Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 45284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 226(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 226(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Papi has left me to play in my playpen in the living room while he does some tidying around the house. So far he’s only left me for a few minutes at a time. He’s very nervous about separating from me. I understand his feelings because I don’t like to be apart from him either. It stresses me out. Apparently that’s normal. All new mates feel this way. Presumably it will ease over time, but we will never like being in separate rooms.
I’ve made huge progress now that I’m awake long enough to do exercises. The doctors say I’m right on par physically for ten days even with the setback.
I’ve explored everything in this space, and I’m excited by all the toys. At first I was leery. Why would an adult want to play with toys? But it’s growing on me. I had toys when I was a kid, but never this many. My father was stingy about spending money on things I would outgrow.
Ironic since Papi doesn’t think there’s any reason for me to ever outgrow toys. It’s not like he’s provided me with ridiculously babyish things like putting shapes through matching holes. Nope. This playpen has coloring books and way more colored pencils than I’ve ever seen. There are puzzles with lots of pieces. An ereader filled with books from Earth. That part is so cool. I haven’t had time to read for years.
There’s also a pretty doll who looks like me with curly brown hair and several outfits. I adore her. I’m holding her now, rocking her. In fact, I’m so focused on pretending to breastfeed her that I don’t notice that Papi has returned until he’s leaning over the side of the playpen.
He’s grinning, but there’s something devious in his eyes. “Is your baby doll hungry, Little one?”
I nod. “Yes. I’m feeding her.”
“She has bottles, you know,” he adds, pointing toward the shelf.
I shrug. “She’s not ready for bottles. I’m breastfeeding her.”
Papi chuckles. “Is that what you’re doing? Or do you think maybe you’re using her as an excuse to touch your nipples?”
My face heats. Shoot. He’s right. He’s told me several times that I’m not permitted to touch myself intimately. Not my nipples or my pussy. It’s hard to fondle my pussy since it’s always wrapped in a diaper. But my breasts are exposed all the time. I’m hyper aware of them and my irrational arousal.
I lower the doll to my lap. “Sorry, Papi.”
Papi leans over the side of the playpen, gently sets the doll on the floor, and lifts me out. “You’re testing me, aren’t you, Little one?” He carries me through to the nursery and lowers me onto the changing table.
I bite my lip while he fastens my arms above my head before adding several more straps, securing me more than necessary for a diaper change. Plus I’m not wet. My knees are bent and secured wide.
“What did I say would happen if I caught you playing with your nipples, Little one?”
My breath hitches. I know exactly what he said, but I don’t want to voice it out loud. I was probably subconsciously testing him by letting the doll’s lips touch my nipples. I didn’t exactly think it through, but now…
Papi sets one of his huge palms on my tummy. “I think you’re plenty strong enough to endure a punishment. What’s the rule, naughty girl?”
The suggestion alone makes my nipples stiffen. He hasn’t played with them more than necessary in the past few days. Nor has he played with my pussy. He says he’s been giving me time to fully recuperate. Apparently all bets are off now if he’s going to discipline me.
He lifts a brow, waiting for me to answer him.
I sigh and lower my gaze. “Naughty girls who play with their nipples get spanked.”
“That’s right. Where is Papi going to spank you, Bailey?”
I shiver, not because I’m afraid but because I’m nervous about this new development. “On my tits,” I murmur. He’s done so many unimaginable things to me, but every time he adds something new, I panic a little.
“That’s right. My girl is a bit of a masochist.”
I’ve heard that word before, but I’m not sure what it means. “Is that someone who likes pain?”
“Yes.” He slides his hand up to cup my breast and pinches my nipple hard.
I gasp, a strange squeak coming out of me. He must be right because I really like it when he pinches me like that. He’s been too gentle with me since we got to Eleadia. I keep thinking about the time he swatted my pussy on the night we met. The memory lingers. I felt so alive from the shock of his swat.
It’s like I was barely existing before I stepped into Club Zoom that night. I was a shell of who I could be. An obedient daughter who’d rarely done anything even slightly naughty in my entire life. I’d lived with the fear of having my education taken away and ending up living with my father for the rest of my life, sheltered and repressed.