Page 25 of Sadie's Little Christmas

Hesitantly, she moved in closer to the wall and started to draw a face—round circle, two eyes, a cute petite nose with just a smattering of freckles, and… stopped when she got to the mouth.

She wasn’t an artist and never had been. Even as a kid, when she’d had to draw things for school, she’d sucked at it. Stick figures were the worst because everyone expected them to be smiling, happy people reflections. She’d never drawn hers smiling or happy. If they were supposed to be a reflection of her, shouldn’t she draw them the way she felt?

What kind of mouth did one put on a lonely stick figure? What kind of mouth did unwanted ones have when they were worth so little that one tiny accident would lead their roommate to prefer murder over attempted resuscitation?

She got halfway through a straight-line mouth before she erased the whole thing with her wet washcloth. She hated stick figures, anyway.

Setting up a board for hangman instead, she played it, but it wasn’t a lot of fun against only herself. Erasing it, she set up another one.

“Derek,” she called out. When he didn’t answer through the cracked bathroom door, she sloshed around in the tub and called out again, louder, “Derek!”

He still didn’t answer.

Getting out of the water, she wrapped herself in the soft blue towel he’d provided and padded in wet feet across the tiles to see if she was really as alone as it suddenly seemed. But no, he was, in fact, sitting in a chair he’d moved directly outside the door. It surprised her to peek out and see him there, reading on his phone.

She said, “I-I called you.”

He didn’t look up from his phone. “I don’t answer to Derek today.” Now he did look at her… pointedly.

“Oh.” She blushed.

Closing the door back to the same depth of a crack as he’d left it, she made her way back to the tub. Shedding her towel,she climbed into the lukewarm water and picked up her water crayon again.

“Daddy?” she hesitantly called out, feeling a little silly.

“Yeah, baby,” was his prompt response.

“Let’s play a game.”

Considering what he’d just insisted she call him, she felt silly saying that, but he didn’t laugh at her. He didn’t even sound as if he were rolling his eyes when he replied.

“What would you like to play?”

She relaxed a little. “Hangman. I already have a word picked out. It’s five-letters long, and you have to guess what it is.”

Now he did chuckle. “Okay. A,” he guessed, and they played.

He was good at it. She didn’t get to hang him once out of the three back-to-back games they played. The water was starting to cool, her fingers and toes were pruning, and the bubbles were almost gone, but she was reluctant to get out. That would put them with nothing else to do but go to bed.

She squirmed, the lingering tenderness in her bottom against the unyielding surface of the tub reminding her how it felt when he used his body against her, pinning her down, punishing her. Her belly fluttered, a new blush of arousal unfurling between her tensing legs.

“Daddy?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“How long do I get to have a bath?”

“How long do youwantto have a bath?” he countered.

Gathering what few thin handfuls of floating bubbles were left, she dragged them across the water’s surface to cover her sex and changed the subject.

“You have a very nice bathroom.”

He chuckled. “Thank you. Are you saying you’re ready to get out now?”

That depended on what he was going to do upon her getting out. Did Little girls get spankings before bedtime or slow, burning kisses? Did they get pinned between the sheets while Daddy’s mouth went to work on her needy clit and puss, or were they put on their knees and ‘forced’ to worship Daddy’s cock until they wept as they choked on the length driving in and out between their lips?

Her breasts grew heavy, and her nipples stiffened into tight points. She hugged her knees to her chest, hiding them behind her own thighs.

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