Taming Wild Horses

Taken from: Taming Wild Horses
The Creole Crawl
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here is the story of a college girl who braved the Big Easy, wound up in a bar called “The Creole Crawl” & found two things she had never known before …

who she was and where she belonged.

Warning:  This ain’t no Daddy/BabyGirl story.


Taming Wild Horses – 

Thursday night and The Creole Crawl was packed & jumping.  It was a big night for college drinking and this bar, being a few blocks from main campus, made it a hot spot in the French Quarter of New Orleans.  From sports jocks to sorority sweeties, the glasses were tipping to the ale, the asses were grinding to the beat and finding a good time in the Big Easy seemed quite easy indeed.

But poor Winnie, a country girl who had tried hard to adjust since the beginning of the semester, almost turned around and ran out of that bar.  She probably would have bolted if Dominique hadn’t seen her, in the nick of time, from behind the bar and waved her over.  Winnie took small steps forward, trying to squeeze through the gyrating drunkens, but to no avail.  Winnie’s presence was never a physical force to reckon with and in light of the good time being had, she couldn’t get anyone’s attention to ask them to move.

Thank goodness Mike was standing by the front door.  Mike was a really, really big black guy who was there for one reason only – to bounce those in the crowd who needed to go.  He was judge, jury and prosecution.  And no one ever question him.  Dominique knew how to bring thirsty fun-lovers in and she knew who to hire to keep the rest out of The Creole Crawl.  He had a presence that Winnie could really have used at that moment.  With no other options, she walked up to him and, though intimidated tremendously, she spoke to him.

“Hi Mike,” Winnie said. “Remember me? I was here last weekend.”

“A lot of people were here last weekend,” Mike said with a gentle tone as he bent down to her eye level, seeing she was shaking like a leaf.  “And your name is?”

“Winnie,” she answered timidly.  “Miss LaRue hired me to work at the bar and I start tonight but I can’t get to the bar.”

Mike stood up, lifting his chin and looking across the room to Dominique, who nodded.  He grabbed Winnie by her biceps, turned her to face Dominique and lifted her up.  Dominique smiled with near-laughter and nodded again, giving him arm movement gestures as if to say: Raise the roof.  He set Winnie back down.  The poor girl stood there, looking at the Dominique with confusion as to what her Raise the roof arms were about.  Suddenly, Mike scooped her up into a cradle position and began to work his sizeable body through the crowd.  

“New Crawler!” he yelled out while in the middle of the room..

The crowd begins to chant New Crawler! as they took Winnie out of his arms and began to pass her across the top of the crowd, surfing her with their hands to the bar.

“How’s that for an entrance?” Dominique asked Winnie as she was set to feet behind the bar. 

The crowd applauded with uproarious approval. 

“Hold on a second while I properly introduce you.,” Dominique said before she  stuck her fingers in her mouth, making an ear-piercing whistle as the crowd quieted down and the music was lowered.

“Attention boys and girls, this is Winnie. Everyone say Hi Winnie!” Dominique called out to the crowd.

“Hi Winnie!” the crowd said in unison.

“Boys, if you touch Winnie’s ass, Mike will break yours!” Dominique said with a raised eyebrow as Mike pumped his fists from the front door, making the crowd laugh.  “But feel free to grope me all you want!”

The crowd roared with laughter and whistles as Dominique cued for the music to be turned back up.  Winnie is red-faced but absorbing all the attention she could.  It was a bit jarring to have gone so quickly from being ignored to being the talk of the bar.  She wasn’t sure how to react and luckily she didn’t need to respond as Dominique took hold of her hand and spun her around in a circle.

“Model for me, Winnie,” Dominique said, inspecting what Winnie had dressed in.

Winnie’s posed as best she could with a flustered condition.  She wore a short-sleeved lavender button down shirt, white mid-thigh jean shorts, burnt sienna nail polish on her fingertips as well as the toenails sticking out of her brown sandals.  Winnie’s hair was wavy and free flowing.  And her eye shadow was a soft shade of brown.

“Look at you, rocking the earth tones. You’re hot, Coyote Pretty,” Dominique said, looking her up and down once more.  “And I can see that twinkle in your eyes we talked about last week.  You’re gonna steal all the other bar girls’ tips away.”

Dominique leaned in and whispered in Winnie’s ear.

“Steal every penny and don’t let any of them make you feel bad for doing it, okay?” Dominique asked, standing back up and looking in Winnie’s eyes.  “Oh my goodness, I almost forgot the effects of the new girl crawl.  Come with me.”

Dominique took hold of Winnie’s hand and led her behind the bar to the back and right into the employee bathroom.  Winnie had only known Dominique for about a week at this point, but had already grown close to her.  She didn’t think they were up to the joint bathroom trips yet, however. 

Regardless, Winnie began checking her make-up in the mirror as Dominique shut the bathroom door and then reached around the front of Winnie, unbuttoning and unzipping her white jean shorts.  A little more than just shocked, she turned around as Dominique slid Winnie’s shorts and panties down to her knees before sitting the girl on the toilet.  The look on Winnie’s face had gone from a little more than just shocked to disbelief.

“I don’t think I have to go to the bathroom, Miss LaRue,” Winnie said, reaching to pull her clothes back up.  “I think I’d …”

“Shhhhhh,” Dominique said, placing her hand on Winnie’s left wrist to stop the girl from trying to get up from the toilet.  “I have made very clear to you that you are to call me Dom, not Miss LaRue.”

“I’m sorry,” Winnie said, lowering her chin but opening her eyes widely at what she saw.

Dominique had a way about her that enabled her to command any situation, from owning a bar to quieting a crowd to reading people’s needs and getting them to realize it themselves.  In all of Winnie’s new college experiences so far and of all the people she had met in her first two weeks, Dominique had been the most polarizing force  in the Big Easy.  And her new boss could order her around one minute, only to use a more maternal touch the next minute.

If Winnie only knew how correct her first impression of Dominique was, she might not have ever resisted at all.  She began to hear the tinkling of the water beneath her and her look of disbelief softened into a bit of acceptance.  Dominique’s effect on her was mesmerizing. 

“How did you know?” Winnie asked, dumbfounded that Dominique could sense she needed to pee.

Dominique took a length of toilet paper and knelt down in front of Winnie, wiping the front of Winnie’s panties dry.

“Because you carry yourself differently when your bladder is getting full and your eyes tremble when looking at others.  You were concentrating so hard on showing me the twinkle in your eyes that you revealed the tinkle elsewhere,” Dominique said softly but with a smile while Winnie laughed at the sound of what she said but blushed nonetheless.

“If you didn’t have to pee right now, then you would have been the first girl I ever hired to make it across the new girl crawl without the need afterwards,” Dominique said, standing to her feet while placing a fingernail under Winnie’s chin and slowly raising the girl’s eyes.  “Don’t ever be afraid to tell me anything.  Just be a good girl for me and I’ll take care of you.”

Dominique seemed to be a rarity, at least in Winnie life that was the case.  She had never met anyone back home in Kansas who had made a raging success of a business before their 30th birthday.  LSU seemed like a good school for Winnie to do the second half of her studies at.  Then, LSU seemed like a mistake.  Then she met Dominique, got hired as a bar girl and had been receiving lots of help in the confidence department ever since – thanks to Dominique.  And all of this happened inside of two weeks. 

 “Now,” Dominique began, going to the sink to wash her hands   “How often do you have these leaking accidents?”

Winnie’s eyes grew big and wide, looking up at Dominique with only temporary disbelief this time.  But the question still remained in the forefront of her mind:  How did she know that?

“Not very often,” Winnie admitted, taking a length of toilet paper from the roll as she finished on the toilet.  “At certain times in the month it happens, but not regularly.”

“Stand up,” Dominique instructed as she reached behind Winnie and flushed the toilet.

Winnie stood up and Dominique took hold of the waistband of her white cotton panties.  Winnie felt so small inside and Dominique’s assertive nature was the cure to insecurity that often seemed poisonous.

“I worried about you a lot this past week,” Dominique said as she slowly pulled Winnie’s panties up into place, followed by her white jean shorts.  “There’s something inside you that makes me …… I don’t even know how to describe it yet.  But I’ll find the words.”

“Thank you for the job.  Thank you for everything you’ve done for me so far,” Winnie said, embracing Dominique closely.  “Before I met you last week, I was almost ready to leave New Orleans and give up.”

“I know.  I could see that in your eyes, too,” Dominique said, embracing Winnie and rubbing her back.  “You’ll be just fine.”

Winnie could only imagine what else was going to suddenly change in her life.  In less than 48 hours, she would be faced with forgetting the imagination and embracing what had become life.

 “Okay, Coyote Pretty,” Dominique said, taking hold of her hand, opening the bathroom door and leading her out to the bar.  “It’s time to go water the horses.”

Winnie took in a deep breath as Dominique walked her up to the other bar girls.  Oh my, did the other girls shoot those dagger-filled looks at her.  This was obviously competition for more than just attention from the bar patrons.  Tip money was now at stake and Winnie didn’t feel welcomed by either on the girls in front of her.  But Dominique had hired her and she was the only welcome that mattered.  This was the mindset Winnie decided to put herself in.

“Winnie, meet Trixie and Dixie,” Dominique said as Winnie took in the identical schoolgirl appearances of the girls.  “Yes, they actually are twins.”

Both blonde-haired girls gave Winnie a half-hearted hello.

“Girls, Winnie went to community college first, too,” Dominique explained to the twins.  “And she made it into LSU.  You might wanna aim high like her.  You both can get there like she did.”

Dominique led Winnie to the other end of the bar.

“Those two don’t have half a brain between them,” Dominique whispered to Winnie.  “But they work hard and I’m hopeful for them.”

At the end of the bar, was a black-haired girl, nearly 6 feet tall and dressed in black leather.

“Crystal,” Dominique said as the girl turned and faced them.  “This is Winnie.”

“Hello,” Crystal said with a sincere tone and smile.

This was a far more inviting individual than the pink skirts behind her.  Winnie waved back to Crystal, cautious to not rush to judgment too quickly, but happy so far.

“Crystal, can you keep an eye on Winnie tonight?  Don’t let her get lost in the shuffle, okay?” Dominique asked.

“No problem,” Crystal replied, going back to filling the drinks in front of her.

“Well, Kansas Girl.  You got your foot in the door,” Dominique said to Winnie.  “Now, you gotta step inside and get comfortable before the door closes and catches your dress.”

“She’ll be fine,” Crystal said with a smile that indicated to Winnie that her first night just might be a bit difficult.

“I’m headed upstairs for a while, but I’ll be back down to check on you,” Dominique said, giving Winnie a quick hug.  “Now make me proud.”

Dominique kissed Winnie on the top of her head and made her way into the back of the bar to the stairs.

“What’s upstairs?” Winnie asked Crystal as she watched Dominique disappear up the steps.

“Dom lives upstairs,” Crystal answered.  “Sometime, you oughta ask her to tell you the story of how she got this place.”

Winnie looked back over at the stairs where Dominique disappeared an she smiled with the knowledge that she hadn’t just picked up a part-time job, but maybe she had found a place where she could at least learn where she was headed.

“So, uh … are you in college as well?” Winnie asked, making small-talk while Crystal finished her current drink order.

“Me?  No, Honey.  I fell in love, got married and that was the end of that,” Crystal laughed.  “I am a mother of three … or four if you include my husband.”

Crystal seemed to be a lot of fun and Winnie delighted in having met a second person who was nice.  Things were starting to look brighter for her decision to move to New Orleans … Then her first night as a bar girl began.

“All right, the first thing you gotta learn is the glass twirl,” Crystal said, walking Winnie over to the small sink and picking up a dirty glass.  “And you need to keep all the glasses washed.  This sink needs to stay empty.  You wash them, you rinse them and then you set them under the bar on a shelf to drip dry.”

Crystal showed the process of washing 30 glasses in two minutes.  By the end, Winnie’s mouth had dropped wide open.

“How do you do that so quickly?” Winnie asked.

“When you live with four males, you learn to clean up messes quick,” Crystal answered, picking up a clean glass and twirling it in her palm.  The glass spun perfectly in hand, circle after circle, without slipping and only stop when she wrapped her fingers around it.  “Now you try.”

Winnie picked up a glass and tried spinning it, but it fell right from her grip, hitting the floor and shattering.  The bar let out a roar of Ooos and Winnie nearly burst into tears.

“It’s okay.  You get twelve of those a night, believe it or not,” Crystal said, retrieving the brush and dust pan from under the sink before facing the crowd.  “AND THEN WHAT DOES SHE GET?”

“The Paddle!” the patron yelled out in unison, pointing up to the long wooden paddle hanging on the center of the bar mirror.

Down the handle of the wooden paddle were the words Shattered Dreams.  Winnie froze in place, horrified at the sight of the paddle.

“You will drop your drawers, lean over the bar and every girl in here will get one whack at your butt,” Crystal said, picking up another clean glass and handing it to Winnie.  “Eleven to go.  Now, try it again.”

Winnie took the glass in her hands, trembling something fiercely as the patrons roared at her.  She tried spinning the glass in her hand again, but dropped this one as well.  It shattered on the floor and the patrons lots their minds.  Winnie was no longer near tears.  They had arrived and as she covered her face with her hands, Crystal took her in her arms.  Awwwww was all that could be heard in the room.

Her new happy outlook suddenly felt as shattered as the two glasses she had broken.  Had she been duped the whole time?  Was this some sort of sick joke that Dominique had played on her?  Why would she do that?  Winnie had innocently wandered into this bar, not looking for anything but to get to know the neighborhood.  And now she felt stupid for having been made a fool of.

“Are you done tearing yourself down?” Crystal asked, seeing the anger forming behind Winnie’s tears. 

Winnie didn’t reply, simply wiping away the tears and standing tall.

“Good because if you’re gonna tear yourself down your whole life, you’ll always be taking two steps backwards with each stride you could be making, otherwise.  It’s your decision,” Crystal said, picking up an empty drink tray and handing it to Winnie.  “And you need to decide now.  There are a lot of tables out there that need bussed clean and that’s a whole lot of empty glasses you’ll be putting on this tray.  I could give you this tray and you could set it on the first table as you walk out the front door … or you could bear down and find a way to fit into this place.  It’s your choice.”

Winnie took the tray and headed out to the table.  Crystal quickly sent out a text on her phone and Dominique appeared back at the top of the stairs.  Sitting down in the middle of the stairs, Dominique stayed out of sight but watched Winnie through the railings.  And poor Winnie did, indeed, set the tray on the first table she came to before heading for the front door.

Tears came to Dominique’s eyes, but she didn’t stop her.  She couldn’t.  Winnie had never been faced with a challenge she couldn’t run away from.  It had to be her decision to stay and break free from the comforts she had known since birth to find her own way.

“Is that really it, Winnie? You’re done?” Mike said as Winnie got to the front door.

“What?” Winnie asked with a hurt tone as she stared at the floor.  “You have no idea what it’s like to be a total stranger and to be made a fool of like this.”

“Winnie, look at me,” Mike said, waiting until she looked at him.  “I am a black man and I live in the south.  I could tell you stories of things far worse that being made a fool of.  But is that really why you’re running?  Because you don’t feel like you fit in?”

Winnie stood silent.

“I won’t stop you if you want to go,” Mike said, reassuming his folded-arm position on the stool by the front door.  “But think back to the reason why you first walked into this bar and think back to the reason why you kept coming back.  If you put some of that college education to good use, you’ll see that only a fool would run away from this situation.”

Winnie reached for the door handle, giving Mike’s advice a fair shake in thought.  She first walked down to The Creole Crawl to find adventure, to see what she had never seen to explore.  She returned because of Dominique.

Winnie released the door handle.  Dominique.  The name rung in the forefront of her soul as she remembered everything Dominique had said to her, including:

Well, Kansas Girl.  You got your foot in the door.  Now, you gotta step inside and get comfortable before the door closes and catches your dress.

I’m headed upstairs for a while, but I’ll be back down to check on you.  Now make me proud.

Winnie turned her head and looked at Dominique sitting on the middle of the stairs.  Tears were streaming from her eyes as well.  As she looked at Dominique, one final statement returned to her thoughts:

 Just be a good girl for me and I’ll take care of you.

Winnie turned back around, facing the patrons and the bar.  That twinkle got caught in her eyes and this time, she wouldn’t be letting it get away.  She walked back up to the first table, picked up the tray and loaded it with every single empty glass on the floor, stacking some glasses inside each other to fit them all on that tray in one trip.

 Getting behind the bar and to the sink, she washed every single one of the glasses in a time shorter than what Crystal had shown her.  Then she picked up a clean glass, twirling it perfectly in her hand before catching it with her fingertips and looking at the customer standing by the beer taps.

“What’ll it be?” Winnie asked with a spark inside her that had always been waiting to ignite.

“Give me your best local,” the guy said.

Winnie smiled slyly at the guy and pulled back the Abita tap.  And the rest of her night was filled with accomplishments she never gave herself credit for having been able to do.  And all she ever needed to do was turn around and take a step forward.

But 11pm still couldn’t have come any sooner and Winnie was exhausted.  She clocked out and headed upstairs to Dominique’s apartment, at Dominique’s request.  Knocking on the upstairs door, Winnie took off her right sandal and drew her right knee up, rubbed her palm on her sole as she flexed her toes.  She had learned many lessons tonight, not the least of which being to wear sneakers next time.

Dominique opened the door and Winnie looked up at her, lowering her leg and standing there for a moment before bursting into tears and running into Dominique’s waiting arms.  She didn’t really cry because she was sad.  She cried because she was physically tired, emotionally spent and because she almost walked away – not just from The Creole Crawl but also from Dominique.

“I’m so sorry,” Winnie cried into Dominique’s chest.

“It’s okay.  You had to decide and you did,” Dominique said, walking Winnie into her apartment and closing the door.  “You have nothing to be sorry.  Even if you had left, you still wouldn’t have had anything to be sorry for.”

Helping Winnie onto the couch, Dominique placed a small pillow behind her head and sat alongside her, pulling out the shirt tails of her lavender shirt.

“Is this chiffon?” Dominique asked, rubbing the shirt tails between her fingers.

Winnie nod, closing her eyes to take a moment to collect herself.

“That’s a pretty smart choice of clothing,” Dominique said, trying to get Winnie’s mind off the earlier events of the night with a little small talk.  “It’s a light material and breathes easy.”

But Winnie wasn’t saying anything.  She had been through an ordeal and only felt worse because she had probably made a big fuss out of it than it truly was worth.  When Winnie felt like she had been overdramatic, she always clammed up – at least long enough to let that feeling pass through her.

“It’s over, Winnie.  Now let it go,” Dominique said with sudden assertiveness but her steady sweetness as she unbuttoned Winnie’s jean shorts and lowered the zipper.

Dominique sat on the other end of the sofa, picking up Winnie’s legs and removing her other sandal before placing the girl’s aching feet on her lap.  Taking hold of Winnie’s left instep, Dominique placed the palm of her other hand on the girl’s right heel, pressing inward and massaging the muscles.

A few minutes went by and Dominique kept working on Winnie’s feet, massaging away the ache without saying a word.  Winnie turned her head to the side, seeing the bottle of white zinfandel sitting on the small table in front of the couch, the two wine glasses – filled, and the flickering flames of the fire place at the other side of the room.

Everything around Winnie was calming.  There were no more noisy patrons – asking for another drink, no more dolled up twins – trading in their daggers for swords before they threw them at her, no more shattering glass, no more of any of that.  It was the peace she needed to be there and to simply relax, but her mind hadn’t left The Creole Crawl just yet.

“Dom, how did I do tonight?” Winnie asked softly, opening her eyes and fidgeting on the couch a bit at the relief of pain in her feet.

Dominique sat up and picked up both glasses of white zinfandel, handing one to Winnie before responding.

“On Crystal’s first night, she broke eight glasses,” Dominique said with a grin and she took a sip of the wine.

“Really?” Winnie asked with surprise, sitting up.

“Trixie’s first night she broke ten glasses.  And Dixie broke eleven,” Dominique responded with a smile of remembrance.  “But you were the closest to giving up.  None of them ever took the option to go to the door and to run away.  They decided to stay and fight through it.  Just like you did.”

Winnie smiled shyly, realizing how real foolishness would’ve been to follow her impulse and take flight.

“Do you know why I do that to my new employees on their first night?” Dominique asked with a moment of sincerity far deeper than any before it.  “It’s because I need to know what they looked like behind their make-up.  I need to know that, even when they were at their worst, they wouldn’t forget what I needed them to do.  Beneath us right now, is my livelihood.  I worked insanely hard to build it up to what it is.  And I will always protect what’s mine.”

“I can understand that.  It’s not always easy to trust people,” Winnie said, taking a sip of wine.

Trusting is the easy part,” Dominique corrected gently.  “It’s finding the right someone that’s tough.”

 “Well, I’ll tell you what I can trust,” Winnie said with a tone of subject change.  “I can trust that I’m gonna have an awesome three-day weekend, because my psych class tomorrow has been cancelled.”

“A shy girl with a lot of free time in the Big Easy,” Dominique said, filling both their glasses again.  “You best be careful.  There are a lot of horny guys out there who might have three-day weekends, too.”

“I usually tell the boys that I’m a virgin and would lie there like a stone because I would have no clue what to do.  When they learn they won’t get much from me, they tend to move on,” Winnie said with confidence, taking her second glass of white zinfandel from Dominique.

“Are you really still a virgin?” Dominique asked with surprise.

“Yep,” Winnie said with chipperness as she began drinking more.

“Wow,” Dominique said as she sat back, staring at the flames across the room in reflection before looking back at Winnie.  “I never could’ve made it 21 years without having sex.  I was a horny little devil.”

“So when did you first do it?” Winnie asked, lying down on the couch.

Dominique ran her fingertips up and down Winnie’s calves.

“You do a nice job of shaving your legs,” Dominique said, feeling her skin.  “You’re soft and smooth.  It feels nice to the touch.”

“I don’t ever let hair grow anywhere on me except my head,” Winnie said, running her fingertip around the rim of her wine glass before touching her lower lip.

Winnie had started piecing together the attraction she had to Dominique.  It was about her power and determination, inspiring and fulfilling.  But it was also about Dominique’s constant nurturing – a type of attention that was warming Winnie up in more ways than one.

“I was a freshman in high school,” Dominique said, keeping the shared gaze with Winnie.  “He was a junior captain on the football team.  I swooned over him and spread legs.  He took me that night and then was done with me.”

“I’m so sorry that happened to you,” Winnie said with gentleness.

“I’m not,” Dominique responded with a smile.  “I learned a lot from my first time.  And I never dated another jock again.  I also learned that if people want something bad enough, they work for it.”

“I’ve always abstained,” Winnie said, taking down her second glass of wine and pouring herself a third.  “There’s no reason I waited, except that I’d only like to have sex with one person my whole life.  But since I’ve waited so long, it isn’t just an urge anymore.  It’s a craving and I’m kind of scared that I’ll be vicious about it when I first have sex.  My hormones have spent all my life living in my head with no opportunity to release.  Because of that, I want to know for sure that I’ll be with the right person when I spread my legs.”

“Did you ever think you found him at one point?” Dominique asked with a playful grin.

“Oh yes,” Winnie replied, batting her eyelashes.  “His name was Enrique.  I loved saying his name … Enrique.  He was a Caribbean dreamboat.  His family moved to Kansas for one year on their way to California.  The night I had to say goodbye to him, I almost asked him to sleep with me.  But I didn’t.”

“Right.  Because you wanted it to last and you knew it was about to end,” Dominique said, pouring her third glass of white zinfandel.

“Well, yeah.  That was a reason, too,” Winnie said, grinning and shrinking up her shoulders with sudden shyness.  “But I think it was more because I had a dirty secret I just couldn’t tell him.”

Dominique sat back and looked at Winnie, trying to read the meaning of the sudden twinkle in her new employee’s eyes.

“Have you told anyone this dirty secret?” Dominique asked with a twinkle of her own as Winnie slowly shook her head no.  “Do you want to tell me?”

“I don’t know,” Winnie said with shyness, almost like she wanted to tell Dominique but still needed that final push to find the courage.

Dominique set her glass back down on the small table, taking Winnie’s glass and doing the same with it.  Then she scooted herself to the middle of the couch, grabbed hold of the front of Winnie’s jean shorts and the waist band f her panties and sat the girl up, making her straddle her finely shaven legs on either side of Dominique’s lap.

“You are going to spend the night with me,” Dominique said softly, but assertively.  “You’re going to go take a shower and when you come out, you’re going to tell me your dirty little secret.  Is that understood?”

“Yes, Dom,” Winnie said with a compliance that struck a slight tingle between her legs.

“Get going,” Dominique instructed, smacking Winnie’s bottom.

Winnie hopped up and ran to the bathroom, unbuttoning her chiffon shirt and unfastening her bra strap.  She dropped the shirt and bra on the bathroom floor before sliding her panties and her white jean shorts down her legs.  With haste, she climbed into the shower, not for the desire to get done quickly so she could tell Dominique something that no one in this world knew about her – but rather, to have a little time to first recover from the fantasy of actually sharing her secret and then to have a little time to contemplate if she was ready to reveal it.

She stayed in that shower for 45 minutes, most of which was spent leaning up against the wall as she tried to find the best way to tell Dominique.  Should she ask Dominique if she had ever heard the word ABDL?  But what if Dominique didn’t like the idea of age play?  What if the whole diaper, pacifier and bottle thing turned her off?  What would Winnie do then?  She could take the secret back and untell it.

Stepping out of the shower, she toweled herself off and took a blow dryer to her hair, just enough to feather it out and not make a sloppy mess of the pillows.  Looking to the floor, she saw that all her clothing was gone, except for her panties.  Slipping into them, she took hold of the bathroom doorknob and with a heavily beating heart, turned it.

“Dom, do you have my clothes?” Winnie asked with a small voice as she stepped out into the living room.

The sofa had been opened up and turned into a bed.  Dominique was already undressed and lying under the covers she had made the bed up with. 

“They’re in the hamper,” Dominique said with gentleness.  “I’ll wash them in the morning.”

Winnie regressed, standing there in nothing but her panties.  Her chin lowered and she became tremendously shy, filled with the angst of revealing her secret, the tingle between her legs, her need to tell Dominique that she had feelings for her and the fact that she had no other clothing to wear.

“Come here,” Dominique said, summoning Winnie to bed with her when she saw the girl’s sudden shy behavior form across her body.

Winnie followed the feeling and climbed in bed with Dominique, wrapping her arms around her, whispering the secret in her ear and falling asleep together … like two little fishes in the sea.


Friday night.  The Creole Crawl was packed again, not as much as last night, but still jumping with drunken jocks and sorority sweeties. 

Dominique sat in the corner of the room, having cracked a window to smoke.  A sense of pride had fallen over her.  Not only had she made this bar a success and not only had she done this on her own, but Winnie, that adorable little angel behind the bar, had spread her wings as was learning to fly.

“Do you know how to make a Long Island Iced Tea,” a patron said to her from the front of the bar counter.

“I will once you tell me what’s in it,” Winnie said confidently as she walked over to the wall of liquor bottles in front of the bar mirror.

“Okay, it has Triple Sec, sour mix, vodka, tequila, rum and a splash of Coke,” the patron said, watching Winnie take down the bottles needed.

She set them on the counter in front of him and opened the cooler below, taking out the sour mix and setting it with the other bottles.

“Now go easy on the sour mix,” the guy instructed.

“You got it,” Winnie said, picking up a clean glass from below and twirling it before filling it with ice and setting it down.  “I’ll go Big Easy on it.”

Winnie clenched the triple sec and vodka between the thumb, pointer and middle fingers in her left hand.  And she did the same with the tequila and the rum in her right hand before picking up all four bottle, turning them over and pouring them into the glass.  The clear mixture it made had filled the glass three quarters full when Winnie stopped pouring the bottles.  She walked them all back over to the liquor shelf and set them together so as to remember they were all needed for a Long Island Iced Tea.  She picked up the soda gun and added the splash of Coke with an easy offering of sour mix.  Then she capped the glass with the mixing canister, sloshing everything back and forth a few times before setting the glass back down on the counter.

The drink spun in a perfect swirl, being slowed down by the ice cubes as she picked up a straw, tore the paper off of everything but one end and place the straw in the drink as the swirl came to a stop.

“That’ll be five bucks,” she said, dusting her hands off with pride.

“Here’s ten,” the guy said, handing her the bill as he picked up his drink.  “The rest is yours.”

Winnie looked at the ten dollar bill and smiled.  Then she looked over to Dominique in the corner who gave her a wink and a smile of her own.

Oh wow.  Winnie took the bill to the register, ringing the drink order up as she sudden realized that she could make a lot of money doing this.  All it took was a little confidence, a little smile, a little make-up and that twinkle in her eyes to keep these patrons coming back up for another drink.  They weren’t just coming up to her to get alcohol.  They were coming up to her to spend a few seconds with her as she dazzled and impressed.

Dominique was all aglow, watching the adorable little Winnie behind the bar, spreading her wings and learning to fly.  But Dominique’s thoughts weren’t about the moment so much as they were about that dirty little secret Winnie had opened up and revealed to her last night.  She reflected on the words Winnie whispered with tremble before they went to sleep:

Through my college searches online, I also dabbled with some dirty searches, too.  I searched for a fetish about age play and I found ABDL.  I read up on it and liked the submissive idea. Being seen that way and being treated that way and feeling helpless.  And I knew that was what I had been feeling all my life.

Dominique didn’t take for granted the absolute trust Winnie placed in her, nor did she forget to place value on the angst Winnie must have felt to open her heart and bare the secret of her life.  Perhaps it was that bit of trepidation that had pushed Winnie’s little heart over the edge and conflicted her mind enough to wet herself in her sleep last night.

Lighting another cigarette, Dominique looked out the window, reflecting on how they both greeted this morning:

Dominique had awoken to the sounds of Winnie’s unremitting tears.  Sitting up she saw they were both lying in a puddle of Winnie’s pee.  The girl was so distraught she could do nothing by lie there, covering her face while she cried.  Dominique got up and cleaned herself off, putting on a pair of pair of sleeping pants before getting a washcloth and returning to the side of the sobbing Winnie.  She slid Winnie’s soaked panties down off her legs and forced the girl to stand up to be wiped clean with the wash cloth.

Adding the bed sheets to the laundry in the hamper, Dominique sat Winnie on the toilet for twenty minutes to make certain she was done peeing.  But real recovery wouldn’t begin for Winnie until Dominique placed her across her lap and cradled her.  Winnie nestled her now-completely naked frame up against Dominique’s chest.

“Jaegar shots!” was the cry from the crowd that snapped  Dominique out of her reflection, but only long enough to see Winnie line up 21 shot glass and fill them with a precision far beyond a second-day employee’s best efforts.

Dominique stared at Winnie, realizing that she had wild horses within her.  Thus far, Winnie was able to control them, by not allowing them to be free.  When wild horses are first corralled, they react to the loss of freedom.  Some will never be able to be anything but wild.  For all the rest, they have to be tamed and it’s a process that can sometimes take a while.  Abstinence was always a good policy for any girl to uphold, until the day she was prepared to come of age.  Winnie was there, but had waited so long that her process might take too long for her to get through.

Dominique remembered what it felt like the moment Winnie stopped crying that morning while being cradled.  Recovery had been achieved in the girl’s heart.  And full understanding had been made in Dominique’s heart.  It was then that Dominique went from being a nurturing force in Winnie’s newly discovered reality to a maternal one.

ABDL suddenly made sense to Dominique, but it would only make sense if she had met the right person.  She put out her cigarette, realizing what Winnie truly meant by the right person.

Throughout the rest of Winnie’s shift, Dominique watched her bust her hump.  But she kept remembering how Winnie reacted to the nurturing.  She was such a sweet girl and she was naturally submissive.  Being a virgin, Winnie remained as pure as could be.  Though still immature in many ways for her age, she had found a way to keep her wild horses at bay, unbridled and whole.  From the way she spoke of her father, it was obvious that she had been a Daddy’s Girl all her life.

Dominique could also see how Winnie needed help to break out of her shell and to do the one thing she truly wanted to do in attending college in New Orleans … explore.  Taming wild horses would only lead to an outburst for freedom, but that was what a mother did.  Dominique would love Winnie, limit Winnie and let Winnie be who she was destined to become.

11 pm arrived and though Winnie was tired, she was also exhilarated.  This day had begun as such a horrible disaster, but little by little, Winnie was pieced back together again by someone she both admired and was surely falling in love with. 

Making her way up the stairs to Dominique’s apartment, Winnie was trying to reflect on the journeys she had made in her heart and in life since she began the spring semester at LSU two weeks ago.  This day in particular kept her moving, even though her lone Friday class was cancelled.  It began with a tear-filled awakening as she embarrassed herself by not being truthful with Dominique about the severity of her wetting problem.  After a calming, wonderful morning above the bar, Winnie ran back to her college to get clothing, to check her mail and to get a little schoolwork done to stay ahead.  But she found herself racing back to the bar – getting there just in time to begin her shift at 4pm.

As she knocked on Dominique’s door at the top of the stairs, she had no idea that her day would end as it began – with tears, except the tears she would soon drip would be different than those she woke up with.

Dominique answered the door in a pair of silk pajamas, she already had taken to another bottle of zinfandel and was warmed up.

“Come in,” Dominique said sweetly, shutting the door behind Winnie as the bar star made her way to the couch.

It felt good to sit down.  She had been on her feet for quite a few hours.  But she remembered to grab sneakers back at her dorm. So her feet weren’t aching like last night.  But sitting was wonderful and she took her sneakers and socks off for added comfort, making the beginning of a trail of clothing that would soon grow.

“Those are cute pajamas, Dom,” Winnie said, smiling as she knelt up on the couch, leaning over the back to watch her at the kitchen table.

“Well thank you, Winnie.  I took a long bath tonight and just wanted to slip into something comfortable afterwards.  Which reminds me …,” Dominique said, finishing her glass of wine before picking up a long white box from her desk and setting it on the kitchen table.  “I went shopping a bit this afternoon and I bought something for you.”

“You did?” Winnie asked with excitement as she rose up on the couch.

“Yes and I want you to open it right now.  Come, come, come,” Dominique said as she summoned Winnie to the table while spinning a chair around and tapping its seat for the girl to kneel on.

Winnie jumped up off the couch and ran to the table, indeed kneeling on the chair as she carefully removed the top of the box.  On the inside of it was pink tissue paper, wrapped in such a fashion as to not reveal what was inside it but to give hints of what it might be.  Winnie carefully peeled back the layers of pink tissue paper to find a white, soft cotton babydoll nightie.  She held it up, feeling its lacy garnishments at the lower hem.

“It’s beautiful,” Winnie whispered, so touched by Dominique’s thoughtfulness that she lost her voice for a moment.

“I saw this nightie and it made me think of you,” Dominique whispered back to her while stepping behind the girl and wrapping her arms around her. 

Winnie felt that tingle again and her heart began to beat just a bit faster as a wave of affection washed over her.

“And you are going to look adorable when I dress you in it …,” Dominique whispered as she began unbuttoning Winnie’s work shirt.  “… after you receive your bath.”

Winnie closed her eyes, anticipating the next wave of sensations to place goose bumps up and down her body.  Want was all she could truly focus on.  Winnie wanted Dominique’s attention, that nurturing that made her feel more important than anything, that sentiment that made her feel like she didn’t need to compete to survive, to be noticed, to be cherished and needed and loved.

Dominique unbuttoned the final button at Winnie’s shirt tails and rolled her fingers nails back up the center of Winnie’s naked belly.  Winnie could feel the gentleness in Dominique’s touch, so very opposite of the no-nonsense, controlling demeanor that her new employer exhibited and lived by.  And though Dominique was being gentle, the effect it had on Winnie’s will power and independence was just as prevailing as her assertion.

“That’s a good girl,” Dominique said with a tone more sugary than candy as she took hold of either lapel of Winnie’s shirt and opened the front of it.

Winnie stood to her feet as Dominique slid the chair out of the way and pressed her center against the edge of the table.  The cooling air of the early February night rushed across her skin and, mixed with the soft timbre of Dominique’s voice.  And as the shirt was slid off her shoulders, she began to swoon in the lullaby of a simpler state of mind – one that soaked in the love she was being shown.  And one that enabled her to simply enjoy the fact that Dominique did feel something for her, too.  Though neither had confessed any feelings yet, they were heading in that direction, to that point when all that would be left to say were the words that mattered the most. 

As the shirt fell to Winnie’s wrists and then to the floor, she felt the fear of confession being stripped away from her, too.  Dominique placed her hand on Winnie’s shoulder and worked her fingers into the girl’s neck muscles, moving her hands outward and then back in as she slipped her fingers under the bra straps and trailed them downwards to the middle of her back.  Winnie felt the first physical bit of arousal as she knew that before long Dominique’s hands would be passing over the smooth skin of her bottom, her legs and every centimeter of what she would find in between.

Winnie moistened and bit her lower lip as Dominique unfastened the bar strap, delicately sliding the shoulder straps outward until her bra fell from her frame.  Placing her hand on the back of Winnie’s neck, Dominique slid her palm down her spine while lightly pressing forward and encouraging Winnie to bend over.  Falling for the irresistible desire to submit, Winnie arched her back and lied the top half of her body on the table, resting her belly, breast and the side of her face on the soft material of the nightie.

And then the enveloped hold at Winnie’s waist gave way as Dominique unzipped the back of the girl’s skirt, sliding it down her legs to her ankles.  Winnie softly whimpered and she felt her arousal begin to swell.

“That’s my good little girl,” Dominique whispered, continuing to fill Winnie’s mind with a new dirty little secret to replace the one gone.

Dominique stood close behind her and placed her hand on her new bargirl’s hips, slipping her thumbs inside the sides of the waistband of Winnie’s panties.  Then Dominique slowly knelt, rolling the waist band down and continuing to slowly roll the panties down from Winnie’s center.  If asked – or better – if told, Winnie would have parted her legs and offered Dominique the only thing left that hadn’t been taken from her. 

Arousal swelled her and she felt herself dripping, lightly gasping at the coolness that rushed over her labia as Dominique rolled the panties down her legs.  Trying not to give in to want before Dominique demanded, Winnie pressed her sweetness harder against the edge of the table – relieving some of the building arousal but only enough to prevent her whimpers of sensation to become her moans of fantasy.

For the second time that day, Winnie had made her panties wet.  This time, however, she wasn’t embarrassed for the reason.  But as with her wake-up that morning, she was receptive to how it took her out of her comfort zone and put her in a new place – far more comforting because of Dominique.  Being made to stand up and turned around, Winnie slowly absorbed the effects of her nakedness and her inability to resist.  As Dominique embraced her, Winnie opened her lips and tried to whisper the word Mommy, but couldn’t make any sound.  Instead, she closed her eyes, taking in the gentle touch and the rocking which cradled her heart.  Dominique wasn’t love and she wasn’t lust.  She was both and the presence of everything else. 

Being led into the bathroom, Winnie took small steps, following her and stopping at the doorway to see her bathtub filled with bubbles.  Dominique lowered the lights to allow the little red candles along the back of the bathtub to cast a soft, orange glow across the room.  She walked Winnie over to the tub with a guidance designed to preserve an innocence that Winnie may have harbored.

“In ya go,” Dominique said with sweetness, patting Winnie’s bottom for encouragement and then praise.

Stepping into the bubbles, Winnie feet felt the warm water.  It wasn’t too hot and had kept its temperature with its bubbly cover.  Her shoulders shrunk up and she crossed her arms in front of her as Dominique placed a supportive hand on her back and helped her sit into the bath.  Winnie closed her eyes as the warmth of the water rushed over her body, up her legs and front, down her back and across her shoulders.  Muscle stress melted away and she relaxed her neck on a small towel placed on the back edge of the tub.  Tears came to her eyes for how wonderful the bath felt.

Dominique knelt alongside the tub, dipping a tan washcloth into the warm water and placing her hand on the back of Winnie’s neck.

“I don’t want you to worry about anything tonight, Winnie,” Dominique said with a lower tone, just assertive enough to make Winnie listen as opposed to speak. 

She drew the washcloth up in her hand and began to remove the make-up from Winnie’s face.

“Tonight, I don’t want you think about the things that you want out of life,” Dominique said with continued sweetness, but also continued assertiveness.  “Take the next few minutes to think about things you already have in life.  And then clear your mind of everything.”

Dominique got up and left the bathroom.  Winnie remained motionless, hearing her moving things around in the other rooms.  The task of clearing her mind wasn’t easy.  But it felt wonderful to reflect.  Winnie did it often, but she had never been told to do it before.  She thought back to her life in Kansas and was surprised that no one had pitched any Wizard of Oz clichés at her yet.  She thought of how she worked hard to excel in community college to make the grades to be accepted at LSU.  She thought of how she would have no student loans to pay back and would be able to start from scratch with greater ease than most others who graduated into debt.  She thought of how she had led a happy life and how she wasn’t haunted with bad memories.  Her father had always protected her from harm.  Now in New Orleans, Winnie had Dominique to protect her, but Dominique was also teaching her how to protect herself.

And as if Dominique knew that Winnie’s thoughts had led to her, she returned to the bathroom, sitting on the toilet lid and opening a window.

“The first time I fell in love, I thought it would last my whole life,” Dominique said suddenly, then lighting a cigarette and blowing her first mouthful of smoke out the window as she looked across the night time sky line of the French Quarter.  “Derek was his name.  He sat next to me in my 8th grade science class.  A lot of guys tried to sit next to me, but he was the only one who didn’t sit next to me to cheat off my homework and on tests.”

Winnie opened her eyes and looked over at Dominique’s silhouette as she continued reflecting on past matters of her heart.

“I remember he used to make me laugh and he never asked anything of me,” Dominique said, pausing to take in another drag from her cigarette.  “He loved playing sports, but would also become the valedictorian of our class, got a full-ride to go to the University of Michigan, but he turned it down.”

Winnie listened closely to the story, being drawn in by it and wanting her to speed up to the end to find out who this guy was and where he is now.  But she kept quiet.

“Instead of going to college, he decided to play baseball,” Dominique recalled.  “He never got married, but became a millionaire because he could play sports so well.”

Winnie placed her hands on her belly, running her finger up and down her skin.

“I bought my first vibrator because of him,” Dominique said with a smile of embarrassment.  “I used to watch him every night on TV and then go to bed and feverishly drill the fantasies of him-n-me into my dreams.”

Winnie hands traveled down between her legs, her palms pressing into her hood and her fingertips teasing the outer lips of her labia.

“I used to get wet, just thinking about him and about what it would’ve been like to be his wife, to climb in bed with him every night and to share our lives with each other,” Dominique said, putting out her cigarette in the ashtray on the window ledge.  “Derek made me feel so good, just the fantasy of him was all I needed to orgasm.”

Dominique stood up and walked over to the side of the tub, kneeling down and picking up the wash cloth.  Winnie lowered her hands to her sides and sat up at Dominique’s insistence.

“If I had only dreamt of what the future would be like with him, I would’ve been sad,” Dominique said, washing her back before easing her back to a lying position and taking the wash cloth to her arms.  “But by thinking about what I actually had with him, I was able to remember a lot of erotic feelings that got me through tough times in my life.”

Dominique took the washcloth up Winnie’s arms and across her sternum.

“It was easy to keep him in a happy place in my thoughts because he never married.  I knew I would’ve been jealous of her,” Dominique said, washing Winnie’s neckline and traveling down to her chest.

Dominique’s touch was as loving as her story and as soft as that nightie on the kitchen table.  Winnie tingled beneath the water, but found her arousal subsiding as she knew that she didn’t need to take advantage of opportunities.  Those opportunities would always be there, but the present moment would only happen once.

“We’ve stay in touch, he and I.  And when I told him of my divorce and my desire to break free and do what I always wanted to do, he’s the one who gave me the money to do it,” Dominique said, taking the wash cloth to Winnie’s calves.  “I took his money and told him I would pay him back and I did.  It took me the first two years of bar business to do it, but I paid him every cent he loaned me.”

Dominique’s hands made their way with the wash cloth up to the soft skin of Winnie’s inner thighs.  She smiled at the girl in her tub, seeing the mesmerized gaze looking up at her.  Dominique continued the wash cloth up between Winnie’s legs, lifting her to wash her bottom.  Winnie never rocked her hips, nor pressed her mound into the cloth.  This wasn’t for a lack of want on her part.  Rather, it was the first sign Winnie was learning the needs which must be in place first.

“Now you’re being a good girl,” Dominique said with sweetness.

Her words melted Winnie’s heart and for the first time in her life, she didn’t fear how wild horses could trample her dreams.  Dominique let the water out of the tub and helped Winnie to her feet, wrapping a towel around her and walking her out of the bathroom and over to Dominique’s bed. 

“There ya go,” Dominique said, holding Winnie close while easing her onto her back on the mattress.  “Instead of wishing for the future, I want you to enjoy how this very moment will guide you where you need to go.”

Winnie laid there for a few minutes as she dried inside the towel.  And she never broke the gaze she shared with Dominique.  She truly didn’t want to skip to the ecstasy at the end without feeling all the emotions along the way.  She would be cheating the love she felt for Dominique if she didn’t know for sure that Dominique felt as deeply.  And for once, insecurity seemed like it was about to take a second place to certainty.  Waiting all her life would’ve been for naught, if she had done it for lust, not love. But then again, a lifetime of wanting and waiting had already served its purpose.  She was here and love was calling to her.

Her mind bounced back and forth between littleness and arousal, only to produce a conflicting new torment.  Winnie wanted to fuss, maybe even cry.  Crying felt good … when she was done, but after Dominique had just spent so much time relaxing her and sharing with her a piece of her past, Winnie didn’t fuss.  She still felt helpless as to how she should feel at the moment and she looked up at Dominique for guidance.  She was exposed of all her secrets and everything else she couldn’t say but was still evident in the twinkle of her eyes.  Because of this, she not only needed Dominique but had begun to cling to her dominance for survival.

Little did Winnie realize, just then, Dominique had pieced together enough of Winnie’s thoughts to give her something she could only dream about for the future.  Winnie had never regressed and therefore couldn’t reflect on it, happily.  That was about to change.

Dominique opened the towel off Winnie’s front, reached under the bed, picked up a shopping bag and set it on the pillows at the head board.  Winnie looked at the bag, not knowing the store name written on it, but blinking as she saw the nightie lying on the pillows as well.

Her eyes grew big and wide as Dominique sat her up and picked up the nightie.  Winnie threw her hands to the sky as the nightie was slid down onto her frame, fitting it comfortably and allowing Winnie time to plump and readjust herself to comfort.  Then Dominique reached inside the bag and took out a stuffed animal.  Winnie’s eyes grew wide again.  It wasn’t just any stuffed animal.  It was Winnie the Pooh.

Embracing the Pooh bear, Winnie laid back down and rolled from side to side, entering into a joyful bit of littleness.  She closed her eyes, hugging her Pooh bear and smiling from ear to ear.  Then she felt a rubber nipple entering her lips.  She opened her eyes and looked up at Dominique with a sudden hope of fantasy realized.  Dominique smiled and placed the pacifier in her mouth.  Winnie’s heart began to pound.  Her tummy began to flutter with butterflies.  She tingled from head to toe.  Nursing on her pacifier, she did her best to calm herself down.

But then, she heard a rustling noise and looked over at the bag to see Dominique’s hand lift a diaper out of it.  Winnie gushed.  She could no longer control herself.  Her legs began to wiggle and she drew the fantasies of her past into the present, waiting for what the future would feel like. Dominique unfolded the diaper and placed it flat on the bed next to Winnie.  The fidgety girl drew her knees up as Dominique took out a small bottle of powder and slid the diaper into place beneath her.

The sweet, sweet scent filled the air and with Dominique’s gentle fingertips spreading it across her bottom, Winnie’s mind completed the journey towards being nothing but mush.  She nursed on her pacifier and held her Pooh bear tight as Dominique tapped the outside of her thighs.  Without a second thought or moment of hesitation, Winnie parted her thighs for Dominique and felt that silky wonderful feel of powder across her front and between her legs.

Winnie was in her own little Heaven and as the nurturing glow on Dominique’s face deepened to maternal, Winnie felt the front of the diaper being drawn up into place.  Dominique fastened the tapes at Winnie’s hips as the adorable little bargirl melted further into the mattress.  There was no need to pinch herself.  This was real and only getting better by the moment.

Dominique tossed the shopping bag to the side, positioned one of the pillows vertically against the headboard and leaned up against it before summoning Winnie onto her lap.  Again without hesitation, Winnie got up onto her hands and knees, crawling from the middle of the bed up onto Dominique’s lap and into the cradle of her arms.

From the nightstand next to her bed, Dominique picked up a baby bottle, resting Winnie’s neck in the crook of her left arm before taking the pacifier from the girl’s lips and putting the nipple of the bottle in its place.  Winnie rested up against Dominique’s body, relishing in her warmth as she closed her lips around the nipple and drew in a mouthful of warm milk.  Words were useless at that point.  You either felt it & knew it or it didn’t exist at all.  She had waited a long time to come this close to that place between Big and little where she knew she belonged. 

Dominique rocked Winnie back and forth slowly, keeping their gaze constant and glowing with a found happiness herself.  Winnie wasn’t much for deep thoughts, just then – except to know that for now, her wild horses had been tamed.

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 The Mommy Grats

Mommy Grats - Boy Toy 1 Mommy Grats - Boy Toy 2 Mommy Grats - Boy Toy 3 Mommy Grats - Boy Toy 4 Mommy Grats - Boy Toy 5
     Boy Toy          Boy Toy 2          Boy Toy 3         Boy Toy 4        Boy Toy 5

      Crush 1               Crush 2

Mommy Grats - Girl Power 1
  Girl Power     

      Creole 1              Creole 2             Creole 3

    Pathway 1         Pathway 2




5 responses to “Taming Wild Horses

  1. Pingback: Taming Wild Horses – Part 2 of 4 | zorroabdaddy.com

  2. Pingback: Taming Wild Horses – Part 3 of 4 | zorroabdaddy.com

  3. Pingback: Taming Wild Horses – Part 4 of 4 | zorroabdaddy.com

  4. Pingback: The Mommy Grats: Girl Power 2 | zorroabdaddy.com

  5. Pingback: Instinct – Part One of Two | zorrodaddy.com

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