Daddy's Girl: A Daddy Issues Novel by Rebel Wild (books to read for 13 year olds .TXT) 📕

so much makeup caked on my skin I’m afraid to smile, but I don’t bother to check it. When I’m done, I look up at this Mr. Garrett in question. He nods his approval and opens the door.

“Hey, Triscuit, your girl Friday’s here,” he tells him.

“Send her in,” I hear him say, and I inwardly groan.

I thought I was ready for this, but I’m not. If it was anybody but him, I would be okay. It was bad enough with him harassing me at Calhoun’s every chance he got, but to know I have to give my virginity to a man whom I’ve known since I was fifteen is just plain-out gross. I tried to get out of it last night. I almost begged him, but his instructions were firm and clear. I’m to give him whatever he wants. I propel myself forward until I’m in the center of the room.

“You’re on time. I like that. Stand in front of my desk,” he commands me from his chair and I move to obey. “Stop.” I freeze. “When I give you a command or ask you a question, I expect you to always respond with yes, sir.”

My heart drops into my stomach as I’ve already messed up.

“Oh, man.” The other Mr. Garrett groans before leaving the room and closing the door.

“I…” I start to apologize, but I’m not sure if I should.

“Well,” he says impatiently.

“Yes, sir,” I quickly say.

“You have much to learn, Miss Warren.” He sighs in frustration. “Move.”

“Yes, sir,” I say, and move to obey.

“That’s close enough.”

I stop.

“Yes, sir,” I say. I feel his eyes on me, but I don’t look at him. I don’t think I’m supposed to look at him. I read how they don’t like that.

“You’ve done a wonderful job bringing yourself up to par. I’m pleased.” I can’t believe he’s acting like this. He always seemed so normal. “You may look at me,” he tells me, and I do as he says.

I’m met with fierce dark eyes that seem to look right through me, but I know better than to disobey him and look away, so I divert my eyes to look at his forehead. Daddy taught me how to do that. It’s a trick used for shy people. A smirk plays on his lips and I know he’s aware of the tactic. He unbuttons the top of his shirt as he regards me thoughtfully.

“Are you ready to discuss what I expect when I’m dominating you?”

I nod.

“Do not nod your head. It is not very becoming. When I ask you a question, I want an actual answer.”

“Yes, sir,” I tell him. I’m once again unnerved. “I’m ready to discuss it.”

“Sit down,” he tells me and I obey. “I have a contract to offer you.”

“A contract, is that really necessary? I don’t like signing things.”

“This is a business deal and with that comes a contract.”

“Business, right, I get it.”

“Oh, you’ll get it all right and I’ll be the one to give it to you, but first things first: You need to always keep in mind that the nondisclosure agreement you signed when your father started working for me is still in effect.”

“I remember what my dad said when I signed it.”

“I hope he made it clear what will happen if you break it. Don’t think I’m stupid enough not to have safety measures in place if you get any bright ideas about going against me. This arrangement can easily be turned into you blackmailing me, just another case of the apple not falling far from the tree. You breathe a whisper of this to anyone and you’ll be keeping your father company in the prison system. You’re hot, but you’re not that fucking hot. I won’t hesitate to bury you if it means saving my ass.”

“I get it, okay.”

“I mean it, Miss Warren.”

“I know. I promise I’ll honor the NDA.”

After giving me a death glare for a full minute, he hands me a contract.

“This is what I expect of you,” he says, and I read it carefully.

I’m not surprised by the contract. These guys always want total control over women. I get to his “hard limits” section and there’s not much there, except for sex with animals. People actually do that. I’m relieved he’s not into any freaky stuff, except… wait…

“You want me to pee on you?”

“I’m not against it,” he says. “Shit happens.”

“Shit? You want me to—”

“I draw the line at scat play, Miss Warren,” he tells me, and I don’t even want to know what that’s all about. Images of babies playing with their poop come to mind. “Continue,” he says, pointing to the contract.

“Yes, sir,” I say, resuming my reading.

My God, he likes to do everything. I need to have a hard limits list. I don’t want him putting his fist up or down anything of mine. Whips and canes would be on my list for sure.

“It’s all very standard,” he says, tapping the tip of his pen on the table.

“I guess so, but for how long?”

“Normally, I don’t have lengthy contracts. I don’t like having subs around for more than a few hours for a week or two, but for you, I’m making an exception. It will be for six months.”

“Six months? Six whole months,” I say flipping through the contract to see if he actually has that in there and sure enough, it’s on the very last page right there in black and white.

“It will be twenty-four hours, seven days a week of total power exchange?”

“What does that mean?”

“TPE means I’ll control your every move for the next six months. It means you’re not leaving this house.”

“Wha…” I start, but stop to try to catch the wind he just knocked out of me.

“Do you have a problem with that?”

“Yes, I have a problem with that! Six months? That’s half a damn year.”

“I see those math tutors your father got for you paid off.”

“You never mentioned this power exchange being part of the deal, ever. I have a job and an apartment