Brea
“I have something to show you, kitten.”
I smile. More? He’s shown me so many things. What else does he have to show me today?
He takes my hand and leads me to the short hallway where the bathroom and two bedrooms are located. He pauses at the spare bedroom, his hand on the knob. “It’s not finished but I’ve been working on making this a room for you to stay in.”
My eyes widen in surprise. I’m both excited and nervous. “Like the one Leah has?”
“Yep. Not as fancy yet because I wanted you to pick things out. I don’t have an eye for that sort of thing like you do.” He finally opens the door.
I step inside slowly, shocked to find he has filled the room with furniture. How did he manage all this without me knowing?
“Look around, kitten. Tell me what you think. I figured out you like bright colors when you were shopping for clothes, so I decided to paint every piece a different color.”
I’m choked up as my gaze shifts from the purple bed to the yellow toybox, red dresser, green bookshelf, and blue rocking chair. Dark, bold colors. It’s so perfect. I love it so much. I’m overwhelmed.
“Do you like it, kitten?” he asks gently. “We can change it if you don’t. It’s just paint.”
I spin around to face him, fighting back tears. “I love it so much.”
He releases a breath and smiles. “Yeah?”
I run to him and throw myself at his body, hugging him tightly. “You’re the bestest Daddy ever.” I’m truly humbled and surprised. Also a bit nervous. This isn’t my cabin. It’s not his either. It’s a place he’s staying for a month. Maybe he’ll stay longer, but I can’t believe he went to all this trouble for me.
He rubs my back in that way I’ve grown to love. It soothes me. I really like when he touches me, no matter what part of me he touches. I even liked when he spanked me earlier because I enjoyed being draped over his lap. I know his spanking wasn’t hard. He was deliberately gentle for my first time. I’ve watched Foster spank Amy much harder. Though I think in her case she likes it that way.
Craig spanks Leah harder too, but not nearly as hard as Foster. Once Foster shocked me when he took Amy over his knee in the kitchen, pushed her dress up, pulled her panties down to her knees, and spanked her until her bottom was bright red.
I tried not to stare, but it was mesmerizing. Shocking me further, he reached between her legs and touched her private parts when he was finished. The moan that came from Amy’s mouth was not from pain.
At the time, I was confused, partly by her reaction, partly by mine. I still don’t fully understand what she was thinking or feeling, but after having Niko spank me earlier today, I think I get it better. It hurt a bit, but the way he cupped my bottom and smoothed his hand over my lower cheeks and thighs brought out something inside me I can only imagine was arousal.
I shudder at the memory, and Daddy tips me back to meet my gaze. “What are you thinking about, kitten?”
My cheeks heat. How does he always suspect when I’m deep in thought and call me on it? “I don’t want to tell you, Daddy.” He let me get away with that answer this morning. Will he again?
“Okay, Little one.” He winks. “But I hope you can eventually share your thoughts with me.” He releases me, grabs my hand, and lures me toward the twin bed. “For now, it’s nap time.”
“Nap time?” I watch as he pulls the purple comforter back to reveal purple sheets underneath. “I thought purple was your favorite color, so I did the bed in purple.”
I grin. I think he’s right. Purple is probably my favorite. The bed looks so inviting. It’s a daybed with three sides and is positioned against the wall. The back has a long pillow in a rainbow of colors. It’s as big as me. On one end is a fluffy pillow for my head. On the other end is a giant pile of stuffed animals.
I’m not sure about this plan though. “I don’t nap, Daddy,” I tell him.
“You do now, kitten.” He lifts me off my feet and sets me on the edge of the bed before bending down to remove my tennis shoes. Seconds later, he urges me to lie back and pulls the covers over me. “Scoot toward the body pillow, kitten.”
I slide toward the wall, unsure about this plan. The blanket seems strangely heavy, and when I lift the edge of it, I find I’m right.
“It’s a weighted blanket, kitten. I’m hoping between the weight of it, the body pillow, and a row of stuffies, you’ll feel like you’re not alone.” He scoops up a pile of the stuffed animals from the end of the bed and lines them all down my side.
I giggle. If I were any other person, I’d probably feel like I’m suffocating. But he’s right. This is giving me the illusion there are other people in the bed. It’s instantly comforting. Even better than the arrangement he had for me in my cabin.
When he’s done tucking me in, he turns toward the dresser and grabs a doll from on top of it, holding it up for me to see as he returns. “What do you think? Some Little girls have a special stuffie they like to sleep with. I thought you might like a doll instead. But it’s up to you of course. If she’s too creepy, you can pick another one to be your favorite.”
I reach out for her. She’s a soft baby doll. Not the kind with a hard plastic face and hands. The kind I can hug and snuggle with in bed. Her clothes are sewn onto her body, a purple shirt and skirt. Her hair is red like mine and she has purple ribbons in the two yarn pigtails.
I pull her toward my chest and hug her tight, tears coming to my eyes. “I love her so much, Daddy.” I would love her no matter what because Daddy picked her out for me. I bet he spent a lot of time choosing her, and that makes her super special.
He’s smiling as he tries to find a small edge to sit on the bed. His hand comes to my thigh and he pats me. “You might be too warm with all your clothes on under that weighted blanket. If you get too hot, tomorrow we’ll take your dress and leggings off before your nap. The weighted blanket is more important than your clothes for comfort.”
I purse my lips and nod. The thought of Daddy taking my clothes off makes butterflies flutter around in my tummy. The kiss we had earlier today and then another one a few minutes ago were our first steps toward a more intimate relationship.
I want more, and I want it with Niko, but I’m nervous. I’m sure he realizes I have no experience with sex. I understand the basic mechanics, but that’s about it. Before meeting Niko, I hadn’t had any idea the sort of feelings that came with wanting to be intimate with another person.
I’m understanding more with each passing day because I have feelings for him. Lots of them. Sometimes my nipples get stiff and tingly when I stare at him. When I sit on his lap, my private parts respond in a way that makes me squeeze my thighs together. My panties get wet sometimes too. It scared me the first few times.
I really should ask Amy or Leah some questions. It will be embarrassing, but not as embarrassing as floundering with Daddy if he ever decides to take things further with me.
He’s obviously in no hurry, which is both sweet and maddening. I’m certain Leah or Amy or both would answer my questions without making fun of me. They have to know I’m inexperienced.
The thing that makes me the most nervous is messing up and disappointing Niko. I don’t want him to decide he isn’t interested in me because I’m so innocent.
Daddy leans over and kisses my forehead. “Rest, kitten. I’ll wake you up in an hour.” He pats my thigh again and then stands and leaves the room. I love how he doesn’t fully shut the door. He leaves it open a few inches.
It seems ridiculous to think I could sleep in the middle of the day, but I’m so cozy, I don’t argue. I probably will get too hot, but there’s no way I’m going to take off my clothes in Daddy’s cabin.
I can still feel the weight of his hand on my thigh as if he’s still touching me, and I don’t move an inch so the sensation of his touch doesn’t disappear. I smile as I close my eyes, picturing him sitting next to me, his hand trailing up to my belly and then higher.
My breasts feel heavy and my mouth opens to draw in more oxygen as he reaches my chest and cups my boob.
I’m clutching my new doll in one arm under the covers, and I instinctively ease the other hand up from my side to my breast, cupping it in the way I imagine Daddy would do.
It feels nice. My nipple is hard under my bra, and I find it with my thumb and stroke it. I gasp at the sensation before pursing my lips and glancing at the door. I hope Daddy didn’t hear me. My face heats to a thousand degrees.
I’ve never touched myself like this before. How could I with so many sisters in the room, some of them in the same bed as me? I suppose I could have explored my body since I arrived here, but I haven’t. Until Niko, I’ve never had the urge, and since meeting him, I’ve fought the desire every time it surfaced.
Is it wrong to feel the things I’m feeling? I don’t think so. I’m pretty sure Amy and Leah feel similar things. I’ve seen the flush on their cheeks when they look at their Daddies.
I wish I knew more about sex. Why haven’t I asked? I could probably use Daddy’s computer to look stuff up. I’m certain he would let me if I asked. But he also might hover and find out what I’m reading, so that won’t work.
I close my eyes again and hold my breath while I touch my nipple once more. My panties and bras are matching sets that Leah bought me. They’re very pretty. I’ve never owned anything so pretty before. My old ones were all white cotton and simple. I don’t know what most women wear, but I assume from what I’ve seen online they have really sexy undergarments that their husbands like to see on them.
Maybe I should order some. That thought makes me flush again. I doubt I could do that without Niko finding out either. Unless I got Leah or Amy to help me. That might work. Plus, I assume they know what kinds of things men like to see on women.
On the other hand, now that I think about it, I don’t think Leah or Amy wear a bra very often, and both of them wear cotton panties. I know because I’ve seen them lots of times under their short dresses or when they get spanked.
I’m certain most women wear bras. I wasn’t living under a rock. Okay, I was totally living under a rock. That’s for sure. But I did leave the house. I know women wear bras. All kinds. Half the time they don’t even try to cover them. In the summer, I’ve seen women in all kinds of skimpy dresses that do nothing to hide their lacy, colorful bras. I’ve also seen the edges of their tiny panties sticking out the top of their pants.
Women sure do have a lot of different styles. But Littles… I suspect the reason they don’t wear bras is because it’s not fitting for their age play. Most of the guests don’t wear them either. I often see their nipples straining against the front of their shirts or dresses.
At first, it was shocking, but I’ve grown used to noticing the sharp points of nipples against thin fabric. I’m not sure I could ever wear something that revealing. It would embarrass me.
Perhaps that’s from years of dressing overly modestly, but it’s ingrained in me to keep my thighs and torso completely covered. I hope Daddy doesn’t ask me not to wear a bra.
Speaking of which, that exact garment is currently keeping me from touching my nipple the way I crave. I slide my hand down and reach under my dress before easing it slowly back up my torso. All the while, I pretend my hand is Daddy’s. I pretend it’s much larger with rough fingertips and torment my naked skin.
I think about what it would feel like if he were giving me a bath. He would have to stroke my breasts if he bathed me, right? And between my legs too. I squeeze my thighs together.
When I reach my breast, I tease the upper swell of flesh before tugging the top of the cup down and finding my nipple. I gasp as I tap it and whimper when I grip it between my thumb and finger to pinch it gently.
I’m not me. It’s not my hand. It’s Daddy’s hand. He’s touching me. He’s driving me mad with a new kind of feeling I’ve never let myself explore. My breast is heavy and tingly.
The butterflies are fluttering around so fast that I’m growing restless. I squeeze my thighs together and draw my knees up against the foreign pressure that’s growing between my legs.
The sensations are overwhelming and frustrating but kind of nice at the same time. I can’t seem to stop. With my head tipped back, I arch my chest and pinch my nipple again before jerking my hand free of that bra cup and switching to the other.
I release the doll to flatten my other hand on my belly, dragging it lower until I cup my private parts over my leggings. It’s hot and wet down there. My panties must be soaked.
After pinching my other nipple, I flick my fingertip over the swollen bud over and over, making it distend farther. The pressure builds. Pressure toward what? It almost hurts. It’s driving me crazy now. All I know is I want more.
I wish I wasn’t wearing a bra. Or a dress for that matter. The thought of touching myself between my legs is brand new and equally foreign, but it’s consuming me.
“Brea?”
My entire world comes to a halt and I freeze at the sound of my name.
Oh, God. I can’t move. I must have been making a lot of noise. I have no idea. My knees are drawn up. One hand is clutching my private parts between my legs. The other is inside my bra.
All the blood drains from my face as Niko’s hand lands on my shin. “Kitten, I’m so sorry. I heard you moaning and thought you were crying or having trouble sleeping. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
I suddenly find the ability to move, yanking my naughty hands from their locations and turning onto my side to face the wall. I can’t breathe. I’ll never be able to breathe again. Or look at Niko. Or leave this bed or this room. I want the world to swallow me whole. I’m so embarrassed.
I will Niko to leave, but he sits on the edge of the bed instead. His hand comes to my hip. “Kitten…”
I curl into a ball as all the pleasure that had been building and got abruptly cut off leaves me shaking and mortified.
“Brea, I can’t express how sorry I am. I really fucked this up. I should have knocked or realized or… I didn’t mean to interrupt you.” His voice is strained.
I’m going to need oxygen soon, but I can’t remember how to breathe. The blood has returned to my face. It’s so hot I’m going to spontaneously combust.
He hesitates and then draws in a deep breath. “There’s no reason to be embarrassed, Brea. Everyone masturbates. It’s perfectly normal.”
Would he please stop talking?
“I know you’re embarrassed, but I want you to know it’s hot as fuck. The thought of you touching yourself has my cock so hard I’m going to need to masturbate too as soon as I leave this room.”
I gasp, shocked at his words. At least it causes me to breathe.
He rubs my hip. “Now I’m wondering how often you do that and if you think of me when you touch yourself and if you’ve been wishing I would touch you like that and if you’ve been frustrated that I haven’t and about a hundred other questions.”
Is he crazy? I shake my head and burrow deeper into the pillow before reaching out to grab the body pillow against the back of the daybed so I can hide more thoroughly against it.
“Hmm,” he says. “You’re shaking your head. To which question? No, you don’t think of me when you orgasm, or no you don’t do it often or no you don’t want me to touch you myself?” His voice is slightly teasing. He’s trying to lighten the mood.
I’m gradually feeling like I might live through this experience, but I’m still too mortified to respond or face him. Ever again.
“What I hate the most is that I interrupted you before you were finished and now you’re probably aching,” he continues.
Finished with what?
I’m definitely aching. There’s a tight knot in my tummy where the butterflies used to be.
“Brea, Little one, I’m not going to leave you until you talk to me. I would be a horrible Daddy if I walked out of here right now. I don’t want you to feel like you shouldn’t have been masturbating in my cabin. Some Daddies don’t let their Little girls touch themselves because they like to be the ones to give them pleasure, but we’re not in a place where I would make that kind of demand on you, Brea. We’ve known each other for two weeks. I wouldn’t expect you to have spent that time not having orgasms. That wouldn’t be fair. I’ve certainly rubbed myself to completion a few times a day since we met.”
I can’t take it anymore. “Daddy, stop it.” I groan.
He chuckles. “There she is. I’m not going to go away until you talk to me. I’ll just keep asking embarrassing questions because I want you to eventually be able to discuss everything with me, including your sexual needs.”
“Daddy,” I shout into the pillow. “Stop it. I don’t have sexual needs.” I whisper the last as if those words are dirty.
His hand stills on my hip. “Of course you do, kitten. Everyone does.”
I hold my breath again. I’m not having this discussion with him. Not now. Not ever.
He hesitates and clears his throat. “Please talk to me, kitten.”
I shake my head.
His hand smooths up and down my thigh now. “You’re shaking. I cut you off right before you could finish. I’m kicking myself.”
“Finish what?” I ask before I can stop myself.
His hand stills again. “Your orgasm. I assume you were on the edge. Brea?”
Neither of us speaks for several seconds.
“Brea? Baby, look at me.” He gently tugs on my hip.
I finally roll toward him, glancing at his face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I admit in a soft voice. “I’ve never done that before, and I’m humiliated and embarrassed and about a dozen other feelings. Would you please just leave me alone so the Earth can swallow me up?”
He smiles slightly and shakes his head. “Not a chance. You’ve never masturbated before?”
“Don’t even know what that is,” I admit. He’s not making fun of me. He’s truly shocked. But if anyone is going to fill in the gaps in my complete lack of knowledge, it’s going to be Niko—and obviously, he’s determined to do so.
He licks his lips. “Masturbating is when a person touches themself for sexual pleasure.”
“Oh.” My face heats, but I don’t turn away. Might as well face him.
“Have you never had an orgasm, Brea?” he asks gently.
I shake my head. “I don’t think so.”
He smiles. “You would know. Did you feel a pressure building inside you while you touched yourself? Like you needed some kind of elusive release?”
I nod slowly, trying not to turn away. He’s not going to let this go, and he’s not mad. He has information, and I need it.
“It felt good, didn’t it?”
I nod again, biting the inside of my cheek.
“An orgasm is what happens when all that pressure reaches a peak and you finally explode into millions of pieces. Most women need contact with their clitoris in order to reach orgasm. That’s the little nub above your pussy, uh, your vagina. The sensitive little bundle of nerves that comes to life when you touch it.”
He watches me, probably making sure I’m following. I’m sort of understanding. I’m partially aware of the bundle of nerves he’s referring to. I’ve never touched it intentionally, but I’ve bumped into it lots of times. I didn’t think about what it might be for.
“How much do you know about sex, Brea?”
I cringe. “I get the gist I think,” I mumble. I’m not about to explain what I know.
He reaches up and strokes my cheek with his thumb. “First of all, the fact that you’re so inexperienced is hot as fuck, so your embarrassment is misplaced. My dick is so hard right now, I’m going to orgasm in my jeans.”
I flush and look away.
“I’m just going to rattle off the basics. If you already know most of it, fine, but I don’t want there to be any chance of you misunderstanding, so just listen.”
I don’t move an inch. He’s going to talk anyway. I want to know what he’s going to say, but I don’t want to look at him while he speaks.
“Sex is a broad word, first of all. Any time two people are attracted to each other romantically and they start kissing and touching each other, all of that is sex. The term is often used to refer specifically to penetrative sex, which is when a man puts his erect penis inside a woman’s vagina.”
He draws in another breath and continues. “If he does so without using a condom or if the woman isn’t taking birth control pills, she could get pregnant. When a man orgasms, a white substance called semen, or come, squirts out of his erection. That can happen inside a woman or into his hand or hers, or any other place. The semen contains sperm. The sperm are what meet up with an egg inside a woman to create a baby.”
I purse my lips. Most of that I knew from collecting bits of information throughout my life. Certainly not from my parents bothering to tell me.
“Okay, those are the basics. When two people care about each other, they touch each other intimately in a million different ways because it feels good. The object is to reach orgasm, which they can do with or without penetration. One way is masturbating. You can bring yourself to orgasm by rubbing your clit with your fingers. I’m sure it also feels good to touch your breasts or push your fingers into your pussy. Every woman is different. Like I said, most need contact with their clit to come.”
That’s a lot of information. I’m embarrassed I didn’t know most of that second half. I’m also curious what would have happened if he hadn’t walked in on me. Would I have reached orgasm? I wasn’t touching my clit, but I was pressing against it.
Niko continues. “Some women are more sensitive than others. Some can come easily without much effort. Some need a lot more help. Some women need a vibrator to get enough pressure, or maybe even someone sucking on their clit.”
When he draws in a deep breath, I finally look at him. He’s flustered. I doubt men usually explain all of this to women. Their mom should do it, or if not, their friends would. I feel bad for putting him in this position. “Thank you.”
He smiles. “You’re welcome, kitten. When I said you could ask me anything, I meant it.” He lifts a brow. “Anything. If you have questions, please ask them. Any time. No matter what we’re doing. Even if we’re in the middle of kissing or making out.” He grins.
I know making out is when two people kiss and touch each other. I’ve seen it in the movies I’ve watched since I got here.
“Now. I want to kiss you because I want to erase all the icky feelings you’ve had since I walked in. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. I’m glad you were thinking about being pleasured. It makes me very happy.”
“Okay, Daddy,” I whisper because I want him to kiss me again. So badly that the ache turns into butterflies again. Or maybe it’s a combination now. I still feel the weird pressure, but I also feel the craving for his lips.
He pushes the stuffed animals back to the end of the bed, pulls the covers away, and climbs up next to me. He kicks off his shoes and props himself up on his elbow. His hand comes to my belly.
He looks at me, searching my face until I start squirming. His smile melts me. “You’re so fucking sexy, Brea. So damn cute and precious and special. I want the world for you. Stop me anytime you feel like I’m going too fast or pressuring you, okay?”
I nod. I can’t imagine stopping him. Why would I do that? Even if he wanted to have sex with me, I’d let him. At least then I’d know. And I really want to know.