Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 33018 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 165(@200wpm)___ 132(@250wpm)___ 110(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33018 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 165(@200wpm)___ 132(@250wpm)___ 110(@300wpm)
I still decide to test him though. “Can I have a bra for the plane too?”
“What do you think?” he asks, lifting a brow. He’s not frustrated with me though. He’s never frustrated. It’s maddening sometimes how unflappable my Daddies can be.
Papa slides his hands up under my dress, cups my breasts, and pinches my little nipples.
My breath hitches, and I grab his shoulders where he’s squatting in front of me to keep from swaying. “Papa…”
He chuckles. “Why aren’t you allowed to wear a bra, Eloise?”
I hate it when he makes me recite the rules. Of course I know the rules. I also know he makes me reiterate them because it makes me horny, and that is why I’m lying to myself. I don’t really hate it. It’s a weird game, mostly created by me.
I take a deep breath. “Because having my boobies free reminds me I’m Little.”
He taps my nose. “That’s right. You may have a sweater if you’re feeling exposed, but no one can tell you’re not wearing a bra under this dress. No one can tell your panties have princesses all over them either.” He grins.
I drop my shoulders dramatically and change the subject. “Are you sure Little girls only wear diapers and T-shirts at Littleworld?” That’s what they’ve told me, and I’m already shifting my weight back and forth between my feet with concern. “What if you’re wrong, and then I don’t have any clothes? Maybe we should take them just in case,” I propose.
“Eloise Grace.” The deep voice coming from the doorway to my nursery makes me jerk my gaze that direction.
Daddy is standing there, hands on his hips, his suitcase at his side. His brow is furrowed, and he’s frowning at me. Sort of. Neither Daddy nor Papa are very good at frowning. Their eyes still twinkle because they have a hard time keeping a straight face when they’re stern with me.
“Do you want to travel all day with a sore bottom, Baby girl?”
“No, Sir.” I shake my head viciously enough that my dark pigtails fly back and forth and whip me in the face. I clench my butt cheeks together, too, at the thought of getting spanked right now.
He lifts a brow. “You sure?”
I chew on my bottom lip. The truth is I like it when they spank me. We have an agreement. Instead of misbehaving all the time in order to get my bottom blistered, all I have to do is ask. In fact, most of the time, if I’m naughty, they don’t punish me with a spanking anyway since they know it’s what I want.
Daddy steps closer and cups my face, tipping my head back. “If you’re stressed, we’d be glad to spank you before we leave the house. We still have time. Perhaps a sore bottom will help you relax?”
I swallow. “No, Sir. I’m good.” Sometimes he’s right, but today I don’t really want to sit on the plane for hours squirming on my hot bottom.
Papa tugs my pigtails from behind me. “You want to wear your hair down until we get to the ferry? Or lower pigtails or braids?”
I tip my head way back so I can see him. It’s rare for either of them to give me options like this. “Umm.”
“How about one ponytail low in the back. Just until we get to the ferry?” Papa lifts a brow.
I’m glad he’s made a decision. When I’m in my Little headspace I have trouble with options sometimes. “Okay.”
Ten minutes later, we’re in the car, headed for the adventure of a lifetime, and I’m so incredibly excited I can’t contain myself.
Chapter Two
“There it is!” I shout excitedly as we finally get close to the island. Even though we’ve traveled all day and I’ve had so many new experiences, I’m still bouncing on my feet.
We’re on the top level of the ferry, outside. The wind has been whipping my pigtails around for the entire hour as the island grows closer and closer. After my first plane trip, I’m having my first boat ride.
The sun is shining, and I’m so happy I don’t even care that I’m wearing only a T-shirt, diaper, and sandals. Plus, most of the other Littles on the ferry are dressed the same, and Papa has assured me that those who are wearing something different will change either before we arrive or soon after.
I hope he’s right because I’m going to be mortified if no one else looks like me.
I giggle when Daddy grabs the back of my T-shirt and hauls me away from the railing. “You’re too close to the edge, Baby girl. How many times do I have to tell you?”
I roll my eyes. “I’m not going to fall off, Daddy. The railing is too high.”
“You’re not going to burn your fingers on a hot pan on the stove either, are you?”