by Becca Little
“What is all this stuff?” I stared at the cart. “What do you intend to do?”
“I know I haven’t been here long and you hardly know me.” He shook his head. “I feel like fate has brought me here in your time of need to heal you.”
“You’re not a doctor.” I insisted with a slight bit of anger in my tone.
“No.” He shook his head again. “I’m not a doctor, but I know what you need. You need to be reborn. You’ve suffered a great loss…”
“Two of them.” I retorted quickly.
“Yes.” He nodded. “Life has a strange way of using our grief to make us stronger. I want you to trust me. I want you to believe in what I must do. I know it is strange, but I can help you get past this.”
“By making me your little girl?” I stared into his eyes, which had a gentle glare of sincerity.
“I’m asking you to trust me.” He put his hand on my knee. “Become my Little Jessy and let me bring you back from this.”
I stared into his calm demeanor and I felt it starting to consume me. He had never given me a reason not to trust him—not really. Hiring people was necessary considering the lack of help I was. Since the moment he came into our lives, he had tried to do his best to help us. Trusting him went against everything I believed in. It was hard to accept him as my savior, but I needed something. My grief had overwhelmed me and if he wasn’t there to take care of things, everything my parents had worked for would have been lost. I let my head fall back onto the pillow as I kept my eyes locked on his.
“Trust me.” His patted my leg. “Please.”
“What do I have to do?” My curiosity was starting to overpower my defiance.
“Just trust me.” His words echoed through the room again. “That is all I ask.”
“Okay.” I was still unsure of his motives, but I felt like it was the only option I had.
He stood up and pulled the covers away, dropping them on the floor at the foot of the bed. His powerful arms lifted me up to a sitting position. I looked up at him in confusion, unsure of what he had planned for me. I looked down at my arms and legs, seeing how pale and gaunt they were in the sunlight. I had never looked that bad. It looked even worse than when I saw myself in the mirror. I could see traces of my veins underneath the skin on my arms, and an outline of bone against my wrists. He reached for my nightgown and started pulling it up my torso.
“What are you doing?” I wrapped my hands around the fabric.
“You have to trust me.” He said as he pushed my hands away.
I felt like I was locked in a battle of wills with him for a moment, but I finally relented. The thin malnourished body underneath my clothes certainly wasn’t one that would have tempted a man. He pulled my gown over my head and dropped it on the floor. I had never been naked in front of a man before, but although I felt exposed, I felt like he was more interested in my wellbeing than my nudity. He helped me off the bed and walked with me as we approached the bathroom. When the door opened, I found a bath waiting. I stared at the water for a moment and then looked at him.
“I can bathe myself.” I pulled my hand from his.
“Let me take care of you.” He reached out for my hand again. “Trust me.”
My hesitations started to fade. John lowered me into the water, and I found that it was warm, despite sitting there for some time. I had to be boiling when he first fixed it. I was thankful it wasn’t another ice-cold bath like the previous one he dumped me in. Once I sank into the water, he picked up a rag and started washing my skin. He washed me gently, occasionally scrubbing when he found a spot that needed some extra attention. He started with my hair, and the feeling of his tough nails on my scalp felt good. I gripped the side of the tub and closed my eyes, feeling an intense sense of comfort in his touch.
“That felt really good…” I muttered as he started washing my shoulders.
His hands were like magic. He washed my shoulders and my arms, before moving into my armpits. They hadn’t got as much attention as they needed when I took a bath on my own. When his hands moved down my stomach and started washing my legs, I felt a tingle between my legs. I had explored the area between my legs, but it didn’t feel as good as his hands moving between my legs and rubbing the cloth against my pussy. I closed my eyes again, feeling the pleasure start to get more intensive as he cleaned me.
“You need a shave.” He stood and picked up a razor.
He knelt beside me and lifted my arm. I had kept myself shaved before I sank into my depression, but hygiene hadn’t been my concern during that time. He applied a soapy later and scraped the hair away with a few quick motions from the razor. After he was done with my armpits, he moved down my legs and quickly shaved them as well. It was nice to have him care for me, even if I was still radiating a bit of uncertainty. The razor moved between my thighs and I shook my head.
“No, I don’t need that shaved.” I started to stand, but he held my leg.
“You’re my Little Jessy now.” He slid a hand between my legs. “This needs to go as well.”
I relented, even in the caution of my discontent. The razor moved across my pussy quickly, erasing the last bit of hair beneath my waist. When it was all gone, he rinsed me off and helped me stand. I stood next to him on the rug as he ran a towel across my body and dried me. The shaved area was slick against his touch, but he made sure I was completely dry before he started drying my hair. He picked up a comb from the counter and started moving it through my tangled locks. Just feeling the edge of the comb against my scalp was nice, so I closed my eyes and ignored the pain every time it got stuck in a knot of hair. When he was done, the comb moved through my hair without any obstacles stopping it.
“You’re ready for the final step.” He took me by the hand and walked me back to my bedroom.
“What’s the final step?” I asked as he picked up a plastic pouch with a long tube attached.
“This will hurt a little bit, but it will cleanse you from the inside out.” He nodded as I looked on with concern.
My mother used to administer her enema anytime she felt like there was an issue it could correct. She believed it cured everything from hay fever to the common cold. Seeing it in John’s hands left me with a bit of uncertainty, but I tried to trust him. He turned me over and put me on all fours, with my bottom facing him. I had never felt more exposed in my life, especially with someone I wasn’t related to. He squeezed some salve onto the end of the nozzle and pushed it on my anus. I flinched as it was inserted, but once was in deep with the tube extending out of it towards the plastic pouch, I felt the same sense of acceptance I had with I was a child.
“The doctor helped me prepare this.” He opened the pouch and started pouring several small vials into it. Once those were in the pouch, he filled it with water and released it to slide down the tube.
The liquid entered my rectum and started to fill me. After a few ounces were inside, I felt myself cramping. I grabbed my stomach, but John massaged it with his fingers as the liquid continued to run down the hose and enter me. After it was done, John removed the hose and pressed a plug into the end of the nozzle. My insides started to churn and I fell forward onto the bed, feeling the nozzle tight in my anus. It wasn’t incredibly uncomfortable, but I could feel the contents of the enema inside of my stomach.
“It burns…” He continued to massage my stomach as I grimaced.
“It’ll be okay.” He let his hand rest on my abdomen. “Just close your eyes and let it work.”
“Why are you doing this?” I groaned as the concoction continued to churn.
“You are my little girl now. I have to take care of you and purge some of this poison you’ve let build inside you.” His words were kind and his touch was gentle.
“This feels like the poison.” I rubbed my stomach.
“It isn’t. Close your eyes and it’ll all be over soon.” I was hesitant, but I finally relented and closed my eyes. “Just hold it.”
After several minutes of holdin
g the horrible substance inside of me, my stomach started to cramp and my abdomen burned. John walked downstairs without giving me any sort of an indicator regarding the time frame. I tried to let it work, I tried to do what he asked, but it was just too much. I couldn’t hold the enema, no matter how hard I tried. I ran to the bathroom and emptied it, and the second I thought everything was gone, another wave came. I felt tense when I heard him walking up the stairs. He stopped at my room and then walked down the hall to the bathroom, pushing the door open.
“You didn’t hold it long enough.” He shook his head. “That was a waste of medicine.”
“I’m sorry. I couldn’t.” I let my eyes try to tell the story of my sorrow and agony.
“I’m very disappointed in you.” He closed the door and walked downstairs.
I felt like a flea crawling on the ground when I heard his words. They cut through me like a knife. I finally got myself together and walked downstairs to find him sitting at the table eating breakfast. I looked out the window and was amazed to see the number of workers that had arrived to help. John had managed to get so much help when we never could. I sat down at the table and stared at him as he ate. I felt my stomach churning with hunger after having the enema. I felt hollow and empty.
“Can I have some breakfast?” I stared at the eggs going into his mouth.
“Sure.” He stood up and walked to the icebox. When he closed the door and turned around, he was holding a baby bottle.
“What’s that for?” He walked back to the table and put it in front of me.
“It is your breakfast. You’re malnourished and practically dehydrated. I want you to get better, and that requires a specialized diet.” He pointed at the bottle to indicate that was the plan.
“I need actual food…” I muttered as I picked it up and stared at it.
“It is real food. It’s a special formula the doctor created. He usually gives it to patients that can’t eat on their own, but it will work well for you too.” He picked up a piece of bacon and crunched on it.
“The doctor knows you’re making me drink from a bottle?” I raised my eyebrows in a perplexed stare.
“Not exactly.” He shook his head. “I added that touch myself.”
When I finally relented and lifted it to my lips, I found that it wasn’t exactly milk I was drinking. It was thicker than that, and the nipple on the top of the bottle had been cut to allow me to drink it. It tasted good, but it was a little strange to drink from the bottle. I was so hungry that I devoured it, feeling my stomach start to fill up once it was inside me. I was no longer hungry, but I didn’t have the same satisfaction as eating. I put it down on the table when he was done with his food.
“Let’s go back upstairs.” He stood and reached for my hand.
I followed him upstairs and he sat me down on the side of the bed. His fingers reached for my gown and I let him remove it. Once it was removed, he picked up a thick piece of cloth and put it on the bed. The cloth looked like underwear, but it was thicker than any I owned. When I ran my fingers across it, I realized it was a diaper. It was the same kind I had seen in my box of memories my mother kept at the foot of my bed. I stared at John as he motioned for me to lay back on the bed.
“You’re going to make me wear a diaper?” My words drew into my lungs in apprehension.
“For a little while.” He nodded. “You’re my little girl now, and that means you start over. You will wear these until your body has healed.”
He slid the diaper underneath me on the bed and fastened it around my waist with a pair of pins. I felt foolish once it was on, especially since it chafed and rubbed against my skin. He helped me back into my dress and I stayed upstairs with him for a while, watching the men work in the fields from my window. He finally left and went outside to tend to things while I looked around for something to occupy my time. The food he had given me in the bottle gave me a new energy, and I didn’t feel like I could just crawl in bed and sleep.
Chapter 7
After a few weeks of eating the special concoction he put in the bottle, my body did start to heal. Everything was normal again and I felt a bit rejuvenated. I was bouncing off the walls with energy, and anxious to get back into the fields and do my chores. I couldn’t believe I was excited by that prospect. Even something simple like gathering eggs in the morning would have been better than staying cooped up in the house. He rolled the cart into my room each morning, changed my diaper, bathed me, and then fed me. He took care of me in every way, just like I really was his little girl.
“It’s time for the enema again.” He walked over to the cart and started mixing something in a bowl.
“Not that…” I shook my head. “It nearly burned my insides out of me last time!”
“It will help you.” He turned around with the nozzle in his fingers.
Even though I knew what to expect, I didn’t even want to try and hold it. The previous one had cramped and hurt so much that I waited until he was gone and ran to the bathroom to expel it. It was my first real act of defiance, but I just couldn’t stand the thought of leaving it inside for any length of time. John walked up the stairs and immediately came to the bathroom, pushing the door open. I could tell by the look on his face that he wasn’t just irritated or disappointed that time—he was angry.
“Let’s go.” He walked over and grabbed me by the arm.
“Where are we going, John?” I protested and tried to pull away, but his grip was too strong.
“We’re going to the woodshed. You’ve been a naughty girl, and it is time I taught you a lesson.” He threw open the front door and walked across the pasture with me firmly in his grasp.
“John! Please don’t do this!” I begged. I hadn’t been taken to the woodshed since I was a little girl and got caught helping myself to an extra piece of pie.
“I believe I specifically told you to call me Daddy.” He continued walking with me being pulled along behind him.
When we got to the woodshed, I cringed when the door was pushed open. Memories of having my father take me out there for a switching resonated in my thoughts. He pulled me inside and slammed the door. It smelled like fresh timber, with quite a bit of wood cut for the coming winter. John picked up several lengths of wood and rolled them in his hand until he found one that was about as thick as my thumb on the end, stretching out several feet to come to a point slightly smaller than the tip of my pinkie. He stripped the branches off until it was smooth, outside of a few lumps along the surface.
“Remove your dress and put both hands on that stack of wood.” He pointed to a stack that would require me to bend at the waist with my hands past my knees.
“I’ll hold the enema.” I backed up. “I don’t need a switching.”
“That is no longer up for discussion. I’ve done nothing but take care of you and you repay me with disobedience?” He shook his head.
“John…” I felt my lips trembling.
“You’ll get extra for not addressing me properly.” He swung the switch in the air.
“D…Daddy.” I formed the words on my tongue. “Please don’t do this.”
“You disobeyed me. What did you think was going to happen?” He pointed towards the pile of wood again.
I had no answer for him. He had shown me kindness and I had repaid him with disobedience. My head sank down into my chest and I took a deep breath, trying to put my thoughts into words. I knew I deserved the switch. I removed my dress and walked over to the stack of wood. I bent down and put my hands on the rigid surface, squeezing it as I thought about the agony my last switching had brought. He walked over and started to remove the pins in the diaper. I wasn’t surprised I was getting it on my bare bottom.
“Since you can’t seem to obey me, I’m going to show you what happens when you don’t.” He removed the diaper and placed it on the wood beside me. “Hopefully you’ll be a little more motivated next time.”
“I’m sorry Daddy…” I felt defeated as I prepared to feel the sting
of the switch’s torment.
He positioned himself behind me and tapped my bottom with the switch. I cringed up the second I felt it, knowing the pain was about to be delivered. I gripped the wood harder, feeling tears welling up in my eyes as the memories of my last time started to roll through my head. I heard the switch swing in the air a few times, and then it came down against my bare flesh. The stinging fire of the switch started with a swish in the air and then a sharp crack as it hit my bottom. It struck hard on impact and then wrapped around, leaving a streak of fire where it landed and a throbbing pain where the tip slung around and landed. He leveled it against my bottom and brought it down several times in quick succession.
“Daddy it hurts!” I squealed. I didn’t even think about calling him that. It was like the words came out naturally without any effort.
“This is what happens to disobedient girls.” The switch came down again.
The tears came quickly. As I leaned over the wood with the switch coming down against my bottom over and over, I began to think about my life and what I had lost. My father would have been ashamed to see me become such a sniveling mess. He would have expected me to become strong like my mother and carry on his legacy with the family farm. My mother would have just been angry. Both of them would have taken me straight to the woodshed like my new Daddy was doing if they caught me behaving like a ridiculous child in their absence.
I wasn’t raised to wallow in heartache and let sadness swallow me. I was supposed to be a rock, able to stand up to anything and even walk through fire if the moment called for it. In that moment, the fire was coming in the form of the swinging switch, echoing throughout the woodshed with a steady rhythm as my punishment continued. I twisted my hips, keeping my hands in place, but nothing kept it from finding the mark on my bottom. His height made it come down at an angle, wrapping around my bottom and stinging the tender area where my thighs began. I started to sob as the same areas were punished again and again.