by Grant, Livia
And he wasn’t talking about her body.
As the last dominants found their submissives, Pierce’s mind was turning over everything he’d learned so far about the little girl at his feet and he knew exactly how he was going to begin their first scene. Humiliation could mean so many things, could be done in so many ways, and while Baby was definitely hiding behind all the trappings of DDlg, she was very easy to read. He would use that to his advantage, and he’d get what he wanted.
“I can tell our couples are excited to get started, so everyone have fun and play safe!” Madison announced over the mic, releasing them, and he didn’t hesitate to lean down and rip his sub off the floor by a pigtail. The mewl of pain went straight to his cock, and although her hands came up instinctively toward his, she stopped herself. Little fists forming at her sides as her arms went rigid with self-control.
That’s right, little princess, show me what you’re capable of so I can push you further.
Dragging her back to the stairs, Pierce scooped up his bag and then led her out of the theater with the slow-moving crowd. A few of the audience members had already chosen his little slut as a focus for their attention, but he ignored them as they followed at a somewhat respectful distance. As soon as he passed through the curtain to the play area, he scanned it for the perfect space to play out this show.
A platform. That one. But it needed some tweaks.
He still had her pigtail wrapped in his fist, using it like a leash, but she was silent as he pulled her toward it. Submissive or scared? Time would tell.
“Down,” he commanded, applying pressure with his grip on her hair, but it wasn’t necessary. She did it, and he let go to test her some more. “Nose on the floor.”
There was a flicker of hesitation, but then she bent over her legs again, knees spreading so she could get her nose all the way to the floor.
Strangely, he felt frustrated by her silence, her complete obedience, and he crouched down to grip the back of her neck, pushing her more firmly to the floor. “How are you supposed to respond to a command, little whore?”
With his hand on her neck, he felt the wave of tension, the reaction to the name, and his smile spread out of her line of sight as she replied, “Yes, sir.”
“That’s right. Maybe you should spend the next few minutes focusing on paying attention while I get our space ready.” He let go of her and stood, leaving her there to grab the first Dungeon Monitor he could see. Santiago was passing nearby, and he signaled to him with a hand as he approached.
“What’cha need?” the DM asked, glancing past him toward the girl on the floor with an appreciative smile.
“I want to use this platform, but I need the stocks taken off. Can you replace it with a chair to one side, a nice chair. Leave as much floorspace as you can.” An idea came to mind, and he couldn’t suppress the sadistic grin that spread across his face. “And I need clear plastic on the floor. Do you have that?”
“Of course,” Santiago answered with a chuckle. “You spun humiliation, right?”
“Yes.” Pierce nodded and the DM gave him a knowing look, offering a quick salute.
“We’ll get it done.”
With the DMs on top of what he needed, he took a slow, leisurely walk around Baby. He’d been right that her skirt revealed her entire ass in this position, but the white underwear concealed her cunt from view.
She hadn’t moved from where he’d put her, and if this was how most littles acted, he might have been able to see the appeal — but too many of them were brats. And he didn’t do the Daddy bullshit. He liked to see them cry, to make them obey even beyond what they thought they would do. Pushing limits was his favorite pastime.
Limits. Dammit.
Rolling his eyes, Pierce moved in front of her and snapped his fingers. “Sit up.”
A muffled, “Yes, sir,” came from her as she lifted onto her knees, and he was rewarded with the bright pink of her blush on her cheeks, accented by the reddened skin of her forehead and the tip of her nose. The fact that she’d obeyed well enough to mark her own skin had his dick twitching in his pants and the sadist inside him whispering too many dark ideas.
Patience. Information first.
“Obviously humiliation wasn’t on your list of limits, but what did you choose, little whore?”
“I…” Her voice trailed off as her eyes flicked up to his for a moment before dropping back to the floor, a nervous swallow moving the ivory column of her throat again. “I chose blood play, needle play, watersports, and, um… sensory deprivation.”
“You sure about that last one?” he asked, raising an eyebrow a little. “You don’t sound very confident.”
She nodded hard, her pigtails dancing on her shoulders with the movement. “I am, sir.”
“Okay. So, you’re scared of the dark?” he asked, shifting closer and planting one of his shoes between her spread knees. Using the toe of his shoe, he flicked the hem of her skirt. “Or is that just part of this baby girl routine?”
“I just don’t like not being able to see and hear what’s going on around me. Sir.”
“Sure,” he replied, letting the single word drip with his doubt. She was probably lying. So many of the subs here lied, pretended, faked shit to get what they wanted. Snapping his fingers again, he stepped back from her. “Get up and strip all this shit off. I hate costumes.”
* * *
Tori
Her stomach dropped at his words. It wasn’t that he told her to get naked, she’d been prepared for that, it was his complete derision for what she wore.
“You really won’t like it if I have to make you strip, slut,” he growled, and she looked up at him. Intense eyes were focused completely on her and she had no doubt he’d follow through with the vague threat.
“Yes, sir,” she muttered. Standing up, she undressed without any teases or demure glances at him. He wanted her naked, he thought her clothes were shit, and so… fuck him. She wasn’t ashamed of her body, her curves, or the slightly softer belly she had now than a few years before. Leaning down, she unbuckled her shoes and dumped them next to the pile of cloth, adding her stockings to the top without folding a single piece.
A Daddy wouldn’t have tolerated that. He would have called her naughty, would have made her fix it before he spanked her.
Pierce didn’t even spare a glance at the clothes as he moved close, forcing her to tilt her head back to continue looking into his face as a smirk teased the edge of his mouth. “You almost did what I asked.”
Her head spun with confusion, looking down at her nudity, but a hard grip on her chin yanked her face back up before he let go to run his fingers through each of her pigtails.
“I said all of it,” he clarified, grabbing hold of the little hair ties near her scalp and yanking them down along with the ribbons she’d added. The sting of hair pulling free was a momentary distraction, but it was over fast. Still, it felt wrong to feel her hair pooling around her shoulders at Black Light. She always wore the pigtails — they were part of her personality here. The little girl she got to be when she played with a Daddy who made sure she didn’t have to make any decisions, who coddled her and took care of her.
But it was clear that Pierce had no plans on doing any of that… so… maybe the pigtails didn’t matter. She just wished the sudden tightness in her stomach agreed.
“Why are you into this babygirl shit anyway?” Pierce asked, still way too close to her as that evaluating gaze traced her face.
Tori pulled her lower lip between her teeth, chewing on it as she tried to figure out how to answer, but he caught her chin in his grip and plucked it free with his thumb.
“Answer.”
“It makes me feel safe,” she whispered, chin still caught in his fingers, and she watched as his eyes narrowed. Judging her. “I know what’s expected of me, I never have to think about it. It’s… easy to be a good girl.”
“I don’t do easy.” Pierce slid his hand down to her throat, just under her
jaw, angling her head back even further as his fingers tightened just enough to make her pulse race. “I don’t do the babygirl shit, and I’m not calling you Baby tonight. What’s your name?”
Even in the vulnerable position, she felt her back stiffen. He didn’t have the right to ask for her real name. Her scene name was her name inside Black Light. She didn’t have to be Tori Brewer inside these walls. She paid a fuckton of money to not be Tori Brewer while she was here. Clenching her teeth, she forced a slow breath through her nose to build up the confidence to say, “I don’t have to tell you that. Sir.”
He chuckled, a dark smile lingering on his lips as he brought his face down to hers. “True. But you spun humiliation, little slut, so I can spend the next three hours watching you lick the shower floor clean with your tongue and we won’t be disqualified. Or, you can tell me your name and I can show you how I like to play.”
Fuck.
Something about the way he said that made heat bloom between her thighs, and her breath shuddered as temptation danced before her. It was an offer. A dark promise. Something completely new, and wasn’t that what she’d told the woman in the red dress they were both here for tonight?
Screw it.
“Tori,” she answered, feeling the blush in her cheeks burning even as she squeezed her thighs together to suppress the tingling his grin summoned.
“Tori,” he repeated, his voice a satisfying rumble. “Let me guess… you came here hoping to find your fairy tale prince who was going to sweep you off your feet and keep you as his pretty pretty princess forever. Am I right?”
“N—” Before she even had the chance to finish the single syllable of denial, Pierce’s fingers tightened on her throat, cutting it off and making her cough as her breaths became uncomfortably thin.
“I’m relatively sure you haven’t lied to me yet, so let’s not start now or Black Light is going to have a very clean shower floor.”
The pressure on her throat eased and she pulled in a desperate breath, digging her nails into her palms as she squeezed her eyes closed.
“Look at me, whore,” he growled, and her eyes popped open again, his handsome face filling her vision. “Last chance.”
“Maybe,” she whispered, and he chuckled, shaking his head slowly.
“Maybe, what?”
“Maybe I… maybe I wanted to find someone tonight to sweep me off my feet. A Daddy that would know what I needed,” she mumbled, hating that he was making her look into his eyes for this confession. Her cheeks were on fire, her muscles trembling, and she wasn’t even sure if he’d started with the kink yet, or if this was just how he tormented subs all the time.
“And what do you need?”
Tori’s lips parted to answer, but her tongue didn’t move to shape any words because… there were no words. That was why she’d ended things with Max, and John before him, and every other Daddy before that. She’d needed something more but whenever they’d talked about it, she’d never had the answer, and she didn’t have it now. Wetting her lips, she stared into his eyes as she whispered, “I don’t know.”
Pierce’s lips curved into a sinister smile, a predator about to tear out the throat he held in his grip. “I believe you. But here’s the thing, Tori… I’m not a prince, and if this was a fairytale, I’d be the wicked man who shows up to drag the pretty little princess into the dirt.”
Fire washed up her body, licking across her skin at the same time a chill raced down her spine because his words touched something inside her she didn’t know was there. That was the opposite of what a Daddy would say. It was threatening instead of comforting, dangerous instead of safe. But fuck if she wasn’t wet at the idea of Pierce dragging her into the proverbial dirt.
Wicked is right.
“Your station is ready, sir.” One of the DMs spoke from beside them, but Pierce didn’t break eye contact with her. His gaze held her as firmly as the fingers he still had wrapped around her throat.
“Thank you, Santiago,” her dom answered, and then she watched as his menacing smile widened, revealing perfect, white teeth. “Time to see what makes you tick, Tori.”
Chapter 4
Pierce
It was the fucking wide-eyed innocence thing she had going for her that was messing with his head, but he’d never been into that shit. At least he thought he wasn’t, but his dick seemed interested because it had twitched behind his zipper when she’d knelt at his feet without a single complaint. No eyerolls, no muttered comments under her breath — just submission.
But he wasn’t a Daddy. He didn’t play with littles, and, more importantly, he didn’t believe it.
The schoolgirl shit had just been a costume, a shell, a shield to hide who she really was… and he wasn’t falling for it. Tori wasn’t innocent, no one was, and so he didn’t hesitate to shift his fingers into the loose hair at the back of her head and bend her over so he couldn’t stare into those warm brown pools anymore.
“Move,” he commanded, pushing her ahead of him as he grabbed his bag on the way up the steps.
He kept her uncomfortably bent with his grip in her hair, but she made it up the stairs without him having to catch her, and he felt the sudden jerk of her muscles when her foot landed on the crinkling plastic covering the platform. She tried to stand upright, but he forced her down, enjoying the way her knees buckled to the floor and her hands slapped the plastic to catch her.
“Stay on all fours.”
“Yes, sir.” Her voice floated out of the curtain of hair shielding her face, and for a moment he regretted ripping the pigtails free, but they were part of her costume and he wanted to find the real Tori. Audience members drifted closer now that her body was on display on the platform, and he was sure that the plastic had them just as curious as Tori.
Without hesitating, he unzipped his bag and dug around, setting a few items aside on the clean plastic before he picked up the one he wanted to start with.
Santiago had done well, bringing in one of the high-backed leather chairs from the bar area. It was exactly the kind of differential he’d wanted, and he quickly removed his suit jacket, draping it over the back. As he sank into the plush leather, he became keenly aware that he had the start of a hard-on… and she hadn’t even cried yet. Weird.
“Crawl to me.”
Tori’s head turned, lifting slightly before her hands and knees made the plastic crinkle loudly. Anyone nearby would hear the sound, even over the music and the striking sound of a paddle hitting skin, and he could tell she hated it. The plastic stuck to her hands for a second each time she lifted them, and it was causing each of her crawling steps to be exaggerated. Limbs lifted higher, moving slower, but it gave him one hell of a view as her breasts swayed and she chewed on her lip again, those brown eyes seeking his whenever she was brave enough to look up at him.
She stopped with her hands in front of his shoes, and a couple of men positioned themselves directly behind her around the platform, staring right between her thighs. He felt a strange urge to tell them to fuck off, but this was what they’d paid for. He couldn’t tell them what to look at or not look at. Still, he told her to “Kneel.”
Tori sat back on her heels, looking up at him with that blush still present, and he couldn’t suppress a grin because she was broadcasting her nerves at top volume.
“Why did you choose the name Baby?” he asked, hiding the item beside his thigh as he started to roll up his sleeves.
There was a flash of defiance in her eyes before they dropped to the floor in front of her knees. Her breath shuddered before she spoke up. “I like it.”
“You like to be called Baby?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Are you into that diaper stuff? Being treated like a baby? Given a bottle, a pacifier?” He sounded more irritated than he actually was, but it definitely wasn’t his kink, or anything he was interested in trying. Even for humiliation.
“No, sir,” she replied, and he almost called her a liar, but then it hit him. The only oth
er reason someone would choose the scene name of Baby.
“Ohh… I get it. You like it because it’s a term of endearment. You like being called Baby because it makes whoever you play with feel more familiar, makes the whole scene — whatever it is — feel more intimate.” He knew he was right when Tori’s shoulders curved in, a subtle shift in body language that showed how much she was trying to defend against his words, but he wasn’t letting her have that. “Look at me.”
Tori raised her head, and he saw the hint of pain in her eyes, so he knew just where to push the first button as he picked up the hidden tool he needed.
“Stand up and put your hands behind your back.”
“Yes, sir,” she muttered, taking the position he’d requested without hesitation, but her arms twitched when he revealed the marker in his hand.
“Be still.” Leaning forward, he grabbed her hip and tugged her a step closer so he wouldn’t have to reach so far. Right across her belly, he wrote ‘BABY’ in large letters, moving the marker slowly so she felt every line as he continued to speak. “You realize that intimacy is fake, don’t you? It’s a lie. They’re not calling you ‘baby’ because they like you, or love you, or whatever, it’s because you told them to. It’s just a name, a word, and in a scene it doesn’t mean anything at all because you chose it.”
As he drew the bottom half of the ‘Y,’ Pierce looked up at her and saw the shine of tears in her eyes and his cock kicked to attention against his zipper. Rock hard in an instant.
Fuck, she’s pretty.
He’d acknowledged her curves before, but with all the babygirl shit he hadn’t been able to really see her… and now he did. There wasn’t a single fake thing about Tori’s face. No plastic surgery, no ridiculously oversized lips, and even her makeup was subdued — and she was absolutely beautiful with those tears in her warm brown eyes. Damn.
