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His jaw clenched hard, twitched, and then he smiled. Half smiled, anyway. “Youaretrouble. Get over on the couch and don't move.”
Yeah, okay, I was fucking into that, and I kicked off my shoes and headed for the couch, tucked myself on one end, and waited with my heart thumping while he disappeared down the hall. A few minutes later, he came back with my favorite gray hoodie and stood there watching while I slipped it on. My body got warmer instantly, and so did my face for some reason, the way he stared while I got all cozy in his clothes embarrassing me a little.
I sat there wondering what was next, and when he grinned like that, that evil dimple popping out, I knew it was going to be something good. I watched as he turned toward the kitchen, went straight for that jar on the counter I'd been staring at forever, plucking something out with purpose and bringing it back.
He sat down in the middle of the couch, putting a rubber spatula on the table in front of us. Yeah, I’d been creeping on those things. Three different sizes, three shades of blue, and all of them looking like they’d bite skin in a really nice way. He’d brought back the biggest one— dark blue with a big, thick, wide blade. The only thing I knew you used those things for was to spread frosting, and you could frost a whole cake with that thing in about two seconds probably. It was basically a paddle.
“Green,” I said automatically, not wanting to sit there and wait for it, and he smiled.
“We need to talk about rules, brat,” he said, patting his thigh. “And what happens when you break them.”
I dove right across his lap, fucking addicted, always go-time when he wanted me over his knee. This though, straight up horny daddy games? This was the shit I signed up for.
He wrapped his arm across my back and pulled me up against him, yanking me around until my dick was pressed hard against his thigh and my toes just barely touched the floor. His couch was so fucking comfortable, and if I wasn’t so turned on, I might have fallen asleep right there over his lap, my head cushioned up in my arms.
When he grabbed the waistband of my sweats, I sighed, and I heard him laugh a little as he tugged them down over my ass and then reached around and worked them down in the front, stroking his fingers over my dick, all slow and lazy about it. He tugged my pants all the way down to my knees and rubbed my ass through my shorts. It felt so fucking good, and I rocked against his thigh, blissing out a minute, but he didn’t let me do it for long.
“Little boys do not leave the house in the middle of the night,” he told me, following up with two solid whacks across my ass without even taking my shorts down. Swear the guy had some kind of briefs fetish, and really who could blame him. I looked like a goddamn peach in these things, packed in all tight, round and juicy. Hell, maybe I had one too, because the sound his hand made on that soft cotton, just gonna say it, it was dirty. Hit me right in that sex-thing-but-not-a-sex-thing sweet spot.
“Okay, Daddy,” I said, automatically, clenching and shoving my ass back for more. Fucking starving for more of his rules, as it turned out.
“You do not go anywhere without telling Daddy where you’re going to be.”
That one seemed kind of strict, but I liked strict, especially when it came with half a dozen hard swats, one on top of the other, quick enough to burn a little even through my shorts.
I swallowed back a moan. “Okay, Daddy,” I said again. We were definitely somewhere in game-playing territory, but the way he’d looked when I walked back in the door, worried and wondering where I was, I wasn’t going to forget that, that part was real and serious.
I couldn’t see any reason not to agree though, not to let him know where I was going all the time. It wasn’t like I ever really went anywhere anyway besides school and games and practice, and occasionally a night out that I’d rather was a night in.
“You don’t need to leave the house after… ten o’clock on a school night,” he told me, giving himself a moment to consider and coming up with a curfew I’d expect a fifth grader to have.
“Wait, what?” I couldn’t help laughing. “Ten o’clock?”
“That’s right. Little boys do not stay out all night. Especially ones who are so exhausted all the time they practically doze off whenever they sit down.”
I cringed, knowing how true that was, how I’d literally been thinking about falling asleep right here over his lap.
“That’s soearlythough,” I said, because seriously, I kind of had to argue.
“If you’d like the rule to be that you’rein bedevery night at ten o’clock after Daddy gives you a spanking, I’m happy to adjust it for you,” he said, spanking a little harder, and my face burned, that arguing getting me exactly what I wanted, some extra attention, some extra embarrassment.
“No, Daddy, no, ten o’clock is good,” I told him when I caught my breath. “I’ll be home on time. I won’t go out late.”
“That’s what I thought.” He squeezed my ass hard and I groaned. “You also dress appropriately for the weather when you go outside. I do not want you to get sick. You wear long sleeves. You wear a jacket.”
He paused again, and I wondered if he was doing mental inventory of the things I hadn’t brought with me, because I suddenly was. Sure, I’d dumped clothes into my duffel bag, sure I’d grabbed my cash and my homework and my football gear, the stuff I absolutely needed. But I hadn’t really deep down believed I’d be here for any changing seasons. I hadn’t grabbed a coat or gloves or anything like that, I hadn’t even thought about it.
“Soon, Daddy is going to take you to get the winter clothes you need,” he said gently, and it still sounded like lecturing, but it was soft now, like a hug. “And when I do, there will not be any arguing about it. But until then, you take anything you need from the closet to stay warm. I am serious about that.”
I knew he was serious about all of it, I could tell because my stomach was tight and my eyes were watering, and this felt a little less like a game now and when he spanked me, hard, heavy swats that went on awhile, my moans weren’t just about how hard my dick was.
“Daddy has rules because he loves you and he wants you to be safe and to stay out of trouble. You need to follow them or you’re going to spend a lot of time over my knee with a sore bottom. Do you understand me, Logan?”
I nodded into my arms, trying not to listen to the words too hard, but failing fucking miserably because some part of me was just really, really locked in on thatloveword, the shivery way it seemed to land in my chest and stomach, like a bunch of fiery sparks. “Yes, Daddy.”
“Now.” He reached over me, and I knew he was picking that spatula up off the table. What I didn’t expect was for him to yank my shorts up my ass like some locker room bully, baring my cheeks that way, and I gasped, a weird, turned on whine crawling out of my throat as I squirmed around in his lap. “You made Daddy worry, and I don’t like that. I’m here to take care of you, and I can’t do that if I don’t know where you are. Do not make me worry like that again.”
The spatula came down hard on my right cheek and then my left, and it felt like I thought it might, stern and biting, but worse, so much worse, as he snapped it down across my cheeks and down my thighs and back again, just a flurry of smacks I couldn’t even follow he was spanking so fast, and I wormed around, kicking my legs and squealing.
