The Fort Part 2- Don't Call Me Daddy
Chapter 17- The Calm After The Storm
© L 2025
Downstairs feels like a completely different world, it is quiet, calm, still ready for our fort, it has no idea what has happened above it. You look around, do you take it away? Stop the weekend? Not that long ago you were threatening to leave me completely home alone this weekend. Although, yes, you said it in anger. Still, do I deserve my weekend? You take some steps towards the table with my lists and drawing of the fort.
When we first moved into our home you had installed hooks to play with me downstairs. But, when play moved to your bedroom you removed the hooks. However, you still have them, and they screw into the holes, that you've never quite got round to filling, so putting them back wouldn't take long. You glance at the open railing on the stairs. You could easily suspend rope between the railing and the hooks. It would give us much more space and height. We will need more sheets, but we have plenty. The sofa that is also a sofa bed (not that we have ever used it), could be incorporated easily under the sheets if we pulled it forward slightly. The TV could remain where it is, we could even bring in a lamp and one of our small side tables. Okay, it will be more a posh fort, than the den kind children make and play in for a few hours, but we are spending all weekend in it. You promised you wouldn't take my weekend off me as we headed home from the shops. My other punishments don't start until Monday, you broke one promise, you won't break another. With a fresh wind of optimism you go into the kitchen, prepare our food, yes we both need this weekend, now more than ever.
I don't need you while you are downstairs, but you do hear me coughing. Guessing my throat is sore you make me hot water with honey, and collect 2 paracetamol tablets from the pack you opened earlier, and yes, you place several cookies on a palate as well as other food for us both to eat. Before returning to me you turn the heating up in the house, and the boiler fires into life. Air will help me heal, you don't want me covering up just because I’m cold. Putting everything on a tray, you go to the freezer and take out two ice packs, wrap a towel round each, and bring everything back up to your bedroom, and set it down on the floor. You get on the floor too, grabbing a pillow from your bed to lean on, you place the sandwiches next to me, and in quite a forceful tone you tell me to take the paracetamol, drink more water and eat, all of which I do immediately.
I take a few bites, I may be starting to forgive myself but there is one question in my mind that I both need to know the answer to, as well as don't want to know the answer to. You watch me slowly eat, everything seems so still now. Laid almost face down on my bed, my ass burns so brightly. While you feel no guilt over punishing me the way you did, causing me the pain you did. You will take causing me that level of pain through play any day of the week over punishing me. You take your cooling lotion and apply it liberally again to my extremely sore behind. I wince and let out small cries of pain. Then you take the two ice packs. You place one on my bottom, and the other you slide between my legs to help reduce the swelling in my soft tender lips. Fresh tears fill my eyes and I begin sob quietly.
You understand I will still be upset, but to see me revert back to sobbing when not that long ago I told you there was nothing else I needed or wanted to discuss, confuses you. 'Come on baby girl, talk to me', 'I....I....I can't Daddy, I....I'm too scared what you'll say'. 'Is it about what happened, or about your punishment'? You say trying not to sound frustrated, when this is exactly why we talk after. Unable to answer as a fresh wave of tears and sobs escape me, I mumble 'It's about our...'. I can't finish my words. 'Our weekend'? You ask, knowing it would definitely be on my mind, feeling surprised I hadn't brought it up earlier. I nod my head as I cry harder, feeling wave after wave of emotion. You pause the film as neither of us are watching it, slide into my bed beside me, and carefully hold me tightly. 'Okay', you say as I unleash every emotion I am feeling. 'Baby girl, I thought long and hard about our weekend, it wasn't an easy decision to make given what you did'. This is it, I'm loosing my weekend, the one thing that made this last week bearable. I feel a crushing pain weighing down on my chest, I bury my face in your chest. 'However, I broke promises too. I did say to you earlier today that I wouldn't take your weekend away, and I meant it, I won't break two promises in one day. We will have our weekend, I think we both need it. I will be modifying the rules, but I promise you now, as I did earlier, we will have our fort weekend'.
As you speak those words, my head feels like it is made of lead, it takes all my effort to move to look at you. My eyes are heavy, my body aches, and my bottom feels both on fire and numb all at the same time.
You get up and retrieve the note pad and pen with my lines in it. Turning to a fresh page as you sit back down on the pillow against your bed, you write in capitals at the top of it- DADDY’S FORT RULES. 'Okay, rule number one. I can add, change or stop any rule at any time', you say scribbling those words down. 'Rule number two, the fort will start tonight, and end on Sunday with us watching Jurassic World'. 'Tonight'? I say questioningly and you nod your head. The third rule you keep from my original list, that you still have memorised, no alarms. But you add that if I am tired I must tell you, and I must rest and try and nap and sleep when you ask me to. This isn't a punishment, or you being 'harsh' with your discipline. My body and mind needs to heal, it is part of my ongoing aftercare that will likely last several days, if not weeks in some form. You also keep my rule of no technology other than your phone. You don't add my 'no sex' rule. You tell me if I am your little girl then sex is off limits anyway. However, you do say I have the option if I want to or feel like it, to move out of little space for some of our time in the fort. You emphasise there is no pressure, if it's little space all weekend, then you are absolutely fine with that arrangement. After all, it was how we were originally going to spend the weekend.
Over the knee spankings was the next fort rule I gave us. 'I don't think we need any more smacks on that bottom of yours, so I'm not including that rule. I really can't see you being a naughty little girl this weekend. But, if you are, there are plenty of other effective warnings and punishments I can give you'. The next rule you write is- No being naughty, to replace the bratty rule. 'Now this goes for both of us, Daddy isn't allowed to be naughty either'. Your comment makes me smile and laugh slightly. You add my, must cuddle, must eat in the fort, must sleep in the fort rules.
Then you turn and look at me and say, 'the next rule is, Daddy will choose what we watch, and when we watch it'. Which you write down, adding 'and no I can tell you now, Frozen is out'. The final rule you add is that you will choose what sweets and treats I can have, and when. As a general rule (though not all the time), I am not allowed treats after being a bad girl. So this will give you control of what I have and when, without you taking the treats off me completely.
You rip out our rules, put the pen and writing pad down and look at me. 'Okay, they aren't rules but there are two more things I am implementing. Firstly, I will agree what toys you bring in, we can do that when you feel able to get up. The second thing is that I am changing the layout of the fort'. My original fort plan was basically a square. With the sofa pushed all the way to the back of the lounge, and a clothes airier sat on top. The other end was going to be our dining table, and I was going to drape sheets between the two. Inside covering the entire floor were going to be all the cushions, pillows and duvets. With the entrance and exit to the right, I was going to have the left hand side, you were going to have the right, and the TV was going to be sat under the table in the middle. You tell me your idea, speaking more and more enthusiastically. When I ask why we are starting tonight and not tomorrow, you simply shrug and say 'why wait'!
You turn back on Cars, the Disney film I was watching. I finish eating, you eat some of the sandwiches too, as well as apply lotion and intermittently place the ice pack on my bottom. You see my eyes getting heavier and heavier, moving everything out my way, you cover me with a thin very soft blanket, stroking my back, holding my hand. Eventually, just as you suspected I would, I fall asleep.