Protect Me Daddy

5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

B efore spending time in Littlespace, Dwight insisted that he take me shopping. He took me to a ridiculously expensive, swanky boutique on Park Street. I felt so out of my depth, but Dwight didn’t have a hint of nerves on his face. He made me feel strong.

The boutique's glass doors swung open, a chime announcing our arrival. I hesitated at the threshold, overwhelmed by racks of designer clothes and the scent of expensive perfume.

"Come on, princess," Dwight urged gently, his hand warm on the small of my back. "Let's get you some new things."

I bit my lip, eyeing a price tag. "Dwight, this is too much. I can't—"

"Shh," he soothed, steering me towards a display of soft sweaters. "Let me do this for you. It's important."

A saleswoman approached, all perfect makeup and practiced smile. "Can I help you find anything specific today?"

Dwight's voice was calm, authoritative. "We're looking for a complete wardrobe refresh. Practical pieces, but also . . ." his eyes met mine, a hint of mischief there, "some special items for my little one."

My cheeks burned as understanding bloomed on the saleswoman's face. But there was no judgment, just a knowing nod. "Of course, sir. Right this way."

What followed was a whirlwind of fabrics and fittings. Dwight insisted on classics – tailored blazers, crisp blouses, things I'd never been able to afford. But then came the "little" items: a selection of sundresses—one pink, one blue, one yellow—that made me feel like a princess, fuzzy socks in a rainbow of colors, delicate hair ribbons that Dwight ran through his fingers with a tender smile.

In the dressing room, I stared at my reflection, hardly recognizing myself in a cashmere sweater that felt like a cloud against my skin.

"Dwight," I called softly, "this is honestly too much—"

He appeared in the doorway, eyes warm. "Is that a defiant tone, young lady?”

I felt a prickle of heat on my cheeks. “No Daddy.”

“Good girl. You do as Daddy says. And remember, providing for you isn't just about your needs. It fulfills something in me, too. Let me take care of you this way."

I swallowed hard. "I'm not used to this," I admitted.

Dwight cupped my face in his hands. "I know, baby girl. But you deserve good things. Let yourself have them."

Back at his penthouse that evening, I twirled shyly in the pink sundress, feeling both ridiculous and cherished. Dwight watched from the couch, pride evident in every line of his body.

"Beautiful," he murmured. Then, his voice gentle but firm: "Tilly, I'd like us to spend tomorrow in Littlespace. No pressure, just exploration. Let me show you how peaceful it can be."

My stomach fluttered with nerves, but I found myself nodding. "Okay," I whispered.

Dwight opened his arms, and I curled against him, listening as he outlined plans for our special day. As I drifted off, safe and warm, I realized I was no longer afraid of letting go.

The next morning, I woke to find Dwight arranging items on my dresser with careful precision. My heart fluttered at the sight of the pale pink sundress, fuzzy pink socks, and satin hair ribbons laid out with such tenderness.

Dwight's strong hands smoothed imaginary wrinkles from the dress as he placed it just so. The protective instinct radiating from his muscular frame made me feel small and cherished. When he turned and saw me watching, his stern features softened into a warm smile.

"Good morning, little one," he said, his deep voice gentle. "I've got a special day planned for us."

I felt a blush creep up my cheeks. "It looks wonderful . . . Daddy." The word still felt new on my tongue, but it sent a thrill through me.

Dwight's eyes crinkled with approval. He gestured to a cozy nest of blankets and pillows he'd created in the living room corner. Carefully chosen toys peeked out—a delicate porcelain tea set, pristine coloring books, and Red Rabbit propped up as guest of honor.

"Breakfast first," Dwight said, offering his hand. "Then we'll go over the rules for our little day together."

In the kitchen, the scent of vanilla and cinnamon made my mouth water. Dwight had outdone himself—heart-shaped pancakes adorned with plump strawberries awaited me. As I settled into my chair, he poured a glass of milk, his movements measured and sure.

"Today is about feeling safe and small," Dwight explained, sliding into the seat across from me. His piercing gaze held mine, grounding me. "We'll have rules, but they're to help you feel secure. Do you understand?"

I nodded, warmth blooming in my chest at his care. "Yes, Daddy."

"Good girl." Dwight's praise sent a shiver of delight through me. "First rule - you'll use 'Daddy' when addressing me. You’re acing that one so far! Second, ask permission before leaving the room. And third, follow my guidance. Can you do that for me?"

The rules felt like a comforting blanket wrapping around me. "I'll try my best," I promised softly.

Dwight reached across the table to squeeze my hand. "That's all I ask, little one. Now eat up—we have a big day ahead."

As I savored the sweet, buttery pancakes, I felt myself slipping into a place of safety and surrender. Today, I didn't have to be strong or in control. Today, I could simply be Daddy's little girl.

After breakfast, I got dressed, with Dwight’s help.

I stood before the full-length mirror, barely recognizing the girl who gazed back at me. Dwight's gentle hands wove ribbons through my dark hair, his fingers caressing my scalp with each careful braid. The soft yellow sundress he'd chosen hugged my body, making me feel delicate and cherished.

"Being little isn't about going backwards, Tilly," Dwight murmured, his breath warm against my ear. "It's about finding peace in the present."

I nodded, watching his reflection as he worked. "It feels . . . different," I admitted, my voice small. "Like I'm safe, but also vulnerable?"

Dwight's eyes met mine in the mirror, a tender smile playing on his lips. "That's trust, little one. You're allowing yourself to be open with me. It’s beautiful. Just like you."

As he tied the final ribbon, something shifted inside me. The girl in the mirror looked protected, cared for—loved, even. I felt a lump form in my throat. It was strange that I felt such strong feelings for Dwight, but we hadn’t even kissed.

Did he want to kiss me? Was he interested in me romantically? It felt like he was , and he was calling me beautiful, but a part of me worried that he just wanted to heal me, then he’d forget me. Like had happened with Sarah.

"Ready for our tea party?" Dwight asked, his tone light but watchful. I pushed my worries aside.

I nodded, suddenly eager. "Yes, Daddy!"

We settled into the cozy corner he'd prepared, surrounded by stuffed animals. Red Rabbit sat in a place of honor, and I hugged him close as Dwight poured imaginary tea.

"Would you like one lump or two, Mr. Elephant?" Dwight asked in a comically posh voice.

A giggle escaped me before I could stop it. "Daddy, you're silly!"

"It’s the only way to address a plush pachyderm." He winked, then adopted a gruff voice for the bear. "Well, I'll have you know that proper tea etiquette is very serious business, young lady!"

I dissolved into laughter, feeling the last of my tension melt away. As Dwight continued his playful voices, I found myself sinking deeper into a headspace where worries didn't exist—where I was simply Daddy's cherished little girl, safe in a world of make-believe.

I saw a shift in Dwight's eyes as he reached for my favorite stuffed bunny. His expression was gentle yet determined.

"Let's try a new game, little one," Dwight said softly. "This is Brave Princess Red Rabbit, and she has a Royal Guard to protect her."

“Oooh, nice, Red Rabbit has always secretly wanted to be a princess.”

He picked up the big teddy bear I'd named Mr. Fluffles, his large paws enveloping the smaller bunny. Something about the way he held them made my chest tighten.

“I had a feeling Red Rabbit might like that.”

"So, what kind of game do you want to play?" I asked, my voice small.

"One where Princess Bunny faces scary things, but her Guard, Mr. Fluffles, is always there to keep her safe." Dwight's tone was reassuring, but I felt a tremor of anxiety.

My fingers twisted in the hem of my new sundress. "I don't know if I want to play that."

"It's okay to be nervous," Dwight said. "We'll go slow. Can you show me how Princess Bunny might feel walking down a dark street?"

My hand shook slightly as I took the bunny. I made her hop tentatively, looking around with exaggerated movements. "She's scared," I whispered. "She keeps thinking she hears footsteps behind her."

Dwight nodded encouragingly. "That's right. Now watch how Guard Bear responds."

He made the teddy stride confidently alongside my bunny. "Don't worry, Princess," he said in a deep, gruff voice. "I'm right here with you. You're brave and strong, and I won't let anything hurt you."

Something inside me began to uncoil. I felt tears prick at my eyes, but they weren't from fear this time.

"What happens next?" I asked, my voice steadier.

"Whatever you want," Dwight said. "Princess Bunny is in control of her story."

I took a deep breath, surprised by how much lighter I felt. "Maybe . . . maybe she sees a shadow that scares her?"

Dwight smiled warmly. "Let's see how she handles it, with her Guard by her side."

As we continued to play, I found myself working through scenarios that had haunted my dreams. Each time, Dwight's bear was there - strong, protective, but always reminding my bunny of her own courage.

Finally, I felt a little sliver of safety coming back to me. It felt like warm honey.

“Now, I’m going to teach you something, sweetheart,” Dwight said, “Because sometimes princesses need to slay their own dragons.”

“Sounds scary.”

“I promise you, it’ll make you feel more confident.”

So, over the next twenty minutes or so, Dwight taught me some basic self-defence tricks. The sensitive parts on a man, how to break a hold, and, crucially, how to fight dirty.

“No such thing as a fair fight,” he said, “you’ve got to struggle for an advantage, okay?”

The more we practiced, the better I felt, and sure enough, I could sense my confidence rising and rising. He’d be there for me, but I had to be there for myself, too.

When we were done, Daddy got out some coloring for me to do. I’d enjoyed facing up to some fears, but it also felt really good just to let go and sink into the coloring.

I hunched over the coloring book, my tongue poking out in concentration as I carefully filled in the intricate mandala pattern. The soft scratch of colored pencils against paper was soothing, lulling me deeper into my little headspace.

"Look, Daddy!" I exclaimed, holding up the half-finished design. "Isn't it pretty?"

Dwight leaned in, his eyes crinkling with warmth. "It's beautiful, princess. You're doing such a wonderful job."

His praise made me glow inside. I returned to my coloring with renewed enthusiasm, but after a few minutes, I noticed my water glass was empty. Without thinking, I stood up.

"I'm just gonna-" I started, already heading for the kitchen.

"Tilly," Dwight's gentle voice stopped me in my tracks. "What did we agree about leaving the room?"

My cheeks flushed as I realized my mistake. "Oh! I'm supposed to ask permission first. I'm sorry, Daddy. I forgot."

Dwight's expression was kind but firm. "That's right, little one. It's important to remember our rules. They help keep you safe and make sure I always know where you are."

I nodded, feeling a twinge of guilt for disappointing him. "I'm really sorry. Can I please go get some more water?"

"Of course you can, sweetheart. Thank you for asking nicely."

As I refilled my glass, I couldn't shake the feeling of having let Daddy down. Even though his reminder had been gentle, I hated the thought of breaking his trust. I promised myself I'd be more mindful of the rules from now on.

Later, after we'd had lunch, Dwight's phone buzzed. He glanced at it with a slight frown. "I need to take this work call, princess. It shouldn't take long. Can you be a good girl and play quietly for a few minutes?"

I nodded, settling onto the couch with my favorite stuffed animal. But as Dwight stepped into the other room, his voice a low murmur, a thought popped into my head. The mail! I'd been waiting for a package, and I suddenly remembered I hadn't checked for days.

It's just down to the lobby, I reasoned. I'll be super quick. Daddy won't even know I'm gone.

Before I could talk myself out of it, I slipped on my shoes and eased open the front door. The hallway seemed longer and darker than usual. My heart started to race as I made my way to the elevator.

You're fine, I told myself sternly. Stop being such a baby.

But as the elevator doors opened onto the lobby, a wave of anxiety crashed over me. The space suddenly felt vast and exposed. Every shadow seemed to loom menacingly. My breath came in short gasps as I realized how vulnerable I was, alone and unprotected.

What was I thinking? Panic clawed at my throat. I needed to get back upstairs. I needed Daddy.

I froze, torn between rushing to the mailboxes and fleeing back to the safety of the apartment. That's when I heard the elevator ding behind me. My heart leapt into my throat.

"Tilly."

Dwight's voice was low, a mix of concern and disappointment that made me want to curl up and disappear. I turned slowly, tears already forming in my eyes.

"You remember our rule?" he asked gently, closing the distance between us with long strides.

I nodded, my lower lip trembling. "Ask permission before I leave the room," I whispered, the words catching in my throat.

Dwight's strong arms enveloped me, and I buried my face in his chest, inhaling his comforting scent. “The rules are important, Little One. They’re to help reinforce our dynamic, and to keep you safe. Does that seem fair?”

"It does. I'm sorry, Daddy," I mumbled into his shirt. "I just wanted to check the mail."

"I know, little one. I understand," he sighed, stroking my hair. "But your safety is more important than any package. Let's go back upstairs and talk about this, okay?"

The elevator ride felt eternal. Dwight kept his arm around me, but I could sense the tension in his body. My stomach churned with guilt and anxiety.

Once inside the apartment, Dwight guided me to the couch. He knelt in front of me, his piercing eyes full of concern.

"Rules keep you safe, little one. Breaking them has consequences," he said, his voice firm but not unkind. "I think we need to address your choice."

I squirmed, knowing what was coming. "Yes, Daddy," I whispered.

Dwight took a deep breath. "I suggest a mild spanking—five swats. But I want you to understand that you have the right to say no. This is about keeping you safe, not punishing you. Do you understand?"

I nodded, a mix of emotions swirling inside me. Part of me craved the release of submitting to his discipline, while another part felt ashamed that I needed it.

"Use your words, princess," Dwight prompted gently.

"I understand, Daddy," I said, meeting his gaze. "And . . . I consent."

I took a shaky breath as Dwight guided me over his lap. His strong hand rested on the small of my back, warm and reassuring.

"Remember, little one," he murmured, "you're safe and loved. This is to help you learn, not to hurt you."

The first swat landed, more startling than painful. I gasped, fingers curling into the soft fabric of the couch.

"One," Dwight counted softly. His hand rubbed gentle circles where it had just landed. "You're doing so well, princess."

Each swat was followed by his soothing touch and words of reassurance. By the third, tears were streaming down my face—not from pain, but from the release of pent-up emotions.

"You're safe, Tilly. I've got you," Dwight murmured as he delivered the final swat.

I lay there, draped over his lap, sniffling. His hand moved in comforting patterns across my back.

"All done, sweetheart. You took that so bravely," he praised.

Gently, Dwight helped me sit up and pulled me into his arms. I burrowed against his chest, inhaling his familiar scent.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, his voice soft with concern.

"I . . . I'm okay," I whispered. "It wasn't really about the spanking, was it?"

Dwight's arms tightened around me. "No, little one. It was about reminding you that your safety matters. That you matter."

I nodded against his shirt, feeling small and protected. "I'm sorry I scared you, Daddy."

"I know, princess. You're forgiven," he assured me. "Can you tell me what you're thinking right now?"

I paused, trying to sort through the tangle of emotions. "I feel . . . safe. And happy. But also a little embarrassed that I needed this."

Dwight tilted my chin up, his eyes meeting mine. "There's no shame in needing structure, Tilly. It makes you brave for accepting the help you need."

His words washed over me, soothing the last of my anxiety. I snuggled closer, feeling truly secure.