Raising Lucy

by Becca Jameson

  I take a breath. “I don’t want you to hire someone else. I don’t want you to replace me. I don’t want someone else to come in here and join us. I’m not ready for that. I might never be.”

  He wipes my cheeks with his fingers. “Blossom… Honey…”

  “Please,” I beg. “I’m struggling with how your current employees see me. It’s awkward. It’s going to take me some time to let myself truly relax and be whoever I am in front of other people. I don’t want you to add a stranger. And I don’t want you to need that person more than you need me.” I finish on a whisper.

  He doesn’t say anything for a moment. Just keeps stroking my face and my bottom with his thumbs.

  “I think it would actually be easier on me if I spend at least a few hours every day helping take care of your needs instead of you taking care of mine.”

  Finally, he nods. “Okay, blossom. I understand.” He wipes another tear. “Shh. Don’t cry. It’s okay. We’ll figure this out together. Sometimes we just have to stop and renegotiate.”

  I hiccup. “You won’t get mad?”

  “No, Lucy, I won’t get mad. I’ll never get mad at you for coming to me with a concern. I want you to be able to tell me anything. If we don’t have open communication, we have nothing.”

  “Okay,” I murmur. I wipe my face with both hands. “Will you let me work this afternoon?”

  He nods. “Sure. Tell me what it looks like to you. Are you going to stay in the role? Or do you want out for a few hours?”

  I chew on my lip. I’m not sure until I do it. “I don’t know. Can we try it like this first? I’ll stay halfway in the role, still dressed as your little girl, but maybe after you give me a to-do list, you leave me be to get it done. Would that work?”

  He smiles. “I think so.”

  “Then afterward, can I maybe play with my nail polish, Sir?” I ask to soften the blow.

  His grin widens. “Absolutely.”

  Good. He likes the idea of me being his little girl. It lights up his face. But he’s also willing to let me take a break from the stress of submitting to help him get his office in order. Win win.

  I hope.

  Chapter 37

  Lucy

  * * *

  Hands land on my shoulders, and I about jump out of my skin. I didn’t hear Master Roman come up behind me. I twist around to face him.

  He takes the pile of folders from my arms and sets them on my desk. He pushes my chair in next. “That’s enough, blossom. You’ve been working for four hours. I’ll let you do that every afternoon after your nap if you promise to stop when I tell you and return to your role-playing.” He lifts a brow.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  He points at the desk. “The work won’t go anywhere. It’ll be there tomorrow. The grownup desk will be for when you’re working. When you’re done, the chair gets pushed in and you go back to your play area.” He’s telling me, not asking.

  “Yes, Sir.” I smooth my hands down my dress. I’ve ignored it for four hours. I’ve ignored my role entirely, separating my mind. Compartmentalizing. I paid no attention to my dress length, my panties, or my lack of bra.

  I realize I feel energized. Refreshed. I smile. “I think that arrangement will work perfectly.”

  “Good.” He swats my bottom. “Now, go check out your new things.”

  I spin around and rush across the room, a totally different person from two minutes ago. A twelve-year-old. A child. With new toys to play with.

  “Lucy,” he calls from the doorway as he’s leaving.

  “Yes, Sir?”

  “Don’t spill anything on the rug.”

  “Okay, Sir.” I watch him leave and stare at the space. A weight has been lifted. I’m giddy with this new arrangement. Master Roman isn’t going to replace me. Nor is he going to bring someone else into our space. That idea had made me crazy. I can do both. I’ll show him.

  I plop down on my new rug, my panties the only thing between me and the soft material. My skirt flares out around me as I sit cross-legged and reach for the nail kit to tear into it.

  I haven’t owned nail polish in a few years. I’m dying to paint my short nails pink and put glitter on them. I won’t spill it. I’ll be careful. Maybe if Master Roman lets me keep them painted, I will stop biting them and let them grow longer.

  Maybe.

  Chapter 38

  Master Roman

  * * *

  I can’t stop smiling as I watch Lucy in the hot tub. I have declined to enter with her, preferring to watch her enjoy herself. Instead, I sit nearby in a lounge chair, leaning my chin on my palm.

  It’s Saturday. She’s been my middle for two weeks. She’s not a little. Or at least we haven’t tried that yet. She’s so content at this age that I hate to rock the boat. Maybe one day soon I will suggest it.

  I’ve purchased her a mermaid swimsuit which made her giggle when she opened it. It’s a one piece. Mostly pink. She looks so fucking delicious in it that I knew the moment I pulled it up her body and over her shoulders there was no way I could get in the hot tub with her.

  I have brought her to orgasm every day at least once, usually at night when I tuck her in. She’s so pliant at night. Something about putting on her skimpy little nighties and climbing into her little-girl bed with no panties over her pussy makes her horny.

  I greatly enjoy tugging her comforter down, spreading her legs, and stroking her folds until she comes for me. I usually make her keep her arms above her head. I’ve only penetrated her with one finger so far. She’s so damn tight.

  On two occasions she pointed at my cock and asked if she could touch it.

  I’ve turned her down so far, but it’s time. I need to at least let her hold it and see it. Warm her up to the idea. I know it will still be a while before I penetrate her, but it’s time to stretch her tight pussy and prepare her for the nirvana she is unaware will blow my simple little orgasms out of the water.

  She giggles, splashing in the water.

  I keep smiling. Her swimsuit has sucked against her skin, and when she stands up, I can see her nipples poking the thin fabric near the mermaid’s head. It’s comical since the suit was meant for a girl with no tits yet.

  Lucy is so small that I don’t have to work too hard to find her clothes. Some Doms have to have their little’s clothes custom made. In Lucy’s case, most of her things can just be ordered in the largest girl size and slightly altered. The chest is often too tight, but I like it that way. It still unnerves her after two weeks. She especially flushes when Weston comes in the room. I’ve seen her try to hide her tits and check to make sure her bottom is covered.

  It’s adorable. I don’t mind it. Her embarrassment is part of her role. I secretly hope she never loses this innocence. It’s possible she will keep it forever. It might be imbedded in the way she sees herself in the role.

  As if thinking about her reaction to Weston conjured him, the man is suddenly walking toward me. He’s holding an envelope. “Sir, I went by Lucy’s apartment today to make sure everything was cleared out and to get her mail. Most of it was junk, but this letter was in the pile.”

  “Thank you.” I glance at Lucy as I take it from him. She’s facing the other way, paying no attention. Or more likely she noticed Weston and turned away from him intentionally.

  As Weston returns to the house, I flip the envelope over a few times and then open it. The return address means nothing to me. It has come from Missouri. Inside is a single sheet of regular notebook paper. It’s a letter. Handwritten in pencil. I glance again at Lucy. She’s sitting peacefully in the hot tub, head tipped back, eyes closed, smile on her lips.

  For a moment, I consider putting the letter back in the envelope and giving it to her. I’m invading her privacy. But my curiosity is too strong. She’s told me she has no one, so who would be writing to her?

  Dear Lucy,

  My name is Daven Neill. I have no idea if you’ve ever heard of me or know who I am, but I’m your half brother. I on
ly recently found out about you. We have the same father. I found your information in my mother’s things after she died last month. I was hoping we could meet someday. I realize our father died years ago, but I never met him. Maybe you could tell me what he was like. Perhaps you have pictures. I hope I’m not upsetting your life by writing. I tried to find you on social media, but didn’t succeed. Please forgive me if this is the case. If you don’t mind connecting, I’m including my phone number below.

  Daven

  I’m too stunned to move a muscle for several moments. Lucy has a brother? For a second I wonder if she’s lied to me, and then I dismiss that thought. She had no idea she has a brother. He must be older. From a marriage or relationship her father had before she was born.

  I fold the paper back up and return it to the envelope, my gaze lifting to find Lucy still relaxing in the water. I consider my options. I should tell her about this presumed brother. Now. But I won’t. She’s fragile. She’s only been with me a few weeks. She’s still finding herself. I don’t want to upset that balance. Besides, it’s possible this Daven guy is a liar. Maybe he’s some guy she once knew who has found out she’s living with me and decided to capitalize on my wealth.

  No. I won’t tell her just yet. I’ll call my PI and have him dig deeper into this man. I want to have more proof he is who he says he is before I tell Lucy. Yes. That’s the best course of action.

  I run a hand over my face and tuck the letter in my pocket. I need to put on a poker face and put the weird correspondence out of my mind for a while.

  I sit forward. “It’s time to get out, blossom.” I hold up the matching mermaid towel that came with the swimsuit.

  “Ah, already?” She stands and looks at me. “The water feels so good.”

  I lift a brow.

  She grumbles as she gets out. I don’t mind this kind of disobedience. In fact, I like it. She doesn’t throw tantrums or refuse to do things, but she does balk when I ask her to stop playing. It’s appropriate for her age. It’s part of the roles we’ve assumed.

  She frowns as she shuffles toward me. “Five more minutes?” she pleads.

  We’ve added this to our game too.

  I shake my head. “Not today, blossom. I have work to do this afternoon, and you know you can’t be in the hot tub alone. It’s not safe.”

  Her shoulders droop. “I’m a big girl, Sir. I won’t drown in the hot tub.”

  “That’s right.” I tap her nose after I’ve gotten her wrapped up in the towel. “You won’t drown because you won’t go near the water without supervision. Understood?”

  She groans. “Yes, Sir.”

  “Good.” I stand and take her hand. “Let’s get you changed. You can play with your toys for a few hours while I work. Julius is coming over. We need to discuss some business.”

  “Okay, Sir.”

  I lead her into the house through the glass doors off the kitchen. She follows me through the kitchen, down the hallway, and up to her room. I’ve decided I enjoy dressing her myself. She’s a bit old for that, but she hasn’t resisted. I don’t do it in the mornings, but sometimes I help dress her after her nap or come into her room before she gets out of her bath.

  The first time I did that, she nearly hit her head on the tub before she saw it was me. I leaned against the vanity and watched her bathe. When she was finished, I dried her off and helped her into her nightie.

  Now, I do that every chance I can get.

  We return to her bedroom. “Let’s get you dressed before you catch a chill.” I pull the towel from her body and finish drying her. After setting it on the arm of the chair, I reach for the top of her swimsuit and lower it down her body. Next, I pick up her panties. She puts her hands on my shoulders. Her nails are green today with little jewels on them.

  She doesn’t lift her foot to step into her panties.

  I tap her ankle. “Lucy.”

  “Maybe we could have sex first?” Her voice is soft, cracking. She takes me by surprise. It’s been a while since she’s asked me to have sex with her.

  I lift my gaze. She’s slightly above me since I’m crouched in front of her naked body. My dick just got harder than it already was. “Is my little girl needy this afternoon?”

  She nods eagerly, as if I’ve offered her ice cream.

  I set her panties down for a moment and slide my hands up her legs and torso until I’m cupping her tits. “I have to work right now, blossom. Julius will be here any minute. But if you’re a really good girl while I meet with him, I’ll see about making you writhe after dinner. Deal?”

  “Will you use your penis?”

  I smile. She doesn’t have to work hard to use appropriate language for her age play because she’s so inexperienced that it’s hardly different from what she would say if she were twenty-two. “I promise my cock will be involved. I don’t think you’re ready for me to put it inside you, blossom, but I’ll let you explore. Okay?”

  She beams. “Yes, Sir.”

  “Good. Now let’s get you dressed quickly before Julius gets here.” She steps into her panties and I pull them up too high, yanking the cotton against her pussy hard enough that it separates her folds.

  She sucks in a breath but says nothing.

  I pull her Hello Kitty T-shirt over her head next. It’s too small. It’s just right. It barely covers her tits and flattens them. I know it drives her crazy that her belly is exposed below the hem and she has to tug on it often to ensure the bottom of her tits don’t show. They don’t, but she worries. She fussed with it all morning. Her nipples were stiff the entire time. I loved it.

  Next, I tap her leg so I can put her jean skirt back on. It’s also too small. It fits around her waist, but her bottom is bigger than a twelve-year-old’s so the pleated skirt doesn’t hang flat against her. It barely covers her panties at the top and the bottom. In fact, right now, her lime green panties are sticking out above the skirt. I leave them.

  I haven’t given her shoes today. It’s Saturday. A little girl wouldn’t put on shoes to run around the house on a Saturday.

  Her braids are damp, but we’ll take them out tonight when she bathes. I’m looking forward to it. I might even get her pliant enough that she lets me bathe her myself. I’ve been wanting to do that for days. Wash her. Set her in the tub and dump water over her head. Run my hands over her body and across her pussy. I want this. It’s younger than her age. Some of the games we play are. She never balks.

  I know we’re blurring the age play a bit at times. Until I see signs that she doesn’t like it, I won’t change my plans. We’ve discussed it in vague terms a few times. She has hard limits when it comes to ages less than five. She shudders at the thought of baby food or bottles or even highchairs and finger foods. The mention of diapers almost had her running from the room. She shook her head so hard it had to hurt.

  I’m fine with that. I don’t care what age she prefers, really. I just want her to be happy and fulfilled.

  I know I’m growing more and more possessive of her. Part of the reason I haven’t had sex with her yet is because it will strip me bare. Bring me to my knees. Make it impossible for me to let her go.

  Mentally my legs have been knocked out from under me because of her. My soul is no longer my own. I live with a certain amount of fear that she might one day change her mind and leave me. It would slay me. So I try to pretend I’m more aloof than that.

  I take a deep breath and shake my maudlin thoughts from my head as we enter my office. I’m holding her hand.

  Chapter 39

  Lucy

  * * *

  Julius is already in Master Roman’s office when we enter, leaning casually back in a chair across from his desk. “About time you showed up, slacker,” he jokes, aiming his barb at Master Roman.

  I grip Master Roman’s hand, self-conscious about my clothes. It’s something that hasn’t changed in two weeks. Part of me worries I will never get over my embarrassment, even in front of people I know to be Doms themselves who have
seen it all. Nothing can shock Julius. I’m aware of this.

  I’ve analyzed and over-analyzed my predicament, and mostly decided that I like the way I get on edge. It might be confusing if I tried to explain it out loud, but the truth is that when I get embarrassed, my heart starts racing and my body comes alive at the same time. The embarrassment is part of my arousal.

  Like now.

  Julius glances up and down my body, making me aware that my breasts are absurdly flattened under the cotton T-shirt and that my panties are sticking out of the top of my skirt because that’s how Master Roman put them and I wasn’t about to adjust my clothes. He might have swatted my hand away. I’ve learned that lesson more than once. If he puts something on me crooked, I keep my mouth shut and leave it. It’s probably intentional.

  My panties are also up in my butt crack and wedged between my labia. I know for a fact that was intentional. He jerked them up that high. It’s the reason they are sticking out of my skirt too. They are lime green and incredibly obvious.

  I fidget, recognizing the symptoms I get every time we are in this position. I’m mortified that someone is seeing me dressed like this, and I’m also aroused. The familiar tight knot in my belly is back. It started to build when Master Roman told me Julius was coming over, and it’s now full on clenching my stomach.

  I’ve learned I like that feeling. I’ve also read enough to know that I’m some kind of exhibitionist. Not the normal kind. I really don’t want anyone but Master Roman to see me naked. But I do like people to stare at me in my flouncy childish outfits that don’t fit my actual age.

  I haven’t been exposed to anyone who isn’t in the lifestyle, of course, nor do I have any interest in something like that yet, but having Claudia, Julius, Beck, Levi, Nancy, Evelyn, and Weston all play along and pretend I’m twelve pushes me to this special place that I secretly love. A place where I’m a combination of embarrassed and aroused because of it. It’s odd. It works for me.