Page 11 of Papa's Little Bride
“I-I am sorry for what you just witnessed.” My lower lip trembles, and it takes all my strength to hold back the tears. “I will be leaving now. Goodbye.”
What other choice do I have but to leave? And what other choice does he have but to order me out? Other than the strange illness I have, he’switnessed me in a most compromising and shameful situation. He has more than one reason to order me out, and I would rather leave on my own than linger to hear him denounce me and direct me toward the door.
“Why are you leaving?” Again, his tone is kind. He’s still blocking the doorway, and the shock gradually fades from his face, to be replaced with an expression of concern that leavesme confused.
“I’m leaving because there’s something wrong with me. I’ve apparently caught some strange illness.” I don’t mention the shame that’s coursing through me, but that’s another reason why I must go. I’m far too embarrassed, and I doubt I’ll ever manage to look him in the eye again. Not after he glimpsed me with my skirts flipped up and my nether region exposed as I touched myself.
A smile twitches at the corners of his lips, his dark eyes twinkle for a moment, and a look of understanding dawns on his face. “Faith, I promise there is nothing wrong you, sweetness. You are not ill, but even if you were, I would not wish you to leave. I would want you to stay and I would help you heal.”
“But there is something very wrong with me.”With my privates. Oh, how willI ever find a cure? I could never confess to a doctor, or anyone else, the nature of my symptoms.
“Something is wrong with your cunny? Your little flower?”
Oh, my face has never felt so hot. I nod and clasp my hands tightly in front of me. Now and then, I sneak a glance at Papa, but mostly, I continue studying the floorboards.
“I assure you that the symptoms you are experiencingin this moment, Faith, are no cause for alarm.” He moves forward and cups my face in his large, warm hands, tipping my chin up and forcing me to meet his gaze. “You are simply aroused, my little one.”
“Ar-aroused?”
“Yes, my darling. Your cunny is swollen and wet, is that correct?”
“Yes.”
“Do you remember how you were squirming downstairs, and I made the comment thatthe idea of becoming my little girl and my bride is making you achy between your thighs?” After I nod, he continues. “Your current condition is simply related to how you were feeling downstairs. You are becoming more and more aroused, likely because you know I’m about to strip you naked and bathe you, a very intimate act between a papa and his little girl.”
“Will I always feel…aroused?”I’m beginning to understand, but if I feel this way all the time, I don’t know how I will function. How will I resist the temptation of stoking the sensitive pleasure button I discovered hidden within my slick folds?
The corners of his lips twitch again. “You won’t feel this way every moment of the day, little one. Your sexual arousal will come and go. It means you desire the touch of yourpapa, which is perfectly normal. Don’t fret, sweetness. Papa is going to help you with the ache between your thighs, but first, we must get you undressed.”
