Chapter Twenty-Five
Huxley
It would not be an exaggeration to say that he’d been waiting for this his entire adult life. In some ways, even longer than that. For as long as he’d had an interest in girls, he’d always wanted to spank them. That part hadn’t been so alarming. The other stuff though…
It hadn’t seemed normal to want to treat girls and women as small children or even infants. It wasn’t all girls, though. But when other guys passed around Playboys and Victoria’s Secret catalogues, he had to fake most of his enthusiasm. Not for boobs, because boobs were great. But the lingerie had done nothing for him, and neither had a lot of the poses they had the centerfolds and other models in.
He’d imagined the women instead in short frilly dresses, overalls, diapers. Instead of degrading and using them which seemed to be a common fantasy among his friends and teammates, he wanted to care for them and nurture them. Discipline and control them, sure, but in more of a guiding way. He didn’t want to be Master, or even Sir really. He wanted to be Daddy.
It had kept him up nights. Not just while he was jerking off to the images of playing with the nipples of a pig-tailed girl sucking on a paci, but also because it didn’t seem right. Not with the women he knew, and not with the women he regarded as equals.
How could he respect them and want to infantilize them at the same time? It had seemed like it was possible—wasn’t he doing it after all?—but what if he was really just some misogynistic, sexist, male chauvinist troll?
It wasn’t until he’d confided in Lo one drunk night in college that he’d been able to start putting that stomach churning guilt and worry behind him. Oh, sure, it still popped up every now and again but now he knew better. And being at Hive had helped cement the idea in his mind.
The other daddies he’d met there were some of the best men he knew and worshiped the women in their lives. But everyone liked to play this game and wouldn’t it have been worse to keep this joy and satisfaction from themselves, including the women who wanted to be treated this way?
He really hoped someone who wasn’t him would write a treatise on this one day. Or maybe he would, since he had time on his hands now. Sort of. He spent a bunch of his time working out and reading, things he hadn’t been able to spend much time doing while he was in office and campaigning. And this week, he’d been very busy indeed.
Waiting for Tamsyn to arrive after she’d been at work all day was akin to waiting for Santa when he’d been small. Anticipation fizzed in his chest, and in addition to his usual inability to keep his hands still, he found himself unable to sit still either. When he finally heard the garage door open, he had to rub at his chest because it felt as though his heart was going into overdrive.
“Don’t you fucking dare,” he muttered to the fist-sized muscle beating against his ribcage. He had things to do and fuck if another heart attack was going to ruin this for him.
When his little girl finally made it into the mud room, he waited just long enough for her to drop her bag on the bench and then gathered her into a big bear hug, lifting her off her feet. Even after a day in the office where he knew she’d been stressed and twisted up, trying to get ahead on the next project and ensure every single i was dotted, every t was crossed so that rat bastard Pete Surry couldn’t fuck her over again no matter how hard he tried, she melted in his arms and nuzzled her face into his neck.
“Hi, Daddy.”
“Hi, kitten. I’m so glad you’re home.”
“Me too,” she sighed, and then kissed the column of his throat.
He’d planned to present her surprise straight away—and also might burst if he had to contain himself any longer—but if she needed some time to unwind and decompress before she could fully enjoy herself, then she did.
He’d get her some tea, plunk her on the couch, and let her brief him on her day while he rubbed her feet. It wouldn’t be easy, but he’d wait. If he had to.
“Long day?” he asked, letting her slide down the front of his body but not letting her go.
Poor thing whimpered when she put her weight back into her feet, so he instructed, “Shoes off, babygirl.”
After she’d complied, she pressed her ear to his chest and sighed again.
“The longest.”
“Would it help if I told you I had a surprise for you or would that add to the weight of your responsibilities?”
He could feel her perk up against him. “Grown-up surprise or little surprise?”
“It’s a surprise for my little girl. Are you ready to be little or do you need some time to relax as a grown-up? It’s not like this surprise has an expiration date or a time limit. Do whatever you need to do.”
She squeezed him tight around his waist, her breasts pressing into his abdomen, and he summoned all the patience he had. Either way really would be fine. He had to be what she needed regardless of how much he wanted to share with her right this very second. Kept his expression neutral but intent when she looked up at him.
“I just want to be little, Daddy. And little girls love surprises.”
* * *
Tamsyn
She knew Hux had been up to something this week, but heck if she’d known what it was. After what had happened with the Stinson project, she’d been so busy triple-checking the Albrecht numbers, and diving into the Hadid project that mostly she’d walked into her daddies’ embrace when she arrived at their home and let them take her over until morning when she would lather, rinse, and repeat the whole thing over again. She’d been curious, sure, but if she needed to know, she trusted them to tell her.