Page 18 of Strict Daddy

"Let's try a simple mindfulness exercise," Byron said, leading me to a yoga mat. "Sit comfortably and close your eyes."

I settled into a cross-legged position, my eyes fluttering shut. Byron's deep voice guided me. "Focus on your breath. Feel the air entering and leaving your body."

As I concentrated on my breathing, I felt the tension in my muscles begin to melt away. Byron's presence beside me was comforting, anchoring me to the moment.

"Now, bring your attention to each part of your body, starting with your toes," he instructed. "Notice any sensations without judgment."

I followed his directions, a sense of calm washing over me. When I finally opened my eyes, I felt refreshed and centered.

"That was . . . amazing," I breathed, looking up at Byron with wonder.

He smiled, a rare warmth lighting up his features. "I'm glad it helped. We'll make this a regular part of our sessions."

As we stood, I felt a surge of affection for this enigmatic man.

Suddenly, I felt calm. Confident. Like I could share how I really felt.

"Daddy, I . . . there's stuff I want to say to you," I stammered, feeling my cheeks flush. "But I've been too nervous."

His expression softened. "I understand, Poppy. And I’m ready to listen. Why don’t you come to my office, and we can talk? I’ve, uh, prepared it for you."

Curiosity piqued, I followed him to his office. When he opened the door, I gasped in surprise.

The room had been transformed into a cozy, inviting space. Soft pillows and blankets were strewn on the floor, inviting me to curl up and relax. There were soft toys and a chest full of jigsaws and books. The Little in my yelped with joy.

"What is this?" I breathed, taking in the scene before me.

Byron's voice was low and soothing. "I’ve been thinking about ways I can help you go deeper into Littlespace. This seemed like a good idea."

My heart raced with anticipation and trepidation in equal measure. A part of me longed to experience the freedom and safety it promised, to give myself over to Byron's care completely. But another part of me was terrified of losing control, especially with someone I was growing so close to.

"I..." I started to protest, but Byron placed a reassuring hand on my arm.

"Poppy, I won't pressure you to do anything you're uncomfortable with. I just want to help you explore the depths of your desires, and if that includes relinquishing control, I'll be here to catch you."

His words resonated with me, and I knew I could trust him. Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and let myself sink into the space he'd created.

A wave of calm washed over me as I allowed my mind to drift. I focused on my breathing, slow and steady, just as Byron had taught me. Images of my childhood flooded my mind—happy memories of playing with dolls in my room, oblivious to the world outside. I thought about the time before I’d lost my mom, before my dad descended into alcoholic chaos. It was a time when I’d been truly happy.

Gradually, I felt myself slipping further into the headspace, the cares of adulthood melting away. When I opened my eyes, the world looked different, softer and more inviting.

Byron knelt down in front of me, his blue eyes warm and understanding. "Hello, my little one," he said, his voice a low rumble that soothed my soul.

I shyly ducked my head, blushing despite myself. "Hello, Daddy."

He smiled and beckoned me forward with a finger. "That's my good girl. Come, let's play."

For hours, we lost ourselves in a world of make-believe and innocence. Byron guided me through a series of simple games and activities, each one designed to further immerse me in the role of his 'little'. I didn't think about our real-life dynamics or the gym or anything else.

As we finished a round of coloring, Byron set aside the crayons and looked at me with gentle eyes. "So, how is Little Poppy feeling?"

"Good," I mumbled, twirling a strand of hair around my finger. "Safe."

He smiled, and my heart melted. "I'm glad. Do you feel ready to talk now?"

I nodded, taking a deep breath. "I have strong feelings for you, Daddy. And I know you said we need to take things slow. But it feels like things aren’t moving at all. I’m worried you don’t feel the same as me.”

“Oh, baby,” he said, his expression softening further, “that was such a brave thing to ask. Don’t worry. I feel the same as you. I want to make sure that we build our relationship on trust and respect."

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