Playing a Little (12 page)

“I’m done,” she announced shyly as she entered the large kitchen. Erik raised his brow, looking up from the stove that was built on a marble island/bar.

“Good girl. Have a seat while I finish. I am making spaghetti and meatballs.”

“Do I have to? I mean…”

“Yes, you have to. I gather you are still a bit tender.”

“Yeah… It hurt. Bad. And I have a blister on my finger,” Camille said, looking down.

“A punishment spanking is not meant to hurt good, baby girl. Let me see your finger. I don’t see any blisters.” He kissed the offended digit.

“It might hafta get amputated,” she pouted. “Writing lines is as bad as spankings. And even worser than corner time.”

“My little drama queen. Trying to dictate your punishment, are you? I have never seen a finger fall off from writing lines. Here,” he handed her a glass of cherry Kool-Aid. “You need to hydrate a bit. You did a lot of crying.”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what, baby? Crying? I expected you to do that. It
was
a spanking, after all,” he said humorously, tasting the sauce before adding a handful of bay leaves. “Damn, I’m a good cook.”

“And humble,” Camille added. “No, I’m not sorry ‘cuz I cried.” Her voice grew smaller as she fidgeted. “I’m sorry I was bad and made you have to do that.”

Erik set the spoon down to study her. Camille felt herself wanting to slide under the countertop to avoid his gaze, but instead looked at the floor.

“Cami?” His warm voice washed over her. “How old are you?”

Camille felt her face tingle. How could she tell him? He would never, ever accept it!

“I dunno.”

“I see. You can take a few minutes to figure it out. Let me have your book, please.”

“But…” True panic set in as he held his hand out to her. “I told you I dided it!”

Did I just say ‘dided
’? Camille realized, appalled at her own regression. Erik did not seem to mind; otherwise wouldn’t he have corrected her speech? He was well known for that in the circles of actors, constantly reprimanding the use of poor grammar and misplaced words. Even back when he had shot the scene with her, he had corrected her costar, Jerry, so many times that the humiliated young man avoided saying a word around the seasoned actor. Camille had to admit that she enjoyed that rare time of not hearing Jerry talk. She guessed that the rest of the cast and crew felt the same.

“Your book, young lady,” Erik’s stern command jarred her to the present. She bit back a new onslaught of tears as she handed it to him, facing the floor after it left her hand.

“Very good. Very, very good,” he said, thumbing through the pages. Camille glanced up to see him raise his brow.
Oh my God
, she flushed fiercely,
he noticed
! “You can put this on the living room table for me. Lunch will be ready in about ten more minutes.”

“Can I go put something else on? I’m cold,” Camille asked timidly.

“You
may
,” he corrected with a small smile. “We aren’t going out again today, so just be comfortable.”

“’Kay,” Camille said, hopping off the chair and running out of the room. She hesitated as she arrived at the nursery, debating if she should go inside and dress like she really felt,
No
, she decided against it, heading toward her ‘pre-teen room.’
Besides, if I was really that little, I would need help.

If Erik was surprised that she had donned a set of soft, light blue sweats with a rhinestone guitar on the front, he did not say so. He did comment about the disarray of her hair and ordered her to return with a hairbrush and a scrunchie. Camille quickly obeyed, avoiding the large, ugly wooden brush that he had left on her bed and grabbing instead the plastic ‘ouchless’ brush that cooperated best with her thick mass of tangles.

He stood behind her, running the brush through her hair, and Camille found herself pulling away.

“What’s wrong? I thought you liked me brushing your hair.”

“Yeah, but I like sitting on the floor when you do it. Is that okay?” Camille asked hesitantly.

“Baby girl, anything is okay with me, as long as you are comfortable with it,” Erik said, sitting on the couch and patting his leg. Camille settled down carefully between his knees and leaned forward to allow him to brush.

“Thanks,” she whispered, closing her eyes.

“I mean it, honey. Anything is okay with me if it makes you happy,” Erik said, running his finger through her hair before gently pulling it into a French braid, “especially if you want to call me Daddy.”

Camille sunk her face in her hands.
How could he even think of bringing that up?!
He put the brush down and placed both hands on either side of her face, drawing her backwards and lifting her chin to make her look up at him. He kissed her forehead, looking down at her.

“I really would love it if you could call me Daddy. No one has ever given me that honor. Would you do that for me?”

Camille felt a rush of different emotions racing through her. She could only nod her response and then close her eyes as he leaned forward and gave her a soft, gentle upside-down kiss on the lips. It was sweet, nurturing, and the most wonderful thing she could ever remember receiving. She melted against him, feeling truly safe and, even more important, that she was wanted.

He continued to stroke the side of her face as she leaned against him. With a deep sigh, he pulled her up onto his lap and held her lovingly, rocking her gently as she, again, released a new set of tears.

“How old are you, Cami-girl?” He whispered the question in her ear.

Camille hesitated before answering, “I dunno. Four, maybe?”

“That’s more like it. You are a good girl, and you have made Daddy very, very happy. Thank you. We still have some things to talk about, though.”

Camille responded by wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her face against his chest, deeply inhaling his scent. He was not the only one who was happy at that moment, although she did not know even where to begin during their ‘talk.’

The buzzer rang fifteen minutes later, announcing that dinner was ready. As they ate, Camille continued to shift uncomfortably in her chair. It was not due to her aching backside, although that added to her discomfort. Rather it was from the knowing looks that Erik cast in her direction as he waited for her to tell him what had occurred within her.

“You can’t go forever without talking to me about this, you know,” he said softly. “I promise to never tease or judge you. I know you trust me, otherwise we would not be sitting here together right now.”

“It’s stupid. I don’t wanna discuss it.”

“How about if I tell you a secret? One about how I was introduced to age-play, and what I went through as I discovered my own needs? Would that help make you feel more comfortable?”

Camille sat up, suddenly interested. “I dunno. You’re really gonna tell me a secret?” Erik suppressed a smile at her response, the corners of his mouth struggling not to move as she kicked the leg of the table like an impatient child.

“A real secret. One that no one in the whole world knows. Not even Arty. A secret that will just be between Daddy and his special Cami-girl.”

Camille nodded, her curiosity piqued. Erik stood up, picking the plates up off the table. “Let’s clean up our mess and then go to the tower. It is the only place in this whole house where a real secret can be shared.”

“Because there aren’t no cameras?”

“Yes, because there aren’t
any
cameras,” Erik nodded, putting the dishes in the dishwasher and then holding his hand out for her. “But before we go up there, do you want to dress in something more age-appropriate?”

Camille nodded, chewing on her lower lip. She could not resist his lead as he drew her down closer to the age that she was feeling. They entered the nursery and he sat her on the rocking chair before he began to rummage through the drawers. With an armful of clothing, he sat on her little bed and beckoned.

“Come to Daddy, honey girl. Let’s get you dressed.”

Camille silently obliged, and stood before him nervously. He began to hum as he peeled her sweats from her body, leaving her standing in her bra and bikini panties. He shook his head.

“These are way too old for you, my love. Let’s start with a little undershirt. You don’t need this,” he said, deftly unhooking the bra and pulling it off her shoulders. Camille felt her body tense slightly. “Relax. I am just dressing you. Arms up.”

Camille had to admit to herself that she was a little disappointed that he had not taken that moment to touch her small breasts. She had been fantasizing about the feel of his hands on her body since the bubble bath episode and the presence of his fingers so close to her nipples caused her to ache for his touch. Erik kissed the back of her hand and smiled reassuringly before lifting the white cotton panties covered with tiny pink and purple balloons.

“These are so much cuter, don’t you agree? Hold Daddy’s shoulders while I change you. That’s my girl,” his low, gentle voice praised as Camille placed her little hands upon the flats of his shoulders. She bit her lip as she felt his shoulder muscles move as he reached down to slide the ‘big girl’ panties from her body. He patted her rump, signaling her to step out of the bikinis and lift her foot for the new ones. There was something different in how he handled her now, more intimate and nurturing than before. She could not put a label on it except that it simply felt right.

He chatted lightly as he dressed her in a My Little Pony t-shirt and pale pink sweat pants, My Little Pony socks with tiny purple ruffles and sparkly purple sneakers. He left her hair in the French braid, but added a purple satin bow to the end ‘for cuteness sake,’ he explained.

“All done! No daddy could ever have asked for a prettier little girl. Go on. Take a look,” he encouraged. Camille swallowed anxiously before walking across the room to the mirrored closet door. Her hand flew up to her mouth as she observed herself. She
was
cute! Even her freckles seemed to fit into the design of the outfit and made her look more adorable. She looked up in the mirror to see Erik standing behind her.

“I told you that you were
bee-you-ti-ful
,” he grinned, hands on her shoulders. “You just needed to see for yourself.”

“It’s this outfit…” Camille began to argue.

“No, it’s you. This, darling,” he made her look in the mirror again, “is all you. You absolutely glow in this experience, honey. You were made for it. Now, are you ready to hear my secret? Good! Let’s go hide in the tower.”

Camille released a nervous twitter as he snatched her hand in his. He led her toward the tower room and smacked her lightly on the backside to make her hurry up the stairs. After settling her on his lap and covering them both with a soft blanket, he began to tell his story.

“I had just turned eighteen when I was doing a movie with an associate of Arthur’s. She was much older than I was, in her forties, and build like a gorgeous Amazon. She played the part of my father’s mistress and was scripted to seduce me. For a fairly naive teenage boy, it was nothing but torture to watch her walk around the set half-naked and, even more, have her practice her lines on me. It was, needless to say, embarrassing for me on many levels.” He pointed to his crotch.

“One morning after we shot one of the scenes, she called Arthur and told him that she was going to take me out to lunch. Well, I was not expecting what she had planned. She took me to her apartment, closed the door behind her, and ordered me to strip.”

“That is terrible!”

“One would think so now, but not a horny kid,” Erik chuckled. “Unfortunately, I was
too
horny, and no sooner did I take off my pants than I came all over myself. I will honestly say that was one of the most embarrassing moments of my life. Until she stepped in to intervene.”

Erik shifted, pausing uncomfortably. “I have never told this to anyone. As far as Arty is concerned, she simply took my virginity. But there was more. She… she scolded me for being a bad little boy, grabbed my ear, and pulled me into the bedroom. She sat on the bed and before I knew it, I was lying across those soft thighs being spanked on the bare bottom. She had an arm on her, too! I mean, it hurt! But not as much as the hairbrush she started using. I came again, all over those delicious thighs, and earned another punishment. She blackmailed me into putting on diapers.”

“Oh my…” Camille held her hands in front of her mouth, her eyes wide with astonishment and horror. “How could anyone be so awful?”

“I was so humiliated and ashamed. She made me crawl around on the floor like a baby, reducing me to tears with her scolding. She then sat on the floor and took a breast out, and called me to come lie in her arms so that I could suck on it. I have to admit,
that
was rather pleasant.”

“What happened next?”

“The predictable,” Erik sighed. “I got hard. But that was what she was hoping for. I spent the next six hours either having sex, being spanked, or in a diaper. And she would not let me use the bathroom either. The experience did, however, steer me in the direction of age-play and spanking. I wanted the submission and control to be different, though. More caring and nurturing, with purpose in mind other than to get my sexual needs met. And I knew that I wanted to be on the giving, not the receiving, end. You can understand now why I kept this a secret. If anyone ever found out…”

“Your secret is safe with me. I swear. I think she was a horrible, mean old lady. You were just a boy and that was wrong. Like when Jerry…” Camille froze mid-sentence. She felt Erik stiffen.

“What did that little bastard do, Camille?”

“Nothin’. He just insulted me all the time,” Camille said quickly, shrinking in his arms.

“You are lying to me.”

“Just forget I said anything. Please.”

“I will not. Tell me. Now. I am not playing games, young lady. I am dead serious about this.”

Erik’s tone took on a timbre that frightened her. Slowly, she spilled out how her costar had started to insult and demean her when she was only eleven. The young man was cute, popular, and made a habit of reminding her that she had no hope of getting a boyfriend because of her ugly face and skinny, tit-less body. She was ashamed of how she looked, his words reinforcing the ones she had heard from her mother ever since she could remember. In a desperate attempt to be accepted by the older boy, she fell victim to his lies and catered to his every whim in a useless attempt to win his approval and maybe some respect.