Daddy’s Firm Hand

3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

T he next morning, I didn’t waste any time. I didn’t even send a message.

As soon as I got into work, I walked straight to David’s office and knocked three times.

Eyes were on me, but I didn’t care.

I knew that people would be gossiping about me.

Janet, my neighbor, had quizzed me about my relationship with David. I’d said nothing was going on and that we were just talking about my performance. She’d dropped it, but I knew Janet, and it was more than likely that she was chatting to other workers about it behind my back.

I put it out of my mind as I waited for David to respond. It didn’t take long.

“Come in," his deep voice beckoned from within.

I pushed open the heavy wooden door and stepped inside. The office looked different than I remembered - warmer somehow, more inviting. Soft light filtered through the partially drawn blinds, casting an intimate glow. A vase of fresh flowers adorned the coffee table, their delicate scent perfuming the air.

David rose from behind his desk, a genuine smile gracing his chiseled features as his eyes met mine. "Candy, I’m so glad you’re here. I made a couple of changes this morning, so that you might be a little more comfortable in here. In case you decided to come by." He gestured to a cozy seating area, indicating plush armchairs arranged around a funky table.

I nodded, not quite trusting my voice, and followed him over. As I sank down into the buttery leather, I couldn't help but notice how the seat seemed to envelop me like a comforting hug. David took the chair across from me, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.

“So?” he asked. “Did you do any research last night?”

I nodded. “I did. It was interesting.”

“I remember the first time I looked into age play,” he said, steepling his long, strong fingers. “It felt like I was coming home.”

I felt a flush of happiness in my chest. “That’s kinda how it was for me. I had no idea that this whole scene existed. To see so many people so happy was really nice.”

“I’m glad.”

“I think . . . I want to explore this stuff with you. Unless you’ve changed my mind.”

“I don’t really change my mind. Not my style.” His smile was infectious.

“I figured as much.”

“I’m that transparent?”

“No. Not at all. You’re just a super-confident, successful man. I get the impression that you probably think things through a lot, then commit.”

“You’re very right. Now, Candy, I want you to know how much I appreciate your openness to exploring this with me. I will do everything in my power to win your trust, little one."

Little one.

Hearing him call me that set a couple dozen butterflies loose in my tummy. I looked up into his piercing blue eyes, seeing the sincerity shining back at me, along with something else—a protective fierceness that both thrilled and unnerved me.

David reached beside his chair and retrieved a neatly organized binder, placing it gently in my hands. The cover bore my name in an elegant script.

"I’ve taken the liberty of preparing a contract for us.”

“A contract? Is this like a new job I’m taking?”

“No, nothing like that. A contract is a traditional way to protect both parties in a power-exchange relationship. It outlines the parameters of our proposed dynamic, so we both know what our rights and responsibilities are" he explained, tapping the binder. "It’s not legally binding, of course, but it’s a strong foundation for a healthy caregiver/little relationship. It's important that you read it thoroughly. Please, ask any questions that come to mind—we can go through it together."

I ran my fingers over the smooth cover, then carefully opened it, the pages crisp and weighty. As I began to read, I quickly came across unfamiliar terms like "Little Space," "age regression," and "safe words." The legalistic language contrasted jarringly with the intimate nature of the content. I could feel my brow furrowing as I tried to parse the meanings.

Glancing up, I found David watching me closely, his intense gaze missing nothing. "There are . . . aspects I don't fully understand," I admitted haltingly, my cheeks heating.

"This is new territory for you. It's natural to have questions."

I drew in a fortifying breath, trying to organize my racing thoughts. "This part about 'Little Space'..." I tapped the page. "Can you elaborate on what that means, in practical terms?"

David nodded. "Little Space refers to a mindset where you allow yourself to embrace your inner child. It's a time to set aside adult worries and responsibilities, and simply exist in a more carefree, innocent headspace."

I nibbled my bottom lip as I mulled this over. The idea held an undeniable appeal - to just let go and not have to be in control all the time. But it also made me very nervous.

What if I did it all wrong?

"And you would be in charge during those times?" I asked tentatively. "Deciding things for me?"

"Only to the extent that you feel comfortable with," he clarified. "We'll have clear boundaries and the final say always rests with you. Little Space should feel freeing, not restrictive."

I pondered this as I continued scanning the document, trying to envision myself in the scenarios outlined on the crisp pages. The girl described there seemed like a stranger - innocent, vulnerable, wholly trusting. So different from the wary, anxious woman I knew myself to be.

Could I really become her? Did I even want to? The questions swirled thick and fast as I flipped the pages with trembling fingers. With each new clause and stipulation, I felt I was standing on a precipice, the abyss of the unknown yawning before me.

My brow furrowed as I came to a section labeled "Discipline and Correction." The words leapt out at me, stark and uncompromising against the white backdrop. I swallowed hard, my mouth suddenly dry as I scanned the extensive list of potential punishments.

"I... I'm not sure about some of these," I admitted, my voice scarcely above a whisper. "Spanking, corner time, writing lines . . . It all seems so . . ."

"Intense?" David supplied gently. I nodded, feeling a flush creep up my neck.

"It's important we discuss this thoroughly," he said, his tone reassuring. "I want you to feel safe, not overwhelmed. Let's go through the list together and you can tell me what you're comfortable with."

I took a shaky breath, grateful for his patience. "Well, I think spanking could be okay, but only with your hand. And maybe not too hard, at least at first . . ." My cheeks burned at the admission, but David merely nodded, making a notation in the margin.

We worked our way down the list, navigating the unfamiliar terrain of paddles, restraints, and "funishments." Some items made me squirm with discomfort, while others sent a unexpected thrill down my spine. Through it all, David remained a calm and reassuring presence, never pushing, only guiding.

"Now, what about your hard limits?" he asked, pen poised. "Activities or punishments that are completely off the table, no exceptions."

I bit my lip, considering. "Anything that would leave permanent marks," I said decisively. "Or draw blood. And I don't think I could handle public humiliation or degradation either . . . especially because this is my workplace."

David nodded solemnly, jotting down my boundaries. "Of course. Those will be strictly respected, you have my word."

He set down his pen and looked at me earnestly. "Candy, I want you to know that this dynamic is meant to nurture and fulfil you, not make you do anything you're truly uncomfortable with. We can take things as slowly as you need."

Relief washed over me at his words, loosening the knot of anxiety in my chest.

Leaning forward intently, David captured my gaze with his penetrating blue eyes. "If at any point you wish to pause, it's crucial that you let me know," he said, his voice low and earnest. "Your well-being is my top priority, always."

I nodded, a lump forming in my throat at the sincere concern in his tone. "How... how would I let you know?" I asked hesitantly.

"We'll agree on specific safewords that you can use to communicate your feelings easily during any activity," he explained patiently. "For example, 'yellow' if you need to slow down or discuss something, and 'red' if you want to stop completely. Does that make sense?"

"Yes," I whispered, marveling at the way he seemed to anticipate my every worry and need.

David smiled reassuringly. "Good. We can also use a number system, with 1 being perfectly comfortable and 10 being overwhelming. All you need to do is say the number, and I'll understand."

I exhaled shakily. I loved how matter-of-factly David was explaining all of this.

David reached out to take my hand in his. His touch was warm and grounding, his thumb tracing soothing circles on my skin. "I know this is a lot to take in," he murmured. "But I promise, we'll go at your pace. You're in control here, Candy. Always."

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, and I blinked them back furiously. I couldn't remember the last time someone had made me feel so safe, so cared for. In that moment, the last of my reservations melted away, replaced by a blooming sense of trust and confidence.

With a deep, steadying breath, I turned to the final page of the contract. The blank space at the bottom seemed to pulse with significance, the weight of the decision before me both exhilarating and terrifying.

I glanced up at David, searching his face for any sign of impatience or pressure. But there was none to be found - only gentle encouragement and unwavering support. He met my gaze steadily, silently communicating his readiness to walk this path alongside me.

He’d let me into this secret world of his, but I had a feeling there was still a lot more to discover about David.

I picked up the pen with trembling fingers. The weight of it was familiar yet foreign, like a key to a door I'd never dared to open. I hesitated for a moment, the nib hovering over the page as a thousand doubts and fears raced through my mind.

But beneath them all, a small, insistent voice whispered that this was right. That this was the path I was meant to walk.

With a final, decisive flourish, I signed my name at the bottom of the contract. The ink gleamed wetly in the soft light of David's office. David leaned forward to add his own signature. His hand was steady and sure, the strokes of his pen fluid and decisive. As he straightened up, our eyes met, a frisson of electricity crackling between us.

David's eyes held mine, their icy blue depths glinting with a hint of excitement. "Now that we've formalized our agreement, I'd like to show you something," he said, his deep voice sending a shiver down my spine.

My mind raced with possibilities, trying to guess what lay ahead.

David gently squeezed my hand before rising from his seat and gesturing for me to follow him. I stood, my heart thrumming with a mix of apprehension and curiosity as I trailed after him.

He led the way across the spacious office, the click of his shoes against the polished floor echoing in the quiet room. We approached a towering bookcase that adorned one wall, its dark wood gleaming under the soft glow of a nearby lamp. With a smooth, practiced motion, David reached out and ran his fingers along the books' spines until he found one that seemed to call to him.

Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland .

As he pulled it out, there was a soft click, followed by a subtle shift in the air around us. My eyes widened in wonder as a hidden door swung open, revealing a dimly lit passage beyond. The scent of old parchment and dust wafted towards us, mingling with an underlying scent of something sweet and comforting.

“A secret passage?”

“Something not a lot of people know about me is that I’m a bit of a nerd,” he said, with a smile. “Secret passages. Treasure. Big surprises. I love it all.”

“Where does it go?”

“You’ll have to lead the way and find out.”

We walked the passage for half a minute or so. The lighting was dim, and the atmosphere was charged.

I wondered whether this was the hidden sex dungeon that people sometimes spoke about in hushed whispers.

So many of my co-workers would kill to be here, in my shoes, uncovering David’s secrets.

Before too long, we arrived at a door. The word “Playroom” was painted on the door in bright pink paint.

David produced a key from his pocket. “Want to open it up?” He handed me the key.

I breathed out slowly, the slipped the key in. With a soft click, the lock disengaged and I pushed the door open. I hesitated on the threshold, suddenly unsure. But the gentle pressure of David's hand at the small of my back urged me forward, and I stepped into a world unlike anything I'd ever seen.

The room was awash in soft, natural light that spilled through a large window overlooking a tranquil courtyard garden. Soothing pastel hues adorned the walls, instantly putting me at ease. Plush cushions in delicate shades of pink and lavender were scattered across a cozy sofa, inviting me to sink into their velvety depths.

A bookshelf stood against one wall, filled not with the dry financial tomes I was used to, but with art supplies, novels, and whimsical décor that seemed to whisper of faraway lands and magical adventures. The air carried a subtle hint of lavender, fresh and calming.

I turned to David, my eyes wide with wonder. "What is this place?" I breathed, hardly daring to believe that such an enchanting oasis could exist here, in the heart of our sterile corporate tower. “How is there a garden there?”

He smiled, a rare gesture that softened his stern features and made my heart skip a beat. "This is a special space, Candy. A place where you can let go of your adult worries and responsibilities, and simply be. As for the garden—I spent a lot of money to make that courtyard garden, and ensure that no windows overlook it. It’s one of the most beautiful, private spaces in the whole city."

I ran my fingers along the spines of the books, marveling at the way they seemed to pulse with life and color. "But why? Why create something like this?"

“For you, Candy.”

“For me?” I couldn’t believe it.

He nodded. “I’ve been watching you, hoping this would appeal to you.”

“How did you know it would?”

David's hand came to rest on my shoulder, the warmth of his touch seeping through the thin fabric of my blouse. "Because I see you, Candy. I see the little girl inside, longing for a place to feel safe and cherished. And I want to give that to you."

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, blurring the room into a soft watercolor haze. No one had ever looked at me the way David did, as if he could see straight into the hidden corners of my soul. No one had ever offered me such a precious gift, a chance to explore the long-buried parts of myself without fear or judgment.

"Thank you," I whispered, my voice thick with emotion. "Thank you for seeing me, for understanding. For giving me this."

I gestured around the room, trying to encompass the magnitude of what he was offering. A chance to heal. To grow. To finally step into the fullness of who I was meant to be.

David's arms came around me, strong and steady, holding me close as the first tears began to fall. And there, in the safety of his embrace, surrounded by the soothing colors and textures of this magical space, I felt a knot deep inside me begin to loosen.