Page 14 of Daddy!

He was leaning back against the arm of the couch, and held up both hands to me. "Come to me."

No choice was given, as usual, so I crawled over to him, and he lifted me against him to lie on my tummy. One arm held me in place, while the other unsnapped something on my bottom, and I could feel a little air on my back and legs as he folded the material away from my rear end.

They had a butt flap! I don't know where he'd found them, but they had an actual butt flap! I thought that was cute as hell—until I felt him rooting around in there.

I don't know why I would have been alarmed by his hand on my behind—it wasn't as if it hadn't been there many, many times before, too. But for some reason, it made me feel acutely shy when he reached up my back enough to tuck it under the top of the almost diaper, moving it down to cup my cheek as I tried to squirm away, even though there was absolutely no hope of actually getting away from him.

But perhaps it more what he was asking, in the ultimate 'Daddy' tone, "Are you wet, baby love?"

I tried to fling myself away quite violently, but his arm—and hand—clamped down on me and I couldn't move.

"Stay still, Tahlia," he scolded lightly. "Let Daddy check. I need to know if you need to be changed or not."

I have never been so mortified in all of my life, I swear. Unfortunately, it—along with absolutely everything else he did to me in this context—seemed to feed into a very sensitive, very intense reaction that was happening not very far from where his hand was. And, as he slipped a finger between my folds, he could feel me creaming all over it because of what he was doing and saying to me.

Even his "Good girl," made me bury my face against his chest in embarrassment. "No kind of wetness but the best kind. That's good."

Then he turned me around so that I was still on my stomach but facing his feet and the TV, and he and I continued to watch the movie.

Well, he did. I caught most of it, but he kept patting my bottom distractingly, and when he did that, I was completely unable to think about anything else.

When it was over, I found myself back in his arms. "Did you like the movie?" He took the pacifier out of my mouth and kept it like a ring on his finger.

"Yes, I did! Can we get a copy of it?"

"I think that might be arranged. We'll have to start a library of little films and TV shows. Would you like that?" Mane brushed his fingers through my hair lazily as we spoke.

"Oh yes!"

"Great—we'll make a list of the ones we want, and I'll keep that list as well as the ones we have—so we don't get dupes—on my phone. But I don't want to spend a whole lot of money on them. Maybe we could make it something we could look for when we hit the flea markets in the summer, hmm, so we can get them cheap."

"Good idea!" I agreed.

"Well, I think this has been a pretty good first day with you being little. What do you think?"

"Uh huh."

"Any feedback you'd like to give me? You can tell me anything, you know. I want to do this right."

He was so cute when he was earnest.

"No spankings and lots more ice cream!" I said emphatically.

His eyebrow went up, and he gave me a very doubtful look. "Anything you'd like to add to that that I'm actually likely to change?"

I took a moment to think about it seriously, even though I was definitely still little. "No, I don't think so." I peeped up at him. "You're awful good at this already, you know."

He actually blushed, and I knew he was taking my compliment to heart, which was what I had intended. Daddies needed love and praise, too, and he was doing phenomenally well. "I'm going to work on tweaking some rules after you go to bed tonight, and we'll talk about them tomorrow."

He looked at his watch, and my smile faded. "Speaking of which, it's ten o'clock, and I'm of a mind that, when you're little, you need even more sleep than you do when you're big. So, your little bedtime is going to be a bit earlier than usual."

"How earlier?" I asked, not really wanting to hear the answer.

"Ten o'clock," he declared and proceeded to carry me into his room.

Chapter 5

"But that's a whole hour!" I whined. "I don't need a whole 'nother hour of sleep!" I lowered my voice considerably to say, with no less emphasis, "That's not fair!"

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