Sadie's Little Christmas - Maren Smith Page 0,20
um… Sir?” she tried, but ‘sir’ wasn’t the honorific that first sprang to her lips. It was just the safest, and she used it because she wasn’t just shameful, she was a coward.
He tipped his head, studying her in silence before accepting it.
“Not the word I was looking for, but I’ll take it. For now.”
As if he’d never had to stop and scold her, Derek turned back to the salesperson, once more all business.
“So, since she loathes the twelve-year-old uniform so intensely, I think we should try something different.”
“Very well,” Grant said, every bit as professional. “What do you have in mind?”
“That depends. What do you have for, say, a six-year-old?”
Surprise flashed hot as a bonfire through her, sending the heated arousal scorching all through her, even hotter than before. It seared away everything, leaving her awash only in the pulse and throb of her desperately needy clit—and the overwhelming shame. The first thing she thought of was that blue dress and crawling up into Da—Derek! Derek’s lap to grind on the bulge of his cock while her nipples scraped his chest through both their clothes and his handsome mouth teased and coaxed kiss after breathless kiss from his little girl.
Sadie flung herself back from both him and the counter, as appalled as she was aroused. “I’m not a little girl!”
“My mistake,” Derek said smoothly. “Let’s go four years old.”
“I have the most darling white dress with little yellow duckies on the trim,” Grant supplied as if he’d never heard her protests, as if she wasn’t even there.
“No!” She stomped her foot, she was so frustrated.
“Throw a fit in public, I’ll spank you in public,” Derek warned.
He would, too. She could see it in his weirdly relaxed yet ready stance. Her bottom could already feel the smacks, like mini echoes of what Mr. Paddle had done back in his office, yet unlike in his office, when what he’d done had hurt so badly, the echoes only fed her desire. She couldn’t take another of his spankings, and she knew they both knew it. Yet here he stood, challenging her to continue testing him if she needed to. And here she stood, every waking nerve in her body humming with the need to do exactly that, to push and push and see if he wouldn’t… What? Push back?
He wasn’t going to push at all… he was going to spank!
The need in her exalted. Common sense retreated, quieting everywhere except in the very, very back of her mind, where only mere whispers of it begged for caution.
Don’t do it.
But she was shaking, yet flying, the feeling almost exactly how it had felt back when she just could not get enough of the scintillating pleasure/pain her roommate was inflicting all over her body.
She stamped her foot again, her hands balling into fists, the tightness inside her so tense, it felt as if she were being held together by tension strings, which were on the verge of snapping free.
“I won’t let you!” she shouted. “You can’t treat me like this if I don’t want you to!”
“Two years old,” Derek decided. “Complete with diaper and pacifier gag. Unless, of course, Sadie, you’d like to go even younger? Would you like to spend the next week wearing only onesies, crawling on the floor everywhere you go, forced not only to wear a diaper, but to use it too?”
Gaping, she shook her head. “N-No!”
“Back to the dressing room,” he told her. “Go on. I’ll be there in a moment.”
That sounded like more of a threat than a promise, but the whole way back to the dressing room, while every step felt heavy with dread and uncertainty, those shivery orgasmic throbs continued to pulse and sing inside her.
Please, please, please don’t let him put a diaper on me. But once again, her wayward brain ran with the fantasy of him stripping away her clothes, leaving her standing naked before him, open to his every whim and to the caressing touch of his hands. Already her nipples were peaking for pinches he wasn’t here to give her and had made no effort to take.
Entering the dressing room, she came face-to-face with her own reflection in the mirrors. She looked… flustered, but she wasn’t. She was hopelessly aroused, and the longer she spent with Derek, the worse it got. She hated this stupid uniform… well, maybe not entirely, but close enough. She hated the braids more… although she had liked it when he brushed her hair.
Why, oh why, did he