Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
“Wow…” I whisper as I step into Daddy’s house. “It’s so pretty.”
He laughs. “No one has ever called my house pretty before.” He bends down to remove the leash from my harness before rounding to tip my head back with fingers on my chin. “You may explore, Little one, but I have rules I expect you to obey.”
I swallow. “Okay, Daddy.” My body reacts oddly to his declaration. The flutters return. I like his rules.
“No opening the door to the front or the backyard without permission. No running in the house. No climbing onto anything except to sit on a chair or the sofa. No touching anything dangerous in the kitchen—stove, oven, knives…”
I scrunch my face at that last one. “I’ve been using knives and fire for ten years, Daddy.” I do it every day to cook for my father.
“And now you won’t. Littles on the island live by a different set of rules for safety. You’ll be playing in a very young headspace all the time, and it’s not safe to do grownup things in that mindset. Understood?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Just like when we were at Noah’s apartment, no standing in the playpen or your crib. There are monitors in every room. I can always see you even if I’m not with you. If you need me, I will come.”
“Okay, Daddy.”
“Good girl.” He kisses me on the nose. “Why don’t you go check out your nursery while I get that giant pile of books from the golf cart.”
I giggle. “They let me check out twice as many books as are allowed by using your name and mine.”
“I know. I heard you negotiating with the librarian, sweet girl.”
“After I look around, can I read?” I’m anxious to dive into a book. It’s been a while since I last held a paperback in my hands, smelled it, devoured it, lost myself in it.
“First a bottle, then a nap. After your nap you may read.”
I’m slightly disappointed, but I throw my arms around his body and hug him. “Thank you, Daddy.”
While he heads back out to the golf cart, I turn around and dash toward the hallway.
“Lacey,” he calls out, his tone harsh, “no running.”
I slow my stride. Oops.
“What is that?” I ask Daddy that evening when he carries me into the kitchen and stops in front of the refrigerator. There’s a large chart of some sort attached to the door by magnets.
“It’s a sticker chart.”
I reach out and touch it. “What’s it for?”
He opens a drawer next to the fridge and pulls out a clear white container before heading for the table where he sets it down and takes a seat, settling me on his lap.
Daddy opens the lid and holds the box closer to me.
My breath hitches. “Oh, wow, those are so pretty.” There are dozens of stickers inside.
“The sticker chart is for rewards. Every day you will wake up with a clean slate and four stickers waiting for you at the end of the day. If you break a rule or misbehave, you lose a sticker for that day. If you’re naughty four or more times, you will not get any stickers at all, and you will spend the last part of the evening standing in the corner instead of having Daddy read to you.”
I gasp and look at him with wide eyes. That sounds horrible.
He chuckles. “For my Little girl, I suspect denying her stickers will be a strong enough deterrent to keep her from misbehaving.”
“Instead of spanking me.”
“Exactly.”
I look at the pretty stickers. “I’ll be good, Daddy. Always.” I want those stickers. “Do I get four today?”
“Nope. You get three. You ran through the house two seconds after I told you no running.” He lifts a brow.
I lower my gaze as my lip starts to quiver. He’s right. I did do that.
He hugs me close. “Goodness. I thought the positive reinforcement would be a good idea, but I don’t want it to make you cry.”
I wipe at the tears gathering in the corners of my eyes, but a sob escapes before I can stop it. “I want to be good, Daddy.” I hiccup.
“Sweet girl, you are good. Always. Littles make mistakes. They sometimes do so on purpose. Do you know why?” He leans me back to meet my gaze.
“No.”
“For one thing, everyone makes mistakes. That’s human nature. But Littles have a tendency to test their Daddies to make sure they will follow through on a punishment. It makes them feel loved. I would be a terrible Daddy if I didn’t set boundaries and then enforce them. You’ll understand quickly. You’re a super smart Little girl.”
I frown as I wipe away my tears. “I’m not smart. I didn’t even go to high school.”
“Oh, sweet girl. Attending school does not make anyone smart, nor does not attending mean you’re not smart. You’re super intelligent and resourceful. You’ve spent years figuring out how to do things all by yourself, including cooking and cleaning and using the internet. You were stealthy about it, and I’m so proud of you. The most important thing you learned to do was walk a fine line that kept you alive for all these years. That took courage.”
I stare at him. “I’m not courageous. I’m a coward. I should have run away. I was too scared. I should have gone to the police or even a neighbor’s house, but I was too chicken.”
He shakes his head. “You’re alive because you did your best to make that true.”
I sniffle. “I bet he’s going to be home soon. He’s going to be very mad when he finds me gone.”
“He can be mad all he wants. He will never lay a hand on you again.” Daddy points at the stickers. “Choose three. Let’s put them on your chart.”
I carefully look through the giant pile and pick them out one at a time. When I show them to Daddy, I say, “I understand.”
“You understand what, sweet girl?”
“Not picking four stickers makes me feel like you spanked me.”
He smiles. “That’s what I thought. Let’s go put them on the chart. Each day has four spots. When you look at them throughout the month, you’ll be reminded of the days you did not earn all four.”
I kind of hate that my first day ends with only three stickers, but I like the way Daddy stands behind me with his hands on my shoulders while I carefully place each sticker. I like the way he says he’s proud of me. It’s been a long time since anyone was proud of me.
When he’s done, he swoops me off the floor, kisses all over my face, and takes me to the nursery. After sitting me on the changing table, he pulls my shirt off, leans me back, and then reaches for the restraints.
I whimper as he fastens my arms above my head.
“When your wrist is fully healed, I will restrain them instead of using a strap across your arms.”
“Yes, Sir.” I watch him as he continues to restrain me under my breasts and across my hips.
He removes my diaper next. “Legs open wide for me, Little one.” He smooths his palms down my inner thighs, making me moan. “That’s my good girl. It feels good when Daddy straps you down, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, Sir,” I murmur. It feels so very good. Instantly my pussy is wet and swollen, even before he touches me. When he does finally stroke through my folds, it’s like a tornado flips my world upside down. “Daddy…”
“I know, Little one. Daddy’s going to make you feel good.” He taps my clit before circling it several times with his finger. He gathers my wetness and uses it to coat my folds before dragging my arousal down toward my tight bottom hole.
“Daddy…” I protest when he taps the puckered skin at the entrance.
“No part of you will be off-limits to Daddy, Lacey. I’m going to put medicine in your little bottom every morning. I want you to know what it’s going to feel like. I want you to get used to having Daddy’s fingers inside you.”
I whimper and squirm as he teases the tight entrance.
When he finally pushes his finger into my hole, I moan. I can’t believe how it could possibly feel good. It’s so naughty. It seems dirty. Literally and figuratively. But Daddy is staring at me so intently.
“That’s my good girl. Submit to Daddy. Submit all of yourself to me, Little one.” He eases his finger in and out.
I can’t fight the strange sensation that’s growing inside me. It’s so intense, especially with Daddy holding my gaze. He slides his thumb to my special button—my clit—and rubs it, causing me to feel an intense orgasm building.
My eyes roll back as I accept the feelings. I’m starting to fully understand what it means to be Little and why I’m so attracted to the idea. There’s no greater feeling in the world than having Daddy devote his entire attention to me.
He’s going to take me places I never dreamed of. Not just physical places like Littleworld but intense emotional places where I explode into tiny pieces under his touch.
He pushes his finger deeper into my bottom and presses firmly against my clit. “Come for me, sweet girl. I want to feel your bottom pulse around my finger. Show me how good it feels to submit to Daddy.”
I shatter. Every part of me seems to scatter around the room. And I’m not sorry. There’s no greater feeling in the world.