Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 67320 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67320 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
The matter-of-fact way he referred to my private parts made me cringe. The shameful heat building between my legs just kept growing, though, as his fingers continued their skilled manipulation.
“Tell me something, Little Lulu,” he said casually, never pausing the rhythmic movement of his hand. “Are you upset that I’m blaming you for wetting your diaper when you clearly had no choice? When I deliberately left you here knowing you’d need to go?”
I froze, unsure how to answer. Was this a trick question? If I said no, would I be admitting I deserved the humiliation? If I said yes, would he punish me for questioning him?
“Of course I’m mad,” I finally replied, my voice small but defiant. “It’s completely unfair. You set me up to fail. No one even told me I was supposed to hold it in.”
A slow smile spread across his face, and I realized with a sinking feeling that I’d given him exactly the response he wanted.
“It’s very important,” he said, pressing his fingers deeper inside me, “that Little Lulu learns that her daddy will decide what happens to her. Especially to her body.” His thumb circled my clit with devastating precision. “And most especially to her little pussy and her little bottom.”
The shame that washed over me was overwhelming—not because of what he was saying, but because of how my body was responding to it. I was mortified to realize I was more aroused than I’d ever been in my life. The idea that I had a strict daddy who made rules for me, who controlled my body, who was deliberately unfair because he wanted to degrade me, was sending electric pulses of pleasure straight to my core.
“Please,” I gasped, no longer able to resist the building pressure. My hips moved of their own accord, seeking more contact with his hand.
“Please what?” he asked, slowing his movements to a torturous pace.
“Please, Daddy,” I begged, past caring about dignity now. “Please fuck me.”
His eyes darkened with satisfaction and his lips curved into a smile that made my tummy flip. “No, Little Lulu. Not yet. There’s a very important rule you need to learn.”
He moved his huge hands to the backs of my knees. I whimpered as he pushed them even further back and even further apart, spreading me and exposing me completely to his eyes. My bound hands rose instinctively from the covers behind my head and moved to cover myself, but Jax growled, “Don’t you dare cover yourself, bad girl. Daddy gets to see whatever he wants. What Daddy sees now is a very fuckable pussy, but it’s not going to get fucked tonight, because bad girls only get fucked with a sore bottom and I’m too tired to punish you properly tonight.”
The rule. The very important rule. I couldn’t suppress a helpless sob of need as I absorbed it.
Bad girls only get fucked with a sore bottom.
“Don’t worry,” he continued, his smile widening. “I’m going to spank you and fuck you first thing in the morning, once I’ve shaved this pussy bare.”
A shiver ran through me that I couldn’t suppress—part fear, part shameful anticipation. The way he said it—so matter-of-fact, as if my consent wasn’t even a consideration—made my heart pound against my ribs.
“Until then,” he said, reaching for a fresh diaper, “this will keep my little girl dry through the night.”
I watched in silent humiliation as he expertly positioned the thick padding beneath me, sprinkled more of that infantilizing powder between my legs, and Velcroed the diaper snugly around my hips. The feel of the thick fabric as he smoothed it into place made my cheeks burn.
“Arms up,” he instructed, moving to a dresser across the room.
I obeyed without thinking, raising my bound wrists above my head. Jax returned with a pink nightgown made of some soft, silky material. With surprising gentleness, he first unclipped my wrists, then guided the nightgown over my head and helped my arms through the sleeves. The garment fell just to my thighs, too short to hide the bulky diaper underneath.
“Beautiful,” he murmured, stepping back to admire his handiwork. His eyes traveled slowly from my face down to my diapered bottom, and the approval in his gaze made something flutter in my stomach.
He reattached my wrists to each other, and then to the bedpost, checking that the restraints were secure, but not painfully tight. Then, without warning, he began to undress.
I looked away quickly, but not before catching a glimpse of his broad chest as he unbuttoned his shirt. The rustle of clothing being removed filled the silence between us. I kept my eyes fixed on the ceiling, trying to ignore the sounds of him preparing for bed.
The mattress dipped as he slid under the covers beside me. I tensed, expecting… I wasn’t sure what. Some kind of sexual assault, despite his promise to wait until morning. Instead, his strong arms encircled me from behind, pulling me against his chest in a position that reminded me of how a father might hold a child.