by Becca Little
DADDY INSTITUTE
BECCA LITTLE
[email protected]
Copyright © AUGUST 2017 by Becca Little
First E-book Publication: AUGUST 2017
Cover created by: Domestic Discipline Publishing
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: The unauthorized reproduction, transmission, or distribution of any part of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.
This literary work is fiction. Any name, places, characters and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or establishments is solely coincidental.
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Each of the My Little World stories are standalone and you do not need to read the previous books to enjoy the current story.
BIANCA:
It was a stupid mistake. I thought I could have an early retirement by helping myself to a few unattended Bradford International accounts. Sure, it was embezzlement, but I thought it was safe. I didn’t think anyone would notice the missing pennies that barely put a dent in their billion-dollar profits.
But someone did and I got caught.
My choice was five years in prison or one year in the Daddy Institute where I would be assigned a Daddy to rehabilitate me for my crimes…
I didn’t really have a choice, did I?
SLOANE:
After an incident at one of our foreign offices, I called for a routine security check at every location. I didn’t expect to find anything except confirmation of our iron-clad security.
Imagine my surprise when a beautiful young woman we recently promoted turned out to be nothing more than a common thief embezzling money from the company.
I couldn’t afford to have another security breach spread across the headlines. I offered her the choice of serving her time in prison or spending a year at the Daddy Institute. She chose wisely, but there was one thing she didn’t know…
I was going to be her assigned Daddy and ensure she paid for her mistakes.
Becca’s Note: This is a 55,000-word full length novel. It contains elements of age play, spankings, and sizzling romance. If you can’t handle the heat, don’t click the button. If you do, welcome to My Little World.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Epilogue
Bonus Content
Chapter 1 — Bianca
I minimized the window I was working in when people walked by my cubicle because I knew they couldn’t keep their nosy eyes off my computer screen. When they were out of sight, I switched from the window containing the work I was supposed to be doing to the window I had been working in most of the morning. I started changing lines of code, looking for a spot where the program I created could run undetected. Each time I changed a line of code, I ran a simulation to predict how long my program could run without being found. I didn’t want to put something that had taken me weeks to perfect somewhere it could only run for a couple of days. The program was my retirement plan, so it needed to run for a few years, shaving profits off the company without being found. It seemed like the only option I had to ever make some actual money at the company.
“Hey, Bianca. Do you have that spreadsheet I asked for?” My heart nearly jumped out of my chest when my supervisor, Mr. Pearson, leaned over the edge of my cubicle wall.
“Yes sir.” I quickly closed the window and looked up at him with a smile. “I was actually dropping it in the share drive when you walked up.”
“Good.” He sipped coffee from his cup. “I’ll look it over and make sure it meets my expectations.”
When Mr. Pearson walked away, I hurriedly opened the share drive and moved the spreadsheet into it. It wasn’t my best work, but it would give them the data they asked for. I didn’t give a damn if it met his expectations. I stood and confirmed he was back at his desk before starting back on my original task. I moved through lines of code until my eyes were hurting, and then I found exactly what I was looking for. There was a program in a terminated employee’s share drive that linked up to several other files. It was nothing more than a data scraper, but it still worked, so nobody even thought about replacing it. It ran every day, but nobody had touched it or changed in code in almost two years. I hid my program in the folder, put a command in the code of the data scraper to run it every day, and shut down my computer.
“Did it work?” I stepped out into the street and was immediately joined by my childhood friend, Rebecca.
“Yeah, it did. I ran the simulation and it should be able to run for a couple of years without being detected.” I smiled. “Unless the company does a major upgrade or something, but I’ll remove it if that happens.”
“When do we get paid.” She nudged me with her elbow. “We need to pay the rent.”
“I can pay the rent with my salary—well, correction. I can pay my half of the rent.” I held my palm out and tapped it, indicating she needed to contribute.
“I’m a musician.” She rolled her eyes and looked up at the sky. “I can’t sell my soul for a corporate job.”
“If you don’t find work soon, you’re going to be a starving musician. The program is my retirement plan. I don’t intend to live off it every month.” I pointed towards a diner on the corner. “Let’s grab some dinner before we go home.”
“Are you buying?” She reached into her pockets and pouted when she pulled out the empty lining.
“Of course, I’m buying.” I sighed and shook my head. “Why should you pay for anything?”
“Thank you, Bianca!” She walked in front of me and darted across the street before we even reached the crosswalk.
Rebecca was more like my sister than my friend. We had known each other since we were kids and our families were very close. She was brilliant and funny, but she didn’t use a bit of it to her advantage. She preferred to spend her evenings in the bars, strumming her guitar for donations, instead of using her education to get a decent job. I was the responsible one. I went to college, graduated top of my class—right next to Rebecca, and landed a job at Bradford International where I did my internship. My official title was data analyst, but that just meant I compiled data into spreadsheets for people in upper management to analyze. I spent the first year adding my thoughts to each set of data I sent, but I never got a response unless there was an error in something I put together for them. The rest of the time I was ignored.
“I’ll have a cheeseburger with a side of fries.” Rebecca closed the menu and looked up at our waitress. “Oh, and I also want some apple pie for desert.”
“I’ll have a Cesar Salad.” I closed the menu an
d handed it to the waitress. “No croutons though.”
“Right away.” The waitress was an older woman with red hair but it hadn’t been dyed recently enough to cover up her roots.
“You need to eat some real food.” Rebecca pulled her soda over and wrapped her lips around the straw.
“Apparently I don’t have your metabolism.” I shrugged and stirred some artificial sweetener into my glass of iced tea.
“You know guys like girls with a little meat on their bones, right?” Rebecca grinned when she pulled the straw out of her mouth. “You’re too skinny.”
“So, what you’re telling me is that if I eat cheeseburgers and fries, I’ll find a husband?” I narrowed my eyes at her. “Because that’s working really well for you.”
“I need someone with a poet’s soul, a good singing voice, and a job.” She shook her head back and forth. “All the guys I meet are losers who live at home with their parents or leech off their friends.”
“Like you?” I teased her by drawing a box in the air around her face.
“Don’t be mean. We have a gig next week and it pays. I should be able to give you some money after that.” She nodded and sipped her soda again.
I gave Rebecca a hard time, but I really did respect her tenacity for gambling with her future in hopes of making it big as a musician. She was smart enough to know the chances of making serious money or turning it into a career were small, but she was happy doing it. I had bigger dreams, and although I was smart enough to know I was taking a big risk, I felt like I had taken enough precautions to shift the odds in my favor. The only stories that made the news were the people that got caught. For everyone person that did get caught, there were many people who never did. My plan was to steal money from Bradford International for a couple of years, and then move overseas, living out my life in a cheap villa somewhere my money would last. I could pick up a little work here and there as a freelancer, and live off the grid for the most part. It was a good plan.
Chapter 2 — Sloane
I adjusted my tie in the mirror as I prepared to walk into the boardroom and address my legion of adoring fans—well, technically they were my employees. I could already visualize the meeting in my head. Tina would sit up and lean forward so I could see her tits against her shirt, with just enough cleavage to try and make me want to see more. John would act casual, but his eyes would be on Tina’s tits. Gary would only care about the profits and he would try to get started before everyone was ready to begin. Everyone would scramble to catch up. Alice would stare at her paperwork like she was paying close attention, but she would be thinking about her divorce and how much money her cuckold husband was going to take her for when his lawyers figured out how many guys she was fucking on the side. Those were the flavors of the week.
“Good morning everyone!” I walked into the boardroom and held my hands up the way I always did. My brand was excitement and motivation.
“Good morning, Mr. Bradford.” Tina smiled sheepishly and leaned forward, pushing her chest out so far, I heard her back crack.
“Morning boss…” John gave me half a smile and then pretended to scratch his eyebrow as he let his eyes shift towards Tina’s chest.
“Morning…” Alice chewed on the end of her pen and looked down at her paper.
“I’ve got the PowerPoint loaded.” Gary hit the button on the remote to bring the screen to life. “Let’s look over the quarterly results.”
I sat down in my chair and stared at the screen as Gary flipped to the first slide. It was filled with numbers, data, and various metrics. Alice looked up at it, and then back down at her paper. Tina had to let a drawn breath out and her tits shrank into her chest as she turned her chair towards the screen, flipping to her notes. John took a moment to watch Tina, but once she was looking at the screen he flipped through his papers to find the relevant data. I had studied the slides when Gary emailed them to me the previous day, so I knew exactly what the charts were going to tell me. I waited until he got to the third slide before I finally asked a question.
“Tina, what is going on with the London sales office? They haven’t hit their targets in two months.” I leaned back and watched as she furiously flipped through her paperwork.
“I’ve been asking them the same question…” She finally found the page she was looking for as her words stalled the conversation. “There’s a local law that has hindered some of our advertising.”
“Can’t we get it changed?” I tapped my fingers on the table. “Who do we have to throw money at?”
“I’m working on that. I’ll have an update for you soon.” She sank into her chair and started making notes. She stopped caring about her tits and she tried to focus on work.
“Next slide.” I looked over at Gary who nodded.
“This is the French market.” Gary flipped the slide and introduced it as if everyone couldn’t read the words at the top of the slide.
“That’s your office too, Tina. Once again, they aren’t hitting their targets.” I drummed the table again.
“Yes, that is a different issue…” She flipped a few pages over and ran her pen down a chart that wasn’t on the slide. “It’s a pricing problem. There’s a competitor there offering similar products and we had to lower the price to compete.”
“People…” I let out a sigh and drew the attention of the room towards me. “We offer premium products. We aren’t the generic off-brand shit you find at Wal-Mart and Target. People should expect to pay a premium for our products. The Bradford name stands for excellence. It doesn’t matter if we put it on a washing machine or an airplane. They should know it stands for the best.”
“I know.” Tina shook her head. “I’ll get with them this afternoon and make the adjustments.”
Despite the way I challenged them, business was actually pretty good. We set targets that were difficult and only obtainable by superstars. I always gave them a hard time when they didn’t meet their targets, but I had the best team in the world assembled at Bradford International. The kids downstairs running reports for us were top of their class in college. Other companies would have brought them and rushed them straight into management, but I wanted to develop my employees before I ever trusted them to run a team or a department. I had promoted all of them from within, and with that kind of commitment, I built loyalty. Anything less was unacceptable.
When the meeting was finally done, Tina had given up her dreams of convincing me to finally ask her out after ten years of working at the company—until the next meeting of course. John’s shirt was soaked with seat, especially under his armpits. He tried to make small talk with Tina, but she only responded with quick one-word answers. Alice was the first to leave, already pressing buttons on her phone to dial her lawyer before anyone else left the table. Gary was cool as a cucumber, reviewing the slides again and logging all his notes about the follow-up information I asked for so he could make sure there were answers available when the next meeting finally came.
“Mr. Sloane.” Gary held up his hand when the rest of the group was gone.
“Yes?” I leaned against the table and looked over at him.
“I got a call from one of our lawyers yesterday. They asked again if we wanted to consider adding the Bradford Institute to Bradford International.” He picked up a piece of paper that had a graph on it. “The preliminary data indicates we could make good money if we took it into the private sector.”
“Is that so.” I let out a sigh. “So, we take a charity that my family built and turn it into a business? It won’t be a rehabilitation center anymore, it’ll be a damn private prison. We’ve been over this already.”
“I know, but my job is to point out good business ventures. Private prisons make a lot of money. We could find another charity that would be happy to take our tax write-offs.” He shrugged and pushed the graph over.
“It’s not up for discussion.” I shook my head and walked out of the room.
Chapter 3 — Bianca
I sat nervously at my desk, day after day, until a full week had passed. As much as I wanted to check the program daily, I didn’t want to leave any digital footprints showing my login constantly visiting the folder. I loaded up the bank account I had created for the program to dump money into and smiled when I saw five thousand dollars in my account. It had worked perfectly. Five thousand dollars wouldn’t be missed by a major corporation like Bradford International unless they were looking for it. The plan was to monitor it for a few months to make sure it was working right, and then ramp it up a little bit. I wanted to bank at least five hundred thousand before I left the country. After that, it could run until they eventually found it, but I would be somewhere with no extradition treaty by then. I walked out to the street on my lunch break and Rebecca came running up to me with a smile on her face.
“So, how much money did we make?” She hopped in place like an excited schoolgirl.
“Five thousand.” I smiled. “It worked.”
“That isn’t very much money.” She looked at the ground in disappointment. “I thought we were going to be millionaires.”
“Once I’m out of the country, I’ll set you up good, as long as it keeps running. Right now, I’m taking all the risk, so I have to be careful.” I looked over my shoulder as some coworkers walked outside.
“Okay… I could use a new guitar though.” Rebecca smiled.
“Let’s go to the diner. I don’t feel comfortable talking in the street.” I started walking down the street, away from my coworkers that were gathered outside discussing their options for lunch.
We ate our lunch quickly and Rebecca gushed about all the things she thought she needed. Apparently, she was going to just die if she didn’t get a new guitar, and her cell phone needed to be replaced. None of that seemed to be an issue before she knew I had five thousand dollars in a bank account I didn’t plan to touch. It was impossible for me to even consider asking her for rent at that point. I went back to work once we were done and she went off to spend the rest of the afternoon rehearsing with her band. I felt nervous as I sat in the office, just thinking about all the trouble I could get into if someone found out about the program. I didn’t realize being a criminal would cause so much anxiety. There was a part of me that just wanted to pull the plug on it immediately to get some relief for my frayed nerves.
