Foster
I pretend to work on my computer, but really every bit of my attention is on the sweet precious Little girl sleeping in my bed. I put her on my side intentionally so it would smell like her when I go to sleep later tonight.
It’s hard not to chuckle about how fast she went to sleep after she stopped squirming. She had to be exhausted after everything we’ve done today. The spanking I gave her alone should have worn her out. The trip to town mostly under my control was stressful for her. And finally, she spent a few hours playing with Leah.
I need to wake her up. It’s been half an hour. If I let her sleep any longer, she’ll have trouble sleeping tonight. Besides, she might be frustrated if she’s not in the kitchen by about four. That seems to be the time she starts dinner every day.
I set my laptop aside and shuffle over to her. I can’t help but watch her for a few minutes first. She’s so peaceful. Her lips are parted, and her blond hair is fanned out on my pillow. She’s curled up on her side, and the covers have eased down enough to give me a glimpse of the upper swell of her breasts where she hugs the teddy bear between them.
I’m taking my cues from her, and even though she’s often hesitant and leery about my decisions, her body defies her, reacting positively to my command. I’m not sure she realizes it yet. Every time I try something new, she goes into her head, analyzing my directive while her body flushes.
I’ve wanted to reach between her legs to confirm my suspicions many times today, but it hasn’t really been necessary. I can judge her arousal by the way she fidgets, shuffles back and forth on her feet, squeezes her legs together, holds her breath, shudders. Sometimes I think she might draw blood on her lip when she bites into it in concentration.
It’s honestly shocking how many times she has argued she isn’t Little or isn’t as Little as I’m treating her. I’m not the one choosing the age. She is. She doesn’t seem to recognize that while she’s arguing she’s more of a Middle, she’s behaving like someone younger.
I sit gently on the edge of the bed and stroke my hand up her thigh to land on her hip.
She whimpers adorably and curls in tighter around her bear, reminding me of how difficult it was to wake her up this morning. The woman doesn’t like to be woken up.
Instead of shaking her or speaking or kissing her, I opt to ease the covers away from her, slowly exposing her sweet body to me. When her breast is revealed, I nearly groan. The perfect pink disk of her nipple is hard and swollen.
Without opening her eyes, she releases her bear with her top arm and tries to tug the covers back up. She’s unsuccessful of course. I give a yank, exposing the rest of her.
Her eyes pop open. “Hey…” she accuses.
“Naptime is over.”
She rolls onto her tummy. “Five more minutes. Can I have my covers back?”
“Nope. Are you always this grumpy when you wake up?”
“Maybe…”
I stand, set my hands on her thighs, and run them up over her still-pinkened bottom. There are a few slightly bruised parts that will last a couple of days. Perfect.
I keep skimming my fingers higher, grazing the sides of her breasts and up into her soft hair. I massage her shoulders and her back as she relaxes into the mattress with a soft purr.
When I reach her bottom, I tuck my fingers under her thong and drag it over her hips and down her body, leaving her naked.
She’s panting now. I love it. I love staring at the amazing canvas that is her flawless skin too—except for the places where I spanked her of course, but even that part is gorgeously covered with my handprints.
I grab the ointment I applied earlier and squeeze a generous amount onto my palm. “Part your thighs, sweet girl.”
She spreads her legs wider, but not wide enough, so I reach with my free hand for one of the other pillows and stuff it between her knees, forcing them wider.
She moans softly. So fucking sexy.
I rub my palms together to spread the ointment before setting them on her bottom. “This will help the sting, sweet girl,” I remind her. “Your skin is still heated.”
“I like how it feels,” she murmurs.
“I know you do, but I don’t want you to be too uncomfortable.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Her legs stiffen when I move to her upper thighs.
“Are you wet, Amelia?”
“Yes, Sir,” she whispers on a sigh.
I don’t intend to give her the release she craves right now. I want her to wait. I want her to spend the next several hours feeling needy, wanting me. I want her to follow me with her gaze, squirming at the sight of me, wondering when I might let her come again.
“Please…” Oh, I love that tone.
I finish rubbing in the ointment and pat her bottom. “Time to get dressed.”
She turns her face toward me, coming up on her elbows. “You’re not going to…uh…” She swallows. “You’re going to leave me like this?”
“Yep.” I lift her out of the bed by the hips and stand her on shaky feet.
She sways, still gripping the teddy bear. Her eyes are wide with shock. “Foster…” Her tits are so fucking gorgeous, high and swollen. Her nipples are hard rosy disks. She shudders.
I ease the bear from her hands. “Go potty and come right back.”
She blinks at me.
I point at the door to the bathroom. “Potty, Amelia. And leave the door open.”
She inhales slowly. My dick is so fucking hard. Finally, she turns around and pads to the bathroom. She starts to shut the door and then looks over her shoulder at me and leaves it open. Good girl.
I can’t see the toilet from here, so she has plenty of privacy, but she wouldn’t dare touch herself more than necessary with the door open.
I listen to her pee, then flush the toilet. The water comes on while she washes her hands. Meanwhile, I head toward the dresser to grab the dress I’m going to put on her.
I’m back on the bed when she returns to me. She’s trembling and looking around. “Where are my clothes?”
“Come here, sweet girl.” I reach out a hand, encouraging her to approach.
She shuffles tentatively toward me as I hold up the white dress.
“Where did you get that?” she whispers.
“I made a few purchases. They came this afternoon while you were playing with Leah.” I made a lot of purchases. I’ll gradually introduce her to them over the next few days.
“Oh. But I had my own dress. What’s wrong with it?” She glances around, but I’ve put her dress in the washer. It’s nowhere in sight.
“There’s nothing wrong with that dress, sweet girl. It was very pretty. But for the next two days, I’m going to dress you myself.”
“Oh,” she repeats.
“Arms up.”
She glances at the dress. “I need my bra.”
“Nope. No bras, remember?”
She draws in a breath and lifts her trembling arms.
I slide the cotton dress over her head and down her arms. When it falls into place, I know I’ve made the right decision. It fits her perfectly. It has short poofy sleeves that gather at her biceps. The front is flat over her breasts and then flairs out, the skirt pleated. It’s simple. White. Cotton. Young. Her nipples are hard obvious points. It barely covers her bottom.
“I don’t know, Foster…” When she calls me Foster, I know she’s in a more adult headspace. I’d love for her to call me Daddy, but I’m not going to bring that up. She’s not ready for that step. She may never be. I can’t know for sure yet. But I can tell when she’s in a deeper Little space because she calls me Sir.
I lift her chin so she meets my gaze. “No one is going to see you tonight except me, Craig, and Leah. You know Leah will be dressed similarly. It’ll be good for you to get into the headspace tonight so when the rest of the guests arrive tomorrow, you’ll be more prepared.”
She nods slowly. “Okay.”
I reach behind me and grab the panties I bought her. White like the dress. Full cut. As I hold them out, I give her options. “You have two choices. Panties or no panties. If you think the elastic is going to abrade against your sensitive bottom, you can go without.”
She stares at me. “Can’t I have my thong?”
“Was that one of the options I gave you?” I lift a brow.
Her shoulders drop. “No, Sir.”
“Those thongs you own are damn sexy, sweet girl, but for now, I want you to wear what I’ve chosen.”
“Yes, Sir.” She reaches for them.
I shake my head and hold them out of her reach. “I’ll do it. Hold my shoulders.”
She sets her dainty hands on my shoulders, and when I bend down and tap her right foot, she lifts it and then the other.
I pull the panties up over her hips. “There.” I pat her bottom. “You look so pretty. Let’s fix your hair.” I stand and take her hand to lead her into the bathroom.
Facing her away from the mirror, I brush out her soft hair, part it down the middle, and gather it into two pigtails high on her head. When I’m finished, I put white ribbons in it, tying them into bows before I spin her around. “It’s been a while since I’ve had a Little girl. Did I do okay?”
She stares at herself a moment and then tips her head back to look at me and smiles. “Yes, Sir.”
My chest is tight. Damn, this is going well. “Let’s grab your sandals and get you to the kitchen then.”
In the living room, I sit her on the couch and squat down to put her sandals on. Moments later, we’re out the door, me holding her hand as she shuffles along beside me, dragging her feet.
“This is going to be weird. I’m not sure how I feel about it,” she says.
I glance down at her as we approach the back of the house. “What’s going to be weird, sweet girl?”
“Straddling the two worlds. Doing my grownup job while I’m dressed as a Little. Taking orders from you while I’m working.” She comes to a stop at the back door, not moving to go inside.
I turn to face her and decide to come to her level. Crouching down, I end up low enough she has to tip her head down a bit to meet my gaze. I set my hands on her outer thighs and rub gently up and down, my fingers reaching under her dress and stroking her sweet bottom.
She rocks forward, her eyes glazing a bit with that lustful look I love so much.
“We’ll take this one step at a time, sweet girl, okay?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“I’ll keep a close eye on you and adjust if I think you’re struggling or stressed.”
“Okay.”
“But I want you to be open-minded. It’s just the four of us. No one is going to judge you. You know that, right?”
“Yes, Sir.” She nods, her pigtails bobbing back and forth.
“I bet you can cook dinner in any outfit, even naked.” I wink at her.
She giggles. “Blindfolded, too.”
I lift my brows.
She rolls her eyes. “Don’t get any ideas.”
“Me? It was your idea. But I promise not to blindfold you while you’re around knives and stoves.”
“Good idea. Could you maybe go do something else while I cook? You’re distracting.”
I grin. “I’m glad I’m distracting. And yes, if you’d like, I’ll leave you be for a while. But I have a few rules.”
She groans. “You always have a few rules.”
“Yep. And if you follow them, you’ll avoid the naughty corner.” I lift a brow.
She sighs. “Yes, Sir. Let’s hear these rules.”
“No climbing up to get anything that’s too high. If your feet need to leave the ground, you let me get it.”
“But what if you’re not around?”
“I’ll be close enough.” I tap her nose. “Climbing onto those stools isn’t safe for Little girls.”
“Okay,” she drawls.
“No rushing around so fast you slip and fall. I’ve seen you do that. There’s no reason to be frantic. You have plenty of time to get dinner ready.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“And no lifting anything too heavy. If you have a pot of pasta that needs straining, I’ll get it. If you need to carry a large dish to the table, get me for that also.”
“Fine. Am I permitted to cook?” she sasses.
I stand, chuckling. “Eventually, but first, I think you need to get up close and personal with the timeout corner.”
She groans as I open the back door. “But—”
I grip her chin and meet her gaze again. “If you continue to argue with me, I’ll double your time in the corner. We’ll start with five minutes. You want to add to it?”
“No, Sir.” She shakes her head, but her body trembles with a cute little shiver and she crosses her arms. Not fast enough for me to miss the tight nipples. I don’t miss the way she squeezes her legs together either.
My cock is in revolt. Demanding I take her and make her mine. I felt confident Amelia was a Little from the moment I met her, but even with all her defiance, she repeatedly surprises me. The fact that she’s now aroused from being reprimanded makes my heart soar.
Her sassy mouth sounded more like a Middle, but I suspect she was just trying it out to see what would happen. She’s back to being Little now.
I set a palm on the small of her back as we enter and I lead her directly to the timeout corner. Angling her to face the boring wall, I press her closer. “Forehead against the corner. Hands clasped behind your back. Feet wide.”
She twists her head to look at me. “That’s not how Craig made Leah stand.”
I lift both brows. “Am I Craig?”
She lets her shoulders drop in defeat. “No, Sir.”
I nod toward the corner and wait for her to get into the position I’ve instructed. I watch as she realizes it’s impossible to keep her nipples from touching the walls, and when she tries to arch her back to avoid that contact, I press between her shoulder blades.
She gasps as her tits touch the surface. I love the way she’s panting.
“Toes against the wall, sweet girl.” Keeping her feet wide and touching the floorboards, combined with her hands clasped at her back and her forehead absorbing her weight will ensure she ends up focusing all her attention on her nipples. I’m fully aware of this. Every breath will draw her attention to her plight.
Her whimper is sweet, sweet music.
“Relax your hips, Amelia. If you let them fall forward, it will take the strain off your back.” I lean in and kiss her neck as she obeys me. “Good girl.”
I step away from her, find the kitchen timer on the counter, and set it for five minutes. I immediately love this device. It’s ticking away the seconds in the otherwise silent room. Perfect.
I’m grateful neither Craig nor Leah comes into the kitchen while Amelia is in timeout. She’s not ready for people to witness her discipline. But I keep a close eye on the doorway that leads to the front of the mansion, thinking I’ll hold up a hand if anyone enters to let them know now is a bad time.
When the timer finally goes off, it resonates so loudly in the room Amelia flinches. She doesn’t move from her spot, however. Good girl.
“Your punishment is over, sweet girl.”
She pushes slowly from the wall and turns to face me as I approach her. I need to touch her. Touching her is my new addiction. Every time I’m not touching her, I feel restless.
When I reach her, I cup her cheek as she tips her head back. “I’m proud of you. I know you were curious about what it would feel like to stand in the corner. Do you feel better?”
She nods, a slight shiver following. “Yes, Sir.”
I glance down at her beaded nipples and cup one of her breasts with my free hand. When my thumb glides over her nipple, she arches into me, whimpering. “If I were to touch your pussy, would I find it wet?”
Her cheeks turn pink and she glances down in embarrassment.
I slide my finger under her chin and tip her head back again, forcing her to look at me. “No reason to be embarrassed, Amelia. You’re not the first Little to get aroused while being disciplined.”
She licks her lips, eyes wide.
“You’re learning what turns you on. We both are. That’s normal and to be expected. I know you sassed me on purpose to see what I would do. Also normal. But now we both know being punished might make you horny. I’m sure you’ll challenge me a few more times just to test that theory. Also okay. However, keep in mind I won’t let you manipulate me. If I find you intentionally misbehaving to fulfill a craving for negative attention, I’ll find better ways to correct your behavior that won’t be nearly as attractive as standing in the corner. Understood?”
“Yes, Sir,” she whispers.
I pinch her nipple, making her jump in place, and then release her breast to ease my hand around to her back and lower to cup her bottom.
She winces. Her butt is still sore.
I have to bend my knees to reach lower so I can slip my hand under her dress and palm her over her panties.
She jerks her gaze to the doorway.
“Eyes on me, sweet girl.”
She gasps as she turns her attention back to me. “Sir…”
“Have Leah and Craig seen your naked bottom before?”
She hesitates before nodding. “Yes, Sir.”
I let her think about that a moment before continuing. “How is this different, Amelia?” I say, gently trying to get her to think about what is making her self-conscious.
“Uh, because I don’t submit to anyone outside of the club. And I’ve never done so as a Little, I guess.”
“Good girl. Do you think either of those things are truly important reasons to be embarrassed?”
“I guess not, Sir.”
“Do you think either Craig or Leah would judge you or whisper about your choices behind your back if they caught you over my knee or even standing naked in the corner?”
She swallows hard before answering in barely a whisper. “No, Sir.”
I kiss her forehead. “So it won’t be a problem if I discipline you in front of them, right?”
“It might be a problem for my bottom,” she mutters.
I chuckle. “Oh, that sassy mouth is going to land you in serious hot water. I can tell already I’m going to have to get creative in order to successfully ensure my punishments are effective.”
She shakes her head. “I’ll be good, Sir.”
“You can try,” I tease as I slide my hand into her panties to cup her bare bottom.
She flinches for a second and then visibly forces herself to relax.
“Age play is a different type of submission. It has a different mindset. It’s not surprising you’re a bit embarrassed at the thought of being exposed to other people. Having your bottom exposed when you’re wearing a youthful dress and panties while lying over my knees is not the same as scheduling a time to get spanked or flogged at the club in nothing but a thong.”
She nods. “That’s it exactly.”
I give her sore cheek a light squeeze. “It’s also possible you’ll never lose that sense of embarrassment, and that won’t disappoint me. Feeling a bit of humiliation when you’re being disciplined is often part of age play. Many Littles, and Daddies for that matter, enjoy that feeling.”
She holds my gaze, listening intently, her eyebrows slightly drawn together as she thinks about my words.
“I know I’m doing my job if your cheeks pinken and you hide your face when I spank you or reprimand you in front of others. As long as that humiliation is at a healthy level. It’s not meant to be so mortifying you either don’t enjoy being Little or force yourself to be perfect to avoid discipline.”
“Okay.”
“One thing you can do to calm your racing heart if you feel overly embarrassed is to remind yourself everyone in the room enjoys the same kink. It also helps to remember you’re not doing anything you haven’t done at Surrender in front of far more people, including strangers. Okay?”
“Yes, Sir.”
I can’t resist the urge to reach lower in her panties and drag my fingers through her folds. She’s soaked. She’s fucking precious.
She gasps as I remove my hand seconds later. “Sir…”
“I like it when you’re a little off balance.” I grin.
“Okay, but maybe not when I’m about to use a knife,” she suggests.
I kiss her forehead and hug her close. “Noted. I’ll let you get to work. Remember my rules.”
“Yes, Sir. No running. No carrying heavy things. No climbing on stools. Got it.” She says all this like a teenager who’s been told to be home by ten. Exasperated. Just short of rolling her eyes and cocking out a hip.
“Watch that sassy mouth, sweet girl.” I release her and pat her bottom to guide her toward the kitchen. “I’m going to go find Craig. I’ll check on you in a bit.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Amelia adjusts her dress as she walks toward the fridge, tugging it down as if she might be able to make it longer. It’s cute. She’s worming her way deep into my heart. I hope I don’t get burned.