Page 97 of Dirty Discipline, Vol. 2

“I…I…I’m sorry…you didn’t do…anything.” I kept hiccupping between words, my breath catching, my nose a congested mess. “I didn’t mean to fall…apart.”

“Shh, my sweet boy. You should never apologize for feeling.” He stepped back, and I immediately felt his loss until I figured out he was going to scoop me up into his arms.

I snuggled in close, loving the feel of him, the scent of him, the kindness pouring off him as he carried me to my bedroom and set me on my bed. “Stay here, sweet boy. Let Daddy take care of you.”

“Yes, Daddy. I’ll stay here.” I sat on the bed as he walked out of the room. He came back with a wet washcloth and a towel.

“Let’s get you cleaned up and then we can play.” He took the washcloth and gently wiped the tears from my face.

“Play?” I loved the idea of playing, but I wanted to be sure I understood what kind of playing he meant. I was down for playing with Daddy if he meant adult fun without clothing or if he meant bringing out the board game and toy cars. Either way, it would give me more of the reassurance I seemed to need more than my next breath.

“You can even go first.” He rubbed a small circle on my back. “Want to change clothes?”

I’d told him how much I adored wearing my one-piece pajamas with a moose on them and how it made me feel special.

“My moose?” I asked, just to make sure we were on the same page.

“If you want.”

Oh, I wanted. I very much wanted.

“I’ll be right back.” Had we been together longer or established more rules, I’d have invited him to help me get dressed, but this was still new for us, even if the emotions already were running high and deep. Maybe I was rushing things—or we both were, but I wasn’t about to slow down. Not when everything felt so right.

I raced into my bedroom and threw on my jams. I looked adorable in them, but, more importantly, I felt adorable in them.

“I’m ready to play.” I shoved my hands in the pockets of my outfit, the ones that made it a no-brainer to buy them in the first place, and waited for Daddy to tell me what to do next.

“What would you like to play today?” He stepped close and held his hand out for me, and I grabbed it. Daddy’s hand was a thousand times better than a pocket—maybe ten thousand times better, even.

“Wanna build?” I had a new plastic brick set that made a castle that I’d been wanting to put together. It just didn’t feel right doing it alone, and today I wouldn’t have to.

“Absolutely.” He kissed the top of my head. “Where is it, and I’ll grab it?”

I told him which shelf it was on and sat by my coffee table. That wasn’t the ideal place to build larger projects, but sitting on the floor when I was trying to get into my middle space worked far better than sitting at the counter or the small cafe table I used as my kitchen table.

He came back with the castle but also with one of my notebooks. It was still wrapped in plastic and had a panda bear on the cover.

“Is this the set?”

I nodded, and he set it down on the coffee table. He took a seat across from me and tapped the cover of the notebook. “Did you have something special planned for this?”

For a few seconds, I thought about how to answer it. When I first put it in my cart at the discount store, I had planned to use it for writing lines. A good boy would be honest about that, but I didn’t want to upset Marco. He didn’t love the recitations I’d been doing the day my apartment was raining.

“I bought it when I was still writing the sentence that made you sad.” I went for full-on honesty. Any less wouldn’t be fair to either of us.

“I see.” He tore the plastic open and took out the notebook. “So this brand-new notebook was not given to you?” The implication being from another daddy, and I shook my head no in reply. “Then I think it’s the perfect one for you to start now.”

“You have lines for me?” I wasn’t completely sure why that excited me so much, but it did.

“I do.” He slid the notebook over to me. “Every time you are feeling like you are not good enough or are second-guessing yourself in any way, I want you to write ‘I am Daddy’s good boy.’”

“But what if I’m not?” I didn’t want to lie in my lines. That would defeat the entire purpose.

“Riggs, if you are listening to your daddy, then you are by default being a good boy.”

“Yes, Daddy.” I hugged the book close to me. Maybe I was his good boy after all.

Chapter 8

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