When Daisy awoke, she was underneath the soft covers of Papa’s bed. She yawned and stretched, then rolled over and peered toward the window. Darkness had fallen, and she wondered about the time of day. Was it late in the evening? Or was it almost morning?

She glanced around Papa’s huge bedchamber. He was nowhere to be seen, though she thought she heard footfalls nearing from outside the door. Though she didn’t usually like being alone, she didn’t feel scared in Papa’s bedchamber. She was in her new home now and nothing here would hurt her. The prospect of leaving Talcott House had always left her a little nervous…that was, until she had met Lord Kensington and now he was her husband and papa.

She sat up against the pillows and shifted uncomfortably in place. Her bottom was still quite sore from her spanking. A flush rushed through her as the memories of everything she had experienced in Papa’s bedchamber since her arrival paraded through her mind. First the lovemaking—oh that had been wonderful and she hoped to engage in such carnal merriment soon again. Then her naughtiness and her embarrassing trip over Papa’s knee. Not only had he spanked her behind cheeks, but he’d pulled her bottom wide apart and swatted her hiney hole—five smacks on that most private part of her, to be exact.

Not for the first time since she’d gotten married, she was starting to feel feverish. Heated pulses were quickening between her thighs as well, and for a few moments she considered rubbing her clitty. She started to lift up the covers to peer at her nakedness as she spread her thighs, her temptation growing along with her arousal.

She had never pleasured herself before, but she supposed she could mimic her Papa’s masterful touch if she spread her moisture over her hardened nubbin and then…

No no no, she scolded herself. Stop thinking about it. You don’t want another spanking, do you?

She hastily covered herself back up. She knew touching her kitty wasn’t a good idea, even if her clitty was aching. Papa had told her in the carriage that her privates belonged to him. She didn’t want to break any of his rules again, especially so soon after the first—and hopefully, the only—punishment she’d received at his hand.

The footsteps grew louder and the door opened. She heard voices for a moment but then was surprised to see a fully dressed Papa enter with a huge tray containing two covered plates and other refreshments. She saw a glimpse of an arm in the doorway as a servant pulled the door shut, as Papa had his hands quite full. She perked up at the sight of the bottle of wine on the tray, next to two wine glasses. She’d only once stolen a few sips of alcohol from a decanter in her mother’s former employer’s grand home. She remembered her throat burning and how naughty and excited she’d felt while swiping the forbidden drink. But now, even though she was Papa’s little girl, she was pleased to realize he was apparently going to allow her to share in his grown-up drink.

He smiled at her and set the tray on a table, beckoning her over with a wave of his hand. “Come, my sleepy wife, I know you must be famished.” He paused and gave her a bold look as he uncovered the plates and arranged them on the table. “I imagine you must have worked up quite the appetite, in fact, my responsive little bride.”

His words made her flush with pleasure. She crawled out from under the warm covers and approached the table Papa was setting, still wearing his dressing gown. As she took her seat with his assistance, her stomach gave a loud growl.

“It appears I have arrived just in time,” he said with a chuckle.

“Very funny, Papa. As I told you, Miss Wickersham would not allow me to finish my breakfast and I’ve been up since before sunrise.”

“Ah, and to think,” he said as he took his own seat directly across from her, “if you had been a good little girl this morning and not run off to the fair—against your guardian’s orders—you could have enjoyed a filling, relaxing breakfast rather than have your bottom smacked with a hairbrush. It was a hairbrush she used on you, is that right, instead of the ruler?”

She shot her papa a saucy smirk before she placed a napkin on her lap and picked up her fork, eyeing the scrumptious food. Baked ham and potatoes, vegetables, and a sauce drizzled over everything in a swirling pattern. She’d never seen a plate of food so artistic—and delicious looking—in her entire life. Even when she had lived at…

But no. She would not even think of that place. She had to pretend that house did not exist. She wanted her papa to be proud of her and she wanted them to stay married happily forever and ever. If he found out the truth—about where she’d grown up—it would only lead to more questions. The more questions he asked, the closer he might come to discovering the God-awful truth she desperately wished to conceal from him.

She was born an illegitimate child.

Though her mother had once told her fanciful, romantic tales, about Daisy’s supposed father—who her mother had claimed was the man she was once married to—as Daisy grew up she had started to suspect that though her mother had once been married to a man named John, this John fellow hadn’t actually sired her. And then, as her mother struggled for her final breaths on her deathbed, the full truth had come pouring out. Daisy closed her eyes as memories from long ago washed over her…

“Mama, you must try to drink some more broth. It will help you get better soon.” Daisy sat on the side of her mother’s bed, holding a spoon and the bowl of sustenance. A cold ball of desperation formed in her stomach and fear clutched her heart. Mama looked paler today than she had the day before. There was an odd rattling noise when she breathed as well. Tears sprang to Daisy’s eyes.

Mama appeared to be struggling to keep her eyes open. Daisy sat the soup aside and reached for her mama’s hand.

“Oh, Mama.” Daisy sniffled, tears rolling down her face. “Mama, I love you, please don’t leave. You can get better. I know you can. I’ll nurse you back to health no matter how long it takes.”

“My sweet daughter,” Mama whispered so lowly Daisy almost didn’t hear her.

“Yes, Mama? Do you need something?” Daisy leaned closer to better hear whatever her mother said.

“In case I don’t survive this illness, there is something I must tell you.”

“No, Mama, no. You will survive. Don’t talk like that. I promise you will survive this.” Grief and heartache made it difficult to breath. Daisy had never felt so hopeless and choked up before in her life. It seemed as if her entire world was about to come crashing down and there was nothing she could do to stop it. She’d spent the last two weeks by her mother’s side, trying to help her. A physician had visited several times, but the man claimed naught could be done other than for her mama to get rest and consume plenty of fluids. But rest and broth weren’t helping. Mama kept getting worse and worse and the household servants were already looking upon Daisy with pity, as if her mother had already passed away.

“Listen to me, sweet daughter. I must tell you this. I should have told you long ago, but I was a coward. Please forgive me.”

“Oh, Mama, you could never be a coward and of course I shall forgive you, whatever it is I will hold no grudge against you, I swear it.” Suddenly a thought struck Daisy, a dark suspicion taking form, and she knew what her mother was going to say even before she said it. She steeled herself to hear the terrible truth she’d already feared for quite some time—her suspicions first arising when she’d overheard some curious gossip between two of the laundry maids about how Daisy’s eyes were the same shade of brown as the master of the house, among other details, many of which she did not quite understand. But she would hold to her end of the bargain and bear no ill will toward her mother for finally making the confession.

“My late husband, John, he-he was not your father. I am so very sorry, my dear. I lied to you, time and time again as I told you fanciful stories about him, because I wished you to believe your father was a good man and that we were once in love. The truth is John did not treat me well, and soon after his death I-I became the mistress of…”

“Mama, you do not have to say his name.” She squeezed her mother’s hand. “I know the master of the house is my real father. I-I am not angry that you kept this a secret for a long time. When I was a child, I would not have understood anyway. But I’m not a child anymore, Mama, and I understand now. Does-does his wife know?” The lady of the house did not treat Daisy with any amount of kindness and her mother’s revelation would explain a lot of things—if she knew her own husband had fathered the governess’s daughter.

“I-I believe she does at least suspect it. He’s a good man, your real father. We were in love. He brought me here to protect me, and I presented myself as a new widow who was expecting soon and needed a job. My Aunt Martha who raised me, God rest her soul, was a governess for another prominent family and it was she who taught me all I needed to know to seek such a position.”

It all made sense now. The master of the house was always kind to Daisy, but whenever his wife caught him speaking with Daisy or her mother, the woman would get a pinched look about her face and call her husband away on the pretense of needing his assistance with something or other.

“Be careful when I’m gone. I don’t think he would ever dream of sending you away—I am sure he will try to keep you on here as a servant—but his wife will want you gone. She has a devious, mean side to her, and I suppose I cannot blame her, for I helped to create that part of her. It was wrong of me to work as a companion to a wealthy lord in the way I did. Please never tell anyone, my dear. If it becomes well known that you were the illegitimate child of a lord, it will hamper your ability to marry as well as I have always dreamed you would. You will still find your handsome prince one day, I promise. I can see it now. You will be a lovely bride, my sweet daughter.”

“Oh, Mama.” Daisy was openly crying, sorrow unlike any she’d ever known shredding apart her entire universe. Her mama’s next words only made her sob harder, because she did not know how she would live without her beloved mother and could not under any circumstances envision a world in which her mother no longer breathed and smiled and laughed. And danced. Mama used to dance around their shared bedchamber in the mornings, singing as she opened the curtains wide to allow the morning sunlight to crawl across the floor. Please God, she begged, don’t let this happen.

“No matter how dark and unfair life may seem at times,” her mother said in a rattling whisper, “if you look hard enough and you believe hard enough, you will always see a flicker of light in the darkness. That light you will see, my dear sweet daughter, is hope, and no one—not even the devil himself, can extinguish your light, your hope.”

Then Mama closed her eyes and never opened them again.

“Daisy? Little girl? Are you all right?” Papa started to stand up, and the movement caught Daisy’s attention and brought her fully out of her reverie.

She forced a smile. “Oh, forgive me. I am fine, Papa. I was just thinking.” Though her trip down memory lane had suddenly left her with little appetite, she took a bite of the ham anyway, hoping Papa wouldn’t ask any more questions.

“Thinking about what?”

“About how fortunate I am, Papa.” She smiled again, and this time it was genuine. She felt guilty for lying to him in this moment, but she couldn’t very well sit across from him and tell him she was a bastard. Though all the girls at Talcott House came from unfortunate backgrounds, she still worried he might look upon her differently if he knew the full truth of why she’d come to live there, particularly since her mother had pressed upon her the importance of keeping this dark secret. Better to keep insisting she had once lived in the north country, and she would be as vague as possible about everything and make him believe she’d lived at Talcott House from an early age—that would hopefully lead to less inquiries.

He returned her smile and uncorked the bottle of wine. Then he poured two glasses and pushed hers across the table to her. “Let us share a toast to our mutual fortune, my sweet wife.”

They both picked up their wine glasses, and Daisy was relieved by Papa’s comforting presence. It was rapidly chasing away the darkness that had enveloped her when she’d thought of the day her poor mother had passed away and she’d finally learned the full truth of her parentage.

They clinked their glasses together. “To fortune, and to my beautiful little bride,” Papa said with a playful wink.

She laughed. “To fortune, and to my handsome big husband.” She returned his wink.

* * *

Edward stared at his sweet little bride from across the table as she took the last bite of a sweetcake. Though she had seemed to lose her appetite not long after they sat down, becoming distant for several minutes as she pushed the food around on her plate, she had soon perked up and enjoyed the rest of her meal. When her pink tongue darted out to lick a bit of icing from the corner of her mouth, his cock hardened and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

She pushed back slightly from the table and smiled at him. “Oh, Papa, that was the most wonderful meal I’ve ever had. The sweetcakes were my favorite, I will be certain to give my compliments to Cook. At Talcott House, we rarely got to enjoy sweets, as Miss Wickersham insisted dessert was only for the most special of occasions, like a birthday, though sometimes Cynny would steal sugar from the kitchen and we’d put huge, heaping scoops of it into our morning oatmeal,” she said with a giggle.

“Cynny?” he asked. “You do mean Hyacinth, do you not? How often did she steal sugar? I hope you do not mind me saying so, but the letters from Miss Wickersham about her made it sound as if she was the most well-behaved young miss Talcott House had ever seen.”

Daisy gazed at him with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “Oh, Papa, I dare say Miss Wickersham was not honest with you about Cynny’s personality at all then, though Cynny is one of my dearest friends and I am sure she will make Lord Grayson a splendid wife, assuming he does not mind some occasional bouts of naughtiness from his little bride. Hm.” She tapped on her chin and peered upward for a moment. “I wonder why Miss Wickersham would lie. Someone ought to give her a spanking for telling such big fibs, if you ask me.”

“I am certain Miss Wickersham had her reasons for the deception, though I am beyond pleased with how the situation played out, for I now have you to call my sweet bride.”

“Oh, Papa. You say the most romantic things, and I should know since in the most romantic book I ever read…” She continued on, telling him of the plot of a medieval romance featuring a secret prince and his servant girl, comparing all the most romantic elements of the novel to things Edward had said or done thus far and how he was even better than the secret prince. Her chattering, so sweet and pure and honest, warmed his heart as he watched her speak animatedly about the book, making the cutest expressions and gesturing excitedly with her hands.

He paid attention to her as she talked, but he also took a few moments to consider Miss Wickersham’s obfuscation, as stretching the truth seemed out of character for the no-nonsense woman. But suddenly it all made sense, as Edward recalled the failing condition of Talcott House, with its weak ceilings and peeling paint. Not long after he’d written Miss Wickersham and promised her a rather high donation, the woman had wasted no time in replying to his letter espousing Hyacinth’s formidable qualities, writing that since she was the oldest eligible girl at Talcott House she was the most mature and biddable of brides, though she still might require the gentle guidance of a caring papa from time to time, but “no more than a submissive and mostly obedient potential bride you might meet in the marriage market of London.” Those were the headmistress’s exact words.

Finally, Daisy ended her story by claiming the servant girl and the secret prince lived happily ever after, though, “surely not as happy as we shall be together, Papa. As I told you earlier, Lady Miselda says we will find happiness together, after all, and I do so believe she was telling the truth about it.”

It pleased him that she was still acting as her normal joyful self and hadn’t sulked over the spanking he’d given her. She was carrying on as if nothing had happened, the only indication she’d been punished coming as she squirmed in her seat now and then. He hoped she had learned her lesson, however, and did not test him again in the near future. He much preferred making her experience pleasure to pain, he thought as he recalled the way her entire body had tensed while she rode the waves of her climax.

He finished off the last of his wine and eyed Daisy with pleasure. She looked radiant and alluring as she sat there wearing nothing but his dressing gown, and knowing she was stark naked underneath with a freshly claimed cunny and a red punished bottom only incited his desires to burn hotter.

He had to have her. Again.

But he worried about making her too sore by claiming her only a few hours after she’d lost her maidenhead. He rose from the table and helped her out of her seat, a lascivious idea forming in his mind.

“Daisy,” he said, drawing her into his arms, “Papa is going to teach you something right now. Do you think you can be a good little girl and do as Papa says?”

Her breath caught as she peered up at him, as if she knew he was referring to some kind of shared intimacy. Her dark eyes heated with longing and she gave a slight nod. “Yes, Papa. I will try my best to obey you and learn quickly, whatever it is you wish to teach me.”

His groin tightened at her words, his cock leaping and straining to escape the confines of his trousers. He met her gaze. “Get on your knees, little one. Papa is going to teach you how to suck his cock.”

She gasped and blushed as her eyes grew wide. She opened her mouth for a moment as if to ask a question, her expression betraying both her surprise and her confusion. But she soon pressed her lips together and started to sink to her knees. Clearly, no one had informed her that her new papa might make use of her mouth in such a way, but he was glad for it since she was entirely innocent regarding this particular intimate act.

Once she settled on her knees, she drew a deep breath and peered up at him. The dressing gown had come partially undone, giving him a glimpse of her pert breasts. Her nipples were hardened and poking at the front of the dressing gown, and her chest was rising and falling faster than before, evidence of her increasing excitement. He suspected if he reached between her thighs, he would discover his sweet little girl was soaking wet for her papa.

“Good girl,” he said, his voice filled with praise as he tangled one hand gently in her hair. He stepped closer and stared down at her. “Papa is going to pull his cock out now, and you’re going to be a good little girl and take it in your mouth.” With that, he used his free hand to unfasten his trousers and pull his hard shaft free.

The feel of her warm breath on his manhood made Edward tense with pleasure. But the moment she parted her lips and took him into her mouth? Pure carnal bliss.

“Oh, Daisy, you’re being so good right now. You’re making Papa very, very happy.”

He guided her to take him deeper, and deeper still, then urged her to bob her head forward and backward over his cock. She did so clumsily at first, but it wasn’t long before she started to master the act of pleasing him orally, keeping her cheeks hollowed as she kept taking him deep, increasing her pace steadily while she clutched at his legs for support.

Her dark silken locks, still messed up from her earlier claiming, bounced over her shoulders as she continued on, accepting him deep in her throat even as her eyes began to water. He took a firmer grasp of her hair and pulled her off his cock, allowing her to inhale a few much needed deep breaths, then he guided her back to sucking and was pleased she persisted on, even boldly swiping her tongue over the tip of his length as she bobbed forward and back.

His thighs clenched under the force of his impending eruption. He clutched her hair with both hands now, holding her head in place while he thrust in and out of her mouth, spurting his seed in torrents of heat down her throat.

“I expect you to swallow every last drop, young lady. Swallow your papa’s seed like an obedient little miss.”

She acquiesced beautifully, staring up at him with her large dark eyes as she gulped down everything he gave her.

“Good girl,” he said, stroking her hair. “Papa is so proud of you.”

She gave him a dreamy smile but remained quiet, for once having nothing to say. He wrapped her up more securely in his dressing gown and tucked her into bed, then fastened his trousers and rang for a servant. It was Mrs. Daniels who appeared at the door to his bedchamber, and the older woman must have been reading his mind, for behind her two other servants were carrying a tub, and behind them two servants were holding large buckets of steaming water.

“Are you and her ladyship in need of a bath by chance, my lord?” The older woman gave him a polite smile coupled with a knowing wink.

“Yes, Mrs. Daniels, thank you. Please do come in and set up the bath.”

In a matter of minutes, the bath was arranged in the middle of his bedchamber and the servants quickly departed. He tested the temperature of the water and was pleased to find it perfect, not too hot for his little girl.

Daisy was peeking out from behind the covers, having pulled them up to her nose when all the servants had entered. She eyed the steaming bath with great eagerness and in the next moment became tangled in the covers as she tried, much too quickly, to climb out of the bed. He chuckled and came to her assistance, pulling the covers off her and unfastening the tie of the dressing gown as well. Now that she was completely naked, he lifted her off the bed and carried her to the bath, appreciating that Mrs. Daniels, as efficient as ever, had left washcloths, scrubbing brushes, and a large selection of scented soaps in a basket next to the tub.

He placed Daisy in the water and she let out a squeal. Immediately, he lifted her back out and looked at her in alarm as she dripped water all over him.

“Are you all right? Is it too hot for you?”

She blushed and hesitated a moment before answering, “It’s fine, Papa, it felt very nice in fact. That is, until my punished bottom touched the water.”

“Ah, well you’re going to have to get used to that, I’m afraid, and you have no one to blame for this particular discomfort but yourself, little girl. But,” he said after a pause, “I will allow you to get into the water at your own pace. Take your time, my sweet.” With that, he lifted her higher and placed her standing into the water.

She stood there naked, with the water from when he’d stuck her in the bath moments ago cascading slowly down her curvy little form and glistening over her smooth flesh. He strode around her and stared pointedly at her punished bottom, and she peered over her shoulder at him and quickly cupped her behind cheeks.

“Papa! Don’t look. It’s embarrassing.”

He rose an eyebrow at her. “You will not hide any part of yourself from Papa, Daisy. Now, unless you want me to add more red to that sore little bottom of yours, I suggest you drop your hands to your sides.”

She obeyed almost instantly, and he resumed circling her, gazing upon his adorable bride and inspecting every part of her. He approached her and took her breasts in his hands, feeling the generous weight of them as she arched herself against his touch. He rubbed his thumbs over her nipples and they tightened as she emitted the cutest gasps. Then she pressed her thighs together and squirmed in place. He released one of her breasts and put a finger beneath her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze.

“Is your cunny aching again, Daisy?”

She released a shaky breath. “Yes, Papa, terribly so.”

“Once you sink down fully into the water, Papa will clean every little part of you and make all the aching feel better.”

* * *

Daisy slowly sank into the warm bath, making little whimpering noises as her bottom cheeks became accustomed to the water. Fortunately, once she was submerged up to her neck, it did not take long for her entire body to become used to the temperature, and she breathed a sigh of relief and stared expectantly at her papa, hoping he would touch her kitty. He had promised to make the aching feel better and she anticipated the first caress of his fingers stroking through her wet folds.

She watched as he poured a generous amount of a lavender scented soap into the water and swirled it around with his hand. The pleasant aroma filled her senses, leaving her relaxed. She would have felt positively tranquil, even, if not for the increasing pulses between her thighs. She parted her legs and looked at Papa, hoping he would touch her privates before he bathed her.

“Not yet, little one,” he chided her gently as he dipped a washcloth into the water. “You must learn patience.”

“But how can I be patient when I know such wonderful sensations as a climax exist and are very well within reach at this moment?” She batted her eyelashes at him as a playful grin touched her lips. “Please, Papa?”

He ran the soapy washcloth over her bosom, then smartly swatted each breast in turn, the sound of the wet smacks resounding in the room despite the light impact. The blows hadn’t been hard, and she realized he’d only meant to get her attention. “I said not yet, young lady, and you would do well to behave yourself. If you’re naughty in the bathtub, Papa will have to make you kneel with your naughty, wet bottom lifted out of the water to receive a punishment. Is that what you want? Do you want Papa to give you a spanking on your bare bottom right here during your bathtime?”

Her eyes rounded wider and she shook her head from side to side. “No, Papa. Please no spanking in the bath. I-I’ll be good. I’m sorry for being impatient, it’s just so hard when I know how good you can make me feel.” She sighed as he resumed cleaning her, picking up where he’d left off with her bosom and running the cloth over her nipples and underneath the curve of her breasts. “By the way, Papa, I very much enjoyed what you taught me earlier. I would have never thought of such a thing, but I am glad you have such vast knowledge when it comes to making love.”

He smiled at her as he moved to clean her back, lifting her hair out of the way while he ran the soapy cloth over her smooth skin. “I enjoyed it as well, little girl. You did a good job and I look forward to teaching you much, much more.”

She perked up, swiveling her head to give him a side glance. “Oh? Are you referring to the training of my bottom hole with the plugs, Papa?”

Not for the first time in her presence, he found himself fighting off a sudden cough. Her words had yet again caught him by surprise. He moved to work the cloth over her stomach, and she leaned back in the water with a contented sigh.

“Yes, little one, I am referring to the training of your bottom hole,” he finally answered. “Since you are so eager to learn more about it, I see no reason why we should wait. I will show you the box of plugs later this evening and perhaps we can begin with the smallest of them.” He paused in his scrubbing and gazed down at her, a look of contemplation crossing his face. “You are without a doubt the perfect little girl for me, Daisy, I want you to know that. Now, there is something I wish to discuss with you.”

“Oh?” She straightened in the water. “You sound serious, Papa. I’m not in trouble for something, am I? I know I pressed my thighs together during the carriage ride after you told me I must wait for my climax, though I had hoped you would not find out. I must confess that when the carriage hit a bump in the road it felt quite nice.” She focused on him and felt her eyes widen. Why had she said that? What if he wanted to talk to her about something completely different? She really was her own worst tattletale sometimes. Hoping if she got Papa back on topic and praying the topic wasn’t her semi-naughty behavior during the carriage ride, she said, “As you were saying, Papa, you wished to discuss something with me?”

He cleared his throat. “You are not in trouble, little miss, though I shall endeavor to keep a better eye on you during carriage rides in the future. I wish to discuss with you the things you say about intimacies that occur between husbands and wives.”

“You mean when I talk about lovemaking?”

“Precisely. What you said in the entryway downstairs after meeting the staff was slightly inappropriate, as one should never discuss lovemaking or any facets of it in public, not even in the vaguest of terms or insinuations. It is a topic you will only speak about with me in private. As your husband, you are welcome to say whatever you wish to me in regards to the act of making love, but you must be careful what you say around others. Even an innocent reference to spending time together since we were just married could be construed as inappropriate.”

Daisy recalled the young maid giggling and one of the male servants breaking into a coughing fit after she’d made the statement in the entryway as she declined Mrs. Daniels’ offer of refreshment. “I think I understand, Papa. I’m sorry for earlier. But you must know I won’t say anything too bawdy in public. For example, I would never ask you when you are next planning to put your cock in my kitty while we are seated in the dining room as the servants are setting breakfast platters on the table.” She giggled.

“You are a naughty minx,” he said, splashing her with the washcloth, “and I ought to pull you out of the bath and put you over my knee again. Or better yet, shove my cock in your mouth to keep you quiet so you listen to all I have to say without making impertient comments.”

She flushed at the thought of him forcing his length into her mouth just to keep her silent, and the memory of how he’d tasted as his powerful thighs had clenched while he thrusted his manhood in and out of her mouth toward the very end made her lady bits all tingly. “But you finished talking, Papa. I did not interrupt you, though I will not object if you wish to make use of my mouth again. However, you did promise to make the aching between my thighs go away after you finished cleaning me, Papa, and I do not believe I have ever been so clean in my life.”

“Open your legs wider, naughty girl,” he said with a deep growl and a deliciously feral gleam in his dark eyes.

She obeyed, parting her legs fully as she stared up at her handsome papa. He ran the washcloth over her stomach again but soon ventured lower. She lurched her center upward against his masterful touch, moaning with relief when he abandoned the washcloth and probed her nether lips with his fingers.

“Is this what my little girl wants?” he asked in his deep papa-voice. “To have Papa make your kitty feel good?”

“Mm. Please, Papa. It aches so much, and my ninnies are getting achy now, too.”

“Go ahead and rub your bosom while Papa tends to your kitty, Daisy,” he instructed, and she soon reached for her ninnies and tentatively ran her fingers over her hardened peaks.

“Good girl, keep doing that, however it feels best to you.”

She cupped her breasts, surprised at how large they felt in her hands. She had never touched herself so familiarly before, and it was a pleasant sensation to rub her bosom as Papa continued expertly stroking between her thighs. He soon found her clitty and circled it with slow, precise movements that made her whimper and moan. Heated pleasure coiled in her lower tummy and she started undulating her center against her papa’s hand.

“Close your eyes, my sweet. Close your eyes and let go. Come for Papa.”

Her eyes fluttered shut as she plunged deeper into the abyss of the ecstasy he was inflicting upon her. She kept rubbing her breasts, and having her eyes closed heightened her senses, making her ever aware of each caress of his digits circling her clitty.

Then she gasped and shuddered, ripples of euphoric sensation washing through her, pulling her under to the depths of a quaking climax that went on and on, until she could scarcely catch her breath as she rode the final aftershocks of bliss.

“Feel better, little one?” Papa’s deep voice brought her out of her lust induced reverie, and she finally opened her eyes, though she was still panting heavily.

“Yes, Papa. So much better. Thank you for taking care of me.”

He smiled and leaned down to kiss her forehead. “I will always take care of you, Daisy. Always, no matter what.”

* * *

Edward eyed Daisy from across the room. She was in the same position she’d taken up earlier in the day at the foot of his bed, bent over with her bottom lifted high and her thighs parted. Satisfied that she was in the perfect position for what he was planning, he retrieved the box of plugs from a drawer, as well as an accompanying bottle of lubrication, and approached her from behind. He cupped her rear, giving it an affectionate squeeze before sitting on the bed beside her with the box in his lap.

She peered over at the box, a curious glint in her eyes. “That’s a large box, Papa. Larger than the box I used to sometimes hide the extra sugar in that Cynny swiped from the kitchen. Hm. You must have an impressive collection of plugs. May I see what they look like? Please?”

He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling. Even in the face of an impending bottom hole training, she was still as talkative as ever, and he found her tendency to venture off topic rather charming. It was part of her sweet personality and one of the things he so loved about her. Finally, he opened the box and revealed the contents within—five plugs in varying sizes, the smallest being the width of two fingers, and the largest being almost as thick as his hardened cock.

“Oh my,” was all she said.

“Indeed.”

“What kind of establishment sells a box of plugs like these, Papa? I have never heard tell of a shop that caters to...naughty items.”

“The proprietor of a shop where I purchased some of your hats and gloves has a collection of intimate items she keeps in the back. Mrs. Stilton’s Milliner’s Shop, to be exact.”

“Oh my,” she said again. “I should like to visit that particular shop.”

He chuckled. “I will take you out shopping on Bond Street soon, and we will visit that particular shop as well as many others. Now,” he said, “Papa is going to insert the smallest plug in your bottom hole, my sweet, and we will have regular sessions—perhaps not every day, but often enough—during which you will be required to wear one of these plugs. After you successfully take the smallest plug several times in a row, then we will move on to the next size, and so on down the line until you’re capable of accepting the largest one.” He paused for a moment, allowing her time to digest this information. “I think you know what will happen once you are able to repeatedly take the largest plug with success.”

Her lips parted on a gasp. “You-you will put your cock in my bottom hole then, won’t you, Papa?” She shifted on her feet, shuffling her legs wider apart as a deep blush covered her face.

“You are correct, little girl.” He held the smallest plug up and met her gaze. “Are you ready to commence your bottom hole training?”

“Yes, Papa, I-I think so, though I must confess to feeling a sudden bout of nerves. Will it hurt?”

“It might be uncomfortable at first, but I do not believe it will hurt you. Don’t fret, my sweet, Papa will be most gentle with you, especially this first time as I do not wish to cause you any amount of harm.”

“Thank you, Papa.”

He rose from the bed, still holding the small plug, as well as the bottle of lubrication. He shifted behind her and stared at her delectable little bottom, her cheeks still slightly reddened from her earlier punishment. “Be a good little girl and reach back and pull your bottom cheeks apart, Daisy. Show Papa your cute puckering hole.”

A shudder ran through her and she lurched slightly forward, as if seeking relief in her kitty, but she soon complied and reached around to draw her chastised bottom cheeks wide apart. Her pucker immediately clenched and unclenched, as if anticipating the first push of the plug into her tight hole. But first, he had to adequately prepare her for the intrusion. He uncapped the bottle of lubrication.

“Good girl. Now keep holding just like that while Papa gets your little arsehole ready for the plug.” He poured a liberal amount of the lube down the crevice between her cheeks and then started massaging it into her pucker, using two fingers as he prodded her snug entrance but didn’t go more than knuckle deep. She whimpered and clutched harder on her behind cheeks, but she otherwise remained still and in place. Her obedience pleased him greatly.

Finally, he withdrew his digits from her tightness and poured lubrication onto the plug, then wasted no time in pressing it at her hole. With a series of gentle thrusts, he worked the tip of the plug into her secret passage, offering her encouragement and praise for holding position and allowing the plug into such a private place.

“How are you feeling, little girl?” he asked once the plug was halfway inside her.

“I’m well, Papa. It doesn’t hurt. It’s not entirely comfortable, but I am thankful you are being so gentle with me.”

He stroked her back and continued to press the plug further into her tightness, until at last it was fully seated in her little bottom hole. He stood back to observe the sight, and his cock lurched in his trousers. She was so lovely, his sweet little bride. She peered over her shoulder at him, still holding her cheeks apart.

“Is it all the way inside, Papa?” She wiggled her hips. “And will it stay in without you holding onto it?”

“Yes, little miss, it’s all the way inside, and it should stay in place as the end of it slopes in slightly and then enlarges at the base. You may release your bottom cheeks and stand up now.”

She slowly rose off the bed and turned to face him. She clasped her hands in front of herself and peered at him with uncharacteristic shyness, and he supposed she feared the plug would indeed fall out if she moved too much or too quickly.

He reached out a hand, beckoning her forward. “Come to Papa, little girl.”

With gradual steps, she finally reached him and he took her in his arms and could think of nothing better to do than kiss her soundly.

And so he did.

Until she was breathless and moaning against his lips, his sweet and responsive bride.

“You will wear the plug until bedtime,” he said, reaching around to squeeze her bottom.

“If it pleases you, Papa.” She laced her arms around his neck, and when he bent down to press his lips to her forehead, she melted under his kiss and emitted the dreamiest of sighs.

Yes, he thought with certainty, they would find happiness together. He already cared for her deeply, already loved her with his whole heart, and though she had a mischievous and impulsive side, she was mostly biddable and entirely sweet.

Not to mention, entirely his.