At long last, she yawns around my cock, her eyes fluttering open to meet mine. Glazed with sleep, it takes a moment for the recognition to hit, and I’m filled with a sense of loss when she jerks backward, drool spilling from the side of her mouth as she looks down at my cock with horror.
“You drugged me again!”
The accusation is more amusing than insulting, and I can’t help but laugh. “Not this time, little doll. This was all you.”
“Oh, really?” A haughty sneer pulls the corner of her mouth up as she glares at me. “I just rolled over and put your cock in my mouth all by myself? Dead asleep?”
“Well, no. You looked so adorable laying there, I was going to fuck your mouth until you awoke. But I refrained.”
Her eyes narrow in clear disbelief. “Why would you refrain?”
“Because you mistook my cock for a pacifier. And you looked so peaceful, sucking on your Daddy’s cock for comfort, I couldn’t bear to wake you.”
Frowning, she sits back on her haunches, clearly trying to make sense of this new information. “That doesn’t sound like me.”
I reach for her, pleased when she doesn’t fight me as I pluck her from the bed and settle her on my lap. “Perhaps your subconscious enjoys being my Little girl more than you realize.”
“I don’t think so.”
Obviously she isn’t quite ready to accept the truth, so I drop the issue for now. There’s more than enough time to convince her of what her deepest, most primal self already knows to be true.
On some level, Isabella Grace Walker is already Daddy’s Little girl.
* * *
Isabella
The events of the morning play over and over in my head throughout the day. Not just waking up with Daddy’s cock in my mouth, but the implication that I did so because some part of me actuallydoesenjoy being his Little girl. Not just as a form of manipulation like I’ve been telling myself so far, but as something I actually… like.
I’m not really sure what that says about me, but the harder I try not to think about it, the more my brain refuses to focus on anything else. Until it seems like all I can think about is whether or not he’s broken me so completely that I’ve already accepted my new life here on the island.
Those obsessive thoughts keep me quiet throughout the day, but Daddy doesn’t appear to mind. If anything, he seems to like the quiet version of me, playing in the wooden pen in his office while I wait for him to finish work. And, if I’m being completely honest with myself, I don’t mind it all that much either. There’s something incredibly peaceful about being allowed to simplybewithout having to make small talk with a man I know nothing about.
That thought gives me pause. I really don’t know anything about him. And even if I’m not prepared to live here forever as his Little girl, wouldn’t I want to know all about him if I was? It seems like the kind of thing someone would do if they were actually planning to stick around.
“Daddy?”
Looking up from his computer, Daddy glances over at me, surprise in his eyes. “Yes, little one?”
“What’s your favorite color?”
An array of emotions crosses his face, ending with something that looks like amusement as he sits back in his office chair. “Why do you ask?”
“You know my favorite color. It seems like I should be allowed to know stuff about you, too.”
“Fair enough, I suppose.” Swiveling slightly in his chair, he taps a pen against his chin, seemingly giving the question some thought. “I suppose my favorite color would be green.”
I gasp, feeling more excitement than I should at this revelation. “Like mine!”
“Yes, little one. Exactly like yours. Though I prefer a dark, hunter-type green.”
“Like the forest?”
“Exactly like the forest, little doll.”
“Hmm. What about your favorite food?”
“Pasta,” he says with a laugh. “I’ve yet to meet a pasta dish I don’t like.”
