Rescuing Rita

by Pepper North

  “That’s great. Come over whenever it’s convenient. Come on, Priscilla. Let’s see who can walk home the fastest,” Mitch said to distract his Little girl.

  “Why does she have to take a nap now, Daddy? Didn’t she just get out of bed?” Priscilla’s voice drifted back to Rita and Bart as they hustled away. Mitch’s hushed masculine voice couldn’t be understood, but there was no disguising Priscilla’s reaction.

  “Oh! That’s why they’re going back to bed.” The footsteps kept receding. Then the last thing they heard was, “I’ve been really good, Daddy.”

  “Good Littles deserve a reward, don’t they, Ritagirl?” Bart asked with a slow, heated smile.

  “I’ve been really good, Daddy,” Rita parroted Priscilla’s words.

  “Let’s get in the truck, honey. I need to get you home.”

  Chapter 15

  Bart drove home quickly but smoothly to prevent jarring his Little girl. As he drove with her buckled into the middle part of the bench seat, Bart considered how to make love to her without worsening the effects of her concussion. His eyes glanced over to mesh with hers often. She’s mine.

  Putting the truck into park in the large garage, Bart turned to wrap his hand around the back of her neck and pull Rita in for a kiss. Lifting his head, Bart warned, “Stay in your seat. I will come to get you.” When she nodded, Bart let himself out of the truck cab and jogged around to open her door.

  “Wha… aat?” she gasped as he lifted her from the truck and began to carry her across the garage toward the door. “I’m too heavy,” she protested only to close her mouth with a snap as he met her eyes with a very disapproving look. Rita decided that she should trust him to know his own strength. She simply pushed open the door between the garage and the kitchen as he paused at the door.

  “Good girl,” he praised her, dropping a kiss to the top of her head.

  Extraordinarily pleased by his simple praise, Rita pressed a kiss to the suntanned skin at the base of his throat. She clung to his shoulders in surprise when he lowered her to sit on the kitchen table. “I’m not hungry,” she rushed to assure him, afraid that he had decided to feed her rather than fulfill the promise of his earlier passionate looks.

  “I’m suddenly starving,” he answered, stepping between her knees, forcing her thighs to spread widely apart. His fingers hooked under the hem at the bottom of her t-shirt and began to lift.

  Rita raised her arms to allow him to pull off her shirt, revealing her full breasts. Automatically in the bright light of the kitchen, her arms started to cover her chest.

  “Little girl, do not hide your body from your Daddy,” he commanded with a tone that made her freeze in place before she forced her hands back to her lap. “Good, Ritagirl.”

  His passion-filled blue eyes held hers until she whispered, “Okay, Daddy!” The slow smile that answered her agreement made her sit taller, inviting his perusal. Only then did his eyes caress over the soft skin he’d revealed. The path of his gaze heating her body without a single touch of his fingers.

  “Such a beautiful Little,” he complimented as he leaned forward to kiss her. As his lips softly wooed her, one large hand cupped the back of her head. When he had her held securely in place, his lips became more demanding as he swept his tongue into her mouth to taste her sweetness, drawing moans of delight from their throats. Slowly, he leaned forward, pressing her back against the smooth, cool oak table. His cupping hand protecting her head from any sudden movement or impact.

  Rita’s fingers clutched his shirt, holding him close when he lifted his lips. Panting slightly from the hot kisses, she wiggled under him, enjoying the feel of his shirt against her bare skin. There was something totally hot about being topless under the press of his fully clothed body. She clung to him as he began to shift backward as his lips kissed the tender skin under her jawline and down the delicate curve of her neck.

  His fingers gripped the sides of her waist before sliding over her ribs to brush the sides of her breasts. She shivered under his light touch, hoping that his fingers would move to cup her breasts. When he didn’t but just continued to tease her, Rita begged, “Please, Daddy. Touch me!”

  Whispering against her skin, Bart asked, “Where, honey? Here?” His hands slid across her skin to cover each breast, trapping her nipples between two long fingers. He compressed those tight buds until she moaned in reaction and arched her chest up toward him.

  When he straightened away from her body, she reached out, trying to hold him to her. “Shhh! Little girl, I’m going to protect your head. I’m not leaving,” he promised. Bart reached one hand over his head and grabbed the back of his shirt in one large fist. Pulling upward, he stripped his shirt off and leaned back forward. He lifted her head gently and cushioned her skull with the soft cotton of the discarded garment.

  “You need to lie still, Ritagirl. I don’t want you to jostle your head. Will you do that for me?” he asked.

  “I’ll try,” she whispered.

  “Good, girl,” he praised and rewarded her with a kiss that swept her breath away before lifting his lips and rewarding her with a line of kisses trailing to one impudent nipple.

  She felt the heat of his breath as he hovered over the tight bud. Urgently, she begged, “Please. Please, Daddy. Make love to me!”

  His lips instantly closed around her nipple and pulled it into his warm mouth. His tongue flicked back and forth over the tip, evoking a moan of pleasure from her. Afraid that he would stop again if she moved, Rita tried to stay still. Her fingers sunk into Bart’s thick hair as she urged him for more.

  Jumping slightly as the fingers, on one hand, tweaked her other nipple, Rita froze underneath him as pleasure zinged through her breast. As his hand moved to cup her fullness and lift that sweet mound toward him, his mouth released one tip and moved to lavish kisses on the other. Her eyes closed as she concentrated on the sensations that were building in her body.

  When his hand slide over her plump stomach to push down the leggings, Rita peeked up at him. Afraid that he would dislike her rounded curves, she relaxed instantly. His face was a mask of male arousal that never wavered or changed. His appreciation of her body was carved into his expression.

  Thrusting old insecurities out of her mind, Rita bent her knees to place her feet against the edge of the table. She lifted her hips to help him as he tugged the leggings off. Bart quickly pulled the oversized boots that he had loaned her to wear to the barn and tossed those to the side before unfastening her unused diaper and tossing it into the garbage.

  She lie nude on the cool table as he stepped back slightly from the edge of the table. His eyes devoured the display of her most private area. With a groan, he stroked hard down the front of his bulging jeans. “Ritagirl, I want you to be sure. Are you ready for this big step?” he questioned, watching her face for any sign of indecision or discomfort.

  Smiling at him, Rita felt more powerful than she ever had. She had caused the erection that strained the denim. This handsome man wanted her as much as she wanted him. The earlier climax had been incredible, but she needed to feel him inside her—feel him possess her. Reaching out to him again, she repeated, “Please, Daddy!”

  Rita’s eyes stayed glued to his fingers as Bart slowly unbuttoned the fly of his jeans. After grabbing a small packet from his pocket and tossing it on the table next to her, he pushed them over the hard butt that she’d ogled each time she had followed him. As they dropped to the floor, his hands were already lifting the waistband of his boxer briefs over the erection that stretched the cotton fabric. When those also fell around his ankles, Bart stepped closer once again.

  One hand cupped her cheek, and he leaned over her to kiss her fiercely. His free hand gently sliding under her head to cushion her skull from being pressed into the wood below her. Lifting his lips and body from her, those skillful hands stroked down the sides of her body. Stopping here and there to caress and tease, Bart seemed to know exactly where she needed to be touched and how.


  He played her body like a beautiful cello. Stroking here and there, she soon forgot her promise to lie still. His hands pressed her to the table to restrain her movements and keep her safe. She loved the constraint as his muscular body controlled her movements. Her body hummed under this touch. Rita didn’t think she’d ever been so turned on.

  When his hands left her to open the condom packet, the crinkle made her wetter in anticipation. Avidly, she watched him roll the protection over his long, thick penis. Unconsciously licking her lips at the sight of his hand stroking his erection, Rita tried to scoot closer to him.

  Once fully protected, he lifted her right foot from the edge of the table and drew it toward his body to hook her knee over his shoulder. Sliding his hands under her full hips, Bart lifted her slightly from the table and pulled her bottom over the edge. He closed the slight gap between their bodies immediately as he stepped forward to rub his shaft against the slick pink folds between her legs.

  A low moan erupted from both of their mouths as their bodies pressed together. Watching between her separated thighs, Rita froze as Bart fit the wide head of his penis against her opening. His words sent a shiver of awareness through her body.

  “Once I make you mine, I will never let you go,” Bart warned. The strain of holding himself back, combined with passion, tightened the shoulder muscles under her knee.

  “Make me yours, Daddy. I want to be with you,” she rushed to say.

  With a flex of his hips, the thick head of his penis began to move slowly into her body. Bart didn’t rush. He allowed her body to contract and then relax as his body glided into her body on a sea of wetness. His gaze caressed her body as he held her left leg now wrapped around his back and the thigh of her right one that lay against his body.

  When the tip of his erection reached the mouth of her womb, Bart reversed and began to pull slowly out. With rigid control etched in his face, the caring man maintained this gentle stroke in and out. His eyes devoured the view of her body displayed in front of him and the sight of his thick shaft gliding in and out of her body.

  “Please,” she begged as she writhed on the table. The sensations he drew from her body brought her quickly to the edge of something amazing. Rita bit her lip in anticipation as she strained toward the onslaught of pleasure that she could feel lurking just outside her reach.

  She reached a hand to Bart in supplication. Gasping in surprise as he drew her hand between her thighs, her eyes met his in shock. Was he asking her to do what she thought?

  “Touch yourself, Ritagirl. Your Daddy wants to know what brings you pleasure. Show me what you like,” he demanded.

  “But…” her voice trailed off in embarrassment.

  “There are no lies between a Little girl and her Daddy, Ritagirl. Show Daddy how you pleasure yourself,” he urged as his body continued its slow thrusts in and out. His fingers pressed hers into the wetness, and he began to move her fingers over her inner labia and clitoris.

  Rita missed his slow smile when her eyes closed to concentrate on the sensations he was helping build between her legs. Her fingers began to move under his, showing him the rhythm and type of touch she enjoyed. To his delight, she even revealed her secret arousal points. When his hand lifted from hers, she continued unbidden.

  Bart gripped her thigh, holding her close as his pelvis flexed to bring her pleasure. When her passion-glazed eyes met his, she knew that he would never let her go. She was his—the Little that he had dreamed of finding. Rita’s lips parted to share a smile filled with promise and passion. He was hers as well.

  Chapter 16

  Both Littles giggled at the sight of the other’s damp hair. The telltale sign of their afternoon showers following the passion that they had each shared with their Daddies. They shared a snack of cookies and milk on the small table in Priscilla’s beautiful nursery. Overflowing with happiness, the two Littles chattered easily as they got to know each other.

  “You don’t remember anything?” Priscilla asked with wide eyes.

  “I know my name is Rita. I remember a phone number, but it was disconnected. The police detective is trying to figure out who I am. I think Daddy, er, Bart is investigating too.” Rita’s face blushed red at her slip in not using Bart’s name.

  “It’s safe here. You can call him Daddy if you wish,” Priscilla shared, before taking another bite of the chocolate chip cookie. Her Daddy had helped her make them yesterday. She wasn’t allowed to use the oven without his supervision. “I had always dreamed of finding a Daddy who would love me. All those books couldn’t be wrong, right? Daddies had to exist.”

  Her jaw dropped open, and Rita stared at her. “You read books, too? My e-reader was packed with age play books.”

  “Me, too. It still is. Now, Daddy just reads them to me. Sometimes we act out the spicy parts. That’s my favorite. Bringing the story alive, just as I imagined when I was alone in my room,” Priscilla confessed before taking another bite.

  That reminded Rita that she also held a cookie. Taking a bite, she chewed thoughtfully before sharing, “I had all sorts of books on my e-reader. I hope they didn’t open my purse when they found it at the bar. I kept thinking I should put a password on my e-reader to make sure that no one could open it and read the titles of all the books in there. I never did because it’s such a pain to enter it each time,” Rita said blithely as she decided what spot to bite next to get the most chocolate chips.

  The quiet that followed her statement, drew her attention to Priscilla, who looked at her in shock. “What?” Rita asked, self-consciously.

  “You’re remembering things. You left your purse in a bar. Maybe someone gave you a roofie?” Priscilla jumped up and whirled around.

  Racing to her crib, she leaned over to talk into a purple stuffed hippopotamus’ belly. “Daddy! Daddy, come quick! Rita remembers stuff!”

  Rapid heavy footsteps in the hallway announced the men’s progression before they burst into the room. “Rita? Are you okay, honey?” Bart asked in concern as he walked to her side quickly and dropped to sit on the floor next to her low chair.

  “I’m okay,” she reassured him.

  “We were talking about age play books, and Rita mentioned that she hoped no one had opened her e-reader that she’d left in her purse when they find it at the bar,” Priscilla rushed to fill in the concerned Daddies. She crawled onto Mitch’s lap when he seated himself on the carpet following Bart’s example. “Do you think someone put something in her drink?

  “When Gumdrop found Rita, she didn’t appear to be drugged. We were outside a pool hall. Do you think that’s where you left your purse?” he questioned Rita gently.

  Screwing up her nose as she tried to remember, Rita finally shook her head. “I don’t think I was there for a drink. I remember the ingredients in drinks, like in a froufrou cosmopolitan. I can see my hands pouring alcohol into a shaker. I think I was a bartender,” she announced triumphantly.

  Bart kissed the side of her head and pulled out his phone. Finding the police officer’s number, he pressed the button. Everyone in the nursery fell silent as they listened to the faint sound of the telephone connecting.

  “This is Officer Doug Hamilton,” the deep voice answered the phone.

  “Officer Hamilton, this is Bart Jennings. We met when you came to interview a young woman who had lost her memory at the hospital. Rita is starting to remember a few things…” he started when the other man interrupted.

  “Mr. Jennings, I can’t reveal any information about the case without Rita’s permission,” the officer informed him. “Is she with you now?”

  “Yes, she is here. Let me turn on the speakerphone.” After a look at Rita to get her okay to share the information, Bart quickly pressed a button on the device to broadcast the conversation into the nursery. “Officer Hamilton, we can both hear you now.”

  “Hi, Officer,” Rita said in a quiet voice to let him know that she was there and listening.

  “Do I have your permission to speak freely
in front of Mr. Jennings, Rita?”

  “Yes, of course!” Rita rushed to assure him before blurting, “We think I worked in a bar.”

  “You did, indeed. The video surveillance of the poolhall revealed that you entered with Eddie Shaffer, the owner of The Country Tavern where you have bartended for slightly over two years. A couple of the waitresses called into the station to report that you disappeared without any of your belongings. I had already picked up Mr. Shaffer for questioning when I observed you entering the poolhall with him on the security tapes for that night. You didn’t appear to be there voluntarily,” the officer began filling in the blanks in her memory.

  “What’s my name?” she implored him.

  “Margarita Alma, you’re thirty-two,” he informed her.

  Rita’s mind raced in a million directions with all the information that began clicking into place. When Bart tugged her out of the chair to sit in his lap, she quickly shifted, thankful to have his arms around her. Things were starting to fall into place. It was almost more disturbing to have bits and pieces floating around her head than to have her mind be totally blank.

  Bart asked the officer a few questions. Rita didn’t absorb any of their conversation, and she tried to sort through the mess that her memories had become. Finally, she abruptly interrupted Bart to ask, “Am I a good person?”

  The officer was very quiet for a couple of seconds. That was not a question that he had been expecting. “Rita, I can’t make a judgment call like that. I’ve never met you before you lost your memory. I can tell you that your coworkers were very concerned about you. They all risked their jobs to call and report that you were missing. I’ve dealt with a lot of different types of people in this job. Very few people risk their own livelihood on someone who is a bad person.”