Page 45 of Their Little Anzerine
My chest is rising and falling quickly. My pussy is still pulsing with need even though the desperation has subsided. It’s only lessened enough for me to have sane thoughts. It still exists, a constant tingling that makes it difficult for me to focus.
Kafran carries me around, rocking me against his chest for a while before passing me off to Skarg who now wears a pair of pants. I assume he has cleaned up, and now it’s Kafran’s turn.
“Such a good girl,” Skarg praises over and over, kissing my temple and cradling me close to his chest. My breasts are flattened to his, the piercings tugging just enough to provide a constant reminder that I’m now totally theirs in every imaginable way.
The nipple rings were the last aspect of our bonding, and now that I’m wearing them, I feel the weight of how deep our connection is. Their love is palpable. I feel it, too. It’s not like anything I ever experienced on Earth, and according to my Papis, I never would have. It’s the bond. It’s not a concept we have on Earth. Nothing this powerful unites people to each other.
“Let’s get a diaper on you, Baby girl,” Skarg says as he carries me into the nursery.
I whimper as soon as he restrains me to the changing table. I miss his touch. Even though his hands are on me at all times, I prefer the feeling of being pressed against him. I prefer the feeling of both of them being inside me. I wish they’d never pulled out.
Papi spreads my legs wider than usual and holds a bright light up to my folds. He intimately examines me for so long that I nearly come from his slight touch and intense gaze. He rubs a cream all over my pussy, including under the hood that protects my clit. When he’s satisfied with that, he pushes more of the ointment up inside my channel, making me buck and moan. Lastly, he inserts a generous amount into my bottom, lingering to graze over my sensitive nerve endings until I’m writhing with need.
Papi doesn’t let me come, though. Instead, he fastens me into my diaper, cleans up his hands, and then releases me so he can lift me into his arms again.
He holds me upright so my face is level with his, his hand tucked under my bottom. “I love you, Mercy.”
“I love you, too, Papi.”
Kafran joins us, smiling. He rubs my back. “I want in on this lovefest,” he teases before looking at me with a serious expression. “I love you, Little one.”
“I love you, too, Papi.” I’m all warm inside. Never in my twenty years did I expect to feel this exuberant. There were times I was happy when it was just me and my grandmother, but it’s been so long that I don’t remember the feeling.
My life is nothing like I expected. I will thank the heavens every day until I die that I jumped out of the limo and made a run for it. That decision brought me to Club Zoom and straight into the arms of my saviors. My Papis. My whole world.
Chapter Seventeen
Two weeks later…
Mercy
“Papi…” I whine as I jump up and down. “Stop stalling. You said we could go to the park after my bottle.”
Kafran chuckles as he grabs me around the waist and swings me up onto one of his hips. He reaches up to toy with the blue stone that dangles from my nipple, flicking it a few times before twisting the hoop through the tiny hole several times.
I bat at his hand to get him to stop tormenting me, but all that does is cause him to lift a brow and say, “Who’s in charge in this house?”
I sigh. “Not me,” I grumble.
“That’s right. And you get precariously close to getting your bottom spanked every time you jump up and down like that. How many times have we told you no jumping in the house?”
Shoulders drooping, I blow out a deflated breath. “I don’t know, Papi. A lot. I keep forgetting when I get excited.”
He smiles at me indulgently. “I like the enthusiasm you feel when it’s time to go to the park, Little one. It makes my heart happy to see you making friends and accepting your body.”
I hug his neck. He’s right. I have been getting used to the possibility that perhaps I’m not quite so fat. I’m a work in progress. I’m still the same girl. I’m still soft and chubby, but no one ever judges me, especially not my Papis. They stare at me as if I’m the most beautiful woman in the universe.
We go to the park often, and I’ve met other women like me. Not just chubby women but skinny ones, too. It seems like all the women have something about their physical appearance they aren’t fond of. For many, it’s the size of their boobs. For others, it’s their hair. Skin color, noses, lips, toes, nipples…
The list of attributes that women judge themselves about is long—and that’s taking into account that on this planet we’re all equals. Even though every one of us is diapered, and we wear nothing else except nipple rings, we all have physical characteristics that make us self-conscious.
I’m learning. Day by day. I’m perfect just the way I am. It’s a struggle, but I’ve reached a point where I can’t wait to go to the park and play with the other Little girls.
I’m lucky. My Papis have both gone back to work, but they work from home, and since I have two Papis, usually one of them can take a few hours off to take me to the park.
Their work is fascinating. I had no idea what they did for a living until they informed me it was time for them to return to a regular schedule. I felt rather self-centered for never asking, but they weren’t upset by that. They understood.
They work for the agriculture department. It’s interesting. Sometimes they let me sit on their laps and watch as they deal with massive spreadsheets that itemize the planet’s food sources. They work behind the scenes, making sure there’senough water, dealing with irrigation and rainfall, soil efficiency, and so many more aspects of agriculture.
