Chapter Seventeen
Kyle
Arizona
Two more hours had gone by in the van after their short exchange about the future stops to California.
Kyle felt the distance grow, an unspoken tension hanging in the air when Daddy Benson had returned to the roller rink.
It wasn’t just the physical space between them—it was the silence.
The kind that pressed in from all sides, making the air feel heavier than it should.
Daddy Benson hadn’t touched him once since they left the rink.
No hand on his thigh, no brush of fingers against his wrist, not even a glance that lingered long enough to mean something. And that absence? It gnawed at Kyle.
What scared him more was the way Daddy Benson had completely dodged the Andy thing.
No comment about the beer, no teasing about Kyle’s awkward apology, no mention of the guy at all.
It was like the whole incident had been erased.
And that terrified Kyle. Because it wasn’t just about Andy—it was their first real fight.
And Daddy Benson wasn’t talking about it.
Kyle kept replaying it in his head. The moment Daddy Benson saw him sitting with Andy— the way Daddy Benson’s eyes had narrowed when he came back was pure disapproval of the incident.
He hadn’t meant to disobey. He just felt bad.
Andy looked embarrassed, and Kyle had wanted to make it right.
A beer felt harmless. But now, sitting in the van with Daddy Benson gripping the wheel like it was the only thing keeping him from unraveling, Kyle realized he had done something wrong to lose favor with Daddy Benson.
“Are you pissed about me buying Andy a beer?” Kyle squeaked.
Daddy Benson pulled the van over with a sharp jerk, the tires crunching against gravel.
He didn’t say anything at first—just turned off the engine and stared out the windshield like he was trying to calm something down inside himself.
Kyle sat stiff in the passenger seat, heart thudding, already regretting asking if Daddy Benson was mad.
Then Daddy Benson turned to him, jaw tight. “You disobeyed me,” he said, voice low but sharp. “I told you to stay on the rink while I was outside. You didn’t.”
Kyle swallowed hard. “I didn’t think it was a big deal. I felt bad for knocking the guy down. I just bought him a beer.”
“You didn’t think,” Daddy Benson snapped. “That’s the problem.”
Kyle’s chest tightened. He wanted to reach out, to touch Daddy Benson’s arm, but something held him back. Maybe fear. Maybe guilt. “I should’ve let you sit when you came back,” he said quietly. “I didn’t mean to make you feel…pushed aside, but aren’t you overreacting?”
Daddy Benson’s eyes flashed. “It’s not about the damn seat, Kyle. It’s about you not taking your safety seriously. And you sit there and think I’m overreacting?”
“I never thought about that, not once.” Kyle knew Daddy Benson was right because he had seen a car following them but was too afraid to mention it. He knew Daddy Benson had switched vehicles, hoping the new one would help them escape the danger.
“The real problem is that you didn’t listen to me.
You think this is all about just skating, flirting, and drinking beers with a stranger?
I’m not upset with all of that, but I’m upset you hampered me in keeping you safe.
You have to listen to me. If you don’t, I can’t protect you.
When you don’t listen you’ll get a punishment, which you will get when I calm down. ”
Kyle’s stomach twisted. He hadn’t meant to make Daddy Benson upset over leaving the rink and drinking a beer with the guy he had knocked down. But he had forgotten Daddy Benson told him to stay skating while he stepped outside.
“That guy could’ve been a setup,” Daddy Benson continued, eyes flashing. “He could’ve dragged you out of that rink, thrown you in a van, and I wouldn’t have known until it was too late. You think I’m being dramatic? I’ve seen it happen. You’re not just some guy to me, Kyle. You’re mine to protect.”
Kyle felt the words hit like punches. Not because they were cruel, but because they were true.
He hadn’t thought about any of that. For the first time, Kyle realized how much Daddy Benson cared just to keep him safe.
Kyle never had anyone who cared deeply for him, like the warmth he felt from Daddy Benson.
And now he’d hurt him. Hurt the man who’d stood by him, helped him, loved him.
His tears sprinkled down his cheeks. He turned his face toward the window, trying to hide it, but his body betrayed him—shoulders shaking, breath hitching.
He felt stupid. Exposed. But more than anything, he felt devastated.
Because Daddy Benson hadn’t kissed him. Hadn’t touched him.
Hadn’t talked about Andy. And now he was yelling—not because he was angry, but because Kyle had made him feel helpless.
Kyle wiped his face with the sleeve of his hoodie, voice barely a whisper. “I didn’t mean to ignore you. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
Daddy Benson didn’t say anything right away.
But the silence this time felt different.
Not cold—just heavy with everything they hadn’t said yet.
Daddy Benson just sat there, breathing hard, hands gripping the steering wheel like he needed it to stay grounded.
Kyle wiped his face again, but the tears kept coming, slow and quiet.
He hated crying in front of people—especially Daddy Benson.
But this wasn’t about pride anymore. It was about how deeply he’d messed up.
Finally, Daddy Benson turned toward him, voice softer now. “I’m not angry because you bought the guy a beer, Kyle. I’m angry because you didn’t think about what could’ve happened.”
Kyle nodded, eyes still wet. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like I don’t trust you. I do. More than anyone.”
Daddy Benson sighed and reached over, resting a hand on Kyle’s knee.
“I know you didn’t mean it. But I need you to understand—when I say something, it’s not about control.
It’s about keeping you safe. I’ve seen what happens when people get careless.
I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you. ”
That broke something in Kyle. He let out a shaky breath, voice cracking. “I didn’t know I mattered that much to you.”
Daddy Benson looked at him like he couldn’t believe Kyle didn’t already know. “You’re not just some guy to me,” Daddy Benson said, voice cracking. “You’re mine to protect.”
And that was it. Kyle broke.
Kyle’s chest ached. Not from guilt anymore, but from how much he wanted to make things right. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’ll do better. I promise I’ll listen to you.”
Daddy Benson’s shoulders dropped, like the tension had finally started to bleed out. He turned his hand over and laced his fingers through Kyle’s, squeezing gently.
“I’m still here,” he said.”
Kyle nodded, tears slipping down again, but this time they felt different. Not hopeless, just raw. He leaned in, forehead resting against Daddy Benson’s shoulder, and his daddy didn’t pull away. He let him stay there, let him breathe, let him feel the warmth of being forgiven.
And in that quiet, Kyle knew they were going to be okay. Not perfect. Not untouched. But okay.
Daddy Benson gave his knee a gentle squeeze. “That’s all I ask.”
And just like that, the tension in the van shifted. It didn’t disappear, but it softened—like a storm that had passed, leaving behind quiet air and the promise of clearer skies.
Daddy Benson stopped in the parking lot of an adult shop.
“Follow me and don’t touch anything in there.” Daddy Benson’s voice was a low growl, tinged with exhaustion. Kyle walked along side of Daddy Benson. He’d been in stores like this in the city.
The first aisle in the store was taken up with DVDs, while the rest was dedicated to adult toys and clothing.
On display was a thrusting vibrator. The price tag was displayed, and he realized it was way out of his budget.
Piles of gleaming handcuffs and sturdy arm restraints lay scattered around on a table.
Another aisle had spanking implements hanging on a wall.
Daddy Benson stopped abruptly to examine the paddles and whips, and other mysterious things.
He finally settled on a bright red paddle.
Kyle was aware of why he would purchase a spanking instrument.
He still seemed grouchy, so he sure hoped he would wait before he paddled him.
Once he’d paid for the paddle, they made their way back out to the van.
“When are you going to punish me?”
“When it’s the right time.”
After another hour went by, Daddy Benson turned into a deserted side road and parked.
“Why are we stopping here?” Kyle asked.
Daddy Benson turned to Kyle. “You’re going to receive your punishment for disobeying me.”
“What’s my punishment?”
“Ten swats with my new red paddle.”
“Yes, Daddy Benson.” A chill crept over Kyle as he felt the blood abandon his face.
“If you can’t take the pain or need me stop, say red. Do you understand?”
Kyle nodded.
“I can’t hear you, Kyle.”
“Yes, sir.” Kyle had been disciplined by his last Daddy and at the group homes.
It wasn’t the pain that caused the fear, but something far worse.
Disappointing Daddy Benson made Kyle regret his actions.
How could he be so blind, failing to consider the pain his actions would cause the man he cherished?
“Go to the back.” Daddy Benson pointed to the back of the van. “Pull your jeans and jocks to your ankles, then bend over the foot of the bed.”
Kyle froze, stiffening in his seat, as he never wanted to disrespect Daddy Benson.
“Now!” Daddy Benson shouted.
Kyle got up and walked to the back of the van, dropped his jeans and jocks to his ankles, then bent over the bed. The act of bending over for Daddy Benson was scary and exciting all at once. He loved any attention to his ass from Daddy Benson.
It took Daddy some time to get to the back of the van with his paddle. He probably did this to make Kyle think of his mistake. It just made him anxious, wanting it to be over. He spun to face Daddy Benson and the paddle, its wooden surface reflecting the light.
“I’ve asked you to follow my orders and directions. Do you agree to listen?” He stood behind Kyle, watching him intently.
“Yes, sir. I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you the first time.”
“What are you being punished for?” Daddy Benson asked the reason for punishment before administering discipline. He told Kyle it had to do with another element of giving his consent in words.
“I didn’t listen to your order to stay skating on the rink while you went outside.” Kyle would never admit his trust level wasn’t where it should be. He promised himself he’d change that or try to. He would follow Daddy Benson’s orders from here on in. He’d almost lost the best thing in his life.
“Do you consent to ten swats with the paddle?” Daddy Benson asked.
“Yes, Daddy Benson.”
“If you can’t take it at any point, say red. Do you understand?” he repeated as if Kyle didn’t hear him the first time.
“Yes, Daddy Benson.” Kyle wanted Daddy Benson to start the spanking as he was tired of waiting.
Daddy Benson’s tone indicated he would make sure Kyle didn’t take any pleasure in it. Spanking as punishment wasn’t a playful foreplay spanking. Though Daddy Benson said he never used spanking as foreplay, he probably wanted Kyle to understand this was for discipline.
Kyle yelped as Daddy Benson’s paddle made a sharp, stinging impact on his cheeks. The pain shot through him as the stinging made him bite his lip. He wasn’t expecting the first one to be so intense. He continued the hard swats without stopping for a moment between each one.
Kyle swore each blow ripping into him caused his cock to grow more and his balls were begging to come.
He couldn’t remember the number of times Daddy Benson’s paddle had stung his backside.
During the non-stop smacking, a heated sting seeped into Kyle’s muscles.
Tears flooded his eyes; he wiped them away with the back of his hand.
His ass hurt so much, allowing him to forget what he was doing in here.
“You took your punishment well.”
“Damn that really hurt.”
“Pull up your jeans.”
“I’m sorry, Daddy Benson.” Kyle, in a rush, yanked up his jeans and secured the zipper.
“You deserve every bit of this pain, and you know it,” Daddy Benson said.
“Yes, sir.”