Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
Izzy
It takes nearly a week for me to be able to wear a diaper without wincing at the cotton rubbing against my punished skin. But even long after the physical reminder of my punishment fades, I carry the memory in my heart.
Months pass in a state of what I could almost describe as bliss. My friends and I attend school every weekday, and three times a week I teach ballet. Juju manages to get herself in trouble almost as often as we have my classes, and I suspect Tori was right when she said Juju enjoys the attention she gets when she misbehaves. I still don’t quite understand it, but my friend seems happy, so I’m happy for her.
On weekends, our Daddies either take us shopping or to the farm—which, as I discovered on our first trip out, is not filled with actual animals but rather humans dressed as animals—where Juju visits with her favorite barn cat and we all drink our fill of sweet, fresh milk directly from the source. Sometimes, Auntie Cat takes us out for a girls’ day, pampering us with mani-pedis and buying us so many clothes that our Daddies grumble about how they’re going to have to build new closets to hold them all.
And while it was never truly cold on the island, it’s clearly summer now and our Daddies surprise us with the news that the water park they’ve been building is almost complete. Over dinner, we make excited plans to visit and go on every single slide at least once, even the scary ones.
All in all, it’s a lovely, peaceful sort of existence. And if I find myself missing New York from time to time, I quickly put those thoughts out of my mind. That old version of me isn’t who I am anymore. I am my Daddy’s little doll, and that’s all I need or want to be.
I can admit though, that the longing for what I once had does come back fiercer when Juju starts talking about her Daddy’s plans to take her somewhere special for her birthday. It’s all she can talk about for weeks leading up to the event, and the more she tells us about her “surprise trip”, the grumpier I become.
Unfortunately for me, the grumpier I become, the more often I find myself in trouble both with Miss Evelyn and my Daddy. Even, once, with Auntie Cat. But after being stripped down and spanked with her hairbrush right in the middle of the nail salon, I made sure to be on my best behavior around her.
With Daddy, however, the opposite happens. I find myself acting out more and more until I finally step so far out of line I earn a repeat of my punishment out on the balcony, although not quite as severe. Five strokes of the strap for lashing out at dinner and calling Uncle Max an asshole. And, of course, getting my welted bottom stuffed full of Daddy’s cock before being forced to call Uncle Max and issue a tearful apology.
That was almost a week ago, and unlike after my balcony whipping, I never quite made it back to that peaceful place where I was just happy to be Daddy’s Little girl. Try as I might to ignore the itch beneath my skin, it’s there all the same.
Hopefully it will go away when Juju and Uncle Jasper go on their trip and I don’t have to hear about it every day.
I’m doing a fairly good job of convincing myself that’s exactly what will happen when Juju corners me during a trip to the farm. Our Daddies have gotten comfortable enough after several trips to mostly let us have free reign of the place, as long as we never actually leave their sight. Tori learned that lesson the hard way, and the memory of being forced to watch as Uncle Max took a riding crop to her bare bottom has kept Juju and I in line on all our subsequent trips.
“I found out where Daddy is taking me for my birthday,” Juju whispers as she makes a show of feeding the beautiful horse pair in front of us bits of apple.
I’m so sick of hearing about her trip, but I’ve already learned my lesson about being rude to our family members, so I force a smile. “That’s nice.”
“Don’t you want to know where?”
Biting back a sigh, I nod. “Sure. Where is he taking you?”
Excitement pumps off her in waves as she turns to me. “He’s taking me to a show I’ve been dropping hints about wanting to see. In New York .”
New York. The place Juju and Tori and I all once called home. My heart leaps in my chest at the news, then almost immediately comes screeching to a halt.
Juju is going home. Not me. It feels like my heart is breaking in two and like my smile might shatter my face it’s stretched so wide against its will. “That sounds so fun!”
“Oh my god, you don't get it.” Looking around, Juju drops her voice even lower. “You can sneak on the plane with us. You can go home.”
Home . Back to New York. For a moment, I can only stare at her, numb with shock at what she’s suggesting. “I can’t.”
“Of course you can. Look, we’re all going over your place after we’re done here, right? I’ll leave my stuffie in your room and before we leave tomorrow, I’ll convince Daddy we have to come get her or I’ll just die. Jasper can’t tell me no, especially when I turn on the waterworks. So when we come to get my kitty, you just sneak out of the house and hide in the trunk or something.”
“What about your driver? Won’t he see me?”
“I’ll throw an extra-big fit and make him come inside with us to look. It’s practically foolproof.”
It’s not, and even I can see a hundred ways her plan could go wrong. Every single one of those ways end with both of us getting the spanking of our lives.
But for the first time since that night on the balcony, hope stirs in my chest. And the woman inside me, the part of me I thought broken and buried forever, comes to life, demanding we at least try.
I’m not sure I can live with myself otherwise.
* * *
Gideon
“Something’s wrong with Isabella.”
At my words, Jasper and Maxwell both sit up straighter, worried expressions crossing their faces. The girls are all upstairs in Isabella’s nursery so I don’t have to worry about them overhearing us.
“What do you mean?” Jasper frowns. “She seemed fine at the farm today.”
“That’s just it. She seems fine because she’s acting like everything is fine. But the past few weeks have been… difficult.”
“Difficult, how?” Maxwell asks.
“She’s been acting out more, especially at school. And the other day when she called you an asshole at dinner? That’s not like her. At all.”
Leaning back, Maxwell taps a finger on the arm of his chair. “You’re right. That was rather out of character. What do you think the problem is?”
“I don’t know.” Even I can hear the frustration in my voice. “I thought we were making progress, but things are worse than they were in the beginning. Even when I first brought her to the island I didn’t have this many issues with her behavior.”
“I wonder…” Trailing off, Jasper rubs at the scruff on his chin. “Do you think it has anything to do with Juliet’s birthday trip? Maybe she’s jealous she won’t get to travel, too.”
“Maybe? She's never mentioned traveling to me, though.”
“You should talk to her about it. That was one of Juliet’s sticking points for not wanting to be my Little girl. Once I assured her we could still travel plenty, she was much more accepting. And if it’s not the travel, then it could be something else she’s missing. Performing, maybe.”
“I do know she was missing her life at the ballet not too long ago. Honestly, she seemed so sad about it, I genuinely wondered if I did the right thing, bringing her here.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” With a dismissive snort, Maxwell shakes his head. “You know damn well if you hadn’t brought her here, she would have eventually given in to the pressures of the ballet and started using those drugs she used to peddle. And what about when she aged out of the corps? It’s not like she really has any other skill sets to fall back on. You saved her, Gideon, and don’t you forget it.”
Considering how cross Maxwell initially was with me for bringing Isabella to the island, his words both surprise and encourage me. “I know. I know, you’re right. It’s just difficult to see her struggling so.”
“Talk to her. And if she won’t talk, well…” A wicked smile curves Maxwell’s lips. “I’m sure you can find ways to loosen her lips.”
* * *
Gideon
After our guests leave for the evening, I take Isabella upstairs to our bedroom. Not once has she spent the night in her crib, and though I know Maxwell and Doctor D would both tell me I’m spoiling her, I can’t bring myself to start now, no matter how naughty she’s been of late.
Instead of our usual bedtime routine of a diaper change and a nightgown, however, I head straight for the bed. A look of confusion crosses my little doll’s face as I strip her down to her skin, but she doesn’t argue.
Until I take my seat on the bed and pull her down over my lap. Then she begins to squirm and whimper.
“Daddy I don’t want a spankin’!”
“Shh, little one.” I rub her bottom, doing my best to calm her before we begin. “This isn’t a punishment.”
At that, she goes still, craning her neck to look up at me. “It’s not?”
“No, baby, it’s not. At least, it’s not going to begin that way. Just be honest with Daddy and I think you might actually enjoy this spanking.”
“Honest about what?”
“About why you’ve been acting out so much. It’s clear you’re upset about something. What is it?”
A long, strained silence greets my question. I give her a silent count of ten in my head to answer before landing the first swat on her bottom.
Isabella gasps, but her skin barely turns pink, so I know it didn’t sting as badly as she’s making out. Lifting my hand, I swat her again on the opposite cheek.
For several long moments, the only sounds in the room are my hand gently smacking against her skin and Isabella’s soft gasps in response. I stop when those gasps turn to whimpers and she begins to grind her hips against my thigh.
Chuckling, I nudge her legs apart with my hand, swiping my fingers through her dripping arousal. “I knew you’d enjoy your spanking, little doll.”
With another of those sweet little whimpers, she pushes her hips back against my hand, seeking release. And for a while, I’m content to play, taking her closer and closer to the edge until she’s a trembling, needy, whimpering mess over my lap.
And then I stop.
“If you want to come, little one, you’re going to have to start talking.”