Chapter 16
TABITHA
Fear twists my stomach back into a giant knot. But even though I can feel tears pricking at my eyes, my heart doesn’t start racing again. I deserve this pain. Regardless of how hurt I was feeling downstairs, it was no excuse for me to act out the way I did.
And maybe if I let him hurt me, he won’t send me away.
The door to my right opens and I twist my head to see Uncle Ford stepping into the room again, this time clutching a bag full of soapy water with a long hose attached. “Are we ready?”
“We are,” Daddy answers, holding his hand out for the bag. “She’s already strapped in, but I’m going to need you to hold her legs for me.”
“Of course.” Gripping my ankles, Uncle Ford lifts them straight up. “Are you comfortable, little one?”
The fact that he’s asking if I’m comfortable while they prepare to torture me nearly surprises a laugh out of me. But I don’t think they’d appreciate my humor, so I swallow the laugh and nod. “Yes, Uncle Ford.”
A soft smile curves his lips. “Such a polite Little girl you have, Colt.”
“She is. Normally,” Daddy adds in a dry tone that has my tummy twisting again.
“I’m really sorry, Daddy. I didn’t mean to be bad.”
Shifting his hold on my ankles, Uncle Ford reaches down to run a soothing hand over my hair. “Oh, sweetheart. Little girls are never bad. You might have done something naughty, but you could never, ever be bad.”
“I feel bad,” I whisper, the tears I’ve been fighting back ever since Daddy carried me upstairs slipping from my eyes.
The two men standing over me share a look before shifting their attention back to me. “Listen to your Uncle Ford, babygirl. He’s really smart about some things.”
“I’m really smart about a lot of things,” Uncle Ford mumbles, but there’s a smile tugging at his lips that tells me he’s not really mad.
“All right, little firecracker. Daddy is going to put the nozzle in your bottom now. You’ll probably feel a little pinch like we talked about.”
Something slender prods at my bottom hole and I close my eyes, willing my body to relax. I already know fighting him is only going to end with me getting my bottom spanked, and I really, really don’t want a sore bottom on top of the enema.
The nozzle slides inside me with a slight pinch as advertised, but overall it’s not bad and I’m able to relax again with a quiet sigh.
“You’re taking your punishment so well, baby.
” Daddy’s tone is oddly soothing, as if he’s not the one doling out said punishment.
“I’m going to open the hose now. You’ll feel a bit of discomfort as the water fills you up, and then some cramping.
But no matter how bad the cramping gets, I need you to hold the liquid in until I give you permission to release it. Understood?”
“Y-yes, Daddy.”
“Good girl. Here comes the water.”
There’s a soft snick and then an uncomfortably full feeling as the water rushes into my bowels. It’s not horrible… at least not at first.
I don’t have a clock to keep track of time, but it isn’t very long at all before the first cramp hits. My stomach contracts, as if it’s telling me that it’s time to start looking for a bathroom, and I can’t help but wince at the flash of pain.
“Don’t worry, baby. That’s just the soap and water washing those naughties out of your tummy. You’ll feel so much better once we get them all out.”
Another cramp hits, this one even stronger, and I can’t stop the whine that slips from my lips. “Daddy… it hurts.”
“I know, little one.”
Pain stabs at my stomach, sharp, blinding, and I let out another whine. “Daddy, please! I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”
“What are you sorry for?”
I can barely think through the pain, but maybe if I answer him, he’ll end my torment. Gasping for air, I try to focus, to think. “I–I threw my plate against the wall and made a mess! I’m sorry, Daddy, please! It hurts, it hurts!”
“You still have a few minutes left, little one. We need to give the soap time to work so we don’t have to repeat this lesson.”
The thought of going through this hell again has a sob rising up in my throat, choking me. “Please… I can’t…”
“Tabitha.” His voice is sharp, cutting through the haze of agony covering my brain. “You are not allowed to let go yet. If you make a mess, Daddy will spank your bottom and then you’ll get another enema with Daddy’s cum. Do you hear me?”
Oh, god. No. I might actually die if that happens. “Y-yes, D-Daddy,” I manage to gasp out between waves of pain.
“Good girl. Just a little while longer.” A gentle hand comes to rest on my sweat-soaked forehead. “You’re being so very brave for me, little firecracker. I know this is a hard punishment, but you’re taking it so well. It’s almost done.”
His praise doesn’t dull the pain, but it does somehow make it easier to bear.
For what feels like hours, I whimper and whine and cry my way through wave after wave of cramping in my tummy.
And just when it feels like I might actually die if I have to hold it in one second longer, Daddy’s arms slide under me and I’m lifted into the air.
“Here we go, baby,” he says as he gently sets me down on the cool porcelain. “You can let go now.”
The humiliation I felt during our wedding ceremony is nothing compared to what courses through me now as I empty my bowels into the bowl beneath me.
Sobs rack my body as the enema does exactly what Daddy said it would, cleaning me out until I am empty, drained of every bit of naughty energy I might have possessed.
“Shh, baby. It’s all over. Daddy’s going to get you cleaned up now.”
I’m too weak to stand on my own, so he helps me to my feet and wipes me clean before carrying me to the tub, which is already full. Tears are still streaming down my face as I sink into the warm water, but at least I’m not sobbing quite as hard anymore.
Daddy says something to Uncle Ford, but I’m too exhausted to try and eavesdrop. Instead I simply float, my eyes closed as I let the water ease the lingering aches in my body.
Then Daddy is kneeling beside the tub, reaching for the bottle of body wash to squirt onto the washcloth in his hand. “My sweet little girl,” he coos, rubbing the cloth gently over my arm. “You had such a big day, didn’t you?”
“Uh-huh,” I answer, adding a pitiful sniffle in the hopes it might gain me some more of that soothing sympathy. “So big.”
“I know, baby. Daddy’s going to get you cleaned up and into something comfy to wear to bed.”
He makes quick work of the bath, taking a surprising amount of care with my sore bottom hole as he washes me clean.
When I’ve been fully scrubbed from head to toe, he scoops me out of the tub and dries me off with the fluffiest towel I’ve ever felt in my entire life.
My eyes are drooping closed by the time he wraps me in a fresh diaper and pulls an oversized t-shirt over my head.
“I had to have everything from our shopping trip shipped, so your new clothes won’t be here until tomorrow,” he explains quietly, almost apologetically. “But Daddy’s shirt will keep you nice and cozy for one night.”
Once I’m clean and dry and dressed for bed, he carries me to a giant chair, where he sits with me on his lap. He kicks his foot, and the chair begins to rock back and forth, the movements making it harder and harder to keep my eyes open.
“All right, little one. We need to talk about what happened downstairs.”
Snuggling into him, I shake my head. “Don’t wanna.”
“I know, baby. But Daddy needs to know what happened. Why were you so upset?”
The question surprises me. I’d expected a lecture about why what I did was so naughty and how Little girls shouldn’t make messes. Instead, he wants to know about my feelings?
It’s so surprising, in fact, I can’t even find the words to answer him. “Dunno.”
“Tabitha. Daddy can’t help you if you aren’t honest. Tell me what you were so angry about at dinner.”
Never in my life has anyone asked me to tell them why I got upset. In all my foster homes, any negative emotion was simply met with punishment. Usually in the form of being sent to my room to be alone with my thoughts.
“I don’t know how,” I confess quietly, and I think if I wasn’t so completely drained, I might start crying again. “I’m sorry, I’m not being naughty, I just—I’m not used to talking about this stuff.”
“What stuff, baby?”
“My feelings.”
Beneath my cheek, his chest rumbles with what almost sounds like a growl. “Nobody’s ever let you talk about your feelings?”
“Not really. Nobody’s ever really asked.”
Silence falls around us, and worry wiggles its way into my brain. Is he angry? Did I say something wrong?
Before I can apologize, the door on the other side of the room opens and Uncle Ford steps in carrying a tray. “Uncle Eli made you a fresh plate and some of his special frozen hot chocolate.”
Daddy sighs. “He’s going to spoil her.”
“Nonsense.” Winking at me, Uncle Ford sets the tray down on the table beside the chair Daddy and I are curled up in. “You can’t spoil a baby. Do you need anything else, sweetheart?”
“Can you tell Uncle Eli I’m really sorry I wasted his food and made a mess?”
“Of course.” Leaning forward, Uncle Ford presses a kiss to my forehead. “I’m going to go and let your Daddy take care of you. But we all wanted to tell you that we’re so very happy you’re a part of our family, little Tabby.”
“Really?”
“Yes, sweetheart. Really.”
“Even though I was super naughty?” I can’t help but press.
Uncle Ford chuckles softly. “Sweetheart, if it weren’t for naughty Little girls, we wouldn’t have any Little girls around here. I promise you that we love you, no matter how naughty you are. Okay?”
“‘Kay.” I don’t believe him, but I don’t have the energy to argue, either.
“That’s our girl.” Straightening, he turns his attention to Daddy. “Will we see you again tonight?”
“After I get Tabby down.”
Something flickers across Uncle Ford’s face, but it’s gone too quickly for me to figure out what it is. “All right. I’ll let the others know.”
“Thanks, Ford.”
When Uncle Ford turns to leave, Daddy shifts me on his lap, reaching for the plate full of food. And despite how tired I am, my tummy immediately grumbles as the yummy smells hit my nose.
Chuckling, Daddy scoops up a forkful of pot roast. “Open up, little one.”
Unlike downstairs, I immediately open my mouth for him to feed me. The roast hits my tongue and I groan, my eyes rolling upward as flavors explode in my mouth. “Oh my god.”
“Your Uncle Eli is a pretty good cook, huh?”
“Uh-huh.”
We sit in silence for a while, with the only sounds in the room coming from me as Daddy feeds me bite after delicious bite.
After I’ve finished nearly half the plate, he sets it aside and hands me a child’s sippy cup decorated with cartoon characters.
“Drink some water, and then you can finish your dinner.”
“Can I have the frozen hot chocolate instead?”
Daddy pins me with a look that has my heart skipping a beat. “That’s for after dinner. Drink your water, Tabitha.”
His stern tone spurs me into action and I take the sippy cup from him and drink.
“Good girl.” Setting the cup aside, he picks up the plate again. “Now that you have some food in your tummy, can you tell Daddy why you were so upset earlier?”
I take another bite of pot roast, chewing slowly to give myself time to think. When I finally swallow, I force myself to breathe deep and give him what he wants—honesty.
“You lied to me,” I manage to whisper past the sudden tightness in my throat.
Daddy’s mouth turns down in a frown. “When did I lie, baby?”
“When you told me about the wedding ceremony. You made it sound like once we said our vows, that would be it. But it wasn’t and you lied and you promised me you’d never lie.”
Understanding lights Daddy’s eyes, followed by something that could almost be sorrow.
“I’m sorry. You’re right, I deliberately left out the last part because I was worried you’d spend the whole ceremony panicking over it.
I thought I was doing what was best for you at the time, but I’m sorry it upset you. ”
“Not sorry you lied, though.”
“Sometimes Daddies need to do what they think is best for their Little ones, even if it means keeping things a secret for a little while. So no, I’m not sorry that I made what I felt was the right call at the time, but I am sorry I hurt you. I never want to hurt you if I can help it.”
“Unless you’re spanking me.” My tone is sulky, and he’ll probably spank me for being a brat, but I’m still kind of mad at him for not being honest with me.
To my surprise, however, Daddy just laughs.
“That’s different and you know it. Spankings and other punishments are meant to hurt so Little girls learn the rules and don’t get themselves in the kind of trouble that could really harm them.
But your heart?” He taps lightly on my chest. “I never ever want to hurt that.”
I don’t believe him. Not fully. But I want to, so badly it’s an ache deep in my chest.
So even though I don’t actually believe a word he says, I meet his gaze and nod. “Okay, Daddy.”