Dear Daddy Please Punish Me (Naughty or Nice Book 8) Read online




  Dear Daddy, Please Punish Me

  Naughty Or Nice

  Skyler Snow

  Contents

  Naughty Or Nice Series

  1. Diego

  2. Fitch

  3. Diego

  4. Fitch

  5. Diego

  6. Fitch

  7. Diego

  8. Fitch

  9. Diego

  10. Fitch

  11. Diego

  12. Fitch

  13. Diego

  14. Fitch

  15. Diego

  16. Fitch

  17. Diego

  18. Fitch

  19. Diego

  20. Fitch

  21. Diego

  22. Fitch

  23. Diego

  24. Fitch

  25. Diego

  Epilogue

  Ready for Layne’s Story?

  More Naughty or Nice?

  Also by Skyler Snow

  Skyler Snow

  Copyright © 2020 Skyler Snow

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and events are a product of the author’s imagination. Any similarities to actual persons, living or dead, is pure coincidence. As are any similarities to any businesses, events or locations.

  All products and brand names mentioned are registered trademarks of their respective holder and or company. I do not own the rights to these, nor do I claim to.”

  Sign up for Skyler’s newsletter for exclusive content and to learn more about her latest books: https://www.skylersnow.com/newsletter

  Naughty Or Nice Series

  Dear Daddy, Please Love Me

  Dear Daddy, Please Spank Me

  Dear Daddy, Please Hold Us

  Dear Daddy, Please Want Me

  Dear Daddy, Please Praise Me

  Dear Daddy, Please Keep Me

  Dear Daddy, Please Punish Me

  Dear Daddy, Please Trust Me

  1

  Diego

  Sweat dripped down my chest as I made it back to my apartment and looked at the time. Almost seven-thirty. I had made my ten miles in great time and I still had to get showered, dressed, eat, and head to work.

  My phone rang and I wrangled it out of my sweats before I looked at the caller ID. Abigail. Groaning, I took a deep breath and pushed the answer button.

  "Good morning, Abigail. What can I do for you?"

  "Are you coming in anytime soon? Benjamin is here and he's such a bore." She sighed as if she had the weight of the world on her shoulders. "I keep telling him being dull is not a personality trait."

  I pinched the bridge of my nose, but I couldn't stop the grin that formed on my lips. If Abigail had it her way she would drive each of us insane. But I knew Ben was probably standing nearby, fuming. She loved to poke fun at him, her favorite bodyguard, even if she wouldn't admit it.

  "You know I don't come in until nine."

  Abigail groaned. "Fine, then. I'll be here. Tortured with mediocrity."

  "Abigail..." Ben growled in the background. "We have to go."

  I chuckled as she blew kisses through the phone before she hung up. There was something about Abigail I liked. She was a weirdo, but the woman was endlessly entertaining. I guess I shouldn't be surprised. Abigail made her name being a popular soap star and she was as dramatic in real life as she was on tv.

  Shaking my head, I walked into my apartment and tugged off my dirty clothes before I placed them neatly in the hamper. If there was one thing I was used to, it was order. Everything was perfectly in place, neat, and tidy. I liked it that way.

  I showered and shaved before I dressed in my outfit for the day. Abigail insisted we didn't need to dress up, but I still preferred to wear a button up shirt, tie, and dark slacks. The only thing I wore remotely casual were my black sneakers, but it was easier to run in those than dress shoes. I grabbed my things when I was finished and decided to tie my hair up into a ponytail before I headed to Abigail’s.

  "Took you long enough, damn," Benji mumbled when I strolled up to him, at exactly nine am.

  "How do you figure?" I raised a brow. "Is your woman too much for you?"

  Ben glared. "She decided to 'clean the house' in the skimpiest fucking nightgown. All she did was bend over and dust shit." He took a deep breath. "She's trying to fuck me. I swear she is."

  I grinned. "Well this job won't last forever. I'm sure you two will be great together."

  Ben shoved up a middle finger. "Yeah, Pops always reinforced one of his many lessons. 'Don't stick your dick in crazy.' My shift is over. It's your turn to watch over Madame Insanity." He clapped a hand onto my shoulder. "Good luck."

  I shook my head and walked into the penthouse. Abigail was on the phone, lounging on the couch. When she saw me she wiggled her fingers and went back to very loudly arguing with someone. I stayed out of it. Instead, I met up with Thomas, my partner for the day.

  "Yo, Daddy Diego." He grinned. "Good morning."

  "How many times do I have to ask you not to call me that?" I poured myself a cup of coffee and drank the pitch black liquid.

  "I can't help that it fits you." He waved a hand toward me. "You got that vibe."

  I rolled my eyes. "You've been on that clock app again. Why do all young people talk like that now?"

  Thomas rolled his eyes. "It's Tik-Tok, and the answer is because we're awesome."

  I didn't know about that, but I wasn't going to argue with him. At forty-two years old, I wasn't exactly up to date on what the younger crowd was doing, nor did I care. My friends were all my age or older and hung out in dark bars or pool halls. Thomas was only twenty-five, and while he was competent at his job, he confused the hell out of me. He was my only young friend for good reason.

  I settled down at the kitchen table with him and pulled out my phone. We didn't have to do much in the morning. We swept the premises a few times a day, I handled travel arrangements, cars, staff backgrounds. Thomas was more of my second in command, doing whatever I needed him to. Abigail had made an enemy and it was our job to keep the death threats from becoming reality. We were always on high alert, but during laid back moments like this we could relax a little before we started moving with her during the day.

  "Don't tell me you're reading again."

  I glanced up at him. "And what if I am?"

  "What do you even read that intently? It's everyday."

  I quickly glanced back down at my phone. Now that, I didn't want to talk about. I always told him I was reading, but I wasn’t. One of my guilty pleasures was a chat room where people looked for Daddies. It was fun, light, and most of all, it wasn't a commitment. I was okay fantasizing online, because in real life no one could handle what I had to offer and I didn't want to be disappointed again.

  "Nothing." I clicked the side of my phone, ignoring the messages and glanced up at Thomas. "Just a dumb app."

  "Sure." He raised a brow at me. "When's the last time you did anything besides your insane morning run and work?”

  Groaning, I feigned interest in my cup of coffee because I didn't want to have this conversation. Thomas wasn't the only one that had taken an interest in my damn love life. They were all driving me crazy.

  "Oh, it’s been way too long." Abigail wandered into the kitchen still wrapped in a fluffy pink robe and kitten heel slippers. I was convinced she thought that she was a 1950's movie star. "And I tell you that all
of the time, Deigo. You're much too sexy to be wasting all of those tall, dark, and hot as hell Cuban features on nobody."

  I waved a hand down the front of my body. "This is a gift to the world, Abigail. One person shouldn’t possess it."

  She scoffed. "Cocky." Grinning, she sat at the table with a cup of coffee which she poured copious amounts of sugar into. "But you really should go out. You can't stick around here forever."

  "Literally my job," I mumbled against my mug. "Besides, what would you do without me?"

  "Have some fun first of all. You doing a background check on all of my hook-ups isn't exactly a mood setter."

  "Would you rather be dead?"

  Abigail sighed. "You make a good point." She leaned forward, resting her chin in her palm. "We're friends, Diego. I want you to stop being so uptight. Seriously."

  "Tell him," Thomas mumbled and I shot him a glare.

  "You act as if you're all laid back, but you're wound up too tightly. Get yourself out there."

  What was I supposed to say to them? There was no way in hell I could just go on blind dates and find what I needed. My deepest, darkest desire was finding someone who I truly connected with. Someone who would get on their knees the moment I asked. Someone who would worship my cock and take my pain and in the end still love me for who I was as much as I loved them.

  I wasn't so sure I was ever going to find that.

  “Try my hookup site. It’s great. I’ve met some lovely people there.” Abigail smiled. It was nice to have another bi-sexual around that understood me. “Seriously, they’re even doing a Holiday thing that might make you a little less grumpy.”

  I raised a brow. “I’m a ray of sunshine.”

  “Bullshit!” She laughed. “You put on that persona and it fades so damn fast by the end of the day it could make anyone’s head spin.” Abigail pushed her phone toward me. “Cuffd. Seriously, download it now and go get yourself some ass.”

  “You can never be professional can you?” I groaned.

  “No!” She and Thomas laughed at the same time and I shook my head at them.

  I decided to give the app a look. What was the worst that could happen?

  2

  Fitch

  I stared at the page until my eyes blurred. Nope, I couldn't do it anymore. I needed coffee, food, and a long, hot shower. Glancing at my phone, I groaned. I was going to be lucky to get two out of three before I had to be at Sinai Grace, the hospice home where I volunteered on my days off.

  "Fitch! Are you ready to go?" My brother pounded on my door and I groaned. "Come on, man."

  I stood up and unlocked my door. My older brother loomed over me, a grin on his lips. Clearly, he'd had a good night. Even when he was going to school, he'd been the partying type and the same could be said now. I, on the other hand, didn't go out much. I had too much to get done and my anxiety made huge crowds overwhelming.

  "Your breath smells like dog shit." I glared at him.

  Aaron blew out a breath at me and I choked as he grinned. "Is that anyway to treat your big bro?" He peeked over my shoulder. "Another long night at the desk, huh? You know it’s morning, right? Did you even sleep?"

  "Yes, it was a long night and no, I haven’t slept. Some of us want to graduate with more than a 2.0."

  Gripping his shirt, Aaron gasped. "How dare you? I got a 2.1"

  "Idiot." I shoved a hand against his chest and he let me push his massive stature out of my way. "I still need to take a shower and grab some coffee."

  "We'll get some on the way."

  I shook my head. "I can't afford to buy coffee everyday. How am I ever going to be able to afford a car? You can't drive me around forever."

  "True, but coffee is on me today."Aaron laughed when I looked at him suspiciously. "Seriously, you've been working your ass off. The least I can do is buy you a coffee."

  Every once in a while, Aaron wasn't a complete ass. I thanked him and grabbed my stuff so I could get ready for the day. As soon as the hot water touched my skin, I no longer felt half dead. I dragged myself out and dressed in the jeans, t-shirt, and sneakers that I did everyday.

  "Ready to go," I said as I pushed my fingers through my hair. "What are you doing?"

  "Oh, messaging this guy." Aaron lounged at our small kitchen table, his shoes resting on its surface. "He's hot, don't you think?"

  I peered at the screen. The guy was pretty good looking; tall, muscular, but not overly, so with dark hair, brown skin and the most piercing brown eyes I'd ever seen in my life. My eyes scrolled down and Aaron pulled it away.

  "Don't go eye-fucking him. I want this one." He grinned.

  I laughed. "He's okay looking, I guess," I lied.

  "Yeah right. He's a solid ten and I want him to rearrange my guts."

  "Gross! Don't tell your brother these things." I shook my head. "What are you even on?"

  "Cuffd. They're doing this Dear Santa thing where you can write a letter in the app looking for a Daddy or Domme. Whatever you're into."

  "And you're into everything," I mumbled.

  "Guilty." Aaron winked at me and I feigned a gag. "You should check it out. I've talked with some really awesome guys on here." He tilted his head. "But this one might be too intense for me."

  "Why?"

  "Well, it’s been a while since he’s been active, but he literally describes himself as a sadist. I like a bit of pain, but I'm no masochist." Aaron shoved his phone into his pocket once he stood up. "You ready?"

  I nodded, but my mind was on what my brother said. By now, we both knew each other's kinks in some way or the other. We'd had boyfriends around, friends that talked too much, and even some late night drunken discussions where we opened up about that stuff. The one thing I never admitted to was the fact that I was a masochist. It felt so personal, something to keep close to my chest.

  Maybe it's because I don't want to tell my brother 'Hey, I like to get hurt by my partner! Please don't call the cops if you ever hear me crying. I want it.'

  I both wanted to laugh and die just thinking about that. Aaron would look at me like I'd lost my mind. It's not like I ever brought anyone home anyway. Not anymore. After the last few disappointing exchanges, I had given up.

  Seriously, who thought one smack on the ass was hardcore? Or a hand around the throat for all of five seconds? None of the men who bragged about what they would do to me could measure up to what I needed. And they wanted me to call them Daddy?

  No way in hell.

  "Morning, Fitch," Tallie sang from the front desk. "Are you going to visit Mr. Morris?"

  "Yep, I brought him a donut just like he's been hounding me for." I grinned. "Don't tell Martha."

  Tallie raised a brow. "You think I would tell that witch anything? No way." She grinned. "You two have fun."

  "Will do."

  I'd lugged my laptop along with me so we could watch movies instead of the 'bullshit that they play on that damn television' as Morris called it. After knocking on his door, I let myself in. Morris looked up from his hospital bed and I saw the briefest smile before he went back to looking grouchy.

  "Morning, Mr. Morris."

  "Morning." He grumbled. "Well come on then boy, close the door."

  I shut the door behind me. Well, he was in a better mood than usual. Sometimes he didn't want me to see him at all. Not that I could blame him. Stage 4 prostate cancer was devastating and on the days when he wanted to be alone, I knew he was in pain, either physically or mentally. Either way, I respected his space. But I enjoyed the days when he was in a good mood.

  "Look what I brought." I looked around as if we were being watched and saw his curiosity peak before I slipped out the sour cream donut. "Ta-da!"

  "Fitch." Morris smiled in earnest. "You got me one."

  "Yeah, but don't tell Martha or she'll kick my ass." I sat on the edge of his bed and smiled after handing it over. "You know she doesn't like you having sweets."

  Morris waved a hand. "I'm dying. Why can't I enjoy whatever the he
ll I want?" He frowned. "If it was up to me, I would be in Vegas with a hooker on each arm and a bottle of Nolet Reserve Gin attached to an IV."

  "You're sixty-five." I grinned. "I'm pretty sure the hookers alone would kill you."

  He flipped me off. "What do you know? You practically just crawled out of the womb."

  I laughed and stood up. There were some books out of place and I knew he would need his medication soon so I tidied up the area beside his bed. I could feel Morris' eyes on me the whole time and I gave him a curious glance.

  "Is there something on my face?"

  "Nah." He shook his head. "It's just that you're here. Again."

  "Should I not be?"

  "When do you ever have a life, kid? School, work, and then you're here every other day. Do you ever do anything else?"

  I shrugged. Leave it up to Morris to call me out. It wasn't like I didn't have friends or hobbies, but I liked to keep busy. Sitting still for too long got a little too weird and lonely.

  "You're young, Fitch. Go out and have some fun before you end up an old man stuck in a bed who's waiting for death." Morris stared at his donut morosely. "It happens too fast."

  Morris always cracked dark jokes about dying, but I could see the weight on him. He'd been in hospice care for two months. We both knew, along with everyone here, that he wouldn't be around much longer. I opened my mouth to say something, but only platitudes came to mind. None of which he would find comforting because he wasn't the type for bullshit comfort.

  "Maybe I’ll give things a go again," I whispered. "My brother told me about this dating app. I kind of want to check it out."