here is the first of a three-part story about knowing how to keep secrets, but also knowing when it’s time live beyond them.
No More Secrets –
Have you ever wanted something so badly that you couldn’t stop thinking about it, perhaps beginning to obsess over it beyond the point of want and going directly to need? And when in that state, you realize that, no matter what you do, you can’t have that thing which you need. The reasons may be as simple as location or opportunity or they may be as complicated as having no privacy – especially when you suddenly found yourself in the limelight of all.
Such was the situation for Chelsea, a sweet girl born in Boston who led a regular, uneventful life – until the day she became a singer. No, it wasn’t through some elimination singer’s contest on TV. She got the opportunity to sing for a record label executive and, overnight her ordinary life became extraordinary – releasing her first album and climbing to the top of the charts globally. She would never be the same, becoming insanely rich and living her life in the limelight, from that point forward.
Weekend getaways with friends and first dates were replaced by tour dates. And though her money worries were a welcomed thing of her past, wealth came at a price. Her second album included many songs that spoke of the transition, from “Wear These Shoes” to “Share My Life With You” – a song that wasn’t about love, but rather, how no shred of privacy existed in her new world – the price of fame, the price of wealth. So as with many celebrities, Chelsea found it to be very lonely at the top – contrary to what her fans believed. Oh, she had tons of fan mail to make her feel wanted, but no one to make her feel needed. And money was no substitute for a real and literal bedfellow. Perhaps it was this nightly reminder that enabled Chelsea to never forget who she was before the fame, though she easily could’ve forgotten.
Living her limelight life with the same secret she had kept all her life, Obsession truly titled her second album appropriately. Chelsea had a fetish that might well have been more than that. It could’ve been the lifestyle she wanted to live, but she had no way of knowing. And spending all her time touring, there was little chance she would ever know it to be anything more than just a fantasy.
Chelsea had interest in age play, so much so that she obsessed over it. She didn’t have the words to explain what it meant to her, but that didn’t matter. She had no one to talk to about it anyway, though she had only had brushes with adventure where she experienced it, in a sense. She had snuck out of her hotel rooms in the middle of the night a few times, walking to the nearest 24-hour pharmacy to make the nervous purchase of a pack of Depends diapers. Disguised as herself, as opposed to Chelsea Sweet, her singer personality, she bought quite a few items from one pharmacy to the next, from one town to the next on her tour.
One night, bravely perusing the internet and lurking the usual fetish sites, she decided to make a profile but not put any pictures of herself up. She couldn’t. She couldn’t risk losing her singing career. It was all that made her ordinary life extraordinary. And the ridicule alone would destroy, if anyone ever knew that she was the girl behind the username BabyLove86. The embarrassment, humiliation and shame would be too much for her handle. If the world-famous Chelsea Sweet were ever exposed, she would be globally out-casted. Age play was just simply too taboo to ever go mainstream. Chelsea would only ever be able to enjoy it through late-night secret pharmacy missions as well as online.
Inside of a few days, that gender letter of “F” had put more messages in her email inbox than she would ever have time to read and answer. Having become accustomed to tons of emails from her fans of music, she accepted that there would always be people who never received a reply back from and, consequently, there would always be people who got angry that she didn’t reply back to them – some going so far as to send her a second email to tell her how upset they were that she ignored them.
But most of the emails she received were so poorly written she couldn’t figure out what the reply back with anyway. And then there were the gross ones from guys who were clearly looking for sexual encounters. There were even some from people who didn’t seem to match who she was looking for and it seemed like they hadn’t even read her profile before contacting her. There were some who would send the exact same message to her every few days, as if it was a form letter sent out to many people. Some were pushy. Some were needy. Some even sounded desperate. But none of them gave her the one thing she really needed before she could pursue anything else – compelling conversation.
And there were times when she felt it a little unfair that she received so many messages from people. It made it impossible to sift through and find the few emails that, perhaps, might have be sent by the right Daddy in a sea of options. But Chelsea, or as she was known on the fetish sites, BabyLove86, was going to indulge in her obsession in every way that she safely could. It was all she could hope and she was going to enjoy it. So she began replying to a few emails from self-proclaimed Daddies. Most of her replies went unanswered, but a few would write back to her, making it clear that they had nothing exciting to type beyond their first emails to her.
Then she abandoned her emails, perusing the sites and member profiles with purposes other than just merely lurking to what was out there. Now, she wanted to see who was out there. And in her searches, she uncovered a lot of unique usernames the guys chose from themselves. Some made her laugh like ChubALub and DaddyDudeTastic. Some made her cringe like GreatGasDaddy and HairyPapaBear. And some others made her groan for their conceded nature like ThickLongNSatisfying and HerDrinkingStraw.
But it was when she came across his username that she paused. Looking at the word DaddyLove84, Chelsea had no idea that this would be the guy who would change her life again. She began as ordinary. Her singing voice made everything extraordinary. And he would take extraordinary to a level complete.
He was only two years older than her, according to his profile. But seemed to be there on that site for many reasons. He commented on discussions, had friends that he messaged and seemed to be known. None of this sold Chelsea right away, but she followed him on that site for a few days, watching what he posted, how he worded his sentences and what subjects he commented on. She still wasn’t sold on him, having heard from a lot of guys who presented themselves well at first, only to falter with consistency soon thereafter.
So, she decided to be the aggressor, sending him a message first, telling him she was new to the site and was looking to get to know people. But he didn’t reply back right away, like all the others had done. And after two days of waiting, she certainly made a list of reasons why he hadn’t written back, from a lack of interest on his part to his profile being fake to the possibility that he might be attached already to the possibility that he was gay to the possibility that he had looked at her profile and wasn’t interested.
So, Chelsea took a picture of herself in a diaper and a baby-t. It was one of those self-pictures, taken with her cell phone in the mirror of her hotel bathroom – with the flash of her phone perfectly covering her face while still showing enough of her golden locks to entice.
It was perfect, still concealing her identity and helping her to keep her secret. So, she posted it on her profile and oh my, did the messages pour in, some of them coming from girls as well as guys this time. The messages were more sexual than the previous, some only commenting on how good she looked. But DaddyLove84 still hadn’t messaged her back yet.
Giving up, she returned her focus to her tour and to her music and to her fans, but her obsession began to make her check her cell phone throughout each day, hoping that he would get back to her. But still nothing. So she started getting more involved, commenting on some of the postings he had made replies to and it wasn’t until she checked his profile again that she made the discovery that it didn’t look like he had been on the site at all in a few days.
Great! He must’ve been a ghost, leaving a profile that actually interested her and doing so only to taunt her and torment her. And when her frustration finally began to peak, he suddenly replied, explaining that he hadn’t checked out the site in a few days, having been away from home – busy with his line of work. While those days of waiting were more than just a little frustrating, she was quite relieved when he responded and gave her the first hint of the full life he led. It also served her as a good lesson learned to not jump to conclusions.
So they began sharing messages, sometimes multiple messages per day. They talked of everything in the world, except age play. And Chelsea had, at long last, found someone with compelling ability to talk. And when she felt comfortable enough she gave him her Skype address and they set a date for the coming weekend to talk.
It was now Saturday Night, about 1 am. And though she was exhausted from the packed arena performance of that evening, she found her second wind when she got back to the hotel room. Hopping in the shower, she did the full-body hair removal thing, from the neck down – not certain if she would ever turn to Skype webcam on, but being ready if she felt brave later on when talking to him.
It was an awful risk even having given him her Skypename, but he knew it anyway. It was the same as her fetish username, BabyLove86. In and out of confidence her mind past as she took that shower, toweling herself off afterwards and doing the full treatment of her hair and make-up, as if she were preparing for the beginning of the day. Again, she might’ve just wasted some foundation and eye shadow, but if she turned that cam on, she wanted to take his breath away.
Putting her golden locks into pigtails, she began to wonder if he would find her attractive, if her wiles would do to his senses what they were supposed to do. Slipping into a white halter-top, attached behind her neck and with a flouncy navel-length beneath her bust, she decided that her first Skype session with him wasn’t going to be a peep show. If he wanted to see her boobies, he would have to earn the right.
Then she thought about what he might look like. She hoped he would have a strong jaw line and a chiseled face with piercing blue eyes and a muscular torso. But if he didn’t, she really wouldn’t have cared. It was his words that had wooed her and it was his words that she thought about when going to sleep at night. She just hoped that he would like her and if she knew what to change about herself, she would do it in a heartbeat.
Running out of the bathroom, she jumped up in the air, squealing with joy as she landed on the bed, quickly lied down, put herself in a diaper and then slid her feet-n-legs into a pair of rainbow-striped knee-high socks. She opened her lap top, picked up her teddy bear, picked up her blanket and slipped the rubber nipple of her white pacifier between her lips.
Turning on and logging on to Skype, she looked at the time at the bottom right hand corner of her laptop screen. And for once in her life, she was actually early for something. Perhaps that was the first sign that DaddyLove84 was someone who meant something to her and someone she was growing attached to. But she still didn’t know if she would ever turn the microphone on or the webcam as they messaged. She would have to wait and see. This whole thing was still very, very risky. DaddyLove84 knew that her first name was Chelsea, but he didn’t know that she was Chelsea Sweet, the rocking singer who had taken the world by storm.
And then it happened. DaddyLove84 logged on to Skype and with nervous shaky fingers, a heavily pounding heart and a belly that was hosting a ferocious waltz of tummyflies, she took her status off of invisible, but only for him.
And then she waited, breathlessly and nervously. Would he like her? Would he find attractive? Would he be as compelling to talk to in person as he had been with his messages and emails? And if she liked him, how would she ever tell him who she really was?
Sitting criss-cross applesauce, she got a bit pouty in her thoughts. It didn’t seem fair that ordinary people had only to keep the secret of their fetishes, yet Chelsea had to also keep the secret of her identity. Why should she be deprived of the opportunities that came her way? Why did she have to keep so many secrets?
Then, he began to type, her eyes drawn to a stare at the message “DaddyLove84 is typing…” And quickly, his message popped up.
DaddyLove84: Hello BabyGirl.
Chelsea bounced up-n-down, scared to death to reply back but also more excited than she had ever been in her life. No more secrets. This was the way it had be if she was going to live life, instead of just being. No more secrets. And with trembling determination, she typed back to him.
BabyLove86: hello daddy.DaddyLove84: Did everything go well tonight? BabyLove86: yeah went good.
Oh my, if he actually knew what she did for a living and that he had probably seen her on television countless times, he might well have turned the other way and run – not because she was a celebrity but rather, because he probably wouldn’t have believed her. How often do you randomly meet a celebrity in life – especially under these terms?DaddyLove84: You tired? BabyLove86: a little but im ok. DaddyLove84: You still wanna Skype for a bit? BabyLove86: yeah for sure.
Chelsea’s head was spinning. Could she actually go through with this? But she wanted to so badly. She wanted to tell him everything. She wanted to trust him.DaddyLove84: I’m sure you’re also exhausted by every guy in the world contacting you, huh? BabyLove86: ugh. they are so ridiculous. BabyLove86: i mean why would they take the time to write me a message and ask me to be someone im not? BabyLove86: some of them were nice. dont get me wrong but I’m not right for them and there not right for me. BabyLove86: *they’re DaddyLove84: Hope, I suppose, is what makes them write to you, even though they know that you probably won’t be interested. But their hearts were in the right places, at least those who were respectful in what they wrote. Perhaps, if nothing else, some of them would be great friends. BabyLove86: oh im totally okay with that. actually its kinda neat thinking about having a bunch of diapered boys as friends. BabyLove86: the pictures they put up are really cute. i gotta admit. BabyLove86: so are there more little boys than daddies? DaddyLove84: Online, it seems so. Did you find any more crazy usernames in your searches? BabyLove86: no. BabyLove86: but thats what made you stand out. your name was so close to mine. DaddyLove84: Yeah, that is kinda interesting, isn’t it?
Chelsea was going crazy. Enough with chit chat already!BabyLove86: daddymasonlove. why did your parents name you mason? DaddyLove84: My parents are descendants of free masons. LOL It’s actually one of many jobs I do as well. And why did your parents name you Chelsea? BabyLove86: its my grandmas name on my dads side. so what does an independent contractor do anyway? DaddyLove84: Well … the jobs vary from one site to the next. I’ve been doing it so long that I do every job, from construction to dry walling to painting. It’s a boring job but it pays the bills and then some. So what does a little BabyGirl mean when she says she’s in the “entertainment” industry? Are you an actress?
Chelsea’s heart skipped a few beats, not just because of the question, but because he called her a BabyGirl.
Chelsea lied down on her side and hugged her teddy bear, already being overcome with tummyflies before he ever started typing.
Chelsea shrunk up her shoulders and curled up into the fetal position, smiling as she continued reading – her tummy fluttering away.
Chelsea rolled over onto her back, kicking her legs in the air and trying not to alert anyone else by making too much noise. This was incredible! She was actually talking to a real Daddy! And he was really nice! She could only imagine what it would feel like in real life. Oh, the thought was too much to allow to keep swimming around inside her head. It would never happen. It couldn’t. She couldn’t risk it. So, thinking about it did her no good at all. But she couldn’t stop thinking about it. How could she not think about it? It was everything her fantasy was made of. And she had given millions of people fantasies with her songs and her videos and everything. Why, why couldn’t she have this one little fantasy for herself?
But seconds led to more seconds and more time to think. And her fantasies welled up inside her, getting her juices flowing and making her tingle between her legs. Should she ask Mason if it’s sexual for him at all? What if it wasn’t sexual for him? Would it be okay with him if it was sexual for her but not for him? Or would he never speak to her again? Oh this was horrible, but at the same time, it was wonderful.
Thank God he was back! If he had left her alone with her thoughts any longer amount of time, she would’ve likely talked herself out of this. Ugh. He needed to be more careful. This was very clear! She was too impulsive and couldn’t be trusted with her desires, not yet, anyway.
Chelsea tingled all over. The thought of being babied up and taken out into public was intoxicating. Oh, what a thrill it would be.BabyLove86: i think it would be fun to go out in public. people wouldnt have to know i was in a diaper, but you and i would konw. BabyLove86: *know DaddyLove84: But we would wind up at home where I’d leave you to play a little while as I prepared your lunch. Are you ready to hear about the lunch? BabyLove86: and dressing somewhat juvenile isnt really a big deal. its very accepted for girls it seems. BabyLove86: yes, yes, yes! whats for lunch? DaddyLove84: Keeping in mind this is a dream scenario, right? BabyLove86: yes thats fine BabyLove86: dont worry so much DaddyLove84: Okay. Lunch time would include you being stripped down to just your diaper (and t-shirt if you prefer, but I don’t prefer it). I then place you in a high chair, and spoon feed you your lunch. It will be something warm, tasty, and filling. And there would need to be a bib on you as you would be bouncing all over the place for sure. DaddyLove84: Now … I do worry about this next part. I’ll have to be honest with you. BabyLove86: ok BabyLove86: tell me DaddyLove84: This is the big one! DaddyLove84: As a little girl, have you ever pondered not just wearing the diapers, but using them? And be honest about it. BabyLove86: well yeah DaddyLove84: How so? BabyLove86: oooh you mean for everything? DaddyLove84: It’s fine either way, but I need to know up front. BabyLove86: well i’d be ok with it as long as the guy wouldnt be grossed out, but it wouldnt be a necessity. BabyLove86: i would just feel bad if the guy did it, and felt badly about having to change me, you know? DaddyLove84: That’s considerate, but remember that I’m the Daddy who actually wants you to do this. I’m not grossed out by much of anything about a female. BabyLove86: then yes, i’d want to. i’d be shy about it at first, but it would definitely make me feel little. DaddyLove84: So, what makes it even more perfect is the sight of a girl laying there in front of me in a diaper that needs to be changed. I untape it and open it up. You are exposed, and need to be tended to, which I will do, with no hesitation – no matter what I find. DaddyLove84: This, of course, is the event that would take place some time after lunch since you haven’t done so all morning. (But if you do, the diaper change takes place earlier.) Anyway, now the time for toys is upon us. The toys are your choice, but we play on the carpet of your Nursery. DaddyLove84: I would also have a “sippy” cup which I’d delight in seeing you drink from. At some point, in the afternoon, your eyes will get heavy and it will be nap time. DaddyLove84: Just like the baby girl that you are, you’ll be dressed for a nap and laid in your crib on your tummy. A pacifier for soothing, and an hour or so to sleep. BabyLove86: 😀 DaddyLove84: I’d wake you up and we spend a little more time on the couch talking, playing, watching TV, etc. before dinner. It’s at this point that I think we’d stop for a while, returning to adulthood, maybe taking the evening to do something (a movie, roller skating, whatever). DaddyLove84: We return home, and you return to infancy. It is now when your bath takes place. This s a long drawn out affair. The bathroom is soaked by the end, but you are soothed, relaxed, and feel wonderful from head to toe. The remainder of the night is spent winding down. You are dressed for bed. We eventually do go to bed. And sometime after you are asleep, I’ll scoop you up and place you in your crib. At some point in the early a.m. I check your diaper. THE END. LOL BabyLove86: yays! (clapping) i know i like to feel like a little girl, to be talked to like one, but not always – just sometimes. BabyLove86: i love my diapers, but ive only had the ability to get the Depends kind. This whole thing has to remain a secret. BabyLove86: but i always like to feel submissive and not in control. – its the opposite of what my line of work requires. DaddyLove84: It sounds like your work never slows down much. BabyLove86: rarely do I get a break from it. DaddyLove84: I wish I had that problem. BabyLove86: what do you mean? DaddyLove84: Well, next month, there isn’t much work available. So I get laid off for a few weeks. BabyLove86: what do you do then? DaddyLove84: I relax and enjoy the break, I guess. Sometimes, I spend a week or so in my Uncle’s cabin. BabyLove86: oh, right. the one just outside of denver, you emailed me about the other day. DaddyLove84: Yep. In Evergreen, Colorado with the Rockies in the backyard. BabyLove86: it sounds wonderful, so peaceful and quiet. BabyLove86: maybe I could spend some time with you there. DaddyLove84: Any time you want. I’ll be there a lot next month. LOL BabyLove86: oh i wish i could. DaddyLove84: Well, if you ever change your mind, the offer stands. BabyLove86: i think i’d be too nervous to meet someone in real life. DaddyLove84: Why? BabyLove86: just a girly insecurity thing. thats all. DaddyLove84: Insecurity can be overcome. Even if we never meet, that’s something to control. BabyLove86: Mason, i’m a girl. insecurity is my life. DaddyLove84: I won’t argue with you, but would you be willing to read something, if I gave you the link to it? BabyLove86: sure what is it? DaddyLove84: It’s one guy’s perspective on how to take what you feel inside and use it to control things like insecurity. And you do this by remembering something you may have forgotten. BabyLove86: a guy wrote this? DaddyLove84: Yeah. BabyGirl86: ok. i’ll read it anyway. lol what’s the link and what’s it about? DaddyLove84: It’s a blog posting about re-learning the way you used to feel. Here’s the link: http://wp.me/p1FpDN-2H
Chelsea opened the link to a webpage and quickly skimmed over what was written there. But as she read it, she slowed down and took in what it was saying.
Chelsea turned the mic on her computer on.
“Hello? Mason?” Chelsea said softly and sweetly, waiting for his reply as she quickly re-read the post.
“Hello Chelsea,” she heard, his voice having such a soothing, deep timbre that she melted at its sound. “You have a sweet voice. I can hear why people would want to listen to you sing. Do you perform at a specific theater?”
“No,” Chelsea said softly, blushing at his comment. “I go from one place to the next t sing.”
“Oh, one of those traveling troops of actors, huh?” Mason said.
“Something like that,” Chelsea said, a grin forming on her face – one that he couldn’t see yet since she hadn’t decided if she was going to tempt fate by turning on her webcam. “So, may I ask you another question?”
“Absolutely,” Mason said with a kindness in his tone that echoed in her ears.
“What does a Daddy get out of it?” Chelsea said, sitting up and tilting her head to the side in thought. “I mean, I can clearly see what a girl would get out of being a BabyGirl, but what does the Daddy get out of it? It seems like a lot of work.”
“It is a lot of work,” Mason admitted. “But it gives a Daddy that sense of purpose.”
“I don’t understand,” Chelsea said, drawing her legs up and wrapping her arms around them while resting her chin on her knee caps. “I guess I fear that it would be something that only I got enjoyment out of. There would be no reason for a guy to keep coming back if he didn’t get something out of it for himself.”
“Let me explain it another way,” Mason said. “What is it that you want out of a relationship? More specifically, what are the things that you look for in a guy?”
“Um … kindness, stability, confidence and if he were cute, that wouldn’t hurt his chances,” Chelsea said with a giggle.
“You are adorable, BabyGirl. I can tell already,” Mason said. “Now, tell me why those qualities are the ones that you most look for in a guy?”
Chelsea spun her pacifier around in a circle, her pointer finger inside the little plastic handle. She stuck her tongue into her right cheek as she thought about it.
“I don’t know why those things appeal to me,” Chelsea admitted. ‘But I know that they definitely are what I look for in a guy.”
“Kindness, stability and confidence are all things that will make you feel comfortable around him,” Mason said. “A girl wants to feel cherished by a guy so she feels more important to him than anything else in his world. And a guy wants to feel needed by a girl so he feels that, in her world, he will always …”
“… have a purpose,” Chelsea said, completing his thought and suddenly understanding more clearly. “So a guy just wants to know that a girl is needy?”
“No,” Mason said, laughing. “A guy wants to know that, what that girl wanted, she got from him.”
“Ohhhh,” Chelsea said, playfully. “I see how it is.”
“Now, let me rock your mind a little bit more,” Mason said. “In a vanilla relationship, you meet someone. You learn their qualities and flaws and you see if you match up to him. If you do, you stay with him. If you don’t, you move on to the next. But whomever you wind up with, you settle in to life with them. And the reason why is because you and he not only grew comfortable with each other, but you found the other half of something that was perfect for you.”
“Okay,” Chelsea said, listening as she started to chew on the rubber nipple of her pacifier.
“Now … in a non-vanilla relationship, you learn things about each other that aren’t often revealed,” Mason said. “The wife doesn’t have to hide her copy of that 50 Shades book from her husband, only taking it out from under her pillow at night after he has gone to sleep.”
“Okay,” Chelsea mumbled into her pacifier, quickly taking it out of her mouth and clearing her throat. “So where do Daddies and BabyGirls fall into this scale?”
“They don’t,” Mason said. “They create their own scale. It is one that includes the best of everything else and it intensifies it to a level that is dynamic.”
“Can you give me an example?” Chelsea asked, intrigued as she re-read the blog again.
“Sure,” Mason said. “It’s about paying attention to a degree that you normally don’t. And from studying the details, you can actually figure out what a BabyGirl is going to think before she thinks it herself.”
“Shut up,” Chelsea said, laughing.
“It’s not an exact science and a Daddy doesn’t always guess right, but with time and with patience and with attention, he learns,” Mason said, pausing to allow his words to sink into her thoughts. “You’ve read that blog several times now, haven’t you?”
Chelsea sat up straight, a bit shocked.
“How did you know that?” Chelsea asked, dumbfounded.
“Because you click keys loudly,” Mason said. “And you look at the blog when something we are talking about makes you think of it.”
“How do you know these things?” Chelsea asked.
“I don’t know them. I’m guessing,” Mason answered. “And if you keep chewing on your pacifier nipples the way you do, you’re eventually going to bite through them.”
Chelsea’s eyes grew big-n-wide.
“Especially since you need to nurse on them when a deep thought enters your mind or a moment of … insecurity enters your current thoughts,” Mason answered, Chelsea’s heart pounding as he continued. “You’re probably in pigtails right now. Am I right?”
“Yes,” Chelsea answered, gasping for air. “How did you know that?”
“Because of the way you spoke of pigtails,” Mason answered. “Pigtails are fun and pigtails make you feel little. The same way the diaper you’re wearing right now makes you feel … unless your hotel bed has plastic sheets on it. Of course, if it did have plastic sheets on it every time you curled up into a ball or lied down on your tummy, the crinkles would’ve been much louder.”
Chelsea waited breathlessly for his next words of surprise, his voice remaining calm, soothing and with a timbre that melted her as if she was made of butter.
“What’s the name of your stuffed animal?” Mason asked.
“Cuddles,” Chelsea said, putting her pacifier in her mouth and hugging her brown teddy bear.
“It’s okay, Princess,” Mason said softly. “Cuddles love you very much, too. He’s the only one that’s always been there for you.”
“I’m so scared that if the wrong people find out about this side of me, that they’ll out me in some way,” Chelsea mumbled behind her pacifier, beginning to rock back-n-forth as she took greater notice to her own crinkle.
Littleness began to set into all her senses and that hotel room began to feel enormous in size.
“You’ve done well in protecting your identity. But I can understand what your job in the public eye makes you think about protecting yourself from ridicule,” Mason said softly. “Someday, you’ll feel comfortable. And it’s then that you’ll realize that there’s insecurity and then there’s white-hot attention.”
Chelsea looked down at the blog again, thinking about how insecurity had always been her safety net, if not her excuse for avoiding the pursuit of her fantasies-turned-obsessions. And clearly, she was talking with a Daddy who knew how to pay attention to her. With a trembling hand, she reached out and turned on her webcam, quickly burying her face behind Cuddles the teddy bear before the webcam switched on.
“Aww, look at the shy little baby,” Mason said with such a syrupy-thick Daddy Voice that she welcomed the beginning of the final act of The Great Waltz of Tummyflies – currently onstage inside her belly.
She felt that tingle between her legs and a wonderful sensation of littleness rushed into her thoughts and down her entire frame. She rocked back-n-forth, incapable of lifting her head up, but no longer for the excuse of hiding her identity. Now, she was so overcome with her fantasies that she couldn’t do anything for herself at all.
“Daddy?” Chelsea mumbled from behind her pacifier and her teddy bear shield.
“Yes, baby?” Mason asked back, softly.
“Are you ready for a surprise?” Chelsea asked.
“Yes,” Mason answered gently.
And with all the courage that her little heart could muster to find, she lifted her chin and lowered Cuddles the teddy bear. Mason’s mouth dropped wide open.
“I … can see why you would need to hide your identity,” Mason struggled to say. “And you’re safe with me. I will tell no one.”
With tears welling up in her eyes, Chelsea smiled.
“Thank you,” she whispered so softly that she was barely audible. “I bet you have a million new questions, huh?”
“A million and one to be exact,” Mason said, Chelsea laughing softly. “But the most important one is the first one I’m going to ask you … How did you get to be so beautiful?”
“Well, I’m not really all that beautiful,” Chelsea stated. “When you become a celebrity, you go through a daily routine of creams, lotions, massages, other skin treatments, a dozen different kinds of shampoo and constant exercise to look your best.”
“BabyGirl, I can tell that you were beautiful before you started doing any of that,” Mason said.
“How can you tell that?” Chelsea asked, blushing at his compliments.
“Because in your smile and in your irises, I can see your heart,” Mason said, smiling at her. “And I can tell that you are still that little girl from …… the New England area, I’m gonna guess – based on that little trace of accent you have yet to lose and probably never will.”
“Do you know who I am now?” Chelsea asked.
“Yes. You are Chelsea Sweet, the girl who exploded onto the music scene with a faster appeal than that Hannah Fontana girl,” Mason answered.
“Montana,” Chelsea corrected him, laughing.
“Right,” Mason said. “But I have to admit that I’ve never listened to a single one of your songs.”
“That’s okay,” Chelsea said, smiling.
“Oh, I wouldn’t worry, though,” Mason said with a laugh. “I’ll be buying all your CDs tomorrow.”
“Well, thank you in advance, then,” Chelsea said, laughing at his silliness.
Mason was really cute. He had a short haircut of brown hair with a light scruff on his face, the strong jawline and piercing eyes she hoped he would have and a tan to his skin that made clear how much he worked outside. She might never tell him, but the truth was: the moment she heard his voice, she got wet. And the moment his webcam turned on, she got wetter still. There were a lot of hot guys who filled her days as a singer and she could have any one of them that she wanted. But she found the one who could see past her beauty and into her soul.
No more secrets. And since her identity was now revealed to him, it was time to make reality out of fantasy.
“Have you ever had a BabyGirl before?” Chelsea asked bravely.
“Yeah,” Mason grunted slightly, reaching behind his back and pulling out the ice pack he had been leaning on. “I had a BabyGirl once.”
“Did you hurt yourself?” Chelsea asked softly, seeing how much pain had come across his face when he shifted in his seat.
“Years ago,” Mason answered. “Now my lower back goes stiff all the time. I’ve just learned to deal with it.”
“Oh,” Chelsea said, her right eyebrow raising at the thought of spending time with him and working those lumbar muscles back to health. “So … what was she like, the BabyGirl you once had?”
“Oh, she was fine,” Mason said, not shying away from the conversation but not plunging into it either.
But he could see the female curiosity in her eyes. So, he initiated the talk.
“We were engaged at one point, but it didn’t work out,” Mason answered, matter-of-factly.
“May I ask why it didn’t work out?” Chelsea cautiously asked, though having legitimate reason to want to know.
“Well, there wasn’t much to it, really,” Mason said freely. “We weren’t a good match.”
Chelsea sat there silently and intended to do so until he answered her question more completely. Sensing this, Mason smiled into laugh.
“Okay,” Mason said, grunting in pain as he sat up in his chair. “Our engagement did exactly what it was supposed to do for us. It showed us that we weren’t meant to be with each other.”
“So did you guys end well, as friends I mean?” Chelsea asked.
“Yes,” Mason answered. “She would get a little nasty a few months later, but that eventually fizzled out, too. We both co-exist in this world just fine.”
“Why did she get nasty?” Chelsea asked, beginning to prod a bit more now.
Mason sighed and then continued answering her.
“A lot of factors at the time, I guess,” Mason answered, continuing to explain now as he knew that, if he didn’t tell her now, she would certainly keep asking in their possible future until he did answer. “She had gotten into a new relationship after we ended. And it was one that was real good for her. But she was so nervous about telling the guy that she loved him that she got upset and mean for a little while.”
“Ahh,” Chelsea exclaimed with a sudden understanding. “And when she needed to get that meanness out of her, she contacted you to do so. Is that about right?”
“Yeah,” Mason answered, shocked that she had guessed so well.
“That doesn’t surprise me,” Chelsea answered with a knowing grin.
“Well, it sure took me by surprise when it happened,” Mason admitted.
“You’re not a girl. That’s why you didn’t see it coming,” Chelsea replied. “You guys were done at that point and it was safe for her to let her guard down with you and to show her nasty side. If she upset you, then it wouldn’t affect her current relationship and she would still get the bad emotions out of her system, which was her purpose all along anyway.”
Mason sat there, blinking his eyes as he tried to process what she had just said.
“She didn’t mean anything the way you took it. Trust me,” Chelsea said, then driving the conversation forward quickly. “Did you two ever make up?”
“No,” Mason admitted.
“Do you want to make up with her?” Chelsea asked.
“No,” Mason answered.
“Why not?” Chelsea asked, already knowing what his response would be, but allowing him to say it anyway without being interrupted.
“Because I don’t want her contacting me every time she feels bad and needs a punching bag,” Mason said, frowning a bit.
“Well, if it makes any difference to you, believe me when I tell you: she never dreamed that the bridge would be burned permanently,” Chelsea said softly, not wanting to delve into the subject anymore and, from the look on his face, wishing she hadn’t pushed him to answer her about it to begin with. “Mason, not all girls are like her.”
“I know,” Mason said, smiling once again. “That’s why we are all individuals. That’s what the word means.”
“Are you one of those Daddies that spanks?” Chelsea asked, thinking up a question that would completely steer them away from the prior subject.
“No,” Mason answered, emphatically. “But I suppose that’s what you’re looking for, right? That seems to be the trend.”
“Oh my goodness, I don’t want that at all!!” Chelsea exclaimed with a laugh. “Well, maybe someday, but not today and not now. Why don’t you like to spank?”
“I get sick to the stomach very easily and the mere idea of giving pain to a girl I am treating like a baby is very unappealing to me,” Mason admitted.
“Good,” Chelsea said, smiling with relief.
“So tell me about your incredible journey, celebrity girl,” Mason said, quite interested to hear her tale.
“Well if you look on YouTube, you can probably find the E Channel documentary they did on me,” Chelsea said, laughing. “But the short version is: My grandmother taught me how to sing. She was the real songbird of the family. My parents named me after her.”
“That’s cute. You were named after Grandma Sweet,” Mason said, smiling.
“No. Sweet is what I changed my last name to when I signed with my first record label,” Chelsea admitted. “I was born Chelsea Starr Lombardi. And before you ask, the answer is no. I’m not related to Vince Lombardi, the football guy. But Vince Lombardi’s grandfather and my great-great grandfather both went through Ellis Island at the same time.”
“Wow, really?” Mason asked.
“Yeah. Do you know the origin of the slang word WOP that is used to describe Italian people?” Chelsea asked. “A lot of Italians left Italy with no identification at all. So when they got to Ellis Island and began to check in, they each had to wear a little piece of paper pinned to their shirts. The slip of paper said W.O.P. on it – which stood for WithOut Papers. They were referred to as WOPs through the immigration process and the slang term stuck with them when they entered America as citizens. That’s a true story.”
“I didn’t know that,” Mason said, grinning ear-to-ear.
“Mason,” Chelsea started, putting her pacifier back in her mouth and nursing on it for a few seconds before taking it back out and laughing.
“Uh oh,” Mason said with a broader grin yet. “I think the little diaper girl is about to say something rather profound.”
“Well, I’m going to ask something that’s rather forward,” Chelsea said, gearing up the courage to ask. “In three weeks, I’m going to be performing at the Pepsi Center in Denver. If I give you the name of the hotel where I’m staying, could you get a room in that hotel for that weekend? I’ll reimburse you the money for the room.”
“Yes and no,” Mason replied.
“Huh?” Chelsea asked, confused by his answer, then putting the pacifier back in her mouth.
“Yes, I will get a room in the hotel. I’ll be in my Uncle’s cabin at that point anyway,” Mason answered. “But no, you don’t need to reimburse me the money. I’ll be just fine.”
Chelsea smiled brightly. How wonderful it felt to not be expected to pay everything for once since she had become insanely rich. It was refreshing, to say the least. And her heart leapt with joy.
“I’d like to meet you in person,” Chelsea mumbled behind her pacifier, her shoulders shrinking up. “And I wanna be your BabyGirl from now on, if you don’t mind the fact that I’m a virgin to being a BabyGirl.”
Mason sat forward, grimacing in pain as he leaned in to the laptop screen.
“BabyLove, I would be the proudest guy in the world to be able to call myself your Daddy. That night, in that hotel room, will be the beginning of something you’ve dreamed about too many nights in your life already without it happening,” Mason whispered with affection. “You will experience diapers far thicker and much more fun than Depends. You will feel a littleness far more intensely than your imagination has made you feel. And you will experience everything that your little heart has always obsessed about.”
Chelsea sat there, speechless. Her face had turned pink with the overwhelming thought of what reality would feel like.
“I think it’s bedtime for BabyGirls, isn’t it?” Mason said with a stern-but-loving Daddy Tone.
“Yes, Daddy,” Chelsea mumbled.
“But before you do go to sleep, make sure to change your diaper,” Mason said with a knowing smile.
Chelsea looked down between her legs to see she had wet herself quite a bit. Her eyes grew big-n-wide as she looked back up at him, her face pinkened with embarrassment and her little heart gushing for more.
There were no more secrets left in her little world. And suddenly, she was beginning to see what she had been missing all along.
Chelsea looked out the window from her 8th floor hotel room at The Ritz-Carlton in Denver, Colorado – just a bit less than a mile from The Pepsi Center, where, on that night, she had performed for a sold out crowd of screaming fans. When she first started touring, her crowds were a lot smaller and seemed to be more female. Now, she could no longer tell what the gender breakdown was and she could no longer see empty space in the arenas she performed in. For as intense as it all was, that was only her work and strangely, she enjoyed leaving all of that attention at the office, in a sense. That was her life, but it was no longer her entire life.
Four floors down in that very same hotel was Mason, her Daddy and her new-found reason to live. And, as promised, he had traveled to Denver from his Uncle’s cabin nearby and gotten a hotel room. Finally, after what felt like an eternity of waiting, though it had only been three weeks since they made the current weekend’s plans, Chelsea was going to meet him.
She picked up her sunglasses and walked into the bathroom, scrunching her lips up at the fact that she wasn’t wearing any make-up at all, as per Mason’s request. And while it was a welcomed break from having to doll up her face with such precision before going anywhere, it still seemed to go against her impulses. She loved her fans and wanted to give them what they came to see, but she loved Mason more and she hadn’t prettied herself up at all for him, aside from taking every bit of hair off her body, from the neck down. But, abiding by his wishes, she put her make-up away, slipping into a plain t-shirt and a pair of cotton shorts before putting on the sunglasses, opening the door and walking out into the 8th floor hallway.
Covert missions of travel were nothing new for her. And, keeping her chin lowered, she walked the length of the hallway in her bare feet, reaching the service stairwell at the end and beginning to descend to the 4th floor. Despite her calm presence, she was a flustered mix of emotions inside. She was no longer scared about having her identity revealed – instead, just simply nervous about meeting the Daddy she had spent quite a few nights on the phone with – not to mention rapid-fire texting with him all day, each and every day.
His Uncle’s cabin didn’t have Wi-Fi or any internet connection at all. So, for the time he had been there, they had been reduced to phone calls and texts. As a matter of fact, Chelsea hadn’t seen his face since that night they spoke on Skype. And exiting the stairwell onto the 4th floor, she wondered what it would feel like to see him again, with her own eyes – and this time, not through a laptop screen, but in real life.
Room 417 was the door she was looking for, glancing up quickly at the first door number and then looking back down. Her steps became smaller, not for lack of desire to get to him, but for need to make every moment of this night a memory. There would be no telling what would happen after tonight or if there would ever be another opportunity like this one to see him again.
Her body tingled from head to toe and everywhere in between. Breathlessly, she counted the number of doors on the left side of the hall, skipping the even number in between each one. And suddenly, she found herself standing in front of the ninth door, Room 417. Tightening her lips, she tried to steady her breathing as she took a moment to allow her heart rate to slow down, but the anticipation only picked up the galloping of her chest thumps and the only way to catch her breath would be to stop torturing herself and allow it to be taken away. And there was only one person who could do that for her now.
Reaching out, she knocked on his door and then stepped up as closely to it as possible so she could get inside the room the moment he opened the door. Glancing left-n-right, she kept in mind the riskiness of this visit and wanted to make certain no one with a camera had been following her. She could hear him rustling inside the room, his strong, steady steps to the door and then the sound of the latch being undone.
He opened the door and she stepped inside, shutting it and re-latching it before turning her around and planting her back to the inside of the door. Lowering the sunglasses down to the tip of her nose, she looked up at him and smiled. He was just a handsome in real life as he was on a laptop screen. Her heart leapt out and she wanted to jump into his arms, but instead, she found herself waiting for his reaction to her. This was the first time they had met face-to-face and the fact that she wasn’t wearing make-up and wasn’t dressed to the nines entered back into her conscience. She didn’t think she looked bad, but she knew she could’ve looked better … much better. But what she thought of her appearance didn’t matter. All that mattered was what Mason thought.
She followed his eyes as he slowly gazed up and down her body, taking in all her curves, the bust of her C-cups, how her shorts gathered and rode up her inner thighs. Anxiously but numbly, she awaited his first words. He wore a simply white t-shirt and a pair of blue jeans, his feet being bare as well and his scruff being a bit fuller on his face – but not enough to hide the chisel of his jaw.
But he didn’t speak as his first reaction. Instead, his eyes adorned a twinge of lust, that initial male reaction to anything female. She wanted to ask him about the sexual interests of being a Daddy, but that discussion could wait. His face brightened to a warm and inviting smile and she ran into his arms, his embrace wrapping around her frame.
“Hello, BabyGirl,” he whispered with a raspy, timbre that made her knees weak.
“Hello, Daddy,” she whispered back with a tone so little that her mind had regressed, ever-so-slightly, just to sound that way.
His body was so warm and he was so gentle with her. His voice made his sternum vibrate a little. And his scent. Oh, his scent – not too much but just enough to make her want to keep her nose buried in his chest for the rest of her life. It was the kind of smell that, if she was to get hold of and keep one of his shirts, she might get a nasal infection from sniffing the scent of the shirt too long and breathing in the cloth fibers too deeply. Oh, if they stayed right there, in each other’s arms, forever, she would be happier than any other girl in the world. But the hug began to get long, too long, it seemed, for a simple hello. To Chelsea, however, it couldn’t have lasted long enough, and wanting to stake her claim on him, she stepped up onto his feet, not wanting to be moved any further away from him than right next to him.
Keeping her feet on his insteps, Mason turned around slowly and began to make slow humpty-dumpty side steps as he walked back into the hotel room. Chelsea giggled at him, already lost in littleness as she held on tightly for the ride.
“And how was the show tonight?” Mason asked, getting over to the couch and laying her down on it before sitting next to her and lifting up her legs to place them across his lap.
His warms hands wrapped themselves around her right foot as he began to press his thumbs into the soles of her feet, gently at first but then with more pressure as he slid his thumbs apart.
“I take it you also dance at these concerts,” Mason said, looking over at Chelsea who had closed her eyes and leaned her head back as she basked in the feel of his foot massage.
“Ahhhhh,” she said softly, then breaking into laughter at herself.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Mason said, joining her in laughter. “Yes, by the tension I feel in your muscles, I’d gander you danced quite a bit.”
“Oh yes,” Chelsea whispered. “Quite a bit is an understatement.”
“Well, dancing girl, we’re gonna get all the tension out of you tonight,” Mason said with a sudden change into that sugary Daddy Voice that kept her company at night on the phone in recent weeks.
She swooned, softly moaning again as he switched his hands over to her left foot, repeating the massage. Oh my. He was very good with his hands. Very, Very Good with his hands. She would certainly have to see what else his fingertips could do, but that was best discovered all in good time. She wasn’t going to rush anything at all about this night. She wanted the memories just as much as she wanted each moment. And for a pleasant change, Chelsea wasn’t leading an extraordinary life, but instead, the ordinary one she had lost a few years ago.
“I have something for you,” Mason whispered, picking her up and sliding his lap underneath her, bringing her to rest across his thighs.
She curled up into a ball and rested against his chest, feeling the cradle of his arms. He began to rock her back-n-forth – ever-so-slowly and ever-so-gently. Looking up at him, she caught gaze of his eyes, so piercing and so powerful in what they shown back at her, yet so caring and so gentle – uncommon for a guy to have, particularly the construction worker-type that he was.
Her mind began to slowly drift away, certainly remaining in the moment, but detaching her from it just a bit as she came to the realization of being exposed from within. This guy not only knew what was so recently her greatest secret in life, but he knew how littleness made her feel and he knew how to draw it out of her. And in a sense, this made him know her better than she knew herself. There was no greater perception of helplessness than being kept one second beyond your own thoughts – so that, before you think anything, he had already guessed it right.
And as she came to understand how defenseless she was, she softly whimpered, her eyes still locked in gaze with him as she took in a few small, erratic breathes of air, preparing to cry as she opened her mouth.
“Shh, shh, shh,” Mason shushed her softly, producing a pacifier out of seemingly thin air to tuck its soft, rubber nipple in between her lips – just in time to silence her fuss before it took over her emotions.
Her eyes softened and glistened warmly with a fresh coat of tears. The tension in her face melted away. Her body went somewhat limp and her mind disconnected the rest of the way. And at long last, after a lifetime of dreaming about it, Chelsea finally felt littleness, in its fullest and most dynamic form.
“There she is,” Mason whispered sweetly, his voice continuing to melt her soul. “Daddy’s little BabyLove.”
With her tummy fluttering away, she got that first fully-encompassing babyish feeling as it poured out of every cell in her body. Her head began to spin, but she didn’t feel like she was going to pass out. Instead, she found focus – tunnel vision, even – as everything around him and behind him went blurry and faded to black. The room got very quiet and all she could hear was the timbre of his voice. His words didn’t have the same meaning as they usually did. They were now something she couldn’t focus on with a regressing mind. But her senses had come alive, in a manner and with a lucidity that they had never had before. It wasn’t what he said that mattered. It was how he said it. It was how inviting his tone was, how soft his voice sounded while still keeping her attention. And now suddenly, as the only thing in her ever-diminishing world that was clear, Mason became more important to her than she could’ve ever dreamed a Daddy to be.
He lifted the t-shirt off her frame and she raised her arms without resistance. He slid her cotton shorts down her legs and she raised her feet without opposition. Naked but her little white panties, she lied calmly and comfortably in the nestling of his arms, nursing her pacifier slowly and breathing in the memory the moment was making.
She hadn’t worn a bra down to his room, having evoked the 11 pm rule before she left, but perhaps also with wishful thinking in mind.
“I think you’re a little silly, BabyGirl,” Mason whispered his face brightening to a smirk. “Who ever heard of a BabyGirl who wore Big Girl panties?”
Her heart pounded in her chest as he stood up, carrying her over to the bed and tisking softly down at her. She knew what he meant already, but once again, it wasn’t what he said. It was how he said it. A feeling of real vulnerability washed over her frame as he eased her down on the bed so gently she could’ve been made of crystal glass. Then he knelt down beside her and leaned in towards her.
“Chelsea, it’s okay. You’re not doing anything wrong. As I told you before, there is no wrong way to be a BabyGirl. Don’t listen to all those people on those sites who fill your head with thoughts of what you’re supposed to be,” Mason whispered, deliberately taking her mind out of the little space he had put it into. “There’s no wrong way. There are simply ways that are right for you and then ways that are right for others.”
And despite his serious statement, his eyes kept that glimmer of Daddyness in them, then returning her to a little space inside with a simple touch of his fingertips to her forehead. She smiled as he lightly drew his fingers down her face, tapping the tip of her nose on the way to her chin.
He was right. There really was no wrong way to be who she wanted to be. Traveling into regression and back out of it would only ever be as difficult as she made it to be. But in reality, it could be seamless – because it was where she wanted her head to go as opposed to where she tried to take it that mattered. She was simply thinking about it too much. And when she realized this, she finally relaxed into the white-hot attention he was surrounding her with.
“You don’t want to wear these panties anymore, do you?” Mason asked with a syrupy-rich tone as he took hold of the waistband of her underwear and began to roll them down her legs.
She beamed brightly behind her pacifier, laughing at his silly faces as she shook her head no to answer his question. And in the blink of an eye, she was now naked, head-to-toe. Mason still had his clothes on and it was this difference that made her feel even more little. It didn’t make her feel uncomfortable. It actually seemed to make sense. A lot of BabyGirls ran around naked all the time. And Chelsea knew that she was more than happy to be one of them.
“I think what you need to wear is something a little more … little,” Mason said, a cheeky grin coming across his face as he reached down to the bottom drawer of the nightstand next to the bed, opening it and showing how full it was with little stuff.
Chelsea’s eyes grew big-n-wide at all the things she saw in that drawer, then lying flat and staring up at the ceiling when she saw him pick up a diaper – one of the Bambino ones with the little teddy bears on the front of them, just like her precious Cuddles the teddy bear who was currently guarding her room up on the 8th floor. She thought about bringing Cuddles with her, but she was picky about who met her teddy bear and she wanted to be certain about Mason first. But seeing the teddy bear decal on the front of the diaper as Mason unfolded it, the crinkles rippling through her mind, she knew Cuddles would love him as much as she did. And she would need to introduce them soon.
Placing the diaper on the bed, Mason put his hands behind her knees, bending them up and curling her legs up to her chest. He picked up the diaper and pressed its inner softness against her bottom before placing it flat beneath her. She gasped behind the pacifier. Oh my goodness, she was never going to waste her money on Depends diapers again … not when that glorious softness was out there, just waiting to be worn! Placing his left forearm on the back of her thighs, he leaned in, gently lifting her bottom up and coating her backside with the silkiness of powder. His right hand caressed it across her cheeks and up to her tailbone.
Then he lowered her bottom in that glorious inner softness of the diaper, parting her legs and taking more powder to her front. She whimpered softly at the touch of his fingers to her smoothness. No one had ever touched her like that before and it was a very pleasant feeling – one that pulled her thoughts out of littleness and drove them straight into arousal. But as he folded the front of her diaper up and into place, fastening the tapes as snuggly as possible at her hips, she didn’t know which headspace to go into – a most wonderful dilemma that, just like being a BabyGirl, saw no wrong way to go.
The sweet scent filled the air around her and, grabbing his right hand, she rubbed his fingers and palm up-n-down her front – not wanting any of the sweet scent to be wasted. Keeping her knees bent, she tried to close her thighs, feeling the thickness between her legs and around her waist. Closing her eyes, she swooned in the moment, preparing to file it away in a growing mental bank of sweet memories. But she opened her eyes quickly, when she felt him drawing his arms up behind her, sitting her up and then lifting her.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist, locking her ankles at his lower back but then quickly unlocking them when she saw him wince with pain.
That’s right. She had almost forgotten that he had lower back pain and she knew that at some point that night, she would take care of that problem for him, in her own sweet, little way. But for the moment, she was enjoying her place in the air. His left forearm wrapped under her diapered bottom, holding her firmly. And his right forearm he placed at the middle of her back, pressing her against him. She smiled brightly and sweetly behind her pacifier, thinking that she could use to this kind of … pampering easily.
Mason carried her over to the window and drew back the drapes, allowing the phenomenal view of downtown Denver to fill her eyes. She stared at all the bright lights, the buildings, the night life and even The Pepsi Center in the near distance. Out there, she was Chelsea Sweet and she was wanted. But in his room, in his care, in his heart and in his life, she could be whoever she wanted to be. And he didn’t just want her. He needed her … as much as she needed him.
But, oh, if anyone could’ve seen her just then, it would’ve been detrimental to her. Thankfully, she was safe and it was that sense of safety that she would have to add to her list of personality traits for the perfect guy. He was already kind, stable and confident. And he was cute. And he was all hers. And there was no way she was ever gonna let him go.
“Do you see that high peak over there?” Mason whispered, pointing at a mountain in the horizon.
Chelsea nodded, shyness controlling her at the moment. Nobody could see her, but that fact didn’t take the shyness out of her senses.
“Well, if you drive up the road over that peak, you’ll be headed to Evergreen, Colorado,” Mason explained. “In the middle of Evergreen is the Evergreen Lake. And next to that lake is Desside Park. My Uncle’s cabin is all the way at the end of Desside Park Lane. And the cabin is high enough up that I can see Denver’s skyline.”
Mason looked at the clock next to the bed and quickly returned to the couch with a sudden urgency. Did he have something else to do that night? He sat down and she bent her knees, facing him as she straddled his lap with her legs. She wrinkled her brow and tilted her head, trying to figure out why he sat there. But when he picked up a hair brush and eased her to lean on his chest, her confusion went away.
He feathered all of her locks down her back, beginning at her tips and slowly brushing the strands smooth. Working his way up, he gave just enough of a tug to lightly pull at the roots, giving her scalp a pleasant tingling massage as well. She whimpered softly into her pacifier. What a wonderful feeling and how glorious were his strokes of that hair brush. The pacifier fell from her lips as she whimpered again at the pleasant feeling.
“When did you learn how to do this?” Chelsea asked softly, closing her eyes as she rested her forehead on his sternum, her hands reaching up to his shoulders.
“When did I learn how to brush hair?” Mason asked, jokingly.
“No,” she laughed, lifting her eyes up to him and touching his face with her fingertips. “When did you learn how to give a BabyGirl what she wants? How do you know what we want?”
“How do I know?” he asked, repeating her question. “I don’t know. At least not till you tell me that this is what you want. Until then, I simply guess.”
“You’re a good guesser, Daddy,” Chelsea whispered with a smile.
“And you’re a good girl, Princess,” Mason whispered back to her, setting the hair brush on the table next to the couch. “And I’m guessing that when I picked up that hair brush, you had a split second of worry that you were gonna get a butt-whoopin’. Am I right?”
“Why would you guess that?” Chelsea asked with a laugh.
“Because you wet yourself a little right as I picked up the brush,” Mason said, giving her a wink. “If you didn’t then the front of your diaper just sudden got warmer on its own.”
Chelsea looked down, seeing her diapered front pressing against his belly, a t-shirt being the only thing between them. She smiled and looked back up at him.
“How do you do that?” Chelsea laughed, sitting back on her legs.
“Magic,” Mason joked, picking up the fallen pacifier. “And here’s another rabbit to pull out of the hat: You’ll be needing this paci in just a little while.”
With that, he returned the rubber nipple of the pacifier between her lips. Oh, how silly he was and she crossed her eyes at him. But then her eyes grew big-n-wide and she squealed into the pacifier after a knock came to the door. She leapt off his lap and crouched down beside the bed as he got up and walked to the door, reaching into his back pocket for his wallet on the way.
He opened the door, greeting the man who stood in the hallway.
“Room 417. You ordered three dozen plain wings with barbecue sauce and ranch dressing?” the man asked.
“Yes, indeed,” Mason said, reaching into his wallet.
“You must be hungry. That’s a lot of wings for one person,” the man said, raising small talk as Mason handed him money.
“Oh, no. They’re not just for me,” Mason replied. “My little girl is probably hungry, too.”
“Aww, is she traveling with her Daddy?” the man asked. “I bet she probably doesn’t get to stay up this late usually, huh?”
“Well, an empty belly is hard to go to sleep on,” Mason said. “So she’ll have some wings, get her diaper changed and it’ll be off to bed for her soon. Have a good night.”
Mason shut the door and Chelsea hopped up on the bed, covering her eyes with her hands and planting her face in the pillows. She had cowered with fear, but strangely also hid with a little excitement. It would be another sweet memory, but only because the delivery guy never saw her.
Mason set the box of wings on the bed and reached over, lightly smacking her diapered bottom to get her to spin around.
“I think I just peed a little bit again,” Chelsea said, taking the pacifier out of her mouth as she opened the box of wings.
Mason reached into the bottom drawer of the nightstand and picked up the bib he had bought. It was only a tiny cloth one with pink edging but the words on the front were absolutely perfect: A star is born. Her hair was smoothed out straight and flowing down her back and after he put the bib around her neck – making a ponytail with the bib strings, she dug into the wings.
And there they sat, munching away on a late night snack that Chelsea knew wasn’t in her diet but truly didn’t care.
“Do you remember that Daddy guy I told you about who wouldn’t leave me alone on the site, the one from Boston?” Chelsea asked, dipping a wing in the ranch dressing.
“Yeah,” Mason answered. “Is he still bothering you?”
“To say the least,” Chelsea answered, chomping into the wing, her fingers and face beginning to show more and more barbecue sauce. “He just keeps sending me messages. He won’t take a hint.”
“Chelsea, I really wish you’d let me say something to this guy,” Mason stated. “Maybe he’d back off if another guy asked him to. He clearly doesn’t understand boundaries and you really don’t take chances. Let me send him a message. Then you block him from viewing your profile. Set your picture to friends view only. Report him to the site administrators and be done with him.”
“Well …,” Chelsea said, a little apprehensive to make the admittance. “I did all that, but not before I sent him a message that I probably shouldn’t have.”
“What?” Mason asked, concerned.
“I got angry at him and told him off,” Chelsea admitted.
“Delete your profile,” Mason suggested, getting a pack of wipes from the bottom drawer of the night stand. “That way, he won’t be able to contact you anymore at all.”
“Maybe I ought to do that,” Chelsea said, then smiling as Mason took a wipe to her barbecue-covered hands.
Next, he took another wipe to her face before untying the bib and storing it away. They turned the TV on and lied down on their bellies, Mason reaching back and feeling the back of her diapered bottom.
Oh my! More tummyflies! He just checked her diaper, didn’t he? And as she shrunk up her shoulders, another rush of littleness overtook her senses. She was getting use to this whole Daddy-n-BabyGirl thing, passing back-n-forth between thoughts and enjoying how it had become a natural part of their relationship – not just an act she had to put on, from time to time. Her whole life these days was about performing for others. For once, she wasn’t going to put on a show at all. And this made her very happy. Making him happy seemed to be a good pairing. So, she decided to make good on a promise – one that they both would hopefully enjoy, just for different reasons.
Chelsea got up and took his t-shirt off. Oh my, he had muscles. Muscles were very good. She liked muscles a lot. Then she removed his belt, unzipping his jeans and sliding them down to his knees. Having him remain lying on his belly, she bent her legs and straddled her knees at his hips, gently sitting her diapered bottom on his tailbone and beginning to shift her hips back-n-forth. Her hands pressed in on either side of his spine as she pushed them up to his neck and began to massage his shoulders. Determined to work that soreness out of his lower back, she began to slide her diapered bottom up towards his lumbar and then back to his tailbone, gliding her crinkliness along his aching lower back..
Mason groaned at first, but settled in to the relief from pain she was making. Chelsea looked up at the TV, smirking at the episode of Jerry Springer that was airing at 1 am.
“I think shows like this one are popular for morbid reasons,” Chelsea said, still sliding her diapered tush along his lumbar while kneading her thumbs into the muscles of his upper back.
“It’s all background noise to me,” Mason said, watching the guests being torn apart from their fist fight. “People love drama. Maybe that’s why reality TV is such a big deal.”
“Yeah, that’s what I mean,” Chelsea said, shuddering at a sensation that had begun to form between her legs and then smiling at how her plan was actually working the way she hoped it would. “I think people want to see the drama of others, so they can know that other people have it worse than them. It’s morbid.”
And with that, she stopped commenting on the TV show as the sensations between her legs had suddenly intensified. Closing her eyes and biting her lower lip, she fought the urge to rock up-n-down his spine faster. Though, when she closed her eyes, her imagination put pictures in her mind. And with each shudder, she felt herself beginning to get just a bit wetter, a few small drips starting to roll down her outer labia. Biting her bottom lip harder, she opened her eyes, looking for her pacifier to help with the shushing of her heavy breathing at least. But she couldn’t find it and the sensations still grew, making her whole body shiver.
It felt too good to resist. She wasn’t good at anything that required a lot of stamina anyway and following her impulses, she pressed her diapered mound into his spine and began to glide on him faster … and faster … and faster. And before she realized it, she was practically thrashing. Hoping he would be okay with her sexual interest in all of this, she decided to make another memory from this night – one that she wouldn’t forget and one that she would certainly finger herself to in nights to come.
Her arousal built and she could feel her swell as the first ripple of pleasure rushed out of her core and washed over her naked frame – save for her diaper. And as the second wave of pleasure arrived, she began breathing erratically, her diapered thrusts becoming less about glides and more about thumps.
The first ping of her orgasm arrived and she gasped for air, whimpering her exhale out. She started grinding herself into his lumbar, harder and harder as she neared eruption. Oh, how good it felt. No amount of toys and fingering could equal this. And the only thing better would’ve been the real thing. But she wasn’t gonna do that, at least not on a first date.
And before she had any more time to think about it, she felt her arousal peak and then her orgasm arrived fully, rushing out of her with a force that seized up her muscles and made her tremble.
“Oh … Daddy,” Chelsea whimpered helplessly, dismounting from her straddle when her muscles released so she could turn him over and re-plant herself on the front of his boxer, beginning to glide her diapered mound up and down, across the length of his stiffness.
His boxers lined the trace of his length and girth. And as she looked down at his condition, she imagined what it would feel like to have him parting her wide open on the inside, penetrating her deeper and deeper until their pelvic bones met. She gazed down at him, her eyes now showing the lust that his had when he caught first sight of her at the door. She leaned down to him, continuing to glide her diapered mound faster and faster across his underside vein. And, swallowing a lump in her throat, she decided to follow the one train of thought that had been with her since that night they first Skyped – No More Secrets. No More Secrets ever again.
“I love you, Daddy,” Chelsea whispered, her voice trembling and her eyes welling up with tears as she could feel her orgasm forcing her upwards to the summit. “And I need you … in every way imaginable.”
“You’ll have me,” Mason said, his timbre melting the little resistance she had left. “However you need me.”
She whimpered again, her orgasm beginning to intensify to its climax.
“There’s no wrong way, baby,” Mason whispered, seeing the fear of rejection in her eyes. “Cum for me! … NOW!”
His louder tone startled her and it was the final little push she needed to erupt. She sat up and so did he, getting the rubber nipple of her pacifier into her mouth in the nick of time again before she whimpered uncontrollably. He held her in place as her body shook, the rippling pleasure pouring out of her causing tremor after tremor and draining her of all energy until physical exhaustion made her balloon down from the summit.
Then she went limp and after a few minutes of holding her up in her kneeling position, he finally eased her down onto the bed. Her sight was blurry, everything appearing double as she reached down into the front of her diaper and teased out her afterglow. She stared mindlessly at the TV, the exhaustion of the experience taking time to find its recovery. Not wanting to move her, Mason sat alongside her and propped her back up with pillows, before taking the pacifier out of her mouth and shaking the bottle of milk he had just prepared one more time before feeding it to her.
“And when … are we going … to do this again?” Chelsea asked with weakness of tone.
“We’ve only just begun, baby. This is the first day of the rest of your life, if you want it,” Mason whispered, placing the rubber nipple of the baby bottle between her lips – Chelsea nursing from the nipple and gazing up at him. “I love you, Chelsea Sweet. And I’m so proud of you for having chosen to live with no more secrets.”
Also Read: “The Monopoly of a Dirty Mad Lib“Kindle – Nook – PDF Ebook – Smashwords – Kobo – CreateSpace Paperback – Lulu Paperback
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