Hero Daddy

by Roberts, Laylah

  “Is it me? I know my size and tats can be intimidating, I can try and find you someone else—”

  “No!” she said quickly. “No, please. Don’t leave me, Sir.”

  “Hey, it’s okay,” he told her soothingly, his protective instincts ramping up.

  “It’s not you. In fact, I feel amazingly comfortable with you considering I’ve just met you.”

  This was her when she was comfortable with someone? Holy hell.

  “I mean you are a bit intimidating looking. You’re big and with all those tattoos. But I think they’re gorgeous,” she blurted out. Then she turned her face away from him. “I mean…ah…shoot…umm.”

  “It’s okay,” he told her, having to bite back a smile. He didn’t want her to think he was laughing at her. “Is that a hint of a southern accent I hear?”

  “Yes, I was born in Georgia. It’s mostly disappeared but it slips out now and then. Sorry.”

  “Why would you be sorry?”

  She stared up at him then away again as though she couldn’t stand to meet his eyes for long. He didn’t know why that bothered him so much. Many subs struggled to look him in the eyes, even with his permission to do so. He wanted her to look straight at him.

  “I’m not sure. I don’t know why I said that.”

  Lie. He was sure of it. He opened his mouth to censure her, but paused. She didn’t have to lay out all her secrets. However, lying also wasn’t allowed.

  “You can refuse to answer a question,” he told her gruffly. “However, I won’t accept lies. Am I understood?”

  Her eyes widened, fear filling her face.

  Shit. Way to go, asshole.

  “I understand. Sorry. I’m just a bit nervous.”

  He softened. “Totally understandable. Let’s take this slow. We’ll go for a walk. We’ll stop at each scene. You can ask whatever you like. Then you can tell me on a scale of one to five whether you liked it. One is it looks fucking awful. Five being you loved it. Then we might have an idea of your limits and what you’d enjoy.”

  “Yes, I can do that. Sir. Sorry, I keep forgetting to call you Sir.”

  “You’ll get used to it. I’m not big on protocol, but a lot of people here are, so don’t look any of the Doms in the eye and don’t speak to any of them unless they speak to you first.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Good girl. You’re doing well. This can be overwhelming, especially when you haven’t been fucking prepared properly.” God damn Angus. He’d be having a chat with him about this later.

  She gave a small nod of her head.

  “All right. Another rule. If you’re asked a question you have to answer verbally. No nodding or shaking your head. It’s a good habit to get into when you’re playing. Understand?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Good girl.”

  Did he imagine it or was there a small flush of pleasure in her face when he said that?

  “Now choose a safeword and we’ll get started.”

  “But I…if I’m not playing, do I need one?”

  “You always need a safeword,” he said firmly. “You can use the word red. It’s a standard word. If you call out red a monitor will come running and the Dom you’re playing with should stop immediately.”

  “Should?”

  “Yeah, should. Can’t fucking guarantee they will. That’s why the monitors are here. Don’t ever play outside of a club, not unless you’re with a trusted partner.”

  “That is something I can easily promise,” she told him in that quiet, husky voice.

  “Ask questions if you need to. We’ll stand back a bit so we don’t interrupt any scenes.”

  “Understood, Sir.”

  He walked towards a new scene and frowned as he realized she was walking behind him. Again.

  Turning, he gave her a firm look. “Walk up here with me.”

  Her eyes flared with surprise.

  “Someone told you to walk behind me?”

  “I thought I’d read it somewhere.” Her cheeks grew red.

  “Some Doms might require it. But I want you close. Come here now.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Damn. He wondered what it would be like to hear his name coming from her lips.

  Fucking heaven, he was betting. That husky voice of hers just twisted up his insides.

  She was quiet as they moved around the room. Far as he could tell, she didn’t show much of a reaction to anything.

  He was growing more and more puzzled about why she was here.

  Someone screamed and she jumped. Ink placed his hand on the small of her back without thinking.

  She started, stepping away from him. Immediately, he pulled his hand back.

  “Sorry, brown eyes,” he murmured. Her eyes were wide, her breathing rapid.

  “No, no, I’m sorry, Sir. I just wasn’t expecting you to touch me.”

  “I’ll warn you next time, then.” He grinned down at her. He got a glimmer of a smile back.

  Well, that was something. He wondered what it would take to get her to actually smile.

  Losing your charm, man.

  They moved to another scene. A female sub was tied up on a spanking bench with her legs bent, her ass on display. Her Dom was holding a Hitachi wand to her clit. Her ass was red and she was writhing on the bench.

  “Oh wow,” Betsy murmured.

  She studied the submissive on the bench.

  “Please, Sir, please,” the sub cried.

  “No, not yet.”

  “What is she wanting?” Betsy asked quietly.

  “She wants to come.”

  She stared up at him. Her mouth dropped open. “Oh.”

  He had to bite back a grin.

  “And he won’t let her?” There was a slight note of outrage in her voice. He chuckled.

  “Nope. Her orgasms are his. She’s only coming with his permission or she’ll be subjected to a hard punishment.”

  “How can she hold off?” she muttered, almost to herself.

  “Training. Because she wants to please her Dom.”

  “And what about her? What does she get out of it?”

  “A spectacular fucking orgasm, once she’s allowed to come,” he said dryly.

  She snorted then her hand came up to cover her mouth, as though horrified that noise had come from her. But he had to grin. That was adorable.

  “Some submissives like to please. Some enjoy the loss of control. They want to hand all the decisions over to someone else and just be. They aren’t in charge. They don’t have to decide what to do.”

  She stared hard at the scene in front of them. He wondered what sort of sub she’d be. What would she be like if she ever lost that reserve?

  “Where are you at on the scale?”

  “Oh, I think a three.”

  Uh-uh he wasn’t letting her get away with that. “What did I tell you about honesty? There needs to be honesty and communication between a submissive and their Dominant. That’s really fucking important. You tell me you like something and then I do it in a scene when actually you were unsure, that sort of shit can land us in a whole heap of mess. I ask you if the ties around your wrists are too tight and you say no, then at the end of the scene, you have no blood flowing in your hands, that’s a fucking problem. See where I’m going with this?”

  “Yes, I understand.”

  “Where are you on the scale with this scene?”

  “Four,” she replied quietly.

  “Good girl.” He had to fight the urge to touch her again.

  As the submissive’s cries grew louder, he found himself watching Betsy. She was biting down on her full lip; her cheeks were slightly flushed. Definitely aroused. Intrigued.

  His cock pressed against his jeans.

  As the sub came, he found himself imagining Betsy on the table, tied down, her ass red, her pussy wet with her juices. He wondered what she’d be like when she came. Would she make much noise? Would she cry out? How would she taste? Salty? Sweet?

>   Fuck. Stop it, man.

  “Come on, let’s find another scene.”

  She’d need to start off with a patient Dom. Someone who could take some time with her. Which wasn’t him. He wasn’t here often enough to help her.

  You could be, though.

  Ahh, nope. Not happening.

  2

  “Let’s go look at the themed rooms,” Ink suggested to a quiet Betsy.

  He led her over to a door, wondering how she could wear those stilettos. But she seemed to glide on them. Even with them, she barely reached his chin. Without the shoes, she’d probably reach the top of his shoulder.

  He held open the door and she paused, looking up at him.

  “What is it? You don’t think a tattooed biker can have manners?” he snapped.

  “You’re a biker?”

  “Ahh, yeah.” Great. Way to scare her off more. Idiot.

  Not that it mattered, since he wouldn’t have anything to do with her after tonight.

  “What sort of bike do you own?” she asked as they walked through the door.

  “Harley Davidson Dyna.”

  “My grandfather had a hog. He used to take me for rides on it. Well, when grandmama wasn’t around to stop him. I liked it. It felt like I was free. Like I had no worries.”

  Yeah. He got that. Except what worries did she have as a damn kid?

  She was staring off into the distance, her eyes unseeing and he cleared his throat. “Down here are the open themed rooms. Open because they have viewing windows where you can look in on people’s scenes.”

  “They…they want to be watched?” she asked.

  “Not much different than out in the dungeon. Except these scenes are in special rooms.”

  The lighting was better in here so he took the chance to study her. She had some light make-up on, not a hair was out of place, her lips were full and pink, her eyebrows arched, her brown eyes staring at everything around her but him. Everything about her was poised and elegant.

  Except, there was this slight crink in her nose. Not noticeable unless you looked closely. But it made her look less like a doll and more like a real person.

  “If people want more privacy, there are more rooms upstairs that are reserved for private play.”

  He stepped forward then noticed she wasn’t with him. He turned to her with a slight frown.

  “Betsy, what did I tell you about where you should walk?” He dropped his voice.

  She quickly moved towards him. “Sorry.”

  He didn’t want to push her too far too fast, but she needed to learn to listen and obey.

  “What do you call me?”

  “Sorry, Sir.”

  “Do it again and there will be some punishment.”

  Her breath hitched. Her eyes widened. And yep, he felt like an asshole. He hardened himself against that thought.

  “P-punishment?” she squeaked. “But we’re not…isn’t tonight about ob-observing? Sir?”

  “Tonight is about teaching you. And no, we’re not scening. However, there are other forms of discipline that don’t require me to touch you.”

  “Like what?” she asked, sounding genuinely curious.

  “Well, I could make you stand in the corner of the dungeon. Nose pressed against the wall, hands behind your back, ass pushed out.”

  “You…you…really?”

  He had to bite back another grin at her indignation. He needed to be firm right now. But damn, that was cute.

  Okay…why did he keep thinking she was cute? Cute didn’t describe her looks. But her behavior. Yeah, cute.

  “I would.”

  “But that’s…that’s…”

  “Yes?”

  “Kind of mean.”

  “You were given a rule. You were given a reminder. Now you know that if you keep breaking the rule, then you’ll be given a punishment.”

  She blinked and seemed to think about that for a moment. “How do I know what’s a rule and what’s not?”

  “There are club rules to follow. You’ve been given those?”

  “Not yet, Sir,” she whispered.

  “Fucking hell, Angus. What is he doing?”

  She took a small step back. Shit.

  “Not irritated at you, babe.”

  “Oh, ahh, yes. I’m sorry.”

  He sighed. “Brown eyes, you don’t have to apologize all the time.”

  She opened her mouth and then shut it with a grimace. He guessed she’d been about to apologize again. “That’s harder than it sounds. So is that a rule?”

  “Is what a rule?”

  “Not saying sorry all time.”

  “No, that’s a suggestion for my sanity,” he tried to tease but she nodded seriously. “While I’m your mentor, I’m in charge of your safety and behavior in the club and I want you close to me.”

  “This really is a whole new world.”

  “Come on, the medical room is up here. You might like that.”

  They stopped at a large window. Inside, a Dom sat on a stool between his naked sub’s legs where she lay on the doctor’s table. Her feet were in stirrups, spread wide. She was tied to the table, her hands above her head, a strap around her waist and more straps around her ankles.

  “Wow.”

  Ink stared down at Betsy. Her scent teased him. Cinnamon and vanilla.

  Delicious.

  The doctor moved between the patient’s legs then picked up a speculum.

  “Is he really going to…is that safe?”

  “Every Dom here has to take training sessions,” he told her. “Has Angus signed you up for sub sessions?”

  “Sub sessions?”

  He took that as a no. Christ. His best guess was that Angus didn’t believe she was truly serious. That he expected her to run after tonight. Ink got it. But he could have given him a heads up.

  “They’ll help with some ideas on what you like and don’t like. On what to expect while at the club and during scenes. Shit like that.”

  “That sounds really helpful,” she said dryly.

  They watched as the doctor used his light to inspect the sub’s pussy.

  “Want to hear what they’re saying?” he asked her, pointing at some headphones on the wall. She looked over then nodded.

  “Words, babe.”

  “Oh, yes, please.”

  He handed her a set then put some on himself.

  “That looks healthy, Lexie. But we need to test your reaction to stimulus,” the doctor told her as he slid the speculum free. It was glistening with her juices. Lexie made a whimpering sound.

  “Doctor, my nipples hurt.”

  “Do they? Let’s see what we can do to help.”

  The doctor stood beside Lexie and pushed his hand down her stomach until his finger was circling her clit.

  Betsy shuffled around and he stopped paying attention to the room and started watching her. He could see that her nipples were hard. He wondered if she was soaking her panties.

  A cry filled his ears. He turned back to the window, in time to watch the doctor release the second clamp then suck the abused nipple into his mouth as he swirled his finger around his patient’s clit.

  She screamed her release, her hips arching off the table as far as she could as she came.

  Ink glanced down at Betsy to find her lips were open and slightly damp, as though she’d just licked them. Her breath was coming faster.

  Yeah. Definitely turned on.

  “Very nice reaction times,” the doctor told his patient. “But now, let’s see how long you can resist stimulus for.”

  The patient groaned. Ink reached up and removed his headphones. It was nearly time to take Betsy back to Angus, but he found himself surprisingly reluctant. Suddenly, the need to find himself a sub to play with, to ease his stress, to feel some human contact was gone.

  Betsy must have noticed that he’d taken his headphones off, because she slipped hers off as well. He took them without a word and put them back onto the hook.

  “
Where are you on the scale with medical play?”

  “Oh, um. Four.”

  He’d thought so.

  “Come on. There are other scenes to see.”

  He walked her to a dungeon scene which seemed to scare her more than anything else. Then there was the orgy room. Yeah, that one did nothing for him either. He wasn’t into sharing. They moved past a room that didn’t have a window.

  She paused and looked at the door questioningly. “Is this room not being used?”

  “Sir,” he reminded her.

  “Sorry, Sir,” she told him.

  “That’s the Littles’ room.”

  “Littles’ room? What does that mean? Sir?”

  He thought about what to tell her.

  “It’s okay. You don’t have to explain if you don’t want to. What’s next, Sir?”

  Was that a hint of hurt in her voice?

  “Age play is…not everyone understands it. Littles are consenting adults. Their Dominant is usually their Daddy or Mommy. It’s almost a…a softer side of BDSM. A Little is someone who enjoys slipping into Little space. What that space is depends on the person. Some regress to babies, others are older. Then there are middles who regress to teenagers.”

  “What do they do while in Little space?”

  She was frowning but it seemed to be more in thought than because she was horrified.

  “I can show you. But…”

  “But what?”

  “You need to be sure before you go in there. Even here in the club, there are people who don’t get this part of the lifestyle. I don’t want to take you in there if you’re going to judge them.”

  She sucked in her breath. He waited for her to tell him that she wouldn’t do that. Or to be outraged that he thought she might. But she just nodded. “I get it. People can be judgmental and mean when it comes to something they don’t understand.”

  Had she experienced that?

  “Are you…? Do you ever…? I mean…you seem to know a bit about it.”

  “Are you trying to ask if I’m a Daddy Dom?”

  “Is that what they call it? A Daddy Dom?”

  “Yeah. And sometimes I can be.”