Daddy's Here(53)
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.