Daddy's Here(59)

The tip of the plug made her gasp when it touched her hole, it was colder than she’d expected. He pushed slowly forwards and she winced as her entrance stretched around it, the solidity of it unstoppable. It kept moving, widening her so much she felt she was on the verge of screaming but then it was in, her bottom retracting around it, holding it in place inside it. The heavy presence of it was impossible to ignore and as she was rolled onto her back, it pressed deeper into her, moving against her insides and making her cheeks flush, her breath catching in her throat.

“We better get moving,” he said, quickly getting a nappy on her whilst she attempted to get used to the feeling of her bottom being so solidly filled. Standing up made it worse, gravity tugging the plug downwards until the nappy stopped it moving any further. “Into this dress,” he said, pushing it over her shoulders, “and then get your shoes on.”

They were out of the door a minute later, Abbey carried over his shoulder to the road before being set down and beginning to walk. It felt oddly comforting to be out in public wearing a nappy, so different to the shame of being naked under her dress, even though it rustled against her skin. At least her growing need to relieve herself didn’t matter, there’d be no need to rush off to a bathroom. She could use it for its purpose and make her Papa proud of her, embrace the life of the little.

The plug made her insides throb with desire as she walked and by the time they reached the village hall, she was flushed and breathing hard, doing her best to keep her expression in check as the villagers all turned to look at her. Mr Watson was on the stage again but this time there were no guards, just her and her Papa stood next to each other.

“We are here,” Mr Watson began, “to ascertain whether this miscreant has learned her lesson. Is she still a spoilt brat or is she a welcome addition to our village?”

Papa turned to him and smiled. “Or is she both?”

“That’s enough levity,” Mr Watson snapped back at him. “Miss Moncrieff, are you quite well? You look rather uncomfortable.”

“I’m fine, thank you,” Abbey managed to squeak, shuffling on the spot as her need to relieve herself grew alongside the slight movement of the plug in her rear.

“Then we will proceed. Have you anything to say about your crimes or your punishment before I make my judgement?”

“Yes, Sir. I would like to apologise to you all for what I did and also to thank you.”

“To thank us?”

“Yes, Sir. If it was not for your actions, I would not have met my Papa here.”

Mr Watson coughed. “I am not sure that is entirely appropriate. Why are you looking at him like that?”

“Oh, I admire him, that’s all.”

Mr Watson stared at her before moving his eyes to her Papa. “I will see you both in my room for a moment. This way.”

He stood up, moving to the back of the stage, pushing open a door and then vanishing through it. Abbey followed, each step making her wince with a mixture of pressure, pleasure, and pain all wrapped up together.

She slowly made her way through the door, finding herself in a small office. Mr Watson had already sat behind his desk, looking down at her hips. “What’s inside that nappy?” he asked.

“I’m not sure that’s a reasonable question to ask a lady,” Abbey replied.

“You are not a lady again until I say so. There is something in there, I can tell. No little looks like that without something going on. Get that nappy off.”

“I’d rather she kept it on,” Papa said, speaking for her.

“I don’t care what you’d rather do. Get it off.”

Abbey looked up at her Papa and he nodded reluctantly back at her. She reached down and undid the sides of the nappy, letting it fall to the floor.

“Turn round,” Mr Watson said. Abbey did as he asked, hearing his sharp intake of breath as he saw the base of the plug protruding obscenely from her. “What on earth is that?”

“It’s my plug, Sir.”

“A plug is not suitable for littles, you filthy whore. Get it out and get out of here right now.”

“But…”

“And as for you,” he said, pointing a finger at her Papa. “You’re clearly no longer fit to be the village Papa. I will see to it that no one else will ever attend your nursery.” He turned back to Abbey who was wincing as she slowly began to pull the plug out. “Are you still here? Get out, I said. Get out and go home!”

Abbey left, the plug still inside her as she ran past the rows of villagers, not stopping until she reached her house. The front door hung open just as if she’d only been gone a few minutes. She darted inside and slammed it shut, leaning against it and bursting into tears.