Something hot pours over my pussy lips, and I do exactly as she told me to, squeezing her hand tightly as Luna rips the first strip from my flesh. Pain lances through me, and I’m not convinced she hasn’t ripped the skin right off me as I arch up with a loud cry.
“Ow, ow, Mommy it hurts! Please, no more, no more!”
“Shh, baby. It will be over soon.”
More wax, more agonizing pain as tears stream freely down my cheeks. And more of Mommy whispering in my ear, running her hand over my hair.
“My sweet girl. We’re almost done.”
“Mommy is so proud of you. My big, brave girl.”
“That’s it. Squeeze Mommy’s hand, just like that. So strong and brave.”
I don’t feel strong or brave, but her words help, at least a little. By the time Luna declares we’re done, my pussy aches and not in the fun way. As promised, Luna provides a cold pack for my diaper, which does offer some relief but not nearly enough as far as I’m concerned.
“You did so good for me, little imp,” Mommy praises as she helps me to sit up on the table, her arms tight around me. “Do you still want to go to the toy store and pick out a new stuffie? Your Uncle Evander texted to say the others are going to meet us there if you’re feeling up to it.”
Part of me just wants to go home and sulk over my sore naughty bits. But the prospect of a new stuffie lures me in, and I slowly nod. “I wanna go.”
“That’s my girl. A new toy, and as a reward for being so brave with Luna, perhaps some ice cream after?”
“Ice cream!”
Laughing at my exuberance, she helps me down from the table and as we walk she swings our clasped hands between us. The moment is so serenelynormal, I can almost forget how I came to be on the island.
Almost.
But there’s that logical little voice in the back of my head, reminding me that this wasn’t my choice. That no amount of pretty dresses and toys and sweet treats can make up for the fact that she tricked me and basically kidnapped me.
So I’ll let her play Mommy, and maybe I’ll even let myself enjoy it for a little while because why not? If I’m stuck here for the time being, I might as well make the most of it.
But as soon as the opportunity presents itself, I need to be ready to run.
Chapter Fourteen
Catharina
“Auntie Cat!”
Excited squeals meet my ears as we turn the corner. Five happy Little girls race toward me, and I instinctively reach for Victoria, scooping her up with a laugh as the others vie for my attention, tugging at my dress and bouncing on their toes while they all talk at once.
“Girls, girls!” Delighted, as I always am, by their excitement, I pitch my voice up to be heard over the din. “Settle down!”
Their excited chatter fades, and they all look up at me expectantly, while I look over at Alexis.
My Little girl is standing off to the side, her expression closed off, guarded in a way that tugs at my heart. And it isn’t until I see her there that I realize I dropped her hand when the others rushed me.
Setting Victoria down, I reach out for Alexis. She hesitates, just a moment, but that single second is enough to have guilt clawing at my chest. Taking her hand, I pull her to stand in front of me, facing my nieces.
“Alexis, you’ve already met Victoria and Natalie and Camilla.” They wave excitedly, and some of my guilt eases. “This is Juliet, she’s with your Uncle Jasper,” I gesture toward Jasper’s Little girl, who is watching us with her own guarded expression—she’s almost always the last to be won over. “And beside her is Isabella, your Uncle Gideon’s Little girl. Girls, this is Alexis. My Little girl.”
Juliet’s head cants to the side, and I brace myself. I don’t think Juliet really intends to be mean, she’s just very blunt and trust doesn’t come easily to her. We’ve already had issues with Natalie and Camilla joining our family, but if Juliet thinks for one second I’m going to let her get away with being anything other than welcoming to Alexis, I’m sure my hairbrush can convince her otherwise.
Thankfully, it seems my worry is unnecessary. “I like your hair,” Juliet says, tilting her head to the other side as she runs a critical eye over my babygirl. “Are those your natural curls?”
“Thanks. And they are, but they kinda do whatever they want.”
“Lucky,” Juliet says with a wistful sigh. “Mine is a bitch to curl and?—”
