Plucking the small pink device from the drawer, I push Isabella’s knees apart, baring her pussy with its neatly trimmed hair to my gaze. The hair will need to go soon, and I make a mental note to ask Cat if she’d like to accompany us to the salon.
“What are you doing?” Isabella’s voice rises to a shrill shriek as she tries to slam her knees back together. I am, of course, much stronger, but years of dance have given Isabella enough strength to make things more difficult for me than I would like.
Setting the device aside, I swat the inside of each thigh, hard enough to leave a clear, raised impression of my handprint on her delicate skin.
“Ow!” Tears sparkle on her dark lashes and her bottom lip trembles, transforming her before my eyes into the perfect picture of a contrite Little girl. “That hurt!”
“I’m sure it did. And unless you want more, you’ll keep those legs apart, little girl.”
With a loud, dramatic sniff, she slowly parts her legs, just a fraction.
“Wider, Isabella. Do not try to hide your pussy from your Daddy.”
She whines, a sound so pitiful it stirs something in my chest. Not pity, though I’m sure that’s what she’s hoping for. No, the feeling she inspires is something darker, far more primal, and the moment her thighs fall open, I can’t resist the urge to lean down and press a gentle kiss to her swollen clit.
Gasping, she arches up, or at least as much as the leather band across her stomach will allow. “Daddy!”
The sound of her crying out for me nearly unravels the already tenuous hold I have on my self-control. I want nothing more than to bury my face in the sweet, musky scent of her arousal, tasting and teasing her until she comes, screaming for her Daddy.
But naughty Little girls who tell lies don’t get the pleasure of coming all over Daddy’s face, so I resist. Sighing quietly, I stand up, forcing my expression into stern lines as I look down at her. “You were very naughty this morning, Isabella.”
Confusion knits her brow. “Wh-what do you mean?”
Picking up the pink toy again, I use my free hand to part her pussy lips so I can slide the phallic attachment inside her, earning me a look of wide-eyed horror from my Little girl. “You lied to Daddy earlier. When I asked if you wanted me to make you come. And then you used a very naughty word.”
The device nestles neatly between her lips, with the tip pressed firmly against her clit. I pull the remote from the drawer and hit a button, my lips curving up in a smile of pure satisfaction when Isabella gasps and wriggles in response. “Perhaps spending the day with this delightful toy in your wet, needy pussy will help you remember not to lie to Daddy again.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I won’t ever lie again! Please take it out!”
“No.” Setting the remote aside, I pick up a diaper adorned with fluffy rabbits frolicking along the fabric. “You are being punished, Isabella, and Daddy decides when your punishment is over.”
The sound of her whining and whimpering has my cock straining painfully against my slacks as I grip her ankles, lifting her legs into the air so I can slide the diaper beneath her bottom. Luckily for my little doll, she doesn’t fight me as I wrap her in the soft cotton. With her properly diapered, I unbuckle the strap across her waist and lift her into my arms.
My heart cracks when she immediately wraps her arms around my neck, burying her face against my shoulder. I knew the moment I saw her that she would be perfect for me, but even I couldn’t have anticipated exactly how perfect she would be.
Rubbing my hand across her bare back, noting with another pang of grief and anger how her spine presses against her skin, I bounce her lightly as I carry her into the large closet just off her nursery. Mountains of tulle and satin greet me as I step inside, and I grin at the offerings. I’ve spent months building her wardrobe to my exact specifications and now I finally get the pleasure of dressing my little doll.
And I already know exactly which dress I’m going to choose first. Heart pounding against my ribs, I carefully pull the white and pink masterpiece down from the dowel. It’s far more intricate than most of Solene’s dresses, as evidenced by how much it cost to have it made exactly the way I wanted it. But it will be all worth it when I finally get to see my Little one in it.
Setting Isabella on her feet, I hold the dress up for her inspection, and to my delight, her eyes go round with wonder at the sight of it. Tentatively, she reaches out, running the tips of her fingers over the pink satin. “Is this for me?”
“Everything in this closet is for you, little one. Arms up.”
Still wide-eyed, she raises her arms so I can slip the dress over her head. The ruffles settle around her hips, leaving her long legs bare. Apparently delighted by her dress, Isabella twirls in place, her high-pitched giggles echoing around the room.
“Oh, it’s beautiful! I’ve never had anything so pretty before!”
“A beautiful dress for a beautiful Little girl.”
Pink, a few shades darker than the rose of her dress, rushes to her cheeks. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, little one. Now, stand right there. We need just a few more finishing touches.”
She watches on, curiosity stamped all over her delicate face as I pull open a drawer and retrieve a pair of knee-high socks, followed by a careful perusal of the shoes lining the opposite wall of the closet. Black Mary Janes. They’re a classic for a reason, after all.
When she’s fully dressed, I carry her back to the bathroom to carefully curl her hair into dark shining ringlets. A headband with a pink bow in the exact shade of her dress tops off the look and I take a step back to admire my work.
My sweet Little girl. My precious gift.
