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)
But even as I mentally repeated these assertions, I couldn’t ignore the pulse of arousal that throbbed between my legs at the thought of Jax bathing me, touching me, controlling me.
“Let’s get those restraints off,” he said, reaching for my bound wrists. “But I expect perfect behavior. Any attempt to fight me or run will result in consequences far more severe than what you already have coming.”
As he released my wrists, I flexed my fingers, enjoying the return of full mobility. The pink cuffs remained around my wrists, but at least they weren’t attached to anything now. I considered my options. The bedroom door wasn’t that far away. If I made a run for it…
“Stand up,” Jax said. “It’s time to go to the bathroom.”
As I stood there in the diaper and childish nightgown, with my wrists still encircled by the pink cuffs, a moment of clarity suddenly cut through the fog of confusion and arousal. I needed to be smart about this. Fighting him physically wasn’t going to work—he was twice my size and clearly had resources I couldn’t begin to imagine. But if I played along, gained his trust…
I could gather evidence. Names. Locations. Everything I’d need to bring down this entire operation—Jax, Walker, Charlie, all of them. They’d trafficked a human being. They’d imprisoned me. These were serious crimes, and even if I had to admit to my own involvement in Charlie’s drug business, the consequences for me would be minor compared to what these men would face.
Probation for me, maybe. Community service. I’d been a college student before everything fell apart—surely the courts would see that I could get my life back on track with the right rehabilitation program. I might even qualify for witness protection if this went as deep as I suspected.
But a small voice in my head warned me about the danger of this plan. Not physical danger—something far more insidious. The way my body responded to Jax terrified me. The shameful heat that pooled between my legs whenever he touched me, whenever he called me his little girl… what if I started to believe it? What if I actually started to want this?
No. I wouldn’t let that happen. This constituted a performance, nothing more. A necessary deception to secure my freedom. I would play his game until I found a way out.
I took a deep breath, lowered my eyes submissively, and whispered, “Okay, Daddy.”
The change in Jax’s expression was immediate—what looked like a flash of skepticism, quickly replaced by what looked like a deep satisfaction I wasn’t sure I trusted. He reached out and cupped my cheek, his thumb tracing my lower lip.
“That’s my good girl,” he murmured. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
He led me to the enormous en-suite bathroom, his hand firmly gripping mine. The space was all marble and glass, with a shower large enough for four people and a deep soaking tub that could easily fit two. He guided me to stand in front of the vanity mirror.
“Look at yourself,” he instructed.
I raised my eyes reluctantly. The girl in the mirror had disheveled hair and wide eyes. I tried to focus on that rather than her wearing a childish pink nightgown over a bulky diaper. The pink collar around my neck gleamed in the bathroom’s bright light, the tag declaring me ‘Property of Daddy Jax’ clearly visible.
“This is who you are now,” Jax said, standing behind me with his hands on my shoulders. “My naughty little girl, learning to behave herself.”
I nodded meekly, playing my part while silently reminding myself that this was all temporary. Just a performance to survive until I could escape.
“Let’s check your diaper,” he said.
Jax’s hands moved to the front of the humiliating thing, pressing gently between my thighs to check for wetness. I stood still, cheeks burning with embarrassment as he inspected me like a toddler.
“Good girl,” he praised, his voice warm with approval. “Your diaper is nice and dry this morning. Since you’re being such a good Little Lulu, you may use the toilet.”
Relief washed through me, both at the prospect of using an actual toilet and at his approval. I hated that his praise affected me, but I couldn’t deny the little flutter in my chest.
I moved toward the toilet, expecting him to step out and give me privacy. When he remained standing there, watching me expectantly, my stomach dropped.
“Could I please have some privacy?” I asked, keeping my voice soft and polite, playing the role of the compliant little girl while my insides twisted with humiliation.
Jax chuckled, shaking his head. “Little girls don’t get privacy from their daddies, sweetheart. Daddy needs to make sure his baby girl is taking proper care of herself.”
Before I could protest further, his fingers were at the Velcro tabs of my diaper. He unfastened them with practiced ease and pulled the bulky padding away from my body. I shivered as cool air hit my exposed skin.