Once Dr. Kent determined that Kelly's throat was cured, Daddy restored her to age six, which meant she didn't need the side rails raised on her crib anymore, and that was a relief. She'd been too ill to care in the beginning, but once she felt better, she began having the nightmares again. When Daddy realized the bad dreams had returned because the rails still bothered her, he reminded Kelly how to lower the sides if she got scared, and from then on raised them no higher than halfway.

Another perk of being older was her ability to eat people food again, rather than the minced stuff that plopped out of baby jars. The fruit wasn't too bad, but ground meats and strained peas tasted gross. She barely escaped a spanking when she spit a mouthful of peas back into Daddy's face. He did look kind of funny with green mush dripping from his eyebrows, but she didn't dare laugh when he glowered at her. Instead, she started to cry. Early on, she'd learned Daddy didn't even scold crying babies, if they weren't cranky or fussy. A crying baby was reassured and distracted. Yes, there were definite benefits to being only six months old, but it had a major downside, too. Toilet time.

No matter how much fussing, whining, wailing, or whimpering Kelly did, a six-month-old baby wasn't permitted to use the toilet. She had to use her diaper, something which Kelly absolutely detested. She didn't have much choice as far as peeing went. When her bladder grew full, even if she tried to hold it in, the balloon-like organ would empty itself. However, her bowels were a different matter. Since she had more control over those, she would delay going for the three or four days she wore diapers. As long as she wasn't uncomfortable, Daddy would express concern but wouldn't press her into doing something she so obviously despised.

Kelly confessed how deeply she disliked going in her diaper when she and Daddy got together in his room after her first stint being an infant. Having strep didn't help matters much since the medicine gave her diarrhea, but being sick did lower her awareness of her situation significantly because she mostly slept. He talked to her openly about her reluctance, and did his best to reassure her he considered all bodily functions to be natural, and she had nothing to be embarrassed about. But even that didn't change Kelly's mind.

Holding off pooping for four days actually worked out for her, until her third period, when she needed to go so badly her intestines started cramping, and she stubbornly refused to mess in her diaper. Unfortunately, once Daddy realized she was deliberately making herself uncomfortable, he became firm and insisted she stop her foolishness and go. Obstinate to the core, Kelly clamped her lips together and shook her head. With a sigh of resignation, Daddy carried her over to the changing table, removed her diaper, flipped her over, and gave Kelly a hairbrush spanking. Though the punishment had Kelly sobbing long before he stopped, she wouldn't do what he wanted. She already lay bottom up and strapped to the table, so Daddy told her she'd left him no choice.

Kelly was still whimpering when he returned holding a bright blue bulb with a white nozzle thingy. Not quite sure what he intended to do, but certain she wouldn't like it, she started to wail. However, when she saw him lubricate the end, she figured out his intentions and scrabbled to get free. Except Daddy was having none of it. After giving her a sharp smack and ordering her to hold still, he carefully inserted the lubricated tip into her rectum and slowly released a warm, sudsy solution into her bowels.

Kelly didn't stop crying throughout the ordeal, but when he'd emptied the contents inside her, rather than carry her into the bathroom, Daddy pressed a plug in her bottom hole. It didn't hurt, because she was still lubricated from the enema, but she howled her displeasure anyway, because she wanted it out.

"That should do the trick," he murmured with a light pat to her backside. "Let me know when this gets uncomfortable enough that you'll change your mind and do as I want. In the meantime, I'll sit in the rocker over here, and read while you think things over."

With her throat sore from screaming, and her tummy twisting doubly hard with the need to go exacerbating the pain of her normal period cramps, Kelly whined as she struggled to get comfortable, but she was too well secured to move, even onto her side. When her insides threatened to pop, she wailed out for him.

Daddy promptly came over. "Have you finally gotten over your embarrassment?" he asked, almost conversationally.

When Kelly whimpered and nodded, he said, "Very well. I'll put your diaper back on, and you can do your business. When you're done, I'll clean you up and lay you down for a nap."

Much to her dismay, however, when he turned her on her hip and pulled out the plug, Kelly could feel the warm fluid start to leak out of her bottom. Quickly fastening her diaper, he ordered her to go. Although tears continued to stream down Kelly's cheeks, she had no choice but to obey. After she'd emptied her bowels, he praised her, removed the dirty cloth and cleaned her up. Securing her to the changing table, he returned to the bathroom and ran a bath for her.

Angry and mortified by what he'd made her do, Kelly briefly considered running away, but she had no place to go, and that realization upset her even more. She was still silently fuming when the familiar scent of Princess Ariel bubble bath drifted out to her. Equating the fragrance to soothing warmth and comfort, Kelly relaxed. After a few seconds, Daddy picked her up and lowered her into the tub where he bathed and caressed her until she almost fell asleep.

Later that night, while swathed in a new diaper, wearing a onesie and being rocked as she drank her bottle, Daddy told her, gently but firmly, that she was his little girl, and he decided her age. Her bodily functions were a natural part of that process, and it was his duty to look after her. If she resisted, she would be punished. He didn't believe in giving an enema as punishment but assured her he would make an exception if she didn't stop being difficult. His softly spoken threat certainly didn't ease Kelly's mind, but she knew, no matter what, she never wanted to be disciplined that way—ever.

* * *

Another outcome Kelly discovered during her diaper days was the drastic change in her routine. Rather than studying and exercising, her daily schedule included more baby-like activities like bottles, naps, baths, and lots of playtime in an adult-sized rocking swing or surrounded by toys as she sat on a blanket by Daddy's feet. When the flow of her period slowed to mere spotting, he changed her regimen by informing her she could be a "big girl" again. And, once Daddy returned Kelly to her usual age and regular routines, she had to go back to her studies.

Despite having completed enough courses to get her GED, when Daddy tested her, she scored between grades nine and ten, and he wasn't pleased.

"If you ever hope to qualify for a job, Kelly, you'll need better skills than the ones you currently have. Therefore, I'm going to homeschool you. Your schooling will be grade levels higher than what is appropriate for your Little age, but your rewards for doing well and punishments for not applying yourself will remain age-equivalent to your juvenile status with me. That means gold stars and treats if you do well, and extra work or spankings if you don't. Once you've mastered the basics, I intend for you to graduate to higher learning by becoming familiar with computers. I also think you need to attain some secretarial skills like the proper way to file and the ability to create and type business memos. But, as I said, all that will come much later."

From the tests he gave her, Daddy determined Kelly scored best in English and history, so, of course, he concentrated instead on math and science, using her better subjects as a reward when she did well on the ones that gave her trouble.

The church school she'd attended hadn't been big on the theory of evolution, preferring to teach creationism, so Daddy gave her some books on biology and Darwin, both of which he informed her she would be tested on.

Daddy had firm expectations, which he outlined for her. He preferred she get one hundred percent or ninety, at least. Both gave her an A, which he'd reward with an hour of extra TV time, or a movie. On rare occasions, he'd even take her to the cinema to see a film she'd expressed interest in but he'd vetoed because he wasn't sure it was age appropriate. But even treat movies weren't rated any higher than PG13.

An eighty would gain her a B and an admonishment to apply herself. Seventy was considered a C, which would earn her extra reading and study time. Sixty was a D, which usually found her standing panties-down in a corner for fifteen minutes with a paper due the next day. Lastly, fifty was failing. If she clearly had trouble grasping the concept, he'd tutor her then test her again. However, if he believed she was simply being too lazy to study, she got a scolding followed by a spanking and corner time. As an added punishment, she wasn't allowed dessert, playtime, or TV. Instead, she sat on her sore bottom and studied until 7:00 p.m., at which time she was bathed and put to bed. Immediately after breakfast the next morning, Kelly was given another test. This time she needed to get a B or higher. A C or lower, and she received the same punishment she did for an F, with her spanking increasing in strokes or severity. Daddy always started with a hand spanking then worked his way up a continuum to the belt or a strap, then a paddle, spoon, crop, or switch until Kelly had eventually earned stripes from the dreaded rattan cane.

Behavioral issues were not given a specific count, but punishments for failing grades always began at three, with one stroke added for each additional offense. He continued at the same level until she reached a count of twenty strokes when he switched to the next harshest instrument and started over at three. The severest punishment she'd ever received was five strikes of the cane, and even that minor number left her with painful welts that burned her bottom through the night. If it wouldn't have gotten her in even more trouble, Kelly would have collected that whippy switch and the hated strap, marched them into the living room, and shoved them into the burning fire. She fantasized doing it, but Daddy had a way of making the worst even worse. So, imagining was as far as she got.

Noon meant lunchtime, which consisted of soup and a sandwich or a salad and another glass of milk, followed by a nap, which Kelly took in her underwear. If she resisted going to bed by fussing or whining, Daddy would give her a quick over-the-knee, panties-down spanking until she promised to be good. It hurt enough Kelly's eyes would often sting with unshed tears, but she'd give him the promise he sought long before the punishment became painful enough to make her cry.

Once she'd promised to be good, he'd carry her to her bed then, after a brief lecture on obedience, he'd assign her a light penalty, like writing a hundred lines promising to be obedient, when she got up from her nap. But before he left her to rest, he always placed a reassuring kiss on her forehead to remind her that despite the scolding and punishment, he loved her.

None of that happened, however, if Kelly was truly miserable about something and not just being cranky or bratty about nap time. At those times, Daddy would discuss the issue through until they reached a satisfactory solution for both of them, then take her over to the large rocking chair, where he'd wrap her up in the fluffy afghan, tell her a story, and rock her until she fell asleep in his arms.

On those days, Kelly awoke back in her bed, lying on her stomach with Daddy rubbing her back to wake her. After the nap, Daddy helped her dress again and settled her in the kitchen for an afternoon refreshment of juice, cut up fruit, and a few slices of cheese. Definitely not a snack she would have chosen for herself, but the juice was always cold and fresh with the mild cheese offering a nice counterpoint to the bits of fruit he'd prepared for her.

After snack time, she was given more study time, usually in music or art appreciation, which included learning to play an instrument as well as lessons in drawing and painting. If she had a punishment assignment to complete, she'd be seated at the corner table, instead. Either way school ended at three, which meant the next item on Kelly's schedule was an exercise period of sorts. And that's when Daddy insisted she change out of her little girl clothes and into the romper suit he'd lay out on the bed for her, or put on her himself. Kelly didn't consider the one-piece pink outfit at all flattering, though she doubted prettiness or even cuteness had ever been a factor in its design.

Once she'd changed, Daddy instructed her to lie down on a soft, foam rubber mat he'd laid out for her and put her through a routine that included sit-ups and other stretching exercises. For the next hour or so, she'd complete the workout he set up for her. Between four thirty and five, he'd let her clean herself with a wet washcloth before she changed into play clothes, despite the fact Kelly really wanted to take a shower.

Playtime could be anything from playing board games with Daddy, like Operation, Candy Land, or even children's Scrabble to electronic word contests, which she would play on her own. Then, at six, on the dot, Kelly and Daddy ate the dinner Nanny-cook had fixed for them.

During her first six months with Daddy, Kelly had little personal interaction with the woman who prepared their dinners, and that suited her just fine.

For dinner, Kelly had meat, fish, or poultry, a starch, and at least one green vegetable with every meal along with a side salad. Nanny-cook was given instructions to add carrots or corn to the meals as an extra veggie, but only one night a week for each. If Kelly cleaned her plate, she could have dessert, which was typically a small piece of cake, cupcake, pudding in a cup, or gelatin squares, and more milk if she wished it as well.

After dinner, Daddy let her read for one hour. Her approved reading material ranged from the classics to philosophers, which he debated with her during adult time in his room, but not anywhere else since he considered the materials unsuitable for little girls. However, he was serious about broadening her education and knew children's books wouldn't help her in that regard. He permitted TV only on weekends, and even then, he restricted Kelly to no more than two hours a day in the evening. Rather than TV, they sometimes watched a G-rated movie together; though, if she'd been exceptionally good, he'd occasionally allow a PG. However, movies rated R were exactly that. Restricted.

Reading time ended at eight, which meant next on her schedule was bath time. Because her hair grew back as more of a downy fuzz than a prickly stubble, Daddy decided she could go three or four days between shaves, with the length of time determined by Kelly's body. Every night, Daddy encouraged Kelly to talk about the things she enjoyed and didn't enjoy about her day. Spankings always topped the list of things she didn't enjoy, when she'd earned one, followed by having to do lines. If her behavior had warranted a punishment during the day, he urged her to discuss why she'd been bad. Kelly always knew why she'd been punished, since Daddy made the reason for her spankings painfully clear. However, having to repeat what she'd done wrong, and why, served to instill the lesson in her mind as it renewed her regret, often bringing her to tears again.

When that happened, a secret part of Kelly wondered if she was losing it. Why should she be bothered because he'd swatted her ass a few times or insisted she write one hundred sentences promising to be good or to work harder. But each time she thought about it, the cause behind her tears wasn't so much related to the punishment, as it was to the fact he had been displeased enough to warrant punishing her. She had disappointed him in some way, and that made her feel bad. Despite the unusual aspects of their relationship, she thrived under his care.

On top of disappointing him, if Kelly had been naughty, Daddy denied her permission to come into his room that night and forbade her from bringing herself sexual relief in any way. A perverse side of Kelly felt like she shouldn't care if he didn't want to make love to her, but she did. She longed for the adult time they shared, and being denied his company only made her feel worse. If she pouted about his restrictions, he'd give her another lecture, but more often than not a gentle one, since he didn't like to upset her close to bedtime. If his scolding brought her to tears anyway, he'd sit beside her and rub her back until she finally fell asleep.

Kelly usually agreed to do whatever Daddy said, even while she wondered why she hadn't been more resistant to the life he'd imposed on her. He didn't punish lightly, but he lavished her with affection when she needed it. In truth, Kelly enjoyed being with him, whether as her daddy or her lover. His concern for her welfare was obvious, and her wants and needs always took priority.

The routine Daddy established took place every weekday, except Wednesdays, also known as Cleaning Day when the service he'd hired came in to tidy up the apartment. On those days, Daddy took Kelly out for the afternoon, either to the park, or a museum or an art gallery. On Wednesdays she was permitted to wear slacks or jeans with a coordinated top that looked youthful without being childish. She wore loafers and socks with her hair pulled back in a braid. Kelly had a young-looking face, so she didn't look so much like an adult little girl than she did a girl in her early teens, which wasn't far from the truth. Since he still insisted she take his hand, and fathers didn't normally lead their teenage daughters by the hand, she assumed they looked like a couple in a September/May relationship, given that Kelly was not quite nineteen and Graham appeared to be in his early forties. And, in a way, they were.