Page 21 of Layla's Daddy

I can’t believe what I’m seeing. It’s a Little girl’s wonderland.

Daddy chuckles as he rises. He pads across the room, opens the top drawer of the pink dresser, and pulls out a pair of panties. After returning to squat in front of me, he holds them open.

This is when I realize they aren’t ordinary panties. They’re much thicker cotton.

“Hold my shoulders and step in, Little one. We’ll see how you do with training panties today.”

I grab his shoulders. I’m not going to argue with him because the training panties are way better than the thick diapers I’ve been wearing. They feel like heaven when he pulls them up over my bottom.

He holds my hips and looks me in the eyes. “Breakfast, then bathtime, then you can explore in your new room. How does that sound?”

I wrap my arms around his neck and lean into him. “Scary.”

He tucks his arm under my bottom and lifts me into the air, holding me firmly against him as he carries me down to the kitchen. “What’s scary, Baby girl?”

“Letting myself believe this is real,” I admit. My head is clearer today. I need to talk to him about my feelings. I need to deal with my apartment and my job and my bills. I can’t hide any longer.

He kisses my neck. “It’s real, Little one, but I know you have concerns. We’ll discuss them today, okay?”

“Yes, Sir.” I’m relieved he isn’t going to poopoo my worries. That would annoy me.

Daddy sets me gently on the pillow on the booster seat. It’s a new seat. Once everything he ordered arrived by the end of yesterday, he packed up the borrowed items to return them to Tate. I somehow didn’t realize how much furniture had arrived. He must have only brought the larger boxes in while I was napping—which was often.

I glance up to the ceiling as Daddy fastens me into the seat. Is there really a pink room up there that’s all mine? It was like bubblegum exploded into the space with pink walls and pink rugs, pink furniture and pink pillows. A Little girl’s dream room without a doubt.

When Daddy takes my wrist in his hand and lowers it to my hip, I look down. I watch as he cuffs my wrist to the base of the seat next to my hip. He does the same with my other wrist before I can process what he’s doing. “Daddy…”

He pops my tray on and grins. “Now I won’t have to keep batting your hands out of the way while I’m feeding you.” He kisses my forehead and leaves me sitting secured to the chair.

I have a new concern. My pussy is soaked, and now so are my training panties. I worry he will touch them, accuse me of wetting my panties, and put a diaper back on me. How can Itell him that restraining me so firmly to the chair has made me hornier than ever?

I probably don’t have to tell him. The tiny T-shirt I’m wearing is doing nothing to hide my erect nipples. Every movement makes them more sensitive and harder.

I’m panting while he fixes me a plate, and there’s no way to hide my arousal when he returns to sit in front of me. He taps my nose. “I could hear you whimpering from across the room.”

My face heats. He could?

He has access to my chest in this position, and he takes full advantage of that fact, reaching out to tweak my nipples.

I moan and tip my head back. I never knew before I embarked on this new life, but apparently my nipples are very sensitive and…needy. I love the way they brush against my shirts. I haven’t worn a bra since I got here, and that keeps them hard and greedy.

I don’t think I’ve ever been as turned on as I am right now, restrained to this chair, my breasts thrust forward, Daddy now thumbing the tips. I moan unabashedly, no longer trying to hide it. I squirm and writhe in the seat. I don’t want breakfast. I want Theo to make me come.

He’s seen all of me, and he’s promised to see me even more when he gives me a bath. I’ve seen none of him. He hasn’t even taken off his shirt around me. “Daddy…”

He releases my breasts, leaving me desperate and panting. I nearly cry from the frustration.

As if he’s unaffected by my plight, he picks up my plate and offers me a bite of something. I can’t even see what it is because my vision is blurry. My mouth isn’t accepting commands from my brain, so I turn my head. I’m not trying to be defiant; I simply can’t accept a bite of food yet.

Daddy puts the food down and scoots closer to me. He sets his palms on my arms and rubs them. “Look at me, Baby girl.”

I take a deep breath and face him. “I’m not trying to be naughty.”

He smiles. “I know.”

I’m breathing heavily.

He stares at me. “Let me tell you something.”