Page 20 of His Little Morganite
I hold my breath when he lifts his palm and keep holding it while he continues spanking me. After three more hard swats, I cry out, “Stop.”
He grabs my bottom with his palm and squeezes. “Control the need, Baby girl. You can do it.” At least he understands the reason I yelledstop.
I need to come so badly it hurts. My breasts are swaying with no contact against anything. I want him to grab them, squeeze them, suckle them. I want him to thrust his fingers into me and fuck my pussy until I come so hard I can’t see.
When I stop panting, he says. “Four more, Little one. Ready?”
I nod. I’m near tears from frustration.
He delivers the last four spanks faster than the first six. They’re just as firm, and my skin burns, but it’s finally over. My thighs are trembling violently. My pussy is furious. I collapse, letting all my weight melt against his enormous thighs.
Papi releases my wrists and gently rubs my sore biceps before massaging my back and the tender skin of my bottom.
All the while, my focus is on my pussy and my need as it ebbs. The ruined orgasm is the most horrifying experience ever. I’ve never felt anything like it. I don’t want to, ever again, either.
Papi carefully rolls me over and rises, cradling me again in his arms. He carries me to the kitchen counter and sits me on my hot bottom next to the basin. The cool surface feels good against my heated skin.
With one hand firmly on my thigh as if I might fall, he uses the other hand to wet a wash cloth and squeeze out the excess water. I wonder how many years it will take before I stop thinking his hands are so huge.
He brings the cloth to my face. “Let Papi wipe away the tears, Baby girl,” he says as he gently cleans my face.
It feels so good. My cheeks were covered with dry tears and snot.
He rinses out the cloth and returns. “Lean back a bit, brace yourself with your hands, and set your heels on the edge of the counter.”
I’m confused as he guides me into the position he wants. My heart is racing as he plants my feet as wide as possible, opening me up. When he starts wiping my arousal from my inner thighs, I bite my lip and stifle a moan. How intimate and humiliating. He has to start at my knees because my pussy leaked all the way down my thighs.
He barely strokes my pussy at the end, just enough to remove some of the tremendous moisture. Not enough to get me off. My breath hitches anyway, and I clench my vagina.
“I’m so proud of you, Baby girl.”
He’s proud of me? I was a bitch. A bratty bitch. I cried and fought and pouted the entire time. But I can tell by his smile he’s pleased. How confusing.
“Do you need to go potty, Little one?”
I hate how he’s Daddying me. Don’t I? I nod, mostly because the thought of him giving me five minutes alone in the bathroom sounds like heaven. Hell, in those five minutes, I can probably get myself off.
He scoops me off the counter and carries me through to the bedroom again. Instead of continuing toward a bathroom, though, he lowers me onto my back on the huge bed once more.
Bracing me with one hand, he reaches down to grab something from the shelf on the nightstand.
“I won’t fall, you know,” I grumble. “You don’t have to keep a hand on me when I’m on the bed or the counter. I’m not a baby.”
He sets some sort of bag next to me. I can’t see in it. He pulls out a soft towel, lifts my hips with one hand around my ankles and slides it under me. What the hell?
His hands come to my sides, and he meets my gaze, leaning over. “You’ll have to get used to my overprotective ways, Baby girl. You won’t fall because I’ll never give you the opportunity. I will never leave you unattended on any piece of furniture, the counter, or the wash basin. The furniture in my home is much higher and bigger than what you’re used to. You’ll only be on it when I’m holding you. When you’re in a highchair at the table, you’ll be strapped in for safety. Eleadian males are sticklers about safety.”
I gasp, honing in on the one word. “Highchair?” My voice comes out as more of a squeak.
“When you’re ready for solid foods, yes.”
My head is spinning, and then he changes the subject.
“I see that you keep your pussy bare, but I’m going to use a cream on your skin that will prevent hair from ever growing back. Can you spread your legs wide and hold still for Papi?”
I’m frozen. His surprises never cease. The thought of not having to shave ever again is pleasant, but the idea of him being so intimate with my pussy is unnerving. “How about if I do it instead? I can do it in the bathroom.”
He ignores me and nudges my knees open. “How about if you obey Papi like the good girl I know you have inside you so I don’t have to spank you again so soon.”