Nurturing Britney (Surrender Book 7)

by Becca Jameson

  It took every ounce of strength in me to send her to bed last night without joining her. She’s too much of a temptation, and I’ll regret it for the rest of my life if I take her virginity without her knowing the entire picture and agreeing to my terms.

  I can’t guarantee in the end that either of those things will happen, so I need to keep my dick in my pants, which means I also need to tread carefully with regard to how much time I spend in the presence of her naked body.

  She’s so fucking gorgeous. Perfection. Every time I look at her, my breath catches, and with each passing day, she’s taking on more and more characteristics of a little. She doesn’t even know it. I absolutely have to sit her down and explain age play to her. I need to do it tonight. I can’t in good conscience let this continue much longer without providing her with all the information. After I explain things, then she can spend some time researching and thinking. I need her to explore this kink with open eyes if she wants to continue dabbling.

  My greatest fear is that she needs to experience this lifestyle temporarily to fill a hole left from a rotten childhood. It’s not uncommon. And if that’s the case, she won’t necessarily crave the age play forever. She might outgrow it.

  I, on the other hand, will not. So, I can’t enter into a deeper relationship with her or bring her into my bed until she’s had a chance to examine her needs and wants. She’s also going to need time. Enough of it that she can be certain she wants to continue being little. Enough that she doesn’t wake up one day and realize it was a phase and she’s over it.

  As I return home Sunday night, I park and take a moment to close my eyes and draw in a deep breath. I’m filled with dread. It scares me to death that this perfect woman might not be mine forever. I can’t force her. It’s her choice. Accepting a permanent Daddy and entering into a full-time relationship as a little is no small thing.

  She’s toying now. Playing. She doesn’t even know it.

  And it’s killing me slowly as I watch her evolve and learn and take on new aspects of the lifestyle. Am I doing more harm than good? I can’t be sure. I like to think I’ve taken my cues from her, but I’m so deeply involved that I’m not sure how much I’m influencing her.

  I enter the house from the garage, stepping into the kitchen. The great room is quiet. I can hear her talking though, probably from her bedroom. I glance at the counter and see her cell phone lying where she normally leaves it and frown. Who is she talking to?

  I head quietly toward her voice, not wanting to disturb her or startle her. The door to her bedroom is open, and when I round the corner and step into the doorway, I stop in my tracks. My chest clenches and I can’t move or breathe.

  Britney is sitting on the floor across the room facing the corner. Her legs are crossed. She’s wearing today’s pink dress which I only got the pleasure of seeing for a few minutes before I left this morning.

  What’s caught me off-guard is that she’s having a tea party with her bunny. Today’s surprise gift was a dainty porcelain tea set covered with pink roses. She was delighted when she opened it, but I wasn’t sure if she would stick it on a shelf or use it.

  Now, I have my answer. She’s talking to Bunny and pouring tea. She stops at times to take a pretend sip herself. And then she giggles and reaches over to wipe Bunny’s face as if the stuffed animal has had a spill.

  I’m fairly certain my heart has stopped beating. I don’t want to disrupt her. I want to watch.

  Her dress is flowing around her, the hem barely touching the floor. It’s a soft cotton material, and it was a risky choice for today. I wasn’t sure how she would react. It’s younger. But she seemed pleased when she came out of her bedroom, so I was relieved.

  The sleeves are short but poufy, gathering around her biceps. Youthful. The length is inches below her bottom. I left her lavender panties from the same pack as yesterday’s with a white bow at the belly button. I watched her squirm and tug on the front panel of the dress while she ate breakfast, knowing that it will take time for her to adjust to not wearing a bra.

  There’s something about women and bras. I love how self-conscious a woman can become simply by leaving the darn confining garment off. I personally like to have easy access to my submissive’s tits, but I also enjoy the way they find themselves more sensitive when their nipples aren’t covered. Apparently, the constant movement of any fabric over a woman’s nipples goes a long way toward heightening their arousal.

  I lean against the door frame while Britney explains to her stuffed animal that no she may not have another cookie. It’s too close to dinner. My smile is a mile wide.

  I can’t stand here eavesdropping forever though. I’m going to have to break up the party. Finally, I force myself to clear my throat. “Hey, sweetie, whatcha doin’?” I step farther into the room.

  Britney spins her upper body around. When she spots me, she jumps to her feet. Her face is flushed and she backs up to the wall, nearly stepping on her tea set.

  “Sorry, sweet girl, I didn’t mean to startle you.” I stop my approach, though what I really want to do is pull her into my arms and inhale her scent.

  She lowers her gaze and then silently bends down and starts putting the tea set back in its padded box.

  I’m not sure why she’s so quiet, so I continue until I’m next to her, and then I squat down beside her and set a hand on her back. “What’s wrong, sweetie?”

  She shakes her head as she hurries to put the dishes away, finally closing the box and then snatching her bunny and tossing her on the bed. She rushes across the room and puts the box containing the tea set on the dresser. She hesitates and then runs into the bathroom and shuts the door.

  She hasn’t said a single word.

  I rise to my feet and take a deep breath as I wait. I need a shower. It’s been a long day. I’m frustrated from being no closer to making Britney safe than I was when I met her. I don’t want to worry her with the details, which only makes my pent-up frustration worse.

  But I’m not going anywhere until I deal with whatever spooked Britney. I wish I could go back five minutes in time and handle my entrance better. The problem is that I’m not quite sure what she’s thinking or what she needed from me.

  After five minutes with not a single noise in the bathroom, I knock on the door. “Britney? Sweetie? You okay?”

  “I just need a few minutes.”

  I don’t like the tone of her voice. “Sweetie, please open the door.”

  There’s no response.

  I rub my forehead, trying to decide how to proceed. We’re on the cusp of something huge here. I fully intend to talk to her about age play tonight, and now this. I’m not certain what the best course of action is, but I decide to go full Daddy on her. “Britney,” I demand, “open the door.”

  I hear her shuffling and then the knob turns.

  I have to push the door open farther, but at least I can see her now. She’s standing there with her arms folded in front of her, her fists clenched together against her mouth.

  I reach out and stroke my hand down the back of her head and then pull her closer until I have her in my arms. She’s shaking and she won’t lift her face.

  “Sweetie, whatever it is, it can’t be that bad. Talk to me.”

  She shakes her head.

  I kiss the top of her head, inhaling the powder scent of her conditioner.

  When she still gives me no response, I take her hands and pull them from her face. “Come.” I keep one arm wrapped around her and lead her from the bedroom and down the hall toward the living room. I need to hold her. I need her in my lap so that I can face her and get her to talk to me.

  I sit in one of the leather armchairs and pull her into my lap. She’s barefoot, and she draws her knees up and sets her little feet between my legs. She rocks forward so that her chin is on her knees, her hands fisted at the sides of her face. Her hair is once again a curtain that blocks out the world.

  I gather the long locks and drape them over her shoulder an
d then I tug her closest hand down and tip her chin toward me. “Look at me, sweetie.”

  She slowly meets my gaze. Her eyes are watery. “I’m embarrassed.”

  I frown. “About what?”

  “I didn’t realize how late it was and you caught me playing on the floor like a small child. I feel ridiculous.”

  “Ahhh.” Now I get it. Everything finally makes more sense, although I’m slightly shocked that this is the first moment that has caused her to realize what she’s been doing for days.

  I tuck a lock of hair behind her ear and stroke her cheek. “I don’t want you to be embarrassed. There’s nothing wrong with enjoying certain aspects of childhood. I bought you the tea set, sweetie. I intended for you to use it.”

  Her eyes widen. “Surely, it was a trinket you expected me to put on a shelf and look at. Not something I got down on the floor and played with.” Her voice is cracking.

  I shake my head. “You missed out on tea parties and coloring and a host of other things. I’m trying to give that back to you if that’s what you want. And you’re permitted to recreate what you missed out on.”

  She turns her face away and stares across the room. “I’m confused.”

  “That’s understandable.” And my fault. I let this go on too long. I should have spoken up yesterday or the day before or the day she came to my house. Why did I wait so long?

  I know the answer. I’ve been selfishly watching her ease into my world without a comment. It was bound to blow up in my face eventually.

  “Grown women do not play with tea sets and stuffed animals,” she murmurs, her gaze going to her knees.

  Does she have any idea that her dress is bunched up at her waist and I can see her panties?

  “Sweetie, we need to talk.”

  She glances at me. Her lip trembles. “You want me to move out, don’t you?”

  My eyes widen. “God, no. Not at all.”

  She looks back down. “I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done for me. You’ve been so kind, and you’ve indulged me at a time I really needed a break. I need to snap out of it and get back to my real life. I have responsibilities. I need a new job and probably a place to live. I—”

  I set a finger on her lips to silence her. “Britney, hush, sweetie. Listen to me. I know you’re confused and scared and probably about to be a little angry with me, but you’re not going anywhere because it’s not safe. Understand?”

  “Yes, Sir,” she whispers and then winces.

  My heart seizes again. She is so precariously close to being fully little and doesn’t understand. “I need you to listen to me closely, okay? Can you do that?”

  She nods.

  I pull her closer, hugging her against me. I need to touch as much of her as I can. “Remember when we talked about BDSM and the fact that I’m a Dominant?”

  “Yes.” She’s looking at her knees, but that’s okay. I just need her to hear me.

  “Well, I belong to a club. It’s called Surrender. That’s not the important part, but what I want you to know is that there are many different types of dominance and submission. The fetish community is large and growing. A great percentage of people enjoy participating in some aspect of the community on many different levels. Some people play a few hours a week, and for others, it’s a lifestyle choice.”

  “What does this have to do with me?” she asks, glancing at me.

  “Well, that’s what we’re going to explore and figure out.”

  Her brow scrunches.

  I stroke her cheek again. “I practice a particular subset of BDSM called age play. Have you ever heard of that?”

  She shakes her head.

  “It means that I’m what they call a Daddy Dom.”

  She frowns.

  “I enjoy having a relationship with a submissive who would prefer to turn her care over to me, taking on the role of what’s called a little.”

  “A little?”

  “A little is anyone in the community who enjoys spending time recreating some or all aspects of their childhood. Living as an adult child. It encompasses any age. Could be boys or girls. And in the lifestyle, other adults enjoy caring for littles. They are referred to as Daddies and Mommies.”

  She stares at me, swallowing.

  I continue. “There are many reasons why an adult might enjoy being a little. Perhaps they preferred the freedom of that stage of life. Perhaps some trauma caused them to miss out on an aspect of their childhood. For some, they have a hole that needs filling because they never had a Daddy or Mommy.” I let that sink in.

  Tears form and she swipes at them. “Like me.”

  “Like you. And I should have explained this sooner. I didn’t because you seemed so eager to experience everything I presented you with. You show many signs of being not only submissive but also having a tendency to enjoy age play.” I pluck the front of her dress to point out what she’s wearing.

  She holds my gaze for a moment and then leans her body against mine, setting her head on my shoulder.

  Blessed angels. She hasn’t run from the house.

  I let her sit with all that information for a while, stroking her arm with the hand around her and her bare thigh with the one I’ve set on her lap.

  “I thought I was strange, that something was wrong with me,” she murmurs eventually.

  “Not at all, sweetie. You’re exploring an option. That’s all. It’s possible you just need to experience the things you missed. And that’s okay. Some people go through a phase, indulging their inner child with all the things that go with that stage of life.”

  “I got caught up in all the pretty things I never had and didn’t stop to consider what I was doing.”

  “I know, sweetie. That’s my fault.”

  “It’s like I stepped away from reality and slid down a rabbit hole, popping out into a different dimension. One where someone cares about me and lets me escape my life. I’ve been ignoring my responsibilities and pretending I’m not even who I am.”

  “And that’s okay, sweetie. There’s nothing wrong with exploring your inner little girl.”

  Several minutes go by again before she asks, “Was Collette your little girl?”

  “Yes, sweetie, she was. But we had some differences of opinion and eventually, we split up. Our relationship was on the rocks before I moved to Seattle.”

  “Did she live with you like this? Like you were her Daddy and she was your little girl?”

  “Yes.”

  “What if I want to keep pretending for a while?” She plays with the hem of her dress.

  “Then I’d be delighted if you’d let me help guide you in the lifestyle and find out what works for you.”

  “I’m not helping out with the expenses.”

  “And I don’t want you to. I enjoy taking care of you, sweetie. It makes me happy.” I give her a little squeeze. “Besides, you’re kinda stuck for the foreseeable future until I can be sure you’re no longer in danger.”

  “You can’t take care of me forever,” she points out.

  “Why not?”

  She shrugs. “It’s weird.”

  “No one but the two of us gets to decide what’s right for us. I enjoy taking care of you. So very much. It’s not weird unless we think it is.”

  She lifts her gaze, concern written on her face. “Would we have sex?”

  I smile at her. “That’s a loaded question, so let me explain. First of all, it’s largely up to you. For some littles, age play is not sexual. They just like to live as a younger child. For other littles, it’s very much sexual. They get aroused from the age play itself.”

  She squirms on my lap, proving my point.

  I pinch the front of her dress and give it a little tug. “I think it’s safe to say you find it sexual.”

  “Yes, Sir.” She wiggles her bottom again. “Does that mean you’ll have sex with me?”

  I shake my head. “No. It means I want to have sex with you. Big difference.”

  She fr
owns.

  “Sweet girl, you need to explore this for a while. Try it out. See if you like it. You might enjoy it for a few weeks and then decide it scratched an itch and you’re done. In the meantime, I’ll be here. I’ll give you what you crave like I did the other night. But I’m not going to have sex with you at this stage in our relationship for two reasons.” I tap her chest between her breasts.

  She giggles. “What reasons?”

  “One, I’m not taking your virginity unless and until we both decide beyond a shadow of a doubt that our relationship is permanent. I would feel like a world-class asshole if I took something that precious from you before you were mine.”

  “You already told me I’m yours,” she points out, smiling a wicked grin.

  I chuckle. “I did. I probably shouldn’t have, but I couldn’t help myself. I can’t lie. I want this to work. I want you to be mine so badly. I feel a connection with you that’s beyond anything I’ve ever experienced. I want you to have the world. And I want to hold your hand and give it to you.”

  She’s smiling at me.

  “But you need time, and I’m going to give you that. All the time you need. It’s yours.”

  “Okay.”

  It’s like a two-ton brick lifts off my chest. I close my eyes and pull her closer, leaning forward to bury my face in her neck. I inhale her scent and kiss her behind her ear before meeting her gaze again. “You’re so precious, sweetie. I’ll do everything I can to make sure you have the most wonderful experience exploring the life of a little. I don’t want you to worry about tomorrow or next week or even next month. Just live in the here and now. Okay?”

  “Yes, Sir.” She glances over her shoulder toward the kitchen. “Are you going to tell me what the tally marks are for now?”

  I chuckle. “Nope. Soon.”

  Chapter 17

  Britney

  I wander around the living room while Davis goes to take a shower. He says he’ll be quick, but it gives me some time to think about everything he’s told me.

  I keep glancing down at my dress, realizing he was already intentionally providing me with the things I crave. Crayons and coloring books. A tea set. Rules and chore charts. Dresses and panties. There are hairbands and ribbons in my bathroom. Maybe I should try putting my hair up in pigtails. I wonder if Davis would like that.