“Can’t I?”
She swallows hard, panting now as she squeezes her thighs even tighter. I’d bet my last dollar her panties are soaked. I know she’s confused by her body’s reaction to my command. It’s normal. She’s never experienced anything like this before. She’s embarrassed. Her cheeks are bright pink.
I remain completely calm, confident that I can wait her out. She’s too much of a pleaser to ignore my order. Plus, she’s curious as fuck.
Seconds tick by before she slowly pushes to sitting and slides off the edge of the bed. She hesitates, tipping her head back to make eye contact with me. She glares for long moments before sighing, rolling her pretty eyes, and turning to stomp toward the corner.
I follow her. “Lean your forehead against the intersection of the walls, Little one. Spread your feet wider and clasp your hands behind your back. Use your left hand to hold on to the fingers of your right this time.”
Her breath hitches, but moments later, she obeys my demands. Goosebumps rise on her arms as she shivers.
I reach up and stroke a hand down one of her messy pigtails before patting her between her shoulder blades. “Good girl. You’re not actually in trouble this time, Little one. I just think it’s a good time for you to know what to expect in the future. No lying to Daddy. I’ll always know when you’re lying to me.”
“Yes, Sir,” she whispers.
“I’m going to ask you a question, and I want you to think before you answer me. I will ask you this question often, and you’ll learn to tell the truth because fibbing will land you in far more trouble.”
“Yes, Sir.”
I lean in and speak close to her ear. “Are your panties wet, naughty girl?”
She gasps.
“Think hard. Sometimes, when I ask you that question, I will also check to see how wet your panties are. Sometimes I won’t. You don’t want to risk being caught telling Daddy a falsehood about how wet your pussy is. Trust me.”
She’s breathing so heavily by the time I finish speaking that I wonder if she might hyperventilate.
“Now, are your panties wet, June? Did your pussy leak all over the cotton when I mentioned putting you in timeout?”
I watch her profile as she licks her lips. “Yes, Daddy,” she murmurs.
I kiss her cheek. “Good girl. You’ll stand here until Daddy says you can move.” I don’t give her a specific length of time because I want her to learn that I won’t always tell her. Timeouts seem much longer when Little girls don’t know how many minutes are left.
Twenty-Two
Blade
* * *
After backing up, I sit in the armchair by the window, where I usually read when I have spare time. I wonder when I’ll ever have spare time again. I grin at the thought. I hope I never have free time on my hands for the rest of my life. The best thing in the world would be if this Little girl runs circles around me for the next fifty years, keeping me on my toes the entire time.
I cross my legs and stroke my beard while I watch her. Her knees are shaking. She might be chilly in the short nightgown and panties. It’s not cold in the apartment, but she’s unnerved.
Fuck, she’s precious. I know she’s not entirely convinced I’m as dedicated to her as I’ve insisted, but I’m all in with this Little girl. She’s mine. I’ll never let her go.
I don’t want her injured arm to cause her any pain, so I only make her stand there a few minutes before I say, “Your timeout is over, Little one. Come to Daddy.”
She releases her finger and rights herself before turning to shuffle toward me. Her gaze is cast down, but her cheeks are still very pink. I reach for her hand when she’s close enough, guide her between my legs, and lift her to sit on my thigh.
Cupping her head, I press it against my shoulder. “How did that make you feel, Little one?”
“Weird,” she mutters.
I chuckle. “The first timeout can feel strange. You did well. Do you understand why I sent you to the corner?”
“Because you’re bossy and a big meanie.”
I laugh before angling her head back so she’s looking at me. “Nope. Want to take another guess?”
