Chapter 21
CHAPTER 21
Leaning back a bit, Mrs. Cat opened her bag and pulled out a large binder that she placed on her lap. “I talked to some of your teachers and they said you have a habit of forgetting assignments. Would you say that happens sometimes? Or even a lot?”
Heat snuck into Eliza’s cheeks. “A lot. I don’t mean to. But sometimes I get busy doing other stuff and then it just kinda… poofs out of my head.”
“I see. Does that ‘poof’ happen with other things? Like appointments or important dates?”
“Yeah,” she admitted with a sigh. “If it wasn’t for social media I don’t think I’d remember anyone’s birthdays.”
Mrs. Cat’s smile was full of understanding. “It is pretty helpful, huh? What about physical things? Do you have a tendency to lose things?”
“All the time. It’s been easier the past few days because Daddy makes me put my important things in their proper place every night. But before that I used to lose stuff all the time. It used to drive Kylie a little nuts because I was always running late because I couldn’t find my shoes or my phone or my bookbag.”
There were lots more questions, and by the time they finished, Eliza was feeling a little sick to her stomach. So many questions, not just about forgetting stuff but her emotions and thoughts. And none of it sounded particularly good.
But Mrs. Cat didn’t look worried or upset, so she tried to tell herself it was okay. And Daddy’s arms around her made it a little easier.
“One last thing and then I think we can be done for tonight. Eliza, when you were little, were you ever on any medication?”
“No.” She paused, her mind scrambling to parse the question. “I mean, when I got sick, yeah. But I didn’t have any kind of medicine I took every day. Is that what you mean?”
“That’s exactly what I mean. Did you ever talk to a doctor like me about not being able to focus in class and the other things we talked about?”
“No.” Eliza shrugged. “I got in trouble in school a lot and I know my parents were disappointed I didn’t turn out to be super smart like them, but I never talked to a doctor about it.”
“It makes me sad that you don’t think you’re smart, Eliza. I think you’re a very bright Little girl.”
“Oh. Um, well, thank you.” Nobody had called her bright before. Her parents had called her smart a lot, but usually just to remind her she was “too smart to be failing math” or “too smart to be ruining her life” because she couldn’t keep a job. Nobody had ever just told her she was smart or bright as a no-strings-attached compliment.
“You’re very welcome, Eliza. I have a friend who works specifically with people in the BDSM community and she specializes in ADHD and other neurodivergence in women. If I called her, would you be willing to talk some more with her?”
The panic she’d felt earlier when Daddy had told her Dr. Denten was coming to visit welled up inside her again. “Do you think there’s something wrong with my brain?”
“No, sweetheart. I think your brain is just beautiful. I do, however, think you might benefit from some medicine that will help you focus a little better. And I have some suggestions I printed out for you and your Daddy to look at. Like having a set schedule with routines clearly spelled out, keeping your assignments listed out where you can see them every day, things like that. Dr. Williams will probably have some more suggestions, but these should get you started.”
Reaching out, she took the paper from Mrs. Cat without bothering to look at it before she passed it to Daddy. She was starting to get that panicky, this-is-all-too-much feeling again. “Daddy, what’s for dinner? I hope it’s not green beans.”
“And that’s our cue to stop.” He pressed a kiss to her temple. “Good girl letting Daddy know you were feeling overwhelmed, baby. Why don’t you go lie down with your bear and I’ll see Mrs. Cat out.”
“Okay. Bye, Mrs. Cat.”
“Bye, Eliza. It was lovely to meet you.”
She raced for her bedroom, barely resisting the urge to slam the door behind her. She wasn’t angry, not like she had been when she’d been in so much trouble earlier. It was more like she wanted to cry and she wasn’t sure why. And because she wasn’t sure why, she couldn’t seem to make the tears come, no matter how badly her chest and throat hurt.
Muffled voices drifted through the door and she wondered what they were saying about her. Was Mrs. Cat telling Daddy she was a lost cause and he’d be better off with another Little who wasn’t so much trouble? Or was he telling Mrs. Cat he didn’t want a Little who needed so much of his attention? Maybe he was?—
The door to her bedroom opened, interrupting her spiral. “I’m sorry I’m such a mess,” she blurted out before burying her face in the General’s fur.
“Nobody said you were a mess, baby.” Her mattress dipped and a moment later she was being lifted up into his arms. “My poor Little girl. Today was a hard day, huh?”
“Really hard.”
“What do you usually do when you have a bad day? Do you have a favorite movie to watch, maybe a game you like to play?”
She thought for a moment. “Kylie and I usually go down to the store and stock up on junk food and watch a movie together.”
“Done. Do you want to change your clothes first or go in your pajamas?”
It should have made her happy that he wanted to spoil her. But the weight in her stomach that had been there all day just grew heavier. “I don’t know.”
“What don’t you know, baby?”
“I don’t know.”
“Baby, I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”
“If I knew, I wouldn’t have said ‘I don’t know’,” she snapped, immediately regretting her tone when her Daddy’s arms tightened around her.
“Hmm. It sounds to me like maybe my Little girl needs her bottom warmed before we go downstairs.”
“Daddy, no!” But even as she protested, her heart leapt at the offer. “I don’t want a spankin’!”
“I know, baby. But maybe you need one. To help you process all those big feelings from today.” He patted her hip gently. “Hop down. Daddy’s going to go get your brush.”
“No,” she whined, sliding from his lap to crumple on the bed with the General still clutched in her arms. “Not the brush!”
“How about this, little one. We’ll start with Daddy’s hand, and if you’re able to get all those big emotions out, then we won’t need to use the brush. Does that sound fair?”
“No. It sounds stupid.”
Daddy sighed. “I have a feeling we are definitely going to need the brush.”
Poor Little girl. It was obvious she was having some very big feelings and she wasn’t sure how to process them. Much like what had happened earlier today if he wasn’t mistaken. Luckily for her, but perhaps unluckily for her bottom, he had a hunch that he knew exactly how to help her process those big feelings.
Brush in hand, he made his way back to the bedroom and settled on the bed with his back against the large wooden headboard. “Come here, baby.”
“I don’t wanna ,” she protested with a whine, but it didn’t escape his notice that she crawled right over his lap despite her insistence she didn’t want a spanking.
“I know, little one. But Daddy’s going to help you feel better.”
“By making my butt hurt?”
She was adorable, all pouty and whiny in her cute pink pajamas with her stuffed bear in her arms. Exactly how he’d always imagined his Little girl.
Well. Perhaps not exactly . He had fantasized a lot about having a baby girl who would rely on him for her most intimate needs. But it seemed a small price to pay, giving up those fantasies to have Lizzie, his Lizzie over his knee and in his arms.
He tugged her shorts down, exposing the swell of her bottom, her perfect, pale skin just waiting for her Daddy’s hand. Cupping one cheek, he gave it a gentle squeeze before moving to the other. “I want to be very clear that this is not a punishment, Lizzie. This is just to help you work through everything that’s happened today.”
“Does that mean I’m getting another spanking later?” she asked softly. “Cuz I chickened out of my first punishment?”
“That is the last time I’m going to let you get away with saying that, little girl. The next time you say anything negative about using your safe word, yes, you will be getting another spanking. With Daddy’s belt. Am I being perfectly clear?”
“But—”
“Eliza. Am I making myself clear?”
“Crystal,” she muttered, letting out a dramatic sigh. “That doesn’t answer my question, though.”
“You will be reporting to Mr. Chambers’ office in the morning for your punishment from him, as discussed. But you and I are good, baby. I think you’ve more than learned your lesson about lying to Daddy, haven’t you?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Then no, you won’t be getting another spanking tonight unless you earn one. As far as I’m concerned, your slate is clean.”
“Thank you, Daddy.”
She wasn’t the first woman to call him Daddy. But hearing those sweet words from her lips now, he knew she would be the last. His heart swelled with love for her as he gave her bottom another squeeze. “This right now, is just about making you feel better. Once we get all those big feelings out, it’s ice cream and snuggles on the couch for the rest of the evening.”
The first swat made her jump and yelp, even though he hadn’t actually spanked her all that hard. He wanted to warm her up a good bit first, to give her time to really process those emotions. Too hard, too fast, and all she’d be able to focus on was the pain.
So he let it build, warming her bottom with spanks and stopping every so often to rub the warmth into her pink skin. And as he spanked, she relaxed over his lap, until it seemed like every ounce of stress had simply drained out of her body.
That’s when he got mean.
Wrapping an arm around her waist, he held her tightly as he upped the ante. Spanking hard enough for her to start kicking her legs, then squirming to escape his hold.
“Oh, Daddy, no! That’s too hard!”
It wasn’t because he knew damn well she could take harder. And because she wasn’t anywhere close to breaking yet. “Hmmm. No, I don’t think it is, little one.”
“It is, it is!” She was crying out now, loudly, but there was no hint of panic in her voice. Only the pleading tones of a Little girl trying to get out of a spanking she desperately needed. “Daddy, please!”
At that, he spanked even harder, targeting the sensitive area where her bottom and thighs met and making her struggle even more fiercely to escape.
“Daddy, stop!” She drew the words out on a long whining plea, still kicking and fighting to escape his hard hand. “I’m sorry!”
Stopping, he cupped her bottom and squeezed. “What are you sorry for, baby? ”
“I don’t know!” she cried. “For, um, not… for being so… I don’t know .”
“You don’t know, because you have nothing to be sorry for, baby. This isn’t a punishment, remember?”
“It feels like one!” Her tone held a note of accusation that nearly made him laugh.
“I’m sure.” If anything, he was spanking her much harder and longer than he usually did for a punishment. “But you’re not in trouble, remember? What’s this spanking for, Lizzie baby?”
“To, um, to help me with my ‘motions.”
“Exactly. But it seems to Daddy you’re still clinging really tight to all those big feelings, and Daddy’s hand is getting tired. So I think we’re going to have to use the brush after all.”