Page 24 of Tilly's Tutus
Her Little was pushing for freedom, but Tilly was hesitant to let go while they were still in public. Dancing and squealing with happiness at the convention center while surrounded by hundreds of other Littles was one thing, but here, in public with no one else around, she wondered if maybe she should have left her tutu in the truck and tried to look more adultish.
“Unless you have a whole bunch of toys in that bag of yours, you need something to play with at the hotel,” he answered softly as he led her to the aisle that offered toys and books and office supplies.
“Oh. I hadn’t thought about that.”
She walked the aisle and looked at all the toys, but nothing jumped out at her. Looking on the other side of the aisle, she found a large box of crayons.
“Ooo,” she squealed, picking the box up and hugging it to her chest. “Can I has these, Papa?”
She bounced on her toes, unable to hide her excitement at having a whole box of crayons all to herself. She hadn’t had crayons in years and the last box she’d had to share with her sisters. These would be just for her.
“If that’s what you want, little dancer. Do you want a coloring book to go with them?” he asked, pointing to a shelf where a half dozen coloring books for adults were displayed.
“No, Papa. Those are yucky.”
Tilly looked around and found two children’s coloring books, but neither of them was right. Further down the shelf, she found a stack of spiral-bound sketch books.
“Can I have one of these, please? Then I can draw my own pictures.”
“Is that all you want, little dancer? Don’t you want a doll baby or a game or something?”
Tilly wrinkled her nose as she shook her head. “No, fank you, Papa. I don’t see any stuffies I like. This is okay for tonight. And I have BB in my bag to snuggle with.”
“All right, but if you see anything else you want, let me know,” he said as he took her hand and led her toward the front of the store.
Once they’d paid and she slid her new sketchbook and crayons into her carry-all, he took her hand and they went next door and paid for their food. Tilly was skipping as they crossed the parking lot to his truck. She bounced in place as he unlocked the door.
“Hold these for a minute, Papa,” she said shoving her carryall at him. “I can’t get into the truck yet.”
Without another word, she turned and began to run.
“Matilda Ann, what are you doing?” Carter yelled behind her, using her faull name she’d shared with him that first night at dinner. “Get yourself back here this instant.”
But Tilly could not return yet. For some reason her body was filled with an excess of happy and she needed to get it out or she might explode.
“I’ll be there in a minute, Papa,” she called as she continued running to the end of the row. She normally was not one to run, but she wasn’t sure people would understand if she danced her way across the parking lot. At the end of the row she stopped and caught her breath. Then she turned back and skipped to where Carter remained standing by the open passenger door.
He did not look happy.
“Uh-oh,” she said as she stopped right in front of him.
“Uh-oh is right,” he said turning her and bending her forward over the leg he had bent with his foot on the truck’s step.
He flipped her tutu up over her back and began to whale on her ass. His hand was hard as one of the wooden paddles she’d seen for sale at the convention. His spanks were even harder than he’d given her the night before, and she’d thought those were hard enough. He quickly swatted her a dozen times, and she had to roll her lips over her teeth to keep from howling as the spanks lit a fire on her ass. The last thing she wanted was to draw attention to her being punished in the middle of the shopping center parking lot.
Finally, he stopped and flipped her tutu back into place before pulling her to rest against his chest as she cried.
“You do not run away from Papa like that. Ever. Did you even look around and see the two cars that almost hit you? You could have been badly hurt, little dancer.”
Tilly cried harder at the mental image of being hit by a car because she had done something stupid. “I’m sorry, Papa. I didn’t mean to be bad. I just had to get out some extra energy.I didn’t think I was close enough to any cars that anyone would back into me.”
“It’s all right, sweet baby. You’re safe now and the punishment is over. Let’s go to your hotel room so we can eat and relax and maybe you can draw a picture of Papa for my refrigerator.”
Her mood rose again as he shared his plan for the evening. “That sounds like a t-riffic idea, Papa. Let’s go.”
“We’ll have to get up super early tomorrow,” Carter said as he set his clock for an hour earlier than normal.
“Why, Papa?”
