“I feel like I can finally be the person I was meant to be too, little one. Thanks to you.”
I motion for the check.
“Oh…and don’t forget, you can call me Daddy.”
7
Diana
We arrive back at our building at sunset. What was scheduled to be a coffee ‘date’ turned into an all day affair. After coffee we walked around nicer parts of the city and even found a park, where Daniel pushed me on a swing.
The wind in my hair as I felt so carefree, swinging up so high that he could give me an ‘Underdog’, where he pushed through and continued moving forward underneath me until he was in front of me. It was everything I didn’t get to experience in my childhood and all the fun I wanted as an adult.
And the crazy thing is I knew it was going to be like that today. Something happened last night after he left me to go inside my apartment. I changed into the person I always knew I was, but wasn’t ready to come out of my cocoon and spread my wings yet.
He allowed that. He facilitated that. Not only that, he played a figurative trumpet behind me, letting me be the star of my own special day.
One thing, though, stuck in my mind. He kept calling me ‘good girl’, amongst other things. There was only one incident where I was naughty and that was at the coffee shop, and I wasn’t really that naughty at all, correcting my behavior before he really got close to dishing out any sort of punishment.
And punishment, and what it might be, was what interested me most as this day was winding down. Seeing that it wasn’t a day I wanted to end anytime soon I figured it was time to kill two birds with one stone.
I take off up the stairs of our apartment building in a rush. “Slow down, young lady. You might hurt yourself.”
I hear him, but I don’t listen.
“Slow. Down!” his deep baritone echoes through the stairway, commanding me to freeze in my tracks, but I don’t. Instead I just continue right up to my apartment, open it and dash inside…leaving the door open.
My heart pounds in my chest as the sound of each footstep of this gigantic man coming up the stairs echoes from the hallway and into my room.
He starts whistling, calmly and totally as if nothing’s wrong. But when he reaches what should be his front door he doesn’t stop, continuing to my door.
His shoulder fill the entire door frame, his hands on his hips and his stance wide, the look he gives me fills my entire stomach, with both dread and butterflies at the same time.
“I told you to go slowly up the stairs…and you didn’t,” he recounts, his eyes narrowing a little more with each word. “Now you’re going to find out what happens when you jeopardize what’s mine.”
Oh snap!
I cower back on the futon, pulling Bugsy and Benny in front of me, holding the stuffed rabbits in front of me as if stuffed polyester is some sort of shield against well over two hundred pounds of sheer muscle, two hundred and fifty pounds if I was venturing a guess.
“Come here,” he says, pointing to the threshold of the door at the tips of his feet.
I shake my head no, frowning and sticking out my lower lip.
“Little Peaches, did your father ever spank you as a child?”
Oh. My. God. He really just went there.
“I never knew my daddy.”
“You mean you never knew your father.” I cock an eyebrow curiously at his semantics. “See a father is someone w
ho carpools to work, sits at a desk all day until his muscles atrophy beyond the point of repair. Then he marches his miserable ass to the chiropractor twice a week and complains to your mother how much it hurts to sit through your school plays.”
“I wouldn’t know.”
“Well, what you’re about to learn is what a daddy is. See a daddy is none of those things. A daddy keeps you in line, and when you get out of line he spanks you, pulls your hair, and fucks you so hard the legs of the bed break. Then he takes you out for ice cream and buys you a new stuffie.” He pauses. “Big difference, and I haven’t even mentioned the most important difference.”
“What’s that, Daddy?”