Page 25 of Daddy's Pretty Baby

CHAPTER EIGHT

Robert

Oh shit, I’m such a fucking goner. I’m in a cesspool of trouble, going way beyond the terms of the contract. In fact, I should throw out that thing, each word of that document has been violated, each letter meaningless in light of what’s happened.

Because Melly is amazing. The girl is a good little hands down, she wears the clothes, acts the part, eats the mac n’ cheese without complaining, and lets me fuck her every which way whenever I want, screaming her delight to the heavens, that curvy body shaking, trembling, giving it up over and over again.

But she’s also way more than that. Melly is also Melissa Carlson, a big girl, a smart girl, a survivor. Because a children’s home? Growing up in what’s essentially an orphanage for kids, except your parents are still alive? Shit, it’s probably worse than an orphanage because knowing that your parents are actually around, and they just don’t want you anymore must be crushing. And my little girl had grown up in those circumstances, with no one loving her, small, lost and lonely. It was fucking unreal.

So I’ve made some subtle adjustments to make sure Melissa has a good life after Valley Pine. For one, fifteen thousand is nowhere near enough considering what Melly’s done for me. She’s made me so happy, my body convulsing again and again, shooting liters of sperm into that sweet cunt. But even more, my mind is clear. I love conversation with her, sharing our days while we linger over meals, talking deep into the night as we cuddle in the big bed.

Because oh shit, yeah, I’ve completely violated that clause of the contract. Paragraph Forty-Two says that the little can never enter the master suite, that it’s off limits, she sleeps only in the four poster, her designated space. But ever since that night of Connect Four, Melly’s stayed with me since. She’s moved in, taking her baths in my en suite, keeping her nightclothes in my closet, shit, there are even feminine products in the bathroom, lotion, body wash, oodles of stuff hogging all the counter space.

And I love it. I love having her there, my personal orbit invaded. I love waking up to that sweet form cuddled against me, her breast in my hand, my other fist cupping that sweet, wet cunt. Because yeah, I adore Melly’s essence, what makes her her, and it’s always such a fucking turn-on to start the day with my dick in that sweetness, wetting it in her pussy first thing in the morning. But it’s more than that. I love Melissa’s mind. I love the way she thinks, how she’s so giving, so careful not to take too much.

“No, I’m good,” she said smiling sweetly at me the other day.

I shot her a look.

“No more?” I asked, disbelieving.

We were at a department store, and I’d opened up my wallet at the cosmetics counter. Most littles wear light make-up, a little something to enhance their looks, to emphasize their youth and innocence. And sure enough, Melly had picked two items, two pots of pink and purple, I didn’t even know what they were for.

“That’s it?” I asked with disbelief, eyeing the items. The two together couldn’t have cost more than fifty bucks, they were so tiny.

But Melly just laughed lightly, the sound tinkling in the air, music to my ears.

“Thanks Daddy,” she said softly once more. “But I don’t wear much anyways, so there’s no need to go overboard. Just these two things are fine.”

And I nodded approvingly because it was true, Melly doesn’t need much in terms of artificial help. I’ve seen her sans make-up many times, and the girl is flat out gorgeous, her skin creamy and glowing, that luscious pout full without any enhancement whatsoever. But still, most females in her place would have gone crazy with the blank check. They would have bought everything and anything in sight, just to take advantage of the opportunity.

But Melly’s not like that. She shows restraint, which is all the more surprising given that she grew up in a home. Hell, if I’d grown up in a children’s shelter, I would have greedily grabbed everything in sight, going nuts like a little boy in a candy store, stuffing my mouth full, pockets overflowing.

But Melly’s not like that. Oh sure, she’s got appetites, she eats plenty, keeping weight on that full figure, and hell, that girls got a ticking time bomb between her legs, that cunt’s always sucking me in deep, prepping for a nuclear explosion. But most of the time, the brunette never takes too much, doesn’t waste, is always frugal and neat, saving her money for a rainy day.

So yeah, I’ve decided to pay her far more than the fifteen thousand in the contract, I’m thinking more along the lines of fifty thousand. It’s the least I can do, I’ve got a fortune in the billions, it’s just a drop in the bucket for me. And in a strange sequence of events, I’ve even bought a little cottage down the block where she can work, a studio of sorts that gets good light, perfect for painting, sculpting, quiet and serene. Don’t ask me what it means because I have no fucking clue, all I know was that when I saw the blue door, the neat patio, the white picket fence that went all the way around, I knew it was perfect for Melly. I knew it was perfect for her, that Melissa should have some space to herself, that she should pursue her dreams of art, and that I could make it happen. I could do this for her, for the girl who had nothing growing up.

So yeah, life has taken twists and turns that I never expected. My little’s got me wrapped around her finger, I can’t get my mind off her, I’m always thinking about what she wants, what she needs, how to make her happy, how to make her life better. And this trip to Disneyworld is just the cherry on top.

“You ready?” I asked, smiling at her as we boarded the plane.

A ray of sunshine lit that gorgeous face, her brown eyes warm, gentle, melting into mine.

“Absolutely Daddy,” she murmured, taking my hand as we were seated. “Absolutely, I’ve waited my whole life.”

Because what do you know, but her desire to see the Magic Kingdom wasn’t feigned. To orphans, Disney really is the Magic Kingdom. It’s a place they can only dream about, day passes are three hundred dollars per pop, plus another fifty if you want to do fast pass. So fuck, it’s totally out of their reach, a realm they can only see on TV, and Melly’s been dying to go since she was six.

“You look beautiful,” I murmured. “You’re a princess.” And it was true. Because instead of a normal dress, Melly was clothed in a yellow ballgown, like the one Belle wears in Beauty and the Beast. It was poofy and glittery, and my girl had topped it with a tiara in her hair, brown ringlets running loose down her back, her tiny feet shod in Mary Janes studded with crystals. All in all, a gorgeous sight, and I leaned forward to press a kiss against her nose.

“Oh Daddy,” she giggled before kissing me back, lightly lapping at my lips, one small hand burrowed in my lap, circling the stiffness there. “Oh Daddy,” she sighed again.

Because of course, we were flying private. Mel’s outfit would have gotten weird looks from strangers, but in my private plane, we were among my staff, totally discreet and professional, acting like this was all normal. So fuck yeah, if I my latest little was wearing a ballgown, if she wanted to suck and fondle me during the flight, then we’d have our privacy, no weird looks, no questions, no nothing. This is how Robert Lancaster rolls.

So it was a sensuous three hours aboard the luxurious plane, and Melly had some serious cleaning up to do before we de-boarded, I’d released at least three loads between her legs, that slick little pussy was so full. But all she did was massage the sperm into her folds further, pushing the hot white back into that creamy hole, giggling and looking at me as she did it.

“Daddy,” she said coyly. “Do princesses get their Daddy’s cum in them every night?”

I groaned, shit, my dick was stiff again just watching her do the nasty.

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