Unlike a standard nursery, however, all of the furniture here is more than large enough to accommodate me. A fact that is confirmed when Daddy lays me down on a springy mattress atop a tall table.
As he peels the soaked cotton from me, a smile curves his lips. “I had planned on making you wait until we got home for your pleasure. But you were such a good girl, wetting your diaper for Daddy.” He pulls a wet wipe free from a package on the table and rubs it over my pussy, strumming his thumb over my clit in the process. A shock of pleasure courses through my veins, surprising a gasp from me as I arch up on the table. “And I think my very good girl deserves a reward. Don’t you, little firecracker?”
Somehow, admitting I want him to touch me fills me with even more shame than peeing in a diaper did. I want to refuse him, to deny him the pleasure of humiliating me even further than he already has.
But with every deliberate, too-light touch of his finger to my clit, desperation wells inside me, until it finally smothers even that flicker of defiance.
“Daddy asked you a question, little girl.” Leaning over me so we’re nearly nose to nose, he drops his voice to a low growl. “Do you want Daddy to make you come? Or would you rather spend the rest of the flight being brought to the edge of release over and over with no relief in sight?”
If my own needs hadn’t already snuffed out my desire to fight him, those words definitely would have done the trick. “Yes, Daddy,” I whisper, my voice thick with tears of frustration, humiliation, and other emotions I can’t name.
His finger slides inside me, stoking the fires of my need as his smile widens. “You’re going to need to use your big girl words, baby. Tell Daddyexactlywhat you want.”
Oh, god. Not this again. It’s not enough for him to so thoroughly debase me, he needs to once again make me complicit in my own shameful corruption?
My tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth, not out of any act of defiance, but out of sheer horror. I can’t possibly say the words he’s demanding of me.
But I already know I will. I’ve done it once, proving even my own dread isn’t strong enough to resist the need he’s forcing on me with such insistence.
And sure enough, every movement of his finger inside me, every touch of his thumb against my swollen clit breaks down my resistance. Until, at last, he rips the words from me on a sob.
“I want to come! Please, Daddy, please let me come!”
“That’s my good girl,” he growls, the sound sending shockwaves of need rippling through my quivering body. “Come for Daddy, little firecracker. Let me hear you scream for me.”
Like the good girl I am, I do exactly that, the echoes of my pleasure bouncing off the walls as something inside me snaps and molten hot lava pours through my veins.
“My good, sweet little baby. Daddy’s so proud of you.” Pulling his fingers from me, he lifts them to his lips, his gaze never leaving my face as he sucks my juices from his skin. I watch, my heart still threatening to beat straight out of my chest, as he licks himself clean with a soft hum of pleasure. “Let’s get a fresh diaper on you and Daddy will snuggle you until we’re ready to land.”
I don’t bother to protest as he wraps me in fresh, soft cotton and lifts me into his arms. And when he sits again, cradling me on his lap, I let my eyes close, let myself drift on this seaof contentment as I do my best to try and pretend I’m not the world’s biggest coward.
Colt
Tabitha sleeps the rest of the plane ride and most of the car ride back to our cabin. And though I hate to disturb her, I know for a fact that the second we step through the front door of her new home we’ll be surrounded by noise and chaos and demands.
“Time to wake up, little one,” I murmur as I gently shake her shoulder.
Her adorable nose crinkles up, and she burrows deeper into my embrace with a soft whine of protest.
Fucking hell, she is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.
But as tempting as it is to simply let her sleep, I don’t want the shock of meeting my loud, boisterous family to overwhelm her, so I need her to wake up now so she has some time to brace herself for what’s coming.
“Tabby. You need to wake up, baby.”
“Don’ wanna.”
I can’t help but chuckle at how sulky she sounds. Exactly like a child being roused from a nap before she’s ready. “Too bad, little one. Be a good girl and sit up for Daddy.”
She doesn’t immediately comply, which I’ll admit surprises me a bit. From everything I’ve seen from her this morning, she is desperate to be a good girl, to stay out of trouble. Even heracts of defiance were, I’ve come to realize, driven more by fear of speaking up for herself than a desire to actually disobey me.
Perhaps she’s getting used to me, or perhaps she’s just too sleepy to realize she’s being defiant. Either way, the end result is the same and she keeps her eyes firmly shut.
“Tabitha Grace.” I put an extra bit of steel behind my words. “If you don’t listen to Daddy and wake up, I’m going to have to get mean.”
Still nothing. A spanking would wake her up, but the backseat of the car we’re in isn’t really spacious enough to put her over my knee.
There are plenty of other ways to wake a sleepy Little girl, however.
