Page 51 of Daddy's Lesson
“Yes, Daddy.” I sighed, ignoring the pain for now and getting to work so he could start the damn timer. Sitting for an hour was going to suck enough without that time being prolonged for any reason. Picking up the brush, I forced the negative feelings to the back of my mind and just started with number one.
It was tough at first; my artistic mind warred with my perfectionist side as I tried to stay inside the allotted lines perfectly, but at least I didn’t have to think about anything besides that. Number one paint went in all the spots that had a one in them. I didn’t have to make any choices or even think at all, really. It was mind-numbing, and honestly could not have been more perfect. Just the act of holding the brush in my hand, dipping it in the paint, the feeling of it brushing against the paper. All of it felt good. Felt right.
Before I knew it, I was halfway through the project when Lennon’s watch beeped.
“That’s one hour,” he said from somewhere behind me.
“Really? Already?” I asked, making no move to stand or even set the brush down.
“Yes, already.”
I finished the spot I’d been working on and turned to find him with his back to me.
“Are you painting on my wall?” I pushed the chair out and stood, my body stiff from being in the same position for an hour.
“I am. The splatter in this section inspired me,” he explained, as if it was a perfectly normal practice to start painting on someone’s dining room walls without consulting them first.
When I stepped up to see what he had done, though, I couldn’t find a modicum of frustration for the liberties he’d taken. Somehow Lennon had managed to turn some random colorful paint splatter into a stunning, eye-catching image of a horse. Well, the head of a horse, at least. Most of what he’d painted so far was scenery, sky, and a field with a giant willow tree. The horse was off in the background, but somehow still the focal point.
“Horses are known for strength and resilience. They’re strong and noble and beautiful. They remind me of a certain woman I’m becoming quite fond of.”
Tears burned the backs of my eyes as he explained himself.
“Maybe I was less inspired by the paint splatters and more inspired by you,” he confessed, finally taking his focus off painting and turning his attention in my direction.
“That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.”
He didn’t say anything else, just smiled as he turned to see what I’d accomplished. It was a little embarrassing that I’d spent all that time on something so juvenile and he’d begun an entire mural in the same amount of time. But that was my own thinking. The smile that crossed Lennon’s face told me he didn’t feel that way.
“I like this,” he praised. “When it’s finished, I want to frame it and hang it in my office.”
“What? That’s ridiculous. No way are you doing that!”
“Are you telling Daddy ‘no’, naughty girl?” I unconsciously took a step backward.
“I… it's just…. it's a silly little art project. It’s not worthy of being on a wall for anyone to see.”
My bravado began to slip further as he set the canvas back on the table and turned to face me fully. My mouth went dry and my stomach clenched when he crossed his arms over his chest and raised a brow at me.
“Are you telling me what I should think is worthy of space on my walls? Are you the be-all and end-all on what is worthy and what isn’t?”
“Of course I’m not, but…” I waved my hand toward the table, not really knowing what else to say.
Lennon clicked his tongue and shook his head. “I think it might be time for lesson number three.” He held out his hand to me.
My pulse began to race as I remembered the results of lessons one and two. “I don’t want another spanking,” I whimpered, shaking my head.
“I”m not planning to spank you again today unless you force my hand and don’t obey. There are other ways to teach a stubborn girl her lessons.”
That felt really ominous, and I suddenly wished more spankings were on the table.
“How many lessons are there?” I asked with [caution and skepticism] laced in my tone.
“As many as there need to be.”
“Does that mean you’re making this up as we go?”
“I’m pivoting and adjusting as I see fit. No more questioning my methods.”