Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
Zingar
My Little girl is adorably disgruntled when I strap her into her high chair. She frowns and complains because I’ve started restraining her wrists to her sides before putting the tray on.
“Papi…”
We’ve been through this many times in the past few days.
“I promise I won’t get my hands in the way.”
I tap her nose. “I know you won’t, naughty girl. You can’t because they’re secured against your hips,” I tease.
She rolls her eyes. “But I can feed myself.”
Around and around we go. It always starts with her insisting she won’t try to take the spoon from me and then turns to this other direction where she argues she doesn’t need me to feed her at all.
I’m not angry. I’ll never get angry with her.
She’s found her voice, and I’m so glad that she’s healthy and happy that I don’t care if she’s sassy and whines.
It’s a game we play. She tests me so that she can prove to herself that no matter how naughty she is, I will never turn my back on her.
Nor will I ever get so frustrated that I snap.
This is what my girl needs, and she’ll get it from me even if she continues to whimper and protest for two hundred years.
I’ve learned that it’s hard for her to ask me to spank her. I’ve explained that anytime she feels like she needs to feel the sharp sting of my crop or my palm she can just make the request. But my mate prefers to misbehave.
It’s cute. She never does anything that’s actually unsafe.
That’s how I know she’s just using her naughty behavior to fulfill her needs.
She doesn’t open the front door or drag a chair to the counter and climb up to a dangerous height.
She hasn’t opened a knife drawer or played with an electrical socket.
No. My girl likes to backtalk or whine. She argues about things that I know don’t bother her like me feeding her or bathing her. She loves when I take care of her. I know this because I can scent it on her. Bailey simply uses any opportunity to push me for a punishment.
I’ve been swatting her nipples and her clit at least once a day. She loves the sting. And my Little girl is going to lose her sweet mind when we get all her piercings in place.
We haven’t discussed my plans yet because there was no need. I’m simply going to tell her that we’re leaving right before we head to Ekert’s.
I’ve spoken to Ekert several times. He sent me pictures of the stones he and Sophie have chosen. Thirteen of them. It’s excessive, but we’re doing it. All at once. Today.
I told Bailey we would discuss piercings after she’d been here two weeks. That’s today, but there will be no discussion. If I thought she really objected to the idea, that would be different. But my girl goes wild when I prick her skin in every one of those locations.
We haven’t had sex yet because waiting until today for that was also important. I’ve spent a lot of time between her legs, though, usually when she’s on the changing table. I don’t miss any opportunity to lower my mouth to her pussy and pierce her labia all up and down her folds.
I don’t numb my girl before I prick her, so she’s beyond prepared to accept the hoops. After a few strategically placed numbing injections, she’ll be able to get all eight hoops along her labia—four on each side—without feeling a thing.
Several things are going to happen before that this morning, though. Starting with my girl whining about her secured wrists.
I calmly grab the back of her hair, pull her head back to elongate her neck and make her feel vulnerable, and then kiss a line down her neck and chest until I reach a nipple. Without warning, I hold her little bud with my teeth and push my quill into her areola.
Bailey cries out in fake protest.
Her pretty nipple is swollen and throbbing when I release it, and I flick my tongue over the tip to reinforce my punishment.
Is it really a punishment, though? No. Not at all. If I checked her pussy, I would find it soaked. I can smell her essence filling the room.
“Papi…” Bailey pushes her bottom lip out and pouts.
I chuckle as I settle in front of her with a plate of food.
I’m still processing everything I feed her so that it’s a soft consistency.
I’m not willing to give her anything solid that would require actually chewing.
It will be months before I do that. For now, she’s stuck with spoonfuls of relatively bland foods that won’t upset her tummy.
We’re up to three today. Her variety is growing.
I’m also reintroducing formula soon. That scares me more than one food at a time since it’s hard to know for sure if the ingredient that’s been removed is the correct one.
But the doctors assure me that my mate has suffered no actual harm from the months she was sustained with the original formula. It simply made her lethargic.
“Are you going to be a good girl now while I feed you?”
“Humph.” She rolls her pretty eyes.
“After breakfast, how about if I braid your hair?” I’ve been working on my skills. It’s in the Papi handbook, but I’m not great at fixing her hair yet. Mostly because it’s so curly that it’s hard for me to get ahold of it properly.
She giggles. “You can try.”
I laugh. “Naughty girl.”
“What’s the green food?” she asks, her feet swinging.
I know she’s excited every time I add a food. Eating nothing but chimspa would get boring in a hurry. “It’s called scorven.” The third food on her plate is orange—talmiac. I added that one four days ago.
“What if I don’t like it?” she asks.
“Then we’ll ditch it and find something you do like, Baby girl. You know that. I will ask that you try it several times first. Every new food is going to be odd to you. Nothing is going to taste like anything you’ve ever had.”
“Okay.” She sighs dramatically. “I really thought the talmiac was going to be like sweet potatoes. It looks just like pureed baby food. It doesn’t taste like sweet potatoes, though.”
I’m not overly familiar with the foods humans eat on Earth. We study them but only in passing because we never eat their foods while we are on Earth, so there’s no really good reason to learn much about them.
I offer her a small bite of scorven.
She scrunches her eyes while she tastes it and swallows. “Hmmm. I think it’s okay. Kind of like a cross between green beans and broccoli maybe.”
I feed her a larger bite, trying not to let myself get nervous. Every Papi has to worry when introducing new foods, but in my case the stress is compounded by her reaction to the formula.
Feeding my mate in her high chair isn’t quite as satisfying as bottle feeding her. It’s not as intimate since she’s not cradled in my lap. But it’s still bonding, especially with her secured in the chair. Her breasts are front and center, tempting me.
They’ll be even prettier after we add the turmerion stones. The next time I feed her, I’ll be able to torment her at the same time by tapping the hoops every once in a while so that they sway and keep her nipples hard.
When her food is gone, I clean up the kitchen and wipe her face before releasing her. I reluctantly set her on her feet when she squirms in my arms. I only let her start walking yesterday. She’s still a bit wobbly but obstinate and determined.
I give her bottom a gentle pat. “Bedroom, Little one.”
“Yours or my nursery?”
“Ours.”
As she heads that direction, I follow her, nearly having a heart attack when she enters the bedroom and starts skipping across the floor.
She makes it about halfway before I sweep down, wrap my arm around her middle, and lift her off her feet. I kiss her neck. “Such a naughty girl.”
She giggles. “You didn’t say I couldn’t skip, Papi.”
I drop her onto the mattress, flip her onto her back, and pin her arms to her sides. “I’m pretty sure skipping falls under the running umbrella. You might fall and hit your head. No skipping in the house. You can do it when we go to the park.”
“I noticed all the other women run and play at the park. You’re saying you’ll let me do that, too?”
“Yes. The grass is soft, and there’s a lot of space. Much safer than in the house. Understood?”
“Yes, Sir.”
I release one of her wrists to palm the front of her diaper. “Empty your bladder, Baby girl,” I order.
She squirms.
“Not optional. Do it now for Papi.”
After releasing a deep breath, she squeezes her eyes closed and pees for me. When she wants to be, she’s capable of being well-behaved. I understand perfectly why she chooses to be naughty often, but I think she also senses when I mean business. “Done?”
She nods.
I remove her diaper and clean her sensitive skin.
“Are you going to spank my pussy, Papi?” she asks.
“No, Little one. I’m going to fuck your pussy. How does that sound?”
She gasps, her eyes going wide before a grin spreads across her face. “Really?”
“Yes. Are you ready for that?”
Her vigorous nod is all I need. That and the fact that arousal rushes out of her from the suggestion alone.
I press my mate’s thighs open and lower my mouth to her pussy.
She’s irresistible. I do this more than once a day.
I can’t help myself. Her scent keeps my cock hard every day.
It’s time to empty it into her tight channel.
Especially since Ekert is probably going to suggest I not do so again for a few days after the piercings.
I haven’t asked him specifically how long, but I have spoken in private to Thabo.
He’s aware of my plans and has told me that she will heal faster than she would have on Earth.
Most likely she’ll only need a few days before she can take me into her body again without hurting.
I’ll do everything in my power to make sure my Little girl gets her needs filled for the rest of her life. If she enjoys the bite of pain from swats or the prick of my quill, I will oblige her, but I don’t ever want her to suffer pain that actually hurts from injury.
Bailey is already moaning as I suck her entire pussy into my mouth.
This is the last time I’ll be able to do this with her skin bare and free of jewelry.
From now on, when I eat my Little girl’s pussy, it will be adorned with so many piercings that my saliva will drive her crazy entering all those holes.
I haven’t specifically mentioned that detail either.
“Papi…” she cries out a moment before she comes against my mouth.
Fuck, she’s precious. There’s nothing sweeter in the universe than the taste of my mate’s essence on my tongue.