Page 13 of Daddy Dreadful (Forbidden Pleasures Island #5)

Chapter Twelve

Millie

Being Doctor D’s Little girl is both exactly what I imagined it would be and nothing like what I imagined it would be.

He’s just as strict as I expected, and after two full days as his baby my bottom aches like a bad tooth. It seems as though every time I turn around, I’m either over his knee or in the corner or sucking on a pacifier coated with that godawful potion he made.

At the same time, he’s so much… softer than I ever would have thought.

Every now and then when I’m playing, I catch him watching me out of the corner of my eye.

And I’ve come to learn he loves reading me stories.

And he started calling me “sunshine” after I called him out for humming that song.

Even Cobie is starting to think that maybe Donovan isn’t all that bad, and that maybe they could be friends after all.

Traitor.

If he was literally any other man in the world, he would be my perfect Daddy.

But he’s not any other man. He’s Doctor D.

The man who has made me feel awful about myself, both as a person and a competent nurse, for nearly a year.

The man who has stripped my choices from me and forced me into humiliating, painful situations for his own gratification.

Trying to reconcile the two sides of him makes my head spin.

Which is the state he finds me in when he comes to wake me my third morning back on the island. “Awake already, my little sunshine?”

“Looks like it.”

Stopping beside the crib, he looks down at me, one silvery brow raising in that look I’ve come to associate with getting my bottom spanked and I have to force myself not to whimper. “Someone is feeling cranky this morning. What’s wrong, little one?”

I meet his gaze head on. “The same thing that's wrong every morning. I want to go home .”

“You are home, Camilla.”

There’s no point in arguing with him, so I stay silent as he lifts me up out of the crib and carries me to the changing table. “Have you used your diaper yet this morning?”

“No. And I’m not going to.”

Just like the “I want to go home” argument, the diaper discussion is the same one we’ve been having for two days now.

It is the one thing I still have some semblance of control over, so we do this dance every time.

He asks, I refuse. And like all those other times, he sighs and shakes his head before pulling a catheter kit from the cabinet beneath my changing table.

Staring up at the ceiling, I try to pretend I’m somewhere else. Anywhere else while he inserts the catheter and drains my bladder into the cotton pad of the diaper.

“You haven’t had a bowel movement yet.”

There’s a hint of something that almost sounds like worry in his tone, but I tell myself it’s more likely disappointment. Because I can handle him being disappointed in me. I’ve been handling that for months.

But actual worry? I’m not sure I could survive knowing he cares that much.

Gentle but firm fingers press on my abdomen and I wince at the flash of discomfort. The truth is, I really do need to go but my body is apparently in agreement that we are absolutely not messing in a diaper. Not for Doctor D, not for anybody.

So I continue to stare up at the ceiling silently as he continues his examination.

“Hmm. You are certainly a little constipated. Perhaps that’s why you’re feeling so cranky.

No matter. We’ll take care of that after your bath.

” Scooping me up in his arms, he carries me into the bathroom, where we begin yet another one of our rituals.

He sets me on my feet beside the tub and turns the water on, still far too cold for my liking, and we wait in silence for it to fill.

Maybe I am crankier than usual, because irritation pricks at the base of my skull as the tub fills with plain, clear water. “Can’t I have some bubbles or something?”

Looking up from his spot kneeling beside the tub, he frowns. “You know bubbles aren’t healthy for a Little girl’s vagina. They cause all kinds of infections.”

“Oh, come on. This isn’t the eighties anymore. There are all kinds of safe options now. Isn’t there a shop in town that sells stuff like that?”

His eyes narrow, and my heart stutters in response. I really don’t want a punishment first thing in the morning, especially with how sore I already am, but he’s being ridiculous.

“This is important to you?”

Something in his tone has the hairs on the back of my neck standing up as I shift from foot to foot in front of him. “I dunno. It would just be… nice, I guess. And fun. Don’t Little girls need fun?”

To my surprise, he smiles. Not just that small, cruel smirk I’m used to, but a full-blown grin. “That’s very true. They do. All right, I’ll visit the store in town and see about getting some bubbles for my Little girl.”

Emboldened by his shockingly quick capitulation, I press forward. “While we’re talking about my bath…”

“Taking a bath is non-negotiable, Camilla.”

I roll my eyes toward the ceiling, then yelp at the sting of pain in my thigh when he slaps me.

Embarrassment heats my cheeks, because no matter how many times he punishes me, those solitary swats always make me feel the most like a misbehaving child.

“That’s not what I was gonna ask,” I grumble, well aware I am pouting and acting like a sulky Little girl.

Probably because I am feeling like a sulky Little girl after that swat. I can feel myself sliding deeper and deeper into my Little space, completely against my will.

“What did you want to ask me, sunshine?”

The use of my new nickname both rattles and comforts me. “Can we please turn the hot water up? Please ? It’s way too cold.”

Frowning again, he dips a hand into the water and shakes his head. “It’s a perfectly comfortable temperature. Any hotter and you might get burned.”

“Oh my god, Donovan, you’re being an insane person. It’s freezing!”

Again he looks up at me, but this time there’s a hint of calculation in those dark eyes. “I suppose I could warm it up a bit.”

Triumph wells in my chest. But only for a moment before he completely deflates me with one single sentence.

“But only if you ask me properly .”

“What do you mean?”

It’s a stalling tactic. I know exactly what he wants of me. The one thing other than using my diaper I’ve refused to give him, no matter how many different ways he’s punished me for it.

“Say ‘Will you please turn the hot water up, Daddy?’”

I don’t want to. God knows I’d pretty much rather do anything than call the man who’s been my main source of torment the past year by such an intimate name.

Anything… except take another cold fucking bath.

It doesn’t have to mean anything. It’s just a word.

Except, it’s not just a word. And it does mean something to me. I’ve never called anyone Daddy before, and I always thought when I finally did, it would be for keeps. Or at the very least it would be my choice.

On the other hand, I really, really don’t want to get in that water. Maybe I’m just weak, but the thought of yet another too-cool bath has tears pooling in my eyes.

Swallowing hard against the tightness in my throat, I force the words out. “Will you please turn the hot water up… D…D…Daddy?”

I don’t know what response I expected, but it certainly wasn’t for his entire face to light up like a child’s on Christmas Day. And I definitely wasn’t prepared for the way my heart would trip in my chest at his excitement.

“Anything for my sunshine.”

My sunshine . Despite my best efforts, the walls around my heart crumble a little more at those words.

I spend the rest of my bathtime trying to figure out exactly what his reaction means. Is he really that happy to have me calling him Daddy? Or was he just excited to finally break me?

The questions are still bouncing around in my brain when he lifts me out of the tub and carries me back to my changing table. I’m so distracted by my internal debate, I don’t notice him putting a fresh pair of gloves on until he grasps my ankles and lifts them straight in the air.

“What are you doing?” The words come out sharper than I’d intended, earning me a frown.

“As I noted earlier, you haven’t had a bowel movement the entire time you’ve been with me. I’m giving you a suppository to help things along. If this doesn’t work, then you’ll need an enema.”

“No!” As always, I’m strapped to the table, so I can barely move around, but I fight against his hold as best I can despite the restraints. “You can’t do that!”

“I’m your Daddy, Camilla. I can, and will, do whatever it takes to keep you healthy.”

“No! Let me go, you big bully!”

But all my fighting and screaming is for nothing because all too soon something presses against my bottom hole. A sob rises in my throat, but I force it back, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry over a stupid suppository.

The pill pushes past that initial resistance at my entrance, sliding deep inside me.

To my horror, Donovan doesn't remove his finger from my bottom, rather choosing to keep it there while the suppository melts. I don’t want to enjoy this full feeling, and I definitely don’t want to enjoy knowing he has such access to all my most intimate parts.

And yet, there is an undeniable pull low in my belly that tells me my body has yet again betrayed me.

“There we go.” His voice drops to a low, soothing tone as he smiles down at me. “All that fuss for nothing. Don’t we feel a little silly now?”

“No, we do not. We feel like you’re a?—”

“Careful, little one.” Gone is the sweet, almost cooing tone from a moment ago. Steel enters his voice and his expression turns hard. “You don’t want Daddy to have to punish you before we leave, do you?”

I don’t, but it might be worth it just to be able to call him an asshole to his face.

It’s the rest of his warning that distracts me, however. “Leave? Where are we going?”

“School. Mr. Stone was able to get you a place at the preschool the other Littles attend. Wasn’t that nice of him?”

“The other Littles? Like Victoria and Juliet and the others?”

“Yes.”

Anxiety wraps around my stomach, twisting it into knots. “Don’t wanna go.”

“What’s wrong, sunshine? Don’t you want to see your friends?”

It’s the concern in his voice as much as the question itself that has my eyes filling with tears. “They're not my friends. I don’t even know if they like me.”

With the exception of Natalie, the newest resident of the island, the other Littles have always seemed… distant with me. I don’t think they hate me, but I don’t really think they want to be my friends, either.

Doctor D frowns, but when he speaks, he sounds unconcerned.

“Maybe you aren’t close now, but I have no doubt by the end of the school day you’ll all be the best of friends.

” Pulling his finger from my bottom, he disposes of his gloves and wraps me up in a fresh diaper.

“Time to get you dressed for school, little one.”