Motorcycle Daddy's Captive: An Age Play DDLG Motorcycle Club Romance Read online

  He carried everything through to the bathroom. Beth was looking at herself in the mirror. “You all right?” he asked.

  She jumped like she’d been caught doing something she shouldn’t. “I look a mess,” she said, running a hand through her greasy hair. “We don’t have a mirror at home. I look awful.”

  “Not for long,” he replied, turning the faucets off. “Ready for your bath?”

  She didn’t move as he took a step toward her. “Let me help,” he said, reaching down and taking hold of the bottom of her tee-shirt. “I’m going to undress you and put you in the bath. Remember, if you need it, you just say the safe word anytime.”

  He lifted the tee-shirt slowly up her chest as she froze on the spot.

  “Good girl,” he said, pulling it over her head. She was shaking. He stared into her eyes. “You are safe with me,” he added.

  Underneath the tee-shirt was a bra that was too small for her. He reached around her, unhooking it with one hand, pulling the straps away from her shoulders.

  He glanced down at her chest, his breath catching. Her breasts were perfect, the nipples light pink, pointing straight forward. He felt a sudden urge to cup them in his hands. Still no safe word.

  “Leg up,” he said, kneeling down, unbuttoning her jeans. He slid her pants down her hips, shocked to see the ripped panties under them. She needed a Daddy, badly.

  “Other leg,” he said as he eased the pants off her ankle. Pulling them free, he set them aside before again looking up at her. “You’re okay,” he said, sliding her panties down. “This is what Daddies do.”

  Her pussy was hidden behind dark hair. “That will have to be shaved,” he said, nodding toward it. “You’ll never fool the club with all that on there. Littles don’t have hair like that.”

  She said nothing.

  Her chest heaved as he removed her panties and socks. He stood up again, lifting her pliant body into his arms, lowering her gently into the bath.

  She sat perfectly still as he eased her back until she was laid down with only her head above the surface.

  “Relax,” he said, heading for the door a moment later. “I’ll be back soon.”

  5

  Beth

  She said the name in her head over and over again, running it around, listening to the different sounds it made.

  S. L. A. T. E. R.

  It spelled comfort. It spelled safety. It spelled a feeling she’d never felt before, that of being protected, looked after, kept safe from harm.

  She lay back in the bath, eyes closed, taking several deep breaths.

  There wasn’t a bath in the apartment. There was a shower but she’d rarely been allowed to use it. The last year it had been hanging off the wall, slowly rusting.

  This was a whole tub filled with hot water and something that made the room smell like summer flowers.

  The water was murkier than when she first entered the tub. The dirt that encrusted her arms and legs was coming off, floating around on the surface.

  Her hair was floating too, moving like rippling snakes whenever she breathed, the water rippling above her chest.

  She pictured herself being his Little. It was a term she’d not heard of much although the things he described, he might have plucked straight out of her head.

  In her most private moments she had dreamed of that kind of lifestyle. Some of the magazines her father had stored in her room depicted some of the things Slater had talked about.

  She’d seen pictures of women being spanked, a heat rising inside her whenever she looked at them for too long. Could she be a secret Little? Was that what she was?

  She did call it little space when she felt cornered, hugging Eleanor tight and wishing someone would come and take her away from her apartment.

  Her father had told her only perverts bought those kinds of magazines, that she’d be in big trouble if he ever caught her looking at them. So she only sneaked them out late at night, imagining having someone spanking her like that.

  Wasn’t it all kinds of wrong though? To call your partner a Daddy? She would have said yes if it wasn’t for the casual way Slater talked about it like it was no big deal. Just one more kind of relationship.

  She said his name again. Slater. She was so lucky to have met him. His eyes sparkled at times, lighting up his face even if he barely smiled. She was scared and excited by him at the same time.

  She knew she should run, get out of here, get far away. But she still had nowhere to go. Besides, Slater had promised to keep Leanne safe.

  In return all she had to do was dress up as a Little, whatever that meant, and obey his commands. It wouldn’t even be a chore. It would be fun.

  A chance to set aside all the misery she was going through and just pretend she was a Little. She could do that.

  The thought of submitting to his commands was a turn on. He’d undressed her and when she felt his hands on her skin, she wanted to melt into his arms, beg him to kiss her.

  She just felt so safe with him around. There wasn’t a single moment while he undressed her that she felt in danger. Somehow she could tell he wasn’t going to hurt her.

  He didn’t even look repulsed by the sight of her filthy skinny body. She stood there naked in front of him and it all felt perfectly normal, like it was supposed to be that way. All because he told her he was going to do it.

  She wanted him so badly in that moment.

  The thought confused her. She wasn’t sure she was allowed to feel that way, especially so soon after Billy and her father’s murder. She should still be grieving.

  The thought of Billy upset her. How could she be thinking about becoming a Little when his murderers were out there, roaming free?

  There was a knock on the bathroom. “Come in,” she said, sitting up slightly in the bath.

  “Thought you might have fallen asleep in there,” he said, setting down a pile of things on the cabinet by the frosted glass window. “Is it still warm enough?”

  He dipped his hand in the water, frowning as he did so. “Will have to get you out soon. Sit up a bit more for me.”

  She did as he said while he dragged a chair over to the tub. Sitting behind her, she glanced back in time to see him picking up a jug. “Don’t worry,” he said. “Nothing bad will happen here.”

  He dipped the jug into the water, moving it up to the top of her head, pouring a little at a time into her hair until the jug was empty.

  Beth’s breath caught as his hands began to massage her scalp, teasing the knots loose, easing her tension, helping her relax. His huge hands were surprisingly nimble as he applied shampoo to her hair, saying nothing.

  She closed her eyes again, feeling the suds run down her chest as he continued to clean her hair. He was gentler than she expected, using a brush to get out the knots, taking his time, applying more fragrant shampoo every few minutes.

  She heard the splash of the jug. “Keep your eyes closed,” he said. “Lean back.” Water poured over her and she felt like she was in heaven. How could anyone be this nice to her? It didn’t feel possible.

  “Have to get that cut sometime,” he said as he shampooed it again. “For tonight we’ll put it in a ponytail. Stand up.”

  She obeyed him at once, shivering slightly despite the heat of the bathroom, steam rising around her. What was he going to do?

  He stood in front of her, cloth in hand. “Time to get you clean,” he said. “See what you look like under all that dirt.”

  He worked up a lather with the soap, running it over her arms. She giggled when he reached her armpits. “Ticklish,” he said. “Now I know what you sound like when you laugh.”

  The sound was alien to Beth. She clamped down on it, concentrating on the sensations on her skin. He was rubbing the cloth vigorously along her arms, getting the dirt out, revealing the pale skin underneath.

  “There’s a body under here,” he said, applying soap to her chest. “I knew it was here somewhere.”

  As his hands brushed over her ni
pples, she gasped, holding her breath, wondering if he could tell how hard he’d made the two nubs.

  Her chest heaved as she fought to keep her breathing under control. He’d already moved on, sliding down her stomach and then lower still.

  She tensed up as he briefly slid the soap between her legs, making her heart pound so hard she thought it might burst.

  He worked lower still, cleaning her thighs and then her calves, leaving her whole body tingling, her mind awhirl with conflicting feelings.

  She wanted him to kiss her. She wanted him to leave her alone. She wanted to feel nothing at all. She wanted him to spank her, to do all the things a Daddy might do to a misbehaving Little.

  He’d mentioned a plug as punishment. The thought of it made her buttocks clench and her pussy heat up. She’d seen them in the magazines too. She had no idea what they’d feel like to use but now she wanted to know.

  She needed to know.

  “Turn around,” he said. “We’ll get your back clean and then get you shaved.”

  As he scrubbed at her back, she took the opportunity to try and get a hold of herself. If he was going to shave her, she needed to get a grip.

  This wasn’t a sexual thing. He didn’t desire her. He was using her to get into the club to deal with that drug he’d talked about. There was no sign he wanted anymore than that no matter how badly her body wanted him in that moment.

  He worked the soap between her ass cheeks and she again thought of a plug in there. What if he dipped a finger into her ass? Her clit throbbed at the thought. She felt a sudden urge to touch it but she managed to resist.

  The cloth followed the soap, cleaning its way down to her ankles. “There,” he said at last. “Sit on the edge of the tub and spread your legs for me.”

  She wanted to tell him to get lost, that he had no right to tell her what to do. They were virtual strangers. She was sat down before the thought had even occurred to her. It was already becoming difficult to disobey him.

  “You’re being a good Little,” he said as she opened her legs wide for him. “Your Daddy is very proud of you.”

  She couldn’t help smiling. He’d called himself her Daddy. It felt right. It didn’t feel weird at all.

  Looking down at herself felt weird. He was looking between her legs, a strange expression on his face. Was that disgust? Anger?

  “Is it bad?” she found herself asking.

  “No, sweetheart, it’s not bad at all. It just needs a little tidy up.”

  He used scissors first, snipping the hair until it was short enough to shave. Every few seconds his knuckles would touch her clit and she had to fight to keep a moan from slipping out.

  He applied shaving cream to the patch of hair above her pussy, his fingers working it down over her folds, brushing past her clit and making her breath catch in her throat.

  “Keep really still,” he said, kneeling down in front of her. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  She held her breath as he applied the razor to her skin, scraping through the lather, working his way lower. He moved her folds from left to right, the pressure on her clit making her sure she was becoming wet. She could only hope he’d think it was the water from the bath, not her arousal which was growing uncontrollable.

  He finished shaving all too soon. “Turn around and bend over,” he said. “Need to get the last few bits.”

  She did as he asked. “Legs wide,” he added. “Now pull those sweet little cheeks apart for Daddy.”

  She reached behind her, almost falling as she spread her buttocks wide, knowing he was seeing something she’d never seen before, her own private little hole.

  At least it didn’t take long. A few scrapes of the razor and he was standing up behind her. She kept her hands in place, waiting to be told she could let go.

  “You’re a natural at this,” he said, taking her hands from her ass, helping her upright, guiding her out of the bath to stand in the middle of the bathroom floor. “You’ll need to be this obedient at the club.”

  She looked at herself in the mirror as he fetched a towel to wrap around her. She looked so different. Her skin was clean. There was no hiding her pussy. It was right there. Her hair ran straight down in clean lines. Was that really her?

  He slipped the towel around her shoulders. “Into the bedroom,” he said, taking her hand in his. “We’ll get you dry.”

  His bedroom didn’t have much in it. There was a wardrobe that stood near the fireplace. Beside that was a chest of drawers with a plant in a terracotta pot on top. Then there was the bed with a pile of blankets on top.

  “Sit there,” he said, pointing to the edge of the bed.

  “Old girlfriend’s,” he said, bringing a hairdryer out from under the bed. “Hope it still works.”

  He plugged it in and then sat cross legged behind her, drying her hair with one hand, using the brush with the other.

  She again felt like she was in a dream. He was looking after her better than anyone ever had. She could just imagine staying here and living like this forever.

  “All done,” he said far too soon. “Time to get some clothes on you. See what you look like as a Little.”

  6

  Slater

  Slater had one thought in his mind as he walked across the bedroom.

  Resist her.

  She looked achingly beautiful. She wasn’t just pretty under the mess of filth that had coated her skin.

  With her hair dried, her skin pink from the heat of the bath, and those wide eyes of hers above luscious soft looking lips, she was beautiful.

  She would make the perfect Little. If only it was real.

  He knew he had to resist her. It had been tough enough getting her clean in the bath without fucking her. Shaving her had been an almost impossible task.

  Seeing her pussy so close to his face, that tight looking ass of hers, the way she shuddered when he moved her soft folds to remove the last of her hair. It had taken every ounce of self control to resist fucking her and he had to resist.

  Fucking her was a bad idea. If she ran, he was back to square one with getting inside The Milk Bar. He needed her to get him inside.

  That meant he needed to be nice to her, not something he was used to doing. He was used to barking out commands and having them obeyed.

  He needed to be gentler with her. Firm, of course, so she knew he was in charge, but gentle too.

  He was doing his best. What scared him almost as much as how much he wanted her was how natural all this felt, like it was the way things were meant to be.

  He felt as if all his life he’d been walking around not realizing a part of him was missing and now it was here, he found it impossible to go back to the way he was.

  Resist her, he told himself as he picked up the clothes for her. He could resist her. He wasn’t a teenage virgin. He was Slater Greene. He could control himself, keep his goddamned dick in his pants, no matter how much it was throbbing in that moment.

  Had she noticed how hard she’d made him in the bathroom? He hoped not. If she knew just how much he wanted her, she’d run and she wouldn’t last five minutes out there. She needed him to keep her safe.

  He turned back to find her staring up at him, looking more innocent than ever. How could he have thought of fucking her?

  He wanted to sweep her into his arms and hold her tight, tell her everything would be all right now, he’d protect her forever.

  Forever.

  Was he already thinking that way?

  When had that happened?

  “This isn’t the dress you’ll be wearing tonight,” he said, holding the outfit out in front of him for her to see. “Mouser is still getting hold of the required uniform for a Little attending the club.”

  “Are Littles supposed to wear uniforms?”

  “Nope. You’re supposed to be free to express yourself but that’s one more thing about this club that stinks. The rumor is it’s run by someone who doesn’t get the DDLG lifestyle. He just wants to see girls wearing
this to turn himself on.

  “I get the feeling he just set up the DDLG elements to keep everyone distracted while the Cake making goes on behind the scenes. Still, this’ll give you an idea of what it’s like to dress like a Little. What do you think?”

  “I think it’s the most beautiful dress I’ve ever seen. Is it really for me?”

  She reached out, running a hand down the fabric. “It feels so soft,” she added with a smile. “Do I get to wear that?”

  “And these,” he said, showing her the panties and socks. “No bra. Littles don’t wear bras. What shoe size are you? Five?”

  “Four and a half.”

  He pulled out his cellphone, punching in a message to Mouser. “The right size’ll be waiting for you tonight,” he said when he was done. “Stand up.”

  She did as he asked at once, not hesitating for a second. He took hold of the towel and pulled it away. She tried to grab it for a brief moment before letting her arms fold over her chest.

  “You don’t need to hide yourself,” he said, moving her arms to her sides. “You look beautiful.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “Stop that,” he said, pointing a finger at her. She winced and he realized he’d spoken too harshly. “You are my Little and you do not put yourself down. If I tell you that you are beautiful it is not an empty compliment. It is true. You are beautiful, Beth. You have a beautiful body.”

  “I really don’t.”

  “That’s a second warning. Do you want to know what happens if you get a third?”

  Her eyes flashed defiance rather than fear. “What? I am ugly, I get it. You don’t have to lie to me. I’ve already agreed to do this.”

  “Third warning,” he said. “Do it again and you get a spanking.”

  Her cheeks flushed, her eyes getting even wider, her nostrils flaring as she stared up at him, her mouth opening but then closing again.

  “That’s better,” he said, sinking to his knees. “We’ll start with your socks. Lean on me to balance and lift that beautiful right leg of yours.”