Page 9 of Daddy Dreadful (Forbidden Pleasures Island #5)

Chapter Eight

Millie

Oh, god. How much did I have to drink last night?

Rolling away from the light filtering in through the hotel window, I groan as I pull the blanket over my head. It helps somewhat, though there’s still a pounding behind my eyes that tells me I’m going to be paying for my over-indulgence all morning.

I try to will myself back to sleep, but the longer I lie there, the more persistent the pressure in my bladder becomes. Until it finally becomes too insistent to ignore and I force myself to roll out of bed.

Except… I can’t. Something stops me. Forcing one eye open, I look around the hotel room, my vision blurry at first. And as the scene around me slowly comes into focus, panic wraps an invisible vice around my chest.

I’m not in my hotel room. I’m in a fucking nursery.

Grabbing hold of the bars of the crib, I pull myself up onto my knees, my heart pounding as I take in my surroundings.

Walls painted a beautiful, calm shade of blue are decorated with paintings of birds wearing clothes.

Not just any birds in clothes. Prints I’ve had saved in my online shopping cart for months, debating on whether or not I wanted to actually waste money on something so frivolous.

In the far corner there’s an oversized glider, large enough for two grown adults. Opposite the chair stands a dollhouse and a rocking horse, again more than large enough for me to play with.

“What the fuck is going on?”

No sooner have the words left my mouth than the door to the nursery swings open. And the last man in the world I want to see steps inside.

Doctor D’s mouth is curved up in that cruel smile I’m so familiar with. “Naughty, naughty, little Camilla. You know Little girls aren’t allowed to use such foul language. Especially my Little girl.”

“I’m not your Little girl.”

But even as I speak the words, the truth settles heavy in my stomach. The only reason I would be in a nursery, especially one so tailor-made for my own tastes, would be if someone built it for me. And if Doctor D is here, then it only stands to reason he’s the one who built it.

Which means I haven’t escaped the island after all.

Fuck.

My suspicions are confirmed by the widening of his smile as he approaches the crib.

“Oh, but you are, Camilla. You’ve been mine from the moment you stepped foot on this island.

I was simply waiting for the right opportunity to make things official.

And lucky for me, your resignation gave me just the opportunity I’ve been waiting for. ”

“No.” The protest comes out as nothing more than a strangled whisper. “You can't do this. It’s not right. It’s not even legal .”

With a press of a button, he lowers the side of the crib and lifts me out.

“Sweet, na?ve little Camilla. You’ve lived on this island longer than anyone.

You should know by now nobody here cares about pesky little things like laws.

The only law you need concern yourself with from this point forward, is mine. ”

As he speaks, he settles me on my back on top of a changing table, and I’m too shocked to fight back as he pulls a thick leather strap across my stomach. “Why are you doing this? You don’t even like me.”

The corners of his mouth dip down in a frown, as if he can’t believe the words that have come out of my mouth. “Why on earth would you say a thing like that?”

Stunned, I can only stare up at him. “Because you treat me like crap, Donovan! You’re mean and cold and you–you–you hate me.”

“I certainly do not hate you, little girl. If I was cold, it was simply to keep the professional distance necessary for us to do our jobs properly.”

My brain seems to short-circuit as I try to process his explanation. “Are you saying you were an asshole to me because you liked me?”

Sighing heavily, he grips my ankles in one hand, lifting my legs in the air so he can pepper my thighs with sharp, stinging swats that have me crying out in pain. “You will watch your language, little girl, or Daddy will punish your mouth. Is that what you want?”

Daddy . Everything inside me recoils in horror at that word. “You’re not my Daddy.”

“I beg to differ. And unless you want to see exactly how creative I can be when it comes to punishing my Little girl, I suggest you address me properly and forget every naughty word you’ve ever known. Am I understood, Camilla?”

Rebellion sparks in my chest, and even though I’m strapped down to a table, completely at his mercy, I can’t give in. I won’t . “No. I will never be your Little girl, Donovan. So you might as well just cut your losses and let me go now.”

Bracing on hand on either side of the changing table, he leans down until we’re nearly nose to nose.

“Listen here, little girl. I have waited far too long to make you mine for me to even consider letting you go. You belong to me , Camilla Joy. So whatever you have to do to wrap your mind around that, I suggest you do it sooner rather than later. Because the next time you call me anything other than ‘Daddy’, I will fuck that sweet little mouth until you choke on my cum and then I will gag you with your pacifier until I’m very sure you’ve learned your lesson.

Am I making myself perfectly clear, little girl? ”

The threat should terrify me. And it does, on some level. But on another, more primal level, it thrills me. Even as I have to swallow hard to be able to get the words out, my pussy spasms at the thought of what’s to come.

“I already told you, Donovan . I am not now, nor will I ever be, your Little girl.”

Emotion flickers in his eyes, too dark to be simple anger, and my heart stutters in my chest.

“Have it your way, then.”

Donovan

I would be lying if I said I was disappointed by Camilla’s reaction to her new home.

Although I will accept nothing less than her complete and total submission, I still enjoy the fight.

Really, it’s the part I enjoy the most. Watching a defiant Little girl struggle, not just with my dominance but with her own desires, until she finally gives in.

Hard-won surrender is so much sweeter.

But before I can punish my naughty girl the way she deserves, there are more important matters to attend to.

With all she had to drink last night, no doubt her bladder is about to burst. And while I am eager to get on with her punishment, I am not about to put her health at risk to indulge my own desires.

“Use your diaper, and then Daddy will punish that naughty mouth of yours.”

At the mention of her diaper, her mouth firms into a stubborn line. “No.”

In the year or so we’ve worked together, she’s never once used her diaper. I’m sure she had her reasons, so I never pushed the issue. But now she is mine, and whatever those reasons are, they are no longer relevant. “You can either use your diaper willingly, or Daddy will make you.”

“I am not using a diaper for you, Donovan Graves.”

She will. Eventually. But if she wants to be stubborn about it this morning, then I have other ways of getting what I want.

Without bothering to answer her, I reach for her right arm, pinning to her side as she struggles futilely against my hold.

She’s stronger than she looks and it takes more effort than I'd expected to strap her arm to the table.

Soon, though, both her arms are secured, and I move to the end of the changing table to pull out the stirrups I had installed just for this purpose.

“What are you doing? Let me go!”

Her struggles increase as I restrain her legs in a wide-open position, exposing the soft cotton covering the parts of her that have been kept secret from me up until now.

Part of her employment contract included regular physicals, but in my quest to keep things as professional as possible, I did not give her the same thorough exam as the other Little girls on the island.

Even while spanking her bare bottom or putting a fresh diaper on her, I deliberately did not indulge my curiosity when it came to her sweet little pussy.

That will change, soon enough. And I cannot wait.

For now, however, my focus is on taking care of my Little girl’s most immediate needs. Standing between her spread legs, I run my hand up one bare thigh, letting my fingertips brush along the edge of her diaper. “Last chance to be a good girl for Daddy and use your diaper, little one.”

Anger flashes in her eyes, not dulled at all by the fear flickering alongside it. “Never.”

“As I said before. Have it your way, then.”

Leaving her there to wonder what I might have up my sleeve, I make my way to her bathroom, where I retrieve one of the catheter kits I stored in the cabinet beneath the sink.

I take great care to wash up, scrubbing my hands and forearms until I’m certain they’re as clean as possible before drying off with a clean towel.

With the kit in hand, I return to the bedroom, where Camilla is still fighting to free herself from her restraints.

“You’re going to want to stay as still as possible,” I tell her, holding up the kit for her to see before reaching for the tabs on her diaper. “The restraints can only do so much, and I don’t have to tell you how painful it will be for you if you move too much while I’m putting the catheter in.”

Horror fills those bright blue eyes. “You can’t do that!”

“I absolutely can, little one. And I will, unless you’re ready to use your diaper.”

It’s magical, watching the struggle play out on her beautiful face. And I’m rewarded with a glimpse at the first cracks in her armor as her bottom lip trembles. “Please, don’t,” she whispers. “Please, Donovan, don’t make me do this.”

Disappointment stabs at my chest. “If you’re going to beg, then you’ll need to beg properly, Camilla. Until then…”

I let the sentence hang as I unfasten her diaper and pull it down, finally getting my first proper look at her most secret parts. She’s even more beautiful than I imagined, her bare lips glistening despite her protests.

My Little girl is enjoying her humiliation far more than she’s let on. Which is all the confirmation I need to continue.

As her whining pleas continue to fill the air, I open the box and pull out the sterile gloves, pulling them on before removing the tubing from the box.

While many of my peers would consider inserting a catheter to be beneath them, the process has always fascinated me and I’ve devoted a significant amount of time to learning the best practices.

Even going so far as to let the nurses at the hospital where I did my residency teach me their ways.

And now, I finally get to put that knowledge to good use.

Spreading her pretty little pussy lips with my left hand, I bring the pre-lubricated tip to the entrance of her urethra.

Camilla goes perfectly still as the tip presses against her hole, and I’m not even sure she’s breathing as I push it inside her, running the tube all the way up to her bladder.

I watch as the urine runs down the tubing, splashing into the cotton of her diaper.

The thrill of having her so completely under my control grips me and my cock presses hard against my slacks.

No matter how hard she fights me, no matter how much she struggles, Camilla is mine.

The stain spreading over her diaper is simply confirmation of how completely I now own her.

And I’m just getting started.