Daddy, Sir (Dirty Daddies 2024 Anthology #6)

Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Lola

Three weeks. Three weeks of following Zeke’s rules all day, being spanked and cornered and made to write lines until my hand felt like it was going to fall off. Then being his spoiled babygirl at night with homemade dinners, movie marathons, sweet treats, luxurious baths—that he ran for me, then stepped out to let me soak, of course—before I finally gave in to my inner voice and reminded him that while his neverending list of rules really was helping me in ways I hadn’t expected, none of that was the reason I’d showed up at the club asking for help, And with all Zeke’s lectures about accountability, and forgiveness, I’d realized there was something I still needed to be forgiven for—something that would make this experience come full circle.

So as I sat across from him at dinner, wondering what kind of fun things he’d have to spoil me with after if I behaved, I brought it up at the end of a conversation about my progress and how pleased he was that I seemed to be having a much easier time following his rules, and thriving throughout the process.

“Zeke… I mean, Daddy?”

“Yes, babygirl? What’s up? Penny for your thoughts?”

I smiled at the familiar turn of phrase. Zeke asked me that at least once a day. He always wanted to know what I was thinking. I liked that. I wondered if he’d regret it when he heard what I was thinking today.

I pushed my fork across my plate, dragging it through the leftover salad dressing, and forced myself to look up to meet his gaze. “I was thinking, Daddy, about how much you’ve helped me, and how you’re always talking about absolution from guilt and how powerful it can be to be punished and put things behind you.”

“Oh?” That was all he said, clearly waiting for me to continue.

“There’s something I still feel really guilty about. I’ve been trying to move past it on my own, but I can’t seem to. I think because of this…”I gestured between us,“it’s a lot more prevalent on my mind.”

“Do tell.” Zeke’s tone held not an ounce of censure, and that helped me have the courage to go on.

“I feel guilty about the way I acted as Archer’s client, and at the club afterward with Audrey.” My cheeks burned as I remembered how kind she’d been to me after I showed up at the club and asked for a second chance.

Zeke nodded. “I’ll admit, babygirl, I don’t know too much about all that. Why don’t you tell me what happened and why you still feel guilty about it?”

And so I did. Every excruciating detail. Byt the time I finished recounting the tale, my cheeks were hot with shame, and tears were tracking down my cheeks. But when I looked at Zeke all I saw was concern and a sad understanding.

“You know, the girl you just described is not at all the woman you’ve become, right?”

“Yes, Daddy.” I nodded because mostly, I did know that.

“But you still feel guilty about it?”

Again, I nodded.

“And you think being punished for it would help?”

“I… I think so?” It had to, right? Nothing else seemed to, and I knew physical punishment could be powerful. I’d heard it, I’d seen it, I’d experienced it, I believed it.

“And you want me to be the one to punish you?” There was a tone in his voice that seemed to suggest someone else would be better, an idea that panicked me.

“It can only be you.” I didn't trust anyone else. I didn't trust myself with anyone else.

“Okay.” Zeke nodded. “Okay, I’ll punish you.”

“You… you will?” I squeaked. I wasn’t sure why I was so surprised.

“It won’t be an easy punishment, babygirl.”

“I know.” I paused a beat, suddenly self-conscious. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“I do. But not tonight. Tonight we are going to watch a movie and eat ice cream because you were such a good girl today.”

“Oh.” I was glad not have to give up what sounded like a nice evening, but confused by the delay. “When, then?”

“Tomorrow before dinner. After your therapist's appointment, so you can talk to her about it first.”

“Okay.” I smiled. The fact that Zeke had remembered my therapy appointment and considered it warmed my heart. It was just another reason he was the only one I’d trust with something like this.

As I sat there equally hopeful and dreading tomorrow, he stood and cleared the table, taking our dishes to the kitchen and loading the dishwasher like he always did. He still refused to let me help.

I secretly didn’t mind, but tonight I would have welcomed the distraction. Even washing dishes would have been better than thinking about what kind of punishment I was facing tomorrow.

Lola

“Tomorrow after dinner” came too fast and so slowly all at once. It had been on both our minds all day; I had seen it every time Zeke looked at me. By the time my appointment with Dr. Sara rolled around, I’d been hoping she’d tell me it was a bad idea, and to tell him she’d said so.

But I was pretty sure Dr. Sara had a sadistic streak, because she’d just raised both of her eyebrows, smirked, and said “be sure to let me know how that goes”.

When I came out of my room after the call ended, Zeke was waiting for me. The chair he always sat in when he spanked me had been dragged to the middle of the living room. My stomach sank when I saw it. This was real.

“What did Dr. Sara say?” he asked.

If I lied, this didn’t go any further. But it would compound the guilt rather than solve it. I sighed. “She said to let her know how it goes.”

He chortled. “I like her.”

“Yeah, so you’ve said.” I scowled because I was nervous, and he didn’t scold me for it like he usually would.

Instead he just sat in the chair, patted his lap, and called me over to him.

This was happening.

I took a deep breath and stood between his legs, waiting for him to order me to remove my jeans like he always did.

This time he did it for me, slowly pushing them down, then me over his lap. Once I was there,= and my bottom was bared, my panties resting just below the curve of my ass, he spoke. “Tell me why you asked for this punishment, babygirl.”

I had an answer ready. “Because I need to be punished for it for real. The guilt has been eating at me, especially now that I know better.”

“Good girl.” He paused a beat. “I’m especially proud of you for asking for a punishment for it. I know that couldn’t have been easy.”

His praise flooded me with warmth, all across my cheeks and chest and somewhere different. Somewhere lower. That was new. I pushed my thighs together.

“Thank you Daddy.”

“I’m going to give you a long, hard spanking with my hand, and then ten with my belt.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

He raised his hand, and the spanking began. It felt like any other he’d given, but occasionally when he lectured he’d recall details from the tale I’d told him the night before and follow it up with “my babygirl does not behave that way”. The worst was when he said “you didn’t know better, but you do now, so now you must do better”.

I took every swat, welcoming the absolution that came with the pain. Breathing it in and remembering that what my Daddy said was true. That wasn’t who I was anymore.

But Zeke was really good at what he did so he still reminded me what I was being punished for while reminding me that it was no longer who I was, that I’d grown past it. The result was a strange combination of shame-filled tears and great relief. When my bottom was red and hot and I was crying hard, he stopped spanking, and tapped my bottom.

“Get up babygirl. It’s time for Daddy’s belt.”

Those five words had me shaking as I stood. Zeke had never used a belt on me before. That he’d chosen to for this let me know he was taking it very seriously. I stood on shaking legs and let him walk me over to the couch and bend me over the arm of it.

I heard the whoosh of the leather through his belt loops and my throat went dry. Did I really want this? Did I need it to feel absolved? I was pretty sure the hand spanking he’d given me had been enough, but it didn't matter. I trusted Zeke.

“Daddy’s belt will always be used for big things. And treating others poorly for no good reason is always a big thing, okay?” His hand rubbed my lower back. “That’s not how my sweet babygirl behaves.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

His calmming words and the way he spoke them with such confidence eased my nerves, making me feel better. At least, until the leather lashed across my backside for the first time. The pain, a stripe of fire across my ass, hurt worse than I ever could have imagined.

But Zeke seemed to know that. “Stay in place,” he warned before I could even think about jumping up and throwing my hands back, or trying to get away. “I’m giving you ten lashes.”

I did as he’d demanded, because despite my most basic instincts, I wanted to please him.

So I counted, even though he hadn’t told me to, because it gave my brain something to focus on. “One,” I hissed.

His soft chuckle came from behind me and filled the air for a second before the leather lashed again. “Good, babygirl.”

“Two!”

Three, four, five. I was crying, my arms were shaking, I was panting, and I wanted to use my safeword more than I ever had before. But I didn't. Because I wanted this. And I needed to make my Daddy proud.

“Halfway there, babygirl.” Zeke paused long enough to rub my fire-licked ass.

“Yes, Daddy,” I said between gritted teeth.

His hand left my ass and I braced myself. The sixth lick whipped across the lower curve of my ass, and a fresh set of tears sprang to my eyes. I sucked in a breath and forced myself to work through the pain. “Six.”

“Good girl.”

The belt flew again. Seven. Eight. Nine,

“One more. This one is gonna be the worst.”

I didn't know how anything could be worse than any of the first nine, which had all been pretty awful, but he spoke the truth. When the belt lashed across my heated ass a final time, it hit harder and seemed to linger longer. It was all I could take. The pain and absolution hit at the same time, and I collapsed, sobbing against the arm of the couch, grabbing my ass as I cried as if I could wrap it up in a hug.

And then Zeke’s arms wrapped around me and pulled me up. He wrapped me tightly in his arms and carried me to the couch, where he sat me in his lap. And that’s when I felt it.

Zeke was hard. Through his jeans, his cock pressed into my aching ass. I stilled, rigid. What did it mean?

I reminded myself that I’d gotten wet during the earlier punishment and this wasn’t any different, but I couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that wrapped itself around me even as Zeke hugged me tightly, wiped my tears, and whispered words of paise.

Zeke was a great Daddy. I was getting so much out of this arrangement. I was going to be sad when it was over in a week. But Zeke would probably be relieved. He wasn’t getting anything out of it except a brat invading his home.

As that truth washed over me, the truth that I couldn't give him what he needed, the tears fell fresh, and Zeke hugged me harder. And because I didn't dare voice what I was thinking, I just let him.