The Institute:Daddy Issues(10)By: Evangeline Anderson
Salt looked suddenly guarded. “It was not something you needed to know. Some things are best forgotten.”
Well, I certainly knew how he felt. I would be happy to forget my whole childhood if it came to that.
“I don’t know,” I began but just then Salt’s doorbell rang. “I’ll get it,” I said and went for the door.
Professor Stevens was standing just outside the doorway with a drycleaner’s bag in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other.
“Hi,” he said, smiling broadly. “I thought maybe we got off on the wrong foot earlier so I’d like to make amends and start fresh.” He handed me the bottle which looked like a pretty decent red.
“Thanks.” I stepped aside to let him in. “And I’m sorry if I was what Salt calls ‘prickly’ earlier. I’m just not really thrilled about this assignment.”
“I understand,” he said quickly, following me into the kitchen. “It’s a lot to take in if you’re not already into kink.”
“Well, I’m not,” I said bluntly. “I can’t speak for Salt, here, but I know for myself, I’m about as vanilla as they come.”
“Vanilla?” Salt asked, frowning.
“Non-kinky,” I explained. “Not into whips and chains and spanking—that kind of thing.”
“Ah.” He nodded.
Stevens frowned. “Well, you don’t have to worry about whips and chains at the Institute but paddles and hairbrushes is another story entirely. A big part of the Daddy/Babygirl dynamic is discipline.”
“What? Are you serious? Salt might have to…to spank me for real?” I felt a strange little quiver in my belly as I said it and I couldn’t look at my partner. “But that’s crazy.”
“No, that’s part of the Big/Little relationship,” Stevens said matter-of-factly. “The stern Daddy corrects his wayward little girl and them comforts her afterwards. Look, why don’t we eat and then I can tell you a little more about it.”
“Please…” Salt indicated a seat for him at the end of the rectangular table. He himself took the other end and I sat at his right hand. It was how we always sat when we ate together. I liked being able to have a good conversation with my partner without shouting. Salt was already so tall I felt like I was talking up to him half the time so it made sense to sit closer.
I served out the soup and sandwiches, playing the little woman, and Salt decanted and poured out the wine Stevens had brought. We ate in silence for a few minutes until I couldn’t stand it anymore.
“Okay, let’s stop beating around the bush,” I said to Stevens. “Tell us what we can expect.”
“I’ll tell you what you can’t expect,” he said grimly. “You can’t expect to go into the Institute and shoot off your mouth to your Daddy without arousing suspicion. You can’t talk to him the way you were talking to your Captain during your briefing.”
“Shoot off my mouth?” I put my soup spoon down and raised an eyebrow at him. “Did you really just say that to me?”
Salt had also lowered his spoon and there was a murderous glint in his pale blue eyes.
“You will respect my partner,” he said in a low growl. “Or there will be consequences.” It was about as much of a warning as he ever gave.
Stevens paled a little but held his ground.
“I’m just telling you that a slave—a Babygirl in this case—can’t talk so freely to her Master or Daddy without being seen as a ‘brat.’ And unless you’re looking for a punishment, bratting will get you into big trouble.”
“Bratting?” I shook my head. “What the hell is that?”
“Speaking out too freely to your Daddy—sassing is the term they use at the Institute. Among other things,” Stevens said. “Being sassy to your Daddy or other Bigs will earn you a reputation you don’t want.”
I put a hand on my hip. “In other words, don’t speak my opinion. Just shut up like a good little girl and do what Daddy tells me.”
“Essentially, yes.” The professor nodded.