by Pepper North
Amy
Dr. Richards’ Littles 2
By Pepper North
Text copyright ©2017 Pepper North
All Rights Reserved
Other titles by Pepper North
Zoey: Dr. Richards’ Littles 1
Amy: Dr. Richards’ Littles 2
Carrie: Dr. Richards’ Littles 3
Jake: Dr. Richards’ Littles 4
Angelina: Dr. Richards’ Littles 5
Brad: Dr. Richards’ Littles 6
The Digestive Health Center: Susan’s Story
Charlotte: Dr. Richards’ Littles 7
Sofia and Isabella: Dr. Richards’ Littles 8
Author’s Note: The following story is completely fictional. The characters are all over the age of 18 and as adults choose to live their lives in an age play environment. This is a series of books that can be read in any order. You may, however, choose to read them sequentially to best enjoy the characters. Subsequent books will feature characters that appear in previous novels as well as new faces. Prepare to enter the new world of Dr. Richards’ Littles. Enjoy!
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Excerpt from Carrie: Dr. Richards’ Littles 3
Chapter One
This had to be the worst day of Amy’s life. Her electricity had been turned off some time over night. Without an alarm to wake her up on time, she’d arrived late for the important job interview and had been told the position had already been filled. Now, it was pouring down with rain. Not only had Amy forgotten to bring an umbrella but her heel on her interview pumps had just gotten stuck in an iron grate in the sidewalk. Amy just dropped her head and began to cry in quiet misery. Standing in the deluge of rain, she lost all hope.
She’d been counting on that job. Her rent was due and her landlord was already threatening to evict her. She’d had no money to eat for the last couple of days. Now, her only dress shoes were ruined. Not that she had any other interviews scheduled. What in the world was she going to do?
A deep, quiet voice invaded her desperate thoughts. “Are you all right, sweetheart?” It had been so long since she’d heard a kind tone, she thought she must be imagining it. “Here. Hold the umbrella and I’ll see if I can get your shoe free.” Numbly, she took the umbrella thrust into her hand and felt strong hands grip her ankle and shoe, rotating the heel to free it. “I’m worried about you, little girl. Is there anyone I can call to come get you?” he questioned worriedly. When Amy just shook her head to say no and cried harder with body shaking sobs, he instructed, “Come with me to my office and let’s see if we can get you in better shape.” A gentle hand pressed into the small of Amy’s back and guided her through a nearby doorway into the warm, dry entrance of a well-decorated office building.
“Doris, I’ve found a little girl that needs some help. Please close the office for the rest of the afternoon so we’re not disturbed. Could you get us some towels and see if you can find some clothes upstairs in my home that would fit her? We need to get her out of these wet things and warmed up” the deep voice instructed the secretary behind the big reception desk. Doris Anderson immediately sprang from her chair and locked the office’s entry door before walking briskly down the hall to return with a stack of fluffy white towels. “I’ll put these in your private bathroom Sir, and go check on those clothes.”
“Thanks, Doris.” The warm hand against Amy’s back again guided her forward through an enormous office decorated in warm colors and mahogany wood, through to a large bathroom. Doris set the towels on the vanity top. She turned and smiled at Amy taking her rain-drenched purse from her limp hand. Doris opened it up and removed the wallet finding Amy’s identification card. “Amy Anderson, 23, lives in Summerset,” she read to Mr. Smythe. They both nodded at each other. Good, she was an adult and able to make her own decisions.
“You’re so lucky that Mr. Smythe found you. He’ll take good care of you. No need to worry, little one.” Doris reassured Amy gently and she exited Mr. Smythe’s office, leaving them alone.
“Looks like you’ve had quite a day and I suspect the last couple of weeks have been hard as well.” He tipped her head up and Amy saw his face for the first time. Handsome, about forty, concern wrinkled across his forehead. “Why were you out in this torrential rainstorm?” Mr. Smythe asked gently as he brushed his wet brown hair out of his eyes.
“I had an interview but I missed it,” she responded shivering in her sodden clothing. Could she be any more miserable? Lightheaded from not eating for several days, she vaguely registered that Mr. Smythe began unbuttoning her blouse, removing it before moving on to her skirt’s zipper, and finally removing her pantyhose and shoes. She realized that she was standing there shaking from the cold in her bra and panties. As he removed her wet bra, lifting the cups from her small plump breasts, Amy felt his warm fingers brush her tightly erect nipples as if by accident. Realizing that this stranger should not be taking care of her like this, Amy made a small sound of protest as his fingers slid under the sides of her panties. “There, there, little girl, just let me take care of you” he responded with a calm voice.
It wasn’t proper but it was so much easier to just let someone else take over and make decisions when she was so tired. He knelt in front of Amy and she felt his eyes on her small breasts before he brushed his warm hands down her sides. Reaching the sides of her white cotton panties, he swept his right hand forward on her body, sliding it inside the crotch of the soaked wisp of material between her legs. He briefly brushed her most private area before pulling the panties down her chubby legs. “Step, Amy. Let’s get the last of these wet clothes off you” he instructed quietly.
Rising to his feet, he wrapped her body in a giant fluffy towel and her hair in another. Doris entered the room with material folded over her arm. “I could just find a nightie, sir. Will this work?” she inquired looking at her boss. At his nod, she lay it on the vanity and exited the room.
Mr. Smythe took his time gently chaffing Amy’s body dry. He briskly rubbed all the chilled parts of her body. Amy felt tingly as the towel circled each of her breasts several times and the soft material was dragged repeatedly over her pink nipples. When the towel reached her legs Mr. Smythe instructed her to spread her legs so he could dry her. When Amy was slow to respond, she felt a sharp smack on her nude behind. Startled, she shifted her legs apart. “That’s a good girl, Amy. You do know how to follow instructions.” The towel brushed back and forth across her sensitive clitoris and vaginal opening. Amy felt herself begin to dampen as an involuntary response to the caress. “What a great girl you are, Amy, so responsive. Your daddy must be very proud of you.” Tears filled Amy’s eyes as she responded, “My parents died in a car crash five months ago. My whole family is gone now.”
“Just let me take care of you Amy. Pretend I’m your daddy. It’s all going to be okay,” he reassured her as he finished drying her legs. He dropped the towel to the ground before picking up the flannel gown and lowering it over her head. It was pastel pink and, although adult-size, looked amazingly like a pampered little girl’s nightie with baby animal decorations and lace. Drying her hair next, Mr. Smythe finished by gently combing out th
e tangles in her hair. When she protested as the comb found snarls in her shoulder length hair, Mr. Smythe responded “Why do all little girls hate having the tangles taken out of their hair? Amy, hold still. We’re going to get this all unsnarled so it can dry nicely and look pretty. I don’t want to have to swat your bottom again for not cooperating like a good girl.” Quickly he finished and gave her a quick hug.
Holding her hand in his large grasp, Mr. Smythe led Amy back to his comfortable office. Leading her to the large sofa in the corner, he sat down and pulled Amy onto his lap. Amy felt as if she was moving through a fog. She was so tired and nothing seemed to matter anymore. She just let the kind stranger do what he wished. She felt cherished as she hadn’t for many months since her family had died.
“Doris, call for some food for Amy please,” he instructed his secretary as she entered the room. “I don’t think she’s eaten for a while. Right, Amy?” Amy slowly shook her head no. She curled up on the large man’s lap, so thankful for the human compassion she was being shown. His arms came up to encircle her and she felt a kiss on her drying hair. Amy suddenly felt like someone in her very lonely world would protect her.
“I’ll take care of you, Amy. You’re in a good place now. I’ve been looking for a Little girl to take care of for a long time, Amy.” He caressed her back and shoulders. “Will you let me care for you for a while, Amy?” he questioned moving her back slightly so he could see her eyes. Amy, overwhelmed by someone treating her with kindness when it seemed her life was collapsing around her, nodded slowly as she made eye contact shyly. At her nod, Mr. Smythe tucked her head back on to his shoulder and just held her tightly.
Doris slipped quietly into the room bringing with her a large wooden chair with a tray attached to the front and placed it next to a large conference table in the office. Mr. Smythe stood, carrying Amy over to the chair and placing Amy in it after Doris removed the tray. Doris quickly slid the tray into place and Amy heard it click into place. “How weird,” thought Amy. “It’s almost like a child’s high chair but sized to fit an adult.” She attempted to slide the tray away from her stomach only to have her hand firmly removed and Mr. Smythe said “No!” very sharply. Amy sat back in the high chair startled by his reaction. “I want you to be a good little girl, Amy. Just let me care for you.”
Doris carried in a steaming bowl of soup that smelled delicious and placed it on the conference table. Mr. Smythe sat in a tall chair at the table and picked up the spoon. He blew gently on the warm soup and held it to Amy’s lips. “Open up, sweetheart. I know you’re hungry.” When Amy reached for the spoon to feed herself, her hand was firmly pressed back to the top of the high chair. “You’re too tired to feed yourself, Amy. Open up.” Amy was so hungry she didn’t protest but just opened her mouth and let him spoon feed her the yummy soup. It was so good. She took another bite and another. Soon the whole bowl was gone and her stomach protruded slightly. That had to be the best soup she’d ever eaten.
Placing the spoon back in the bowl on the table, Mr. Smythe caressed her full abdomen. “You were really hungry, Amy. Does your tummy feel better now?” he questioned as he rubbed back and forth. “I bet you could take a nap now. Are you sleepy?” When Amy yawned in response, he did something to the tray of the high chair to release it. Setting it aside, he again picked Amy up in his arms and cradled her against his body with her head on his broad shoulder.
“I’m too heavy for you to carry!” Amy protested. “I can walk,” she said struggling to get down. Again, a single sharp smack rang out as Mr. Smythe corrected Amy with a spank to her plump bottom. Stinging her bottom, Amy froze.
“I thought we agreed that I’d take care of you, Amy. Now, let me do so. You are such a little girl that you don’t weigh anything. Little girls don’t walk by themselves. Their daddies carry them. Now, let’s get you to bed before you do anything else naughty because you’re so tired.” With those words, he strode from the office, down a hall into a private elevator and the car began to move slowly up. One of his supporting hands slipped under her nightie and began to caress her bare bottom. “Are you sore, Amy?” he questioned. Embarrassed, she shook her head no against his shoulder. “I’m glad I’ve figured out how to get your attention, Amy. I hope I won’t have to spank you in the future. You’re going to be a good baby, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” Amy promised quietly. “I’ll be good.”
As the doors opened, Amy lifted her head to see that they were entering a large, beautifully decorated but comfortably lived in, apartment. “Welcome to my home, Amy,” Mr. Smythe rumbled in his low voice. “I hope you’ll stay with me for a long time. Let’s go to your new room.” He entered a doorway to a room designed for a princess. All pink paint and frilly curtains, it had several curiously-designed pieces of furniture that looked like an adult-sized changing table, crib, and rocking chair. He carried her over to the changing table and laid her down on her back. “Let’s get you ready for a nap, sweetie.” He clasped her ankles and lifted her bottom off the table, sweeping the flannel nightie up to her waist.
Amy shivered as the cool air surrounded the bottom half of her body. She continued to be surprised as Mr. Smythe turned her gently over on her side with her knees bent up toward her waist facing away the wall. There was a brightly colored butterfly right in front of her. Mr. Smythe wrapped a belt tightly across her midsection and tethered her to the surface of the changing table. “Let’s make sure you haven’t made yourself sick standing out there in the rain.” She heard a drawer below her slide open and from the periphery of her vision, she saw him shake down what looked to be an oversized thermometer. She heard a lid opening. “Keep your eyes on the butterfly, Amy, and relax your bottom. I’m going to check your temperature and make sure you don’t have a fever.”
Amy felt him separate the cheeks of her bottom and expose her clenched anus. “No,” she wailed as he slid the cold thermometer into her rectum. She tried to turn over but he had her firmly restrained on her side. “Stop struggling, Amy. I’m just checking your temperature like any good daddy would do for his Little girl. You need to let me take care of you.” One large hand held the thermometer in place firmly while the other rubbed her bottom soothingly.
“I can hold the thermometer in my mouth,” Amy protested.
“Oh, no! You’re way too worn out for that.” He soothed her with a low tone. Mr. Smythe held the thermometer inside her for what seemed like 10 minutes before removing it and checking the results. “You’ve got a little fever, Amy. I’m not surprised. I’m going to give you some cold medicine and we’ll see if that brings down your temperature.” She heard the drawer open again and the rustle of wrapping being removed. Again, she felt her bottom being spread wide and a cold, slippery object pressed against her anus. “Just relax, Amy. I’m going to put some medicine in you. It will go in much easier if you relax your bottom.” Mr. Smythe firmly pressed the suppository again her anus and, even though Amy was clenching her muscles to keep his finger out, he slid the medicine into her rectum as far as he could reach. “You’re being naughty, Amy. I’ll have to hold this medicine inside you until it melts now because I know you’ll try to push it out. Relax, Amy. Let me take care of you, okay?”
Amy started to cry. Humiliated by lying half naked on the table with his large finger firmly inserted in her rectum, she felt mortified. Mr. Smythe didn’t say anything but rubbed her back and legs shushing her. His finger moved around inside her every once in a while, smoothing the dissolving medicine around all the tissues inside her. Amy started to feel very relaxed. The medicine was beginning to take effect and it felt good. Yawning deeply, Amy started to drift to sleep. She felt Mr. Smythe’s finger leave her body. She heard him step away from the table and wash his hands. She was turned over on her back and her legs lifted again. An adult-size diaper was placed underneath her and it crinkled as he secured it around her chubby body. She was lifted and placed in the crib. A pacifier dipped into a small jar of golden honey was pressed to her lips and, as
Amy started to drift into sleep, Mr. Smythe turned on a baby monitor and stepped from the room closing the door behind him.
Chapter Two
Amy awoke several hours later. She pulled the pacifier from her mouth, dropping it to the mattress as she pushed herself to sit up. Looking around the cheerfully decorated room, Amy was amazed that she had not dreamed all of this. She was actually in a crib wearing a diaper and nightie. She’d slept better than she had for many days. Now, she needed to get up and use the bathroom. She ran her hand over the railing of the crib trying to figure out how to lower it. Amy couldn’t figure it out. It remained stubbornly up. She rattled the railing impatiently. She really needed to go to the bathroom or she was going to have an accident.
“Amy, are you awake, sweetheart?” She heard Mr. Smythe question as he opened the door. His eyes lit up to see her up and alert in the crib. He leaned over the railing to question, “Are you feeling better after your nap?”
