I nod in response, but even as I do, I wonder who is going to normalize it for me.
“Can I, uh, call you if things feel like they’re getting out of hand?”
“Of course,” Jack says.
“Absolutely,” Warrin choruses.
“Thanks. I know this has to happen. I need it as much as she does. But I don’t know how I’m going to feel about it.”
“It’s the unknown that’s the worst,” Warrin says. “Once you’ve done a couple of punishments, you’ll worry less. A little worry’s a good thing, though. Keeps you focused.”
“It’s when punishments become routine that you really have to worry,” Jack says. “That means something’s broken. I’m strict with Sammi and he earns more punishments than most, but even so, I’d be concerned about our dynamic if I was punishing him more than every few days. I’d take it as a sign he felt I was ignoring his needs, and he was seeking bad attention because he couldn’t get good attention.”
“That’s something to watch for,” Warrin echoes. “I don’t know what Cynnie’s relationships have been like. Her last daddy didn’t come to playgroup. I think they had a long-distance thing. But she could be attention-starved and willing to accept bad attention if she doesn’t feel she can get good attention.”
“Or worthy of good attention,” Jack interjects. “I met Cynnie’s daddy, Isaac. I use the term ‘daddy’ loosely. The only thing daddy-ish about him was that he’s twice her age. He didn’t play with her or nurture her. He was just all about the spankings. She got spanked three times during one play party we went to, and an orgasm after every spanking. If she associates punishment with spankings and spankings with orgasms, she may seek negative attention, consciously or not. You have to nip that in the bud.”
Warrin nods vigorously. “If she wants spankings, make them part of play, not part of discipline.”
“I, uh, I’ve been doing them during sex,” I whisper, hoping none of the families strolling nearby can hear me.
“Nothing wrong with that,” Warrin says.
“Give yourself space to explore,” Jack says, and I’m reminded of DirtyGurl’s advice. “Spanking can take a lot of different forms. Sammi gets spanked mostly as punishment, but I also spank him before big scenes to warm him up. Find what works for you and Cynnie.”
“What if I do something she hates?” I ask, voicing my persistent fear.
Warrin chuckles. “Apologize and move on.”
Jack gives me a purely evil grin. “Make a note of it in your daddy diary and save it for the next time she does something that pisses you off so bad you can’t see straight, then trot it out. Punishments aren’t supposed to be fun. They’re a deterrent. Use the shit she hates. You’ll punish her a lot less often.”
Some of the weight tightening my shoulders falls away; that’s not only intuitive, but it appeals to my sense of fairness. I don’t want to get caught in a cycle of misbehavior and punishment with Cynnie. I’d much rather reward her than punish her. I get that being a daddy isn’t all fun and games. This is the harder part—setting boundaries and enforcing them—but I’ve seen how happy Emily is within Logan’s boundaries. I want the same thing for Cynnie and me.
Warrin shifts the bags he’s carrying to one hand and wraps his free arm around my shoulders. “That’s it, man. Take it easy. Littles pick up on our moods waaay too easily. If you’re tied up in knots, she will be, too.”
“Incoming,” Jack warns.
sixteen
Warrinand I turn in time to see Cynnie and Aggie running down the path at us, hand-in-hand.
Warrin lowers the bags he’s holding to the asphalt so he can scoop Aggie up in his arms when she collides with him at nearly full speed. He doesn’t even rock back a step. I’m used to being around military men, most of whom are in serious shape, but Warrin takes it to another level.
“You were goneforever,baba,” Aggie complains.
“Sorry, sweets. You ready for a big picnic?”
Aggie wraps her legs around Warrin’s waist and bounces in his arms excitedly. “Yes!”
Cynnie eases up to me with more restraint. She offers to take some of the bags I’m carrying, but I decide I like Warrin’s approach better. I lower the bags to the sidewalk, grab Cynnie around the waist, and pull her up onto my chest. She giggles wildly and wraps her arms around my neck.
I lower my face to hers and nibble from her ear down her neck. She doesn’t need to play ugly games to get attention, and I want to make sure she knows it.
“I know someone I’d rather eat than all this food,” I growl to her.
She squeals and wriggles in my arms. “You can’t eat me. I taste bad.”
I take another nibble. “Mmm. Sweeter than honey.”
