Total pages in book: 50
Estimated words: 47569 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 238(@200wpm)___ 190(@250wpm)___ 159(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47569 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 238(@200wpm)___ 190(@250wpm)___ 159(@300wpm)
Papi wraps his huge hand around one of my breasts to hold it steady before he swats my nipple three times. Hard and fast.
I cry out from the pain. It burns, and he doesn’t rub it or kiss the angry bud to soothe it afterward. He barely even hesitates before grabbing the other breast and treating it to the same painful spanking.
Tears are running down my face as he sets the spoon aside. My titties are angry and swollen. They’re throbbing, and so is my clit. Wetness is running out of my pussy.
Papi wipes my tears away and kisses my forehead. “Ready for your bottle now, Baby girl?”
“Yes, Papi.”
Chapter Thirteen
A week later…
Ganrax
As soon as Ava goes down for a nap, I step onto the back patio and pull out my phone to call Surgient. I’ve spoken to him several times in the past week about when we can get the girls together.
He picks up on the first ring. “Ganrax. How are things going?”
“Better, but she’s a very stubborn Little girl.” I chuckle. “She’s up to speaking ten words a day.”
Surgient laughs. “She is the most obstinate Little I’ve ever heard of. At ten words, why bother? Why not just start talking?”
I sigh. “It’s calculated. She’s only willing to do the bare minimum to keep from going to the doctor. I told her she had to add one word a day, so she carefully constructs her daily sentences.”
Surgient laughs harder. “What was today’s sentence?”
“I want to have a play date with Mia, Papi.”
“And?”
“I told her she could have a play date when she was done with her ornery stage. And then she started pouting.”
“You have your hands full. I’m so sorry. Mia is chomping at the bit. She probably thinks you and Ava did not actually return to Eleadia, and I’m lying to her.”
I cringe. “Sorry about that.”
“No need to worry. You have to do what’s best for your Little girl. I would handle things the same way as you if the situation were reversed. Is she standing or furniture surfing yet?”
“No. I’m certain she’s capable, though.”
“I guess when she gets desperate enough to see her friend, she’ll stop fighting you every step of the way.”
“I hope so.”
“I’ll put Mia off as long as necessary. She knows her friend is probably not handling things well. They’ve known each other a long time,” Surgient says.
“Thank you. I wish it were easier, but I need to be firm. As long as Ava insists on being stubborn, she will not earn special privileges.”
“Good luck.”
“Thanks.” I end the call and resume watching Ava in the monitor. She’s sound asleep. Or she’s faking. Also possible. She’s masterful at faking sleep, and there’s no way she’s sleeping as many hours as she pretends. No Little needs that much sleep this close to the two-week mark.
I swipe a hand over my face and head back inside, aiming straight for my office. I wander around my favorite space. My heart hurts that I haven’t shared this with Ava yet. It’s important to me, so I don’t want to share until she’s more agreeable. If I were to bring her in here and have her pretend she doesn’t care about what I do for a living, it would cut to the quick, so I’m waiting.
How much longer do I have to wait for my Little girl to come around?
A piercing scream yanks me out of my thoughts, tearing my heart out of my chest at the same time. I turn around and run for the nursery, heart pounding.
My Little girl is on the floor next to her crib, sobbing now and holding her arm. She lifts her gaze up as I run toward her. “I’m s-s-sorry, Papi.”
Her arm is twisted at an odd angle, and panic seizes me. I crouch down next to her, unable to breathe. She’s hurt. I wasn’t watching her closely enough, and she got hurt.
I glance at the crib. Obviously she climbed out. Why wasn’t I watching her? I took my eyes off her for only a few minutes. I’m so angry with myself. I tuck my arms under her and lift her off the floor to carry her out of the room.
What should I do? How bad is it? It looks bad. I can’t strap her in the stroller. That would cause her too much pain. I’m going to have to carry her. It’s only a few blocks to the clinic. Carrying her isn’t an issue.
She’s crying hysterically as I hurry out of the house. I don’t even grab her diaper bag. I just walk as fast as I can down the street, berating myself the entire time. What sort of Papi am I that my Little girl got injured this badly before I’ve even had her a full two weeks?
I race into the clinic, breathing heavily.