“While you’re under my roof, in my building, you’ll do what Daddy says.”
“That hurt, Daddy.”
“Did it? Good,” he says moving in closer and wrapping his hand around my neck. “Because that’s exactly what we both wanted.”
I nuzzle into his pant leg and he slides his hands underneath my armpits, pulling me up onto his lap.
“Little girl, I want what’s best for you. I’m not one of the bad guys,” he says as I wrap my arms around his head and nuzzle my face into the crook of his neck, making my body as small as humanly possible on his lap.
“I’m pretty sure you’re not one of the good ones either.”
4 Scarlett
The next morning
I wake to the sound of my neighbors fighting, thinking I might have been better off sleeping another night in my car. At least I could park it in a nice neighborhood, recline the seat, and not be bothered.
Not here.
Although HR pulled me into their office after Silas spanking, to tell me I’d be receiving a salary advance before the end of the day, it still didn’t go too far after paying the first month’s rent, last month’s rent, and security deposit on the place where I found myself now.
The neighborhood wasn’t exactly scary, but then again what was after being around Silas all day?
I’ve lived in low-income housing my whole life and that kind of scary is a lot different than the kind of scary Silas serves up. His was more like a protective, possessive, I want what’s best for you kind of scary.
But as I rolled over and shake my phone so it will display the time I realize that theory might be put to the test really soon.
7:24.
Crap!
I bolt out of bed, stripping out of my polka dot pajamas and sliding into my work clothes on my way to the bathroom. And by on my way, I mean the five feet that separate the bed from the bathroom.
I splash some water on my face and then run my hands through my hair, trying to make myself look presentable.
I squirt a glob of toothpaste onto my toothbrush and then brush furiously enough to age my gums about five years in five seconds.
Grabbing my bag I’m out the door and trying to flag down a taxi…to no avail.
I’d flirted with danger before and Silas proved he’d stand his ground. Part of me thought about testing him again, but at this point it didn’t seem right. Although another spanking seemed right, in the absolute wrong kind of way.
Being late today would just be irresponsible, especially after SteeleSharp’s generosity. I still, for the life of me, couldn’t find out why he named his company SteeleSharp and not just Sharp as Steele, if that’s the vibe he was going for.
I finally manage to flag a cab and tell him I’ll pay extra if he can get me to the office by five till, which will allow me enough time to navigate the elevators and arrive on time.
The clock is ticking and as I watch the meter on the cab increase, my blood pressure goes along with it, I can feel my purse getting lighter.
“Donuts. Donuts. Donuts!” I yell.
“You wanna make a stop, lady?” the man asks.
“No, I just don’t want to curse.”
“First time I’ve heard that outta a kid these days.”
“I’m not a kid.”
“Coulda fooled me.”
“How much longer?” I ask, my foot tapping against the floorboard.
“It’s right…here,” he says, turning the corner. Before he can come to a complete stop I’m stuffing the money in his front shirt pocket and yelling, “Keep the change,” even though there’s not nearly enough to qualify for a tip.
I just need to get to the office in record time before Silas offers me any more ‘tips’ on how I need to conduct myself.
I blow through the front door and slide my way to the elevator.
“Come on, come on, come on,” I mumble under my breath.
“You know that’s the service elevator,” someone says as they step into one of the passenger elevators.
I dart inside just as the doors are about to close, much to the chagrin of the other passengers.
My foot keeps tapping with each stop of the elevator as we slowly make our way to the top.
Once the last passenger is off the elevator shoots up to the top and I’m out the door before the ding has even sounded.
“Ms. Jones,” Silas says. “Good morning.”
“Hi,” I say, not having enough breath to get out a proper greeting more than a single syllable.
I look at the clock on the wall, which reads 7:59.
“On your way to your desk?” Silas inquires, with a smirk.
“Yes, I’m on time. I mean, I’ll be on time.”
I breathe in deep and prepare to sprint over to my desk, not caring if I look like a crazy lady with my hair on fire.
I do exactly that and the second my buns make contact with the chair, one of the many synchronized clocks in the office strikes 8:00 o’clock exactly.
I breathe out a sigh of relief and not ten seconds later Silas is standing over the top of me. “These are for you,” he says, dropping a neatly typed piece of paper on my desk and casually strolls back toward his office.
He moves so calmly, so self-assured and with that smirk on his face that I was sure he was the devil, yet he breathed life into me.
I pick up the paper and can’t help but notice it’s heavy card-stock and the paper isn't a professional white color or even off-white. It’s…light pink.
Across the top it reads, “Daddy’s Rules for His Little Girl”
What the…?
#1.) Daddy knows best. Trust and respect daddy. Always.
You’ve got to be kidding me.
# 2.) Work starts at 8:00. You will have your butt in your chair
