Putting A Brat To Bed 💤

June 17

Here is another snippet chapter as you guys requested. I’m glad you guys liked it. I think I will upload more snippets on here because you guys appreciate them. these are my fantasies . 🫦

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He watches you from across the room, arms crossed, a knowing look in his eyes as you scroll on your phone, trying to pretend you’re not fighting sleep.

“Julia,” he says, walking over and gently taking the phone from your hands.
“That’s enough for tonight, sweetheart. You’ve been running on fumes all day”

He sits beside you on the bed, tucking a curl of hair behind your ear with a softness that makes your chest ache a little.

“ I know it’s a little bit earlier than your bedtime but you don’t have to stay up to prove anything. You’re safe, you’re loved… and you’re done for the night.”

He places your phone face-down on the dresser, far out of reach. No arguments. No negotiation.

“No more distractions. No scrolling. No late-night spirals. Just you, warm under the covers, with me making sure you rest.”

He pulls the blanket up over you and kisses your forehead slowly.

“Close those eyes, baby. Let go. I’ve got you.”

Then, softly, but with that unmistakable authority:

“You’re not getting that phone back until morning. And if I catch you trying… I’ll remind you who’s in charge.”

He smiles, brushes his thumb along your cheek, and whispers one last time:

“Goodnight, Julia. Be my good girl and rest.”

The room is quiet. His breathing is slow and steady beside you—deep asleep, or so you think. The dim glow of the hallway light spills just enough for you to slip out from under the covers.

Your bare feet hit the floor, quiet as a whisper. You tiptoe across the room, eyes locked on the dresser where your phone sits, just waiting to be in your hand again.

Fingertips brush the screen—

“Really, Julia?”

His voice cuts through the silence. Low. Calm. Dangerous in how effortlessly in control it still is, even half-awake.

You freeze, heart racing. He’s already sitting up, his eyes on you. Not angry. Not yelling. Just that look—that knowing, patient disappointment that somehow hits harder than anything else.

“You waited until I fell asleep just to sneak off?”

He swings his legs over the side of the bed and stands, slow and deliberate, his tone never rising.

“You thought I wouldn’t catch you? After I held you. After I tucked you in. After I told you no.”

He walks over, takes the phone from your hand, and sets it back on the dresser. Then he turns to you, his presence towering, not in size—just in the quiet authority he carries like a second skin.

“You broke a rule, baby .”
He reaches out, taking your chin gently between his fingers.
“And what happens when you break a rule?”

He doesn’t need your answer. He already knows.

“You get punished. Because I love you too much to let you get away with it.”

He leads you back to the bed, sitting down with you between his legs, pulling you across his lap with a firm grip that leaves no room for escape.

“Count them for me, Julia. Every one of them is a reminder that I mean what I say.”

His palm lifts, then lands on you with a firm, stinging smack—not cruel, but enough to leave you squirming. Then another. Then another.

“One…”
“Two…”
You whisper the count, breath hitching, cheeks warm—not just from the spanking, but from the way he never once stopped being in control. Of you. Of the moment. Of the lesson.

When it’s over, he gathers you in his arms, holding you tightly against his chest.

“No more sneaking, baby. If you want something—ask. But if I say no… you listen.”

He kisses the top of your head, voice soft again.

“Now sleep. For real this time. I’ll be right here, making sure you behave .”

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