Daddy Institute (Dark Age Play Romance) (My Little World Book 7)

by Becca Little

  “Did you like breakfast?” He folded his hands on his lap after he took a seat in the chair across from the couch.

  “I did.” I nodded and smiled.

  “Good, I wanted your last meal to be one you would remember.” His words were so nonchalant that it took me a second to pick up on what he said.

  “My last meal? What does that mean?” I blinked a couple of times in confusion.

  “Today you begin your life as my Little Bianca. From this point forward, you will receive all your meals from a bottle. The first stage of this rehabilitation is regression. I am going to take you upstairs, bathe you, shave you, give you an enema, and put you in a diaper. Every night before bed, the diaper will be removed, and you will be given a bedtime spanking.” He continued speaking as if what he was describing was quite normal.

  “That doesn’t sound anything like what I signed up for at the Bradford Institute!” My tone was worried and hurried.

  “This is the core philosophy that the Bradford Institute was based on. Obviously, we had to tone down some of our methods, but since you’ll be spending the next year with me, I think you’ll benefit from a stricter regiment.” He unfolded his hands and leaned forward. “Are you ready to get started?”

  “Do I have much of a choice?” I asked, swallowing a lump in my throat.

  “There’s always prison.” He shrugged. “If you’d prefer, I can arrange that for you instead.”

  “No.” I shook my head back and forth. “I’m ready to get started.”

  We walked back upstairs to my room. I felt nervous thinking about all the things he said. He started removing my dress and I realized he was going to see me completely naked. Considering the other things, we discussed, that seemed like the least of my worries. The dress was deposited on the floor and he took me into the bathroom. I sat on the edge of the tub as he started my bath. I saw him drizzle several things into the water as it rose. He rolled the sleeves on his shirt up and I was quite surprised to see how large his muscles were. It was clear that he found some time to hit the gym when he wasn’t planning global domination from his office chair. When the tub was full, he helped me into the water. I sank beneath the suds and let out a sigh as the warmth enveloped me.

  “Let’s get you cleaned up.” His smile was genuine and caring as he picked up a sponge.

  “Okay, Daddy.” I responded with a smile of my own, trying to embrace what was in front of me.

  He soaked the sponge in the water and then started moving it across my shoulders. It felt nice to be bathed, even when he washed my left shoulder that was still hurting from guard’s grip. He carefully moved around the worst of it and then started washing my arms. I raised them up so he could wash my armpits and then the sponge moved to my breasts. My nipples got hard from being touched, even if it was only a sponge. When he started moving the sponge down my stomach I got a little nervous. He started washing my legs first, rubbing the sponge down the exterior before he started to wash my inner thighs. I feared how my body would react, but after he had cleaned everything else, I knew my pussy was next.

  “If you become uncomfortable, let me know.” He slid the sponge between my legs and started to guide it across my labia.

  There was nothing uncomfortable about his touch. The pressure of the sponge was enough to make me tingle. It had been a long time since I had pleasured myself, even before I went to the Bradford Institute. When he moved the sponge up to my clitoris, I had to squeeze the tub and clench my jaw. Once he was finished, I felt like he had made me even dirtier than I was before he started because I could feel a wetness in my vaginal cavity. I tried to ignore it as he positioned himself behind me and started to pour water into my hair with a small cup. He soaked my hair, and then started to massage shampoo into my scalp. It had to be one of the most amazing feeling ever. It was almost more orgasmic than the feeling of the sponge between my legs.

  “If this is your idea of a punishment, I think you’re failing…” I sighed as his finger found a rather sensitive spot at the bottom of my hairline.

  “Not all of the rehabilitation process is about punishment. You are being reborn and given a second chance. That is really where we failed with the Bradford Institute. The programs should have been designed by a professional rather than leaving them to the whim of the assigned Daddies.” He continued massaging my scalp, applying a little more pressure.

  “So, you had no idea what kind of stuff was actually going on there?” I leaned back so he could massage the front of my scalp.

  “I trusted my cousin to run it the way my grandfather would have ran it. I should have been paying closer attention.” He finished massaging my scalp and walked over to the front of the tub where he pulled the plug to drain the soapy water.

  Daddy seemed very genuine about his passion for the Bradford Institute. He was always so busy at work, I doubted he could have kept up with how it was being run. If the things I saw were any indication, sexual relationships had become the norm rather than the exception. I was just thankful to be out of there. When the water was drained, he turned on the shower and ran the water over me, letting it rinse away all the soap. I felt cleaner than I had been in a long time. My scalp was still tingling from the feeling of his nails on it and the area on my back I couldn’t easily reach felt like it had been scrubbed. He picked up a straight razor and shaving cream from beside the sink before sitting back down on the edge of the tub.

  “You need to hold very still while I do this. Let’s start with your armpits.” He squeezed some shaving cream into his hand.

  The straight razor looked scary as he moved it close to my flesh. I tried to remain as still as possible to avoid getting cut. I had seen too many horror movies with them used as weapons that I had to cringe when it moved across my skin. It only took him two swipes and a quick rotation to completely shave the hair under my arm. I lowered it and he handled the next one in the same fashion. He picked up my leg and rested it on the side of the tub as he lathered it up. His powerful hands massaged my calves and thighs. He might as well have been a trained masseuse with the magic he showcased in his touch. The razor moved across my legs quickly. He would swipe, rinse his blade in the water from the bathtub faucet, and swipe again.

  “You’re really good at this.” I felt the nervousness I had about the blade begin to fade away.

  “I’ve had many years of training on my own neck.” He smiled. “You only have to cut yourself with thing one time to figure out how to make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

  He moved over to my other leg and started massaging it with the lather. When he was done shaving it, I saw him begin to lather up his hand again. I had nothing left to shave—except… I realized he intended to shave my pussy. I stared at his hand as he lathered it up and then he pushed my legs apart. I felt a little humiliation at being exposed like that, spread wide for him to have a clear view of my pussy. There was no way for me to completely keep it out of his vision while he was shaving my legs, but having all his attention on it made me blush. He leaned down and started rubbing the later around the edge and I had to grip the edge of the bathtub.

  “Don’t feel bad if you become aroused.” His voice was soothing and calming. “You’re going to be here for a year and I don’t expect you to ignore your desires the whole time.”

  “How does that work exactly?” I closed my eyes when the razor got closer.

  “You’ll get rewarded for good behavior, just like you will get punished for bad behavior. If you’re good, I’ll let you take a private bath or give you some alone time in your room where I agree not to come upstairs and check on you. If you only touch yourself when you have permission, you’ll get the opportunity.”

  He made one final swipe with the blade and then started the shower again, holding the extended shower head against the wall as he checked the temperature. It was strange casually discussing masturbation with a man I hardly knew, but I was happy to hear there would be an opportunity to handle the tingle that only intensified w
hen the warm water washed away the remnants of shaving cream between my legs. The water jets teased my clitoris as he rinsed me off and I felt even more turned on by the time he was done. When he took me from the tub and started drying me with a towel, the only thing I could really think about was what would have happened if the water jets remained between my legs just a little bit longer.

  “Okay, let’s dry your hair.” He picked up a blow dryer and turned it on.

  The comb and large wooden hairbrush he worked through my tangled locks as the hairdryer blew them around were fancier than anything I had ever owned. The comb looked to be made from some sort of bone or animal shell, and the hairbrush was made of thick, heavy wood. When he was done with my hair, it was fully combed out and straight. He parted it in the middle and pulled half of it to one side of my head, forming a pigtail. He wrapped a hair band around it and then did the same to the other side. I looked strange with pigtails. He finished the ensemble with a pink ribbon that he wrapped around each hair band and formed a fluffy bow.

  “You’re very pretty.” He kissed the side of my head. “I never really noticed you when you were around the office.”

  “There are a lot of pretty girls at the office.” I looked over at him. “Your hiring team is three men…”

  “I never thought about that.” He chuckled and reached under the sink. “Have you ever had an enema before?”

  “No.” I stared at it as he laid it on the counter.

  “I have to go get some supplies. I’ll be right back.” He walked out of the bathroom and I could hear his footsteps as they echoed across my room and down the hall.

  Once he was gone, I picked up the enema bag and held the nozzle in my hand. I understood the basics of the enema. The nozzle would be inserted into my anus and the bag would be used to put something inside of me. I held up the nozzle and looked at it. It was bigger than my thumb and about four inches in length. I was a little terrified of having it inside my anus. The largest thing that had ever went in it was a rectal thermometer once when I was a child. Before I could get too engrossed in my thoughts, I heard his footsteps returning so I put the nozzle down and waited. He walked back into the bathroom carrying several packets of powder and a bottle of purified water.

  “What is all of this?” I asked as he started mixing it into a bowl with a spout for pouring.

  “Enemas can be used to cleanse or to punish. Since this is your first one, it is a basic cleansing one. It’ll also give you practice holding them.” He stirred the mixture quickly and I saw it start to foam.

  “Holding them? How long do I have to hold them?” I felt my stomach tense up.

  “This one will be thirty minutes.” He picked up the bag. “It’ll cause some cramping, but it shouldn’t be too bad. I will warn you though, if you don’t hold this for thirty minutes, I will blister your bottom and give you one that is designed for punishment, along with a butt plug to make sure it stays in.”

  “I’ll hold it…” I nodded furiously.

  He took me back to the tub and placed the towel he had used to dry my off on the bottom. I climbed inside and positioned myself on all fours. He guided me into a position where my bottom was straight in the air and my chin was touching the towel. I thought being exposed for him to shave me was humiliating, but the position I had to get into for the enema was a lot more degrading to my moral compass. I started to wonder if that was part of the rehabilitation. After I was in position, I felt his finger against my anus and then something wet was rubbed across it. I assumed it was some sort of lubrication when the nozzle from the enema easily slid into my anus. I barely had time to adjust to it stretching me before I felt the warm liquid start to flow inside me.

  “Once this is inside, I will set a timer. You’re free to move around the bathroom all that you want, but do not release it until the timer goes off and I return.” He moved the bag and the flow got stronger. “Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Daddy.” I grimaced when I felt the first cramp in my lower abdomen.

  When the bag was drained, he slowly removed the nozzle and put the bag on the counter. He set a timer and left the bathroom. I squeezed my anus as tight as I could while climbing out of the bathtub. The second my feet hit the floor, I felt my entire lower abdomen cramping. It sounded like someone had shaking up a soda and opened it inside of me. The pressure got stronger each moment it passed. I saw foam on the edge of the bowl he had used to mix the enema, and I imagined that was exactly what was happening inside. It was fizzing and expanding, creating more pressure as I moved. I looked at the toilet and I had to close my eyes and force the desire not to release the enema to overwhelm me.

  “No…” I shook my head. “Just hold it…hold it.”

  I clenched my anus for what felt like an eternity and then opened my eyes. Only three minutes had been shaved off the timer. The mixture seemed to get stronger with each passing second. My abdomen hurt and cramped. I had no idea what it was doing, but if it was just a training enema to get me used to what a real one would feel like, I didn’t want to even know what kind of horror one of those would bring. I sat on the edge of the tub, just holding my stomach and trying to find a moment of peace. The less I moved, the less it seemed to hurt. That was at least a small breakthrough. I stared at the clock with each passing second, just trying to force myself to last a little longer. After fifteen minutes had passed, I thought I was going to die before it was over.

  “No… God no…” I cried as my body spasmed and some of the foamy liquid ran down the edge of the tub.

  I quickly grabbed the towel started cleaning it, but the movement made what was left inside of me start to create stronger spasms. I held onto the edge of the tub and collapsed against it. There was no holding back. I had failed. The contents of the enema emptied into the tub and I started to shake as tears ran down my face. There was an immediate sense of relief, but the horror in my head quickly replaced that relief. I sat there staring at the timer with my body tense and shaking with fear. I knew I was going to be punished and after he was done spanking me, I was going to get an enema that was even worse—one that was held in with a plug. His footsteps echoed up the stairs and I stared at the floor, feeling like I was waiting on my execution.

  Chapter 16 — Sloane

  I had no idea what I would walk into when I returned. I hoped Bianca would have the self-control to hold her first enema, but I wasn’t entirely sure she had that much willpower. My threat was very real, but I hoped it wouldn’t be necessary. If she wasn’t successful, she would have to be punished and the next enema would have to be even more severe, but if she was successful, I intended to give her some time to herself as a reward. I could see she was turned on while I cleaned and shaved her. Those urges would have to be tended to over the course of the year, but they needed to be done in a controlled environment. The second I saw her sitting on the edge of the tub crying, I knew she had failed at her task.

  “Okay, Bianca.” I shook my head back and forth as I sighed. “You know what this means.”

  “Yes sir.” She lifted her head and looked at me.

  “Come with me.” I extended my hand and she reached up to take it.

  I picked up the thick wooden hairbrush from the counter before we walked back into her bedroom. I took her to the edge of the bed and sat down. She didn’t fight as I pulled her down across my knee. I shifted to the side so I could elevate her bottom slightly higher than the bed, while allowing her upper torso to lay flat across the mattress. She trembled as she was put into position and I knew she was nervous, but I couldn’t spare her punishment when it was promised for failure. Her inability to hold the enema meant her self-control issues were even worse than I imagined, but we would work through the over the course of the year. The task at hand was a bare bottom spanking with the thick wooden hairbrush, followed by a punishment enema.

  “Do you understand why you’re being punished?” I patted her bottom with the hairbrush.

  “Yes sir…” Her words were foll
owed by a sniffle.

  “Tell me.” Being able to verbalize and accept what she had earned was important to me.

  “Because I didn’t hold the enema.” She replied with another sniffle.

  “That’s not quite it.” I pulled the hairbrush away. “This was a lesson in self-control. Self-control is important in all facets of your life. A lack of self-control is what led you to steal from the company. A lack of self-control is what allowed you to rationalize it in your head and put your wants above the security and safety of the company and all of our employees.”

  “I never thought about it like that…” She replied in a tone that suggested she was pondering my words.

  “So, tell me why you are going to be punished.” I moved the hairbrush back to her bottom and patted it again.

  “Because I lack self-control.” I could hear her swallow a lump in her throat as she said it.

  “Bring your palms together behind your neck, and then lock your fingers.” I paused and waited for her to comply. She was slow, but she did as I asked. “For the entirety of this spanking, you will demonstrate self-control by keeping your fingers locked in this position. If your hands move out of position, you will be spanked harder, faster, and stay across my knee for a very long time. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Daddy.” I heard her sniffle again.

  I lifted the hairbrush and brought it down on the right side of her bottom. It wasn’t extremely hard, but it was enough to be felt. I raised it up and brought it down on the other side, with a little more force. The sound of it cracking against her bare flesh rang through the room. I tried to keep a similar pace, pausing briefly between each smack to let the sting sink in before I landed another one. She was already squirming after she had received a few on each side of her bottom, but her hands remained in position. The hairbrush had an oval shape and it was longer than it was wide. I placed my smacks on the upper and lower portion of her bottom, creating four distinct spots with the ones on each side of her bottom slightly overlapping in the center.