A sharp pang in Celine’s bladder interrupts her rest. She rolls onto her other side to alleviate the pain, brows furrowing in annoyance.
Tugging on the blanket to tighten its grip on her small form, Celine concentrates on the darkness behind her eyelids to submerge herself back into her dream.
Nina stirs at the motion. She unconsciously tugs back at the blanket, seeing to free it from Celine’s greedy grasp, and Celine allows her to win.
Content, Nina snuggles deeper into the folds of the thin fabric. She releases a small, happy snore.
Celine opens her eyes briefly to peer at her best friend, but the dark conceals the Latina girl. Despite it, Celine can imagine the azure nightgown wrapped around Nina’s tan skin as her raven-black hair halos her sleeping face.
Celine frowns as her chest tightens with envy. She wants to be asleep too.
Her dream was pleasant. It didn’t involve Prince Acheron as proven by Celine’s dry pull-ups.
However, just remembering that wicked man creates a heavy ball of lead in Celine’s stomach. The dredges of sleep slide away as goosebumps crawl across her skin. Her breathing quickens, accelerating the rise and fall of her chest.
Acheron touched her and hurt her and made her dirty. But before a full-blown panic attack can consume her, Celine’s eyes snap open. She zones in on the night light that pierces the darkness. It washes the walls with constellations.
Celine’s eyes trace the artificial stars as she soothes herself, placing her thumb in her mouth and gently sucking.
Her tongue roams over the dull ridge of her nail. She recalls what Mama and everyone else told her about Acheron — that he’s gone now and that it wasn’t Celine’s fault. But those reminders aren’t enough to soothe her.
She imagines Mama placing her on her lap and bouncing Celine on her knee after carding her slender fingers through Celine’s strawberry-blonde hair. However, Mama is in her bed chambers right now, resting.
Mama needs all the sleep she can get. It’s hard work taking care of a country as a reigning monarch, but it’s extra difficult as a widowed one, so Celine must be strong.
She may not have Mama with her, but she has Nina next to her, alongside her beloved doll Cecile, who is up on the shelf, watching over her and protecting her in Mama’s absence.
As Celine’s heart rate returns to a reasonable pace, her bladder twinges once more with sharp pain.
She needs to potty. Badly.
Biting her lip, Celine slips out of bed and tip-toes out of the bedroom. She presses her thighs together as she walks, making her gait awkward and uncomfortable.
The grandiose hallway is illuminated by the moonlight creeping through the windows. Celine scampers down to the bathroom, leaving a series of light taps as her bare feet dance over the shiny hard floor.
There’s no time to enjoy the numerous paintings adorning the walls that show Celine’s family through the generations, the ornate curls of the frames themselves, or the other tasteful decorations that make the castle home.
Her bladder throbs. Despite how tightly Celine clenches her groin or presses their thighs together, staccato bursts of pee escape. They dribble down her naked leg, leaving a dotted trail of fluid on the floor.
Eventually, Celine reaches her destination. Her cheeks burn in humiliation that she couldn’t make it to the bathroom without having an accident, but hopefully, it’ll dry by morning.
After making sure to lock the door, Celine shoves down her damp panties, yanks up her nightgown, and hops onto the toilet.
She releases a large sigh as she relieves herself. The ache in her bladder dissipates almost immediately as a stream of urine strikes the water in the toilet bowl loudly — cracking the silence plaguing the large bathroom.
When the stream dies, Celine wipes herself just like how Mama and Melody taught her and then disposes of it in the trash can. She pulls her panties up and flushes.
Celine climbs up the little step stool to reach the sink so she can wash her hands. It’s proper to use the hand towel, but there’s no one around, so Celine can take a break from being a princess. She dries her hands on her nightgown.
Feeling a lot better, Celine is about to return to her room when she hears a soft moan. It’s Melody’s voice and it’s coming down from the direction of Melody’s room.
Celine darts down the hall, her nightgown fluttering as her mind frantically whirls. Is Melody okay? Is she being hurt?
Her heart throbs at the idea of something bad happening to Melody.
Melody is her older sister in everything but blood. She’s been there for Celine since day one — holding Celine when Celine is upset, cleaning up after Celine’s mistakes and showing her how to clean up after herself, and always changing her pull-ups when she soils them from a nightmare.
Melody was one of Celine’s many anchors after the incident with Prince Acheron. Celine will do as much as she can for Melody if something similar, or the same, were to happen to the young woman, but Celine sincerely hopes that isn’t the case.
Light creeps out the gap from the slightly ajar bedroom door.
Celine peers through the crevice and quickly realizes that nothing she had been imagining is happening. Melody is alone and no one is hurting her.
But maybe she’s hurting herself because her moans have yet to recede.
Melody’s hand is nestled between her plush thighs, rubbing her private place — her kitty. Each motion elicits that noise that sounds so much like pain, and her fingers are shiny with a clear fluid.
Her fingers sink into her kitty, knuckle deep, and Melody releases a throaty groan as she pumps them in and out.
Celine bites her lower lip as her tummy begins to feel warm. Her eyes roam to Melody’s large chest.
Cupping her breast, Melody gropes herself, rolling her pebbled nipple between her fingers. Pinching lightly. Twisting and pulling. Her plump petal-pink lips curl as she releases those strange noises.
Her forehead is sticky with sweat — ash-colored hair is plastered against skin. Celine wonders how long Melody has been touching herself and why she seems so inclined to continue.
This is nothing like when Acheron put his fingers, then his dry worm-like penis inside of Celine. There’s no blood or screaming or thrashing.
Abruptly, Celine realizes that Melody is making those noises because she feels good. Because she feels pleasure.
Excitement sizzles up Celine’s spine, crisp. Melody is just playing with herself, and it’s a game — an adult game — that makes her feel good.
Maybe Celine can play it with Nina.
Energized, Celine darts down the hall, returning to her room. A large smile pulls at her lips, making her cheeks ache from its broadness.
It’s been a while since she and Nina played something new.
Usually, they play house, where Nina is the Mama and Celine is the baby who must be spoon-fed and changed. It’s fun because it’s Nina with whom she plays, but it isn’t exciting anymore.
It isn’t new.
Back in her room, Celine fails to close the door in her excitement. It sits open, ajar.
She leaps onto the bed, making Nina bounce on the mattress. Celine shakes her friend awake, nearly vibrating with impatience.
“Nina, wake up,” Celine whispers loudly.
“Celine?” Nina asks groggily.
In Celine’s absence, she had rolled onto her stomach. Her voice is muffled by the pillow as she lays face-down into the soft material. Her small form is nothing but a lump in the covers, having been swallowed entirely by the blanket.
“Yeah, it’s me,” Celine says. “Let’s play a game. It’s an adult game. I saw Mel playing it”
“It’s too late to play,” Nina says, but her voice slowly grows stronger as her body gets used to being shaken.
Celine knows she caught Nina’s interest, though. There’s an unmistakable edge to her voice that underlies excitement. It’s a familiar tone that Nina always takes up when Celine creates a new game or idea to try out.
This time is no exception.
“We won’t get caught,” Celine assures. “Mama is sleeping and Mel is busy. We don’t even need to stay quiet.”
“I think we should stay quiet though, just in case,” Nina says.
She slides out of her cocoon like a butterfly. The blanket falls off her shoulders and settles on her lap in a bunch. Yawning, Nina grinds the heel of her palm against her eye, rubbing away the residues of sleep.
The constellation night light doesn’t shed enough light for the game, so Celine hops off the bed and turns on the big light — the one that illuminates the entire room. She bounces back to Nina’s side.
“Ok, so the game is called ‘Petting Kitty,’” Celine explains, nearly trembling in excitement. “What we do is take turns touching each other’s kitty.”
“What gatita? We don’t have one.”
“We do,” Celine says. She lowers her voice even though no one else is around to hear. “It’s my special word for the private place of a lady because the inside is pink like a kitty’s tongue. Mama taught me that.”
Nina nods sagely. “That makes sense. But wouldn’t it hurt to touch each other’s gatitas?”
Celine shakes her head. “Not if we’re gentle.”
Acheron’s uncut nails scraped the inside of her kitty and the rough pads of his girthy fingers ground against the nose of her kitty, but it was too much and hurt. Then his penis plunged into her kitty and —
Nina places a hand over Celine’s quivering hand. Her voice is soft. “I’ll be very gentle then.”
Celine nods.
She takes a moment to compose herself — straightening her back, relaxing her muscles, and regulating her breathing. She doesn’t sniffle, but she wipes away the tears that had built up in her eyes at the memory of that awful, terrifying man.
“Thank you,” she says, voice wavering slightly.
“How do you play?” Nina asks.
She rubs soothing circles on the back of Celine’s soft hand. Slowly, the tight ball in Celine’s chest unfurls, dissipating into the warm night air that allows Nina and Celine to wear thin nightgowns rather than thick winter robes.
“It’s easy,” Celine says once she’s ready. “You rub the nose on the kitty — it’s the part that looks like a button — and you put your fingers in the kitty. Then you move your fingers in and out.”
“Is that all?”
“Well, you become wet too. It makes petting the kitty easier, I think.”
“That makes sense.”
“Mel also played with her boobies but we don’t have any.”
A frown tugs at Celine’s lips, marring her delicate heart-shaped face. She deflates. A strand of hair falls forward, concealing one of her green eyes.
Nina tucks the strand of hair behind Celine’s ear. “We’ll have them when we’re older.”
“But I want them now. Petting Kitty won’t be complete without it,” Celine whines.
“But if we pet our boobies, it wouldn’t be Petting Kitty anymore. It would be Petting Boobies,” Nina points out. “Mami said I shouldn’t be in a rush to grow up and get them, so you shouldn’t be in a rush either.
Celine pauses. She tilts her head to the side and contemplates. “That’s true,” she says slowly. “But boobies are nice and soft. They’re like pillows but on our mamas and big sisters.
Nina nods. Rather than reiterating her point, she decides to change the topic, distracting Celine from fantasizing about the future “Can you play with my gatita first?”
Immediately, Celine perks up. Her eyes glimmer with excitement. “Yes! But we need to play Simon Says first as a warm-up.”
Nina nods but her brows are furrowed, indicating that she’s confused.
That simply won’t do.
Celine puffs her cheeks. “Simon says: reach for the sky!”
Nina listens to her words and raises her arms. Her small limbs tremble as she strains herself, reaching as high as she can.
Celine puts Nina out of her misery. “Simon says: put your hands down.”
Releasing a sigh, Nina drops her arms. Her hands fold over her lap.
“Hop on one foot!”
Nina shuffles, simultaneously trying to shove away the large blanket covering her lower half as she leaps onto her feet, but before she can stand, she pauses, realizing what Celine said.
Celine giggles. “Got you!”
Nina’s responding smile is crooked. Despite lacking two teeth in the top row of her mouth, the smile is enchanting. Celine can’t help but grin as well.
“Simon says: take off your nightie!"
Nina, still beaming, quickly sheds the azure cloth. Bending her knees slightly, she reaches down to clutch the hem of the nightgown. She pulls it up, revealing her white bloomers.
The night air is warm, so she doesn’t shiver, but Celine’s curious gaze makes Nina chew on the inside of her cheek.
“Your rosebuds are so pretty,” Celine marvels, staring at Nina’s dusky nipples. “They’re different from mine, Mama’s, and Melody’s too.”
Nina flushes, tan cheeks heating up. A heat pools in her lower belly at being complimented in such a state of undress.
She doesn’t understand it, doesn’t know if she wants it to go away or stay, but it intensifies at the idea of seeing Celine’s nipples too. “Gracias.”
Quickly, Nina folds her nightgown, just like how Mami taught her, and sets it beside the pillow.
“Simon says: take off your bloomers.”
Nina obliges. She hooks her fingers in the frilled waistband and tugs downward. It effortlessly slides down her tan legs. She steps out of them and places them on top of her nightgown, but not before folding them.
Nina isn’t a princess. She doesn’t have maids, so Mami taught her how to care for herself. She still has much to learn since she’s only six, but being friends with Celine taught Nina how to take care of others too.
Sometimes, the adults aren’t available, so Nina is the only one who can change Celine’s pull-ups.
“Okay, mi turno,” Nina says, standing naked before Celine, who is still fully clothed. “Simon says: lift your nightie to your tummy.”
“Like this?” Celine questions, following the instructions perfectly. Hem in hands, she reveals her white bloomers. A little pink bow is attached at the center.
Nina can’t look away from Celine’s smooth legs, how her private parts are covered by the cute little bloomers, and her chubby tummy, lined with baby fat.
Celine is probably the prettiest girl Nina has seen. When they both grow up, she’ll be the most beautiful woman.
Nina wants to see more. She nibbles her lower lip, unsure of what to do about the heat simmering in her tummy. “Simon says: take off your nightie, but slowly.”
The simmer grows to a boil as Celine obeys her words — carefully raising the nightgown her chest, past her rosy nipples, and finally, over her head. She tosses it to the side. The nightgown flutters to the floor.
Chin raised, Celine stands proud in front of Nina. There’s not a speck of insecurity in her form as she reveals her milky skin, which makes her rosy nipples seem more pink. The waistband of her pull-ups peeks from beneath her bloomers.
“Simon says: take off your pull-ups.”
Celine tilts her head to the side like a puppy.
“Do I leave my bloomers on then?” Celine asks innocently.
Nina gnaws on the inside of her cheek. She hesitates, thinking, then replies. “No, Simon says; take off your calzones too.”
“What are calzones?” Celine asks, eager to learn a new word.
Her Spanish is still rudimentary, but she aspires to be bilingual like Nina. It’ll be a big help when Celine finally becomes a queen because she’ll be able to better communicate with her subjects and the people of the land.
“Underwear,” Nina explains. “Like bloomers and the panties that Mamis and older sisters wear.”
“Okay then. Bye-bye, calzones!”
In a swift gesture, Celine sheds her bloomers and pull-ups in one go. They join her nightgown on the floor, crumpled.
Both little girls stand across from each other, admiring the other’s naked form and noting each other’s differences.
“Your tummy is bigger,” Celine marvels. She extends a small hand and places it flat against Nina’s pudgy stomach. She caresses it briefly, enjoying how smooth it is against her skin, and then gives it a little smack.
It jiggles, making both little girls giggle.
Nina leans forward and smacks Celine’s belly as well. It doesn’t jiggle as much, but the sound of skin against skin causes the little girls to erupt in another round of laughter.
“Are you gonna become a Mama?” Celine asks once their giggles die down.
Nina shakes her head. “No, it’s just baby fat. I’m not gonna be a Mami until I’m older.”
“I don’t see a baby,” Celine says, staring intently at Nina’s stomach. She lowers her head to stare at her stomach. Though still lined with pudge, it’s flatter than Nina’s. “Why don’t I have any? I want to be small and round like you.”
“I like you the way you are,” Nina reassures. “I wish I had small feet like yours. They’re just like Cinderella’s.”
Celine wiggles her toes and narrows her eyes at them. “You think so?”
“I know so,” Nina says firmly. Her eyes rove over Celine’s form once more, picking the details she had initially missed. When she arrives at Celine’s groin, she gasps. “Your gatita is bigger than Dak’s wormy!”
Celine’s eyes widen. Her jaw drops slightly. “When did you see his private parts? Mama says I’m not allowed to bathe with Prince Dakota as I do with you.”
“I saw it while he was getting undressed,” Nina explains.
“Did Prince Dakota get mad?” Celine asks quietly, lowering her gaze. Nina follows it and wonders what’s so interesting about feet.
“For what?”
“Because you saw his wormy.”
Nina shakes her head, black hair swaying with the motion. “No, he just got embarrassed. Then he called for Mami to take him away.”
“Was it a scary wormy?”
“It was kinda cute,” Nina says. “But your gatita is prettier.”
Celine flushes. “I think your kitty is pretty too. Are you ready to play?”
Nina nods furiously. Her tan cheeks dimple from her smile. “Si!”
“All you need to do is lie down,” Celine explains as she presses her hands against Nina’s shoulders, gently guiding her to the bed until Nina is flat on her back. “You can put your hands anywhere you want, but when we’re older they’ll go on your boobies.”
“Uh-huh,” Nina says.
Celine presses a quick kiss to Nina’s cheek, making Nina flush. “And now, I pet your kitty!”
Her small hands trail down Nina’s flat chest. They ghost over Nina’s stomach, making Nina giggle. Celine can’t resist Nina’s laugh, so she quickly blows a raspberry against Nina’s belly button.
Nina throws her head back as she cackles. She pushes at Celine’s head gently. “S-stop! We’ll be stopped before we can even play.”
But despite her protests, there’s a smile crossing her face.
Celine swallows down a giggle. “You’re right, you’re right.”
Finally, her small hand cups Nina’s kitty. It covers the entire thing.
Nina blinks. “Is this all?”
“No, I need to find the nose,” Celine murmurs as she pokes around, feeling around Nina’s dusky labia, but not entering her kitty.
“La nariz is here, I think,” Nina says. She lowers her hand to guide Celine, but Celine swats it away gently.
Celine shakes her head. “I need to find it on my own, that’s how the game works. When it’s your turn, you’ll need to find the nose yourself too.”
“Okay,” Nina concedes. “I hope you find it soo — ah!”
A jolt of pleasure spikes up Nina’s spine. Warm and fuzzy, she can’t help the instinctual reaction to slam her thighs shut. They clamp around Celine’s hand, keeping it trapped, but also knocking it out of place.
“Did I find it?” Celine asks excitedly, prying Nina’s thighs apart. She drags her index and middle finger across Nina’s slit, now damp, and returns to that sweet bundle of nerves. “How does it feel?”
“Really good,” Nina chokes.
It’s electric, traveling up her nerves and to the very tips of her fingers and toes. Nina’s stomach clenches as she tries her hardest not to press her thighs together. She wants to push it away because it’s so new and so much to handle.
But she wants to keep it close because it feels so good.
Nina bites her lip and breathes heavily, trying to suppress the moans that would alert Celine’s maid or others to the nature of their activities, but when Celine plunges a finger inside her kitty, Nina can’t help but squeal.
“You’re so soft,” Celine marvels as she transfers her attention from the kitty’s nose to the kitty itself.
However, she isn’t going to neglect the nose completely. With her other hand, she pets the sweet bundle of nerves. In the right direction with the right amount of pressure that makes Nina’s face scrunch up so pleasantly.
Nina clutches the silk bed sheets, bunching the fabric within her small fists. Her heels dig into the sheets.
“You’re a bit bumpy, but it’s really cool,” Celine says as she feels around. “You’re so wet too. I like it!”
“G-gracias,” Nina stutters between moans. She can barely think, barely focus, from being touched so thoroughly.
Celine crooks her finger upward in a come-hither motion.
Nina’s mind goes blank.
“This is the kitty’s other special spot!” Celine exclaims to herself as she repeats the motion. She pumps her fingers and is entranced by the clear fluid that coats her fingers and the insides of Nina’s small thighs.
“You’re peeing!” Celine gasps as a damp spot forms on the bedsheet.
“N-no, I’m not,” Nina manages. Every part of her body is on fire. Pressure builds in her lower pelvis, as if she were, like Celine said, to pee.
But it isn’t there, not quite, and Nina didn’t feel anything come out of her.
“But you’re so wet,” Celine protests. “How is it not pee? Oh wait, it’s sticky. And thick,” she notes.
Curious about the fluid, Celine withdraws her fingers. Nina releases a sigh that’s a mixture of disappointment and relief. Disappointment that the pleasurable feelings are no longer attacking her, but relief that she can catch a break.
Celine’s face is a mixture of fascination and curiosity. Her delicate brows are furrowed, but her mouth is slightly agape as she inspects her slick fingers.
She rubs the pad of her index finger and thumbs together to smear the fluid around. She brings it to her nose and sniffs. “It smells kind of funny, but a good kind of funny.”
“Can I try?” Nina asks.
“Of course,” Celine says. She extends her hand, placing her wet fingers beneath Nina’s nose. Nina takes a whiff.
“Yo veo,” Nina says. “It is a bit funny.”
“A good funny for you? Or a bad funny?”
“An okay funny,” Nina decides. “I think yours would be a good funny though.”
“What should we call it? It isn’t milk or pee. Juice, maybe? Kitty juice?”
“Jugo de gatito,” Nina replies. She wrinkles her nose. “It doesn’t sound as good as kitty juice.”
“That’s okay,” Celine says. “I wonder how it tastes.”
Bringing her hand to her mouth, a small pink tongue darts between her petal-like lips. Like a kitten, she takes a small lick, then smacks her lips as she contemplates — brows furrowing further.
“It’s a bit tangy, but I like it,” Celine says as she licks her fingers clean.
The heat in Nina’s stomach is molten and she doesn't know why. She’s sure that her insides have melted into soup from how hot she feels.
“Celine, can you pet my gatita again?” Nina says in a small voice. She lowers her eyes, long lashes brushing against her cheekbones. “It felt good. I don’t think my turn is ready to be over.”
Celine nods furiously. “Yeah, your turn isn’t over yet. I’m having so much fun petting you!”
With renewed gusto, Celine continues. She strokes that special spot inside Nina’s kitty that makes Nina see stars and rubs the nose on the kitty in a way that makes the stars Nina sees explode.
Celine’s wrist begins to ache as she goes faster and faster, infusing more pleasure into Nina’s body. But her main focus, what her eyes are gazing at, is Nina’s face.
Nina’s face is twisted, but it’s beautiful. Her eyes are squeezed shut and her mouth is slightly agape as she moans, emitting squeaks that make Celine’s kitty throb. Nina is clutching the bedsheet tightly, digging her nails into the soft fabric. Her toes are curled and her legs are shaking.
“It — it’s gonna come out,” Nina cries breathlessly. She snaps her eyes open and stares at Celine, hazel iris swimming with an emotion Celine can’t identify. “You need to stop or it’s gonna —“
With a shrill cry, Nina throws her head back. A fountain of clear liquid spurts from her kitty in an arc. It splashes onto the bed sheet. Fluid quickly seeps into silk, creating a large damp spot.
Celine herself is also caught in the crossfire as the clear liquid lands directly onto her naked lap, crashing against her skin and splattering onto her stomach and kitty.
“You peed!” Celine exclaims in shock.
“Lo siento,” Nina apologizes as she pants. Her cheeks flush and her eyes well up with tears. She cowers beneath Celine’s loud voice. “I didn’t mean to make a mess and get you dirty. It just felt so good that it came out on its own and — “
“Nina, I’m not mad,” Celine says, voice gentle. “I’m just surprised. I didn’t know you could pee from getting your kitty pet.”
“When it came out, it felt like I was peeing, but not from the usual spot,” Nina says. “The pee came from my gatita, not my pee hole.”
“Maybe it’s kitty juice then?” Celine asks as she examines her wet thighs. She slides her hand against it, then shakes her head as it effortlessly glides across the expanse of skin. “No, it’s just kitty pee.”
Nina shrinks at the reminder that she wet herself, but Celine grabs Nina’s hands and pulls her forward so that she’s sitting up — preventing Nina from curling into a little ball.
“I’ll go potty too so that you’re not alone,” Celine says and relaxes her body. She pushes, forcing whatever remains in her bladder to come out.
However, because she went to the bathroom recently, there isn’t much to release. A few droplets of liquid dribble out of Celine, plopping onto the damp bed sheets and mixing with Nina’s fluid.
Despite Celine releasing very little, the ball of anxiety and shame in Nina’s chest alleviates itself. Her muscles relax, her thoughts unwind, and now all that’s on her mind is playing and having fun. “Es tu turno, Celine! I get to pet your gatita this time.”
“Yay!” Celine cheers. She leans back until she falls against the mattress, facing toward the ceiling. She spreads her coltish legs and giggles, peering at Nina expectantly through her lashes. “I’m ready.”
“Yo también,” Nina says. Her hand darts forward, excited, but before it can make contact with Celine’s kitty, Celine interrupts her.
“Wait!” Celine cries. “You need to be gentle. Very gentle.”
Her voice is thin with vulnerability, but Nina is too young to decipher it. She can tell that something is wrong, that this is about something so much bigger than Petting Kitty, but she doesn’t know what it is or what it means.
However, she does know how to listen to her dearest friend.
“Okay,” Nina says softly. Her hazel eyes stare deeply into Celine’s green ones as she attempts to communicate all the concern and care she has for the older girl. “I will.”
She wants Celine to feel as good as she did earlier, but only as much as Celine will allow. The entire thing felt good, so Nina will do her best to also bring Celine to the peak, albeit gently.
Celine smiles softly when Nina makes first contact with her kitty. It doesn’t hurt, not at all, and Nina is so warm against her that it’s nice. She releases a small moan, which emboldens Nina.
Nina carefully parts Celine’s labia. Peering around, she seeks the nose of Celine’s kitty — her clitoris. Once she finds it, she rubs it gently, just like how Celine rubbed her kitty’s nose earlier, then alters her motions until Celine’s entire body jolts.
Celine releases a sharp moan and asks, voice quivering: “Is this how it felt for you? This good?”
“Si,” Nina replies quietly. “But better.”
Nina runs her fingers up and down Celine’s slit, waiting for Celine to release kitty juice. She teases the older girl, inserting the very tips of her fingers into Celine’s kitty, but not fully entering. Celine’s hips buck, seeking fulfillment, but Nina knows she can’t put her fingers in Celine’s kitty yet.
Celine isn’t wet enough, and if Nina is to be gentle, then Celine needs to be very wet.
Nina pops her slick fingers in her mouth and drags her tongue across the small digits, lubricating them with her saliva. Celine is tangy against her taste buds. Nina wants more of it, but she’s unsure if Celine would allow her kitty to be licked.
Maybe next time. It is their first time playing Petting Kitty, after all.
Nina pulls her fingers away. A trail of saliva connects her plush lips to her fingers, but it snaps as Nina’s fingers return to Celine’s kitty.
Unlike her own, Celine’s kitty is a bright pink, akin to a cat’s tongue, just like what Celine mentioned earlier. Nina’s kitty leans on the tanner side. Duskier, but no less pretty.
Carefully, Nina inserts a finger. She watches Celine’s face, searching for anything — a contortion of pain, a twinge of pleasure. Anything to let Nina know what she should do more of or less of.
“How does it feel?” Nina asks, deathly still once she’s knuckle-deep in Celine’s kitty. It’s so soft and wet around her. Nina wants to feel around, but she can’t. Not yet, when Celine hasn’t expressed her comfort levels.
Celine exhales gently. A comfortable smile crosses her face. “I feel full. Very full.”
“Okay,” Nina says. “What about this?”
Nina slowly twists her wrist so that her palm is facing the sky. She crooks her index finger and Celine releases a shout. “Oh!”
“That’s the gatita’s other special spot,” Nina says as she continues to pump her fingers, striking that special spot within Celine’s kitty. With her other hand, she strokes the nose of Celine’s kitty, emulating the actions Celine performed upon her earlier, but tailoring them to make Celine feel as good as possible.
The insides of Celine’s thighs quickly become coated with kitty juice. The bed sheets, already stained with pee, soak it up.
Nina beams as Celine’s slender hand scramble for purchase on the silk bed sheets. “Doesn’t it feel amazing?”
“It does,” Celine chokes. Her cheeks are a rosy red and her lower lip is swollen from nibbling on it. “You’re so good at this, Nina. I want more.”
“Si,” Nina replies.
Tongue sticking out, Nina focuses all of her attention on making Celine feel good — plunging her fingers into Celine’s kitty at a faster pace and stroking the button of her kitty more swiftly. Her wrists begin to ache, but Celine’s moans are a crescendo.
Nina can’t stop until Celine reaches her peak and also wets herself.
So caught up in the game, neither of the little girls notices a series of footsteps quickly approaching. The door, already slightly ajar, slams open, and the room is flooded with light from the hallway.
“Princess Celine Adriana Ilene of Oxford and Miss Flores, what on earth do you two think you’re doing?” Melody thunders, hands on her hips.
Both Nina and Celine squeal in surprise. Nina manages one more thrust before withdrawing, and that thrust is enough to make Celine also pee herself — fluid launching forward in a delicate arc.
However, neither girl can enjoy the fruits of their labor when the head maid is staring at them so intently.
Melody’s brows are furrowed deeply, leaving a small winkle on the skin in between. Her lips are twisted in a severe scowl and a vein pops on her temple. Nostrils flaring, Melody is the epitome of furious.
“We — we were just playing,” Celine stutters once the stream ceases. Her eyes glimmer with tears and she begins to sob, heart jackrabbiting in her chest. “Please don’t get Nina in trouble, Mel-Mel. It was my fault. Punish me, not her.”
Great tears roll down her round cheeks as she bawls. However, Celine retains enough strength to cover Nina’s naked body with her own. She shields the younger girl from Melody’s harsh gaze.
Melody deflates in an instant. For a second, she looks younger than her age, shrunken from a lack of tension, wearing a loose-fitting nightgown. But quickly, she revives and returns to her caring self.
“Oh, love. I didn’t mean to upset you,” her voice grows soft and tender. “‘I just want to know why you two little ladies think this would be an appropriate game to play. Especially with the door open. If the wrong person overheard, you both could have been hurt very badly.”
“I saw you playing it too,” Celine hiccups. “And your door was open so I thought it was okay.”
All the color in Melody’s face fades. Her eyes widen and her jaw drops slightly. “You saw me?”
Celine nods meekly. “I went to use the potty and heard weird noises coming from your room. I went to see if you were okay and I saw that you were petting your kitty. It looked fun, so I woke up Nina to play. Are you gonna tell Mama?”
“Queen Ingrid was the one who asked me to check up on you two,” Melody says. She shakes her head. “I think we can keep it between us three if you little ladies are capable of keeping a secret.”
Melody doesn’t want to alert Ingrid to what her daughter and her friend discovered through Melody’s negligence.
Nina and Celine both nod warily.
Melody mimes zipping her mouth. “Zip it, lock it, put it in your pocket.”
The two girls copy her actions, albeit sniffling.
“Promise me you two won’t play this game until you’re older.”
“We promise,” Nina and Celine chorus.
“Thank you,” Melody says. Her eyes rove over the numerous wet spots in the bed, then to the sticky naked forms of the little girls. “We need to get you and everything cleaned up. Dress into your nightgowns and wait in the bathroom for me. I’ll meet you both there once I finish changing the sheets.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Nina says while Celine says. “Yes, Mel-Mel.”
The two girls crawl off the bed and put on their clothes. Nina finishes first, having organized her clothes by folding them, while Celine battles turning her nightgown outside in.
She fiddles with it for too long, so Nina helps her. Easily setting the nightgown in the correct configuration, Nina orders Celine. “Arms up.”
And Celine obeys, lifting her arms.
Nina has to stand on her tippy toes to slide the garment down Celine’s body. She accidentally puts Celine’s arm through the hole meant for Celine’s head, making them both giggle as they fuss, but eventually, the nightgown dons Celine properly.
Next, Celine pulls on her pull-ups and bloomers.
Melody is still changing the sheets, so the two little girls venture out of the bedroom and into the hallway, which is bright with light thanks to Melody.
Nina clutches Celine’s hand, still shaken from being scolded so harshly. Celine intertwines their fingers and squeezes Nina’s hand comfortingly.
“It’s okay, Nina. Mel said she wasn’t actually mad at us, just worried. That’s how adults show they’re worried sometimes. They get noisy, but they don’t mean it.”
“Are you sure?” Nina sniffles.
“Positive,” Celine says. She lets go of Nina’s hand and darts forward, the hem of her nightgown swaying. “Race you to the bathroom!”
“You’re on!” Nina cries back, earlier fear forgotten as she focuses on catching up to Celine. She gains speed quickly, hot on the other girl’s heels. “It’s cheating that you started running first.”
Celine laughs. “Maybe!”
Nina doesn’t manage to overtake Celine. Celine’s head start was too strong, but there is no ill will between the girls as they breathlessly enter the bathroom — sides sore from their sprint and hearts galloping.
The bathroom is elegant in its minimalism. The bathtub, sink, and toilet are pristine ivory and are lined with gold. The rug matches the accent and a step stool sits in front of the sink from Celine’s earlier usage.
“What do we do now?” Nina says as she marvels at the bathroom’s size. The bathroom back at home isn’t nearly as pretty, but it gets the job done.
“I think we should just wait for Mel,” Celine shrugs. She doesn’t react to the grandeur, having been raised in such an environment, but her chest does puff at how impressed Nina is.
“Okay.”
To stave off boredom, the girls play patty cake. They’re on their third round of the game when Melody, haggard, knocks on the bathroom door. “Girls, are you here?”
“Yes,” Celine and Nina chorus. They cease their game and watch Melody enter the bathroom.
“While I prepare the water for the tub, you two should undress,” Melody orders, but not unkindly. She twists the faucets in the tub. As she adjusts it, she periodically places her hand beneath the gushing water, testing its temperature.
Nina and Celine nod. Nina takes off her nightgown and bloomers swiftly, while Celine’s elbows catch on arm holes. However, she only struggles a little bit. It slides off easily once she frees her elbows.
The two little girls stare at each other's bodies curiously once more, amazed by how different yet similar they are.
They both have the same number of limbs and fingers and toes, but their sizes and colors are different, and it would be nice to find out what else is different about them — other than their kitties.
“Water is ready,” Melody declares.
Celine hops in first, trusting that Melody set the water at a temperature that wouldn’t hurt, while Nina carefully dips in a toe. Realizing that it’s a lovely warmth, she follows suit.
“We need to get both of your hair wet,” Melody says as she grips the shower head. “So close your eyes as I spray you both with the shower head.”
Celine’s eyes follow Melody’s hand. At the sight of the shower head, she freezes.
“No, no, no, no,” she chants, hugging her body and squeezing her thighs together as she brings her knees to her chest, curling into as small a ball as she can.
The shower head’s tip is bulbous, and the rest of it is long and winding, like a snake. It’s the perfect shape to go inside her kitty, and it reminds Celine so much of Prince Acheron that she’s paralyzed.
The concerned words of Melody and Nina, the tub of water she’s sitting in, and the bathroom itself melts away as Celine is submerged in the memory she’s tried so hard to suppress.
It all started two months ago when Prince Acheron visited the Kingdom of Oxford to court Queen Ingrid. Two months had passed since the death of the king, making it socially acceptable and expected that Celine’s mother would find a new spouse.
However, for the mother and daughter, it was far too soon.
Prince Acheron was the most notable suitor to Celine — he had thick sideburns, and Celine was fascinated by how strange they looked. His auburn hair was parted near the center, but not quite, and his build was broad and large. Easily, he towered over both Celine and Ingrid.
Acheron and Ingrid were talking about how the most recent storm in Acheron’s kingdom had impacted the crops. He would need reinforcements and was negotiating with Ingrid to receive those reinforcements.
Ingrid had very little to receive from providing such aid, so Acheron was desperate in his attempts to convince her.
“I’ll talk with my advisor,” Ingrid decides after an intense debate.
She turns around, then kneels so she’s at eye level with Celine, who’s clutching the back of her dress, unsure of the man who had been visiting so much lately.
“Celine, sweetie, do you think you can entertain Prince Acheron while I’m gone?” Ingrid asks as she places her hands on Celine’s small shoulders.
Celine nibbles her lower lip. She wants to shake her head ‘no’, but she’s a big girl now. Recently turned seven. Mama has also been working really hard since Papa died, so it’s the least Celine can do to help what remains of her family. “Yes, Mama.”
“That’s my girl,” Ingrid says. She presses a quick kiss to Celine’s temple and lowers her voice to not be overheard. “He has a nasty mouth, so don’t let him walk all over you, sunflower.”
Talking to an advisor was also an excuse to take a break from the insufferable prince. Ingrid fully intends to take her time.
“Good evening, Prince Acheron,” Celine greets nervously. She gives him a curtsy and deflates when he doesn’t reciprocate. “How do you — “
Acheron sighs loudly. In a second, the polite demeanor he typically dons dissipates. His dry lips curl in a sneer. “Can’t believe that damn bitch left me alone with her snot-nosed brat.”
Celine flushes a furious red. She doesn’t know what a ‘bitch’ is, but by Acheron’s tone, it can’t be anything good. “Don’t call Mama or me that, bastard. It’s Queen Ingrid or Princess Celine to you.”
Celine doesn’t know what a bastard is either, but she’s heard Mama and Melody say it under their breath a few times. Like bitch, it doesn’t seem like anything good either.
“Looks like the little bitch has some bite,” Acheron notes, voice a slow drawl. “How do you, a little girl, think you can entertain a grown man like me?”
Celine puffs her cheeks. “I’m not little, I’m seven. And well… I can tell you about my friend Nina Flores.”
“Judging by her last name, she must be village scum.”
“How rude!” Celine cries. “If you keep up this behavior, I’m going to tell Mama.”
“Do it,” he taunts. “She won’t believe you.”
Celine stomps her foot. “She will! Goodbye, Prince Acheron.”
Turning on her heel, Celine storms to the doorway. Before she can get on her tippy toes to twist open the knob, Acheron has placed himself between the door and the princess.
“I don’t think so, Princess.”
The way he says ‘Princess’ makes it seem like a bad word. Celine doesn’t like it, so she’s grateful that Acheron isn’t calling her by her official title.
“Move!” Celine demands. Her heart is thudding in her chest from fury and her cheeks, having reddened earlier, are now tomatoes.
“Make me.”
Celine takes a step forward. She’s about to try and shove Acheron away from the doorway even though he’s so much bigger than her when she remembers Melody’s words: Keep your hands to yourself.
So instead, Celine opens her mouth and calls for help loudly. “Mama! Melody! Prince Acheron won’t let me out! He also called Mama a — “
Acheron backhands her, cutting her words short. The force sends Celine hurtling to the ground. Tears well up in her eyes at the shock of pain. She clutches her jaw and can tell it will be swollen soon.
“You hit me!” she states dumbly, mind working furiously to process what just happened. “You’re a bad, bad man, Prince Acheron. When my Mama finds out — “
“When she finds out,” Acheron mocks. “You’re always hiding behind your Mama for everything. After I’m through with you, Princess, she won’t want you anymore.”
“You liar, Mama will always want me!” Celine shouts. “Unlike you, who no one wants!”
Unable to hold back her rage anymore, Celine’s small fist flies forward to strike Acheron’s stomach. However, the blow never lands.
“You mouthy little whore,” Acheron hisses, clutching Celine’s arm. His fingers curl around it easily, He squeezes hard enough to leave bruises that are a perfect replica of his grip. “I’ll ruin you.”
Celine tries to yank her arm away, but it doesn’t budge. “Let me go!”
“No one at all will want you once I’m finished,” Acheron says, dragging her back to the center of the room. His eyes rove over Celine’s quivering form, methodically taking her apart, like a malevolent child to an insect.
Celine is trapped.
“Prince Acheron, if you do not let me go then — what are you doing? Stop!”
Acheron grabs the front of Celine’s dress. In a single motion, he tears it off of her. Shimmering fabric is split apart as Celine is bared before him — concealed only by her bloomers, which are snugly wrapped around her shapeless hips.
“I won’t have a little brat telling me what to do,” Acheron says. “But aren’t you such a pretty thing beneath those pretentious gowns? You’ll grow up to be as beautiful as your slut mother one day. However, unlike her, you’ll be a whore.”
He pinches her nipple. Hard.
Celine lets out a cry as tears of humiliation and confusion well up in her green eyes. Mama said to never let anyone other than her and Melody see her naked, and to never let anyone touch her no-no square.
“Don’t touch me!” Celine shrieks. With her free hand, she tries to pry Acheron’s girthy fingers off of her arm, but they don’t budge even a single centimeter.
In her desperation, she swings her little fist forward. It slams into Acheron’s groin and he releases a shout of pain. He releases her to clutch at his stomach, groaning, and Celine hurries to the door.
She shoves away the remnants of her dress. There’s no use protecting her modesty when her safety is at stake, though her heart pangs for the beautiful fabric. That dress was one of her favorites.
“Stupid bitch,” Acheron chokes through the pain.
Celine is about to twist the doorknob open when Acheron fully regains his bearings. In a flash, he’s right behind her.
He tangles his fingers in Celine’s hair, clutching at the roots, and slams her head against the wooden door.
Once.
Twice.
Thrice.
Celine’s mind goes white from pain. She can’t think, she can’t breathe. She can only feel the crunch of her skull and the blistering agony spreading from her scalp to the rest of her body.
She’s scared that her brain is hurt too, but she’s more scared about what Acheron is going to do with her now that she can’t move.
“Told you not to tell me what to do,” Acheron chuckles over Celine’s limp form. She tries to twitch, but can only manage a pained groan as tears pour down her cheeks.
It hurts. She’s scared. She wants Mama.
“You should’ve thought twice before punching me in the balls, you stupid bitch,” Acheron spits as he turns Celine onto her back. The world spins from the motion, and Celine can’t even recoil in disgust as saliva lands on her bloody forehead, directly onto her wound.
It sinks into abrasion, contaminating her.
Maybe, if Acheron becomes part of her, she’ll become like Acheron.
The thought terrifies Celine but gives her the energy to thrash as Acheron hooks his meaty forefinger into the waistband of her bloomers.
“Don’t touch me!” Celine shrieks as her limbs go flying. They slam against the closed door and wood floor, rarely catching on Acheron himself. But when they do, Acheron releases a grunt, which makes Celine only fight harder.
Acheron yanks down Celine’s bloomers. Celine releases a wail as he spreads her small thighs apart and forces himself between them.
“You’re so fucking cute,” Acheron says as he drags his tongue against Celine’s nipple. He bites down on the little bud, making Celine scream. “Let’s see what other noises I can force out of you, you dirty little whore.”
“Don’t — “ Celine screams. The words get jumbled in her mouth. She can’t help the order they come out in. “Stop — “
“Don’t stop?” Acheron mocks. He pins her wrists above her head. His other hand trails down her chubby stomach, lined with baby fat. “You really are a slut. Does your mom know how dirty you are when she isn’t looking?”
“I’m not dirty,” Celine sobs as he grinds against her clit with his thumb. It hurts, it hurts so much, and she can’t help the tears gushing down her face.
“You are, Princess,” Acheron says. He leans forward to lick her salty cheeks. “And soon, everyone will know. They’ll leave you for it.”
He rotates his wrist and jabs a finger into Celine’s dry kitty, making Celine yowl. He adds a second finger, then a third, and Celine is bawling like a baby.
She’s so small. So weak.
Acheron relinquishes his grip on her briefly, but Celine is too worn out to try and escape. He undoes his fly and lowers his pants and underwear, revealing his penis — purple at the head and worm-like.
Celine can immediately tell where Acheron will try and put it. With renewed strength, she scrambles backward. But Acheron grabs her ankle and yanks her back to him.
“You’re ruined, you little slut,” Acheron cackles, lining his penis against the entrance of Celine’s kitty. “You’re a dirty little — “
“Whore,” Celine screams as Acheron penetrates her, stretching her wide open and making her bleed. A trail of red runs from her kitty and dribbles onto the floor. “I’m a whore."
It hurts, everything hurts, and Celine is scared, so scared.
The fear doesn’t last long because Mama arrives, slamming the door open.
“Get away from my daughter!” Ingrid roars as she shoves Acheron away from Celine. “Guards, take him to the dungeons!”
Acheron thrashes against the unrelenting grip of the guards but does not manage to dent their tight hold on him. “The little bitch had it coming,” he cries. “She was asking for it.”
“A child cannot ask for it, you rapist,” Ingrid hisses as Acheron is taken away. She curls her arms around her naked, injured daughter — holding Celine close. “Expect to be stripped of your title, banned, and forsaken to labor at a minimum.”
“You can’t do that to me. I’m not one of your subjects.”
“You are in my kingdom,” Ingrid booms. “You will be punished accordingly for breaking my laws.”
Distance drowns out Acheron’s retorts as he’s dragged away to the dungeons.
Now that Celine is apart from the vile man and in the arms of her Mama, Celine plunges into rest. She’s been strong for so long that it’s finally time for her to rest and be taken care of.
However, instead of two arms around her, there are four.
“It’s okay, Celine,” Melody’s voice says. “You’re not with Prince Acheron. You’re at home with me and Nina.”
“You’re safe, Celine,” Nina’s voice also says.
Celine realizes she’s in the bathroom with two of her closest people, sitting naked in a lukewarm tub, cowering before a showerhead.
Her mouth continues to move without her permission as her fragmented mind slowly collects itself. “ — dirty. I’m dirty. I’m dirty.”
“No, love,” Melody says as she rubs circles against Celine’s naked back. “You’re not dirty. It’s Prince Acheron who is dirty, for being so cruel to you.”
“No one wants a dirty princess,” Celine hiccups. “You and Mama and Nina are gonna throw me away just like Prince Acheron said.”
“Never!” Nina says viciously, not understanding the details of the situation, but having inferred that Acheron hurt Celine badly and that Celine needs love and care. “We’re best friends forever and ever, Celine. I’m never letting you go!”
“I second Miss Flores,” Melody says firmly. “No one in your life is going to abandon you.”
“The other maids did,” Celine sniffles. The water from the showerhead has stopped running, and upon closer inspection, the showerhead isn’t like Acheron’s penis at all.
Celine feels like a fool for being so upset and causing worry.
“The other maids were stupid,” Nina butts in. She puffs her cheeks, furious.
“They didn’t abandon you. They left because they lacked the skillset to perform the newer duties of their job,” Melody clarifies. “We received new maids and aren’t they so much better than the old ones?”
Celine thinks. She compares the behaviors and actions and is forced to agree. “They are,” she grudgingly says. “But still — “
“No buts,” Melody says firmly. “You are not dirty. You are not at fault. The people in your life still love you, like Queen Ingrid, Miss Flores, and me. Now it's your turn to say it.”
“I am not dirty,” Celine parrots, feeling a bit silly. But as she continues to speak, the true weight of her words makes a home in her chest, grounding her at this moment with the people she loves. “It is not my fault. Mama, Mel-Mel, and Nina still love me.”
“I’ll love you forever,” Nina says. She draws back from the hug, but clasps her hands around Celine’s, holding them. “Forever and ever and ever.”
“I’ll love you forever too,” Celine says, giggling. “And ever and ever and ever.”
Melody releases a sigh of relief, grateful that Celine has recovered from being triggered. She hadn’t realized the shower head was capable of producing such a reaction. But now that she knows, she can make adjustments for the future.
“Now, are you two girls ready to finish your bath?”
“Yes!”
The bath passes quickly and peacefully.
Now that all the nightly ritual has been completed, Melody guides them back to their room. Holding hands yet again, the two little girls try their best to conceal their yawns. But their eyes are droopy and their steps are sluggish and their shoulders hang low.
They are one step away from collapsing.,/p>
Melody can relate. She feels the same way, but she has a duty to complete.
Finally, they return to Celine’s bedroom. Melody tucks them both in. She presses a kiss to Celine’s temple.
Nina, watching the action, emulates it — pressing her lips against Celine’s other temple. She curls into the older girl’s side.
“Good night, girls,” Melody says. “Remember, love. If you need something, don’t hesitate to get me.”
“Okay,” Celine says. She yawns and snuggles back into Nina, hooking their arms together and intertwining their small fingers.
Melody allows herself to smile. She’s glad that Celine has made such a good friend.
Task completed, Melody flicks off the big light in the bedroom and exits the room, shutting the door with a soft click.
Her footsteps recede and the two little girls drift off to dreamland.
Several hours later, however, Nina is awoken by a series of whimpers and fidgeting. She forces her eyes open to find out what’s causing the commotion.
It’s Celine.
The little girl is flat on her back, tossing her head side to side and squirming. The blanket does not impede her movement.
“Stop,” Celine hiccups, fists clenching and unclenching. “Don’t touch me, Prince Acheron.”
A sharp hiss fills the air, but Nina doesn’t pay much attention to it. Not when her best friend is in such obvious distress.
Carefully, Nina shakes Celine’s shoulder, using just enough force to rouse Celine from her unrestful sleep. “Celine, wake up!”
“Huh?” Celine groggily asks. Her cheeks, barely illuminated by the night light, are ghostly pale. “Nina?”
“Si, it’s Nina,” Nina says. “You were having a bad dream.”
“I was?” Celine asks, muddy with sleep. She yawns, but as the yawn reaches its peak, Celine’s jaw clamps shut and a shudder crawls down her spine. Her lips wobble. “Oh… I was.”
“What was it about?” Nina asks as she intertwines her fingers with Celine’s. Celine’s palms are clammy, but it doesn’t deter Nina from giving her best friend support.
Celine, with her free hand, rubs the heel of her palm against her eye to grind away tears. “It was about Prince Acheron,” she confesses, but her thin voice indicates that more tears will shed. “He saw us together and said he’d make you as dirty as me. I couldn’t let that happen, so I — ” Celine hiccups. “I…“
The words catch in Celine’s throat. How can she explain to Nina that Prince Acheron called her ‘village scum’ and planned to ‘make her a dirty little whore’, just like Celine herself?
How can Celine explain how she pushed Nina to the side so that Acheron would brutalize her instead?
How can Celine explain how much it hurts to have a wormy shoved into her kitty over and over and over again? How the blood and semen between her thighs grew flaky after a prolonged amount of time?
How can she explain the extent to which Acheron ruined her?
“Estás bien,” Nina says softly. “You’re awake now. There are no more bad dreams to haunt you.”
“I know I’m awake,” Celine hiccups. “But it still hurts. Especially over here,” she points to where her heart lies in her chest. “It’s not a real pain, but it feels real. Just like how the dream isn’t real but felt real.”
Nina withdraws her hand from Celine’s, making Celine’s heart fall at how Acheron’s predictions came true — that she would be abandoned if the people knew how dirty she was.
But Nina doesn’t fulfill that prophecy. She wraps her arms around Celine and hugs her, pulling the older girl close.
“Can you tell me why your heart hurts?” Nina asks. She cards her fingers through the back of Celine’s strawberry-blonde hair and strokes her, just like how her Mami holds her when she has a bad dream too.
“Do you promise not to leave me if I do?” Celine sniffles. “That you won’t think I’m dirty?
“Te prometo,” Nina says. “Pinky promise.”
They link their pinkies together. “Pinky promise,” Celine repeats.
The binding promise soothes Celine’s doubt. She curls back into Nina’s arms and shakily tells her story.
“After Papa died, Prince Acheron tried to marry Mama. Two months ago, Mama left me alone with him and he hurt me. He hit me and bit me and put his wormy in my kitty,” Celine sobs. “He made me dirty.”
“Pinche cabrón,” Nina swears.
“Mama came back eventually. Prince Acheron got in trouble and now he can’t hurt anyone else, but even though he’s gone, I’m weak,” Celine bawls. She squeezes Nina and buries her face in the crook of Nina’s shoulder. “Now I cry at things that remind me of his wormy, now I have bad dreams that make me pee myself as if I’m little again and — “ Celine gasps. “My pull-ups are dirty.”
So that was the hissing sound Nina heard earlier.
Celine’s throat clogs with renewed tears. “What do we do? I don’t want to wake up Mel again, but I can’t sit in dirty pull-ups. I’ll get a rash.”
“I can change you,” Nina volunteers. “It’ll be like playing house, where I’m the Mami and you’re the baby.”
“You know how to change pull-ups?” Celine sniffles, though her sobs have lightened up considerably at the news.
“I used to wear them too,” Nina admits. “I wasn’t used to living at the royal palace in Archancia, so I would wet the bed. Mami changed them for me, and I remember how she did it, so I can change you too.”
“That’s great,” Celine hiccups, smiling through her tears.
“Do you know where the wipes and extra pull-ups are?” Nina asks as she unhooks herself from Celine. She slides down the bed.
Celine points at a dresser. “They’re in the second drawer.”
Nina trots in that direction and slides open the shelf, poking around until she finds what she needs.
Grabbing a pair of pull-ups and wipes, Nina walks to the side of the bed. She sets the supplies down on the bed. “Can you come a little closer?”
Celine nods and wiggles down until the heels of her feet are against the very edge of the bed.
“Okay,” Nina says to herself as she stares down at Celine, who gazes up at her with complete trust in those wide green eyes of hers. Nina hesitates, building up courage.
Despite her words, playing house is very different from actually changing your best friend.
When she gathers enough, Nina lifts Celine’s nightgown until Celine’s pull-ups are visible. She hooks her index fingers in the waistband, but before tugging it down, she requests: “Lift your hips.”
Celine obeys. In the spirit of the game, Nina croons. “That’s a good baby!”
Celine giggles as Nina pulls away her pull-ups, which are heavy with urine.
Nina quickly locates the trash can to dispose of it. Returning to Celine’s side, she grabs a wipe and cleans Celine’s kitty and butt, just like how Mami did to her.
Celine whimpers at the contact of such a cold material with such a sensitive part of her, but Nina shushes her. “It’s okay, baby. It’ll be over soon.”
When the wipes come out clean, Nina disposes of them in the trash, then slides a fresh new pair of pull-ups onto Celine, who lifts her hips without being told.
“You’re such a good baby,” Nina coos as she adjusts the straps, making sure the pull-ups fit snugly on Celine. “The best baby!”
“And you’re the best mommy,” Celine shoots back, grinning.
“Babies don’t talk,” Nina corrects.
Celine gasps and clamps her palms over her mouth, but Nina laughs. “The game ended, so it doesn’t count. Ready to sleep again?”
“Si,” Celine says. The word is clunky in her mouth and accented, but Nina is happy that her friend is making an effort to speak to her in her native language.
One day when they’re older, she and Celine will be able to have full conversations in Spanish.
Nina wipes her hands with a wet wipe, then crawls into bed beside Celine. They curl up together.
“Thank you for always being there for me,” Celine murmurs.
“You’re my amiga. I’ll always be there for you,” Nina says.
Heart swelling at the kindness she’s been blessed with, Celine leans forward to press a soft kiss against Nina’s cheek to express her gratitude. However, Nina shifts positions at that exact moment, making their lips collide.
“Sorry!” Celine yelps, cheeks flushing heavily.
Nina licks her lips, then smacks them curiously. She doesn’t taste anything. “It’s okay. Buenas noches, Celine,” she yawns.
Still coated with embarrassment, Celine is barely able to return to the words. “Good night, Nina.”
She can’t believe she accidentally gave her best friend an adult kiss, especially considering what happened today. If Melody were to find out, she’d be in big trouble.
However, Melody is sleeping, so Melody can’t scold her for the adult kiss. Though maybe, if Melody were awake, Celine could ask her about the throbbing between her legs.
Celine is tempted to touch herself there, but she shakes her head.
Melody said Petting Kitty wasn’t for until they were older. Only a few hours have passed since that rule was relayed.
Celine closes her eyes and wills the throb in her kitty to go away. When it does, she manages to fall into a dream that’s so pleasant, she wakes up grumpy.
“I don’t wanna get up,” Celine whines while Nina groans in support. “No, no, no!”
However, being grumpy doesn’t last at all, because the person who wakes her up is Mama.
“How did Nina and my little sunflower sleep?” Ingrid asks, gently peeling away the thin blanket. “Good, I assume, from how much you want to stay in bed.”
“Mama!” Celine beams. She quickly shoves away the blankets and opens her arms expectantly. “I slept very good.”
“Well,” Ingrid corrects as she scoops Celine into her arms. “You slept ‘well,’ not ‘good.’”
“Okay, I slept well then,” Celine says.
Nina yawns and crawls out of the blankets. She rubs the sleep out of her eyes. “I also slept well.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” Ingrid says. She switches her attention to Celine. “Are you ready to be changed, baby?”
“Can we have breakfast first?” Celine begs. “My pull-ups are dry, Nina changed them last night so I won’t get a rash.”
Ingrid shakes her head. She sets Celine down on the ground. “No exceptions. But the sooner you change, the sooner we can eat. And if you two change out of your pajamas fast enough, maybe you can both have extra dessert.”
Celine gasps. “You hear that, Nina? Extra dessert!”
“Que bueno,” Nina cheers. She rummages through her bag for a dress.
Celine, spying on her, takes note of the color of the dress and selects matching bloomers.
Excited, the two little girls zip off to do their morning ritual. Ingrid watches them with a smile on her face.
When they finish, Celine trots back to Ingrid’s side. Ingrid peppers Celine’s face with dozens of kisses, making Celine giggle, before scooping her into her arms and carrying her down to the dining room.
Nina follows Ingrid, and the three chatter — ready to conquer the day.
However, last night’s events aren’t entirely forgotten. Celine nibbles her lower lip and asks a question. “Mama, do you think I’ll become a good queen one day?”
“Of course, you will, sunflower. You’ll have a lot of guidance and help. What brought this on?”
“All the princesses that become queens in the stories and movies are pure, but I’m dirty,” Celine says, unaware of how she breaks Ingrid and Nina’s hearts with that statement. “So can I really become a good queen if I’m ruined?”
“You are not ruined, Celine,” Ingrid says firmly. “You have a pure heart and lovely soul. If you continue to care for your subjects, then you will be the most amazing queen of Oxford. There is nothing Prince Acheron can do to ruin you.”
“Are you sure, Mama?” Celine says, snuggling into Ingrid’s hold. “Do you really think that?”
“I’m positive,” Ingrid says. She presses a kiss to Celine’s forehead, infusing her thoughts and feelings. “You will not only make me proud but the entire kingdom of Oxford. Anyone who judges you for what happened is ignorant and stupid. You are not dirty or ruined. You were merely hurt. And now, you are healing.”
Celine nods. “I’m healing,” she parrots but does not understand the meaning of the words.
They arrive at the dining room. Ingrid sets Celine down. The two girls dash to the table, excited to feast, and Ingrid glides after them, contemplating her daughter’s progress since the incident with Acheron.
Every night that Celine doesn’t wet her pull-ups is a victory against Acheron. And every conversation she has involving or referencing him that doesn’t end in tears is another victory.
Surrounded by love and support, the bitter memory of Acheron slowly begins to fade away.
One day at a time.
One step at a time.