Taken from the ABDL romance saga:
(Available on: Kindle and Kindle Unlimited )
here is a little story about a pursuit that was … long overdue.
The Great American Diner. That was the meeting place agreed upon by both of them, Drake and Emma.
It was a comfortable setting for their first face-to-face meeting. Oh, they had spent quite a bit of time in the past month – exchanging emails, Skyping and talking on the phone. But their schedules just didn’t seem to wanna line up … until now. And The First Date was long overdue. But unlike many shotgun decisions, they knew a lot about each other before that night. So they weren’t strangers at all, but the physical meeting hadn’t taken place yet. And it was time.
Drake sat in the corner booth of that diner, watching the last of the Sunday afternoon rush finish their meals and leave. He had only been sitting there for a few minutes, but he knew he would be sitting there a little while longer before she arrived. And he was fine with that.
It was the end of the weekend and traffic was picking up as those Saturday/Sunday road trip warriors were clogging the roads on their journeys back home. There was no way around it. Emma was caught in the traffic and texting her apologies to him.
Emma: Ugh! I am so sorry about this. We’re bumper to bumper and crawling so slowly! What horrible timing? I should have left a bit sooner. I’m sorry.
Drake: Don’t be sorry. Lateness is no crime. So there is no need for apologies. Personally, I blame the automotive industry for not having created cars that fly yet. They are directly responsible for the heavy traffic tonight.
Drake: I ordered you a glass of water with extra ice, no lemon. I hope I got that right.
Emma: Yes you did!
Emma: I love you. XOXO
Drake smiled brightly, texting the same sentiment right back to her. Then a picture message appeared on his phone, one of her sitting in her car – from her knees up to her midriff. She had lifted up the front of her flowy skirt to reveal the gleaming white diaper she was wearing. And on the front that diaper she had written one word: Baby – in cursive pink letters that looked too perfect to have been written so freely.
Yet, the truth was: Emma had indeed written those letters free-hand. She was an architect and good handwriting was her way of life.
Drake: Good Girl.
Drake: Now stop texting me while driving. LOL
Drake: I’ll see you soon. Be safe.
Drake smiled, setting his phone down and sipping from his coffee. Having gotten to know Emma had been a breath of fresh air, the lone beam of sunshine on a cloudy overcast day. They matched so perfectly in the necessary way. He was a Daddy. She was BabyGirl.
That was the initial reason they began to look at each other’s profiles. But as they started communicating, he detected a little something about her that he hadn’t seen in too many others. Emma was a very down-to-Earth individual – someone with a drive, a career and a desire to not disrupt what was going so well in her life in an effort to go chasing after the possibility of dynamic love. There was no sense of a wanted-balance in that approach. It often spelled trouble.
And it was because of this that his interest in her grew and grew exponentially. She was open about herself, making clear the demands of her life that couldn’t change as well as stating what she so passionately wanted to change in her life, given the right opportunity.
Getting onto her profile, Drake read the first paragraph in her about me section. He had read it so many times that he had it memorized:
My name is BabyGirl19603. I am one of many, but I am the only one I need to be. I lead a balanced life and that is why I am happy. But the world has endless possibilities and I long to pursue the unpursued.
I write poetry and I am looking for a Daddy to sweeten my prose.
The statement that “a picture and paragraph doesn’t tell you who someone is” was in fact a very truthful one. Emma understood this and chose to use her picture and paragraph as a mere introduction.
It was refreshing to meet someone who wore no façades, but also understood the delicate intricacies of only giving out so much information about herself upfront. The internet was an amazing tool, her gateway to the world and her helper in pursuing a fuller life. But it wasn’t a message board to her, there for her to hang her every little whim around everyone’s neck like an albatross.
While waiting, he scrolled back through some of the previous texts they shared. There was one particular text exchange he liked the most:
Drake: What is the greatest quality you seek in a Daddy?
Emma: Wanting to feel seen.
Drake: To feel seen?
Emma: Yeah. Not just being heard when I speak. But being heard when I’m not speaking at all. A Daddy who has spent time paying attention and can tell what I’m thinking/feeling by looking at me.
Drake: Now that is a real answer, right there. And it sounds like it comes from the need to be able to trust someone with the pieces of our hearts that we don’t freely give up.
Emma: Exactly! XOXO
Emma: If a girl is sitting across the room from you and you aren’t picking up on the fact that she is suffering emotionally and on the verge of tears, she will begin to trust you less. It will naturally lead her there.
Emma: She will think, “If he can’t see that I am hurting now, how long will it take him to figure it out?”
Emma: “Will I be suffering for days or weeks before he is aware of it or cares enough to help me through this?”
Emma: “I’ll have to rely on myself for my own emotional support.”
Drake: But you understand Daddy’s aren’t mind readers, right?
Emma: They aren’t mind readers at the beginning. But those who care will get to know me enough to read the signs.
Emma: And that is the kind of connection that I feel is “dynamic”.
Emma: But I know that doesn’t happen right away.
Drake: Right. It’s a continuous growth, a process.
Emma: And it takes two people who aren’t looking for perfection, but rather, something better than what they’ve already got.
Emma was never short of depth and the more they got to know another, the more they realized how well they fit together. But neither of them chose to abandon what was already so good in their lives to pursue fantasies. And they both truly believed that fantasies best remained inside the realities that would allow them to be together.
A text alert sounded on Drake’s phone, Emma telling him she had just parked the car. He smiled. Oh yes. He felt the butterflies too.
Drake was a bartender, a good bit of the reason why their first face-to-face meeting had been so delayed in happening. He worked nights and she worked days. This had been a deterrent in relationships past, but Emma had taken it well – understanding that adding someone into your life was more successful when both people evolved towards the middle ground as opposed to trying to win an unnecessary tug-of-war.
Emma came through the door in a flash, a bit out of breath and noticeably worried. But despite her flustered condition, she was breath-taking. She wore a flowy skirt that made it down to her knees and a female-cut white button down shirt, the long sleeves rolled up to the middle of her forearms. Her fingernails and toenails had a new coating of soft pink polish and on her feet were brown leather sandals.
She wore her highlighted brunette hair down on her shoulders, a simple silver cross necklace around her neck. She was beautiful.
Drake stood up, his eyes locking in on her and she breathed slowly through her lips – walking towards him. He was taking in all her movements, her grace, her troubled poise and her wiles. She was the essence of everything she wanted to be and in the mix, the essence of everything he hoped she would be when he met her.
“Hi!” Emma said with a sweet voice, standing up on her tippy toes and wrapping her arms around his neck.
“Hello, Emma,” Drake whispered in her ear, embracing her and lifting her slightly up off the ground – an action that made her laugh.
“Oh my God. Diapers are so noisy!” Emma nervously whispered back to him, not knowing what else to say just then.
“Aww, you’ll get used to that BabyGirl,” Drake whispered with a deep voice, Emma going weak in the knees and tingling all over. “And Daddy is proud of you for having been a good girl in wearing them.”
She was trembling something fierce, but Drake calmed her anxieties with three little words … softly whispered with a cradling rock.
“Shh. Shh. Shhh,” he shushed her, reaching under the back of her skirt and patting her diapered bottom – an action that melted the rest of her. “Daddy’s here now. And everything will be fine.”
Oh, she smelled sweet. Oh my, did she smell sweet. He breathed in the scent of perfume, allowing it to fill his senses. It was one of those experiences that a guy looked forward to when a girl walked past him. He had the ability to glance at her and eye up her figure, studying the beauty of how she moved her body. That was always the first clincher. But the second clincher was always about what she smelled like.
He couldn’t put his finger on what the specific perfume was. But it had a bit of a caramel scent to it with something pleasant added into that. And then, of course, she had the scent of baby powder on her. She smelled as sweet as her personality was. Drake had to keep his footing firm until they sat down. Yes, her appeal had worked on him.
Then, he moved onto the visual cues – particularly with how she carried herself. It was adorable to see her take a moment to decide to fluff out the back of her flowy skirt before sitting, as opposed to the only other option of sitting right down on the back of her skirt.
She was tense but mushy – an attractive combination. Tucking her hair behind her ears and trying to find her composure once again, she had an adorable fidget to her. And she was beautiful, even more so than the selfie pictures she had sent him. Real life tended to be that way.
“BabyGirl,” Drake whispered, reaching across the booth table and taking hold of both of her hands. “You’re beautiful.”
Emma blushed and lowered her chin. Drake smiled and leaned his head down to keep eye contact with her southern-angled gaze.
“You are beautiful,” he repeated, gently gripping her fingers. “You can relax now, knowing that all the work you put into your appearance had its desired effect on me … and so much more.”
Emma lifted her chin. No guy had ever stated it to her like that before. It not only showed his physical interest in her, but also that he appreciated the time she took to get pretty for him. She wouldn’t go so far as to believe that he understood what that effort required. There was no way he possibly could understand that. He was a guy. And that in itself was what made his accolades so special for her.
“Hello, my name is Gina,” the waitress said, Drake and Emma startling out of their hand-locked gazes. “Are you guys ready to order or do you need more time?”
“No, I think we’re ready,” Emma said, much to Drake’s surprise. “Why don’t you order for both of us …… Daddy?”
Drake tried to hold back a smile, the waitress raising her eyebrows as she looked at her scratch pad – trying not to show reaction to what Emma had just said. And Emma herself … grinned from ear to ear.
It was a test. What would Drake do next?
“Well, I will have the T-bone steak and hash browns,” Drake said, then hesitating before ordering for Emma. “And she will have …”
He paused again for a few seconds, then ordered her meal quickly.
“She will have a grilled chicken sandwich. No tomato, double the lettuce, tartar sauce on the side, no pickle on the plate,” Drake said, then winking at Emma – her jaw dropping in disbelief. “And French fries.”
“I’ll go put your meals in,” the waitress said, collecting their menus and heading back to the kitchen with a big smile on her face.
Emma picked her lower jaw up off the table and then grinned brightly, her shoulders having shrunk up as a rare kind of happiness filled her senses – that of dynamic bliss and so much more.
“That was right, wasn’t it?” Drake asked, Emma nodding and glowing with giddiness. “That is your favorite diner food, right?”
Emma nodded again. Oh wow. He had actually paid attention, real attention. It was one lone discussion they had about food two weeks ago. In that particular phone call, she talked a mile a minute – opening up her heart to him and telling him all of her quirks and preferences.
For the past few weeks, they had gotten to know one another by talking about similarities and common interests. Then they would eventually get to the differences as they always did, but finding similarities was most important – as well as learning the new interests.
But on this day, their discussion led into clarifications – the next logical step in getting to know someone. It was a natural and effortless progression for them as conversation points never seemed to be scarce. There was a process they followed, opting to not skip over any of the steps in the getting to know you phase. It may have felt like slow-going, but it would make all the difference in the long run.
For the long haul … so to speak.
“So tell me about the willing-versus-forced thing again,” Emma said with a tone of curiosity that made clear she had been thinking about it. “Do you know what I’m asking?”
“The submissive beginning point?” Drake asked.
“Yeah,” Emma said with chipperness, glad that he figured out what she was talking about.
One of her least favorite things to deal with was that sense that she wasn’t understood – coupled with not being able to find the right words she wanted to say. On occasions, this frustration brought her to tears.
“Well, it’s really only a preference of mine,” Drake began, qualifying his opinion first. “It doesn’t make it right or wrong.”
“Drake,” Emma said, interrupting him. “We agreed that we wouldn’t second-guess how we feel about something by …”
“… by starting off with disclaimers. You’re right,” Drake said, finishing her thought. “Well, there are some people who enjoy the struggle of submission, of being forced to be obedient. Those mere words ruin it for me before I ever think about their meanings. And that’s the biggest difference, right there.”
“The biggest difference between what?” Emma asked, intrigued to know more about his penchant for the absence of willingness.
But this also worried her, too. And it worried her for the whole month they had been communicating with each other.
“The biggest difference between someone who enjoys simply being submissive already …,” he answered, Emma interrupting him.
“As opposed to someone who wants to be forced to be submissive,” Emma said, completing his thought – her worries never lesser.
“Exactly,” he replied, hoping she would see it in a similar light but preparing himself to accept whatever her partiality was – though it might mean a deal breaker.
“Hmm. Ok,” she said, pausing to think about it.
“I wish those people who enjoy the struggle all the happiness in the world, but I know myself. And I do not have it within me to be the counterpart that they seek. I guess I could lie about it or try to fake it,” Drake said, then stopping himself from saying too much about it as he had made his opinion clear. “I see a lot people like that, who wanna fight against what they actually want. And that’s part of the enjoyment for them. But sometimes I wanna ask them if they ever actually want to be submissive. Or is it just about the struggle, more than all else?”
“I guess some see it that way,” Emma said, then stopping to contemplate it some more as she stuck her tongue into her right cheek. “But I don’t think people need the fight in order to get out of it what they want. It’s probably just their preference, like you have yours.”
“And that’s great,” Drake said with honesty. “I’m happy for them.”
“But you’re not their match,” Emma stated, then holding her breath.
“I don’t have it within me,” Drake confessed, moving his silverware out of the way as he saw the waitress approaching with their food. “I could try it … forcing them to do things and if it made them happy, then I would get something from that.”
“But it sounds like you would never get anything from it,” Emma said with a grin as the waitress set the plates of food down on the table.
“Thank you,” he said to the waitress before she walked away – then sliding his plate out of the way, picking up her plate and setting it in front of him. “It would always be a one-way street.”
“And a one-way street would never work for counterpart traffic,” Emma replied, smiling as she watched him pick up a knife and cut her chicken sandwich into four pieces.
Then, he pushed the French fries up against the sandwich and picked up the ketchup bottle – putting an enormous amount of ketchup on the end of the plate where it would never touch her sandwich. Emma was smiling from ear to ear at how he was preparing her meal – giving it that final touch that suddenly made it like no other. Not only was it charming how he had gone into Daddy mode but it actually showed a light of hope that she thought had just been extinguished by his no forcing predilection.
And it was just then that she remembered something he had said on the phone a few days ago.
“We will only ever be half of something that is perfect for us,” she said softly, stating his quote as he placed the plate back in front of her.
“Huh?” Drake asked, not having heard her for how softly she spoke.
Quickly, she grabbed one of the quarters of her sandwich and took a bite, thus giving her the ability to stall her reply as she chewed.
Ooo, new possibilities had just emerged! And how healthy it made her feel to be able to communicate with someone so easily, knowing her opinion mattered to him but also knowing that compromises were paramount in growth.
Swallowing her food, she took one final moment to formulate how she was going to state the compromise she was about to suggest. Little did she know, before she began, that this one moment would change the game for them. And it was all gonna happen, somewhere in the middle.
“We’ve spoken about compromises, right? And how it is easier to engage in things when everything we do includes both people, right?” Emma asked, then nibbling her lower lip.
“Yeah,” Drake answered, tilting his head slightly to the side with intrigue as to where she was headed with those questions.
“Well …,” Emma began, then freezing to silence with worry.
“Emma,” Drake said, reaching across the table and taking hold of her hands again. “We also agreed we would push through every fear that arose, knowing that fear grows from what we don’t know. If we don’t talk about the things we fear, we will never gain the knowledge to overcome them. Small things are much easier to deal that big ones.”
“That’s just the thing, though,” Emma said softly. “This isn’t a small thing anymore.”
“Okay,” Drake said calmly, seeing the anxiety welling up inside her. “Then let’s deal with it right now. Big or small.”
Emma smiled through her trepidation. Unknowingly, Drake had just given the perfect answer.
“Use your words, baby,” Drake said with a grin, adding some much-needed humor to the serious moment.
“I don’t wanna be forced to be submissive,” Emma said, working through her heavy heart beats. “But I wanna be kept.”
“Kept?” Drake asked.
“Yeah,” Emma replied, continuing to push through the fear. “I don’t mean kept like … I am a gold digger or I wanna drain you in some other way, then to freely admit that I understand what I did later on – as if that would make up for it. I mean kept like … kept in a world where I am expected to be a BabyGirl and where you guard the boundaries. And when I’m not living up to the expectations of being a BabyGirl, then you gently set me back on track. And when I receive this gentle correction, I will never resist.”
“And when this correction takes place, you feel … kept?” Drake added, smiling and winking at her – Emma blushing but smiling back as a warm sense of affection washed over her entire frame.
“Yes,” Emma said with a very soft tone, nearly regressing completely right there in the middle of that diner.
“That I can do,” Drake said, Emma fidgeting as if her entire body began to tingle. “And that I would love to do … because you love it and because it is absent of struggle. That I have within me.”
Grabbing her glass, Emma chugged half of it – needing something to quench the dryness of her throat. Oh, how invigorating it was to have so easily side-stepped a mountainous obstacle in her mind … and all because she spoke of what she was feeling with the understanding that a two-way street had to be created for the traffic of life to not jam up.
And what they were both learning was that practically anything could be agreed upon, provided that they always kept the other person in mind. It was that delicate balance of give and receive that always produced a good result. She gave half of an idea and received back the other half. And suddenly the word take no longer applied.
“So … um …,” Emma said, pressing forward with the conversation as to get beyond the awkward moment of not knowing what to say next. “What do Daddies get out of it?”
Drake close his eyes and smiled warmly. Another important topic had just been broached. And this one had been a roadblock in the past.
“Oh my,” Drake said, as they returned to their meals. “That’s a question I’ve been asked several times. It seems to be a popular one.”
“It’s very popular,” Emma answered. “I mean … for the little, it’s so obvious what they get out of it. But for the Big, it’s a mystery.”
“Well, think about it this way: Every little has specific things that they want from the dynamic right?” Drake asked, Emma nodding confirmation. “What do they do to get what they want?”
“They …… say something,” Emma answered. “But Daddies don’t say what they want. That’s what makes it a mystery.”
“Daddies actually do say what they want. This just use lesser amounts of words to say it,” Drake said honestly. “And the problem may be that their answers aren’t workable answers. They don’t explain what to do.”
Emma looked at him with confusion.
“For instance, my answer would be: Being a Daddy gives me a sense of purpose. I have a need to be needed,” Drake explained.
“Okay, I see what you’re saying,” Emma stated. “So how do we figure out what Daddies get out of it if they don’t answer clearly?”
“The same way a Daddy learns what it means when his BabyGirl fidgets in her seat … or recognizing the signs that she is troubled by some upsetting thought … or what those deep sighs mean at random times … or what she is willing to eat when her favorite foods aren’t available options,” Drake answered, Emma piecing it together.
“By paying attention and remembering what they saw,” Emma said covering her face with her hands. “I feel so stupid.”
“You have no reason to feel stupid,” Drake said calmly. “It isn’t easy to make those observations when in little space.”
“But it’s possible,” Emma added.
“That’s true. And it becomes her choice,” Drake added further. “Everything is possible when you keep everyone involved in mind.”
“Which is even more possible for me because I don’t like to act little, but I love to feel little,” Emma stated.
“And to be kept little,” Drake said with a wink and a smile.
“And the best way to be kept, not forced, is to remember this really smart thing my Daddy once said to me,” Emma said with a giggle in her voice. “We will only ever be half of something that is perfect for us.”
Drake laughed aloud.
“The people we keep in our lives …,” Drake said.
“… are the ones who understand the necessity to find that common point in the middle,” Emma said, completing his thought.
“Well, I guess we’re all out of reasons as to why we simply won’t work as a couple,” Drake said with a grin.
“We’re a helpless situation, aren’t we?” Emma asked, playing it up.
“Pretty much, yeah,” Drake said, laughing again.
“Meet me halfway, Daddy,” Emma said, picking up her glass of water – Drake picking up his cup of coffee. “You will find me there.”
They clanked glass and cup together over the center of the table.
Sunday, 6:30 pm
Emma pulled up next to Drake’s car at the Alleyway Bowling Center – just a short drive from the diner. She could hardly believe that she had agreed to go bowling with him. The last time she bowled was when she was two. Her parents took her bowling with their church group. Ironically, she was diapered then as she was now.
Getting out of her car, she looked around the parking lot and from her body language, Drake suspected her heart was racing a mile a minute. The bowling alley was quite busy for a Sunday evening. And as they would soon find out, there was a reason for that.
A slight breeze rushed across the parking lot as they made their way to the entrance, Emma immediately throwing her hands behind her to hold down the back of her skirt. But Drake beat her to it. There was hesitation in her steps to go into the bowling alley but with Drake moving her forward from the backside, she found motivation … from being kept. And besides, with his hand on her diapered bottom, she wouldn’t have missed the experience-to-come for the world.
Everything was progressing forward with such swiftness that it made her head spin, but also with such a steady pace that she hardly had time to feel the whirlwind in her mind.
This was evident in her movements and in how she carried herself, those tell-tale physical signs that showed how she was feeling. And as they walked into the bowling alley, she was becoming accustomed to her waddled strides – trying to put a little more grace back into each step, but accepting the limitations she suddenly felt.
And all around her there were people, so many people. Without warning the comparisons began, Emma feeling very little – so much so that her shoulders shrunk way up. Her chin lowered and her hands clenched the bottom hem at the front of her skirt. She froze in place, presumably to keep the dizziness in her head from making her fall over. And with locked knees, she probably would not have moved forward at all. But two gentle-yet-strong hands helped her to re-evaluate – thinking otherwise, Drake wrapping his fingers around the tops of her biceps and easing her shrunken shoulders down before moving her over into the back of the line at the front desk.
Emma looked out at the lanes, seeing them to be packed with people. And there were so many couples there, lovers who were out-n-about and having fun together. She wondered what secrets those girls were keeping and what love felt like to them.
Placing his hands on the back of her neck, Drake trailed his fingers up into her hair – beginning to massage the back of her scalp. Her head leaned forward, her eyes closing. Oh, what a glorious feeling. He had found one of her greatest weaknesses on their very first date.
Their dynamic would certainly find an amazing depth. And it had only just begun. Oh, what summits they would climb up to … together.
The line moved forward, startling her out of her daze and making her jump – just startling enough to make her pee. Oh, it was just a little but enough to make her spin around and bury her face in his chest. Drake, ready to capitalize on the sweetness of the moment, placed his hand under the back of her skirt and cupped the underside of her diaper. With eyes great big-n-wide, Emma looked up at him with horror – to receive the nipple of the pacifier he had waiting in his right hand. Her eyes grew bigger and wider as she re-buried her face in his chest, Drake walking her backwards as the line had moved forward again.
She fidgeted slightly, presumably from sensations passing throughout her body – placed there by her overly-affected mind of the present moment. Now the test was being given to her.
By her own words, she had set herself up for this:
“… then you gently set me back on track. And when I receive this gentle correction, I will never resist.”
Emma wiggled all over the place, trying to be still but losing that endeavor. It was as if she couldn’t piece together the correct signals to send out from her mind. But Drake waited until she almost began to twitch all over before giving her that sense of being kept again.
“Princess,” Drake whispered in her ear, Emma clinging to the front of him. “Show everyone what a good girl you are for your Daddy.”
Thank goodness he still had his left hand on the underside of her diaper because his left hand was the only thing keeping her limpened legs on their feet and keeping her off the ground. Lifting her chin with his right hand, he took the pacifier out of her mouth and turned her around to face the front counter – as it was there turn to get shoes.
There were 52 lanes in that bowling center and they were put dead center at lane 26. All traffic passed by them repeatedly and there would never be a private moment for them. Drake quickly found a ball that fit his hand well. But Emma struggled to find any ball that was big enough for her hand yet still light enough for her to carry. They would eventually find her one at the far end. And then the long walk back to their lane in the middle began.
Wearing a short flowy skirt was going to get her looks from passers-by anyway. But with a sashay about her that didn’t seem natural, she got more looks than normal. And from the heaviness in her breath, it was clear to Drake that she felt every little bit of the white hot attention.
He sat her down and put the bowling shoes on her feet, then giving her time to take a few practice rolls to get used to the lane. But the diaper wasn’t cooperating with her and she waddled something fierce on her approach every time. On her fourth attempt, she fell down.
Drake walked up to her and knelt down.
“Do you have any idea how hard it is to walk straight in this thing, let alone bowl?” Emma said, laughing at what had happened.
“Well, watching you waddling down the lane, I have a pretty good idea?” Drake said jokingly, Emma raising an eyebrow at him and trying not to smile.
The first game was fun. Drake was a decent bowler and Emma just enjoyed rolling the ball down the lane. Her idea of striking was not getting two gutter balls in a row. And she was happy with that.
But finishing up the first game, she decided they would take a break before the second. And her method of making this happen showed how relaxed she had become in being there in a diaper as well as being kept.
As Drake readied the machine for the second game, Emma waddled and crinkled up to him. Kicking her left leg out, she straddled his lap and faced him. Plopping her diapered bottom down on his lap, she wrapped her legs around to his lower lumbar.
“We are not starting game two until two things happen,” Emma announced, a devilish look coming across the gaze in her eyes.
“Okay,” Drake said, reaching under the back of her skirt with both of his hands and cupping both cheeks of her diapered bottom. “What are the two things that need to happen before we start bowling again.”
Emma smiled brightly as her diapered bottom became warm with a flood of wetness. Drake sucked in his lips, holding back a smile.
“Will you marry me?” he asked with a laugh.
“Well,” Emma said playfully. “Let’s see how the second date turns out. I don’t wanna jump the gun.”
“Okay. That’s a smart idea,” Drake replied with a grin. “What else needs to happen before we bowl some more.”
“I wanna know about one of your past relationships,” Emma said with sudden seriousness.
“Why?” Drake asked, quite surprised she was inquiring.
“Because people tend to open up more fully when they speak of something meaningful and personally truthful,” Emma replied.
“To show how someone processes thoughts?” Drake asked.
“Yep,” she said with a grin. “So pick the relationship that affected you the most. And I will do the same.”
“That’s easy,” Drake said with a smirk. “I once had a long-distance relationship with someone who I had very little in common with, outside of the Daddy-n-BabyGirl thing. But somehow, we got along so well … for a while at least. She was an amazing individual who could juggle so many things all at once. I stood in awe of her.”
Emma listened, intently.
“But I began to notice that there were people in her life who constantly wanted something from her and they would tug on her arms whenever they could. And at the same time, there were other people in her life who needed different things from her and they constantly tugged on her legs. This was her life,” Drake said, remembering all of it very well. “She never had the opportunity to pursue anything in life that she wanted. She was always doing for others. She was a giver. But in her heart, there was a princess who had yet to find the fairy tale she had dreamed about.”
“She sounds like she was wonderful,” Emma said, then lifting Drake’s eyes for a change. “So what went wrong?”
“Everything,” Drake answered bluntly. “When presented with an opportunity, she squandered it – not even knowing she was doing it. There are simple truths we all must face and they are universally understood. If you don’t have money, you don’t spend money. You also don’t spend someone else’s money, just because you can. There is no need to be going to a salon to get your hair and nails done on a regular basis when the electricity in your house is about to be shut off. When you want something, you do what is necessary to acquire the means to get it before you dump the problem on someone else. That’s how bridges get burned.”
Emma studied the strain in Drake’s face as he continued.
“I have 50,000 reasons to have a problem with her,” Drake said calmly. “But only one that truly matters.”
“And which one is that?” Emma asked softly.
“I loved her more deeply than I will ever love anyone again,” Drake continued, Emma’s eyes welling with tears. “But it’s actually a good thing that I will never love someone that deeply again … because that depth of love is unhealthy for both people. I trusted her implicitly and she took advantage of it every time. I abandoned reason and logic and common sense because I loved her. And she just kept demanding more. It’s the more part that was the worst of it all.”
“Yeah,” Emma said, understanding the point he was making.
“I loved her with everything I had – emotionally, physically and financially. And though I gave all that I had, she made it abundantly clear to me that it wasn’t enough to meet her needs,” Drake confessed, Emma reacting to the pain statement. “That was the sting of stings, knowing that I could give no more and that all I had given wasn’t enough for her.”
Emma covered her mouth, getting control of her emotions.
“At the pivotal moment, when it mattered the most, she looked at me and saw someone who was too cautious for her tastes,” Drake said with a smile. “At that same time, I looked at her and saw someone who threw caution to the wind entirely too often for my comfort.”
Emma embraced him tightly, wrapping her arms around his neck – Drake returning the hug.
“I’m so sorry,” Emma whispered.
Don’t be. You didn’t do anything wrong,” Drake said bluntly, Emma sitting back and wiping her eyes. “My time with her taught me two very important things about myself.”
“What’s that?” Emma whispered softly.
“I learned that I am capable of doing so much more than I have ever given myself credit for,” Drake confessed, reaching up and wiping the tears from Emma’s cheeks – making her laugh. “I also learned that I am not right for every girl I meet. I do wish her well, but I have no need to ever communicate with her again. Those were lessons that came at well-deserved cost.”
“It sounds like it was money well spent,” Emma said cautiously.
“It was,” Drake said with a bright smile. “It really was. But it wasn’t about the money so much as it was about the betrayal of trust.”
“Well,” Emma said, trying to recover emotionally from a story she didn’t expect would touch her so much. “I had a Daddy once who was very bad at communication. And that proved to be a really bad thing.”
“It usually does,” Drake said, running his hands up and down her arms.
“But the truth was: I didn’t communicate with him very much either. And when I did, it usually came out all at once – like an explosion from me that I’m sure to him seemed to come out of left field. We never once sat down and talked about things. And for this, it seemed like we were doomed from the start,” Emma confessed. “I have to admit that I never loved him because I didn’t believe we were ever going to make it.”
Emma took hold of both of Drake’s hands as she related her experiences to the present.
“I guess that’s why I wanted to talk with you so much and get to know you before ever meeting you. I needed to be sure that I didn’t begin this relationship the same way I began that one,” Emma said, then smiling through her newest set of tears. “Love’s a tricky thing to get right, huh?”
“Yes it is,” Drake said with a smile.
“The whole … give-n-receive thing, right?” Emma asked. “When two people give, there is no take.”
“Yeah,” Drake replied. “ABDL, as well as any kind of relationship we welcome, should be something that enhance our lives, not something that makes life more difficult to live.”
“Right,” Emma said, sitting up with chipperness. “That’s a good way of putting it. I like the sound of that.”
Then the rock-n-bowl night began, the whole reason that bowling alley was packed. The room darkened and then lit up with strobe lighting all over. Music blared from the speakers and fog was pumped into the room.
Emma stood up and walked up to the ball return, picking up her ball and preparing to bowl the first frame. But as she did, she began to laugh hysterically at the sight of the bumpers Drake had programmed for her to use.
“Thank you, Daddy!” Emma struggled to say through laughter.
“And you’re sure you’re okay with me not wanting to act little – like not wanting to babbling, running around, watching cartoons, play with toys and all that?” Emma asked as they walked into the late-night slow-mart. “I enjoy feeling little, but I’ve never really enjoyed acting like it.”
“I’m fine with it. I would actually favor it that way,” Drake answered as they headed back to the bedding section. “I mean, all of those things are good … in moderation. The trouble with it sometimes is that it becomes an automatic thing for some people when they get that sense of littleness. And I adore it, but it unfortunately is another one of those one-way street things. It doesn’t include both people.”
“Right!” Emma said, not having seen it that way before but quite happy that they discussed it. “And it helps to keep people engaged if there is a place for all of them. Otherwise, it becomes one person’s overindulgence and their significant other’s drain.”
“I wouldn’t word it like that, per se. But something along those lines,” Drake answered her, following her lead into the bed sheets aisle.
“Okay. So, there’s something else I wanted to ask you yet,” Emma said, being coy about how important the forthcoming question was.
“What’s that?” Drake asked, not realizing the information she was about to reveal to him.
“This is one of those things that most girl want to ask a guy but never find the courage to do so,” Emma said, stopping in her tracks and turning to face him. “Is it sexual for you at all?”
“The dynamic?” Drake asked, Emma nodding yes. “You better believe it is. But she must be someone I am in love with before I would ever even consider it. And I don’t do the play partner only thing.”
“Good,” Emma said with a devilish gaze. “I’ve had fantasies about being held down and being told what a good girl I am and being made to beg Daddy for every … single … inch.”
Then Emma got out her phone and got online.
“Are you tellin’ me that you don’t ever wanna feel like a Big Girl when we’re in bed?” Drake asked, turning her around and wrapping his arms around her as he whispered.
“I don’t ever wanna feel like a Big Girl again,” Emma stated clearly as she handed him her phone. “And here’s why.”
Drake took her phone and saw that she had googled the term: Daddy Issues. To keep her mind busy as he read the entry, Emma started looking at all the different designs on the bed sheets, taking his hand and pulling him along with her as he read.
“Okay,” Drake said, looking up from the phone.
“No, no, no,” Emma said, redirecting his attention to her phone. “Read all the entries. It’s really important that you get to the last one, but only after you have read all the ones before it.”
“But I know what the definition of Daddy Issues is,” Drake said, not understanding why he needed to read definitions he already knew.
“That’s fine, but I don’t want you to think that I have issues with my real father or because of my real father or that that was what gave me Daddy Issues now,” Emma clarified. “Just read them all.”
So he started reading the entries.
Urban definitions –
- Whenever a female has a messed-up relationship with her father, or absence of a father figure during her childhood, it tends to spill into any adult relationship she embarks on, usually to the chagrin of any poor male in her life.
Drake frowned at the first entry. How horrible of a situation. He kept reading as Emma kept leading him around the bed sheets section.
- A girl wanting to be submissive and adored by an older guy or someone she views as being older than her in needed ways, who will put her above all others. The sex is kinky, and the dominance is irresistible for the male ego. She wants to be naughty but sweet for her “Daddy”.
Emma made her selection and led him towards the front registers, getting in line and occasionally glancing up at his face to see how he was reacting to what he was reading.
- Referring to a woman who is looking for a man like her father. She tends to seek male attention more than normal.
Drake raised both eyebrows at that particular entry, but it was the last one that told Emma’s tale. And as he read it, he understood why she wanted him to read all the way to the end.
- It has to do with Freudian psychology – where the girl subconsciously reenacts her relationship with her father, just in more adult ways when within romantic relationships.
Emma attempted to pay for the bed sheets. But Drake stopped her, paying for them himself. Then they made their way to their cars, parked right next to one another. Putting her bag in her car, she turned around and asked Drake one more question that night.
“So whadya think about my Daddy Issues?” she asked with a grin.
“I think we’re gonna have a very good time discovering their meanings,” Drake said, turning her around and gently pushing her back against the side of his car before plunking a pacifier in her mouth. “And we’re gonna start discovering those meanings … right now.”
With that, he reached under her skirt to her hips. Grabbing the lower tapes of her wet diaper, he yanked them free – Emma looking left-n-right as she nervously but excited nursed on her pacifier. Drake opened the back door on the driver’s side of his car and then took hold of the side of her skirt. Pulling it down, he ogled over how wet her diaper was – quite visibly in need of a change from the front.
She was grateful to be leaning back against the side of his car as her knees had gone weak again, a growing reaction to being kept by him.
Unbuttoning her button-down shirt, he slid it down off her shoulders – leaving her in nothing but her white baby-t and her diaper. She couldn’t believe he was doing all of this, right there in the parking lot. And though it was intense for her, she really didn’t want him stop. Picking her up, he placed his left forearm under her padded wet bottom as he eased her back into the car and down onto the back seat.
Unfastening the top tapes at her hips, he lowered the front of her diaper and directed her legs straight up. The soles of her feet went flat against the underside of the roof. Oh, what a vulnerable position.
As he opened the backpack on the back floor to get out a few things he would need, Emma lied there perfectly still. Her eyes were searching all over the place for some sort of distraction from the moment. For as much as she feared the circumstances, she craved how that fear made her feel. It was an addiction for her.
Drake took his time wiping her bottom, her front and then between her legs. It was the fact that he was in no particular hurry at all that only fueled her reactions of regression … and of submission. As he unfolded her new diaper, he watched her nursing on that pacifier – imagining how tingly she must have felt all over. It was a reaction she knew she needed. And it was Drake who gave it to her.
What did a Daddy get from it? Purpose and the need to be needed.
As he powdered her bottom, then working to the front and caressing the silkiness out, he saw how her body relaxed at his touch. Fastening her snuggly into that new diaper. He rolled up the wet diaper into a ball, sat her up on his lap and whispered a direction in her ear.
With a heart of pure submission, Emma did what he asked. Standing up out of the back seat and stepping back into her sandals, she turned around and looked for the nearest trash can in the parking lot. But the closest one was a good 20 spaces away, plenty of strides to turn her to mush on the inside. Holding the balled up diaper in both her hands, she slowly started to waddle her crinkliness towards that trash can – wearing nothing but her diaper, her white baby-t and her earrings. She moved very slowly, but not because of fear. Instead, her slow pace she kept so as to not rush past any single moment of how she was being made to feel.
Drake watched slowly walk over to the can, deposit the wet diaper in it and then slowly return. Her face was flushed with a deep shade of red and she seemed to glow as she got back to him.
“Good girl,” he whispered with syrupy sweetness as he embraced her, patting her diapered bottom and lavishing her with mind-numbing praise.
“Dadduh?” Emma mumbled softly behind her pacifier. “When are we going out again?”