Page 6 of Daddy's Firm Hand

I bit my lip, feeling my heart-rate spike.

"Have you ever felt out of place in the conventional structures of the corporate world?" he asked, his gaze intent on mine.

I hesitated, then admitted softly, "Yes, often. I sometimes feel like I'm not suited for it."

"It’s very brave of you to admit that. Many people struggle with the relentless pressures of modern life," he said gently. "Embracing one's more youthful, carefree side can be a form of stress relief and personal growth. Some find comfort in allowing themselves to be looked after and guided."

As David spoke, something within me stirred. A resonance with his words that tugged at the edges of my consciousness, yet I couldn't quite put my finger on it. I was intrigued but still unsure where he was going with this.

"Let me clarify further," David said gently, sensing my need for understanding. "There are relationships where one person takes on a caregiver role, while the other adopts a more youthful or 'little' persona. It is a consensual and legitimate lifestyle choice for many." He paused, allowing me to absorb his words."It's called a caregiver/little dynamic. It's about providing a nurturing environment where one can express a more innocent and unburdened side of themselves."

My cheeks flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and intrigue as I processed what he was saying. "You think that I might... benefit from something like that?"

David's gaze softened, his piercing blue eyes radiating warmth and empathy. "I've noticed your attachment to Geoffrey and your dissatisfaction with your current role. My intention isn't to embarrass you, but to offer a supportive arrangement that could help you thrive."

A rush of emotions washed over me, leaving me feeling both exposed and relieved. Someone had finally seen the part of me I'd kept hidden for so long. Memories of countless hours spent seeking solace in childlike activities surfaced, making my breath hitch.

"I... I have always felt more at ease when I can let go of adult pressures," I admitted softly, my voice shaky yet sincere.

"There's nothing wrong with that," David assured me, his tone gentle yet firm. "It's about finding balance and happiness."

“Balance?”

“Of course. Candy, I have to confess that I’ve felt drawn to you ever since we first met. I felt this . . . irresistible urge to protect you. To nurture you.”

“You have?”

He nodded, a thoughtful expression on his face.

“I want to spoil you, too. Pamper you. Coddle you. I’m a Daddy Dom, Candy. Do you know what that is?”

I shook my head, trying not to feel totally lost.

"It's a role within the BDSM community that focuses on caring for and guiding a submissive partner in a nurturing manner. The dynamic involves trust, respect, and clear communicationbetween the Dominant, known as the Daddy, and the submissive, often referred to as the Little."

My mind raced, trying to process this new information. The term 'BDSM' had always seemed distant and mysterious to me, something reserved for darker desires and unknown territories. Yet here was David, speaking about it so openly and with such sincerity.

"As a Daddy Dom, my focus is on your well-being, both physical and emotional," David continued. "I want to create a safe space for you to explore your more vulnerable side, to embrace your inner Little without judgment or fear."

“W-would it be sexual?”

“That depends on you,” he replied, quick as a flash. “It definitely doesn’t need to be. And I would find a non-sexual caregiver/little relationship with you to be extremely fulfilling. But . . . if you want to explore that side eventually, I’d be open to it.”

My heart was now beating so hard it felt as though it was going to explode.

"Any arrangement between us," David continued, "would adhere to the principles of being safe, sane, and consensual. Ensuring that all interactions are without harm, activities are approached with sound mind and judgment, and both parties fully agree to all aspects of the arrangement. It's crucial that you feel comfortable and in control at all times."

“This is . . . a lot.”

“Of course. Remember," he began softly, "any participation in this dynamic is entirely your choice. I don't want you to feel pressured into something you're not comfortable with." He leaned back in his chair, folding his hands on the desk. "Take some time to think it over, do some research on your own. Establish clear boundaries and discuss expectations with yourself before deciding."

"Thank you for being so understanding," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper. "I will think about it."

“And don’t forget, if you don’t want to explore this, it won’t affect our relationship, or your job. Of course, you’d need to find a way to correct the mistakes that have been creeping into your work, but you’re smart—I’m sure that won’t be a problem. Or, of course, you might decide that a career change is what you need. You’d get an excellent reference from me, personally, so you’d walk into any other job you might like to try.”

“Thank you.”

“Think about it. Do some research. When you’re ready, let me know. And rest assured, you’re not trapped. Far from it.”

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