Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Allisa
He’s manipulating me. It’s so frustrating.
We’re playing a game. He thinks he’s winning, but I’m the one who’s winning. After all, the man just gave me an orgasm, and I don’t think he fully understands how much I thrive on his firm dominance.
I’m strong enough to pull myself up with my arms. I’m also strong enough to lift my legs higher, even with the evil bar between them. But I prefer to test him. I like it when he reprimands me like a naughty Baby. His firm tone makes my heart race.
Here are the things I know for certain. I’m addicted to that pacifier. I hate when he takes it away. We both knew that would probably happen when he let me have it, but I don’t think either of us calculated how much power that would give him.
Another thing is that restraining me in any way also makes me horny. This bar between my ankles is causing me to lose my head. Sometimes when I’m not very sleepy and he puts me in my crib, I can’t fall asleep because being spread open makes me feel so vulnerable and exposed.
Instead of giving me covers, he puts a heated pad under me. Sometimes the chill in the air makes my titties stiff, but that might also simply be a result of having my arms forced high above my head.
It’s working. The position is beginning to feel natural. When he puts me in the crib now, I lift my arms for him on autopilot, bending my knees to his preferred angle also.
He’s never used that spreader bar on me outside of my crib. This is new, and the effect is heightened by the fact that I’m naked. Without my diaper, I’m more aware of my open pussy and the arousal dripping between my legs.
Papi leans over me, planting his hands on either side of the A-frame.
“You are my world, Baby girl. The most precious being in the universe. There is nothing you can do to change that. I’m well aware that you’re testing me.
It’s normal. You need to know I will not balk.
What I say goes. You will obey me or suffer the consequences.
Right now, your behavior is keeping you from sucking on that coveted pacifier. ”
He’s right. Darn it. He’s got me. The only reason I’m defying him is because the reward for my obedience is always sweeter after a bit of denial.
I’m warped. That’s for sure. I keep pushing the boundaries, making sure Papi will not cave. He’s proven he won’t, but I still keep trying.
His palm comes to my belly. Every time he does that, his long fingers end up grazing my nipples. It’s intentional, and it drives me wild.
By the time I finish the five required sets, I’m actually exhausted. Both exercises are awkward and strain my muscles.
I want him to release my arms and let me have my diaper, but I suspect he has other ideas.
“Good girl. Now, let’s work on your speech.”
I shake my head. “Binky.”
He ignores my request and reaches to unfasten one of my cuffs from the bar. Thank the heavens.
Except my excitement is short-lived because the mean Papi reattaches the cuff to the far end of the bar. He does the same on the other side, forcing my arms into a V. When he’s done, he lifts the A-frame and tips it back so that the bar I’m attached to now rests on the floor above my head.
I’m stretched out in a more vulnerable way, and he has easier access to my body.
“There. That’s better, isn’t it, Baby girl? Now your arms aren’t dangling.”
This is most definitely not better, so I scowl at him.
“In order to work on your speech, I made some flash cards. It will be good for you to read from them. Reading will challenge your cognitive skills while repeating the sentences will help strengthen your vocal cords.”
I can already guess I’m not going to like this lesson. It’s unnecessary. I can read fine. I can also speak fine. If I want to. Which I usually don’t. I like the headspace I sink into when I have the pacifier in my mouth. It allows me to feel younger, needier, and more dependent.
He holds up a pile of large cards. I can’t see the fronts of them, so I don’t know what they say. “I want you to read each card. Articulate the words slowly. When you’ve read each sentence ten times, I’ll let you have your diaper and pacifier.”
I frown. It looks like he has five cards. Maybe this won’t take long. I just need to prove to him that I’m capable of reading and speaking. That’s what he’s afraid of.
I don’t think Papi minds me using a pacifier most of the time, but he wants to ensure that I’ve regained all my cognitive and vocal abilities since we arrived on Eleadia. I know the doctors at the clinic are concerned.
When he holds up the first card, I sigh. “Papi…”
“What? Can you not read it, Little one?”
“Of course I can read it, but I don’t want to.”
He chuckles. “Ah, how about that? My girl does have full sentences in her. Last I checked, this was not a democracy. It’s a dictatorship. I know what’s best for you and will enforce my rules every day until you realize I’m not going to back down.”
He shakes the first card. “When you’re ready.”
I glance at the pacifier sitting on the dresser. I might as well cave. He’s not going to relent. “Fine. My Papi has my best interests at heart, and I will not question his authority.”
He beams as if I truly accomplished an amazing feat. “Excellent. You can both speak and read. Who knew?” he jokes. “Repeat the card nine more times.”
I want to be angry. He’s treating me like I’m a baby. But isn’t that exactly what I want? I lose track of how many times I repeat the card, but I’m grateful when it’s done.
He holds up the second one.
I roll my eyes. “Papi…” I whine.
“Is this one too hard, Baby girl?”
I push my tongue out at him next. After all, I don’t have much at my disposal. I can eye roll, push out my tongue, and spew verbal venom. It seems like shouting at him isn’t my best laid plan right now.
Papi taps the card.
I grumble before I start. “I must learn self-control. I will not touch my naughty titties or my greedy pussy without Papi’s permission.”
He grins. “Excellent. Keep going. The repetition will help you remember the rules.”
I don’t need to repeat this rule out loud in order to remember it. He’s made this rule abundantly clear. But I recite it nine more times to appease him. Three more.
The next card reads “I will not push to standing or climb up on any furniture because my safety is important to Papi.”
I sigh and begin. Two more.
Oh great. The next one makes me hesitate and purse my lips.
I will go with Papi to the jeweler’s today to get my titties pierced.
I shudder as I read it in my head again. I’m scared to get my nipples pierced. It’s so permanent. Papi said the hoops are not removable. They will dangle from my titties for the rest of my life for everyone to see.
He’s pressuring me. When I look at him, his brows are raised.
“Today, Papi?”
“Today, Baby girl. No sense putting it off.”
“But it will hurt.”
“It won’t hurt. Not a bit. I’ve told you that. The only thing you will feel is my quill when I numb your titties. I’ve pierced your little buds several times. You know what it feels like.”
“But they don’t even come off?”
“Nope. They’re a symbol of your commitment to me. They will dangle from your pretty pink nipples forever.”
“Can I have my pacifier while you do it?”
“If you’d like, Baby girl.”
At least he’ll give me the option to self-soothe while a stranger sticks a needle through my nipples.
“Read the card, Baby girl. Ten times.”
I inhale deeply and repeat his demand ten times.
“Good girl. One more card.” He holds it up, and I take another deep breath. I knew this was coming. Just like I knew the piercings were on the docket. But am I ready?
I hesitate for long seconds while Papi waits patiently.
Finally, I read the card. “I thrive on a deeper regression than other Little girls. I will obey Papi and let him take measures to help me achieve diaper dependency.”
Papi smiles. “Say it again, Baby girl.”
I read it a second time. It doesn’t feel as insane as the first time.
“Again,” Papi encourages.
As I repeat his last proclamation over and over, something shifts in the air. He’s watching me closely. He knows I’m caving to his wishes because deep inside I want the same thing he does—a deeper dependency on him.
By the time I repeat the fifth card a tenth time, it doesn’t feel quite so ominous. Who cares if I stop trying to control my bladder? It’s not as though I’m eventually going to have permission to use panties anyway.
It’s not about using or not using a diaper. That’s not up for debate. It’s about submitting to Papi deeper than the average Little girl. It’s about trusting him to take care of me. Turning over my control.