Page 17 of Strict Daddy

His words had sent a shiver down my spine, a mix of anticipation and trust. I knew he had my best interests at heart. This cautious approach, this deliberate pace, had only deepened my faith in him.

But there was only so much a girl could take! I fancied him so much, and I wanted him to take control so badly, it was torture to be told, time and again, “Things will develop when the time is right.”

Everything else was heading in the right direction.

In our training sessions, I could feel the changes happening within me. My body grew stronger, muscles I never knew I had emerging beneath softening curves. Sweat glistened on my skin as I pushed through each rep, determined to meet the challenges Byron set before me.

"That's it, Poppy. Feel the burn, embrace it," he'd encourage, his deep voice resonating through me. "You're capable of so much more than you realize."

And I was starting to believe him. With each pound lifted, each minute longer on the treadmill, I felt a surge of pride. I was doing this—transforming not just my body but my whole self. Confidence bloomed within me like a flower turning towards the sun.

Byron's guidance went beyond the physical. He seemed to understand me on a level no one else ever had, seeing past my shyness to the strength within.

I’d spent some time in Littlespace with him, although I’d struggled to go deep. He was so caring and patient as I colored and giggled, but I still was finding it hard to connect with my younger self.

It wasn’t like I hadn’t tried. At home, I’d taken to sucking my paci when I was stressed, and had even bought a little stuffie to cuddle. But still, it felt like something was holding me back. Maybe I just needed to take things to the next level with Byron, so I could find a way to let go.

"You're doing amazing," he praised after a particularly grueling workout, his hand resting lightly on my shoulder. "I'm so proud of your dedication."

My heart raced as Byron's fingers brushed against my skin, the fleeting touch sending shivers down my spine. These moments had become more frequent—a lingering glance, a gentle hand on the small of my back as he corrected my form. Each one left me craving more, yearning to close the distance between us.

But I understood the need for caution. Byron was my trainer, my guide on this path of self-discovery. He’d made it clear that while he didn’t regret the blowjob, he also thought it might be dangerous if it happened too much, too quickly. He had a responsibility to maintain boundaries, to ensure my well-being both physically and emotionally. And yet, the growing connection between us was undeniable.

As we moved through the gym, I couldn't help but admire the way his muscles flexed beneath his tight shirt, the intensity in his eyes as he demonstrated a new exercise. He embodied strength and control, qualities I found myself increasingly drawn to.

"Let's try something different today," Byron suggested, leading me towards a set of heavy ropes. "This will challenge your endurance and mental toughness."

I eyed the ropes warily, intimidated by their thickness and length. But with a deep breath, I grabbed hold, determined to rise to the challenge.

"Remember, your mind will try to quit long before your body needs to," Byron reminded me, his voice low and encouraging. "Push past that mental barrier. Show yourself what you're truly capable of, Little one."

Gritting my teeth, I began to whip the ropes, my arms burning with each movement. Fatigue set in quickly, but I refused to give up. Byron's words echoed in my mind, urging me onward.

"Don't stop, Poppy. You've got this," he urged, his presence solid and reassuring beside me. "Prove to yourself how strong you are."

Tears stung my eyes as I continued to writhe and twist against the ropes, my body protesting with every pull. The world around us dissolved, leaving only the rhythmic slap of the ropes and the sound of our labored breathing.

It was too tough.

I pushed harder, my muscles screaming in protest. Sweat dripped down my forehead, stinging my eyes. The frustration built inside me as I felt my strength waning, convinced I was falling short of Byron's expectations. I bit my lip hard, trying desperately to hold back the tears of exasperation threatening to spill over.

Byron's keen eyes caught my distress. "Let's take a moment," he said gently, his hand coming to rest on my shoulder. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver through me, despite my exhaustion.

He guided me to a quiet corner of the gym, away from the clanging weights and whirring machines. "Breathe with me, Poppy," he instructed, his voice low and soothing. "In through your nose, out through your mouth."

I followed his lead, my chest heaving as I struggled to regain control. Byron's calm demeanor washed over me like a balm, and I felt my racing heart begin to slow.

"That's it, good girl," he murmured, his praise sending a flutter through my stomach. "You're doing so well. Focus on my voice."

As my breathing steadied, I felt a wave of gratitude for his attentiveness. How did he always know exactly what I needed?

"I'm sorry," I whispered, embarrassed by my near-breakdown. "I just... I wanted to be stronger for you."

Byron's blue eyes softened as he gazed at me. "Poppy, you're already strong. But strength isn't just physical. Let's work on building your mental resilience too."

He stood, offering me his hand. I took it, marveling at how small mine looked enveloped in his. "I'd like to incorporate some relaxation techniques into our routine," he explained. "Managing stress and emotions is just as crucial as physical training."

I nodded, eager to learn. "What did you have in mind?"

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