by Becca Little
“Ow…” She whimpered as a particularly hard smack landed.
I picked up the pace as the center of her bottom got pinker. Even though she had been good during the day with Ms. Veronica, the spanking still had to be a very real one that left her bottom red and sore. Her rehabilitation came before anything else, even the pleasure I promised she could have when it was done. She started to squirm more and her feet shifted uncomfortably as the stinging smacks were delivered in a quick, consistent motion. I kept the pattern the same during the first part of her spanking, landing one on each side of her bottom and quickly repeating it before she had a chance to adjust. I monitored her reactions carefully, finding the sweet spot where it wasn’t hard enough to truly harm her, but firm enough to make sure each one left her bottom stinging worse than the one before it. Based on my interactions with her so far, I knew it wouldn’t be long until her bottom was burning and she was on the verge of tears.
“I’m sorry for what I did…” She squealed and clutched the bedspread. “I promise I’ll do better when I’m done with my rehabilitation!”
I was pleased to hear her connecting the spanking with her crime and the rehabilitation she was supposed to be getting because of it. I felt a twinge of anger building as I thought about the Bradford Institute again and all the young women who were promised that very same gift only to trade their bodies for pleasure instead. I wished I had the time and energy to create one that truly mirrored my grandfather’s dream. I heard Bianca’s squeals start to intensity as her bottom turned red. The slight sound of a sob in her throat caused me to look over and saw a few tears on her cheeks. I spanked her harder and faster one I saw them, ready to bring it to a conclusion. Her feet kicked rapidly as the final phase of her bedtime spanking was delivered. Once she had suffered long enough for me to feel like the lesson was learned, I slowed the pace and after delivering a few extra-firm ones, I let my hand rest on her bottom.
“I think that is enough for one night.” I helped her off my knee and hugged her tight.
“Thank you for everything you’ve done for me.” She rested her head on my shoulder. “You’re the best Daddy I could have ever hoped for.”
“You’re doing a great job with your rehabilitation.” I pressed my lips to the side of her head and kissed her lightly.
She stayed in my arms until her tears were gone and I went to the other room and picked up the timer. I couldn’t help getting a little excited at the thought of her pleasuring herself, but I had to keep my composure. It was an important part of the rehabilitation. I brought the timer back and set it for thirty minutes, but I didn’t hit start. I placed it beside the bed and sat down next to her. She had knelt on the bed so that her bottom wasn’t touching it, instead suspended in the air by her feet. She looked over at the timer and bit down on her lip for a moment before looking at me again. She seemed a bit nervous and I understood that it was probably strange for her to be given permission to touch herself and a set time to do it. I hoped she would be able to enjoy it.
“You’re only allowed to use your fingers.” I took her hand. “When I return, I expect to find you spread eagle on the bed with your hands on your stomach. I will clean you up and then put on a fresh diaper. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Daddy.” She nodded.
I adjusted my pants as I stood, feeling my cock starting to get hard as I imagined her ecstasy. My finger hit the timer before I walked away from her bed. I looked back at her one last time and smiled before leaving the room and locking the door. As soon as it was closed, I could hear her shifting on the bed. I would have loved to stay there and listen, but my cock was already begging for attention and I didn’t want to give it any reason to regret not taking Ginnifer up on her offer of a casual encounter. I knew I wouldn’t be able to just sit downstairs and wait patiently for the timer to end. The thoughts of Bianca were going to be too strong for that.
Chapter 21 — Bianca
I felt a little guilty as I lay back on the bed and adjusted myself until my bottom wasn’t hurting. Daddy had offered me a tremendous reward for good behavior and I hadn’t exactly been good. Ms. Veronica had let me do pretty much anything I wanted during the day and based on the way he reacted when he came home, it seemed that she kept all of it to herself. As much as I wanted to punish myself and not enjoy the reward, I couldn’t stop the fire in my pussy from engulfing all those thoughts, setting them ablaze with a desire for sexual relief. I spread my legs wide and moved my hand down to my wetness. I rubbed the exterior of my vaginal cavity, pushing in slightly to feel the resistance of my hymen before moving my index finger to my clitoris.
“Oh wow…” My head spun when I touched it, feeling the pleasure sweep through my body.
I tended to my sexual needs when they arose at home and I had never gone very long without doing so. Even with Rebecca in the room next to me, I was quiet enough to handle it without her knowing. I assumed she was doing the same when she didn’t have a boyfriend to take care of things for her. My finger teased my clitoris and I was immediately squirming. The motion caused my bottom to rub against the bed and sting, but the pleasure was overwhelming it. I started moving through my thoughts, trying to find the right person to imagine between my legs. The more my pleasure intensified, every face became the same—Daddy. I couldn’t force that thought out of my head. After hearing how Ms. Veronica’s relationship developed and the way he handled her time as Little Roni, my mind was firmly focused on having the same thing from Sloane Bradford. It was a secret I would have to keep, and the fantasy was a safe alternative.
“Daddy…” I whispered softly to myself through a shallow breath.
Just saying it out loud and imagining him being the one to satisfy my craving sent my excitement soaring. My finger moved around my clitoris faster and I started to move down my labia, pushing into my wetness a few times before returning to rub my clitoris. I started to imagine his hard cock pressing against my hymen and breaking it as his passion and desire matched my own. I didn’t even pay attention to the timer because I knew it wouldn’t take me thirty minutes to finish. My body was so hot that it tingled with my lust. Even the spanking didn’t hurt anymore as the thrill erased everything but the sheer bliss of my building orgasm. My moans got louder and my breathing intensified. I could smell the faint odor of my lust as my body started to sweat from the heat I was generating.
“Daddy, don’t stop. You’re going to make me cum.” My words were a little louder, but they were still in a hushed whisper against my pursed lips.
My hips started to move up and I could feel my pussy tightening against the imaginary cock being thrust inside. I wasn’t sure if it was the fantasy or the time I had gone without pleasuring myself that made it so intense, but I didn’t care. I could tell the orgasm was going to be powerful and drain every bit of my strength. It built up to a fever as my hips continued to gyrate against my finger. My clitoris was a hard knot as all the nerve endings tightened underneath my rapidly moving finger. I could feel them all at once and it was like they were being ignited across my whole body. My legs got tight, my pussy clenched, and then the first overwhelming wave of pleasure swept over me as my orgasm began. I rubbed faster, wanting more. I didn’t want it to stop. It immediately started to build and then another release engulfed me. It wasn’t as powerful as the first, but I wasn’t done. I kept rubbing as my body shook and I continued to orgasm. I rubbed my clitoris until it was numb and there was no pleasure left to feel.
“Damn…” I muttered and looked down.
I had made a huge mess. My pussy was saturated and the bed underneath me was wet with the results of my orgasm. I looked over at the timer and saw I had ten minutes left. It had taken longer than I imagined and there definitely wasn’t time to recover and try for another one. I didn’t feel like I had anything left to give anyway. Once my pleasure was released, I felt a calmness over my whole body, except for my bottom. All of the rubbing and moving I had done while pleasuring myself had definitely reignited t
he sting. It was dull, but it was noticeable. I stared at the timer, spread eagle as he requested, and waited for my alone time to end. I heard him walking up the steps as the last minute ticked by and when it finally sounded, he pushed the key into the lock and turned it. I felt a bit embarrassed with a lot of shame that was likely etched on my face when he entered the room and looked down at me.
“It looks like you took full advantage of your alone time.” He smiled and walked to the changing table.
“I did.” I looked down at my pussy and the bed. “I made a mess.”
“That’s okay.” He walked over with a damp cloth. “Next time we’ll put a towel down.”
He sat down on the edge of the bed and started rubbing the damp cloth between my legs. My pussy was exhausted from my orgasm, but the feeling of his hands on my body made me start to feel another tingle. He wiped away the result of my lust and then helped me off the bed. I stood beside him as he peeled off the sheets and took out a fresh set from the drawer. Once the bottom sheet was placed, I started to help him tuck it in. When we were done, I had a fresh bed to sleep in. I was glad my excitement only left a stain on the sheet and didn’t seem down into the mattress. He pulled me close and hugged me tight.
“Good girls get rewarded.” He whispered into my ear. “Bad girls get punished.” His hand came down firmly on my bottom to accentuate his point.
“I’m going to be a good girl.” I nodded quickly.
“I hope so.” He helped me onto the changing table.
I lay back with my legs spread while he powdered me. When that was done, he slid another diaper around my waist and tightened it. He took me to the bed and read me a bedtime story from one of the books. It was a story about a knight, a castle, and a princess, but I didn’t get a chance to hear the ending. My eyes were heavy and I was so close to sleep that I tried to force my eyes open. There was simply no way to stay awake with his soothing words echoing in my ears. The day had been fairly eventful and my nighttime activity had left me exhausted. I finally just gave up on hearing the story and closed my eyes for the last time without fighting against them. Sleep came easily and it felt like the mattress wrapped around me as I drifted off.
***
My rehabilitation with my Daddy settled into a pattern. During the week, he left me alone with Ms. Veronica and we spent the day watching movies. Daddy arrived home late most nights and gave me my bottle before putting me over his knee for my bedtime spanking. I didn’t get a chance to pleasure myself every night, but he brought me other things as a reward. Sometimes it was a piece of candy or a bowl of ice cream before bed. Sometimes it was a new dress or ribbons for my pigtails. As much as I enjoyed all those things, I liked having alone time to think about him most of all. It was hard to start the day with a bath and an enema, feeling his hands on my body and wondering if I would get a chance to touch myself before the day was over. On the weekends, he stayed with me both days and I could leave my room—in his mind it was the only day I left my room for any length of time. After a couple of months passed, it all just seemed normal.
“I need your help.” Ms. Veronica dug into her bag and pulled out her vaporizer pen, puffing it nervously.
“What’s wrong?” I could see nervousness on her face.
“You’re a hacker, right?” She pulled out a laptop and placed it on the table.
“I mean… I have done it in the past, but I’m not an expert. I can write programs if the coding isn’t terribly difficult.” I looked at the screen as she unlocked it.
“I made a mistake. I got a little carried away with my Daddy’s credit card, and he’s going to be pissed.” She loaded up a credit card statement that showed several charges.
“What did you buy?” I scanned the list of store names.
“A few things I needed…” She shook her head back and forth. “Or at least I thought I needed them.”
“I thought he spoiled you?” I asked as she scrolled through the list.
“He does, but I have a budget for things I’m allowed to buy. I went way overboard and he said the next time I didn’t stay within my budget, he was going to cane me.” She grimaced. “I don’t mind getting a spanking, but the cane really, really hurts.”
“I’ve never even seen a cane…” I admitted.
“Pray you never do.” She sighed. “Can you fix this?”
“I don’t think I can hack a credit card company and make the charges go away…” I looked at the screen. “Can’t you just get the mail?”
“No, it goes to his email.” She stood. “I need a beer. Want anything?”
“A soda would be nice.” I stared at the charges. She had spent tens of thousands of dollars. I wondered what her budget actually was.
Ms. Veronica watched nervously as I messed around with the computer. I was mostly just doing it for show, hoping it would seem like I was doing something. I really couldn’t hack a credit card company. That would have required tons of expertise and software I didn’t own. Plus, it would be easy to trace it back if anyone started searching. After getting in trouble for what I did at Bradford International, I certainly didn’t want to end up on the wrong side of the law again. I doubted I would get a chance to serve my time at Daddy’s house, even if he tried to pull some strings again. I kept flipping around, loading source data from the website so it looked like I was doing something important, and finally sat back on the couch, shaking my head.
“It’s too secure.” I sighed. “There’s just no way.”
“There has to be something… Please, Bianca. You’re the only one I trust to help.” She pushed the laptop towards me again.
“Well, hold on…” An epiphany hit me. “You said he gets the bill sent to his email, right?”
“Yeah.” She nodded.
“We can change that. Here, let’s look at his profile.” I clicked on the link to the account details and pointed at the screen. “Is that his email?”
“Yes!” She smiled. “But, he’ll notice if the bill doesn’t come.”
“Well that is where I come in. I can create a fake invoice and we can use a fake email server to make it look like it came from the credit card company. What is your email?” I cleared out her Daddy’s address.
It didn’t long to get everything set up. I plugged in Ms. Veronica’s email and then started to create an outline of a fake bill using the billing history as a guide. I deleted the charges she didn’t want him to see, changed the totals at the bottom, and adjusted the amount of the bill. She mentioned that he normally paid it off, so it would take a few months to clear everything out, but if she was able to avoid spending a ton of money, we could pull it off. Ms. Veronica seemed a little more relaxed when she saw the finished product. I tested it by sending a copy to her email first, and after a few tweaks, it was perfect.
“You’re the best.” Ms. Veronica leaned over and hugged me.
“Let’s hope we don’t get caught.” I smiled and hugged her back.
I felt obligated to help Ms. Veronica, especially since she made my rehabilitation a lot more tolerable. If it wasn’t for her daily visits, I would have been a prisoner in my room for most of the day. The weekends were bad enough, and I didn’t spend the whole day there. I hoped my liberation was coming when the three-month mark passed and I could return to the room I stayed in the first night. I missed wearing panties instead of diapers and I missed having real food for every meal of the day. I was beyond ready to leave the first stage of my life as Little Bianca behind.
Chapter 22 — Sloane
Two months of rehabilitating Bianca had left me struggling with my own identity. Every day I had to bathe her, stare at her gorgeous body, and cover her up so she could spend her day in her room. Ms. Veronica had done a wonderful job babysitting Little Bianca, but I missed her during the day. I was falling for her and it had been a rough tumble down the rocks towards the pit of uncertainty in my stomach. Sometimes I thought she felt the same way, but no matter how often I wanted to react to it, I had to steady my
self. The sanctity of her rehabilitation was cracking at the seams of my heart as she seeped into my soul. I wanted her more than I had ever wanted a woman before, and denying myself of that was an unusual form of self-inflicted torture.
“Mr. Bradford…” The door cracked and Emmanuel, the man we had chosen to replace Gary, peeked his head inside.
“Hey, come on in.” I motioned towards him.
“There’s a problem.” He slid a tablet computer across my desk. “Ginnifer Watson just launched an exclusive interview with your cousin, Charles Bradford. It’s bad…”
“What the fuck?” I grabbed the tablet. “I need to be alone.”
“Yes sir.” Emmanuel rushed to the door and slammed it as he exited my office.
There had been peace since she wrote her fluff piece on Bradford International. I thought Charles had retreated into his hole with no plans of showing his claws again. I had let myself fall victim to my own foolishness. I knew he was a problem and I was going to deal with him, but when he didn’t do anything to warrant it, I held my tongue. The Bradford Institute was well on its way to shutting down without our backing and Charles had even started working on some new charity projects, so I felt like his warning shot was the best one he had. I scrolled through the interview that had been transcribed into the news article and felt my stomach clenching in anger.
“You mother fucker…” My jaw tightened so hard I thought a tooth was going to break off in my mouth.
The interview was more than a warning shot—it was a nuclear missile. It was titled Why I Won’t Work at Bradford International and detailed things about the company and the Bradford family that was spun to seem like Charles was the only good Bradford. He made it sound like he refused to work for the company and devoted his life to charity because he didn’t approve of things the family had done. He cited abuse of young women by previous patriarchs, faulty products released in other countries, and numerous security issues that could impact customers as just a few of his complaints. He took a giant fucking shit on the Bradford name and Bradford International. When asked why he had finally decided to tell his story, he outlined my decision to pull funding from the Bradford Institute as the reason, stating the good work he was doing there was the only reason he kept silent. He finished by comparing me to Adolf Hitler.
