Chapter 6
I’ve already fallen in love with the area, so it was a no brainer to move up here. Being near two of my good friends from book club has really been fantastic. Then, there’s Ty. The first week together is an adjustment.
Not a bad adjustment, just different. Like learning a new language. Our chemistry is off the charts, there’s no denying that. But, learning to completely submit to a man when I’ve been independent for the last few years? A bit more challenging.
Ty texts me every morning without fail: Good morning, sweetheart. What time did you go to bed last night? And every evening: Time to start wrapping up. Let me know when you're settled for the night. Then he calls and we talk until he says it’s time for me to go to sleep.
At first, it feels invasive. Like someone's monitoring me, cataloging my choices, keeping track of whether I'm following the rules we established. But then I start to notice how I’m sleeping better. I eat more regularly. I take breaks instead of pushing through exhaustion.
Because someone's paying attention.
Because someone cares.
His three rules are deceptively simple and we’ve clarified some of them this week.
One: No real-time location tags. Everything gets delayed by at least an hour.
Two: In bed by midnight unless I have explicit permission otherwise.
Three: Check in before filming anywhere new or unfamiliar.
Four: Honesty. Always. About what I'm feeling, what I need, what's too much or not enough.
I break rule two on Wednesday.
It's not intentional. I get sucked into editing a video that's just not coming together, lose track of time chasing the perfect transition, and suddenly it's one-thirty in the morning and my phone is buzzing with an incoming call.
My stomach drops when I see Ty's name.
I answer, wincing. “Hi, Daddy.”
“You're still awake,” he says. It's not a question. “You haven’t answered my text, I thought maybe you’d fallen asleep early.”
“I... lost track of time. I was editing and—"
“Madison.” His voice is calm but firm. “What's the rule?”
“In bed by midnight unless I have permission.”
“And did you ask for permission? Did you text me to let me know you were still working?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I didn't think about it. I just kept working.” My voice is small, I have a feeling I’m in trouble.
There's a pause before he speaks. “That's exactly why the rule exists. Because when you're in work mode, you don't notice your own limits. You don't take care of yourself. You get caught up and forget to pause and take inventory of how you’re doing.”
“I know. I'm sorry.”
“I know you are. We'll address it tomorrow. Right now, I want you to close your laptop, brush your teeth, and get into bed.”
“Okay, Daddy.”
“And, Madi Baby?”
“Yeah?”
“I'm not angry with you. But rules exist for a reason. We'll talk about why this one matters and what happens when you break it when we see each other tomorrow night. Now listen to me and go to bed.”
The words send a shiver through me, it’s part anxiety, part anticipation. “Okay.”
“Goodnight, sweetheart.”
“Goodnight.”
I do exactly what he said. I shut down my laptop, go through my nighttime routine in a daze, and crawl into bed. But sleep doesn't come easily. Because I know what's coming tomorrow.
And part of me, a part I'm still learning to accept, wants it and is looking forward to it, maybe a little too much.
The next evening, Ty picks me up and drives us back to the cabin. The ride is quiet. Not uncomfortable but weighted. His hand rests on my upper thigh; he kissed me when he opened the door for me. He’s not angry, I can tell by his body language, but the unspoken anticipation is felt by both of us.
When we get inside, he gestures to the couch. “Sit. We need to talk.”
I sit, hands folded in my lap like a kid called to the principal's office. He doesn't sit beside me. He stands in front of me, arms crossed, expression calm.
“Tell me what happened last night.”
I swallow. “I was editing a video and I didn't notice the time. It wasn’t right. The music and the timing just wasn’t coming together.
I just kept working until I looked up and it was one-thirty.
My phone was on do not disturb so notifications wouldn’t pop up in the middle of the editing process and throw me off, or I would have seen your text.
I was too focused on the video to realize what time it was. ”
He nods slowly. “And that's exactly why the rule exists. Because when you're hyper focused on work, you don't notice your own limits. You don't take care of yourself. You push and push until you're exhausted.”
During one of our previous conversations, I’d admitted to him how I’d ended up in the hospital last year due to exhaustion and dehydration. I have a habit of not taking care of myself. Not knowing when to stop is definitely a weakness of mine.
“I know,” I whisper.
“And what happens when you break a rule?”
My pulse kicks up. “There are consequences.”
“That's right.”
He sits beside me now, close but not touching. His voice softens slightly.
“I'm not angry, Madison. But I am disappointed. Because we agreed on these boundaries for a reason. And when you ignore them, you’re putting yourself at risk, it’s either that or you don’t care about breaking the rule and intentionally are breaking it—"
“That's not—" I interrupt, then stop. Because he's right. That is what I was saying, even if I didn't mean it. “I'm sorry,” I say quietly.
“I know. But sorry isn't enough this time. You need to understand why the rule matters. You need to feel it and remember for next time.”
He stands and offers his hand. “Come with me.”
I take it, letting him guide me to the bedroom. My heart is pounding so hard I can feel it in my throat. There’s a rock sitting in my stomach, but something else too… mixed with the anticipation is a thrill of excitement.
He sits on the edge of the bed and looks up at me. “This is discipline, not punishment. You're not bad, you are my good girl who made a choice that wasn't safe or healthy. And I'm going to make sure you remember why that matters. You matter and your safety matters to me, baby.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Over my lap.”
I hesitate for just a second, not because I don't want this, but because the vulnerability of it is overwhelming. Then I lower myself across his thighs, and his hand immediately settles on the small of my back.
“I’m spanking you so that you learn,” he says quietly. “And you remember next time that your health and rest matters more than a self-imposed deadline.”
I nod against the comforter.
“Since this is your first discipline spanking, I’m going to give you ten swats. You're going to count them. And after each one, I want you to tell me why the rule exists. A new reason each time. Next time, Madi, there won’t be a number count. I’ll spank you until you’ve learned a lesson. Got it?”
My breath catches. “Yes, Daddy.”
He hooks his fingers in the waistband of my leggings and pulls them and my underwear down to my thighs, not all the way, but enough that the next swat will land on bare skin.
For the briefest of seconds I wonder what he’ll think of my bare ass.
Will it be attractive to him? All we’ve done so far is kiss.
Then, the first swat comes without warning. Landing exactly where I'm most sensitive, on the top of my thighs in the crease where my butt and legs meet. Yeah, this is definitely discipline.
“One,” I gasp. “The rule exists to keep me healthy.”
“Good.” The second lands in the same spot and the burn begins. “Count for me, Madi Baby.”
“Two. Because working all night isn't healthy and causes me to get sick.”
“That's right. Give me a new reason with this one.”
By five, I'm squirming, hands fisting in the comforter. The pain isn't unbearable, but it's insistent. Demanding attention. His swats are a lot harder than I ever imagined they would be. After peppering my sit spot, he’s moved up to the fullness of my butt.
“Five. We have rules because you care about my wellbeing.”
By seven, my eyes are stinging, not from the physical sensation, but from the emotional weight of it.
The intentionality and care. This isn’t like the spankings in my book that moved directly to physical gratification.
This spanking is different. By having me come up with a new reason with each swat, he’s keeping my focus.
My mind doesn’t have time to wander. I’m feeling each and every time his hand lands.
“Seven,” I choke out. “Because I matter to you. Our relationship matters to you.”
“Yes, sweetheart. You matter and you better never forget it.”
Eight lands hard on the opposite side and I lurch forward a bit. He pauses and lets me readjust over his knee.
“Eight. I can’t be my best self if I am exhausted.”
Nine comes slightly harder.
“Nine. Because listening to you is a way I can show you respect.”
The final one is the firmest yet, making me cry out for the first time.
“Ouch! Owwie.” I can barely recognize my own voice. My little has been released. This man makes me feel safe and seen. I’ve known him for less than a month, but I feel like I’ve known him my entire life. “Ten,” I whisper. “Because I’m your little girl.”
The words hang in the air for a moment. Then Ty pulls me up and into his arms, cradling me against his chest.
“Yes,” he says, voice rough. “Because I care about you and I need you to take care of yourself. And, because you are my little girl.”
A couple of tears track down my face, I’m not crying hard, and not from the spanking itself, but from the release of emotion. He wipes them away gently, pressing kisses to my forehead, my temple, my cheek.
“You did so well. I'm so proud of you.”
“I'm sorry, I broke the rule,” I say again.
“I know. And you're forgiven, this is over now.”
He shifts, laying us both back on the bed so I'm curled against his side. His hand rubs slow soothing circles on my back.
“Do you understand why I did that?” he asks softly.
“Because you care about me. Because my health matters more than content.”
“That's right. You're not a machine. You're a person who needs rest and care. And it's my job to make sure you get it.”
“Even when I fight you.”
“Especially then. I’m nothing if not consistent, baby.”
I breathe him in, letting the floaty, settled feeling wash over me. This is what the books call subspace, I realize. This weightless, safe, completely taken-care-of feeling.
“I love you,” I whisper. I haven't said it out loud yet, but it's true.
He goes still. Then he tilts my face up so he can see me.
“Say it again.”
“I love you.”
His kiss is gentle. When he pulls back, there's something vulnerable in his expression.
“I didn't think I'd ever want this again,” he admits. “This kind of responsibility. But with you, it's not a burden at all. It's a privilege to be your Daddy.”
We lie there for a long time, just holding each other. Eventually, he pulls a blanket over us.
“Let’s stay here tonight,” he says. “Let me take care of you.”
“Okay.”
Later, as I sit at the counter coloring a picture while he makes dinner, I realize how content I am. I can do this forever. I text Holly.
Me: I get it now.
Holly: Get what?
Me: The obsession with having a Daddy… being in a DDlg relationship.
Holly: It’s delicious, right?
Me: So delicious.
Holly: I’m happy for you!
Me: I’m happy for me, too.
After he's made dinner and he’s forced me to eat five whole green beans, we’re curled up on the couch with a princess movie on, he pulls me into his lap.
“Can I ask you something?” I say.
“Always.”
“Do you feel like we’re moving too fast? Are you scared of the honeymoon phase being over and then this not working?”
He's quiet for a moment, considering. “The day you called me sir and didn't even realize you'd done it, I knew you were mine. The way you responded to structure without even knowing you needed it, confirmed it. And the way you trusted me when you had no reason to, no experience with me, recognizing safety in my arms? It cemented it. Besides being cute as hell and the undeniable sexual chemistry between us, it feels like I found my person, my best friend. I just know. I can’t explain it, and perhaps that makes me a bit nervous, because I like to explain things, but I’m going with it. I have no doubts about this relationship. Absolutely no hesitation. I’ve never said I love you to a woman within a month of knowing her, but I love you, Madi. So, no. No, I don’t think we’ve moved too fast. I’m not scared of a honeymoon phase.
I’m excited about our future together. I hope we live in a perpetual honeymoon. ”
I laugh despite myself. “I wouldn’t mind that. Maybe, we can go on honeymoon trips, too. It would make for great content.”
His arms tighten around me. “Maybe we can. I want to build a life with you, Madison. Not just this dynamic, but everything. A real partnership that we look back on in twenty years and say, nah, we didn’t move too fast.”
“I want that too.”
“Good. Because you're stuck with me now, little girl.”
“Pinky promise?”
“Pinky promise.”