Page 11 of Pretty in Pink

“Nah, we’ll get them later,” I shrugged, making my boy giggle. The blocks were technically the reason all of this started. Though all Ireallycared about was meeting his need for punishment, which seemed to be more of a reward. And now, I planned on meeting his need for food.

I pinched his bottom as he walked out of the room in front of me, making him hiss through his teeth.Oops. One need was even more pressing than food, and I made a mental list of everything my boy required.Clean up, soothing lotion, lunch. Got it.

Chapter Three

Keegan

“There you go; how does that feel?” Daddy asked as he pulled the hemline of one of his t-shirts down over my body. My underwear and skirt were wet and sticky from our fun, and he said he didn’t want it to irritate my skin, so he put them in the washing machine.

Once he stripped me, he cleaned my stomach with a wet, soapy cloth, and then smoothed some cool lotion onto my bottom. He was gentle and thorough, and the sting was completely gone, which was sort of a shame because I wanted to remember him every time I sat down. And I wouldn’t have minded feeling his hand on my cheeks all day.

Once I was clean and lotioned, I thought about asking to be free and nakey the rest of the day, but then he offered me one of his t-shirts to wear, and that sounded like an even better idea. I wanted to be covered in something that belonged to him.

He also offered me a pair of his underwear, but they were much too big. I stepped into them and he pulled the waistband onto my hips, but they immediately fell onto the floor. So we settled on just the shirt. It was fine by me; I liked the breeze, and the thin cotton against my skin.

“It feels good.” It was loose and flowy, and hung down to my knees. “It’s kind of like a pretty dress,” I answered, giving a little twirl as he chuckled.

“You are what makes it pretty. I’m convinced you could make a trash bag look beautiful.” I giggled at the silly idea. “Come on, I need to feed my boy some lunch.”

I followed him into the kitchen, where he pulled out a wooden chair, but before I could sit down, Daddy said he would be right back and hurried out of the room. He returned carrying a throw pillow from the sofa, which he placed onto the hard seat, before patting it in invitation. He thought of everything; even the tiny comfortable touches that made his care evident, warming my insides.

I settled my bare butt in at the table and watched him get to work. He moved gracefully across the room, grabbing a pan from the cabinet and ingredients from the fridge. It was obviously something he did often; he knew right where everything was, and looked like he had a recipe in mind.

“Do you like to cook?” I asked curiously as he fired up the burner on the stovetop. He appeared to be good at it, but I wanted to know if he enjoyed it.

“I do,” he replied with a smile. “I’ve always enjoyed cooking; especially when it’s for people I care about.” Daddy winked at me and my stomach warmed. I knew he cared about me; I could feel it in his touch and see it in his actions, but it was nice to hear it. “I’m just making something quick for now, because I want to get your belly full. I can make you something fancier for dinner.”

In no time at all, he scooped a sandwich off of the pan and onto a plate, which he placed in front of me. It was grilled cheese, which Iloved, but it looked even better than what I was used to. It was thick, browned perfectly, and had gooey cheese spilling over the sides. But there was something else inside it too.

I reached for the top piece of bread to peel it back for a peek, but Daddy stopped me by gently grabbing my hand. “Careful, baby; it’s hot. I don’t want you to burn your precious little fingers.” He kissed my fingertips and made my stomach feel swoopy.

“I’m sorry. I just wanted to see what all was inside.”

He grabbed a butter knife from the drawer and cut my sandwich into two triangles. “That will help it cool faster, and let you see the goodies inside. There’s two layers of cheddar cheese, barbecue sauce, and barbecue potato chips. It’s my specialty sandwich.”

Just hearing the ingredients made my mouth water. “This looksveryfancy to me.” Daddy laughed even though I was being serious. “I only know how to cook eggs.”

“I happen to love eggs,” he told me with a smile as he sat down next to me with a plate of his own. “But if you’d like, and if you promise to be very careful around the oven, I will teach you how to cook lots of things.”

“That sounds like fun.” It also sounded like I’d be spending lots more time with him, which was the best part of all.

Once Daddy told me my sandwich was cool enough, I took a big bite and hummed as its savory flavors burst across my tastebuds. “Mm, this issogood!” I knew it was rude to talk with my mouth full, but I had to tell him how delicious it was.

His eyes sparkled right along with his smile. “I’m so glad you like it.” He didn’t look like he thought I was rude at all.

When I lifted my sandwich to take another big bite, I noticed the small blue floral pattern on my plate. A million memories rushed into my brain and warmed my heart. “My grandma had plates just like this. She raised me,” I added, realizing I hadn’t told him that yet. “She and my grandpa. She loved cooking too, and made almost all of our meals. We’d sit around her big oak table and eat on her blue flowery plates.”

Daddy’s warm hand traced circles onto my back. “That sounds really nice. I bet she was a great cook; grandmas always are.”

I nodded as I took another bite. “I wish I would have asked her to teach me. I guess I didn’t think about it because she enjoyed preparing the meals so much. She loved spoiling Grandpa and me.”

“Grandmas are good at that, too,” Daddy chuckled.

“She was good at lots of things; cooking, baking, singing, and she could sew anything. She made really pretty quilts. I thought they were pretty enough to wear. Sometimes, when she was busy, I would wrap the quilts around my waist and pretend they were ball gowns. One day, she caught me.”

Daddy’s hand stopped circling against me, and his eyes filled with concern. “I thought she would be mad at me, and she was, a little, but not for the reason I was afraid of; she was just irritated that I was dragging her nice quilt across the floor. She said if I wanted her to make me an actual dress to play in, all I had to do was ask.” He smiled brightly again and went back to drawing circles.

“So I asked nicely, and she made me a pretty purple dress. I loved it from the moment I put it on; how it felt, how it crinkled, and especially how it puffed out when I twirled. She was happy that I was happy, but Grandpa was less than thrilled when he found out. He asked her if she was trying to turn me into a sissy. She said no, but that she’d turn him into a starving man by refusing to cook if he kept running his mouth.”

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