Page 8 of Strict Daddy

As I dressed, I caught sight of my reflection in the mirror. There was a new light in my eyes, a glimmer of determination that had been absent for far too long. I held my own gaze, straightening my shoulders.

I navigated the hallways until I found myself standing before Byron's office door, the frosted glass revealing little of what lay beyond.

I raised my hand to knock, hesitating for a breath. The memory of my shower fantasies flooded back, sending a flush crawling up my neck. I pushed the thoughts aside, chastising myself for my foolishness. I rapped my knuckles against the door, the sound echoing in the quiet space.

"Come in," Byron's voice beckoned, the rich timbre sending shivers racing down my spine. I turned the handle and stepped inside, the room revealing a surprisingly warm and welcoming atmosphere. The walls were lined with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, housing an impressive array of textbooks on fitness, philosophy, and psychology, as well as a smattering of more esoteric subjects. Glossy magazines, adorned with impossibly toned bodies and airbrushed models, marked his territory as a dedicated personal trainer.

Byron rose from behind his polished wooden desk, his tall frame unfolding with fluid grace. He gestured for me to take a seat, his blue eyes meeting mine with an inscrutable expression. "I trust you had time to refresh yourself," he said, the words more statement than question.

I nodded, not quite trusting my voice as I lowered myself into the chair opposite him. There was something about being in his presence that made me feel both exposed and exhilarated, as ifhe could see straight through to the heart of me. I clasped my hands in my lap, trying to still their trembling.

"I did," I managed, my voice emerging softer than I intended. "Thank you for . . . for everything, really. The workout, the encouragement, the opportunity to-"

He held up a hand, silencing my nervous rambling. "You don't need to thank me, Poppy. This is a partnership. I'm here to guide you, to push you, to help you become the best version of yourself. But the hard work, the dedication, the strength? That all comes from you."

I ducked my head, unaccustomed to such praise. "I'm not sure I have that kind of strength," I confessed, giving voice to the doubts that had plagued me for as long as I could remember.

"You do," Byron said simply, the certainty in his tone brooking no argument. "You just need someone to help you find it."

He leaned back in his chair, his gaze never leaving mine. "Which brings us to the reason for this meeting. If we're going to work together, truly work together, there are a few things we need to discuss..."

His penetrating gaze seemed to see right through me as he slid a thick document my way.

"This contract outlines the structure of my specialized program," Byron explained, his deep voice resonating through the room. "I think you'll find it quite comprehensive."

I began flipping through the pages, my eyes widening at some of the sections. This was no ordinary personal training agreement. Amidst the technical jargon about fitness goals and nutrition plans, there were whole paragraphs devoted to psychological techniques and unconventional methods I'd never heard of before. One header in particular caught my attention: "Age Play and Regression".

As I scanned the dense lines of text, certain phrases jumped out at me. "Regression techniques", "role-play scenarios","complete trust and surrender". My mind reeled trying to make sense of it all. What exactly was Byron proposing here?

I looked up at him, brow furrowed in confusion. "Byron, some of these terms are unfamiliar to me. What do you mean by 'regression techniques' and 'role-play scenarios'? How is that supposed to help me get in shape?"

He leaned forward, hands clasped on the smooth surface of the desk. There was an intensity in his eyes, but also a hint of reassurance. "The physical aspect is only one part of the transformation I offer, Poppy. To truly evolve, we must address the psychological barriers holding you back."

I bit my lip, trying to process his words. The idea of confronting my own insecurities was daunting. But there was something about Byron's quiet confidence that made me want to trust him, to place myself in his capable hands.

"I want to understand," I said softly, meeting his gaze. "But this is all so new to me. I'm not sure I'm ready for something so . . . radical."

Byron's eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that made my breath catch. He leaned forward, the polished wood of his desk gleaming between us.

"Poppy," he began, his deep voice sending a shiver down my spine, "my program integrates advanced psychological methods to help clients break down emotional barriers."

I shifted in my seat, hyper-aware of his gaze. "What kind of methods?" I asked softly.

"As you’ve read in the contract, one such method is age play—a form of role-play where you adopt a younger persona in a safe, controlled environment," he explained. "This can help you reconnect with your authentic self, heal past wounds, and rebuild self-esteem."

My cheeks flushed hot at his words. Age play? It sounded so . . . intimate. I swallowed hard, trying to process what he was saying.

Byron continued, his tone gentle but firm. "Many adults carry burdens from their past - doubts, fears, insecurities—that originated in their earlier years. By engaging in age play, you can explore those feelings with guidance, allowing you to address and release them."

I listened intently, my mind racing. Could this really help me overcome my insecurities? The idea was both thrilling and terrifying. My childhood had been difficult. I’d lost me Mom early on, and—because of my dad’s alcohol issues—had to act like a guardian to me kid sister. It felt crazy that Byron could have somehow realized that I had those kind of issues, though.

"It's a way to nurture your inner child, fostering self-love and acceptance," Byron added. His blue eyes seemed to see right through me. "This practice isn't about losing maturity or responsibility. Instead, it's about gaining a deeper understanding of yourself, which can empower you to make lasting changes in your life."

I took a shaky breath, overwhelmed by the possibilities. "I . . . I don't know what to say," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

Byron's expression softened. "It's a lot to take in, I know. Take your time to process it." Byron's lips curved into a gentle smile, his eyes softening. "It's natural to feel hesitant, Poppy. The key is that you're in control at all times. We'll establish boundaries and communicate openly throughout the process."

I felt a flutter in my chest at his reassuring tone. His presence was both intimidating and comforting, like a storm that could either destroy or nourish.

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