After helping her down, "Daddy" led Kelly back to the bathroom where he tested the water first. "It's warm, but I think you'll find the temperature acceptable. You may check it, if you wish."

Kelly dipped her fingers in. The bubbly liquid was silky and hot, but not overly so, so she nodded. He turned the spigot to stop the flow then helped her into the tub.

"You are never to climb in or out of the bathtub unless Daddy is here to assist you."

"May I take a shower?"

"No. Little girls only take baths. Should you disobey me in this, you will be spanked. Understand?"

Unfortunately, she was starting to get the picture. "Yes… Daddy."

He nodded. "Good girl. I expect you will slip up from time to time, and I will correct you if you make a mistake. Using the wrong honorific isn't punishable as long as you use either of the two I've allowed you."

Kelly was beginning to think she'd never remember all these rules when her daddy started to bathe her. Actually, what he did was closer to scrubbing than washing. At one point, after he'd slipped the soapy washcloth between her legs, he scoured her with a touch more force, until it burned.

"Oww, Daddy! That hurts, please don't."

She thought he'd apologize, but he scowled at her instead. "You were a very dirty little girl, Kelly. I regret the need for Daddy to rub your tender flesh so harshly, but you can't go to bed with the filth of the street still on you, so I must be unusually rough."

That scared her a little, so she tensed her thighs against him. She totally didn't expect him to pull her halfway out of the tub and spank her when she did.

"I warned you never to close off any part of your body to your daddy. Do that again, and Daddy will be forced to take a paddle to your bottom."

Surprised and hurting, Kelly found herself whimpering in protest. She never cried, not since the night her parents were murdered, but her eyes grew unexpectedly damp as she wailed like the child he wanted her to be. "I'm sorry, Daddy. I won't do it again. I promise," she begged, hoping he would stop, but he kept at until she imagined her behind catching fire.

"You were a bad, bad girl, Kelly. So, Daddy has to be especially strict with you tonight. You need to learn this lesson," he insisted, not slowing down one bit.

"I have. I promise, Daddy. I'll never pull away from you again, even when you hurt me."

He gave her three more hard swats before he eased her back into the bath. Kelly cried out again as the heated water and soap suds burned her very sore bottom. "Ow. Oww. It hurts, Daddy," she pleaded, struggling to get up, but he held her in place with a frown.

Tears still streamed down her cheeks as she gazed at him. But the moment she stopped resisting, he released her, crouched at the side of the tub, and simply glowered at her.

"What do you say to me," he asked sternly.

"I'm sorry, Daddy," she whimpered, but he shook his head. That wasn't what he wanted or expected from her. She tried to think, but her bottom hurt, and she couldn't remember what he'd told her.

He touched her chin. "Look at me, Kelly." She didn't hesitate to obey him this time, though her lower lip quivered in response to his scowl. Then, he surprised her once again, this time by giving her a warm smile.

"Is Daddy's little girl really sore?" he asked, his voice soft and gentle.

Unnerved by the sudden change, Kelly sniffed and nodded.

"Is Kelly sorry for what she did that made it necessary for Daddy to punish her?"

"Yes, Daddy," she parroted back, beginning to understand.

"Is Kelly grateful her daddy takes such excellent care of her that he punishes her when she's been bad, even though it hurts him to do so?"

Another nod. "Yes, Daddy."

"What do little girls say when they are grateful?"

Now she realized exactly what he wanted. He'd punished her, and he expected her to express appreciation for his attention. "Thank you, Daddy."

"That's my girl," he whispered, leaning forward to place a kiss on her forehead.

Kelly sat still and tried not to complain when he rubbed a little too hard, but she did wince occasionally. He was watching, and would gentle his strokes whenever she scrunched her eyes together, so he wasn't entirely insensitive to her discomfort. He insisted on shaving her armpits in the tub as well, but again took special care not to nick her. Once her bath was finished, he emptied the water and used the handheld spray head to wash her hair, adding bubblegum-scented cream rinse after all the soap was out.

Kelly had to admit she was a lot cleaner than she'd been for a long time, but, hopefully, future baths wouldn't be quite so torturous. After Daddy helped her out of the bathtub, he wrapped her in a fluffy bath towel and made her sit in a small chair stationed by the toilet while he eased a comb through her clean, but tangled hair.

She didn't attempt to pull away when he snagged a snarl, but she did let out a tiny whimper when he tugged. Whenever she did that, he would take care to hold the section in a way that wouldn't yank at her scalp. So she suspected he didn't enjoy hurting her outside of spankings.

Once the comb flowed smoothly through her hair, he plugged in a portable hair dryer and blew warm air on her head as he continued to brush. The experience was sort of like going to the beauty parlor where the beautician became very strict with you if you squirmed or complained. When he decided it was dry, Kelly's new caretaker gathered her shiny, blonde hair into pigtails, tied each one off with a perky pink bow, and stepped back.

"You're truly lovely, Kelly." As he lifted her into his arms, Kelly caught her reflection in the mirror and had difficulty recognizing the little girl staring back at her. She hadn't looked this young since she was six. Without thinking, she stuck her tongue out then smiled when the bratty creature did the same thing, causing the man holding her to chuckle and say, "Cute, but I suggest you never do that to Daddy." He carried her back into the pink palace. "Now, let's put on your jammies. Rummaging in a chest of drawers, he chose a pink, frilly baby doll complete with matching lace panties and helped her into them. It was early yet, not quite ten o'clock according to Kelly's inner calculations.

"Daddy kept you up very late tonight, so he'll let you sleep in tomorrow morning." Kelly promptly glanced about her but saw no clock in the room. Yeah, if little girls couldn't wear watches, it seemed they didn't get clocks, either. They probably couldn't tell time anyway.

"Bedtime should be nine o'clock sharp," he added, and Kelly gaped at him. She hadn't gone to bed at nine o'clock since she was seven years old.

"Little girls need a lot of rest," he told her by way of an explanation.

Yikes. Her life was going to be very different here.

"Okay. Beddy-bye time," he announced, helping her up on the mattress that rested nearly four feet above the plush carpet. Even when she sat on the very edge of the bed, Kelly's feet dangled more than a foot off the floor, which made her feel even more like a little girl. He placed a hand on her thighs. "Did you say your prayers?" he asked patiently.

When would she have had time to do that? "No, Daddy," she answered softly.

"Well, you can say them from bed this time, but, in the future, I want you down on your knees when you pray. Go on. Daddy will listen while you say them."

What the fuck did he expect her to say? Shrugging, she recited a prayer from her childhood. "Now I lay me down to sleep…" Believing her task finished, she frowned when he gave her a significant look.

Crap. Now what?

"Who do you bless at the end?"

Okay, fine. She could do this. "God bless Daddy, who takes very excellent care of me."

He nodded. Phew, she got that one right, at least. "Scoot under the covers."

She did as she was told then gazed up at him.

"Do you need a nighty-night rub, tonight?"

Shit. What fresh hell is this?

"That's where Daddy rubs between Kelly's legs until she gives out a little cry of pleasure. Afterward, all she wants to do is lie back and go to sleep."

Oh. A bit kinky, perhaps, but not unheard of, given their situation, she supposed. "No, thank you, Daddy. I'm fine."

"Sure? Daddy wouldn't mind at all if his little girl needs some extra help, tonight."

"Maybe tomorrow night, Daddy. I'm still a tiny bit sore."

"Yes, you were a very naughty girl earlier, weren't you? Daddy shouldn't reward bad little girls with nighty-night rubs. Those are only for good girls who deserve a treat."

Kelly closed her eyes. One month. The man was undoubtedly certifiable, and she had to spend a month as his daughter. Who knew what sort of hell awaited her tomorrow.

Graham White bent over to place a kiss on Kelly's forehead. "Sleep well, sweetheart," he murmured, pushing a control that raised the ornate scrollwork decorating both sides of her bed until they had effectively confined Kelly inside a girly prison of metal curlicues.

He had locked her in what was essentially a pink-and-gold cell. A huge, twin-sized, carriage-shaped cage. Kelly jerked up.

"What is it, darling one?" he asked with a trace of concern.

She began to hyperventilate. He was imprisoning her. Frantically looking about for an escape, Kelly fought not to scream. She'd been shut up in the closet all over again.

"I can't get out," she stated breathlessly, gazing at him in a panic. He touched a button near the headboard, and the brass circles slid soundlessly down. Sitting on the mattress beside her, he drew her into his arms.

"Shh, sweetie. The sides aren't locked. You can press that switch to lower them yourself whenever you want. Do they still scare you, little one?"

She nodded, dismayed she'd started to cry. He wrapped her in his strong embrace and whispered soothing words as he gently rocked her. Then, as if the dam had burst, Kelly sobbed from deep in her chest. She clung to the neck of the man holding her as though his comforting was the only thing keeping her sane.

"Go ahead, sweetie. You have a nice, long cry if you need one. Things have been very difficult for you lately, haven't they?"

"I hated being so alone," she admitted. "I was so scared."

"I know, babygirl. But you're safe, now. Daddy won't let anyone or anything hurt you ever again." Kelly must have cried for over five minutes while her savior rubbed her back and comforted her. "Shh, sweetie, you'll make yourself sick if you don't stop soon. Daddy never imagined the carriage sides would trigger your fear, pumpkin. They're solely intended for your protection, not to lock you in. Not at all. Daddy just doesn't want his little girl falling in her sleep."

Willing to do anything to avoid being caged in, Kelly tightened her hold and hung onto him for dear life as she sobbed against his neck. His arms cradled her protectively as he whispered nonsense words intended to soothe her.

When she was finally able to talk again, Kelly said, "No rails, Daddy. Please, no rails."

He stroked her hair and hugged her close.

"Shh. It's all right, my darling one. Daddy understands. No rails tonight. But I don't want you getting out of bed on your own. I expect you to call out if you need anything after you're put to bed." He pointed to a white, plastic device attached to the headboard of her bed. "All you have to do is say 'Daddy.' I can hear you from any room in the apartment, and I will come as soon as I can. That monitor will pick up every sound you make."

Kelly nodded. She didn't care. If not having those high, ornate sides raised meant he listened in, that was fine with her.

He continued to rock and soothe her with light rubs and soft words until her sobs were reduced to shuddering sighs and she closed her eyes.

"That's my good girl. All better?"

At her nod, he laid her down, covered her up, pressed another kiss to the forehead then, rising, he turned down her Princess Ariana nightlight so it cast a mellow glow and stepped quietly from the room, bringing her door within an inch of its frame. The small crack allowed a reassuring stream of light to pour in from the hallway.

As Kelly lay in the dark, she realized though his requirements might be unusual, as long as she followed his rules, this man intended to treat her like a precious little princess. After the torturous bath and spanking, he'd been careful not to hurt her. And when he held her in his arms, she imagined herself safe and protected in a way that allowed her to give vent to all the riotous emotions roiling inside her. She didn't fully understand why, but she hadn't felt so cherished or wanted since she was six years old.