I lean back so he can see my sticky mess. It’s also on my chin. “Sorry, Daddy.” I try to sound contrite. “Maybe you can kiss it away like you did that one time?”
He chuckles as he removes my tray and sets it on the table. I’m pleased that he kisses me. He licks the syrup off my chin and lips before saying, “I don’t think I can suck that much syrup off your dress, though, Little one. We’ll need to change it and probably soak it in water.
I hold my hands at the sides and start shaking as though I’m very distressed. I’m rather proud of myself for my acting skills. I somehow manage to get tears to fall, too. “It’s icky, Daddy. Can you get it off me?”
He leans forward and holds my gaze, his brows furrowed.
My cheeks heat while he stares.
Suddenly, he chuckles. “Little girl, I have no idea what you’re plotting here. I’ve never seen you try to bait me before. This is new. But I know those tears aren’t real. You’re up to something.”
My breath hitches. Apparently, I’m not as good of an actress as I thought, but there’s no way I’m going to fess up to my plan, so I try to lay it on thicker. I manage to sniffle and get my bottom lip to tremble.
Daddy’s eyes narrow farther as he unfastens me from the booster seat, reaches under my arms, and lifts me to set me on my bare feet. “Are you going to tell me what this performance is about, naughty girl? Or do you need to stand in the corner for a while and think about fibbing to Daddy?”
I shiver. I hadn’t considered he might put me in timeout because I hadn’t planned on him calling me out for my deception. Ironic since I was just contemplating how horny I get from standing in the corner.
I glance toward my kitchen timeout corner and lay it on thicker. “I didn’t mean to spill the syrup, Daddy.”
Another chuckle. “You naughty, naughty girl. This has nothing to do with syrup. Next time I think you should leave the saucer on your plate and not pick it up, especially while you’ve still got a cast on your arm. It’s too awkward to hold it with your left hand, and you aren’t supposed to be using your right hand to feed yourself.”
I blink up at him, still holding my arms away from my sticky dress. “My arm doesn’t hurt anymore. The doctor said I could start using it sparingly as long as it doesn’t cause pain.”
We saw my new general practitioner last week so I could go on birth control and get a regular physical. But she gave me tips about my arm, and that was one of them.
“That may be, but Dr. Starion is not your Daddy, is she?”
I sniffle. “No, Sir.”
“I don’t think Dr. Starion was picturing sticky syrup and dripping waffle sticks when she said that.”
I squeeze my eyes closed and think about puppies running across a busy street in order to make myself feel sad enough to get more tears to fall. It works. I shudder. Now, I can’t shake the awful image of puppies dodging the cars. What a horrible thought!
Apparently, my act is still not working because Daddy laughs. “June Brien, you have pulled out the naughtiest card I’ve ever seen. I’m stunned.”
Daddy circles behind me and lowers the zipper of my dress so that it falls forward and slips to the floor, leaving me in nothing but pale pink panties. This time, I shudder for real. My nudity causes me to slide deeper into Little space. I can’t even control it.
When Daddy returns to my front to squat down and help me step out of the dress, he also pauses to flick my nipples with both thumbs. In an unexpected move, he reaches for the elastic at my hips and lowers my panties, too.
Now I’m completely naked. This was the goal. I’m hoping he can’t resist my body and will end up taking me to bed. I’m certain that’s not going to be the first thing that happens, though. His eyes are narrowed again as his gaze roams up my body and meets mine.
Finally, he points toward the corner. “Timeout, June. I’m going to put your dress in the sink to soak. You know what to do.”
He stands and says nothing while he waits for me to obey his order.
My nipples are harder than ever. When I lift my gaze to his, I find he has one brow lifted. The one that suggests if he needs to repeat himself, my punishment will be worse.
The problem is that timeouts are no punishment, and anything he does to make it “worse” only causes my arousal to increase. For once, I intend to make sure I’m not left wanting this morning. If I have to shove him onto his back, remove his pants myself, and climb on top of him to impale myself, I will.
Ha. My thoughts sound sexy and powerful in my head, but there’s no way I could ever make this big, strong Daddy do something he didn’t want to.
When his brow lifts farther, I turn and hurry to the corner. It’s a game. It’s one we’ve played many times. I’ve stood in timeout in my clothes and just my panties. Apparently this morning, I’m going to stand here naked.
I hear the water running, which means he’s not looking as I get into position. I spread my feet wider than usual, step back a bit so my bottom sticks out, and drop my forehead into the corner lower than normal, which causes my breasts to hang.
I can’t control my breathing. It’s heavy, as though I’ve been running. My nipples are so hard and tight they ache for his touch. My pussy is dripping arousal down my inner thighs without the gusset of my panties to catch my wetness.
Daddy is going to make me stand here until I’m ready to tell him why I’ve been acting strangely. That’s how this works. He’s not going to remind me.
