Doctor Daddy’s Slutty Little by Scott Wylder
CHAPTER FIVE
Kristina
The sunlight streamed through the window onto my eyes, and I groaned as I pulled away and covered my head as I had a throbbing headache. As I frowned and looked around the room I was in. I was all alone, but this room was not my apartment’s bedroom. Fear gripped my chest as I tried to figure out where I was.
The events of the night before were extremely fuzzy, but I fought to remember regardless. I remembered getting ready for the playgroup party at Trent’s house, and I remembered I was mad at Bethany for deciding that she was going to stay in with Bryce, rather than going out with me. I even remembered going to the party and seeing Trent with Cynthia. After that, all I could remember was going to the kitchen and drinking the punch.
Was Bethany right all along when she tried to warn me about getting roofied by the punch? I threw back the covers and saw that I was naked save for the white lace bra I had worn with my outfit. Panic washed over me, and I rushed to dress quickly. If my life were a TV show, it would be a game show called “Guess Who You Slept with Last Night!” I made my way to the door of the bedroom.
Please, God… Please let it be anybody but Matt or his friends. If I followed through with that, I would have to kill myself in order to save myself from the embarrassment of sleeping with one of them. Taking a deep breath, I approached the door and entered the hallway. Despite my hangover, I vaguely recognized the hallway I was in as I walked down the staircase.
Thank God… That meant I hadn’t gone home with Matt or any of his friends. I rubbed my head as I made my way downstairs and towards the front door. I was just reaching for the door when I heard someone chuckle.
“Morning, sleepy head,” a familiar voice said, and I frowned as I turned to look at my gracious host. To my surprise, a strangely cheerful Trent was watching me from the opening to his kitchen. I bit my lower lip and shook my head.
“Hey,” I said as I forced a smile. “Where's Cynthia?” Trent winced and sadness shimmered in his eyes.
“Don’t worry about her,” he told me. “Come on into the kitchen. I’ve got breakfast cooking for you.” The memory of the breakfasts he used to make came back to me, and I felt as if I was in a dream.
“I’m good, actually,” I said as I followed him into the kitchen. “I don’t want to be a bother, and I’m sure your Little will be up any minute now.” Trent shook his head as he checked on a pan of heavenly smelling eggs and bacon.
“No, it’s no bother at all,” he said as he plated the food. “Especially since Cynthia isn’t here right now.” I frowned as I looked at him.
“Is she out shopping or something?” I asked, not seeing the warning look Trent gave me.
“Drop it,” he ordered. I sat down at the table as he approached the table with a “I’ve got chocolate chip muffins in the oven that will be ready in a bit. Help yourself in the meantime.” My jaw dropped as I stared at him in disbelief.
Eggs, bacon, and chocolate chip muffins? Either I had died and gone to heaven, or something was going on with Trent. I had my suspicions that it was the latter, and I knew it had something to do with Cynthia. Not ready to press the issue any further, I started to shovel the food into my mouth.
The eggs were scrambled, and they were the perfect amount of warm and fluffy while the bacon was crispy and perfectly browned. As soon as I finished the first helping, Trent walked over with a pan of more food and refilled my plate once more. Not wanting to seem rude, I continued to eat, and he brought me over two muffins and a mug of coffee with lots of creamer. As I ate, a thought came over me, and I looked at Trent.
“We didn’t…” I began as he sat down next to me with his own heaping plate of food. “You know…” Trent put down his mug of coffee.
“We didn’t sleep together, if that’s what you’re afraid of,” he reassured me with a gentle smile as he topped his much larger helping of eggs with salsa. “You were roofied and almost ended up in bed with Matt, but I stopped him before he did anything.”
The fork I had been holding clattered against the plate as I stared at him in absolute horror.
“Are you kidding me?” I asked, and he stared at me quietly, answering the question without a single word. Immediately, I smacked my hand to my head, forgetting the fact that I was severely hung over and groaned. “That explains a lot.”
Trent shook his head. “Don’t worry,” he said as he took a bite of food. “I saved you in the nick of time. You were passed out, when I found you, so I put you to bed and went to my own room.”
I sighed in relief. “Thank you,” I smiled at him. “For saving me from that situation. I should never have drunk the punch.”
“Think nothing of it,” he said as he sipped his coffee. “That’s what Daddies are for.” I frowned as I looked at him, confusion rushing over me. That seemed like a very strange thing for a taken Daddy to tell a single Little. I know he didn’t do anything for Cynthia’s benefit, and it seemed strange that Cynthia was a touchy subject for him.
Suddenly, everything made sense, and I felt like a complete idiot as I stared at Trent in shock.
“Cynthia left you because of me, didn’t she?” I asked, and Trent stared down at his half-empty plate of food for a moment.
“I thought I told you to drop it,” he finally responded. “Just leave it alone.” I shook my head, feeling worse than I already did thanks to my actions.
“Trent, I’m so sorry,” I told him as I stared at him. “I never meant to break the two of you up. Are you okay?” He shook his head as he set down his coffee cup.
“Drop it…” he warned as he looked at me.
“You didn’t have to do that,” I continued as I stared at him in disbelief. “I’m so sorry… You must hate me.”
“I said stop it!” he snapped as he suddenly reached for my arm.
Before I could even get away, he spun me around the table, bent me over his knee, and swatted my ass three times like a parent spanking their child. I was so stunned by his sudden outburst that I didn’t make a single sound the entire time, nor did a single tear escape me as I stood up and stared at him in shock. Seeing my face, Trent’s scowl softened.
“Kristina, I’m so sorry,” he said as he stared at me. “I don’t know what came over me. I…” He frowned as he stared at me for a moment. “Kristina…? Are you okay?”
I gently rubbed my sore ass. “What was that?” I asked.
“What was what?” he asked in confusion.
When I didn’t respond, his eyes widened, and he shook his head. “Oh, that. I’m sorry… I just… I…” He shook his head and lowered his gaze in shame. “I’m so sorry.” I smiled mischievously at him.
“Why are you sorry?” I asked as I watched him. “I was being a stupid, bratty Little. I deserved it.”