Millionaire Daddy Read online

  Domination. Discipline.

  He was through and through a dominating personality, preferring the training and discipline to sexual submission—at least in the beginning. He’d remembered his profile he’d established on SubmissiveLife, almost three years before, during the first break he’d had with Catherine. They’d almost divorced at that time. Then she’d begged his forgiveness. A deep sigh rumbled from his chest from the memory alone.

  “What the hell?” Sliding closer to the computer, he typed in the address, trying to remember his penname, let alone his password. After three unsuccessful attempts, he was in, staring at the black and white photo he’d selected as his avatar. Not bad, even for an old guy. Grinning, he set out to update certain information. “Not bad.” There was just enough to be enticing without giving anything away.

  His fingers hovering over the computer, he held back, thinking about his actions before scanning through certain submissive profiles. They had to be close, at least in one of the surrounding counties, and he would prefer a younger submissive. Easier to train. Easier to mold. He narrowed his selection criteria, scrolling through more, uninterested in the heightened level of kink the majority of submissives deemed ideal. A single penname caught his attention—babygirlinneed. The name was direct, somewhat creative. When he clicked on the small avatar, he smiled. It appeared she’d used her real picture, only hiding her face with a lacey mask. Fascinating.

  His cock twitched, a gut instinct kicking in. She’d only set up the profile the night before and there was little information, a single connection made. Taking a gamble, he sent a friend request just as he heard his cell phone ringing. Groaning, he yanked the phone from the edge of the desk, snorting when he saw Carter’s number appear. The man was worried about him. How sweet.

  “Carter. I’m just dandy.”

  Carter laughed. “Who said I’m calling to check up on you?”

  “Cause I know my buddy.”

  “Yeah, well… Hey, I happened on an ad I thought I’d tell you about. Don’t shoot the messenger.”

  “An ad? For a hot new house in the Bahamas? A sinful car I just have to purchase? Better be something of that nature.”

  “Um… Like I said, don’t shoot the messenger,” Carter chortled. “I found this ad on Craigslist I thought you might be interested in.”

  “Excuse me? I’m not looking for a leather couch or a new employee,” Dominick stated, giving his buddy attitude in his tone.

  Clearing his throat, he exhaled before answering. “For a submissive.”

  “On Craigslist? You have to be shittin’ me.” Why in God’s name would anyone place an ad in a cheap online selling service? The person had to be out of their mind, or naïve as shit. “And what the hell are you doing looking on Craigslist in the first place?”

  “Looking for a spanking bench. Okay? Geez. Crucify me, will ya?”

  It was Dominick’s turn to laugh. “Wonders will never cease.”

  “So, listen to me about the ad. The girl sounds perfect for you.” Without waiting, he proceeded to read the wording, his tone full of inflections.

  He had to admit, he was at least slightly intrigued. “Interesting.”

  “You say that about entering a new restaurant. What do you really think?” Carter asked, some excitement in his tone of voice.

  “I think the girl is nuts. That’s what I think. She’ll be dead by the end of the week.”

  “Jesus Christ. Why don’t you just email and tell her that?”

  “Not my thing.”

  “Just do it. For God’s sake. What in the hell do you have to lose?”

  Dominick rubbed his eyes, tired of the same argument with the man. “What is her email address and I’ll consider it.”

  “Yes!”

  “I said consider, asshole.”

  Carter mumbled under his breath. “You’re going to die old and alone.”

  “I just might,” he hissed as he grabbed a pen. “What’s that email?”

  “Babygirlinneed at Gmail.”

  “What?” He blinked twice before shifting his gaze toward the computer screen. Coincidences he didn’t believe in. His cock twitched, creating a pinching sensation between his legs. He inhaled as he thought about the kink site. Was there such a thing as karma? Nope. Not in his life.

  “You heard me. Email her.”

  Dominick fingered the screen. “What the hell. I just might.”

  Chapter Three

  “You did what? Are you fucking out of your mind? Are you trying to get yourself killed?” Camie demanded, issuing a series of curse words. “Jesus Christ. You’re not that naïve.”

  “Wait a minute. You suggested Craigslist,” Jenna insisted, shuddering not only from the number of emails but the sheer blatant comments written by supposedly grown men. Maybe there were a few women tossed into the mix. One could never tell. She was overwhelmed, her pulse kicking into high gear. Or maybe she should say underwhelmed by the responses. Some couldn’t speak decent English, let alone try to describe anything but random sexual acts, the majority of which had to be illegal.

  Hey, babe. I’m the hard hitting man you’re looking for. Call me.

  Hi ya, bad little girl. I have a whip with your name on it.

  Come, girl. Big whip. Bigger dick.

  I’m gonna whip you real good.

  Jesus. She was shivering just from the few she had the time to read and there were dozens of them. Maybe more. All in one night?

  “I was joking when I told you that. I mean, come on, girl. I never thought you’d be serious about doing anything in the first place. First of all, I can’t believe that the assholes on the site allowed you to put an ad like that on their pages. Second, you will attract every mass murderer on the East Coast. You know that. Oh. My. God.”

  “Stop being so melodramatic. I’m not stupid. Okay?” Well, maybe she was. She’d let her guard down, opening herself up to unwanted attention, and yes, including from crazies who just might sell her to some Arabian sheik.

  Camie issued a series of heady groans. “I am so worried. What are you going to do? Let me think. Delete the ad then hide. That’s it.”

  She chuckled as she clicked off the email, shutting down her computer. “I created a fake email address with no information. I can check out the crazies first and see if I want to talk to any of them just via the internet. Nothing more. Stop being a mother hen.”

  “They can be anybody they want to be behind a computer. You have to remember that.”

  “Tell me something I don’t already know. Stop worrying. I’m a safety girl. Okay? Besides, I have to get ready for work.”

  “You really have to be careful, honey. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

  Jenna walked toward the bathroom, flipping on the light. “Your idea. Keep that in mind.”

  “Don’t remind me. I’m going to go and shoot myself before breakfast. Call me later.”

  “Yes, Mommy dearest.” She dropped her phone and groaned, glaring at her reflection before removing her nightgown. Eyeing the wooden hairbrush, she lifted her eyebrows before wrapping her fingers around the handle. She shifted until she could see her ass then reached back, smacking her ass cheeks several times. The sting was delicious but certainly not satisfying. There had to be a better way.

  The day couldn’t have gone by any slower. Jenna looked at the clock at least a dozen times, wishing the lunch hour would arrive.

  She couldn’t stop thinking about the scores of emails as well as Camie’s warning. She’d even brought her laptop with her and as soon as the lunch hour hit, she found a quiet spot at a local fast food joint and navigated to her Gmail account. At least thirty other messages had come in. “Delete. Delete. Delete. Maybe. Oh, hell, no.” Why saying the words out loud made the fantasy land she’d created a touch more real, she’d never know. By the time she was finished with sorting through the assholes, she had three in the maybe pile and two of them were questionable.

  Huffing, she was ready to slam the
lid shut and gobble down her salad when she decided to navigate toward her account on SubmissiveLife. She had one request for friendship. Boy, she was burning up the internet pages. She glanced at the guy’s profile. Interesting. Yes, she adored the black and white picture and accepted. She shoved a fork full of food in her mouth as she glanced at his limited information. He was a dominant. Check. He believed in discipline. Check. He was looking to mentor a mischievous young lady, providing rules and punishment as necessary. Hmmm… Double checks.

  Just to be nice, she wrote him a note.

  I’m looking for a disciplinarian who lives in the Richmond area, but I’m selective and certainly not an idiot. Tell me why I would choose you.

  She giggled, gobbling down several more bites, satisfied that she had the swing of this. A series of thoughts and visions entered her mind, being taken over a man’s lap, spanked like the bad little girl she truly was.

  “You’re one very bad little girl, princess. You’re disobedient and mouthy. You can’t seem to follow any of my rules. That hurts me. Daddy is going to have to spank you and your punishment will be severe. Do you understand?” He held both of her arms, caressing in a gentle and loving fashion, his eyes full of kindness.

  “Yes, Daddy. I try to be good. I really do.”

  “I know that. Now, take off your pretty dress and panties.”

  She watched as he unfastened his belt, taking his time to pull the thick leather strap from the loops on his trousers. Tears had already formed from his chastisement. She hated to disappoint her daddy. Sniveling, she removed her dress, folding and placing it just so on his table. Lowering her head, she fumbled to release the clasps on her bra, humiliated that she was going to be spanked completely naked. Her legs were shaking as she attempted to lower her panties, hunkering down in order to pick them up.

  “Come here,” Daddy said, his voice soothing yet firm. He sat down on the hardback chair, patting his lap. “Over my lap, little girl.”

  She had difficulty walking to him, the anticipation killing her.

  “Would you like to tell me why you need a hard spanking?”

  Nibbling on her finger, she thought about every infraction. “I’ve cursed. A lot. I’ve been late to work twice and lied to my boss. I haven’t gone to bed when I was supposed to. I called you a few names.”

  “Hmmm… All serious infractions. Let’s make certain we help ease your guilt. I’m going to warm you up with thirty from my hand then fifty from my belt.”

  Fifty. She wouldn’t be able to sit for a full day. The second he eased her over his lap, placing his warm hand on her back, she began to float, ready for her punishment, taking it like a good little girl. He said a few other soothing words, easing her into a calm place.

  Then the spanking began.

  Jenna twisted in her seat, her stomach in knots, her pussy clenching. She blinked away the vision, licking her dry lips and scanning the people around her. No one seemed to realize she was on the verge of climaxing.

  God, she needed a hard spanking.

  Would she ever find a man she could trust? Could she ever really see herself draped over a stranger’s knees, thriving from his firm hand? Suddenly, the salad left a distinct and very bad taste in her mouth.

  * * *

  Dominick found the listing and toyed with answering. He had no doubt the girl had received copious numbers of emails and by now, she was probably disgusted with her tactic. He’d also checked SubmissiveLife and seeing her personal message had created a dichotomy of reactions. He’d realized the little girl indeed needed a firm hand, which brought out his dominating tendencies. He’d also been hard as a rock for a solid thirty minutes. There was no logical reason why, but he was turned on as fuck.

  He cracked his knuckles and glared at the screen. Why not answer on both locations? Couldn’t hurt. If she was serious and they could develop a conversational relationship, then maybe… He closed his eyes, partially disgusted with himself. What did he know about being a true disciplinarian? What implements did he have in his repertoire? Exactly none. Unless you could call certain wooden spoons and his favorite belt the beginning of a collection. He could certainly remedy that in a short period of time. Maybe he would, just in case. A smile crossed his face as he began to type.

  I’m very professional, my particular job disallowing any disclosure. I’m considered honest to a fault and hundreds of men and women trust my sage advice. I believe all women deserve strict rules, stern punishment as necessary. I also refuse to take any bullshit or play any games. If you are serious about finding the right person to serve your needs, let me know. And you are correct. There will be no attachments. Period. Tell me more about yourself, as well as your needs in order for us to see if there is a slight chance we will connect. Be succinct as well as direct. As this is a business arrangement, nothing more, there will be terms of the deal that I will determine IF we decide to proceed any further.

  He hesitated before signing but what the hell. Master Dominick.

  Dominick took a sip of his scotch and sat back, rereading the message. Straight. To the point. And without any fluff. Perfect. He hit send and closed the various programs.

  At least for now.

  He left his office, taking an early evening swim before preparing his favorite pasta dinner. As he sat outside on the deck with a glass of his favorite cabernet, jazz music on the iPod, he realized he had hope that this would work out. He made a mental list of what he wouldn’t accept.

  No drug addicts.

  No money grubbers.

  No one even close to eighteen.

  No wild girls with dark, kinky desires.

  That was enough at this point. And what about the implements? He was more excited as he planned out what he would and should purchase.

  Paddles.

  Leather straps.

  Floggers.

  Canes.

  That would do for an excellent start. He finished dinner, refilled his wine, and proceeded to order everything he thought would work. Over four hundred dollars later, he was placated. For now. His curiosity getting the better of him, he moved back to the computer. Seeing her answer on the kink site, he was forced to admit he was thrilled.

  Master Dominick. I am also a professional, working an eight to five job. I’m almost twenty-seven, unmarried, and without any attachments. My needs are simple. I hunger to find the right man to provide me with discipline on a regular basis. I’ve always longed to be controlled, rules provided. I know I can thrive with strict punishment as necessary. I feel I’m floundering, unable to better myself. I see everyone I know succeeding in business as well as love and I’m alone, terrified of what tomorrow will bring. I’ve never done this before, so I’m uncertain how it works, but as I mentioned, I’m happy to come to you. Lunch hour. Before or after work. The weekends. Whatever works for you. But, I need to talk more in order to ensure that you aren’t an asshole, abusive, or ready to slice my throat. Just that simple.

  Her words were frank. They were straight to the point. And he was hooked on the concept of moving further. He also realized for the first time that he’d used his real first name years ago when setting up SubmissiveLife. Sighing, he knew this could get messy if anyone found out what he was considering. Even though Catherine was getting remarried, she’d stop at nothing to serve him up to his own board of directors as a sick sadistic fuck.

  If this went forward, the very first rule would be absolute confidentiality. In fact, he’d have his attorney draw up a nondisclosure agreement. If he couldn’t trust his own attorney, then who could he trust? Satisfied that he could make this work, as long as they connected, he answered.

  Even as we talk, there will be rules that I require you to follow. They will be simple at first, but if you can’t follow these, I will not be able to trust you’ll follow others. One, you will email me when you leave your house in the morning and when you arrive back at home. This particular rule will become stricter if we move forward. Two, you will never mention our conversations t
o anyone. This will be considered a breach in our initial trust and you will never hear from me again. And three, you will address me as Sir or Master Dominick when talking with me. There will be no exceptions. Do you understand?

  At least he’d set up a bogus email account at the same time he’d established his profile on SubmissiveLife. He sat back, finishing up what was left of his wine. Waiting for her reply. There was no hesitation. She could be trained and definitely desired to be obedient.

  Yes, Sir.

  “Excellent,” he half whispered.

  The next time he looked at the clock, it was close to midnight. They’d been exchanging messages for the last several hours. He found baby girl, as he’d taken to calling her, highly intelligent and poised, as well as with a good sense of humor. She also had a mouth on her, something he could correct easily enough. He laughed at himself, realizing he’d already accepted the position as her dom, her disciplinarian, her caretaker of sorts.

  This was the perfect kind of relationship.

  Tired from the long day, his last message was succinct.

  Remember your rules, baby girl. Have a good night. I will expect to hear from you tomorrow.

  This time, he didn’t wait for her reply. As he left his office, he had a huge smile on his face. This was exactly what he’d needed all along. On the way to his bedroom, he made a call. He could only imagine his attorney’s face when he listened to the message. He tingled at the thought.

  “Troy. I need you to do me a favor. I need a nondisclosure and this is absolute client confidentiality. Let me give you the details and no, you can’t ask me any sordid questions.”