Chapter 3 #2
"Good. Because I like saying it." He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. "You are a good girl, Chloe. So sweet and kind and brave. Don't let anyone tell you differently."
More tears threaten, but these are definitely happy ones.
Tyler goes back to his side of the table just as the server appears with our food.
We eat, and the conversation flows easily now. He tells me more about his kids. Emma wants to be a veterinarian and Jackson is obsessed with all things dinosaurs. I tell him about the coffee shop, about the regulars who've become like family, about my dreams of maybe expanding someday.
"What about you?" he asks over tiramisu that we're sharing. "Besides the shop. What do you want?"
"Want how?"
"In life. In a relationship. What does your happily ever after look like?"
I think about the books I read. The couples I know who've found their perfect match.
"I want someone who sees me. All of me. Not just the competent business owner but the girl who still watches Disney movies and eats cereal for dinner and needs reassurance that she's doing okay.
" I take a bite of tiramisu. "I want someone who makes me feel safe enough to be little when I need to be, but who also respects that I'm an adult with a business and responsibilities. "
"Balance," Tyler says.
"Exactly. I don't want to be little all the time. But I want the option. The safety to let go when I'm overwhelmed or scared or just need to not be in charge for a while."
"That's very self-aware."
"The girls in book club helped. Hearing them talk about their relationships, seeing how it works for them. It made me realize what I need."
"And what do you need from a Daddy? If you were going to describe your ideal dynamic."
I consider the question. "Someone patient. Who doesn't rush me but also doesn't let me hide. Someone who gives me structure when I need it but knows when to step back. Someone who..." I trail off, embarrassed.
"Someone who what?"
"Someone who doesn't make me feel broken for needing this. Who actually wants to take care of me. Not because I'm incapable, but because it brings them joy."
"That's exactly what a good Daddy does." He leans forward. "And for the record, taking care of you would absolutely bring me joy."
My heart races. "Yeah?"
"Yeah. You know what I see when I look at you?"
"What?"
"Someone who gives and gives and gives to everyone around her. Who makes sure every customer feels special, who takes in stray kittens, who checks on her friends constantly. But who doesn't always take care of herself the same way."
He's not wrong.
"You need someone to make sure you're eating real meals, not just taste-testing pastries all day. Someone to remind you to close the shop on time instead of working yourself to exhaustion. Someone to tell you that it's okay to rest, to play, to just be."
Tears prick my eyes again. "How do you know all that?"
"Because I've been watching you for eight months. I've seen you give yourself away in pieces to everyone who walks through that door. And I've wanted to be the person who makes sure you get something back."
"Tyler—"
"I'm not saying I'm perfect for you. I'm not saying I know exactly what you need. But I'm saying I want to try. If you'll let me."
I look at this man across the table. This strong, patient, observant man who somehow sees straight through to my heart.
"I want to try too," I whisper.
His smile could light up the whole restaurant. "Yeah?"
"Yeah. But I need to tell you something first."
"Okay."
"I've never done this before. The dynamic, I mean. I've read about it. Fantasized about it. But I've never actually explored it with anyone."
"That's okay. I have and every couple’s dynamic is different, unique to them. We'll figure ours out together."
"What if I'm bad at it?"
"There's no bad at it. There's just learning what works for us." He reaches across the table again, taking my hand. "But we will need to establish some things first. Ground rules. Boundaries. Safe words."
"Safe words?"
"A way for you to tell me if something doesn't feel right. Red means stop immediately. Yellow means slow down, we need to talk. Green means keep going. These are the most basic of all and I’m sure you’ve heard of them.
It probably sounds stupid to bring it up, but I need to know you'll use them.
That you'll tell me when something's too much or not enough. "
"I will. I promise."
"Good. Because your safety, both physical and emotional, is the most important thing to me. More important than anything else."
"What about what you need?"
"What I need is to know you're taken care of. That's what brings me fulfillment." He pauses. "But that doesn't mean this is one-sided. We both get something from this dynamic. You get structure and care. I get the satisfaction of providing that for you."
"So it's like... mutual?"
"Exactly. The best D/s relationships are partnerships. You're not submitting because you're weak. You're choosing to submit because you trust me enough to take care of you. And I'm not dominating because I want control. I'm taking the lead because it's what we both need."
I'm quiet for a moment, processing. "The girls in book club talk about this. About how submission is actually a gift. How it takes strength to be vulnerable."
"They're absolutely right."
"Madison says Ty makes her feel powerful even when she's being little. Like she's choosing to give him control, so she's still in charge of the relationship in a way. She knows she can choose to stop at any time if she feels unsafe."
"Smart woman. That's exactly how it should work."
Our server brings the check, and Tyler pays before I can even reach for my purse.
"I can split it," I protest. “You paid last time.”
"I asked you to dinner. I pay." His voice is gentle but firm. "I will always pay for our dates, sweetheart."
There's that word again. And the way he says it, like it's the most natural thing in the world.
"Okay," I say softly.
"Good girl." I swear my clit tingles every single time he says those two little words.
We walk to his truck, and this time when he opens my door, his hand lingers on my lower back.
"Do you need to get home to Mochi?" he asks.
I check my phone. The kitten is still sleeping peacefully. "She's fine. Why?"
"I'm not ready for tonight to end yet. Want to take a walk? There's a park near your place with a lit path."
"I'd love that."
He drives us to my apartment complex, parks, and we walk to the small neighborhood park. True to his word, the path is well-lit with streetlamps every few feet.
We walk side by side, and after a moment, Tyler takes my hand.
His hand is so much bigger than mine. Strong and warm and calloused from years of military training.
"Can I ask you something?" I say.
"Anything."
"When did you know? That you were... into this? The Daddy Dom thing?"
He's quiet for a moment, considering. "I think I've always been this way. Even as a teenager, I was drawn to taking care of people. Making sure they were okay. My ex-wife used to joke that I had a hero complex."
"Is that another reason why you joined the military, do you think?"
"Partially. I like protecting and making a difference in this world. Making it safer by taking out inherent evil.” He squeezes my hand.
"But the D/s dynamic specifically? I didn't discover that until my twenties. A girlfriend introduced me to it. Explained what she needed. At first, I was hesitant. I was worried I'd hurt her or cross a line. When she told me she wanted me to spank her, I had a real conflict of conscience. Hit her? Hit a woman? I couldn’t do it. She took me to a club, I met some guys. Turns out many of my brothers in arms are into D/s. I learned that spanking in kink is not domestic violence. It’s consensual, negotiated, and within firmly set boundaries. She could stop it at any time with one word, that’s not abuse.
And the more I learned about D/s and especially the Daddy Dom little girl dynamic, the more I realized it aligned with who I already was. "
"What happened with her?"
"We dated for two years. It was a good relationship. But ultimately, we wanted different things from life. She wanted to move to New York for her career, and I was getting ready to deploy for an extended period of time. We parted as friends with no regrets."
"And then you got married?"
"To someone completely different. Someone who wasn't into the lifestyle at all. My ex is a very independent, very successful lawyer. She balked at the idea of any BDSM elements being introduced into our marriage. She couldn’t get passed the way it’s portrayed in the media.
She thinks anyone involved in the BDSM community are leather wearing, whip wielding, child abusing devil worshipers.
I couldn’t convince her otherwise. I loved her and I thought I could set that part of myself aside.
Be vanilla. Make it work. " He sighs. "That was a mistake.
You can't ignore fundamental parts of who you are. Not long-term."
"Is that why you divorced?"
"Part of it. We also just grew apart. Wanted different things. She wanted someone home every night. As she advanced in the firm, she decided she wanted me to leave the Army and be a stay at home dad. She made enough money to support us, but I’m not the type.
I couldn’t live off her income. I’m a provider and the thought…
” He paused for a second before continuing.
“Anyway, the lifestyle incompatibility was just another thing on a long list."
We reach a bench overlooking a small pond, and Tyler guides me to sit.
"What about you?" he asks. "When did you know you were a Little?"
"I don't know if I am. Officially, I mean. I've never labeled it."
"Labels don't matter. What matters is what feels right to you."