We were waiting for the train and I was being incessantly pouty because he wouldnāt let me go to the other side of the city to retrieve a pair of boots I keep at the office. Theyāre super sexy and I wanted to wear them, but we had plans and no time to rearrange our commute. His logic was sound, but being told no still made me feel a wee bit petulant.Ā
He tolerated it for a bit, but then he gave me The Look. You know the look Iām talking about. Itās also called the Careful, Young Lady look, or the Youāre Pushing It look. Whenever Iām on the receiving end of it, I get squirmy and immediately feel tiny. I buried my face into his chest. I do that a lot when Iām in trouble or being chastised; I leaned into him as if snuggles were going to save me from a spanking. I mumbled sorry into his shirt and he said,Ā āsorry, what?ā I hesitated, not expecting him to prompt me in public, even though the subway platform was mostly empty. āSorry daddy,ā I said. I felt myself starting to throb.
On another day, we were in Zara and I couldnāt decide between two tops. I really wanted them both. I help one up, stared at it longingly, and looked at him.Ā āI can have both?ā I asked. I expected either a yes or no, but he said,Ā āHow do you ask permission for something?ā My eyes widened. The store was busy enough that it wouldāve been easy to be overheard. People pushed past us every couple seconds.Ā
āBut weāre in public,ā I protested.
The look on his face made it very clear that he didnāt care.
āMay I have both, please?ā I whispered. He didnāt make me call him āsirā or ādaddyā, but I still felt like Iād been reminded of my place.
When he daddies me in public like that, itās always a pleasant surprise. It pulls me out of whatever distracted headspace Iām in and anchors me. Goes without saying that itās hot as hell, too. Iām still getting used to being mindful of my behavior outside of the bedroom. Itās not that I forget Iām his submissive when weāre out and about; I just donāt usually make a conscious effort to behave like his submissive when weāre not behind closed doors.
Itās a good thing, then, that heās there to remind me of exactly who and what I am.
Heās there to remind me that, no matter where we are, I remain firmly under his thumb.
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