No, I haven’t broken any rules, so perhaps he just wants to see me. I grab my bag and trip lightly up the stairs. I’m about to knock when a thought occurs to me. I lay my bag to one side and kneel. Then I knock.
“Come.”
I wait where I am.
“Come.”
I can hear the irritation in his voice but I stay where I am. A moment later the door is yanked open and he glares out. Then his gaze falls on me, sitting at his feet, looking up at him. He smiles. “Well, well. Come in. On your knees.”
I crawl in and then kneel again, sitting back on my heels.
He sits on the edge of his desk, arms folded and legs crossed at the ankles, watching me. His eyes rove over my bare shoulders, the white camisole top I’m wearing and my blue-and-pink flowered miniskirt. He spies the pink choker and his gaze sharpens. “Fuck. Don’t you look a picture. Do you like being in my office even though I spank you?”
I nod, a smile creeping over my face.
“Do you like being in my office because I spank you?”
And it’s easy, admitting it now, after the last time. “Yes, Mr. Kingsolver.”
He makes a growling sound in the back of his throat. “Holy hell. Just look what you do to me.” He rubs a hand over himself, and I see the hard rod of his erection, tight in his trousers. My eyes widen. I thought that he liked touching me but I didn’t realize how much I could arouse him just by being in the room.
“Do you want to be a good girl and come for me?”
I whimper. It’s all I want. “Yes, please.”
He holds out his hands to me. “Come here, kitten.” He pulls me up onto his lap so that I’m straddling him and my knees are on the desk. “Rub yourself against me,” he whispers. And his hands guide me, holding my hips. I rub myself along the hard length of him, unsure of what I’m doing, and worried that I’m doing it wrong. It feels slutty, but in a good way, and Mr. Kingsolver seems to be liking it, too. The intense look in his eyes encourages me to rub harder. We look into each other’s eyes as the hot, tight sensation inside me builds, our breaths mingling. His eyes are becoming dark with desire.
“Does that feel good, babygirl?” he asks, when I’m whimpering and clutching at him and I can feel I’m close to coming.
“Yes.”
He catches my jaw between his thumb and fingers and squeezes hard. “Say, yes, daddy.”
I stare at him. Yes what? But I’m so close to coming and I want to give him what he wants because he’s making me feel so good. My throat is tight with my approaching orgasm. “Yes, daddy.”
He groans, pressing his forehead against mine and closing his eyes for a second. “Do you like that, babygirl?”
“Yes, daddy,” I say, moaning, nearly over the edge.
His thumb rubs hard over my lower lip. “Good girl. Come for daddy.”
I come, my head thrown back, his hand fisting my hair and the other holding me tight against him.
When I return to earth I shift position so that my legs are wrapped around him as well as my arms. We hold each other, breathing in unison.
* * *
On my way home the strangeness of what just happened sinks in. I’ve heard silly jokes about Who’s your daddy and Your daughter calls me daddy, too, but I didn’t know people actually said that to each other. I mean, did they say that to each other? Mr. Kingsolver seemed to like it. Like, a lot. I remember the intense, hungry look in his eyes. When I think about it, I like it, too. It feels like a pet name, like the ones he calls me. Kitten. Babygirl. Daddy. Except that daddy sends an erotic thrill through me that the others don’t, and makes me want him to touch and caress and hurt me all at once. Most of all, though, it makes me want to please him.
Was it weird, though? Or was it a...thing?
On the train I take out my phone and open the browser. Then I’m at a loss. What do I even search for? I don’t know what we are to each other, or what we’re doing. Thinking for a moment, I type, I call m—
And I don’t even finish typing the sentence when the suggested search appears. I call my boyfriend daddy.
I stare at my phone, my heart beating faster. All right, then. It’s definitely a thing.
I start browsing the links. There are dozens of articles about what it means to call your boyfriend daddy. If it’s weird to call a man daddy during sex. Girls asking why it feels so good to call their boyfriend daddy. I spy something about daddy dom/little girl relationships, and I click on that. I might be a virgin, but even I’ve figured out that there’s something dominant and submissive about the things that have been happening between Mr. Kingsolver and I, and that I like it. I like it a lot.