Daddy's Healing Little Girl (Wounded Daddies 9)
CHAPTER SIX
Thaddeus
I lie in bed feeling guilty.
After our conversation, to wake up to her still in my bed is something unfair to her. I feel like an asshole for asking for one more night and I feel like a prick because I know I’m unfair with her. I suppose a better way to put it is that I’m continuing to be unfair with her. “Maybe I have a solution,” I say.
It seems like a pretty stupid thing to say right after she kisses the tip of my cock and says, “Good morning, Daddy.”
She smiles at me and asks, “Oh yeah? What’s that?” she asks. As she does, she idly strokes my shaft, and there is something amazing to me about the lazy familiarity. We’ve been together for months. Everything is very exciting but it is also very comfortable.
Except every day she asks me to become her Daddy completely.
“What if I do the things a Daddy would do? I mean, I’ll help you think about what you want to accomplish. I’ll help you with the things you want to change about yourself and I’ll help you to set goals and work toward them.”
She smiles brightly and sits up. The blankets fall from her as she does and the sight of her little body so perfect and sexy is overwhelming. After sex last night and the blowjob this morning, it’s a wonder I don’t need a break but my softening cock instantly grows hard again. “So, you’re going to be my Daddy now, I mean really and not just with sex?”
“What I mean is, I’ll do all those things but not as a Dom, not expecting you to submit. I’ll show you what to do but I won’t hold you accountable the way a Daddy would.”
She sighs. “Okay, so I’ll stop calling you Daddy and start calling you Faculty Advisor?”
“Wait,” I say, “That’s not what this is.”
‘That’s exactly what this is,” she says as she stands up. “I want to submit to you. I want you to be my Daddy, a Daddy Dom. I know what it means and I’ve done a whole lot of research online and talking to all the other little girls here. I want someone to whom I can submit. Do you have any idea what that means when I say that?”
“Of course I know. I’ve been in this lifestyle—”
“No. I don’t mean the definition. I mean do you have any idea what it means that I want to submit? That Candace Elena Carter wants to submit.”
It takes an enormous effort of will not to comment that her middle name, now that I know it, is beautiful. “Tell me,” I say.
She shakes her head and grabs the robe she left on the floor in my room last night. After she pulls it on, she says, “You don’t really want to know.” She leaves the room and I lay there looking up at the ceiling trying to figure out what the hell I’m supposed to do. I hear her in the shower and I give it some time after I hear her come out before I shower as well.
Once I’m showered and dressed, I realize I can’t leave it at this. I knock on her door but she’s not there. I head downstairs and find her in the living room. “Please,” I say. “Please tell me what it means for Candace Elena Carter to submit. I want to know.”
She sighs and looks at me for a moment before she asks, “Really? You really want me to tell you?”
“Yes. I do.”
“All right then,” she says, “I’ve spent my whole life being independent, believing I would never let a man tell me what to do or decide my future. I’ve built my life on the idea that nobody but me will ever have a say, that I would never trust anyone to tell me what to do. I walk around with a chip on my shoulder, just daring some guy to try to knock it off so I can tell him what a fucking caveman he is.”
“Watch your language, little girl,” I say. I follow it up with, “Damn it all!”
“And then I meet you, and everything changes. I want it now. Oh, I know it isn’t you controlling me and I know that submitting to you will actually make me more independent and will give me more of a say. I know it will open up possibilities for me that I’ll have even more of a say with. I know all that. I want you to be my Daddy, my Daddy Dom. Not just someone I call Daddy during sex.”
“I don’t know if I can,” I say.
“Of course, you can!” she snaps. “You correct me every time fucking escapes my lips.”
“Watch your…” I sigh and she points at me as she shakes her head.
“I’m not Jocelyn and I’m not ashamed of being a little girl,” she says, “And I won’t be ashamed to have a Daddy.
“It’s easy to say that when we’re indoors.”
“You fucking idiot!” she shouts. “Fucking idiot.”
“Watch…” Damn it! I just can’t stop.