Nurturing Britney - Becca Jameson Page 0,71

me, she needs a lot of time.”

“Yeah. I hope I can find an abundance of patience.”

Spike clasps me on the shoulder. “I know you can. You don’t have an option.”

He’s right. “Oh, her breakfast is still on the island if she wants it. If not, she’ll be hungry soon.”

“Let me guess, she spent breakfast standing in the corner.”

I nod. “With a sore bottom.”

He chuckles. “She’ll learn.”

I leave knowing that my hands were tied this morning. I have to meet with Lazinski, and there was no way I could leave Britney unprotected. Granted, I could have let her assume an adult role for the morning, but I didn’t think breaking out of her little space was a good idea. Besides, Spike is well-versed in age play, and she needs to learn to trust my judgment.

Chapter 22

Britney

I grab Bunny and then wander around in my bedroom for several minutes, listening as the garage opens and then Davis’s SUV pulls out. I hate that he’s left, but I don’t want to be a brat. He has to work. He can’t stay home with me all day every day. It’s not realistic.

When he told me Master Brett would be babysitting me, my stomach dropped. I’m not ready to share this side of me with someone else. Am I?

Master Brett seemed nice. Very nice. If I’d given him a chance, I’m sure I would have liked him. But I felt awkward and embarrassed, partly because I’m in my little space and partly because I’m still reeling from my first spanking and timeout.

My bottom is heated even now, but the sting from his swats had a stronger effect on my pussy than my butt cheeks. I was extremely aroused. That’s confusing. Davis said it’s normal, expected even. I can’t wrap my head around it. When I open my computer next time, I will look up the effects of spanking on littles.

A soft knock sounds at my bedroom door. “Britney, honey, do you want to watch cartoons?”

I stiffen. Cartoons? I haven’t seen cartoons since I was like five, and at the time I lived with older boys. They always picked stupid ones.

I find the strength to pad over to the door and open it. Daddy will be proud of me if I’m polite to his friend. I peek out, but keep my gaze downcast. “I guess,” I murmur.

He claps his hands together. “Great. Come on in the living room. I’ll see what I can find.”

I follow him, my arms crossed over my chest, Bunny squeezed against me, covering my nipples. I’m more embarrassed by my nipples than my stuffed animal, so I bring her along.

Master Brett flips through the channels on the television while I climb into the corner of the couch. I’m excited. I haven’t had a tv for a long time, and I can’t remember ever making my own selection. At every home I lived in, there were always several people far higher up the household totem pole as far as choosing the channel.

“How about this one?” Master Brett glances over his shoulder at me, and I nod. It looks cute.

He sets the remote down on the coffee table. “Master Davis said you didn’t finish your breakfast. Do you want it now?”

I shake my head. “No thank you, Sir.”

“How about some milk?”

“Okay.”

He smiles and heads back to the kitchen. He’s nice. Davis was right. I have no reason to be impolite to him. He’s just trying to help.

A few minutes later, he returns and holds out a cup. It’s one of my pink plastic cups only now it has a lid on it. I swallow my nerves as I take it from him. I’m thirsty, and I didn’t have breakfast. It feels weird drinking from a sippy cup, but I do it anyway. At least it won’t spill.

Master Brett cleans up the kitchen and then settles at the table with his laptop. I glance at him out of my peripheral vision from time to time.

The cartoon is funny, and I get lured in.

Eventually, I finish my milk and set the cup on the floor. I pull my knees up under me and lean against the arm of the couch, hugging Bunny. I’m not sure how long I stay awake but the next thing I know voices pull me out of my sleep and I look up to find Davis walking back into the house.

I’m so relieved and excited that I sit up too fast and get a head rush.

Davis leans over me and cups my

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