Daddy’s Little Artist – Daddies For Dollars Read Online M.A. Innes

Categories Genre: BDSM, Erotic, M-M Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73035 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
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He shrugged, scrunching up his face. “Both? I think both is a good answer if it will get me spanked.”

Naughty boy.

“If you want to be spanked, I’m getting a real date first where we talk about limits that don’t involve name brand crayons versus store brands.” His limits list for little time was the strangest I’d ever heard of.

I might not have seen many personally…none really…but even the ones I’d found online hadn’t been as curious as Camden’s. So far, the only things I knew about his limits were spankings were fun, store brand crayons were evil, and he didn’t like squishy things.

That got another pleased giggle, but this time when I got a kiss, it was a light peck on the lips. “What kind of date?”

Hmm, that hadn’t taken much convincing.

Nope, I wasn’t going to compare him to other people. This was Camden, and so far, he’d been genuine and very much himself.

We would run into our own stumbling blocks, but I wasn’t going to give him someone else’s.

“Do you want a fun date where we go do something or a dinner date where we can talk?” His little side sparked for a moment as he thought about the question, and I could see he wanted to pick something fun, but after a quick moment, he sat straighter.

His grown-up side had won.

“Dinner date.” Then a wicked spark in his eyes gave him a naughty smile. “But you promised a spanking if we went out on a date. No takebacks.”

Trying not to laugh, I gave him what I hoped was a stern look. “Do you get to demand a spanking?”

His shiver said while I wasn’t scary, it was sexy.

I’d take it.

“No, Sir.” Wiggling closer, he went back to his previous tactic of manipulating me sweetly. “I just dreamed about you spanking me, Sir.”

He might’ve been honest, but he was also doing a delightful job of working to get what he wanted.

And since hard work should be encouraged, I stroked my hands down his back and cupped his ass cheeks. His low, needy whine said I hadn’t rushed him and gave me more confidence in my plan.

“Since it seems like spankings are not on the punishment side, I’ll have to say that only good boys get spankings.” Because the look on his face said he was expecting something happy at the end of all that wonderful pain.

So a reward it would be.

And that started with kneading his round cheeks and loving the way he moaned as he tried to look sweet and cute. “Yes, Sir. I’ll…I’ll be very good.”

We were going to need rules sooner rather than later because I wasn’t sure what good looked like in this case.

Was manipulating me good?

Did looking cute while he did it make it good?

At least I had to admit that making what he wanted clear was a good thing.

“I’m sure you will.” As long as he was working toward that spanking, I was confident about that. I just didn’t know what his sub side looked like.

His little side was mischievous and a terrible liar and adorable when he was trying to make me happy. I could’ve listed off a dozen things I found cute, but that was the only part of Camden I knew well. Mostly because it came out in him so easily.

“Where do you want to eat, Sir?” His cute routine centered around sweet smiles and soft kisses as he wiggled on me.

I approved, but I was having a hard time not laughing.

“Do you have a favorite? I’m fairly flexible.” And judging by little Camden’s food choices, I had a feeling big Camden might have more preferences about food than I did.

Yep.

He started out enamored with the idea of pancakes or a taco truck, but we finally settled on a local Italian place that had pasta that he loved and where we’d have privacy. Noodles and a spanking were a better choice than pancakes or tacos.

Camden was fascinating, but I was glad to see my spanking him rated higher than pancakes with whipped cream. The logistics just wouldn’t work. No matter what he thought, neither IHOP nor his favorite taco truck would give us enough privacy to discuss limits.

“Alright, you go change and then we’ll head out.” By the time he got ready and we actually made it to the restaurant, it’d be time for an early dinner. With most dates I’d have worried it would be too early to eat, but his wiggling had to burn through a thousand calories an hour and he hadn’t eaten breakfast.

“Change?” He looked down with a delightful confused look. “Oh, yeah.”

He’d been working again before I’d arrived and his well-loved painting clothes were perfect for creating masterpieces, but I wasn’t sure he’d want to go out to dinner with them on.

His sigh had me trying not to smile again. “The last time I went out like this, Grandmother called me the next day. The maître d' had tattled on me.”


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