She wiped her fingers across her cheeks. “Then why do I feel so bad?”
He didn’t like that she still felt so guilty. “Okay, if I agree to spank you that means the guilt ends. You’ve paid your due for being naughty, all right?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“But I won’t do this without a safeword.”
“S-safe word?”
“Yes. Something you can say if you want to stop things. I’ll stop immediately, and it isn’t just for this spanking.”
“What does that mean?”
“Well, if you decide you want to experience being my Little, you can use your safeword at any time. It’s especially important while we’re getting to know each other. As your daddy I would make the decisions about your health and safety, take that responsibility that lies heavily on your shoulders. All you’d need to do is be you. Is to listen to me. Even if you only wanted to do it for a few hours, I would be honored to be your daddy for that short time. Do you have an answer for me, Gigi?”
9
She stared into his handsome face.
He was a warrior. A hero. And he was offering her something she admitted to desperately wanting.
Maybe this was headed for disaster. Maybe she was going to get her heart broken. But at this point, all she could think was that she was tired of living life on the fringes. Of never having anything for herself. Of never having anyone.
Even if this had an expiry date, wasn’t a short time better than nothing at all? Maybe experiencing this daddy/little girl stuff would show her whether it was something she actually wanted.
But there was still something holding her back.
“I’m scared,” she admitted to him.
He pushed her hair behind her ear then cupped his hand around the back of her neck.
“What are you afraid of, baby girl? Me?”
She nodded and his eyes widened in horror. “You think I’d harm you? Sweet pea, I thought you understood when I talk about punishment and spanking that I’d never truly harm you. Never hit you. I’m not
like my father.”
Horror filled her as he set her on the bed and stood, taking several steps away.
“No, no, no. You misunderstand.” She climbed off the bed, moving too quickly and her head spun.
Shoot. She swayed and would have fallen if two hands hadn’t wrapped firmly around her waist.
“Easy, baby girl. Jesus, give me a heart attack, why don’t you?” He picked her up, cradling her in his lap once more as he sat.
“Sorry. I’m sorry,” she told him quickly. “I didn’t mean that. I know you’re nothing like my dad.”
There was a pause.
“Your dad?”
“He used to hit me,” she admitted. “He’s an alcoholic. And a gambler. Whenever he lost, at the pokies or the track, he’d get drunk and then come home and take it out on me. My mum took off when I was young. Can’t blame her. He wasn’t easy to live with. I finally left when I was seventeen and he. . .he. . .”
He rocked her back and forth then kissed the top of her head. “He what, baby girl?”
“He tried to sell me to pay off his debt to his bookie.”
“What the fuck!”