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’m exhausted, sobbing, and my nose is running by the time he gently turns me over and cradles my naked body in his arms. He carries me to the kitchen, wets a washcloth, and gently wipes my face. “Are you going to cuss a long string of naughty words again anytime soon, Baby girl?”
“No, Sir.” I sniffle.
“Let’s get you a bottle and then a nap.”
I nod, still sniffling.
I snuggle in close to him while he feeds me, trying to make sure as much of my chest is touching his. It’s comforting. Even though he just spanked me so hard I’m going to feel the reminder for a few days.
I hold on to his pinky while he feeds me. I usually do. I like the way he rocks me and coos at me and tells me what a good girl I am while I suck. Even though I’ve been surly and silent for two weeks, I’ve secretly enjoyed this part of my new life.
There’s no doubt in the world he adores me. He looks at me like I’m spun gold. It makes my heart beat faster every time. I love feeding times. I don’t even care if he never switches me to solid foods.
I sometimes suck slowly to prolong the feeding, knowing as soon as the formula is gone, he’ll put me in my crib to nap.
I’m not over the fact that I won’t ever have modern conveniences in my life. Nice clothes, makeup, hair products. It will take me a long time to stop grumbling about those things.
I know I was spoiled. My father was wealthy. He probably didn’t buy me those things to make me happy. He bought expensive clothes and spa treatments to make me look desirable to his friends and ensure Brad never reneged on his promise to take me as his wife.
I wonder if my father knew how Brad really felt about me. Did he realize the smarmy asshole was condescending and treated me like dog dung on the bottom of his shoes? Probably. I doubt my father cared.
If I hadn’t gone to Club Zoom that night… If I hadn’t taken the chance, snuck out of the house over and over, put myself out there…
I can’t imagine what my life would be like now. I would have been married six months ago to a man who never in my entire life would have made me come as hard as Papi just did. I would have lived seventy years not knowing love or pleasure.
Instead, I’m going to live seven hundred years with a man whose life goal is to please me. He doesn’t have pretty dresses. He doesn’t care if my breasts are small. He’s not going to force me to get Botox treatments or liposuction as I grow older. He hasn’t hired a personal trainer to make sure I’m fit and look appropriate in front of his friends.
Papi is strict. He has a lot of expectations, but they are of a very different variety. They are all in place with my best interests in mind, not his.
I hold his gaze while I think about my situation. I’m here now. There’s no going back. I can either make the best of my new life or misbehave and spend my days with a sore bottom and no pleasure.
Papi smiles. “You’re stalling, aren’t you? You’re drinking as slowly as you can.”
My face heats, and I glance away. When the bottle is empty, he sets it on the end table and rolls me closer to him, cradling me tight, nuzzling my neck. “I don’t mind,” he whispers against my ear. “My favorite times of the day are when I feed you and rock you.”
I can’t keep my eyes open for long though, and before I know it, he stands and carries me to the nursery. He lays me gently in my crib, pops my pacifier into my mouth, and hands me my doll. After tucking the soft blanket around me, he raises the side of the crib.
He doesn’t leave though. He stays, rubbing my tummy and watching me. I think he sometimes watches me sleep. It’s comforting. I like knowing he’s always keeping an eye on me, either in the room or through the monitor in another room.
I like knowing he is always here for me too. I squeeze my doll and let myself relax. So tired…
Later that afternoon, I’m playing in my playpen in the living room when Papi takes a phone call. He’s sitting on the couch, reading a book, and he doesn’t leave the room.
“Hey… Yes, it was nice seeing you too…”
I look at Papi without moving my head. I’ve perfected the peripheral side-eye. I’m pretty sure he knows it too.
He keeps talking. I’m eavesdropping, but it’s not my fault he’s sitting so close to me. He gets a few business calls most days—people needing furniture—but this call is different.