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Chapter Nineteen
Saoirse had been so worn out when they’d gotten home from Eric’s that Arthur had to carry her in from the car, and put her down for a nap in the crib. She’d barely stirred as he did and fell immediately asleep once he’d given her Ziggy and tucked her in beneath the blanket with her rainbow unicorn stuffie.
After he’d gotten himself something to eat, Arthur grabbed his laptop from the library and brought it upstairs so he would be there when she woke. It would likely be a good few hours before she was up, and he took the time to catch up on work emails and to send his partners a message.
Given the information he had now, he’d made a decision and they weren’t going to like it. Hell, he wasn’t going to enjoy telling them but they needed to know as soon as possible so he’d bite the bullet and get it over with first thing tomorrow morning.
It was nearly dinner time when Saoirse finally woke and he could tell right away she was crabby. Likely from low blood sugar, dehydration, and lingering sleepiness—those were always his first thoughts when he had a grumpy little on his hands.
She sat up in her crib and rubbed her eyes, frowning. Didn’t even smile when he approached.
“I don’t want to be in here,” she said, wrapping her fingers around the wooden bars and pushing at them. “Get me out.”
“I understand you’re still waking up and you’re irritable, but you need to watch your tone, young lady. Given how often you’ve been turned over my knee in the past couple of days, I wouldn’t think you’d want your attitude adjusted with a spanking.”
Saoirse didn’t reply but her demeanor didn’t get any less grumpy either. Well, he wouldn’t push it, not today. Littles weren’t known for emotional regulation and she’d had a big eighteen hours. Had it only been that long since she’d agreed to be his? It seemed like it had been forever.
“Let’s get you changed and then fed. I think you’ll feel a lot better after that.”
Arthur picked her up and set her on the changing table. He’d gathered up what he’d need during her long nap so at least she wouldn’t have to gather any patience to deal with that delay. He took her dress and bra off while she was sitting up and then helped her lie back so he could peel her panties down her legs. She wouldn’t be needing those again anytime soon.
He’d known what Eric was going to prescribe since they’d discussed it the night before, but still the words echoed through his head like a revelation. He couldn’t wait to have his little girl at his mercy and so dependent on him. Though he’d respect her limits if she safeworded, he hoped she wouldn’t. Hoped she’d hand herself over to him completely. For both their sakes.
He wouldn’t usually use the stirrups for a quick diaper change but he also knew Saoirse liked bondage and being bound would help her get into a headspace where it was easier to accept being diapered so he buckled her in as he had that morning.
That done, he took up a diaper and urged her to raise her hips so he could slip it under her bottom. Her backside that was mottled shades of red and pink and black and blue. Surely she’d need less discipline over time but for now, he relished the color on her cheeks and he thought she did as well, given how she shifted on the table.
Arthur made quick work of wrapping her up and fastening the tabs on the diaper and then shook out a light purple cover that had straps at the waist and thighs that would prevent his princess from tampering with her diaper. After releasing her feet from he stirrups, he slipped the covering on and tightened the straps until they were snug around her, and placed the magnetic locks that only he had the key for. Of course there were extras in a few places throughout the house lest one get lost but she didn’t need to know that, not now. He wouldn’t be leaving her alone anytime soon.
Saoirse had been watching him closely while he diapered her but hadn’t commented. Perhaps she was waking up more and wasn’t so sleep-grumpy. He took out some knit stockings to slide up to her thighs too since it was a little chilly and he didn’t want her to be cold. Plus they had the sweetest purple velvet bows on the front and would match the dress he’d picked out for her.
He helped her to sit up and loved the way she looked in her diaper and stockings. She’d be even more darling once he was finished with her.
He’d picked out a light purple dress that he held up to her now, loving how soft she looked.
“Arms up, princess,” he instructed, tugging the soft stretchy fabric over her head and arms.
It was a very short dress, barely a shirt, really, which meant it would skim her bottom and he’d be able to see her diaper cover at all times. Which was at once deeply gratifying but also distracting as all hell.
“There you go. You look so pretty, little girl.”
Saoirse flushed at the compliment and ducked her head, mumbling a “thank you, Daddy,” and kicking her feet. Which reminded him of the other things he needed to add to her outfit.
A pair of soft purple booties that he pulled onto her feet and fastened, noticing the way her brows creased when he did.
“Daddy, there’s something in my shoes. Can you take them off and shake them out, please?”
She was adorable, his sweet peach of a babygirl.
“That was very nice asking, and there is something in them, but it’s supposed to be there. There are small metal balls stitched into the soles so if you crawl or you’re carried you’ll be fine because that’s what little girls are supposed to do. But if you walk, it won’t feel good on your little feet.”
Saoirse’s mouth dropped open and it seemed as though she was trying to find words but nothing was coming out. That was fine. She could think about it while he put her mitts on.
“Also, they’re booties, not shoes. Little girls don’t need shoes unless they’re dressing up like a big girl, which you won’t be doing for a while yet. And these are your mitts that will also help remind you how good girls behave.”
As much as Arthur felt he knew Saoirse deeply, down to her very core because they understood each other on a fundamental level, there were a million details he needed to learn. Like what the expression on her face meant.
She was watching him as he fastened the cuffs around her wrists—snug so she wouldn’t be able to slip them off but not tight because he didn’t want to chance nerve damage, or for the fabric to chafe on her soft skin—and she was so calm that it almost concerned him. He’d think she’d have some reaction to being rendered so helpless. Whether aroused or nervous or angry or pleased didn’t matter so much as feelingsomething,and him knowing what that was.
