I really didn’t want to go back upstairs and waste more time, but it was the only option he presented me. I couldn’t help but wonder if he would have been so concerned about my education if I hadn’t asked him to be my Daddy. I wanted to keep watching television, go for a swim, or possibly watch a movie in the theater. All of my options might not have captivated my interest when I got home from college, but they were all better than spending the evening upstairs studying. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem like I had much choice. I went to my room, called my Mom, and once the call was over, I got distracted by social media again. I played a few games on Facebook and aimlessly looked at people’s pages until I heard Greyson’s footsteps on the stairs.
“Are you wrapping things up?” Greyson walked into my room. “It’s getting late.”
“Late?” I looked at the clock in the corner of my laptop screen. “It’s not even ten o’clock.”
“You need your rest.” He tilted his head slightly. “You don’t want to be one of the kids sleeping in the back of the class tomorrow morning.”
“Okay…” I sighed and nodded. “I guess I’m going to bed.”
“Let me take a look at your work before you do.” He motioned to my computer. “I’ve taken all of your classes—maybe I can give you some pointers.”
“My—work?” I swallowed hard and looked at the computer.
“Surely you haven’t been up here for hours doing nothing…” He narrowed his eyes and his tone got firmer. “Chrissy…”
“I—I tried to work on it. I just got distracted.” I sighed and looked at my computer. “I’ll do better tomorrow.”
“I believe you will.” He nodded as I turned back towards him. “But—unfortunately, you didn’t do what you were supposed to do and I’m sure you know what has to happen before you go to bed.”
“You’re—you’re going to spank me?” My lip trembled. “I don’t even have an assignment due! I’ve got plenty of time…”
“You were supposed to be up here working.” He looked at my computer again. “Clearly, you weren’t.”
I realized that Greyson was right. I had fallen into the same trap that plagued me when I was in high school. Instead of working on my assignments, I spent the evening on social media—wasting valuable time. Procrastination had been my downfall several times. Even when I got the intense focus that a looming deadline could bring, I rushed through everything. It was never my best work. Greyson walked to the bed and sat down on the edge. He motioned for me and I approached. I didn’t argue when he slid his fingers into my pajama pants and lowered them. I wanted to argue when I realized my panties were next, but I was afraid that would make it worse. Once my panties were around my knees, Greyson guided me into position. I was bent at the waist and my ass was elevated thanks to the position of his knee.
“Tell me why you’re going to get a spanking.” Greyson patted my exposed ass.
“I—I didn’t do what I was supposed to do.” I sighed and closed my eyes. “I should have been working on my assignments.”
“That’s right.” He lifted his hand.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
“Ow…” I tensed up and whimpered as I felt the sting come to life.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
“You’ll get this regularly if that’s what it takes.” He lifted his hand again. “When you have an assignment, that’s what you should be working on. I don’t care if it’s due the next day or at the end of the semester.”
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
“Yes sir!” I squealed and bounced on his knee as the sting got more intense. “I’m sorry, Daddy!”
That word—Daddy. I said it again…
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
“Your social media privileges are revoked, effective immediately. After your punishment is over, you will delete all of your accounts.” His voice was calm—like he wasn’t asking me to obliterate my life.
“What?” I looked over my shoulder. “Daddy—No…”
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
“You need to be focused on your future instead of the past.” He tilted me on his knee.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
“Oh god! Daddy, it hurts!” I squealed and bounced on his knee.
“Are you going to do what I said?” He lifted his hand and brought it down in the middle of my ass.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
“Yes sir!” I nodded quickly and felt tears forming in the corner of my eyes as the sting turned into a burning sensation.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
“Okay, then it’s time for you to delete your social media accounts and go to bed.” He let his hand rest on my upper thigh.
I wiped away the tears that had tried to form and hugged him when I was allowed to stand. Then I did exactly what he said. I sat down at my computer—gingerly, because of the soreness he left on my sit-spot—and deleted my social media accounts. It wasn’t like I was just going to lose contact with the people I truly cared about—I had their contact information saved in my phone. Once my accounts were deleted, Greyson hugged me one more time before leaving me alone in my room. I could have gone to sleep—I was certainly exhausted. Instead, I turned my laptop back on and started working on my first assignment. Every time I shifted in my chair, I got a reminder of why I was so determined to make sure all of my assignments were perfect. Greyson lit a fire on my ass—and it was one hell of a motivator.
He keeps showing me why I need a Daddy. I know I made the right decision when I asked him to take on that role—I just wish there was a way for it to become more.
10
Greyson
Several days later
Chrissy settled into her new role quite well. After she got a spanking for wasting time on social media and deleted her accounts, she became very focused on her assignments. I looked over them every night and while I had a few pointers, she was doing very well on her own. Her work was excellent, well researched, and I was pretty sure her professors were going to see that she was serious about her education.
It really didn’t take very much guidance to get her to that point. I helped her bring the confidence simmering below the surface to light and gave her the right motivation to focus on what was important. She might have lost her way in high school, but she wasn’t as bad as she thought she was. She was crying out for attention. She wanted someone to peel back the layers and see that she was nothing more than a lonely girl in need of love and discipline. I had done that, and she was finally on the right path.
“We have a situation.” Lauren looked up at me as I walked into my office building.
“Yeah, my phone has been going crazy since I parked my car. Let me guess—Ricky missed practice again?” I leaned against the edge of her desk and tried to hide my immediate frustration.
“It’s a little worse than that.” She turned her computer monitor towards me. “A paparazzi got some pictures of him—out with a girl last night.”
“So what?” I shrugged. “He goes out with a lot of girls…”
“Yeah, but this is Marshall Smith’s wife.” Lauren’s jaw tightened and I finally realized why she was so concerned.
“Oh bloody fucking hell!” I threw up my hands. “Okay, get me a meeting with Marshall Smith’s agent. We’ve obviously got some damage control to do here.”
“I don’t know if this is a situation we can control.” Lauren shifted her computer monitor back around so that she could see it. “This is a disaster…”
“Have you been able to get in touch with Ricky?” I walked towards the door of my office.
“No, he’s not answering his calls. Don’t worry, I already sent someone to check on him.” She nodded quickly.
“Thanks�
��” I sighed and sat down behind my desk.
Marshall Smith was the star wide receiver for the Los Angeles Bashers, and Ricky’s favorite target when he threw the ball. Marshall could turn any decent pass into a touchdown and some of Ricky’s bad passes had become legendary because of Marshall’s miraculous ability to catch any ball he could touch. They were a team and if they weren’t on the same page, then it was going to be disastrous for the rest of the season and there was no way the Bashers would make it to the Super Bowl. I needed to know how bad it was. Ricky loved the ladies—but his teammate’s wife? That was practically treason.
Ricky, what the fuck have you done?
I pulled up the pictures that the paparazzi took. There were pictures of Ricky having dinner with Emily Smith, pictures of them outside the restaurant looking cozy—but nothing that proved they were involved—except the final shot—the one of them getting into a limousine together. A few hours later, that same limousine was seen parked in front of the Ritz-Carlton. Thankfully, there were no shots of Marshall Smith’s wife doing the walk of shame, but people could connect the dots pretty easily—especially when the paparazzi practically drew them a road map. The court of public opinion was already in session. Multiple news outlets had picked up the story and it was making headlines.
“Ricky is on his way.” Lauren walked to my door. “He says this is a huge misunderstanding.”
“Right…” I growled under my breath. “Have you been able to get Marshall Smith’s agent on the phone?”
“No, not yet.” She shook her head back and forth. “I assume his phone is probably lighting up like yours is right now.”
“Mine—isn’t ringing.” I looked down at my phone.
“That’s because all of your calls get forwarded to me.” She chuckled slightly. “Speaking of which—I’ve probably missed ten calls in the time it took for me to walk over here and tell you that Ricky is on his way.”
This place would go down the drain without her…
After I signed Ricky Bonds as my first big client, I considered expanding and bringing in additional agents to help manage everything. Ricky Bonds was the kind of client you could build a powerhouse agency around. But—I saw what that was like in Chicago when I worked with Sam. There wasn’t much of a relationship between the agency and the client. I wanted clients that hired me, not clients that hired my agency. I might not have had a full stable of superstars, but I knew every one of my clients. When I worked for the agency in Chicago, I had so many clients that I barely even got a chance to sit down with them, much less find the right endorsements deals or provide them with what they needed to expand their personal brand.
“He’s here…” Lauren gave me a warning—and then the doors flew open.
“What the fuck is going on, Foster? I pay you to make sure this shit doesn’t happen!” Ricky came storming into my office and he was seething.
“Ricky, I can’t control the paparazzi.” I stood up and glared at him. “What in the bloody hell were you thinking? Marshall’s wife?”
“I didn’t fuck Emily! I would never do that…” He walked over to the liquor cabinet where I kept a few bottles for clients. “I need a fucking drink.”
“Tell me what happened.” I sat down and waited for Ricky to finish pouring his drink.
“It was totally innocent.” He sipped his drink and sat down across from me. “We were—we were planning Marshall’s birthday party. It was supposed to be a surprise.”
“Don’t feed me that bullshit.” I scoffed at him. “She got in your limousine—the same limousine that was spotted in front of the Ritz-Carlton a few hours later…”
“I was at the Ritz-Carlton, but I wasn’t with Emily. I dropped her off and then I got a call from someone else.” He took a gulp of his drink. “I need you to fix this…”
“Okay.” I nodded quickly. “If you’re telling me the truth, this should be easy to clear up, but—we might have to spoil your plans for Marshall’s birthday party.”
“That’s fine…” He sighed and shook his head. “I’d rather save his marriage than his fucking birthday surprise at this point.”
Ricky left my office and I started making calls. It was a damn good thing most people were so enamored by Ricky’s bad boy reputation that they were willing to take my call. They wanted dirt and were certainly unhappy to learn that I wasn’t calling with any. Ricky’s reputation was so bad that they expected him to just own the affair and give his teammate two middle fingers if he didn’t like it. I finally got a call from Marshall Smith’s agent around lunchtime and he confirmed that Emily told him the same story Ricky told me. Marshall was—suspicious, but willing to sit down with Ricky and try to clear the air. It felt like a small victory at least. I just hoped they were telling the truth.
“The tabloids are picking up your version of the story.” Lauren walked to the door of my office. “I guess Marshall Smith’s agent is feeding them the same one.”
“Yeah.” I nodded. “It seems like Ricky might be innocent—this time.”
I was at the office until nearly seven o’clock dealing with the fallout of Ricky’s evening excursion with Emily Smith. Things seemed to be settled. Ricky and Marshall sat down to talk and hugged when it was over. I hoped that was the end of it and they would be able to work together on the football field. If they had a good game and won, then people would forget about the story. There was a good chance that Ricky would do something else to land himself in the headlines—and odds were that he wouldn’t be innocent the next time around. I had done my job and definitely earned my paycheck for the day. It was time to go home…
At least everything I had to deal with today kept my mind off Chrissy.
I was doing my best to be the Daddy that Chrissy needed and keep the door in my head permanently closed. My lust was under control—my desire was contained—but something else had started to toy with my thoughts. I was starting to actually like Chrissy. It was more than just attraction drawing me to her like a moth to a flame. I was watching her grow and become the woman she wanted to be—it was an amazing transformation. It made her even more beautiful in my eyes. She embraced what she needed and when she made mistakes, she understood that discipline was what she had always lacked—a firm dose of it reinforced every lesson. It might have started as something playful, but that need was always simmering beneath the surface.
“Sorry I’m late…” I walked upstairs when I arrived home and found Chrissy in her room.
“Are you?” She looked at her clock. “Oh wow, I was distracted by the assignment I’ve been working on.”
“You didn’t eat dinner?” I raised my eyebrows in surprise. “I figured you would have fixed something.”
“No.” She shook her head back and forth.
“Well, it’s a little late to call the chef. How about pizza—delivery.” I chuckled under my breath.
“Yeah, that sounds good.” She nodded. “I’ll keep working until it gets here.”
“Okay.” I couldn’t help but feel admiration as I watched her turn back to her computer and continue where she left off.
She’s definitely taking it seriously now…
I ordered pizza and it arrived about thirty minutes later. We ate it downstairs and Chrissy seemed eager to go back upstairs, but I could see the exhaustion in her eyes. I decided that she had put in enough work for one evening and suggested that we watch a movie. She was actually hesitant—like she couldn’t spare a couple of hours—so I had to insist. I wanted her to stay focused on school, but I didn’t want her to burn out before the semester was over. We popped some popcorn and ate it while we watched a comedy that had been out for a couple of weeks. It wasn’t very amusing to me, but I liked hearing Chrissy laugh. That was better than the movie to me.
“Alright, I guess I should go to bed.” Chrissy yawned and put her hand up to cover her mouth.
“One more day.” I looked over at her. “Any plans for the weekend?”
“Plans?” She raised an eyeb
row. “I planned to work on my assignments…”
“You haven’t made any friends at school?” I tilted my head slightly.
“I’ve met a few people.” She nodded. “But you said I needed to stay focused on my assignments.”
“There’s a balance.” I chuckled under my breath. “You can have fun—as long as you don’t go overboard.”
“I remember.” She sighed. “No drinking. No parties. Oh, and I have a curfew.”
“That’s right.” I nodded quickly. “I want you home by eleven.”
“Okay, maybe I’ll see if any of the people I’ve met want to hang out.” She nodded. “That might be nice.”
I wanted to spend the weekend with Chrissy, but I didn’t want to stifle her development. Social skills were as important as making good choices. She would always be faced with situations that required her to display maturity as she decided how to react to them. That was the mistake her father made—he didn’t know how to hang out with people that made bad choices without giving in to peer pressure. Based on Chrissy’s confession, she was often the one peer pressuring others, so she needed to learn how to be a positive influence as well as resist temptation. It was my protective nature that forbid her from going to parties or drinking. I would have looked past it with a disapproving glare if she was just living with me—but if I was going to be her Daddy, there was no way I could do it without being overprotective.
I can’t change my nature and being her Daddy does cater to it—but I have to make sure I don’t fall for her now that I’ve bottled up my desire…
11
Chrissy
The next day
“Hey there…” I walked up to Meghan when I spotted her standing outside of the building where our next class was being held. “Did you find another party last night?”
You seem to have found one every night this week—while I’ve stayed at home and worked on my assignments.
Daddy's Best Friend (Once Upon a Daddy) Page 9
