Melody’s Daddy (Littleworld #2)

Chapter 1

Chapter One

“Melody!”

I cringe as I hear Daddy call my name in that tone that tells me I’m in trouble. “Coming, Daddy,” I call as cheerfully as I can from the back of the house where I’ve been sitting at my computer, scrolling through social media when I should have been writing.

I shove my pink swivel chair back from the desk and run down the hallway, not stopping until I reach the living room where Daddy is standing between the sofa and the coffee table. His head is cocked to one side, and he does not look pleased.

He points at the floor and the coffee table. “How many times have I told you to put your Barbies away after you’re done playing with them?”

I wince. “Sorry, Daddy.” I rush to where he’s standing and kneel down to pick up all the little shoes and clothes scattered on the floor where they fell from the coffee table. I carefully put them all in the clear plastic container they came out of, the one Daddy bought me so I could get organized.

He doesn’t move while I clean up. In fact, he reaches for the television remote and turns on the TV without sitting.

When I hear the sound of cartoons coming from the flat screen, I cringe and hurry to put the lid back on the container. I slowly lift my gaze to find him staring down at me. He turns the TV back off and sets the remote calmly on the coffee table.

“Sorry, Daddy,” I murmur yet again, knowing I’m in even bigger trouble now.

“What did I tell you to do today while I was at work?”

“Clean my bedroom and work on my research.”

“Is your bedroom clean?”

“No, Sir.” I lower my gaze. That part I actually forgot about.

“Did you have permission to play with Barbies or watch cartoons?”

“No, Sir.” I sink down so I’m sitting on my ankles. It wasn’t particularly smart of me to leave the TV on the cartoon channel when I turned it off. I should have put it back on the news channel Daddy had been watching that morning.

He holds out a hand.

I know what he wants, so I hand him the container of Barbies. Who knows when I might get them back? Probably not any time soon. “Let’s go.” He nods over his shoulder, and I push to standing to follow him begrudgingly down the hallway.

Daddy stops at the hall closet and pulls out a trash bag.

I swallow as we enter my bedroom. Tears start to fall that aren’t fake when Daddy hands me the trash bag. He’s still perfectly calm. He’s always calm. Even when he’s mad, he’s calm.

He crosses my bedroom, which isn’t easy since it’s littered with toys and clothes. When he reaches the rocking chair in the corner, he pushes my jammies from last night onto the floor and takes a seat. Leaning back, he crosses his legs and strokes his chin.

I’m not sure I’ve seen him quite this upset before, and by that, I mean, this eerily calm.

“Put everything on the floor in the bag, Melody.”

“Daddy?” I’m nervous. He’s never asked me to do something like this before. Is he going to throw away all my things?

He lifts a brow. “When you’re done, I’m going to spank you. After that, you’re going to stand in timeout for the rest of the evening. If you’d like to be permitted to eat dinner before bedtime, I suggest you get moving. You have five minutes to fill that bag.”

I suck in a breath and start running around the room.

I hold the bag open and shove practically everything I own into it.

That’s how messy my room is. Dolls and blocks and coloring books and markers and Legos and dress-up clothes.

A lot of my regular clothes go into the bag too.

Shoes and dresses and panties and jammies.

I wince as I put my favorite stuffed animals inside, including my monkey. In fact, I leave her for last and glance at Daddy. He’s got one brow lifted again and points at the bag.

My hands are shaking as I finish and hand him the black plastic trash bag. Daddy adds the box of Barbies to the bag and sets it aside. “Did you do any work today, Little one?”

I lick my lips. “I tried, Daddy. I couldn’t focus.”

He draws in a breath. “I know it’s summer vacation for you, baby girl, but you’re supposed to be working on your thesis.

You were the one who told me you needed structure and guidance to get it done.

You’ve finished all your classroom work.

You’re on the home stretch. But you won’t get your master’s degree if you don’t finish your thesis, will you? ”

“No, Daddy.” I rock forward and backward on my feet. “Are you going to throw my toys away?”

“No. I’m going to lock them in the closet. You’ll have to earn them back. When you learn to keep your room clean and treat your things better, I’ll slowly give them back to you.”

That’s a relief, I guess. I lower my gaze.

“Go into the bathroom. Remove your clothes. Put them in the hamper. And then come back.”

My heart rate picks up as I hesitate only a moment before turning around and walking across the hall. I’m shaking as I pull my pink T-shirt off and drop it in the hamper, followed by my purple leggings and panties. I’m not wearing a bra. I’m not permitted to in the house. My feet are bare too.

I return to Daddy feeling naked, not just physically but emotionally. Vulnerable, I guess.

“Hands at your sides, Little one.”

I have them clasped in front of me, but at his demand, I drop them to my sides.

“You haven’t been shaving often enough, baby girl.”

I flinch. Daddy has told me multiple times I either have to shave my pussy every other day or have him do it. I’ve done neither for over a week. It’s amazing he can see my pubic hair from there since I’m so blond, but he does.

I’ve been unfocused for a month now, ever since classes ended. After years of schooling, I’m finally done, except for the small detail of my thesis. Minor detail. It’s nothing really. Just months of research and a paper to write.

Daddy makes me stand in front of him naked like this for a while. He takes his time before speaking again. “Are you unhappy, Melody?”

I shiver, partly because I’m actually chilled. “No, Daddy,” I murmur.

“Are you sure? Because from my viewpoint, things aren’t going well. You’re defiant and deliberately disobedient, which leads me to believe either you’re no longer committed to our arrangement, or you’re crying out for me to be stricter with you.”

I swallow, my head tipped down, my gaze on my bare feet.

“Eyes on mine, Melody.”

I lift my gaze. He’s so imposing. So dominant. Everything about him screams Dom. He’s sitting here in his suit and tie, which he hasn’t even loosened since he got home. His body language is casual and relaxed as if he knows exactly what’s going to happen here while I have no clue.

He’s gripping his chin, his thumb under it, his pointer stroking his full lips. He’s been at work for eight hours, so he has a slight five-o’clock shadow, which only makes him look sexier. More commanding somehow.

My body betrays me, reacting to him the way it always does when he puts me in my place like this. My nipples are stiff points, and my pussy is swollen and wet.

He’s waiting for me to respond. I swallow. “I’m committed, Sir.”

He holds my gaze and nods. “Then it’s the latter?

Do you need more discipline? You’re misbehaving more every day.

I can only spank you so many times. It’s lost its effectiveness.

I’ve tried taking away your toys. I’ve tried making you write sentences.

I’ve tried leaving you in uncomfortable time outs.

And yet, you still defy me every chance you get. ”

A tear escapes, and I don’t want to wipe it away. I don’t have permission to lift my arms anyway. “I’m not sure, Daddy. I don’t want to be bad. It’s like I can’t stop myself.”

“You’re not bad, Melody. We’ve talked about this before. Please do not demean yourself that way. You’re misguided right now. That’s no reflection on your heart. You’re a good girl, Melody.”

“I can’t seem to focus,” I tell him. “It’s like I was stuck in the classroom and doing homework for so many years, now that I don’t have class all of the sudden, I don’t want to do anything.”

He narrows his gaze. I know he’s thinking about what I’ve said. “We’re going to have to make some changes if you’re truly committed to being my Little.”

I nod quickly. “I am, Daddy. I really am. I’ll do whatever you say.” I’m nervous because it hasn’t really occurred to me he could break up with me if I don’t pull myself together. He doesn’t like this naughty side of me. I know that, but I keep defying him anyway. Why am I pushing his buttons?

He lifts a brow. “We had an agreement. You made a commitment to me. We’ve been together three years, living together for two. You were very young when we met. You’re still young, Melody.”

“I’m twenty-five, Daddy. I’m not that young.”

He narrows his gaze. “Don’t interrupt me when I’m speaking, but to your point, you were twenty-two when we met.

Twenty-three when I asked you to live with me.

I’m thirty-eight, baby girl. That’s a thirteen-year gap.

Is it too much? Are you starting to wish you could run around with your peers and go to bars and dance and party? ”

I shake my head. “No, Sir.” I’m not lying. I’ve never regretted the commitment I made to Daddy. He’s my world. I partied some with my friends when I was younger, but I also knew I was Little from the moment I entered my first fetish party at nineteen.

I’m drawn to the lifestyle. It suits me. I love having someone else take care of me. I’m honestly not sure I could have finished the last two years of school if it weren’t for Daddy helping keep me in line and directing me.

He clears his throat. “Look me in the eye and tell me this is still what you want.”

I meet his gaze without hesitation. “I want to be your Little more than anything in the world, Daddy.”

“Will you do whatever I say is necessary to get back on track?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“No hesitation. No more of this defiance. I’m going to be very strict and unrelenting.”

I nod. “Yes, Sir.” A part of me is relieved. I can feel my shoulders lowering. I’ve gotten lazy and complacent. I know I can do better with the right guidance. I know Daddy can provide it.

“Come here, Little one.” He holds out a hand.

I go to him, rounding to one side as he guides me that direction. He takes my chin in his fingers and holds my head steady, inches from his. “I’m going to spank you now. It’s going to hurt. Afterward, you’re going to stand in the corner in the kitchen until I tell you to move.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Tomorrow, things are going to change. I suspect you’re not going to like it very much at first, but you’ll do as you’re told because you know in your heart Daddy knows what’s best for you.”

“Yes, Sir.” I try to keep my voice from wobbling, but I have to admit I’m nervous. He’s speaking as if he’s prepared this speech and whatever is going to happen tomorrow for a while. He didn’t come up with it on the spot.

He slides a hand up my back and helps me lean over his lap.

I clasp my hands behind my back, knowing he will hold my wrists together before he spanks me. I don’t squirm or fight him. I’ve been to this rodeo before, more often than I should lately.

I try to relax as he begins swatting my bottom. It’s not too difficult at first. It never is. But then he picks up the intensity, and I grit my teeth as my skin begins to burn. I know it will be red for several hours. My skin is very pale, so it doesn’t take much to pinken it.

When he’s done, he rubs my sore bottom for a few minutes before standing me on my feet. He steadies me with his hands on my hips and kisses my forehead. “Good girl. Go stand in the corner in the kitchen. You know the drill.”

“Yes, Sir.” I pad away from him and make my way to the same corner I’ve been using for timeouts for two years. Like spankings, I’ve done this more often than usual lately too. I lean my forehead against the drywall, clasp my hands behind my back, and spread my feet.

My bottom is on fire. And that’s the point. I must stop misbehaving. Apparently whatever Daddy has in mind for tomorrow is going to change things for me in a big way.

I shudder as my mind considers the possibilities.