Page 14 of Daddy's Pretty Baby

CHAPTER FIVE

Melly

I don’t know what kind of weird alternate universe I’m living in, but Mr. Lancaster evidently wants me to act like a little girl. He evidently wants me to actually be a little girl for him, to wear the clothes, do my hair in pigtails, and skip around like a fifth grader. It’s weird. It’s really fucking weird.

But to my astonishment, I kinda like it. I guess my real life had gotten to me, what with no money for rent, the grind of my waitressing job, heck, even dealing with Catherine at home. My real life sucked to be honest, and now to let go, to sit back and let someone else take care of me was a relief, like warm waves caressing my back, soothing muscles that I didn’t even know were strained.

Because of course the first thing I did after dinner was over was rush up to my room and pull out the contract from my bag, that huge, stiff tome. Damn, it hadn’t gotten any shorter and my fingers brushed the page edges like they were an accordion, flipping idly. But it was no use. I couldn’t read then, and I can’t read now. Or more accurately, I can read a little, but half the words swam before my eyes, incomprehensible, literally dancing in squiggles. I managed the first few paragraphs, and snapped my eyes shut, head hurting. That was it. I couldn’t go any further.

So I sat back on the carpet. What the hell had I gotten myself into? I’m a grown woman for crying out loud, twenty years old, supporting myself since I was sixteen. I was a woman of the world, fierce, independent, taking nothing from no one, and now the situation was upended. I’d landed a sweet gig, but obviously it had caveats, huge ones at that. My employer wanted a little girl as a pet, and I was that pet for the next three months.

Could I do it? Could I put my inner instincts on the back burner and let this man take care of me? Let him be my Daddy even, making sure I had food to eat, clothes to wear, disciplining me when necessary? Because I was sure that was part of it. I was sure Mr. Lancaster had a firm hand when it came to intransigence, and I’d be feeling that flat of his palm on my bottom.

But before I could mull the issue more, a knock came, gentle but firm.

“Melly,” rang his deep voice. “It’s Daddy. May I come in?”

And I scrambled onto the bed, shoving the contract hastily into my backpack.

“Yes Mr. Lancaster,” I murmured tinnily. “Come in.”

The door swung open to reveal my employer’s tall, dark form.

“Melly, usually I don’t like closed doors in the house, anything you do can be done before my eyes,” he frowned. “There’s nothing you could do that would shock or offend me.”

And I nodded, contrite.

“Oh of course not, Daddy, sorry, it’s just habit, my old roommate was so nosy that I needed to create distance. But I won’t close the door from here on out. Except the bathroom,” I added quickly. Surely, I could do my business in private right? It was gross otherwise.

But Robert merely shook his head mildly.

“No honey,” his voice continued. “There’s nothing that you could do that would gross me out or turn me off, and that includes using the potty. So when you’re in the restroom, the door is open honey. It doesn’t mean I’m going to look inside, but there are no barriers between us, none at all.”

And my cheeks colored. Holy shit, was he for real? This was crazy, I needed privacy to do my number twos, just to preserve my dignity. God, was this man insane?

But he merely continued.

“When you’re showering honey, I want the door open in case I want to join you, to make sure my little girl gets clean. And if you need help wiping your bottom or washing that bottom, Daddy’s always here as well. Don’t be afraid to call for help.”

I tried not to look shocked, to contain my disbelief. Really, he was going to wipe my bottom for me? Wrap the toilet paper around his hand and wipe my dirty behind? But different strokes for different folks, and clearly, there had been more than enough hints that Mr. Lancaster was no normal alpha male. Holy cow. Well, hopefully I could do my business at the opposite end of the house with him out of earshot, god knows the manor was big enough with dozens of lavatories. So I merely nodded once more.

“Okay Daddy,” I said in a small voice. “I will.”

And Robert nodded approvingly then.

“Good, I’m glad we got that settled. Now, sweetheart, are you ready to get changed for bed? There are a couple comfy PJ sets in your closet, did you pick one out? Was there one that caught your fancy?”

I shook my head.

“Sorry Daddy, I haven’t had a chance to look yet.”

And the big man merely nodded, striding over to the wardrobe and flinging the doors open to look inside. I almost laughed at the incongruity. He was such a big man, tall and dark, and the clothes inside were ludicrous, frilly little girl items, bobby socks with patent leather shoes, empire waist dresses, ruffly and girly, all in various shades of pastel. In my normal life, I wouldn’t be caught dead in that stuff.

But right, that was normal life and now I was in Oz with the wizard, Willy Wonka and Christian Grey rolled into one. Besides, Robert saw nothing wrong. He was now opening a bureau drawer and rummaging around, scrutinizing this and that before pulling out a pair of pink panties with a heart on the front, plus a short white nightgown, plain cotton, with a high neck and long sleeves.

“Come on baby,” the big man said, sitting on my bed next to me. “Let Daddy help change you.”

And slowly, I got to my feet, standing before him. Oh god, what was going to happen now? Slowly, I kicked off my shoes and rolled my socks off, my pink polished toes digging into the carpet. And next to go was my dress, but Robert helped me with that one.

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