Convincing Leah (Surrender Book 9)
Page 12
“Then why should that be different when you engage in age play? The submission is even deeper. Everything is even more out of your control. I’m dominating you constantly. I’d be worried if you didn’t squirm with need.”
I nod slowly, trying to understand.
“No matter how deep you let yourself slide into your little. No matter how long or how often you stay there. No matter how young you let yourself explore. You’re still a grown woman who is sexually reacting to dominance.”
I think I get it. He’s making sense. “Okay.”
“Good girl.” He leans over and kisses my forehead before grabbing a washcloth and pouring liquid soap on it.
I giggle when I see that it’s baby soap in the pink bottle.
“What’s so funny?” he asks as he lifts one of my arms and starts to wash me.
“I’m just repeatedly surprised by the number of things you own for the lifestyle.”
“I told you, I was prepared. Wishfully hopeful. I’ve thought about washing you with baby soap for a long time.” He grins. “I can’t wait to smell your skin after I’ve bathed you.”
I lift my gaze to his, thinking to remind him not to get too hopeful about this arrangement. It’s temporary. But no words come out because he picks that moment to rub the washcloth over my breasts, squeezing them slightly and rubbing my nipples until I gasp.
He’s got an evil grin as he washes my back and then moves to my feet and up my legs.
I gasp and grab the sides of the tub when he reaches for my pussy and rubs the cloth over my folds, lingering until my knuckles are white and I’m panting. “Craig…” My brain is scrambled.
He pulls his hand away before picking up a cup and using it to rinse off my body.
I’m trembling when he lets the water out and lifts me from the tub. I stare at it longingly, wishing I could relax in it longer.
“We don’t have time for you to play in the water right now, sweetheart. Master Quinten is coming over in a few minutes. I bet you want to be dressed when he gets here.”
I lift my gaze. “Today? Now?” The idea makes me nervous.
“Yep. I told you I was going to call him.”
“Yes, but I didn’t think he would drop everything and come immediately for a house call. I was picturing an office visit in two weeks.”
Craig smiles as he pats my body dry with a towel. “Turns out Master Quinten does extra special favors for people in the fetish community, especially members of Surrender. I talked to him for a while on the phone. He sounds amazing.”
“But…”
Craig sets the towel aside and gives my bottom a pat. “No buts. Come on. Let’s see what Eve brought in the suitcase.”
I follow him into the master bedroom. I’m totally naked and now I’m emotionally messy. I’m suffering from a combination of extreme arousal which he has to know and now nervous tension, which he also has to know. That’s why he didn’t tell me about Master Quinten’s visit sooner.
Craig lifts my suitcase onto the bed and unzips it. The first thing he picks up on top is an unopened package of panties.
I rush forward and look into the suitcase. I think I see a few of my own clothes in there, but the top layer is stuff I did not own before this moment. “I’m going to kill Eve,” I mutter.
Craig chuckles. “She’s insightful.”
“She’s meddling, and if she finds out about this, I’ll never live it down. She thinks she knows what’s best for me.”
Craig opens the package and pulls out a pink pair of panties. Before I can protest, he’s squatting in front of me. “Hold my shoulders. Lift your foot, sweetheart.”
I grab his shoulders and let him put the pair of panties on me, completely unnerved when he pulls them up over my bottom.
“Perfect,” he declares.
“I haven’t owned anything that covered this much of my butt since I was ten,” I inform him.
He laughs. “And how old are you today?”
I groan. “Five.”
He gives a little tug to the small bow at the front of my panties, making the elastic snap against my belly button because that’s how high-cut they are.
While I’m still staring at how silly I look, my heart races because at the same time, the panties have yanked me totally into a very young headspace and my already wet pussy is now soaked.
I’m still uncertain about feeling this level of arousal while pretending to be so young, but I’m starting to see the appeal. Right or wrong, I’m going to squirm the entire time I’m wearing these very young panties.
The next item Craig holds up is hot pink leggings. Without a word, he helps me step into them and pulls them up too. They were also not found in my closet or drawers. Eve is dead.
“Arms up, sweet girl.”
I lift my arms on command and Craig pulls a soft cotton shirt over my head. It’s fitted and therefore snug. It barely conceals my tummy. It’s light pink with writing across the front. I nearly die when I read it. Daddy’s girl.
He hasn’t given me a bra, and my damn nipples are hard, obvious points.
I cross my arms. “Craig…”
“It fits you perfectly, and you look adorable.” He stands and takes my hand. “Let’s fix your hair.”
“You can see my nipples,” I point out unnecessarily.
“Yep.” He spins me so that I’m facing the full-length mirror in the bathroom and begins to work through the tangles in my hair with a brush.
Craig smiles at me in the mirror as he works. “You are so incredibly precious. You have no idea.”
I cover my boobs with both hands. “My nipples, Craig.” I shudder.
His smile spreads. “How many times has Master Quinten seen you naked?”
“I don’t know. A lot,” I murmur.
“How many of those times were your nipples hard?”
“All of them,” I whisper. Why does Craig have to be so reasonable?
“How many littles have you seen wearing bras?”
I sigh. “None.”
“What did you say Master Quinten’s little’s name is?”
“Josie.”
“Have you ever seen her in a bra?”
“No.” My shoulders drop. I’ve never been in this strange headspace. I’m freaking out.
“Is there a single chance in the world that Master Quinten will bat an eye or flinch over your choice to try out age play for the day?”
Now that I’m not sure about. “Maybe?”
Craig lifts both brows as he finishes brushing through my wild hair and parts it into two sections. “Fine. Let’s say for argument’s sake that he’s momentarily shocked that you’ve chosen to give age play a try today. Will he judge you?”
“No, Sir.”
“Right. Now, outside of the guest we’re about to have, if he weren’t coming, how would you feel about this outfit?”
“Young.” I shuffle my feet. My pussy is wet. My panties are wet. The arousal I felt in the tub is growing. My breasts are heavy, and I’m squeezing them with both hands still because if I let go, I’m going to moan from the way the cotton rubs my nipples.
I’m impressed by how quickly he braids my hair in two long, thick rows behind my ears. I look very young. He looks very pleased.
He pats my bottom when he’s done. “How’d I do?”
I release my breasts to run my hands down the two braids. “Perfect.” I smile at him. “You did great.”
“Why thank you.” He bends down and kisses my forehead. I find I like when he does that, and he does it often. “Ready?”
Chapter 13
Leah
When we enter the great room, Craig points at the table. “You need to eat. You’ve had nothing but pancakes today. Sit. I’ll make you a sandwich.”
I climb onto the chair and stare at myself, still uncertain about this trial we’re doing and how I feel about these clothes my meddling friend has brought me.
I’m swinging my bare feet when Craig sits next to me, sliding a
plate in front of me. “I asked Eve if you were allergic to anything. She said no.”
I grin. “Peanut butter and jelly?”
He gives one of my braids a tug. “Little girls love PB and J, right?”
I nod and pick up the first triangle. He has not only cut the sandwich into four triangles, but he has also removed the crust. I moan around the first bite. I haven’t had a PB and J in years.
Craig stands. “I’ll get you a drink.” He doesn’t ask me what I want. He just returns with a sippy cup of milk.
My plate also has apple wedges on it. He’s sprinkled them with cinnamon. “Mmm.” I love this part of age play. Someone fixing me foods. Yummy foods that kids like. A luxury.
I’ve finished eating and Craig is wiping my face when the doorbell rings. “That’ll be Master Quinten. Good timing.” He lifts me from the chair and sets me on my feet as if I couldn’t have done so myself before heading for the door.
I approach awkwardly, feeling like I’m in someone else’s skin, beyond uncertain about this idea. I force myself to keep my hands at my sides, but I’m stressed about my outfit and the missing bra.
Intellectually, I know Master Quinten would never in a million years indicate shock. It’s not in his nature. Plus, as a clinical psychologist, he wouldn’t judge a soul.
After shaking Craig’s hand in greeting, he smiles broadly at me. “Hey, Leah. I heard you went through quite an ordeal yesterday.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Craig waves toward the sectional. “Please. Have a seat wherever you’d like. We really appreciate you coming over like this. It’s above and beyond.”
Master Quinten smiles warmly as he chooses a seat on one end of the sectional. “My last client was a bit earlier than usual today, so this worked out perfectly.”
“Can I get you something to drink?” Craig asks.
“No. Thank you. I’m fine.”
Craig sets his hands on my shoulders. “Do you want me to stay in the room for a few minutes, sweetheart? Or go into my office?”
I tip my head back, shocked. “Stay please.” I look at Master Quinten. “Can he stay?”
“Of course. Whatever makes you most comfortable.”
Craig sits across from Master Quinten and I hedge for half a second before doing the strangest, most natural thing. I climb up onto his lap.
He doesn’t flinch. He settles me on one knee and pats my thigh.
Maybe this is weird, but it’s what feels right to me. I’m comforted by his touch. I want his hands on me and to feel his warmth while I do this.
And what is this? I’m suddenly nervous.
“Have you ever had counseling before, Leah?” Master Quinten asks.
“No, Sir.” I shake my head, feeling ridiculously small and little and scared.
“No reason to be nervous. Think of me as a friend who happens to know a lot about how the human brain processes stress. Hopefully, I can help you work out some things. Okay?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“If calling me Sir feels right to you at the moment, that’s what you should call me, but you don’t have to. Do what’s comfortable.”
I nod. I’m sitting stiffly, my hands fisted on my thighs.
Craig sets his larger palm over one of my fists.
“How about if one of you gives me a bit of a rundown of what has happened and where we stand.”
I look at Craig. “You do it.”
He pats my thigh. “Okay, sweetheart.”
Craig recants what happened to me between yesterday morning and now, while I sit perfectly still, my hands pressed between my thighs. He gives him the basics at least.
Master Quinten nods as Craig speaks, and when Craig is finished with the gist of the story, Master Quinten looks at me. “It makes perfectly good sense that you might be open to age play today. It can be a great way to let your mind heal after what happened to you. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
I nod.
“I’m curious about the story about your childhood though. It sounds like you had to grow up too soon and too fast.”
“Yeah. I didn’t have a choice. I was afraid if I wasn’t good and I didn’t take care of my mother, someone would find out and come and take me away from her.”
“That must have been awful. I can’t imagine the stress that put on such a young girl.”
I nod, trying not to let my emotions overwhelm me for the tenth time today.
“When Craig and I talked on the phone, he filled me in on some of his concerns. He said you told him earlier that you aren’t supposed to be naughty. Can we talk about that?”
I shrug. “I guess.”
“Did your mother get mad when you misbehaved, sweetie?”
I find it oddly comforting that Master Quinten is talking to my little. I’m in her space right now. I didn’t even know I had a little space, but I do, and my adult is nowhere to be found.
I shake my head. “No. Never. She was the best mother in the world. She loved me to pieces. She tried so hard to be there for me. I know she hated the burden I had to bear, but we had each other. Sometimes I think she lived past my eighteenth birthday just so I wouldn’t end up in the system.”
“So most of the time while you were growing up, she was still mentally cognizant?”
“Yes, but she couldn’t do things. Most things. Like, cook and clean and take care of me.”
“So, you had to grow up and be strong for both of you when you were still in kindergarten.”
“Yes,” I whisper.
“Where did you get the idea that you weren’t permitted to be naughty?”
I wring my hands together in my lap, staring at them.
Craig doesn’t say a word. He simply pats my thigh with the arm wrapped around me. He’s not pressuring me in any way.
“The doctor.”
“What doctor was that, sweetie?” Master Quinten asks.
“My mother’s doctor. I always went with her to the visits because she couldn’t leave me home alone. We took a taxi until I got my driver’s license and could take her myself.”
“The doctor told you not to be naughty?”
I sniffle and nod my head, covering my face. Suddenly, I’m every bit the five-year-old girl I was that day. I remember it like it was yesterday.
“Can you tell me about that, sweetie?”
The memory brings tears to my eyes. “I was in the exam room with my mom, and I needed to go potty, but I didn’t want to interrupt, so I was trying to wait. I tried so hard.” I suck in a sob. “I didn’t know I was doing a potty dance next to my mom. I couldn’t stand still.”
Craig stiffens, his hand tightening on my thigh.
“What happened next?” Master Quinten asks gently.
“The nurse was going to draw some blood from my mom and that made me squeamish, so the doctor took me out into the hallway. He crouched down next to me and gripped my arm. He told me he was very sorry that my mom was sick and that I needed to understand that she was going to gradually get sicker and she would need my help.”
I pause, squeezing my eyes closed as I remember his words.
“Did you have an accident, sweetie?” Master Quinten asks.
I shake my head. “No. I forgot all about needing to pee. He didn’t realize I had to use the potty. He thought I was misbehaving. So, he told me that I had to be a good girl from then on and help my mom out because if I was naughty social services would find out and take me away.”
Craig gasps. His hands come around me, and he pulls me against his chest. I feel his lips on my forehead.
Master Quinten pulls in a breath. “Oh, sweetie, I’m so sorry. That must have been traumatizing. You were so young.”
“Who would tell a child that?” Craig asked rhetorically.
“The exact words may be twisted a bit in Leah’s head, but that doesn’t matter. The important thing is that she left there believing she had to be good or she would lose her mother.”
I nod, swiping at tears.
&nb
sp; “You were the most well-behaved child on earth weren’t you, sweetie?” Master Quinten asks.
I nod again. “Yes. I never ever, ever did naughty things. I made good grades and kept the house clean and fixed our meals and helped my mom out every way I could. I didn’t complain or anything.” I know I sound like that girl. I feel like her too.
It’s silent for a few moments, and then Master Quinten speaks again. “And you’ve never engaged in age play before today?”
I shake my head. “No. I’m not little. I was never little. I don’t even know what it’s like to be little,” I explain.
“I can see why you would think that, but what if you could be little? What if you could go back and be the free-spirited child you should have been. Wouldn’t that be nice?”
I lift my gaze to his. I’m shaking at his suggestion. “I don’t know.”
“I’m not saying it’s mandatory. It’s not for everyone. But maybe a part of you would like to not be quite so good all the time. It’s exhausting, isn’t it?”
I nod as more tears fall.
“Why do you think you entered the fetish community in the first place?”
I bite my lip for a moment, thinking. “I was intrigued by impact play. I read about it and then looked it up. I watched it on the internet. I got such a high when I watched it that I decided to try it.”
“How do you feel when a Dom spanks you or flogs you?”
“Relieved. Like I’m absolved or something.”
“Absolved from what, sweetie?”
I shrug.
“Do you do bad things during the week and then enjoy having someone inadvertently forgive you by spanking you?” Master Quinten prods.
I shake my head. “I never do naughty things.”
“Never?” He lifts a brow.
“Not intentionally,” I tell him, my voice cracking. “I don’t do them on purpose.”
“Don’t do what? Give me an example.”
“Like if I accidentally cut someone off in traffic or bump into someone when I’m walking or something.”
“Those are accidents, sweetie. Everyone has little accidents during the day.”
“Not me. They make me feel bad.”
“And then you go to the club and get the slate wiped clean,” he states.