Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Gideon
If my little doll hadn’t pursued ballet, she could have had a future in the theatre. She’s quite the actress, and if I hadn’t heard for myself how she planned to pull the wool over my eyes, I might not have believed it.
All evening, she was the perfect Little girl. Even when she had to use her diaper again, she only fussed a bit, and she settled down immediately when I threatened to spank her.
Now, she’s lying in my bed, her perfect pink mouth open just slightly, her long lashes dark against her pale cheek. She’s perfectly still, other than the rise and fall of her chest as she breathes, and she looks so much like an actual doll I can hardly believe she is real.
But she is real. And she is all mine.
With that thought, I slowly pull the blankets down, careful not to disturb her. My little doll needs her rest, after all. The light sedative I put in her milk after dinner will help, but if I’m too rough with her, she might wake.
As I uncover her, baring her long legs to my view, my cock jerks in response. Again, I’m tempted to throw “tradition” to the wind and claim her now, but not only am I loath to disappoint my family, I want to be able to look in my Little one’s eyes the first time she takes me inside her sweet little pussy. There will be plenty of chances for me to claim her without her knowledge down the road, but that first time should be special.
That doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy my little doll in other ways tonight.
When the covers are fully peeled back, I slide my hand up her nightdress to cup one small, pert breast in my hand. Isabella’s brow furrows in response, but she doesn’t wake. She doesn’t even move as I pinch her nipple lightly between my fingers, teasing it into a tight bud.
Even in sleep, her body knows my touch. And revels in it.
Unable to resist the desire to taste her, I push her nightdress all the way up, exposing her breasts to the cool air. Her nipples, already tight from my ministrations, harden even further.
Lowering my head, I capture one taut peak in my mouth. Beneath me, Isabella remains perfectly still. My very own living doll, pliant and defenseless as I use her body for my pleasure.
Perfection.
Even when I peel her diaper away from her skin, my fingers spearing her wet heat, she doesn’t stir. For what feels like hours, I lay here with my little doll, touching and tasting every inch of her.
It isn’t until I begin to truly focus on her swollen little clit that she shifts in her sleep, arching up with a small gasp. But even then she doesn’t wake. I watch, mesmerized as she writhes beneath me, her body responding to my every touch.
“My beautiful little doll,” I whisper, still doing my best not to ruin this perfect moment. “Come for Daddy, little one.”
Another gasp as her tight, hot cunt squeezes my fingers. Her skin is flush with pleasure, her hands fisting in the covers as she obeys my command to come. And still she does not wake.
When she finally settles again, that beautiful blush remaining on her cheeks and her mouth in that perfect Cupid's bow as her breathing slows to its normal pace, I rise up onto my knees. Her arousal makes for the perfect lubricant as I wrap my fingers around my cock, gently stroking the hard length.
I watch her, my perfect little doll, once again lying still and quiet in my bed, her breasts and pussy bared to me. And with every stroke of my hand over my cock, pleasure coils inside me.
My groans fill the air, low, primal sounds of need nobody but me can hear as I stroke my cock faster, harder. Until, finally, that coil inside me snaps and my cum jets out all over her sleeping form. Covering her stomach and her neatly trimmed pussy with my pearly white seed.
Still gripping my cock, I drop my head, my breaths ragged as I drag oxygen into my lungs. I should clean her up, at least get a wet washcloth to wipe her down before putting her diaper back on her.
But the thought of her spending the night covered in my cum, her diaper and her nightgown sticky with the evidence of my desire is too tempting to pass up. And so, when I finally have my balance back, I dress her again, pulling her diaper back up over her cum-covered mound and tugging her nightgown back into place. Pulling the covers back up over both of us, I wrap an arm around her middle, holding her close and pressing a gentle kiss to her hair.
“Sleep tight, my little doll.”
Holding her in my arms the way a child might cradle a favorite stuffed animal, I drift off into a deep, dreamless sleep.
* * *
Isabella
What a strange, vivid dream.
I’ve never dreamt like that before. Where my whole body seemed to respond to what was happening, and I’d swear I actually had an orgasm just from dreaming.
But it’s not my body’s reaction to the dream that has my heart pounding faster as I wake, but the dream itself. There was no celebrity crush or hot neighbor joining me in dreamland, touching me in ways that had me crying out in pleasure.
No. That role was reserved for the man lying next to me, his heavy arm across my waist. My kidnapper, my captor.
Daddy.
A very, very naked Daddy.
Oh my god.
A blush heats my cheeks as I watch him sleep. And I can’t help but think how different he looks like this. So… harmless. Almost angelic, with the way his hair falls haphazardly across his forehead, tickling his eyelids. With his mouth closed but not pressed together in those tight lines as it often does when he’s awake, especially when I’ve done something to disappoint him.
If he’d approached me on the street, talked to me like a normal human being, I probably would have given him a shot. Charming, rich, gorgeous—what girl wouldn’t take a chance on a romance with a man like that? Granted, I would have balked at the diapers and bottles, but we could have had fun in the meantime. And looking at him now, I can clearly see that other life for us, the way he would have spoiled me with fancy dinners and brought me giant bouquets of roses after a performance.
But that’s not the life we have. Because he isn’t simply a rich, charming stranger with some questionable kinks. He’s a criminal, a man who doesn’t give a fuck about things like consent and who takes what he wants without care for who he hurts in the process.
As I’m lying in his bed, staring at his sinfully handsome face, one pale eye opens and a smile curves his lips. “Good morning, little doll. Sleep well?”
There’s an undercurrent to his question that sets my nerves on edge. But I’m still in “pretend everything is fine so he doesn’t suspect anything” mode, so I hide my unease with a smile of my own. “Yes, Daddy.”
“What did you dream about?”
Okay, now I’m really wondering if there’s something he knows that I don’t. “I don't really dream.”
“Ah, more’s the pity.” Rolling onto his side, he looks at the bright green numbers on the alarm clock. “We should get you ready for the day. You have an appointment with Doctor D this morning and he left me very specific instructions.”
“I don’t need to see the doctor. I’m not sick.” And I get regular physicals to keep up with the demands of my dance career.
“All Little girls have to visit Doctor D when they come to the island, Isabella.” Pushing up in the bed, he presses a button on the nightstand. “Peter will be up in a minute to help us. You should use your diaper now, or you’ll have to wait until we’re done with the prep.”
“I don’t want to use my diaper. And who the fuck is Peter?”
It isn’t until Daddy turns, his expression hard as he stares at me, that I realize I’ve let my mask slip. The thought of letting anyone on this island examine me, and the news that some new stranger will be “helping” me get ready for that examination, has rattled me.
“Little girls do not use such foul language. Am I understood, Isabella?”
“Yes, Daddy. I’m sorry.”
“The next time it happens, you’ll be sucking on a bar of soap while Daddy spanks all the naughtiness out of you. Now, I don’t want any more arguments out of you, Little girl. Use your diaper, or you’ll have to hold it.”
“Hold it until when?”
Before he can answer me, there’s a knock at the door and Daddy smiles. Not the sweet smile he gave me when he first awoke, but one that promises all manner of wicked things to come. “That’s Peter,” he says, pulling on a pair of sweatpants and a plain white t-shirt that clings to his sculpted body in ways I don’t want to appreciate. And yet, my pussy clenches at the sight of him, looking so rumpled and sexy and commanding.
I’m so fucked.
Turning away, he strides across the room and opens the door. There’s a short, hushed conversation and then the sound of footsteps down the hall before Daddy returns to the bed and scoops me up in his arms.
“All right, little one. Time to go get ready for Doctor D.”
Even though I have no idea exactly what that entails, terror grips me, digging sharp talons into my chest as Daddy carries me down the hall to my nursery. “I don’t wanna go to the doctor!”
Daddy’s chest rumbles with laughter. “Little girls never do. But it’s Daddy’s job to keep you happy and healthy, and part of that is going to the doctor on a regular basis.”
This is obviously an argument I’m not going to win, but I can’t seem to help myself. The calm I was able to wrap around me yesterday, the fake compliance, has completely deserted me and I find myself struggling in his arms. “No! I’m not going and you can’t make me!”
Daddy slows to a stop, his brow rising as he looks down at me. But it isn’t anger I see in his eyes. It’s amusement, plain as day, lighting the stormy gray.
And that amusement scares me right down to my bones.
“Do you really want to test me on that, little doll? Because I will be all too happy to show you just how easily I can make you do whatever I wish.”
I want to fight. To force him to work for my obedience instead of meekly handing it over, whether it’s all for show or not.
But seeing the amusement and what, if I’m not mistaken, appears to be hunger in his eyes, makes me think twice. I’m not about to give this man the satisfaction of punishing me. Whatever it is he has planned for me, I’ll bear it in silence rather than give him a reason to flex his sadistic muscles.
“No, Daddy,” I say, forcing my voice to lower to a more respectful tone. “I’m sorry, I just got scared. I really don’t wanna go to the doctor.”
“My poor little doll. Daddy will be right beside you the whole time. And if you’re a very good girl for Doctor D, Daddy has a surprise for you afterward.”
It doesn’t escape my notice that he does not tell me there’s no reason to be scared. Just that he’ll be with me through it.
At least he isn’t a liar on top of all his other sins, I guess.
A man I assume is Peter waits for us in the nursery. While he’s not nearly as handsome as Daddy, there’s no denying his rugged good looks, with his salt-and- pepper hair and a face that looks like it’s carved from stone. His custom suit almost seems out of place on him, as though he’s playing a part he wasn’t meant to play.
My Daddy, however, looks exactly his part, king of his domain, whether he’s wearing a suit or the sweats he wears now. And I hate myself for being so attracted to him, regardless of how he’s dressed.
“Is the bag ready, Peter?” Daddy asks as he lays me down on the changing table.
“Almost, sir. I wanted to wait and see if you need any additional… modifications.”
Daddy looks down at me, that same cruel smile from earlier tugging at his lips. “That’s entirely up to our little Isabella here. Are you going to be a good girl for me, little one? Or do you need some incentive to behave?”
I have no idea what bag they’re talking about, or what form this “incentive” might take, but I do know I want absolutely nothing to do with it. “No, Daddy, I’ll be good, I promise.”
“Just the regular bag for now, Peter. Thank you.”
Peter disappears into the bathroom and a moment later I hear the water running, and my imagination goes wild wondering what the hell they could be up to.
But I don’t have very long to worry about it before Daddy begins to peel my nightgown from me. And I do mean peel . The fabric sticks to my stomach, and as he pulls it from me I’m hit with a horrible realization.
That vivid dream I had last night wasn’t a dream at all.
It was horrifyingly, terrifyingly real .