Stormy Night Publications Publishers of BDSM and Kink Erotica
Collapsing against Mark’s powerful chest, Cricket looped her arms around his neck to hold him close. She tightened her grip as he lifted her into his arms to carry her down the hallway to her nursery. To her delight, her daddy sat in the wide rocking chair with her cuddled on his lap. Slowly, he pushed with his feet to send them gliding back and forth as if they had all the time in the world.
Minutes passed as he held her close. Cricket sighed happily. There was no place she’d rather be than in her daddy’s arms. Mark kissed her forehead.
“Happy, baby girl?”
“More than ever before.”
“Me, too. I was a fool,” Mark said, shaking his head.
“The past doesn’t matter, Daddy. Maybe we wouldn’t appreciate each other as much now if everything had been easy.”
“Thank you for not giving up on us, Cricket.”
She lifted her lips for a kiss and then snuggled against his chest after receiving it. Cricket loved the feel of his hand stroking through her hair as they rocked together. This room would soon hold a ton of special memories.
When her tummy growled loudly, interrupting the quiet serenity, Cricket clapped a hand over her belly.
“Sounds like you need some nourishment, baby girl. Let’s get you cleaned up and we’ll go have breakfast.”
Mark rose smoothly from the chair and carried Cricket to the changing table. Laying her down, Mark fastened a safety belt around her waist and lifted her legs straight up into the air with one hand as he grabbed a wipe.
“Daddy!” Cricket squealed, struggling against his hold.
“Settle down, little girl. I’ll have your bottom clean in just a minute.”
“I can do it,” she rushed to assure him.
“Daddy’s job.” Mark carefully stroked the towelette over her bottom and pressed her knees forward to spread her legs.
When her skin was free of her arousal, he placed her feet on the table again. Pointing at a small black object painted on the wall next to them, Mark released the waistband slightly and directed, “Turn over on your side, baby girl. Check out the decoration.”
“Why?” she asked suspiciously.
Mark simply held her gaze and lifted one eyebrow. Slowly, Cricket chose to follow his directions. Focusing on the object he’d pointed out, she discovered it was a small black insect.
“It’s a cricket!” she celebrated, looking over her shoulder to see Mark pull an oversized thermometer from the forbidden drawer.
“No,” she protested, knowing from the other Littles just where that thermometer was going. “I’m not sick.”
“We don’t know that until I take your temperature. This won’t hurt,” he assured her as he opened a large jar of lubricant.
Cricket blinked at the sight of the container. The size seemed to imply this would happen frequently. She turned back around to stare at her namesake after catching sight of a large dab on his fingertip.
“Good girl. Hold still,” Mark directed, lifting her top buttock.
Trying not to squirm as he applied the cool lubricant to her clenched opening, Cricket held her breath. It came out in a gust as that finger pushed through the tight ring of muscle guarding her entrance to spread the slick mixture thoroughly.
“Try to relax, baby girl,” Mark counseled as he removed his finger.
“That’s easy for you to…” Cricket lost the last word she meant to add as the cold thermometer slid deeply into her bottom.
“How did you get your name, Cricket?”
“Do we need to talk now?”
“It will make time go faster for you.”
“Can’t it come out yet?” she fussed.
“No. Tell me about your name, baby girl,” Mark suggested, as he swirled the thick thermometer inside her to place it a bit deeper before cupping his hand over the end, resting it on her bottom.
His treatment made her feel even littler. Cricket talked fast, trying to distract herself. “My mom traveled to China when she was a kid with my grandparents. In Asia, they think crickets bring luck and they love their music. She always had glorious adventures traveling. I think that was her favorite trip ever.”
“So, she named you Cricket because it brought back wonderful memories.”
“Yes. And she thought it would be adorable.”
“I think so, too.” Mark leaned over to kiss her forehead.
“Can it come out yet?”
Mark checked his watch and promised, “Soon.”
“Is this a sticker?” Cricket asked before reaching out to test her theory.
“No, Hope painted it for you.”
“Hope did? That’s so sweet. And sneaky. She didn’t tell me at all.” Cricket filed that away to discuss the next time she saw Hope.
“She didn’t want to ruin the surprise. According to the note I found this morning tucked in the vegetable bin in the refrigerator, each of the Littles left you something in the nursery. They wanted to welcome you when I came to my senses.”
“When did they do that?” Cricket asked, trying to look around, but finding herself stopped by Mark’s firm hand holding her in place.
“Settle down. Nothing will disappear before you find it. It appears that they did more than come trash my perishables during our last trip.”
“They’re sneaky,” Cricket said with a grin. She loved them all.
“Their daddies have their hands full. Just like me,” Mark said, patting her side. He removed the thermometer and rotated it to check her temperature. “Perfect.”
He helped her roll onto her back and leaned over to snag a padded item from under the drawer.
“A diaper? I’m a big girl,” she protested as he fastened it quickly around her.
“Most of the time.” Mark released the belt and lifted her into his arms. Before she could protest any more, he carried her from the room back to the kitchen. “Take a seat here, baby girl, and I’ll make you some scrambled eggs.”
Cricket wiggled experimentally on the chair where he’d placed her. It wasn’t uncomfortable. She looked up when he turned from washing his hands to meet his gaze directly. “I don’t have to wear this all the time, right?” Cricket asked, pressing on the padding now wrapped around her hips.
“Only when you need to,” Mark answered before he snagged her T-shirt from the floor and help her into it. She watched as he pulled those revealing shorts back on before opening the refrigerator and pulling out a gallon container.
“I have to drink milk?” she asked, wrinkling her nose.
“Milk is good for a little girl,” he confirmed.
She watched him pour a large glass before asking, “With chocolate?”
“If you’d like.”
“Yes, please,” Cricket answered politely.
As her daddy moved skillfully around the kitchen, she could tell that he wasn’t a bachelor that lived on carry-out. Mark knew what he was doing.
Her diaper crinkled when she moved, grabbing her attention. She pressed again on the diaper, trying to decide how she felt about it. The others seemed to have gotten used to wearing theirs. River didn’t wear one at work. The customers would see it easily under the brief black shorts they wore with their Harbor T-shirts. She suspected the others didn’t wear theirs while out of the care of their daddies either.
“See if this is chocolatey enough,” Mark asked, interrupting her thoughts.
Cricket lifted the heavy glass and took a sip. “Umm! It’s good.”
“Perfect.” Mark kissed the top of her head and grabbed the eggs from the fridge.
She watched him crack a half dozen into a bowl and whisk them together with a fork before giving them a sprinkle of pepper and salt and pouring them into a skillet. Within a few minutes, he had them expertly scrambled and loaded into a large bowl that he brought to the table.
“I can’t eat that much,” she protested.
“We’ll work on it together. Bite,” he directed, lifting a morsel to her lips. When Cricket reached for the fork, he pulled it away. “Daddy’s job.”
Opening her mouth, Cricket allowed Mark to feed her. They were light and fluffy. “That’s good,” she complimented with her mouth full.
“Swallow first, baby girl. I don’t want you to choke. I’m glad you like them. Always tell me if you prefer something done another way.”
“No, I like them just like this. I hate slimy scrambled eggs.”
“Me, too. Have another bite.” Mark fed her again before taking a bite himself. “Mmm. These are good.”
“What’s your schedule today, Daddy?” she asked, loving using the title.
“I’ll have to leave in about thirty minutes. Unfortunately, I’ll be busy all day. Are you working tonight?”
“Yes.” Cricket frowned.
“We have a lifetime together, Cricket,” he reassured her.
Slowly, she nodded. A flash of worry zinged through her mind. His job was so dangerous.
“I’ll always move mountains to come home to you, Cricket,” Mark promised, watching her face carefully.
“I worry about you.”
“There aren’t any guarantees in life, little girl. I could walk across the street on base and get smooshed by a runaway tank. Each man on my team has someone special to come home to. That’s why we train so hard—to give ourselves the edge we need over our opponents. Now, push those worried thoughts out of your mind and let’s enjoy our breakfast. Take a drink of milk,” he instructed.
Cricket lifted the glass and took a big drink to please him. Not too bad. Maybe she could get used to drinking milk.
“Good girl.”