Page 22 of Sophia's Daddy
He sits on the wide edge of the tub and pulls me between his legs. “Talk to me. You look troubled.”
“I’m fine,” I murmur.
He tips my chin back. “New rule. No lying to Daddy. It’s okay that you’re nervous when we do new things. Totally understandable. But I want you to talk to me about your feelings. Never tell me something because you think it’s what I want to hear.”
“Okay, Daddy.” I draw in a deep breath and glance at the tub. “I don’t know if I’ll be big or Little when I’m in the tub. That makes me nervous.”
“Ah.” He strokes my back. “I don’t think you need to worry about floating back and forth between the two, Little one. I’ll take my cues from you. I bet you’ll feel Little while you play with toys and I bathe you. I bet you’ll switch to feeling pretty adult without hesitation when I reach between your legs and thrust my fingers into your pussy.” He lifts a brow.
My face heats, and I stare at him wide-eyed.
“Some Littles have difficulty shifting back and forth on a dime. Some don’t. I don’t think you’ll have a problem, but if it’s an issue, you’ll tell me, and we’ll figure it out together. Some Littles need alone time to switch back and forth. Others can just let it happen.”
“Okay.” I take a deep breath. He’s not concerned about this at all, so I shouldn’t let it bother me.
He sets me back a few inches and reaches for the hem of my shirt. “Arms up, Little one.”
I’m trembling as I lift my hands above my head and let him remove my work T-shirt. I didn’t even have time to change before he picked me up, so I’m still wearing jeans and my Candy Shop shirt. At least it’s a pale blue with a dark blue logo because the owner doesn’t care what color our shirts are as long as they’re all the same logo. In fact, she likes that we’re all colorful and don’t match precisely.
“This is sexy,” Daddy comments as he runs his fingers along the edge of my white lace bra. It’s the sexiest one I own. I don’t usually wear anything this risqué because I’ve never had anyone see my bra before.
He meets my gaze as he unbuttons my jeans. “Do you have on matching panties, Baby girl?”
I nod and grin. “But don’t expect this from me on the regular. It’s the only matched set I own,” I warn him.
“So far…” He lifts that sexy brow again. I guess he’s planning to buy me more of them.
I grab his shoulders and kick off my tennis shoes while he lowers my jeans over my hips. The moment he reveals my panties, his breath hitches. “Fuck, that’s sexy, Sophia.”
I watch his face as he lowers my jeans down my body and gasp when he suddenly stands, lifts me off my feet, and sets me on the vanity. He makes quick work of tugging the denim down my legs and removing my socks.
When he’s done, he stares at me. His expression is intense. He licks his lips, making me shudder. He spreads my thighs with both hands and eases his thumbs over to the edge of my panties. “You shaved…” His voice is reverent.
“I had it waxed this morning, and uh…” I swallow.
He lifts his gaze to mine. “And?”
“It really hurt. I thought I might kick the woman in the face,” I admit.
He chuckles. “I bet. How about you let Daddy take care of it from now on? I can either shave it or use a cream that dissolves the new hair and keeps your skin smooth.”
“Okay, Daddy.” I like that plan much better. I wasn’t ready for him to do it today, but the idea is far more appealing than the waxing process. That was really painful. And I would feel very nervous trying to shave it myself.
Daddy stands me on my feet again, pops the clasp at the back of my bra so it falls down my arms, and lowers my panties. “How did I get so lucky?”
I bite my lip but release it on a squeal when he grabs my hips and lifts me off the floor to set me in the tub. He always startles me when he picks me up. I guess I should get used to it. He obviously likes carrying me and moving me around.
“On your bottom, Little one. I don’t want you to fall.”
I sit and hold the sides of the enormous tub while I watch him open the cabinet under the sink and remove a basket. It’s filled with bath toys, and I giggle.
“Have you ever had any toys, Little one? Or did you just have bath crayons so you could pretend that all adults have them so they can make grocery lists on the wall of the tub while they bathe?” he teases.
I shake my head. “I’ve never had any toys.” But I think he’s right. I’ve made weird excuses in my head for the things I own that are actually Little, telling myself they were necessary forsome adult reason. I’ve often used the crayons to draw pictures, but then I erased them just as fast before I could let myself think I was actually Little in my own home.
Why have I gone to such lengths to hide from myself? No one would have ever known. Why would I care?
I feel lighter and gleeful as I choose a mermaid from the basket. I giggle as I dunk her in the water and find out her bodice turns from pink to blue when she gets wet.