My response earns me a snort of laughter, but it doesn’t deter him from unwrapping the soap and running it beneath the stream of water until bubbles form on the surface. “I guess they don’t. Open up, bug. If I have to force you, I can promise you will regret it.”
I already regret everything about this trip. Why the hell did I pick Colorado, anyway? Fifty fucking states, a million small towns, and somehow I ended uphere.
If I was a more romantic sort, I might think something like fate brought me here. But I gave up on believing in fairytales twenty years ago.
Even with all those regrets, I’m leery of pushing him too much harder. Faced with the very real prospect of having my mouth washed out, I’m suddenly regretting some of my choices.
But only some.
“Can’t we talk about this?” I ask, mumbling somewhat as I try not to open my mouth enough for him to shove the soap in.
“I think you’ve done quite enough talking for today, little girl. One.”
Uh-oh. It may be twenty years later, but I remember all too well what happens when he gets to three.
My mouth falls open, and a second later the soap is in there, coating my tongue with the bitter, acrid taste of it as I gag around the bar. It’s worse than I could have possibly imagined, and if my mouth wasn’t full, I would be begging him to take it out.
“That soap is going to stay right there until Daddy is convinced we’ve washed all those naughty words right out of your mouth.” Moving to stand behind me, he wraps his arms around my waist, his hands pressing on my abdomen. “But I believe a certain naughty Little girl said she had to use the bathroom.” He presses harder, the pressure on my bladder growing more and more unbearable with every passing second.
And as I stand there, my mouth full of disgusting bubbles and my bladder feeling like it’s about to burst, I’m hit with the horrifying realization that he has no intention of letting me use the toilet.
He’s going to force me to piss in my fucking diaper.
CHAPTER 9
BRAM
Furious hazel eyes meet mine in the mirror. The white bar jutting from her lips is covered in suds, and drool is sliding down her chin, turning her into a beautiful little mess.
I’ve never loved her more.
When I press on her bladder again, some of the fury fades, replaced by a silent plea I have no intention of heeding. Now that Josie is back in my life, I’m going to claim her as my Little girl in every possible way. And that includes forcing her to use her diaper, regardless of whether she wants to or not.
“You can do it, my sweet little bug,” I murmur in her ear as I massage the organ beneath my fingers. “Just relax and let Daddy take care of you.”
As if her body itself is determined to defy me, she stiffens at my touch, her muscles tightening rather than loosening.
Hmm. Perhaps I’m going about this the wrong way. In our previous life, there was one surefire way to get my babygirl to relax, and I doubt she’s really changed that much over the years.
Shifting my hold on her, I slide my left arm around her waist, anchoring her to me while my right hand moves beneath thewaistband of her diaper. In the mirror, I watch her eyes widen with shock. But even as she wiggles against me, her cotton-covered bottom rubbing against my cock, I can see the need, thehungerin her eyes.
And because I can see it, so clearly, I keep my gaze locked with hers in the reflection as I slide my fingers through her sopping wet folds. “Such a filthy little baby, aren’t you, Josie? Youlikebeing Daddy’s naughty baby, walking around in a diaper full of Daddy’s cum, being forced to piss yourself in front of a mirror. You’re so fucking wet, I’m not convinced you haven’t already used your diaper.”
I know she hasn’t, of course, but my words have the desired effect. Even as her eyes flash with renewed anger, her cunt clamps down on my fingers, so hard I nearly wince as her muscles squeeze me tight. Using everything I learned about her all those years ago, I stroke that hidden spot inside her, and I’m rewarded with a flood of arousal coating my fingers.
“That’s my good girl,” I purr in her ear as I work her toward release. “Just let go and let Daddy make you feel good, baby.”
She tenses in my arms, trying so hard to fight me. To fight herself, even as her hips roll against my hand, her body seeking the release her mind is rebelling against. As I work that sweet bundle of nerves inside her, I grind the heel of my hand against her clit, a combination I know she’s helpless against.
In our shared reflection, I can see the panic in her eyes as I drag her metaphorically kicking and screaming to the cliff’s edge of pleasure.
And shove her straight over.
She comes screaming and gagging around the soap, and when wetness coats my hand I know it’s not just her arousal flooding her diaper. “Good fucking girl.” My voice is a low growl, thick with my own need as I work her toward a second orgasm as a reward. “Daddy’s so proud of you, baby, for using your diaperlike the good Little girl you are. My perfect, filthy little baby. Come for Daddy again, sweet little bug.”
Tears stream down her flushed cheeks, mingling with snot and drool and soap suds as her eyes silently beg me to stop. Or perhaps she’s begging for more. I’m not even sure she knows. What I do know is that she is, right now, the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. My beautiful, messy baby. Right where she belongs once again.
Josie
