99.44

99.44Taken from the forced regression tale:

Full Force II: Dream Land

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here is a little story about what happens when the words are taken right out of your mouth.

99.44

Wednesday, 1pm

Dakota sat in the bathtub – her legs drawn up, her arms wrapped around her shins and her chin resting on her knees.  She was doing all she could to fight the gag reflexes that were constantly being triggered by the bar of Ivory soap in her mouth.  Her wrists and ankles adorned the same cuff restraints that Maria had put on her the very moment she arrived Monday morning.  Wearing nothing but a diaper and not even knowing where her shoes were at, Dakota wasn’t going anywhere. 

Tears streamed down her cheeks, partially from the punishment she was currently receiving and partially from fear of what additional punishment she would receive – should she take that bar of soap out of her mouth or get out of that tub without permission.  Looking down at the soap wrapper at her feet, she read its label:  Ivory … 99.44% pure.  So pure, it floats.

Dakota’s life journeys of the last few months took her to many places, but how she wound up in that bathtub was the most memorable journey to recall … and not necessarily for a good reason.

It had been just a few hours longer than two days since Dakota arrived on Maria’s doorstep.  And, just as Maria had said it would, Dakota’s session with the pro domme had been structured, exacting and had a consistent balance of rewards and punishments for good behavior and bad behavior, respectively.

But the point of these five days with Maria was still ever-clear: to give Dakota the guidance and correction she needed to find pride in herself.  Being a BabyGirl was difficult enough for the influx of emotions such a mindset produced.  Having experienced a lot of emotional let-down and cruelty from people she loved and trusted made it difficult for her to trust anyone now.  And feeling the urge, if not necessity, to find a Daddy to care for her was the icing on the cake that made Dakota’s five-day session with Maria so important … because it wasn’t some kinky session with a domme, but instead, therapy.

Dakota shifted in her seat, her diaper crinkling as she did so – an audible reminder of who she was.  She looked at that soap wrapper again: Ivory … 99.44% pure.  So pure, it floats – a visual reminder of where she was, of what was in her mouth and of why it was there.

Dakota knew that this week would be a tricky week to endure any sort of regressive or corrective therapy.  She knew her hormones were going to be out-of-whack for a few days, in preparation to her cyclical joys of next week.

It was that very morning, from the moment she had awakened, that irritability would be her greatest struggle that day.  And she had been a bear to deal with because of it.

Maria walked into the bathroom, dressed in one of her typical blouse-n-skirt combinations – a nice change for pace since her usual dominatrix attire was a little more revealing and a lot more uncomfortable.  But this week, Maria wasn’t a dominatrix, trading in her riding crop for a hair brush and playing the role of Mommy to a BabyGirl who needed to learn a few lessons about herself.

But despite Dakota’s outbursts of bad behavior and tantrum-nearing fits, Maria maintained her pleasantness – refusing to show any anger towards Dakota.  This only enraged the soap-muffled BabyGirl all that much more.

“Dakota,” Maria said, turning to face the bathroom mirror as she washed her hands in the sink.  “You will never get the best of Mommy, no matter how hard you try.   And I know you don’t really want to feel the way you do right now.  You don’t want to be sitting in that tub, sucking on soap and feeling horrible.  You want to be standing out here, with your head held high and with shoulders you could make broad … if you really wanted to.”

Maria picked up a towel and dried her hands as she walked over to the tub and sat down on the side of it.

“No, you will not get the best of me,” Maria repeated with her calm and pleasant voice, but with an additive of seriousness that always got and kept Dakota’s complete attention.  “But you will be punished for your transgressions.”

Dakota closed her eyes and sunk her chin in between her knee caps.  Maria immediately put the tip of her left pointer finger underneath the girl’s chin – lifting her eyes up.

“You are perfect already, BabyGirl,” Maria said, Dakota’s eyes welling with a new set of tears as she shook her head no.  “You don’t believe me yet.  I know.  But before long, you will start believing in yourself and that’s all that matters right now.”

Maria touched the very end of the bar of soap, sliding it into Dakota’s mouth just a bit further.  No, Dakota wasn’t gagging on it, but her reflexes of such were quite aware of the intrusion.

“At this rate, Mommy will be changing your pamper before this soap comes out of your mouth,” Maria said with a softened tone.  “And only Ivory soap can do what needs to be done.  Hmm?  Yes, Mommy needs to find a way to wash all those naughty words out of your mouth.  You know the ones I’m talking about.  Do you remember tell me that you didn’t give a fuck anymore when Mommy asked you to go pick out what outfit you wanted to wear today?  Or how you felt you were a stupid, messed up bitch that couldn’t do anything right?  Or how you hated to look at yourself in mirror?  These are statements that sound like you aren’t learning anything about self-esteem at all.”

Dakota closed her eyes again.  Yes, she was crying but it wasn’t because of what Maria was saying to her.

“You showed up on Monday and took to my rules very well.  All day yesterday you worked on your posture and you dressed yourself up to look beautiful.  You were an adorable BabyGirl when Mommy fed you or changed your pamper or laid you down for a nap.  You were a delightful little lady at dinner last evening.  And I was so proud of you, Dakota,” Maria said with syrupy sadness in her tone.  “Then you woke up this morning and decided to give up – becoming a foul-mouthed, sassy and disrespectful little girl … I am not proud of you right now.”

Dakota opened her eyes and looked up at Maria, finally feeling the daggers.  It was one thing to have her shortcomings listed.  It was another thing to hear how she had let Maria down.  Dakota knew what it felt like to be let down by others.  And she had always promised herself that she would do whatever she could to make certain she didn’t let anyone down herself.

But apparently, Dakota had done just that.

“It appears that putting you in this tub and putting soap in your mouth isn’t helping you to come to the conclusions you need to,” Maria said, standing up from the edge of the tub and rehanging the hand towel on the metal bar by the bathroom sink.  “Ivory will still work its magic, in time.  But Mommy can see now that you need an assignment to help you learn your lesson.”

Dakota sat back, putting her legs down flat in the tub and opening her eyes widely.  What did Maria mean by assignment?

“Out of the tub,” Maria instructed, facing back towards Dakota and folding her arms.  “Get on the little blue rug, on your hands and knees.”

Dakota did as instructed, crawling out over the side of the tub and getting onto her hands and knees on the little blue rug on the bathroom floor.  She lowered her head as she felt Maria lifting up on the back of her diaper, checking if a change was needed.

“I can’t imagine you’d be messy,” Maria said with a syrupy-sweet tone, patting the back of Dakota’s diaper.  “It’s after one o’clock and you haven’t even had lunch yet.  Follow Mommy.”

Maria walked out of the bathroom and into her bedroom, Dakota lifting her head and not knowing what to do.

“Baby … crawl to Mommy,” Maria said more specifically.

Dakota frowned as much as a bar of soap in her mouth would allow her to frown, but she began crawling towards Maria – her diaper crinkling and making her hip movements more pronounced.  Still, she made it over to Maria’s feet, her knees being grateful that the bedroom floor was carpeted.  She sat back on her haunches and looked up at Maria, still obediently holding that bar of Ivory soap in her mouth but having shifted it a little to allow herself to drool as necessary.  It was very unlady-like to be drooling but Dakota had the choices of swallowing the saliva in her mouth or allowing it to pour out from the corners of her involuntarily-parted lips.  The latter seemed like the best choice – for the sake of her stomach.

“Good girl,” Maria said, stroking Dakota’s locks.  “Now … follow Mommy.”

And with that, Maria walked out into the upstairs hallway.

“Don’t make Mommy wait,” Maria called back to Dakota.  “Unless you want that bar of soap to stay in your mouth until dinner.”

Dakota’s eyes grew big and wide as she got up on her hands and knees – hurriedly crawling out into the hallway and making a frenzied bee-line towards Maria who was already standing at the top of the staircase.  She was quite panicked, not for fear of any severe additional punishment, but rather, how it seemed Maria’s punishments were slow-building with their effect to get the point across clearly.

“Now I want you to stand up and walk down the staircase carefully,” Maria said, walking down the staircase herself.

When she got to the bottom, she turned around, got out her cell phone and began to record Dakota.

“Okay, baby,” Maria called up to Dakota.  “Make Mommy proud.  Show what you’ve learned.”

Dakota stood to her feet.  Reaching back and slipping her fingers under the elastic edgings at the back of her diaper, she pulled her diaper wedgie out.  Apparently Maria diapered her just as overly-tight as she diapered herself.  Then she waddled a few steps over to the top stair.  And when she got there, she placed her right hand on the banister – not clutching it firmly but just resting her open palm on the top of it for added measure of balance.

“That’s a good girl,” Maria said with maternal bliss, holding her cell phone perfectly still to record every second of this.  “Take a moment and collect yourself first.”

Dakota blushed a slight shade of pink, knowing that regardless of how elegant she walked down those stairs, she wouldn’t be able to have the grace that she possessed yesterday … at least not without the clothing and certainly not with a bar of soap sticking out of her mouth.

Lengthening her spine, she stood tall – lifting her chin just enough to raise her eyes but not too much to make her nostrils become a focal point.  Snooty wasn’t the desired goal.  Lowering her shoulders and pulling them back slightly, she straightened her spine – her chest jutting out ever-so-slightly and her lower lumbar releasing all pressure.

“That’s Mommy little lady,” Maria gushed, seeing how much Dakota had retained from her little lady training yesterday.  “Now show Mommy your grace.”

Dakota bent her right knee, lifting her right foot and taking her first step downward, remembering what Maria had told her about how a lady always leads with the right.  She kept her posture perfect and took the first step down, followed by the second and then the third.  Her diaper crinkled loudly and she blushed further embarrassment but kept her good manners in check.

“Aww, what a good girl you are,” Maria said, stepping backwards into the foyer as Dakota descended the stairs – holding ever bit of grace she could … minus the cheery smile, for obvious reason.

And when Dakota got down to the bottom step, she stopped – waiting for Maria’s permission to step down to the floor.

“That’s how you make me proud, baby.  That’s how you make me happy,” Maria said, ending the cell phone video and walking up to the girl.  “Now, down to your hands and knees again.  Follow Mommy.”

With that, Maria walked back the downstairs hallway – towards the kitchen.  Dakota got down on her hands and knees, crawling a crinkly waddle back the hallway after Maria.  She may have found a little pride, but she was certainly lacking in the dignity department.

When they got to the kitchen, Maria directed Dakota to crawl over to the glass doors at the back patio.  On the kitchen floor were two pieces of construction paper, one numbered from one to ten and the other numbered from 11 to 20.  There was a pink crayon lying next to the construction paper.

Dakota picked up the crayon and looked up at Maria who smiled.

“I want twenty sentences from you as I make lunch,” Maria said with a softened tone.  “And I will tell you what to write.”

Dakota sat down on her diapered bottom and positioned the first piece of construction paper between her parted legs.  Maria walked over to the kitchen counter, beginning to prepare lunch as she spoke.

“You will write: I promise I will not say bad things about myself and I promise I will not swear anymore,” Maria said.  “Get to it.”

Dakota felt like rolling her eyes, but with the end of that bar of soap in her lower peripheral vision, she thought better than to warrant an entire afternoon of nearly gagging from Ivory.  So she started writing the sentences out, using the pink crayon and taking her time as to make her handwriting look nice.  Maria certainly would have made her start over if the sentences looked like chicken scratch.

Inside of a few minutes, Dakota completed the assignment.  Maria walked over to her and the BabyGirl proudly held up both pieces of paper – beaming with giddiness for how obedient she had been.

Maria took the papers and smiled at her.  Then she pointed over to the high chair – Dakota crawling over to it as Maria hung the sentences on the refrigerator door.  Then she walked over to Dakota, helped the girl stand to her feet, lifted the girl up and sat her in the high chair.

Looking over to the counter, Dakota tried to see what Maria had made for her lunch – hoping that the bar of soap would soon be taken out of her mouth as her anticipation of forthcoming food had cause her to begin salivating.  Maria took the bar of soap out of the girl’s mouth, wiping the drool off the girl’s chin – but not before she attached each of the wrist cuffs to the arms of the high chair and each of the ankle cuffs to one of the front legs of the high chair.

Walking over to the counter, Maria picked up the high chair tray and turned back to her.  Dakota’s eyes grew big and wide at the sight of what was on the tray.

Castor Oil?

Horror showed vividly in Dakota’s gaping eyes as she frantically shook her head no. But Maria was waiting for this reaction and was prepared to calm the rippling waters.

“Shhhhhhhhhhh,” Maria shushed her, walking over and placing the tray on the arms of the high chair the nearly hysterical girl was sitting in – then pushing it backwards towards her and clicking it into place.

Dakota looked down at the glass flask, its tan paper label spelling clearly that it was indeed castor oil.  With her heart beating quickly and her chest beginning to heave for air, she looked back up at Maria with tears in her eyes.

“Calm yourself down, baby,” Maria said softly, setting the bar of Ivory soap on the tray as well.  “Your choices are clear and simple.”

Dakota looked down at the soap and then over to the castor oil.  Then she started crying, not bothering to tug on her restraints in a futile effort to free herself.  And as whimpering turned to louder sobbing and then into a full-out fuss of wailing, Dakota felt a greater sense of helplessness than ever before.  Sitting on that tray in front of her were two choices of how she would be punished for her attitude and her foul language.  The one would continue to wash her mouth out.  The other would clean her entire system out as she swallowed it.  Both choices were unappealing and Dakota had nowhere to run.  She couldn’t escape the consequences of her behavior.  And Maria, her fair-yet-firm Mommy for this week, wasn’t budging an inch on the matter.  Maria also wasn’t showing any signs of being upset or angered.

This only encouraged Dakota to tantrum that much more.  And tantrum she did, bouncing up-n- down in that high chair and trying to make such a fuss that Maria would eventually give in – letting her go to quiet her down.

But Maria did no such thing, instead preparing her own sandwich and taking a seat at the island table in the kitchen.  She began eating her lunch, reading from a magazine and completely ignoring Dakota as the poor girl began to tire herself into exhaustion from fussing so much – left with no availing result to show for it.

Dakota tried to lift her knees to bang the underside of the plastic tray and hopefully knock everything to the floor but her ankle cuffs kept her legs in place.  The she arched her lower back, trying to push the tray forward with her belly and hopefully knock it off the arms of the high chair.  But both attempts generated failures.  She was secured in that chair and wasn’t going to be able to wiggle or thrash herself free, no matter how hard she tried.

“Lemme ouuuuuut!” Dakota whined with a high-pitch voice, her exhaustion really starting to set in.  “LEMME OUUUUUT!”

But Maria paid her no attention at all.  Dakota looked down at the bar of soap and the flask of castor oil again, beginning to well with anger.  This was another one of those tests to push her to her limits, then allowing her to finally see the light – once she had tried every avenue of escape.  And it only infuriated her that much more that she actually knew what Maria was trying to get her to do.

“LEMME OUT! ………. NOW!” Dakota shrieked with a snarling growl in her tone, Maria not flinching at all at the sound of the screams.

Dakota really wasn’t in the mood for this anymore.  She was an emotionally-overloaded wreck this week and she never should have scheduled this five-day therapy session.  For as much as Maria was trying to get her to merely see that the pursuit of personal perfection was a waste of time, it sure seemed like it would take any even bigger amount of time to get Dakota to forget about trying to become perfect.

“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!” Dakota screamed, pausing to take in another deep breath of air before lifting her chin up and screaming again – as loud as she could.  “Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!”

She thought that the neighbors would have heard her for certain by now.  But the doorbell wasn’t ringing, no one was knocking on the front door and no one was looking through the windows.  Dakota was truly perplexed by this at first, but then realized that her neighbors probably heard all sorts of weird noises coming from inside Maria’s house.  And, having gotten to know the put-together individual Maria was, it made sense she would have explained to her ear-shot neighbors what her line of work was.

Scrunching her lips up, she lowered her chin and glared over at Maria who was still ignoring her completely.  Looking to the floor on the left side of the chair and then to the floor on the right side, Dakota looked back over at Maria again – raising an eyebrow and figuring that the cliché if ya can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em just might have some validity.  Instead of wasting her remaining energy on trying to yank her cuffed wrists and ankles free, she instead gripped the arms of the chair with her hands and wrapped her feet around the legs of the chair.  Then, she tried tipping the whole high chair over.  The bar of soap would go flying off the tray, the glass flask of castor oil would shatter when it hit the floor and then Maria couldn’t possibly ignore her anymore.  And, if Dakota was lucky, Maria just might get more than a little upset.  Though trying to make Maria angry went against Dakota’s convictions, nothing else was working for her just then and her chemicals were so imbalanced that her sound judgment was becoming imbalanced too.

Gritting her teeth, she tried to regain the composure she had lost and, with tenacity clouding the remains of any good judgment she might have still had, Dakota grunted – not for need to sound mean or fierce but in an effort to have a bowel movement.  Once the scent in her diaper permeated the kitchen air, Dakota was certain Maria would take notice and let her out of that high chair.  But no matter how hard she grunted and pushed, nothing came out.  This was no surprise.  She ate like a canary bird anyway.

“I WANNA GO HOME!” Dakota screamed with anger, then softening into tearful sobs.  “I wanna go home.”

But she wasn’t going anywhere.  With a severe case of exhaustion, she conceded the battle.  And when acceptance became her new body language, that was moment when Maria finally took notice of her again.

Standing up from the island table, Maria walked back to the counter, opening a drawer to get out a serving spoon and a bib … one with Hello Kitty designs on the front of it.  Walking back over in front of the high chair, Maria attached the bib around the girl’s neck and picked up the glass flask of castor oil.

“Castor oil will clear out the insides well.  That’s something a lady needs to do for herself from time to time,” Maria said, unscrewing the cap of the flask – Dakota doing all she could to prevent from screaming back into tantrums.  “It’s very good for flushing the small intestines.”

Dakota sighed deeply, seeing Maria filling that serving spoon with so much castor oil that she may as well have just gotten a ladle to feed her with.  Dakota had already received the castor oil treatment a few months ago when she spent session time with Misty and Morgan.  It was nothing new to her, but she could clearly remember its taste and the memories of unpleasantness were keeping her edgy.

“It has lots of Vitamin E in it, along with a bunch of other minerals,” Maria said setting the flask down and holding the spoon up, Dakota wanting to roll her eyes at how this was turning into a health class – but thinking better to not roll her eyes at all.  “It helps with complexion, clearing up blotchy skin, promotes a healthier look to your hair, relieves sore muscles and so many other benefits.”

Yeah.  Okay.  Got it.  Lots of good, useless knowledge.  But it didn’t make the forthcoming feeding look any more appealing than before.  And by the way, she wasn’t stupid at all.  She knew exactly what Maria meant by It’s very good for flushing the small intestines.

“Open,” Maria said, holding the serving spoon up to Dakota’s mouth – the poor girl lowering her chin and her lower lip pouting out as her forehead wrinkled with fussiness.  “It’s either the castor oil or that bar of soap.  The decision is your, Miss Potty Mouth.”

Dakota gently sobbed, not wanting to face the consequences of her actions.  And while she sobbed, she sadly realized that if she was in fact to reach that goal of personal perfection – foul language and poor attitude would have to become behaviors of the past.  And as if she could read the BabyGirl’s thoughts in the body language, Maria addressed that futile pursuit of perfection again.

“There is only one perfect you in this world,” Maria said – reaching down and taking hold of Dakota’s lowered chin with her left pointer finger and thumb, raising the girl’s chin and sliding the serving-sized spoonful of castor oil as far into the girl’s mouth as its width and her lips would allow.

Dakota looked up at Maria, her chin being held up in that position as the nasty muck filled her mouth.  The taste was all too familiar and Dakota scrunched up her face because of it.

“That’s a good girl,” Maria said with a sweet maternal tone, sliding the spoon out and pushing up under her chin to close the girl’s mouth.  “Now swallow.”

Dakota puffed her cheeks out, allowing the castor oil to even out across the inside her mouth in an effort to give the oil somewhere to go … other than down her throat, of course.  And the more she could prevent the sensation to swallow from happening, the better.  No, she wasn’t going to fight it.  She wasn’t going to spit the castor oil back out.  But she really didn’t want to swallow it, either.

“Be a good girl for Mommy,” Maria said sweetly, continuing to hold Dakota’s chin up – allowing time and the girl’s salivation to let nature take its course.  “Be the best you that you can be.”

Dakota’s eyes welled with new tears.  Maria was such a nice person and though she was forcing Dakota to do a few things she didn’t want to do, she remained nice about everything.  The whole point in spending time with Maria was to make another breakthrough.  Dakota saw it as a chance to prove that perfection was attainable.  Maria knew it to be otherwise and her goal was to help Dakota realize this.  And one little task at a time, one little swallow at time, Dakota was learning.

The castor oil suddenly rolled back over Dakota’s tongue and before she could prevent it from happening, she swallowed the muckiness.  Her entire face scrunched up and it took all the self-control she had left to keep her lips closed.  Yep, it was just as horrible now as it was when Misty made her swallow it.

Maria released the girl’s chin and Dakota closed her eyes, relaxing into the high chair and opening her mouth to allow fresh air in.  Oh, what a horrible taste that stuff had.  But before she could recover any more, she felt another serving-size spoonful of castor oil entering into her mouth.  Sensing Dakota might resist this second offering, Maria put her hand behind the girl’s head – preventing her from leaning back away from the spoon.

This time around, Dakota whimpered – remembering what one spoonful from Misty did to her bowels hours later but also not wanting to coat her stomach anymore with this stuff.

“A little lady doesn’t fuss like this,” Maria said with continued sweetness, Dakota raging inside once again as she finally made an attempt to free her restrained wrists and ankles.  “Swallow this one and it will be the last.”

Maria removed the spoon and closed the girl’s mouth again, holding her chin up and waiting from both nature and gravity to take effect.  Dakota’s nostrils flared, her irritability fueling her into anger.  And with exhaustion from her prior fighting, she was in even less of a mood to swallow the second spoonful than the first one.

“Is someone getting tired already?” Maria asked with that same continued sweetness as she took the spoon, the flask of castor oil and the bar of Ivory soap over to the kitchen sink.  “It’s so early in the day for a nap.  I can’t believe you need one.”

Dakota puffed her cheeks out again, allowing the castor oil to even out in her mouth and preparing herself to swallow it quickly.  She clearly got the message that foul language and hateful self-statements were not acceptable.  And Maria showed very unmistakenly how she never bluffed when she spoke of punishments.

Humility was just as hard to swallow as that castor oil, but Dakota had done better than she thought she would.  And this is what she contemplated as she boldly leaned her own chin up and swallowed the second mouthful.  But it tasted worse than the first one.  And, unfortunately, another bit of foul language escaped her lips.

“Fuck!” Dakota exclaimed, then sticking her tongue out and exaggerating how much the castor oil made her want to gag.

Maria set the spoon in the sink and turned to face Dakota.  No, Maria was showing no signs of anger.  But at the same time, she wasn’t smiling either.  She was being challenged yet again and it seemed Dakota needed a little alone time to deal with her attitude problem.

Walking up to the high chair, Maria detached the plastic tray – then walking it over to the sink and taking her time washing it off.  Then she walked back over to the high chair, leaning over and uncuffing the ankle restraints from the front legs of the chair.  Standing up, she denied eye contact with the girl, Dakota carefully watching her movements to see what was going to happen.  The challenge was certain on, but Dakota didn’t realize just yet that the challenge was already over.

Maria unfastened Dakota’s wrist cuffs from the arms of the chair and then brought the wrist cuffs together immediately.  Dakota tilted her head to the side, trying to figure out why Maria attached the wrist cuffs together.  But before she had another second to ponder, Dakota found herself being yanked down from that high chair.  Holding onto Dakota’s joined wrists cuffs, Maria made swift, high-heel clicking steps – out of the kitchen, down the hallway and towards the staircase.

“No, I don’t need to take a nap yet,” Dakota said quickly, doing her best to keep up with how fast Maria was moving.  “I don’t wanna take a nap yet!”

But Maria’s mind was made up and whether Dakota fought her or not, she was going to put the foul-mouthed BabyGirl to bed.  Dakota saw it otherwise.  But wearing nothing but a diaper, being cuffed at the wrists with waiting cuffs on her ankles as well – she really didn’t have any practical hope to fight for.  Still, Dakota tried.

“Noooo!” Dakota fussed as Maria started up the staircase, still holding the girl’s joined wrists cuffs.

In defense, Dakota took a seat on the first step, putting her diapered bottom right down on the tread and resisting the tugs from Maria.

“I don’t wanna go to bed yet!” Dakota yelled, trying to hold back a new welling of tears.

Diplomacy and reasoning, however, were finished concepts – tried but failed.  That fussy little diaper girl was going up those stairs and was going to be put in her crib for a nap, whether she assisted Maria of her own free will and volition or if she literally had to be dragged up to her nursery.

Dakota chose the latter.  Maria bent the girl’s elbows, pressing her forearms against her chest.  Then she got behind Dakota and wrapped her arms around her from behind, pinning the girl’s arms against her chest.  In this position, Dakota had a lesser ability to resist or fight back.  Maria stood up, still holding Dakota as she walked up the staircase backwards.

Oh, did Dakota thrash, to no avail of escape.  And oh, did Dakota scream, to no alert of the neighbors.  And when Maria got her to the top step, she put the girl down on her diapered bottom, grabbed the girl’s joined wrist cuffs and deliberately dragged her down the upstairs hallway to her nursery.

Getting into the nursery, Maria reached into the top drawer of the dresser, grabbing a pacifier gag and dragging Dakota over to the crib.  Maria lifted Dakota up and planted her on the crib mattress, tummy down – then disconnecting the girl’s joined wrist cuffs.  Sitting in the middle of Dakota’s back and holding her down, Maria took the girl’s left wrist, extending it up to the right corner of the head of the mattress where a simple carabiner link was waiting.  Hooking the girl’s left wrist cuff to that carabiner, Maria repeated the process – taking the girl’s right wrist and extending it up to the left corner of the head of the mattress.  Hooking that cuff into the waiting carabiner, Maria spun around on Dakota’s back, repeating this same process with both of the girl’s ankle cuffs and two more carabiners … one at each corner at the foot of the crib mattress.

And when Maria stood up, Dakota had been restrained to the crib by both ankles and wrists.  Her forearms and shins were crossed.  So she couldn’t move very much at all.  And the BabyGirl was bawling her eyes out.  Taking that pacifier gag, a simple pacifier that had been fitted into the center of a leather O-ring strap, Maria lifted the girl’s head up – putting the rubber nipple of the pacifier into the girl’s mouth and tying the leather straps at the back of the girl’s head.

Then, she pulled down the back of Dakota’s diaper, tucking it under her now-exposed bottom cheeks.  Instantly, Dakota stopped squirming – quieting completely.

“The next step is to begin spanking you,” Maria said with a calm tone, being sweet but also making clear that this was a final warning.

Dakota buried her face in her pillow, gently allowing her sobbing to return.  Maria got a comforter from the closet and picked up a baby doll from the shelf of toys.  Then, she walked back over to the crib side and pulled the back of Dakota’s diaper up over her bottom.  And with a gentle turn, she flipped Dakota over onto her back – the girl’s forearms and shins being relieved from their crossed positions.

“Mommy would love to place you on your tummy for your nap.  The proper position for a little lady to sleep in is on her tummy,” Maria said with maternal sweetness in her tone as she rested the baby doll up against Dakota’s side – covering her frame with the comforter.  “But you need to start acting like a little lady on a more regular basis first.”

Dakota looked up at Maria with helplessness in her eyes, nursing her pacifier and silently begging Maria for help.  There was a lot she was letting go of and in that week of overloaded emotions, she was having a very difficult time accepting that she couldn’t be perfect.

“It will get easier for you, BabyGirl,” Maria said sweetly – tucking the comforter in around her, leaning over and kissing the sobbing, whimpering girl on the forehead.  “You just have to stop fighting yourself.  I see nothing about you that needs changing … well, maybe a little something needs changing a bit later.”

Dakota smiled behind the pacifier gag, grateful for the light-hearted moment.

“I remember when I was your age,” Maria started.  “Everything would be fine one day and the next day I would get irritated when red lights didn’t turn green fast enough for me.  It was always something random like that that would always set me off.  So when I got wherever I was going, I would already be angry for no reason I could explain.”

Dakota nodded, more tears welling in her eyes.  Maria truly got it.

“And of course when people see you worked up, they ask you what’s wrong – expecting you to tell them as if they were entitled to the answer,” Maria said with softening tone, tears now welling slightly in her eyes too.  “And people try to help you, but they don’t realize that you really don’t need help.  You just need a little room and people won’t give it to you.”

Dakota’s eyelids grew heavy and they started to close-n-open on their own.  It seemed her exhaustion from tantrums and fussiness and everything else that had happened that day so far had finally drained her completely.  But maybe the one thing that brought her enough comfort ease to welcome the nap … was Maria herself – someone who could see into the center of her, someone who could see everything she already was and everything she would become … when the time was right.

But for just then, it was nap time for Dakota.  Nothing more.

“Others may not give you the room you need to figure it all out,” Maria said, raising the side of the crib.  “But I will.  And I‘ll give you all the time you need.  So long as you keep trying.”

Maria walked over to the door and lowered the lighting in the nursery before walking back downstairs.  She left the door open, knowing Dakota would need to hear a few random sounds as she napped to remind her that she wasn’t alone.

And as Dakota drifted off to sleep, she smiled – knowing that, for the time being at least, she was clean of troubling thoughts … like 99.44.

Dream LandFull Force II: Dream Land

This is the continuing journey of a girl named Dakota.

In Book One, she learned a lot about herself – an awakening, so to say.  In Book Two, she begins to look for the one thing she wants more than anything else in this world … a Daddy.

KindleNook PDF EbookSmashwords

—————

………….. The Full Force Series

   

Full Force I: Dakota
Full Force II: Dream Land
Full Force III: Extreme
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9 responses to “99.44

  1. Pingback: 99.44 – Part Two of Two | zorrodaddy.com

  2. Pingback: Full Force: Book Two | zorrodaddy.com

  3. Pingback: The Full Force Series | zorrodaddy.com

  4. Pingback: Dilemma – Part One of Two | zorrodaddy.com

  5. Pingback: Dilemma – Part Two of Two | zorrodaddy.com

  6. Pingback: Swinging The Mood – Part One of Four | zorrodaddy.com

  7. Pingback: Swinging The Mood – Part Two of Four | zorrodaddy.com

  8. Pingback: Swinging The Mood – Part Three of Four | zorrodaddy.com

  9. Pingback: Swinging The Mood – Part Four of Four | zorrodaddy.com

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