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Oh, and glitter.
So much glitter.
But he’d also bought things for her Big. Like Big girl toys, some they’d yet to use but she was excited for, and lingerie. Mostly roleplay costumes, like a naughty schoolgirl and a sexy maid, but also some cute bra and panty sets. It seemed he liked dresses and skirts a lot, though, since that’s mostly what he bought for her Big and Little.
She pulled Jett’s giant t-shirt over her head as a makeshift smock to protect her pretty dress, and gathered her supplies in her arms before making her way across the house to the dining table. Dropping everything on it, she slid onto the chair on her knees, hovering over the giant paper as she began sketching with a pencil. She already had the image in her head, and it slowly came to life in front of her.
She was so zoned out, she didn’t hear Jett set her juice beside her, or feel when he pressed a kiss to her head again. Her tongue poked between her lips as she sketched, erased, then re-sketched. Ottie was smashed between her body and the table as she re-angled the paper, drawing from a new direction.
The more she drew, the more she felt herself slip into Little space. It always happened like this—she was so relaxed, so focused while drawing that her Little peeked out. Everything melted away, and all that was left was the paper in front of her and the pencil in her hand.
“Almost ready for dinner, pretty girl?” Daddy asked as he stepped behind her, his hand resting on her back. She cried out, throwing herself over the paper.
“No looking!” she shouted. “Issa surprise!”
Had he seen it already? Oh no. Why didn’t she draw somewhere else where he couldn’t see it?
“Alright, baby,” he soothed. “Why don’t you pick it up and hide it so I can’t see?” Oh, she could do that. She could hide it. She was the best hider ever.
“Close your eyes,” she told him, keeping a close watch to make sure he did as she asked. To her amusement, the big guy shut them, but she knew he was still aware of everything.
Jumping off her chair, she stopped when she ran straight into his chest. “No running in socks,” he scolded. “You’ll slip and hurt yourself.”
Yeah right. No, she wouldn’t.
She raced across the house, sliding along the hardwood floor into the bedroom. Putting the paper in a safe place, she darted back out of the room. She slid along the floor again. She really liked doing that.
Again!
She had to do it again!
Bracing her hands on the wall, she glanced around, finding Daddy in the kitchen. Now was her last chance to get any more sliding in, so she took it. She pushed off the wall, running as fast as she could down the hallway. Planting her feet on the floor, she soared into the bedroom, a squeal of delighted laughter flying from her lips.
Turning, she raced back out of the room. Only this time, instead of there being a clear space, the chair Daddy must’ve pulled out was in her way. She crashed into it, flying over the seat onto the other side, landing heavily on her hands and knees.
She screamed as pain shot up her arms, her knees scraping along the unforgiving wood. “Daddy!” she cried. “Daddy!”
His thunderous footsteps raced toward her, and he scooped her into his arms effortlessly, holding her closely to his chest as he took her to the couch. “Shh, baby. It’s okay. I’m here. Daddy’s here. It’s okay. You’re okay.”
She was sniffling so hard, she couldn’t breathe, and tears wouldn’t stop leaking from her eyes. “H-h-hurts!” she wailed. He tugged her socks down and inspected her knees, gently prodding at them.
“You might have some bruises tomorrow,” he muttered. “Does anything feel broken?”
“Everything!” she cried, throwing her head back. His arm around her waist stiffened, making sure he kept her upright. “Everything feels broken! It all hurts!”
“I’m sorry, pretty girl,” he soothed. “How about some ice?” She nodded pitifully.
“I think ice cream would be better,” she mumbled, wiping at her face with her hands.
“It’ll get your skin all sticky,” he said, lifting her and holding her against his chest as he made his way back to the kitchen.
“It’s to eat. Silly Daddy.” She tapped his forehead as she sniffled again.
“Why would you need to eat ice cream?” he asked, setting her on the counter. Her bottom lip rolled out.
“I hurt myself, Daddy. Everyone knows you’re ‘posed to have ice cream if you hurt yourself.” He nodded, understanding filling his face. Good. She was glad he was finally understanding. See? If he listened to her more often, she could teach him all kinds of things.
“I think that only counts if Little girls listen to their Daddy when he says no running in socks,” he said firmly, tapping her nose.
