Heal Me, Daddy

by Roberts, Laylah

  “Daddy! Daddy, stop!” she cried out.

  “I’m sorry, baby doll. But this spanking has to be far harder than your last one.” He moved his hand lower, to the top of her thighs and started spanking her there. She started wiggling, trying to escape and he held onto her tighter, gripping her around the waist as he made certain to redden all of her ass.

  Gradually, she stopped fighting and lay there, just sobbing.

  Poor baby.

  He felt terrible that there was more to come. But not so bad that he wouldn’t follow through and give her everything she needed. This is what she required. She’d been floundering without a dominant figure in her life. Someone to give her boundaries. If she’d been left on this path, she’d have worked herself into an early grave.

  Not on his watch.

  “Baby doll, do you know why this spanking is so much harder than your last one?”

  She was silent for a moment. “I g-got sick.”

  “And you got sick because…?”

  “I didn’t t-take care of m-myself.”

  “That’s right. This is a far more serious transgression and I need you to know how serious I am about your health. It is not something I will ever take lightly. Not because I’m a doctor but because I …”

  Love you.

  Nope. Not the way to blurt it out. But now that he’d thought the words they felt right. He was ready to shout them from the rooftops. However, he knew they were likely to scare her off. Most people would see it as too soon. But he wasn’t most people.

  “Care about you.”

  “I care about you too,” she whispered.

  He rubbed her lower back. “Keep your hands where they are, baby doll. Once we get this part over with, I’m going to hold you for a long time. Then I thought you might enjoy some Little time, what do you say?”

  There was a beat of silence and he thought she was going to reject his suggestion. Then she nodded and sniffled. “Yes, please, Daddy. I-I’d like that.”

  “That’s my girl. It’s a count of six. Two smacks for each rule you broke.” Before he finished speaking, he’d smacked the paddle down on her ass. She tensed then let out a loud cry.

  Another smack of the paddle. Another cry. By number three, she was trying to roll herself off his lap. He held her steady and applied the last ones quickly, not making her wait.

  After the last one landed, he rolled her over, holding her tight against him, careful not to let her full weight rest on her bottom.

  Shit. He would always do what was best for her. And putting her over his knee for a well-deserved hand-spanking or one for fun, he had no issue with. But those smacks with the paddle had almost killed him.

  Still, if she ever put herself in real danger, he wouldn’t hesitate to redden her ass with his belt or the paddle. Because she meant that much to him.

  She meant everything.

  * * *

  “What do you think, Daddy?” Caley bit her lower lip as she held up the collage picture she’d made. She’d been cutting out bits of paper and gluing them onto a giant white piece of paper. Then she’d put more glue on top and sprinkled glitter all over it.

  “What was that?” Issy walked out of the bedroom with a basket filled with what she assumed was dirty laundry. Mostly hers. Guilt filled her. She should be helping.

  But before she could open her mouth and say something, he paused, his mouth dropping open slightly as he stared down at her. She looked around, at the glitter on the floor and her clothes and all over the coffee table where she’d been working.

  And then there was the mess of paper, with small bits lying everywhere from what had been cut off.

  Oh. Whoops. For someone with his OCD issues this was probably torture for him.

  “Sorry, Daddy. I’ll clean it all up.”

  He closed his eyes and his mouth moved. She was fairly certain he was counting. Then he opened his eyes again. She gave him a guilty look.

  “It’s okay, baby doll.”

  It was? It didn’t look like he actually thought that.

  “But you will clean all this mess up,” he said sternly.

  She nodded. Uh-huh. She totally would. It was okay if some got swept under the rug and sofa, right? What he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

  He gave her a skeptical look. “What did you make, baby doll?”

  “Oh, it’s a picture for you!”

  “That’s gorgeous,” he said in a much less strained voice.

  “Are you gonna hang in on the ‘frigerator?”

  He blinked then looked over at the fridge where all her magnets were now lined up in neat rows.

  Seriously. They were lined up. He’d organized her fridge magnets.

  “Never mind,” she said sadly, dropping her face to stare at the floor. “I know it’s not that good.”

  “Hey now,” he said sternly, stepping forward to grasp hold of her chin. He raised her face. “That is a gorgeous creation and I would love to put it on the fridge.”

  “You would? You don’t think it’s too messy?”

  He shook his head. “I’m sorry, baby doll. I know I have a few, um, quirks, but I also know I need to find a line between tidy and psycho.”

  She had to grin at that.

  “And if it makes my girl sad then I am definitely not striking the right balance. You have my permission to point out what an uptight ass I’m being.”

  Her eyes widened. “I get to call you an uptight ass?”

  “Ahh, no. That’s not very polite. But you can tell me that I need to ease up.” He had set the laundry basket down when he walked over to her. He took the picture from her hand then walked to the fridge and put it up. She got up and followed him. “There. How does that look?”

  “Great, Daddy.” She bounced excitedly on the tips of her toes. “Does you want me to do the laundry?”

  “Certainly not,” he replied. “Littles do not use the washing machine. And my girl definitely does not use that washing machine.”

  “I’ve used it lots before, Daddy.”

  “Well, no more. You’re getting a new washing machine.”

  She frowned. A new one? But she was used to this one.

  “I donts need a new one.”

  “This one is dangerous, and you do need a new one. Now, stay here while I go do the washing. Then I’ll help you clean up.”

  “I thought I’d make a picture for Archie. Unless you think he wouldn’t want one.” She bit her lip. Was it all right that she wanted to make one for his brother? Or was it weird? Would he think it was weird? It was just…she missed Archer so much.

  “I think he’d love one, baby girl. We can mail it when we next go into Bozeman.”

  “We’re going into Bozeman?”

  “Yes, we’ll need to go get some groceries next week and you need to visit a gynecologist.”

  Oh. Freaking awesome. Most Littles might get to go to the movies or an arcade.

  She got the gynecologist.

  He must have seen something on her face because he grinned. “Don’t worry, baby doll. If you’re a good girl, Daddy will take you to do something fun as well.”

  “Like what?” she asked suspiciously. “Get a flu shot? Have some blood taken?”

  “Hmm, both good suggestions, I’ll add them to the list.”

  She groaned. She needed to learn to stop while she was ahead.

  22

  Doc looked over at Caley’s clay creation. He’d gotten her some the other day to play with, thinking that it might be good for her hands. He was trying to coax her into figuring out how to use the dictation software that she owned but had never used.

  He’d spent today stacking the load of firewood that had finally arrived while Caley worked. She hadn’t been terribly impressed that he’d ordered and paid for the firewood without her knowledge. When she’d told him she was going to pay him back, well, he hadn’t been too happy about that.

  When she’d stomped her foot, the beginning of a tantrum, and called him a couple of
not-nice names, he’d ended the argument with a hand spanking then sent her to spend fifteen minutes in timeout.

  Afterwards, her mood had been a lot better. Although she still wasn’t happy about the wood. She wasn’t going to be impressed when all of Archer’s gifts arrived, which should be any day now. But she could call Archer and have a chat with him.

  He frowned, thinking about his brother. He’d been surprisingly hard to get hold of lately. In fact, he’d only spoken to him twice since he’d left nearly a week ago.

  Of course, in the last two years you’ve only spoken to him a handful of times.

  But that was before…when he’d been holding onto a foolish, misplaced anger.

  He and Caley had settled into a bit of a routine. He brought her coffee in bed in the morning, they got up and did some light stretches and exercise. Then after breakfast, she worked while he did some things to tidy up the property. After dinner, they spent time together, with her in Little space. This was his favorite time of the day; when they were together, and both of them were relaxed.

  “That looks great, baby doll. It’s time for your bath soon. This is your five-minute warning.”

  He’d learned about the need to give her warnings rather than just spring things on her. She did not do well with change.

  “Couldn’t we skip the bath tonight, Daddy? I want to do some more playing.”

  “Nope. We could not. A bath is important for your bedtime routine.” He’d managed to instill a routine, hoping it would help with her sleep. He’d give her a bath then comb and braid her hair before putting her to bed with a bottle of warmed up chocolate protein shake.

  “And you haven’t picked up your stuff yet, either,” he reminded her sternly.

  She groaned. He just gave her a look. She got up with a huff and grabbed the empty basket then started walking around, picking things up. He’d put her rules board and her reward/punishment chart up on the wall. Where she could see them every day. The punishment and reward jars were kept on the mantel of the fireplace. So far, she had slightly more smiley faces than frowns, but he wasn’t betting on that lasting.

  “Remember to go through the bedroom and your office,” he called out. He followed her into her office to make sure she got everything. His gaze went to the train set and he walked over, sitting down to study it.

  “Dave carved it all for me,” she said quietly, kneeling beside him. She picked up one of the small people. “This one is me.”

  He carefully took the piece from her, looking it over. “He was really talented.”

  “He would carve wooden toys and sell them over the internet. He had a lady who made the outfits for the people. But he always worked on pieces for me.” She ran her hand over one of the houses.

  “He forgot a bit on your doll, though.”

  She frowned, glancing over. “What? Where?”

  “The red bottom.” He turned it around and lifted the material of the dress.

  She rolled her eyes. “Not everyone has an obsession with my bottom the way you do, Daddy.”

  “Just as well. If anyone else tried to touch your bottom, they’d lose their hand. Right, show me your basket.”

  He pulled everything out, one by one. “Twelve.”

  She bit her lip. “Are you sure?”

  “Count it out for yourself.”

  She slowly and carefully counted everything. He put each item back in the basket as she counted it. Her shoulders slumped. “Twelve.”

  “Go mark a frowny face on your chart.”

  “At this rate, I’m gonna have more frowns than smiley faces.” Yesterday she’d earned a number of frowns for that tantrum she’d thrown.

  Doc turned and walked into the living area with the basket of stuff. He paused as he heard his phone ring. He picked it up and frowned as he saw Kent’s name.

  Caley sighed long and loud. She dragged her feet as she made her way to her chart. She heard Issy answer his phone. She didn’t pay much attention as she put another frowny face on her chart. This was not going to end well for her, she could tell.

  She turned as she heard Issy swear. His face was twisted in a scowl.

  “Fuck. Can’t someone else go to him?” he snapped.

  He sat and rubbed at his temple. She moved behind him and leaned over the sofa to rub his shoulders.

  “Yeah. Yeah, sure. No, I think it will be quicker and easier for me to drive than fly. Yeah. Got it.”

  She paused then straightened. What was going on?

  Issy grunted then ended the call without a goodbye.

  “You’re leaving, aren’t you?” she whispered, her stomach trying up in a knot.

  He stood and turned towards her. “Baby doll, I don’t want to. If there was any way that I didn’t have to, I wouldn’t.”

  “What’s happened?” she asked, suddenly worried. “It’s not Archer, is it?”

  “No. No, Archer is fine. It’s work. One of our guys has been shot.”

  “Oh God. A friend? Is he in the hospital? You need to go home to help him?”

  “Wouldn’t exactly call him a friend. More like a thorn in my side, bane of my existence, pain in the fu…flipping butt,” he said hastily. “Zander isn’t exactly friends with anyone. And he doesn’t follow any rules. He also won’t let anyone but me fix him up. So he’s currently holed up in one of his hidey-holes in Colorado, and is waiting for me to come doctor him because Lord forbid, he be normal and go to a hospital.”

  “He’s been injured and he’s refusing to go to a hospital?”

  Issy sighed and moved into the bedroom, pulling out his duffel bag. He grabbed a few pairs of underwear, jeans and shirts, putting them neatly into his bag. Even in a rush, he took care.

  “Yeah, Zander isn’t normal. He’s paranoid. He trusts very few people. Unfortunately, I am one of those people. That’s what happens when you save a guy’s life. Suddenly, they think they can call you up every time they get shot!”

  He moved into the bathroom to gather up his toiletries and she followed him. “Wait, this has happened more than once?”

  “Uh-huh. Zander gets hurt a lot. As well as being paranoid and anti-social, he also pisses people off on a regular basis. If he keeps doing this, I might shoot him. And it won’t be a flesh wound.”

  “How long will you be gone?”

  He zipped up his bag. Then turned to her. “I’m not sure, baby doll. It depends how bad the wound is. Maybe a couple of days.”

  She bit at her lip. “Should I…should I come with you?” Some panic filled her at the thought of it. She hadn’t been away from this cabin for more than a few hours. Just enough to go get supplies. But she also couldn’t imagine being here without Issy.

  You would be fine if Archer was here.

  But he wasn’t.

  Issy cupped her face between his hands. “I wish I could take you with me. Believe me, I would. But Zander won’t let me on his property if you’re with me.”

  “Oh. All right.”

  “What I do want you to do, is to follow all the rules. I expect an honest accounting your chart. Understand?”

  “Okay. I guess I can do that.”

  “No working long hours. You need to eat and drink. You have my cell number. Go grab your phone and I will put Kent’s in as well. That’s my boss. If, for some reason, you can’t get through to me then you can call Kent.”

  She very much doubted that she’d need to call his boss, but she let him put his number in her phone.

  “I’ll try to call but don’t worry if you don’t hear from me until tomorrow night, all right? And, baby girl, I expect you to take care of yourself or there will be trouble when I get back.”

  She rolled her eyes and he spun her around, popping her sharply on the bottom. Then he turned her back and drew her into his chest, holding her close. “Be good. I’ll miss you.”

  She wrapped her arms around his waist. She didn’t want him to leave. What if he left and decided that she wasn’t worth returning to? What if…


  “Hush, Caley,” he murmured. “Whatever you’re thinking, just stop. I’m coming back. I’m not leaving you. The only way I’m leaving here permanently, is with you by my side.” He took a step back, giving her a firm look. “I am never leaving you. You. Are. Mine. I want you to come home with me, live with me, be mine. I’ve got to go.”

  Caley watched him drive off, until his rental vehicle disappeared around the corner in the driveway.

  Feeling bereft and lost, she stepped inside the cabin and locked the door.

  I am never leaving you.

  Thing is, he couldn’t guarantee that. And losing him…

  It might just break her permanently.

  * * *

  Why had he left her?

  Archer drummed his fingers against the desk in his office. He had one more patient due in about an hour. He should be spending this time more productively. He stood and moved to the wide windows, looking out at the Dallas skyline.

  Why hadn’t he stayed and fought for her?

  Because the person who you would have fought for her was your brother. The person you’ve been trying to mend fences with for years. The person who deserves her love, needs it.

  I need it too.

  He pushed his hand into his immaculately pressed pants. Pursuing Caley would have been a disaster. He knew that. Plus, there was no guarantee that Caley would pick him.

  On the surface, Isaac was the one who suited her. Isaac would happily the hermit life in a cabin in the woods. He’d chop wood and fix things and fuss over her. And she’d be free to be herself. She could write, she could let her Little side have free rein.

  He couldn’t give her any of that. He lived in the city. He had a career that he loved, mostly, he had people he cared about, sort of, he had a life here. He wasn’t about to give that up…

  Not even for Caley?

  This was ridiculous. There was nothing he could offer. And if he’d have tried to fight for her, he’d have lost his brother.

  What if you could have both?

  It was something that he kept going back to. It wasn’t just a relationship with Caley he desired. He loved his brother. When they’d managed to move past their issues, they’d worked well together.