Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 45366 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 227(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45366 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 227(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
I do though. It’s humiliating. I won’t get used to that part of things in a million years.
When he’s done, he unfastens me and lifts me into his arms. A nipple rubs against my lips.
I jerk my head away. “No more milk, Papi.”
“It’s not a bottle, Little one. It’s a pacifier. It will help you settle.”
I shake my head and purse my lips, but I think I already suckled one before. The muscle memory comes back to me. I suspect I had a pacifier in my mouth while we were still in his apartment above the club.
I start to drift off, and the moment I let my guard down and part my lips, Papi slips the pacifier into my mouth.
I wiggle to avoid it, but he’s insistent, holding my head steady and the pacifier against my mouth. He keeps rocking me.
I can’t fight sleep. I’ve never been this tired. I’m marginally aware of several things as I drift off. I start sucking the pacifier, and Papi gently lowers me into the crib.
Chapter Seven
Kendra
I quickly realize the one thing I hate more than wearing and using a diaper is getting changed. I feel so exposed. Papi always straps me down so I can’t “fall off the changing table.” As if that’s even possible. The restraints make me embarrassingly horny for reasons I can’t comprehend.
Besides the fact that I’m still uncomfortable being naked in front of Papi, most of the time Surgient is in the room too. It’s the most humiliating experience of my life.
They part my legs so far and secure them so well that I’m sure my pulse rate is through the roof. And then, to make matters worse, they spend far too much time leaning in to get a closer look at my private parts.
Surgient has examined my vagina enough for a lifetime, even if that lifetime is indeed centuries long. Apparently I’m not bleeding and since nothing hurts, I’m fine. No repercussions from removing the IUD. Why does he insist on examining me over and over anyway?
All I’ve done is eat and sleep since I got here. I’m not sure how long it’s been because I’ve totally lost track of my sleep cycle. I’m groggy and slightly hung over, and I don’t think it’s from the alcohol. That has long since left my system. It’s from the formula and the medicines they keep putting in my bottom and the piercing quill.
I’m tired of it, and I fight Papi as he picks me up for I think the fourth or fifth time. He’s always right next to me the moment I squirm or breathe differently. It’s overwhelming.
I hate that I’ve grown used to the pacifier too. I keep telling myself I will spit it out as soon as he turns around, but every time I awake, I find it’s still in my mouth and I’m sucking it like my life depends on it.
When Surgient enters the room, I groan. “No,” I argue, trying to free myself from Papi’s grip. I don’t even care if I fall on the floor. I just want to be free of his clutches.
Papi ignores me and lowers me onto the changing table, but I kick my feet out and shove at him. “No. Please. I don’t want this. Please let me down. Let me walk. Get me some pizza and a soda. I don’t want another bottle.”
Especially the walking part. My feet haven’t touched the floor since Papi picked me up in the bathroom on the first floor of Club Zoom.
“Shhh,” he soothes in a soft voice. He’s always gentle, but also unflappable.
“Have you spanked her yet?” Surgient asks.
I shoot him a glare.
“No. She’s racked up quite a tally from cussing alone, but I haven’t disciplined her yet.”
“I think you should. She needs to know you mean business. That you’re firm. It’s possible she either consciously or subconsciously needs the punishment. If you’ve threatened but not followed through, she could be testing you.”
Damn him. His psycho babble is ludicrous. I don’t want anyone to spank me or anything of the sort. That’s crazy talk.
Papi takes Surgient’s damn advice though, lifting me back off the table and carrying me to the sofa. He sits right in the middle.
I’ve never wiggled and fought so hard in my life. I’m not at my best though. Every movement feels sluggish. “You can’t spank me, Bialar,” I shout, using his name to make my point. “I’m a grown woman. Not a child.”
I’m no match for him though. He doesn’t even need Surgient’s help flipping me over on his lap and dragging my flailing hands to the small of my back so he can clutch them in one of his. He’s so much larger than me that he dwarfs me.
I arch off him, which causes my breasts to rub against his thigh. “No, Papi,” I plead, hating the tone of my voice. I sound as Little as he’s treating me.