His Little Ametrine (Eleadian Mates #9)

Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Sara

This entire scenario is surreal, and part of me thinks I’m dreaming. Surely I haven’t actually been chosen by a giant alien who intends to take me away from my home planet and turn me into his Little girl. Not just Little but infant Little.

But the longer I’m here, the more I’m starting to think this is really happening. After all, my pussy aches deliciously, so I’m confident he did penetrate me with his enormous cock.

I go into my head as I help him remove the braids. It takes us a while, and Papi lets out some of the water and refills it with warmer water three times. He’s so thoughtful.

He also keeps a hand on me at all times as if he fears I might actually fall over the edge and get hurt. It’s sweet and endearing.

I’ve never thought of myself as Little. I’ve read books and enjoyed getting off on the concept, but finding the words sexy on paper and living the lifestyle are two entirely different things.

We finally finish unraveling my hair, and Papi pours water over the top of my head with a cup before filling his palms with soap and rubbing it into my scalp.

I close my eyes and enjoy every moment of his attention. It feels so good. I’m getting lost in the idea of being his Little girl. Will it always be this way? Him doting on me as if I were the most important person in his world? I could live with that.

I wonder if I can get a job as a singer on his planet. Maybe he doesn’t expect me to work, but I’ve wanted to sing for as long as I could talk. It would be disappointing if he didn’t let me sing.

Would I have to wear a diaper, though? “What else do Little girls wear on your planet, Papi? Do your men dress their Littles up in babyish clothes?”

He tips my head back and pours water carefully over my hair several times to rinse off the soap. As he rubs more soap into his palms, he answers me. “Little girls only wear a diaper on my planet, songbird.”

I gasp. “Nothing else?”

He gives me a cocky grin. “And nipple rings.”

I shudder as I cover my tits with both hands. Suddenly, my breasts feel heavy and achy. He’s serious.

“Every Papi chooses pretty stones for their Little girl. They’re a symbol of our love, kind of like wedding rings on Earth, except our unions are forever and permanently binding. We do not part from our mates, ever, on my planet.”

I clench my breasts tighter and squeeze my knees together. I’m panting as he tips my head back and rubs soap onto my face.

“Is that going to work, Papi? Your soap?”

“Yep. It’s working. I promise. It won’t burn your eyes, either, but keep them closed so I can get all the makeup off.”

A thought occurs to me. “Do you have makeup on Eleadia?”

“No, Little one.”

I tremble. My makeup is a part of me. It’s who I am and how I present myself.

He notices my nervous energy and gives my arm a squeeze before shielding my eyes from direct contact with water and pouring it over my face again.

When he’s finally done, he tips my head back, searches my face, and smiles. “You’re so gorgeous, Sara. Stunning.” His voice is reverent. “You don’t need makeup to impress people.”

“It’s not to impress them. It’s just my style. It’s who I am,” I murmur, trying not to get too emotional.

He wraps his arms around me and hugs my soaking-wet torso against his. His lips come to my ear. “I love you to pieces. I didn’t know I would feel this strongly so fast. I will do everything in my power to help you adjust to your new life. I promise.”

He calms me, his voice and his touch.

“Let me finish washing you, then I’ll get you all dried off so I can hold you.”

“I’m thirsty, Papi.” I’m beyond thirsty after singing and then fucking so hard.

“I’ll feed you a bottle in a few minutes.”

“A bottle…” I murmur. “Already?” Am I ready to jump all in on this plan? I don’t think I have a choice.

“Yes, Baby girl. From now on you will be bottle-fed. After a few months on Eleadia, I will slowly introduce new foods to you to make sure you’re not allergic to them.”

“What if I don’t like it?” I’m slightly panicking.

“You will. I’ve never heard of any Little girl not liking the formula.”

He continues to wash me in silence while more and more questions come to mind. I keep them to myself for now. My head is spinning.

When he’s done, he lets the water out and wraps me in the softest towel I’ve ever felt. As soon as I’m completely dry, he grabs a blanket made of the same material, bundles it around me, and lifts me into his arms.

He cradles me like the Baby girl he intends me to be. It feels so good to be held in his arms. I snuggle into his chest and close my eyes. I’m exhausted, warm, clean, and still thirsty.

I’m aware of him opening the fridge, and then he carries me to the living room. Moments later, he settles in a huge rocking chair and leans me back. “Open your mouth, Little one. Let’s get some fluid in you.”

I blink at him and part my lips. It’s hard to argue with him. He loves me. He adores me. The feeling is so nice I never want it to end.

It takes me a few moments to get the hang of the nipple, but when I do, I start suckling in earnest. The formula is so good. It’s like the best smoothie I’ve ever tasted in my life. I suck eagerly, draining the bottle in no time.

Papi smiles down the entire time, rocking me and kissing my forehead often. He’s pleased, and I’m so happy. Maybe I should be a bit more concerned, but some outside power is luring me into his web, and I’m powerless to stop it. I don’t even want to.

When I’m done, I’m so tired I can’t keep my eyes open.

Papi rises and carries me to the bedroom. He lays me gently on my back, careful to keep my head from flopping as if I were an actual infant.

He opens the blanket, lifts my bottom, and slides something under me. My pulse picks up when I realize it’s a diaper. I open my eyes. “Can I please use the potty first, Papi?”

“No, Baby girl. We don’t even have bathrooms like you do on Earth. You’ll never use a toilet again.”

Tears well up in my eyes. I’m not so much upset by that notion as I am just emotional about all the change.

Papi leans over me, kisses me, and then taps my lips with something. Another nipple.

I twist my head to the side. “I’m full, Papi.”

“It’s not a bottle, Little songbird. It’s a pacifier. It will help you relax.” He taps my lips again. “Open for me, Baby girl. Trust Papi.”

I part my lips and let him pop the nipple into my mouth. Instantly I start suckling. Darn him, but he’s right. It feels good. It’s calming me. I’m agitated, and this is helping.

Papi rubs an ointment into my overstimulated pussy, making me squirm, and then he secures a diaper around my hips.

My heavy eyes return. I’m aware I’m lying in the middle of the bed on my back, knees parted around the thick diaper, arms angled at my head. I feel very young. I also feel loved, cherished, and adored.

Papi tucks the soft blanket around me, kisses my forehead, piles pillows up on both sides of me, and tells me to rest.