The Great Unknown

The Great UnknownTaken from:  Country Rose

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here is a little story about a city girl who boldly waddled somewhere she had never gone before … The Great Unknown.


The Great Unknown

Rose took the Pennsylvania Avenue exit off of Sandhills Boulevard.  She was now less than a mile away and after 14 hours behind the wheel of a Budget moving truck, she was just as ready to see this trip end as she was to see everything else begin.  It was May 1st and springtime had been in full bloom for quite a while now.  Every year, she counted the days until spring, always seeing it as a time to begin a lot of things anew in her life.  And with the return of leaves and flowers, the whole world around her seemed to be thinking the same thing.  But this was nevermore her mindset than on this particular day.  Rose was headed into the Great Unknown.  And anywhere unknown was better, at the moment, than where she had been. 

Having lived her entire life in Boston, Rose had fallen in love with New England – its beauty, its nature and its history.  She knew that no matter where she went in life, she would always call herself a BeanTown girl, supporting the Celtics and the Red Sox with passion.  But she had to leave Boston, a truly painful decision.  The problem wasn’t that she had grown too comfortable there or that she had fallen in love with Boston too much.  It was because she had fallen in love … with Thorn.

Hindsight was always clearest, but it never made any regrets easier to swallow.  Maybe she should’ve thought about it a bit more before she started seeing him.  And at the time they met, she was already looking to break out.  So Thorn was merely a delay for what she needed to do.  But his name seemed to go so well with hers, it just seemed like they were meant to be.  Yet another bit of hindsight showed that Brett Michaels was right.  Every Rose did have its Thorn.  He made her feel horrible about who she was.  And that was no way to live.

So two months ago, she ended their song and began looking for a new place to live, to fall in love again.  But six blocks away in the city hardly seemed like the “start over” in order.  To leave him, she had to leave Boston.  It was time to go somewhere that she could call a new home, the kind of place that wouldn’t make her pull the lever and reset her life ever again.

Instead of just following an impulse and moving where the winds took her, she decided to move to the polar opposite of where she had been and what she had always called home.  It hardly made sense to start over in the same kind of place.  And the opposite of a bustling city like Boston was the quiet countryside … somewhere in the Great Unknown.

Less than a mile now from Southern Pines, NC, she could feel the excitement of the new surroundings mixing with her exhaustion from the drive.  But she would rest later.  There was too much living to do to sleep it away.  And now, at long last, nothing was holding her back.  Nothing was going to make her second-guess herself and nothing was going prevent her from getting there. Her spirits were high and she loudly sang Katy Perry’s “Roar” as it played on the radio, banging the steering wheel and knowing that nothing was going to stop her now.

BAM!  A flat tire made her think again as she steered the truck to the side of the road.  This was great.  This was just great.

Regretting not having gotten roadside assistance from the moving truck place, Rose got out of the truck and walked around to the right front tire.  She didn’t know what she had hit, but the tire was completely flat.  Kicking it several times, she clenched her fists and looked straight up at the sky, screaming as loudly as she could.  She wasn’t really angry at all, just a little frustrated perhaps.  In order to get this far, she had sell her car and quite a few belongings to be able to afford the trip.  And then she had to beg a relative for a little more money.  But here she was now.  And despite how her life hadn’t quite worked out, thus far, the way she believed it would, she was nowhere near being done or giving up.  Quite to the contrary, she had only just begun living.

The only remaining problem was a blown tire, less than a few hundred yards from the little cottage she would call home.  Folding her arms, she turned around and leaned back against the moving truck, resting her head on it and closing her eyes.  Taking in a deep breath, she remembered why she chose Southern Pines, NC.

It was the right move.  She had picked it well from a list of places she looked at online.  Having spent quite a bit of time researching locations, she could just feel that she would flourish well under Carolina blue skies.  And just standing there now, on the side of that dirt road, she could feel the peacefulness of the area – despite her outburst of a few moments ago.  But that was the beauty of it.  Back in Boston, when she screamed like that, people nearby would scream back at her and tell her to shut up.  But here in Southern Pines, she screamed out her frustration to the sky and those frustrations floated away – because they had no place here.  So, for the first time in her life, she was able to release and forget as opposed to release and recoil.

She could hear the wind in the trees, the birds chirping and all the pine needle scent she could handle.  It was certainly soothing to a soul that had spent life wound up tighter than a snare drum.  Unraveling was going to be the best part of this move.  At least, at that moment, that’s what she thought and that was all she believed would ever happen.  But when she opened her eyes, her summer transformation into Country Rose would begin.

Riding down the road and heading towards her, was a man, sitting on a brown-n-white horse.  And as he drew closer, she began to see details about him – his broad shoulders, his scruffy face, his chiseled jaw, his flannel shirt, his blue jeans and his boots.  And the closer he got, the more handsome he got.  Rose stood up, looking in the passenger’s side mirror as she quickly smoothed out her hair and then smoothed out her country dress, a bit of fashion she wanted to try right away – to see if it felt right for her.  But presently, the main concern was to look her best – given the circumstances of a handsome man on horseback approaching her.

When he got to the front of the moving truck, she could see his eyes, with their deep electric blue color.  Thank God Almighty she had that truck to hold onto.  Otherwise, she would’ve collapsed for how weak in the knees his gaze made her.  The sun, having just begun its early evening descent in the sky, shown brilliantly behind him.

“Where’s your hat, Cowboy?” Rose asked, holding her hand straight out from her forehead to shield her eyes from the glare as she squinted to look up at him.

The man smiled, keeping his lips closed but laughing.

“I musta left it with my chaps, my belt buckle and all my other Cowboy stuff back on the ranch,” he said with a deep timbre, heavy-laden with a southern accent.  “I definitely shouldn’t have forgotten it.  You never know when you’ll be out ridin’ around and suddenly you’ll find a pretty lady alongside that road who’s having trouble keepin’ the sun outta her pretty eyes.”

Oh my, he was charmer.  And above everything else, Rose’s first impression of him was just that.  He was a charmer extraordinaire.  Not only did he have a sense of humor to him, but he wasn’t afraid to poke fun at himself.

“My name’s Emmitt,” he said, that southern accent remaining constant.  “And you are …?”

“Whoever you want me to be,” Rose said, flirting immediately with a sudden twinkle of shyness as she lowered her chin.

She knew that Southern Pines was gonna be good, but maybe she didn’t realize how good it would actually be.

“How about I call you Rose Bedford?” Emmitt said, riding over to the side of the truck to look at the flat tire.

Rose’s jaw dropped and her eyes grew big-n-wide.

“How did you know my name?” Rose asked, a little dumbfounded.

“I’m a lucky guesser,” Emmitt said, a playful smirk coming across his face as he winked at her.

“No, tell me how you knew my name,” Rose insisted, still shocked.

“Well you’re drivin’ a moving truck down James Creek Road – which comes to a dead end at my horse farm down there,” Emmitt said, smiling and then laughing.  “I was told a new tenant would be movin’ into the cottage across the pond.  I take it that’s you.”

“We’re gonna be neighbors?” Rose asked, leaning up on the side of the truck again and sticking the nail tip of her right pointer finger between her teeth.

“Yep,” Emmitt said, getting down off his horse.  “You, Me and a whole bunches of horses.”

Oh my, he was tall.  And oh my, he was tan, really tan for it only being May 1st.  He must’ve worked outside every day … with his shirt off.  Rose’s mind swooned at the thought of sitting on the porch of her cottage, drinking sweet tea and watching him work outside … shirtless.  She wondered if he had muscles under his shirt and was almost inclined to ask him.  But she decided to show some manners … for now at least.

“And what his name?” Rose asked, point to the brown-n-white horse he had rode into her life on.

“This old guy, right here?” Emmitt said, patting the back of the horse’s neck.  “His name is Stud.”

Emmitt smiled brightly with cheekiness as she broke into laughter.

“Of course his name is Stud. What else would it be?” Rose asked, snorting with laughter and then covering her mouth-n-nose as she blushed at herself.

Then the horse snorted back at her, only causing Rose to begin the laugh so hard that tears formed in her eyes.

“You sure about that?” Emmitt asked the horse before he looked at Rose.  “He says he likes you.”

“Oh, he does, huh?” Rose asked, trying to compose herself.  “Well I hope all your horses like me.”

“I can’t see any reason why they wouldn’t,” Emmitt said with a gaze in his eyes that put a small fluttering of tummyflies inside her.

Oh, yes.  He was a charmer indeed.  And Southern Pines, being the opposite of a big city, had somehow matched a country boy with a city girl.  This was getting really, really good.  And she hadn’t even made it to her cottage yet!

“Did your tire go flat?” Emmitt asked.  “Or did the other three just suddenly swell up on you?”

Rose looked at him, confused as to what he meant.  But after a few seconds, she broke out in hysterical laughter yet again.

“I don’t know,” she laughed, her second wind of energy having begun to subside as her 14-hour trip had returned her drained feel.

“Well, I guess it don’t matter,” Emmitt said, looking at the word Budget on the side of the moving truck.  “Ain’t that for sure.”

Emmitt climbed back up onto the horse, then offering his hand to her.  Rose looked at him, a little confused as to what he was directing her to do.

“Let me take ya down to your cottage,” Emmitt said.  “I’ll rig up some way to get this hunk of junk pulled down the road.”

Rose took hold of his hand and then tried to figure out how to climb up onto the horse.

“Hold up,” he said, lowering his left boot.  “Step on my foot with your left foot and when you do, swing your right leg up and over.”

She put her foot on his left instep and pushed herself up, swinging her right leg as he told her to and taking a seat behind him.  And then she wrapped her arms around him, squeezing him and holding on for dear life as he shook the reins and they horse took off in a slow trot down the road.

“Yep, I remember my first time on a horse.  It was scary,” Emmitt said.  “It was that yellow one down at the front of the Wal-Mart.  I still can’t go back to that store because of it.”

Rose snorted with laughter again, resting the side of her face between his shoulder blades.  Oh my goodness, she could hardly believe what had happened to her that day already.  Early that morning, she said goodbye to her friends and family up in Boston, flipping off the jerk who ran a red light and almost slammed into her.  And now she was straddling herself on the back of a horse, hugging a cowboy with no hat.  Oh, what was a girl to do when faced with such opportunities?

And my goodness!  What a wonderful smell he had!  Well, it wasn’t exactly a wonderful smell, but it was a male smell.  You know, one of those scents that was a mixture of sweat from the day and hormones … more like pheromones, really.  He was all male.  And the fact that he rode a horse made him even hotter.  There was something about a horse that was masculine.  She couldn’t put her finger on it, specifically.  Maybe it was strong muscles in the legs or the proper posture the animal always seemed to have.  Whatever it was, it elicited a similar response.  Not with some crazy, disgusting fetish or anything.  But with something very basic – almost like she needed to be around him and to be around these horses. 

Maybe here, being the lone provider of estrogen in a sea of testosterone was exactly the new beginning she was truly looking for.  No longer battling with the other caddy girls as each of them shoved their way to get in front of the bathroom mirror at the clubs and restaurants back in the city.  No more girl drama.  No more pretending to be pleasant when she just wanted to scratch certain people’s eyes out.  All of that would have no place in her life anymore, not in Southern Pines.  And there would only be a rose garden laid here.

“There it is,” Emmitt said as they crested the summit of the road to the edge of the property.

Lifting her head up, Rose took in first sight of what she would now call home.

The landscape stretched from the wooden fence alongside the road to the edge of the pine tree forest, surrounding an area that seemed too picturesque to be real … but it was.  And in the middle of it all was an enormous pond, fed from natural underground water sources so as to not allow the waters to go stagnant.  His stone-faced farmhouse sat along the edge of the property and the oldest-looking barn she had ever seen sat by the edge of the road.  Extending straight through the high grasses was a stone trail, traveling alongside the pond. And on the far side of that pond was her little cottage, nestled up against the forest line behind it.

The cottage had a tiny little covered porch on the front of it, facing the pond.  Oh, what a breath-taking view there would be to greet her every time she walked out the front door.  And she could already see herself spending a lot of time on that porch.  The sun rose from one side and set on the other, but the cottage was built on the ground in such a position as to never be facing the glaring sunlight.  So her time on the porch would never be too hot to handle – whether in the morning or the evening.  But being as she would be able to see the entire horse farm from her porch, she truly hoped that the view of Emmitt would be too hot to handle.

Within the fenced area were at least two dozen horses, but two that stuck out in particular.  One was jet black with a long mane and the other was as pure white as new-fallen snow.  Rose watched them running alongside each other with a slow-trot, the white horse having labored gallops.  But they seemed to be best friends, enjoying the weather and each other’s company.

“Do all these horses have names?” Rose asked as they approached the barn and turned down onto the stone path.

“Um … yeah,” Emmitt answered, the astute conversationalist he always was.

“How do you come up with a name for a horse?” Rose asked.

“I don’t think there’s much to it,” Emmitt replied, slowing Stud to a trot as they went down the stone path.  “I usually just ask ‘em what they’d like their name to be.”

Rose broke out into laughter again.  Not only was Emmitt a charmer but he could make her laugh often.  She began to wonder, however, if he had a serious side to him.  But that was something she’d find out later, not now.  She had just gotten there and was still enjoying the novelties of everything new.

“So what did all these horses say, when you asked them what they wanted to be called?” Rose asked, smiling.

“I didn’t name these horses.  I only tend to them.  Somebody else owns them and named them,” Emmitt answered as they approached her cottage.  “But I do own the black one and the white one.  Cinder and MilkDrop are their names.”

MilkDrop?” Rose asked, laughing softly as she looked at the white horse.

“I was drunk, okay,” Emmitt admitted, laughing with her.  “And it only took about a half a case of Budweiser to come up with that brilliant name.”

“So you’re a Bud Man,” Rose asked, her attention suddenly drawn to the front of her cottage as Emmitt dismounted the horse.

Her eyes locked in on the cottage, mesmerized by it as she blindly reached out to his shoulders, feeling his hands at her hips as he lifted her off the horse.

“And you’re a Rose bud,” Emmitt said, smiling.  “A rose bud who received a package in the mail this mornin’.”

Rose’s eyes were drawn to the big cardboard box that sat on the rocking chair on her porch.  Lowering her chin, she quickly walked up onto the porch and over to the box, trying not to show her blushing reaction as she knew exactly what was in it.

“So the mailman delivers to my cottage?” Rose asked, looking at the company name on the box.

“No,” Emmitt said, laughing.  “The mailman’s actually scared to death of horses.  Can you imagine such a crazy thing as that?  No, he delivers it to my house.  I brought that box up here a few hours ago.”

Rose picked up the box and quickly took it into the cottage, hoping he wouldn’t inquire as to what was in it.

“You mind if I come in?” Emmitt called from the porch, Rose having already disappeared back the hallway and into her bedroom.

“Sure.  Make yourself at home!” Rose called from the bedroom.

She carried the box into the closet, thinking to herself:  Emmitt, you can not only make yourself at home, but you can stay as long as you like.  Oh, he had her flustered.  From first sight, she had slowly been melting to his silly humor and country boy appeal.  She was a sucker for things that were simple, yet intriguing.  It was always the simple part that drew her in, making her feel that simple also meant safe.  But once she was drawn in, she began to take in details, intriguing her to want to know more.  She hadn’t quite gotten that close to him yet.  But the evening wasn’t so old as to not be able to get a good first impression of what the Cowboy from across the pond was all about.

“Listen, Rose.  I’m gonna go ready some of the horses to pull that broken movin’ truck of yours up here to the house,” Emmitt called from the kitchen.  “When I’m ready I’ll give you a holler, okay?”

“Yes, Emmitt!” she called from the bedroom, slicing the packing tape on the top of the box open with her thumb nails.  “I really can’t thank you enough!”

“It’s my pleasure, Ma’am,” Emmitt said, then walking out of her cottage.

She could hear his boot heels as he walked off the porch, making his way over to his horse.  The name of Ma’am now trickled through her mind.  She had never been called that before and it felt kinda good.

Opening the flaps, she knelt alongside the box and reached in, tearing open one of the plastic-wrapped bundles to feel inside it.  Closing her eyes, she shuddered, tingling in silly places at the softness her fingertips felt and the plastic her thumb rubbed up against.  Her heart was pounding for excitement and as she pulled out what was in her hand, she joined her other hand to it, wiggling her fingers and listening to the crinkling noise.  There was no way she could have ever told Thorn about her Daddy’s Girl Fetish.  He would’ve laughed at her and that was okay because Thorn was 788.71 miles away, where he belonged.  And Rose was now where she belonged, at last.

Opening her eyes, her smile grew to an ear-to-ear brim as she took in another first sight of that day, this one of the pink disposable diaper in her hands.  As she had never pursued her fantasies before, when she searched online for a new place to live, she also did a few other searches.  Finding pink disposable diapers was one of her discoveries.  Two days ago, she ordered a full case of them, not expecting their shipping to be so quick and timely.  But she wasn’t the least bit upset that they had arrived in Southern Pines before she did.  Now she knew when to order more in the future.

Getting up and running over to her bedroom window, she watched Emmitt riding his horse down to the fence.  Perhaps she had enough time to do something quickly that she always wanted to do.  Ohhh, her impulses were driving her crazy.  Should she do it now or wait?

But the realization of only living once finally made the decision for her and she ran back into the closet, shutting the closet door and kneeling on the carpet.  Unfolding the diaper, she felt that silly fluttering sensation in her tummy.  It was actually pink!  And it was crinkly and it was cuter than she could’ve ever imagined!  Oh my, her best kept secret of life was about to become rather unkept.  And she couldn’t have been happier.

Folding the diaper out completely, she placed it flat to the carpet, her tummy fluttering even more so as she looked at the inside of the diaper, feeling its thickness-n-softness.  Oh, this was gonna feel wonderful, on the inside and the outside.  She loved wearing soft things, especially so when they were pink!  What cuteness!  What fun!

Gathering up the lower hem of the skirt of her dress, she lowered her panties to her knees, lying on her tummy on the carpet, next to the diaper.  Then she rolled to her right, her bottom nestling into the diaper’s softness and the elastic edgings forming around her.  She closed her eyes as her knees drew up instinctively.  And in her mind, she could see herself lying in a crib, fussing just enough to get her Daddy to come in and check on her.  No, she wouldn’t be fussing necessarily to get him to change her.  She would just simply want him to come in and give her attention.

She opened her eyes, looking up at the ceiling of the closet and almost wanting Emmitt to find her there.  But how on Earth could she possibly explain this fantasy to him?  Having just met him, all she could presently say would be: Hi.  My name’s Rose.  Would you mind changing my diaper and babying me for a while?  Oh, it was never easy to be so eternally gripped with such strong emotions.  Rose was the kind of person who either loved something or hated it.  This didn’t necessarily mean she was a black-n-white person, but she never did anything half-way.  She couldn’t just be interested in something.  She had to know everything about it, inundating everyone and everything along the way until her intrigue was satisfied.

Reaching down between her bent legs, she grabbed hold of the front of the diaper, pinching the waist line between her thumbs and pointer fingers.  Drawing the front of the diaper up, she slid it along her skin, pulling it snuggly and laying it flat to her midriff.  The diaper felt very thick and it certainly had a waistline well above that of her panties.  But it also had its own set of emotions.  For as crazy as that may have seemed, it was the truth.  It was similar to the way she felt when trying on lingerie at a boutique, but different in that the emotions weren’t always meant to be drawn by thought – instead, by being diapered and dressed by someone else.  That was the ultimate fantasy of any Daddy-dreaming diaper girl.  And Rose was certainly a seeker.

She pulled on the first tape at her right hip, fastening it snuggly to the front of the diaper, then doing the same with a tape at her left hip.  And after fastening the other tapes, she felt that sense of being enveloped, being wrapped in her own fantasy.  But it was no longer thought.  Now it was sensation, real and fantastic.  She lowered her legs, placing her feet flat to the carpet and lifting her hips.  Sliding her panties back up, she smiled as she sat up, thinking how funny it was that her panties suddenly felt so thin between her fingertips.

But when she sat up, she felt the bow of her thighs, a natural reaction to the amount of material between her legs.  Scooching her bottom back-n-forth, she felt her stomach fluttering as every limit movement she made was accompanied with a crinkle.  And as she stood up, she felt that same slight bow in her stance.  Smiling again, she began to make small steps forward, crinkling and waddling up to the closet door as she opened it and peeked out.  Tip-toeing up to the bedroom window, she watched Emmitt corralling the black horse and the white one.  Her mind bounced back-n-forth between thoughts of Emmitt her neighbor and thoughts of Emmitt being her Daddy.  Though she hardly knew anything about him, what she did know of him fit perfectly with what was in her heart – only fueling her desire to open up about her fetish.

Staring at the center of the pond, she started recounting all her blessings, a trick her Aunt had taught her when life couldn’t keep up pace with the wishes of her heart.  Here she was, living in a new place, in a cute little cottage with one mighty handsome cowboy who lived across the pond from her.  Oh, what a lucky girl she was.  And all of this had happened on her first day there.  She could hardly wait to see what new surprises and blessings awaited her tomorrow … and the day after that … and the day after that … and … forever!

Reaching down between her legs, she cupped the front of her diaper with her hands as a full tummyfly waltz began in her belly.  Her head swooned with all the fantasies of the moment and all of those that were so primed to greet her soon.  The sky, that beautiful Carolina Sky above her, was the only limit.  Filled with visions of absolute bliss, of tender attention and of thoughts of how she would never be yelled at or made to feel bad, Rose smiled, still staring at the pond in a daze.

Who could yell at a pretty BabyGirl such as she?

Boston was awesome and she would certainly visit it in the future, hopefully taking Emmitt up with her, to show a country boy what the city life was about.  But every Rose would always have her Thorn, that person who defined so much of what her life would be … until she decided it was time to replant her roots in soil she could stand up in on her own.

Emmitt whistled loudly from the horse barn, startling Rose out of her reflection and freezing her body for a second as she felt her bladder give way to a sudden tinkling.  Though no one was there to see her, she blushed with an embarrassment she had never felt before.  It was very intense when it happened, not just for her inability to stop peeing but also for how true it actually was that, when in a diaper, she couldn’t help but let go – a statement made by a few people she had met online.

 When she felt the last drip come out, she ran to the porch, coming to a screeching halt before she walked out.  She was wearing a diaper … that was wet!  She couldn’t go out of the house like this!  Running back to the bathroom, she pulled up the lower hem of her dress, yanking her panties down and unfastening the hip tapes of her pink diaper and tossing it into the sink.  Sitting on the toilet, she finished peeing and rolled the diaper up into a tiny ball – then standing up and putting the balled-up diaper in the cabinet under the bathroom sink.

Pulling her panties up, she sprinted out of the bathroom, out of the cottage, onto the front porch and down to The Bud Man who awaited her.


A Week Later, Mid May –

“I don’t know if I’m ready for this,” Rose said with a shaky voice, her heart pounding as she looked down at Emmitt.

“Give it a try, Rose petal,” Emmitt said, picking up the reins and handing them to her.

“But I don’t know anything about what to do,” Rose admitted, taking the reins in her hands.

“Neither did I … not until the day I decided it was time to learn,” Emmitt said, calmly and warmly.  “You have but to try.”

Emmitt climbed up onto Stud, his brown-n-white spotted horse, straightening his back and sitting up in the saddle.  Rose did the same, straightening her shoulders and sitting up.  She closed her eyes taking in a deep breath and exhaling her fear.

“Okay, teach me,” Rose said, patting the back of the black horse’s neck.  “And don’t make this tough on me, Cinder.”

Emmitt smiled at how small she looked, sitting in the saddle of that horse.  Her tiny fingers were barely able to make fists that got the whole way around the reins.  Her legs just barely stretched down the sides of the horse enough to be able to command and ride it.

“Alrighty,” Emmitt said, tipping up the front of his cowboy hat and deciding what the best thing would be to teach her first.  “I guess we’ll begin with how to make your horse go and then how to make your horse stop.”

“Wait a minute.  I have to make the horse go myself?” Rose asked, suddenly seeing this as a lot of work she wasn’t sure she’d be able to do.  “I don’t think I’m big enough to do this.”

“You don’t have to be,” Emmitt said, smiling at the fact that her excuses were coming from any honest emotion.  “You just gotta be bigger than the reasons why you say you can’t do it.”

“Okay,” Rose said, smiling at the fact that she had been busted of making any more excuses.  “I’ll try.”

“Good girl,” Emmitt said, not know what those two simple words just did to her heart and soul.

He proceeded onward, still clueless to how flustered she had suddenly become.  And she did her able-best to listen astutely – grateful she hadn’t just wet herself for how spooked she felt.

“Always sit with good posture when on a horse.  If you sit up and straighten your shoulders, your body will naturally do the rest for you,” Emmitt said, showing the posture he spoke of.

“When I sit up straight like that, my … boobs stick out,” Rose said, covering her mouth to laugh at how silly of a concern she just raised.

“It’s fine by me,” Emmitt laughed.  “I’d only get worried if your boobs sunk in when you sat up.”

Rose snorted with laughter and then Stud the brown-n-white horse snorted as well, only making her laugh harder – to the point where she couldn’t make a sound as tears streamed out of her eyes.  Emmitt looked at her and then leaned over, looking at Stud.

“Are you two quite finished?” Emmitt asked with a jocular tone.

Rose laughed harder still, now trying not to pee on the saddle for having laughed too hard as opposed to being spooked.

“Okay, let’s all just give ourselves a moment to breathe,” Emmitt said, Cinder the black horse then turning its neck and looking back at Emmitt.  “Cinder, I’m not talkin’ to you.  I’m talkin’ to Mr. Snort over here and little miss giggly Rose petal.”

Rose sat there on the back of Cinder for a few minutes, trying to collect herself, getting pretty close at moments, only then to break back into more laughter.  This went on for a quite a few more minutes, only adding to her hysterical amusement when he told her how long they had been sitting on the horses without having taken a single step forward.

“Okay, okay, okay,” Rose said, finally collecting herself enough to listen.  “Quickly start before I think of something else to laugh about.”

“Alright, I’m gonna explain how to get a horse to move and before you try it, I’m also gonna show you how to make the horse stop as this might be useful information to have before you ever get the horse to go,” Emmitt explained, Rose beginning to pay attention now.  “There are many ways to operate a horse, but I’m gonna show the ways that these two horses were trained.  Most of the work is done with your legs.  And when I say legs, I mean from the knees down to the ankles, not the top halves, okay?”

“Okay,” Rose answered, looking down at the way Emmitt had angled the lower halves of his legs alongside Stud’s girth.

“To get the horse to go, you squeeze your heels and the lower half of your legs, if needs be,” Emmitt said, demonstrating, Stud then beginning to take a few slow steps forward.  “Then to get the horse to stop, you simply sit back deep in the saddle and pull back on both reins.”

Emmitt sat back and pulled on the reins, Stud stopping.

“Now, you try it,” Emmitt said.

Rose prepped herself, holding the reins tightly and squeezing her heels inward.  To her surprise, Cinder began to slowly walk forward.  She squealed with excitement, then remembering to sit back in the saddle and pull back on the reins, Cinder then stopping.

“Good girl!” Emmitt said supportively, Rose fighting back the natural urge to regress.  “Now … we’re gonna ride the whole way down to the other end of the field.”

“Oh my,” Rose said, looking at how long the field was.

“To get the horse to turn to left, you pull on the left rein only.  And to get the horse to turn to the right, you pull on the right rein only,” Emmitt explained, then pausing to allow her to catch up in process of thought.  “You ready, city girl.”

“Lead on, Country Daddy,” Rose said boldly with a southern accent, her mind making her body tingle.

And away they went, very slowly to start.  But she was doing it, sitting on that horse and controlling it.  And yes, it was definitely the muscles of a horse’s legs that made it seem so masculine to her.  She had a close-up view of them and could now confirm this, seeing how with each trot, the horse’s muscles expanded and contracted – driving the animal forward with power … horsepower, in its most natural sense.

“Where did you buy Cinder?” Rose asked as they slowly rode along the fence line.

“At SpringFest, three years ago,” Emmitt answered.

“SpringFest?” Rose asked.

“Yeah, it’s this festival they hold in town every year.  Usually on a Saturday in June.  Lots of crafts and food and vendor people there … and horse owners, too,” Emmitt answered.

“Will you take me to it this year when it happens?” Rose asked, getting accustomed to moving with the motion of the horse.

“I certainly will,” Emmitt answered.  “There’s also a sidewalk sale day in August.  And a 4th of July parade that both Cinder and MilkDrop always ride in.”

“Oh, I wanna do all that stuff this summer!” Rose said.  “It sounds exciting.”

“You want some excitement?” Emmitt asked.  “Lean forward, lift your haunches up, put some slack in the reins, hold on to the horn of the saddle – which is that little knob thingy on the front of it – and see what happens.”

Rose did everything he instructed her to and when she did, Cinder took off with a blindingly fast pace.  She squealed with glee, the wind rushing through her hair and the exhilaration of moving that fast – racing through her senses.

“NOW STAY CLOSE TO ME AND JUST HOLD ON!” Emmitt said loudly, the wind drowning out most other sounds.

But she stayed right alongside him and saw they were fast-approaching the fence at the end of the field.

“DON”T PULL UP!  JUST HOLD ON!” Emmitt said loudly, directing Stud to leap over the fence, Cinder following without need for instruction.

Rose squealed as she and Cinder flew through the air, then tearing off after Emmitt and Stud into the high grasses.  With blazing speed, the countryside rushed past her and the beauty of Southern Pines expanded in her mind as she took sight of the spacious country.  They would eventually slow the horses down, bringing them to a halt at a small stream – Cinder and Stud immediately beginning to lap the water up.  They hopped down off the horses and Rose ran into his arms, hugging him around his chest, overcome with emotion from the amazing experience she just had.

If he only knew what she was thinking, just then.


The Next Evening –

Rose made her way down to the barn, carrying the last of the Budweisers she still had left in her fridge from when she arrived.  Evenings were a good time for Emmitt to groom the horses.  Some of them were high-spirited and being brushed often helped them to settle down.  But all this brushing would often take him a few hours.  So, Rose had begun to help him.  It was always a little warm in the barn and helped with the chill of the evenings.  Added to that was how romantic the setting seemed, giving her time to get to know him a lot better as they talked while grooming them.

On this particular night, their talk wouldn’t be small or idle.  Rose was burning on the inside and before she got any more comfortable with the fantasy of Emmitt becoming her Daddy, she boldly decided that it was time to open her heart to him.

“Heya, Country Daddy. Ya thirsty at all?” Rose said, giving her voice a southern twang as she walked into the barn, her attire being nothing more than a flouncy country dress and a pair of thong panties.

Oh, she was in a flirtatious mood, remaining country-relaxed while still flaunting her wiles.  She set the beer at his feet, bending over at the waist and taking her sweet time in standing back up.

“You got Baby Fever, dontcha?” Emmitt asked as Rose pulled a stool up alongside Cinder, then standing on the stool and beginning to brush the horse’s hair back.

“Yep,” Rose admitted, making long strokes with the brush, her cheeks showing the hue of her name.  “Just not how you think I do.”

“Well how do you think I think you do?” Emmitt asked playfully, Rose pausing to process what he just asked and then bursting out into laughter.

“I think you think I think like you think,” Rose said, playfully jousting back at him.

“Ah, I see what you’re sayin’.  And you’re probably right,” Emmitt said.  “I was thinkin’ how I thought you thought you thought.  Ya think?”

“Take it from a girl who never stops thinking.  This is way too much thinking we’re doing,” Rose said, stepping down off the stool and nibbling on her lower lip as she began to brush the sides of the horse.

Her heart had already begun telling him about her fetish.  Her mind just couldn’t quite get the words out yet.  So, to buy herself time to pull it together, she thought up a little bit of idle chat but also of something she had been meaning to ask him.

MilkDrop doesn’t walk very well, does he?” Rose asked, making reference to having seen the white horse favoring a foot when playing in the fields with Cinder.

“Yep.  That horse has a suspensory ligament injury,” Emmitt answered.

“A what?” Rose asked, walking over to MilkDrop and squatting down to look at its back right leg.

“To put it simply, that horse sprained its ankle in a manner that won’t ever allow it to fully heal right,” Emmitt explained, picking up the beer, walking over to a bale of hay and sitting down.  “I was there the day it happened.”

“Really?  Where did it happen?” Rose asked, running her fingers up and down the bony structure of the horse’s lower leg.

“Oh gosh, this goes back about six years now.  It happened at the Churchill Downs.  That’s the racetrack where they do the Kentucky Derby,” Emmitt recalled.  “There was one filly in the Derby that year.  A filly is a girl horse.  And that horse’s name was Eight Belles.”

Emmitt paused for a moment, thinking twice about continuing the story – for its horrible outcome.  But then continuing on.

“Comin’ into the final turn of the race, there was nothin’ but a straight stretch left to the finish line,” Emmitt recalled, watching Rose continue to massage the back of the horse’s ankle.  “Eight Belles was in 3rd place and MilkDrop was in 4th.  Other horses were gainin’ on ‘em but there wouldn’t be enough time to catch up.”

Rose stood up and walked over to him, sitting down on his left knee to listen.

Eight Belles picked up speed and actually finished the race in 2nd place, but the moment that horse crossed the finish line, we heard a horrible poppin’ sound in the stands.  She had broken both of her front ankles and went down.  They had to euthanize her right there,” Emmitt continued, then looking over at the white horse.  “MilkDrop had been slammed into on either side by two other horses and its back right ankle essentially got sprained.  It would finish further back in the pack and before they got the chance to euthanize MilkDrop, I ran over to its owner and bought the horse from him.”

“That so sad for Eight Belles,” Rose said, saddened but touched.  “But it’s so wonderful that you saved MilkDrop.”

“It was the right thing to do,” Emmitt said, then perking up to brighten the mood.  “And nowadays, MilkDrop is doin’ better than ever.”

Emmitt smiled at a sudden realization.

“You know, MilkDrop was born in the outskirts of Philadelphia.  So he was a city dweller for the most part before comin’ down here to the country,” Emmitt said, grinning.

“It sounds like a theme you’ve got going,” Rose said, with a playful smile and a wink.  “We learn to grow up in the city and then come here to the country to learn how to live.”

A brief pause preceded the moment when Rose’s heart finally had to start gushing the truth to him.

“I have something to tell you,” Rose stated suddenly.

“You ain’t really a man, are you?” Emmitt joked, lifting up the front of her dress and looking down at her waist.

“No,” Rose laughed.  “I have something serious to tell you.”

“Then I got somethin’ serious to listen to, don’t I?” he asked, giving her his full attention.

“Have you ever heard of age play?” Rose asked, gasping at how easily she had blurted the question out, then holding her breath for his answer.

“Can’t say that I have.  What is it?” Emmitt asked, honestly.

“Well,” she started, suddenly having a lot of trouble defining it.

Oh, for Heaven’s sake!  She dreamed about it all the time.  She fantasized about it more than was healthy for her to do so.  She could chronicle all the emotions and sensations and urges and desires and wants and needs and wishes that came along with it.  Yet, here she was – sitting on his knee and possessing his full-attention with the opportunity to open her heart up to him.  And now?  NOW she was lost for words?

Scrambling her thoughts, she tried to summarize it as best as her frazzled nerves would allow.

“It’s something that makes me feel wonderful and safe,” Rose answered safely, stalling for time until she could get over her brain drain of the moment.

“I like it already,” Emmitt said, putting his arms around her.  “Tell me more.”

If Emmitt understood how that simple statement from him had thrown daggers into her soul, he might not have said it at all … at least not at that moment.  She didn’t need any help keeping her hopes high.  But what she did need help with was keeping her feet on the ground.

“It’s a fetish,” she whispered, then looking right-n-left, so self-conscious that she feared the horses might judge her.

“A … a fetish?” Emmitt asked, confused by her vagueness.  “Okay … what kind of fetish?”

“It’s a fetish … where people play different ages than what they actually are,” Rose said, her body trembling something fierce.  “And for me … it’s about playing a younger age.”

“Wait a minute,” Emmitt said, looking her directly in the eyes.  “This ain’t that thing where adults do stuff to …”

“NO!  It’s nothing like that at all,” Rose fussed, feeling like she might well have blown her lone chance to write her own fairy tale story.  “Geez, I knew I shouldn’t have said anything.  I’m so stupid.  These stupid, stupid impulses I have always ruin everything for me.”

“Rose,” Emmitt said with a calm and soothing voice as he took her chin in his hand and turned her face towards him.  “Don’t cry … and you’re not stupid.  You just need to explain it to me.  That’s all.”

He reached up to her eyes, gently swiping his thumbs under her lower eyelids and brushing her tears away before they ever had a chance to streak down and stain her cheeks.

“I promise you, I’ll listen,” Emmitt said softly.  “With an open mind.”

“But I don’t know how to explain.  It’s something I feel, not something I talk about,” Rose whimpered, feeling helpless as to how to open her heart to him now.

“Then, how about this:  When you feel ready, how about you show it to me?” Emmitt asked softly.

Rose smiled, feeling more in love with him at that moment than any other since she met him.  He was actually willing to wait until she was ready.  This kind of patience was the stuff of Daddy material – a very good sign at that point.

“Okay,” Rose said cheerfully, lifting her legs up and placing them across his lap, then leaning her head on his chest just as a rainstorm began pouring down outside.  “I was wondering if it ever rained down here.”

“So this fetish doesn’t include nothin’ goin’ up my butt, does it?” Emmitt asked with a sudden concern in his voice.

Rose howled with laughter, snorting and then covering her mouth and nose.  Emmitt pointed to Stud the brown-n-white horse a split second before the horse snorted as well.  Rose howled harder with laughter.  Cinder turned its neck and looked back at Emmitt.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Emmitt said to the black horse, Rose now crying with laughter as she gripped his shirt and wiped her eyes with it.

And there they sat for quite some time, watching the rain come down outside, replenishing the beautiful countryside with water.  But before much longer, the inside of that barn became increasingly hot, almost swelteringly hot it seemed – as if the heat couldn’t escape the building for the rain coming down.  Rose closed her eyes, basking in the warmth.  It was far better than being cold and it also had the ability to heat up other things … namely, Rose’s passionate fantasies.

She sat up, straddling his lap and facing him as she arched her back – her chest heaving towards him.

“What are you doin’, Rose petal?” Emmitt asked, his playful tone only encouraging her to continue.

“Practicing my horseback riding posture,” she said with a lustful gaze as she took his cowboy hat off his head and place on her own.  “And all I need to do is dig my heels into your sides … and bounced up-n-down as you move.  And then I’ll be able to … ride you.”

She slowly raised her hips up-n-down on his lap, mimicking the motions of penetration and withdrawal, lowering her chin and nibbling on her bottom lip but keeping the lustful gaze in her irises locked on him.

“Would you blow my hair back, Emmitt, just like when we rushed through the fields yesterday?” she asked grinding her seat into his groin.

His hands traveled under her dress, onto her thighs and back to her bottom.

“But I wouldn’t jump any steeples when riding you,” Rose said, her breathing picking up a bit.

“You wouldn’t, huh?” Emmitt asked, following her advances.

“No.  Why would I jump over it?” she asked, placing her palms on the sides of his thighs as she grinded her mound into his groin.  “When I could slide down onto it, instead.”

His hands traveled up her back, lifting her dress up and off her frame, leaving her in just her thong panties.

“You’re the prettiest little city girl I ever seen,” he said, lying her down in the loose hay behind that bale.  “How about I make a Country Rose outta ya?”

He leaned in and kissed her, their lips opening and their tongues touching.  Placing his left hand behind her neck and his right hand behind the small of her back, he began kissing a trail down the center of her body.  Rose closed her eyes as she put her fingers in his hair, the cowboy hat falling forward to cover her face.  She arched her back a bit more, heaving her chest out again as his lips traveled down her cleavage.  She knew where he was headed and she could hardly wait until he got there.  Her hands pushed down on the top of his head, trying to get him to kiss his trail faster.  But Emmitt kept a slow burn and an even slower pace as she nearly lost her mind.

By the time, he got to her waist, her arousal had soaked through the front of those thong panties and if she hadn’t been swollen and horny, she might have been embarrassed by how easily he had turned her on.  But quite frankly, she didn’t care, at the moment.  With one swift motion, the panties were slid down her legs and she found her thighs parted as she tossed the hat away to see her ankles raised in the air.  His mouth, so slow with its kisses, had suddenly launched into a fevered pursuit of action between her legs.  His tongue began at her clit, working its way down to her wet center, circling around her outer labia and only adding more sensations to those that had already flooded her senses.

Swallowing a lump in her throat, she gasped as the first little ripple of pleasure poured out of her, bringing a new saturation of wetness as she whimpered through the shudder.  Her fingers were traveling all over his head, messing up his hair and at intense moments, gripping his short locks.  Emmitt knew how to make every stroke of his tongue count and Rose was too inundated with concentration on what each lick planted inside her to see his hands as they moved outward from underneath her to then grab her wrists and pin her arms down.

Then he began licking with a more fervent pace, memorizing the right places, those exact spots that made her twitch the hardest.  Her soft whimpers gave way to loud moans and she thrashed to get away at the moments when the intensity became too much to process.  But Emmitt held her down and kept contact with her clit, working her up into frenzy and into a fuss.  She wanted to beg him to stop, but at the same time, she wanted to beg him to ravage her.  It was torture and ecstasy, battling to see which would destroy her first.

With the arrival of each new ripple of pleasure, the muscles in her core began to tighten.  And as the ripples grew larger and larger, she seized up, her entire body trembling as she stared at up at the ceiling of the horse barn.  Her mind went to mush and then returned to the moment, over and over again until her orgasm finally arrived with a ferocious full force.  She screamed at the top of her lungs, her voice travelling throughout the countryside and echoing back off the trees.

She would cum for him, harder and harder until her seizing body went limp, her frame collapsing and surrendering all resistance as the first wave of afterglow washed over her.  Her skin danced with sensations and she stared back up at the ceiling again, exhausted and spent.

Suddenly, it really didn’t seem like she had much of any incentive at all to ever leave Southern Pines again, much less that very spot on the loose hay.  But as she drifted into her afterglow, the only thought on her mind was how good he just made her feel – without ever having penetrated her.  Sex would certainly be the next level up from what she was currently feeling.

Yeah, that was her thought.  And she hoped he was thinking it, too.


July 1st

Rose stood on the back porch of his farm house, overlooking the pond and her cottage on the far side.  She smiled, seeing the property from his point of view.  And she loved looking at her little cottage from a distance, having taken several pictures of it and sent them to Boston – to her friends and family.  She was still very much a BeanTown girl and would never forget that.  But Southern Pines, North Carolina, had everything she needed and more.  And this summer would be one she would never forget.  It had already become that.  Though, in hindsight, it would probably all seem like a blur.  But that wouldn’t matter if she wound up where she wanted to be when the leaves of autumn fell.

For today, July 1st, it was time to open the gates and let happen what would happen.  As Emmitt walked out from the house, having just loaded the dishwasher from dinner (another really good sign), he wrapped his arms around her from behind – leaning his head down and whispering in her ear five words that she needed to hear.

“Okay, show me this fetish,” Emmitt said softly as Rose smiled slyly, her fantasies already kicking into high gear as she took him by the hand and walked back into his house, grabbing the little hand bag she brought with her and leading him upstairs to the bedroom.

Rose thought she would be more nervous when she finally revealed it to him.  She thought she would perhaps even be an emotional mess, but having drug her feet a little bit, for the sake of certainty, had yielded an unexpected blessing – one of poise.  By not being impulsive and by allowing Emmitt time to explore information about this secret fetish of hers, she was now able to keep control of her excitement – or at least enough to prevent herself from developing a babbling, overbearing personality that would certainly have scared him away from the whole idea.  And also, Emmitt’s online research, prompted only by his curiosity, showed her that he was genuinely interested in knowing what made her happy.  It was that kind of reassurance that enabled her to calmly lead him into the bedroom, poised and controlled … for the moment, at least.

 But as she sat on the side of the bed, putting the hand bag down and beginning to empty its contents on the mattress, her heart began to beat a little bit faster.  Emmitt was well aware of the diaper thing.  And a teddy bear seemed to go along with the fetish nicely as did a cute little blanket and that white nightie.  But he raised an eyebrow when he saw the pacifier and the bottle of powder.

He sat down on the side of the bed, looking at everything she had laid out for display, and having stood up herself, was now arranging so as to make it seem like an outfit, an ensemble – if you will – missing only the girl to be dressed and babied.  Then she slowly backed away from the bed, giving Emmitt the space needed for him to process it all.  She watched with breathlessness as he picked up the pacifier.

Emmitt had read so much about the age play fetish and where it came from and how people had found a way to heal themselves through it.  Still other people had found a way to open up places in their hearts that they never dreamed they would be able to explore – let alone share with another person.  And then he stumbled across a question that stumped the daylights out of him, as well as everyone who tried to answer it:

“What does a Daddy get out of it?”

It honestly seemed like a secondary thought and one that could easily be answered with:

“Because he loves her.”

But the question remained in the corners of his mind as he kept reading forums and message boards about people who embraced this interest in every facet of their lives.

Looking back at Rose, who was standing at the closet doors, he saw her clothing, now lying on the floor at her feet.  And there she stood, naked from head to toe.  Her shoulders were shrunken up.  Her arms were folded, covering her tummy.  Her chin was lowered and her eyes were fixated on the floor.

Holding that pacifier in his right hand, he stood up, walking over to her and placing two fingers under her chin as he lifted her eyes.  And in her gaze, he saw a glimmer of hope, a helpless request to finally know what a dream actually felt like.  She didn’t demand, nor did she fuss – instead, succumbing to that same vulnerable feeling that had visited her in her dreams last night.

“Open up,” Emmitt whispered, his southern accent giving his voice sweetness as he held the rubber nipple of her pacifier to her bottom lip.

Rose opened her mouth and took the nipple between her lips, never looking away from him and beginning to nurse on it with natural need.  Her eyes softened even more so and suddenly, she not only looked up to him with adoration but also with a need for direction – as if he was now the only vision in her eyes.

It was at that moment that he could finally answer that question and finally knew what he likely would get from it – the thing that would make it endearing to him as well.  Taking her naked body into his arms and embracing her, he gently rocked her back-n-forth.  It all made sense now.  What made him search online for answers and what kept the intrigue of her fetish in his mind really didn’t have anything to do with the fetish itself.  As her Daddy, what he would get from it had to do with her.  And, simply stated, it was all about doing what he needed to, to make her happy, to know that he was the reason why she was happy.  To feel needed.

He lifted her up into his arms, Rose wrapping her legs around his waist as he placed his left hand under her bottom and wrapping her arms around his neck as he leaned her against his chest.  She trembled like a leaf, not from being cold or from being fearful – but for having never gone this deeply into her heart before, for having never allowed anyone to peel off this many outer layers of her soul.  And exactly two months to the day of her arrival in Southern Pines, Rose was once again traveling into another unknown, perhaps greater than any before it.

“Hush now, Rose Petal,” Emmitt whispered sweetly, petting the back of her hair as he walked over to the window and looked at the horse barn on the side of the pond.  “You don’t have to worry about being accepted anymore.  Now, you’ll live your dreams and you’ll stop dreamin’ them.”

His right hand traveled up to the back of her head, his strong fingers beginning to massage her scalp.  Whimpering softly behind her pacifier, she felt a shiver travel down her naked frame – not just from the feel of his fingertips but more so from the power she could sense in his hands.  Emmitt had lived a life of labor and it had built him up to be extremely strong.  And what made her feel safe when with him also made her cower to him … the physical strength he repressed.

She could feel his self-restraint as he held her, how he was holding back what he could do with his bare hands.  She would be helpless, truly helpless to fend him off.  It was arousing, intoxicating even, to think of what he could do to her body – should he pin her to the ground or the wall or the bed or a tree, for that matter.  And as he walked over to the bed, holding her close to his body while easing her down onto the mattress as if she was fragile to the touch, she indeed did feel fragile, helpless and never more vulnerable than when lying beneath him, naked and feeling small.

And the first thing he picked up was that pink diaper, her belly welcoming the third act of The Great Waltz of the Tummyflies as she watched him unfold it.  Bending her legs, she drew her knees up to her chest and parted her thighs, helping him along as he tried very hard to flatten the diaper perfectly.  Putting a diaper on wasn’t rocket science, but paying attention to minute details may as well have been such, for him.  He dealt with horseshoes and close was always good enough.  But now, he had to trek into a Great Unknown as well – one where Tender Loving Care was what the instruction manual said and one where a calming atmosphere was in order.

Her heart skipped a beat as he placed the diaper flat to the mattress beneath her and she closed her eyes, feeling that super-softness of the inside of the diaper as it touched her tail bone.  The sensations of being diapered were nothing new to Rose, but those same sensations felt a bit more intense when created by someone else and when being diapered by someone else as opposed to diapering herself.

But nothing, however, could’ve prepared her for the powdering.  And as her brain turned to mush, over and over again, she took the moments in between to make a mental note to explain to him that a coating of powder didn’t necessarily need to look like heavy snowfall, by the time he was done with her.  Still, that now-extremely strong scent of sweetness in the air fueled her regression.  She didn’t believe anything could spoil this moment and as he learned how to be gentle when touching her, he traveled to get there through a pathway where his hands moved her legs apart with unintentional aggression.  This only fueled her passion through what was an, otherwise, innocent moment.

Lost in the confusing mixture of lust and purity that had seemingly blended into one, Rose succumbed to the waves of emotions that told her to simply submit to whatever signals she received.  It was the only way to navigate through the stimulus of regression that kept her eyes tossing aimlessly around the room for mental distraction – long enough to compute the moment and the stimulus of erotic thoughts that she would likely cum for him quickly and without much hesitation – should every diaper change of the future be like this one.

Oh God, she truly hoped every diaper change was like this one!

Feeling the snowfall-amount of powder he sprinkled on her front and between her legs, she whimpered softly at the coolness, as well as his strong-but-learning hands, as he roughly caressed the silky powder across her front – from one hip bone to the other.

And then he began to caress the silky coating between her legs, causing her to whimper with a short-lived fuss as she then mellowed at the feel of a sensation she had never felt before.  No guy had ever touched her between her legs with such care, such attempted-n-found gentleness and such an ability to make her tingle without trying.  Her mind drifted back to that intense dream of last night, remembering how she had imagined it would feel when he touched her and now smiling brightly behind her pacifier to see that her dreams did no justice to how good it felt in real life.

She gazed up at him, her strong Daddy who was learning how to be gentle.  Oh, how lucky she was.  As he folded the front of her diaper up and into place, she tried not to giggle at him as the Great Unknown challenge of diaper tapes became known to him.  Placing his right hand flat on the front of the diaper to hold it in place, Emmitt worked patiently at the left set of diaper tapes.  And once again, Rose could feel his power as he not only held the diaper flat, but held her in place as well.  Oh my, this whole power thing wasn’t something she had contemplated in fantasy, but she was certainly contemplating it now.  And my oh my, was it intense – another bit of submission she would enjoy over-n-over again and forever, should fate be smiling on this particular Great Unknown.

But he figured it out, taping both sides of her diaper with such a taut snugness that Rose made a second mental note to tell him about the need a BabyGirl had to be able to breathe easily.  Still, the tightness enveloped her with a softness like no other and as she wiggled her hips, she knew that, even if he always made her diapers that tight, she’d have an even louder bit of crinkling to remind her that she was his BabyGirl.

Sliding his hands beneath her to the small of her back, he drew his forearms up the center of her spine and sat her up with the same care for her fragileness that he lied her down with.  Sitting there with bowed legs, she nursed on her pacifier, watching him gather up the material of the nightie.  She smiled brightly, lifting her hands-n-arms up as he slid the nightie down her frame – then handing her the teddy bear and the little blanket.  She filled her arms with the only real accessories she would ever need again, not make-up or jewelry or a cell phone or a purse or anything else.  No, none of that big girl stuff, but instead a simple teddy bear and a still-simpler blanket.

He placed his hands on either sides of her rib cage, lifting her up into his arms as if she weighed nothing.  Wrapping her legs around his waist again, she felt her hand holding her now-diapered and heavily-powdered bottom.  Oh my, this felt so right, so very, very right.  And she was grateful to have that pacifier in her mouth.  If by chance, it hadn’t been there, and if by chance he asked her any questions, her responses would only have been incoherent babbling – the result of a brain that had been reduced to mush.  But what he said to her next would detach her brainwaves from her body completely.

“Baby, I wanna show you somethin’ that you might’ve thought you’d only ever see in your dreams,” Emmitt said, his southern accent rattling around inside her head as he carried her out of the bedroom and across the hallway to the guest bedroom.

Setting her down to her bare feet, he had her face the closed door and covered her eyes with her hands.  What was he up to?  What was this about?

“No peekin’,” he whispered in her ear, opening the guest bedroom door and patting her diapered bottom to make her walk into the room.

But she didn’t walk into the guest bedroom.  Instead, she waddled, crinkling up a storm and tingling from head to toe as she was a good girl for her Daddy – not peeking once.  When she got to the middle of the room, he stopped her, lowering her hands and quickly wrapping his arms around her waist.

Opening her eyes, she saw a crib. And not just any crib.  But a great big one, made of wood and painted pink … exactly like the crib that was in her dream last night.  Seeing it, she froze, her knees getting very wobbly as he held her up.  And the shock she felt did to her what it would do to any little girl, especially the ones who were so little that they still wore diapers.  She felt her bladder release, giving way to a small flooding that made complete her feel of regression.

And when her senses returned to her, she began to waddle over to the crib, feeling the wooden bars and staring inside it with a longing that only a little heart could have.  Gushing at her, Emmitt lowered the side of the crib and patted the back of her diapered bottom, encouraging her to climb up into it.

But she wouldn’t need a second pat to encourage her any further.  Up-n-in she went, immediately lying down on her tummy.  Oh, yeah.  A nap was most definitely in order and though she might fuss about taking them in the future, for this – the first time in a crib he had obviously built by hand, she would happily do so.  He covered her with her little blanket and tucked the teddy bear under her arm before picking up his guitar next to the crib.

Rose’s smile beamed brightly behind her pacifier, practically illuminating the late afternoon’s dimming gaze as it trickled through the guest bedroom windows.  And she nestled down, listening to Emmitt strum out yet another song from his never-ending collection of Garth Brooks’ Greatests.  He wouldn’t even get to the second verse before she was fast asleep in the crib.

But the Greatest thing of all was how familiar the Unknown had become for both of them, for such a short time together in Southern Pines, North Carolina.

Also from Country Rose: What She Set Her Mind to Do

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…………………………….. The Country Rose Series
Country Rose Country Rose 2 Country Rose 3 Country Rose 4 Country Rose 5

Country Rose
Country Rose 2
Country Rose 3
Country Rose 4
Country Rose 5
Country Rose 6
Country Rose 7


If you like The Country Rose Series,  I’d also recommend checking out two other ABDL Romance series:

Zeke and Lily: Once Upon a BeginningThe Mia Series - Book One.

The Zeke & Lily Saga

The Mia Series



15 responses to “The Great Unknown

  1. Pingback: The Great Unknown – Part Two of Three |

  2. Pingback: The Great Unknown – Part Three of Three |

  3. Pingback: Country Rose |

  4. Pingback: What She Set Her Mind to Do |

  5. Pingback: Riding on Wings |

  6. Pingback: What They Can See |

  7. Pingback: The Secret Binge – Part One of Two |

  8. Pingback: The Secret Binge – Part Two of Two |

  9. Pingback: Country Rose 2 |

  10. Pingback: On the Way |

  11. Pingback: The One – Part 1 of 3 |

  12. Pingback: The One – Part 2 of 3 |

  13. Pingback: The One – Part 3 of 3 |

  14. Pingback: The Country Rose Series |

  15. Pingback: Virus Protection / On the Tip of the Pen / On The Fingertips |

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