Page 24 of Daddy Enforcer
I treat all my jobs with the utmost professionalism and the reality is that I’m ready to lay my life on the line for all of my clients. Nothing is more important than the mission when you’re a Guard. But Billie’s got something extra that’s taking my approach to a new level, one I haven’t touched before.
I set my espresso down, my mind turning to a plan.
Billie’s brattiness—those tantrums, the sassy eye-rolls—it’s part of his charm, but it’s also a risk. If he pushes back at the wrong moment, like during an emergency, it could be dangerous.
I need to curb it, channel it, give him a reason to listen.
A “punishment pact” feels right. Clear rules, clear consequences, like the timeout and spankings, but formalized, so he knows what to expect.
It’ll help him feel secure, and if I’m honest, it’s what I crave too—being the one to guide him, to be his anchor. This is something that I know Cole and the other guys have investigated and put into place with their boys, but there’s no such thing as a one size fits all Little… Billie is unique, and he’ll need his own very unique plan too.
I pull out a notepad and jot down the basics: no snooping, no backtalk, immediate obedience in emergencies, and rewards for good behavior. Consequences for breaking the pact could range from timeouts to spankings, depending on the offense. It’s strict but fair, and I think he’ll respond to it, especially after last night.
And the more discipline Billie receives, the sterner and harder it will become too. The boy is strong, has resilience, and can handle way more than probably even he realizes. When it comes time to break out the paddle, I’ve got a feeling that he’s going to be more than up to the challenge of having his butt put to the test.
But that’s all in the future, right now I need to focus my thoughts on the present…
Billie stirs on the couch, his eyes fluttering open, and I set the notepad aside, watching as he stretches, the blanket slipping to reveal his tousled hair and sleepy smile.
“Morning, Daddy,” Billie mumbles, his voice soft and a little shy, like he’s testing the word in the light of day.
My chest tightens, and I fight to keep my expression neutral. Damn, that word does things to me.
“Morning, Little One,” I say, keeping my tone warm but firm. “Sleep okay?”
The darling boy nods, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.
“Yeah. That was… nice last night. The, um, cuddling and stuff,” Billie says, shyly.
His cheeks flush, and he looks away, like he’s embarrassed to admit it. I can tell he’s still processing, still figuring out what it means to feel Little. I want to talk to him about it, make sure he understands, but first, the pact…
“Come sit,” I say, nodding to the chair across from me. “We need to talk about something.” He shuffles over and plops down, his eyes sparking with curiosity. I slide the notepad toward him. “This is a punishment pact. Rules to keep you in line, curb that brattiness of yours. You’re a good boy at heart, Billie, but you need structure. This’ll help.”
He raises an eyebrow, scanning the list.
“A pact? Like, what, a contract?” Billie asks, his tone sassy, but there’s intrigue in his eyes, like he’s already half-in. “What if I don’t agree?”
“Then we’ll have a problem,” I say, leaning forward, my voice low. “You’ve been pushing boundaries since we got here—snooping, throwing tantrums. This pact sets clear rules and consequences. You follow it, you get rewards, like last night’s marshmallows. You break it, you face the music. Timeout, spanking, whatever fits. You in?”
Come on, boy.
You know this is the right thing.
You know this is what you want, that this is who you are…
Billie bites his lip, his eyes flickering with that mix of defiance and excitement I’m starting to recognize.
“Okay, fine,” Billie says, his voice soft but eager. “I’m in. But only if the rewards are good.”
Billie grins, and I can’t help but smile back.
Enforcing this feels right, like I’m giving him what he needs—and what I crave. Being his Daddy isn’t just about protection; it’s about helping him grow, and I’m all in.
“Good boy,” I say, standing to start breakfast. “Let’s get some food in you.”
I move to the stove, pulling out oats and a small bottle of maple syrup. Supplies are still low, but porridge with a touch of sweetness will do.
As the porridge simmers, I glance at Billie, who’s watching me with a curious tilt of his head.
