Chapter 8
Two weeks slide by in a blur of coffee shop mornings and evenings wrapped in Tyler's arms. It turns out implementing the price increases wasn’t as scary as I thought it would be.
Only a few people noticed but everyone was incredibly supportive of the changes.
It was such a relief. With the profits I’m already seeing, I’m confident I can get ahead on my bills for once.
I've stayed at Tyler’s place more nights than my own. My toothbrush has a permanent spot in his bathroom. Half my closet has migrated to his spare dresser drawer.
We’ve had a lot of sex. But even more intimate than the sex? The make-out sessions that leave us both breathless and aching. His hands exploring under my shirt. My fingers tracing the muscles of his back. He can turn working out or making a meal into the most intimate experience.
The dynamic between us has settled into something comfortable. Natural. Tyler sets rules, I follow them (mostly), and we check in constantly about how we're both feeling.
The girls in book club are thrilled.
Madison: You're glowing. That's the Daddy effect.
Lily: Ethan asks about you two all the time. He thinks Tyler is good for you.
Holly: When do we get to meet him properly? Like a group dinner thing?
Chloe: Soon. I’m nervous about him meeting all of you at once.
Emily: Tell him we don't bite. Much.
Chloe: That's not helping
It's Friday afternoon, and the shop is slammed. We got a last-minute corporate order for thirty drinks, someone spilled an entire gallon of milk, and the espresso machine decided to throw a tantrum right in the middle of the lunch rush.
By two p.m., I'm exhausted and irritable and behind on everything.
My phone buzzes.
Tyler: How's your day?
Chloe: Chaotic. I'll text you later.
Tyler: Did you eat lunch?
I look at the less than half-eaten protein bar I grabbed three hours ago. That wouldn’t be acceptable to him and I know it. But, I go ahead and type out a response that will appease him.
Chloe: Yes
Tyler: What did you eat?
Shit.
Chloe: I ate a protein bar.
Tyler: That's a snack, not a meal. Chloe, we talked about this.
Chloe: I'm busy. I'll eat later.
Tyler: How much later?
Chloe: In an hour.
I silence my phone and throw myself back into work.
By the time I close at six, I'm running on fumes. My head is pounding. My stomach is growling. And all I want is to go home and crash. And I never called Tyler back.
I'm locking the door when Tyler's truck pulls up.
He gets out, and one look at his face tells me I'm in trouble.
"Hey," I say weakly.
"Get in the truck." His voice is calm but firm.
"Tyler—"
"Now, Chloe."
I climb in, and he drives in silence to his apartment.
Once inside, he points to the couch. "Sit."
"I can explain—"
"Sit. Now."
I sit.
Tyler disappears into the kitchen, returning a few minutes later with a large sandwich, and a glass of water.
"Eat," he says, setting them on the coffee table.
"I'm not hungry—"
"Chloe Marie Painter." His voice drops into that commanding register that makes my stomach flip.
"You have not eaten a proper meal all day.
You're running yourself ragged. And when I checked on you, you lied to me.
So, you're going to sit there and eat that sandwich while I decide how we're going to handle this. "
Oh God. He's really mad.
Not yelling mad. Worse. Disappointed, mad.
I pick up the sandwich with shaking hands and take a bite.
It's turkey, cucumber, and cheese on wheat. Simple and perfect. The exact way I like it. And the second it hits my stomach, I realize how starving I actually am.
Tyler sits in the chair across from me, arms crossed, watching me eat.
"I'm sorry," I whisper.
"What are you sorry for?"
"For not eating. For lying. For—"
"For breaking the rules, we established. Rules that exist to keep you healthy and safe." His eyes are intense on mine. "Why did you lie to me?"
“I didn’t mean to, I was going to call you back but…time got away from me.”
“I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about you telling me you ate lunch.”
"Because I knew you'd be upset if I told the truth that I only ate half a protein bar."
"Half a protein bar? You didn’t even eat the whole thing?”
Oops.
“And lying was better?"
"No. I just—I panicked. I was overwhelmed and didn't want to deal with the lecture."
"That's not how this works, Chloe. Part of our dynamic is honesty.
Complete honesty. If you can't tell me the truth, this doesn't work. Telling me that you hadn’t had a chance yet and explaining that you were swamped would have been better.
Taking thirty seconds to call me, with your headphones in, would have been a better solution than lying and ignoring our rules. "
Tears prick my eyes. "I know. I'm sorry."
"Finish your sandwich."
I eat mechanically, each bite sitting heavy in my stomach. Not because the food is bad, but because I've disappointed him.
When I'm done, Tyler takes the plate and returns to his seat.
"Come here."
I cross to him, and he pulls me onto his lap. Not sexual. Comforting.
"Talk to me. What happened today?"
"Everything went wrong. Corporate order, spilled milk, broken espresso machine. I was drowning and didn't have time to stop and eat."
"You always have time to take care of yourself. Jess was there. You could have stopped for five minutes and eaten a sandwich and downed a bottle of water. Taking care of yourself is non-negotiable."
"I know. I just... I get in task mode and forget."
"That's why we have rules. To help you remember." His hand strokes my back. "But lying to me? That's serious, sweetheart. That breaks trust."
"I know. I'm so sorry, Daddy."
"I believe you. But apologies aren't enough. We need consequences."
My heart pounds. "Like what?"
"Like, I’m going to spank your little ass for lying to your Daddy." His eyes search mine. "Do you understand why this is necessary?"
"Because I broke the rules."
"Not just that. Because you need to process what happened, accept the consequence, and move forward without carrying guilt." His hand cups my face. "This isn't punishment, baby girl. This is correction. To help you let go and do better next time."
"I'm scared."
"I know. And that's okay. But I need you to trust me."
I think about the past two weeks. About how Tyler has never once pushed me too far. How he checks in constantly. How he always puts my wellbeing first.
"I trust you."
"Good girl. Now, I need you to tell me your safe words."
"Red means stop. Yellow means slow down. Green means keep going."
"And if at any point this is too much, you use them. Understood?"
"Yes, Daddy."
"Okay." He shifts me off his lap. "Go to the bedroom. Take off your jeans but keep your panties on. Then come back here."
My breath catches. "Okay."
"Good girl. Go."
I walk to the bedroom on shaky legs. This is really happening.
I strip off my jeans, leaving my panties and shirt on, then return to the living room.
Tyler's sitting on the couch now, sleeves rolled up, expression serious but kind. Why does he look sexy as hell? It should be a crime to look sexy before giving a spanking.
"Come here, sweetheart."
I cross to him, and he guides me to stand between his knees.
"Do you understand why we're doing this?"
"Because I didn't eat and I lied about it."
"And those behaviors are harmful to you. They go against the rules we established to keep you healthy." His hands settle on my hips. "I'm going to put you over my knee and spank you. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Daddy."
"And if it's too much?"
"I use my safe word."
"Good girl." He guides me over his lap, positioning me carefully. "Remember to breathe. And trust me. I've got you."
His hand rests on my lower back, warm and grounding.
The first swat lands on my right cheek, and I gasp. It stings but it's bearable.
"Why are we doing this?"
"Because I didn't eat properly."
The second swat lands on my left cheek, harder this time. Swat. Right cheek. Even harder than before. It’s starting to burn. I wasn’t expecting it to hurt like this. I knew logically it might but… feeling it? Way different than reading about it.
"Daddy!" My voice cracks.
"You're doing so well, baby girl.”
Swat. Left cheek. The sting is building now, heat spreading across my skin. Then another on my right. Back and forth, cheek to cheek.
"Your health matters. Your wellbeing matters. When you forget that, you’ll find yourself over my knee getting a reminder."
He lands an extra hard swat right below my right butt cheek.
This one makes tears spring to my eyes. Without saying anything else, he increases the tempo.
His swats are unpredictable. He’s covered my entire butt and the top of my thighs with his large, firm hand.
The heat spreading across my backside is real…
and so is the moisture gathering between my legs.
My body can’t decide if I hate or love this.
I'm crying now, not from pain but from the overwhelming emotion of it all.
"You're doing so well. Keep breathing."
More swats land. The pain is sharp now, impossible to ignore. I briefly wonder if his hand hurts like my butt currently does. Then, I can’t think, all I can do is feel. His hand is coming down nonstop and as the pain grows I find myself collapsing over his knee.
"That's my good girl. All done. You're all done."
Tyler immediately pulls me up and into his arms, cradling me against his chest.
I'm sobbing now. Full-body sobs that shake my entire frame.
But it's not pain. It's release. Everything I've been holding onto—the stress of the day, the guilt of lying to him, the fear of my first spanking—it's all pouring out.
"Shh. I've got you. You're safe. It's over now."
His hand strokes my back in soothing circles. His voice is steady and calm in my ear.
"You did so well, sweetheart. So brave. I'm so proud of you."
"I'm sorry," I gasp between sobs. "I'm so sorry, Daddy."
"I know you are. And I forgive you. It's over. All over. We're starting fresh right now."