Chapter 12
brAM
This is the first time I’ve really felt Josie relax since I brought her home, and I’m loath to make her move but we really need to get down to breakfast. Not only am I sure her tummy is as empty as mine, Eli will get grumpy if the food goes cold.
“All right,” I say reluctantly, giving her hip a gentle tap. “We should head downstairs for Uncle Eli’s wedding brunch.”
Josie shifts to move away from me, but I hold her tight. “But first you need to potty, baby.”
In my arms, she tenses again, and I bite back a sigh at the loss of my snuggly little bug. “I don’t potty. I use the bathroom like an adult.”
My siblings all share a pointed look before Gray clears her throat. “We’ll go get breakfast set up while you get her ready.”
“Traitor,” Josie mumbles beneath her breath, shooting Gray a furious glare.
Gray, in her usual way, simply ignores her, though I imagine Josie’s accusation cuts deep. Once upon a time, they were closer than best friends. They were sisters, in every way that mattered, and Gray cried harder than anyone when we left her behind.
But there’s no sign of that broken teenage girl now as Gray ushers our family out of the bedroom, and even though I’m proud of the woman my sister has become, I grieve the necessity of losing who she was.
Rising from the bed, I scoop Josie up in my arms and carry her to the nursery to lay her out on the changing table.
“That was a very mean thing you said to your Auntie Gray,” I scold gently as I press down on her bladder, massaging obedience from the tender organ beneath my fingers.
If only it were so easy to win my babygirl’s submission.
Josie glares up at me, her jaw firming in a way that tells me she’s fighting my ministrations with everything she has. “Personally I think kidnapping someone and dragging them through a humiliating wedding ritual against their will is meaner, but apparently I’m in the minority.”
It’s a fair point, but telling her that will only feed that self-righteous anger bubbling beneath the surface. “You owe Auntie Gray an apology.”
“Absolutely not.”
I press harder on her bladder, drawing a pitiful whine from her before she rolls her lips together to stop it. “You will apologize, or I will take my belt to your naughty bottom right at the breakfast table until you’re ready to do so.”
Tears sparkle in her eyes. “I hate you.”
Her words are a dagger straight to my heart, but I ignore the piercing pain as I glare down at her. “I know. And you can hate me all you want, but I won’t tolerate my Little girl saying mean things to the people who love her.”
“Nobody here loves me. If you did, you’d let me go.”
Everything in me softens at her trembling pronouncement. “Oh, baby. We can’t let you go because we love you. It’s too dangerous.”
“Liar.”
This time I don’t bother to hold back my sigh. “You’ll see, eventually. But for right now, you need to use your diaper like a good girl. If I have to get Uncle Ford up here to use a catheter on you, I’ll make sure he brings a nice soapy enema along as well.”
Some of the color leaches from her face. “No! I don’t want an enema!”
“Then I suggest you do as you’re told and use your diaper, little girl.”
I’m a bit disappointed when she squeezes her eyes shut and relaxes beneath my touch.
As much as I want her to learn her place as my Little girl, the thought of watching her squirm and cry her way through a painful enema has my cock hardening.
Perhaps I’ll have Ford mix one up the next time she’s being stubborn, just for my own pleasure.
That scenario plays out in delightful detail in my mind as my stubborn little bug finally lets go and releases the contents of her bladder into her diaper.
Stripping the soaked cotton from her, I pull her to the edge of the changing table and hook her knees over my arms as I line my cock up with her pretty cunt.
“Daddy, no!” Whining in protest, she shakes her head against the changing pad.
“Shh, baby. Just relax and let Daddy in.”
She isn’t as wet as she was during our wedding ceremony, so I go slowly, working myself into her as she whimpers and wriggles. But despite her complaints, her arousal soon coats my cock, easing the way as I fuck her tight little pussy with short, hard thrusts.
And then her fussing turns to gasps of pleasure, and she’s arching up from the changing table, her inner muscles clamping down on my cock as her need grows. I move my thumb to her swollen clit, stroking it as she shudders around me.
“Do you want Daddy to make you feel good, bug?” I croon as I work her into a state of frenzy.
She hesitates, her body shuddering as she fights the desire building inside her. I press harder on her clit, forcing her body to bend to my will even if it takes her mind a moment to catch up.
When I feel her tense, I ease up, drawing her back from the precipice. “If you want to come, you’re going to have to ask me, Josephine.”
Even with tears of frustration sparkling on her lashes, she refuses.
Stubborn little brat.
Too bad for her, I’m even more stubborn.
Slowing my thrusts, I take her to the edge again, once more yanking her back before she has a chance to fall. Over and over we repeat the same dance, with her growing more and more frustrated each time I deny her.
Until, at last, she breaks with a loud sob.
“P-please, Daddy,” she gasps, her entire body shaking with denied pleasure.
“Please what, baby? Tell Daddy what you want.”
Her breath hitches, and it takes her a moment to get the words out, but eventually she manages to force them free. “P-please let me c-come. Please.”
So fucking sweet. Pulling back, I slam into her at the same time I press down hard on her clit. “Come for Daddy, baby.”
Her screams of pleasure fill the room as she obeys, her pussy spasming around me as I loosen my hold on the reins of my self-control, fucking us both over the edge of sanity.
With one final thrust, I bury myself as deep inside her as I can manage, filling her with my cum as her pussy continues to milk every last drop from me.
“My pretty little bug,” I murmur, turning my head to press a kiss to her calf. “That was fucking perfect, baby. Daddy’s so proud of you.”
She hums softly, her eyes fluttering closed as a satisfied smile curves her lips.
It's with great reluctance I pull free of her warmth so I can wrap her up in a fresh diaper. I don’t bother to wipe her clean first—the idea of her walking around with my cum coating the soft cotton pressed against her pussy is far too enthralling.
With that done, I find another of my t-shirts for her to wear and dress myself before hoisting her in my arms and carrying her downstairs to our wedding brunch.
Our family is laughing at some story Colt is telling about his most recent work trip, but the sound tapers off when Josie and I step into the room.
My gaze clashes with Gray’s, and I ignore my usual seat for the time being to carry Josie to the end of the table. “Auntie Gray, Josie has something to say to you.”
“I don’t have anything to say to her.”
Silence follows Josie’s pouty refusal, and Gray meets my eyes, giving me a subtle shake of her head. You don’t have to make her do this.
And for a moment, I am tempted to let my babygirl off the hook. But if I do that now, then it will only teach her that she can get away with being disrespectful, and that is a habit I need to put a stop to as soon as possible.
“Josephine Elise.” I put as much steel as I can manage into my voice. “Apologize to Auntie Gray unless you want that spanking I promised you.”
There’s another long, strained silence as everyone waits to see if she’ll continue to disobey. But eventually my babygirl sighs and buries her face in the side of my neck. “I’m sorry,” she mumbles, just barely loud enough for anyone but me to hear.
Gray starts to smile, but I cut her off with a look. “Look your Auntie Gray in the eye, and tell her exactly what you’re apologizing for.”
Josie mumbles something I can’t quite make out, but I ignore it for the time being. Because she does actually lift her head to meet Gray’s gaze. “I’m sorry I called you a traitor.”
A relieved smile stretches across my sister’s face, and some of the knots in my stomach unravel. “Good girl,” I praise, pressing a kiss to Josie’s temple. “Now, I believe your Auntie Gray has your final Chivaree gift.”
For a moment, Gray looks uncertain. But I won’t have our burgeoning family traditions thwarted just because we have some complicated history with my Little girl.
So at my nod, Gray opens her arms. “Come here, sweet girl.”
Bending down, I place Josie on her lap. Despite being two years younger than my babygirl, Gray has several inches and several pounds of muscle on her, and it’s nothing for her to cradle her former best friend in her arms as she reaches for the bottle of milk sitting on the table.
She brings the bottle to Josie’s lips, and my Little girl stares at the rubber nipple, then up at me, the question clear in her eyes.
“Go on, bug. Drink up.”
Her lips part, just enough for Gray to slide the nipple between them, and Josie gives a tentative suck. Eyes locked on me, she takes another, more confident pull.
Soon, she’s drinking greedily from the bottle, sucking down the sweet milk we’ve had imported straight from the farm on our friends’ island. At some point, I’ll have to tell her the truth about the “cows” who provide her milk.
But that’s a conversation for later. For now, my babygirl is content in her Auntie’s arms.
And all is right with our world.