Little Packages Ch. 02

A quick author's note:

When I wrote this, it was designed to be stand alone if people hated it or just ignored it. But if a few people liked it and the reviews were kind, I had more stories I could tell with these characters.

There is no way I would have predicted it would get such a high rating, that so many people would comment, and that they would say such kind and encouraging things. So thank you. I'm genuinely floored.

I've already started work on Chapter 3, although maybe don't expect me to turn out 19,000 words in a week like I did with this. I've notes on Chapter 4 and beyond. I don't know how long it will run, but I promise it will have an ending.

One minor note. In the last story I said Ashley goes to Laval. Turns out Laval has a design school, but it is graphic design. Further research turned up LaSalle, which is a fashion design college in Montreal. Going forward, that's where Ashley attends school.

Because we all know how important accuracy is in pornography.

Onwards.

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Ashley

I sat by myself in the train, enjoying the luxury of not having someone sit next to me. I normally get stuck sitting next to someone who views a tiny person as an opportunity to expand their personal space by moving into mine. I often bundle up in puffy coats or hoodies on public transit and keep to myself which, I dunno, seems to signal to a certain kind of person that what I really want is for them to get as close as possible and give me an anxiety attack.

But it was my lucky day as nobody sat next to me. I had a puffy coat on the seat next to me, but that rarely worked as a deterrent. And I doubt my outfit was scaring anyone off - I had on a black baseball hat with a bat symbol on it, a black mini-dress with red trim and mostly black thigh high socks with red stripes at the top (daddy likes me in thigh high socks, daddy's getting me in thigh high socks). I looked pretty cute if I do say so myself.

My red hair might scare some off. You know what they say about redheads. But if I had to guess it was likely the frantic energy radiating off of me. Some might say I was giving off a crazy lady vibe. Which was fine with me if it meant I didn't have someone with a "wide stance" in the seat next to me. Because soon I would see my daddy again and that meant I didn't have the brain power to deal with creepy assholes.

Well, that and I had been edging since Wednesday to get myself ready for the weekend. I was already super horny and struggled to focus in classes this morning. I warned him that I needed my daddy this weekend and I was probably going to be little for a lot of the next couple of days, if that was ok. He said he'd take good care of me.

Over the last two weeks we'd texted back and forth on how our daddy-little girl relationship was going to work. He was big on making sure we were on the same page which, after years of being talked to it was nice, although a bit intimidating sometimes. I did tell him that I often needed to be little when I was either really stressed or really horny.

That led him to ask how school was since I came back from comic con and I told him it was fine. But even as I texted that to him, it felt like something a kid in Grade 7 says when a parent asks how their day went. It wasn't fine, but you're not telling mom and dad that because you don't want them involved in your drama. Fine covered a wide range of sins. Were my classes fine? Sure, I was getting good grades and I enjoyed what I was learning. Things were fine.

Were my classmates spectacular assholes determined to bully and torture me? Why, yes they were. But things were fine.

I thought Heather and Lesley would be bad after we returned from the con; I just underestimated how awful the reality would be. When I got to class the Monday after the con I discovered they'd started a rumor that I'd whored myself out to a creepy old dude at the comic con for some geek stuff I wanted. The fact I was still wearing daddy's collar with the lock on it only made things worse. For a lot of the last two weeks I was getting stares, people whispering and pointing, and laughter behind my back on a regular basis.

Some part of me knew I should fight back, find that anger I had at the con when I told them to fuck off and leave me alone. But I just couldn't locate it. I had always avoided the queen bitches in high school. I just couldn't sustain the viciousness and delight they seemed to take in trying to ruin people's lives. I could sprint; they ran marathons.

I remember being told it would be different when I got to college. That all the pettiness and drama would get left behind. Then I went to fashion school. All it did was level up.

I kept thinking if I could just cosplay in class I would be ok. I could pretend to be Batgirl or Black Widow and give them a look that let them know I could kick the crap out of them anytime I want. I could pretend I was strong.

That didn't happen. However, I did start wearing the Batgirl t-shirt I "borrowed" from daddy to go to sleep at night. That helped. It made him feel closer.

At least I had my roommate, Gillian. We had little in common, but when I answered her ad looking for a roommate we hit it off immediately. I was doing fashion design, she was studying video game design. She had a good 6 inches on me and buzzed her hair. She had no concept of fashion and didn't care much for anything not on her computer. She was also, proudly, a dyke. But we'd both grew up in small towns - me in Saskatchewan, her in Northern Ontario. We'd both been picked on for who we were. I was a weird geeky kid who made early bad choices with drugs, alcohol and men because I needed to be loved. Gillian didn't talk much about what had happened, but I saw scars on her body one time when I walked in on her getting out of the shower. So it wasn't good.

She had zero tolerance for bullies and assholes, which made video game design an interesting career to pursue, but she lived for a good online brawl. So when she found out what Heather and Lesley were doing to me, she was ready to go and beat the shit out of them. I had to talk her down from it.

"I know they're being bitches," I started.

"Fuck that. Some of my best friends are bitches. They are cunts," she said, her jaw snapping hard on the last word, to emphasize the point.

I laughed. Gillian loved the word cunt. She'd read online that the Scots viewed the word as punctuation. She liked that line of thought and immediately subscribed to it. We were sitting in the tiny living room, chatting to each other over our laptops. I was looking at cosplay from the con on Instagram and making notes for future costumes. Gillian was multitasking between studying, Twitter fights, and porn.

"Seriously, what kind of cunt does that? Making someone feel like shit just because you think it makes you look better? Fucking people like that need a good shitkicking."

"Daddy doesn't have much time for bullies either. If I told him what was going on, he'd lose his shit."

She nodded her head approvingly. She'd obviously noticed the collar when I came home and pumped me for information, which I gave up quickly. She was skeptical about the kind of man interested in a 19-year-old girl, but when I told her I'd thrown myself at him, she just thought I was nuts as opposed to him being a total scumbag.

She didn't get the daddy thing, but she was gay, so that was a given. I told her to imagine being with an older, successful woman who would take care of her, let her zone out when things got too stressful, and she would get to have spectacular sex with this woman and in return all she had to do was call her "mommy". The dreamy look in her eyes said it all. After that, she at least understood the appeal so she didn't give me any more crap about it.

"You should still tell him," she said, turning her attention back to her screen. She was definitely watching porn. "If he cares about you, he'll help you figure it out and not just rush up here to kick the shit out of them, as much as the cunts deserve it."

I said I'd think about it. And now, here I was, minutes away trying to figure out how to tell him what was happening that didn't involve him driving to Montreal and yelling at people. I knew how hard the last two years had been for him. I just wanted to make him happy, not give him more problems.

Plus, there was a lot going on this weekend. The con was one thing, this was an entire weekend of just the two of us. I was pretty sure things were going to go well. Almost certainly they would. So maybe I'll wait until the next time before talking to him about it. Just to take a little pressure off.

But then the train is pulling into the station, and I'm wrangling this stupid overloaded suitcase out of train and then I see daddy and everything blisses out and, for the first time in two weeks, I feel safe again.

***

I'm sitting in daddy's very boring and practical black car with my legs curled up underneath me. I'm shivering a bit because Kingston is cold and I'm wearing a mini-skirt. I also might have neglected to wear panties and the seat is cold which means my ass is numb. Daddy glances over and sees me bundled up and flicks a button. The seat immediately starts to warm up, making my butt warm for the first time in hours.

"Ohhhh, that's nice, daddy," I said. "Maybe this isn't such a boring car after all."

Ooops. Said the quiet part out loud. I do that sometimes when I'm nervous.

"I have a boring car, do I, little girl? Maybe I should trade it in and get a sports car. If I have a teenage girlfriend I might as well completely dive into the middle age man cliche," he said.

I could tell from the look on his face that he was teasing. I liked looking at him. He looks so much happier than the first time I saw him at the con in New York. He looks relaxed. His jaw is less tight, there are fewer lines around his eyes and his shoulders are relaxed. He looks happy to see me. I feel lighter just looking at him.

"I always thought that men who got sports cars when they hit a certain age were compensating for an...absence in their life. That they're lacking something," I said. And then I remembered. "Oh, and the same thing with big ass pick-ups. God, I saw so many large pick-ups in Saskatchewan. You just knew they had small dicks."

He roared laughing. I felt myself getting even lighter listening to him laugh like that. Then he glanced over at me, looking very serious.

"Do I need to get a big ass pick-up, little girl?" he said in a deep and serious tone.

I leaned over, rested my hand on his upper thigh and gave him my best lustful little girl look. "You've got nothing to compensate for, daddy," I purred.

He smiled and bent down to kiss my head while still keeping an eye on the road.

"Good answer, princess."

I bounced back in my seat, squirming that I'd made my daddy happy and that my butt was warm.

"By the way, what on Earth do you have in that suitcase? Did you finally kill Heather or Lesley and you need to dispose of the body on the land behind my house?"

"I wish," I said a little too quickly. Shit. He gave me a look.

"Can we talk about it later, daddy? I'm just really happy now and I don't want to get into that."

He nodded. "Fair enough. So what's in the suitcase? All your sex toys?"

"Daddy!" I squealed, blushing. I had a small vibrator and that was it. When I needed to get off I normally just used my fingers. Not many sex shops in small town Saskatchewan and I'd been too nervous going into one by myself in Montreal. Gillian had an extensive collection, but it's not like I could borrow something.

"Judging by your reaction, I'm going to go with no. But seriously, what's in there?"

"I thought I'd save time and bring a bunch of outfits that I could just leave here so that in the future I could travel lighter," I said.

"Makes sense."

"Plussss," I drawled out, "Gillian is getting a bit annoyed at all my cosplay 'crap' all over our place and I thought maybe I could keep some stuff here and maybe work on some of it on weekends when I come to visit. I know I should have asked, but you said you had lots of space and I didn't think you would mind and besides..."

He laughed, and I realized I was babbling again. "It's fine, princess. I have tons of room."

God, he was such a good daddy. I could feel myself sink into little space, like sinking into a fluffy cloud. Plus the car seat was now heating up more than my ass. Combine that with a couple of days of playing with myself and not cumming, and I knew I was starting to turn red.

And, of course, he noticed.

"Have you been edging, princess?" he asked, resting his hand on the part of my thigh that didn't have a sock or skirt covering it. I felt my breath hitch and my brain start to slow down. "Because you've been squirming an awful lot and you're very flushed."

Shit. There was no way I could lie to him when he was looking at me.

"Yes daddy," I said in a small voice. Don't ask since when. Don't ask since when.

"When did you start edging, princess?" he asked.

For fuck sake. Daddy always figured this out. And with his hand rubbing my thigh and coming really close to my pussy, I just blurted out the truth.

"Since Wednesday morning, daddy. I know you said no edging until Thursday evening but I had easy classes and I needed to be in a really little headspace for this weekend and it was really hard to resist because I missed you and I was getting super horny and..."

He shot me a look and I stopped babbling. He also took his hand off my leg. I felt like I could cry. I wanted his warmth back.

"Start edging now and don't stop until we get to the house," he said.

I gasped. We'd been driving for about 20 minutes. It was getting dark out, so it was hard to see where exactly we were going but I could tell we were outside Kingston and there wasn't much traffic. I didn't know how long it would be until we got to daddy's house. I could ask but I was sure I'd get no answers.

He was still looking at me. I bit my lip and uncurled my legs. I slid down in the seat a bit and then hiked up my dress. I could see him trying to look at me while still keeping his eyes on the road.

"No panties," he said. "I figured as much."

I began gently rubbing around the outside of my pussy and groaned. If I touched my clit at this moment I was afraid I'd explode. Days of being wound up, daddy watching me, driving in a car, fuck it was so hot. I did this for a few minutes, the hum of the car, the heat from the seat, daddy's eyes, all working on me, driving me nuts.

"You're a naughty little girl, aren't you," he asked, sliding a hand over my left sock, but not touching bare skin. Fuck, he was not going to make it easy for me to last. I was lightly brushing my fingers over my pussy, trying hard not to touch my clit or put any fingers inside. I was already so primed that I felt ready to explode.

"Oh daddy," I groaned. "I'm going to need your cock when we get home, daddy. I'm so horny for you, daddy. I've been waiting two weeks for you to fuck me again and..."

That's when daddy hit a pothole, my hand slapped onto my clit and I arched my back and screamed. If it hadn't been for the seatbelt I might have rocketed through the roof of the car.

But I was a good girl and didn't cum although I have no idea how.

Even daddy was distracted by the display and slowed the car down a bit.

"Are you ok, princess?"

"Please let me cum, daddy. I'll be a good girl from now on. I'll suck your dick all weekend, just let me cum now, please daddy, please daddy..."

"No," I heard him through the haze. My fingers were working again, carefully because I was so desperate to go off. The slight touch of my fingers on my pussy made me twitch. "But I'll give you something to help distract you."

That's when I felt his fingers around my face. His thumb rubbed against my lips and I greedily latched onto it and began to suck. It wasn't his cock, but I had something hard in my mouth I could suck on. I looked at daddy's face and there was a look on his face I couldn't process. Happiness? Lust? Awe? I kept sucking on his thumb and then I just zoned out. My brain just went away. I just had a dim thought of sucking on daddy's thumb and my fingers lazily playing with my pussy. I was edging still and it felt amazing, but there was no danger of cumming. I was just riding the wave of bliss. Maybe it was sub space, I don't know. I hadn't felt anything like it before. I felt so little and content.

A couple of infinities later I felt his thumb slide out of my mouth and I moaned at its absence. The car had stopped. I heard some crunching noises and some doors slam, but I was still way out of it. And then daddy was gently shaking me.

"Put your arms around my neck, princess." I did and then I felt myself leveraged out of the car with daddy's arms around me. I moaned at the sudden cold, but then it was warm again. Then I was gently laid down on something soft. And that's the last thing I remembered as I passed out.

***

When I woke up, I was covered in a blanket and I could smell food cooking. That reminded me I had been too nervous and excited to eat today and I was starving. I sat up and my brain was still fuzzy, but I was able to process I was in daddy's living room. There was a huge window to the left of me, but it was dark so I couldn't see much outside. Although it looked like there were a lot of trees. There was a wood stove in front of me throwing off heat which felt nice because I realized that even with the blanket I was still chilly. I glanced around the room, but it was sparse. I didn't see many pictures or art. Daddy said he'd only moved here a few months ago so I guess he was still setting up.

I stood up and my legs wobbled, but held. It was the weirdest thing; I hadn't cum in the car, but my brain just shut down. I hope daddy wasn't too freaked out. Man, my body does weird things when I get little and horny. Actually, it does weird things when I'm horny and around my daddy, which was interesting when I thought about it.

I turned around and started to walk towards the sound of food only to see daddy leaning over the stove. It was a big open space with the living room, dining room and kitchen basically one room, but it curved a bit, which explained why I didn't see him at first. He must have heard me stir because he turned around, saw me, and smiled.

"There's my sleeping beauty. How are you feeling?"

There was an island breaking up the kitchen and I sat on one of the stools around it. I positioned the blanket around me. The combination of no food and the bliss left me chilled, wood stove or not.

"I thought sleeping beauty was supposed to wake up when her prince kissed her," I said pouting.

He came over and kissed me on the forehead.

"I tried, princess. It didn't take. You might just have to find another prince."

I shook my head vehemently against that idea.

"But you were pretty out of it. And I'm betting you skipped lunch, so I thought the smell of cooking food would eventually make your stir. It's a good thing it did. You had another 10 minutes and I was going to wake you up."

Something was rattling around in the fog in my head about that sentence.

"Daddy, what time is it?"

He had an old school wrist watch. I loved that he wore a watch. Not an Apple watch or something that measures steps, just a simple, classy watch with a leather strap.

"It's about quarter to six," he said. "You've been out for about 45 minutes."

That's when what I had been trying to remember came crashing out of the fog. Gillian.

"Fuck!" I said, getting a raised eyebrow from daddy. "Where's my phone? Please! It's an emergency!"

He pointed his spoon toward a hallway I hadn't noticed before. "I think it's still in your coat, hung up in the porch," he said, but I had already thrown off the blanket and bolted out of the kitchen. It was a short corridor and then a junction. The left looked like it led to a deck on the front of the house, the right towards the back of the house. Through the door I could see the car parked. Mercifully I spotted my coat right away hanging on a rack on the wall. I reached into my coat and pulled out the phone. As I feared, there were a series of increasingly urgent texts from Gillian. The last one was five minutes ago.