Nurturing Britney (Surrender Book 7) Read online

  Chapter 24

  Britney

  I’m in deep concentration when Daddy’s hand lands on my back. I jerk my gaze up from the thick instruction book and smile at him. I immediately point at what I’ve accomplished. “Look. I got the base done.”

  He leans over and inspects it. “You sure did. It’s going to be big.”

  “Yep. There are a lot of pieces.” I point at the clear bags all over the table. “I didn’t drop any on the floor either,” I announce.

  “Good girl. That’s enough for today.”

  “Aw… Has it been two hours already?”

  “Yes.” He takes my chin. “And I suggest you not whine when I tell you to do something, or you’ll find yourself over my knee.”

  “Yes, Sir.” I swallow. I know he’s serious.

  He lifts me off my seat and sets me on my feet. “Let’s get some fresh air. You’ve been inside for days.” With a hand between my shoulder blades, he leads me to the back door.

  I find I’m kind of excited, partly because he’s right. I haven’t been out of the house since I got here Thursday night. But also because I’ve stared out the row of back windows several times wishing I could explore his yard.

  He opens the back door and lets me pass through first. As soon as we’re outside, I head for the yard. His landscaping is amazing and I want to wander around on the little path that leads to the birdbath in the far corner.

  Davis grabs my hand and pulls me to a stop though. His arm snakes around me, settling under my breasts, and he pulls my back against his front. He leans over my shoulder and meets my gaze. “Two rules.”

  I bite my lip. Why am I not surprised? He has rules for everything.

  “You’re not permitted to unlock or open the back door for any reason if I’m not with you. And for now, I don’t want you to leave the patio. You’ll stay where I can see you at all times, and even though my backyard is very private with a seven-foot wall, I’m not taking any chances of anyone seeing you.”

  “Yes, Sir.” It’s amazing how living with him I often forget I’m in hiding. Or maybe I force it to the back of my mind because it’s too much to process. Perhaps I’m hiding behind this new side of myself in order to avoid reality. That thought scares me too. Even though I’m happier than I’ve ever been, what if this life ultimately isn’t for me? I don’t want to lose Davis.

  He turns me toward the far end of the covered patio. “I have a porch swing though. Would you like to sit on it with me?”

  I smile up at him. “Yes, please.”

  He takes my hand and leads me to the swing. It has thick cushions, and after he sits on one end, I climb up next to him. He wraps his arm around me and pulls me against his side.

  I tuck my feet up under me and sigh against his chest as he pushes us gently forward and backward. His hand around me settles against my belly, and he absently strokes his thumb against the underside of my boob. If it weren’t for that tiny motion making my body tingle with arousal, I might fall asleep.

  I tip my head back and look at him. “Can I use your gym equipment, Sir?”

  His brow furrows. “Sure, but not by yourself. You should stay out of that room unless I’m there to supervise you, sweet girl.”

  I wiggle against him, wondering if he has any clue how absurdly horny I get when he speaks to me as if I’m five. He’s done so twice in just a few minutes. Once to tell me not to come outside alone and now to insinuate I’m not old enough to lift weights on my own. It’s silly. It’s sexy.

  “What did you have in mind?”

  “Well, I haven’t gone this long without some kind of workout in over a year. I was a dancer, you know. I couldn’t do that without three days of weight training a week and at least three days of cardio.”

  He squeezes me tighter against him, his thumb still stroking maddeningly against my breast. I’m fighting hard to concentrate on our conversation and sit still.

  “Okay. We can set you up with a routine. I usually work out early in the morning. You’d have to get up with me at the same time.”

  I nod. I’m not a morning person usually, but it’s better than nothing. “Okay, Sir.”

  He kisses my forehead. “I don’t want you not getting enough sleep though. If you start getting tired or crabby during the day, I’ll move your bedtime earlier or you’ll have to start taking a nap after lunch.”

  “I won’t get crabby, Daddy,” I promise him.

  “We’ll see. Tomorrow I’ll wake you up when I go into the gym.”

  I smile. “Thank you, Sir.” I snuggle into his side and close my eyes. It’s so pleasant out here. I can hear the birds and an occasional car, but we’re far enough from the main roads to block out the sounds of traffic. My apartment isn’t nearly as quiet as this. Not ever. Especially when I’m trying to sleep during the day before my shift at the Sky Lounge. That’s probably why I’ve slept so well since I got here.

  “Would you like me to invite another little girl over so you can meet her, sweetie? Do you think you’re ready for that?”

  I think about that for a moment. Will I be embarrassed? Maybe at first. But if she’s little too, then maybe it will be okay. “I think that would be nice, Sir.”

  “Good. I’m going to call her Daddy, Master Roman, and set something up. Master Roman owns the club I was telling you about, Surrender.”

  “What’s her name?”

  “Lucy.”

  “How long has she been Master Roman’s little girl?”

  “Almost six years. For the first three years, she was a full-time little. The only time she broke from that space was to attend classes while she went to college. After she graduated, she got a grown-up job. So now, she spends nine hours a day as an adult and all the rest of her time as Master Roman’s little girl.”

  “That’s a long time,” I murmur.

  He stiffens for just a split second, but I notice it and remember what he told me about Collette not wanting to be his full-time little anymore and they broke up.

  I lean my cheek against Davis’s shoulder and try to picture the future. It’s impossible. I’m so happy right now. Happier than I’ve ever been. But can I live like this forever? I don’t know. It feels like I’m pretending all the time. Using this dynamic to escape my problems and recreate my childhood.

  I’m certain Davis would say there’s nothing wrong with that, and I agree to some extent, but how long can I pretend I’m a little girl and avoid all adult responsibilities? I don’t have the answers.

  “I’ll see if they can come over tomorrow night after work. Would you like that?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  He reaches for my pigtail with his free hand and strokes up and down the length of it across his lap. It feels good. It’s like two different sensations are bombarding me. The soothing tug on my pigtail every time he runs his fingers through it and the slowly growing arousal from the way he’s teasing the sensitive skin under my breast.

  We swing in silence for a while, and his thumb gradually migrates closer and closer to my nipple. I stay as still as possible, feigning indifference, though I’m sure he knows. I will him to close the distance and touch my nipple. The hardened bud is rubbing against my cotton dress.

  My panties are wet, and no matter how hard I squeeze my thighs together, nothing stops the growing need between my legs. My dress is disheveled and not even covering my bottom. The only thing between me and the cushion is my wet panties. I’m sure if anyone could see they would think I peed myself. I’m that wet.

  All of my focus is on Davis’s thumb, easing back and forth, hitting the edge of my areola now, but not the tip. I need him to touch my little nipple so badly, but I won’t tell him this. I’m not that bold, and I’d be humiliated if he turned me down. I’m certain his every move is calculated. If he wanted to touch my nipple he would. He knows I’m hot and bothered.

  The change is infinitesimal as he comes so close to my tender bud. I hold my breath for the last few strokes, anticipating the moment he will g
ive me what I crave so badly.

  Three things happen nearly simultaneously. Davis finally flicks the edge of my nipple, I whimper out loud, and I’m suddenly lifted off the chair and set on my feet.

  I sway, unable to convince my legs to hold me up. I’m sure my eyes are wide. “Sir?”

  “Time to go in, sweet girl. We need to see about dinner, and then you need to get to bed earlier if you’re going to join me in the gym in the morning.”

  My mouth is dry. I’m so aroused I can’t think. My nipples feel like they are going to poke through the front of my dress. My pussy is pulsing.

  The world is spinning out of control as Davis stands and takes my hand. “Ready?”

  I’m not at all sure I can walk, but I nod and force my legs to move.

  When we get inside, Davis leads me to the island. When we get to my usual stool, he comes around behind me, pulls my back against him, and flattens a palm on my belly. He slowly slides his hand downward until he reaches the hem of my dress. He gathers it up out of his way and then cups my pussy.

  I gasp and rise onto my toes as he palms me, pressing my soaked panties against my clit. He grinds his hand there for several seconds while I imagine myself coming at any moment. He releases my pussy right before I’m certain I would have orgasmed. His lips come to my ear. “How do you like being my little girl so far, sweetie?”

  I can’t breathe, but I somehow manage to respond. “I love it, Daddy.”

  Chapter 25

  Britney

  It’s still dark when Davis sits on the edge of my bed and rubs my back. “Hey, sleepyhead,” he whispers. “You going to join me in the gym?”

  I groan as I blink my eyes open.

  He chuckles. “I don’t think my little girl is a morning person.”

  I struggle to roll over, brushing my hair from my face.

  “Up and at ’em, sweet girl.” He pulls my covers down, and I don’t even care that my nightie is not covering my bottom. He’s seen every inch of me.

  I close my eyes again, remembering how he stroked me back to full arousal in the tub last night and then the way he teased my breasts before parting my thighs and rubbing my clit until I cried out from the orgasm that had been building for hours.

  I’m smiling when Davis swats my bottom. “This was your idea, sweet girl. I’m going to give you about five seconds to get to your feet and then I’m going to spank your bottom hard enough to bring you fully awake.”

  I jerk my eyes open and scramble out from under the covers. I’m swaying as I stand before him, a little lightheaded from moving so fast.

  “Good girl.” He pulls my nightgown over my head and then leans down in front of me. When he taps my ankle. I realize I’m supposed to step into my panties.

  It’s not until I’ve stepped in with both feet and he’s pulling them up my legs that I realize it’s not panties. I glance down to see black spandex shorts. He pulls them over my hips and pats my bottom. “Perfect fit.”

  I’m not sure I agree. They are tight and very short. My cheeks are barely covered and without panties, the seam is between my labia.

  “Arms up.”

  Luckily, I’ve regained some equilibrium and manage to release his shoulders to lift my arms.

  I’m not sure why I didn’t consider this part of asking to work out. I hadn’t thought about what he might have me wear. The shirt he’s now tugging down over my breasts is a tiny, tight, pink tank top. It would be too revealing for the beach, especially in combination with the tight shorts. It reaches my shorts but it hugs my breasts and nipples tight enough to leave nothing to the imagination.

  I can’t imagine working out without a sports bra, especially jogging. Lucky for me, it’s not entirely necessary. My boobs are small, super-small compared to the ones I’m used to seeing on dancers at the club. Apparently, I didn’t get much breast tissue in the genetic gene pool.

  The fact that a bra isn’t strictly necessary doesn’t change the fact that I’m used to wearing one and I feel oddly naked and exposed in this shirt.

  I decide to speak up. “I’m not sure I can jog without a sports bra, Sir.”

  He slides his hands up so that once again his thumbs are grazing the underside of my boobs. “I’m equally unsure how I’m going to work out with these sweet little titties teasing me from across the room. However, hard rule. We can negotiate when we leave the house, but when you’re inside, you’re my little girl, too young for bras. Not even while working out. Take it or leave it.”

  I sigh. “Okay.”

  He stands and heads for my bathroom.

  I follow and find him holding my brush. He arranges me in front of him and takes a few minutes to brush out the tangles before dividing my hair into three groups and deftly braiding it down my back. “There. That will keep it out of your way. I’m going to grab us some water. Use the potty, sweetie, and meet me in the workout room.”

  I hurry to pee and wash my hands and splash my face and then rush to find Davis. When I arrive, he hands me a pair of brand-new sneakers and ankle socks. Both are pink and I smile as I sit down to put them on, wondering how the hell he always manages to have exactly what I need within hours of me needing it.

  “Do you want to start out on the treadmill, sweet girl?”

  I nod and head over to where he’s standing.

  “Climb on. Let me show you how it works. I’ll start it for you, and you can increase the speed.”

  “Yes, Sir.” I step onto it. I’ve used one of these before. It’s not rocket science. Lucky for me there’s a small workout room in the basement of my apartment building. It doesn’t have much, but it’s free, and it works.

  Davis pushes a few buttons and points out several others, and then as it starts, he leaves me to adjust it and climbs onto the elliptical. He’s across from me, watching me. It’s unnerving and it’s about to get worse.

  At first, I start out walking, picking up the pace for the next three minutes. It’s not enough. I need to jog. I’m used to jogging three miles. I’m going to have to get over my lack of bra and go for it.

  I turn up the speed and start to jog. Oh, yeah. It’s weird. My boobs are small, but they’re bouncing. Every step causes them to lift and fall, my nipples rubbing the front of my tank top.

  I try to adjust by tugging down my shirt and then supporting my boobs with my forearms.

  I gasp when Davis clears his throat. “Stop worrying about your tits, sweetie. They’re fine. Keep your hands away from them. They aren’t so large that you need support. It’s all in your head.”

  I flush as I drop my hands and try hard to focus on something else, but when I lift my gaze, I see that the entire wall across from me is a mirror. Great. Now I’m watching my boobs bounce up and down with every step.

  I’m starting to doubt this workout idea. Maybe I should have just let myself get flabby and out of shape. It’s not like I’m going to return to dancing at strip clubs. As job prospects are concerned, it’s one I’m at least qualified for. However, I’m probably blacklisted now. My boss would’ve told every club owner in the tristate area to call him if I ever came in looking for a job.

  I almost laugh as I think about what Davis would say if I told him I was going to start stripping again. When I glance at him, he’s eyeing me suspiciously. “Do I even want to know what you’re thinking, Britney?”

  “No, Sir.” I keep jogging, increasing the pace while consciously keeping my arms swinging normally at my sides. As I watch myself in the mirror, I decide he’s mostly right. My tits are bouncing but not as much as they are in my mind. They’re pert. My nipples are hard points that I imagine must look quite sexy to Davis.

  And indeed, when I look at him again, I find him staring at my body. He’s working hard on the elliptical but not as hard as is warranted for his heavy breathing.

  I could work this. The man loves my boobs. This information could come in handy if I ever need something to use as manipulative leverage.

  When I finish my three miles, I t
urn off the machine and decide to test my theory. I start stretching, bending in every direction but mostly with my arms high so I can lean back and forth, making sure I’m always facing him, my tits on full display.

  Davis finishes on the elliptical a few minutes later. He turns it off so casually that I’m not sure he even noticed my tempting display. A moment later, I reconsider because he stalks toward me, sets his hands on my waist, runs his palms up my body, and cups my breasts.

  I gasp when he thumbs my nipples, but then he pinches them hard, and I yelp.

  “I do believe my sweet girl has decided to give me a teasing little show right here in the gym.”

  I whimper as I drop my arms to my sides.

  He pinches my nipples again, harder this time. It hurts, but arousal shoots to my pussy at the same time.

  “As sexy as you are, sweet girl, I won’t permit you to manipulate me with your body.” Another pinch, pulling me closer by the nipples.

  I shuffle forward until we’re touching. “I’m sorry, Sir,” I whisper.

  “You’ll wear what you’re told under my roof, and remember you’re always in your little space unless I say otherwise. That means you behave appropriately for a little girl. When I remove your clothes and make your body hum for me, then you can be Britney the adult, but you don’t get to choose when that happens.”

  “Yes, Sir.” I’m whimpering now. And so very aroused.

  He releases my nipples, takes my hand, and leads me to the weight bench. Without a word, he sits and brings me to one side of him. Before I can wrap my head around his intention, he lowers me over his lap. His hand goes to my shorts and tugs them down to my knees so fast that I’m reeling from shock.

  He grabs both my hands and brings them to my lower back. After clasping my wrists in one of his, he palms my naked bottom. “I told you I would spank you when you misbehave. I’d say you were a very naughty girl. Wouldn’t you?”