Chapter Six

Natalie

This whole situation is so fucking surreal I’m still having trouble believing it isn’t all some crazy fever dream.

But the sensation of Evander Hawthorne’s finger in my ass is far too real for me to think it’s anything but reality.

How this has become my reality, I’m still not sure, but it definitely is.

And since in this new, bizarre reality talking back only earns me a painful punishment, I stay quiet as he thoroughly— very thoroughly—cleans my asshole.

When I’m finally cleaned to his standards, he lifts me from the tub and wraps me up in a fluffy purple towel the same shade as my bedroom walls and softer than a cloud.

“Oh.” Sighing softly, I press the fabric against my cheek. “It’s so soft .”

“Only the best for my Little girl,” he says as he scoops me up again and carries me into another room.

Damn. A girl could actually get used to this. Being carted around, doted on, showered with all the best the world has to offer? If it wasn’t for the spankings and the soap-covered cock in my mouth, I could definitely be down with this princess lifestyle.

But those things are a part of this reality, so eventually I’ll have to find a way off the island.

Not immediately, though. There’s still far too much for me to learn here, like where the other girls are being kept, who their “Daddies” are, things like that.

And I need a way to gather proof I can take with me, even if it’s just getting my hands on a phone for a few minutes to email myself some pictures.

Because if I go back to New York with some crazy story about an island full of rich men and their “Little girls” I’ll be laughed out of the newsroom.

Evander flips the light on and for a moment all thoughts of sneaky pictures and flashy headlines fades from my mind. “Holy shirt-balls, Batman,” I whisper, my mouth falling slightly open as I scan the offerings of the closet in front of me.

Dresses with layers of what I think are tulle and satin, in every color of the rainbow, line one wall. Beneath them, rows and rows of shoes in matching shades. It’s a Little girl’s dream.

I mean, it’s not really my dream. I’m much more at home in a pair of leggings and an oversized t-shirt. But I’m sure some Little girl somewhere would be absolutely ga-ga over the contents of this closet.

“Um, I hope you’re not planning to make me wear those dresses.”

“And why not? They’re very pretty.”

“Yeah. Too pretty. I don’t even wear anything that nice when I’m interviewing people on the carpet.” Twisting in his arms, I grin at him, my voice taking on a mocking tone. “I thought you knew everything there was to know about me, Daddy .”

“I do. Which is why those dresses will be reserved for special occasions.” Carrying me across the closet to a stack of drawers, he opens the third one down and plucks a t-shirt and what looks to be a skirt from inside. “I think you’ll be much more comfortable in these.”

“Lemme see.”

I reach for them, but he holds them up out of my reach. “I am starting to think I’m going to spend half my time teaching you manners, little one. How do you politely ask for something?”

“Please lemme see?”

It’s a somewhat sarcastic, bratty response, and I half expect him to spank me again. Instead, he just throws his head back and laughs. “Close enough. Here you go, kitten.”

He hands me the clothes as he sets me down on a tall table of some kind. Ignoring the fact that he’s once again stripping me naked as he pulls the towel from me, I hold up the t-shirt.

Only to realize it’s not actually a t-shirt. It’s a onesie, like babies wear, with the snaps between the crotch and everything. On the front is the phrase Daddy’s Kitten in a fancy font bedazzled with rhinestones.

“Cute. Still not really my style, but cute.”

“Compromise is a valuable skill, little one.” Pushing me onto my back, he pulls something across my stomach.

“You have your style, and I have mine. This will give you the freedom to move about and explore to your curious little heart’s content, while still reminding you of your place as my Little girl. ”

“I suppose that’s fair.” As fair as any of this can possibly be, anyway. And it is a pretty cute outfit, I suppose.

Lowering the onesie, I look down at the strip of leather he’s buckled across my stomach. “What’s that for?”

“To make sure you don’t accidentally roll off the changing table.”

“I’m twenty-three years old. I haven't fallen out of bed in… Okay, well, that’s not really the point. I’m not going to roll off the table.”

“Little girls often get fussy when they need to be changed. It’s better to be safe than sorry.”

Again, I can’t really argue with his logic, so I shrug. “I guess.”

Gripping both my ankles in one hand, he lifts my legs into the air and slides something soft and cottony under my ass.

When he looks down at me, his expression is full of curiosity.

“I must admit, you’re taking this much better than I expected.

From what I’ve heard, the others put up quite a fuss the first time they were put in a diaper. ”

“I mean, it’s just extra thick underwear. It’s not like you’re expecting me to use it or anything.”

Something flickers in his eyes, those impossibly dark depths highlighted by the jagged scar running down one side of his face, and my stomach twists into a knot.

“Wait. No. You can’t seriously expect me to go to the bathroom in this thing!”

“I do, yes. It will take some getting used to, I’m sure, but all the other Little ones on the island use their diapers regularly.”

“And if I refuse?”

“You’re a smart girl, Natalie. What do you think will happen if you refuse me?”

Duh. The same thing that’s already happened. “You’ll hurt me again.”

“I’ll spank you, yes. And if that doesn’t work, I’ve heard Doctor D has some rather creative methods for getting stubborn Little girls to use their diapers.”

God, the things I’ll do for a fucking story. “Fine. I’ll use it.”

Shaking his head, he lets out a deep sigh. “That isn’t how you speak to me, kitten. Say ‘Yes, Daddy’.”

Right, right. Daddy, Little girl. Two peas in a pod. “Yes, Daddy.”

It surprises me that the phrase doesn’t bother me as much as I might have expected. Sure, it’s weird, but it’s not like it means anything. If calling the mob boss Daddy keeps him happy, then I’ll call him Daddy.

As he said. I’m a smart girl.

Warmth infuses his dark eyes. “Good girl. Let’s finish getting you dressed. Your Auntie Cat should be here soon.”

Unstrapping me from the table, he helps me to the ground and pulls the onesie over my head. “Who's Auntie Cat?” It's the second time he’s mentioned her, so obviously she’s someone important.

“There are five of us here on the island, each of us in search of our Little one. Your Uncle Max, he’s the one who brought us all together, and his Little girl Victoria. Then there’s your Uncle Jasper and his Juliet, but you know all about them already.”

Even though there’s no censure in his tone, I can’t help but feel like I’m being scolded. “Look if they didn’t want me to know about them, then they shouldn’t have been so loud.”

His laughter is loud and deep as he pulls the twirly purple skirt up over my hips. “Very true, and you have my full permission to tell him that to his face.”

“Really?”

“Yes. There is nothing I love more than watching a spoiled rich boy get put in his place.” The corners of his lips dip down into a thoughtful frown. “I probably shouldn’t have told you that. You still need to respect your uncles, even if some of them are a bit laissez-faire for my tastes.”

“And here I was, looking forward to giving Jasper Blackwood hell.”

Still frowning, he taps a finger against my lips. “Language, kitten.”

Right. “Sorry, Daddy.”

“Good girl. And you can still give him hell, just… respectfully.”

“I think I can manage that.” Maybe.

By now I’m fully dressed, including a pair of socks that come all the way up my thighs, leaving just an inch or so of skin bare between the tops of them and the bottom of my skirt, and a pair of pure white sneakers I’m sure won’t be pure white by the end of the day.

Picking me up again and settling me on his hip, Evander heads for the door.

“Let’s see, who else? Ah, yes, your Uncle Gideon.

He’s a bit quieter than the others, but I’m sure his Little Isabella would be the first to tell you he’s no pushover.

And then there’s your Auntie Cat. She doesn’t have a Little one of her own yet, so she puts all her energy into spoiling her nieces. ”

“I’m down to be spoiled.”

Again he laughs, that deep, rich sound that makes my tummy flutter. “I’m sure you are, kitten. But your Auntie Cat does not put up with any nonsense. If you misbehave while you’re out with her she will not hesitate to put you over her knee and paddle your bare bottom with her hairbrush.”

Right. Because, as he said, the other “adults” on the island have the right to punish me in his place. “I’m not sure I like the idea of other people spanking me,” I mutter.

Hell, I don’t love the idea of him spanking me, but at least that’s only one humiliation to bear.

His smile says he understands my arguments, but he won’t be moved by them. “Then I suggest being a well-behaved Little girl and you won’t have to worry about it.”

Easier said than done .

At the bottom of the stairs, he makes a left-hand turn away from the front door. “You’re free to explore the house as you like, but you are not to step foot outside without me or another adult. Preferably your Papa or one of your uncles or Auntie Cat.”

“I can’t go outside?” I love being outdoors. As a kid, my best friend’s dad used to take us camping every summer and I’ve never quite shed that need for fresh air and freedom. Even when I’m buried in a book, I prefer to do my reading outside in the sunshine whenever I can.

“Not without supervision. But I think there will be plenty to keep you occupied here in the house.”

There’s a hint of wry amusement in his tone, and I’m about to ask what he means when he pulls open a set of large French doors. And in that instant, I forget all about what lies beyond these walls.

“Oh. My. God .”

It’s the largest library I’ve ever seen, at least in someone’s house.

From the floor to the two-story-high ceiling are rows upon rows of books.

Evander lowers me to the ground and I immediately rush over to the closest set of shelves, running my fingers lovingly over the old bindings. “Oh. Oh, it's lovely. I didn’t think…”

I trail off, shame heating my cheeks at my thoughts.

“You didn’t think a man like me would be so well read?” he asks, his tone dry.

Turning, I look up at him. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t very nice of me.”

“It’s all right, kitten. You wouldn’t be the first to make that assumption and I doubt you will be the last.”

But despite what he says with his words, his tone says differently. It’s not that he sounds upset. Just the opposite, really. He sounds… blank. Like he’s very deliberately keeping himself separate from me. Gone is the warmth we shared up in my nursery, and the loss of it chills me to my bones.

Guilt sits in my stomach like a rock. “I really am sorry,” I say quietly.

“I know better than anyone not to make snap judgments about people. In my line of work, I get to see who celebrities really are beneath all the glamour and it’s always surprising to people when I tell them that their favorite actor is really a creepy perv in real life. Please don’t be mad at me.”

He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes, not like before. “I’m not mad. You should pick out a couple of books to take back to your nursery with you. Bedtime is at nine, but if you want to stay up and read for a bit, I’ll allow it.”

“Okay.”

One dark eyebrow raises and my bottom clenches, as if anticipating a punishment. “How do you answer me, kitten?”

Kitten . Relief lightens the rock in my stomach. At least if he’s calling me by my pet name, he isn’t too angry. Right? “Yes, Daddy.”

“Good girl.” Tilting his head to the side, he goes very still, as if he’s listening for something. “Your Auntie Cat is here.”

“What? How do you know?”

A second later, I hear it. The telltale click of heels on the marble floor, and then she comes bursting through the library doors, her face alight with anticipation.

Holy shit. Auntie Cat is fucking Catharina Montgomery. Heiress to the Montgomery oil fortune. Any gossip columnist worth their salt knows it’s next to impossible to land an interview with her.

Pulitzer fucking prize, here I come.

“Evander! There you are. Lucas said you might be hiding back here.” Her gaze lands on me, dark eyes bright as she claps her hands together. “This must be naughty little Natalie. I heard you’ve been giving your uncles quite a run for their money already.”

“Have I?” I can’t help but grin back at her. “Can’t say I hate that.”

Head thrown back, Catharina lets out a long, loud laugh. “Oh, she is delightful , Evander. Just a head’s up, Jasper is on his way and he is not nearly as excited to meet our newest addition as I am.”

“If Jasper values his tongue, he’ll keep his opinions to himself.”

Catharina’s eyes sparkle at the threat. “This is going to be so much fun to watch.” Bending down, she places her hands on her knees.

She’s much taller than I remember from the few times I’ve caught glimpses of her at events, but maybe that’s because she’s wearing her customary stiletto heels and I’m in sneakers.

“Your Uncle Max tells me you came all this way on a ship. That was a very naughty thing to do, putting yourself in danger like that. But I like your spirit.”

“Well, apparently Evander got me on the ship and sent Lucas to babysit me so I don't think I was ever actually in any danger.”

Glancing up at the man behind me, Catharina arches an elegant brow. “You let her use your first name?”

“No.” Evander’s tone has taken on an edge that has my spine going ramrod straight. “She knows better. Who am I, Natalie Quinn?”

Whoops. “Oh. Uh. Daddy?”

“And who is Lucas?”

“Papa.”

“Good girl. If I have to remind you again, I’ll be reminding you over my knee. Understood?”

“Yes, Daddy. Sorry, I just forgot.” I didn’t forget. But referring to him as Daddy in the third person, to someone else just felt too weird.

Guess I’ll have to get over that, if I ever want to sit comfortably again.

Before Evander can say anything else, a loud, angry voice echoes through the hall. “Evander! Where the hell is she?”

“Uh-oh,” Catharina says in a sing-song voice as she scoops me up, surprising me with her strength as I wrap myself around her.

Despite Evander’s warnings about her, not to mention what I’ve heard of her through my job, she seems a far safer choice than the furious man about to descend upon us.

“I hope you like fireworks, little one. Because you’re about to get a show. ”