Chapter 6
I’ve never seenEmily’s eyes go as round as they do when I open the door and flick on the lights, revealing Blunts’ newest dungeon.
“Daddy,” she breathes.
She’s seen it in several stages of construction but she hasn’t seen it since the painters left and Brenna got started.
I haven’t always been Bren’s biggest fan, and I’m still against Emily getting a tattoo but I have to admit what Bren’s done with the Nursery is enough to fulfill any little’s dreams and bring a happy tear to any daddy’s eye.
“Is everything dry?” Emily asks. “Some of it is still shiny like it’s wet.”
“Bren told me it was ready to go. I think the shine is just whatever she sealed the paint with.”
Emily slowly gravitates to the central, and most eye-catching, feature of the Nursery. It’s a huge tree, growing out of the middle of the floor, the twisting, gnarled trunk spiraling up and through the ceiling. I had to get the architect who did Max’s loft in to help with the structural supports and permitting; she created a thing of wonder.
The ceiling has a fifteen-foot, clear plexiglass circle in it, so you can see up into the upper floor of the Nursery, where the tree branches create a canopy for the Tree House that forms the upper floor. Brenna’s painted the tree trunk. Lines of mushrooms with caps in sunset colors march up the wood. A smiling face with black button eyes peeks out from under each mushroom cup. Winding between the mushrooms are swirls of dancing fairies, their diaphanous wings glittering. A clutch of baby, fairy dragons peep out of a hollowed bole.
Emily drifts to the dragons and strokes their noses. When she turns to me, her eyes are glittering brighter than any of the fairy wings. “Are they emerald dragons . . .?”
“For Laurel? Of course they are. I didn’t forget, baby doll.”
She rushes to me and I fold her into my chest. “You like it?” I ask.
“I love it. So much, Daddy. Everything’s so beautiful. It’s like my dreams.”
I kiss her on the forehead as I look around. I don’t usually bother patting myself on the back. If I’ve done something right, I allow myself a moment to bask and then move on to the next thing.
But with the Nursery, I can pat myself on the back. I listened carefully not just to Emily’s fantasies but to what many of our little friends wanted. I incorporated as much as I could. More than was practical, according to the architect. She had to design a retrospective structural support for the kitchen and cellar below the wet play side of the room, where the tree, fish tank, water table, and sand box add so much weight to the room that the design exceeded the building’s load-bearing capacities.
But she did a damn fine job, and so did I.
Once Emily finishes her happy cry, I walk around the room with her. Brenna’s murals pull the three separate play areas together. The waves framing the jutting corner structure—which can be made into a pirate ship or castle just by spinning the center-mounted “planks”—lead to the clouds butterflies, and steampunk dirigible of the reading and napping corner, with its adult cradle. The clouds roll away from the corner toward the wet play area, turning into a rainbow bridge that unicorns and pegasi dance across, framing the two tables for coloring and artwork. The last unicorn has a fish tail, leading to the underwater mural with curious tropical fish, laughing dolphins, and mermaids that peek around the actual coral reef tank and tactile discovery wall, wet play corner, and sand box.
I show her some of the hidden features of the room: the bins of dress-up clothes concealed as wooden casks on the pirate ship; the “cannon” that converts into a spanking bench; the huge cupboard between the pirate ship and napping corner that opens into a changing table and curtained-off cage beneath; the built-in bookcases that Twitch has stocked with everything from Beatrix Potter to Cynnie’s bumblebee books; the rolling carts of art supplies. Emily touches everything with light fingers, her eyes shining.
“Daddy, can we go upstairs?” she asks, peering up through the cut-out into the second floor of the Nursery.
“That’s a space for bigger girls. Wouldn’t you like to be very little tonight?”
She glances at the cradle and I see the longing in her eyes. Oh, baby doll, try it. Show me that very little soul that keeps trying to break free. I sidle in that direction and pull out something I’ve been keeping in reserve for this occasion.
A pacifier with her name on it, edged in pink rhinestones.
She swallows and edges toward me. “Daddy? Is that for me?”
“It is. Would you like a spanking on the table here?” I open the diapering cabinet. “And then I could rock you with a hot bottom?”
Her breath catches. “I could see upstairs tomorrow.”
“You could,” I agree.
She nods.
I undress her reverently. If there was a time when I thought Emily was anything less than the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, it’s long past. Every curve, freckle, dimple, and fold of her body has become the table at which I feast, the altar at which I worship.
“I adore you, baby doll,” I tell her, as I kneel to unlace her boots.
Would my friend Sean, who pokes his head into the Nursery as I’m easing off the first boot, think I’m submitting to Emily, given our relative positions? Maybe. If he does, Sean’s too distracted by the wonder of the Nursery, as he leads his submissive in, to comment. Moon trots straight to the pirate ship.
Emily places a soft hand on my shoulder to steady herself as I take off the second boot. “I adore you, too, Daddy,” she whispers.
“Look around,” I say to her. “This is for you. This is because of you. Look at all the magic you’ve brought to my life, little wonder.”
She glances around, then back at me, and smiles tremulously. I flick my fingers across her cheek to catch a tear that spills.
“Good tears?”
She nods. “The best tears.”
I unzip and slip off the dress she’s worn and the black lace thigh-highs underneath. When she’s standing in just a black lace bralette and tiny knickers that make her skin glow like marble, I say, “Put your hands on my shoulders. I’m going to pick you up. That’s the last time you stand on your feet until we leave. My baby girl crawls for Daddy tonight.”
Her eyes are so huge and round, they encompass my world. “Yes, Daddy.”
I lift her onto the changing table. It has a thick pad, much thicker than on a child’s changing table. More like a mattress. It’s sized for an adult and Emmy can stretch out on it. It’s at the perfect fucking height. There are several shallow drawers built into the walls on either side, where the supplies are kept. I open one and take out a cloth diaper and a pair of diaper pins.
I’ve read about diapering in every parenting book and online guide I could find since finding out about Olivia. Reading doesn’t prepare me for the reality of it. The warmth of Emily’s soft curves as I draw her knickers off and run my fingertips reverently over her hips. The weight of her legs as I lift them over my shoulders. The sweet musk that rises to me as her thighs part naturally.
“I’m going to put a diaper on you, my angel baby.” A spark kindles in her eyes. She’s known this was coming. We’ve talked about it. She’s seen the cloth diaper and pins I’ve set next to her. But the reality of it just hit her. And filled her with heat. “You don’t have to use the diaper. But if you do, Daddy will clean it up. Just like Daddy cleans up all his little girl’s messes.”
She nods, her shining eyes never leaving mine.
“Daddy’s going to give you a warm bottom to start but I can think of another use for these.” I pick up one of the diaper pins. “If I wanted to see a ladder of pins up your sides, would that be too much pain for tonight?”
“No, Daddy, it wouldn’t be too much pain,” she breathes.
“That’s my wonderful girl. I want you to feel free to be as little as you’d like during this scene. If that means you can’t talk, that’s good with me. If you feel like baby talking, that’s good with me. This Nursery is a safe space for you, Emmy. You can be whatever you want here.”
Her lower lip trembles. “As little as I’d like?”
I stroke my hands up and down her legs. “Yes, little love. As little as feels right to you.”
She nods. “You’ll be my daddy no matter what?”
“Emmy, baby, nothing could stop me from being your daddy now. Nothing you could do. Nothing you don’t do. If you told me tomorrow you don’t want to be my little girl anymore, I would still always be your daddy in my heart. That will never change for me.”
A crystal tear wells, spills, and runs down her temple before I catch it on my thumb and tip it to her lips to lick off.
“My forever-Daddy?”
“Yes, baby. Your forever-Daddy.”
“My forever-Daddy who gives me a hot bottom?”
I flick her curved lips with my thumb. “Little mischief. Grab your ankles.”
She does. I adjust her position until her bottom’s right at the edge of the pad and I have clear access to every part of her sweet, curved ass.
As I’m rubbing to warm up her skin, I hear a sharp smack from my right. While continuing to circle my hands over Emily’s deliciously soft curves, I look over my shoulder at the source of the sound. Sean’s flipped over the ship/castle’s barrel and has Moon bent over the padded bench. He’s ahead of me. His handprint is already blooming on Moon’s golden cheek.
I wink at him before I apply my hand to my own subbie’s bottom.
Emily’s eyes go from glittering to glazed as I heat her ass. She whimpers when I focus on her sit-spots, making sure they’re a glowing red before I move to her upper thighs. She’s flushed with endorphins now, her face as red as her bottom, the flush spreading up to her delicate ears and down her throat. She whimpers when I concentrate on the crease between her thighs and buttocks but that’s not because of the increased sensitivity but rather because my hand is so close to her pussy lips, compressed between her trembling thighs.
“I know what my little girl wants,” I murmur to her.
“You, Daddy,” she whispers.
“Yes, me. What else do you want, baby? I think it’s a pussy spanking you’re whimpering and wriggling for. Aren’t I right?”
She nods fervently. “Please, Daddy. And please may I come?”
“Are you that close, little girl?”
“Yes, Daddy. I don’t want to come without permission.”
I stroke her soft, slippery slit with my thumb. Parting her gently, I tease her clit until the pearl of it peeks out of its hood. Leaning in, I blow on it and grin at her shudder.
“Please, Daddy?”
“Mmm, not yet. Hold it for me, Emmy.”
Her legs shake and she shifts restlessly, getting a better grip behind her knees.
I bend down and run the tip of my tongue up her slit, then push inside until I find her opening. Emily keens softly. I fuck her with my tongue for several strokes, then lick up her bready sweetness while she writhes.
“Daddy, Daddy, I’m close. Please, Daddy?”
I lick up her thigh and look at my little girl. Her body’s bowed off the pad as she strains, trying to hold back her orgasm without losing position. Her flush has spread down to the tops of her breasts, throwing her adorable freckles into sharp relief. I reach up and run my hands down her body, appreciating each tremble of restraint.
“I’m so pleased with you, Emmy. Do you want Daddy’s cock for long enough to come?”
“Please, please, Daddy.”
“Good girl. Hold back long enough for me to get all the way inside you so I can feel you come on my cock. Then you have permission to come.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
She’s so good, my baby girl. Even though I can feel her gripping at me as soon as I push the head of my cock in, she holds back, her neck straining, body taut. I tease her, slipping in and drawing back, knowing each moment she holds back will make the release stronger when I finally let her have it. She pants, each breath harsh in the changing table’s alcove. Her fingers flex on the back of her calf, reaching for me. I twine my fingers with hers as I sink all the way in, making sure she feels the bump of my balls.
She howls softly on a long exhale, all the tension in her body unraveling. Her pussy rolls over and over my shaft, deep draws that have my own muscles shaking. I’m close from our play but I hold myself back. Our months together have strengthened my control. Knowing I can have Emily anytime I want has made taking her like this, glorying in her release while staving off my own, strangely satisfying. The longer I wait for my orgasm, the more often I can fuck her during one scene. It’s not selfless, because I derive a huge amount of pleasure from the fucking but Emily’s pleasure has definitely become more important than my own.
When her body goes completely limp around mine, I withdraw and tuck myself back into the soft pants I wear for scenes. I stroke Emily’s legs until her eyes focus on mine.
“Daddy?”
“Hi, my baby. Good one?”
She grins. “Love you most today, Daddy.”
“I don’t think that’s possible.” I pull out a pack of baby wipes and clean her up, then tip her hips up further and slide the diaper under her. I loosen her hands—she’s held position for me so perfectly—and let her knees fall open naturally as I bring the front flap of the diaper up.
She lifts her eyes to the alcove ceiling, painted with clouds and a herd of little elephants dancing around the light fixture, huffing out a soft breath.
“No, baby. Eyes on me. I know this is a hard moment for you. Daddy’s right here for you. Stay focused on me.”
Her eyes immediately snap down to mine. They’re hazy with afterglow, gleaming with emotion as she lets go of all the fears that have held her back from expressing her deepest little self.
“That’s my good girl. I’m so proud of you, Emily. My wonderful angel baby. Look at you, taking this big step. Being brave and vulnerable for Daddy. There’s so much strength in you, baby doll. You awe me.”
“Daddy,” she breathes.
“That’s right, little girl. Daddy’s in awe of you.” I pull up the diaper’s sides and secure them to the front flap with the diaper pins. “Diaper’s on, my good girl. How does it feel?”
“Soft. Strange. You won’t-you won’t be mad at me if I can’t use it?”
“Never, baby. You’ve taken such a big step in letting me diaper you. It doesn’t matter to me if you never use it.”
Her stomach collapses as she lets out a big breath. “Thank you. Ta, Daddy.”
I wipe down the soft curves on either side of her tummy, above the diaper’s edge. The sharpness of the alcohol wipe cuts through the musk of her pleasure. “Deep breath in.”
She sucks in a breath and holds it. I pinch a bit of skin an inch above the diaper and push a diaper pin through it. The diaper pin’s not as sharp as an acupuncture needle and a bead of blood rolls over her pale skin. I wipe it away as she lets the breath out shakily.
“Good girl. How does that feel?”
“Sharp pinch and then dull ache,” she mumbles, processing the pain.
I watch her closely, feeling that dark bloom in my heart. The gratification is almost as strong as an orgasm. It’s the peak of control, demanding another suffer for you. It’s undistilled love. Complete devotion. I stroke my palm up and down her breastbone, caressing her throat. “Good girl. Ready for another?”
She nods. I pinch another bit of skin an inch above the first piercing and push the pin through. I’ve done better with this piercing and only a dot of blood wells around the metal. Emily trembles but doesn’t even whimper as I dab both piercings with alcohol wipes to make sure they’re clean, then match up her other side with two pins.
I stop there, even though there’s a cruel impulse to continue the ladder up to her bra-line. But Emily’s cheeks have lost color and I don’t want to ruin what’s been an amazing scene by pushing her too far. As always, Emily’s love has filled that void inside me, that dark craving only my submissive’s pain can sate. I run my fingertips down each set of pins to hear her breath catch, then wipe them again with an alcohol wipe, before giving her the praise she’s so richly earned.
“My wonderful girl, I wish you could see yourself through my eyes. Lying there wearing the diaper Daddy’s put on you. Bearing Daddy’s piercings. You fill my eyes. I can’t see anything but you, baby. You fill my heart and soul. I feel nothing but peace and love in this moment, Emmy. You’ve given me that. As long as I have you, I’m the richest man on Earth. Your trust and love is worth more than anything else in the world.”
She smiles even as tears spill down her temples. “You’re everything to me, Daddy.”
I wipe her tears away with the backs of my hands to avoid getting any of the disinfectant on my fingers in her eyes. “You’re everything to me, baby doll. I never imagined how much happiness you’d bring into my life. I’m so grateful for you, Emmy.”
“Daddy. Same, Daddy.”
I chuckle. “Same, huh?”
She nods and I wonder if she’s getting overwhelmed. Emily’s so articulate; when she gets less verbal, it’s a sign her emotions are swamping her linguistic cortex. But this could also be what she’s like in very littlespace. I’ll have to watch how it goes.
But for now, I want to give my little girl something she’s wanted for a long time.
I lift her off the changing table, wrapping her around me so she straddles my hips, which puts no pressure on the piercings. Grateful I’ve finally recovered enough that I can carry her without strain or risk of dropping her, I walk over to the long cradle near the reading and napping corner.
It’s shaped like a dingy, narrowing to a point at one end. The other end is flattened. With the prow, it would be an uncomfortable squeeze for a tall man or woman but for my tiny baby doll, it’s an easy fit. I lower her into it and check on the piercings to make sure they haven’t started bleeding again. Once I’m reassured, I cover her with a light blanket and slip the pacifier into her mouth. Her eyes shutter, reddened lids coming together and parting slowly.
“That’s right, my baby girl. You relax and let Daddy rock you. If you feel sleepy, let yourself drift off. Daddy will wake you when it’s time to go.”
She nods sleepily.
I pull a stool over from the reading nook and park myself next to the cradle.
I rock her for less than five minutes before the pacifier drops out of her slack mouth. She gives a tiny, adorable snore.
Even after she’s asleep, I rock her for a long time, looking down at my little wonder. Feeling the swell of impossible emotion in my chest. Her hand’s clutching the blanket between her breasts. The pink diamond glinting on her ring finger reminds me that as hard as that diamond is, there’s a harder, more unbreakable core of trust and faith between us. We’ve had to fight to get to this place. We’ve battled through injury and adversity and insecurity to get here. And it’s been worth every scar.