Page 54 of Enforcer Daddy
"I created this for a friend in the lifestyle," she explained, pulling out different colored pens from Alexei's drawer like she owned it, which I supposed she did in every way that mattered. "Most contracts you find online are cold, clinical. All rulesand punishments, no warmth. But DDlg isn't just about power exchange—it's about care. It’s not exactly like the one we used, but I really like it."
The template reflected that philosophy. Where I'd expected harsh legalese, I found sections titled "Mutual Responsibilities" and "Growth Goals" and "Comfort Protocols." It was comprehensive but gentle, protective without being restrictive.
"We'll customize everything," Clara continued, uncapping a purple pen. "This is just the framework. Your dynamic with—" She paused, respecting my need for anonymity. "With your Little will be unique."
My Little. The possessive made my chest tight with want.
"Five core rules to start," Alexei said, business-mode activated. "You can add more later, but beginning with too many overwhelms them."
"Three?" I looked at Clara skeptically. "You follow dozens now."
“Five rules are easy. No self-harm including food denial, no running without permission, honest communication about needs, respect for safewords, and daily check-ins.” I said without hesitation.”
“These are excellent,” Alexei said with respect. “They're about safety and connection, not arbitrary control."
"She'll break them," I said, certainty absolute. "She'll test every single one, probably within the first day."
"Of course she will," Alexei said, like this was expected, even desired. "That's how Littles learn you'll enforce boundaries. The testing isn't defiance—it's seeking security. They need to know the rules are real, that you care enough to maintain them even when it's difficult."
Clara nodded, adding her perspective. "When I broke rules initially, I was terrified Alexei would either give up or become violent. When he did neither—when he punished meappropriately then provided aftercare—that's when I started to trust."
"Speaking of punishment," I said, moving to the next section. "How do you differentiate between funishment and actual discipline?"
The question had plagued my research. Some punishments would clearly arouse Eva—that was the reason I’d suggested corner time instead of spanking today.
"Funishment is for minor infractions," Alexei explained, his tone taking on that teaching quality he used when explaining bratva business to new recruits. "Bratty behavior, small defiances, testing boundaries playfully. Spankings she'll enjoy, orgasm denial that builds anticipation, minor restrictions that create tension. It's punishment that enhances the dynamic."
"But real discipline," Clara added, her voice serious, "that's different. That's for dangerous behavior, for violations of hard limits, for things that could cause actual harm. It should never be enjoyable for either party."
"What kind of discipline?" I asked, thinking of Eva's self-destructive tendencies, her willingness to endanger herself rather than ask for help.
"Cold showers," Clara suggested, writing as she spoke. "Corner time without stimulation. Writing lines—though keep them appropriate to her education level. Essay assignments about why the behavior was dangerous. Temporary privilege removal—books, TV, treats."
"No food restriction," I said firmly. "She's already too thin. She’s had some struggles with not having enough food in the past."
"Absolutely not," Clara agreed, making a note. "Food should never be withheld as punishment. Meals are care, not currency."
We worked through each punishment carefully, scaling them to offenses, always including aftercare requirements. Clarainsisted on adding a section about punishment headspace—how to recognize when someone was too emotional for discipline, when to postpone consequences until they could be received properly.
"Aftercare isn't optional," she said, underlining the section twice. "Even when you're angry, even when the offense was serious. Aftercare reestablishes connection, reminds them they're valued despite their mistakes."
I thought about Eva this morning, alone with her punishment, no aftercare because I'd left for this meeting. The guilt sat heavy in my stomach—I'd have to make that right when I returned.
"Duration," Alexei said, moving to one of the final sections. "This is crucial. Too short and it feels unimportant. Too long and it becomes a prison."
"Permanent," I said immediately, then caught their twin expressions of concern. "What? If she's mine, she's mine forever."
"That's romantic," Clara said gently, "but impractical for a first contract. You need room to renegotiate, to adjust as you both learn. Permanence comes later, after you've proven the dynamic works."
"Thirty days initially," Alexei suggested.
"Too short." The thought of only having Eva officially for a month made something in my chest seize. "She needs longer to trust, to settle, to stop running."
"Ninety days then," Clara compromised, writing before I could protest. "With automatic renewal unless either party objects. It's long enough to establish rhythm but short enough not to feel trapped."
I wanted to argue, wanted to insist on forever, but they were right. Eva needed an exit strategy or she'd never sign. The illusion of freedom would paradoxically make her more likely to stay.
We added sections about medical care—I'd have the right to schedule doctor appointments, ensure medication compliance if needed. Financial responsibilities—I'd provide everything, she'd want for nothing. Conflict resolution—mandatory cooling-off periods, structured discussion protocols, safewords that worked outside scenes too.
