His study was a nightmare. There were papers everywhere and I had no idea which were important and which I could throw away. Life became easier when I realised his filing cabinet was completely empty. I was able to slowly organise things into files and it was whilst doing that endless task that I came across the plans for the town centre. It looked as if someone was hoping to demolish half the high street including the theatre. Was it his company? Was that where his money really came from? Secret property developer?
I kept quiet about the papers, keeping it to myself for now seemed the best thing to do. When he appeared with two cups of coffee, I stopped, waiting for him to comment on my progress. He only nodded and then left me to it.
I was in there most of the day, only taking a break to visit the bathroom. While I was in there, I again flicked through the BDSM magazine of his, trying to connect the images in there to what had happened to me. Was I like the models in the pictures? Was that who I really was? Nothing more than eye candy for men like him?
I could hardly complain about my current predicament. I’d agreed to clean for him. I’d agreed to go to the club, he hadn’t forced me to do anything. The images brought more feelings forward, the way his hand had felt on my rear, how good it had felt to be disciplined by my Daddy. My pussy began to tingle at the thought so I crammed the magazine back in its hiding place, returning to the study and doing my best to ignore the images of his cock in my mouth, the way he’d felt when he came in me, the thickness of his finger in my ass.
He reappeared an hour later, nodding once more. “It looks much better,” he said. “Be back same time tomorrow.”
“How are you so calm?” I asked.
“Excuse me?”
“One minute you’re asking me to stay the night, the next you’re acting as if nothing happened.”
He sighed, leaning back against the wall behind him. “You want to know the truth?”
I nodded. “Of course I do.”
“Will you promise to tell the truth if I do?”
I nodded again, more reluctantly this time.
“Come through to the living room.”
He sat on the sofa and I sat at the far end, looking at him as he stared back at me. “I didn’t expect to have feelings for you,” he said after a lengthy silence. “I planned to humiliate you and then discard you. That’s what I do. I’m a fucked up person.” A pause hung in the air. I said nothing, waiting for him to continue. “I couldn’t do it. I want you, my little princess and you’ve no idea how hard it is for me to admit that. I want to be your Daddy and for you to submit to me. Now your turn.”
“What do you mean, my turn?”
“Why did you say no to staying the night?”
“I wanted to go home.”
“Bullshit. I could see in your eyes there was more to it. What is it?”
I opened my mouth, ready to say some platitude or other but then the truth just came out. “I was in an abusive relationship for a long time and I was scared.”
“Scared of what? Of me?”
“Scared you were the same person.”
“As who?”
“As my ex. I thought if I stayed, you’d see how damaged I was and you’d either want nothing to do with me, or worse, you’d treat me like he did.”
He shuffled closer, reaching his hand out towards mine. I let him take it, marvelling at how different it felt to when Joshua had touched me, or Darren for that matter. No revulsion, no coldness. Just warmth.
“You will be punished when you are bad, never for any other reason. If you agree to submit to me, you will sign a contract, as will I. Either of us breach it and that’s it, all over. There are few rules but you must agree to them all.”
“What rules?”
“Rule one, no lying.”
“I can do that.”
“The rest are in the contract. Do you want to see it?”
I nodded and he left, returning a minute later with a sheet of paper. I read through it, marvelling at the wording. “I’m to call you Daddy at all times in private, and in public if you demand it. I’m to only wear underwear if you allow it. I’m to shave daily, to sleep naked. It goes on and on.”
“You don’t have to sign.”
I snatched the pen from him. “It sounds perfect.”
“Really? You don’t have any worries?”
“Hundreds of them but what the hell, right?” I knew it was me saying the words but it didn’t sound like me. It didn’t feel like me.
“I have another form.”
“Do I have to sign something else?”
“No, I do.”
“What is it?”
He produced another sheet of paper. “May I borrow the pen?”