Page 6 of Daddy Dreadful (Forbidden Pleasures Island #5)

Chapter Five

Millie

Even knowing how much trouble I’m in, need flares between my thighs at Donovan’s words. Which isn’t an entirely new feeling, but it’s one I haven’t dealt with in months. Over time, his cruelty snuffed out anything I could have felt for him that even resembled desire.

Or so I thought.

Because I am just a Little girl. That’s all I’ve ever wanted to be. And even though this isn’t at all how I imagined it happening, those dark, depraved parts of my psyche are reveling in his demands. In his dominance.

With my eyes still locked on his, I slowly raise my arms so he can pull my pretty blue dress up over my head, baring me almost completely to his gaze.

I’ve been partially naked in front of him before. Not only when he helped me get dressed on the plane, but for my monthly checkups in his office. But that was different. Clinical. Sterile.

This, this moment between us, is anything but.

“Turn around.”

Biting back a whimper, I turn my back to him so he can unsnap my bra. It falls away, and my breasts hang heavy, swollen and aching, desperate for his touch.

Except I’m not supposed to want his touch. Not supposed to want anything from him. He is the last man I should want.

And yet, right now, he’s the only man I crave.

Cupping my elbow in his hand, he guides me over to an empty corner, his voice a low growl in my ear.

“You are going to stand right here like the naughty Little girl you are and think about why you’re about to go over my knee for a very long, painful spanking and what you could have done to avoid that.

I am very disappointed in your behavior tonight, Camilla. ”

Disappointed . No single word in the English language has the power to strip me of every last ounce of defiance. Tears fill my eyes and my shoulders slump forward as the weight of that word settles in my chest. “I’m sorry, Sir.”

“I know. And by the time I’m through with you, you’ll be even sorrier yet. Do not move from this corner until I say otherwise.”

Sniffling back the tears burning in my eyes, I nod my understanding.

Behind me, I hear him moving around, doing god knows what to prepare for the punishment I've earned while I stand there in the corner wearing nothing but a diaper, which somehow makes this whole thing even more embarrassing.

I am a Very Little Girl, and I am being treated as such.

And now that the fog of fury has mostly faded, I can accept that I have actually earned every second of this humiliating punishment.

Whether I agreed with his “no drinking” rule or not, it was the rule.

Not only did I very openly and brazenly ignore that rule, I cussed him out to his face when he called me on it.

I’ll be lucky if I can sit comfortably for the rest of the conference.

An eternity later, he calls for me. “Come here, Camilla.”

Heart pounding, I force myself to turn away from the corner.

And nearly turn right back around.

Seated on the edge of the bed we’re meant to share tonight, with his tie missing and the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up to his elbows, he looks… dangerous. Far more intimidating than he ever looked in his perfect suit and white coat back on the island.

Lifting a hand, he crooks a finger, beckoning me to him. And I’m suddenly, painfully aware of the fact that I’m wearing nothing but a diaper.

If I’ve ever felt this Little before in my life, I can’t remember when.

For a moment, all I can do is stare at him from across the room. When I don’t immediately move toward him, he raises that single eyebrow the way he’s done so many times before. “Camilla. If I have to come get you, I will start adding swats.”

I don’t know what he has planned for me, but I am very, very sure I don’t want to make it any worse than necessary.

So I force my feet forward in small, shuffling steps until I’m standing right in front of him.

Even though he’s seated and I’m standing, I’m not that much taller than him.

That knowledge makes me feel even smaller, even more Little than before.

“Why are you being punished right now, Camilla?” he asks, his voice surprisingly soft, almost… tender.

My mouth is dry, too dry to form words, and I have to swallow a few times before I can speak. “Be-because I broke the rule about not drinking alcohol. Sir.”

“That’s one reason. What’s the other?”

Embarrassment at my behavior heats my face. “I cussed at you,” I whisper. “I’m really sorry. That was uncalled for.”

“Thank you for the apology, little one. I should have taken care of this the very first time you swore at me, but I had hoped it was only a momentary lapse and you would remember your place. But since you have continued to use such Big girl words, you leave me no choice but to punish you.”

“What if I promise to never ever use Big girl words again?”

“I’ve already given you more than enough chances to correct your behavior on your own, Camilla. You have more than earned the punishment you’re about to get.”

“Yes…” The word “Daddy” trembles on my lips. But not only is the man staring so sternly up at me the last man on Earth I should want for my Daddy, he’s also my boss. Talk about inappropriate. “Sir.”

Something about the way he looks at me makes me wonder if he knows why I hesitated. But that’s far too humiliating to even consider, so I push those thoughts right out of my head.

Reaching behind him, Donovan reveals a pacifier gag and a small glass bottle that has my stomach sinking to my knees. I suppose it was too much to hope he’d left that stupid concoction behind.

It’s a formula of his own design, one I have very reluctantly helped him test and tweak over the past few months. The bitterness is beyond anything I’ve ever tasted and I would willingly have my mouth washed out with soap every day for a week rather than put that stuff on my tongue.

And because I’ve been his test subject, Donovan knows exactly how I feel about his “potion”. Which, if I had to guess, is why he brought it with him on this trip.

One corner of his mouth kicks up in a smirk, confirming my thoughts as he twists the cap off the bottle and brushes a thick layer of the gross concoction over the rubber tip of the pacifier. Before he even brings it to my mouth, tears pool on my lashes.

“Wait!”

His eyes narrow, but he stops with the pacifier just a few inches from my lips. “What is it, Camilla?”

“Cobie. I-I need Cobie. Please? He’s my bestest friend in the whole wide world and I’ve had him since college and I can’t do this without him. I know it’s silly, but I just… I need him. Please, Sir?”

For a moment, I’m certain he’s going to deny me. But then he sighs and lowers his hand. “He’s really that important to you?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“All right. You may go get your stuffie.”

Relief floods my body as I hurry around him to where Cobie waits for me at the head of the bed. With my oldest and closest friend clutched to my chest, I hurry back to Doctor D. It’s tempting to drag my feet, but the last thing I want to do right now is make him any angrier.

“Please, Sir, I won’t ever say a naughty word ever again,” I whisper when I return to my spot in front of him, too deep in my Little space to even be ashamed of it.

My strict boss, however, is not moved. His expression is stony as ever as he brings the tip of the pacifier to my lips. “Open, Camilla. If I have to ask you a second time, I will plug your mouth and your bottom for your punishment.”

In all the months I’ve been subjected to his discipline, he’s never even threatened to plug me. And now he’s done so twice in less than twelve hours.

What does it mean? What’s changed between us to have him making such an… intimate threat? Or am I reading too much into the situation?

“One, Camilla.” His firm tone yanks me out of my mental spiral. “Don’t let me get to three.”

That threat is enough to have my mouth popping open so he can slide the pacifier between my lips. And no amount of maneuvering my tongue is able to keep the bitter taste of his potion from filling my mouth and making me gag.

Before, when I’ve tested his solution, I only had to put a tiny bit on my tongue for a couple seconds and then I was allowed to rinse.

Now, however, the taste is everywhere, coating my tongue, and with the pacifier buckled around my head there is no escape.

Tears slip down my cheeks as I silently plead with him to take it off, to show me an ounce of mercy.

But mercy is a word Doctor Donovan Graves does not know.

Taking my hand, he guides me over his knee, once again trapping my legs with his just like he did back on the plane. He cups my still-diapered bottom, giving the cotton a hard squeeze.

“To help you remember that you are, in fact, a very Little girl, I’m going to leave your diaper on during your spanking.”

Oh, well that’s an unexpected relief. The thick cotton is more than enough protection against his hand or whatever implement he chooses.

But it doesn’t take long for me to realize my assessment of the situation is very, very off. Because a moment later there's a sharp tug as he pulls my diaper up between my cheeks, exposing only the most sensitive parts of my bottom to him.

“You may have a Big girl job to do while you are here, but you are not a Big girl, Camilla. You are a very Little girl and you will follow the rules you are given. Am I understood?”

Whimpering around the pacifier, I nod, my carefully curled hair flying with the movement. I hold Cobie even tighter as I brace for the punishment to come.

“You’re a good girl, Camilla. Sometimes you just need to be reminded of that. And that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

His hand connects with the bottom curve of my backside, and I cry out at the stinging pain, the sound muffled by the pacifier in my mouth. Hard, fast swats fall against my bottom, my sit-spots, even the tops of my thighs. All the places I know I’ll feel it the most every time I sit down tomorrow.

Instinctively, I suck on the pacifier for comfort, but every time I do, that bitter, acrid taste fills my mouth again. No matter what I do, there is no escape from my misery, or the horrible punishment being inflicted on me.

Finally, when my entire bottom is on fire and I’m a sobbing, snotty mess, he stops, his hand resting heavy on my scorched flesh.

“Are you going to be a good girl for me, Camilla?”

Again I bob my head up and down in confirmation, desperate for him to believe me.

“Let’s make extra sure you remember to behave the rest of our trip.”

Pain explodes in a thick line across the tops of my thighs and a sob wells up in my chest as my feet flutter uselessly against the carpet.

Again and again his belt whips across my exposed flesh as I collapse over his knee, sobbing around my pacifier. Tears and drool mingle on my cheeks, my chin, but I’m too wrapped up in misery to care about the mess he’s making of me.

By the time he finishes, and helps me curl up in his lap, I am very sorry indeed that I ignored his rules. And I vow then and there to be the best-behaved assistant he’s ever had.

Three more days. I only have to survive three more days and then I can forget all about strict, demanding Doctor D.