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Sara was placed with a daddy named Mark when Livvy, another little girl in the program, had gotten sick because of Sara's jealousy. Now, after two long months in the program, Sara has to get used to a whole new set of rules and the man who will enforce them: her Daddy will dominate her and take care of her in a special way no one ever has before. The witness protection program can't compare to her "protector".
Caity has been the unwanted child all her life. Her father hates her and her mother ran away years before. The only family she really has is her sister, who isn't in the program, yet. But Caity didn't choose her new Daddy... Will he be able to prove his love, or will he prove he is just like her real father?
Did Sara and Caity make the right choice, coming to the program instead of the State Penitentiary? Can they get along when Sara has taken the man Caity wanted all along? Emily Tilton and Abbie Adams team up to bring you the much requested story of the "other girls" in this, the third book in the 'A Little Training' and 'A Little Trouble' series
All the way home from Trace's house, Mark Canton couldn't believe that he actually had Sara in the back seat, buckled in, wearing the little sun-dress. Her blonde hair and blue eyes seemed somehow to sparkle in the sunlight that played upon her, from her lovely hair down to her little feet in their sandals, while the car moved onward and he watched in the rear-view mirror. He was harder, he thought, than he had ever been in his life, at the thought of what he would do when she was inside his house at last.
Trace had said he would have to keep her in line; that she had a past�the implication being a criminal past of some kind. He wasn't sure he was up to it, but he sure as Hell wanted to try. And he knew he had to start right away.
"Little girl," he said, over his shoulder, "How are you doing back there?"
"Call me Daddy, now."
His body's response took him a bit by surprise. Having this lovely teenager call him "Daddy" seemed to send fire running through his veins. He was glad that he had taken the time to plan the way things would go when they got through the door.
He pulled the BMW into the driveway of his beautiful modern Colonial at last.
Sara said, with wonder in her voice, "Is this your house, Daddy?"
"Yes, little Sara. And it's yours too, now. Now wait for Daddy to get you out of the car, okay?"
"Okay, Daddy," she replied, the tiniest bit of petulance creeping into her tone. He decided not to remark on it. There was plenty of time.
"All right, Sara," he said, when his little girl and her one suitcase were standing in the big foyer, "why don't we get your things up to your room?"
"I have my own room?"
Mark laughed. "Of course, sweetheart." Carrying her suitcase, he led her up the stairs, to the little room right next to his own master-suite.
"I don't get to sleep in there with you?" Sara asked, pointing at the master-suite and standing outside the door of her own pink-bedecked bedroom. The petulance was getting a little more noticeable. Mark wondered whether she had any control over it, or whether it just came out.
"Well," he said, looking at her seriously, "when Daddy brings you to his bed, you'll sleep there sometimes. But your room is where you'll sleep most nights."
"Will you� bring me there tonight?"
"I probably will, Sara, if you're good for me today. Daddy has been looking forward to having a little girl for a long time, and he wants to have big-girl time with you as soon as he can."
Sara blushed, and he thought for a moment she actually seemed happy, but then suddenly a look of defiance seemed to take hold of her face, and she narrowed her eyes and looked at him with hostility. "What if I don't want to?" she said.
Mark looked back at her levelly. "We're going to have big-girl time tonight whether you want it or not, Sara. Daddy can make big-girl time nice for you, or he can just have his way, and it won't be fun for you at all. I think you know that, don't you?"
Sara's delicate blush crept across her face, but she said nothing.
"I think you need to go into your room and lie down and think about the way you're acting right now, Sara," Mark said, sternly. This wasn't the way he had hoped it would go, but he had realized that some such situation might unfold, and he had prepared himself mentally for what he knew he would almost certainly have to do.
"No," she said, calmly.
"Last chance, sweetheart," Mark said. "I think you know what's going to happen if you don't do as I tell you."
"No," Sara said again.
Calmly, but quickly, Mark reached out, and took her by her upper left arm. When she struggled, he gripped more firmly, but only so as to immobilize her, and not so as to hurt her. He pulled her into her bedroom, where there was a big high-backed chair he had bought for exactly this purpose.
"Daddy!" Sara screamed, "I meant I don't know. I'll lie down! I'll do it."
"Nice try, young lady," Mark said. "I know exactly what you meant. I'm going to spank you so hard now that you won't be sitting down this evening. You need to understand that I expect obedience from you."
Without letting go of her, he reached for what he had put on the dresser that morning, before he had gone to Trace's house to pick Sara up. He held it up in front of his new little girl.
"Do you see this, Sara? This is your paddle." It was made of pink leather, three thicknesses stitched around its oval edge.
"Oh, Daddy, no," she pleaded.
"This is for when you are bad, and you are going to get it right now."
He sat, and pulled her over his lap. He pulled her red sundress up and her blue panties down, while she wailed in protest, and began to spank her with the paddle, hard. If she didn't get the message about what she had to expect in his house, it wouldn't be because he didn't send it forcefully enough.
Sara's lovely little cheeks grew red very quickly, as the paddle fell again and again. "Get that bottom up, Sara," Mark said, and Sara gripped the legs of the spanking chair and tried to comply, sobbing.
"Are you going to be a good girl for me, Sara?"
"Yes, Daddy," she sobbed.
"When Daddy tells you to lay down, are you going to do what Daddy says?"
Sara's bottom was a uniform blazing red, and the resistance had gone out of her. Mark stopped spanking, and rubbed her bottom while she wept.
"Very well," he said. "Go lie down, and I'll come get you in half an hour, and we can see the rest of the house and talk about how things will work around here."
Twenty-nine minutes later, he knocked softly at Sara's door, then opened the door gently to find that she had fallen asleep on her tummy, with her still-rather-red, extraordinarily shapely bottom exposed, and her panties still around her knees. Her face was turned toward the wall, away from him. He stood for a moment and looked down at his little girl, feeling a mixture of emotions�affection, lust, and even pride at having her there�that he could never have begun to untangle had he tried.
He sat down on the side of her bed, and the way his weight bounced her little body made her stir. He stroked her shoulder, and said, softly, "Wake up, Sara."
"Mmm," she said, turning her head so that he could see her pretty face, with its still-closed eyes.
He stroked her cheek with the backs of his fingers, loving the feel of the downy softness of her skin. "Time to wake up, sweetheart."
"Mmm, fell asleep," she said, opening her eyes. "Hi, Daddy."
"Hi, sweetie," he replied. "Do you want to get up and see the house?"
"Can I go pee, first?"
"Of course. Your bathroom is just across the hall."
"Um, what are the rules? I mean, about peeing?"
Mark was prepared for this. "You ask permission, and you leave the door open."
"Okay, Daddy," she said. "And you don't come in?"
"Sometimes I will," Mark said. "Not now."
Sara got up, pulled her panties back up and, with a little wince that undoubtedly originated from her well-punished backside, left for the bathroom. Mark stood up and stepped out into the hallway. He noted that the bathroom door was three-quarters closed, so that he couldn't see Sara on the toilet. He opened the door all the way.
"Completely open, Sara," he said, meeting her eyes where she sat on the toilet-seat, right as he heard the rushing sound of her pee coming out of her sweet little pussy and hitting the porcelain. She blushed, just as he'd hoped she would, and he felt a little light-headed knowing that he was her daddy, and could make these rules.
She made a very little pout, but said, "Okay, Daddy."
Partly out of principle and partly out of lust, he stood there and watched as she finished, dried herself, pulled up her pretty panties, and washed her hands, still blushing and unable to meet his eyes again.
He showed her the house, and she seemed delighted with everything�especially the swimming pool and the big playroom in the basement, which he had stocked not just with little-girl things but also with grown-up movies (it seemed she liked action flicks, which made him smile) for the big media center.
Should he show her the big-girl corner? How could he resist?
She was looking at the shelf of movies when he called her over to where he had put a discreet toy chest next to a little closet. There was a large piece of furniture there, too, somewhere between a bed and a very big couch, with firm cushions of various shapes and sizes lying on top of it. He watched her reaction carefully; it appeared that she didn't recognize the kinds of cushions he had there, which were specially designed to make certain positions possible, when a daddy was having big-girl time with his little girl.
Part of Mark wanted to take Sara's clothes off right then and there, and just have his way with her immediately, over those cushions that he had bought thinking of doing precisely that with her whenever he wanted. But there was something delicious in waiting, his cock straining against his jeans with every move she made.
And there was something wonderful about saying, "I want you to see what's in this closet and this chest, Sara," and opening it to show her the array of BDSM gear he had bought, and the vibrators and dildos and other toys that he couldn't wait to use with her.
She blushed as she saw how extensive the collection was, and her blush made him want to increase the shame. "Do you know what these things are for, Sara?"
"I think I do, Daddy," she whispered.
"What are they for?"
"For big-girl time."
"That's right, sweetheart. We're going to have a lot of big-girl time down here. Daddy wants to play with you with these toys. Do you know where this goes?" he asked, holding up a little pink butt plug.
Her blush deepened, and she nodded.
"Where does it go, sweetheart?"
"In my bottom," she whispered, unconsciously, it seemed, moving her right hand back behind herself, and touching her bottom to ward the little plug off, or perhaps to imagine what it might feel like.
"That's right, Sara. In your little bottom. Has anyone ever put a plug in your bottom before?"
She shook her head, looking up into his eyes with a mixture of fear and wonder.
"But you had enemas at Uncle Trace's house, didn't you?"
She nodded, hesitantly.
"Well, it will feel a little bit like that, but when I put this in your bottom it will have to stay there for a while."
"Because Daddy will want to see it there. Why do you think I'll like that?"
Sara frowned in puzzlement. "I don't know, Daddy."
"Because it means that you're my little girl, and I'm the one who gets to do such grown-up things with you. Nobody else is allowed to put a little plug in your bottom, and when I see you wearing it while you're playing, or reading, or just walking around, it will make me feel good."
"Oh," she said, looking thoughtful. "Daddy?"
Her mouth twisted a bit, charmingly, as if she were going to confess something she wanted kept only between her and her daddy. Then she said, hesitantly, "What if I told you that I would like to have the little pink plug in my bottom for you?"
Mark could hardly believe his ears. This didn't seem like the dynamic Trace had discussed with him. Trace had said that Sara would be reluctant, but that he was sure Mark would be able to figure out when to be strict and when to be kind. The thought that Sara wanted to wear the butt plug that he had picked out, when he'd been sure that he would have to spend a very long time working up to making her accept it in her sweet pink bottom-hole, changed things in his thinking that he would need some time to sort out.
"Would you like me to put it in right now?" he asked, feeling his cock swell against the front of his jeans yet again.
Sara cast her eyes to the floor of the playroom and said, very softly, "If you want, Daddy."
"All right, sweetheart," he said. "Why don't you get over the big cushion on the couch, there. Daddy's going to get some lube."
When he returned, she was arrayed so that his first sight of her was her backside in the red sundress. It was straight out of his fantasies, as he took hold of the hem of the dress and lifted it, once again exposing her pretty blue panties. Slowly and gently, he pulled them down to her knees. She whimpered a little at the sensation, as he rubbed her bottom, where only a little of the redness of her spanking lingered. "Shh," he said softly, putting some lube upon his fingers, "Shh, little Sara. Daddy's going to be very gentle with your bottom today. You're a good girl to want to wear the plug for me."
He looked at her tiny, cringing anus for a long moment, thinking about how many things, both gentle and strict, he wanted to do there, and then, for the very first time, he touched it, with the lube-covered middle finger of his right hand. Sara yelped at the coolness of it, and said, "Oh, Daddy! It's so chilly!"
"Hush, sweetheart," he said. "Daddy needs to get you ready for the plug."