Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 44495 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 222(@200wpm)___ 178(@250wpm)___ 148(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44495 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 222(@200wpm)___ 178(@250wpm)___ 148(@300wpm)
Clara is sniffing now. She’s also trembling as she stares down at her swollen, red titties. “Hurts, Papi,” she murmurs.
I can practically see them throbbing. “Are you going to play with your titties in the future, Baby girl?”
She lifts her gaze to me and licks her lips. “I don’t know.”
I chuckle. At least she’s honest. I unfasten her wrists so she can bring her hands to her sides, cup her neck, and kiss her soundly. “Fair enough. I guess we’ll find out. You’ll have plenty of time to decide if you like having your titties spanked or not.”
She shudders. “What if I like it?”
“Then I’ll either increase the number of swats and the pressure to make it more painful, or I’ll have to find other ways to discipline you, Little one.”
“What other ways?” She’s a curious Little girl.
I shrug. “Maybe you won’t like standing in the corner with your nose to the wall. Maybe you won’t like wearing a catheter all the time. Maybe you won’t like it if I put a large plug in your bottom and make you wear it all day.”
She gasps and grabs the sides of her seat, stiffening. “I didn’t like having that tube in my bottom yesterday.”
“Then I suspect you won’t like a much larger, heavy plug either.” I lift a brow. “I’ll let you decide.”
She shakes her head. “Why would I decide that?”
I smile. “I don’t know, Baby girl, but I will find out what you don’t care for because you’ll do anything to avoid it. That’s how discipline works.”
She blinks and purses her lips before lowering her gaze to her chest again. “Still hurts, Papi. Maybe you could put cream on them?”
I chuckle. “You are a naughty girl.” I reach into the diaper bag and pull out a small tube of ointment I don’t intend to need to use often. I twist off the top and squirt a small amount on my finger.
Clara sighs, thinking I’m going to give her relief. She’s sadly mistaken.
I rub the ointment on her swollen nipple and then switch to the other, applying the same amount to it before she can grasp what has happened.
Clara’s eyes widen, and she white knuckles the sides of the bouncy seat. “Papi, what is that?”
“Does it burn?”
She nods. “So bad.”
I put the cap back on and clean my finger. “It’s supposed to. It will burn for about fifteen minutes. Next time I spank your titties to discipline you, don’t ask me to put ointment on them afterward.”
She tries to arch her body, but comes up short. The strap across her chest is too tight. She can’t buck. Her struggle is futile. It only makes it harder on her that I’ve let her have her hands. The temptation to touch her nipples must be strong. I’m confident she will resist. She may decide she likes pain along the way, but I doubt she wants to make it worse for herself at this moment. She’s not fully on board with that decision yet.
“Owie,” she protests. “Hurts.”
“I notice you’re not touching your titties, though,” I point out.
She tips her head back and straightens her legs out. She can’t bring them together, so they form a wide V. “The pain is making my pussy throb.”
That’s what I thought, and it’s the reason she might decide to do anything it takes to keep her pussy wet and needy. It feels good. It maintains a constant low-level arousal. From what I’ve read, the feeling is euphoric. Female humans aren’t used to the sensation of constant arousal. They learn to crave it.
The truth is, she will feel a certain amount of need all the time simply because of the bond we have. It swirls around us and will never fully abate. But Clara will learn to manipulate me to keep that level higher. She’ll do whatever it takes to get her fix.
We will learn a balance together with time.
Chapter Thirteen
Clara
I’m restless. It’s hard to keep from touching my nipples. They burn in a way I’ve never experienced. It’s a constant torment that doesn’t seem to be subsiding.
I keep gripping the edges of my seat, but no matter how much I flex my fingers, I’m worried I will give in to the urge and squeeze my breasts. I need the pressure to alleviate the throbbing pain.
My nipples are obscenely swollen and red. They don’t even look like they’re mine. I wonder what they will look like after Papi gets them pierced. It’s unimaginable. The thought of having permanent hoops with large stones dangling from my constantly exposed nipples is hard to comprehend.
It’s also oddly titillating. I try hard not to think about it much because it makes my pussy clench, and I’m pretty positive Papi can scent every time my pussy is wet.
“Would you like me to restrain your wrists, Baby girl?”