A Small Secret from Behind the Bar

I never thought I'd be confessing something so small and stupid. But here it goes. I'm a Daddy bartender, in my mid-thirties, and everything about me screams authority and respectability, at least that's what I tell myself every day when I slip on my apron. There was this one night, late shift, when my little was supposed to clean the bar after closing. She always does it without complaint, like a good girl should. But last week, I was so tired from a long day that I told her to just go home and let me handle it in the morning. Now, you'd think this wouldn't be such a big deal, I mean, it's not like she was going to get into trouble for it or anything. But there’s something about breaking even the smallest of rules when you’re supposed to be setting an example that leaves a bad taste in my mouth. I know better than to make excuses and I felt awful for hours afterward. This isn't some huge kinky thing, just me being weak and lazy. It's embarrassing how simple it is.