Daddy’s Firm Hand

5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

W hat a difference a few days can make.

Before I started playing with David, everything was gray.

The sky, my clothes, my work. Now, just a few days later, it felt like color had returned to my life with a vengeance.

And with the return of color, the stresses and anxieties of my life were starting to fade away.

It was the weekend, and I was at home, journaling about the positive changes I'd experienced lately. I’d journaled since I was a kid, and I had over twenty neatly completed stored in my memory boxes.

My work performance had improved dramatically, and I approached each task with renewed enthusiasm. I was actually enjoying being an accountant. I was starting to see the fun in doing a good job, and the joy that pride in myself could bring.

I was interrupted from my writing by my phone ringing. It was Molly.

“Hey girl,” she said, “You free? I need coffee and I need it now !”

"Of course!" I replied cheerfully. "Shall we hit Maisie’s?”

“You read my mind. See you in twenty.”

Maisie’s was a quaint café that we both loved. It was adorned with vintage décor and filled with the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee. As we settled into our small table by the window, I took a deep breath and prepared to share my recent experiences with her. "Molly, I've got so much to tell you.”

“This is about your boss, isn’t it?”

“Maybe.”

She gave me a suggestive eyebrow waggle. “Come on! Spill the beans!”

"Okay, so…" I hesitated for a moment before continuing. "This is going to sound so weird. But, the thing is, David’s shown me a new way to cope with stress through embracing my more youthful, carefree side." I glanced nervously at Molly, hoping she wouldn't judge me.

"Really?" she asked, genuinely intrigued. "That sounds so interesting."

"David's an incredible person," I said, my voice filled with admiration. "He's helping me reconnect with a part of myself that I'd long suppressed." As I spoke, I realized how much trust I had placed in him, and how deeply he had impacted my life.

I slowly started to explain the whole thing to her. She patiently listened, and there wasn’t even a hint of judgment on her face. I was so grateful to have her.

"Candy, I'm so happy for you!" Molly beamed, her eyes reflecting genuine happiness for me. "It sounds like you've found something really special, and I'm so glad it's making such a difference in your life."

"Thank you, Molly," I replied, feeling a wave of gratitude wash.

The warmth of Molly's hand enveloped mine, as she squeezed it gently. "I haven't seen you this happy in a long time," she said warmly, her vibrant blonde hair catching the light that filtered through the café window. "Whatever you're doing, it's clearly working for you."

"Thank you," I murmured, my chest swelling with relief and gratitude. "It feels weird. Almost like I don’t deserve to be happy or something.”

“I understand. But, you’ve got to embrace what brings you joy, Candy," she urged. "Self-care and authenticity are so important." Her words felt like a soothing balm, and I couldn't help but smile.

"Thank you, Molly," I whispered, feeling uplifted and grateful for her unwavering support.

The following day when I was back at the office, I found myself approaching tasks with newfound confidence. My interactions with colleagues were more positive, and I even volunteered to take on additional responsibilities for an upcoming project. It felt as if I was finally hitting my stride, seamlessly blending my professional life with the personal growth I was experiencing. The structure and support provided by my arrangement with David had given me a solid foundation.

"Nice work, Candy!" my line manager, Lisa, complimented me as we wrapped up a particularly successful meeting. "You've really stepped up lately."

"Thanks, Lisa," I replied, my cheeks flushing slightly with pride. As I walked back to my desk, my thoughts wandered back to my conversation with Molly. Her words about self-care and authenticity echoed in my mind, reminding me of the importance of nurturing the parts of myself that had long been neglected.

I glanced at my watch.

It was time.

The moment I entered the playroom, a surge of energy coursed through me. The familiar scent of sweetness and leather filled my senses, and the sight of the carefully arranged toys sent a shiver down my spine. The anticipation of our next play session had me practically buzzing with excitement.

To my delight, David was already here.

He stood by the window, a ray of sunlight casting a halo around his head, illuminating the slight stubble on his jawline and accentuating the hints of silver in his dark hair. But what caught my attention most was the sight that awaited me as my gaze trailed down his figure. His shirt was undone a little more than usual, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of his muscular chest beneath.

My heart quickened its pace as desire stirred within me, unexpected and fierce. The way his form commanded the room, the subtle flex of his muscles as he moved—it all evoked a primal response that I couldn't deny. The air between us crackled with unspoken tension, and I found myself mesmerized by him in a way that went beyond mere admiration.

I’d been having interesting dreams recently.

Every night, I’d find myself waking up, sweating with desire, after imagining myself getting spanked, bound and fucked by David. I was finding it hard not to seem openly aroused.

Nothing sexual had happened between the two of us, and I was starting to give up on the idea. Maybe he just didn’t feel that way about me.

"Ready for some fun, sweetheart?" David asked, his voice steady but warm.

"Yes, Daddy," I replied, my voice betraying my eagerness.

It was so easy, calling him that. So natural.

We started out with coloring, and before too long I had all my dolls out and was organizing a tea party.

After half an hour or so, a call came through for him, and David had to leave for a moment.

“Be good, Babygirl.”

I was lost in littlespace, though. So much so that I barely noticed that he was gone. I felt so excited to be trying new stuff. Each new experience sent thrills through my body, and I couldn't help but become more animated. In fact, I grew so caught up in the excitement that I found myself disregarding some of the guidelines David and I had established.

I hadn’t been in the playroom alone before, and the urge to explore was too strong to ignore.

Curiosity gnawed at me, and I began rummaging through cabinets and drawers without asking permission, my hands darting from one hidden treasure to another. I knew I was stepping over the boundaries, but the thrill of discovery proved too alluring to resist.

"Look at this!" I exclaimed to no one in particular, holding up an intricately carved wooden paddle. "And this!" My fingers curled around a bundle of soft, silky ropes.

This was kinky stuff. Stuff that I had hoped we’d be experimenting with, but so far hadn’t. I knew I shouldn’t be rummaging through this stuff, but I just couldn’t help myself.

As I continued my exploration, I failed to notice David watching me from across the room.

“Well, well, well,” his voice sounded out. “Look at what we have here.”

I grimaced and looked over at him. He’d caught me holding a butt plug.

“It’s not what it looks like! I wasn’t going to stick it in!”

He smiled a wicked smile. "Sweetheart," he said, his tone firm but gentle. "I've noticed you're straying from our agreed-upon guidelines."

My heart leaped into my throat, and a wave of guilt washed over me. I looked into his piercing blue eyes, and I could see the disappointment mingled with concern.

"Daddy, I . . . I'm sorry," I stammered, feeling my face flush with embarrassment. "I didn't mean to break any rules, I just got carried away. And when I found the paddle I was just like, oooh, what other naughty stuff is here?"

He nodded, understanding the temptation that had led me astray. "It's natural to be curious, but it's important for us to maintain the structure we've established to keep our dynamic safe and enjoyable."

I lowered my gaze, ashamed of my impulsive actions. David's words served as a sobering reminder of the importance of trust within our relationship, and I resolved to make amends and show him that I valued the connection we shared.

Feeling a mix of embarrassment and remorse, I lowered my gaze. "You're right," I admitted, my stomach sinking under the weight of my actions. "I should have asked first. I got carried away."

David reached out to tilt my chin upward, ensuring I met his eyes. "It's okay to make mistakes," he reassured me. "What's important is that we learn from them."

As I nodded, my trust in him reaffirmed by his calm demeanor, I resolved to be more mindful of our established boundaries. I knew I needed to demonstrate my commitment to our dynamic, not only for David but also for myself.

"As part of our dynamic," he continued gently, "we discussed that there would be consequences when rules are broken." He paused for a moment, allowing the gravity of his words to sink in. "This isn't about punishment in a harsh sense, but about helping you understand the importance of our guidelines."

A flutter of nerves danced in my stomach as I recalled the section of our contract that outlined discipline and correction. I took a deep, shaky breath and whispered, "I remember. I accept that there should be consequences."

Was he going to use the paddle on me? I’d asked him only to use his hand to spank me, but maybe I’d be into it. . . .

“The consequence will be proportionate and designed to reinforce our agreed-upon boundaries. I’m thinking a time-out period? You could reflect quietly on why the rules were important.”

“Boooring—”

“It’s not meant to be fun, young lady,” he said. “Alternatively, you could write lines, a simple and mindful exercise.”

My heart sank slightly at the realization that I wouldn't be spanked, though I knew it wasn't appropriate for this situation. After considering the options, I chose to write lines, feeling that the act of writing would help solidify the lesson.

"Okay," I murmured, my cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and determination. "I'll write the lines."

The small desk in the quiet corner of the playroom seemed to beckon me, offering a space for reflection and growth. As I sat down, David handed me a sheet of paper and a pen, his eyes kind but resolute. "I will write 'I will respect the boundaries we have set' twenty times," I announced, determined to learn from my mistake.

"That's a good idea, babygirl," he agreed, giving me an encouraging nod. He took a step back, allowing me the space I needed while still remaining close by.

With each stroke of the pen, I felt a sense of calm wash over me. The room was peaceful, and the act of writing became a meditative process. My thoughts turned inward as I reflected on the trust I had placed in David, and how important it was to honor that trust by respecting our agreed-upon boundaries.

"Thank you for taking this seriously," David said gently as I handed him the completed paper. His smile was warm and genuine, and I could tell he appreciated my willingness to learn and grow with him.

"I'm sorry for overstepping," I admitted, feeling a sense of closure. "I value what we have, and I don't want to jeopardize it."

David opened his arms, inviting me into his embrace. I stepped forward without hesitation, eager to feel the warmth and reassurance of his hug. "We all make mistakes," he whispered into my ear, his breath tickling my skin. "What's important is that we move forward together."

As his arms wrapped around me, I felt a wave of comfort wash over me. My body melted into him, our connection deepening in this moment of vulnerability. The scent of his cologne enveloped me, triggering my senses and heightening my arousal. I could feel his hard body through the fabric of his clothes, and it wasn't lost on me that it was his discipline that made me crave him even more.

His hand glided softly down my back, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. My heart rate quickened as I felt his touch, his fingers gently caressing my skin. This man, who was both my disciplinarian and the source of my deepest desires, was now holding me close, his warmth comforting me.

I felt lust bloom in my core, and I had to squirm a little, pushing my legs together as my pussy tingled.

Then, I could have sworn I felt something hard—hard and impossibly big—pressing into my belly.

“There,” he said, looking flustered. “That was a nice cuddle.”

“I want more.”

“Later,” he said.

Fuck. He had a hard on. There was no question of it.

A mischievous thought flitted through my mind. I couldn't help but wish he had spanked me instead of assigning the writing task. The notion was bold, daring even, but it ignited a playful fire within me.

"Daddy," I said, "I have a question."

"Go ahead, sweetheart," he replied, his voice calm and measured as always. But there was a hint of something beneath it.

"Is there any way to . . . well, break the rules in a fun way?" I ventured hesitantly, curious to see how he would react.

He raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement flickering across his face. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, being naughty can be exciting too, right?" I flushed slightly, feeling both embarrassed and thrilled at voicing my desires.

"Ah, I see what you're getting at," he said with a knowing smile. "You wanted something different for your consequence, didn't you?"

"Maybe," I confessed, my gaze darting away from his intense stare. I couldn't believe I was having this conversation with him, but the excitement was undeniable.

“Something . . . spanky?”

“Maaaaybe,” I said with a naughty smile.

“Well, you never know what might happen if you keep breaking rules.”

As we walked back together, I made up my mind. Tomorrow, I was going to get Daddy to spank me. And I was going to like it.