by Daisy March
“All done,” she said, sliding her plate away, groaning slightly at how full she felt.
“Good girl,” he replied, heading off to pay the bill.
Two little words but they made her feel like an obedient puppy, her tail wagging happily to be praised by him. She liked pleasing him. It was an intoxicating feeling.
They rode from the diner to the bar. It was still early so the place was empty. Slater unlocked the door to let them in, disabling the alarm before glancing behind him. “In,” he said. “Get down in the cellar again. Don’t make a sound.”
She glanced past him. “Who’s that?” she asked as two men in suits approached.
“The detectives,” he replied, waving her into the bar.
She ran through to the office, pulling the rug away from the trapdoor. Dashing down, she pulled the hatch closed just in time, hearing muffled voices above her head.
What if they came down for her? Would Slater give away her location? Was this a set up?
She stood in silence at the bottom of the steps, not daring to turn the lights on. She thought about the last time she’d been down here, running for her life, fearing the worst.
She’d picked a knife up off the shelves, planning to stab anyone who came near her in her panic. Lucky for her, Slater could defend himself.
He’d disarmed her, in more ways than one. He’d taken the blade off her and made her think he was all right, that he would take care of her. Could anyone protect her though?
Was that not asking too much? This was nothing to do with him. She’d forced him into this situation and he was once again saving her neck up there.
What if the detectives simply shot him like they’d done with her father? Or stabbed him like Billy? What would she do then?
It felt like hours that she stood in silence, her heart pounding, her heard hurting from the tension. When the trapdoor opened above her head, she shied away from the light, not sure who it was standing up there.
“You can come up,” Slater’s voice said. “They’ve gone.”
“What happened?” she asked as she emerged into the light.
“They’re still looking for you. Just checking over old ground. They look desperate though. If we don’t get this sorted at the club tonight, I reckon they might raid this place, no matter what truce we’ve got in place with the precinct.”
“I should go. It’s only because of me that they’re even coming here. You’d be better off if I went.”
He took her hands in his. He always felt so warm to the touch. She looked up at him as he spoke. “I am your Daddy,” he said. “I protect my Little. No more talk like that, all right?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Good. Now that’s out of the way, me and you need to talk about a suitable punishment.”
“Punishment for what?”
“For dropping your fork in the diner when I explicitly told you not to. For removing your panties and flashing your ass to everyone on the ride over here. Don’t think I haven’t noticed the inner exhibitionist in you coming out.”
“I’m not an exhibitionist.”
“So you just took the panties off to cool your pussy down, is that it?”
Hearing him growl the word, ‘pussy,’ did things to Beth. She felt a shudder down her spine. “Maybe I’m a bit of an exhibitionist,” she admitted. “But you told me it was all right to be myself.”
“It is but it’s also not the time to be drawing too much attention to yourself.”
“Bit late for that, isn’t it?” she asked, tugging at her dress.
“That’s different. I took you to a DDLG friendly diner.”
“Oh, you did?”
“Didn’t you notice the pictures on the walls in there?”
“They were cartoons, weren’t they?”
“Cartoons and drawings done by Littles. I intend to put one of yours up in there, whenever you get it finished.”
“How about now?”
“If you think you can draw your way out a punishment, you’re wrong.”
“Oh.”
“You can draw afterward though.”
She couldn’t help smiling. “Really?”
“I have paper and pencils ready to go once we’re done.”
“Done with what?”
He beckoned her toward him. She took two slow steps, already knowing what was coming.
14
Slater
Slater looked at her as she stood there in front of him. She looked utterly adorable. She would look even more adorable in a minute with her ass bright red.
“Face the wall,” he said. “Hands on your head.”
She did as he ordered immediately, not even bothering to protest. He liked how obedient she was. Even if it was just a game, it was one he could enjoy for a little while longer.
Once this was all over, he had no doubt she’d head for the hills. The only thing keeping her with him was protection.
Once the danger was over, nothing was keeping them together. She wouldn’t want to stay with someone like him. The bad memories would cling to them both. She would associate him with the bad things that had happened to her recently.
He had no doubt she’d be better off having a fresh start somewhere else. He’d give her enough money to travel one way wherever she wanted to go. It was better that way. If she stayed here, he’d only be putting her in more danger. That was the nature of his lifestyle.
He was a motorcycle club president working outside of the law. She was an innocent woman caught up in a world where she didn’t belong, doing her best to survive while the danger was dealt with, by him.
He lifted the hem of her dress, tucking it into her hands. Her back and ass were displayed for his enjoyment. He let his eyes run down her legs.
She was still too skinny but he intended to make sure she ate better, put some weight onto those bony hips of hers, help her cope with the cold of the winter.
At least the heating in the bar was kicking in. “Do not move until I give permission,” he said, heading over to the front door and unlocking it. He walked back over to her.
“My crew will be here soon. They’ll see you looking like this. If I tell you to turn around, they will see every inch of your body.”
“Please,” she said. “Let me put my dress down.”
“I thought you were an exhibitionist. I thought you liked flashing.”
“You, Daddy. I only like flashing you.”
“Good to know. I think you can have another five minutes standing like that while I get the place opened up properly. Let’s see if anyone turns up in that time, shall we?”
He knew full well the place would be empty for another hour but he didn’t let on. It wouldn’t have been a punishment otherwise.
He turned on the jukebox, switching on the register, doing all the morning jobs that got the bar ready for another day.
Every now and then he glanced her way, pleased to see that despite her discomfort, she remained where she was. Her need to obey him was stronger than her embarrassment at the way she looked.
“Good girl,” he said, walking back over to her. “Five minutes are up.”
“Are we done?” she asked and he thought he could hear a flicker of disappointment in her voice.
“Not yet,” he said. “Bend over the pool table.”
She did as he asked, her ass pointing behind her. “When your Daddy tells you not to do something,” he said, raising his hand into the air. “What do you do?”
“I don’t do it.”
He brought his hand down so it landed square on her ass, hitting both buttocks at the same time. She gasped in shock but remained in place.
He spanked her again, raising his hand, letting it fall, over and over until her ass was bright red. He couldn’t resist her any longer. She was intoxicating. She was a drug. She was his version of Cake.
He unzipped his pants, bringing out his rock hard cock, stroking the shaft fast and hard. She remained in place, her reddened ass pointin
g back at him.
“Reach back and spread your ass for me,” he said, still stroking himself. “Show Daddy what belongs to him.”
She did as he asked, pulling her cheeks apart. He looked at her little hidden hole, thinking of the plug going into there in the club, thinking about putting something else in there, something much bigger than the plug.
He grew close to orgasm, his hand moving faster and faster. With a grunt a minute later, he came, hot cum spurting out and landing right on her ass. More drops fell from him, splashing her hands. She didn’t move at all.
He let the last drops fall right on her hole before sliding his cock away. “Stand up,” he said, waiting until she was facing him, her dress still held in her hands. “Good girl,” he said. “Leave that to dry on you. I want you to remember what happens when you disobey me. I want to know my mark is on you. It means I own you, Beth. You are mine.”
She smiled up at him. “Good to know.”
She acted well. He could almost believe she meant it.
He dug out the sketchbooks and pencils, setting her to work in the corner of the bar. She sat drawing, his cum still on her ass.
The day began.
Beth spent most of it drawing. He spent it with his crew. There were problems at the garage he needed to sort which took longer than he expected.
By the time he was done on the phone, it was almost time for them to eat. He had lunch with Beth in the nearby park but not for long. There was too much to do.
He gathered the crew together in the afternoon to plan what to do if he didn’t return.
“I should be back by midnight,” he told them all, glancing past at Beth who was still drawing. He’d never seen her looking so at peace.
All this was for her, he realized in that moment. He was doing this to make her safe more than for himself or for Nancy.
“If I’m not back, details are going to come out about all this and trouble might come with it. You need to be ready to deal with the law and with the Backwoods Boys.
“They’ll come gunning for you and they’ll have some firepower with them. If I don’t make it back, Dooley gets presidency, Mouser, you take Sergeant at Arms. The rest of you back them up like you do me.”
“You’ll be back,” Mouser said. “I’ve no doubt.”
“We’ll see.” He looked at the time. “We’re heading out. Remember, don’t do anything until midnight. If that deadline passes and I’m not here, you guard Mouser with your lives until he’s done what he needs to do, got it?”
They all grunted an understanding. He left them to thrash out the details, heading over to Beth who was folding something up, sliding it into an envelope.
“What’s that?” he asked.
“For Leanne,” she replied. “Have we got time to see her before we go to the club?”
“Of course.” He shouted over to the crew. “Dooley, is Leanne still at your place?”
“Sure is,” he replied. “Probably replacing my couch with some crochet hats as we speak.”
“Don’t knock it. You’ve got someone cleaning in there for the first time since you bought it. We all right to call in?”
“Always welcome, Slater, you know that. Just wipe your feet or she’ll kill you with her bare hands. I put a beer down without a coaster last night and she looked like she might like to strangle me.”
Slater laughed as he took Beth into the office. She changed into the club uniform, the tiny skirt and blouse making him want to forget taking her to the club and just take her instead, right over his desk.
He ignored his lust, leading her outside past the watching crew, climbing onto his motorcycle and taking a detour on the way to The Milk Bar. They got to Dooley’s place quick enough.
Slater knocked on the door, waiting for it to open which it did a few seconds later. An elderly woman was standing there, looking suspiciously out at him.
“Another biker,” she said coldly. “Come to make more mess, no doubt.” She saw Beth standing next to him and melted completely. “Beth,” she said, holding her arms out to her. “I’m so glad you’re safe.”
“Leanne,” Beth said, accepting the hug. Slater left the two of them to talk, watching the street until she emerged a minute later. “We can go now,” Beth told him. “I did what I had to do.”
“Good because we need to get going.”
They rode fast the rest of the way to the club. When they got there, Slater felt a strange sense of foreboding.
Would he come back out alive? He had no idea.
Was this a set up? He had no idea if that was the case either but he wasn’t backing out now. He'd come too far to give up at the last hurdle.
He turned to look at Beth. “We don’t have to do this,” he said. “You can turn and walk away if you want. I won’t judge you for it.”
“I’m not going anywhere without my Daddy,” she replied, slipping her hand into his.
“Look on the bright side,” he said as they walked down the alleyway. “After tonight, you won’t have to play pretend anymore.”
“What do you mean?”
“No more dressing up like this and submitting to me.”
“Oh.” She was silent for a second. “But what if I like it?”
He shook his head. “It’s a dangerous world I live in, Beth. If it isn’t The Milk Bar, it’s something else. I can make you safe but only if you’re not around me.”
“I like being around you. You make me feel safe.”
They had reached the door of the club. Slater put his mask over his face, knocked and the door slid open almost at once. “Expected,” the man said on the far side of the door. “In you go.”
The club looked the same. On stage the dancing girls were performing a pop number, jumping around in sync to the music.
The tables were filled once again. Slater scanned the room quickly. Montague was on his own by the bar. “You ready to distract him?” Slater asked.
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Beth replied. “Just don’t be too long.”
“I’ll be back before you know it. Here,” he said, leaning down, lifting the mask enough to kiss her. “Take care.”
She went as he put his mask back into place, hoping no one had seen his face. It had been a dumb thing to do but he couldn’t let her go without a kiss. It might be the last one they ever shared.
Something about this felt all wrong. His instincts were telling him to get out of there but he couldn’t leave, not without Beth.
He headed for the staff only door, glancing over to see Beth talking to Montague. His view was blocked a second later by the appearance of Cassandra, her blouse only done up by a single button, her chest heaving as she looked up at him.
“Back again,” she said. “I’m honored.”
“And I’m busy.”
“Don’t be like that,” she said, lowering her voice, “Slater.”
He stopped dead. “What did you say?”
“Don’t think I don’t know who you are.”
“How did you-“
“If you’re going to raise your mask in here, you should be more careful. Don’t worry, I’m not going to tell them all the club president of their bitterest rivals is among them like a snake in the grass. What was it Slater? Wanted to check out the competition? Or thinking of joining them?”
“I don’t have to explain myself to you.”
“No, course you don’t. Well, I’ll be in the playroom behind the red door and the staff only door is over there. All you have to decide is which door to go through, mystery man. I hope you make the right choice.”
She walked away, shaking her hips as she went. He looked from her to Beth. Again his instincts told him to get out of there, to just get Beth and go.
No, it was too late for that. He watched Cassandra vanish through the red door. He headed for the door marked Staff Only, walking through it like it was the most natural thing in the world.
There was a corridor in front of him, doors heading left and right. Something told
him to go straight on. He did so, pushing through another door and then a third. Noises were growing as were chemical smells that hurt his head.
He walked along a long corridor, feeling like someone was watching him but when he turned there was no one there. He reached into his jacket pocket, ready to ignite the incendiary.
One more door. The bakery was on the other side. He just knew it.
He pushed opened the door and stepped through. He caught a glimpse of the bakery but then a shutter fell and he was trapped in darkness.
He grabbed the door handle behind him but it was locked. He’d walked right into their trap. The lights above his head flashed on an instant later, blinding him. At the same time he felt a cold gun barrel pressing against the side of his head.
“Don’t move,” a voice said. There was the sound of a button being pressed on a walkie-talkie, a squeal of feedback and then the voice spoke again. “Boss, we got him.”
15
Beth
Beth had no idea what had happened to Slater. She saw him ducking through the door marked Staff Only. She also saw, with a disquieting sense of jealousy, him stop to talk to another Little on the way over there.
Who was she? He’d talked to her last night as well. She made a mental note to ask him about the mystery woman but then discounted it.
She had no right to be jealous. It wasn’t as if they were even in a proper relationship. It was all for the sake of expedience. That was all.
She wished it was real. She wished she could have a life with him after this. What kind of life would that be?
Montague turned back to her with a couple of drinks from the bar, sliding one across to her.
“What’s this?” she asked.
“Milk,” he replied. “Why do you think this place is called The Milk Bar.”
“It’s green.”
“Try it.”
She took a sip. It tasted of mint liqueur. “You like it?” Montague asked.
“It’s so sweet,” she said, taking a gulp.