Amelia
I collapse onto Foster’s chest, breathing heavily. Something shifts inside me. The wild woman who just rode this amazing man, making herself come on his cock, making him come at the same time, disappears. Left in her wake is the Little girl who called him Daddy while he fucked her.
I feel timid and shy and oddly embarrassed about what I just did. He’s stroking my back, whispering the sweetest words to me, running a hand through my hair and down to my bottom.
I’ve never let anyone enter me there. No one has ever asked actually. It’s never come up. But I couldn’t deny him, nor can I deny it kicked my arousal up two notches, bombarding me with sensations I never imagined.
We’re both breathing heavily, his chest lifting me with every inhale. I’m too heavy to lift off him and I need a few moments to gather my emotions. It seems like I’m going to cry. Why would I cry?
I hold my breath, trying to stop the onslaught of feelings from coming to the surface. But I lose the battle and a sniffle escapes.
Foster stiffens, his hands coming to my shoulders, “Amelia?” He tries to lift me. I don’t let him.
“Sweetie?”
I sob now and then scramble off his chest to curl under the covers next to him.
He lets me go but then leans over me, pulling me against his chest, spooning me. He’s touching me everywhere, blanketing me with his body.
Tears fall. They won’t stop. I don’t know what they’re for. They make no sense. I want them to stop. I will them to stop. But they keep falling, and I cry harder.
“Sweet, sweet girl…” Foster tries to comfort me. “Does something hurt?”
I shake my head.
He holds me tighter, rocks me gently, strokes my arm. “I’ve got you. Daddy’s got you.” He lets me cry it out, not badgering me again.
Finally, I suck back the last of the unwarranted sobs and let my body relax. If I was embarrassed before, I’m mortified now. How humiliating.
“I think you’re experiencing subdrop, Amelia,” he whispers.
I frown against the pillow. My face is streaked with tears. “What?” I know what subdrop is, and it’s not this.
“Subdrop. Sort of like what you experience after a hard spanking. Same kind of thing. But instead of a spanking this time, your euphoria came from sex.”
Is that possible? “I’ve never had that happen before,” I murmur. I’ve also never had sex that fucking fantastic before.
He eases back and rolls me onto my back. Cupping my face, he meets my gaze. “It was very intense. You were straddling a lot of personas at once. Part of you was Little, part of you was an adult, part of you was trying to be dominant, part of you was submitting. Your adrenaline was rushing. Your endorphins were in high gear. You had two intense orgasms. I’m not surprised you would crash after all that.”
I stare at him. Hmm. “I have to get up. I need to get to the main house.”
He shakes his head. “No. You have to stay right here for a while. It’s early still. The alarm hasn’t gone off, sweet girl. I’m going to get you some juice and then I’ll help you shower and dress. We’ll take our time.”
I nod. “Okay.” I can’t argue with that. I’m not sure I can do much of anything yet. I’m heavy and limp.
Foster eases off the bed and pads to the bathroom. He doesn’t shut the door. I hear him peeing and then the water running. When he comes back, he has a wet washcloth in his hands. He wipes my cheeks and my neck.
I realize I’m lying here naked and exposed and shiver, which causes him to pull the covers over me and kiss my forehead. “Don’t move.”
Not sure I could.
Minutes later, he’s back, and he has a sippy cup in his hand filled with orange juice. “This will help bring your blood sugar up, sweet girl.” He climbs onto the bed, sits with his back to the headboard, and lifts my head onto his lap. He’s still naked and doesn’t seem fazed by this fact.
I’m uncertain about the sippy cup when he hands it to me, and I glance at him. I have a sippy cup in my Little-exploration box, but he doesn’t know that. Using one makes me feel like I’m agreeing to a much younger age. I’m hesitant.
“Don’t overthink it, sweetie. It’s the easiest way for you to get some fluids without spilling.”
“Okay,” I whisper as I tip it back and take a sip. It tastes so good. Sweet and cold. I keep drinking. Eventually, I feel myself coming back into my body.
“Feel better?”
“Yes, Sir.”
He strokes my arm. “Good.”
“Maybe I could get up easier in the mornings if you brought me juice like that,” I suggest tentatively. It was kind of nice, once I got over the fact that the cup is so babyish.
“It’s not a bottle, sweet girl,” he points out. “It’s just a sippy cup. Little girls use them even when they’re older to avoid spills. Like if you wanted to drink on the couch while you watch TV.”
I nod. “Okay.” I have done exactly that when I was alone.
“Think you can shower now?”
I tip my head back and look at him. “You’re still going to wash me, Sir?” For some reason, I like this idea. I’m still trembling a bit from the weird subdrop, but I want him near me. I want him touching me. I missed him while he was in the kitchen.
“Of course.” He eases off the bed and scoops me into his arms, cradling my naked body as he pads to the bathroom. He lifts the toilet seat and sets me on the potty. “Pee while the water warms up, okay?”
I nod, but I’m not sure I can with him standing so close. Luckily, he turns on the shower and faces me. “I’ll be right back.” This man has no modesty. His fantastic half-hard erection is just…there. Right in front of me. I can’t keep my eyes from roaming up and down his body as he leaves.
I jerk my attention back to my task. I hurry up and empty my bladder so I’m done before he returns. I’ve already flushed and washed my hands. Silly since I’m about to get into the shower.
I’m wobbly, and Foster notices, holding me steady as he opens the enclosure and urges me to step under the spray. He stands behind me, wraps an arm around my waist, and washes my body without letting me go. It’s awkward, but he manages, and I let him.
“Your hair is wet now. Do you want me to wash it again this morning?”
“No. It’s okay. Just a little conditioner.”
He tips my head under and somehow manages to put conditioner in my hair with one hand also. When he’s done and I’m all rinsed, he sits me on the ledge. “Will you be okay while Daddy showers?”
“Yes, Sir.” I feel self-conscious again. I’m so naked. Exposed.
He hurries and then he turns off the water, ushers me out of the enclosure, and wraps a huge towel around me before settling me on the toilet seat.
I snuggle into the warm towel as he dries off and gets dressed. It’s slightly disappointing when his cock disappears into his boxers and then his jeans. But then he’s patting me dry again for the third time in twenty-four hours.
I’m so used to this treatment that I’m looking forward to it. I’m not sure what I would’ve done if he’d tossed me some clothes and told me to get dressed. It’s like I’ve forgotten how to take care of myself in the morning after one day.
I stare at my face in the mirror as he has me stand so he can work on my hair. I’m not sure I recognize the girl looking back at me. She’s so Little.
Back in the bedroom, Foster puts another dress on me. He’s obviously done some shopping. This one is also comfortable cotton. It’s pink with little white flowers all over it. He puts pink panties on me too and then sits me on the edge of the bed to add ruffled pink socks and new white tennis shoes that are just my size.
The socks and shoes with the dress make me feel younger than yesterday with my sandals. He’s put pigtails and ribbons in again, but I can’t see them all the time so they don’t serve as the same constant reminder of my age play like the socks and my obvious nipples.
“Do you need some more time before we go? I’m sure Leah and Craig would understand if you’re a bit later this morning.” His brows are drawn together in concern.
“No, Sir. I’m okay.” I refuse to be late to work. It’s my job. I haven’t even been here one week, though it seems like a year.
He kisses my forehead and takes my hand, walking with me to the big house.
I feel stronger and more myself when I step into the kitchen, but Foster hovers. “Can I get anything for you? Will you let me help?” His brow is still furrowed.
“No.” I give him a shove. “Go do your outdoor things. Let me cook.”
He sets his hands on my shoulders and meets my gaze. “I’m worried about you, sweet girl. Don’t push me away.”
“I’m fine. I promise. I just need some space.” My mind is racing. I kind of need to climb into a corner and rock back and forth for a while so I can think and clear my mind. Maybe in the dark. I’d sort of like to take that sippy cup with me too. I’m beyond confused. Who am I?
Foster holds my gaze for a while and then nods. “I’ll be back in half an hour to check on you. You sure you don’t want me to get anything down from up high first?”
“Nope.” I force my voice to be cheerful. Too cheerful.
He narrows his eyes skeptically.
I roll mine. “Give me space, Foster,” I say, my voice more grownup.
He inhales slowly and releases me. “Okay.” He backs up several steps before turning around and heading out the door.
I watch him for a moment as he runs a hand through his hair. He looks lost and kind of hurt, and I feel bad, but I need to worry about me right now. And breakfast. Maybe if I bury myself in preparing food, I’ll find myself and get my head right.
With no other real options, I take a deep cleansing breath, blow it out, and turn toward the fridge. Minutes later, I have everything I need to make veggie omelets, hashbrowns, bacon, and sausage. A half an hour later, I’m deep in my element, feeling much better.
Foster pokes his head in to check on me, but he leaves me be when I tell him I’m doing great.
The next person to enter the kitchen when I’m almost done is Craig. “Hey there, Amy. It smells so good in here. I could smell it all the way upstairs. Our guests will be lured down for breakfast every day.”
I grin at him. “I hope so. That’s the plan. What time is everyone going to arrive this morning?”
“They’ll be here by about ten. Apparently, Lucy and Eve ganged up on Roman and Colton, insisting they wanted to get here early because they couldn’t stand to wait another moment to see all the changes we’ve made in the past month.”
“They’re going to love it. Do we need to save them some breakfast?” I worry. I’ll have to make some changes if this is the case.
“Nope. They’re eating at home before they hit the road. You don’t need to plan on them until lunch, and I want you to take the time to hang with the other girls, so please keep lunch simple. Can you maybe do a sandwich spread?”
I nod. “You’re sure that’s okay?” I want to impress Roman. It’s his mansion. His resort really. I don’t want him to think the chef Craig hired can’t cook.
“Yep. I already spoke to Roman about it. He agreed.”
I bite my lip, freezing in place for a moment.
Craig catches my hesitation and comes to the island to lean on his elbows across from me. “I’d trust Roman with my life, and I’m sure you would too. You know him. Colton too. If they were any other guests, I wouldn’t have breathed a word about your explorations, but this is Roman. Besides, you’ll benefit from some time with Lucy. Eve, too.”
I swallow. He’s right, but I’m still nervous. Of course he told Master Roman about me. If he hadn’t, everyone would have arrived shocked and confused. Hell, I’m shocked and confused.
I try to busy myself by turning around to give the hashbrowns an unnecessary stir. It’s so real. Four people are going to join my bubble in a few hours, doubling the number of people who know I’m exploring something I’m still uncertain about.
Craig comes to my side and leans a hip against the counter. “I would hug you if I didn’t think Foster might have me decapitated,” he teases.
I glance at him. “That’s silly.”
He chuckles. “I don’t think so. I’ve never seen Foster like this. He’s completely wrapped around your little finger.”
“Isn’t that backward?” I’m pretty sure I’m wrapped around his.
“Nope. Look at me.”
At his demand, the demand of a Dom, I stop stirring and face him, suddenly very conscious of my dress, my shoes, my damn nipples. I don’t cross my arms, but I want to. It’s not like he hasn’t seen nipples before. He’s Leah’s Daddy. He doesn’t let her wear a bra either.
He doesn’t even glance at my boobs. He searches my gaze. “Are you okay, Amy? You seem a little off.”
“I’m fine.” Aren’t I?
“If you need someone to talk to, I’m here for you. Anytime.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
“I know you’re exploring, and I’m completely in favor of you doing so, but I also want to be certain you’re making your own choices and you’re happy.”
“Okay.” My heart is racing. I don’t know how to respond. It’s very kind of Craig to check on me, but this morning I’m too confused to dissect my feelings. I take a breath. “I don’t want this to affect my work.”
“It’s not going to change anything as far as I’m concerned. I realize if you decide to go all-in with Foster, things will be different, but we’ll work with you to find a balance, okay?”
I nod. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure. Shall I tell Leah breakfast is ready?”
“Yes, Sir.” I stand taller and turn to the warming oven to remove the sausages.
“Everything okay in here?”
Foster’s deep voice startles me, and I almost drop the pan. I hadn’t heard him enter.
“Yep,” Craig declares. “I’m just going to get Leah.” He shoves off the counter and leaves the kitchen.
Foster comes to me, grabs some potholders, and gently takes the pan from my hands. “Let me carry that, sweet girl,” he says softly.
I release the pan and watch the amazingly sexy man I rode this morning as he heads toward the table. His ass is fine. It’s even better naked. I nearly jump out of my skin when he turns back toward me and catches me staring at him.
He gives me a slow grin and suddenly everything weird between us melts a little. I rush toward him and wrap my arms around him, hugging him tightly. I love the way he holds me, pressing me against his chest, his hand sliding up to cup the back of my head.
I stay there for a long time, not letting go. When I finally tip my head back, he’s smiling down at me. “Better?”
“Yes, Sir.”
He pats my bottom. “Let me help you carry the rest to the table.”
I point to the heavier things still needing to be brought over and grab the lighter ones myself. By the time Leah and Craig join us, I’m starving.
Foster settles me on my chair and cuts up my food like he did last night, but it’s not as startling this morning. Nor is the plastic cup of milk. Nor is the way he taps my legs to remind me not to squeeze my knees together.
I’m still uncertain and nervous about adding four people to this strange role-play adventure, but I’m going to give it my all and see what happens.