Page 16 of Daddy’s Rules

We were exhausted by the end of it, lying in the middle of the floor, wrapped in his arms as the husk of the teddy bear now resided in the corner of the room.

“What happens with the teddy now?” I asked, staring up at the gold stickers dotting the ceiling.

“I don’t know the ins and outs of it, but I assume someone comes in, sucks it all up with a powerful vacuum, and then pumps it right back into the teddy with—whatever setting that takes,” he said, while running his fingers across the lines of my palm, and I was ticklish to the point of snatching hold of his finger, but his touch was always needed, like it healed me—at least, some part of it was healing.

I giggled. “Sucks it all.”

“Mhm, feeling naughty?” he asked, turning his head to me.

“Can we go to the ball pit as well?”

“We can do whatever it is you want,” he said. “As long as it involves me.”

I rolled onto his body, placed both hands on his face, and gave him the biggest kiss I’d ever given anyone else’s face before; it was a little wet, and just enough pressure. “Then I vote ball pit—oh, then maybe the cat room. I wanna try it all, I wanna go everywhere.”

“There’s no rush,” he said. “But whatever you want, I’ve already promised you that.”

I’d been nervous to do anything when I visited on their open night, like I was a voyeur, a guest, someone who others would’ve looked at and smirked—at least, that’s what my anxiety had told me. It wasn’t saying that now. Those words were well and truly devoured by the membership card I’d been given. I was a member now, and I was empowered to do everything to please my inner happiness, my little, squeezing through the pressure of work, the stress of life.

I was happy here. I was happy at the Playhouse.

* * *

Life had a strange way of rewarding people. I grew up being told that if you worked hard, you’d get where you wanted to be, and if you didn’t work hard, or you didn’t have ambition, then you’d become a nobody, and that seemed to be the worst thing in the world, like it was an identity.

I’d grown a lot since then, to the point I knew who I was, I knew what I liked, and how to make sure everything in my world came out sparkling. A deep contrast to the work I did which was rigid, formal, and always had to be delivered dry—law and legal systems were like that.

In Daddy’s room at the Playhouse, I lay looking at the ceiling. There were no stars on it . . . yet. Daddy said he’d do anything to make my happy, and stickers on the ceiling would do just that.

The beep of the hotel door sounded, and Daddy walked in with a paper bag in hand. “They have a huge selection of stickers,” he said, sitting on the edge of the bed, then lying right beside me. “So, I got you one of each.” He presented me with the stickers, poking out the top of the paper bag. “But I also have another offer.”

“A better offer?” I asked, giggling as I comforted up against his side. “What could be better than decorating the ceiling?”

“Well, coming back to my place,” he said. “The loft.”

“And—and decorating there?” I asked, eyes wide in surprise. “Because your space is very immaculate and—”

He laughed. “It’s not,” he said. “It’s plain, and when I was in the elevator just then, I was looking at all these glittery stickers thinking about how they might, you know, brighten my space up, and they’d be a part of you at my place.”

“Yes,” I said. “I wanna do that.”

He kissed me, pulling me on top of him. I managed to push the stickers away from getting crumpled.

“You mean it?” I asked.

“What’s one of the number one rules?”

“Uhm.”

“Close,” he chuckled. “Try again.”

“Honesty,” I answered. “I remember. You like to know whatever is on my mind, and you like to say whatever it is on your mind. At all times.”

“At most times,” he said. “I try not to do that in business, unless I have the upper hand.” He rolled me over on the bed with all his Daddy strength. His body weighed down on me like a blanket, soft and warm.

“And you have the upper hand now.”

“As a Daddy always should,” he said, nuzzling his face into my neck. “You smell delicious.”