Chapter 15: Daddy Devious: Chapter 14

Not once in my entire life have I had anything waxed. Even in high school, when my best friend at the time tried to convince me I needed my eyebrows waxed more than I needed my next breath. I tried, I really did, but I chickened out at the last minute.

Unfortunately for me, I don’t think that’s an option this time around.

“Yes, little one,” Daddy says, moving to the next leg. “Only big girls have hair on their kitties. Little girls, like you, don’t need all that hair. Luna is going to take care of it for us.”

“Daddy, no! Can’t we shave it? Please, Daddy, I don’t wanna get waxed!” As much as I hate shaving down there, anything would be preferable to the horrors of getting waxed.

“Waxing is much better for you,” Auntie Cat says, rising from her spot on the couch to stand beside the table. “And you don’t have to fuss with it as often as shaving. It won’t be nearly as bad as you think, little one. I promise.”

“I don’t believe you.” My voice is sulky and Little, but I can’t seem to help it. “I just wanna go home, please, Daddy? I’ll be a good girl forever and ever if you don’t make me get waxed.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” Daddy says with a laugh. “And this isn’t a punishment, little one. You’ll see.”

Luna returns with a cart, situating herself between my spread legs. Which makes her the third stranger today to get an up close and personal view of my naughty bits. “Such a pretty little pussy she has, Mr. Stone. It will look even better when it’s nice and clean.”

Whimpering, I let my head fall back, my eyes squeezed shut against yet another painful, humiliating experience. Daddy and Auntie Cat each take one of my hands in theirs, both of them telling me what a good, brave girl I am.

I don’t feel brave. And I sure as hell don’t feel good. I’m terrified, and I know damn well the only reason I’m here right now is because I did something truly awful and this is my punishment.

But their words are enough to distract me from Luna’s preparations, at least until the hot, sticky wax coats my outer lips.

“Here we go!”

With that, Luna rips the wax from my skin, taking the hair and what feels like a chunk of my flesh with it. My screams echo off the walls, and I shake my head as vigorously as I can manage. “No, no, no! Please no more! Daddy, it hurts!”

“It’s almost done, little one. Just a few more to go.”

Tears stream from my eyes, but there’s nothing I can do but lie there and take it. At least the second time is less of a shock, though it hurts just the same. And to my horror, Luna doesn’t stop when my naughty girl bits are completely bare. She pulls me further down the table, and the next bit of wax is applied to my exposed bottom hole.

Oh. So that’s why Daddy wouldn’t let Doctor D put anything in my butt.

After what feels like hours of torment, the ordeal is over, and Luna stands up, stripping her gloves from her hands and smiling down at me. “There we go. Such a pretty, bare pussy for a pretty Little girl. Mr. Stone, would you like to take a look?”

“Thank you, Luna.”

Releasing my hand, Daddy takes Luna’s spot between my thighs. “Very nice. Now, what about intercourse? I read there’s a waiting period?”

“At least twenty-four hours. You can use your hands to stimulate her clit if you’d like, but I would recommend avoiding actual intercourse and since you have a bit of stubble, oral stimulation as well. The beard and your pubic hair can cause irritation.”

“Well, we wouldn’t want that. But I do believe my little one has more than earned a bit of a treat after such a big morning. What do you think, Auntie Cat?”

“She certainly has, Maxwell.”

I don’t even have time to process what they mean by that before Daddy’s fingers are filling me, stroking the sensitive bundle of nerves inside me. Still clutching Auntie Cat’s hand, I arch up, whining as pleasure floods my system.

“That’s a good girl,” Auntie Cat murmurs as she strokes my hair. “Come for us, sweet girl.”

Pressing his thumb to my clit, Daddy continues to finger-fuck me, and while the pain from being waxed doesn’t fade entirely, soon it melds with the pleasure he’s forcing on me. Until the two are so intertwined, I can’t even tell one from the other.

The orgasm crashes over me, leaving me spent and shaking just like back at the doctor’s office. Over the roaring in my ears, I just make out Auntie Cat telling me what a good girl I am.

Daddy puts a new diaper on me, this time with something cold in it that feels oh-so-good on my freshly waxed pussy. And as he carries me from the spa, I let the exhaustion take over and fall asleep in his arms.

Maxwell

I don’t have the heart to wake Victoria after her ordeal at the spa, so I let her sleep the whole ride home. She looks like a perfect little angel, curled up in my arms, her cheeks still flushed and her thumb wedged firmly between her lips.

I wonder if she knows she sucks her thumb in her sleep.

When we reach the house, I carry her inside and place her in the playpen I had installed in my office while I work.

Or at least, while I try to work. My attention drifts constantly to the sweet little bundle sleeping next to my desk. But I do manage to put out a couple fires and check a few major items off my to-do list before she stirs.

“Shhh.” Bending down, I scoop her out of the playpen, letting her wrap herself around me the way she seems to prefer before carrying her over to the couch. “Daddy’s right here, little one. Did you enjoy your nap?”

“No.” Her voice is sulky, and she lets out a low whine when she shifts on my lap. “Hurts.”

“I know. You were so very brave for Daddy today, little one. I think you deserve a treat. How would you feel about some ice cream?”

“Ice cream?” That seems to perk her up and she sits up straight, a hint of a smile teasing at her lips. “What kinda ice cream?”

“Let’s go see what Chef has for us.”

Rising from the couch, I carry her to the kitchen. Dinner prep hasn’t yet begun, so the space is empty, save for the two of us. I open the freezer, making a show of scanning the contents as if I haven’t painstakingly stocked every inch of this kitchen with her favorite foods.

“Let’s see… we could go for the classics, and just have vanilla ice cream with hot fudge. Or there’s mint chocolate chip. And… is that butter pecan I spy?”

Victoria twists around to peek inside the freezer. “I want… one scoop of each!”

Although there’s a part of me that wants to indulge her, I don’t want her to get too used to being spoiled. It’s bad enough Catharina ignored every single attempt I made to curb her spending today. “One scoop of one flavor, Victoria.”

“But Daddy,” she whines, pouting up at me, clearly hoping it will have the same effect on me it had on her Auntie Cat.

And, god help me, it nearly does. “You can choose one flavor or you can go without.”

“Butter pecan,” she says with a sigh, looking so sad I can’t help but press a kiss to her adorable button nose.

“You don’t want to ruin your dinner, little one. Chef has something delicious up his sleeve again tonight.”

“Not more delicious than ice cream,” she grumbles as I place her in the highchair at the end of the island.

“You might have a point there. But Little girls need more than just ice cream to grow big and strong.”

“Why do I need to be big and strong when I have you?”

It’s a fair point, and one that makes my heart constrict in my chest. Perhaps all my planning won’t be for naught. “How about, because I’m the Daddy and Little girls who don’t listen to their Daddies go to bed with sore bottoms and no ice cream?”

“Oh. That’s a really good reason.”

“That’s what I thought.”

I make us each a small bowl, her of the butter pecan she requested, me of the mint chocolate chip. And it delights me to no end that she doesn’t fuss at all when I insist on feeding her every last bite of her treat.

“Daddy?” she asks, her voice soft and timid as I rinse our bowls in the sink.

“Yes, little one?”

“Did you know butter pecan and mint chocolate chip were my favorites?”

The lie would be easy. But really, I see no point in it. She’s here, with me, and no way to escape even if the truth upsets her. “Yes.”

“How?”

“I know everything about you, Victoria Rose.”

“But how?” Her voice has changed now, losing the high, little girl quality it had before.

I don’t like it.

“Because it’s my job to know everything about you.” With the bowls clean, I wet a washcloth to wipe her face.

But she jerks backward, away from my hand, her eyes narrowing. “I didn’t ask why. I asked how. The things you know… it’s almost like you’ve been having me followed. Or you bugged my apartment or something.”

Now I do hold back the truth, at least a bit. Because I did, indeed, do both of those things and I can already tell it’s only going to distress her to know it. “You’d be surprised how much you can learn from social media,” I say instead, dismissing the question with a shrug. “People don’t realize how much information they actually put out there. Like that time you went to Atlantic City with your friends and posted pictures of you all gorging yourselves on ice cream. Your hashtags were filled with phrases like ‘butter pecan for life’ and ‘long live butter pecan’.”

“Oh.” Brows drawing together, she seems to think it over and I swear I can see the wheels turning in her mind. “But… there’s other stuff I swear I never talked about online. Or at work. Like, the unicorns!” Her tone turns triumphant. “I’ve never said a word about unicorns online!”

“You posted that gif from that cartoon. The one with the little girl holding up the stuffed unicorn. And you said something like ‘This is so me!’. There are other examples, but trust me, little thief. You aren’t the enigma you think you are.”

“It’s just weird. You seem to know things nobody else knows about me.”

Gripping her chin gently, I tilt her head back, so she’s forced to look up at me. “Perhaps those people just didn’t bother to look closely enough. I did. And I see you, little thief. I see all of you, the good and the naughty. And I want all of you.”

That much, at least, is the truth.

Her eyes widen, her lips parting slightly as her breath catches in her throat. “Oh.”

“Mmhmm. Now, I think we have time for a movie before dinner, but only if you’re a good girl and stop fussing.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

Whether she believes me or not, my answers seem to mollify her for the time being and she stops pressing me about how I’ve come by the information I have on her. We watch a movie, as promised, and when she begs to be allowed a second while we eat dinner, I relent.

Perhaps I am spoiling her, at least a smidge. But if it means she will still be mine when her contract ends, I can convince myself it’s worth indulging her a bit.

For now.