And that was it. Kyle broke.
Kyle’s chest ached. Not from guilt anymore, but from how much he wanted to make things right. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’ll do better. I promise I’ll listen to you.”
Daddy Benson’s shoulders dropped, like the tension had finally started to bleed out. He turned his hand over and laced his fingers through Kyle’s, squeezing gently.
“I’m still here,” he said.”
Kyle nodded, tears slipping down again, but this time they felt different. Not hopeless, just raw. He leaned in, forehead resting against Daddy Benson’s shoulder, and his daddy didn’t pull away. He let him stay there, let him breathe, let him feel the warmth of being forgiven.
And in that quiet, Kyle knew they were going to be okay. Not perfect. Not untouched. But okay.
Daddy Benson gave his knee a gentle squeeze. “That’s all I ask.”
And just like that, the tension in the van shifted. It didn’t disappear, but it softened—like a storm that had passed, leaving behind quiet air and the promise of clearer skies.
Daddy Benson stopped in the parking lot of an adult shop.
“Follow me and don’t touch anything in there.” Daddy Benson’s voice was a low growl, tinged with exhaustion. Kyle walked along side of Daddy Benson. He’d been in stores like this in the city.
The first aisle in the store was taken up with DVDs, while the rest was dedicated to adult toys and clothing. On display was a thrusting vibrator. The price tag was displayed, and he realized it was way out of his budget. Piles of gleaming handcuffs and sturdy arm restraints lay scattered around on a table. Another aisle had spanking implements hanging on a wall. Daddy Benson stopped abruptly to examine the paddles and whips, and other mysterious things. He finally settled on a bright red paddle. Kyle was aware of why he would purchase a spanking instrument. He still seemed grouchy, so he sure hoped he would wait before he paddled him. Once he’d paid for the paddle, they made their way back out to the van.
“When are you going to punish me?”
“When it’s the right time.”
After another hour went by, Daddy Benson turned into a deserted side road and parked.
“Why are we stopping here?” Kyle asked.
Daddy Benson turned to Kyle. “You’re going to receive your punishment for disobeying me.”
“What’s my punishment?”
“Ten swats with my new red paddle.”
“Yes, Daddy Benson.” A chill crept over Kyle as he felt the blood abandon his face.
“If you can’t take the pain or need me stop, say red. Do you understand?”
Kyle nodded.
“I can’t hear you, Kyle.”
“Yes, sir.” Kyle had been disciplined by his last Daddy and at the group homes. It wasn’t the pain that caused the fear, butsomething far worse. Disappointing Daddy Benson made Kyle regret his actions. How could he be so blind, failing to consider the pain his actions would cause the man he cherished?
“Go to the back.” Daddy Benson pointed to the back of the van. “Pull your jeans and jocks to your ankles, then bend over the foot of the bed.”
Kyle froze, stiffening in his seat, as he never wanted to disrespect Daddy Benson.
“Now!” Daddy Benson shouted.
Kyle got up and walked to the back of the van, dropped his jeans and jocks to his ankles, then bent over the bed. The act of bending over for Daddy Benson was scary and exciting all at once. He loved any attention to his ass from Daddy Benson.
It took Daddy some time to get to the back of the van with his paddle. He probably did this to make Kyle think of his mistake. It just made him anxious, wanting it to be over. He spun to face Daddy Benson and the paddle, its wooden surface reflecting the light.
“I’ve asked you to follow my orders and directions. Do you agree to listen?” He stood behind Kyle, watching him intently.
“Yes, sir. I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you the first time.”
