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Chapter Twenty
Cosima
After she’d finished her peaches, Papa called Daddy into the dining room and they conferred while she was still strapped into her high chair. Her heart pounded against her ribcage because what the hell had she been thinking?
Daddy and Papa weren’t Master—she would’ve never,everdared disobey Master like that—but she wanted to be a good girl, have them love her and dote on her and keep her.
But even as she had refused Papa until he’d forced spoonful after spoonful of that yucky chicken into her mouth by plugging her nose and waiting until she had to take a breath through her mouth, it had felt almost like a game?
There had been a glint in Ian’s bright green eyes that made it feel like he was enjoying the struggle. Maybe he liked to be a little rough with her? Which was…
Heavenly.
Cosima was so grateful that Hudson and Ian were so gentle with her. She loved the way they cuddled and carried and petted and spoiled her. It was a joy beyond what she could’ve ever imagined the way they loved on her and took care of her. And she didn’t miss Master. Not really. Well, maybe a little.
She knew he’d been cruel and vicious and abusive. She’d heard it a million times, seen it in the way the hospital staff had looked at her and talked about her injuries in appalled whispers. In the way that Daddy and Papa patiently but emphatically insisted he’d been a bad man and she deserved much better. But…
She missed the pain sometimes. Missed the way Master could light up her nerves and send her tumbling into climaxes that went on and on and on.
Daddy and Papa were clearly into kink although aside from the age play stuff she didn’t totally know what their interests were. Spankings were obviously on the table since they mentioned those often when talking about the rules she was expected to follow—or that she was breaking—but did they like anything else?
She loved being spanked but that wouldn’t satisfy forever. No, her masochistic streak was a mile wide.
Whereas Daddy and Papa were grooming her to be sweet and pliant, Master had trained her to take pain. More and more, heaps upon heaps, until she could take just about anything. To the point that she’d ceased to beg him to stop, and had stubbornly clung to her pride and her prized suffering, and he’d had to beat her senseless to feel victorious.
She would never, ever, push Daddy and Papa that far. Ever. But she did ache for someone to be rough with her. To hurt her. To give her that bittersweet pleasure.
Finally Daddy and Papa turned to face her, and took a few steps so that if her wrists weren’t bound, she’d be able to reach them. They looked very serious.
“Cosima.”
Oh, no. Just hearing her daddy say her whole name was jolting. Made her want to crawl under the table to hide and apologizeprofuselyso her stomach would stop twisting. Henevercalled her Cosima unless he was talking to other people about her. It was always Cosy and she liked it that way.
“Yes, Daddy?”
“Ian tells me you refused to eat part of your dinner. Is that true?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
This was so terrible she might puke. Hudson hadn’t hit her or threatened her or anything and she already felt worse about misbehaving than she had anytime Master had punished her.
“Papa and Doctor Eric and I put a lot of thought into your meals and other ways we take care of you. It’s really important to us that you be healthy and strong. Sometimes that means eating things you don’t like. I know that can be frustrating and unpleasant but we all truly want what’s best for you. We’ll always listen if you have questions or if you want to have a discussion about something you don’t like or makes you uncomfortable. You also have your safeword you can use anytime. But if you don’t, Papa and I expect you to obey.”
The pukey feeling had subsided somewhat but it had been replaced by the tight throat, prickly eyes, and burning sinuses that said she was going to be in tears any second.
Master had spent a lot of time shaming her, about everything. How she looked, how she talked, how she did a task—really, anything. But it had never cut quite so deep as her daddy’s gentle explanations.
Daddy and Papa worked so hard to take care of her. As far as she could tell, they didn’t do much else. And how had she repaid them? By being rude and insolent and difficult. Not to mention a month ago she would’ve been beyond grateful to eat chicken and sweet potatoes even if it was all mushed up.
“Yes, Daddy,” she whispered, because if she said it any louder she was gonna cry.
“I know we’ve talked about spanking you when you misbehave but we haven’t yet because you haven’t been healthy enough to be turned over a knee. Papa and I think you’re well enough now. Do you agree? Don’t lie because you want to get out of being punished, or if you’re not well enough but you want to be brave. That will earn you a bigger and more serious punishment than telling the truth.”
This was excruciating, and Cosima almost wished they would’ve just slapped her or humiliated her or done something else cruel. It would be easier to take than this. She’d also hoped the first time she got spanked would be for fun—apparently that was a thing? Daddy had told her that was a thing—and not for being disobedient. Well, she’d messed that up.
“I agree that I’m healthy enough to be spanked, Daddy.”
There were some areas that still hurt and probably would for a long time, but her bottom wasn’t one of those.
