Authors: Breanna Hayse
“I know it is, but give yourself to this part and it will fall into place for you. Let’s go find your room and get you settled.”
“Hey, they forgot to leave my suitcase! We need to call them,” Camille suddenly realized, freezing in her tracks. “Erik!”
“We have everything here that you could possibly need,” Erik said, taking her hand and leading her to the bridges on the right. He bypassed several ‘cottages,’ small individual pagodas adjoined by short bridges between them, explaining that they were primarily used as guest rooms. He stayed to the right, finally arriving at a lofty structure that required walking up several steps. He slid the door open and stepped aside for Camille to enter.
Before her was a large room with the furnishing of a nursery. Toys and stuffed animals were piled into the corners and giant picture books lined the shelves. A crib leaned against the far wall, attached to a day bed. Camille felt her jaw drop as she caught the sight of a changing table, rocking chair, and a short table that held coloring books and crayons.
“Well? This is your room, baby.”
“You have got to be kidding me. Erik…”
“Uncle Erik,” he corrected, drawing her into the center of the room. “Look at all these toys! Aren’t they wonderful?”
“Erik… Uncle Erik, I am nineteen and…”
“And I know for a fact that you have never played with toys like this. Or colored. Stan told me that since you were a toddler, you were doing commercials and backgrounds, and that your mother pushed you to learn lines instead of playing. Look at me,” he ordered, turning her face to meet his eyes. “I am giving you back your childhood. I want you to enjoy it.”
“I don’t even know where to start. Is this what the film is about?” She was genuinely frightened.
“There is nothing to be afraid of, honey. Please, don’t worry about the film. Worry about behaving yourself and staying in character as best as you can. I will introduce you to this as carefully as possible, but it has to start somewhere. Let’s pick out something for you to change into, okay?”
Camille stood stock still as he ventured to the closet and rummaged through the clothing. He smiled, producing a frilly pink dress with white buttons and trim.
“This will be perfect, don’t you think?”
“I don’t wear pink. I mean… oh no… uh uh…” Camille said as he lifted a pair of diapers into her view.
“Big girls cooperate with their uncles, Cami. Baby girls wear diapers because they aren’t old enough to make good choices. Which would you want to be? A big girl or a baby?”
Camille groaned, pointing to the dress. Satisfied, the man beckoned to her as he sat on a straight-backed chair. He pulled her between his knees to look her in the eye. “I am going to allow you to dress yourself this time, but you need to accept that I will be taking care of most of your needs in the future. Anytime you decide to rebel, I will lower your age until you submit yourself to me. I am doing this to help nurture you and give you some of what you never had. Cooperate and you will find that you enjoy it. Fight me and, unfortunately, there will be consequences. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir, Erik… Uncle Erik,” Camille whispered, feeling her adult years slip away from her.
Uncle Erik
, she reminded herself.
I have to stay in character! But how? Everything feels so strange and foreign!
Affectionately, he tweaked her nose and stood up. His height suddenly made her feel like a little girl and she faced the floor shamefully as she admitted to herself that she liked his undivided attention.
After Erik left the room, Camille picked up the dress and studied it closely. She had never worn anything like it. Even in her child roles, she was always in overalls and pants, or in the hideous patched dress worn by Pippi. She had to admit that this little dress, with all its delicate ribbons and buttons, was very pretty. It reminded her of the girly frocks worn by her costar, Tia, who played her neighbor in the
Pippi
series. Camille glanced around the room, looking for the cameras. If they were there, they were well hidden.
Oh well
, she resigned herself,
I am an actress. I need to start acting
.
She slipped out of her jeans, pausing only to stroke her bottom. It was no longer tender from the brief introduction to Erik’s spanking, and she found she actually missed the warmth that had followed the act. She wrinkled her nose, glad that he did not skin down her jeans and discover that she wore only plain, white cotton panties. Likewise, the bra was also of simple, unadorned white cotton.
Why not?
she thought.
It isn’t like anyone is going to be seeing my underwear.
After slipping the dress over her head, Camille looked at herself in the mirror. She groaned. The skirt was so short that her panties were clearly visible. She rummaged through the drawers of the dressing table and found only identical cotton panties and anklets trimmed in lace. Glancing down at her feet, she shrugged in resignation. She kicked off her boots and thermal socks and slid on the delicate anklets. A glance toward the closet answered her question, and she found a pair of pink shoes to match her dress. She glanced in the mirror again and released a despondent laugh. “Unbelievable,” she said aloud. “This looks absolutely ridiculous.”
“I completely disagree,” Erik’s voice said from the doorway, startling her. “You are adorable in pink, especially when you blush like that. Bring me the hairbrush and those ribbons and I will fix your hair.”
“Erik…”
“Who?”
“Uncle Erik, I can brush my own hair. I’m a big girl, you know.” Camille insisted, forcing herself into her character. The smile on Erik’s face showed his pleasure at her attempt and she felt a gush of delight at his approval.
“Yes, darling, I know you are a big girl, but I like to brush hair. Make old Uncle Erik happy and mind him, okay?”
“You
are
old. Did they have cars when you were a kid?”
“Yes, and telephones and electricity. Get over here, brat.” His voice softened playfully. Camille suppressed a giggle and handed him the brush, plopping on the floor and crossing her legs in a most unladylike manner. She closed her eyes as she felt him gently run the brush through her tangles, easing the knots out with his fingers. Even she was not as patient with her own locks as he was! Once the bristles were free to travel down the length of her hair, Erik began to brush firmly, lifting the heavy mane from her shoulders as he hummed an unrecognizable tune. Camille felt herself relaxing under his care and leaned against his leg as she wrapped her arm around it. Strange as it sounded, she felt completely safe and secure anchored between his strong legs.
“How pretty is that?” Erik asked after tying her hair into two high, loose ponytails. “So shiny and soft. Did you like having your hair brushed?”
“I did. A lot,” Camille admitted.
“Then that will be a reward for good behavior for you. Now pick up all the clothes you left on the floor and put them in that hamper. We keep things tidy around here.”
“I don’t like to clean,” Camille said, pouting as she tossed her jeans and shirt into the wicker basket, and then tucked her boots in the closet.
“You don’t have to like it; you just have to do it. Do you want to stay in your room and play for a while, or explore?”
“Explore!” Camille said excitedly. “Are you going to come with me?”
“Of course. I don’t want you getting lost. Hold my hand.”
Camille was, once again, overwhelmed with the size and directions of the compound. Erik told her there were sixteen bedrooms on the north side, and that the only room she was not allowed to enter was Arthur’s. He informed her that the reason being was that she would be lost in Arthur’s mess and she would never be found again. He then showed her his room, which was the largest and with custom furnishings, including a huge, circular bed built onto a high platform. Surprising even herself, she ran to the platform, climbed onto the bed, and spontaneously started to jump on it.
“What do you think you are doing, little one? That is a bed, not a trampoline,” Erik asked, catching her before she fell.
Camille snickered. “I am getting into character. Isn’t that was little girls do? Jump on beds?”
“Some do, yes. Have you ever bounced on a mattress before?”
“Nope. I always wanted to, though. Mother said it was undignified.”
“Well,
Mother
is not here. Go on. Jump to your heart’s content. Just be careful.”
Camille squealed, launching herself back on the high mattress and jumping as hard as she could. Erik, arms crossed and eyes peeled, simply smiled as she allowed her adult self to disappear. When she started panting, he ordered her to stop.
“But I don’t want to!” Camille argued, jumping higher.
“You have had enough, baby. Come down now.”
“Noooo… ow!” she yelped as her ankle twisted under her and she fell.
“This is why I told you to stop. Does it hurt?” Erik asked, sitting next to her.
Tearfully, Camille nodded. “Yeah. Real bad.”
“Next time, you will listen, won’t you?”
“Yes, sir, Uncle Erik. I’m sorry. Ow!”
With a sigh, Erik lifted her easily into his arms and carried her to the bathroom. Setting her on top of the vanity, he pulled off her shoe and sock and looked carefully at her foot.
“Just a little twist. No swelling yet. Let’s get some ice for it and then have a long talk about what I expect from you when I tell you to do something.”
Camille bit her lip, forcing back shameful tears. “I’m sorry, Uncle Erik. I’ll listen better next time. I promise.”
“There won’t be a next time. No more jumping on beds.”
“But… you’re mean.”
“I think I heard you tell me that before. Up you go.”
Camille pouted as he placed her on the couch in the living room and covered her ankle with a bag of ice. He looked up at her and frowned.
“Why the face, baby?”
“I wanna jump on the bed again. It was really fun. Please? I’ll be more careful, I promise.”
“I already told you no. House rule,” he said, ignoring her groan. “Uncle Erik does not repeat himself. Please don’t test me. You are already very close to getting a spanking for not minding me as it is.”
“It’s not fair.”
“In this type of age-play relationship, there are going to be many things that you think are unfair. But they will always be in your best interests. Now, sit here quietly while I get you something to occupy yourself with.”
“My tablet is in my purse…”
“Sorry, but my little girls only play video games with me. You can read, color, or watch cartoons. What do you want?”
“To play Candy Crush. I’m on level 161 and…”
“Camille Loren, I said no. Must I repeat myself?”
“No.”
“No, what?”
“No, Uncle Erik,” Camille forced out with a scowl. The man seriously needed to learn how to relax a bit.
“I will also bring you some milk and cookies. Would you like that?”
“Coffee, please.”
“No.”
“Oh, come on! Coffee isn’t going to hurt me!”
“Young lady, do you remember what I said about arguing with me?”
Camille swallowed, seeing the seriousness in his face. “Yes. I’m sorry. This is going to take some getting used to.”
“I know, but don’t think I am going to be so lenient with you because it’s new to you. Any more lip will result in a time out. Got it?”
“Yes, sir,” Camille answered quietly. She wrinkled her nose at the tray that contained a large glass of milk and two macadamia nut, chocolate-chip cookies. A firm look from Erik made her pick up one and nibble it delicately.
“What if I’m lactose intolerant?” she suddenly asked, distastefully eyeing the milk.
“Are you saying you are?”
“I might be.”
“Lying is a definite spanking offense. Are you?”
“No.”
“Then drink your milk. You can watch any of these channels.” He handed her the remote and pointed to the yellow button. “They are programmed for your age group. I am going to get changed into sweats and will be right back.”
Camille watched Erik leave the room and sighed, her heart pounding wildly in her chest. His presence was awakening something inside of her, something forbidden. Her mother used to warn her about men, telling her that they were only out for two things… a woman’s body and her money. She was warned never to trust any of them, no matter how nice and sincere they pretended to be.
Men are the world’s greatest performers
, her mother said,
and they are all after the same trophy. You don’t need to worry though; this will never be an issue for you.
Camille bit her lips, contemplating her mother’s words. She did not want to believe that Erik was like that. He seemed to genuinely care for her well-being. He had shown it since the moment she had fallen into the koi pond that night. Plus, he had much more money than she ever would. But then, he
was
an actor. One of the best in the business. He also had the sordid reputation of being a ladies’ man. And this, she looked around the room, was nothing more than a movie set to him.
Camille reached to rub her aching ankle, feeling the tears threaten to spill again.
How could I be so foolish to believe he would like me as more than his costar?
She stared blankly out the large window at the breathtaking view below. The lake stretched for miles, its frozen beauty both compelling and frightening. In the background were mountains larger than she had ever seen in California, reflecting a blue haze off the snow.
“Sweetheart? Why are you crying? Does you ankle hurt?” Erik’s gentle voice startled her. Camille just nodded, her voice caught in her throat. He settled next to her and pulled her foot onto his lap, his warm hands gently rubbing the injured limb. “Talk to me. I need to know what is on your mind.”
“I’m confused… and scared… and I feel like a total idiot,” Camille choked out, avoiding his face.
“What are you afraid of? I’m not going to hurt you.”
“No, not that. I’m afraid of my character and how she might end up feeling for her teacher. Erik, you are giving me something that I have always wanted and I don’t know how to deal with it. It really scares me. I have never been in this situation and have no idea how to handle the emotional issues that have the potential of arising. You have played parts like this before, haven’t you? How do you handle it?”