Big Beautiful Little (13 page)

“Are you serious about being my little girl?” he finally asked.

The eyes she raised to him were full of hurt. “How can you even ask that, Lance?”

“Easily,” he replied. “A little girl trusts her daddy. She comes to him when she’s vulnerable or scared or worried. She doesn’t try to handle dangerous situations on her own. And she sure as hell doesn’t try to hide things from him.”

He could see that she was regretting her decision by the tears in her eyes.

“So you want to tell me why you didn’t come to me?”

“Katrina,” she said.

“What?”

Tiffany stood and walked a few steps away before turning back, her arms crossed in front of her.

“You told me when we first got together that you were okay with breaking up because she needed more than you could give…”

“Tiffany…” he began.

“No… let me finish, Lance!” She put her fingers to her temples as she continued. “I don’t want you to get tired of me the way you got tired of her always needing you. You said today that you were glad there wasn’t an ex to deal with, and I come home and what do I find? My house trashed. And the first thing I thought wasn’t about protecting myself, but protecting what I have with you. And yeah, I know that’s probably not healthy…”

He walked over to her. “It’s not, Tiffany,” he said, taking her face in his hands. “It means that you still think that you’re the lucky one, and that this relationship is so unstable that a little tip in the balance is going to have me taking off. But understand. I cannot be with you if you continue to think like that. I can’t be with you if you’re always going to be so scared of losing me. Because it means that you’re never going to believe me when I tell you that I’m not going anywhere. I can’t be with you if you think I’m lying when I say I love you.”

Tears slipped down her cheeks. “God, Lance. I never thought of it that way.”

He took her in his arms. “I know,” he said. “But you need to start thinking of it exactly that way. The only thing that can drive me away now is your continued lack of faith. I need you to stop thinking I’m the prize, baby. You’re the prize. You’re the little girl I always wanted. The only thing that can come between us is you. So stop sabotaging our relationship. You got me, princess. Understand?”

She nodded and hugged him. “I’m sorry, daddy. Forgive me?”

“Absolutely.”

The ringing of his cell phone interrupted the moment. Lance listened as his friend told him that man had been arrested after running from cops who tried to pull him for a moving violation. The man had acted nervous when he’d finally been pulled, and the arresting officer reported that the driver—described as paranoid and belligerent—had a Texas license and said he was in Seattle on business.

“Sound like anyone your girl knows? Trey asked.

Lance glanced at Tiffany. “Sounds exactly like someone she knows,” he said. “I think it’s time we had a talk with this asshole.”

Chapter Eleven: A Little’s Strength

Tiffany almost didn’t recognize him. The handsome boy next door who’d walked out on her that day in Texas was now scruffy, unkempt, and sporting both a slight paunch and the start of a receding hairline.

When she walked over to stand in front of his cell with Lance by her side, she could see Nick’s eyes moving over her, and then moving to Nick.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Nick asked. Beside her, she could feel Lance tense, and knew he was eager to step in. But before they had entered the cell block, she’d asked him to let her handle this to the extent she could. Tiffany knew that everything Lance had said to her earlier was right. She needed to get past her fear, her doubts, her insecurities. And the man looking at her from the other side of the bars had been the one to put them there. Standing up to him once and for all would help her move forward.

“Hello to you, too, Nick,” she said. “And thank you so much for trashing my apartment.”

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,” he said.

“Right, which is why they found your prints all over my stuff.” She shook her head. “You know, when I heard you were here, I was scared at first. I thought, I’m going to see him and think back to all the good times we had and maybe feel sorry for him.” She cocked her head. “But you know, it occurred to me as I walked in that we never really had any good times.”

“That’s probably because I was only using you to get closer to your friend,” he said.

She could feel Lance tense again. She reached over to squeeze his hand.
Wait,
the gesture said.

“Yeah, the cops tracked Ruth Anne down today, too,” Tiffany said calmly. “At first she tried to cover for you, but when they told her they knew TexCan had sent you to Seattle on business, she admitted that that’s where you were. I guess she can’t afford to have both of you in trouble, especially with her being laid off.”

Nick grabbed the bars. “How the hell did you know about that?”

“Oh, she told the cops when they talked to her,” Tiffany said. “She also said you were under a lot of stress. I guess living in a small apartment can do that to you. From what I understand you’re still there. Didn’t get the house, I guess. Bummer.”

“Yeah, like your life is so fucking great!” Nick spat. “You still drawing pictures, you fat fucking cunt?”

Now she had to squeeze Lance’s hand harder. “Yes,” she said. “Still drawing pictures, paying my own bills. And for the first time in years, I’m happy, Nick—happy to be away from you, but more important, happy with myself. And happy that the two people who used to mean so much to me—you and Ruth Anne—both have partners they deserve.”

“At least I’ve got a partner,” Nick said.

This time Tiffany didn’t squeeze Lance’s hand, and he stepped forward.

“So does she,” he said. “I’m Lance, Tiffany’s boyfriend.”

Nick laughed. “Really? Like I’m buying that. She put you up to this?”

“Not at all,” he said. “And she wouldn’t have to. Tiffany’s a beautiful woman. But it would take a man to recognize that.” He laughed. “I guess that’s where we’re different. From what I’m seeing, you’re not much of a man.”

“Oh, yeah? What the fuck do you know?” Nick was growing red in the face now.

“I know that you’re lucky there are bars protecting you,” Lance said. “Because you’re the kind of person who’s only tough when he thinks it’s safe. You’re tough over the phone. You’re tough when you’ve got your pregnant girlfriend doing your talking for you. And you’re tough when you’re breaking into someone’s house instead of having the balls to face them. But we’ll see how tough you are by the time the court system is through with you. We checked it out, and apparently TexCan doesn’t look too favorably on employees who commit crimes while they’re on company business trips.”

“He’s right,” Tiffany said. “What was it you told me when you left, Nick? You deserved better? Let me know how that works out for you.” She turned away, hand in hand with Lance. “On second thought, don’t bother. I really don’t care.”

She ignored his hurled insults as they walked away. The next time she’d face Nick would be at his sentencing and conviction for the crime of breaking and entering and damage to personal property.

Back at Lance’s house, he took her in his arms and told her how proud he was of her.

“My little girl found her strength today,” he said.

“You’re my strength, daddy,” she replied.

“I’m part of it, princess. But you’re stronger than you realize. And I like that, just so long as you realize that I’m stronger. Speaking of that…”

He did not have to say another word. Tiffany not only knew she had to be punished; she wanted to be punished. She’d let her insecurities come between her and Lance. That could not happen again. Walking over to the sofa, she reached under her skirt and pulled down her panties. Then she leaned over the arm of the sofa and reached back to raise her skirt.

But she didn’t feel quite so brave when she looked back and saw the paddle. Where had that come from? She didn’t have much time to ponder the question. There was no preamble to this spanking; after all, there was nothing to say. They both knew she’d warranted correction, and daddy didn’t hold back as he spanked Tiffany. The room was soon filled with sounds of her cries and the crack of polished maple against her flesh.

Tiffany’s bottom went from white to pink to cherry red in a matter of moments. She struggled to keep her position as Lance began to alternately spank the undersides of her buttocks, lifting the fleshy mounds with each searing crack of the paddle.

Tiffany was bawling now—a protracted, infantile cry. But running through the intensity of the pain was a thread of comfort. He was doing this for her own good, because he loved her.

* * *

He put her in the corner, where she stood like the good little girl she was, holding her skirt off her bright bottom. When he decided she’d been there long enough, Lance picked her up, carried her to the bedroom, and undressed her before laying her on the bed.

She did not cover herself, but lay there, all softness and curves—a lush childlike goddess, her youthful innocence and sensual allure the perfect sexual formula.

He could tell by the way she watched him with such adoration that she would always have to remind herself that he was okay with her weight, that she’d have to remind herself that he loved her, cherished her, and had always seen the beauty she was just beginning to realize.

He’d reinforce this message every time he fucked her—every time his hands roamed her full bottom, the swell of her belly, every time he squeezed her thick thighs, telling her how soft they were, how good they felt on either side of his head when he ate her pussy.
He’d reinforce it each time he told her how he loved her breasts, he said, so heavy and full, how he loved licking the large nipples. He’d tell her—sincerely and every chance he got—how he loved the feel of her plump arms and legs around him, clutching him tightly as he fucked her. He loved how she could take it—take it all. She was his cushion, his soft place, he told her. She was his perfect, plush little girl. And he loved her.

Tonight was the night he would take her ass. He’d been training her, and she’d loved secretly wearing the plugs in her ass as she went to the market or to a meeting.

Over time, she’d adjusted, until she’d finally worked her way up to the largest plug. It still wasn’t as large as her daddy’s cock, but she was looking forward to the extra stretch, of enduring the pain, of submitting to it, to him.

He was naked now, his cock already large from where it jutted half-mast from the nest of dark curls. Lance pulled the blanket away from her.

“Spread your legs, princess,” he said, and she obeyed, parting her thighs wide.

“Now touch yourself. I want to see your fingers on your pussy. I want to see you make yourself wet for daddy.”

His words alone already had her juices flowing; when her fingers moved between her thighs, she found herself all but dripping with need. She spread the shaved pouty outer lips, exposing the glossy, swollen petals of her inner flower. Tiffany worked her fingers over the sensitive folds of flesh, moving higher until her fingertips were moving in circles over the sensitive clit that had emerged from its fleshy hood.

She was already close to coming when Lance roughly moved aside her hands and pushed his face between her legs. She cried out her pleasure as he rammed his tongue into her pussy and then dragged it up to her clit, which he teased with darting stabs as she writhed and moaned. Lance pushed two fingers into her slick passage then as he latched onto the little pearl of her womanhood with his mouth. She came hard, screaming as her pussy clenched and clamped on his digits.

Tiffany was plunged into a shining world of pleasure. It was as if Lance were consuming her orgasm, swallowing it along with her juices. She felt helpless beneath his dominance, his power. She felt feminine and open and accessible. She felt mastered.

And she loved it.

When he raised himself up to ram his cock into her pussy, she was ready. She wrapped her soft thighs around his waist, and arched her back as he leaned down to raise one of her large breasts toward his mouth, suckling and biting on the tip even as he thrust into her. Tiffany reached back now, grasping the headboard, nearly mindless with this attention. Her breasts had always been sensitive, and Lance knew exactly when and how to fondle or nibble them in a way that pushed her over the edge.

She cried out again as his mouth left her breasts and moved up to her ear.

“My princess tastes and feels so good to her daddy,” he said huskily. “You’re mine, Tiffany. You’re mine, and don’t you ever forget that.”

“Oh, daddy!” she cried, curling her legs around his slim, strong hips in a hug of velvety softness that had him groaning. Tiffany could feel her pussy beginning to pulse, stroking and milking and coaxing the flood of seed that now entered her in spurts.

For several long moments, they lay together as their breathing regulated. When Lance rose from the bed, he turned Tiffany over and pulled her up on all fours on the edge of the bed, pushing her chest down on the bed so her bottom was elevated.

“I want to see my seed drip out of your pussy,” he said.

It was something he’d done since the night Tiffany had asked to clean herself after sex. It was a lesson, he said, in self-acceptance, and of her acceptance of his authority as her lover and daddy. Putting herself on display was now something she saw nearly as erotic as the act of sex itself. Just knowing Lance was behind her, watching as the seed he’d planted seeped from her pussy to run down her thighs, excited her.

But tonight there would be more. She could see him sitting in a chair across the room, stroking his long cock back to life as he stared at her spread vulva. Tiffany would stay exposed for as long as it pleased him, and when he was ready, he would come to the bed and finally take her one remaining virginity—her bottom.

When she saw him stand, his hand still stroking his cock, she felt a moment of delicious dread. He was so big and despite the training it just did not seem physically possible that she could take him.