Tabitha
I don’t remember falling asleep. But when I open my eyes, I’m in my crib, covered in a blanket.
Sitting up, I wince at the flash of pain when my diapered bottom presses against my mattress. Whether it’s from the paddle or Daddy’s cock, I’m not sure. Probably some combination of both.
“Daddy?”
“Right here, baby.”
Appearing from the shadows, Daddy plucks me out of the crib and settles me on his hip. “Did you have a good nap, little one?”
“I dunno.”
As the events of the morning play over and over again in my mind, doubt and worry creeps in, a dark stain over my memories. I don’t even realize I’m crying until Daddy wipes the tears from my face.
“Hey. What’s all this? What’s wrong, baby?”
Instead of an explanation, all that bursts out of me is a sob.
“Tabby? What’s wrong, baby? Tell Daddy what’s wrong.”
But I can’t. I’m crying too hard to form thoughts, nonetheless words.
“Fuck,” Daddy mutters, and then we’re moving, hurrying down the hall and the stairs to a room I’ve never seen before.
“Ford, something’s wrong with Tabby.” There’s a frantic edge to Daddy’s voice that only makes me cry harder. “I think she might be sick.”
“Put her on the table there and let me wash up. Take her diaper off so I can check her temperature.”
Daddy tries to lower me to the table, but the thought of being separate from him has panic digging into my lungs and I cling to him for all I’m worth.
“She won’t let go. You’re going to have to do it.”
“I don’t think she’s sick, Colt. I think she’s having a panic attack.”
“Shit. You might be right.” The world moves and I realize Daddy’s rocking me gently from side to side. “Shhh, little one. You’re okay. You’re safe. Daddy’s right here. Can you breathe for me, baby? Like we did before?”
I want to. I want to be Daddy’s good girl and do everything he asks of me, but I can’t. My lungs have completely frozen and no matter how hard I try, I can’t breathe in.
Then something cold settles on the back of my neck and the shock of it has me sucking in a deep breath. As if by magic, the claws of panic digging into my chest loosen and I breathe out, focusing on Daddy’s voice, trying to match my breathing to his.
“There we go,” Daddy murmurs, pressing a kiss to my hair. “You did so good for me, little firecracker. Can you give me one morebigbreath, baby?”
I do as I’m told, holding the air in my lungs for a count of four before slowly blowing it out again. And as I do, embarrassment sneaks in, joining guilt and shame in a nauseating emotional cocktail.
With a whimper, I curl into Daddy. “I’m sorry,” I whisper.
“You never have to apologize for your emotions, baby. But can you tell Daddy what happened?”
“I don’t know. I was thinking about this morning and then there were all these emotions and I just sorta freaked out, I guess.”
“Poor baby. What kind of emotions?”
“The yucky kind. The kind that make me feel like I’m a horrible person and everyone probably hates me now.”
“I see. Well, we should see what we can do about those yucky thoughts.”
Again I’m airborne, and too late I realize he’s carrying me to the living room. As soon as we enter, Josie and Lanie jump to their feet with a happy cry, rushing over to crowd me and Daddy.
