Nurturing Britney (Surrender Book 7) by Becca Jameson (inspirational novels .TXT) 📕

my little space and partly because I’m still reeling from my first spanking and timeout.

My bottom is heated even now, but the sting from his swats had a stronger effect on my pussy than my butt cheeks. I was extremely aroused. That’s confusing. Davis said it’s normal, expected even. I can’t wrap my head around it. When I open my computer next time, I will look up the effects of spanking on littles.

A soft knock sounds at my bedroom door. “Britney, honey, do you want to watch cartoons?”

I stiffen. Cartoons? I haven’t seen cartoons since I was like five, and at the time I lived with older boys. They always picked stupid ones.

I find the strength to pad over to the door and open it. Daddy will be proud of me if I’m polite to his friend. I peek out, but keep my gaze downcast. “I guess,” I murmur.

He claps his hands together. “Great. Come on in the living room. I’ll see what I can find.”

I follow him, my arms crossed over my chest, Bunny squeezed against me, covering my nipples. I’m more embarrassed by my nipples than my stuffed animal, so I bring her along.

Master Brett flips through the channels on the television while I climb into the corner of the couch. I’m excited. I haven’t had a tv for a long time, and I can’t remember ever making my own selection. At every home I lived in, there were always several people far higher up the household totem pole as far as choosing the channel.

“How about this one?” Master Brett glances over his shoulder at me, and I nod. It looks cute.

He sets the remote down on the coffee table. “Master Davis said you didn’t finish your breakfast. Do you want it now?”

I shake my head. “No thank you, Sir.”

“How about some milk?”

“Okay.”

He smiles and heads back to the kitchen. He’s nice. Davis was right. I have no reason to be impolite to him. He’s just trying to help.

A few minutes later, he returns and holds out a cup. It’s one of my pink plastic cups only now it has a lid on it. I swallow my nerves as I take it from him. I’m thirsty, and I didn’t have breakfast. It feels weird drinking from a sippy cup, but I do it anyway. At least it won’t spill.

Master Brett cleans up the kitchen and then settles at the table with his laptop. I glance at him out of my peripheral vision from time to time.

The cartoon is funny, and I get lured in.

Eventually, I finish my milk and set the cup on the floor. I pull my knees up under me and lean against the arm of the couch, hugging Bunny. I’m not sure how long I stay awake but the next thing I know voices pull me out of my sleep and I look up to find Davis walking back into the house.

I’m so relieved and excited that I sit up too fast and get a head rush.

Davis leans over me and cups my chin before kissing my forehead. “Did you have a nap, sweetie?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good. I bet you were tired after your stressful morning.”

I flush. He’s right.

“Was she good for you?” he asks Master Brett.

“A perfect angel.” He shoots me one of his huge smiles and winks. “I gotta go, honey. See you next time.”

“Thank you for staying with me, Sir.” I’m proud of myself for thinking of being polite.

When he’s gone, Davis scoops me up and sits in my spot, holding me in his lap. He leans me back so that my head is once again on the arm of the couch, and I’m looking up at him.

He flattens his hand on my belly and tickles me just enough to make me giggle. When he stops, he leaves his hand spread out on my belly, the tips of his fingers brushing the undersides of my breasts. “Master Brett said you didn’t eat your breakfast.”

“I wasn’t hungry, Sir.”

He continues absently stroking my breasts. It’s hard to focus when he does that. He’s smiling, and his eyes are dancing with mischief as he takes Bunny out of my hands and sets her on the couch. He clasps my free hand next and pulls it over my head where he grips it with his free hand. My other arm is trapped against his chest.

I’m already panting when his palm lands on my belly again, and I suck in a sharp breath when he eases it up until he’s lightly cupping my breast, his thumb grazing over my already distended nipple. “I like this dress,” he murmurs in a low voice. “I knew the moment I pulled it over your head that it was going to distract me. It was hard to focus this morning before I left.”

I arch my chest into his touch as my lips part.

He continues thumbing my nipple. “I love when I can see these sweet little buds under your dress. I love how the front of this dress hugs them tight so I can see the outline. Are they always hard little points like this, Britney? Or does this dress heighten your arousal?”

I lick my lips. “It’s you, Sir.” I’m being honest. The dress isn’t helping, but every time I look at him, I feel horny.

“Hmm.” His grin widens and he holds my gaze as he pinches my nipple.

I’m still gasping from the sting when his hand slides over to torment the other nipple. “Maybe I’ll stop giving you dresses and let you run around the house all day in just your panties.”

I shudder, wetness filling my panties.

“Or better yet, I’ll stop dressing you at all and let you wear your nighties during the day. No panties. Thin translucent material that doesn’t hide the curve of your sweet little tits.” He emphasizes those words with another pinch to my nipple. It’s hard and makes me gasp but he releases it quickly.

His hand runs down to my belly and then he tugs what little