"Daddy, please, I need more."
"You need to follow the rules." I edge her a third time, watching her come completely apart without the relief of orgasm. "Tomorrow, if you eat all three meals like a good girl, Daddy will make you feel so good. But tonight, you remember why the rules matter."
I clean her up gently with tissues, fix her clothes with careful hands, then hold her while she cries from frustration and relief and a dozen other complicated emotions she's processing all at once.
"I hate this," she mumbles into my chest, her voice muffled and miserable.
"No you don't. You hate that it works. That you needed consequences to actually put yourself first." I stroke her hair soothingly, letting her process everything without rushing her.
She's quiet for a long moment, and I know she's realizing I'm right. Because I am.
"Come on. I'm taking you home, feeding you actual dinner, then you're going to bed early."
"It's only seven o'clock."
"Early bedtime for girls who skip meals. Come on."
At my cabin, because I'm not leaving her alone tonight after punishment, I make her a real dinner while she sits at my kitchen table watching. Chicken, vegetables, bread, everything balanced and nutritious. I watch her eat every bite, making sure she finishes it all.
"Good girl," I praise when her plate is clean. "See how easy it is when you just follow the rules?"
"It's not easy. I just... when someone needs something, I can't seem to say no."
"You're not responsible for everyone's problems, Lilah. You're not their parent or their savior. You're a yoga instructor and physical therapist, not a martyr."
"But I'm a healer. That's what I do. I help people."
"You heal. But you can't pour from an empty cup, and that's what you've been doing your whole life." I sit across from her, making sure she's listening. "That's what the rules are for - keeping your cup full so you can actually help people effectively instead of running yourself into the ground."
She considers this while pushing rice around her plate with her fork, clearly thinking hard about what I've said. "The rules make sense. In theory. But in practice, when someone needs help right in front of me, I just... can't say no."
"That's why you have me. To say no for you until you learn to say it yourself. Until the guilt doesn't eat you alive every time you put your own needs first."
After dinner, I lead her to my bedroom. She looks uncertain when I hand her one of my t-shirts to sleep in.
"Are you sleeping here too?"
"Where else would I sleep? I'm not leaving you alone after punishment. Need to make sure you're okay, that you understand this comes from a place of care, not cruelty." I wait while she changes in the bathroom, and when she comes out drowning in my shirt, it hangs to mid-thigh and makes her look impossibly soft and cute.
"Bed," I say.
She climbs in without protest, and I pull her against my chest, wrapping my arms around her securely. "Sleep, little girl."
"I'm still frustrated," she mumbles against my skin. "From earlier."
"I know. That's part of the punishment."
"It's mean."
"It's effective. Tomorrow, you'll remember this feeling when you're tempted to skip lunch for someone else's convenience." I stroke her hair rhythmically, soothing her toward sleep.
She's quiet for a moment, and I think she might be drifting off, but then she speaks again. "Tomorrow, if I eat all my meals, will you really...?"
"Make you come? Yes. But you have to earn it by following every single rule perfectly."
"I'll be so good, Daddy."
"I know you will." I kiss the top of her head, breathing in her vanilla scent.
