“The Ecstasy of a Fantasy Unknown”
Lucy lay comfortably on her back on the futon in the living room. Xavier had pulled it out and set it up as playpen, of sorts, for her. She was nestled on top of the softest blanket she had ever felt and surrounded with all the stuffed animals he had bought her in the past month. But she was more so nestled with her thoughts of this glorious Thursday morning.
Her work schedule and Xavier’s work schedule lined up perfectly to give them Thursdays and Fridays off. Both worked Saturdays and Sundays. So their “weekends” were always spent the two days prior.
She looked out at him in the kitchen while nibbling softly on her pacifier and remaining blissfully lost in the recent memories. Her hair was drying. Her body was bathed and smooth. She could smell the scent of the shampoo he used, the lotion on her skin and the powder from her diaper. The sunshine cascaded down on her frame and warmed her skin. She shifted slightly, pulling on the bottom hem of her Daddy’s green t-shirt – which served perfectly as a night shirt for her.
In a few short weeks, Lucy had gone from being incapable of dreaming to discovering the secrets of her heart. And as if fate had been directing her along each step of her life to arrive prepared at this moment, a return to innocence had beckoned her present and her future.
She had always been a hard-headed, no nonsense girl – having been groomed by her equally hard-headed father, Zeke, to take life by the reins and blaze her own path.
Yet now, suddenly she found herself softening from the inside and embracing the dreams she now visited each night. Much like her fragile yet often high-strung mother, Lily, Lucy had the ability to dream of places which harbored the desires of her heart. And from her dreams came the necessity to live her life fulfilled.
Lucy had embraced the littleness of being a BabyGirl. And through meeting Xavier, the Daddy/BabyGirl Dynamic was born into her reality with the ecstasy of a fantasy unknown.
She was in a state of happiness that intoxicated her senses. Closing her eyes, her tummy began to flutter with the tummyflies her Daddy had told her so much about. And her mind wandered back to the events of the mornings which brought her to where she was, just then:
That morning, Lucy had awakened with the beams of dawn light that made the day seem like it would be one she would never forget.
How right her instincts were.
Lying in bed, her frame was snuggled up next to Xavier and draping over the right side of his body. His steady breathing was the metronome that conducted the tempo of her slumber through the night. Her night shirt was his light blue Detroit Lions Jersey.
She was his blanket, his BabyGirl, his passion in an emotion larger than life. He was her pillow, her Daddy, her purpose in a world that grew smaller each day.
Waking up next to him defined the dynamic for her, showing that purpose and passion were the starting points for a connection which went deeper within than all previous attempts at love, strengthening with each heartbeat and renewing with each breath.
For the first time in her life, she felt security. And it was this safety which had enabled her to open the windows of her soul and discover that her life was meant to be simple and sweet.
She was a BabyGirl at heart, just as her mother had always been.
Tucking her locks behind her right ear, she watched him sleeping. His face showed no struggle to find comfort or strife to find peace. He was an angel, her angel.
She lightly shifted her hips, trying to work out the cramp in her tummy and the crinkle of her diaper became the sounds which echoed in her ears.
She was dry, but had to pee badly. The cramp she loosened had given her relief from discomfort, but brought about this urgency. Not wanting to get up yet, she relaxed her frame and wet her diaper, slowly but freely.
She was fast accepting that the diaper she wore wasn’t merely just an article of clothing, but also a state of being. Some things just seemed natural to her nowadays and embracing those feelings seemed even more natural. She rested her head back down on his chest, closing her eyes as the littleness took her thoughts over. She knew he would take care of her when he woke up. And besides, being a BabyGirl in a wet diaper was something she was getting used to being, even though she was changed regularly and didn’t stay wet for long.
“Good Morning, Princess,” she heard his deep timbre say.
Oh, his voice. That sweet sound which escaped his lips and the sentiments he conveyed with a few short words. The tummyflies danced within her and her entire body tingled as he placed his hand on the seat of her diaper.
“Are you finished?” he asked with a kindness that only a Daddy understood to speak.
She lifted her head and opened her electric blue eyes, gazing up at him with an innocence that only a BabyGirl could convey without speaking. She nodded, slowly and timidly.
His power was as intoxicating as her thoughts of him, but what held its merit in her soul was the knowledge that he had the power of kindness. And it was his kindness which made her feel comfortable to reveal her littleness and live contentedly within its limits.
He placed his left hand on the back of her head and leaned forward, kissing her forehead gently as her rolled her over onto her back. She closed her eyes and touched the side of his face with her delicate fingertips. A kiss to the lips felt like passion. A kiss to the forehead felt like passion for a lifetime.
He sat up and she stretched her arms above her head, knowing what was about to happen. In an instant, the football jersey was removed from her torso and tossed into the laundry basket in the corner of his bedroom.
He unfastened her diaper tapes and lowered the front of her diaper down between her legs onto the bed. She lied before him as a naked BabyGirl, his naked BabyGirl. He got up and walked to the dresser, opening the top drawer and taking out a diaper for her.
He had a belief which she always found to be rather silly – that no BabyGirl should ever wear the same clothing more than six hours. For herself, she believed he just liked the naked sight of her. Whichever was the truth, she had no problem being naked, not when her heart belonged to him and not when his eyes told of a hunger for her.
He sat alongside her on the bed and gazed down at her. She lied there, calmly and without reservation. Her elbows were bent and her hands rested on the pillow on either side of her head. Her fingers had closed into a softened grip.
He placed a wipe to the skin on her right hip and began to caress it across her front. She took in a deep breath of air, a quick shuddered to reaction to the coolness of his touch. But her eyes remained locked, entranced and mesmerized with his face and with the soul behind the man she called Daddy.
Her body followed his touch, curling her legs up as he took another wipe to her bottom. His hands displayed his gentleness. And her heart pounded at the knowledge that he cared so much about her that he would treat with the softest touch possible to not disturb the safety she now knew.
Holding her bottom and legs in the air with a hand to her ankles, he slid her wet diaper away and placed a new beneath her on the mattress. Unfolding it, he rested her tailbone back down.
And then came the powder – that sweet scent which entered her nose and exited her with a tiny whimper behind her pacifier. His fingers danced across her bottom with the feel of silk to smoothness.
Lowering her bottom into the softness of her diaper, he parted her knees and continued the powder to her front.
Drawing the front of her diaper up and into place, fastening the tapes at her hips, he enveloped her with a snugness that always sent her mind racing and made her smile at the galloping of her own thoughts.
Xavier stood to his feet and she raised her hands to him as he lifted her into his arms.
Her legs wrapped around his waist and locked ankles at the small of his back. Her arms wrapped around his neck and she pressed herself against him, resting the side of her head on his shoulder.
His left hand supported her bottom as his right hand ran up and down the skin of her back. Being diapered by him was one of those bonding moments he had told her about and she had learned that the more she embraced the dream, the more she discovered the ecstasy of a fantasy unknown.
He scooped up the wet diaper from the bed and headed to the kitchen. The morning routine had just begun. And as he carried her down the hallway, she took the pacifier out of from between the lips to whisper the sentiments of her heart.
“I love you, Daddy,” she whispered with a voice as little as he had made her feel and with the same abounding love he showed her every moment of this fantasy she now called life.
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