«Sweet Little» by A.B. Darling Little

Jason's an Alpha Werewolf without a Little. Like most wolves, he wants someone to love,  he wants someone he can baby. So, he goes to one of those facilities where they regress humans into Littles and adopt a sweet, eighteen-year-old human for himself.

Anya is a petite Little who's new to the system and needs a little more training to make her just the perfect fit of him. He coddles her when she's good, but when she misbehaves… there's a spanking waiting.

~~~~~ Excerpt ~~~~~

“No!” she screams and he grimaces at her shrill voice as he closes the door.

“I'm afraid she's more attached than we've anticipated. A few days with you should fix that right up, however,” the doctor smiles kindly at him and hands him a bag of medicine that he's supposed to mix into her drink to ease the process of acclimatization. He would rather not depend on drugs for easing her into her new life, but he understands the change can be a bit much for a new Little like herself.

He's not supposed to know, but Doctor Anson told him that she was one of their 'rescues'. It could mean a number of things, maybe she's an orphan living in the streets or maybe she's just gotten involved in the wrong sort of crowd. Not that it matters to him one way or the other. He's going to take care of her now, no matter what.

Still, her tears devolve into hiccuping sobs that transforms into loud, screaming cries that's accompanied by the acrid scent of panic and fear and he wishes he could make it all better for her immediately.

“Shh… Daddy's right here, baby. No need to be scared,” he coos, driving slower than he's used to in his convertible. He has the roof up despite the warm weather. Her skin is pale and pink. The last thing he wants is to get her sunburned before he's even gotten her home.

Her loud cries taper off the further they drive away from the facility and by the end of the first half hour, she's hiccuping and crying quietly in her baby seat, sniffing pathetically like that would make him turn back around. He's almost tempted to. He's pretty sure he's partially deaf by now from all the screaming.

By the time they finally reach home an hour later, she's all out of tears, sniffing unhappily in the baby seat. He wipes her cheeks and nose. “We're home, now, baby. Daddy's going to get you inside, okay? Will you be good and let Daddy carry you?”

She sniffs and nods, so he unstraps her quickly and holds her to his chest. Her heartbeat goes erratic for the first few seconds as he's walking into the house with her, but it slows again when they've closed the door behind them. Frowning, he opens the door and takes a step outside, grimacing when her scent sours instantly.

He brings her in. “Are you afraid of outside, baby?”

She sniffs and nods against his chest, fresh tears wetting the front of his shirt.

“Daddy's not going to let anybody hurt you, baby. You don't have to be afraid,” he says, wondering yet again what sort of trouble she had gotten herself into in the past to be so afraid of being outside. Poor baby. It doesn't matter now. He's going to take good care of her and she'll forget all about her past.