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CHAPTER EIGHT
Vanessa
“Daddy,” I say as I stamp my feet. “It’s not fair of you to punish me for something I never asked you to help me with! It’s not fair to spank me for something you want to change about me. You’re supposed to be my discipline when I can’t have self-discipline. You’re only supposed to punish me for things I want to change about me! It’s unfair!”
He looks at me in shock and says, “Little girl, what are you talking about?”
I look at him and say, “You can’t spank me for doing something if I don’t give you permission to make that a rule!”
“Little girl!” he says sternly. “You sit down and tell me what in the world you’re talking about!”
I stomp over to the chair and sit down as I look at him with the angriest face I can. It’s hard because the tone of his voice is incredible and all I want to do is jump on him and then make sure he jumps on me! I stare defiantly at him but his stern expression is unwavering. Finally, he says, “what did I spank you for that you hadn’t submitted?”
“Nothing,” I say with a pout.
“What?” the confusion on his face makes me want to giggle but I manage to hold off. “I haven’t punished you that way?”
“No!” I snap.
He shakes his head and says, “I don’t understand why you’re angry, then.”
“Are you saying I shouldn’t be angry because you’re doing everything we agreed to and making my life better in the process?” God, it’s hard to keep an angry tone! “And since I have a safe word to tell you if things are too much for me to handle, too? I shouldn’t be pissed off about it? Is that what you’re saying?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying, little girl,” he says angrily, “and it’s time for you to tell me what’s going on!”
I’m not angry as I say, “Well then, Daddy, it seems to me if I’m grateful and not angry for you holding me accountable to the things I really want to be accountable for; it’s wrong for you to keep worrying about being strict. It’s wrong for you to keep thinking I’m going to fall out of love with you. It’s wrong for you to act like how I just behaved is how I feel inside about the things you do that I submitted to. It’s wrong to trust me to tell you what I want help with but not trust me to be honest with you about how you hold me accountable, Daddy.”
He looks at me and I see anger in his eyes but then it disappears as he laughs. “Little girl. You’re not only beautiful and smart but you’re pretty damned wise, too.” He chuckles and says, “Wow. I don’t think there was any way you could’ve made your point better than that.”
I blush at the compliment and say, “I love you, Daddy. I love you for everything about you and that includes that you’re strict.”
He smiles and says, “Okay, little girl. Well, this is the only time I’m going to let you get away with being disrespectful.”
I giggle and say, “We don’t have a rule about that.”
He smiles and says, “Well, if you’re disrespectful I’m going to tickle you.” He leans forward and kisses me as I giggle at his threat. Then, he says, “On second thought… I’m going to tickle you anyway!”
I shriek and leap from the couch but, of course, I can’t outrun Daddy. I make it to the hallway before he scoops me up. I kick and wiggle and shriek but his fingers get to work on me and I turn into a giggling mess. I’m glad I headed to the hallway, though, because it’s a natural thing for Daddy to just follow it to the bedroom and when he does, the tickling stops even though his hands don’t stop moving. I don’t giggle or kick, either. I do a whole lot of wiggling and shriek one of twice, though.
The next days are wonderful. Daddy truly seems to set aside any worries about whether or not I’m happy with him just as he is, and that makes me very, very happy. About three weeks after my fake tantrum, he takes me out and buys me a cocktail dress so he can take me to the new fancy restaurant in town. Brittney’s Daddy, Timothy is one of the owners and so is another Daddy. When Grayson finds out that I’ve never been to a fancy restaurant in my life, he gets me a gift certificate to a salon so I can get my hair and nails done, too. As if all that didn’t make me feel special enough, he gives me a beautiful necklace, too.
I don’t think I’ve ever felt so spoiled in my life!
The night after my salon appointment, I feel about as beautiful and happy as can be. Daddy drives us to a parking lot behind the restaurant and then I take his arm as we walk to the side of the parking lot and up the alley to the front so we can go inside. “I think you’ll like this place,” he says. “The chef is a Daddy and Thomas is one of the owners. Brittney’s Thomas, I mean.”
I can’t respond. My heart is in my throat. He looks at me and says, “What’s wrong little girl.”
I point at the man in front of us. He’s holding a gun and has it pointed at Grayson. “Give me your wallet and your purse,” he says. “I want your necklace, too,” he says to me.
To my horror, Grayson says, “No.”
I stare at him in shock and then back at the guy with the gun. The man says, “Do you want me to shoot you?”
