You met me at the airport. Back then you could walk all the way to the gate and watch the passengers coming off the plane. You were so scared you were shaking. I was more than twice your age. You didn’t know what you were getting yourself into. I could have been anything, I could turn out to be a serial killer you thought.

I came right to you. I looked like my pictures, and you like yours. You saw me coming and curled up into yourself, trying to hide. Even as a 20 year old college student, it was your go to move. We met online, back when you could meet people on aol and it wasn’t that much different from reddit now. I had put up a little ad. Just a few sentences. There was a character limit back then. You responded with an email. Now we were here, in the airport in your college city. I came all the way to you, put my hand on your shoulder and said, “hi baby, Daddy’s here. Everything’s going to be ok.”

I sat by you. And just talked to you quietly for a while. Touched your hand, arm, shoulder. At first you wouldn’t even say anything. You were too scared. I asked questions. You’d just nod your head. Eventually I started to get tiny clipped answers from you. And we stayed there like that until your body uncurled and you stopped flinching every time I touched you. I asked you if you were ready to go and you said, “yes daddy,” which may have been your first complete sentence. I reached for your hand. You gave it to me. We went out to your car.

You were a shaky mess. You couldn’t handle driving. You handed me your car key. I drove to my hotel. You looked straight ahead. I tried to comfort you. A hand on your thigh. A caring smirk and side glance. At the desk I said you were my daughter. I noticed a slight blush. And we went on up to my room.

For the longest time I just held you. I rocked you. I read to you. I ordered room service and fed you. I was patient, waiting for you to relax. Eventually I said I was going to give you a bath. I gave you a minute by yourself to go potty. And then I ran the bath for you. Gobs of bubbles. Your eyes got big at the pile of them. I asked to undress you. You let me.

It was kind of a thrill. Me kneeling to untie your shoes while you held onto my shoulder. I helped you into the bathtub. I remember thinking how beautiful you were. So I told you. I washed you extremely thoroughly. Perhaps more so than you’d even been. I picked up a washcloth and started washing between all of your toes and all the sudden you were leaning back and moaning and practically edging so I took my time and stayed on your feet a while. Your face told me that your response was unexpected.

And then I made you get up on all fours so I could wash your bottom. I took care to clean you well, then I slid a finger right in. You pushed back to invite me further. And I fingered you all the way to climax. I got you out of the tub and dressed you in the little nightgown you’d packed, and then I took you to the bed and guided you over my lap. I raised up the back of the nightie and took down your panties. They were pretty much just for show since you only wore them for like 2 minutes. And I spanked you.

First just bare hand to bare butt. And I just couldn’t get a reaction out of you. You laid there like a rock. I kept ramping it up. You kept taking it. I think you were expecting it to be so much worse, for it to feel like it had when you were a little girl in trouble. I wasn’t getting anywhere wearing out my hand on you so I picked up your brush, the wooden one with the flat back, and started spanking you with that. You didn’t whimper or squirm or cry. You took it. Eventually I stopped because you were too bruised to continue.

So I sat you up and you looked at me feeling bewildered and I guess I did too. And then I held you and cuddled you and just loved on you until I needed to go back to the airport. You told me you remember feeling in such a daze leaving the airport. I’d given you your key back. You turned it in the lock. You put it in the ignition. You were sitting where I’d just been. It was all a blur. You went back to your dorm room.

You were marked up for days. Each time you moved in your seat you were reminded of that afternoon. You had locked yourself up so well you didn’t know how to feel pain anymore and were unable to respond to it appropriately.

I’d eventually help you relearn how to feel. In later meetings you did sob and squirm and respond to the sting and snap more appropriately. But the journey started that night. And what a delicious journey it was. I think of you often. Where you’re at now, where your path has led you. Will we cross paths again, like we did all those times all those years ago?