Page 23 of Papa's Rules
Hollow your mouth out and open your throat as much as possible.
Let Papa deep into your mouth. Good girl. Just like that.
All your holes belong to your papa. Your cunny. Your mouth. And even your rosebud. Whichever hole I want to fill, that’s the hole you will take my cock in, little girl.
“Cammie?”
She looked up from her plate, realizing she had reached for a piece of toast but had not taken a bite yet, let alone covered it with jam or butter. Had Papa been speaking to her? Oh no, she had gotten lost in her thoughts again. She hoped Papa wasn’t angry.
“Cammie, did you hear me?”
“Um, sorry, Papa. What did you say?”
“I asked if you would like to go for a walk in the gardens after breakfast? The rain appears to have cleared.”
“Of course, Papa. I would be delighted.”
She spread a liberal amount of blackberry jam on her toast and took a bite, practically moaning at the tart sweetness. Though she’d never gone hungry at Talcott House, porridge was usually served for breakfast on most mornings. Jam and toast and baked ham were her favorites, and she shoved several bites into her mouth and chewed vigorously.
“Cammie, slow down or you’re going to choke.”
She finally swallowed and looked at Papa. “I am fine.”
“I know for a fact that you have better table manners than that. Now, put your napkin on your lap and take slow, and smaller bites. If I have to tell you again, there will be consequences. The kind that involve you taking a trip over my knee, where you’ll get your tiny bare bottom smacked good and hard.”
Oh, there it was again. The sharp tingle. The incessant aching.
Why did Papa’s threats make her so breathless with what she was beginning to realize was desire? She didn’t enjoy the pain of a spanking, but when Papa got stern with her, she couldn’t help but flush and squirm in her chair.
With an internal sigh, she sat her toast down and obeyed, placing her napkin over her lap and sitting straighter, exactly how a lady ought to sit at the breakfast table with her handsome lord of a husband.
“Sorry, Papa. It’s just all so delicious.” She dabbed her lips with her napkin, then replaced it on her lap.
“That’s much better. Good girl.”
They finished breakfast a while later, with no more instances of bad table manners, and escaped out a back door for a leisurely stroll in the vast gardens of Ashton Manor. She walked arm in arm with Papa, and she was delighted when he insisted on holding her parasol over her head for her, to help shield her from the bright sun. Water droplets sparkled on some of the flowers and plants in the garden, but the paths that wound through the greenery were mostly dry, and the day was pleasantly warm.
He gave her a brief history of the manor, and told her a little about his parents, both of whom had died not long after he had reached adulthood. Her heart panged for his loss, and she squeezed his hand and willed him to continue, but he kept his emotions guarded and didn’t say much more about them, other than that his mother had loved these gardens, and his father had been a man of few words. Still, she got the sense that he had loved them.
She remembered loving her mother, but always being scared of her moods and the strange men who would come to visit on occasion. She recalled sitting by her mother’s bedside when she had a fever, and her brother, Robert, telling her that everything would be all right. But it wasn’t all right. Her mama had gone to sleep and never woken up. Her next memories were of being cold and hungry on the street. And afraid. So afraid.
She gave her head a shake, trying to banish the dark memories from her thoughts. She was safe now. She had Papa. He wouldn’t let her go hungry or freeze. He’d spoiled her with a bedroom filled with clothing and toys. He’d made her feel wanted, and every time he looked at her, her heart did a little dance. She had never been so happy in her life. She felt as if she were floating in the clouds above.
Papa guided her to a sparkling fountain and they sat down along the edge. He clasped her hand and stared into her eyes, and she was so overcome by the level of warmth and affection reflected in his gaze that her throat started to burn. He gave her a smile and she melted on the spot.
“The gardens are more beautiful than I could have ever imagined, Papa. Thank you for showing them to me. And thank you for spending time with me this morning.”
“Where else would I be this morning, little one?”
She thought for a moment, worrying her lower lip. “Well, papas have to work a lot. That’s what my friend Cynny told me. She said her father—her real father, that is—worked all the time before he passed away and that she hardly ever saw him.”
He stroked a hand down her cheek and drew her closer, until she was almost seated in his lap. “I’m a lord and have people who depend on me, so yes, I will have to work. But you are the most important person in my life. You will come first, Cammie, before all others. I swear it. But,” he continued, “if you ever start to feel neglected or lonely, I want you to promise me something.”
“Promise what?”
“Promise you will come and tell me how you are feeling. I would much rather you tell me how you’re feeling, instead of you acting up and getting into mischief just to get my attention. I don’t think I need to remind you of what happens to naughty little girls in this household, do I?”
“I understand, and I-I promise, Papa.”
He kissed her cheek and she leaned into his show of affection, reveling in the soft warmth of his lips against her skin, and the slight scratch of his whiskers, as he hadn’t shaved today. She leaned back and peered at him, admiring how darkly handsome and rugged he looked.
The tingles and aching started to get worse, and she couldn’t help but squirm.
Papa gave her a knowing look.
“I think it’s time for a bath, young lady. If you’re a very good girl for Papa while he bathes you, I’ll stroke your kitty and help the aching between your thighs to feel better.”
She felt her eyes go wide. “Papa! How do you know about the aching?”
“You keep flushing and fidgeting. I bet your drawers are soaking wet right now, little girl. Come, let’s go back inside. Papa’s going to give you a thorough bath.”
