Setting my whiskey aside, I rise to my feet, shrugging out of my suit jacket, my eyes never leaving her round, heart-shaped face with those big blue eyes and perfect Cupid's bow of a mouth as I pop open the button on my shirt sleeve.
“That does not change the fact that when you signed on to be under my employ, you agreed to my rules. And my discipline.”
Some of the color fades from her cheeks as she moves the hand not clutching her stuffie behind her, as if protecting herself from the punishment coming her way. “I wasn’t that late,” she whines, sounding and looking very much like a naughty Little girl despite her assertions otherwise.
“You know how I feel about tardiness, Camilla. Come here.”
With both of my sleeves rolled to the elbow, I crook a finger, beckoning her to me. Camilla heaves a dramatic sigh and drags herself across the floor of the plane.
And I do mean drags, quite literally. With every step, her sneaker-clad feet scrape across the floor until she’s standing in front of me, her gaze fixed on my tie.
Gripping her chin, I force her head back, and I’m rewarded with the slight catch of her breath and the widening of her pupils as she lifts her gaze to mine. “Just because you’ve given your notice does not mean my expectations have changed, young lady. It’s a count of ten with my hand, on your bare bottom. Unless you’d like to continue arguing with me, in which case we can make it a count of ten with my belt.”
In the past, she’s submitted rather quickly and easily whenever she’s earned a punishment. I learned early on that sweet little Camilla absolutely hates to be in trouble. Or, more to the point, she hates to disappoint anyone.
Especially me.
But now, there’s a spark of rebellion in the bright blue of her eyes, and as much as I’ve enjoyed her easy submission in the past, there’s something about watching her inner turmoil play out on her face that I secretly love.
If she gives in, I get to spank her delightfully round bottom. If she fights me, I’ll simply punish her even more harshly until she does finally submit.
Either way… I win.
Today, she submits, her shoulders slumping forward slightly. “No, Sir. I’m not going to argue.”
“Good girl.” Releasing my hold on her chin, I reach for her, slowly unsnapping the button at her waist without taking my eyes off hers. Which gives me the pleasure of watching her pupils darken as I slide the zipper of her jeans down, loosening them enough to push the tight denim over her hips.
But when I glance down, I don’t see the diaper she’s worn every day since she stepped foot on the island. Instead, emerald-green silk and lace cover her mound, and part of her bottom.
“What the hell is that?”
“Huh?” Looking down, she lets out a snort of laughter before raising amused eyes back to mine. “Panties, Donovan. You’ve seen panties before.”
“Yes, but not on you. Where’s your diaper, little girl?”
Her jaw firms, defiance etching itself into her features once more. “I told you. While we’re on this trip together, I’m not a Little girl. I’m just your nurse and your assistant.”
“No.”
One honey-colored brow raises. “No? What do you mean ‘No’?”
“Exactly what I said. No, you are not parading yourself around in these panties. You will wear your diaper, just as you have always done, or I will punish you.”
“You can’t punish me for not wearing a diaper. That’s not part of our contract.”
My mind races, searching for a clause I can use against her. “Consider it part of your ‘other duties as assigned’. Kerry, bring me a diaper for Ms. Hamilton, please.”
From wherever she keeps herself hidden during these trips, Kerry responds immediately. “Of course, Doctor D.”
Fury blazes in Camilla’s eyes, turning them to thunderstorms of emotion. “This is bullshit and you know it, Donovan! You can’t force me to wear a diaper!”
My Little girl is clearly on the verge of a full-blown tantrum. There are times when a Daddy needs to talk things out, explain to his Little one why she should obey him.
And then there are times for action.
Returning to my seat, I pull Camilla down over my left knee, using my right leg to trap both of hers as she struggles and shouts for me to let her go. A few more swear words slip free, which is rather unusual for her.
Too much time with Evander’s Little one, Natalie, if I had to guess. That girl is a hellion and her Daddy doesn’t try nearly hard enough to rein her in.
