Daddy's Here

by Lucy Wild

  “To the nursery,” he replied, pushing open a door and stepping inside.

  Abbey couldn’t take anymore. She had been tired when awoken, terrified by the insanity of the village trial, beaten by her guards and dragged in her dressing gown through the cold of the morning to this dark house and the sight of the nursery tipped her over the edge. The sight of a cot next to a changing mat, a pile of nappies besides a tray of dummies, all of it surrounded by light pink walls and murals of smiling dolls, it was too much. She burst into tears, sobbing her heart out as the man let go of her hand and turned to look at her, frowning as he did so. “That’s good,” he grinned. “Get that out of the way now and then we’ll carry on.”

  “You monster,” she replied, glaring up at him through a fog of tears, hardly able to breathe.

  “Because crocodile tears have no effect on me? Because I think misbehaviour warrants punishment? There are many monsters you will meet in life if that is the case.”

  He took a step towards her and Abbey tried to run. She had barely leaned towards the door before he grabbed hold of her, bringing her close enough to his face for her to see the dark glint in his eyes, the sharpness of his teeth as his grin grew wider, the longer she looked, the less there seemed any humour in that grin, just power, cold, dark, power.

  “I am your Papa until I see fit to release you. I don’t care about your past actions. I care only about your future. Now take a look around you. This room will be your home for the next twenty-four hours. Behave and you’ll gain access to the playroom.”

  “This nursery? You are going to keep me in here?” Abbey cursed herself for the weakness of her voice but with his hand digging into her arm and his eyes boring into hers, she was more scared than she’d ever been in her life. He could do anything to her and she would be unable to do a thing about it. “You’re kidnapping me?”

  “Don’t be so melodramatic. You are being punished for your crimes. Mark my words, if you behave, you will leave the nursery quickly. If you do not, you will be here for some considerable time. It makes no difference to me.”

  “I’m leaving.” She tried to free herself from his grip but he leaned closer, so close she could feel his breath on her.

  “You are going to do what you’re told, starting right now.”

  “Or what?” Abbey regretted the words as soon as they were out of her mouth but something about that grin made her want to defy him, anything to stop him smiling.

  “Or things like this will happen.”

  Abbey was about to ask what he meant when he suddenly pulled her towards him, grabbing her round the waist and pressing her against him.

  “Don’t,” she began and he just laughed. “Not again, please.”

  “Don’t what? Don’t fuck you? There’s no need to worry about that. You don’t need fucking, despite your feeble attempts to seduce me. What you need is disciplining.”

  “Disciplining?”

  “Like this,” he replied, twisting her over his leg as he sank back into the chair behind him. Abbey fell over his legs, her hands brushing the floor, her head by his shins, only his hand stopping her from slipping forwards and off him.

  “What are you doing?” she managed to ask as he grabbed her dressing gown and pulled it upwards. She felt his eyes on her legs as she kicked out and tried to free herself. Underneath the gown, she wore grey silken shorts and vest, the only night attire she’d been able to find in the pile of cases and boxes dumped in the house. Somewhere, her clothes were buried but she had not had time to find them before the villagers had come to drag her out of her new home.

  He wrenched the shorts down to her thighs, exposing her rear to his gaze as she fought to free herself. “Let me go.”

  “Feel free to cry again,” he replied, his hand slapping down on her rear. “If it makes you feel any better, you can scream too. That’s it, just like that.”

  Abbey did scream. She cried out until she was hoarse but no one came to help. His hand slapped down on her bottom again and again, sending a heat burning through her that was matched by the heat of her shame, the feel of being so exposed and so helpless. It wasn’t just the pain of his spanking, it was the fact that he seemed to be enjoying it, pressing her down against his lap and humming to himself, as if it was just another mundane chore but one he was rather partial to carrying out.

  “Please,” she muttered as his hand slammed down on her buttocks yet again. “Please stop.”

  “Not yet,” he replied, his hand moving down so the next blows struck the tops of her thighs. “You are not quite red enough for my liking.”

  “Oh for the love of God, please stop. It hurts so much.”

  “It is supposed to. Next time you think about misbehaving, I want you to remember today, remember this moment, remember how this feels.”

  He was mad. It was the only explanation. She had been handed over to a madman and there was nothing she could do to escape until he let go of her. Having had control of her own life since her mother died, Abbey was not used to someone else making the decisions, deciding what would happen to her. She felt scared and tired and in pain and ashamed all at once and underlying it all was the sense of injustice. She did not deserve this.

  “There,” he said at last, his hand sliding over her rear, the tortured nerve endings so sensitive she could feel every ridge of his skin and her own. “That’s better. You look good with a little red to your cheeks.”

  “You brute,” she said when he lifted her to her feet. She yanked up her shorts, wrapping the gown around her as her legs gave way and she fell to the floor.

  “You might be a bit wobbly,” he said. “Always happens the first time. I’m guessing you’ve not been spanked before.”

  Abbey’s face flickered just long enough for him to frown and look at her closely. “Oh, you have? I’m surprised. Who was it? Your father?”

  “My mother,” Abbey whispered, not even sure why he deserved an answer.

  “When you were very small, I presume?”

  Abbey nodded.

  “Well, what happens here will be quite different to the spankings of a babe in arms. Trust me on that one.”

  “What…what does happen here?”

  “I look after little girls like you.”

  Chapter Six

  When Papa told Abbey to lay on her back, she did as he asked. She didn’t think she had much choice. He was towering over her on the nursery floor and he looked so large, she felt he could probably squash her flat if he chose to put those boots of his on her. But he didn’t crush her. Instead his smile filled with warmth as she rolled onto her back and looked up at him, fear filling her at the sight of his joy. “What are you going to do to me?” she asked, her hands automatically folding across her chest.

  “I’ve already told you, your Papa isn’t going to do anything like that. I’m here to teach you how to be a grown up.”

  “By spanking me?”

  “Not just that. First, I make you little, then I mould you into the right sort of big.”

  “You make me little?”

  “Exactly?”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Well first of all, I’m going to take your clothes off you.” He ignored her sharp intake of breath. “Then I’m going to shave you, powder you, put a nappy on you, give you a dummy and then put you to bed.”

  Abbey reeled as his words sank in. “You’re what?”

  “You heard me. Now let’s begin, shall we?”

  “No, please,” she muttered as he reached for her dressing gown cord. She tried to push his hands away but he ignored her, taking the cord and untying it, pulling the two halves apart to reveal her night attire. “Looks expensive,” he said, her hands still fighting his. “It would be a shame to have to rip it off you but if you don’t stop fighting me, I will.”

  Abbey’s hands fell slowly away from his. “Please,” she muttered again. “Don’t do this.”

  “You do not make the decisions anymore,” he said, pulling her arms s
o she was forced into a sitting position. He slid the gown from her shoulders as she looked up at him, willing him to stop. He might have said he wasn’t going to fuck her, but what was he going to do? As he took hold of her vest and slid it up over her chest, she tried to stop him, hearing the ripping sound of it being torn in half a second later. “That was your own fault,” he said, tossing the vest aside and shoving her in the chest, pushing her back down to the ground.

  The touch of his fingers near her left breast as he pushed her made Abbey quake with fear. That was nothing compared to the turmoil of emotions that ran through her as he took hold of her shorts and slid them slowly down her legs, putting them aside with her dressing gown before glancing down at her body. “Keep still,” he said as her hands went to cover herself. “Arms by your side and keep them there.”

  “Please, let me go.”

  “You can go when you’ve learned your lesson. Now legs apart for me, bend your knees a little, that’s it.”

  Abbey felt like she was stuck in the middle of the world’s most obscene medical examination. He was staring between her legs. “Looks like I don’t need to shave you,” he said. “That’s good, little Abbey. It’ll make this part quicker.”

  Abbey glanced down at him. “What’s that?” she asked, staring at the tub in his hand.

  “Just some powder to stop you getting a rash.”

  “Powder? What kind of powder?” She didn’t even care. It was as if asking questions was her only way of maintaining any semblance of control, stopping her mind from breaking in two completely.

  “Baby powder,” he said, unscrewing the lid.

  “But I’m not a baby.”

  “Ever used baby oil?”

  “That’s not the point.”

  “Not everything made for babies has to be used just for them. You’re my little while you’re here and littles have powder put on them before they wear nappies.”

  “You’re not serious about the nappy?”

  “No more questions. You’re starting to annoy me. Now keep still and this’ll soon be over.”

  He shook the tub over her hips and white powder floated down through the air, landing on her skin in a soft blanket. Setting the tub down beside him, he began rubbing the powder into her, starting at her hips and moving slowly down towards the tops of her legs.

  “Why are you doing this to me?” she asked, shuffling on the spot as his hands moved towards the top of her thighs.

  “Because you’ve been naughty,” he replied, pushing her legs apart as she tried to press her thighs together. His fingers slid along the creases at the very tops of her thighs, moving down and around to the arc of her buttocks, pressing powder into the valley of her bottom, sliding back up and then around either side of her pussy.

  Abbey froze when he touched the soft folds of her pussy, the feel of his fingers sliding over her making her body tense up and her mind go into overdrive. She wanted to scream, she wanted to run, she wanted to punch him and call the police and do anything to stop this. But she didn’t do any of that. Instead she lay perfectly still and tried to control her breathing as his fingers moved together and began rubbing the last of the powder over the top of her pussy, pressing a little harder when he was near her clit, as if aware that doing so was taking all the control away from her, showing her just how much power her had over her in that moment.

  “Now the cream,” he said, reaching for another tub. “Nearly done.”

  His hands travelled in the same path, sliding cooling lotion into her skin. By the time he reached her pussy again, she felt as if she were floating above herself, looking down on what was happening. But then he brushed over her clit with the cream and his touch was so tender and soft that despite her fear, she sank back into her body. He touched her there again and then his finger slid down towards her entrance and as it did so two feelings hit her at once. One was arousal and the other was guilt. She didn’t move, she didn’t react, she didn’t say anything but the touch of his finger sliding back up to her clit turned her on more than she would have ever thought possible. At the same time a tidal wave of shame washed over her. She couldn’t get turned on by such a touch. She shouldn’t get turned on by it. It was wrong. It was all wrong.

  She was still getting over the shock of her reaction when he brandished the nappy before her. It was adult sized though covered in images of dolls and it crinkled as he pulled it open, lifting her legs with one hand to push it under her behind.

  “You’re not serious about this?” she asked as he pulled the bottom of the nappy up between her legs, pressing the sides in place before sitting back and smiling.

  “There,” he said. “Does that answer your question?”

  He held out a hand and she put hers in his, watching it swallow her fingers as he lifted her to her feet. She stood in only the nappy and felt utterly ashamed as he pushed a dummy into her mouth in a motion that was almost tender in its gentleness. “Now into bed,” he said, lifting her up and placing her down inside the cot. He lowered the side enough to place a blanket over her, stroking her forehead as she blinked up at him, feeling her eyes closing, a gentle lullaby playing from hidden speakers. “You don’t need to worry about anything anymore, little Abbey,” he whispered, still stroking her forehead. “Your Papa will look after you from now on. You just rest a little. You must be very tired.”

  Abbey wanted to spit out the dummy and run but even as the thought of escape flashed through her mind, her eyes began to close. It might have been the overbearing heat of the room or the soft tinkle of the lullaby but whatever it was, it had the desired effect and in under a minute she was fast asleep, her last thought coming in the shape of a question, a question that came from nowhere. She wondered what it would feel like if her new Papa were to kiss her.

  Chapter Seven

  Abbey woke up in desperate need of the toilet. She had no idea how long she had slept for, only that her bladder was in absolute agony. She sat up, confused for a moment as she tried to work out where on earth she was. The dummy had fallen from her mouth and the sight of it on the blanket brought everything flooding back to her.

  The nappy rustled and rubbed against her skin as she stood up and tried to climb out of the cot. The sides were just too high. “Hey,” she called out. “You out there. I need the bathroom!” There was no response. “Papa!” she shouted. “Papa, please let me out.”

  The door to the nursery opened and there he was, smiling in at her. “I’m glad you called me Papa,” he said, taking slow steps towards her. “It takes some of my littles a long time to learn the right name for me. Did you sleep well?”

  “Please let me out,” Abbey said, squirming on the spot. “I really need the bathroom.”

  “Is that all?”

  “What do you mean, is that all? Let me out of here.”

  “Little Abbey, you really aren’t all that bright, are you?”

  “I’m going to wet myself if you don’t let me out.”

  He shrugged. “You’re in a nappy.”

  “You don’t expect me to go in this?”

  “Where else?”

  “The bathroom like a normal human being.”

  “But you’re not a normal human being. Not while you’re in this house. You’re my little and littles go in nappies.”

  Abbey almost screamed as a twinge of pain flashed through her. She needed to go, right now. “Please don’t make me go in the nappy.”

  He sighed. “I suppose you could use the potty but why should I let you?”

  “Because I want to.”

  “You little brat. That’s not an answer. Why should I let you use the potty?”

  “Because…because I want to be a grown up.”

  “Well, I suppose just this once.” He unhooked the side of cot and lowered the bars, watching as she jumped down.

  “Thank you, thank you,” she said, running over to the porcelain potty which sat beside the changing mat. “What are you doing?”

  “Waiting for you to finish
,” he replied, folding his arms and leaning back against the wall behind him.

  “You don’t mean to watch me?”

  “I am in charge of your life now, little Abbey. It is a Papa’s job to keep an eye on his littles. Get used to it.”

  “You can’t watch me.”

  “I can and I will. Now you have to make an important decision. Either remain little and use the nappy or start to grow and use the potty. You are nowhere near grown up enough to be trusted in the bathroom yet.”

  “Oh, God,” Abbey said, squirming on the spot as the pressure inside her continued to grow.

  “Your choice,” Papa said, looking as smug as ever. He didn’t feel the pain she did, he didn’t care about how ashamed she was, how awful it was to be watched whilst she almost lost control of her body.

  “Please.”

  “You don’t leave this room until I say so. The sooner you make a choice, the sooner it’ll be over.”

  “Oh no,” Abbey muttered as she felt an unstoppable pain starting to spread through her. A warmth simultaneously leaked out onto her pussy and at the first sensation of it, she squeezed every muscle inside her, tearing off the nappy and squatting down on the potty.

  Almost at once she began to relieve herself, the hissing sound filling the air as she looked pointedly at the floor, refusing to move her eyes towards him, knowing he was staring at her. It was just so humiliating.

  “Good little girl,” he said, walking across to pat the top of her head.

  “I’m not a dog,” she snapped, the ache in her body slowly subsiding.

  “You are vicious though,” he replied with a chuckle. “It’s a wonder you haven’t bitten me yet. Now hurry up, I’ve got something to show you.”

  She barely had time to finish before he told her to lie down on the changing mat. She did as he asked, only too aware of her nakedness as he applied another dose of powder between her legs. As his hands rubbed it in, the familiar self loathing grew, a hatred for him that somehow she was able to separate from the physical sensation between her legs. The touch of his fingers on her pussy when he applied the cream made her shudder, something she told herself was just the cold air in the nursery.