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He found walking to be dangerous.

Chapter 3

Dane

“I promise, Daddy. I can walk.” His frown seemed to disagree with me, but he didn’t directly call me out on it. He simply wrapped one limb strategically around my back like he was ready to catch me if I so much as coughed.

“You were descending toward the ground at a rapid velocity.” He was trying to play it cool, but I could hear the tension in his voice. “That is not safe. I will endeavor to prevent you from coming to physical harm, little human.”

I wasn’t sure what that meant practically, but I was glad he understood he couldn’t prevent me from getting my feelings hurt.

“I tripped. I’ll pay more attention.” Somehow explaining that it was an accident had seemed to make everything worse. He’d physically recoiled at the idea of a human getting distracted by the stuff in their head and then tripping over nothing.

“That would be helpful, little human.” The way his limb tightened said he doubted my ability to actually do it, though. “However, I understand sometimes human submissives require physical reminders to make a change in their behavior.”

It took me way too long to realize physical reminders were spankings.

And that had me tripping over nothing again.

Daddy actually sighed and wrapped another tentacle around me. It was almost like I was wearing a safety belt because he thought walking was entirely too dangerous. “Yes, I will research options to help you remember that safety is important.”

That was…

I scrambled to figure out a better plan than whatever he could come up with from the internet as we finally got to my store. Daddy looked confused as I unlocked the front, making me realize I might not have explained where we were going. “I live upstairs, Daddy.”

In my defense, he was distracting as hell.

“That is very convenient.” He perked up as we walked inside and I locked the door behind us. “Daily driving in human automobiles has a much higher rate of fatalities when compared to walking.”

Walking bad.

Cars worse.

Got it.

But he frowned as we headed up a small staircase at the back of the store. “I shall have to do additional research on how stairs change the statistics.”

Oh, I didn’t like the sound of that.

“I’ll use the handrail, Daddy.” Holding it tight and making a show of taking every step carefully, I didn’t let myself get distracted—and I did my best not to even think about falling down the last two steps a few weeks ago when I wasn’t paying attention.

“Rules for dangerous situations shall be part of our relationship dynamics, little human.” He said it with such confidence I found myself nodding before I realized what he meant.

I was going to have rules for going down the stairs safely.

Did that mean I shouldn’t tell Daddy that I’d signed up for rock climbing lessons?

We’d come back to that.

“Rules are important, Daddy.” That wasn’t agreeing, was it? “What do you want for lunch?”

That sounded like a much safer conversation, but as we went into my apartment, he frowned again. “Kitchens have a statistically significant number of household-related accidents. Only bathrooms are more dangerous, little human.”

Oh.

“I’ve never had any safety issues in the kitchen, Daddy.” Nothing that I could think of at least. “How about I make us some sandwiches and show you how careful I can be?”

That couldn’t make him nervous, right?

Daddy frowned but nodded as we finally walked into the kitchen. “Yes, I will be a very patient Daddy and make sure you are safe as you provide for us. Human submissives sometimes find joy in serving others.”

Giggling would not have been the right response, but the image of him searching through the internet trying to get data on human submissives was just too cute. It was like he’d been reading some book on the care and keeping of humans.

“However.” Daddy had the Daddy-stare down really well and even made me squirm as he paused. “Cutting utensils must not be sharp. You must also articulate your steps and decisions as you prepare our meal so that I may anticipate potential difficulties.”

His view of my abilities should’ve probably frustrated me, but somehow it made my little side want to pout and stomp my feet. “I can do it, Daddy. I’m a big boy.”

Oh, not terribly big evidently.

“It is not your size or gender designation that is at issue here, little human.” Daddy crossed two limbs over his torso.

It was such a human look I almost giggled before I remembered I should be pouting…or something. “I’ll show you, Daddy.”

I could do it.

Yes, I’d show Daddy I was a big boy.

****

“It was just slippery, Daddy.” I held my yucky fingers out for him to see. “It only poked me.”

Mayo was so good but so slippery.

Sometimes it got everywhere…including on the knife…but it was a butter one so that wasn’t dangerous even if I got poked.

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