Chapter 6

Chapter Six

I wake up to the sound of someone whispering my name. Someone kind. It's not my father. I lift my eyelids to find Brian leaning over me, smiling down at me. He has his hand on my tummy over the soft blanket.

"There's my sweet girl. I hate to wake you, but you need to take a bottle, Baby girl. You've been asleep for twelve hours."

I gasp, and the pacifier falls out of my mouth. "I slept that long?"

"Yes, Little one. I'm sure you need the rest. I'll let you go back to sleep after you take a bottle. Plus I need to change your diaper."

My breath hitches, and I lift my head to look down. A squeeze of my thighs confirms my diaper is very full. I can't believe I wet myself. It makes me panic. I groan.

"Hey, there." Daddy rubs my tummy. "Don't you worry about your diaper. I'll change it in a jiffy, and it will be all better."

I look at him. "Why didn't I wake up?"

He smiles. "Sweet girl, it's common for Littles to let themselves relax and sink into a deeper regression when they have a diaper on. I'm sure you felt safe, and I'm very glad."

I sigh. I'm unnerved, but I guess it's not going to kill me that I wet myself.

Daddy's right. He whisks me out of the crib and onto the changing table in seconds. The heavily soaked diaper is gone moments later, and he's cleaning my folds.

I watch him, holding my breath, willing him to touch me longer. When he stops, I inadvertently whimper.

He meets my gaze and smiles. "You like it when Daddy touches you."

I bite my lip and don't confirm. My face is hot.

He opens a jar. "I'm going to put a cream on your pussy, Little one. It needs to sit for five minutes. Can you stay still for me for that long?"

I nod slowly. "What is it?"

"It will remove your hair. Littles who wear diapers need to keep their pussy free of hair so it doesn't trap moisture." He's already putting it on me.

I'm shocked. I've never thought of removing my hair, but I kind of like the idea. I bet I'll feel Littler without it.

I watch him with rapt interest as he cleans his fingers and then sets his palms on my inner thighs. He meets my gaze and smiles. "Stay very still for me, okay, Baby girl?"

I nod.

"How does your wrist feel today?"

I realize I'm holding it against my chest with my other hand. "It's okay."

"And your tummy?" He releases my thighs to gently guide my hands to my sides before prodding the bruise on my side.

"It will heal, Daddy," I tell him. He looks so concerned. It feels funny having someone care about me. I'm sure Amelia would have cared if I had ever shared any of the details about my life, but I've never told a soul.

Daddy's fingers dance lightly around my rib cage, making goosebumps rise all over my skin. I love how he looks at me. It's hard to believe I'm lying here so exposed on this changing table with my legs spread wide open. I never could have imagined myself in this position in my lifetime.

Well, I did imagine it. I imagined a lot of scenarios, and Brian starred in all of them, but this reality is hard for me to wrap my head around. Has he really rescued me?

When he begins to wipe the cream away from my folds with a wet cloth, I hold my breath. It's embarrassing how he affects me. Does he know?

He cleans my skin with several cloths until he's satisfied he got all of the hair remover off and then smooths his fingers over my sensitive folds. "How does that feel, Little one?"

I can't answer him. Does he mean the fact that my hair is gone or the way he's touching me?

He doesn't make me answer, and I whimper when he stops touching me. My heart is beating fast as I watch him open another tube of ointment and squeeze some onto his finger. I think it's the same thing he put on me last night.

My breath hitches as he touches my special place again. He takes his time, easing the cream all around my private parts, making sure to cover every millimeter of my skin.

When his fingers circle the bundle of nerves above my folds, a rush of pleasure consumes me. My insides flutter. My legs shake, and I fight to hold them open.

He does it again and wetness leaks out of me. I've only felt like this when I've thought about him alone at night, this weird need that leaves me panting and desperate. A moan escapes my mouth, and I clasp my lips together, mortified by my reaction.

Daddy finishes with the cream and leans over me, his hands on my thighs again, holding me open wider. "No need to be embarrassed, Lacey. What you're feeling is normal. I'm so glad you enjoy my touch."

I can't look at him.

"You don't know much about sex, do you, Little one?"

I flush deeply.

He secures a fresh diaper on me and scoops me into his arms, careful to make sure my bad wrist settles against my tummy. He's so gentle with me. I think I might cry, and I don't want to cry.

He holds me close as he carries me downstairs and over to the fridge. When he opens it, I see there are several bottles lined up on the top shelf. He grabs one and makes his way to the microwave.

I'm mesmerized, watching his fluid movements as he removes the bottle, screws a nipple on it, and shakes it up. "It's better for your tummy if you drink it warm, Little one," he tells me before heading for a large recliner.

He settles in the chair, still cradling me, and offers me the bottle. "I want you to finish your bottles completely, Baby girl. You're underweight."

I start sucking and moan around the nipple. It's so good, and I'm so hungry again.

Daddy smiles at me while I eat, rocking me gently. He never takes his gaze off mine. "Other Daddies on the island told me how bonding it is to bottle feed their Littles, but I never understood until now."

I'm not sure I fully understand, but I do feel so very close to him.

He holds the bottle with one hand and plays with my fingers with the other, stroking my knuckles absently. "I know you've been going to the Dungeon for a long time, but did you realize you were this Little, sweet girl?"

I shake my head as I continue sucking.

"Have you ever pictured yourself wearing a diaper or taking a bottle?"

I hesitate and then give a slight nod. I thought I was strange when I had thoughts like that, but Daddy doesn't seem to think it's weird.

His smile broadens, but he doesn't say more until the bottle is empty. He sets it aside and wraps his arms around me, holding me close, nuzzling my neck. "I love how you smell."

I giggle, partly because it tickles. "You washed me with baby soap. I assume I smell like a baby."

"You smell like my sweet girl combined with baby soap." He sits back, putting a few inches between our faces before suddenly lifting me up a bit by the hips. "Turn toward me and straddle my lap, Little one."

I lift my bare leg over him and tuck my feet in next to his hips, sitting on his thighs. My hands come to his shoulders.

"That's better. We need to talk. I like you looking me in the eye when we talk." He rubs my back over the pink shirt.

My stomach falls. Talk? I don't like that idea. Is he going to take me back home? Tears spring to my eyes. I could probably go home, and my father would never know I'd been gone because he's away for the entire weekend, but I will never be the same after spending the night in this apartment, warm and fed and cherished.

"Hey there…" He cups my face and swipes at my tears with his thumbs. "Why the tears?"

I shrug and mutter, "Are you going to take me home now?"

He frowns. "No, Little one. Never. Not your cabin anyway. I'd like to talk about taking you to my home. On the island."

My breath hitches. "Oh." He said the same thing last night, but I didn't let myself believe it.

"I hate to rush you to make a decision this important, but I have to go back tomorrow, so we don't have a choice. We have to talk about your options. If you'd like to give the island a try, I will sponsor you. You would move into my home, and I would take care of you while you find yourself. I won't lie and say I'm not attracted to you. I'm head over heels for you, Little one. If I had my way, I would make you permanently mine right now and never let you go. But you're not ready for something like that. You've been through a lot. You need counseling to help you get to a place where your past doesn't haunt you every day of your life."

Make me permanently his? What does that mean?

"If it's too soon, or you don't think you want to go to the island, I'll spend today making other arrangements for you." His brow furrows as he says that. "I bet I can find someone from the Dungeon you can stay with while you get on your feet, maybe even a Daddy if that's what you want."

My eyes widen. "I don't want a different Daddy," I tell him.

He eases his palms down to my back again. "You think you'd like to give this Daddy a try?" He smiles.

I nod. I want that so badly. It's hard to believe it could be true, but the flutters return.

"Moving to the island is a huge commitment, Little one. I need to explain to you what you'd be agreeing to before you decide."

There's nothing to decide. I don't care what he says. I want to go. But I listen to him.

"First of all, it's important to know that all Littles live fully regressed like you are right now. They wear diapers and T-shirts. Sometimes sandals or tennis shoes. Nothing else. No exceptions."

"Always?" That's hard to wrap my head around.

He nods.

"Even outside?"

"All the time. The island and Littleworld are safe places for Littles to live and visit without worrying about being judged, and the way to ensure that is to have rules everyone follows. Both Little boys and Little girls follow the same dress code. Shirts, diapers, and occasionally sandals or tennis shoes for walking. At the waterpark and the beach, Littles only wear a swim diaper. Nothing else."

My eyes widen again. That seems to be happening a lot lately, and I bet they will bug out for days if I go with him. "No shirts?"

"Nope. It only seems odd until you get used to it."

"Would I be this Little always in the house?"

"Yes, Baby girl. I have a nursery. All homes have nurseries. I would take care of all your needs—feed you, bathe you, change you… Everything."

"I would use a diaper all the time?" I'm not sure how I feel about that.

"Without exception. Littles don't have access to the bathrooms on the island. None of them. Not in the parks or at home. They're locked and only a caregiver can open them."

I squirm on his lap. The thought of pretending to be this young all the time is enticing. Having someone to take care of me makes me feel warm and gooey inside. The thought of having Brian take care of me makes the flutters turn into full blown butterflies.

"What happens when you go to work?"

"There's a daycare for Littles right in the middle of town. You'll go there while I'm working. You'll make friends. There are so many Little girls just like you on the island, Lacey. I bet you would love it."

"I wouldn't work?"

"Nope."

"None of the Littles work?"

"Some do. Some have jobs they do from home, and some work at the businesses. Littles who work do wear more clothes while they are working, but they're easily distinguished from Mommies and Daddies because they're still diapered."

It's hard to visualize. It sounds like paradise. I shrug. "I couldn't work anyway. I have no skills and no education."

"There are also educational opportunities at the daycare. Some Littles work on their high school diplomas or even take college classes. I would never stop you from learning and nourishing your mind."

I sit up taller, staring at him. "I could go to school?"

He smiles. "If you want, Little one. Definitely."

Tears run down my cheeks, yet again. It's all too good to be true.

"Oh, sweet girl." He pulls me closer and hugs me to his chest, rubbing my back. "You are so very precious."

I sniffle back the tears. "Can I have books?"

He leans me back and meets my gaze. "You may have every book in the world, Little one."

More tears fall. "Really?"

"All of them. We can fill the house with physical books, but even better than that, we can load ebooks onto a reader, and you can have thousands of them right in your hands."

I know about ereaders. I've never owned one. My father doesn't have one.

"I don't understand why your father didn't let you have books."

"He said they were poisoning my mind. Filling my head with fiction. I needed to live in reality. Reading has always been my favorite thing in the world. My mother bought me all kinds of books. I used to have dozens in my room. I read them over and over."

"What happened to them?"

I look away, pursing my lips.

"Lacey…sweet girl. Tell Daddy so I'll understand."

"He burned them," I whisper.

Daddy gasps. "He burned your books?"

"Yes. He said they distracted me. I kept losing track of time, and I would forget to cook dinner, and he gathered them up and burned them in the trash can in the backyard. I still had some in my room, but when he found me reading them, he took them and threw them away."

"Jesus…"

He pulls me tight again, hugs me so close my side hurts, but I don't complain. I like it when he holds me. I like the feel of his heart beating against my chest and the way his breath tickles my ear.

When he eases back again, he clears his throat. "From now on, you will have every book you desire, and I will never ever punish you for reading or getting lost in your books. I will have rules. You will have a bedtime and naptime, and sometimes I will insist you need to eat or take a bath, but if you want to read most of the day, that's what you will do."

This time, I'm the one who throws my arms around him to hug his neck tightly. "You promise he won't be able to find me on the island?"

"Never, Little one. I promise."