Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 33104 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 166(@200wpm)___ 132(@250wpm)___ 110(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33104 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 166(@200wpm)___ 132(@250wpm)___ 110(@300wpm)
Daddy comes in several minutes later. I don’t even call out to him. I just wait for him to check on me in the monitor. He’s smiling as he takes care of me, and then he sets me on my feet and pats my bottom. “Would you like to play in the backyard for a while, baby girl?”
“Yes, Daddy.” I rush that direction, getting used to the bulk between my legs.
Daddy sits on the porch working on his laptop while I play. At one point, he steps inside for a moment and returns holding a package. Something that must have been delivered. He sets it on the table next to his computer and keeps working.
When I grow bored, I wander over and climb up to sit on the chair next to his.
He smiles at me. “Done playing?”
“Yes, Daddy.” I’m content to sit here and watch him. I love watching him. He’s so confident and imposing when he’s working. His brow furrows, but not from stress or anger, just concentration. It’s hot as hell.
He sits back after a few minutes and meets my gaze. “Tomorrow we start your summer schedule. I’ve got a strict routine planned. I have to start working from the home office, and you’ll sit in there with me and work on your research for three hours in the morning and three hours in the afternoon.”
I groan.
He chuckles. “No arguments. If you do your work every day like that, you’ll finish your thesis by the end of the summer and no longer have it weighing over you.”
I’d imagined it taking far longer than three months to finish. After all, I’ve been slacking, and I’m behind on my timeline, but if he enforces that kind of work ethic, I’ll definitely finish it before the end of the summer. “Yes, Daddy.”
He reaches for the small package and opens it to pull out a pink padlock. He hands it to me, his eyes dancing.
I take it from him. It’s kind of heavy, like the sort of thing someone might use to lock a bicycle. “What’s it for, Daddy?” I’m more than a little curious. The fact that it’s pink means it has something to do with me. The fact that it’s a lock makes me squirm with excitement. I hope it’s for my person somehow and not for my stroller.
He winks. “It’s a surprise. You’ll find out tomorrow.”
I giggle, imagining him locking me to my desk chair or something. I can’t wait to find out what it’s intended use is. It’s all I can do to keep from begging him to tell me now.
The rest of the day is spent relaxing. I drink my afternoon bottle, Daddy has dinner, and we watch another movie. Then it’s time for my bath and my nighttime bottle. I go to sleep warm and content in my footed jammies, my wrists strapped to the siderails of my crib, a smile on my lips.
Chapter Nine
I’m anxious with anticipation, unable to forget the pink padlock, when Daddy ushers me into the home office the next morning. I’m not looking forward to booting up my laptop and doing grownup work for three hours, but I know I don’t have a choice.
Daddy has set up a perfect workspace for me with a desk and ergonomic chair that will be comfortable enough to sit in for long periods of time. My butt sure won’t hurt with all the padding.
Daddy sits down in his own desk chair and motions me forward. “Come here, baby girl.”
I waddle toward him, excited and a little shocked when I see the harness from yesterday on his desk. When he picks it up, I hold out my arms in anticipation so he can arrange the straps on my shoulders and work on the rest of the crisscross of nylon.
I’m confused because I thought he wanted me to work for the next three hours, and now he’s preparing me as if we’re going to go out for a walk. When I see the pink padlock on his desk, my mind starts to consider the possibilities, settling on the idea that he’s going to somehow lock my leash to the desk so I can’t get away.
I can’t lie. This excites me. I may not understand this strange new attraction for such confining bondage, but I’m starting to get used to it.
It takes far less time to get me strapped in than yesterday now that the nylon strips are already adjusted to fit me. Before I know it, Daddy has cinched it up tight, practically lifting me off the floor as he gives a final tug.
I can’t resist the question on the tip of my tongue. “What’s the lock for, Daddy? Are you going to tether me to the desk leg?”
He chuckles. “No, but that’s not a bad idea. I’ll order a second one if it comes to that. I expect you to sit on that chair without getting up for any reason for the next three hours without needing to be cuffed to the desk,” he teases. “Surely you can manage that, especially now that you don’t even need bathroom breaks and have no reason to use them as an excuse to stall.”