Page 37 of His Little Hessonite

Another dramatic sigh. “Papi…” she whines.

I put her bottles in the fridge and turn to her. “I’ve given you a great deal of leeway, Baby girl. If you keep using that whiny tone with me, I will discipline you. I suggest you break the habit now before it becomes too difficult for you to control the urge to whine at Papi.”

She rolls those pretty eyes again. “Fine. Whatever.”

“Sassy girls get spanked, too.”

“Papi…”

I squat down in front of her and palm her diaper. She’s wet. I’m pleased that even though she should be regaining control of her bladder, she’s still keeping her diapers wet. Dankin removed her catheter before we began the journey home, but Little girls do not have control of their bladders upon arrival. At some point after the first week, they usually begin to clench that particular muscle. Some don’t bother to try. Some fight against wetting themselves. And a very few never manage to regain bladder control.

It doesn’t matter in the end because Clara will always be diapered. Whether she wets herself intentionally or doesn’t bother to hold her urine is immaterial as long as she doesn’t hold it.

I tickle her swinging feet, distracting her and making her giggle. “We have an appointment at the clinic today, Baby girl.”

She stops giggling to groan. Even though she already knew this fact, she argues, “Papi, I don’t need to see a doctor. We just saw him last week. I’m fine. I’m not sick or anything.”

I lift her little feet and bend farther to kiss her toes. “You will see the doctor every week for a while until I decide to switch to once a month. Non-negotiable.” I unfasten her from the seat before carefully lifting her out so I can carry her to the nursery tochange her. She has enough strength and then some to hold her head up, but I’m a worrier, so I support her head every time I lift her.

As she gets stronger, it gets harder to wrangle her arms above her head and secure her to the changing table. She’s squirmy and tries to avoid being restrained. It’s almost comical since I will never change her without securing her first. If she fell off this table, I would never forgive myself.

I spread Clara’s legs wide and strap her bent knees to the sides of the table, giving her the deep vulnerability she craves. I can already scent her arousal before I open her diaper.

My Little girl tries to pretend she’s unaffected by chattering incessantly. She’s obviously decided to run down her entire agenda in the final hour before we see the doctor.

“I think you need to call for a neighborhood meeting and pass a new rule that women are allowed to wear clothes. Also, you should consider the health benefits of installing bathrooms in your homes. Just because you’ve never had bathrooms before doesn’t mean you couldn’t add them. How big of a deal could it possibly be to put in bathrooms?”

I chuckle. Her arguments are futile, but I let her continue because her debates are humorous.

“Also we could get jobs, you know. Think of all the various things women are capable of doing. We could be contributors to society. If I were to work, we would have twice the household income.”

I have her diaper off, and I’m cleaning her pussy. I realize I haven’t explained our barter system yet. “We don’t use currency here, Little one. You working would change nothing. We trade our goods and services with others in a perfect balance.”

Her eyes widen. “Really?”

“Yep. When I go back to work in a few days, people will benefit from my skills as a communications director. That allowsme to get the pretty stones I’ve ordered for your nipple rings, collar, and harness. Meanwhile, Ekert can get his furniture from our friend Strogan and so on down the line.”

She gasps. “You already ordered my jewelry?”

“Yes.”

“Even those other things?”

I bend over and kiss her tummy, trying not to laugh. “Yes, Baby girl. In a few days, we will go to his house so he can pierce your little titties and we pick up the harness and collar.”

We haven’t discussed the adornments a single time since arriving. I know Clara avoided the topic on purpose. I suspect she’s thought about it frequently, but she’s nervous about how the items make her feel.

I’ve thought about collaring her a million times. Every time I look at her, I visualize the dainty hessonite gems around her neck or cupping her breasts. I can’t wait to tether her to my side. I’m certain she will enjoy the sensation.

When I finish changing her, I release her and lift her once more. This time I carry her to the stroller, strap her into it with a five-point harness, and restrain her wrists to her sides.

She struggles as I complete that last part. “Papi, I won’t touch my titties. I promise.”

“We’ll see what the doctor says about me disciplining you. If he gives me the green light to punish you when you’re naughty, I’ll stop restraining your hands so often.” I grab the diaper bag and push her out of the house.

We will walk to the clinic. It’s not far. Only a few blocks. And I know Clara enjoys being outside.

She kicks her feet as we head down the street. “I still can’t get over the colors. There’re so many. It’s beautiful. And the sky is so clear. You don’t have any smog. Even when it rains, it’s pretty.”