If it’s my welcoming party, shouldn’t I get to be a princess, too?
Before I can question why I even care, everyone seems to sense our presence at the same time. Six heads whip up to look at us, and then the room fills with squeals of happiness as my friends jump up from the floor and race toward me.
“Oh my gosh, I love your dress!” Eyes wide with a sense of awe, Tori steps back, her hands pressed to her cheeks. “It’s so pretty, Izzy! Daddy, look how pretty Izzy’s dress is!”
“I see, little thief.” With a languid grace that makes him seem more lethal than the “Uncle Max” I’ve come to know, her Daddy rises from the couch and crosses the room to stand behind her. “Should we ask Solene if she can make one for you?”
“Can we? Please?”
“Anything you want, little one.” Uncle Max’s gaze rakes over me, approval shining in his eyes. “You look adorable, Isabella. Give us a twirl.”
Uncertain, I look up at Daddy, who smiles indulgently and nods his approval.
Twirling is something I takeveryseriously, so I step back away from the small crowd that is my supposed family and take my position. The stiff Mary Janes on my feet aren’t the best shoes for what I have in mind, but they’ll do. Taking my position, I breathe in deep before pushing off with one foot, bringing it up to my other thigh as I spin and spin in place.
For a few seconds, I’m no longer trapped on this island, under the care of a man who uses pleasure as punishment and subjects me to more humiliation than I’ve ever been forced to bear in my life. I am Giselle, Sleeping Beauty, Odette. All of the roles I’ve dreamed of my entire life, but have never been granted. I am the star of my own show, and as I spin, the stress of my current predicament fades away.
When I land again, applause erupts around the room, and I curtsy for my audience, my cheeks blazing with happy embarrassment. It was over the top, my twirling, but I couldn’t resist the urge to indulge in one of my favorite things.
As my family fusses and congratulates me on my beautiful twirl, Daddy scoops me up, planting me on his hip as he whispers in my ear. “That was perfect, little one. Daddy is so proud of you.”
It shouldn’t give me butterflies, him telling me he’s proud of me. But my stomach explodes with them all the same. “Thank you, Daddy.”
“Daddy, Daddy!” Bouncing excitedly in place, Juju tugs at Uncle Jasper’s sleeve. “Give Izzy her present!”
Uncle Max frowns slightly, but Uncle Jasper just shakes his head and grins. “Such a demanding Little girl. Why don't you try asking nicely, princess?”
“Ugggh.” Groaning, Juju rolls her eyes dramatically enough for everyone in the room to see. “Will youpleasegive Izzy her present before we all die of old age?”
“Excuse us a second.” With another shake of his head, Uncle Jasper scoops Juliet up and carries her over to the couch. I watch, equal parts horrified and fascinated as he strips her diaper from her and flips her over his lap all in one smooth, quick move.
“Daddy, no! I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”
But Uncle Jasper doesn’t even acknowledge her pleas. He simply flips her skirt up and begins spanking her bare bottom, right in the middle of the room for everyone to see.
Over his lap, Juju kicks and struggles, her howls of pain filling the room as her bottom turns a darker and darker shade of pink.
“Do you need to borrow my hairbrush?” Auntie Cat calls over the cacophony, a grin stretched across her pretty face.
“My hand should do well enough for now.” Not even sounding out of breath, Uncle Jasper looks up and winks at all of us. “We’ll see how the evening progresses.”
After several more swats, Uncle Jasper lifts his Little girl up off his lap, cradling her in his arms as Juliet sobs her apologies into his shoulder. Somehow, the comfort he offers feels far too intimate for onlookers, so I turn my head away from the scene.
And get my first good glimpse of the man standing next to Auntie Cat.
Before I can catch myself, a gasp escapes my lips. Horrified by my own reaction, I slap a hand over my mouth to smother the sound.
But it’s too late. The man’s gaze is fixed on me, and his lips curve into a twisted smile as he taps the jagged scar that runs down one side of his face. “It’s all right, little one,” he says, his tone soothing despite the gravelly timbre of his voice. “I know I can seem scary at first, especially to Little girls.”
“That’s your Uncle Evan,” Daddy explains quietly. “I promise he isn’t as bad as he looks, though he won’t hesitate to spank your bottom if you need it, just like your other uncles and your Auntie Cat.”
The thought of being spanked by a man who looks like he sends people to “sleep with the fishes” on a regular basis freezes me with terror.
And when he reaches into his coat pocket, it’s all I can do to swallow the whimper of fear that rises up in my throat. What is he hiding in there? A weapon? Some kind of small torture device?
Neither, as it turns out. It’s a small black box, and when he lifts the lid, he reveals a stunning locket nestled inside. It’s a silver heart, with a beautiful, ornate “I” engraved on the front.
“Your Daddy bought this for you, but I wanted to make some… modifications before he gave it to you. Gideon, would you like to do the honors?”
