Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
Bailey
It’s working. Ever since I stopped taking the formula, I’ve felt more and more normal. Every time I wake up, I stay that way longer than the last time. I’m not fond of how many times we go to the clinic, but I know it’s necessary.
Still, I argue. It’s what I do. It’s like I’ve got twenty-one years of repressed arguing that needs to come out.
It makes Papi laugh. He knows what my childhood was like. He also knows that I lived under my father’s thumb, afraid to confront him on any issue up until the night Papi found me in the club. That was the end of my old repressed life and the beginning of this new repressed life.
Papi is strict. He has more rules than my father ever had. Some of them are absurd like not opening the front or back door for any reason or not crawling into the kitchen without him because there are too many things in that scary room that might cause me harm.
I’m permitted to use the furniture to pull to standing so I can surf around the room but only if Papi is there to supervise. I’m not allowed to stand when I’m in my crib or my playpen.
The list is long, but there’s a drastic difference between my new life and my old. I can argue. I never fear what the repercussions might be from voicing my opinion. I never worry that he’ll cut me off from his protection or kick me out of the house or stop feeding me.
The notion of any of that happening is absurd. Papi adores me. He’s developing wrinkles in the corners of his eyes from smiling all the time. His body shakes with laughter every time I’m disagreeable.
It’s so freeing to know I can tell him no. It doesn’t change anything. It’s just banter. He’ll never cave and decide that I can climb on the furniture, for example. But I enjoy needling him anyway. For one thing, it helps me release tension.
It will probably be a while before I fully trust that he loves me and would never leave me. Papi has explained that Fate has chosen me for him, and it’s not a bond that can be broken. Relationships are never dissolved on Eleadia for any reason. It’s not a concept they grasp.
Every time I disobey him or argue, he calmly pauses to spank me. So far, he’s only given me a few swats to the bottom, but I know one day soon he’s going to get more serious about his discipline. He’s holding back on me until I’m fully in control of my body.
My trust in him increases each time I push him and find him still smiling. He doesn’t mind my naughty side. In fact, he enjoys it.
I’ve eaten the chimspa for four days now.
I’ve only had that, water, and vitamin supplements.
Today Papi is going to add another food.
I’m looking forward to the variety. In a few days, I’ll start taking bottles of formula again.
Chadka and Thabo believe they’ve isolated the ingredient I’m sensitive to.
They’ve removed it. Drinking the new version will be more like trial and error.
If it doesn’t work, we’ll be back at square one.
I’ll end up asleep, and the doctors will have to eliminate something else.
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.
That’s gone now. I don’t have to worry about anything like that ever again. I keep telling myself over and over that I’m loved and cherished by a man I can and will defy. But I crave the ways he makes me feel. When he spanks me, I’m not numb.
I want him to swat my nipples. It will hurt, but in a strange freeing way. That’s how I’ve felt every time he’s spanked me, including the time he slapped my pussy.
My lips tremble. I’m embarrassed by my feelings, but I want him to know. “I like it when you hurt me, Papi,” I murmur softly.
He switches to pinching my other nipple, smiling. “I know you do, Little one. That’s okay. Lots of Little girls enjoy a bit of pain.” Papi moves his hand down between my legs and palms my dry diaper. “You’ve gotten naughty about wetting yourself now that you have control over your bladder, too.”
My cheeks heat. He’s right. I’ve wondered when he would notice. The thought of him punishing me there is enough to have me holding my pee for hours. It’s so naughty. Do other women have these feelings?
Papi opens my diaper and discards it. “I think you need both your nipples and your pussy spanked, don’t you, Little one?”
“Yes, Sir,” I whisper. Wetness leaks out of me at the suggestion. I keep having the same recurrent dream where a faceless man pierces my labia. Every time I have that dream, I wake up wet and panting.
Papi isn’t touching me. He stares at my wet folds for a few seconds before opening a drawer on the changing table and pulling something out.
When he holds it up, I gasp. “What’s that, Papi?”
“It’s a crop.” He gives it a shake. “See the little flap at the top?”
I nod. I might be in over my head.
“Crops are common on Earth in the Dominant scene. They’re usually leather. We use a synthetic material on Eleadia, but the result is the same. It will sting when I swat you with the small flap.”
I swallow back the combination of nerves and excitement.