“Would you like your surprise from Auntie Cat now?” he asks, an indulgent smile curving his lips as he stares down at me. This smile is much nicer than the one he gave me before putting the torture device in my pussy earlier, and I’m almost able to relax in his arms.
“Yes, Daddy.” It doesn’t even matter what the surprise is. He wants to hear me agree, and so I’ll agree. I’ll do whatever it takes to buy myself the time I need to figure out an escape plan.
Practically beaming now, he leans over to the side, and when he straightens up a moment later, I can only stare at what he holds in his hand.
A bottle. Full of milk.
Where the hellamI?
“Open up, little one.”
I hesitate, long enough for his lips to dip down in a distinct frown. “Isabella. Don’t be stubborn.”
The sharp tone of his voice is enough for me to force my mouth to open. Daddy slides the rubber tip between my lips and I give the nipple a tentative suck.
Sweet, cold liquid rushes into my mouth, and just like with the cinnamon bun, I nearly moan at the delicious taste. If it weren’t for the whole “drugging me and kidnapping me out of my apartment in the middle of the night” thing I might actually be able to enjoy this. Being fed and pampered and taken care of isn’t exactly the worst fate in the world.
But you didn’t ask for this. You have a dream back in the city! You’re really going to give all that up just to be some asshole’s baby?
No, of course not. Of course not. But for the time being, it reallycouldbe a lot worse, so there’s no point in fighting him on something as simple as drinking from a bottle.
After all… it’s not like this is any more embarrassing than wearing a diaper and being dressed like a porcelain doll.
My eyes drift shut as I drink, and the swaying motion of the rocker nearly lulls me to sleep before the bottle is finished. And even when Daddy pulls the bottle away, we stay there, cuddled together in the chair, him humming softly as he rocks me nearly to sleep.
A soft beeping sound stirs me from my near slumber and Daddy shifts me in his arms to pull his phone from his pocket. Swiping open an app, he chuckles and shakes his head.
“Just as I thought. Your Auntie Cat couldn’t wait to meet you, little one.”
* * *
Gideon
With Isabella wrapped around me, I make my way downstairs to greet Catharina. She’s already waiting for us in the entryway, pacing back and forth in front of the stairs. When we’re about halfway down the steps, she stops and looks up, joy lighting her face.
Maxwell and I have known Cat nearly our entire lives, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen her smile the way she has since our first Little girl arrived on the island a few short months ago. And it makes my chest ache, in the best possible way, to see that smile aimed at my own Little one now.
“Oh, Gideon!” One hand pressed against her chest, Cat sighs. “How precious is she?”
Isabella whimpers, her arms tightening around my neck as she buries her face in my shoulder, and I can’t help but chuckle even as I give her back a soothing pat. “She’s a bit shy, I’m afraid. Isabella, can you say hello to your Auntie Cat, little one?”
There’s a muffled sound that might have been a “hello”, and Cat’s smile turns sympathetic. “Poor thing. Would she be more comfortable up in her nursery, do you think?”
“We’ve been there all morning. I think she might enjoy seeing some more of the house.” If I can unwrap her from around me long enough for her to actually see anything, that is.
“The living room, then. It’s a bit less stuffy than your parlor. Has she eaten?”
Because she has a point about the parlor, I lead the way toward the back of the house and the much less formal living room, settling in on one of the deep, comfortable couches with Cat beside me. “We just finished breakfast. And she had a bottle of milk.”
As I’d expected, hunger and a hint of envy fill Cat’s dark eyes. “Did she enjoy her bottle?”
Gently taking hold of Isabella’s wrists, I try to pull her arms away from my neck, but she doesn’t budge. “Isabella. Your Auntie Cat is here to visit with you and you’re being very rude.”
“Oh, leave her be, Gideon. She’s still getting used to everything. Aren’t you, my sweet girl?”
To my surprise, Isabella slowly lifts her head, her eyes wide as she nods. “Yes, Auntie Cat,” she whispers, so quietly I can barely make out the words.
“There’s our pretty little one,” Cat says, her voice dropping to a low, soothing tone as she reaches out to cup Isabella’s face. “Hello, Isabella. I’m your Auntie Cat.”
