Page 45 of Chance's Choice
I watch Chance as he takes in the themed room I reserved for us, from the oversized mahogany desk and leather desk chair, to the matching leather three seater couch along the right side of the room, to the large imbedded screen on the wall which is designed to appear like a window, showing a view of a non-descript city beyond, as though the office that we’re standing in is situated in a high-rise building. The carpet beneath our feet is a dark forest green, and the walls are painted cream. It’s like an executive’s office from the late 80s or early 90s, the vibe authoritative and marginally imposing. On the far side of the room, behind the desk, there’s a door that leads to a little washroom, tiled in dark green, with a toilet and handbasin.
Chance turns to me with a corner of his lips lifting upwards. “Daddy’s bringing his boy to work tonight, huh?”
I love that he gets it immediately. Except I have a very specific scene in mind. “That’s the setup, yeah,” I tell him, and then I tell him the scene I have in mind. I can tell by the darkening of his eyes that he’s on board.
“Let’s get you dressed into your play clothes,” he says, taking the bag that’s currently slung over my shoulder. He unpacks it on the couch, setting aside the toys and crayons and paper I’d packed while I take off my adult clothes. Then he helps me into the training pants, shorts and t-shirt I packed yesterday, and I start to settle into my Little headspace.
“Very cute,” he declares once I’m all dressed to his satisfaction. The shorts are a soft, stretchy cotton-elastane blend in dark blue, and the shirt is a pale pink, decorated with blue text across my chest which reads ‘Daddy’s Boy’.
I beam at him. “Thank you, Daddy.”
Daddy presses a kiss to my forehead and his beard, grown out and soft, tickles my skin. Then he cups my cheek and smooths his thumb over my jaw, looking me in the eye. “Okay, now Daddy has some very important work to do, so I need you to sit over here in the playtime corner and entertain yourself quietly, okay?”
Already feeling kind of giddy, because we both know I’m not going to do that, I smile sweetly and nod. “Yes, Daddy. I be good.”
I’m not going to be good. I’m going to be naughty.
Up until now, we haven’t revisited spankings. Certainly not for fun. But after the week we’ve had, I can feel how desperately I need one. I don’t really feel like I need punishment, though. Between therapy and talking to Chance, I don’t pile as much guilt on myself as I used to. But I still feel a tiny bit responsible for the crap that’s happened, and a spanking will help me deal. I also feel like Chance might need to get his own frustrations out, not that I believe he blames me at all. But smacking something,someone, might be therapeutic.
More than that, though, I’d like us to experiment with spanking for sexual enjoyment.
So I’m going to push boundaries today with the intent on earning a light spanking, and I’m going to have fun doing it.
Chapter Twenty-One – Chance
Settling myself at the big, dark desk, I pull out my phone and decide to trawl through my emails while occasionally glancing over at Kade. Anticipation bubbles in my gut, and I’m curious to see how he’s going to play this.
I’m so damn proud of him for knowing that this is something he needs, and for asking for it. While I would have been happy to play with puppy Kade tonight, I have to admit that I’m curious to see what he’s like when he’s pushing boundaries in little space. He always was feisty when we were kids, demanding of my attention. I can’t wait to see how that manifests during this scene.
I lose myself in actual work for a little while, responding to emails and chasing down reports. I wind up getting so engrossed in actually working that I jump when Kade whines, “Daddy, I’m bored.”
Instinct tells me to put my phone down and go play with him, but he’s already told me that is not what he needs from me tonight. So, I sigh and set my phone down on the desk before I look over at him.
He’s sitting in the corner near the ‘window’, toy cars, crayons and paper strewn around him. He’s got his arms folded across his chest and he’s pouting at me.
“Kaden,” I aim for a tone of warning, “Daddy’s working.”
That plump bottom lip of his juts out further. “Work is boring,” he huffs.
It’s the cutest display of temper I’ve ever seen. I just want to kiss him stupid.
“It is,” I acknowledge, “but it’s necessary. Daddy needs to work so he can spoil his baby boy.”
Kade grizzles and picks up one of his cars, throwing it across the room. It hits the couch with athwack.
“Kaden,” I admonish. “We don’t throw toys.” I point at the car now lying upside down on the floor in front of the couch. “Pick it up and play nicely for a little longer.”
“Don’t wanna.”
“Kaden,” the warning is a bit more serious now. “This is your last chance. Go pick up your car and behave, or you’ll be going over my knee.”
He narrows his eyes at me, as though he’s considering his options, before he exhales loudly and stands up, stomping over to pick the car up as instructed.
So he’s in the mood to really push boundaries tonight, then.
Smothering a smile, I suggest, “Why don’t you do some drawing, baby? I’ll be finished soon.”
I half expect him to throw a tantrum, but he does as I ask. When he’s settled back in his little corner on his belly on the carpet, scribbling on the paper with his crayons and humming to himself, I force my attention back to my emails.
