Playing a Little (9 page)

“No, sir.”

“Why did you get spanked?”

“For not listening and arguing and swearing.” Camille faced the floor, her voice soft and small.

“That’s right. Now give Uncle Erik a hug.”

He noticed her hesitation before she wrapped her little arms around his neck and tentatively hugged him. He enclosed his arms around her and squeezed tight, kissing her cheek. “That’s my good girl. Now lift up your arms.”

Her face as red as her bottom, Camille obeyed. Erik pulled the dress off her and then deftly unhooked the little cotton bra that hid her breasts. Camille found herself staring at the floor in lieu of covering herself, her shame and humiliation deep. Erik said nothing as he removed her shoes and socks prior to taking her hand to lead her into the bathroom.

“Does your ankle still hurt?” he asked, noticing her limp.

Camille shook her head. “No, sir.”

“Good. In you go, baby. Don’t slip.”

Camille sank under the giant mound of white bubbles, hiding herself from Erik’s view. She bit her lip as he picked up a bath sponge and lathered it with soap.

“I can wash…”

“Hush. I want to do this. Trust me.”

Camille turned her face from him as he began to gently scrub her back and arms. Erik watched her expressions carefully, looking for signs of panic or disgust. There were none, just embarrassment. Unconcerned with that, he reached down to wash her legs and feet, lifting them out of the water.

“You have gorgeous legs. And the cutest behind I have ever seen,” he added casually, making sure to slip the sponge gently between her legs and wash her intimate parts. Although only the material touched her, Camille still groaned and submerged her head under the water. He pulled her to sit up. “You can’t hold your breath forever, baby. Let me wash your hair now that it’s wet.”

Camille sighed loudly as his strong fingers massaged her scalp and the back of her neck. She suddenly giggled as they touched her behind the ear.

“Ticklish, are we? Nice to know. How about there?”

“Stop it!” she ordered, smacking his hand as he reached under the bubbles to poke her side. “I don’t like being tickled.”

“Have you ever been tickled?” Erik asked, poking her gently again.

“No! No one… stop!” Camille erupted into gales of laughter as he ran his fingers against her ribs, lightly brushing her breasts in the process. She was out of breath in a matter of seconds.

“You look like a little drowned rat,” Erik teased, dabbing the water from her face with a towel. “But a very pretty one. Would you like to stay and soak for a while?”

“Yes, please,” Camille answered, panting. “Could I have some water? I’m thirsty.”

Erik nodded, handing her a glass along with a basket of bath toys. “Here you go, baby. Call me when you are ready to get out. Do not stand in the tub without my help.”

“But…”

“Next time, I will use the hairbrush on your bottom. Believe me, a wet bottom meeting wood is not a happy bottom.”

“Yes, sir,” Camille pouted.

Camille watched as Erik left the room and reached behind to rub her aching posterior. He had an iron hand, that was certain, and she immediately regretted putting up such a fuss. She was an actress, for crying out loud. Nude scenes were done all the time in her profession and she had to start somewhere. She just had not expected it to be done in this manner!

She had to admit to herself that she found the whole scene rather tantalizing. Being spanked on the bare bottom, stripped naked, and then bathed by one of the most handsome men on the planet was certainly high on her list of fantasies. But this—she touched her sore backside again—was not fantasy. This was reality, as much as the fact that Erik’s touch, even through the soft washcloth, left her aching for release.

Leaning back under the bubbles, she slowly reached between her legs, her fingers seeking out the little, aching nub that pulsed with excitement. Her eyes frantically searched the room for cameras, not wanting anyone witnessing what she was about to do. Leaning against the high back of the tub, she closed her eyes as she gently pinched the pebble between her fingers, rolling it back and forth and kneading it softly as her arousal grew. She had only done this once before, and had been interrupted by her mother screaming at her that she was late for a shoot.

Camille bit her lip, keeping an eye on the door for an unexpected interruption. Her chest tightened as she felt her blood flow through her body, the tension in her loins so great that she thought she would snap. Her finger encircled her clit faster, firmer, pausing only to dip into her tight slit. She explored her body shyly, feeling the smooth surface of the walls of her virginity, and the harder, bumpy roof of her pelvic bones. She imagined what it would feel like to have Erik there, to feel his fingers caress her before engulfing his manhood within this part of her body. She was curious, of course, but also terrified. Would it hurt to have him there, inside of her?

Her breath quickened as she threw her head back, squeezing her eyes shut. She was so close to this wonderful place that she had heard so much about. So close…

Her eyes shot open as she saw Erik standing over her, his eyebrow raised slightly.

“What are you doing in there, darling?”

“Oh my God,” she groaned, sinking under the water again.

He reached under to pull her up. “Rescuing you from drowning yourself seems to be a theme here. Would you like some help with that?”

“Please go away,” Camille begged.

Erik squatted next to the tub and looked at her squarely in the eye. “House rule…”

“Erik, not now. I want to die from embarrassment.”

“House rule,” he repeated. “No self-pleasuring. If you need anything, call me.”

Camille just groaned and submerged once again under the mound of bubbles. She popped her head up as she felt his hand reach into the water and rest between her legs, cupping her inner thigh. “What do you think you are doing?”

“Finishing what you started.”

“No! Don’t…”

Erik withdrew his hand from the water. “No problem. I don’t ever want to force you to allow me to pleasure you. Stand up. It’s time to get out.”

“But…”

“I have already seen you naked, remember? Right before you got in and right after you got spanked. Now, mind me.” He unstopped the tub and waited, towel in hand.

Camille bit her lip and slowly stood, planting her eyes on the floor. Erik wrapped the large, soft towel around her wet body and lifted her to the floor, patting her skin dry. Silently, he toweled her wet hair and then took her hand to lead her into the bedroom. Camille fidgeted, uncomfortable with his silence as he pulled the soft nightie over her head and beckoned for her to sit on the floor between his knees so he could comb out her mass of long curls.

“I’m not hurting you, am I?” he asked, working through a tangle.

“No. You are being very gentle. Thank you. My mother used to tug until I screamed,” Camille answered, grateful that he was changing the subject away from her humiliation.

“I have heard some things about your mother from Stan. He said she was not a very affectionate person.”

“My mother was interested in one thing and one thing only. Money. She pimped me out to a diaper company when I was about two to do commercials and found it was an easy way to pay her rent. I was never able to go to public school because she kept me occupied with commercials, auditions, and photo shoots. I was lucky that Stan stepped in. He was the proverbial bull in a china shop when he discovered what she had been doing. He made sure I got an education and handled my expenses. He also made sure I was protected legally and financially. He obtained my power of attorney and started a trust fund that she could not touch.”

“I don’t understand why she would have relinquished her control and allowed him to represent you.”

“He threatened to obtain an attorney and have her investigated for neglect. I guess he might have exaggerated a little bit, but it worked. She isn’t very intelligent and was easily intimidated and she panicked,” Camille giggled. “She still stuck her finger into everything though, and constantly criticized me. She was so pretty when she was young and then ended up with someone who looks like me…”

“Do you know anything about your dad?” Erik interrupted her self-degradation, lifting the blow drier to her hair, brushing carefully as her silky strands relaxed under the warm heat.

Camille hesitated before she answered. “No. She never talked about him. I guess they were not married when I was born because she did not even place his name on my birth certificate. He is listed as ‘unknown.’”

“It sounds like your mom had quite a bit of hurt in her life.”

“That is what Stan said too, but he also said it was no excuse for her to treat me the way she did. Making me pay her back for being born in the first place. He was the closest thing to a real parent I ever had.”

“He’s a good man, even though he let you get away with anything you wanted. It was probably a good thing that you were kept so busy working, otherwise you would have turned out to be one spoiled rotten little girl.”

“I think that being constantly made fun of kept me a bit on the shy side, too. You wouldn’t understand…”

“No? I looked like a string bean with a very feminine face until I hit my teens. I got bullied plenty, and ended up in way too many fights. Arthur was my salvation. He did much the same for me as Stan did for you. He is an odd man, with a heart bigger than the moon. We owe them, Cam.”

“Yeah, I know. What are you doing now?”

“Turning down your bed. It’s time for your nap. No faces, young lady,” Erik cautioned. “I have a special surprise planned for you tomorrow if you are a good girl for the rest of the day.”

“I’m not tired. I already had a nap anyway, remember? On you.”

“That was only an hour. If you aren’t tired, you can just close your eyes and rest. Do you want me to sing to you?”

“You can sing?” Camille asked with surprise in her voice.

“I did Broadway for a while, remember? There’s my pretty girl. Head down on the pillow. Here you go,” he handed her a stuffed panda bear, “cuddle this.”

Camille fought sleep as he began to croon in his soft baritone, stroking her back as he did so. A smile settled over her face as she dozed. She could get used to living this way. She realized she liked being Erik’s little girl. Not the spankings, but the nurturing. He made her feel safe, warm, and cared for. And she liked it.

* * *

Camille yawned, stretching her arms over her head. Blinking, she noticed sunlight streaming through her bedroom window. She looked around for a clock. None. Shivering, she pulled her blanket over her shoulders and padded across the way to Erik’s room. She opened the door quietly and peeked in. He was snoring softly, face in the pillows and half off the side of the bed. With a grin, she dropped the blanket, ran in, and leapt onto the bed,

“Wake up!” she ordered, starting to jump on the mattress.

He grabbed her ankle, making her fall. “House rules…”

“There isn’t a clock in my room, so I had no idea what time it was. The sun is up and it’s so pretty outside. Get up and we can go jog or something.”

“Sleep. Early. Now,” he grumbled, face still in the pillow but not releasing his grip on her foot.

“Damn, you are cranky in the morning. Fine then, I will go by myself,” Camille said with a pout.

“No swearing. And no, you will not be leaving this compound without me. Too many things to get into.”

She grunted and pulled away from his hand, pausing before she struck him with a pillow.

He lifted his head and looked at her sleepily. “Honey, I was up late last night writing emails. Please, let me sleep a bit.”

“It is a weekday and you said not before seven. Your clock says 7:15. You did not give any exceptions for your choice to stay up late,” Camille retorted, hitting him again.

Erik groaned, hiding his head under a pillow. “Stop. Wake me up in an hour and we can take a walk if you want.”

“No! Get up now!” The pillow struck him a third time.

“Do you want a spanking? Because that is going to happen if you don’t lay off.”

“Maybe I do!” Camille giggled, landing the pillow across his rump. She squealed as he grabbed for her and missed. She stood in the doorway, laughing as he sat up in bed, his hair sticking up every which way. “You need a hairbrush.”

“So do you, right across that little backside of yours.”

“Gotta catch me first,” Camille announced, running out the door. She paused on the small bridge, waiting to see if she had a pursuer. Yes!

“Young lady! You get your bottom back here!” Erik ordered, looking quite scruffy and bedraggled as he tied his robe around his waist. “Don’t make me chase you.”

“You can’t catch me anyway, old man,” Camille laughed shrilly, running in the direction of the compound’s hub. She dodged between the units, taking whatever bridge and crosswalk she happened upon. She skidded to a stop as Erik emerged in front of her.

“How…”

“I know every shortcut and turn of this place, brat. Are you having fun?’

“Actually, I am. I am experimenting with my character. Kicking your butt playing Candy Land last night motivated me. I really had fun, especially when I won.”

“You cheated,” Erik grunted, taking her hand and leading her toward the kitchen. “I can’t believe you woke me up though. Did you really call me an old man?”

“It’s good to know your hearing isn’t impaired yet,” Camille giggled, dodging his hand as it swung in the direction of her backend.

“You are just asking for it today, aren’t you? Give me chance to have some coffee and wake up. No, you may not have coffee.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Yeah, yeah, I heard you.”

* * *

Camille could not decide whether it was the brisk weather, having the best night’s sleep that she could remember, or the fact that she was walking, hand in hand, with the most handsome man that had ever appeared on the silver screen—whatever it was caused her to keep erupting into episodes of tiny giggles.