Page 25 of A Submissive's Gift
Barbara giggled and nodded. “That’s okay, Daddy. I like Brussels sprouts and,” she paused and gave him a smile, “I’ve already had my real dessert.”
Craig helped her off his lap and gave her bare bottom a swat, loving the shriek that elicited, and the sight of her naked posterior as she ran toward the dining room. He sat back on the couch considering, that it hadn’t been that long ago that this beautiful adult woman had felt unloved and undesirable. Now she had a Daddy, as well another age-play family, to make sure she knew just how precious she was to all of them.
At the table, Betty gave her a smile and handed the girls each a fork. When Barbara reached down and stabbed the largest sprout on Angel’s plate, Betty’s smile widened and she didn’t scold. She understood that it was another sign that Barbara wanted to share everything with them.
Though the vegetables had grown cold and far less palatable, all four were eaten without a word of complaint. “That’s my good girls,” Betty said, offering them each a sip of water and then dabbing at their lips before giving them each a kiss.
“May we go play now?” Angel asked, her punishment done, forgiveness given.
“Yes, you may,” Betty answered, taking their hands in hers once more to lead them into the living room. When Barbara tugged at her clothing to untuck her skirt, her aunt shook her head. “No, darling girl, I think knowing that your sweet red bare bottom is nicely exposed will remind my girls that vegetables are to be eaten and not hidden, don’t you?”
Once again Barbara felt her cheeks flushing but nodded as she tucked the fabric back into her waistband. “Yes, ma’am, Aunt Betty.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
The weeks before Thanksgiving flew by until the big day had finally arrived. Delicious aromas permeating the air promised a meal that would not only satisfy hunger, but also the very souls of the people lucky enough to be gathered around the huge table. There had never been a question of where the holiday meal would be shared as Craig’s restaurant was the only place large enough to comfortably accommodate the group of friends which seemed to be growing monthly.
Remembering her assurance to Greg Spenser that she’d be perfectly content with a turkey on rye sandwich eaten in the courthouse, Barbara smiled as she watched from where she was seated on a tall stool in the bustling kitchen. Craig seemed pleased to be once again working in his commercial kitchen, surrounded by his friends instead of his staff, guiding and directing the final preparations as only an executive chef could. As the gravy was stirred, and the cream whipped until perfect peaks formed in the bowl, she realized that she had so much to be thankful for.
“Bunny, honey, are you okay?”
Barbara smiled and nodded. “Yes, Daddy, I’m fine. Just waiting for the pumpkin pie.”
Chuckling, Craig came around the large island to wrap his arms around her. It was good to see her so relaxed, to see her smile again. It seemed that she had truly put the case behind her. Ever since the night they had spent with the Dennisons, she had resumed her role of his Little with a passion that pleased him greatly.
“Are you forgetting the fact that turkey and dressing, along with a good helping of vegetables, are to be eaten before any pie, little girl?” he teased, even though he’d have no problem allowing her to eat whatever she wished in whatever order she wished—at least on this day.
Pretending to sigh deeply, Barbara pursed her lips into an incredibly cute pout. “Yes, Daddy, but I’m looking forward to huge piece of pie, and I want to lick the spoon.” She pointed at the spoon that Ariel was using to mound the fresh cream into a bowl.
Craig bent to kiss her, his lips twitching as he whispered, “I can think of a far sweeter place I love to lick up delicious cream, as well as a far better place for a spoon to land than on your tongue, my precious girl. However, until then, I’ll have to be appeased by watching you squirm a bit as you enjoy the treat.”
Her buttocks clenched, and the cream he was describing began to gather between her thighs as his lips descended upon hers. It was going to be very difficult to enjoy the whipped cream with visions of her Daddy’s head between her legs after reddening her bottom running through her mind. Her cheeks flushed a beautiful pink as Craig chuckled and, taking the spoon from Ariel, handed it to his Little girl.
As the tip of her tongue reached out to take the first taste, her eyes glued to his. At the sight of his desire turning the mocha of his eyes a dark chocolate, she moaned and her entire body quivered. Swallowing, she bent close and whispered, “Don’t fret, Daddy. I’ll remember to save room for your cream too.” Hearinghis groan, she smiled, her heart swelling with the knowledge that she would always want and be desired by this man. Her sudden squeal startled Craig until he realized that his honorary niece had arrived, running into the kitchen to find her friend. Giving the Little a hug, he helped her onto the stool next to Barbara.
“I’m assuming this is the Angel we’ve all heard so much about?” Ariel asked. “We can’t wait to sit down and have a nice long talk with you.”
“I’m guessing you know I’m not always an angel,” Angel said, leaning forward, her fingers opening and closing as if demanding she be given the same treat Bunny was enjoying. She giggled as Ariel smiled and calmly dipped back into the bowl and passed Angel a second cream-coated spoon. The Little took a swipe with her tongue before speaking again. “I can’t wait to sit and talk to all the HOPEFULs, I’ve heard so many great… um, stories about how you support each other.” The three women broke into laughter, causing Craig to shake his head.
“Behave, all of you,” he admonished, plucking the spoons from the Little’s hands and handing them back to Ariel. “It’s time to eat real food.”
He helped them off their stools, giving each bottom a gentle pop before Angel grabbed Barbara’s hand to lead her into the dining room.
“That is absolutely amazing,” Ariel said, coming around the island and giving Craig a hug. “You have made my sister so happy, Craig. We all have so much to be thankful for this year.”
Touched deeply, Craig bent to kiss her cheek. “That we do, Ariel.” He chuckled as he looked around the kitchen. The large space appeared as though a tornado had torn through it. Everyone had joined in to prepare various dishes, and though a great deal of mess had been made, it had been a very fun-filled day as recipes were shared and dishes prepared. “I’ll also be very thankful when this disaster is cleaned up.”
“Leave it, Chef,” Ariel said, taking his hand and pulling him toward the door. “As you said yourself, it’s time to eat.”
Everyone was gathered, wine glasses in hand, as seats were taken. The group included more than their own family. Angel smiled at them from her seat between Betty and John, thrilled that they had been invited to share in the feast. More importantly, she had felt instant acceptance by the women who she knew formed the special club of which Barbara had told her. She was so pleased Barbara had them to share her feelings and thoughts with whenever the two Littles were apart.
Ethan and Jeanette were there, as well as Ryan and Julie. Clayton and Beth rounded out the group. The day of thanks was one this group took seriously, wishing to share it with the people they had come to love.
Ben sat at the head of the table, Helen beside him. His smile included everyone as hands were joined to form an unbroken circle. Once quiet had descended, Ben solemnly said grace, his words of thanks filling hearts. As “Amen” was chorused, he suggested they all share one thing that they were thankful for. Craig carved the turkey and as platters and bowls were passed, words of thanks were delivered one after another. No one was surprised when most were of love and family, friends and partners.
Wine flowed and platters were cleaned as the meal progressed. Everything was delicious—from the small stuffed mushrooms that Jason had requested, to the fluffy garlic mashed potatoes drenched in savory giblet gravy that Nancy had prepared. She and Elizabeth had playfully argued over potatoes versus yams being the standard Thanksgiving fare. Everyone was very happy when, in addition to Nancy’s potatoes, Elizabeth’s sweet potato casserole, creamed with lots of brown sugar and butter and topped with toasted and yet still gooey, melted marshmallows, was also placed on the table. Loganignored the teasing of his sisters when he bypassed the freshly made cranberry relish in favor of the processed cranberry that slid straight out of its can in a perfect cylinder. Asparagus wrapped in thin slices of prosciutto, and green beans prepared with garlic and ginger, provided the vegetables Craig had promised, along with a huge variety of small pickles, olives, cocktail onions, and celery stuffed with a variety of cheeses.
Ariel turned up her nose as a bowl was passed to her. “Ugh, no thanks. No offense, Craig, but even you can’t turn a Brussels sprout into anything exciting.” She quickly set down the bowl in order to pound Barbara on her back, mistaking her sister’s peals of laughter as possible choking.
