Page 12 of What Bad Girls Deserve
The shame that washed over me was overwhelming—not because of what he was saying, but because of how my body was responding to it. I was mortified to realize I was more aroused than I’d ever been in my life. The idea that I had a strict daddy who made rules for me, who controlled my body, who was deliberately unfair because he wanted to degrade me, was sending electric pulses of pleasure straight to my core.
“Please,” I gasped, no longer able to resist the building pressure. My hips moved of their own accord, seeking more contact with his hand.
“Please what?” he asked, slowing his movements to a torturous pace.
“Please, Daddy,” I begged, past caring about dignity now. “Please fuck me.”
His eyes darkened with satisfaction and his lips curved into a smile that made my tummy flip. “No, Little Lulu. Not yet. There’s a very important rule you need to learn.”
He moved his huge hands to the backs of my knees. I whimpered as he pushed them even further back and even further apart, spreading me and exposing me completely to his eyes. My bound hands rose instinctively from the covers behind my head and moved to cover myself, but Jax growled, “Don’t you dare cover yourself, bad girl. Daddy gets to see whatever he wants. What Daddy sees now is a very fuckable pussy, but it’s not going toget fucked tonight, because bad girls only get fucked with a sore bottom and I’m too tired to punish you properly tonight.”
The rule. The very important rule. I couldn’t suppress a helpless sob of need as I absorbed it.
Bad girls only get fucked with a sore bottom.
“Don’t worry,” he continued, his smile widening. “I’m going to spank you and fuck you first thing in the morning, once I’ve shaved this pussy bare.”
A shiver ran through me that I couldn’t suppress—part fear, part shameful anticipation. The way he said it—so matter-of-fact, as if my consent wasn’t even a consideration—made my heart pound against my ribs.
“Until then,” he said, reaching for a fresh diaper, “this will keep my little girl dry through the night.”
I watched in silent humiliation as he expertly positioned the thick padding beneath me, sprinkled more of that infantilizing powder between my legs, and Velcroed the diaper snugly around my hips. The feel of the thick fabric as he smoothed it into place made my cheeks burn.
“Arms up,” he instructed, moving to a dresser across the room.
I obeyed without thinking, raising my bound wrists above my head. Jax returned with a pink nightgown made of some soft, silky material. With surprising gentleness, he first unclipped my wrists, then guided the nightgown over my head and helped my arms through the sleeves. The garment fell just to my thighs, too short to hide the bulky diaper underneath.
“Beautiful,” he murmured, stepping back to admire his handiwork. His eyes traveled slowly from my face down to mydiapered bottom, and the approval in his gaze made something flutter in my stomach.
He reattached my wrists to each other, and then to the bedpost, checking that the restraints were secure, but not painfully tight. Then, without warning, he began to undress.
I looked away quickly, but not before catching a glimpse of his broad chest as he unbuttoned his shirt. The rustle of clothing being removed filled the silence between us. I kept my eyes fixed on the ceiling, trying to ignore the sounds of him preparing for bed.
The mattress dipped as he slid under the covers beside me. I tensed, expecting… I wasn’t sure what. Some kind of sexual assault, despite his promise to wait until morning. Instead, his strong arms encircled me from behind, pulling me against his chest in a position that reminded me of how a father might hold a child.
“Relax,” he whispered, his breath warm against my ear. “It’s time for sleep now.”
I lay rigid in his embrace, acutely aware of his naked body pressed against my back. His chest was solid muscle, radiating heat that seeped through my thin nightgown. One of his arms cradled my head while the other wrapped possessively around my waist, his hand resting on the front of my diaper.
The disparity in our sizes had never been more apparent. Compared to his powerful frame, I felt tiny, fragile… completely dominated. My wrists secured above my head, my body encased in symbols of infantilization, held firmly in place by this man who now claimed to own me—I had never felt so utterly controlled in my life.
I could never go to sleep like this, could I? I told myself that of course I couldn’t; the thought seemed ridiculous. Then, suddenly, I woke up and saw the light shining through the enormous windows of my new daddy’s bedroom.
CHAPTER 5
Louisa
“Good morning, Little Lulu,” I heard Jax say from the doorway. My stomach lurched at the sight of him in his boxers and nothing else, his coffee mug in hand. He was impossibly fit, with six-pack abs that rippled as he moved toward the bed. The morning light streaming through the windows highlighted every perfect muscle, making him look like some ancient god who’d stepped out of a marble sculpture.
He made me suck his cock. He wants me to call himDaddy. He put a collar on me, with his name on it. He’s fucking insane.
I could see in his eyes that he wanted me to say, “Good morning, Daddy,” and for a moment I almost did. I remembered that he had promised to shave me and spank me and fuck me, and I felt a helpless thrill of arousal surge through my body. The memories of his fingers inside me, of the way he’d made me beg, flooded back with humiliating clarity.
That involuntary reaction made me seethe with anger at myself. What was wrong with me? I shouldn’t be feeling anything butdisgust and hatred for this man who’d bought me like property and put me in a diaper.
“You’d better have some of that fucking coffee for me,” I said, my voice coming out harsher than I’d intended, a desperate attempt to reclaim some control.
My tummy flipped as I watched Jax’s eyes narrow, though to my dismay his lips curved into a smile. It wasn’t the reaction I’d hoped for. I wanted him angry, not amused.
