Chapter 19: Daddy Devious: Chapter 18

I wake on a cloud. Well, I try to wake, anyway. The cloud is so soft and warm, that even the sunlight pricking my eyes isn’t enough to fully drag me out of my slumber. With a soft whimper, I turn my head away from the offensive light, curling into the warmth enveloping me.

The cloud vibrates beneath my cheek, pulling me further out of dreamland and into the real world, despite my best efforts. “Time to wake up, little thief.”

That voice. I know that voice.

Daddy.

My eyes fly open to find his piercing blue gaze, warmed by amusement, locked on me. “There you are. I thought you might sleep the morning away.”

“Wh—” My voice is scratchy, so I swallow hard to wash away the remnants of sleep. “Where am I?”

Not my crib, certainly. As large as it is, I doubt it would hold myself and Daddy.

“You’re in my bed.”

“Why?”

Something flickers across his face, but the emotion is gone far too quickly for me to place it. “Because that’s where Daddy put you. Do you need to potty, little one?”

Now that I’m a bit more awake, I am very aware of the pressure in my lower abdomen. “Yes, Daddy.”

“Hmm.” Sliding his hand over my stomach, he presses gently on my bladder, and I have to clench all my down there muscles to keep from wetting myself. “Would you like to try using your diaper this morning? It would make Daddy very happy if you did.”

For the smallest fraction of a moment, I’m tempted. The thought of seeing him smile at me the way he did the night before is intoxicating, and there isn’t much I wouldn’t do to see it again.

Except piss myself, apparently, because no matter how badly I want to, I can’t seem to make my muscles unclench. “No, Daddy, please. I wanna use the potty like a big girl.”

Disappointment flashes in Daddy’s eyes and he eases off my bladder. “Very well.”

Rolling out of the bed, he reaches for me, scooping me up in his arms to carry me to the bathroom. There’s a distance between us now that wasn’t there when I woke in his arms, and an ache settles just beneath my heart as he strips the diaper from me and places me on the toilet.

Maybe I should have said yes. Maybe if I do everything he asks of me, I won’t have to leave the island once my contract is up.

Even as the thought crosses my mind, I instantly rebel. I don’t want to stay here, trapped as a Little girl for the rest of my days. I want my home, my friends, my freedom.

Don’t I?

“You’re thinking very hard for so early in the morning.” Daddy’s voice is soft and cajoling, so maybe he isn’t angry after all. “What are you so worried about, little thief?”

I can’t tell him the truth of what I’m wrestling with, not when I’m feeling so unsure of myself. But perhaps he can help to settle some of my fears. “Are you mad I wouldn’t use my diaper?”

A sad smile curves his lips. “No, little thief. It would make me so very happy if you did, but I understand if you’re not ready.”

“Okay.”

“Is that all you’re worried about?”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him, to beg him to let me stay. But that would be worse than foolish, so I nod my head. “Yes, Daddy. I was worried I did something naughty.”

Now the smile on his face is full of sparkling amusement. “If you were naughty, do you think you’d be sitting on that toilet seat quite so comfortably?”

Heat rushes to my face. “No, Daddy.”

“No, indeed. Come, let’s get you washed up. Daddy has a full day of meetings, unfortunately, so you’ll have to keep yourself entertained again.”

My bath is much shorter than the days before, with none of the pleasure Daddy usually gives me when he washes all of my private places, and I can’t help but wonder if it’s because I refused to use my diaper. He says he’s not mad, but what if he’s just pretending?

The question plagues me as Daddy dresses me in another frilly dress and, of course, a diaper and carries me downstairs. I’m beginning to worry I might forget how to walk at this rate, since he seems determined I won’t ever be allowed to do so in his presence.

In his office, Daddy glances at his watch and I’m fairly sure the words he says would get my bottom spanked extra hard. “Sorry, little one, Daddy is running a bit behind this morning. Caleb will be in soon with your breakfast.”

“It’s okay, Daddy,” I tell him as he places me in my playpen, even though it makes my tummy hurt to think I won’t get to spend as much time with him as before.

With an absentminded kiss to my head, he leaves me to take his place in front of his computer. I watch, fascinated as he transforms from my doting Daddy to the man I always knew him to be: the most ruthless man on Wall Street, prepared to take down any enemy who might stand in the way of his empire.

As promised, Caleb appears a short while later with breakfast. A bottle of milk and a bowl of fruit on a tray that he sets on the table before picking me up out of my pen.

“Ready for breakfast, sweetheart?” he asks as he places me in a highchair.

“Not hungry.” I know it’s not the right answer, and if Daddy wasn’t busy with his call he would be giving me that stern look that always makes my tummy feel funny.

But he is busy, so I’m stuck with Caleb, and while he does give me the same look I know Daddy would, it doesn’t have the same effect. “You need to eat, Victoria.”

Grabbing a chair, he pulls it up next to me and settles on the seat. He plucks a juicy looking strawberry from the bowl on the tray, and even though the sight of it makes my mouth water, I keep my lips pressed firmly together, earning me a disappointed sigh. “If you don’t do as you’re told, I will have to take you to another room to spank you. Wouldn’t you rather be a good girl for me and eat your breakfast?”

I don’t want to be a good girl for Caleb. I want my Daddy. “I’m not hungry.”

“All right. But I will warn you that if I have to punish you, then your Daddy will also spank you when he is finished with his work. And I happen to know he keeps a paddle in his desk drawer for just such an occasion.”

The warning finally gets past my stubbornness and I force my lips open to accept the strawberry. Sweet, tart juice fills my mouth when I bite into the fruit, and I can’t stop the happy little moan that bubbles up and escapes at the delicious flavor.

“Seems your Daddy was right about the strawberries,” Caleb says with a quiet laugh as he holds another red berry to my lips.

“What do you mean?”

“The local farm had strict orders to grow the biggest, juiciest strawberries they could manage. Just for you.”

It’s another one of those little things that nags at the back of my mind even as I accept another bite of fruit. Honeydew this time, another of my favorite fruits.

How does Mr. Stone know all this? And how long has he been planning on bringing me here?

The questions do nothing to improve my mood, and by the time I finish the bowl of fruit, it’s as though a dark cloud has settled over my head. And when Caleb lifts the bottle to my lips, I’m tempted to refuse, but his warning is still fresh enough in my mind to win my obedience.

Right up until I actually suck on the nipple, and an odd taste fills my mouth. Shoving the bottle away, I spit the milk out, splattering Caleb’s face with the cold, white liquid.

“I don’t like this milk!”

The words come out as a scream, and I instantly know I’ve crossed a line. But before I can apologize, I hear Daddy’s voice behind me and my blood runs cold.

“Gentlemen, you’ll have to excuse me. I have some family business to take care of. Angelique, would you mind rescheduling this meeting at our guests’ earliest convenience?”

I can’t hear what the others are saying, but Daddy wishes everyone well and apologizes for the interruption before he stands and removes a set of earpieces. Beside me, Caleb sighs as he wipes his face clean, and the sound might as well be a scream for as quiet as the room has grown otherwise.

Surprisingly, Daddy doesn’t simply pull me from the chair and immediately begin spanking the way I expected. Instead, he lowers himself to the chair on the other side of me, his expression full of disappointment that has my tummy twisting itself into knots.

“Explain yourself, Victoria Rose.”

Daddy’s voice is hard, harder than I’ve ever heard it and I can barely force myself to speak past the sudden tightness in my throat. “I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t ask for an apology. I asked you to explain to me why you felt the need to spit your milk all over Caleb’s face and interrupt a very important business meeting.”

Now that the moment has passed, I’m not sure I can explain myself. Because I genuinely have no idea what got into me. All I know is I was upset and then my milk tasted wrong somehow, and it was all just… too much.

But how do I explain that to the man sitting beside me, watching me with those cooly furious eyes? I can’t, and so I say the first thing that comes to mind. “I don’t feel good.”

It’s not completely a lie. At the moment, my stomach very much feels like I might empty it all over the table at any given moment.

Daddy’s mouth turns down in a frown. “You feel ill?”

Okay, it’s a little harder to convince myself that’s not a lie, but I find myself nodding anyway. “Uh-huh.”

Pushing to his feet, Daddy unbuckles me from my highchair and lifts me into his arms. Playing up my lie, I sniffle and drop my head to his shoulder, doing my best to look and sound as pitiful as possible.

“Poor little thief,” Daddy murmurs as he carries me from the room. “Let’s go check your temperature.”

Uh-oh. I may not feel so good, but I definitely don’t have a fever. “I don’t think I’m that kinda sick.”

“Daddy will check, just to be safe. I don’t want my sweet little girl falling ill on my watch.”

My mind races as we climb the stairs and my stomach clenches at the thought of what will happen when he discovers my lie. “I think I just need a nap, Daddy.”

“You can have a nap after we check your temperature, little one.”

He sounds so determined, and kicking up a fuss is bound to just get me in even more trouble. So I keep my head on his shoulder, and try to keep my breakfast in my tummy as he carries me to my nursery

Strapping me down onto the changing table as usual, he strips the diaper away and lifts my legs high in the air. Heat rushes to my face as he preps my bottom for the thermometer, sliding a single slippery finger in between my cheeks. Clenching them only earns me a stern look from him, so I relax with a sigh and wait for the cold glass to be pushed into my bottom hole.

“Tell Daddy what’s wrong,” he says as he pushes the slender tube inside me. “Do you have a stuffy nose?”

“No, Daddy.” The best lies contain a kernel of truth, right? “It’s my tummy. Hurts.”

Again, I make myself sound as pitiful as possible, and Daddy frowns. “Hmm. Perhaps you need another cleaning.”

Another enema? No, thank you. “I don’t think so, Daddy.”

“We’ll see.” He gives the thermometer a turn, and I can’t help but whine at the strange sensation. It doesn’t hurt, but it does send a flash of embarrassing need straight to my clit. Judging by the smug smile Daddy flashes me, he is all too aware of the reason for my discomfort. “Just a bit longer, little one.”

My legs start to ache by the time he finally pulls the thermometer from my bottom. And I can tell from the way he sighs and shakes his head that the results don’t bode well for me.

Crap.