How to Dream Big About Being Little

Taken from the dream scenario book:

The Crinklebury Tales

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here is a one BabyGirl’s vision of what to dream about … and more importantly, why.

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How to Dream Big About Being Little – Part One

Thursday morning – 4:15am

Vaughn pulled into the next travel center that appeared on the turnpike.  It had been more than four hours of driving already and everyone needed to stretch their legs, at this point.  Some of the passengers needed a change as well.  But whatever the individual reasons were, breaking the monotony of the road trip was paramount.

“Come on, baby,” Georgia said to Elena, opening the side door of the Suburban as everyone filed out and began stretching their limbs.

Georgia was the ever-ready Mommy of the group, no matter where they were or what they were doing – even though she was submissive herself.  And Elena was the ever-ready baby of the group, as shy as could be but as sweet as could be too.  And, stepping out of the Suburban, Elena was likely the only one of them who hadn’t soaked through her diaper in those first four hours of travel.

Taking hold of Georgia’s hand and heading into the travel center, Elena was filled with excitement for the destination that was only another four hours away … CrinkleCon, the summertime ABDL convention that had been creating a buzz online.  And while being excited by that, she was also excited  by the stories people had been telling on the trip so far … personal dream scenarios – where everything worked out perfectly, where cookies possessed no calories and where everyone was as accepting as hope would allow.

Everyone in the caravan jumped at the idea of telling their dream scenarios in story form … except for the super-shy Elena.

But as she walked into the travel center, stopping at the electric road map and seeing the remainder of their overnight journey, she began to wonder if she would have enough courage to tell the rest of the group about her dream scenario.  Filled with insecurities, Elena hoped the others wouldn’t hear her dream story and think it to be too shallow.  That would be a detrimental set-back for her, to pour something straight out of her heart and to have it trampled all over.

Everyone in the group seemed nice, though.  They always had.  They were all very friendly with her and for as long as she knew them, they had always protected her.  Being overly-shy wasn’t always a bad thing.  But she had a big decision to make.

Hearing the sound of diaper tapes being pulled on, a multiplying noise coming from the guy’s bathroom, Elena covered her mouth – trying to prevent herself from snorting with laughter.  Thank goodness there was no one else in that travel center at 4:15 in the morning.

As she stood there, waiting for the others, Elena went through a series of fluctuating decisions – convincing herself that she could tell everyone her dream scenario and then doubting she could do it the next second.  She likely would have continued doing this all night long, had Vaughn not emerged from the guy’s bathroom – determined to keep their trek to CrinkleCon in motion.

“Everybody ready?” Vaughn asked.  “Good.  Let’s saddle up.”

And back out of the travel center they all went, Elena seeing the opportunity before her.

“So … can you tell me the rules of the story game again?” Elena asked nervously.

“There really aren’t any rules, honey,” Georgia said to her softly, answering her truthfully but trying to prevent the girl from crawling back into her shell – especially since it sounded like Elena might now be willing to tell her dream scenario story.

“It’s very simple,” Vaughn said, trying to keep Elena calm.  “The story that you tell is your dream scenario.  It doesn’t have to be realistic at all or it can be so realistic that we can actually feel and envision the story as you tell it.  It is your dream scenario.  So dazzle us with it.”

Everyone piled back into the suburban, the tell-tale scent of fresh powder filling the vehicle.  And as Vaughn drove them back onto the turnpike, everyone sat perfectly still and quiet, awaiting the beginning of Elena’s dream scenario story.  She was the last likely person in the group to be courageous enough to tell a story.  So it was very exciting for all to see how wrong they were.

“Okay,” Elena started, then pausing for a moment to think of where to begin. “The story itself is probably gonna be easier to say than the explanation.”

“It always is,” Sabrina remarked from the back – everyone agreeing that reasons were the hardest thing to put to words.

“But, um …,” Elena began again.  “I have always been rushed into things by certain people in my life.  Sometimes I was told to hurry up and get ready.  Sometimes, I was told to make up my mind a little quicker.  Sometimes, I was told to just listen and do what was being asked of me.  And when I would take bold steps forward, doing what people were telling me to do, I was often criticized for the decisions I made.  I don’t know, I guess some people can bounce back from things like that.  But I’m not one of those people.  I take everything to heart and sometimes I feel like I get trampled on.  I mean, I truly believe I’m doing what people want me to do – only to find out that I wasn’t doing the right things.  And the harsh words of others have made me even more reluctant in general.  I believe this is the reason why I am so shy all the time.”

Elena paused, closing her lips and looking out the window to collect herself for a second before continuing.  Georgia reached over and put her arm around the girl, comforting her through the difficult moment.

“I think I can see where this dream scenario is headed,” Georgia said with a knowing smile.

“So can I,” Ray said, reaching up from the back seat and putting his hand into the back of Elena’s hair – lightly dragging his fingers down her scalp as he often did when she got worked up about something.

“But the truth is …,” Elena said, a smile returning to her face as she was about to make a confession that was little embarrassing.  “Sometimes I need to be rushed by someone.  You know, given that judicial push required in order toget me out of my funk.”

“Everybody needs somebody.  You bet,” Ray said, supportively.

“So my dream scenario would be to meet a gentle Daddy who knew the difference between when it was right to have patience with me and when it was necessary to push me forward,” Elena continued.

“Get comfortable, everybody,” Vaughn said from behind the wheel.  “This is gonna be good.”

Oleg and Yara turned around in the front seat to face Elena behind them.  Alan turned around from the shotgun seat.  And all eyes were on her … except for Vaughn who needed to drive.

“My dream scenario is about a first time encounter with a male co-worker I will call Antonio,” Elena began.

“This sounds like a Zorro Daddy story already,” Sabrina whispered to Ray.

“So Antonio and I work at the same place and we have become very friendly with each other.  We have dated a few times, in a vanilla-ish casual way.  I have grown comfortable being around him and he is able to make me laugh so hard that I sometimes squeal when laughing,” Elena said with a smile, already indulging her own senses with the story.  “But one day at work he sends me the most eye-opening text I have ever received.  He briefly describes the Daddy’s Girl fetish and then attaches a link to a website that explains it a little more for me.  Now, obviously, I don’t need any explanation.  But I’m not gonna tell him that.  I am gonna play stupid and see where this goes.”

“Aww,” Yara said, ogling at the sweetness of the start of this tale.

“At lunch that day, he invites me to give it a try for a weekend at his place.  I do my best to not jump out of my seat when he asks, but I give a modest yes in reply. And we schedule the get-together for that Friday,” Elena said, shifting in her seat as she felt the tingles of her own thought.  “The next two days take forever to get through and the whole time, as I’m fantasizing about what to expect at his place, I’m also wondering if he has picked up on something and if he knows that I am a BabyGirl already.  I succumb to the fact that I will never be brave enough to ask him this and I fall into the belief that he picked up on it from little idiosyncrasies of my personality.”

“Little what?” Alan asked.

“Idiosyncrasies,” Vaughn said to him.  “Characteristics, quirks.”

“So my story begins that Friday evening as we arrive at his apartment,” Elena continued.  “We left work that afternoon, got a bite to eat, strolled around downtown for a few hours and then drove straight to his place, getting there just in time to see the sunset…”

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Elena’s Dream Scenario

Antonio lives in a very nice apartment complex.  There are four floors to the buildings and he lives on the top.  Oh my, he looks so handsome and he opens all the doors for me … an absolute gentleman.  He opens the front door of his apartment and I walk in.  And yeah, it’s a bachelor pad, for sure.  But it’s also clean.  I don’t bother to find out if he had just cleaned the apartment for my arrival there that weekend.  Even if he had just recently clean it and normally lived a little dirtier, that’s okay – because he has shown initiative in cleaning it … plus, he cleaned it for me!  And that makes me feel extra special.

He doesn’t take me on a tour of his apartment, instead leading me straight into the living room.  It looks very cozy, complete with plush carpeting and leather sofas.  There’s an enormous flat screen TV and surround-sound speakers – the typical set-up for any tech-savvy guy who wants to feel the football games he watches.

So I take a seat on one of the sofas and I can tell right away that standing back up will be difficult.  And besides, there are so super-comfy that I don’t think I will want to stand back up for a while.  Antonio goes into his kitchen and comes back promptly with a bottle of Pinot Noir and two wine glasses.

Oh, yes.  I could already use a little help taking the edge off my heightened senses.  But I’m not uncomfortable at all, just antsy, I guess.  We begin to exchange pleasantries, just idle chit-chat about work and other things and I can tell already that he is allowing me the time to get really comfortable.  All of these observations are good signs.  He is being patient with me.  And at first, I don’t know how to react to this because no one is ever patient with me.  But I can tell that some sort of bond between us has already begun to take form.

“This is a really nice place,” I say to him, getting even more comfortable by the minute.

And then he says the most wonderful thing.

“I’m soon ready to buy my first house and I won’t be living in this apartment much longer,” he says, pouring wine into my glass.

Oh my, ambition!  That’s attractive.  Very attractive.

And the more we talk, the more it seems that we will never run out of things to talk about.  We have differences, which are good.  But we also have things in common, right from the start.  I wanna pinch myself to check if I’m dreaming.  But then I remember that I am dreaming.  No pinch necessary.

I can feel my heart beating faster and faster as my fantasies beckon and oh, my pulse is racing.  I admit this to him.  And he knows how to respond.

“I’m excited too,” he says.  “That’s what the wine is for … to help take off that edge.”

Wait a minute?  He’s excited too?  Oh my, this is the kind of dream I want to live.

I see him reaching into a bag along the one side of the sofa and he takes something out of it, holding it behind his back.  Then he gets down on one knee in front of me and I all but freak out completely.  There is no way he is about to propose marriage to me, right?

“Elena Marie,” he says, his timbre slipping into that tone that harbors the Daddy Voice.  “Will you do me the honor ……… of accepting these three gifts?”

And then he bring his hands out from behind his back and there are three packages, wrapped in pink tissue paper – a medium-sized box, a small box and a tiny box that looked like it could have held an engagement ring.  I smile at him as he sets these packages next to me on the sofa and I immediately pick up the biggest one first.  I set it on my lap and begin to carefully open it.  But Antonio has gone back over to that bag by the end of the sofa.

So I open the first package to find this super-soft pink blanket.  I close my eyes and rub it across my cheeks to feel the softness.  When I open my eyes, I see Antonio has brought the bag over to the center of the living room.

I put the blanket around my shoulders and pick up the middle-sized package, opening it and finding a white teddy bear that looks a lot like the one in the Coca-Cola commercials.  I bury my face in the top of the bear’s head and give it a big hug.  And when I look up, I see he has begun to take all sorts of things out of the bag – setting them in the middle of the room, on the rug.

So, with the pink blanket around my shoulders and the teddy bear sitting on my lap, I pick up the tiniest package and carefully open it to find a pacifier.  It was gleaming white with an enormous nipple, the silicone kind that seems to keep better than the rubber ones.  I melt, sitting there and looking at the pacifier.  It is at that moment that I realize what he is supplying me with – what he likes to call, the BabyGirl Essentials – the blankie, the teddy bear and the pacifier.

It is also at that moment that I begin to pay attention to what he is setting up in the middle of the living room rug.

It looks like a blue yoga mat to start, but then he puts some other sort of padded blanket on top of it.  Then he pulls out more stuffed animals and even a Barbie Doll.  I blush when I see the Barbie as I remember that a week ago I told him how I once had a collection of 50 of them when I was young. 

Grabbing the two blankets that were on the sofa, he bundles them up and creates little walls around the yoga mat.  Then he turns and looks at me.  And in his eyes, I can see that endearing gaze of … well, I guess I’ll call it the “Daddy look”. 

He comes over to me and kneels down again, taking the pacifier from my right hand.  I lower my chin with shyness.  I have all sorts of butterflies fluttering around inside me just then.  And as gently as possible, he places two fingers under my chin – calloused as his finger tips are, but still gentle with handling.  He raises my chin back up and I look into those Daddy eyes of his to see kindness.

At that moment, that is what I needed to see in him more than anything else.  And seeing it, I become relaxed … very relaxed, which is a feeling I don’t often have.  Then he whispers to me.

“Open,” he says very softly as he touched the tip of the pacifier nipple to my bottom lip.

Oh, he is enchanting.  And, mesmerized by him, I open my mouth with no fear or angst at all.  Antonio is in charge and he wields his power with a softened fist.  Without worry that I will do something wrong, it becomes very easy for me to follow his directions.  I find focus because I’m not preoccupied with waiting for that moment when I know I will disappoint someone.

And then he begins to undress me, lifting my right foot up and sliding my shoe off.

“A lot of the girls at work wear torture devices on their feet but you have the smarts to wear something that will feel good as well as look good,” Antonio says as he then lifts my left foot up, sliding my other shoe off.  “You stand out from all the others in a lot of ways, Elena.”

Putting both of my feet together, he wraps his hands around them and presses his thumbs into my soles – working the muscle tensions out.  His hands are big already, which makes me happy with anticipation for other things to come … hopefully.  But his hands seem bigger still, when wrapped around my feet.  And he definitely knew how to make a massage produce the full effects of relief.

Then he parts my feet and legs, sliding right up to the edge of the sofa on his knees.  He places his hands on the outside of my thighs and slides them up under my skirt – all the way up to my waist.  Taking hold of the top of my white nylons, he peels them down – his knuckles pressing into the back of my panties along the way.

“And you definite have a grace about you when you move around the office,” Antonio says while slowly drawing the nylons down off my legs.  “Every step you make gets my attention.  You float past me with poise and that sweet scent of you follows shortly after.”

Setting the nylons on the ground, he reaches up behind me and lowers the zipper on the back of my black skirt.  He is saying all the right things, calling up past memories of points in time when he noticed me.  That’s exactly what I want to hear.  I always hear that.  I always want to know that the efforts I put into my appearance draw attention and once the attention is there, it is me they take notice of.

“Your outfits always show off your figure while also being comfortable to wear and to move in,” Antonio says as he slides my skirt down my lower half and off my feet.  “And the materials always have the right sheen to draw eyes.”

I start to nurse on my pacifier, being hypnotized by his voice and by what he is saying.  I thought I would be spending time with him as his BabyGirl, but I can now see that it will be so much more than just that.

He begins unbuttoning my silk blouse and I smile warmly, though I’m shifting all over the place as another flock of butterflies fills me.  I watch him undoing each button and I think about all the different materials of clothing that I own and wear.  And he’s right.  Things like silk feel wonderful when I wear them, but they also draw a little more attention my way.  And it’s always a blessing when it’s the right kind of attention, from someone you want to give you attention.

“You wear everything well, Elena … including that smile I can see, tucked away behind your pacifier,” he says as he takes the lapels of my blouse and pushes them back over my shoulders.

The sliding silk feels glorious and the fact that I am down to my undergarments is filling me with all sorts of feelings that are traveling throughout my body at a rapid-fire pace.  The blouse slides down my back and stops on my sides at my elbows.  He and I are both staring at my cleavage, nestled inside the lacy edges of my bra.  For as personal as the encounter had been to that point, it gets even more personal now … and quickly.

He reaches behind me and unfastens the strap of my bra, the support letting out and making me close my eyes.  You know, it’s like that first moment when you get home and take off your work clothes and then … become more casual.  It feels good.  And I know he likely won’t be putting me back in a bra the rest of the weekend.

Lowering the shoulder straps down my arms, he takes the bra away.  And suddenly, I’m left in nothing but my panties.  Oh my.  I feel little already.  I slide my center towards him a bit, expecting him to reach to the back of my panties and start sliding them off my body as well.  But he doesn’t do that.  Instead, he slips his hands under my bottom, gripping both of my tushy cheeks and then picking me as he stands to his feet.

I wrap my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck as I hug him for dear life.  But his big hands are attached to strong arms and he easily holds me without trouble.

“I often wondered what you would look like naked,” Antonio whispers in my right ear as he pats the back of my underwear.  “I undress you every day … in my mind.”

I lay the side of my face on his right shoulder, nursing on my pacifier and looking down at the little play area he has set up for me in the middle of the living room rug.  I imagine myself lying in the middle of it, looking up at him and really starting to regress.

I’m almost there and he is allowing me time to remain comfortable.  But even I know that the time is now.  He kneels on the rug, stilling holding me in his arms.  And he whispers to me, but with a different tone and with a different message – as if he had shed my adult outer shell when undressing me.

He sets me down gently on my bottom.  All I’m wearing are my little white panties and my earrings.  He places one hand on my lower back and the other hand on the back of my neck as he leans me backwards, down onto the middle of that yoga mat.  I come to rest in the middle of the little play area, stuffies all around me and blankets completely surrounding me with Barbie sitting in the corner.

Oh my, I could get lost in such a perfect place.  With every bit of comfort around me, it very much is, once again, about the material.  But the softest material of all is about to be introduced into this dream scenario.

“You’re beautiful, Elena.  As stunning as always,” Antonio says, reaching up to my waist line and lowering my panties to my ankles.

Oh, Holy naked!  But oh, what a wonderful feeling … to be free of everything that made me an adult.

“And what an adorable BabyGirl you are, too,” Antonio says with deep timbre in a syrupy-sweet way.

I tingle all over, suddenly feeling very, very naked.  But I don’t shift or tremble or shake.  Instead, I see him reaching into the bag on the floor.  And I know what he’s reaching for.

Upon first sight of the diaper, I melt into that yoga mat.  The biggest, brightest smile imaginable forms behind that pacifier between my lips.  And without a shred of will power or self-control remaining, I draw my knees up.  I part my legs and put myself in an even more vulnerable position.  I’ve become addicted to feeling helpless.

“Aww, how cute is that?  You remembered the ‘baby position’ we talked about.  What a good little girl you are,” Antonio says with his sweetest Daddy Voice yet.  “I have a feeling you’re gonna be nothing but a good little girl for me.”

He begins to unfold the crinkly diaper and that wonderful sound rings in my ears.  I’m feeling dizzy for how excited I am and I am very thankful for being on my back.  I don’t think I can stand up, not yet anyway … and maybe never again.

He places the diaper flat on the mat beneath me and I raise my bottom up slightly.

“I don’t think we’ll need wipes yet,” Daddy says, sliding the back of the diaper up to meet the waist line at my lower back.  “At least not until you wet yourself.”

Then he reaches into the bag again, taking out a container of baby powder and I tingle all over again, not just from the sight of the powder but also because my tailbone is lightly touching the inner softness of the diaper beneath me and I’m already imagining what it will feel like when Daddy wraps me up in it.

Daddy positions himself in front of me and places his right forearm on the middle of my parted hamstrings.  Pushing me upward just a tiny bit more, he raises my bottom just a bit more as well and then he sprinkles the powder across the center of my cheeks.  Instantly, I freeze in place, but not because it hurts.  It actually feels wonderful and it’s very cool … also very silky.  I close my eyes and place my hands on either side of my head.  My fingers curl up and I softly whimper behind my pacifier.

Then he starts caressing the powder across my entire bottom, from my tailbone all the way up to my sit spots.  By the strong, sweet scent in the air, I can tell that he has coated me with a lot of powder.  And every caressing touch of his fingertips is making me swoon.  Though my eyes are closed I feel dizzy, like I’m spinning around inside my own head.

And he speaks to me again … with the same gentle tone as before.

“That’s a good girl,” he says with breathy whisper.

I can still make out what he says, but there’s such interference in my mind.  It’s like I can hear a radio station, but someone keeps changing the frequency.  And the arrival of so many sensations is making it impossible for me to have any focus at all, at this point.

But I’m still not complaining.  To the contrary, I love the fact that no matter which way I turn my head or which thoughts fill my mind, I still can’t escape Daddy’s presence and how Daddy is touching me, taking care of me … babying me.  It all feels so amazingly wonderful.

Then Daddy takes hold of my hips and guides my bottom down into the softness of the diaper.  I’m almost at an overload point already and he is pushing me further still, but he is doing so in such a calm fashion that I never grow fearful of anything … just overloaded.  That’s all.  And what finer feeling is there for a BabyGirl to be overloaded with than the pleasure of senses?

At that moment, it is all I know and all I want.  My bottom becomes enveloped in the nestle of the diaper.  It feels so thick I can’t imagine how it will fit the rest of the way around me.

With my knees still bent and my legs still parted, I gaze up at him from the ‘baby position’.  And he speaks to me again.

“Daddy is very proud of you for being so calm and so good,” he says as I tingle all over again … and this time, on my scalp as well.

“You’re a sweet little princess,” he says as he sprinkles the powder on my front.

I feel the coolness again and smell the sweetness of another heavy coating as he uses both hands to caress the powder across my front, spreading the silkiness from hip to hip.  I have already passed through the lands of Utopia, Euphoria and Ecstasy.  And I’m headed towards a Great Unknown destination.

Then he takes the powder between my legs and I breathe in deeply through my nose.  I do my best to keep the pacifier from falling out my mouth.  But this is the most wonderful sensation I’ve felt yet.  I am happily having trouble finding places to send those sensations in the corners of my mind.  Overload suddenly doesn’t seem like a bad thing.

“That’s a good girl,” he whispers oh-so-softly as he uses both hands to caress the powder down evenly to the base of my bottom.

I feel like more than a Princess.  I feel like the Queen of his world.  And for once in my life, I know I am truly wanted … truly needed.  I know I’ll never be without his big hands to care for me, never without his big heart to love me and never without his presence to keep me safe.

He takes a wipe to his hands, cleaning the powder off and then waving his hands in the air to dry them.  I laugh at what he’s doing.  Even when he is fulfilling my fantasy, he’s still the same great guy that always makes me laugh whenever the opportunity arises.

Taking hold of the front waist line of the diaper, he folds the front up slowly and allows the leg gathers to connect snuggly with me before flattening the diaper on my front.  Then he fastens the tapes at my hips.  The tape noises make my heart beat just a bit faster than it is already.

“What a little angel doll you are,” Daddy says to me as he fastens the last tape and then begins to gather up my big girl clothing.

I smile brightly behind my pacifier at this first moment to calmly enjoy being wrapped so snuggly in a diaper.  I reach down between my parted and drawn legs, putting my hands on the front of my diaper.  I’m practically rolling around from how good it feels and I know that a zenith of sensations are still to follow but I’m determined to enjoy the present as much as what is to come.

Being diapered isn’t a new sensation for me.  I wear a diaper every day.  But I now know there is nothing quite like being diapered by someone else, especially when he’s the Daddy of my dreams.

Daddy returns to me, leaning over top of me and slipping his left hand behind my now-diapered bottom.  He hands me the teddy bear that I sat next to me when he placed me on my back.  Gathering up the pink blanket, he slides his right hand and forearm straight up the center of my spine.  Then he lifts me up into his arms.  I wrap my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck as he stands up.

My Daddy is so strong.

He carries me over to the other end of the sofa from where I was sitting earlier.  Taking a seat, he keeps me on his lap and I keep hugging him until he slides me back towards his knees.  Reaching into that bag again, he takes out a white baby-t with the tiniest little short sleeves I’ve ever seen.  I truly don’t believe it is big enough to fit me, but Daddy proves otherwise.  I lift my hands to the sky and he slides the baby-t down them.  It’s snug on me, but it fits.  And on the front of this baby-t is the decal picture of a unicorn.  Under the unicorn is the word ‘Moonbeam’.  That must be its name.  And since my fantasy has become real that must mean that other things unreal have changed too.

I think for a moment that I can be no happier than the present.  That my wiggliness can’t make my diaper crinkle any louder and that my love for Daddy can’t come gushing out of me any faster.  There is no way this dream scenario can get any better.

But I find out that I am wrong about that, too.

Daddy takes out a hair brush and quickly begins to brush my hair smooth before the thought I might be getting spanked ever enters my mind.  This is one of those moments when Daddy needs to be very clear with his intentions before I begin to worry about the wrong thing.  And I love the fact he understands when the time is necessary to go faster … and when the time is necessary to slow down to the pace of my dreams.

He is able to get every hair on my head completely smooth and laying flat.  He has parted my hair perfectly in the middle and then he begins to braid my hair into pigtails!  This is another one of those moments when no pinch is needed to know that I am dreaming.

What male knows how to braid a BabyGirl’s hair?  Let me answer my own question there.  The Daddy of my dreams knows how to do it.  And the pigtails he makes are perfect when he is done with them.

Daddy then cradles me in his arms, keeping me wrapped in that pink blanket as he gives me more attention than I can handle.  ‘Overload’ becomes an understatement.  The room goes blurry in my eyes, but Daddy’s face remains sharp in my vision.  His words don’t seem to have any meaning that I can understand, but his voice sounds so soothing and his tone is so inviting.  Whatever he is saying to me, it must be wonderful.  But all I am interested in is just listening to his Daddy Voice.

I nestle against his chest as he gently rocks me.  The smell from his shirt is a perfect mixture of his cologne, the detergent his clothing was washed in and his natural body scent.  He rocks me back and forth so slowly and so gently that I don’t want him to stop.  I don’t want this dream to stop.  I melt for him.

And as he rocks me gently, he reaches behind me and pats my diapered bottom repeatedly.  It reminds me of the padding that I’ve already become accustomed to wearing.  I still have little moments when it all feels so awkward, but they’re only little moments that give way to how it all feels so right.

I don’t know what hour of the night it is, only that the sun has set.  I don’t even know how long I lay there on his lap.  But after a while, he lifts me up into his arms again and stands up.  Then he carries me around his apartment, giving me a tour of his place.  I keep my legs and arms wrapped around him for the ride and I am gushing at how he describes his home to me.

“This is the bathroom where Daddy uses the bathroom.  And this is the bedroom where Daddy sleeps.  And this is the guest room where you will take your naps,” Daddy says as he opens the door to that room.

It very much looks like a guest room, except for the crib in the corner.  He actually has a crib!  And it is decorated in pink all over, from sheets to pillows to even more stuffed animals.  I stare at the crib in disbelief, doing all I can to keep the pacifier from falling out of my mouth again.  But it does anyway and Daddy’s hand is there to catch it.

“We’ll come back to this room later,” Daddy says as he puts the pacifier back in my mouth and carries me back into the hallway.

As he heads for the kitchen, I rest my chin on his right shoulder as I look back at the guest room door.  Oh, my.  I’ve never been in a crib before.  Well …… not since I was a baby girl … the first time around.

“I think you need to spend the rest of this weekend just the way you are now,” Daddy says as he carries me into the kitchen.

There are no complaints from me about that.  I will stay with him this way for the rest of my life, if he tells me to.

He keeps me on his left hip, his left arm holding me there as he reaches up to the cupboard with his right hand.  He gets down a coffee mug and also a baby bottle – a plastic one with a pink cap and a unicorn on the side of it. I blush and bury my face in his left shoulder.

And before anyone says it …yes, in my dream scenario, I am a little shy too.

“Sometimes a BabyGirl has trouble unwinding at the end of the day,” Daddy says as he opens the fridge and gets out a half gallon of milk.  “But there are ways to help her relax.”

Daddy pours milk into the coffee cup and then puts the coffee cup in the microwave for 30 seconds.

I look at the baby bottle, staring at the unicorn on its side.  It’s yet another moment of no pinch required.  I have never told Antonio that I love unicorns.  I start wondering what else might have unicorns on it in his house.  Maybe those crib sheets had unicorns on them.

There something majestic and masculine about unicorns.  I don’t know why I like them, but I do.

And before I get another moment to figure the fascination out, the microwave dings and Daddy takes the coffee cup of milk out.  He pours it into the baby bottle and puts more cold milk in the bottle until it’s full.  He puts the cap on it and picks up it.

Carrying me back into the living room, he takes a seat on the carpet.  Leaning back against the front of the sofa, he cradles me across his lap.  I’m wrapped in that pink blanket and hugging my teddy bear when he takes the pacifier out of my mouth.  And that’s the moment when I get an uncontrollable case of the wigglies. 

Maybe it’s because I know I’m about to get my bottle.  Maybe it’s because I suddenly have a Daddy to make a fuss over me.  Maybe it’s because the butterflies returned inside me.  But whatever the reason was for the tingle that made a worm out of me, I crinkle up a storm as I try to find a comfortable position.

Seeing I am having no luck, Daddy helps me find something else to focus on … him.  He touches the warm rubber nipple of the baby bottle to my lower lip and I open my mouth just enough for him to slide the nipple in.  Closing my lips around it, I draw in the first of many little mouthfuls of milk.  Swallowing the little gulp, I gaze up at him.

He is such a handsome man and such a kind Daddy.  He has given me everything I need.  And maybe that’s the moment when I realize how I really don’t need very much to be happy.  I just need a few fantasy basics … and him.

Being so physically close to him and getting over the wigglies with a little well-timed distraction, I begin to notice little details about him.  He has scar tissue just above his upper lip but below the right side of his nose.  His eyelashes get a bit longer, the closer they get to the bridge of his nose.  And his jaw is chiseled, sharp yet shapely.

I reach up and with my right hand tracing the features of his face with my fingertips, I continue to take in tiny gulps of the warm milk.  It certainly does the trick of calming my down.  I can feel it coating my stomach and ushering me closer and closer to sleep.  Yet I’ve never fallen asleep easily, at least not until this very moment.

I honestly don’t remember how much of the milk I swallowed before I fell asleep, but I do remember hearing his voice say:

“Daddy will be right here with you, all night long.  So Dream Big about Being Little.”

And that was how I feel asleep.

—————

“Wow, now that was a great story,” Vaughn said, interrupting Elena’s dream scenario.  “You really do know what your heart desires.”

“I love how you started by calling him Antonio but then called him Daddy when he put you in that diaper,” Sabrina added.

Elena leaned back and smiled.

The Crinklebury TalesThe Crinklebury Tales

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—————
 
………………….. The HodgePodge Series 

The Dynamic Story From Sun Up to Sun Down Deja Vu Lucy BabyLove Climax  
Crimson Snake Eyes The Crinklebury Tales Sad girl holding a teddy bear
The Dynamic Story
From Sun Up to Sun Down: The ABDL 3-Way Experience
Johnny and the Princess
Deja Vu: Inamorata to Illuminati
Lucy
BabyLove
Climax
Crimson
Snake Eyes
The Crinklebury Tales
60 Degrees and Down the Crack
The ABDL Any Time Reader
Forever Young
A Girl Named Love
Storytellers
Layers
Flashback
 

 

2 responses to “How to Dream Big About Being Little

  1. Pingback: How to Dream Big About Being Little – Part 2 of 2 | zorrodaddy.com

  2. Pingback: The Crinklebury Tales | zorrodaddy.com

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