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

I wrap my arms around him and hug him tight.

When I release my grip, he lifts me off his lap and sets me on the floor. He reaches for my panties which are on the coffee table and bends down to pull them up my legs. I only wince a little as he settles them over my bottom.

He leads me to the kitchen by the hand without putting the rest of my clothes on. I glance over my shoulder at my pink skirt and tank top, suddenly realizing that even though they are small and make me feel exposed all the time, I’m so much more exposed without them.

I’m uncertain what to think when Daddy lifts me onto my stool in the kitchen. “Be right back.” He pats my thigh and leaves me sitting there.

My heart is racing by the time he returns. He’s holding a bottle of something liquid. “Clasp your hands behind your head for me, sweetie.”

I hesitate and then lift my arms and do as he says, shivering from the exposure. My breasts lift high on my chest.

Daddy opens the bottle and pours a small amount of what looks like oil onto two fingers. He steps toward me, plants his free hand on my back to steady me, and rubs the oil into my nipple.

I gasp at the contact.

“Stay still, sweetie.”

I watch him as he continues to work the clear substance into my nipple, rubbing it until it starts to tingle and I tremble. When he releases me, he pours more of the oil onto his fingers and does the same thing to my other nipple.

It’s so erotic and strange. I can’t imagine what he’s doing or why. I wonder what the oil is. Finally, he replaces the lid on the bottle and turns around to wash his hands in the sink, leaving me squirming from the attention to one of my most sensitive erogenous zones.

He returns, looking at my swollen nipples before meeting my gaze. “You can lower your arms, sweetie. The ointment is a stimulant. It will make your little titties tingle and heat up. You’ll feel very aroused soon and salivating for me to touch you. You wanted me to notice your tits, and now you’ll get what you wanted. You may not for any reason touch your nipples. You may not rub them against anything. Don’t try to use your forearm or the table or the furniture to get the relief you crave.”

I’m panting. His threat is real. My nipples are already tingling.

He leans over and kisses my forehead. “I don’t think you’ll intentionally disobey me very often either, sweet girl.” He turns around and opens the refrigerator.

I watch him move casually around the kitchen, making lunch. I grip the edge of the island because it doesn’t take long for my nipples to feel like they are on fire. I need to rub them so badly that my vision blurs. “Daddy…” The word comes out as a whimper.

He turns and smiles at me. “I know it’s frustrating. Be my good girl and keep your hands at your sides.”

“But…” I can’t. I’m not going to survive this. I squeeze my thighs together because my pussy reacts violently to what’s happening to my tits. It feels like someone is pinching them or sucking them but not hard enough.

I tip my head back and moan toward the ceiling.

Daddy sets a plate in front of me. “Eat your lunch, sweetie.”

I lower my gaze. “I… I can’t.”

“You can. It will take your mind off the torment.”

My legs are swinging and I stop them and wrap my ankles around the legs of the stool, bracing myself, grounding myself. Nothing works. I’m going to fail at this challenge. The urge to clasp my hands over my breasts and squeeze them to alleviate the burn is intense.

My knuckles are white where I’m gripping the island.

Daddy sits next to me and points at my plate. “Eat, Britney.”

Somehow I manage to release the edge of the island with one hand and pick up one of the triangles of sandwich. I can’t even tell what kind it is. I bring it to my mouth and force myself to chew and swallow. Peanut butter. My mouth is too dry to taste well.

“Take a drink of milk, Sweetie. I know you’re struggling, but you’ll get through this. I promise.”

I gulp some of my milk and then look at Daddy. “I don’t like the ointment, Sir.”

He smiles knowingly. “I’m sure you don’t, sweetie. You’re not supposed to.”

“My titties are burning, Daddy. Please touch them. Please,” I beg.

He strokes my hair and then drops his hand. “You wanted me to notice them. They are hard to miss now.” I gasp and hold my breath when he reaches out with one finger and circles a nipple. Several inches too far away to give me any relief. “They are indeed pretty like this. So hard and begging for attention.”

When he points at my sandwich, I pick up another triangle and take a bite. He pours more milk into my cup.

I reach for it, and he stops me with a hand to my wrists. “You’re unsteady, sweetie. Use both hands or I’ll put a lid on it.”

I flush as I pick up the cup with both hands, remembering the sippy cup lid Master Brett gave me. I set it down carefully and take another bite of the sandwich. It’s getting easier to swallow, but I’m still distracted.

I think the tingling has reached its peak. It hasn’t increased for several moments. I’ve never experienced anything like this. I had no idea there was ointment in the universe that would make my nipples so sensitive.

My focus is on two things, forcing myself to eat my sandwich and thinking about how good it would feel for Daddy to please pinch my nipples. Or suck on them. Or both. Anything.

I nearly jump out of my seat when he drags a finger along the underside