He’d come back to the Ranch. He signed up like a good boy. Had been to Dr. Sam twice. Played nice with the horses. But he hadn’t gone near the Littles’ Wing. Not once. He’d just beengoing through the motions, day after day, pretending he was functioning.
But he wasn’t. Not really.
He missed the structure, the expectations and the correction. He missed the connection and the intimacy of being known and of being held accountable and still accepted.
I need my ass kicked.
The thought came out of nowhere.
But no one would do that. Not unless he asked. And asking felt impossible.
The polished double doors beside him opened with a gentle click. “Darian, come in.”
Danny flinched. The name didn’t fit. It never had. But Danny wasn’t right either.
He rose on shaky legs and followed Sadie’s Daddy inside.
Derek halted at his massive desk, one hand resting on the gleaming mahogany surface. Sam Denten sat in one of the leather chairs, posture relaxed but eyes watchful.
Danny’s gaze flicked from one man to the other. He swallowed.
“Have a seat,” Derek said, nodding toward the other chair.
Danny sat. Not slumped. Not relaxed. He perched on the edge like a schoolboy in trouble. His heart thudded against his ribs.
“You’re not in trouble.” Derek read him without effort. “This is just a conversation.”
Danny nodded mutely.
Sam spoke next, his voice gentler than Danny expected. “I’ve noticed something in our sessions. A pattern. You show up. You answer questions. You do everything right… but you don’t let go. Not really.”
Danny stared down at his hands. His traitorous hands that had trembled the last time Sam handed him a tissue. His stupidbody leaned instinctively toward that calm voice and quiet strength.
“I watch your body language,” Sam continued. “It’s part of the job. You carry yourself like someone under pressure. Like you’re waiting for permission to fall apart.”
Danny didn’t answer. Couldn’t. His throat worked.
Sam shot him a faint smile. “My strength is listening and guiding. But I’ve been in this field a long time. Sometimes, talking alone isn’t enough. Sometimes, the body has to release before the heart can.”
Danny’s head jerked up, and his breath caught.
“We’re talking about a structured spanking,” Derek said calmly. “Not punishment. Not because you’ve done something wrong. But because you need a release. Because you need someone to take control and help you through it.”
Hope broke through like sunlight at the crack of dawn.
Spanking. Release. Control.
Tears sprang in his eyes. He nodded, then swallowed past the lump in his throat and croaked, “Yes. Please.”
“We have someone who volunteered to serve as your disciplinarian,” Derek said.
Danny blinked. “Wait, what? Not you?” He glanced at Sam before he could stop himself, mouth gone dry. “I thought…”
“No,” Sam said gently. “Someone else—a person both Master Derek and I have high regard for. Even better, a Daddy who knows you and understands the boundaries—has agreed.”
Dread and anticipation coiled together in his gut.
Derek leaned forward and pressed the intercom button. “Please send him in, Erika.”
