My second full day on the island is far different from my first. We spend the day inside, me in my playpen, coloring and playing with toys obviously geared for a toddler that somehow still manage to be entertaining, while Daddy works.
It should be boring, but instead the scene is soothing. As though I can simply let go of all the worries of the outside world. Rent? Whatâs that? Groceries? Bills?
Those are all Daddyâs job for the next month. My only job is to play the part of his Little girl. Which, as long as I donât have to go back to Doctor D or the spa, shouldnât be all that bad.
I do feel a prick of guilt as I wonder what my friends back home are doing. Daddy said he had someone email on my behalf after I fell asleep on the plane, but I canât help but wonder if they bought it. Have they emailed me back? Are they waiting for a response? Will they be worried about me when I donât respond?
Because I have a sneaking suspicion that asking to check my email will only end up with me over Daddyâs knee, I try to ignore the guilt and focus on my toys instead.
Unfortunately, my efforts to avoid a spanking prove to be in vain a few hours later when Daddy tells me itâs time for a nap. I refuse, telling him Iâm too old for naps, and my defiance earns me a long, hard spanking after which I promptly cry myself to sleep in my playpen.
Apparently, Iâm not too old for naps, after all.
Iâm awoken later by the sound of Daddyâs voice, telling me itâs time to get up. That he has a special surprise planned for me tonight.
âThereâs my pretty girl,â he says when I begrudgingly open my eyes. âDid you have a good nap, little one?â
âUh-huh.â Rubbing at my tired eyes, I push myself up and look around. âWhat time is it?â
âTime for sweet little girls to get a bath so they can be nice and clean for our guests. Up you go.â
In that effortless way he has, he scoops me up out of the playpen and carries me up the stairs to my nursery. Sleep clings to me, fogging my mind and making it difficult for me to really process his words. âI already had a bath, Daddy.â
âI know, but tonight is a special occasion.â
Thereâs a hint of excitement in his tone, and it chases away the dredges of sleep. âWhatâs tonight?â
In the bathroom, he strips me down and places me on the toilet. After repeating this same ritual multiple times over the past forty-eight hours, itâs almost stopped being embarrassing.
Almost, but not entirely.
While I pee, he runs the bath water, shrugging off his suit jacket and rolling up his sleeves so he can check the temperature without getting too wet. The sight of his toned forearms makes my naughty bits feel funny, but I try to ignore that feeling and focus on his words. âTonight, all your Uncles and your Auntie Cat are coming to see you. Think of it as a welcome home party, of sorts.â
âPresents?â I ask, sitting up straighter and wiggling a bit on the potty. âA party means presents.â
Daddy laughs, not the way he does when heâs about to do something really embarrassing, but a happy laugh that makes my stomach dance in response. âYes, little one, there will be presents. And I expect you to be gracious, even if something isnât to your liking. I will not hesitate to spank you in front of our guests if you are rude or naughty in any way.â
âIâll be a good girl,â I assure him as he wipes me clean and lifts me from the toilet to place me in the tub. âWill there be cake and ice cream?â
âAfter dinner.â
Just like before, he washes every bit of me while I play with my toys. It doesnât escape my notice that there are now pirates to go with my mermaids, and I take great joy in sending the pirates to a watery grave, which earns me another one of those happy laughs from Daddy.
He spends extra time cleaning my kitty and inside my bottom, which leaves me feeling both embarrassed and needy as he carries me to the changing table. Both of those feelings are significantly heightened when he holds my legs in the air and squirts something cold onto my bottom hole.
âDaddy is just putting something in your bottom to help you remember to be a good girl tonight. It wonât hurt, but you will feel it when you sit down.â
âI donât want anything in my bottom, Daddy,â I whine, wiggling against his hold even though I know it wonât change the outcome. Once again Iâm strapped to the table, unable to escape even if I did somehow manage to shake him loose.
âThatâs not for you to decide, Victoria. Itâs Daddyâs job to decide when his Little girl needs her bottom plugged.â
Plugged. Thereâs that word again, the one Doctor D used yesterday. Iâm still not sure what it means, but Iâm very sure I wonât like it.
And when something hard presses against my bottom hole, Iâm even more sure Iâm not going to like it. The thing is much bigger than Daddyâs finger or anything else heâs put in my bottom, and I canât help but whine as it stretches me open wide with a bite of pain.
âDaddy, no! Itâs too big!â
âNonsense, little one. Your bottom was made to take this, just like it was made to take Daddyâs cock eventually. We need to get you used to having your bottom stretched, though, so it doesnât hurt as much when you finally take me there.â
Iâve already had him in my mouth, so I know for a fact heâs much bigger than the thing heâs currently working into my bottom. Bigger, in fact, than the few men Iâve been with before him.
Too big, for certain, to fitâ¦there.
But I have a feeling that just like everything else up to this point, I wonât have a choice. Why that should thrill me as much as it terrifies me, I donât know, but thereâs no denying the fluttering in my tummy or the pulse in my naughty girl bits at the thought of being held down and forced to take my Daddyâs cock in my bottom.
For now, the more pressing concern is the plug. It hurts, and I make my discomfort known by whining loudly as it forces my bottom open more and more.
Just when it seems like the thing might split me in two, it slides into place and my muscles close around it. Sniffling back tears, I squeeze my bottom cheeks, wincing at the flash of pain that comes with the movement.
âThere we go. A cute little jewel for a cute little bottom.â
âI donât like it. Take it out.â
My tone is more demanding than I meant for it to be, and it earns me a sharp look from Daddy. âVictoria. Do you need a spanking before Daddy puts your diaper on?â
âNo!â
âThen I suggest you drop the attitude right now, little girl.â
Because his tone clearly says Iâm skating on thin ice, I sniffle pitifully as I nod. âYes, Daddy.â
âGood girl.â
As always, his praise makes me feel all warm and gooey inside, for reasons I canât really explain. But it helps me feel a little less embarrassed as he puts my diaper on me and carries me into the closet.
âWhat dress would you like to wear tonight, little one?â He drops his voice to a whisper, as though we arenât the only two people in hearing distance. âAuntie Cat would be absolutely thrilled if you wore one of the outfits she picked out for you.â
Which means all of my princess dresses are fair game. Feeling smug, I point to the poofy blue and silver dress from my all-time favorite movie. âThat one, please.â
âThose are for playing dress up, little thief. Pick something else.â
But I donât want something else. I want to be a princess. After all, itâs my party, isnât it? âNo. I wanna wear that one.â
âVictoria.â
My name is a warning. One I refuse to heed, and my heart hammers against my ribcage as I look up at him, tilting my chin defiantly. âYou said to pick something Auntie Cat bought me, and she bought me this dress.â
Seconds tick by, silent and tense, and Iâm convinced Iâm about to go over Daddyâs knee for another spanking when he sighs. âYouâre right. I did tell you to pick one of the dresses Auntie Cat bought you. So if you want to be a princess tonight, you can be a princess tonight.â
âThank you, Daddy!â Wrapping my arms around his neck, I press a loud kiss to his cheek.
âYouâre welcome, little one. Come. Letâs get you dressed.â
Maxwell
Although it isnât the dress I would have chosen, I have to admit Victoria looks absolutely darling in her princess dress as we make our way downstairs to greet our guests. Itâs just as short as her other dresses, though a bit fuller in the skirt, and her diapered bottom can just be seen beneath the layers of fabric, much to my delight.
Catharina and Jasper are already in the parlor, Jasper sipping his whiskey and laughing at some outrageous story of Catâs as she tells the tale with the sweeping hand gestures sheâs well known for. Jasper sees us first, and even from a distance I can see his eyes light with excitement at the sight of Victoria. When he rises from the couch, Catharina pauses her story to look over, her face lighting up with pure joy.
âThereâs my sweet little niece! Oh, and donât you just look darling in your princess dress! Doesnât she look just like a real-life princess, Jasper?â
âShe does.â
Seemingly enraptured, Jasper takes a knee in front of my Little girl, who is now pressing herself against me so tightly I have to wonder if sheâs trying to climb inside me. Itâs a feeling I savor, knowing my Little girl wants me above all others. Even her Auntie Cat.
âHello, precious. Iâm your Uncle Jasper.â
I wait, giving Victoria a chance to introduce herself, but she simply watches Jasper with a kind of guarded wonder.
âSay hello, Victoria,â I prod gently, running a hand over her hair. âUncle Jasper has been looking forward to meeting you for quite some time.â
âHello.â Her voice is soft, so quiet itâs difficult to hear, but Jasper grins in response.
âSuch a sweet little thing, isnât she? Cat, could you grab the present I put on the table there? I think our little princess needs my gift sooner rather than later.â
Curious, I watch as Catharina passes a small package off to Jasper, who holds it out to Victoria. âHere you go, Tori. You can open it now, if you like.â
Victoria looks up at me, and my heart swells with pride that she knows to ask her Daddyâs permission first. âItâs all right, little one.â
Beaming with excitement, she tears into the package, shredding the wrapping paper to reveal a plain white box. The store name, Little Treasures Boutique, is stamped in regal script across the top of the box.
âDaddy, open it!â Victoria demands, holding the box up for me to take.
As cute as she is, standing there with her cheeks flushed with excitement, I canât let her rudeness slide. Especially not in front of our guests, who are watching with a much more wicked sort of excitement on their own faces.
Taking the box from her, I tuck it under my arm and reach for her, spinning her around to land a flurry of spanks to her bottom. The diaper cushions the blows significantly, but you wouldnât be able to tell that from the way she dances and howls in response.
âIs that how good Little girls ask for something, Victoria Rose?â I scold as I spank her.
âNo, Daddy! Iâm sorry!â
I end the spanking with two sharp swats to the tops of her thighs. Both to drive the point home and because the embarrassment of walking around with her Daddyâs handprints on her thighs for everyone to see should help my Little girl remember her manners. âApologize to Auntie Cat and Uncle Jasper for being so rude in front of them.â
Sniffling adorably, she rubs at her eyes with one hand while the other rubs at her diaper. âIâm sorry I was rude, Auntie Cat and Uncle Jasper.â
âItâs all right, sweet girl.â With a mischievous grin, Cat winks. âSometimes your Daddy could stand to have people be a little rude to him.â
âI cannot wait for you to get your own Little girl,â I grumble as I pull the box out from under my arm and carefully peel back the sticker holding it shut.
Inside is a stunning tiara, studded with gems that match Victoriaâs dress so perfectly, I would have suspected them of conspiring together if I hadnât known any better.
âLook, little one. A crown fit for a princess.â
âOh!â Eyes wide, Victoria presses her hands to her flushed cheeks. âCan I wear it, Daddy? Please?â
âOf course you can, little one.â
At the crook of my finger, a maid hurries over to help me pin the tiara into Victoriaâs bouncy curls. My Little one is almost as bouncy, hopping from foot to foot as we finish securing the headpiece.
âI wanna see! I wanna see!â she squeals excitedly.
Scooping her up in his arms, Jasper carries her over to the fireplace, holding her high so she can see her reflection in the gilded mirror hung over the brick. âWhat a beautiful princess you make, sweet little Tori.â
Irritation pricks at the base of my skull. Iâve never been a fan of nicknames, but I donât have the heart to correct him, not when Victoria is staring at her reflection with such wonder.
Whatever they call her, she is breathtaking. And all mine.