouchy two-year-old.”

  “Anything else?”

  She blushed and her gaze went to her hands. A sure sign there was something else she just didn’t want to say what it was.

  “Millie,” he warned.

  “My cycle, I guess. It can be hormonal.”

  “Got it,” he said briskly. He wanted to tell her that she could talk to him about anything, including her periods. But he could tell this wasn’t a subject she wanted to delve into. Once she was more comfortable with him, he could discuss them with her.

  Oh yeah? And how long do you think she’s going to be around for?

  “When you get a migraine, what helps?”

  “I usually try to lie down in the dark and quiet.”

  “Nothing else? Cold packs? Hot packs? Massage?”

  “I’m not sure, I’m usually too ill to get any of that and I can’t massage myself.”

  What the fuck? Was she fucking kidding him right now? He could tell by the lost, lonely look on her face that she wasn’t.

  “Hasn’t anyone taken care of you during one of these?”

  “Uh, no. My grandma used to help me lie down and stuff. But she just thought they were a bad headache. And Doug would just stay away until I felt better.”

  “Mother-fucking bastard,” he muttered to himself. “Mind if we try a few things next time?” He thought about the ideas he’d read about.

  “No, not at all.”

  “Got some more rules.”

  “Oh, awesome,” she said quietly.

  “What was that?”

  “Nothing.” She smiled brightly.

  Brat.

  “You feel a migraine coming on, tell me immediately.”

  “Okay.”

  “You start getting stressed, you tell me.”

  She nodded, chewing at her lip worriedly.

  “Words,” he prompted.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Gonna need a bedtime too.”

  “A bedtime?” she squeaked. “I don’t think that’s really necessary.”

  “Nine for your Little. Ten the rest of the time.”

  “You . . . you what? I never go to sleep before one in the morning.” She stared at him with big, pleading eyes. “That’s so early.”

  “You need a better routine. And more sleep.”

  “Darn it.”

  “Any idea how old your Little is?”

  She chewed at her lip. “Well, not that young. Maybe around four.”

  “Four-year-olds still nap sometimes. And you’re going to start taking naps when you’re in Little space.”

  She gaped at him. “Naps?”

  “Uh-huh. Naps.”

  “I don’t need to take naps.”

  “You said you haven’t been sleeping well. That could be a trigger for your migraines.”

  “But I must have slept around fourteen hours last night. I’m all caught up.”

  Yeah, right.

  “I really don’t think this is necessary. If I nap in the day, how will I get to sleep at night?”

  “Go for a week without a migraine and you can skip the naps.”

  “Well, hell.”

  “Wanna change your mind?”

  She shook her head but she looked a bit uncertain.

  “So far all we’ve talked about are rules and consequences. Let’s talk about the fun stuff.”

  Ooh. Fun stuff? “Fun stuff? Like sex?”

  “While that is definitely fun, I was talking about what you like to do when you’re Little.”

  “Oh.” Dork. “Do?”

  “Play with.”

  “Play with?” she asked.

  “You gonna just repeat all of my questions?”

  Shoot.

  “What toys do you like playing with?” he asked.

  “Toys?”

  He sent her a look.

  “Sorry,” she whispered. “I guess I’ve never played much. I don’t have toys for my Little. Well, other than Chompers.”

  “What did you do while in Little space with that wannabe-Daddy? Didn’t you play? Maybe color him a picture?”

  “He didn’t want me to do any of that. Mostly he would call and talk about his day. Then he’d
like me to tell him what I did wrong that day, and he’d lecture me on how I could improve. Sometimes give me a punishment. And then he’d, uh, get himself off while I was on the phone.”

  She was so embarrassed right now. She wished she could tell what he was thinking but he was so hard to read.

  “That so? And you? Did you get to come?”

  “No.”

  “You’d wait until later and use your vibrator?”

  She shrugged. “Yeah.”

  “Selfish prick. Baby girl, sounds to me like you found a fucking idiot for a Daddy. Selfish and a dickshit.”

  “I’m beginning to realize that. Do you mean that I . . . that you’d be okay with me playing while in Little space?”

  He stood and walked towards the door. She stared at him. Was it something she’d said?

  “Stay.”

  He disappeared and she sat there.

  When he walked back into the bedroom, he was carrying a tablet in his hand.

  “Scoot over,” he told her. Then sat next to her so she could see the tablet screen.

  Which was showing a website . . . selling toys.

  “Choose what you want. Add it to the cart and we’ll get it.”

  He really wanted to buy her some toys?

  “I can’t.”

  “Don’t know what to choose? What do you think you’d like? Legos? Coloring pens and shit? Soft toys? You like dinosaurs, huh?”

  Oh hell. She was going to cry. She could feel herself welling up. And she hated crying. The other night had been the first time she’d cried in months.

  “I, uh, yeah. But I can’t let you get me things. Not when we …” Are just a temporary thing.

  She didn’t want to say that. She didn’t want to make the words real.

  “You need shit to play with. Got nothing here. You like music?”

  “Yes,” she said immediately.

  He glanced over at her and she blushed. “I like to sing. And dance. I’m no good at it, though.”

  “Hmm.” She noticed him adding a keyboard and a kid’s karaoke machine to the cart.

  “Really, I don’t need all this.”

  “I say you do. And last time I checked; I was in charge.”

  She sighed. “So it’s your way or the highway?”

  “No, it’s my way or the corner.”

  “What?”

  “Keep arguing with me and you’ll find yourself in time-out.”

  “I don’t think that’s at all fair.”

  “Noted.”