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zorroabdaddy

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zorroabdaddy last won the day on May 5 2018

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  1. Taken from the ABDL Ménage à Trois Romance: Threesome, here is a little story about setting made plans into motion. Oh, the motions. --------------- The Start of Something Good Tuesday evening Kylie and Erica lived in an old brick building that had been converted from a warehouse into an apartment complex that was called The Stockyard. Every floor had nine apartments, each containing the floor number and one letter of the word Stockyard. Their apartment was the first one to the left of the elevator on the third floor. And on their door, it read “3s” - aptly named for their new collective state of mind and only missing three other letters to make it a complete thought. Greg rode up the converted freight elevator to the third floor and walked over to their apartment door, knocking and then stepping back. “Sweet pea, he’s here!” Erica’s voice could be heard saying from inside the apartment. “Hurry up! Get out here!” “How do I look?” Kylie asked with an excited tone, scampering out from the hallway. Kylie was wearing a white baby-t and the tell-tale bulk of a diaper underneath a pair of soft pink bib shortalls. “You look adorable, sweetie,” Erica said with a maternal grin. Then Erica opened the door, seeing Greg standing there in a pair of jeans and a white button-down dress shirt. “And you look so good I could eat you up,” Erica said to him. “But I wouldn’t want to spoil our dinner. Come in.” “Thank you, hot stuff,” Greg said with that deep timbre in his voice that rippled right through Erica’s body every time he spoke. He took one step forward and received a charging hug from Kylie, Erica laughing softly at the exuberance of her little girl. Greg hugged her back as he stepped into the apartment. “And your Mommy is right, Princess,” Greg whispered to Kylie. “You are absolutely adorable.” Oh, if he only knew how his words had just melted that BabyGirl like butter in a frying pan, he might have then understood why she kept clung to his side as Erica led him around the apartment for a quick tour. The game of wiles was already on, Erica taking graceful steps and swishing her flowy dress as she led Greg back the lone hallway - showing him the bedrooms and the guest room and all. She was in no particular hurry to move things along, though dinner was a timely manner. That night was about setting the gears of a plan in motion. Erica and Kylie were in search of a third, that garnishment to add to their already-fulfilled lives. And they were certain that this rugged hunk of a Daddy named Greg would adorn them quite well. The kitchen was connected to the living room, making the entrance way to their apartment seem larger still. And the girls were quite the homemakers, everything having a place and everything having a matching décor to it that gave the apartment a country-like feel. They had specifically chosen that apartment because of how the evening light cascaded into the living room, giving a warm glow to the end of each day. And on that particular evening, the glow was brilliant. “Dinner is served,” Erica said with a song-like quality, Kylie leading Greg back out to the kitchen and showing him his seat at the end of the table. “Kylie why don’t you get Greg a drink?” Kylie waddled into the living room and got the bottle of wine Erica picked up after work that day, taking it over and handing it to Greg. “I do believe this was the exact same brand they had at that bar and grille on the night we met,” Greg said, Kylie having retrieved three wine glasses and returning to the kitchen table with them. “Uh-uh,” Erica said while shaking her head, getting the container of fruit juice from the fridge and exchanging it for one of the wine glasses. Kylie blushed and lowered her chin as she took a seat, knowing what was coming next. And though she played up the game as well, it was those subtle moments of embarrassment that always put her mind in a submissive state. And oh, did she love how that made her feel. Not only did she get Kylie’s sippy cup from the cupboard, handing it to Greg to fill with the fruit juice - but she also got out one of Kylie’s bibs, attaching it around the BabyGirl’s neck. Greg smiled as he filled the cup with fruit juice, then screwing the cap on and setting it in front of Kylie. Erica set hot pads on the kitchen table and went to the stove. “And what do you say, Sweet pea?” Erica said with a maternal tone while raising an eyebrow. “Thank you,” Kylie said softly, then smiling sweetly before covering her face with her hands. Erica reached into the stove and took out a pan that permeated the air with a most wonderful scent. Setting the pan in the middle of the kitchen table, she took a seat as well - Greg smiling again as he saw what was for dinner. “Seafood,” Greg said, smiling brighter still. “You remembered my favorite food.” Greg reached to either side of the table, taking hold of one of Kylie’s hands and one of Erica’s hands. “Thank you both,” Greg said with sincerity. “Ah-ah!” Erica interrupted. “Remember what we said about pleasantries. They’re not necessary, when sentiments are already clear.” “But they are necessary when kindness is shown … though it didn’t have to be,” Greg said, then kissing each of their hands. “I needed to get that out of the way.” The seafood was salmon, topped with thin lemon slices, garlic, onions and butter. Around the salmon was an assortment of vegetables. And it looked as mouth-watering as could be. But Kylie spent no time looking - first filling Greg’s plate, then Erica’s plate, then her own. “Oh, my. This reminds me of seafood nights my parents would hold in our garage when I was a kid,” Greg said, sinking his fork into a piece of the flaky salmon and putting it into his mouth. “In your garage?” Kylie asked with laughter. “A seafood night could get pretty messy. So, we dragged picnic tables into the garage and lined the tops of them with newspapers,” Greg explained, sinking his fork into another piece of salmon. “Then my Aunt and Uncle would arrive with two bushels of crabs, heavily coated with old bay seasoning. The next-door neighbors would walk over with a pot boil spread of cooked vegetables, all coated with seafood seasoning. I was allowed to invite a friend to these gatherings.” “And I bet you picked the kid down the road you always road dirt bikes with, right?” Erica asked with a grin, then sipping from her wine. “No. He was a part of the family who lived next door,” Greg replied. “But I once invited this super-shy, sweet girl from my class at school. Her name was Katie. Her family was incredibly poor.” “Aww, your first BabyGirl crush?” Erica teased. “Well …,” Greg said, then pausing to smile as he looked out the window by the kitchen table - getting lost in reflection. “Yes and no. I did sort of take care of her, so to speak. You see, she was mercilessly picked on by my classmates. I was really her only friend.” Kylie and Erica looked at each other, confirming the same thought of approaching this conversation with caution as it seemed they had accidentally stumbled onto a topic that might have been traumatic for him … if not also painful in memory. “Why was she picked on?” Erica asked cautiously. “Because she was incontinent and had to wear a diaper,” Greg answered, Erica and Kylie being dumbfounded by hearing this. “And they picked on her because of this … heartlessly.” “That was really cruel of them,” Kylie said with a soft voice. “Yeah, it was,” Greg answered bluntly. “And I protected her from them. I actually got into a fist fight with one kid because he was teasing her. She had never spoken a mean word to anyone, never gave anyone a reason to not like her. Yet, still … they picked on her every day.” “I don’t even know what to say right now,” Kylie admitted. “She undoubtedly was grateful for you,” Erica said, jumping in and putting positivity back into the discussion. “Have you stayed in touch with her since …when was this … since middle school?” “It was actually elementary school, third grade,” Greg replied, then sipping from his wine. “But, no. I have no idea where she is nowadays. In fact, her family moved away at the end of that summer.” Kylie and Erica looked at each other again, both fighting back tears. “Have you looked for her?” Kylie managed to say. “Oh my goodness, yes. But I’ve never found her,” Greg admitted, then setting his wine glass down and smiling - suddenly realizing how downtrodden the moment had become. “So, I suppose she truly was my first BabyGirl crush. But, no. I never changed her diaper. The school nurse always did that.” The girls laughed with him, happy he had lightened the mood. “Follow that story up,” he said with another laugh. “It’s not possible to follow that up,” Erica said with honesty. “But I’m truly touched by having heard it. Saddened, but still touched.” Kylie and Erica would finish their plates of food, both agreeing that they ate too much and felt over-stuffed. But Kylie kept drinking from her sippy cup, keeping a devilish grin on her face as she was setting up what the rest of his visit would entail. And Greg had three plates, giving the girls ample time to prod inside their new third’s mind, reaching places that wouldn’t be accessed through casual talks and ensuring that he would become so much more than just a dinner partner. “Do you travel much?” Erica asked, she and Kylie having moved their chairs closer to the end of the table and thusly, closer to him. Greg was no fool and he picked up on the signals they were sending out. They had already flirted quite a lot, but just through words. It was soon time for something more than words … very soon. “On occasions, yes,” Greg replied, sliding his plate forward and putting his elbows on the table as he leaned in towards them. “I’ve always wanted to visit a place called Mauch Chunk.” “Really?” Erica asked sweetly, Kylie beginning to shift in her seat - her diaper crinkling with her movements. “What’s Mauch Chunk?” “It’s this Victorian-style town, upstate a bit about two or three hours, that’s built on the side of a mountain - just off of Route 209,” he answered, then finishing his glass of wine. “What’s so special about it?” Kylie asked, batting her eyelashes but then slightly scrunching up her lips and shifting in her seat again. “Breath-taking views of the area, museums, a railway system, tons of history and tons of tours, not to forget to mention restaurants and all the privacy your little heart could desire,” Greg said to Kylie, the girl shifting in her seat again - this time with more discomfort than before. “Desire is a most wonderful thing to find, from a simple little trip.” “Sweet pea, do you need to be changed?” Erica asked, her maternal tone overtaking her voice as Kylie lowered her chin slightly - blushing a little. “Come on. Let’s go.” Erica stood up and reached in front of Greg, making him slide his chair back but not before she brushed her breasts across his face while reaching for Kylie. The BabyGirl took Erica’s hand and began to pass in front of Greg, only to be stopped by Erica who then took his right hand and used it to cup the underside of the BabyGirl’s diaper - over the front of her pink shortalls. Kylie kept her inner thighs tight against the sides of his hand. “This is what her diaper will feel like when she needs to be changed,” Erica whispered into Greg’s ear while pressing his hand up into her diaper. “When she wets herself, it’s a flood. And it’s important to keep up with how wet she is, so she doesn’t overflood.” Erica led Kylie towards the living room, Kylie grabbing Greg’s hand - making him stand up and follow them. The BabyGirl’s face was brightly blushing and it looked like she was becoming a bit dizzy, her steps being labored and uneven as she was having trouble with balance. Getting into the living room, Erica slid the coffee table away from the couch, Kylie standing there and waiting patiently as her Mommy offered the couch to Greg for a front-row seat. “She gets very quiet at this point,” Erica explained, kneeling and reaching under the couch to pull out a blue mat. On that mat was a new diaper, wipes and powder - strategically placed there by the girls earlier that day. But Greg didn’t know that. He also didn’t know how deeply Kylie craved the specific kind of attention that came from such overwhelming humiliation as what she currently felt. It was a drug to her, something for which she would do almost anything in order to receive more. And no matter how fast her heart pounded or how dizzy and woozy she felt, she was always primed for the chance to be made just a bit more docile by the most powerful addiction she had ever known. “Come on, Sweet pea. Lay down,” Erica said with softness in her voice, Kylie getting down onto her hands and knees - then crawling over to the blue mat and getting onto her back. Erica unfastened the shoulder straps from the front of Kylie’s bib shortalls, then reaching into her cleavage and taking out a pacifier. Kylie opened her mouth and took the silicone nipple of the pacifier in between her lips, immediately starting to nurse on it. Erica slid the shortalls off the BabyGirl’s legs. Kylie stared up at the ceiling and nursed on her pacifier steadily as she bent her knees and parted them while lifting her legs into the diaper changing position. This position always forced her to place her arms flat on either side to keep her body balanced on the mat. “Good girl,” Erica said with syrupy sweetness in her voice, Kylie turning to mush on the inside but finding the ability to turn her head to the side and make eye-contact with Greg as the tapes at her hips were unfastened and the front of her diaper was lowered off her center. Greg marveled over how Kylie’s face was able to find deeper and deeper shades to blush into. But the girl’s eyes showed how very much she was enjoying the situation she was in the middle of as well as the vulnerable exposure she was now being subjected to. “You’re being such a good girl for Mommy,” Erica said with continued syrupy sweetness, now mixed with a song-like quality in her voice. “And I know Greg is very proud of you, too.” Greg was not only proud of her but mesmerized by how both Kylie and Erica were somehow bonded in this moment, as if they could read each other’s minds and had likely done so in this very situation so many times before. He watched as Erica took a wipe to Kylie’s front and then to Kylie’s back side, the BabyGirl rocking back ever-so-slightly and lifting her tail bone at the precise moment to allow the cleaning to be one continuous motion. “Kylie is female. Always clean front to back with a female,” Erica said to Greg with maternal tone. “This is important to remember.” Greg smiled and nodded, making a mental note of it. But when Kylie was clean, Erica got up and sauntered around behind the couch as Kylie got up on her knees in front of Greg. It appeared she wasn’t going to be put into a new diaper. Erica leaned over his left shoulder and smashed her breast into the back of his head as she guided his arms behind his back. As this was happening, Kylie reached up to his waist and unfastened his belt - then unbuttoning his jeans and lowering the fly. Greg opened his mouth to speak as Kylie reached inside his boxer briefs. But Erica covered his mouth and whispered in his left ear. “Don’t make me tie you down, Daddy,” Erica said with a seductive tone, heavy-laden with lust - Kylie pulling out his stiffening erection and gripping it with her left hand as she gazed up at him longingly. “We have to get this out of the way, too.” Greg raised an eyebrow. She had used his own words against him, but he wasn’t complaining at all. Kylie’s strokes were even and deliberate, her squeeze having an occasional pulse placed into his girth. “Be a good girl, Sweet pea. Get him ready,” Erica said with a breathiness to her words as she reached forward and took the pacifier out of Kylie’s mouth, Kylie lowering her head as she pulled his shaft towards him and placed the tip of her tongue at his base. Flattening her tongue on his already-bulging underside vein, she placed a deliberately slow lick upward to his tip and then wrapped her lips around his head. Tightening her lips, she pulled his entire head into her mouth - increasing the suction as she began to draw saliva into her mouth. It was alarming to him how exacting she was with this and how absolutely taut she was able to keep her lips around his girth. She incrementally drew more and more of his length into her mouth, the warm and wet confines of her mouth being even more invigorating as she swirled saliva around his shaft. More and more of his length was drawn into her mouth until her lips were tightly wrapped around his base. And there she held him, with his tip now past her gag reflex and into the back of her throat. Then she made a small growling noise, the vibrations of the sound traveling into his shaft - making him lean his head back and breathe deeply. And finally, Kylie started bobbing her head up-n-down, slowly to start and then with more fervency - her pigtails flopping about from the motions as she concentrated on effecting his entire length. Her right hand maintained a tight grip around him stiffness when it was outside of her mouth, then releasing him when he re-entered. Several minutes of this took place, Erica’s arousal increasing as she watched from behind him. And when he shuddered, Kylie let out a tiny little feminine whimper - signaling to Erica that Greg’s pre-cum saturation had happened. Smiling devilishly, Erica reached into the left cup of her bra and took out a condom. “You’re being such a good girl,” Erica repeated with that same syrupy sweetness as she held the condom in front of Greg and removed it from the wrapper. “And I know Greg is very proud of you, too.” Proud wasn’t really the word he would have used just then to describe how he felt. But it was fine she used it. Erica pushed the tip of the condom out of the rolled-up length. And as if Kylie knew the exact moment to react, she lifted her head up, taking his length out of her mouth - then lifting her chin up to Erica. Erica placed the rolled-up condom on Kylie’s lips. The BabyGirl drew in gently on the condom and held it there as she lowered her head back down. Erica walked around to the front of the couch, watching Kylie place her lips around the tip of Greg’s rock-hard stiffness. And then Kylie plunged her mouth down onto his shaft, the condom unrolling down his length. He audibly reacted with a gasp as Kylie got up onto the couch afterwards and sat alongside him. Erica smiled as she bent her right knee and lifted her right foot up under her dress. Pinching the back side of her panties between two of her toes, she drew the panties down her legs and kicked them across the room - Greg’s eyes growing wide at what she had just done. It was as impressive as when a girl took her bra off without removing her shirt. “You are …. very flexible,” Greg said with breathiness as Erica climbed on top of him and straddled his lap. “You have no idea … yet,” Erica said with lustfulness in her eyes as she lifted the front of her dress up and positioned herself above him. Kylie got up on her knees and the girls shared an open-mouthed kiss as Erica grabbed the back of Greg’s head and pulled him forward, smashing his face into her breasts. Ending the kiss, she released his face as she sat down ever-so-slowly and ever-so-gently until his head had passed through the opening of her canal. Closing her eyes, she nibbled on her lower lip as she tried to lower a bit more. But there was resistance she had to overcome. “It’s been a while,” Erica said with a fussy voice. “I’m sorry.” “Don’t be sorry,” Greg said with a steadied tone as he could feel the tremble of her body and the tightness she was keeping. “It’s okay.” Not wanting to see her Mommy denied any pleasure, Kylie reached up and lowered the left strap of Erica’s dress off her shoulder. Then the BabyGirl leaned in and wrapped her lips around the areola of Erica’s left breast. Placing the hand on the back of Kylie’s head, Erica held her BabyGirl’s head in position as Kylie drew the areola into her mouth - finding the latch and beginning to nurse. “Oh, Sweet pea,” Erica said with teariness in her eyes and tone. Taking hold of either side of Erica’s waist, Kylie gently pushed her Mommy downward. Greg’s shaft slid up inside Erica, causing her to gasp as her opening reached his base with a soft thump. Swooning from the feeling of being fully penetrated, something she hadn’t felt in quite a few years, Erica welled with tears. Lifting her eyes to the ceiling, she placed her right hand on Greg’s left shoulder, still holding Kylie against her breast with her left hand. Widening her straddle a bit more, Erica lowered her frame as far down as her thigh muscles would allow and then she began to glide back-n-forth. Concentrating on grazing the ridges on the front wall of her sweetness across the tip of his erection, she worked up a bit of speed. Kylie released her latch of Erica’s breast and sat back, tears welling in her eyes as well, watching her Mommy place both hands on Greg’s shoulders for the leverage she needed to increase her gliding speed. For a short while, she kept a steady rhythm. But then her glides became erratic, as if she was trying to push past something. And before long, she was thrusting herself into his stomach while sinking her thumbnails into the skin of his collar bones. Pausing to shudder, she slickened with new wetness before taking longer and slower glides. She would grab his face and kiss him forcefully, gazing down at him and submitting to the controlled gaze he sent back up to her. It was intoxicating to be on top and to know that, at those moments when she lost her composure, he wouldn’t do anything to disrupt her frenzied journey to the summit. At points, her core muscles tightened, thusly contracting her canal around him before releasing. It was only a matter of time before she erupted and Greg was contented to allow her all the time she needed. Her emotions would overload her and she would start crying and then suddenly she would find control of herself again. All the while, Greg’s steady gaze up at her remained as the constant she needed, the foundation from which she could repeatedly build upon. And without speaking the sentiments, a bond was forming between them. Then all at once, Greg seized up - his orgasm arriving and his seeds shooting out. Feeling the heat from the condom, Erica skyrocketed to the summit - lifting her eyes to the ceiling and moaning out her pleasure as her canal tightened and release, tightened and released, tightened and released. And then she collapsed on him, wrapping her arms around his neck and slowing her glides done to a motionless conclusion. Sensations, thoughts, affection and chemicals swirled throughout her entire frame - making her weary for the moment but leading to eventual gratification … for the long haul. Carefully, Greg eased her down onto her back and slowly withdrew himself from inside her, holding the condom as to not allow any misfortunes to take place at the blissful completion. He got up and walked back to the bathroom to clean himself up. In the time he was gone, Kylie eased Erica onto her back and then climbed on top of her - gently teasing her Mommy into the mellowing enjoyment of afterglow … that blessed afterwards only a female could know the pleasures of. Greg returned to the living room and to the couch, then having both girls sit on his lap - each settling onto one of his thighs and leaning backwards. His hands held them at their waists initially but moved down between their legs before long. Kylie and Erica looked at each other and then kissed as his fingers produced some wonderful sensations within them. Kylie, who did not like penetration, reveled in the surface touch and massage she received. Erica, having rediscovered the pleasures of being filled on the inside, enjoyed one more bit of entrance as his fingertips paid a visit to her already-affected ridges. Not only could Erica only vaguely recall the last time she had been penetrated by a man, but she couldn’t remember at all the last time she orgasmed because of penetration. Oh, yes. Greg was definitely who they were looking for to make a threesome that would be as near to perfect as possible. This was definitely the start of something good. Later that night It was now 11:45 pm. And though Erica and Kylie would pay dearly for it the following morning, neither was even remotely tired. They both truly got what they wanted, in more ways than one. They just simply had to know what it would be like with Greg if and when things turned sexual. And for as superficial as it may have been, it would have been the deal-breaker if Greg hadn’t taken to it and if he suddenly hadn’t fit the bill so perfectly as he had up to that point. If he was accepting of it, he would be their garnishment. The only step left was to ask him outright. And as both girls had already made clear and agreed to, he would be equal as their third. But that didn’t mean they weren’t going to call him their garnishment. Greg had headed for home about an hour ago, kissing them both in a manner and with a passion that was more pronounced than before. This made logical sense, given the physical connection they had just made with him. Erica and Kylie were feeling the abundance of passion too. Though not sleepy at all, the girls at least got ready for bed - Erica finishing up in the bathroom and Kylie laying on her back on their bed in a little white nightie. She was intensely searching the internet on her phone, reading up on things that often got in the way of threesomes, impasses and road blocks that often ended such relationships. It was time to make their connection with him bullet-proof. “Do you know what the number one cause of disharmony in three-ways is?” Kylie asked, reaching for Barry the bear and tucking him under her arm as she kept looking at the results she found on her phone. Erica laughed, walking out of the bathroom in a towel. “Did you just call it a three-way?” Erica asked, taking a second towel and then bending over to wrap it around her wet hair. “Yeah. What would you call it?” Kylie asked, turning her head and looking at Erica. “That’s what it is.” “Well, yeah … but,” Erica said, looking back over at Kylie and waiting for the response she knew Kylie would give. “Oh, yeah!” Kylie said, sitting up and watching Erica de-robe her body from the first towel and toss it back into the bathroom. “We should give it our own special name!” “I thought you’d say that,” Erica said with another laugh, walking over to and opening the top drawer of her dresser. “Let’s sleep on it. But go on. What’s the number one cause of three-way disharmony?” “Lack of communication,” Kylie said, laying back down and returning to her phone. “I guess that would be a problem in any kind of relationship,” Erica said, putting on a pair of white cotton panties and grabbing a camisole before opening the second drawer of the dresser. “That would seem to be a common problem.” “Well, within a three-way … wait a minute! Let’s just go simple and call it a threesome,” Kylie said as Erica reached into the second drawer of the dresser for a few items. “Okay,” Erica said with no shock. “Threesome it is.” She knew it was a simple curiosity of the mind that Kylie just needed to find an answer to … and she had. “Okay, so in a threesome relationship, the problem isn’t just that there is a lack of communication so much as the specific information that is not being communicated,” Kylie said - focusing back on her phone and not seeing the diaper and other accessories Erica had gathered. “Namely, these articles speak a lot about jealousy.” “That makes sense,” Erica said, setting the items in her hands alongside Kylie on the bed and then gently tapping her BabyGirl’s hips - Kylie bending her knees and bringing her thighs together as she lifted her legs. “In our case, it could happen a lot. There are two girls in our situation and only one guy. Jealousy is bound to happen.” Erica picked up the diaper and unfolded it, then scrunching it up in her hands to mold it into a more human shape before laying it flat to the mattress. Kylie instinctively followed her movements while still reading from her phone. But it was when Erica caressed a palmful of baby powder across Kylie’s bottom that the BabyGirl redirected all of her attention to what her inamorata was doing. She barely held onto her phone as it dropped to her chest. Gazing up at Erica for a split second, Kylie then closed her eyes, the cool, silkiness of the powder feeling Heavenly on her skin - especially at a moment like this … when she was still so fresh from the shower. “But you and I communicate very well. We always have and it is the most important rule in our relationship,” Erica said ever-so-sweetly, easing the girl’s powdered bottom down into the inner softness and nestle of the diaper. “And Greg’s entrance into our lives will not change that. When one of us feels jealousy, we simply admit it to the other. And if we can’t do that, then Greg goes - because we’d suddenly be compromising what we already had … in order to keep him.” Kylie nodded shyly, feeling a swell of emotions from the sensations she received from Erica’s hands. Instinctively, she parted her thighs. “But another way to prevent jealousy is to head it off before it happens, eliminating the circumstances that welcome it into our thoughts in the first place,” Erica said softly, taking another small palmful of powder across her BabyGirl’s front. “Like … going through an entire evening and watching the other two orgasm without having enjoyed that pleasure yourself. And I thank you for that sacrifice.” Kylie’s eyes widened. Oh my, did she love Erica with every bit of her heart. To not only recognize the surrender Kylie had made earlier but to also hear Erica say it now meant the world to Kylie. “But it’s a sacrifice that will never go unnoticed,” Erica said, reaching for something else on the bed. “And it’s one that will always be rewarded. Rewards are the greatest defense against jealousy.” Erica placed a small amount of petroleum jelly on her BabyGirl’s hood and then folded the front of the diaper up into place - fastening the tapes snuggly at her hips before climbing up onto the bed and leaning back against the pillows at the head board. Pulling the submissive Kylie up onto her lap, Erica cradled her. “And I don’t need a website to tell me how to keep you happy,” Erica said, taking Kylie’s phone and tossing it down to the foot of the bed - then lifting up on the left side of her camisole and directing her Babygirl’s lips onto her left nipple. “Since you didn’t orgasm earlier when Greg and I did, you will babygasm now - before bedtime.” Erica placed the fingertips of her right hand on the front of Kylie’s diaper, beginning to slowly massage her over her hood. Keeping eye contact with her, Kylie tightened her lips around Erica’s nipple and drew her Mommy’s areola into her mouth, using her tongue to reach the perfect latch before beginning to nurse from her. Erica was still dry but knew that lactation would eventually happen. The massage was gentle to start, a slow beginning as Erica always did. But she pressed in on the front of the diaper with a bit of force, making it clear to Kylie that the gentle rolling start wouldn’t last forever. And it only took a few minutes before Kylie started to ever-so-slightly rock her diapered hips. She wasn’t yet grinding her diapered mound into Erica’s palm, but the impulse to do so was already there. Kylie would not, however, cheat the experience. It was one of the greatest comforts in being submissive. She never had to worry about setting the pace or keeping it up or making the decisions to heighten it. But instinct always got its way, sooner or later. And as the first tingles formed in her core, Kylie reached up and wrapped both her hands around Erica’s left breast, gently pulling downward and pressing in slightly to express her Mommy’s milk ducts. Kylie was also patiently waiting for the day that Erica’s milk finally let down. Placing her left hand behind Kylie’s head, Erica slid her fingers through the girl’s still slightly-dampened locks - feeling the tug at her breast and closing her eyes as that feeling went deeper into her. There was a swell of chemicals inside her and she felt a surge all throughout her body, culminating its intensity at her core. Kylie had now given in, rocking her hips more fully and grinding her diapered mound into Erica’s palm. She tightened her lips even more and nursed from her Mommy with an even greater intensity. “Oh, Sweet pea,” Erica whispered, feeling her own sweetness beginning to flood again. Beginning to draw her fingernails down Kylie’s scalp, Erica held her BabyGirl more tightly against her. The mellow draws of passion were rapidly giving way to the more ravenous ones. And before Erica started following the charms of her own pleasures again, she laid flat on her back and redirected Kylie from her fetal position, making her straddle her legs around Erica’s thigh and begin to glide up-n-down. Kylie whimpered with a high-pitch, just as she always did when she neared the zenith of her babygasm. And while she tried to continue nursing from Erica, her lips soon opened as she gasped for air to moan at the moment she skyrocketed to the summit. But Erica was ready, slipping a pacifier in her BabyGirl’s mouth right before she seized up and then collapsed into a series of gentle yet intense twitches. Erica held her there and eventually put Barry the teddy bear in Kylie’s arms as the BabyGirl’s afterglow gently subsided. Kylie fell asleep shortly thereafter. Erica fell asleep too … both with the same final thought about Greg and about life at that moment. Oh, yes. All of this was definitely the start of something very good.
  2. Take from the ABDL romance: Forever Young, here is a little story about overcoming your doubts and believing in what could be. ————— Sealing the Deal – Wednesday, 6pm Ella walked briskly down the sidewalk, ignoring the noise and the bright lights coming from the ball park two blocks away. This was not about fun and games, not for her and not tonight. She wasn’t as angry as she was last night, but she was certainly on edge – for good reason. At the end of the next block she walked into the Forever Young bar, that same watering hole establishment where all this trouble had begun for her. Opening the door and pushing past the bouncer, she marched right in – beginning to scan the faces in the room until she saw Dante sitting at the far end of the main bar. Waving the bouncer off, Dante stood up and weaved his way through the crowd of people who were there for drinking and for the bar’s dinner hour specials. Motioning Ella over to a booth at the side of the main room, he took a seat on the other side of the table. Placing his elbows on the table and folding his hands, he waited for her to start talking. But what could she say to him? What could he possibly expect to hear from her? “I have some explaining to do. I understand,” Dante said calmly, hoping to spur the beginning of the conversation out of her. And Ella tried to begin talking, but suddenly developed a tremendous degree of difficulty in doing so. Everything had just changed for her and this devilishly handsome man who dressed in all-black was at the center of all of it. Two days ago, he was a perfect stranger who had found a way to get her to open up. And she grew comfortable with him entirely too quickly. But now, looking across that booth table, she no longer knew him at all. And to an alarming degree, he was more frightening to her than anyone she may have stumbled into in a dark alley. “Okay,” Ella said, scrunching up her lips and lowering her chin for a moment to find the right words to begin with. “On Monday night, I walked into this bar and you had a conversation with me about the trouble in my irises I believed you called it. So, I foolishly told you what was wrong. I told you what it felt like to be on the doorstep of my 30th birthday and to see signs of aging that reminded me of how old I was every time I looked in the mirror … all of this while being single and beginning to believe I was meant to be alone. Do you remember having this talk with me?” “Yes, I do,” Dante replied, then sighing as he knew she was going to take her time with her explanation before eventually exploding. “Then you told me you wanted to make a deal with me,” Ella said a bit more sharply, making quotation marks in the air with her fingers. “This deal would … give me back my youthful appearance forever?” Dante nodded. “Like an idiot, I doubted you. But then you snapped your fingers and everyone in this bar froze in place,” Ella whispered, now holding back her rage as she leaned forward . “You showed me that it wasn’t some pathetic pick-up line you were using. So, I said Sure! Make me young again! I accept your offer!” “Ella, I was there,” Dante said, trying to get her to moved forward towards her point. “I remember all of this.” “I woke up yesterday and my skin was so soft and glowing that I almost cried. It was as if the time I spent baking in the sun in my 20s had never happened. My hair felt softer and I was even a bit more lifted in the chest than I had been in a long time,” Ella said, then reaching across the table and covering his mouth with her left hand to stop him from replying. “But I don’t remember the part of our conversation that included me losing control of my bladder?” Ella glared him down with anger in her eyes. “I am sitting here, wearing a pad that is so thick that it could suck up all the water in a category five hurricane and still have the ability to handle all the accidents I keep having,” Ella said, tears washing the anger out of her eyes as her voice grew shaky. “I can’t stop wetting myself. Tell me what you did to me to make all these things happen.” “I gave you eternal youthfulness,” Dante answered, lowering her hand from in front of his mouth as he reached into the breast pocket of his suit and handed her his red silk handkerchief. Ella sat back in the booth, carefully wiping the tears out of her eyes before they messed up her make-up. “Who are you, Dante?” she asked behind a sniffle. “You obviously aren’t human. You’re too cruel to be considered human.” “You’re right. I’m not human. Well … at least I didn’t used to be human,” Dante said, suddenly finding it difficult to put to words. “You do deserve to know. But it’s hard to explain and it will be even harder to believe who I am.” “Well … try explaining it to me,” Ella said with a slight huff in her voice. “I’m sitting here, wearing a flotation device in my underwear – scared to death that, at any minute, I’ll start wetting myself again. Do you have any idea how unnerving it is to wet yourself and to not know it happened until afterwards? I’m ready to believe the truth, no matter how far-fetched it may be. As a matter of fact, I’m ready to back out of this so-called deal altogether. Or is that not permissible on the alien world you come from?” “You’ve heard of fallen angels?” Dante asked, leaning back -his dark clothing drawing the attention to the dull golden glow in his irises. “Angels who fell from divine grace and were thrown out of Heaven?” “You’re a fallen angel?” she asked, raising an eyebrow and trying to control her anger once more. “So, you’re not some mutated creature from another world. You’re tell me you’re a fallen angel?” “No. I’m not a fallen angel,” Dante said, matter-of-factly. “I’m the opposite of one.” Ella paused her anger and looked him directly in the eyes. He wasn’t joking around. “The opposite of a fallen angel would be …,” she stated then pausing to think about it. “ … a demon who was kicked out of Hell?” Dante smiled, devilishly. “Satan kicked you out of Hell?” she asked, Dante nodding. “Why?” “He had to do something with me,” Dante said with a jocular tone. “I guess I just wasn’t bad enough for him.” “So, you go around Earth and try to make people feel better about themselves,” she said, trying to piece together what he was getting at. “And you do this because you failed at being one of Satan’s demons.” “That’s one way of putting it,” Dante said. “But I don’t just want to make people feel better. I want to nurture them. Females, especially, lack being nurtured. They spend their lives giving to other people and they are taken from on a daily basis. They learn to accept this and though they express how they feel, no one truly … truly listens.” “So, you believe you truly listen?” Ella asked, the corners of her mouth curling up in her own little devilish smile as she leaned forward – putting both of her elbows on the table and resting her chin on the backs of her hands. “Tell me something … when you truly listened to me the other night, what did you learn about me?” “I learned that you actually know what you want but you don’t know how to state it or how to show it,” Dante answered, then leaning forward and coming nose-to-nose with her. “There are guys out there who want the same thing that you do … just from the other end of it.” “I doubt it,” Ella stated bluntly. “And that is why you’re single,” he replied back, just as bluntly. Ella lowered her eyes at the harsh statement, only to have them lifted back up into his golden gaze. “Would you like me to show you the other half of what you want?” Dante asked. “I’ll give you a taste of it, right here and right now. And afterwards, we’ll see if you still doubt it. Deal?” “Will this show why I can’t hold my bladder anymore?” Ella asked with a scoff. “Don’t worry about that, right now. I’ll take care of that later,” Dante stated calmly. “Would you like me to show you the other half of what you want? Yes or no?” Ella raised an eyebrow. Oh my. Another deal from Dante. The first deal had her steadily moving towards incontinence, with troubled taste buds and a greater sense of insecurity than she had ever known. “Ella, I can read your thoughts,” Dante stated. “It sounds like you’ve got no direction to go but up. So, what would it hurt to try?” “Okay,” Ella said, swallowing a lump in her throat. “Show me.” Dante raised his left hand and snapped his fingers, the music going silent in the bar and everyone freezing in place. He had stopped time again, just as he had done when they first met. “Now let me see your hands,” he said, placing his palms upward on the table – Ella placing her palms on top of his as he gently wrapped his fingers around hers. “I want you to sit back and relax your body.” Ella sat back, relaxing into the cushiony booth seat and smiling. “You ready?” he asked, Ella nodding and widening her smile. “Now … inhale deeply. Then close your eyes and exhale deeply.” Ella did so, inhaling deeply – then closing her eyes and exhaling. And when she did, she suddenly found herself laying on her back in a bright room – looking up at a ceiling that was made just as bright by beautiful beams of sunshine pouring in through the windows. She had no idea where she was or how she got there, but she knew she wanted to be there … even though she didn’t know why. The bed she was laying in was so very soft, even the sheets having a softness to them that made her believe they were made from the finest Egyptian cotton in the world. It was so comfortable that she had no desire to even sit up, perhaps just stretching her limbs ever-so-slightly. Had Dante given her a new bed to sleep in? Was that what this was? Would she be able to “sleep like a baby” in this super soft bed? And for as much as this served as no explanation of the deal made or of a taste of what she wanted, she was thoroughly enjoying it. A gentle, warm breeze blew across the top of her body, Ella lifting her head slightly and seeing a man walking into this brightly-lit room. She had no idea who he was, but she felt no fear from his presence. If this was a representation of what she wanted, maybe just maybe, he was the man of her dreams … the man who could read her mind and decipher the real meaning of her emotions … the man who would know what to do. even when she did not. As he drew closer and closer to her, she began to make out details about him. He had a rugged appearance, clothing that wasn’t nearly as sharply-dressed as Dante had been. But then again, they weren’t out in public. And his relaxed appearance did the same for her, easing her nerves about what she looked like to him. But as he drew closer still, she couldn’t make out any details of his face. Squinting her eyes and focusing on his face, all she could see were the blurred traces of his facial features. But his voice, oh my, his wonderful voice just melted her. He had a clear timbre with a deep tone, the kind that made the feminine wiles within her come alive. He spoke so sweetly, so softly – never raising his tone and never looking away from her. Sitting alongside her, he set a bowl of strawberries next to her and began to feed them to her while asking her if she slept well. Ella nodded, then sinking her teeth into the sweet fruit. Oh, how she loved strawberries! How did he know? And the more he spoke, the more she was lured in by the tone in his voice. He was so calm, so inviting and so simply gentle with her. He was like an angel, sent to her directly from God Almighty – at the right moment in her life. And that last bit was the most important of all. Meeting the right person at the wrong time in one’s life was worse then never having met him at all. Reaching up, she traced the blurred features of his face – his strong jawline, his cheek bones, his forehead. She wanted so very much to be able to see him more clearly. But the details never emerged, only how he made her feel. It was just a taste of what she wanted. That was all Dante said it would be. Setting the empty bowl aside, his hands went to her waste and she felt him fumbling with her clothing. Oh my, what sensations he was putting into her … those little tingles that intensified with time. And yes indeed, she was happily counting the seconds. In her bliss, she didn’t notice what he was doing. In the blink of an eye and the batting of her eyelashes, she felt her waist being undressed – a cool rush of air now at the center of her body. But wait! Was that a diaper he just took off her? A diaper? Really? Sitting her up, he took hold of the lower hem of her baby-t and lifted it up off her frame. She sat there, completely naked and feeling more vulnerable than ever. But before she could even grasp how that truly made her feel, she was lifted up into his arms. And away they went, this man having a warmth to his body that she clung to as well as a mixture of scents that made her swoon. Scent was always a big thing for her and the cologne he was wearing along with the trace scent of detergent in his clothing was intoxicating. He carried her downstairs and through every room, the rustic house having a very home-like quality to it. Then he carried her back upstairs and into the bathroom where she saw a drawn bath that awaited her. Still holding her firmly, he knelt down alongside the tub and ever-so-slowly lowered her into the bath water. When her bottom touched the warm water, she gasped – her body going limp in the process. But he still held her firmly, incrementally lowering her into the water and allowing her time to adjust to it. It was like a warm blanket was being put around her, swaddling her and giving her a sense of safety. Leaning her back and easing her into a reclined position, he stroked her hair out of her face, his hand being just wet enough to pet back the fallen locks and to keep them from dangling down over her eyes again. He ran his hands all over her body. His hands were so huge, giving her the naughtiest of wishes to accompany this luxurious moment. He took a wash cloth and bathed her with his hands, all the while continuing to talk to her with a softened and inviting tone. She could tell he was concentrating on keeping his absolute attention on her. The warm water, the sensations across the body, the sentiments of care and of tenderness and of love … all of it melted her from the inside. He never took his eyes off her. Though she couldn’t see his eyes, her return gaze back to him showed how much she enjoyed what was happening to her. He was dreamy and loving … and nurturing all-around. This was exactly what she was looking for. After the bath, he dried her off and wrapped her up in an enormous towel. Sitting her on his lap, her combed out her wet locks – allowing her hair to dry in the air. Whoever he was, he had gifts that didn’t come with every guy. He knew how to use a brush, how to do so in a manner that would send wonderful sensations across her scalp – some of which traveling down her spine. She was still wrapped in that towel when he carried her into his bedroom, the king-sized bed making her eyes grow big-n-wide when she saw it. Her bed, back in her apartment, was a tiny single mattress. She had never seen a mattress as big as the one he had and when he placed her in the middle of it, she felt like she would never be able to get off it. It was like she had been placed in the middle of a sea of softness. Then he unwrapped the towel from around the front of her body, Ella now being on full-display for him. And oh my, did her mind drift into fantasies just then. But the fantasies would quickly fade away into something even better … reality. He leaned over her body and began to kiss down the front of her frame. Ella placed her hands up along either side of her head, allowing her body to relax into the mattress. Oh yes. This was way better than fantasies that would only happen in her mind. His lips pecked her skin, traveling downward and making her breathe just a bit heavier as he drew closer and closer to her center. Oh, she wanted so very much to reach down and grab his hair – forcing his head down between her legs. But she resisted the impulse, opting to maintain the modesty she would shortly lose anyway. Luckily, she wouldn’t need to resist that urge for very long as the tip of his tongue passed over her clit. It was those first bits of contact that were always the most alarming for her but also always the most invigorating. His tip then traveled down to the very top of her labia as he laid flat and slipped his arms under her thighs. Contouring the length of her labia, his tongue made long circles – drawing tighter until it reached her very center. Oh, the sensations were intensifying and he sure knew how to affect her most sensitive spots. Again, the urge to grab his hair filled her thoughts – smashing his face into her sweetness and maybe even begging him to slip his fingers inside her. And the more these thoughts filled her mind, the more her entire body fidgeted. Her heart began to beat with the pace of a galloping race horse. Her breathing turned so heavily that her chest heaved up with each inhalation. She felt the swell of her softest tissues, the wetness of a slickening path and the tightness of inner muscles – her body naturally preparing itself in response to instinct. And once again, as if he was somehow connected to her mind, he knew the exact moment to pull his mouth away from her peach – right as her trip to the summit was about to begin. And with arousal peaking in both of them, he slid up the front of her body, his hand undoing his belt and unzip his pants. Then the tip of his erection met the opening of her canal, that split moment before penetration commenced. She found a way to curb her fidgety disposition, now remaining still and waiting. Shifting his hips, his tip slipped into her opening as the sweetest words whispered out of him with breathy quality to them. “That’s a good girl,” he said as his stiffness entered her, filling her canal and causing her legs to instinctively wrap around his body. This was the ultimate moment of submission, when everything she had sought after had been attained – save for the climactic ending. Continuing to shift his hips downward, he withdrew his length and then slid right back inside her – her wetness increasing by the second and making easier his penetrations. And with each pass inward, his tip grazed the ridges on the front wall of her womb, searching for one more treasure – her G-spot, that precise location in amongst those ridges that would send her to the stars and further upward. Each pass helped him to pinpoint where to aim and when her spot was found, he concentrated on it as she came undone beneath him. At points, she cried out in elation and then at other points, she couldn’t make any sound at all – being reduced to full-body trembles. But at last, she erupted, her core muscles tightening inside her as a wave of pleasure rolled out of her and washed over her entire body. She went paralyzed as she orgasmed, not for lack of ability to move but for lack of desire to move. All that mattered to her just then was prolonging the ecstasy she felt inside. And as her muscle contractions clenched around his girth, he orgasmed as well. Ballooning down from the summit, she felt his still fully-erect and rock-hard condition inside her – indication that he still wasn’t done. Turning her over on her belly, he put her wrists behind her back and entered her rosebud. A whole new journey began, one that had a much-tighter pathway, that also used pain as fuel for passion. To be entered from behind was all it took to make her physically submit completely in the hope that no resistance would ease the ache. But my, oh my, it gripped her up with a sense of submission that was not only physical but also mental and emotional – stronger than in her most vivid and satisfying dreams. He orgasmed inside her again and she began to twitch with immediate afterglow the very moment he withdrew himself from her rosebud. Laying down, he came to rest on his back – Ella turning over and nestling alongside him, now overwhelmed with love and affection for him. Her heartbeat slowed down and she fell asleep a short while later – but not before he picked up another diaper to dress her in. And that was the moment when she opened her eyes, returning her mind to the present in the Forever Young bar. Her jeans and the pad in her underwear were soaked. The room was still perfectly frozen and silent and she began to breathe heavily as it was a jolting return to reality for her. Dante held her hands until she was able to collect herself and then he helped her to her feet, leading her to a back room in the bar where she found a beautiful little black dress. He left the room and Ella finally had a moment to collect herself a bit more fully, beginning with an emotional purging so intense that she wept tears inconsolably for a short while. And once the initial purge was over, she was able to function again – stripping out of her clothing and into the little black dress. All the while, she kept thinking about the trance Dante had just put her in, about that wonderful faceless guy and how he made her feel so good in so many different ways. Straightening the dress on her body and pulling it down to an acceptable height on her thighs, she heard the music return to its usual blaring level out in the bar – signifying Dante has snapped his fingers again. Wrapping her clothing up, she picked up her purse – opting to go commando for the second time in as many days. Walking back out into the main room, she saw Dante sitting at the bar – waiting for her. “Do you doubt now?” Dante asked her as she walked up to him. “No,” Ella admitted shyly. “Then stop dreaming about the other half of what you want and pursue it,” Dante said, handing her a small paper bag. “You make it sound so easy,” she laughed, then opening the paper bag and looking inside it to see a diaper. “Seriously?” Dante stood to his feet. “This is your solution to my … leaking problem?” she asked with a laugh. “What exactly are you trying to get me to believe this time?” “Ella, you know I didn’t plant any seeds in your mind,” he said with a devilish grin as he led her out of the bar. “Now that is something that I do doubt,” she said with a laugh. “I simply gave you the ability to get past your own insecurities long enough to finally embrace what you desire most … for once in your life,” he said, Ella’s eyes growing big and wide. “You mean … everything that happened to me in that trance …,” she asked with a tone of disbelief turning opposite. “… was the creation of your own mind, your own thoughts,” he said bluntly. “I showed you the pathway you couldn’t find. You made the decisions. And it became your yellow brick road to follow.” Suddenly, Ella had quite a bit to think about. Everything that happened in that trance was her own imagination? “Call me whenever you need me,” Dante said, kissing her forehead and walking back into the Forever Young bar. Ella looked inside the brown paper bag again, turning and walking back up the sidewalk towards her car. What did all of this mean? What was it she was truly after?
  3. Taken from The ABDL MedFet Book 6, here is a little story about the power in dominance, the passion in passiveness and the patience in a patient. (Begin with Part One) Part Three A few days later Greg was healing very well. His pain was minimal and at points in time, his pain was non-existent. He was eating real food on his own and taking nurse-escorted walks around the hospital wing. His release would be tomorrow morning, if all went well that final day. Erin and Charlotte had reversed shifts. Erin was now night time and Charlotte now took the day shift. Continuing the game, Erin had taken to wearing nurse dresses and had kept herself diapered. Greg was a happy competitor in this little match and did his part in keeping everything secretive. He had also begun reaching under the back of her dress and patting her diapered bottom whenever the angle was right to prevent the cameras from catching him. And their flirting had only gotten more intense. Erin had taken to calling him Daddy whenever she could and he had taken to calling her his BabyGirl. The dynamic was in full-bloom and she couldn’t have felt more alive, if she had tried. Charlotte, on the other hand, didn’t wear any more diapers than that once when she gave him the blow job. But she kept him under her thumb, speaking to him more like a mistress than a mother. It was a strange change for him from the one shift to the next, a change that wasn’t natural for him. But when Erin was there, he became aggressive and when Charlotte was there, he did his best to be submissive. The only unfortunate thing that took place was how he had regretfully made good on what he promised would happen. When the IVs came out of his arm, he was fine for about two hours. Then he would spend the next 24 hours throwing up, again and again and again. Charlotte and Erin just kept cleaning it up. By his suggestion, they kept him stocked with warm, flat Coke and sea salt & malt vinegar potato chips. Slowly, he nibbled on the chips and sipped the Coke. Though he threw all that up too, it eventually began to settle his stomach. So, on this, his final day at St. Ignatius Hospital, Charlotte decided that she wanted a way to remember him. At about 10:30 that morning, she walked into his room - intending to take him on one final nurse-escorted stroll around the hospital wing. Though these walks had outlived their purpose, this last one would become a walk to remember. “Hello again, Gregory,” Charlotte said with a very serious tone, the same one she had used ever since she gave him that hum-dinger of a blow job the other day. “Tell me how much you would like to be taken for a walk and don’t skimp on the adjectives, this time.” “Hello, Miss Webb,” Greg said, sitting up and addressing her by her last name - a change he made fairly quickly, once she turned on the mistress charms. “I would thoroughly enjoy being taken on a walk. It is my utmost pleasure and definitive reward to be given the precious time by you to be exercised with a walk.” Charlotte stood at the foot of his bed, her hands folded in front of her and her posture radiating her position of power. But she cracked a smile and then laughed at his response, easing the atmosphere. “Definitive reward?” she asked with a laugh. “Get up. Let’s go.” “I couldn’t think of anything else to say,” Greg said with a laugh as he stood up. “But I did want to ask you something.” “Oh? And what’s that?” she inquired, leading him over to the door. “Well, during these walks, I’ve seen other patients who were wearing hospital gowns that didn’t have an opening in the back that had to be tied together with strings,” Greg said, Charlotte grinning devilishly as they strolled down the hallway - taking slow strides as always. “Out of curiosity, I’m just wondering why my gown has always been the kind that opens in the back.” “Gregory, I can’t begin to tell you how many bare asses I’ve seen at this job. And most of them have been so flabby and unattractive that I all-but insisted that they get the full gowns,” Charlotte confessed. “But then there’s your ass. It’s tight and naturally lifted. And if I hadn’t kept you in the kind of gowns that were open in the back, then I would’ve deprived myself of the pleasure of seeing your ass. After all, at this stage in the game, it’s all about what makes me happy. Isn’t it?” “Yes, Miss Webb,” Greg said with a sly smile and lowered chin. “Good boy,” she replied, patting his bottom as they turned the corner to head down another hallway - the exact moment when no camera would be aligned to see her playful gesture. “Oh, how I’m going to miss having you around to tease at my leisure.” “You’re certainly passionate about it. It’s a wonder that you don’t have a collection of guys that you have wrapped around your fingers,” Greg said, trying to be kind while not getting himself in trouble. “The longer boys stick around, the more tendency they have to make women … messy on the inside,” Charlotte admitted as they strolled along. “It would take one mighty impressive boy toy to keep my interests in him. Most don’t have that kind of staying power.” “Probably not, but there’s a blaring contradiction you are overlooking,” Greg said, Charlotte tilting her head slightly and giving him a sharp look. “I mean … that you might be overlooking.” “Do tell. What is it that I might be overlooking?” she asked with a clear and precise tone of dominance. “Well, if few guys have the ability to even remotely measure up to your expectations … and if you have no desire to ever lower your expectations … isn’t it possible that you might wind up alone?” he asked with a cautious voice as they turned another corner and headed down yet another hallway. “I’m probably looking at this wrong, but it sounds like the problem isn’t finding a guy who measures up well. Maybe the real search is to find a guy who measures down far enough to always have to be looking up at you.” “Gregory, cut the adjectives now and get to the statement,” Charlotte said, not dismissing the point he was trying to make - just wanting him to shed the caution and simply say it. “Wouldn’t it make better sense to find a guy who was malleable enough for you to mold into who you wanted him to be?” Greg asked. “A project, instead of a partner. Because, if you think about it, the end result is very simply one of two things: He either becomes your boy toy or he’s gone. What greater display of submission is there beyond that?” Charlotte said nothing for a few seconds, thinking about the logical point he had made. And, coupled with the discussions she had had with Erin about the difference between being dominant and being domineering, Charlotte was wise to have paused before answering. “Then the right choice won’t be a boy who is ready-made,” she concluded. “The right choice will be a boy who understands his purpose as you do. If I have to explain it to him, he’s not the right one.” “I would also offer up the suggestion that you don’t automatically expect him to be a mind-reader,” Greg said as they turned another corner and headed back to the hallway his room was in. “Maybe just a guy who is always mindful and willing to evolve for you.” “This has been some good food for thought. And I appreciate your wisdom. Thank you for that,” Charlotte said, then leading him over to the supply closet and opening the door. “Now step inside my office. There’s something else I want to discuss with you.” Not shocked at all that the power-wielding Charlotte would take him in a supply closet, Greg walked inside without hesitation. Then Charlotte took a seat on one of the empty shelves and summoned him to walk over to her. Making him kneel in front of her, she slid her nurse’s pants down to her knees and then lifted her legs - putting his head between her thighs and pulling him towards her. “Do you normally not wear underwear to work, Miss Webb?” Greg asked as she smiled down at him and ran her fingers through his hair. “Not when I know it’s gonna get in the way, at some point,” she said with a bright but devilish smile. “I’ve heard enough good points from you for today. I don’t need to hear any more. Now start licking.” “Yes, Miss Webb,” Greg said, then leaning forward and obliging her command - Charlotte instantly realizing another one of his gifts. “Good boy,” she said quietly, crossing her ankles at his back as she got comfortable. “Boys are always such trivial creatures to me. I guess that’s why I’m so picky about the ones I use for pleasure. There’s plenty of fish in the sea but there’s also sharks, seaweed and bunch of other dangerous things. Look at me when I’m talking to you.” Greg looked up at her but kept his focus on the task at hand, or rather, the task at his mouth. “I’m not expecting the moon and stars, Gregory,” she said, pulling his gown up and looking down at his waist to see his attentive reaction. “But I am glad to see that I’m appreciated.” She then went into a repetitive cycle of smashing his face into her center, then pushing his head away slightly - over and over, the whole time keeping his mouth in contact with her labia. She seemed possessed at points, especially when she looked down at him with a frenzied, lustful craze in her irises. She moved his face to the right a bit and then to the left a bit, placing him at a specific spot and when his tongue found it, she gasped for air - grabbing the back of his head and sinking her nails into his scalp to prevent him from budging at all. “You are not gonna move one little bit. So help me, if you do, I will make your car accident feel like a toothache,” she said with hushed yet rageful tone. “I know you’re not a boy toy and I forgive you for not being one. But there is someone who is not only looking for the very essence of what you are … she is also the very thing you need in your life. And if you upset her tonight, I promise you that you’ll never be the same after I get my hands on you.” And with that, Charlotte seized up, wrapping her arms around his head and leaning forward as she wrapped the lower halves of her legs tightly against his shoulder blades. Oh, what a glorious orgasm. She held him there for a few minutes before releasing him, then taking a few more seconds to put herself back together and find her composure before leading him out of the closet and back to his room. “You won’t find your boy toy, Charlotte,” Greg said, returning to using her first name as she helped him down onto his bed. “He’ll find you and when he does, you’ll know instantly that he was the right fish.” “How can you be so certain, Mr. Townsend?” Charlotte asked, returning to using his last name as she covered him with a blanket. “Because unlike a lot of people, you actually know who you are looking for,” Greg said, then closing his eyes and resting. --------------- At 3am, Erin quietly crept into room 77, stepping up on a chair and reaching up to pull the power cord of the camera out just enough to switch it off. It would be a little while before this disconnection was detected by the system, part of the reason why the nurses were asked to run debugging reboots on the surveillance cameras every couple of days. It was a big hospital with a bunch of minor problems. But on this night, the camera issues would work in her favor. With a sizeable-yet-specific window of opportunity to work with, Erin crept over to his bedside and drew the privacy curtain closed ever-so-quietly as to not wake him up. Then she took her nurses dress off, stripping down to her bra and her diaper before lifting up the blanket and crawling in bed beside him. Resting up against the side of his body, she listened to him breathing steadily and evenly - just happy to be that close to him. But the fates weren’t going to rob her of any memories that night she had earned the making of. Greg awoke. “Hi, Daddy!” Erin whispered excitedly. “Hi, BabyGirl,” Greg whispered, a bit groggy but waking up. “Whatcha doin’?” “Thinkin’,” Erin said with a small voice, playful to say the least about her giddiness at that moment. “Yeah. And what are you thinkin’ about?” Greg asked, watching her chicken-wing herself underneath the blanket and then hand her bra to him - Greg holding up the bra and looking at it. “You’ve been thinkin’ about your boobs?” “Noooo,” she said with a laugh. “Well, I’ve been thinkin’ about your boobs. I have to admit to it,” Greg said, Erin laughing and directing his hands onto her breasts - Erin then moving his hands down the front of her body and onto the front of her diaper. “You little angel. Did you come dressed for bedtime?” Erin nibbled on her lower lip as she then directed his left hand inside the front of her diaper, his fingers finding the swollen and wet outer lips of her labia as his palm pressed lightly against her clit. “Hmm. You really have been doin’ some thinkin’,” Greg said, Erin crawling on top of him but staying under the covers - grinding her mound into his hand. “So whatcha thinkin’ about now?” “I think I love you. No,” Erin said, then reneging the sentiment. “I don’t think I love you. I know I love you …… Do you love me?” “I love you and need you,” Greg whispered back, affection in his tone and lust in his eyes. “Show me,” she whispered aggressively but still with a soft voice, pulling up the front of his hospital gown and taking hold of his stiffened condition. “Don’t move, Daddy.” And with that, she directed his tip between her legs, pushing her diaper to the side and touching his tip to the opening of her canal. Raising her hips ever-so-slightly, she then slid down - just enough to push the full-mushroom of his head into her opening. With a smile that emanated the lust she was feeling, she clenched her canal muscles - her opening tightening around his head and holding him as she slowly slid herself downward. Incrementally, his shaft penetrated deeper and deeper inside her, Erin gasping for air several times. Oh, yes. His endowment was real, very real. It had been no mirage. She kissed him, opening her mouth and allowing him to command the French of the moment as she kept sliding down on his shaft. And when their pelvic bones met, she sat up - placing her hands on his chest to brace herself. Gliding back and forth, she took a few moments to enjoy his length and girth inside her. Oh, yes. It was an overwhelming feeling. That’s why she enjoyed it. That was how it was supposed to feel … his stiffness and her tightness. Gazing down at him, she smiled - then raising her to slide upward. His shaft slid out of her, making her shudder from the relief of fill. But the slickness of her canal spun him in circles and he gasped as well. Sliding back down around his shaft, she felt his unyielding rock-hard state …… and that was when sparks began to fly. Every little movement - upward and downward, when she rocked back and forth, when she pounced and their pelvic bones met with a thud - all of it set off little pings of electricity inside both of them. She couldn’t get enough and neither could he. Tears welled in her eyes, producing a fussy bit of behavior that only stiffened him that much more - a true reaction from a Daddy. She shuddered again and a new layer of wetness saturated her insides, making her pounces turn into easy glides. The sensations increased, growing to a fevered-pitch … and that was the moment she felt his girth thicken, an indication that he was nearing eruption. Frenzied, she began to pounce while whimpering uncontrollably. To keep her hushed, he reached up and covered her mouth with his hand. But she wouldn’t stay still. She couldn’t stay still. It was impossible. Taking his thumb in her mouth and wrapping her lips tightly around it, she sucked on it as she watched his whole body tense up. And she tried to hold out. Oh, she tried so desperately. But having deprived herself of it, of fulfilling that cliché of being a lady in waiting … it came with a price. And as she shook like a leaf, she helplessly squirted - her droplets landing on his abdomen just a moment before his seeds shot out, stinging the back wall of her womb as they landed. He sat up, his orgasm sending him to the summit. Sinking her teeth into his thumb, Erin wrapped her arms around him - orgasming as well, trying to keep the sensations growing by gently pouncing on him. And when her emotions skyrocketed, she sat down on him - still mounting him as she wrapped her legs around him. There they would remain for a few minutes. But she couldn’t spend any more time with him, not without a greater risk of being caught. Getting up and putting her clothes on, she opened the privacy curtain and checked herself in the bathroom mirror - then headed for the door. “Princess,” Greg said, Erin stopping her exit and looking back at him. “I’ll be calling you tomorrow morning.” Erin grinned shyly and walked out of room 77, then making her way back to the nurses’ station. She felt his seeds rolling out of her already, depositing into her diaper and giving her a most glorious reminder of how she hadn’t been cheated out of a memory unforgettable. But would it be the last memory with him? --------------- The following morning, Greg dressed to leave just after breakfast. A friend had brought him a set of clothing to put on. Erin and Charlotte walked into his room to say goodbye. “Well, Mr. Townsend,” Charlotte began. “We’ve just been given the official word that you have been released. You are free to go, whenever you are ready.” “I’m ready to go,” Greg said, walking over to them both. “But I don’t know as I’ll ever be ready to let go.” “Then don’t let go,” Charlotte said, shaking his hand and then walking out of the room. He then looked at Erin who was far more emotional about his departure. And without giving her another second to conjure up any reasons as to why this had to be goodbye, he embraced her. “I hate goodbyes,” Erin said with teary eyes. “Especially this one.” “So do I,” Greg said softly. “That’s why we’re not going to say goodbye … because this isn’t the end.” Erin looked up at him with wide-open eyes. “It’s only the beginning,” he said with a smile. “If you’ll have me.” She embraced him more tightly with tears now streaming down her cheeks. Greg left and Erin walked back to the nurses’ station. “Well?” Charlotte asked, Erin nodding and smiling. “Good girl.” “So how long do I wait before meeting with him again?” Erin asked, her mind too blitz to be able to think on her own. “How long will that diaper make it without being changed?” she said with a smile. “If I were you, I’d be texting with him already.” Erin smile, picking up her phone but then setting it back down. “I don’t wanna inundate him. Guys get inundated easily,” Erin said, nibbling her lower lip and smiling - then laughing. “I’ll at least let him make it to the elevator first. I don’t wanna seem obsessed, you know.”
  4. Taken from The ABDL MedFet Book 6, here is a little story about the power in dominance, the passion in passiveness and the patience in a patient. (Begin with Part One) Part Two “We can get into a lot of trouble for doing this,” Erin said nervously, she and Charlotte standing in a supply closet at the end of the hall. “I just wish it wouldn’t intrigue me so much. I don’t even know if he’s going to like it. What if he gets offended? Or what if he reports us for some sort of harassment or abuse?” “Okay. Hold on. Erin, you are going into one of your I’m gonna worry about absolutely everything until I convince myself that I should do nothing at all states of mind. We only get in trouble for this if we get caught doing it,” Charlotte said, opening the closet door and stepping out of it - then looking back at Erin. “And the only way you’re going to know if he likes it is if you try it. If he gets offended, we play the whole thing off as a joke that was intended to continue to cheer him up … especially since he has made incredible recovery progress in the past 36 hours. And finally … he can’t report us or even say anything to anyone, if he can’t speak. So, we simply take away his ability to talk.” “And how do we do that?” Erin asked with a nervous whisper, poking her head out of the closet and looking down the hallway. “Think about it, Sweetie. You’ll come up with a way to keep his mouth occupied,” Charlotte said with calmness. “Now come out of that closet and start acting like nothing is going on.” Erin shrunk up her shoulders and made small steps out of the closet. Charlotte took her by the hand and walked down to the nurses’ station. “Are you ready?” Charlotte asked, Erin nodding sheepishly. “Okay, I’m going to run the video debugging program for his room as well as several other rooms. It will kill the video feed in his room for the next 15 minutes while the uplink reboots itself. This is the program I was supposed to run this evening. Should anyone ask, I will tell them that I ran it right now - feeling it to be safer to run while both you and I were here to keep an eye on the patients together. Okay?” “……okay,” Erin whispered. Charlotte ran the program and the two of them moved swiftly down the hall, heading directly to room 77. Erin’s heart was pounding so heavily that she could hear each thump deafeningly in her eardrums. “I arranged for his breakfast to be served to him at 6:30. So, he’ll be ready for another trip to the bathroom and that will give you time to relax. The key to this whole thing working in our favor is if we show that we are in control … first, of ourselves … and then, of the situation. It’s nursing 101, baby,” Charlotte explained, Erin swallowing a lump in her throat and following Charlotte’s lead as they walked into Greg’s room - Charlotte shutting the door as they then walked over to his bed. “Hello, Greg,” Erin said with a sweet tone. “Did you sleep well?” “Like a rock,” Greg replied, sitting himself up without the bed having to be raised - a task that still required a bit of effort on his part but one that he accomplished, nevertheless. “I was just getting ready to buzz for help. You ready for our second date, Erin?” Erin smiled, laughing softly as she and Charlotte helped him up. “You’re getting more aggressive about these dates of ours,” Erin said playfully but boldly, doing her abled best to push through the fear she was feeling. “You must really wanna go.” “No pun intended,” Greg said with a laugh as they began to help him across the room and towards the bathroom. But in the middle of his strides, he stopped - lifting his head up and looking around. A bewildered look became his expression. “What’s wrong, Greg?” Charlotte asked, she and Erin having concern as this was behavior he hadn’t shown - up to that point. “Did you hear that?” he asked, being quite confused. “Did we hear what?” Erin asked him, then looking at Charlotte who glanced down at her waist and then back up to Erin. Then Erin’s eyes grew big and wide, realizing what he had heard. “I don’t know. I guess I’m losing it,” he said, shrugging it off as he continued on his way to the bathroom. Erin lowered her chin and sucked in her lips, trying not to smile and also trying not show him how she was blushing. But, oh my. What an invigorating feeling it was. She was grateful Charlotte had pushed her into trying this. Even if Greg rejected the whole idea, the memories of having tried would live inside Erin’s soul for an eternity. And Charlotte was right. All the bases were covered. The worst-case scenario would likely be that they had to play this whole thing off as a joke that had good intentions in mind. Greg would understand. So, there really was no excuse to not try. Greg got to the bathroom and rested his hands on the doorway, then pausing once more and looking around as he heard something again. “Charlotte, am I losing my mind?” Greg asked with sincerity. “No. You’re not,” Charlotte said, bluntly and with a grin - Erin all-but losing her poise as it seemed Charlotte was tempting the fates. “But remember, you’ve got all sorts of drugs inside you right now. It stands to reason that your senses might be a bit out of whack at the moment.” Greg made his way over to the toilet, taking his first unassisted steps and then sitting down with much greater ease than last night. Charlotte and Erin stood at the door and watched for a minute. He really didn’t seem to be struggling at all this time and everything happened as it was supposed to. This was a good sign as it was further confirmation that all systems inside him were working properly. Then Charlotte got a devilish grin on her face, retrieving a basin and walking over to the bathroom sink. Greg lifted his head and looked around the bathroom, but then lowered his chin again - convinced he was hearing drug-induced noises only. Oh, so little he knew just then. But in a matter of a few minutes, he would know so much more. “Is it okay if we bathe you in bed this morning, Mr. Townsend?” Charlotte asked, filling the basin with warm water and then carrying it out of the bathroom - Greg laughing. “Okay. You remember how I said that a lot of the questions patients were asked seemed crazy?” he inquired. “Yeah,” Charlotte replied, setting the basin of water on the tray table alongside his bed and then returning to the bathroom doorway. “Well, that’s another one right there,” Greg stated with a grin. “Just for a completely different reason, this time.” “I’ll take that a yes,” Charlotte said, she and Erin smiling. “Well taken,” he confirmed. Erin would tend to the toilet paper conclusion for him again and then help him to stand up. Her heartbeat was racing with a pace that nearly made her dizzy, this time. Keeping her movements small and steady, she helped him to carefully walk back over to his bed. On the bed, Charlotte had placed a thick towel. It looked quite similar to a disposable puppy pad, just in human size. Ever-so-carefully, she helped him to take a seat on the side of his bed. Charlotte drew the privacy curtain, ensuring that the rebooting video cameras wouldn’t be able to see anything. Charlotte nodded to Erin while unfastening the strings at the back of his hospital gown and stripping him of it. Then Erin eased him down into a laying position - keeping eye contact with him as Charlotte took a moment to eye up his endowment. Erin wasn’t joking about his healthiness - in that regard. “Now just relax yourself,” Charlotte said, placing her hand on his chest and sliding it down to his stomach as Erin dipped two wash cloths in the basin of warm water. “You may feel a bit embarrassed about being naked in front of us, but I assure you, we’re quite happy with what we see. And we’d like to return the favor.” And with that, Charlotte and Erin lowered their nurse pants, revealing the disposable diapers they had dressed in. Greg’s eyes grew big and wide, this time. And for once, he didn’t know what to say. Charlotte began washing his legs, starting at his feet and working her way up. Erin washed his arms, beginning at his hands and working her way up. Greg didn’t resist at all. What guy in his right mind would resist this treatment? Even if he was dreaming, it would make no sense to do anything that might startle him awake. The warm wash cloths left a clean sensation on his body as they went along. Erin began to gently wash his face as Charlotte worked her way up to his thighs. And for the first time since he awoke in that hospital a day and a half ago, the pain he was feeling took a second place to something else … to something pleasurable. Beyond grateful, tears welled in his eyes - something he rarely ever did. “You did a much better job walking to the bathroom this morning than last night. And I’m very happy to see that progress, Mr. Townsend,” Erin said with an all-business-like tone as she worked her wash cloth down his neck and onto his sternum. “Patients who remain in bed too long without exercising their muscles can experience a level of muscular atrophy. But your progress is ahead of schedule. So, we want to help you get to your feet as soon as safely possible.” Erin washed down his chest and his stomach, coyly ignoring his stares down at her diapered center. Charlotte worked her way up his thighs. Both were taking their time as they drew closer to the climax he couldn’t have seen coming - not even in his wildest dreams. “Before we get you up to begin to take strolls around this wing of the hospital, we need to make certain that your muscles are properly …… stimulated,” Erin said, keeping her tone and her words in a professional manner as she knew the cameras had rebooted by then. And with active cameras, the ability to record audio had returned. But with a drawn privacy curtain, audio was all that mattered. “So, this afternoon, we will begin helping you to perform minor exercises in your bed,” Erin said, keeping up the business tone as she and Charlotte worked their wash cloths towards his center. Charlotte took her wash cloth to his balls and Erin took hers to his shaft. Greg went cross-eyed for a moment and then closed his eyes. Now this was the kind of sensation that would eliminate all pain without hardly trying. But he hadn’t felt anything yet. Dipping her wash cloth in the basin again, Erin turned to face him as Charlotte set her wash cloth on the tray table and placed her right hand on his stomach - gripping his stiffened shaft with her left hand. “Now, we don’t ever want you to over-exert yourself with these exercises. People get eager to do well and overdo it when they first try,” Erin said, lifting her nurse smock up and pulling her right breast put of her bra as Charlotte pressed in slightly on his stomach while then bending over and sliding his stiffened condition into her mouth. Greg opened his eyes and sat straight up in reaction to the beginnings of the blow job. His ability to sit up was aided by Charlotte keeping pressure on his stomach muscles. When he sat up, he opened his mouth to exclaim - only to have his ability to speak cut off as Erin grabbed the back of his head and rose up on her knees slightly to smash her right breast into his face and into his mouth. Charlotte wasted no time, tightening her lips around his shaft and swirling saliva around his girth as she bobbed her head up and down. Greg looked up at Erin, taking in the scent from her chest while also absorbing the meaning behind the contented smile on her face and that twinkle in her irises. In playful response, he gently sunk his teeth into her areola - ever-so-slightly. “Very good, Mr. Townsend,” Erin said with her continued business-like tone as she took her wash cloth to his back. Charlotte was making quick work out of the task at hand, or rather, the task in mouth. Greg wrapped his right arm around Erin, his left hand wandering down to her diapered bottom. Closing his eyes, he tightened his groin muscles as much as possible. And then he softly grunted, Erin smashing his entire face into her breast as he erupted - gushing with a stream that had some impressive propulsion to it. And every bullet was preceded with that wonderful feeling at his base before it shot up the shaft to eject into her mouth. But Charlotte never flinched, swallowing every last seed as Erin leaned forward and returned him to a laying position. “Thank you for being so kind about allowing us to bathe you,” Erin said, her continued business-like tone still being all that was getting recorded as she tossed her wash cloth into the basin and stood up. Taking her washcloth to his stiffness one more time, Charlotte then put her wash cloth in the basin as Erin picked up his hospital gown and draped it over him. Then she pulled her nursing smock back down while pulling her nurse’s pants back up. Charlotte pulled her pants back up as well and then opened the privacy curtain, the cameras having indeed turned back on - but nothing of interest having been recorded. “Now, right after the exercises, you’ll want to get some sleep as your muscles will be aching for a little time to recover peacefully,” Erin said as Charlotte took the basin to the bathroom - along with the wash cloths. “Don’t be embarrassed by how minor exercises can so easily exhaust you. Given all you’ve been through, it’s understandable.” Greg smiled slyly and closed his eyes, the killer bee effect doing more to make him sleepy than anything else. There was always a time of recovery for any guy right after an orgasm. It was why the joke that all guys fall asleep right afterwards came to be. “I will see you this evening, Mr. Townsend,” Charlotte said to him. “And I’ll be back in two hours to check on you,” Erin whispered to him very quietly. “I hope you enjoyed this as much as I did.” And with that, Charlotte and Erin left his room. “Okay, now the rest is up to you,” Charlotte said as they returned to the nurses’ station and she gathered up her things to leave. “So that’s it for you?” Erin asked, quite surprised that Charlotte was handing him over to her so easily. “Oh, I’ll still have my fun with him,” Charlotte said with a devilish grin. “But I won’t be crinkling as I do it.” Erin grinned widely. “Have a good day, Sweetie,” Charlotte said, heading out. “I’ll see you at 7pm.” Continue on to Part Three
  5. Taken from The ABDL MedFet Book 6, here is a little story about the power in dominance, the passion in passiveness and the patience in a patient. Part One “Hiya, Erin!” Charlotte said, putting her purse down in the nurses’ station, having arrived a bit early for her night shift - this to the surprise of her daytime counterpart, Erin. “You’re a bit early. Aren’t you?” Erin said with a smile, finishing her last bit of paperwork for the day and filing it away. “Well, yeah,” Charlotte admitted, sitting next to her. “But I wanted to hear about this hunky new guy in room 77 you were texting me about. Greg, I think you said his name was?” “Greg Townsend,” Erin confirmed, getting out his paperwork to show her. “28, white male, 5’10”, 180 lbs. He was admitted about an hour ago, brought straight from a car accident. Injuries include: bruised ribs and possibly torn stomach muscles … and yes, he’s a hunk.” Charlotte smiled, knowing how easily Erin would go weak in the knees for some of the more handsome patients left in her care. For the next week at least, Charlotte and Erin were going to be seeing very little of each other. They were also going to be seeing very little free time as they would be working 12 hours shifts each day. Normally, a third nurse split the job three ways for them. But that nurse was on vacation and with several other nurses in the wing being pulled away for quarterly training seminars that were taking place that week, Charlotte, Erin and all the others who were still there were going to be there quite a bit - the hospital saving on labor costs by not scheduling extra help for the 7th floor of St. Ignatius Hospital. Presently, Erin was covering 7am to 7pm and Charlotte was taking the other half through the night. But they would switch in a few days to allow for a little bit of human life to be shared between the two of them. Charlotte picked up Greg’s incoming paperwork and read, with wide eyes, about the accident he had survived. “Patient was struck by a female driver who was driving well above the speed limit. Patient had no time to react and when she hit his front bumper, his car went up in the air and landed on its side. His seatbelt kept him strapped to his seat, but it wretched him all over the place. And this was how his ribs became bruise as well as how his stomach muscles may have become possibly torn. Degree of the diastasis of the recti muscles to be determined.” “How did he survive this crash? His HPI reads like a horror movie,” Charlotte exclaimed, continuing to read the detailed a gruesome account. “And is the other driver alright?” “It’s a miracle he’s alive,” Erin said with sincerity. “The other driver is in much worse shape, but she was admitted to the ER at the same time he was brought in. I haven’t heard about her condition since. But I was told she was on her cell phone when the crash happened.” Charlotte scoffed. Oh, did she loathe things like that - accidents caused by the preventable carelessness of others. As a no-nonsense kind of person, she was thusly a no-nonsense kind of nurse. But it was Erin who kept her grounded to remember the human element in their work. Erin, on the other hand, was the overly-caring type. She was also a bit of a worrier. But she had learned from Charlotte to double-check herself while not second-guessing herself. Together, they balanced each other out, making a more complete pairing. Charlotte kept a close eye on Greg that first night, as she would have done for any newly-admitted patient. But despite his vital checks every hour, it wasn’t until the 4am check that he finally stirred awake. “Hello?” Greg said with a groggy voice, the lights in room 77 being kept very dim and only showing Charlotte as a silhouette until she walked up to his bedside. “I assume I’m not dead.” “You would assume correctly,” Charlotte said, Greg seeing her last name on her name tag. “Webb?” he asked, still quite groggy - Charlotte checking all three bags of IV fluid that were hooked up to quickly be changed out for him … an indication that his injuries, and therefore his pain, was severe. “I don’t suppose your first name is …” “…It is,” Charlotte said with a knowing grin, having been asked that same question more times than she could recall. “Charlotte.” “Charlotte Webb,” Greg said with a groggy smile. “My mother named me after the character,” she admitted, recording information on the laptop on her rolling cart. “Well, don’t feel too bad. My father named me after his favorite football player,” Greg said, grimacing a little. “I don’t suppose you could crank up the pain killers.” “Not without permission. But doctors will be in to see you in the morning,” Charlotte answered. “On a scale of 1 to 10, where 10 is extreme and 1 is mild or non-existent, what is your current pain?” “I’ve always thought some of the questions asked of hospital patients were ludicrous. That one right there is my favorite,” Greg said with a slight laugh, then cutting himself off from all further laughter as it only worsened the pain he was feeling. “Put down … 7. But you can write the word excruciating right after that.” “Most people just tell me 10,” Charlotte said, recording his answer. “Most people embellish. They will say whatever they think will get them more drugs,” he replied. “The real pain is mental, not physical.” “What do you mean?” Charlotte asked, his first impression showing him to be more than just a hunky-looking guy. “Well, tomorrow morning, doctors will come in here and tell me that I need to rest up while I am hospitalized and then they put all sorts of sleeping medication in me. And I will, in fact, go to sleep,” Greg said. “But then I will constantly be woken up for a list of various reasons, though I’m supposed to be resting.” Charlotte smiled, laughing at his response. How true it was. “How long have I been here?” he asked. “8 hours,” Charlotte said, still smiling at him. “It’s about 4am.” There certainly was a little something more to him than his handsome jaw line and strong build. Rarely did Charlotte ever take to her patients, but Greg was different. She just wasn’t sure how yet. “The girl who ran into me … is she okay?” he asked, a genuine sense of worry in his voice. He obviously knew how bad the accident had been. “She was admitted to the ER the same time you were brought here,” Charlotte answered honestly. “I don’t know anything more about her.” Greg closed his eyes, a bit of concern coming over him. “How long have I had this IV in my arm?” he asked, seeing his right forearm connected to the bags hanging behind him. “9 hours,” Charlotte replied, finishing her current check on him. “IV was first started for you when you were placed in the ambulance to be brought here.” “Before you leave, I’ve got to tell you something,” he said, stopping Charlotte in her tracks as she turned back to listen to him. “I have a weak stomach. I’m serious about that. I’m not joking about … whatever damage my stomach has at the moment. When this IV is taken out of my arm, I will begin to throw up repeatedly.” “Okay,” Charlotte said, not seeing his statement as being alarming. “I apologize in advance if it’s you who has to clean up after me,” he said with honesty. “It’s not gonna be fun for either of us.” “That’s my job. Now, get some rest,” she said, rolling her cart over to the door but then turning back one more time to say something to him. “I’ll be back in two hours to wake you up again.” Greg smiled, then quickly fell asleep. --------------- The next morning at 7:15am, Erin rushed in for her shift. “I’m sorry I’m late,” Erin apologized, setting her stuff down in the nurses’ station. “Traffic was a nightmare.” “It’s alright. Catch your breath, Sweetie,” Charlotte said, taking a seat next to her. “You were right about our hunky boy in room 77. I can tell already that his physical movements will be scarce for a while. But he has a sense of humor about the situation. Here, come with me for a minute. I want to show you something about him.” They walked down the hallway to his room, cracking the door open and peeking in at him. “He has been laying in the exact same position all night, flat on his back with his arms at his side,” Charlotte said. “Most patients do that, but he is doing it naturally. This position of sleep can lead to back pain, but he is smart enough to know, even when sleeping, that a crick in the back is nothing compared to what else he’s dealing with right now.” “Right,” Erin said, not understanding the point she was getting at. “Flat on the back is known as the soldier position,” Charlotte said, leading Erin back to the nurses’ station. “People who regularly sleep in that position have high expectations but also tend to instinctively protect. That’s why it’s call the soldier position. A soldier would sleep like that so he could get up quickly for battle or whatever, if needed.” Erin still wasn’t sure what point Charlotte was making, but throughout the day shift, she would learn a lot about Greg. And her softer nature would begin to rise to her surfaces, like always. But she would wait until he awoke that morning before bothering him again. Sure enough, he would stir as soon as the sun rose high enough to shine in through the Venetian blinds of room 77. “Good morning, Mr. Townsend. My name is Erin,” Erin said, rolling her cart into his room for an 8am check. Greg looked at her name tag, then smiled. “Your name is Erin Runner,” Greg said, the timbre in his voice almost making her knees wobble. “So, there’s Charlotte Webb at night and Erin Runner during the day.” “For now, at least. She and I will switch shifts in a few days,” Erin said, checking the drip bags and beginning to record the information. “Before you ask, just right down my pain as a 6 … with a side note of slowly getting better,” Greg said, trying to sit up but thinking better of the position shift when he felt pain from the movement. “Oh, no. Not yet,” Erin said, easing him back into a laying position. “Soon enough, though.” “I hear there are doctors coming to visit me some time this morning?” he asked, returning to his relax on the mattress. “Yes. They should be here by now. But they’re not always punctual,” Erin stated, then cryptically interrogating him. “Charlotte told me to look into the condition of the lady who hit you. Though, I can’t give you any details, I can tell you that she made it. She’s alive.” Greg sighed softly, closing his eyes - as if a sense of relief had overtaken him. Getting a bit bolder, she walked up alongside him. “Is there anyone you’d like me contact for you? Perhaps parents or relatives … or a girlfriend?” Erin asked with a sweet tone. “Well, you’re gonna have some trouble, there,” he replied with a smile. “Both of my parents passed away. My brother lives in New Mexico. And, if I have a girlfriend, it’s news to me.” Erin shared a smile with him, then going back to her paperwork at the rolling cart. “You have a very pleasant way about you, Erin Runner,” Greg said with a deep timbre that made her shudder and then smile back at him sweetly with raised shoulders of shyness. “Not everybody finds value in simply being nice. That’s a quality I hope you never lose.” “Greg Townsend?” a doctor said, walking into his room. “That would be me … or what’s left of me,” Greg said with a jocular tone, the doctor smiling and shaking hands with him. “As it turns out, you’ll be happy to know there’s more left of you than what we believed when you were admitted last night,” the doctor said. “We no longer believe you to have any muscular diastasis.” “And once I get my hands on a medical dictionary for translation, I’m sure that’s gonna mean a whole lot more to me than at the moment,” Greg said, the doctor laughing at the response. “You have no torn muscles anywhere,” the doctor restated, putting it into layman’s terms. “But you are more than likely in a great deal of pain. Essentially, you have internal bruising. And we are going to monitor you for a few days to make sure that everything inside you is working properly. I’d really like to see you up and walking around in a day’s time. That may not be possible, but here’s some incentive: until you can stand up and walk, you will be peeing in a bottle and relieving yourself in a bed pan. And you’ll return to solid food at dinner today.” “Well, Doc. You have given me all the incentive you’ll need to,” Greg said with a small laugh - anything more being too painful. “My time and my healing are for sale, but my dignity is not. I will be up on my feet before this day is over.” “That’s what I like to hear,” the doctor replied. Erin stood there, listening to Greg and that doctor speak - then feeling sympathy for Greg as the doctor had him sit up. She could tell by the look on his face that he was in tremendous pain. Then she thought about how concerned he was for the well-being of the cellphone-using lady who slammed into him and almost killed him. Charlotte was right about him. There was more than met the eye and it truly shocked Erin that he didn’t have a girlfriend. How was that even possible? He seemed like such a great guy, of what she knew of him. For this reason, she exercised caution in pursuing her curiosities about him. But seeing the doctor pushing in on Greg’s stomach and testing Greg’s limits of pain, Erin grew a soft spot in her heart for him. So, by the time the doctor stopped torturing him and left the room, she was already in a mode of I’m gonna take good care of you now. And with her added traits of worry, she slipped right into the same groove as always, wanting nothing but to make him become pain-free. Before easing Greg back down onto the mattress, Erin massaged the center point on his right shoulder blade while placing a cool right hand on his abdomen. Reaching under his hospital gown to touch his abdomen, she caught a glorious quick view of his endowment. And Wow! was all she could think of it. Trying to show no reaction to what she caught a glimpse of, Erin finally eased him down on the mattress. Then she massaged the very middle of his right foot, at a specific point which lessened the pain in his stomach area and his diaphragm. She wandered if it would be rude of her to tell him that she was also single and available but thought better of saying anything. “Breathe,” she said very quietly - almost in a whisper. “I am,” Greg said softly. Shyly, she smiled - a bit too embarrassed to reveal she was telling herself to breathe, not him. And she was even more too embarrassed to say why she was flustered to the point of needing to remind herself to breathe. His endowment! Oh, my. It would be a momentary vision that would remain in her mind’s eye for quite some time to come. And the massages worked, his pain lessening to a tolerable degree. Greg closed his eyes and fell asleep fairly quickly. But she would remain there by his side for a short while longer, studying the expressions on his face and wondering if he was dreaming. Doing her rounds, she finally had to admit to herself that she was smitten over him. Unlike so many of the other patients who were understandably miserable, Greg was not - though he had just as much right to be. Aside from the fact that he was a good-looking guy who obviously found importance in his appearance, when not in a hospital bed, he also seemed to have a positive-outlook on a negative situation. His heart was in a good place and his head was in a good place, despite where he was and why he was there. There were no red flags she could see. Greg went in and out of sleep all that afternoon. Erin kept checking on him constantly. When not checking on him or the other patients, she busied herself with text message after text message to Charlotte who was probably sleeping - telling her about how intriguing he was and also how well hung he was. By the time the dinner hour arrived, Greg was ready for some sort of sustenance and Erin was ready to dig a bit deeper into who he was - readying herself to open up to him - should all red flags remain at bay. “Be honest with me, Erin,” Greg said, leaning the bed upward to cheat so he wouldn’t have to hold himself up while eating. “Does that doctor really consider broth and Jello to be solid food?” Erin laughed aloud while tucking a napkin into the front of his hospital gown collar. His outlook certainly was a refreshing one for her to hear. He wasn’t really complaining like the other patients - instead, making light of that which needed it. “You’re completely overlooking the fact that he also thinks it’s actual food!” Erin added, sliding his dinner table over the bed and inadvertently trapping his arms underneath it. “Well, now it feels like a torturous tool used in interrogations,” Greg said with a monotone quality in his voice that broke Erin into hysterical laughter. In all honesty, Greg was happy to be able to put anything in his stomach, no matter how unappetizing the food may have seemed. “Where were you on the night of …?” Greg asked with a mocking interrogation tone until Erin cut him off by slipping a spoonful of broth into his mouth and holding the spoon there as he swallowed. “Oh, I’ve got better questions than that when I interrogate someone,” Erin said with a devilish grin and a playful tone, thoroughly enjoying the rapport they were building with each other. “Okay,” Greg, opening his mouth wide for the next spoonful. “How do you not have a girlfriend?” Erin asked, putting another spoonful of broth in his mouth and then using the tip of the spoon to scoop up the minor dribble on his lower lip - then feeding that to him as well. “And I want a real answer or I’ll break out the rice pudding next.” “I have no idea,” he responded after swallowing, his tone showing his honesty. “I guess I just haven’t met the right one yet.” “Have you ever been married?” Erin asked, feeding him another spoonful of broth, then switching over to the Jello. “Nope. Engaged, yes. But never married,” he admitted. “And why didn’t you get married?” she inquired, dipping the spoon into the red Jello and feeding him the first heaping spoonful of it. “Because engagement showed us exactly what engagement was supposed to show us,” he answered honestly again. “And what’s that?” she asked, really getting into this conversation. “That we weren’t meant to be married to each other,” he answered, trying not to laugh as laughter would have been painful for him just then. “How did you get into nursing?” Erin played very coy, returning to feeding him the broth and taking her time in deciding if she was going to tell him anything about herself. But the more intriguing thought in her mind was about what would be fun to actually tell him. She could be cryptic. She was in control and she could clearly see why Charlotte always leaned in the direction of dominating men. There was very satisfying fun in it. But Charlotte’s problem had always been about respecting boundaries. And she would quickly go from appearing as dominant to becoming domineering. Erin had no intention of disregarding her submissive nature. Instead, she would attempt a bit of topping from the bottom. But Greg’s reaction to this was her current primary concern. “I’ve always liked reading books about women who changed the world in some way and left a mark in their fields of work, like Florence Nightingale,” she said with a lowered tone, saucy to say the least as she fed him yet another spoonful of the broth. “She was a pioneer in the nursing field in the late 19th century. Her dedication to patient care got her nicknamed The Lady with the Lamp because she made rounds at night …… and this had never been done before.” Greg swallowed the broth and immediately received another helping of it. She was certainly taking charge of the situation … and of the talk. “Her example of care would forever change the way hospitals treated patients. Most consider her to be the founder of modern nursing,” Erin continued, leaning the bowl towards her as she scooped up more of the broth and fed it to him - Greg not resisting her at all. It seemed he suddenly had a bit of intrigue in her too … or so she was being led to believe. Finishing the last few spoonfuls of broth, she returned to the red Jello, only making him eat half of it. “That’s a really wonderful role model to have,” he said with a smile and authentic tone. “And nursing is noble work.” “It can also be messy work,” Erin laughed, picking up his dinner tray. “What you ate won’t take too long to digest right through you. So, when you get the slightest indication that you need to complete the digestion, please buzz me right away. Do you feel strong enough to take the painful trip to the toilet or do you want to use a bed pan?” “I’ll take the trip to the toilet,” he said with certainty, Erin smiling at the fearful look that momentarily crossed over his irises. --------------- At 7pm, Charlotte arrived for her shift, quite promptly after having awakened and read the string of texts she had been sent. Erin went right into talking to her about Greg, explaining how he was bruised internally but not damaged otherwise. And in the interest of time, she explained he had eaten his first meal at dinner. Charlotte knew what that meant and they both prepared for his forthcoming distress call. A few minutes later, his buzzer sounded and they moved quickly to his room, Erin explaining how flirting had become a common tone with him … and how he was playful about it all. “Okay, Mr. Townsend,” Charlotte said, entering his room and raising his bed to a sitting position as Erin helped him swing his over the side of the bed. “Just remember to keep breathing. It’ll be okay.” “Do most people make it to the toilet in time when they do this?” Greg asked, pain encouraging him to lean over and panic being evident in his tone. “Just be honest with me.” “It may seem like a surprise to you at the moment, but the answer is yes. Most everyone makes it to the toilet the first time,” Charlotte said with calmness, she and Erin helping him stand to his feet. “What may seem like urgency to you is actually anything but that.” “It doesn’t seem possible,” Greg said, going dizzy from being on his feet for the first time in 24 hours. “When you get there, you’ll be amazed how nothing will happen at first,” Erin said calmly, her voice softening in an attempt to ease his nerves. “It will be when you relax that everything begins.” He clung to both of them as they guided his sliding steps in the direction of the bathroom. “Thank goodness they put the bathroom on the other end of the room,” Greg said with jocular nature, seeing how far he still had to walk and wondering why his backside hadn’t let loose yet - for how urgent the need to release felt just then. “A few more steps. That’s it,” Erin said softly, encouraging him with a nurturing tone - Greg beginning to sweat from the whole ordeal. Well, he was either sweating or had just acquired a fever. He suddenly couldn’t tell. And with a dizziness to him that just wouldn’t quit, he likely wouldn’t find out until after all operations had finished. “Okay, just take your time and sit calmly,” Charlotte said as they got to the bathroom, Greg indeed making it to the toilet and sitting - then suddenly waiting for what he expected to have been immediate. “Would you like privacy?” Erin asked quietly. “No. It’s okay,” Greg said with grimace. “There’s no performance anxiety. There’s just currently a strange pad lock on the backdoor.” Charlotte and Erin joined him in a laugh. “A lot of people start to cry and fuss when they get to the toilet the first time,” Charlotte said, chuckling a little at the thought. “I guess I should laugh about that. But I sometimes have to walk out of the room to prevent them from seeing me smiling at their dilemma.” “Well, if you think about it, it’s a grown adult who suddenly can’t act like an adult … for understandable reasons, but still … I can see why that would strike anyone as funny,” Greg said, then freezing in his sitting position on the toilet. “You wanna hear something more funny, stick around a few more seconds. Okay … here it comes.” Greg found the relief his body ached for, never once blushing with embarrassment as that would have taken too much energy to do. But with the evacuation complete, he was much more relaxed - despite the fact that it was Erin who tended to the toilet paper conclusion for him. Then he was helped to his feet, carefully guided back to his bed. “So,” Greg said with a breathy whisper, sitting down on the side of his bed and swinging his legs up onto it before leaning back and sighing - then looking at Erin. “Where do you wanna go on our second date?” Charlotte laughed a bit harder, changing out his drip bags and giving him some medication to drift him off to sleep. --------------- At 2am, as Charlotte made her rounds for patient checks, he awoke. “You’re one of the lightest sleepers I’ve ever met,” Charlotte said quietly, recording his information and walking up alongside his bed. “Well, I have a tendency to talk in my sleep. I didn’t want give away any secrets if we suddenly struck up a conversation,” Greg said with a small laugh, his condition already having shown real improvement. “So, why did you become a nurse?” “The pay,” Charlotte stated frankly, then laughing at her bluntness. “But I’m also a bit of a sadist.” “Really? Well, giving needle shots might satisfy that craving for you, I guess,” Greg said with a grin. “Nursing hardly seems like a career for sadistic purposes, though.” “Well, it depends on how you look at it. Maybe even more than sadism is how I enjoy being needed by my patients,” Charlotte said, checking his drip bags. “That certainly is different than sadism,” he replied. “More maternal, in instinct than anything.” “Not really,” Charlotte said. “In truth, there’s not a maternal bone in my body. But the control factor is quite satisfying.” “I know what you mean, there. Every relationship I’ve been in always put me in a mindset where I thoroughly enjoyed melting her senses … babying her insides, so to speak,” Greg admitted. “So you play Daddy with you girlfriends?” she asked, raising her eyebrows with surprise. “Who’s playing?” Greg said with a devilish grin. “Get some sleep, Mr. Townsend,” Charlotte said, chuckling to herself as she left his room. --------------- At 7am, Erin arrived with as much promptness as Charlotte had the evening prior. And when Charlotte updated him about her talk with Greg, Erin’s eyes grew big and wide - her heart beginning to beat faster. “I don’t suppose that what he said means what I want it to mean,” Erin stated grimly but still with excitement. “Well there’s one way to find out. And I’ll even help you, to start,” Charlotte said matter-of-factly - Erin looking at her with confusion as to what she meant. “Remember that episode of Grey’s Anatomy when the nurses decide to see who was the more hardcore nurse among them?” “Do you mean the one when they wore diapers and took no breaks?” Erin asked, not recognizing the importance of the elephant-in-the-room suggestion Charlotte was making. “Yeah. I have an idea I wanna run past you,” Charlotte said, smiling at how Erin still hadn’t pieced it together yet. “I’ll stick around to help you bathe him in bed this morning. But there’s a little more I wanna do as well. And I know you’re really gonna enjoy it.” Continue on to Part Two
  6. Taken from the dark age play compilation: Gratification: Volume Three, here is a little story about reading signs, about following instincts and doing … whatever comes to mind. ------------------------------- Whatever Comes To Mind Monday, 11:30pm Maria walked quickly through the brisk night air. Though it was late April, the night time could still dip the temperatures low. But she thought the short walk from her house to Annie Bailey’s Pub wouldn’t be so bad, despite the fact that she really wasn’t wearing very much at all. She was wrong about this. With any luck, the bartender there would give her a lift home. He always flirted with her when she stopped in and admittedly, she egged the flirting on. He was a studly guy, not a muscle-bound gorilla but definitely handsome and his voice always had the ability to make her wet. Needless to say, Maria had more than just a little crush on him. Her skimpy outfit was designed to catch his attention the very moment she walked into the pub. Keeping her arms folded tightly in front of her hardened nipples, she picked up the pace of her strides. But this only froze her legs that much more. Short skirts were fun and sexy. But they did little to keep warmth in. None of this would matter though, once she got inside the pub. And she couldn’t have gotten to that front door too soon, opening it and stepping inside. Shutting the door and standing there for a moment, she closed her eyes and basked in the warmth of the bar room. It felt like a warm bath on her chilly frame. Then, opening her eyes, she was surprised to see how dead the pub was. It was a Monday night. Wasn’t there baseball or something on TV that always brought jersey-wearing guys out? Looking over to the bar, she saw her man crush. Heath was his name and she could feel the first little tingles between legs, along with those wonderful butterflies in her tummy as she took graceful steps over towards him. He was rearranging liquor bottles on the display shelf, but he saw her approaching in the mirror on the wall. Smiling handsomely, he turned around - Maria getting to the bar and grabbing the edge of it just in time to prevent her knees from going weak and making her collapse to the floor. He had this most amazing ability to throw her off balance with a simple gaze in her direction. Taking a seat, she put her purse on the bar and smiled suggestively at him. The flirting between them would begin almost immediately, save for one question that was currently puzzling her. “Where are all the baseball fans?” she asked, crossing her legs and leaning forward to give Heath a better view of her cleavage. Maria was wearing a white, low cut top and a playful short skirt with a bit of flowy nature to it. She had worn her brunette hair down but tucked her locks behind her ears. Heath once told her that he absolutely loved long hair on a female and he wished they would never cut it beyond split-end trimmings. Her hair had been long for years and she had no intentions of cutting it short, not so long as it kept getting her such attention from him. Her make-up was designed to accentuate her eyes, putting eye liner on her top lid as well as her bottom. Heath once told her eye liner was the most make-up of all because it brought everything else together … mascara, eye shadow, brow color, the whole works. She had perfected the feminine wiles he enjoyed the most. “The baseball crowd? They went home a half hour ago,” Heath explained while making her a Sex On The Beach - a fruity but strong drink. “The game wasn’t very good tonight. So, they split a bit early.” He set her drink in front of her, having made it in a snifter glass - the shape of which always reminding Maria of a boob. Hence, she called it the boobie glass. Sipping from the little black straw in the drink, she eyed up Heath’s backside as he turned back to the liquor shelves and kept straightening the bottles. He was a good-looking guy, not too skinny like a twig but also not so heavy as to have love handles that hung out over his belt. And he wore clothing that complimented his body shape … all six feet of him. Maria only stood 5’ 5”. So, a taller guy was always attractive to her. Even with heels, she felt short around a taller guy … little even. “Maria, you always come in here and you tell me about your day, but you never tell me about you,” Heath said, turning back to face her and beginning to wash the glasses under the bar. “Why is that?” “I’m shy,” Maria said playfully, sipping a bit more of her drink. “Well, I think you should drink that straight down so I can make you another,” Heath said with a devilish grin. “Why? So you can take advantage of me tonight?” Maria asked with an equally devilish grin. “I have wanted to take you home with me for the longest time,” he admitted, being playful but also being honest. “And what would we do when we got home to your place?” Maria asked, egging on the flirtation as she then sipped from her drink. “Whatever comes to mind,” he said cryptically. “So tell me what comes to mind,” Maria said, reaching to her waist and pulling down the front of her low cut shirt just a bit more to allow a greater amount of her cleavage to be revealed. “Just so you’re aware, I’m keen to what you’re trying to do,” Heath said, raising an eyebrow at her. “And it won’t work.” “Oh, really?” Maria sassed back playfully. “Tell me what it is you think I’m trying to do and why you believe it won’t work, Bar Man.” “You have safely redirected the topic of discussion away from yourself, as usual. Tell me about yourself,” Heath said, playfully jousting back as he looked down at her outfit. “… Schoolgirl.” Maria smiled knowingly, wrinkling up her lips as she had indeed been caught in a misdirect. But she had known him long enough at this point to tell him a little about who she was. She certainly wanted the guy she dreamed of sleeping with to know who she was before she found herself in the middle of his bed, staring up at the ceiling and arching her back towards a forthcoming summit. “Okay,” she said, then sipping the rest of her drink straight down and sliding the glass over to him to refill. “I am a Catholic girl who hasn’t been to church in a long time. I am a regional coordinator for The Spina Bifida Foundation. I am an only child. I blaze my own path in life and I’ve never gone home with a guy from a bar before.” “Well, there’s a first time for everything,” Heath suggested, sliding another Sex On The Beach in front of her. “Oh, don’t get me wrong, Heath,” Maria said, leaning in towards him. “I am very much in favor of wearing your clothing at breakfast.” “Now you’re talkin’,” Heath said with his deep timbre, Maria all-but shuddering at the sounds of his low tone. “I’ve always liked the bad boys and I’ve always refused to believe that bad boys were poor marriage material,” Maria said with a growing lust in her irises. “But sometimes, to get a bad boy’s attention, a girl needs to be a little naughty.” “Naughty girls get spanked,” Heath flirted, keeping his voice low. “If they get spanked, they deserved it,” Maria flirted back. “Tell me something that’s a secret about you. Something that your appearance and demeanor would never reveal.” “I am a sucker for a submissive girl,” Heath answered with no hesitation at all. “Now, you tell a secret.” “When handsome guys flirt with me, they get me wet,” Maria admitted. “I used to be embarrassed by this, but now I welcome it.” “So, you have extra panties in your purse?” he asked with a grin. “Nope. No spare panties in my purse,” Maria said, patting her purse on the bar. “Your turn. Tell another secret.” “Hmm,” he said, thinking about it for a second. “I love girls who are confident but who aren’t femi-Nazis about life.” “Do you want to get married someday?” Maria asked. “Yes. But I don’t want to have kids,” Heath answered quickly. “Why not?” Maria asked, raising an eyebrow at him. “I waited a bit too late in life for that. Becoming a father now would mean my kids would be graduating college when I’m getting ready to retire,” Heath answered with honesty, pouring himself a ginger ale and adding raspberry syrup to it. “Besides, I’m an uncle. And I’ve got plenty of interaction that way. How about you? Marriage? Kids?” “Marriage, yes. Kids, no,” Maria answered, just as quickly and confidently as he had answered. “Why not?” he asked, sipping from his drink. “I’m not able to have kids. It was the result of a car accident I was in when I was young,” Maria answered with honesty. “So, wanting to have kids would only upset me. But I still have baby fever.” “And how do you handle that?” Heath asked, detecting the subject wasn’t something that seemed to upset her and pressing forward with it. “I baby myself,” she answered with a laugh, then sipping her drink. “Yeah? Teddy bears? Hair bows? That sort of thing?” Heath asked, Maria nodding and taking down the rest of her drink. “Yep,” she answered, sliding the empty glass over to him, Heath washing it in the sink. “Nighties, pacifiers, baby clothes … diapers.” “Really?” Heath asked with wide eyes. “Yep ………. and no, I’m not wearing a diaper right now,” Maria said before he asked. “I’m wearing panties.” “Are they wet?” Heath asked with a raised eyebrow. “Soaked,” she answered with flirtatious suggestion. “That’s naughty,” he flirted back, leaning in towards. “Then I guess I need a spanking,” Maria whispered to him. “Well … I need to go back into the cooler to inventory the beer,” Heath whispered to her. “How about you come back with me? And I’ll warm your backside … provided you don’t heat up the beer for being such a hot little thing.” Maria smiled and picked up her purse, getting off the stool and walking around behind the bar. Oh, my. He was so tall. “Good girl,” he said, pointing in the direction of the back and playfully patting her bottom through the back of her short skirt. Heath led her into the cooler, picking up the reordering clipboard and handing it to her. The cooler was definitely that … cool. But it wasn’t nearly as bad as the chilliness outside. “Okay,” he said, looking at the racks of booze. “We will need to order more ….. Coors, Coors Light, Yuengling, Guinness, Boston Lager, a keg of Budweiser, a keg of Pabst’s Blue Ribbon … and also Corona and Corona Light. Did you get all those?” “Got ‘em,” Maria said, putting the pen on the clipboard and handing it back to him. “But I don’t wanna be too good of a girl right now.” “Don’t you worry, Little Miss Catholic Schoolgirl,” Heath said with a deep timbre as they walked out of the cooler and headed towards the office. “I won’t let that happen.” The manager’s office was directly behind the bar room, a tiny little closet-like space with a cluttered desk and a stone-aged desktop computer … so old that it still used a tower. Shutting the door, he locked it and then walked over to the swivel chair - taking a seat it in and looking up at her with a smile. Maria lowered her chin, shyly. “Show me why you need to be spanked,” he said, relaxing in the chair and getting ready to enjoy the show. Standing with her legs together, her shoulders shrunken and her chin kept lowered, Maria reached down to the lower hem of the front of her skirt and lifted it up - revealing the wet spot on the front of her red satin panties. The wetness was a straight vertical line down the middle with a cute little spot right at the bottom where she dripped from her perineum. Oh, did she blush the shade of her panties, mortified - not just that this hunky crush of hers was seeing what a mess she had made of herself, but also because she had welcomed all of this with flirts. “Now take your top off,” Heath said, Maria submissively taking her white top off to reveal her matching red satin bra. “You really are a hot little number, aren’t you? But hotness or not, you won’t be able to tell your panties from your bottom when I’m done with you.” That comment alone made her drip again. She never truly understood why the mere thought of having a hand taken to her bottom was such an arousing one. But it seemed superfluous to waste time trying to figure it out … time that could better be spent building up the anticipation of what was to come. Pain was evident, pleasure to follow. Heath stood up and Maria released the lower hem from her fingertips, the front of her skirt falling back down as she folded her forearms in front of her abdomen - trying to find a place to keep them out of the way. Standing behind her, he reached around and gripped her red satin cups - then pulling them down … her breasts falling out of the bra. His hands, oh, his huge hands groped her - his thumbs and pointer fingers pinching and rolling her nipples around at his fingertips. She fidgeted and fussed just the slightest bit at the pinches, but she really didn’t want him to stop doing anything. He was working on her mind as well as her body and another well-placed comment would set more in motion. “You are a naughty girl and you do need a spanking,” he said, releasing his gropes and turn her to face him - placing two fingers under her chin and raising her eyes to gaze up at him. “And if I’m spanking you, then that makes me your Daddy, doesn’t it?” “Yes …,” she said softly, looking up at him lustfully. “… Daddy.” She could feel another little tingle at her center and another little drip adding itself to the wet spot on her red satin panties. She was mesmerized by the moment, by what he was doing to her, by what he was saying to her and by his scent - a mixture of his cologne, the detergent in his clothing and his sweat from having worked. “Take my belt off,” he said with a deep timbre, Maria reaching down to his waist and fumbling with the buckle but getting it apart - sliding the belt out of his pants loops, then holding the belt and lifting it up to him. “Good girl. But you’re still naughty in my eyes. And you still need a bit of correction, don’t you?” “Yes, Daddy,” she whispered almost inaudibly as he took the leather belt from its offering on her open hands. “Now slide those wet panties down your legs and step out of them,” he said with a controlled growl, taking a step back and watching. Maria reached under her skirt and up to her waist line, bending over and pulling down the waist band of her red satin panties. Heath watched from just a step away, folding his leather belt in half and holding it on either side to then crack the belt a few times. She rolled the panties down her legs, slowly as to give him a visual sight he would enjoy. Stepping out of the panties and picking them up, she stood up straight - preparing to hand the panties to him. But the moment she stood up, he pulled her close to him - his left hand indeed taking the panties from her, but his right hand going under the front of her skirt and onto the smoothness between her legs. When she took a shower before making the brisk walk to the pub, she shaved herself to silky smoothness everywhere in the hope that his hands just might make their way down under her skirt. She had lost track of how many times in her life she had made that preparation, only to be disappointed by a lack of result. But, for some reason, she knew she would get lucky with him that night. Call it female instinct. He felt her wetness and the swell of her outer lips, his palm sliding up and down her labium with ease. Doing her best not to show too much reaction to his touch, Maria kept her eyes to the floor - tightening her lips and concentrating on keeping her breathing steady and even. She knew that her emotions and her thresholds were about to be pushed beyond their limits. So, there was no sense in exhausting herself prior. Tucking her red satin panties into his left pants pocket, Heath turned her to face towards the desk. Pushing the clutter out of the way, he then made her take a small step backwards before bending her forward at the waist. Instinctively, she put her hands out - her palms going flat as they landed on the top of the desk. Then he flipped up the back of her skirt and began tapping the insides of her thighs with the folded leather belt, Maria shuffling her feet further apart and widening her stance until he was satisfied with her position. He stepped behind her and there she remained - the room going silent, the satellite radio music in the bar room seeming louder and clearer than before. It was then she realized that no one was going to hear anything that happened back in that little office. Her heart began to pound heavily in her chest. Her breathing picked up, but still was kept by her tightened lips and conscious control. Then the sound of leather cracking rang in her ear drums, over and over and over again as Heath cracked the belt in his hands. With a widened stance, she had trouble locking her knees and this would likely be the case throughout everything that was about to happen to her. He had smartly taken away one of her defenses. “I think ten smacks will be adequate for this offense of wet panties, don’t you?” Heath asked, cracking his leather belt again. “Yes, Daddy,” Maria said softly, swallowing a lump in her throat while trying to keep the heavily-pounding heart in her chest from rushing too much blood into her head and making her dizzy. “So, you will count every one of these and then you’ll thank me for it,” Heath said, stepping to her left and placing his left hand on her lower lumbar to hold the back of her skirt up and out of the way. “Yes, Daddy,” she said with a shakier and more whispered tone than before as she braced herself for the forthcoming first strike. CRACK! The leather belt connected with her bottom, squarely across both bottom cheeks - the reverberation in that little office being quick but still loud as the sound echoed everywhere. It was postceded by the same preceding swish of air his arm made when swinging. But the first strike really didn’t hurt very much, though it was delivered with a lot of muscle strength. It jolted her and she clenched her bottom cheeks for a moment, feeling more shock from it than anything else. “One,” she said softly. “Thank you, Daddy.” CRACK!! The second strike landed, the belt having audibly sliced through the air and landed across bottom cheeks again. But this time, they landed on the lower half of her cheeks. She seized up for a moment, closing her lips tightly to prevent from squealing as this second offering was twice as powerful as the first. It left a slight sting on her skin and added in with the growing discomfort from the first strike, she began processing a lot of sensations simultaneously. “Two. Thank you, Daddy,” she said, dealing with the sudden distraction of being a switchboard for nerve-endings. CRACK!!! A third strike landed across her bottom cheeks, but this time, across the top. He was making an American flag out of her backside. The sounds echoed in the room as did her gasp for air from the sting. There were no new areas left for him to strike and she knew that the next time that belt sliced through the air, it would deliver the first offering that would travel inward. Her skin had been affected, but now the meat underneath was the focal target. “Three,” she said, staring down at the cluttered desk and breathing a bit more heavily as her mind had already decided that this spanking was about to go up to a whole new level of discomfort. CRACK!!!! Strike four landed squarely across the center of her cheeks, his wrist turning as he connected - then pulling the belt back quickly and allowing the sting to indeed travel inward. This produced her first whimper as she closed her eyes and did all she could to mentally displace the pain … to little avail. She hated the fact that she was right, for as much as she loved it at the same time - a bit of opposite confusion added into the present mix. “Four,” she said with a shaky tone, then pausing to collect herself before finishing the statement. “Thank you, Daddy.” CRACK!!!!! The belt landed across the center of her bottom cheeks again, Maria seizing up again and rising up on her curled toes as she fought the pain and a sting that seemed to not want to lessen. It felt like she was stuck in that single moment when a bee sting was at its affected worst. It was a seemingly never-ending bite of pain. “Five. Thank you, Daddy,” she said with the first vocal signs of weeping - a weeping that would grow worse quickly. CRACK!!!!!! The belt landed across the center of her bottom cheeks yet again and she clenched her lips shut, closing her eyes and beginning to breath heavily through her nostrils. Gritting her teeth, she tried not to break down. But the pain was far too intense. And the sting had traveled so deeply into her meat that she could feel a pulsing throb from it. She wouldn’t be able to hold out through all ten, not without giving up and showing the strength of her weaknesses. “Six. Thank you, Daddy,” she said, sniffling repeatedly. CRACK, CRACK!!!!!!! Two strikes landed, one to the top half of her bottom cheeks and the other to the lower half of her bottom cheeks - the second landing quickly in succession of the first. Her entire body tensed up, but her wide stance prevented her from locking her knees. If she had been able to do that, she could have tightened her leg muscles enough to withstand the primary shocks. Tightening might have proven worse for her down the road, but it would have helped with the initial. “Seven. Eight. Thank you, Daddy,” she said, barely capable of making any sound at all at this point - other than crying like a baby. She shook all over, her mind trying to escape the overload of the moment. But with a constant influx of messages being sent from her nerve-endings, she found herself helplessly being thrusted back into the present … repeatedly with each excruciatingly painful pulse. CRACK!!!!!!!!! The belt landed again, right across that same center stripe of her bottom cheeks. She had to be welted and swollen on that stripe. There was no way she wasn’t in that condition. She was sure of it, though she couldn’t look back over her shoulder or turn around to see … at least not without serious consequence for having done so. And besides, she was too busy crying to do anything else - her tears having begun to stream down her cheeks … the ones on her face, this time. “Nine,” she verbalized through her sobs. “Thank you, Daddy.” CRACK!!!!!!!!!! The final strike landed on the lower half of her bottom. However, the pain instantly lessened within her. Though that final strike hurt, it wasn’t nearly as bad because she knew there would be no more to follow it. She had somehow survived the ten smacks for having been a naughty girl. And she had indeed won the attention of a bad boy. Though it took an extreme amount of effort on her part, she had done it. So, when Heath stood her up and turned her to face him, she knew exactly what to say. “Ten. Thank you, Daddy,” she said with breathy exhaustion. “Now you’re a good girl,’ he said, picking her up in his arms and taking a seat on the swivel chair - Maria smashing the front of her body against him to take in a nose-full of his scent but also to keep her bottom in the cool, free air. It had a wonderful numbing effect. Though there was still pain, it was nothing like what she had just felt. And the fact that he was not only willing to sit there and care for her as she pulled her emotions back together but also be the primary aid in her recovery meant more to her than anything else in the world. He wasn’t the guy who spanked her. She didn’t see him that way. Instead, he was the guy who kept her honest and kept his word and saw her punishment through - albeit a playful game. But the sentiment was no game at all, not to her … and obviously, not to him either. Her red satin panties weren’t coming out of his left pants pocket and she knew it. They now belonged to him and she was quite happy with that fact. Besides, she had made them wet. He wasn’t going to allow her to put them back on. So, she pointed to her purse on the near end of the cluttered desk. Heath picked up the purse and opened it, smiling as he saw the diaper she had rolled up and put inside it. It was only a generic disposable, not really intended to withstand any heavy use. But that really didn’t matter. Standing her back up and putting her back in the position she kept while being spanked, he unfolded the diaper and placed the back waist line of it to her lower lumbar. Pressing his center against the back of her body, he held the diaper in place as he folded the front of it up and in place - opening the tapes and fastening them loosely at her hips. She could tell that air flow would be able to pass through the diaper. This would be helpful, given that her bottom was enflamed. And without the seasoning of baby powder that would have been the same as pouring salt in a wound, there would be some comfort. But the greatest comfort would have been knowing whether or not the diaper stuck out below the back hem of her short skirt. Some insecurities would always remain. Turning her to face him, he put her breasts back inside the red satin bra and slipped her back into her low-cut white top. She took a few moments to put herself back together, fluffing and primping herself before looking in the little mirror by the office door. He picked up the clipboard of beer reorders and turned to her, wiping the tears from her face before leading her back out into the main bar room. It was so warm out there, the remnant of quite a few bodies having been in there that night. She could feel the diaper moving somewhat freely with each step she took, given how loosely he had taped it onto her. And though the sound of amplified music filled the pub, she still heard the crinkling of her diaper. Glancing back quickly, she indeed saw just a bit of it peeking out from under the back of her short skirt. Not wanting anyone to see it, she took a seat once again on the very same stool she used before. And the moment she sat down, her eyes grew big and wide as she bit into her lower lip to prevent from crying in pain. Very carefully, she stood back up and went to the end of the bar, just a few steps away. She would be fine with standing for the rest of the night because sitting wasn’t a very comfortable thing for her to do. Heath went back behind the bar, continuing to clean up. That was the moment when the owner of the bar walked over to them. “Hello, Maria,” Rick, the owner of the bar, said - walking up to her and giving her a hug. “Hi, Rick. How’s Glenn?” Maria asked cheerfully, hugging him back, but keeping him in front of her - for fear that he might catch sight of her peeking diaper. “Glenn is good. We’re both excited,” Rick answered, Heath having already made his boss’s favorite drink. “There ya go, Sir,” Heath said, setting the drink in front of him. “I see no Sir anywhere around me,” Rick joked, then picking up the drink and taking an enormous swig of it. “Ah, yes. There’s nothing like a red-headed slut going down a parched throat.” Maria started to smile and then she laughed. “It’s okay, Maria. You can say it,” Rick said with a big grin. “Glenn is a ginger, right?” Maria asked. “Yep. And he’s my slut, too,” Rick replied. “In a few short months, he will be all mine forever.” “Yeah. When is the wedding?” Heath asked. “July 15th,” Rick answered. “We haven’t sent the invitations out yet, but I want both of you to be there. I can’t imagine it will be as big as your wedding was, though.” Maria and Heath look at each other, smiling brightly. “Yeah, I kinda invited everyone I knew to our wedding,” Maria confessed, reaching out and taking Heath’s left hand to play with his wedding ring. “But I got lucky when I married this guy. I knew every day of our marriage would feel like the first day we met … only better.” “Heath, I’ll close up the bar tonight,” Rick said. “Why don’t you two head home? It looks like your little lady is quite affectionate right now. I always know what’s on Glenn’s mind when he gets that way.” “Thanks, boss,” Heath said, walking around the bar and heading out with Maria on his arm. Keeping herself smashed against his side, she crinkled with each step - her sore bottom brushing against the inner softness of her diaper. “I walked here,” she admitted, feeling quite affectionate. “It’s a chilly night, Princess,” he said, unlocking his car and opening the passenger’s side door for her to get in. “I know, but I knew that if I got here, you would warm me up,” Maria said, pecking his lips and then getting into the car. Oh, yes. Life was good. And for three years of marriage, life had been even better than that. Right from the moment they first met, they effortlessly assumed their roles of dominant and submissive. But they initially did so in a very vanilla manner. He was so open and willing to explore anything with her that she felt quite comfortable in revealing her kinky nature to him. Because of this, their lives together had become quite Neapolitan in flavor, but she didn’t add the chocolate and strawberry all at once. She never inundated him with anything. Instead, she gave him kinky things to look up and to research. Then she waited for him to start asking questions. When he did, she explained what that particular kinky thing meant to her and how it made her feel. After his curiosity peeked, he aggressively suggested they try some of these things out. And try them out they certainly did. But he never let the power go to his head and she never took his willingness for granted. This was the most important bit of their evolution together. That, and a mutual need for balance in life. There would always be such a truth as too much of a good thing. So the trick was always: how to avoid too much. “Oh! I forgot to tell you I have tomorrow off!” Maria said with excitement, Heath smiling brightly as he started the car. “And tomorrow night is my night off at the bar,” he said, devilishly raising an eyebrow. “So, we have a whole day to do …” “… whatever comes to mind,” Maria said, completing his thought. “Ya got that right, BabyGirl,” Heath said, slamming on the gas as they sped off into the night. “And that’s exactly what we’re gonna do … whatever comes to mind.”
  7. Taken from the sexually-charged ABDL Ebook: The BabySitter Crush, here is a little story about teasing. In fact, it is the greatest tease of all … for him. (Note: This ain’t no Daddy/BabyGirl story.) --------------- The Greatest Tease of All - Shutting the shower water off and stepping out of the tub, he reached for the towel and began to dry himself off, looking in the foggy bathroom mirror and still wrapping his head around everything he was thinking about. Putting the towel on the towel bar to dry, he turned back around to realize that he didn’t have any clothing to put on. Seeing the sweaty t-shirt and semi-wet diaper, he contemplated putting them back on. But instead, he wrapped the towel around his waist, intending to walk across the hallway and over into the guest bedroom. Krissy had certainly put his bag of clothing in there. He would simply apologize and excuse himself into the guest bedroom, if she saw him in the towel. Opening the bathroom door and walking out into the hallway, he turned to walk into the guest bedroom. “Joey, come here,” Krissy said from the upstairs living room. Joey turned around and saw her sitting on the living room floor, summoning him with her right pointer finger to walk over to her. And when he did walk over to her, his knees almost gave way at what he saw. “Come all the way over here, Joey,” Krissy said with sweetness in her voice, tapping a spot directly in front of her on the living rug room. Joe took slow steps towards her, his heart pounding so heavily that it made him a bit dizzy from the rush of blood suddenly coursing throughout his body. And though she had pushed the coffee table back to get it out of the way, his eyes remained locked on what he saw sitting on that coffee table … several items, to be exact about it. “It’s okay, Joey. Just be a good boy and listen to K’issy,” she said with a sweet whisper, not wanting any sounds to be too loud as she set the mood for him. “That’s a good boy. That’s my good little Joey.” Her voice sounded so inviting that he couldn’t help but feel relaxed, like he was following a siren’s sweet song. Having made it over to her, he now stood in front of her, Krissy getting up on her knees. And though she was in the lower position, she had all the power - his mind and his very being wrapped around her pinkie finger. She knew it and so did he. And the mind game was on. “Keep being a good boy for me,” Krissy said, reaching up to his front and undoing the fold of the towel wrapped around his waist. Peeling back the towel, she sucked in her lips to hide her smile. Joe was already partially-stimulated by then. He was becoming even more so by the second and she was in the right mood to give him the greatest tease of all - one that would own him, from that point forward. “Did you wash yourself everywhere?” Krissy teased, taking the towel in her hands and reaching back between his legs - Joe nodding while locking his knees. “And did you dry yourself everywhere?” “Yes,” Joe managed to get out with a shaky voice. “Let me check,” Krissy said with an almost song-like quality to her voice as she reached up behind him and drew the towel down between his bottom cheeks, then drying his underside before moving to his front. “Hmm. You missed a few drops, Joey. But it’s okay. You did well.” Using the towel, she cupped his endowment with her hands, gently drying all of its length and accessories. Tightening the muscles in his legs, he tried to keep his balance, but was swooning for obvious reason. And when she was done drying him, he was much more engaged. “There. Much better. Now K’issy has your full attention,” she said with syrupy-thick sweetness while tapping the rug again. “Lay down.” Bending his knees slowly, he laid down on the rug - moving with an unhurried pace as to not topple down from overwhelm. It was strange that he felt confusion, perhaps even trepidation about doing this. But then again, there was a learning process in getting from the fantasies just being in his mind to the fantasies now actually happening. “It’s okay, Joey. K’issy is right here for you,” she said with whispered sweetness as she ran her left hand up and down his torso. “Everything’s going to be okay. Just relax yourself.” But how could he relax? The Empire State building would have been jealous of him, just then. And did he even want to relax? This was the fantasy he always wanted! And it was happening with K’issy! She put her right hand behind his knees and her left hand on the front of his ankles, bending his legs and lifting them up. He was putty in her fingertips. She could have twisted his legs into a pretzel and he wouldn’t have complained. Inundation had mellowed into a numbing acceptance in his mind. But there was more to come, no pun intended. “Someone did a wonderful job of painting,” Krissy said, reaching for the diaper on the coffee table and picking it up. “And someone made me very happy. K’issy isn’t every gonna forget that.” Still with his legs in the air and his arms resting limply at his sides, he saw the tears in her eyes - a deep-rooted reaction about her losses finally rising to the surfaces of her emotions. Unfolding the diaper, she smiled down at him through her those tears. Placing the diaper flat on the rug and sliding it up underneath him, she lifted his bottom ever-so-slightly. Running her left hand across both of his smooth bottom cheeks, she smiled warmly at him. And he gushed. Oh, did he gush. Years ago, a diaper change from her was to the point and for practical purposes. Now, she was taking her time with it. Now it meant something to her. And he was learning the reason why. But he couldn’t put to words what it meant to him. Luckily, he didn’t have to. Then, she reached for the little container of baby powder - sitting on the coffee table. She had raided his bag of clothing while he was in the shower, having found his travel stash of baby stuff. What else had she taken from his bag? What else was going to happen to him this week? His reaction to all of this was becoming even more obvious. But Krissy was now paying no attention to it, another bit of teasing that would keep unraveling him - softening his outer shell, but not his hormones. With his legs-n-bottom raised in the air, and while being completely naked in front of her, Joe felt more than just a little vulnerable. And he would have had it no other way. But it was when she poured a liberal amount of the baby powder into her left palm, with that sweet scent permeating the air around him, that Joe finally began to dip into regression. Though with a resemblance of wits about him, it was obvious his mind was beginning to slowly spin inside his head. And Krissy nurtured this forward. “Good boy,” she said with a super-breathy whisper as her left palm touched his bottom cheeks, caressing the powder across evenly. “What a good little boy you’re being for me, Joey.” The sweet scent, along with the silky and cool feeling of the powder as well as the sound of her maternal voice coupled together with the tingling sensation he felt all over his body, the stiffness he couldn’t avoid having and the ever-increasing mindset of regression. He was a time bomb in a great many ways, just then. Oh, her gentle, gentle hand felt so good and she was being so nice to him - so very, very nice. He closed his eyes for a few seconds, then quickly re-opening them when the dizziness became too much. He gasped from the Heavenly sensations she was placing on his bottom and then exhaled with a small bit of timbred-elation. Then his eyes rolled up in his head as he started all over again. Krissy watched his all-encompassing displays of pleasured happiness, keeping her pace very slow and getting herself into no hurry at all. She had a sense of pride and purpose in giving him such wonderful care he would let his guard down and submit to her. She would gladly do that for him, after what he had already done for her. “There ya go,” she whispered sweetly, bring his freshly-powdered bottom down into the softened nestle of the back of the diaper. It was one of his thicker diapers, the all-white kind he would wear to bed at night or if he knew he wouldn’t be able to change himself for a while. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply again, his exhale being cut off, however, by the entrance of his pacifier into his mouth. Oh, my. Krissy was good at this. She was very good indeed. Lowering his legs back to the rug and parting his thighs widely, she finally looked down between his legs, taking notice to his stimulation. “Aww,” she cooed lovingly, picking up the baby bottle and gently sprinkling powder on his front - from hip to hip. “Does someone have a little stiffy? It’s just the cutest little thing I’ve ever seen.” The sweetness of her tone, along with the meaning of her words, turned him to mush but kept his stiffness at attention. And the more rigid he became, the cuter she gushed at his endowment - speaking of it as if it was very tiny. It was an emotional drug he became addicted to. As she trailed the sprinkles of baby powder further down his front, Joe did all he could to keep from fidgeting. However, each moment was becoming so intense for him that he finally had to turn his head to the side to find a visual distraction. But the front of the sofa was boring to look at. So, he looked up at the ceiling above, nursing on his pacifier and trying not to become overwhelmed with this glorious experience, the culmination of every dream he had ever had. She trickled the baby powder closer and closer to his Eiffel tower condition. But it was like Chinese water torture, waiting for it to finally reach that one place on his body that might make him skyrocket. Until then, he would be happily swept away in a dream-like state, becoming saturated with a fantasy sudden gone real. As the trickles of powder reached his sensitive area, he tightened his center in preparation for it. The silky coolness coated his endowment and everything else. Sinking his teeth into the silicone nipple of his pacifier, he lifted his head - gazing up at Krissy with helplessness in his eyes that would have made a puppy dog jealous. His long-ago babysitter had become the present of such, again. And, once more, Joe had a crush on her - except this time, for much different reasons. “Shh, shh, shh. Shhh,” Krissy lovingly shushed him, her hands cupping everything between his legs as she caressed the powder out with her thumbs - Joe putting his head back down and closing his eyes before they rolled up into his brain. “That’s a good boy.” Oh, my. Her voice rang in his ears like the sweetest sound he had ever heard in his life. And her hands knew exactly where to touch him, how to touch him and how long to stay on his most sensitive spots - then moving to another spot before his stiffness gave way to eruption. It was the edge of ecstasy, Joe most willingly teetering on it. Watching him lose all sense of composure, Krissy picked up the container of baby powder again and clenched his rock-hard shaft while sprinkling more powder on it. He gasped so deeply that his rib cage expanded, pinning his shoulders to the rug as she caressed the powder down his length. She was a Goddess, a golden gem sent to him from the fates years ago so he could arrive at this very moment with her. It was as plain and as simply explained as that. “It’s soooo cute, Joey,” she said with sweet whispered tease, coating him with more and more powder and then placing his shaft to point upward - Joe beginning to drool from the corners of his mouth, despite the fact that he had a pacifier between his lips. “And if you keep being such a good boy, there’s no telling what this week will hold for you,” she said, drawing the front of his diaper up. He was gone, complete regressed at that point and happily lost in a state of mind he had dreamed about but had never been in before. If he hadn’t been so regressed, he might well have thrown a tantrum-leveled fit just then. Any guy would have, if in that position - aroused to new heights and then denied the gratification. But Joe? He was her captive and would abide as such with no complaints. It all felt good to him. Allowing the elastic gathers of the diaper to stretch tightly against the soft skin at the tops of his inner thighs, Krissy took one last look at his stiffness for now before waving goodbye to it. “Bye bye for now, cute little fella,” Krissy cooed as she brought the front of his diaper up and into place - Joe fighting shiny object syndrome as the intensity of the moment demanded a distraction. Though fastening the tapes tightly at his hips, she allowed a little slack to the front of his diaper - giving his endowment some room and some consideration. He never would have thought to ask for that. Sliding her forearms behind his back, she sat him up and embraced him, her weakened little boy - her putty to play with. “It’s okay, Joey,” Krissy whispered to him, rocking him back-n-forth in her arms - his face buried in her cleavage as he hugged her in return. “It’s okay to release … but just a little for now. Okay?” And that he did, his reward for having been good through the greatest tease of all. The Mommy Grats: The BabySitter Crush
  8. Taken from the ABDL Saga romance: Zeke and Lily (Book 11): Ten Years Later, here is a little story about what remains the same when everything else changes. The Things That Change. The Things That Don’t. Monday, December 25th – 7:30 p.m. Zeke walked in through the front door of their apartment and opened the front of his winter coat. Lily stepped out of it, laughing out how her husband could still be the silliest goose in the land. Locking the front door, Zeke directed her through the apartment – back the skinny hallway and into their bedroom. And without missing a beat, he lifted up the back of her dress, cupping his right palm on the underside of the back of her diaper and playfully patting her a few times. Lily all-but gushed at that moment. For as much as she believed she had him wrapped around her finger, the truth was: he controlled every emotion within her. What a beautiful bit of power for both of them to give up. The stage was set, but what this kid-free week between Christmas and New Year’s would hold was a total mystery to her. All she knew, from the onset, was that she wanted, if not needed, whatever was ahead. Their daughter would be gone until Sunday. Life as parents had certainly changed them. But the more things changed, the more they didn’t. Perhaps that was what endeared Lily to her life with Zeke more than anything else. They had faced tremendous uphill battles, scary medical situations and welcomed into the world their daughter. But they were still Zeke and Lily about everything. He was her rock, her answer to insecurity. She was his purpose in life, his passion to breathe. “I guess watching Lucy drive away with my mother got you all emotional, huh?” Zeke teased, patting her wet bottom one more time before guiding her over to the bed. Lily sucked in her lips, raising an eyebrow as she watched him walk over and into the wall closet. She took a few seconds to decide whether she wanted to playfully banter back with him or to see what he was up to currently. Lily wore diapers on a fairly regular basis, but more definitely at times when her physical condition wouldn’t allow any certainty of being accident-free. She had undergone a lot of chemotherapy in the past decade. And though her medication was keeping everything in check, her body had grown fragile. Her bladder wasn’t quite as reliable as it used to be. Now, for most people, this would have been a devastating bit of acceptance to swallow. But Lily had worn diapers for years. The only change was that now, she had to wear them. So, it really didn’t upset her. Zeke started rooting around in the back of the closet, pushing her multitude of shoes and heels out of the way as he kept digging. “Daddy, what are you looking for?” Lily asked, tilting her head to the side and smiling as she tried to figure out what his search was about. “A piece of our past,” Zeke answered cryptically from inside the closet. “But a piece of our past that will become our present again … for a limited time.” Well, what was that supposed to mean? Could he have been any vaguer? But, being a nearly 15-year veteran of his company and his wife for ten years, Lily knew that Zeke would stop at nothing until he found what he was looking for. So, she patiently waited on the bed, her wet diaper needing attention soon. She considered going into the bathroom and taking care of it herself, as was usual these days. But something told her that their usual routine wouldn’t apply this week. Fifteen years ago, Lily became diagnosed with a medical condition that had a high probability of survival but an even higher probability of recurrence. For her, it would become a permanent condition that was, most grimly viewed, a terminal condition as it would one day end her life. But with careful attention to her health, her diet and her medication, that unfortunate conclusion wouldn’t be a reality for decades to come. And so long as she had Zeke, her beloved husband and Daddy, to care for her – life would always remain very good. “Do I have time to wet myself again?” Lily asked playfully, then laughing at his reaction as he poked his head out of the closet and gave her the strangest look. “What?” “Princess, you have never asked me permission to wet yourself before,” he said, returning to the closet – Lily laying back on the bed. “Well,” she said with a laugh, looking up at the ceiling. “I’m turning over a new leaf.” “That’s my girl,” Zeke replied, still rummaging around in the closet. Then Lily closed her eyes and relaxed her muscles – smiling as she proved, once more, that she was the BabyGirl of his dreams. There was a point in time when her treatments had robbed her of so much body weight that she was only 90 lbs. when soaking wet. She was fatigued all the time, her muscle weakness so severe at points that she couldn’t walk very far. She couldn’t keep food down, had no color in her skin at all. And the scariest part was that her treatments might not have gotten her condition under control. It was just as likely, at its worst, that her treatments could kill her just as easily as the disease. Oh, yes. Zeke and Lily had been through a lot. But the treatments worked and a reliable regimen of medication now kept her health constant. This didn’t come without consequences as permanent as the disease itself. She would get fatigued often, have a very poor immune system and experience such muscle weakness that she would fall to the floor without warning. Her sensitivity to the cold made for higher heating costs in the winter, but lower cooling costs in the summer as they aerated the apartment with window fans but never turned on the air conditioning. She also had developed fertility problems from the treatments – ensuring, for the sake of her own health, that Lucy would be an only child. The pregnancy with Lucy was a risky one anyway and they didn’t want to risk tempting fate twice. Daily nap times were a necessity and her diet was watched carefully. This part actually worked out well as Zeke had the weakest stomach in the universe and could only eat simple food anyway. But Lily’s illness was never a red flag for Zeke. And the fact that she had withheld this information from him in the beginning was no indication of mistrust to come. He remained strong with her and for her. Despite the fact that her condition turned out to be permanent, she never gave up hope … not even to this very day. And that was all he ever needed to see when he looked into her irises. Hope trumped all. This was what made Zeke and Lily such a match for each other. The Daddy-n-BabyGirl dynamic was only the icing on the cake. They had seen triumphs and failures in the past 15 years of their lives together. And every step of the way, they grew stronger from it all – stronger together, for a lifetime … and for the long haul. Zeke emerged from the closet at last, dragging out what he was looking for in there. Sitting up on the bed, Lily saw what his search had been for, her eyes growing big-n-wide. Suddenly, she knew exactly what this week would be about. And with limited control of herself, she happily flooded her diaper yet again. Lily sat there on their bed, drop-jawed as she watched him set the object up against their dresser and then begin to take it apart. And she got tingles again, this time all over her body. From the tip of her head down to the soles of her feet and everywhere in between, Lily was taken over by a series of sensations that came directly from her mind. Those sensations were attached to specific thoughts that had been placed there a long time ago. And it seemed only Zeke knew how to tap into them. They only sporadically were able to embrace their Daddy-n-BabyGirl dynamic to its fullest extent. They had responsibilities in life that were mutual priorities. But when the stars aligned in such a perfect way as to allow them to return to the beginning, those seeds planted inside Lily’s mind sprouted. And her world grew very small, for how big it actually was. She would sit there and regress as she watched her Daddy re-assemble the dreams she always kept close to her heart. For as much as things had changed, they also remained the same. It was Lily’s crib. That was what Zeke had dug out of their closet and had begun setting up next to the bedroom window. “So, on Wednesday, I’ve set it up so that we can take a look at all three of those houses. They’re all in southern end … Willow Street, Lampeter and Quarryville,” Zeke said as he began to connect the head board and foot board to the under-supports of the crib, Lily’s brain spinning inside her skull as she began to dance around a little head space she once lived in completely. “You won’t mind living closer to my mother, will you? She’s live down in that neck of the woods.” What was he talking about? Lily couldn’t possibly focus in on mental matters of the adult world right now. She was too overcome with the gushing pleasures of memories becoming anew. That crib hadn’t been out of their closet in years. Seven years, to be exact. That was the point in time when they bought Lucy’s first bed and packed the crib away. It had seen some heavy use. First, it was Lily’s crib, residing in the second bedroom – made up as Lily’s nursery. Then, it resided in their bedroom, next to the window where Zeke was now setting it up again – Lily insisting that their newborn daughter not be made to sleep in the nursery until she was a few months. There was a strong maternal need Lily had to ensure that her daughter was always safe and until Lucy was three months old, she would never be further than ten feet away from her mother. Lastly, the crib was moved into the nursery, now being Lucy’s nursery. And there it would remain until Lucy was almost three years old. At that point, the nursery was turned into her bedroom and the crib was put into Zeke and Lily’s closet … … until now. She watched him put the final side railing into place and then lower it. Then he turned and walked over to her, sitting on the bed and facing her. Taking a moment to adore the dazed look in her eyes, he watched as she blinked repeatedly – happily finding no end to the current dream. Reaching under the front of dress, he cupped the underside of the front of her diaper with his right palm, knowing that when her diaper was about to erupt from the swell, even the front was drenched. Lily’s reactions were always priceless and because Zeke was a dreamer too, he hadn’t forgotten how to recognize when she had slipped into a little place inside her mind or how to nurture that very journey onward. After all, she was his BabyGirl for life. Gathering up the skirt part of her dress, he waited for Lily to snap out of the daze, then realizing that he was trying to undress her and helping out by lifting her arms up. But Lily didn’t snap out of the daze and he was more than happy to see this. So, he began to gently pull the dress up and off her frame, Lily having enough mental clarity just then to at least fold her forearms up to keep them out of the way as the dress raised up over her head. Then, he reached behind her and unfastened the strap of her bra, her endowment now free from the garment. And there she sat in nothing but her thoroughly-drenched diaper, a helpless BabyGirl who was ready to be nothing-but his BabyGirl for the next week of her life. Her lips remained partially opened, a flashback reflex to always having had a pacifier in her mouth all those years ago. “And how would you like to take a small trip to Inner Harbor this week?” Zeke asked, helping Lily get up onto her knees. “I bet you would be the most precious little BabyGirl in all of Baltimore.” Then Zeke lifted her up into his arms, Lily instinctively wrapping her limbs around him – her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. Oh, my. It felt like they were back at the very beginning again, when all that existed was the two of them and the bond they shared. Life was so simple back at the beginning. So simple indeed. “And you will be the most adorable little diaper girl in Inner Harbor,” Zeke whispered in her ear, his warm breath traveling down the side of her face and across her sternum – Lily then resting the side of her head on his shoulder. “And if you are the most adorable little diaper girl in Inner Harbor, then I will be the luckiest Daddy in the world.” Oh, he was saying all the right things and he was using that Daddy Voice that melted her to the core every blessed time he spoke with it. He carried her over to the bedroom window, Lily turning to further mush in his arms – breathing in deeply and taking in his scent. For as much as things had changed, some things remained the same. And as he rocked her back-n-forth on the journey over to the window, lightly patting her diapered bottom, Lily could tell that not only was this week going to be full-out but it was going to be a full rediscovery of the dynamic that brought them together in the first place. Lily lifted her head up off his shoulder gazing out the bedroom window while still remaining wrapped around his body, Zeke still holding her firmly in his arms. She silently recalled how they used to look out that window at the Lancaster City night line when first met. He would often hold her just as he was holding her now and they would admire the city lights, right before or right after she got diaper changed. For Zeke, he loved the night sky of the city. For Lily, it was a visual reminder of how small she truly was. “The view looks just as pretty all these years later,” Zeke whispered in her ear, then kissing her left temple. “And so do you.” Ok. If he didn’t slow down with the well-timed compliments, he was going to make her wet for a completely different reason. The tingles were practically making her wiggle in his arms. In reality, these emotions never left her. They simply went dormant because they had to. There were responsibilities that Lily had when she became a mother and these responsibilities she welcomed with open arms, blessed and eternal thankful to the Heavens that she was granted the opportunity. She knew there would be no second child in her life. So, it was her intention to spoil the living the daylights out of Lucy. And what a wonderful job she had done. All the while, Zeke was right by her side, offering up his advice only when he knew that only Lily could help their daughter with certain things. It was a father’s job to be on-call at moments like that, but not to interfere with nature. So when it came to turning Lily back into a BabyGirl, Zeke was fully-charged and ready. And Lily was ready too, doing what she had always done so very well … wait patiently. As she had grown a bit older with him, Lily had learned that patience was an incredible virtue – not just merely believing that the best would be saved for last, but living with the full understanding that Zeke’s world revolved around her. She was at the center of it all. And she always would be. That was the ultimate answer to insecurity. It wasn’t all about Lily, but it always included her. She had a place where she truly felt she belonged, a home within a home. Zeke turned and carried her over to the crib. Lily was all-but completely glassy-eyed with a mesmerizing trance of regression. However, she could still recall all the times he put her in that crib – when he laid her in it to change her, when he laid her in it for naps, when she dreamed about Mr. Woody and the other dream elves as she slept in that crib and when she awoke in that crib … seeing his dreamy, smiling face as the first thing to welcome her back to the world of the awakened. Oh, yes. That crib had such history with them that it seemed to be at the center of it all too … with Lily. Easing her down ever-so-gently onto the crib mattress, he brought her to rest on her back with such care in his hands that she could have been made of China glass and not been fearful of being broken. Zeke was no muscle-bound guy, but he had a lot of power in his body and in his hands – made more so by emotions. It was the greatest feeling in the world to know that, though he had power, he always kept it at bay when handling her (… and for that matter, when handling Lucy). Lily brought her forearms up, resting her hands limply on either side of her head on the pillow. Her knees bent without waiting for the signal to do so from her mind. Her thighs slightly parted open and she assumed the vulnerable-yet-comfortable diaper change position. Zeke reached into his shirt pocket and took out one of her white pacifiers. Where did he find that? She hadn’t seen one those in quite some time. Placing the silicone nipple of it to the very center of her lower lip, he spoke with a deep timbre – laced with the Daddy Voice. “Open,” Zeke said softly, Lily parting her lips and taking the nipple in her mouth – then softening even further into mushiness. “Now, be a good girl for Daddy.” Lily entered the absolute fullest state of regression as he reached for the tapes at her hips. Unfastening the tapes, Zeke then walked back over to the closet. Lily remained perfectly still on the crib mattress, having remembered quite clearly that when he opened her diaper tapes she was to stop wiggling and moving. Open tapes always used to mean no more wiggles allowed and she was certain they still meant that. Indeed, she did keep from fidgeting, but her heart was pounding a mile a minute and she was grateful for having been on her back – given how the rush of blood to her head had caused quite a spell of dizziness. But what on Earth was Zeke looking for in the closet now? Maybe he could wait until he changed her before going all ‘Indiana Jones’ again. Zeke picked up a small backpack and turned back around to face her. Continuing to nurse on her pacifier, Lily looked at the backpack – trying to place its purpose. But she wasn’t making the connection. Then, when he reached inside the backpack, taking out the thickest diaper she had seen in a long time, it dawned on her with sudden remembrance that that particular backpack was the very first diaper bag he ever used with her. Where had he been hiding that all these years? He set the backpack down and began to unfold the diaper. It was enormously thick and only made Lily have to fight the wiggle impulse that much more. Her little mind was all abuzz with a plethora of fantasies that had rushed back into the forefront of all her thoughts. She was starved for Daddy attention and she felt like smothering him and clinging to him – soaking in all the joy she could get her hands on. But Lily had learned a lot about Zeke in the years they had been together. And much like any guy, smothering him would only lead to inundation. That wasn’t what she wanted, not for him and not for her. The key to it all was moderation, that balanced ability to keep it a constant thing as opposed to something that was overdone. So, she remained still as Zeke drew her legs together and crossed her ankles – then lifting her legs and bottom straight up in the air. Sliding the back of that new thick diaper underneath her and matching its back waistline to the diaper falling off her, he ensured that the fits would match too. This was the technique of a seasoned pro. And for the next week, he was all hers. Lowering her legs and bottom back down to the crib mattress, he parted her thighs and then lowered the drenched front of her current diaper. It was a thick one and it certainly wasn’t a fun one, not like the diaper he was about to put on her. The cool rush of air that rushed across her center brought her to an instant fussy condition. “Shh, shh, shhh,” Zeke shushed her, but then moved quickly to keep her from getting chilled. He took a wipe to her front, tracing the diaper area perfectly. Oh, what gentle hands he had … big but gentle. He made her feel even smaller by merely touching her. Then he placed his left hand on the back of her thighs and lifted the lower half of her body slightly to be able to slide the wet diaper away. Taking another wipe to her bottom, he moved quickly to the powder – coating her backside and caressing it out evenly across her cheeks. The moment that silky powder touched her skin, she shivered – not from the coolness, but from the feel. Oh, what Heavenly bliss. There was no way Lily could give herself this feeling when standing in the bathroom and changing herself. And even when Zeke changed her discreetly, the conditions still weren’t right to be able to completely melt her in the process. But, oh my. He hadn’t forgotten a single thing. Lowering her freshly-seasoned bottom down into the thick nestle of the new diaper, Zeke watched as Lily closed her eyes – letting out a contented little feminine sigh. She was all aglow and happily drifting into littleness. And what an angel she was being for him. Parting her thighs again, he coated her front and then down between her legs, Lily trying to open her eyes but only getting her eyelids to half-mast. Her most sensitive area was now being affected with such a tender, delicate touch that Heaven itself seemed only a small step away. For once, Lily felt as fragile as she actually was. Grinning brightly behind her pacifier, she gazed up at her Daddy with a look that was as innocent as it was lustful … and each for the right reasons. Zeke folded up the front of the diaper, the thickness making contact with her and pressing close as he fastened the tapes snuggly at her hips. As he placed the used wipes inside the used diaper, then rolling it up into a little ball, Lily placed both of her hands on the underside of the new diaper around her. Drawing her knees up, she basked in that glorious feeling of being enveloped in a soft thickness that fit her as perfectly as a hand in a glove. Oh, life was good. It had always been good and she hadn’t forgotten any of the details as to why. Getting one of his white button-down shirts from the closet, he unbuttoned the cuffs – doing his best to work some of the stiffness out of the garment before he sat her up in the crib and put her arms into the sleeves. Lily immediately started buttoning the front, all aglow once more as she had just been given a Daddy Shirt to wear. Zeke took a seat on the edge of the bed. Lily stood to her feet and walked over to him, relearning what it felt like to waddle in a thick diaper. She was even more adorable than she used to be. Nowadays, she knew she was adorable and there was nothing she could do to prevent it – a most agreeable bit of acceptance on her part. “Princess, I have something to tell you, but I don’t want to startle you,” Zeke said calmly yet cryptical, Lily tilting her head to the side and nursing on her pacifier as she pulled down on the front shirt tails and touched her knees together in front of him. “There are still two more Christmas presents to be opened. And they are both out in the living room, under the sofa.” What? Lily’s eyes grew big and wide. Zeke smiled brightly, seeing her reaction of excitement – but a reaction she was trying to keep control of. Not wanting her to hold back at all, he reached into his shirt pocket again, taking out a pacifier clip – attaching one end to the collar of the button-down shirt she was wearing and the other end to the handle of her pacifier. “Go,” he said with excitement, patting her diapered bottom – Lily then sprinting out of the bedroom and down the hallway. She crinkled all the way, as blissful and as jovial as a little girl who had just woken up on Christmas morning and was running downstairs to the presents under the tree. Zeke followed after her, seeing Lily stop at the edge of the living room carpet and then getting down on her hands-n-knees to crawl. The whole time as she moved across the carpet, her attention was focused in on the sofa and what might have been underneath it. Getting over to the front of the sofa, she crouched down – lifting her diapered bottom way up in the air and giving Zeke the cutest picture in the world to take with his phone. But it was at that moment that Lily had a flashback to Pretzel, the family’s poodle terrier that had passed away four years ago. Pretzel had aged gracefully, but had always had a weak stomach and a weak system in general. Born as a runt, she was always tiny. On the last night of its life, Pretzel crawled under the sofa. This was her favorite spot to hide things she didn’t want anyone else to have. But with the introduction of Lucy to the family, Pretzel’s assured hiding spot was discovered. On that last night of her life, Lily and Lucy both said goodbye to her as she hid under the sofa – just in case the pooch wasn’t alive the next morning. Zeke stayed up all night and sat on the sofa, waiting until Pretzel came out. And when she did, she hopped up onto the sofa and onto his lap – falling asleep in his arms and never waking up again. Zeke and Lily planned this scenario out so that Lucy wouldn’t ever wake up to see a dead pooch. By dawn of that next morning, Zeke had already been to the 24-hour vet in the northern end of Lancaster City. And he had returned with Pretzel’s ashes. It was a sad morning, but it was one that happened well. Lily and Lucy had both had the opportunity to say goodbye to Pretzel. And as they ate breakfast that morning, they all decided that there would be no other family dog ever. Pretzel was irreplaceable. Lily found two gifts. Reaching underneath the sofa, she slid both gifts out. One was wrapped in soft pink wrapping paper and the other was wrapped in white paper with a baby block design on it. Zeke walked into the living room and sat on the sofa, Lily leaning back against his shins and picking up the gift with the baby block prints on the wrapping paper. She made short-order of the task of unwrapping it. Inside was a white box, similar to one you would put a dress shirt in. Lifting the lid off the box, her mouth dropped wide open and the pacifier fell from her lips. Zeke figured this would happen and that was why he attached the pacifier clip. He also figured she would open the gift with the baby block paper first. Inside the box she found a naughty-but-cute ruffly outfit. It had a white and light blue checkered design on it that gave it the Little Miss Muffet appeal. There was white lace around all the edges. The cute top had poofy short sleeves and it was barely long enough to cover her endowment. There was a matching pair of bottoms that would be perfect as a diaper cover. A matching bonnet and bib was also included. There were matching hand mitts and footies, both being able to be locked on her wrists and ankles. Her little heart was pounding inside her chest at the thought of Zeke dressing her in the outfit. Lily had always remarked how the thought of being forced to do things was a turn-on for her. But because of her fragile condition, there would never be any physical forcing of anything. However, that didn’t mean that she couldn’t feel the joys of having no other alternative. Locking mitts and an adorable outfit would certainly help with this endeavor. Carefully putting the outfit back into the box and setting it aside, Lily picked up the second gift. Zeke scooped her up off the rug and sat her on his lap as she began to tear the pink wrapping paper off this gift. Now what on Earth could he have put in this box to top the outfit? Tearing the second gift open just as quickly as she had the first one, Lily found another layer of wrapping paper – also with the color of soft pink. So, she tore that layer off and found a layer of newspaper. Looking back over her shoulder and glaring up at Zeke, she plunked her pacifier back in her mouth and tore the newspaper off. She knew what he was up to. Zeke had often wrapped Lucy’s gifts in the same manner, layer after layer after layer. Lily tore through three more layers of newspaper until she finally got to the present. Her mouth dropped open again and the pacifier fell from her lips. He certainly knew how to follow up that ruffly outfit. The second gift was a diary. Now, to most people, a diary wouldn’t be all that great of a gift or meaningful in any real way. But to Lily, her past diaries were quite detailed. Some of the diaries she had kept in the past were about her dreams with Mr. Woody and the other dream elves. She would write of the adventures the dream elves would take her on in the CountrySide. She would use these diary entries as bed time stories that she told Lucy when the girl was very little. The first diary she kept was more than 12 years ago when she underwent the first wave of treatments for her medical condition, just recently diagnosed at that time. She was battling for her life and Zeke gave her that first diary, telling her to put all her feelings in it. She wrote such detailed accounts of her treatment sessions as well as her everyday life and what she did that, once that first round of treatments ended, she was able to look back at the diary entries to see how hope had grown within her each day. “This new diary is for dream catching,” Zeke whispered to her, then plunking her pacifier back in her mouth as she stared at the diary in her hands with a mesmerized daze. “I want you to write in it whatever your little heart desires to fill those pages with.” Scooping her up into his arms and resting her diapered toosh on his left hip, he carried her into the kitchen and got a baby bottle out of the hutch cupboard. He had been so clever in placing some of these items where they wouldn’t be seen by Lucy, primarily choosing locations the girl never went near. But it was so neat how he pulled it off. Lily began looking around the kitchen from her seat on his hip as he got milk from the fridge and filled the baby bottle, then putting the bottle in the microwave and reaching for the cupboard that had her medication in it. This was the moment when shyness overtook Lily. Wrapping her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck, she buried her face in his left sternum as she nursed on her pacifier. Several years ago, Zeke had taken over the responsibility of handling all her medication. It was one of many ways they could still subtly embrace the Daddy-n-BabyGirl dynamic. And because it was a very important responsibility, it kept their bond as strong as always. It really simplified everything for Lily, especially on days when fatigue got the best of her. She wouldn’t have to worry about missing a med time. With birth control pills no longer being necessary, there was at least one less pill to swallow each day. And with ever-present hope, maybe someday, Lily wouldn’t need any of the pills anymore. Until then, Dr. Zeke was in the house and open for business. Taking the warmed baby bottle of milk out of the microwave, Zeke screwed the top onto it and brought the pill box along as he carried her back into the living room. Sitting on the couch, he reached for the blanket from the back of the sofa and placed it across his lap, having her lay down in it. Swaddling her like a newborn, he cradled her across his lap – holding her neck up with the inside of his left elbow. One at a time, he placed the pills of the day on her tongue. Thankfully, they weren’t very large and she was able to swallow them three at a time. She was given the second and final tongue-full of pills and then was given the warm silicone nipple of her baby bottle. “Daddy, will you continue the story of The Princess of Infantilum this week?” Lily asked with a soft, small whisper. Taking the nipple in her lips, she leaned back and gazed up at him with absolute innocence in her irises as she began to swallow the milk. It wouldn’t be long before she was fast sleep in his arms. But their week of rediscovery had only just begun. For as much as things had changed in their lives, some things still remained same.
  9. Haven't been on this site very often recently, beyond posting a few stories. I had forgotten how muc DailyDiapers offers to do.

  10. I think the Daddy seed was planted in me when I was fairly young.
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