“You can’t go forever without talking to me about this, you know,” he said softly. “I promise to never tease or judge you. I know you trust me, otherwise we would not be sitting here together right now.”
“It’s stupid. I don’t wanna discuss it.”
“How about if I tell you a secret? One about how I was introduced to age-play, and what I went through as I discovered my own needs? Would that help make you feel more comfortable?”
Camille sat up, suddenly interested. “I dunno. You’re really gonna tell me a secret?” Erik suppressed a smile at her response, the corners of his mouth struggling not to move as she kicked the leg of the table like an impatient child.
“A real secret. One that no one in the whole world knows. Not even Arty. A secret that will just be between Daddy and his special Cami-girl.”
Camille nodded, her curiosity piqued. Erik stood up, picking the plates up off the table. “Let’s clean up our mess and then go to the tower. It is the only place in this whole house where a real secret can be shared.”
“Because there aren’t no cameras?”
“Yes, because there aren’t any cameras,” Erik nodded, putting the dishes in the dishwasher and then holding his hand out for her. “But before we go up there, do you want to dress in something more age-appropriate?”
Camille nodded, chewing on her lower lip. She could not resist his lead as he drew her down closer to the age that she was feeling. They entered the nursery and he sat her on the rocking chair before he began to rummage through the drawers. With an armful of clothing, he sat on her little bed and beckoned.
“Come to Daddy, honey girl. Let’s get you dressed.”
Camille silently obliged, and stood before him nervously. He began to hum as he peeled her sweats from her body, leaving her standing in her bra and bikini panties. He shook his head.
“These are way too old for you, my love. Let’s start with a little undershirt. You don’t need this,” he said, deftly unhooking the bra and pulling it off her shoulders. Camille felt her body tense slightly. “Relax. I am just dressing you. Arms up.”
Camille had to admit to herself that she was a little disappointed that he had not taken that moment to touch her small breasts. She had been fantasizing about the feel of his hands on her body since the bubble bath episode and the presence of his fingers so close to her nipples caused her to ache for his touch. Erik kissed the back of her hand and smiled reassuringly before lifting the white cotton panties covered with tiny pink and purple balloons.
“These are so much cuter, don’t you agree? Hold Daddy’s shoulders while I change you. That’s my girl,” his low, gentle voice praised as Camille placed her little hands upon the flats of his shoulders. She bit her lip as she felt his shoulder muscles move as he reached down to slide the ‘big girl’ panties from her body. He patted her rump, signaling her to step out of the bikinis and lift her foot for the new ones. There was something different in how he handled her now, more intimate and nurturing than before. She could not put a label on it except that it simply felt right.
He chatted lightly as he dressed her in a My Little Pony t-shirt and pale pink sweat pants, My Little Pony socks with tiny purple ruffles and sparkly purple sneakers. He left her hair in the French braid, but added a purple satin bow to the end ‘for cuteness sake,’ he explained.
“All done! No daddy could ever have asked for a prettier little girl. Go on. Take a look,” he encouraged. Camille swallowed anxiously before walking across the room to the mirrored closet door. Her hand flew up to her mouth as she observed herself. She was cute! Even her freckles seemed to fit into the design of the outfit and made her look more adorable. She looked up in the mirror to see Erik standing behind her.
“I told you that you were bee-you-ti-ful,” he grinned, hands on her shoulders. “You just needed to see for yourself.”
“It’s this outfit…” Camille began to argue.
“No, it’s you. This, darling,” he made her look in the mirror again, “is all you. You absolutely glow in this experience, honey. You were made for it. Now, are you ready to hear my secret? Good! Let’s go hide in the tower.”
Camille released a nervous twitter as he snatched her hand in his. He led her toward the tower room and smacked her lightly on the backside to make her hurry up the stairs. After settling her on his lap and covering them both with a soft blanket, he began to tell his story.
“I had just turned eighteen when I was doing a movie with an associate of Arthur’s. She was much older than I was, in her forties, and build like a gorgeous Amazon. She played the part of my father’s mistress and was scripted to seduce me. For a fairly naive teenage boy, it was nothing but torture to watch her walk around the set half-naked and, even more, have her practice her lines on me. It was, needless to say, embarrassing for me on many levels.” He pointed to his crotch.
“One morning after we shot one of the scenes, she called Arthur and told him that she was going to take me out to lunch. Well, I was not expecting what she had planned. She took me to her apartment, closed the door behind her, and ordered me to strip.”
“That is terrible!”
“One would think so now, but not a horny kid,” Erik chuckled. “Unfortunately, I was too horny, and no sooner did I take off my pants than I came all over myself. I will honestly say that was one of the most embarrassing moments of my life. Until she stepped in to intervene.”
Erik shifted, pausing uncomfortably. “I have never told this to anyone. As far as Arty is concerned, she simply took my virginity. But there was more. She… she scolded me for being a bad little boy, grabbed my ear, and pulled me into the bedroom. She sat on the bed and before I knew it, I was lying across those soft thighs being spanked on the bare bottom. She had an arm on her, too! I mean, it hurt! But not as much as the hairbrush she started using. I came again, all over those delicious thighs, and earned another punishment. She blackmailed me into putting on diapers.”
“Oh my…” Camille held her hands in front of her mouth, her eyes wide with astonishment and horror. “How could anyone be so awful?”
“I was so humiliated and ashamed. She made me crawl around on the floor like a baby, reducing me to tears with her scolding. She then sat on the floor and took a breast out, and called me to come lie in her arms so that I could suck on it. I have to admit, that was rather pleasant.”
“What happened next?”
“The predictable,” Erik sighed. “I got hard. But that was what she was hoping for. I spent the next six hours either having sex, being spanked, or in a diaper. And she would not let me use the bathroom either. The experience did, however, steer me in the direction of age-play and spanking. I wanted the submission and control to be different, though. More caring and nurturing, with purpose in mind other than to get my sexual needs met. And I knew that I wanted to be on the giving, not the receiving, end. You can understand now why I kept this a secret. If anyone ever found out…”
“Your secret is safe with me. I swear. I think she was a horrible, mean old lady. You were just a boy and that was wrong. Like when Jerry…” Camille froze mid-sentence. She felt Erik stiffen.
“What did that little bastard do, Camille?”
“Nothin’. He just insulted me all the time,” Camille said quickly, shrinking in his arms.
“You are lying to me.”
“Just forget I said anything. Please.”
“I will not. Tell me. Now. I am not playing games, young lady. I am dead serious about this.”
Erik’s tone took on a timbre that frightened her. Slowly, she spilled out how her costar had started to insult and demean her when she was only eleven. The young man was cute, popular, and made a habit of reminding her that she had no hope of getting a boyfriend because of her ugly face and skinny, tit-less body. She was ashamed of how she looked, his words reinforcing the ones she had heard from her mother ever since she could remember. In a desperate attempt to be accepted by the older boy, she fell victim to his lies and
catered to his every whim in a useless attempt to win his approval and maybe some respect.
Erik’s grip tightened on her as she explained how filthy and disgusting she felt when she found herself literally begging for his attention. He would have her do stupid things, like crawl on the floor and bark for him, scrub his filthy bathroom, and never look at him in the eye… anything he demanded, she did to gain some praise. Praise that never came. He never touched her either, not even a pat on the head, stating that she was too disgusting to even be in the same room with him. Time after time, he predictably laughed in her face, leaving her sobbing as he walked away. And, time after time, she kept doing what he wanted, hoping to one day gain his acceptance.
Camille felt Erik stroke her face, not realizing that shameful tears were flowing down her cheeks.
“I swear I will never allow anyone to hurt you again,” he promised, tucking her head under his chin. “And I promise that, one day, we will both get even with that fucking little bastard.”
“Daddy! No swearing! House rules,” Camille choked out, trying to change the subject. His intensity made her feel both uncomfortable and protected.
“I apologize, little one. My bad. But mark my words… his days are numbered. Consider him dead and buried.”
Camille settled into Erik’s arms with a nod. Her gut told her that Erik was not going to allow this insult to her honor and her dignity go unpunished. There was something sinister in his tone and a shiver traveled down her spine, making her very grateful that she was not on the receiving end of his revenge. However, try as she might, she felt no sympathy or concern for Jerry. He deserved everything he had coming to him.
Chapter Eleven
After tucking Camille into bed that night, Erik ventured back to the tower, contemplating the email he was going to send to Arthur. Decision made, he began…
A,
Many good things are happening here. Much more, in fact, that I could have ever hoped for. Because of that, I am asking you to reconsider the direction of this movie. I refuse to allow Cam to risk being ridiculed or harassed by a public that would not understand the lifestyle that she and I are exploring together. Instead of a docu-drama, I am asking you to progress with this adventure as a reflection of fiction. I know you are dying for information and I will tell you that, yes, she has broken through the ice and is discovering her little self naturally. She is also blossoming like a fragrant flower because of it. I am asking you to trust me… you will get your movie, but here is how I suggest it goes…
Erik wrote a brief outline of his idea, including the concern he had in the event that their communications might be intercepted or monitored. It led to the opportunity to bring up Jerry using a ‘code’ that he and Arthur had established years ago. The pink elephant would be used to caution the other when concern was raised about leaks in private matters. This was one such occasion that Erik used it… hoping that Arthur would grasp that ‘Tommy’ (played by Jerry) was Pippi’s neighbor in her series…
I am greatly disturbed by one thing. Camille has this giant pink elephant with a crooked trunk that she named Thomas. It concerns me greatly because, like all pink elephants, his presence is preventing her from facing the value of her life. She is too old, and too special, for silly toys like this. I know! You have told me that girls are never too old for stuffed animals, but she is a woman now and it is keeping her from seeing the truth about herself. Please help me find a way to throw it out without hurting her. I will talk to you in a few days. E
* * *
It took another week for Erik to again coax a stated age from Camille. She fluctuated between four and five, but sometime regressed to an older toddler of three. Since she started to call him Daddy, her transitions into the age-play became less difficult, and she could fully immerse herself within her little in less than an hour. She folded under his nurturing caresses during bath time, closing her eyes as he gently washed her body, trusting him not to touch her intimately without her invitation. Every afternoon, they stretched next to each other in his big bed during nap time, where she curled like a kitten against his body and warmed his heart as she released a contented sigh before she drifted off into a peaceful repose. Mealtimes became a favorite activity of both as he taught her the basics of the kitchen and allowed her ‘big’ to learn how to cook. Bedtime alternated between her reading poetry to him and Erik reading her favorite story, Pout-Pout Fish, to her. He loved the giggles that arose as he used different voices and then smothered her with little ‘fish kisses’ at the end. He also noticed that she began to easily follow his lead, joining him eagerly as he sat down on the floor with her toys or took out a coloring book and crayons. Every activity was met with enthusiasm and delight, and Camille began to make up little songs to sing to herself as she played by his side.
Erik did not realize how incredibly happy she made him until their third Sunday together rolled around. He had barely opened his eyes when he was rudely awakened by a face full of snow. After dropping a loosely packed snowball on his head, Camille ran screeching to the doorway. He sat up quickly, only to have a second ball thrown at him. Camille then shrieked with laughter, racing out of his room as fast as her legs could carry her. Erik growled, brushing off the ice crystals as he looked at his clock. It was 10:02. The brat managed to wait long enough so he couldn’t bust her for breaking house rules!
“I’ll get you, my pretty,” he snickered, doing his best Wicked Witch imitation. He dressed quickly and then ventured out to look for her, pausing to listen for the sounds of her running along the bridges or a slip of a high-pitched giggle from her hiding place. She was quiet. Too quiet. That only meant one thing…
“You are in so much trouble, young lady,” Erik scolded as he flung open the outside door. He ducked as another snowball flew by, but not fast enough to avoid the one that followed in succession. She was prepared for the battle and heaved her pile of balls at him nonstop until he retreated back into the house, wet and cold. He snatched his coat from the closet and snuck around the east side, slipping out the kitchen door. He could see the shock of red hair bobbing behind the snowdrift as she waited to assault him. With a grin, he silently scooped up an armful of the icy treasure and snuck behind her. His foot stepped on a twig and Camille turned, not wasting a second before she bombarded him with her ammunition. He growled, fighting past the white bombs as he approached her fort. He dove at her, catching her around the middle and tackling her to the wet, icy ground.
“Throw snowballs at me, will you?” he asked, pinning her down as he straddled her waist.
“I’m sorry!” Camille laughed uncontrollably. “No! Eeek!” She squealed loudly as he picked up a handful of snow and promptly stuck it down her shirt. Camille wasted no time in returning the gesture, taking the opportunity to squirm out from under him as he emptied his back of the icy confection. He ran after her, ducking the occasional ball thrown carelessly in his direction. Once again, he tackled her to the ground, rolling with her in his arms down a slight slope.
Pinned under him a second time, Camille panted heavily, her face red with exertion and cold. But her eyes… They were bright and smiling. This was the happiest he had seen her since they had met, and it touched his heart so deeply that he could not ignore the feeling that surged inside of him. He could not put a name to it… Obsession, possessiveness, protection… Whatever it was, it made him desire one thing. To kiss her deeply and passionately.
“Open your mouth. Let me inside to taste you,” he whispered huskily as he lowered his mouth to hers. Like a bud opening its petals to the morning sun, Camille parted her lips and allowed him access. She groaned as his teeth nibbled and sucked at her lower lip, urging her to open her mouth wider. His tongue probed gently against the softness of her mouth, flicking her tongue with his own, teasing her to follow his lead. Camille reached around his neck to urge him closer to her, her own kiss becoming more fervent as she submitted to him. Another moan was heard… His own. He released her soft mouth to trace the gentle
arch of her throat, nipping and sucking until he found her ‘sweet’ spot just below her right earlobe…
Camille’s gasp of pleasure accompanied the arching of her body toward him, straining her breasts against the down jacket. Her breath, visible in the cold morning air, was short and rapid as her chest heaved with desire, pressing into him. Slowly, Erik reached behind her head as he again met her mouth with his.
“I am falling in love with you, Cami. I can’t stop myself,” he murmured into her ear. “Don’t refuse me, baby. Please. Let me fall in love.”
Camille wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and rested her head on his shoulder. Her warm breath tickled his ear before she kissed the soft, tender skin just behind his jawline.
“Love scares me. I… I don’t know how to love or how to be loved,” she admitted, drawing strength from the encompassment of his arms.
“I will teach you. If you will let me,” he added hoarsely. His cock ached as it pressed solidly against his wet jeans. If it were not for the cold dampness, he knew that he would be in serious trouble with his wayward organ.
“I need… Need more time. This is happening too fast and… And…”
“You still are struggling with trust. I understand, baby, I really do. We will take as much time as you need. Except for this,” he tugged the ponytail that hung limply down her back, sensing her need to change the subject. “This mess needs to get dry before you end up catching a chill. And then you and I are going to have a little talk about the proper, respectful ways to wake Daddy in the morning.”
Camille grinned, pulling back to look into his face, clearly realizing that he was not angry. She blinked innocently and, spontaneously, stuck her thumb in her mouth.
“Cute is not going to work with me. Not ever. Okay, sometimes… But not today!” he scolded lightly, standing her to brush the snow off her clothing. “Let’s get inside. I’m freezing.”
Playing a Little Page 10
