by Becca Little
“If you pull that off your belt, I’ll shove it up your ass so far you can’t walk, and then I’ll make you eat it.” I got to the desk and his hand relaxed.
“Hey, Mr. Bradford. Come on, sir. I…” He took a step back.
“Is there a problem here?” Footsteps echoed in the hallway and I turned to see Charles.
“You’re damn right there is a problem.” I turned towards him. “You told me everything that happens here in consensual. You told me these girls are happy to trade favors to avoid punishment.”
“They are…” He tilted his head.
“Then why did your guard try to have his way with Bianca?” I pointed at the guard.
“Hernandez?” Charles looked at him with shock on his face. “What is he talking about?”
“I don’t know what he’s talking about, sir. She wanted it! She said she was craving a cock!” Hernandez’s words were hurried and soaked with lies.
“It sounds like there is just a misunderstanding here.” Charles smiled. “I’m sure Hernandez can find another willing young lady to help him out when he’s feeling a little tense—we all feel that way sometimes.”
“So, you’re condoning rape? You’re telling me you are okay with the guards fucking the girls?” I clenched my fists.
“It’s complicated.” Charles said.
“I’ll show you complicated.” I pulled my phone from my pocket. “I’m shutting this place down.”
“No! You can’t do that!” Charles’ face suddenly became tight with concern.
“I got him boss.” Hernandez grabbed me from behind and wrapped his arms around me.
“Let him go, you idiot!” Charles shook his head rapidly.
The second Hernandez released me, I spun around slammed my fist into his skull. His nose erupted with blood and I felt bones shatter underneath my knuckles. He spun around in a circle and hit the ground hard, not moving at all when his thick frame collapsed to the concrete. I saw other guards filling the hallway, but they didn’t advance on us. Charles held his hands up, trying to calm me down. I took a step towards him with my blood-covered fist cocked and he cowered, taking a step back and moving his hands in front of his face.
“Sloane, don’t.” His voice cracked. “You don’t understand. This place is doing a lot of good work. We must make compromises to keep it going. Yeah, some of the wealthy contributors want to spend time with their girls in a different way than our grandfather envisioned, but we make those compromises to keep getting their donations. Do the guards find girls that are willing to hook up with them—yeah, they do. Obviously, Hernandez should not have tried to force himself on Bianca, but I can deal with that internally. You don’t have to shut down the Institute because of one guard’s mistake.”
“I’m not shutting it down because of a guard’s mistake. I’m shutting it down because of your mistakes. You let this happen. You let all of this happen.” I shook my head and relaxed my fist. “I’m taking Bianca with me. I don’t trust you to keep her safe. I would advise you to get on the phone and let all your investors know they won’t be visiting this place anymore after tomorrow. You start with Congressman Chambers—he’s apparently here on vacation.” I pushed past Charles and walked back towards Bianca’s room.
Chapter 13 — Bianca
I stood up as I heard Daddy say I was going to be leaving with him. That was not the reaction the guard thought he would have if I told him. I let a breath of relief escape me and I was thankful he had kept pushing until I told him the truth. He walked into the room, took me by the hand, and walked towards the door. When we got into the hallway, I saw Hernandez picking himself up off the floor, holding his nose with his hand. Charles Bradford, the man I had met when I arrived was tense and looked nervous. Several other doors had opened with both men and women peering out into the hallway. None of them looked very happy when they saw us.
“You can’t walk out of her with her like that.” Charles stepped forward. “She’s still a prisoner. She’s a ward of the Bradford Institution. If she goes anywhere from here, it is jail.”
“Fucking try to stop me.” Daddy took a step towards him and Charles cowered back. “That’s what I thought.”
The guards parted like the red sea as we approached. Some of them looked angry and some of them just looked scared. Daddy walked straight towards the door and pushed it open. I stepped into the sunlight and covered my eyes for a moment. He hurried me towards a helicopter and I climbed inside. I had never ridden in one before and I had only flown once—it terrified me. He put some sort of sound silencing headphones around my ears and then the helicopter started to lift off the ground. I watched until the Bradford Institute was out of sight. We soared through the sky, but we didn’t head towards the city. He said something to the pilot and he took a sharp turn towards the countryside. After another hour, the helicopter landed next to a large mansion.
“Is this your house?” I asked as helped me out of the helicopter.
“It’s one of my houses. I come here when I want to get away from the world.” He waved to the helicopter pilot and the blades started to spin again.
He opened the front door and I marveled at the interior. It had high ceilings, several works of art adorning the walls, and even a few statutes. The decor seemed to be a mixture of renaissance and medieval, with modern conveniences everywhere I looked. It was way better than the Bradford Institute, and clearly better than prison. I smiled when I looked over at him, but I saw his face was tense.
“You’re still a prisoner.” He folded his arms. “Just because I removed you from the Bradford Institute doesn’t mean your punishment is over. You will spend the rest of your sentence here, and I will still personally tend to your rehabilitation as your Daddy.”
“That is what I signed up for.” I nodded. “I’m fine with fulfilling my end of the agreement, regardless of where I spend my time.”
“I’m glad to hear that.” He smiled and walked over, pulling me into a hug.
I felt safe in his arms. He had earned my trust like nobody else had ever managed to earn it before. What the guard said was scary and I believed my Daddy would sacrifice me to avoid a scandal. After seeing how he handled things with the guard and his willingness to stop at nothing to protect me, I would have followed him anywhere. My mind started to drift to the other girls at the Bradford Institute. I wondered if they would all go to jail, or if they would find someone to care about them. I suddenly felt a panic in my stomach—Rebecca. I pulled away from his embrace and looked up at him.
“Daddy, can I ask you for one more favor?” I felt terrible having to ask, but I couldn’t abandon Rebecca.
“What is it?” He looked down at me, still holding his arms around my waist.
“My friend, Rebecca. She had nothing to do with my decision to steal from the company. She knew, but she was nothing more than a spectator. The guards at the prison took her into custody earlier and said she would be charged as an accomplice.” I chewed my lip nervously. “Please don’t press charges against her.”
“The District Attorney said he was still going to follow up on a few leads. I’m not going to promise you anything until I hear what he has to say, but let me make a call.” He walked into a room next to me and closed the door.
After he was behind the closed door, I walked into the kitchen and fixed a glass of water. My throat was parched after the helicopter ride. I wandered around the house, taking in the beauty of everything around me. The house was perfect, with almost everything I could ever dream of. There was a game room with a pool table and it opened to an enormous indoor swimming pool. I walked back to the main part of the house where I saw a full bar, a dining room with a table big enough to seat at least a dozen people, and a room to the right with a library. I heard the door to the room he entered open, so I walked back towards him.
“Okay, so they recorded your conversation at the Bradford Institute.” He sighed. “I convinced him that it wasn’t worth pursuing. You two didn’t really say an
ything that would implicate her as an actual accomplice without creative spinning at trial.”
“Thank you!” I ran over and hugged him again.
“You’re welcome. Don’t think you get to ask me for favors every day though.” His brow arched, but his lips were slightly turned up in a smile.
“I won’t. I promise.” I hugged him tighter.
“Let me show you to your room. It’s temporary, but you’ll sleep there tonight.” He took me by the hand and we walked upstairs.
The room designated to be mine was remarkable. It had a huge king size bed, a large bathroom with a jacuzzi tub, and the closets were almost as big as my old apartment. The same decorations I saw downstairs carried over into the room with large paintings on the wall, several marble busts of people I surmised were famous, and an ominous looking suit of armor in the corner. It was a huge improvement over the accommodations I had at the Bradford Institute. The only real problem was the fact there was nothing to wear in the whole room. At least I did have a change of clothes at the Bradford Institute. He walked up behind me as I started opening drawers.
“I’ll have some clothes delivered tomorrow. Just sleep in your dress tonight.” He turned me towards him. “I’m not going to spank you tonight, because I think you’ve been through enough for one day, but your rehabilitation officially begins tomorrow. This will be different than the Bradford Institute. You will not only be punished, but you will live your life as my Little Bianca.”
“What does that mean?” I raised my eyebrows and looked up at him.
“You’ll find out tomorrow. Come back downstairs and I’ll make you some dinner.” He took me by the hand and we walked back towards the stairs.
I had no idea what living my life as his Little Bianca meant. After everything that happened, I trusted him, so I tried to let the lingering worry go. He had been extremely kind to me. Not only had he taken me away from danger at the Bradford Institute, but he had also saved Rebecca from prison. There wasn’t much fresh food in the kitchen, but he was able to put together a nice meal with some frozen chicken and a can of green beans. It was still healthier than most of the stuff I ate. After dinner, he took me upstairs and tucked me into bed. When the door closed, I stared at the ceiling wondering about my life going forward. I was nervous about being spanked and nervous about being punished in other ways—especially after what I had seen at the Bradford Institute.
Chapter 14 — Sloane
After Bianca was in bed, I went back downstairs to the office I used when I stayed at my retreat. I had been so busy at the office, I rarely got a chance to even spend a weekend away from the city. The house was one of several that belonged to my grandfather and although it wasn’t as big as some of his other houses, it brought back a lot of fond memories. Charles was happy to take a more expensive house when our grandfather passed and he immediately sold it. I was content having the mountain retreat. I tapped some keys on the computer and picked up my phone. I was going to have to make a very difficult call, and it made my stomach turn.
“Hello? Mr. Bradford?” I heard John’s voice on the other end of the phone.
“Hey, are you still at the office?” I started loading up my work email while we spoke.
“I am, yes sir. What can I do for you?” I wasn’t surprised to find him still at the office, especially since I left him in charge.
“I want you to pull our funding for the Bradford Institute and tomorrow, I want you to send the press release I’m typing out to all the major media outlets.” I opened a new email and started typing.
“Sir, are you sure? That’s one of our biggest tax breaks and it keeps the money in the family.” He sounded confused.
“I know. This isn’t easy, but you’ll understand when you read the press release.” I let out a sigh.
“Yes sir.” I disconnected the call after I got his confirmation.
I started typing the press release, feeling each keystroke harder than the previous one. I was about to bury Charles, someone I used to respect more than anyone else. I admired his dedication to the Bradford Institute, and I thought he was devoted to the same philosophy our grandfather had, but it was clear that he had lost his way. I couldn’t allow my money to fund a brothel, whether the girls were willing or not. I was about to make a lot of enemies. It wouldn’t just be Charles that was ruined when the press release hit the airwaves. My reputation would take a hit and all the people who contributed of the Bradford Institute would come under scrutiny.
“Fuck…” I said out loud as I stared at the screen.
It was harder than I thought, trying to put it into words. I walked out of the office and poured a glass of whiskey. My grandfather’s humidor was still silently humming along after many, many years. I opened the top and took out one of his aged cigars. It still smelled sweet, like the smell I remembered in the air when I was a kid. I wasn’t one to have a cigar very often, but I was feeling stressed and they always helped with that. I lit it and carried my drink back to the office. I sat down behind the computer again, staring at the screen. All I had really typed was a line filled with regret. I hadn’t even gotten to the important parts yet. I tapped ashes from the end of my cigar and let it rest in the ashtray and after taking a sip from my drink, I tried to formulate the thoughts in my head.
“Okay…” I sighed and shook my head. “I have to do this.”
I finally got to work, typing out exactly what I wanted to say. I explained that the integrity of the Bradford Institute had been compromised and it was no longer the haven for rehabilitation my grandfather envisioned. I laid out my plans to discontinue funding and work towards a dissolution of the Institution by the end of the year. I hoped that would give more of the young women a chance to finish their sentence at the Institute, instead of being forced to go to prison, but that would be inevitable for some. Since Charles technically ran the charity we housed the Institute under, I couldn’t fire him, but I did call for his immediate resignation. I hoped the story would create enough buzz that it would cause the other contributors, especially the politicians, to immediately sever ties with the Institution. Without funding, the charity and the Institution were done. Even if the charity managed to find a few wealthy contributors that didn’t care about being associated with it, Charles wouldn’t have enough funding to keep going without Bradford International paying most of the bills.
“Here we go…” I picked up my cigar and took a long drag. “Let’s watch the world burn.”
Even after I sent the email, I didn’t feel relief. I felt sick. I had done the right thing, but I was crushing out my grandfather’s vision. I loaded up some of the files on the computer that were digital archives of his writing. I scrolled through the techniques he laid out, the methods he used, and several records of success. His wife was the first one that underwent his strict regiment, becoming his Little Nancy. There were no records of what happened between them or how it was carried out, but they always seemed to be very happy. My grandfather’s notes were very detailed. He laid out how to punish with your hand, a cane, a switch, a paddle, and even leather. He listed out alternative punishments that could be used like enemas, cuffs, chastity belts, and various methods of stretching the anus.
At the core of his philosophy was the safety of the woman who were regressed to the status of a little girl during the rehabilitation. He drew a thick line in the concrete between rehabilitation, punishment and actual abuse. Some that had studied his methods, especially those that opposed the Bradford Institute, believed they were all methods of abuse. The view of society was mixed but the grassroots movement that believed domestic discipline served a specific purpose after witnessing generations raised without it were the fiercest supporters of the Bradford Institute. While we didn’t reduce the young women to little girls while they stayed there, we kept the core philosophy and a lot of the same traditions alive. Assigning a young woman to a man who would serve as her Daddy basically accomplished the same thing.
I puffed my cigar and star
ed at the ceiling. I had to make several arrangements to get the house ready for Bianca’s rehabilitation and her life as Little Bianca. Most of the stuff I needed was upstairs in a room that had been converted to an adult nursery of sorts, but I still needed groceries and she needed clothes. I wouldn’t have time to get her anything tailored, but I could get some generic stuff from the supplier that made the dresses for the Bradford Institute. Groceries were as simple as going online and scheduling a delivery, so I started that process, even though I was so tired my eyes were heavy. I filled the basket with everything I needed and schedule it to arrive early the next morning. Even though it could have waited until the I had some sleep for my weary eyes, I went ahead and sent a request to the distributor to get clothes sent to the house as well.
Chapter 15 — Bianca
I woke up the next morning to see my door open and Daddy watching me from the doorway. I sat up and rubbed my eyes as I tried to remember where I was. The events of the previous day quickly started to flood through my head as I sat up in bed. The dress had become tangled during the night, so I twisted it back into place and slid to the edge of the bed. I felt like I was well rested, but the bed was so comfortable I didn’t want to leave it. Daddy walked over and extended a hand to help me stand.
“Good morning, Little Bianca.” He smiled as I stood to my feet.
“Good morning, Daddy.” It still felt strange to say it, but I was getting used to it.
“Let’s have breakfast and then we’ll talk.” He held my hand and we walked down the stairs.
It appeared that groceries had been delivered before I even woke up. There was fresh fruit on the counter, the fridge was full, and breakfast was a gigantic spread. I piled pancakes, sausage, bacon, eggs, and biscuits on my plate. Once I had them on my plate, I found that my eyes were bigger than my stomach, but I tried to eat as much as I could to avoid wasting the food. He had made enough to serve an army, so it seemed like some of it was going to be wasted regardless. Once we were done, we left our plates on the table and he took me into the living room. I felt dirty after the events of the previous day and not having a shower, especially when I sat down on his couch that was pristine white.