Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 34052 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 170(@200wpm)___ 136(@250wpm)___ 114(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34052 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 170(@200wpm)___ 136(@250wpm)___ 114(@300wpm)
He nods toward the computer. “Close your document, shut down the computer, and go to the nursery. I’m going to go change clothes. I expect to find you naked when I meet you in the nursery.” He cups my chin and kisses my lips gently before rising and turning to leave the room.
“Yes, Sir.” I quickly turn back to the computer and do as I’m told.
There’s merit to his suggestion. I didn’t exactly intentionally work this late, but I might have sort of possibly consciously not set my alarm and left my demise up to fate.
I rush to the nursery, strip out of my leggings, T-shirt, and panties, and drop them all in the hamper. During working hours when I spend my days translating novels into German, I always dress in a similar outfit as today.
Most of my clothes come from a specialty shop that caters to people with sensitivity issues. I don’t have tags or zippers or buttons and, in most cases, not even seams.
Bras are extremely uncomfortable, so I almost never wear one. They make me feel like I’m suffocating, and they are itchy and too tight. Though there are a lot of online shops that make socks I can tolerate, I prefer to be barefoot most of the time.
Before Daddy joins me, I’ve done as I was told, and I’m standing in the middle of the nursery naked with my hands clasped behind my back. My unruly, curly hair is pulled up in a messy bun.
Daddy shuffles into the room almost silently. He’s wearing black jeans, a black T-shirt, and black shoes. We’re going to the Dungeon tonight, and this is his usual attire for the club. He looks even sexier and mouthwatering now than he did in his tie.
We haven’t been to the club since we started dating over a month ago. A lot has happened since then, including me moving in with Daddy and giving up my apartment. In many ways, it seems like it’s been far longer than a month.
Daddy is careful to show me his hands as he approaches and doesn’t make any sudden movements when he wraps his fingers around my hips. He’s always been careful and respectful of the fact that I ordinarily don’t react well to being touched without my knowledge.
The truth is Chase’s touch has never bothered me. There’s something different about him that sets him apart from anyone else in the world. It’s how I knew from the moment he first squatted down in front of me at the Dungeon that he was the one.
The perfect Daddy.
I’ll never forget that moment in my life. I had been about to have a panic attack when he’d lowered himself in front of me to carefully remove the shards of a yellow lollipop from the bottom of my shoes. The stickiness had been the last straw that had pushed me to the edge.
That entire evening had been a disaster of my doing. I never should have shown up at a costume party with a cheap princess dress made of very itchy material that hit all my trigger buttons. I shouldn’t have decided to wear the clear jellies in an effort to imitate Cinderella’s slippers without trying them at home first. I should have anticipated the crowd, the loud music, and the flashing lights.
The red punch on the table next to me had just caught my eye and given me the willies when I’d stepped on the lollipop.
Chase had saved the day. He’d done so without touching me any more than necessary. He’d also crawled under the table to talk to me when I’d shoved myself into the corner to catch my breath. He’d carried me out of the club and taken me home where he’d tucked me into bed and then slept on my couch to make sure I was okay.
I love him. And I sometimes push the envelope because I trust him to give me what I need when I need it, including a spanking.
Daddy lifts me up and swings me gently onto the changing table. “How was your day, princess? Did you get a lot done?” he asks casually as if I’m not in trouble.
I’m not sure what his game is, but I nod. “Yes, Daddy.”
He gently lifts my arms over my head before grabbing a diaper from the shelf under the table.
I’m confused as he lifts my hips and slides the diaper under me. Isn’t he going to spank me first? “Daddy?”
“What, Baby girl?” He applies diaper cream to my folds, taking his time, making it difficult for me to focus as my arousal grows with every stroke of his fingertips.
“Uhhh, aren’t you going to spank me?”
“Yep. Later.”
“Later? When?”
He lifts the front of my diaper over my hips and fastens the sides before tapping my nose. “Later when you least expect it.”