Daddy Issues

by Ava Sinclair

  Tonight was no different. She’d missed another appointment with Dr. Gruber that morning, and now as William asked how her session had gone, she stood to clear the dishes from the table.

  “Fine,” she said. “Would you like dessert?”

  “I’d prefer something sweeter,” he said. “Honesty.”

  Ellie had been placing the dishes in the sink and froze now.

  “I know you’ve been skipping your appointments with Dr. Gruber.”

  She turned to him. “You’ve been checking up on me?”

  “Not intentionally,” he said. “But I was at the park twice on my lunch break recently and caught glimpses of a lovely redhead feeding the ducks or sitting on the bench. I’m really quite surprised she didn’t see me, but she was so lost in thought.” He paused. “Ellie, look at me.”

  There was the clink of glass against stainless steel as Ellie put the plates down. When she turned back, there were tears in her eyes.

  “I didn’t mean to lie,” she said.

  “I disagree,” he said. “It seems to me that you went out of your way to lie, at least by omission. You’ve used the money I left for cab fare, but didn’t go where you were supposed to go. And when I asked you about the sessions, you always indicated they went well.”

  Ellie’s face flushed from shame. “If you knew, why didn’t you say something sooner?”

  William stood, wiping his mouth on his napkin before tossing it aside. “Maybe because I wanted to see if your conscience would eventually compel you to do the right thing.” He paused. “Or logic. You haven’t forgotten that there are consequences for breaking the rules, have you?”

  No, she’d not forgotten. But Ellie had fallen into such an easy routine of work and companionable living with the man who’d established himself as her patron that the spanking she’d received the first day seemed almost a surreal memory.

  “Go to the study,” he said.

  “What for?” Ellie asked, even though she knew. Even though she knew, she needed to hear him say it, to be reminded of the reality of her situation, of what it meant to be living with a true, unwavering father figure.

  “For your punishment, Ellie. You broke two rules—you did not keep to the scheduled appointment and you lied to me. You will go to the study, lift your skirts, bend over my desk, and wait for me.”

  Ellie’s feet felt rooted to the floor as she stared at him dumbly.

  “Go, or your punishment will be doubled.”

  She went, her heart pounding in her chest as she clenched her sweaty palms tight. But even as she walked slowly to the study, she could feel herself becoming wet with expectation that seemed so inconsistent with the mounting fear she felt as she took each step.

  It somehow seemed harder complying with Dr. Ashworth’s order before he came into the room. Leaning over and hiking her skirt up seemed lascivious, and as Ellie bent over, she realized to her horror that the crotch of her panties was soaked, and the only way to hide her shame was to squeeze her legs tightly together.

  He did not speak when he walked in, and his silence only unnerved Ellie more. Was he staring at her? She imagined his gaze trained on her bottom. She squeezed her thighs together even more tightly.

  “Ellie, look at me.”

  She turned her head slowly and tried not to gasp at what she saw. He was holding a cane. Ellie had been steeling herself for the broad, burning swat of his hand. But this was something different, another unknown. What he said next only increased her anxiety.

  “Lower your panties, Ellie.”

  She stared at him from over her shoulder. “M-my panties?” The words were barely audible. “Oh, please… no.”

  “Your offenses were serious,” he said. When she shook her head, he remained unmoved. “Do you not trust me?”

  “I just don’t want to take my panties down,” she said.

  “You have no choice,” he said. “You agreed to submit, Ellie. To refuse is to break that agreement.”

  To what end? Would she have to leave? Ellie moved her hands back, hooking her fingers in the waistband of the undergarment, which she worked down over her hips and swell of her bottom until it rested at mid-thigh. Her face was burning scarlet; there was no way he could have missed seeing the wetness on her panties. She moaned in shame, but he ignored this.

  “There will be six,” he said. “One for each session you missed, and two for lying.”

  She felt a flood of relief. Six. She’d expected more. William was standing to the side, tap, tap, tapping the cane against the crest of her bare bottom. From the corner of her eye, Ellie could see his arm move back, could see the flick of his wrist bring the cane forward in a snappy motion.

  She screamed.

  The pain was concentrated into one blinding streak that seemed to burrow into the soft, exposed skin. Ellie stood up, cupping her bottom protectively and whirling on her guardian, her face a mask of pained betrayal.

  But he was perfectly calm as he tapped the desk with the cane. “Back over, Ellie,” he said.

  “No!” She rubbed the welt now puffing into a ridge on her skin. “It hurts!”

  “It’s supposed to. Now bend back over the desk. Any longer and that one won’t count.”

  She held her ground, facing him. The anger that she felt was new.

  “You’re mean!” she cried. “You hurt me!”

  “Yes,” he said. “I hurt you. But I’ll happily risk your ire if it means giving you the kind of life you deserve. And I can’t do that unless you are honest with me.”

  Tears were coursing down Ellie’s cheeks as she slowly turned and leaned back across the desk. It took all her effort to present her bottom to him for correction, but his words had struck her as surely as the cane had. She deserved this and what’s more, she realized his resolve was somehow comforting, even now.

  If she’d expected the subsequent blows to be lighter, she quickly found herself mistaken. The blows fell at a rate of one every five to ten seconds, each one landing an inch or so below the first so that Ellie’s bottom was marked from the swell of her buttocks down to the crease between buttock and thigh, their location guaranteeing she’d not sit comfortably for hours.

  “Now,” William said when he finally tossed the cane aside and reached for her. Ellie was sobbing openly, past caring how infantile she looked, or how much of herself she’d displayed as she’d gyrated her bottom during the punishment. “Would you like to tell me why you’ve been ditching Dr. Gruber’s sessions?”

  He held up a handkerchief and mopped Ellie’s face before holding it so she could blow her nose. Then he tipped her chin up until she was looking at him.

  “Ellie, I’m waiting.”

  She took a ragged breath before answering. “I didn’t want him to ruin everything,” she said.

  “Dr. Gruber? How would he ruin things?”

  “He asks me how my life is going, what I’m doing. If I tell him about us, about our arrangement…” Her voice trailed off.

  “You think he’d tell you we were doing something wrong.”

  She nodded.

  “You’ve got it backwards,” he said softly. “You only think that because you feel like we’re doing something wrong.”

  “No,” She rushed to deny the truth of what he was saying, but he wouldn’t allow it.

  “Yes.” His tone was firm, but gentle. “The only way he could ruin it is by reinforcing whatever it is you’re afraid to admit. So tell me, Ellie.” He paused. “Tell me what’s bothering you.”

  “If I tell you, you’ll send me away.”

  “You’re wrong.”

  “I don’t want to complicate things for you.”

  “You won’t.”

  She dropped her gaze, unable to meet his. “You’re right. I’ve not been honest with you. My reactions to you—to this—to being treated like a little girl. I’m afraid if I tell Dr. Gruber, he’ll tell me it’s unhealthy.”

  “Does it excite you, Ellie?”

  She closed her eyes and
looked away.

  “Don’t be ashamed,” he said. “I sensed it in you when we met, the need for what I’m giving you. But understand that the need in you to submit is matched by the need in me to receive that submission. We are two sides of the same coin, Ellie, and if you would just talk to Dr. Gruber, I believe he would tell you there is nothing wrong with your needs, or mine.”

  Ellie took a moment to process what he was saying. “You… I mean… it turns you on?”

  “It’s deeper than that,” he said. “I’m aroused by your submission, not by the act of hurting you. I’m not a sadist. I’m a dominant. Your willful acceptance of my authority is just one of the things I find attractive about you.”

  Ellie felt her heart quicken. “You find me attractive?”

  “Very much,” he said.

  She caught her lower lip in her teeth and furrowed her brow. “But I’m living here as… your child. You don’t think that’s weird?”

  “No.” He smoothed her hair away from her face. “Because while you agree to live as a child, you are not a child. I realize that you are an adult, but an adult who has placed herself under my control to an extreme but wonderful degree. Ours is not the only relationship like this in the world, Ellie. We are far from alone.”

  “Do you want to have sex with me?” The frank question was out before she could stop it, and she covered her mouth, her eyes wide in embarrassment. But William only smiled.

  “Not after punishing you. Regardless of perceptions, my correcting you is not a sexual act. It is an act of paternalistic affection, something for your own good.” He put his hand to her face then, his large warm palm against her cheek. “But do I want to explore the body of this beautiful woman who shares my house—this lovely, alluring creature who has so sweetly given me the gift of her submission? Absolutely.” He leaned over and pressed his lips to her forehead. “But not yet,” he said against her skin. “Not until you are comfortable with what we have. Not until you get that outside opinion you’ve been avoiding. I may be the authority in this house, but I will not touch you in that way until I have your consent. And you must be comfortable with yourself before you can give yourself to me. Do you understand?”

  She did, and at that moment Ellie realized that she was falling in love with William Ashworth. He could have easily taken advantage of her, but he wanted her to grow into the role he’d so lovingly crafted. He was raising her, she realized. This was what having a father felt like—a guiding, caring presence who shaped and shepherded and coddled and corrected. She could have that wonderful relationship as long as she wanted, but also something more, something adult.

  “I’ll call Dr. Gruber tomorrow,” she said.

  “That’s my girl,” he replied.

  Chapter Ten

  Ellie found comfort in William’s sound judgment. He was right, of course. Even though he was bringing her the paternal security and guidance she’d craved all her life, she still felt unworthy of the happiness and had convinced herself that the unusual nature of her relationship with William—and her attraction to his strength and dominance—was somehow aberrant and wrong.

  Her bottom was still sore when she called the following morning to make an appointment to resume her therapy. Dr. Gruber’s secretary was pleased to hear Ellie’s voice and offered to work her in for an appointment that afternoon. Ellie said that would be fine and picked her outfit for the day—a plaid dress with a white Peter Pan collar and a hem that fell just above her knee. She paired it with blue Mary Jane shoes and a jaunty beret fitted over hair she styled into ponytails.

  “You look adorable.” William put down the paper he was reading at the table where he was enjoying brunch when she came into the breakfast nook.

  “Thanks,” she said, taking a seat across from him and reaching for a bagel. She looked up at him shyly. “Thanks for everything.”

  William laid down the paper. “You don’t need to thank me, Ellie. You may not realize this, but ours is a symbiotic relationship. You’re not the only one feeling healed.”

  “How so?” she asked.

  He pushed the paper aside and clasped his hands in front of him.

  “Ellie,” he began, but at that moment his cell phone dinged and he sighed as he looked at the screen.

  “I’m afraid I have to leave earlier than planned,” he said. “It seems that the Dean Carver wants to meet with me before class. Remember, I have afternoon and night classes so I won’t be home until later.” He stood from the table. “Do text me, Ellie, so I’ll know you’ve arrived safely back home.” William leaned down and dropped a kiss to the top of her beret. Ellie felt a flush of warmth rush through her body and smiled.

  “I promise,” she said.

  * * *

  Two hours later Ellie was sitting in Dr. Gruber’s office waiting for her work-in appointment. She pulled out the headphones she’d been wearing when she met him, attached them to the battered iPod, and was about to put the buds in her ears when she felt a gentle touch to her arm.

  “Excuse me.” Ellie’s first impression was that the woman next to her looked like a model from a perfume ad, very polished and pretty. “I just wanted to say that your outfit is so adorable. You don’t see many girls your age dress quite like this anymore, so charmingly old-fashioned.”

  Ellie looked down at her plaid dress. “Thanks,” she said shyly, flattered by such a compliment coming from such an elegant woman. “I didn’t pick it out, though.”

  “Well,” the woman said. “If the gentleman in your life did, he’s a man of classic taste.”

  “He did,” Ellie said. “And he is.” She smiled.

  “Husband, fiancé? Although you do look too young to have either.”

  “Oh,” Ellie said. “We’re not married. I just work for him.”

  The woman arched an elegant eyebrow. “Wow. I wish I had a boss like that.”

  “Oh, well, he’s kind of more than a boss. I live with him, too…” She paused suddenly, feeling uneasy about trying to explain her unconventional living arrangement to a total stranger. “It’s complicated,” she said.

  “Well, dear, the best relationships always are,” the woman replied. “I was dating a guy until just recently—one of those intellectual types. We were mad about each other—are mad about each other, actually—but just between you and me, I think I was too strong a woman for him. He has a thing for… well…” She lowered her voice. “To put it bluntly, he has a thing for weak women, women he can manipulate and mold. From time to time we break up and he kind of ‘adopts’ one.” The woman made air quotes with her manicured fingers and rolled her eyes. “It’s great fun for the girl; she gets spoiled silly. But then she gets tossed aside and he comes back to me.”

  “Did… did you say he’s an intellectual type?” Ellie felt her palms go clammy.

  The woman leaned in conspiratorially. “I probably shouldn’t be telling you this, but he’s a professor. That’s what bothers me so much. I suspect he’s using his job to groom young girls who may not know any better.”

  “A professor… What’s his name?”

  But here the woman demurred, a sad expression on her face. “I’d rather not say,” she said. “It hardly makes sense for me to damage his reputation; we always seem to find our way back together, but isn’t that the way it is with professionals? We can’t tolerate being mismatched with an uneducated person for very long.”

  “Do… do you work at the college?” Ellie asked.

  “Hilliard?” The woman arched an elegant brow. “I used to. But not anymore. He had me quit so we could see each other without there being a conflict. He’s very persuasive. Some might even call him dominant…”

  “Dr. Kidd?” The receptionist had opened the sliding window and was now addressing the woman Ellie had been speaking to. “You wanted to see Dr. Gruber?”

  “I just wanted to tell him hello and return these journals I borrowed.” She stood and walked to the door by the receptionist’s window. “I won’t be long.” She t
urned back to Ellie. “It was nice talking to you. And I meant what I said: that is an adorable dress.”

  Ellie watched as the woman disappeared inside. She suddenly felt self-conscious about the clothes that obviously made her stick out like a sore thumb, but even more about the complacency that had her don them earlier in the day with such casual ease.

  When the receptionist called to her a few moments later, Ellie jumped at the sound of her name. She felt suddenly conflicted; she’d promised William she’d keep her appointment, but now the elegant woman was walking out, and the sight of her filled Ellie with doubt.

  She’s probably talking about someone else, her hopeful side silently reasoned. But even as she rose to make her way back to Dr. Gruber’s office, her instincts told her that William was the man she’d been referencing.

  The kindly psychiatrist was pleased to see her, and ushered her toward the overstuffed chintz chair Ellie favored over the leather chaise sitting underneath a lush spider plant by the window.

  “Spearmint, right?” Dr. Gruber was smiling his kindly grandfatherly smile as he extended a hand holding a pack of Wrigley’s gum. Ellie returned the smile, remembering how he’d offered her gum the first time she’d sat in his office, the long sleeves of her sweater pulled low over her bandaged wrists.

  “So how have you been, Ellie?” Dr. Gruber had taken a seat in the chair across from her and tucked the gum back into his pocket as he crossed his legs. Ellie sat watching, noting how the pant of his crossed leg hiked up slightly to reveal his argyle sock.

  “I’m…” She’d started to say she was fine, but then remembered that she was in a setting where she didn’t have to pretend. “I’m confused,” she said, exhaling a spearmint-scented breath.

  “Why don’t you tell me about it?”

  She didn’t answer right away. She’d come to his office with the hope of discussing her relationship with William, possibly getting some professional reassurance that her attraction to his dominance wasn’t unhealthy or wrong.