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“For Daddy to take a bath with his Little girl. We’ll do that sometime when it’s not the middle of the night and I need to get you back to sleep.”
“Okay,” she agreed, drawing a fingertip through the water. “I’d like that.”
“I would too, Cricket.”
He scooped up her curls before they got wet and piled her hair into a messy bun on her head. Someday he’d very much enjoy washing her hair, but that would also have to wait. There was so much of it that it would take a long time to dry properly, and getting his love bug back in her crib as soon as possible was the name of the game at this moment.
Once he was confident her hair would stay put, he took one of the bath towels and pushed it under the water.
“Daddy! How am I supposed to dry off now?”
Her voice had that sweet, soft, Little quality that pushed all his Daddy buttons.
“I brought more than one, silly girl,” he told her, fishing the drenched towel out. “It would be very silly for Daddy to dry you with a wet towel, huh?”
“Yes, Daddy. That would not work.”
It was so goddamn adorable how serious she was.
“But a wet towel does do a really good job of keeping my babygirl’s top half warm while we wait for the tub to fill up.”
“Oh!” she exclaimed when he draped the heavy, soaked towel over her shoulders, and then beamed at him. “You’re right, Daddy. That feels really nice. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Cricket.”
* * *
Once Daddy had soaped her up and rinsed her off, she was feeling all warm and sleepy again.
“Okay, babygirl, time to get out of the tub.”
He probably noticed she was opening her mouth to protest—she liked being in the bath.
“We’ll take many, many more baths in the future,” he assured her. “And I promise most of them will be longer. Daddy will join you sometimes, and you can have toys and bubbles. But tonight, it’s time to go back to bed.”
She thought about registering her protest with at least a frown, but yawned instead. Oopsies. Maybe Daddy was right.
Cricket let her Daddy help her out of the tub and enjoyed how carefully and thoroughly he dried her off. Her earlier embarrassment was almost forgotten but surfaced with a vengeance when he brought her back to the nursery and steered her over to the changing table.
Of course she’d noticed it, wondered about it. But her Daddy hadn’t mentioned it or put her on it. Until now.
“Come on, babygirl. Up you get.”
“But Daddy—”
“Are you my sweet babygirl, Cricket?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
Of course she was. Cricket knew she was a lot of other things too but lately and especially in this moment, being Daddy’s babygirl was at the forefront of her identity.
“Daddy’s babygirl wears diapers. You were really embarrassed when you wet the bed, even though you don’t need to be. If you’re wearing a diaper and and don’t wake up to use the potty, it won’t matter. Now do as you’re told. Daddy knows best.”
Her cheeks so hot they felt as though they were on fire, Cricket went and stood in front of the changing table. Daddy put his hands on her hips and helped her hop up onto the padded surface and then cradled the back of her head and slipped an arm under her knees to lay her down. As if that wasn’t enough to make her squirm, he buckled a strap over her waist like she might roll off. She was such a slut for bondage.
“That’s my good girl. That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
“No, Daddy.”
