15. Bodie
Bodie
Henry thinks I’m his obedient Little.
He’s got another thing coming.
I can’t be this close to the water and not feel it on my skin…
The shack’s too small, the air too thick, the walls too dark. I’m curled up on the sagging couch, Poot and Billy squished against my chest, their soft fur grounding me as my heart races.
That kiss with Henry—God, it was like a wave crashing over me, fierce and wild, pulling me under until I couldn’t breathe. His lips, his hands, the way he held me like I was his… it’s got my head spinning, my Little side humming, and my grown-up side freaking out.
I want to lean into it, to let myself fall for his big, bossy Daddy vibes, but fear’s clawing at me, whispering that he could be another Vince—charming at first, then a snake ready to strike.
Kiss or no kiss—and it was a great kiss—I’m still wary.
I glance at Henry, hunched over his laptop at the rickety kitchen table, his face lit by the screen’s glow.
Henry’s jaw’s is tight, and he’s all focus, typing fast like he’s decoding the secrets of the universe. I mean, I’m cool with it. He’s probably talking to his Guard friend, planning how to keep me alive while Vince’s mercenaries hunt me down...
The thought of Vince—his green eyes, his mocking smirk—makes my stomach twist. I hug Billy tighter, his cool sunglasses digging into my palm.
Henry’s not Vince, I know that. He bought me my little ducky stuffy, listened to my Little side without laughing, and knows how to spank and care for me afterward too… but trusting him feels like stepping off a cliff. What if I fall, and there’s no one to catch me?
My eyes drift to the window, the ocean’s shimmer calling me like it always does.
The waves are out there, rolling in, promising freedom, the one place where I’m untouchable.
Surfing’s my escape, my safe space before Vince tainted it with his fake comps and dirty money. I need that feeling back—the rush, the salt on my skin, the world shrinking to just me and the water.
Henry’s rules, his lockdown, it’s like a wetsuit two sizes too small, squeezing me until I can’t breathe. I’m not his prisoner, no matter how much my Little side likes his “Little One” nickname or the way his lips felt on mine.
I shift on the couch, my sneakers scuffing the floor, and Henry doesn’t look up, too lost in his laptop. My surfboard’s still strapped to Shred’s roof, just outside, taunting me…
Just do it.
You won’t get caught.
Well, not until it’s too late…
The waves sound perfect, a steady rhythm that’s practically begging me to paddle out.
I bite my lip, my heart thumping.
Henry said no surfing, no wandering, but I’m not some kid he can cage. I need this—one quick sesh to feel like me again, to wash away Vince’s shadow and that kiss that’s got me all messed up.
“Okay, Poot, Billy,” I whisper, tucking them under a cushion like they’re in on my plan. “Don’t rat me out, alright?”
My Little side giggles, but my surfer boy side’s already moving, quiet and careful. I ease off the couch, my eyes on Henry, still glued to his screen.
The shack’s door is just a few steps away, and Shred’s parked right outside, under that tarp. If I’m quick, I can grab my board and hit the beach before he notices.
Call me crazy, but I think this might just work…
I tiptoe across the creaky floor, holding my breath as a board groans under my weight. Henry doesn’t flinch, his fingers still flying over the keys. My pulse races, half from the thrill of sneaking out, half from the fear of getting caught.
I slip through the door, quiet as a mouse, the cool air hitting me like a hug, the ocean’s hum louder now.
Shred’s right there, my trusty van, and I climb onto the roof, my hands steady as I untie the straps holding my board. The knots are tight, but I’ve done this a million times, and the board slides free, smooth and familiar in my grip.
“That’s it, come to Bodie,” I giggle, feeling like a naughty little mischief maker and loving every second of it.
I hop down, my sneakers soft on the sand, and glance back at the shack.
No Henry, no lights flicking on.
I’m clear.
The beach is just a short sprint away, the waves glinting under the moon, looking seriously good—clean, crisp, maybe six-footers, perfect for carving.
My heart leaps, and I’m already running, shoes off, the board under my arm, the sand cool under my feet.
This is it—freedom, the real kind, not some fantasy of trusting Henry or hoping Vince forgets me.
I stop at the water’s edge, the tide lapping at my toes, and my mind flashes back to my first year in senior surf comps, when I was nineteen and untouchable…
I’d ditched college, my parents’ dreams, and hit the coast with Shred, chasing waves from Santa Cruz to San Diego.
That first comp in Coral Beach was everything—paddling out at dawn, the crowd roaring, my board slicing through a ten-footer like it was born for it. I felt alive, like the ocean was part of me, every wave a pulse in my veins.
I placed third, not bad for a rookie, and celebrated with cheap beers and bonfires, laughing with other surfers who got it, who lived for the same rush. That was before Vince, before his lies and his ledger, when surfing was pure, and I was free…
I want that back.
I need it.
Vince’s taken too much—my trust, my safe space, my van for his dirty deals. I’m done letting him win. The waves are right there, calling, and I’m not waiting for Henry’s permission.
I strip off my oversized tee and jeans, tossing them onto the sand, leaving me in my briefs and nothing else. It’s not a wetsuit, far from it in fact. But it’ll do for a quick sesh. The water’s gonna be cold, but I don’t care—I need to feel alive again.
I’m about to run into the surf, my board tucked under my arm, when a heavy hand lands on my shoulder. My heart lurches, and I spin around, expecting the worst—Vince, one of his goons, a gun in my face.
But it’s Henry, his dark eyes blazing, his jaw so tight I can see the muscle twitch. He’s pissed, and my stomach drops, my Little side shrinking, ready for a lecture or worse, another spanking.
“Henry, I…” I start, my voice shaky, clutching my board like a shield.
“What the hell, Bodie?” Henry growls, his voice low but sharp, like a blade. “I told you to stay inside. You think this is a game? Sneaking out, half-naked, with Vince’s assholes out there?”
I flinch, my cheeks burning, but I lift my chin, defiance kicking in.
“I need this, Henry!” I protest. “You don’t get it—the ocean’s my safe place, not some stuffy shack! I can’t just sit there, waiting for you to save me!”
Henry’s eyes narrow, searching mine, and for a second, I’m sure he’s gonna drag me back, lock me down. But then his face softens, just a fraction, and he sighs, scrubbing a hand over his scar.
“Alright, Little One,” Henry says, his voice still firm but warmer. “You can surf. But I’m keeping watch. You stay where I can see you, and you come in when I say. Got it?”
My jaw drops, relief flooding me so fast I almost drop my board.
“Really?” I say, my voice small, my Little side peeking out. “You’re not mad?”
“I’m mad as hell,” Henry says, but there’s a flicker of a smile, his Daddy side showing through. “But I get it. You need your waves. Just don’t make me regret this.”
Before I can stop myself, the words slip out, soft and instinctive…
“Thank you, Daddy.” I say.
My face flames, and I turn, sprinting into the water before he can respond, my board slapping the surface as I dive in.
The first splash of cold water hits me, sharp and alive, and I laugh, a real, giddy sound that bubbles up from my core. I’m free, the ocean wrapping around me like a hug, washing away the fear, the kiss, everything.
I paddle out, the waves rocking me, my board steady under my hands.
The water’s chilly, seeping through my briefs so much they may as well not be there, but it’s perfect, waking every nerve.
I glance back at the shore, where Henry’s standing, arms crossed, his silhouette strong against the moonlight. He’s watching, like he promised, and my heart does a stupid flip.
I called Henry Daddy, and he didn’t flinch, didn’t mock me.
And he’s letting me surf, even after I broke his rules.
That’s not Vince. That’s… something else.
The first wave comes, a clean six-footer, and I’m on it, popping up on my board, my body moving like it always does, pure muscle memory.
The water roars under me, the wind stinging my face, and I carve left, then right, riding the curve like I’m flying. It’s just me and the wave, no Vince, no mercenaries, no complicated feelings about Henry.
I’m nineteen again, untouchable, the ocean mine.
I whoop, the sound lost in the crash of water, and for a moment, everything’s right.
I ride three more waves, each one better than the last, my body loose, my heart pounding with joy.
But I keep Henry in my peripheral sight, his figure a steady anchor on the shore.
Henry’s not moving, just watching, and it makes me feel… safe.
Not caged, but protected, like he’s got my back even when I’m out here, doing my thing. I paddle back toward shore, the cold starting to bite, my flimsy briefs clinging to me like a second skin...
I’m shivering but grinning, my Little side and surfer boy side both buzzing, alive in a way I haven’t felt in weeks.
I haul my board out of the water, my feet sinking into the sand, and Henry’s still there, his eyes locked on me. I expect a lecture, but he just nods, his face unreadable.
“Good, um, sesh ?” Henry asks, his voice low, that Daddy edge making my cheeks flush again.
“The best,” I say, breathless, dripping wet, my nipples stiffening as the breeze hits. I catch Henry’s eyes wander over my body, hungry like a wolf, but he does the gentlemanly things and averts his gaze. “Thanks… for letting me.”
I don’t say Daddy again, but it’s there, hanging between us, and my heart races, wondering if he heard it the first time, if it meant anything to him.
“Put this on,” Henry says, tossing me his jacket from the sand. “We’re heading back. And no more sneaking out, Little One. Next time, you ask. Or face the consequences…”
I nod, wrapping his jacket around me, the warmth and his scent—leather, salt, him—making my head spin.
As we walk back to Shred, my board under my arm, I feel the ocean’s pulse still in me, but also something new—a trust in Henry that’s growing.
Vince’s out there, but with Henry watching my back, I feel like I can face it.
Maybe even face whatever’s sparking between us, if I’m brave enough to try…