“Yes, Daddy,” I say with a sniffle. I'm almost grateful for the title he insists on. A real name would make him feel more like a person, I think, and the only thing keeping me grounded right now is the pretense that he isn't quite human but a monster simply wearing a human suit.
I know it's not true. But I'm willing to embrace whatever lies my mind wishes to tell me if it means escaping here with my sanity still intact.
“I will warn you, the next time I have to punish you, I won’t be so lenient. Hopefully for your sake you’ve learned your lesson.”
He lowers me back into the water, and I wince when my bottom presses against the hard tub floor. If this was him being lenient then I will do everything in my power to never make him angry again.
Still sniffling, tears dripping down my nose into the bath water, I pick up one of the mermaids. They are pretty cute, actually, something I would have enjoyed as a kid. More to the point, they give me something to focus on. Something that’s not…him.
And I need the distraction more than ever when he begins to wash me. The feel of the soapy washcloth running along my arms and then my breasts makes my skin crawl, so I focus on my mermaids. I imagine being one of them, swimming away from this house of humiliating horrors, back to freedom.
Maybe I would just stay a mermaid. As much as I love being a ballerina, what’s really waiting for me back in New York? A shitty apartment, a second job I hate, and running drugs. Being a mermaid would be so much better. Just living my days free and happy with the fishes.
Do sharks eat mermaids? That might be a downside to this plan. But maybe mermaids have a way of communicating with the sharks and they’re friends instead. If I had a shark friend, I could send him after Daddy.
“What’s so funny, little doll?”
Daddy’s question jerks me out of my imaginary world, back to the present, where he is busy scrubbing my legs.
I wasn’t even aware I’d laughed until he’d spoken, and I’m both embarrassed and annoyed with myself for getting so lost in my game. While it did help to distance me from what was happening to my body, I can’t afford to get that distracted again, not if I’m going to have any hope of escaping.
But of course I can’t let him know that, so I just offer up a shy smile and hope he doesn’t notice my inner turmoil. “Nothing. Just thinking about mermaids. And sharks.”
“Sharks, huh?” he asks with a laugh of his own. “Do you think mermaids and sharks are enemies or friends?”
“Friends. Definitely friends. And the sharks eat anyone who’s mean to the mermaids.”
“Then I suppose it’s lucky for me you’re a ballerina and not a mermaid, isn’t it?”
It’s eerie how closely his thoughts mirror my own. But it does give me the courage to lift my head and meet his pale gaze. “Yup.”
“Awww, little doll.” Eyes twinkling with amusement now, he runs a hand over my hair. “Would you really send a shark after your Daddy?”
My heart beats faster against my ribcage, and the metallic taste of fear on my tongue is almost enough to convince me to lie. But for whatever reason, my sense of preservation seems to have taken a hike. “Yes, I would. You spanked me.”
Really, Izzy? The man kidnapped you, dressed you like a baby, and has god only knows what planned for you and you’re pouting like a child over a spanking?
If Daddy finds the source of my protest odd, he doesn’t say. He simply tilts his head to the side, those clear gray eyes studying me with such intensity it makes the breath tangle in my chest. “I did. And why did I spank you, Isabella?”
Something about the way he says my name makes my stomach clench. There’s an undercurrent there, telling me to tread carefully. It’s enough to have me backing down, dropping my gaze back to the mermaids. “Because I was naughty.”
“You were very naughty. And if you’re naughty again, you will get spanked again. I’m sure your shark friends will understand that misbehaving Little girls sometimes need their bottoms spanked to help them learn how to be good.”
“They’re sharks,” I mumble. “They only understand biting people.”
He chuckles, and the sound unravels some of the knots in my stomach. “You may have a point there, little doll. Lean your head back so Daddy can wash your hair.”
I can’t focus on my mermaids in this position, but at least I can close my eyes. Pretend I’m just taking a shower in my own apartment, and this was all a bad dream.
That illusion only lasts as long as it takes him to wash and detangle my hair, but it gives me enough time for my breathing to even out and my heart rate to settle back into a normal rhythm.
“All right, my little doll. Up on your knees.”
Wary, and with good reason as far as I’m concerned, I open one eye to peek up at him. “Why?”
One dark brow rises, and though he’s still smiling, there’s a hardness to his expression that tells me I’m pushing my luck. “Because Daddy said so, Isabella. Do you want another spanking?”
“No, Daddy.”
