Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
Sam
Standing in front of the full-length mirror in her playroom, she twisted from side to side, taking in the outfit Daddy had put her in.
The shirt, which barely covered her breasts, forget about her stomach, was stamped with the word Babygirl in hot pink glitter.
Combined with the cute panties and thigh-highs, it looked… cute.
Little.
More, she actually felt cute and Little, in a way she never had before. For once, she wasn’t stressed about the extra rolls in her tummy or the dimples in her ass. Daddy thought she looked cute, and dammit, she really did.
Turning away from the mirror, she crossed the room to the bed and studied the pile of toys situated there. How was she supposed to choose who got to spend the day with her, snuggled up with Daddy and watching her favorite movies?
Then again, Daddy hadn’t given her a limit on how many friends could join them for the movie. So maybe she didn’t have to choose.
Pleased with herself for finding the loophole in his instructions, she scooped up as many of her friends as she could carry and marched into the living room to arrange them on the couch.
Armful by armful, she moved every stuffie she had into the living room, leaving just enough space for her and Daddy on the couch, with the others scattered around the room.
“All right, baby, breakfast is—” Stopping short, Daddy looked from the mass of stuffies to her and back again, a smile curving his lips. “Didn’t want to leave anyone out, huh?”
Pride welled in her chest as she grinned up at him and nodded. “We all love Marvel, so it didn’t seem fair for some of them to miss out.”
“Makes sense. But breakfast first, then movies. Come on, babygirl.”
“Aw, but Daddy.” She let her voice pitch up to a needling whine she usually never indulged in. “Can we watch while we eat? Please, Daddy?”
Daddy paused, clearly thinking over her request. “Do you promise to be very careful and not make a mess?”
Somewhere in the back of her mind, Big Samantha scoffed. Of course I won’t make a mess. I’m forty years old.
But if she was being honest, it was a fair question. Little Sammie wasn’t nearly as careful with things, especially when she was excited.
So she nodded solemnly in response. “Yes, Daddy. I promise.”
“All right. But if you aren’t careful, then we will be eating lunch and dinner at the kitchen table like usual. Have a seat and Daddy will bring you breakfast.”
“Yay!” Hurrying over to the couch, she sandwiched herself in between Doc Ock and Roy to wait for Daddy.
“Breakfast is served.” A wide grin stretched across Daddy’s face as he returned to the living room to place a tray across her lap.
“Spider-Man!” An excited squeal burst out of her, and she was far too deep in her Little space to even care as she took in the Spider-Man plate and sippy cup in front of her. “Thank you, Daddy!”
“You’re welcome, baby. I’ll be right back with my breakfast and then we can start the movie.”
Picking up a piece of bacon, she munched happily as she waited for him to return. Which he did, as promised, and he turned on the very first Ironman movie.
She thought this might actually be heaven, watching movies with her Daddy while eating the breakfast he cooked, and not having to worry about a single thing.
“You need to eat your fruit, baby.”
Glancing down at the cut-up strawberries on her plate, she shook her head. “Not hungry.”
“Samantha. Look at me, please.”
Uh-oh. She knew that voice. That was the voice that said she was about to get a spankin’.
Ignoring the squirmy feeling in her tummy, she shook her head. “Can’t, Daddy. I’m watchin’ a movie.”
On the tv, Tony Stark froze mid-air. “Samantha Kay. Look at Daddy, right now.”
Biting back a sigh she knew would only get her in more trouble, she turned her head to look over at him. “Yes, Daddy?”
“Are you being honest with me about not being hungry?”
“Um, well, I’m not super hungry. I had a big breakfast.”
“All right. I’ll save your strawberries for lunch, then. But no sweet treats between now and lunch.”
“But Daddy!”
Rising from the couch, he shook his head and reached for her plate. “Those are the rules. Little girls who don’t eat their fruits and veggies don’t get sweet treats.”
“That’s not fair!”
“It’s entirely fair.”
Rebellion welled in her chest as she glared up at him. “Nuh-uh! I’m a big girl and I can have a sweet treat if I want one!”
The look he pinned her with was so utterly Daddy she nearly whimpered as she shrank back against the couch. “Little girl, if you so much as step foot in that kitchen without Daddy’s permission, I will use the brand-new paddle I just ordered and spank your bottom bright red. Am I understood?”
Uh-oh. That sounded like he meant business. So even though she didn’t really want to, she gave in with a nod and a sigh. “Yes, Daddy.”
“Good girl.”
He carried their dishes into the kitchen and she sank into the couch with a huff, her arms crossed over her chest as she glared at the tv.
She was a big girl. A whole adult. If she wanted a damn brownie that she’d bought with her own money, who was he to tell her no?
Daddy. He’s Daddy.
Yeah, but that didn’t mean he could just boss her around like that.
Okay, well maybe it did.
But still.
She was still in a full sulk when he returned to the couch, plucking Doc Ock from the space between them to drape an arm around her shoulder. “I know it’s hard when Daddy tells you no, but I’m proud of you for listening, baby.”
Guilt twisted in her tummy. Here she was, being a complete and total brat about being told “No” and he was praising her for it.
And yet, she couldn’t seem to snap herself out of the sulk, even with his praise. “Whatever.”
Beside her, he went still and her heart slammed against her ribcage. Was he going to spank her for getting an attitude?
She almost hoped he would. A good hard spanking would probably help a lot with the ugly feelings in her tummy.
But then he relaxed with a sigh and pressed a kiss to her temple. “Let’s finish our movie, babygirl.”
Resigned to missing out on the yummy brownies they’d bought the day before, she forced herself to relax against him. And as the movie played, most of the aggravation over being denied faded. So that by the time the credits rolled, she was feeling much more like herself.
“Do you need to potty, baby?”
“Oh my god, Dylan,” she groaned, embarrassed heat rushing to her cheeks. “You did not just ask me that!”
“I did. And unless you want to be sitting on the toilet with a red-hot bottom, I suggest you remember what you call me, little girl.”
The humiliation heating her face grew even hotter. “Sorry, Daddy. It’s just embarrassing when you ask stuff like that!”
Capturing her chin, he forced her to turn her head to look at him. “Believe me when I tell you I can be much, much more embarrassing if you give me a reason. Go potty and I’ll get the next movie started.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
As soon as he released her, she hurried to the small half-bath just off her kitchen to do her business.
But when she stepped out again, the container of brownies sitting on top of her island caught her attention. It really wasn’t fair that she couldn’t have one, just because she hadn’t eaten the stupid strawberries.
Glancing one direction and then the other, she tiptoed into the kitchen. Excitement and fear playing tug-o-war in her tummy, she reached for the corner of the plastic container and pulled.
The crinkling of the plastic might as well have been an alarm going off, screaming that there was a naughty girl sneaking brownies for how damn loud it was. Freezing in place, she waited, not even daring to breathe for fear it would bring her Daddy running.
But when he didn’t come storming into the kitchen, paddle in hand after a count of ten, she slowly let her breath out and pried the container open. It was still loud, too loud, but maybe it only seemed extra loud to her because she was being naughty.
Guilt again twisted her tummy into a knot. Daddy had said no sweet treats, and he’d told her how proud of her he was for listening. And here she was, openly disobeying him anyway.
Maybe she should put the brownie back. Was it really worth disappointing her Daddy?
Ugh. Being Little was so hard sometimes.
“What do you think you’re doing, little girl?”
Fuck.
Dylan
If he’d ever seen a guiltier-looking babygirl in his life, he couldn’t remember. Spinning away from the island, Sam shoved her hands behind her back, her cheeks flushing bright red as she danced from one rainbow-covered foot to the other.
Fucking hell, she was adorable. Almost too cute to spank.
Almost.
Crossing his arms, he pinned her with the most Daddy look he could muster. Cute or not, she’d deliberately disobeyed him and that wasn’t something he could overlook. “I’m waiting, Samantha Kay.”
“Um, well.” The color in her cheeks deepened as she continued dancing. “I was just…”
“You were just what, little girl?”
He saw the moment her stubbornness took over. Eyes flashing, she jerked her chin up, her feet going still as she glared up at him. “I was getting a brownie because I’m an adult and I don’t have to follow ridiculous, made-up rules about what I’m allowed to eat!”
“Ridiculous, huh?”
He wasn’t mad. He sure as fuck wasn’t happy, but he wasn’t angry, either. Little girls were bound to test their Daddy’s limits, and his Sammie-girl was certainly testing his.
And he had every intention of passing this test with flying colors.
Some of the color leeched from her cheeks as her eyes went round, her throat moving rapidly as she swallowed. “I–I didn’t mean that, Daddy.”
“Oh, I think you absolutely did mean it, little girl.” Stepping forward, he held out a hand, palm up. “Give me the brownie, Samantha.”
To her credit, she didn’t even hesitate before placing the treat in his outstretched hand. “Thank you. Now, I want you to go in the living room and put your nose in a corner and think about why you’re about to get your naughty bottom paddled. Go.”
Cheeks once more blazing red, she hurried past him. Trusting she would do as she was told, at least for right now, he returned the brownie to the container, making a note of which one was hers. Not that it was difficult, since she’d squished it a bit when she’d gotten caught.
With the brownie returned to its rightful place, he left the kitchen, making a detour to his room for his newest purchase. He’d had a feeling when he’d added the item to his cart along with the clothes he’d bought for her that he’d be getting some good use out of it.
He just hadn’t expected it to be so soon.
Picking up the smooth, reddish paddle, he ran his palm over the gleaming wood.
Maybe he should have expected to be using it right away.
He’d seen how she’d reacted in Atlanta when he’d pushed her limits.
His Sammie-girl wanted to submit, wanted to be his baby—as long as it was on her terms. As soon as he asked something of her she didn’t want to give, she pushed back, hard.
Paddle in hand, he headed back to the living room, pausing beside the couch to take in the sight of her. The t-shirt he’d put her in offered absolutely no coverage of anything below her hips, and with her hands laced behind her head like he’d taught her, she was even more exposed.
Fucking adorable.
Get it together, Cross. She needs you to be firm right now.
“Come here, Samantha Kay.”