Without a word, Shaw rose to his feet and came after me. I screamed and ran, but I didn’t get far. He plucked me off my feet while I kicked my legs.
“Let me go!” I yelled. “I don’t like you anymore. I hate you. I hate you!”
“That’s fine,” he said through gritted teeth as he threw me over his shoulder and marched out of the living room with me hanging upside down. “Hate me all you want, but you’re never going to see Nathan. You hear me, Ari?” His hand came down hard on my ass. The jeans I wore softened the impact a bit, but I still howled. “I told you I don’t ever want to see you hanging around Nathan.”
“Well, you can’t stop me. I’m going to sneak out and find him. He’ll get me paint. He’ll get me anything I want, I bet.”
Another hand cracked against my ass harder this time. My hard dick pressed into his shoulder, where I was folded up like a pretzel.
“Over my dead body, Ari.”
It thrilled me that Daddy Shaw could speak this way after being such a nice, predictable guy all these years. He rushed me into my bedroom and threw me onto the bed.
Instead of coming after me to give me the spanking I so deserved, he stalked over to the door and threw me a furious look over his shoulder.
“You’re going to stay here all by yourself and calm down,” he told me.
“Can’t you just spank me?” I wasn’t below begging for it.
“No, because I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop if you code red. Sit there and think about your careless words and how you’re trying to provoke me.”
He slammed the door shut. I threw myself down onto the bed and grabbed the pillows while I sulked and bawled. I threw things at the door. And when that didn’t get his attention, I yelled that I was going out the window to find Nathan. He didn’t respond. I didn’t go out the window.
Oh, Daddy was good. He didn’t give me any attention while I was in timeout. He completely ignored me, and it was the worst feeling in the world — being ignored by my Daddy. I paced the room, I sat on the floor, I banged on the door, even though the actual door wasn’t locked, but I didn’t dare to leave the room without Daddy’s permission.
I yelled lies about why I needed to leave the room. I’d cut my arm and needed to go to the hospital. I’d left the hose on in the yard and was probably flooding us out. I was hungry and needed something to eat.
Finally, I had an excellent reason. One that was very true.
“I need to pee, Daddy!” I cried. “Please let me go to the bathroom.”
“Use your diaper! That’s what they’re there for.”
“I don’t know how to do up my diaper. I need adult help.”
He went silent. Was he ignoring me again? I’d never leave that room without his permission.
The door opened, and Shaw came in. He surveyed the damage I’d done, all the missiles I’d launched across the room: the broken clock, a photo frame, fashion magazines, even a pair of scissors. I’d thrown anything I could get my hands on.
“I came up here to help you put on a diaper,” he said softly. “Because you’re grounded and not allowed to leave this room without my permission. But you don’t deserve your diaper. You’ve been a very rotten boy, Ari.”
“But I have to go.”
“Then go.”
“What? Without my diaper?” I sucked in a deep breath. Who would have thought Daddy Shaw had a streak for humiliation? Just what other dirty secrets did my Daddy have? Was I going to have to provoke them out of him one by one? First his possessiveness, now his apparent humiliation kick.
“Good boys get their precious little bottom diapered.”
“But, Daddy, it’s coming down.”
“Then let it.”
I searched Daddy’s face. Was he naïvely asking me to do something, or did he truly wanted to see me wet myself? The tented front of his sweats gave me the answer I needed.
I closed my eyes and released my bladder. The warm pee gushed down my pant leg. I’d never done this with the one Daddy I had before, and it was strange, distressing, and disgusting to wet my pants in front of someone else, especially someone I’d looked up to for so long.
What’s he thinking? Does he think I’m disgusting now?