Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 33811 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 169(@200wpm)___ 135(@250wpm)___ 113(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33811 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 169(@200wpm)___ 135(@250wpm)___ 113(@300wpm)
I’m mortified, and when I try to take the tissues from him, he holds them out of my reach. “Let Daddy do it.” He wipes my cheeks again and then holds the tissue up to my nose. “Blow.”
I can’t stop myself from obeying him even though it’s gross and embarrassing. I blow my nose into the pile of tissues.
“Good girl.”
I cry harder when he says that. He’s being so kind to me. I come to the Dungeon usually twice a month. I play with the other Littles and sometimes talk to a Daddy, including Brian, but I’ve never gotten this close to one of them. I’ve never done a scene or gone into a private room.
A lot of the Littles like to misbehave and get spanked, even for fun, but the idea of that makes me want to vomit.
Brian wipes my face a few more times before I pull myself together. I realize when I suck back the last few sniffles I’m holding my hurt arm with my other one. Shoot. I let it go and rest it on my lap, looking down.
I’m shaking.
“How about we start over, sweet girl.”
Chapter Two
Start over? What does he mean by that?
I lift my gaze to take in his expression. He looks kind and patient.
“Tell Daddy why your tummy hurts, and I want the truth. I don’t want you to make something up about falling and hitting your tummy on the way down to land on your hand.”
I’m so nervous. “Are you going to spank me?” I ask in a very soft voice.
He frowns. “Do you need me to spank you, Lacey?”
I shake my head quickly. “No, Sir.”
“How about if you tell me the truth, and then it will be a moot issue, huh?” He lifts a brow.
“I don’t want to.”
He frowns for a moment and then inhales deeply before glancing at my left arm. “I’m going to look at your arm, Little one,” he says, changing the subject. “Let’s get this sweater off.” He reaches for the end of the sleeve and gently eases my white sweater down my arm.
I bite my lip while he does so, hoping he won’t be able to tell what might have happened to my wrist. I don’t want to lie to him. It makes me feel like I might be sick, but I can’t tell him the truth either. It’s too humiliating.
I’m wearing a pale blue dress under my sweater and white tights with white flats. Every part of my outfit came from a secondhand store, so the shoes are scuffed, the tights are dingy, the dress is worn, and the sweater has a few spots I repaired with my mom’s sewing kit.
I only have a few outfits to wear to the Dungeon, and I keep them hidden in the bottom of my drawers at home so my father won’t find them.
After Brian whisks my sweater away and sets it on the counter, he picks up my arm so gently at the elbow and looks closely, turning it over and back a few times. He glides a finger over the nasty bruising. It’s slightly swollen but not as bad as other times.
I should have stayed home tonight, but I hate it when I miss an opportunity to go to the Dungeon. Now I’m probably in over my head. I’m going to have to lie.
“These are fingerprints, Lacey,” Brian says softly as he points to the obvious outline of my father’s fingers on my wrist.
My father grabbed my arm and yanked it so hard last night that my shoulder hurts, too. He squeezed my wrist until I winced, and then got great pleasure in slowly twisting it until I cried.
Brian sets my hand on my thigh. “Lie back for me, Baby girl.” He doesn’t wait for me to agree. He simply sets a hand between my shoulder blades and guides me onto my back.
Without a word, he lifts my dress up over my stomach and pulls my tights down a few inches.
I stare at the ceiling. My heart is beating so hard I can feel it in my ears.
Brian says nothing while he leans over my tummy and carefully touches it in a few places.
When I wince, he glances at my face. He’s all business. I feel like I’m in a real doctor’s office. It’s hard to remember this is the club because the room looks exactly like a clinic, and Brian really is a nurse.
I hold my breath as he pulls my tights down another few inches. My emotions are all over the place. I’m trying to ignore the obvious and disassociate, but all I can do when I separate myself from my problems is think about the fact that I’m in the exact position I’ve dreamed about so many times.
There’s an ache between my legs that has nothing to do with any injury. It’s an ache that only a Daddy can fix. This Daddy. Brian. I really wish we were in here doing a planned scene instead of him examining me for real.