Sadie's Little Christmas - Maren Smith Page 0,22

She physically, deeply, desperately ached to be touched by something—someone—other than her own fingers.

She shouldn’t. She didn’t understand it. She didn’t want to want it, but she did.

“I’m sorry I took so long,” he said, coming into the dressing room and closing the door behind him. “I had to call down to the kitchen, then picked up a few extras from the gift shop.”

He set the sack he’d brought on the floor just inside the door and reached into it, drawing out a long white-and-pink box with an electric wand inside, ten speed with multiple pulse patterns. Her mouth ran dry.

“Take off your uniform. It’s much too old for a naughty little girl like you.” Pausing in the middle of taking the wand out of its box, he pinned her with a knowing look when she opened her mouth. “Try me,” he dared. “Tell me again how Little you’re not when I just caught you in here petting your pretty kitty without permission because you’re so turned on by what’s happening, you can’t even wait until bedtime.”

She burned. “No, I… it’s… it’s not like that!” she protested, although it tasted like a lie.

“No?” He seemed to know it, too. “What is it like, then?”

She fiddled uncomfortably with one of her long braids, struggling to find some way to answer but unable to think of anything to say.

“Take off your uniform,” he told her again. “Or are you so little, Daddy needs to help you?”

She caught herself mid-foot stomp and whine-bounce. She wasn’t Little. She wasn’t!

Was she?

Huffing, she bent to unbuckle her shoes, but he stopped her.

“Shoes and socks stay on. Everything else, off.”

Bowing her head, she would have turned away. If she couldn’t see him, then he couldn’t see her either, right? Except the dressing room was so small, and she had nowhere she could look, she didn’t see him either directly or in the mirrors. Worse than that, no matter where she looked, she couldn’t help but see the things he was unpacking.

The minute he had the wand unpacked, he shook out the cord and plugged it into the outlet built into the floor. The hum, low and loud, made her blood vibrate in her veins.

“You can’t use that!” she squeaked, appalled because there was no way everyone in the store could have helped but hear that. As far as she knew, they were the only two people in the store—well, apart from Grant—but, still, that could change at any moment, and who was standing lookout?

“Can’t I?” he challenged. “I seem to recall you signed the clause in your contract saying you were open to sexual exploration, including but not limited to orgasm punishments.”

“Well… yeah. Because orgasms aren’t punishments.” Except maybe orgasms delivered in public. That was just too embarrassing.

Derek actually stopped in the middle of setting the wand aside so he could dig back into the bag. He looked at her, shocked at first, then he laughed.

“Darlin’,” he censured. “Oh, that’s cute. Take off your clothes.”

With trembling fingers, she unbuttoned her shirt, untucking it from her skirt while she watched him remove a small plastic baggy with what looked like a thick yellowish root vegetable inside. “What is that?”

“Ginger root. Have you had experience with anal before?”

“Anal?” she squeaked all over again.

“If you’re not naked by the time I’ve unpacked this sack,” he said, drawing out two belt-like straps with plastic snap-and-click buckles, “not only will I strip you naked, I will spank your bottom very loudly right here in the dressing room. I guarantee that’ll be heard in every corner of the store.”

Sadie shrugged out of her shirt, dropping it on the bench. Blushing furiously, her pussy fluttering with eager anticipation, she had no choice but to follow with her skirt and bra. Then she stood there, watching in dread and breathlessness as he pulled out a long, pink-sparkled dildo. It was big. Maybe not as large as the bulge in the front of Derek’s jeans alluded his own cock to be, but it was still sizeable.

Clasping her hands tightly over her sex, she tried her best to still the quivers growing wilder inside her.

The dreaded diaper came out next, followed by a small bottle of powder, a white mini dress—sure enough, with yellow ducklings around a hem that didn’t extend anywhere near far enough to hide the diaper from view—and a thick blue mat.

The mat he spread over the bench behind her. “Lie down on your back.”

Lie down? She looked at the diaper, surprised, wondering how