Leaving an Impression

(Start at the beginning)

Noel’s Christmas – Monday, December 6th

“Leaving an Impression”

“Okay,” Nick started, taking hold of both of Noel’s shoulders and making her face him.  “I need you to be completely honest with me right now, Noel.”

“I will be very honest with you, Daddy,” she answered with a softened tone.  “I promise.”

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked with a very serious look on his face.

“Yes, Daddy,” Noel replied, fidgeting a little but still answering him straightaway.  “I’ve given it some serious thought and I’m sure I want to do this.”

“And you understand the risks?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Yes, Daddy,” she answered with fussy breath.  “I know it’s risky, but I feel it’s time that we do this.”

“And you’re not scared?” he asked, confused as to how easily she was answering him.

“No, Daddy,” she answered with a small voice.  “I’m not scared.  I know you will be right there with me and I know you will hold my hand.”

“Do you need your diaper changed?” he asked, trying to distract her.

“Not yet,” she answered softly.  “And you put lots of baby powder on me.  So, I know I won’t get a rash if I start to sweat.”

“Are you gonna be a good girl?” he asked with lustfulness.

“Yes, Daddy,” she said with breathy whisper, growing fussy in her tone.  “I need to do this …. really bad.”

Continue Reading …

Those Good Feelings

(Start at the beginning)

Noel’s Christmas – Sunday, December 5th

“Those Good Feelings”

The snowfall finally stopped in the middle of last night, but not before it dropped several more inches.  Noel breathed a sigh of relief the moment she woke up, knowing that cabin fever would be avoided.

She wasn’t someone who really wanted to take every available moment and go and do something.  It wasn’t even something she needed to do … until the option was no longer there.  And for this reason, she couldn’t wait to get out of the house that morning.  However, it was important to her that her Daddy had a big breakfast.

So she got to work on it, even making up a pot of coffee to add to the smells of cooking sausage and bacon that would drift back the hallway and wake him up before long.  Moving the mound of snow gear that was occupying the kitchen table over on top of the mound of diapered stuffies on the living room rug, she set the table – finishing the last detail right at the moment when he wondered out from the bedroom … still a bit groggy, yawning and rubbing his eyes.

Grabbing another one of her Christmas bibs, she walked over to him and wrapped herself around his body – burying her face in his chest so she could deeply breathe in his Daddy scent.  Her reactions to the sight of him were unique, to say the least – if not just flat out strange at times.  When she woke up, she knew she would need her diaper changed before too long, but now she would definitely need changed … right after breakfast.

Continue Reading …

The Best of It

(Start at the beginning)

Noel’s Christmas – Saturday, December 4th

“The Best of It”

Noel stood behind the kitchen door, making certain to stay well behind it to shield herself from the cold air rushing in from the outside.  Burping, she covered her mouth – an unintentional gesture reminding her of what she had just had for lunch.  It was early afternoon and the kitchen door was partially open because Nick had just stepped outside to measure the snow that had already fallen since last night.

The weather forecast had called for six to eight inches of snows.  Yet now, more than 18 hours after the first arrival of snow last evening, the flakes were still coming down – slowly and lightly but still constantly.  They had to have exceeded eight inches by that point.

Shivering a little, she bounced up-n-down – her naked feet feeling the chill of the air as it rushed in under the door and made her nearly naked body break out into goosebumps all over.  Her bottom was nice and warm, tucked inside her diaper.  But that was it.  Being naked and wintertime were not good bed fellows sometimes.  Finally, Nick came back inside, declaring that they were at 9 inches of snow and still piling up.

They were snowed in, until this all ended.  No plows had come by to dig out the roads yet.  Not even a truck had driven by.  Nothing looked like it would happen until the snowfall stopped.  But when was that going to be?

Continue Reading …

First Arrival

(Start at the beginning)

Noel’s Christmas – Friday, December 3rd

“First Arrival”

Nick and Noel set the table for dinner, vegetable beef soup being the perfect comfort food for the cold weather.  Yes, Nick kept the house warm as he didn’t like the chill either, but the warm soup was gonna hit the spot.  And along with the cheddar cheese biscuits, Noel’s tummy was about to be put in Heaven.

Nick had spent the day working from home, the lone positive that had come from this never-ending global virus problem.  Their Christmas tree arrived at 9am and Noel spent the whole morning decorating it.  It was indeed the right size for the living room and it fit with exactness in the corner.  She was so happy about it and she used every single ornament to give it the “bling” it was due.  Nick took a few breaks throughout the day and this gave them several opportunities to decorate the outside of the house with Christmas lights.  He put them all over the house as she strung the bushes and trees.  Needless to say, it had been a busy and productive day.

Putting the biscuits on the table, Noel took a seat – straightening out the Christmas bib he had put on her.  It was one of 12 he bought her and she intended to use all 12 before Christmas Day.  Plus, aside from the clothing she wore outside temporarily to string up the lights, that bib was the only other thing she had worn that day – aside from her diaper …… and this was another important reason for him to keep the heat cranked up indoors.

Nick screwed the cap on her sippy cup and put it next to her bowl, then taking a seat.

Continue Reading …

Just the Right One

(Start at the beginning)

Noel’s Christmas – Thursday, December 2nd

“Just the Right One”

Noel set the pen down on the coffee table, leaning back and stuffing the final card in its envelope.  She was done.  After hours of working at it, she was finally done.  Every one of her relatives and every one of Nick’s relatives and every one of their friends now had a hand-written Christmas card.  For as much as she loved doing every Christmas task that could be, it was also tiring – her right hand having cramped up from all the writing.  But it was done.  And now they just had to mail them all.

Getting up off her knees, she sat on the living room couch and eased back – then sitting up quickly and grabbing her phone.  Seeing what time it was, she got up and sprinted her crinkly waddle back to the bedroom – remembering that her Daddy asked her to be ready to go out when he got home from work.  And he was due home any minute now. 

Tomorrow, he would be working from home, but today he was at the office.  And when he got home, they were going to go get a Christmas tree.   This was something they were going to do last week but Thanksgiving and family stuff and everything else just took up all their time.

Getting to the master bedroom, she flung the closet doors open and began to make her decision of what to wear.  There were so many options, this wasn’t going to be easy for her to decide so quickly.  And she would need to dress completely, from head to toe – as she was wearing nothing but her diaper. 

Continue Reading …

Something to Wear

Noel’s Christmas – Wednesday, December 1st

“Something to Wear”

Lacy’s was packed, the department store at occupant capacity – indicative of the time of year.  T’is the season, as was often said.  And for Noel, it was indeed the most wonderful time of the year.  There was no better time when she was more in the spirit of things.  In her opinion, Christmas was the only holiday that mattered.

Stepping to the side of the aisle as to not block shopping traffic that went by, Noel checked her phone – an alert having chimed it notice.

Noel was an early 30-something who lost her husband to a car accident three years ago.  When he passed away, she went into a shell of depression for a long time but eventually decided to live again.  Her life was going to go on, whether she wanted it to or not.  And as she found out, she did want to live and to live fully.  Opening her heart to every bit of what she had inside as if she had nothing to lose by doing so, she pursued something that had only ever been a fantasy in her mind.  She hadn’t even revealed this to her late husband, for fear of rejection.  And what she learned was that she was a BabyGirl-at-heart, a little ageplay sweetheart who felt it but didn’t know what to do with it.  And it had been a journey, thus far.

Looking up from her phone, she scanned the nearby area to find Nick, her beloved.  Spying him looking at some scarves, she walked over to him – keeping her steps small and her stance narrow to reduce her crinkling … a little trick she had learned in the past few months.

“Look,” she said with a small, sweet voice – showing Nick the alert that had shown up on her phone.  “Six to eight inches of snow are heading our way … arriving in two days.”

“Friday evening,” Nick said, seeing that the snowstorm was traveling down to them from Canada.  “Yeah, we’re in for at least six to eight inches.”

Continue Reading …

… and she owns your heart.


Perhaps it’s the butterflies in her tummy that fluttered their waltz
Turning her senses to mush as her littleness exalts

 Perhaps it’s the sight of her escaping the afterbath towel that endears
And running ‘round the house, absolutely naked, no lack of modesty she fears.

Perhaps it’s her tushy, covered sweetly with a diaper and the crinkling waddle which ensues.
Perhaps it’s her tender embrace and the way she said thank you to you.

 Perhaps it’s her pigtails that toss about as she bounces and bounces, to and fro
or that sweet twinkle in her little girl eyes, which says I love you, you know.

Perhaps she dreams oh so Big, of being little, in each thought
Or the pacifier, held with dainty lips which she nurses for comfort sought

But however she acts, she’ll embrace her part
She’s your BabyGirl forever and she owns your heart

25 “Dream Makers”
The Pictures Stories

More Thanksgiving “Did-You-Knows”

Check here for more Thanksgiving Fun Facts first, then come back here for more.

Did you know …

the first Thanksgiving took place in 1621?

While there are accounts of Thanksgiving celebrations pre-dating 1621, that was the year most historians recognize as the first American Thanksgiving celebration.

Thanksgiving dinner hasn’t changed much over the years?

The food eaten at the first Thanksgiving feast in 1621 was not too different from our modern standard. The pilgrims’ meal consisted of turkey, venison, waterfowl, lobster, fish, clams, pumpkin, squash, berries, and fruit. Aside from the seafood, most of these foods are still staples of our present-day Thanksgiving dinners.

it wasn’t until 1941 that congress made Thanksgiving an official national holiday?

Abraham Lincoln declared it a national holiday during his presidency but it never received congressional backing until 1947.

the wishbone tradition is much older than thanksgiving?

Turkeys’ wishbones are commonly used in a good-luck tradition on Thanksgiving. Usually, the practice consists of two people tugging on either end of the brittle bone while silently making a wish until it breaks. It is said that whoever wins the larger piece will have their wish granted.

This tradition dates back to the Etruscan civilization circa 322 B.C. The Romans brought the tradition with them when they conquered England, and the English colonists then proceeded to carry the tradition to America.

Turkeys are (kind of) named after the country?

This is a really interesting one: No, the big turkey does not really hail from the country Turkey. During the reign of the Ottoman Empire, a bird called the guinea fowl — which bears a striking resemblance to the American turkey — was imported to Europe from its native North Africa. Because the birds came from Turkish lands, Europeans called them the turkey-cock and turkey-hen. When settlers in the Americas began sending similar-looking birds back to Europe, the name had already stuck!

that Jingle Bells was originally a Thanksgiving song?

This is another neat one: “Jingle Bells,” the classic Christmas song written by James Lord Pierpont in 1857, wasn’t meant to be about Christmas. Originally titled “One Horse Open Sleigh,” the ditty was meant to be sung on Thanksgiving. When it was reprinted in 1859, however, the name was changed to “Jingle Bells, or the One Horse Open Sleigh,” and was prescribed for Christmas.

Benjamin Franklin wished the turkey was the national bird?

Being a part of the world of theater, I knew this one:  In a letter to his daughter, Benjamin Franklin wrote, “For my own part, I wish the Bald Eagle had not been chosen the Representative of our Country … For the Truth the Turkey is in Comparison a much more respectable Bird.” And although Franklin didn’t have his wish granted, his letter inspired a song performed in 1776, the Tony-winning musical about the drafting of the Declaration of Independence.

And the name of that song was: “The Egg”.

there was a Thanksgiving meal served in England in 1942 that was later viewed as ironic?

During WWII, in 1942 London’s legendary Westminster Abbey, a Thanksgiving meal was served to U.S troops who were stationed there because of the war.  Though a much-appreciated deed, it was also strangely ironic because the holiday was founded by pilgrims who had come to America – fleeing religious persecution in England.


Blessings to You and Yours,
Zorro Daddy

Male Attention

What was it about male attention that she craved so much?  What was it about male attention that drew her towards it with the force of a magnet to metal?  Why was it that she just couldn’t get enough of it?

Maybe she had daddy issues, something still lingering within her from years upon years ago.  But she had always had a wonderful relationship with her father.  He had never been absent from her life.  And he still spoiled her when she went to see him. 

So … no.  She had no daddy issues.

Maybe it was the whole “I’m insecure and I need validation” thing.  But she had never been overly insecure and the insecurities she did have she had found ways to deal with and to conquer on her own … with admittedly varying degrees of success.

Maybe it was a common reason why she craved male attention all the time.  Something stemming from jealousy, low self-esteem or loneliness.  But she had no reason to be jealous.  If someone had something she wanted, she went out and found it for herself as well … case in point:  she was with a Daddy now.  Her self-esteem was fine, and loneliness was something to correct went felt.  It didn’t give her a complex.

But still it felt so good to be in his arms, pressing herself into his body and breathing his scent in deeply.  Wearing nothing but the diaper he had put her in gave her that wonderful feel of vulnerability.  She felt like she was on some sort of drug that had altered her mind to only seek more and more attentiveness from him.

And she was never without the ability to get as much attention from him as she wanted.

  • If she whimpered, he would instinctively find what made her whimper and fix it.
  • If she began to pout, he would do things to make her smile again and even laugh uncontrollably.
  • If she wet herself, he would have her on her back, changing her diaper and making her feel like a baby – all over again.

But, standing there, in nothing but her diaper, and embracing her Daddy with the biggest little girl hug she could muster, she knew she would never be able to answer why she loved male attention so much.

All she knew was that it felt so good to be the target of all of his attention.  There were many things in this world that could catch his eye.  But all that mattered to him was his BabyGirl.

She was an addict … of male attention from him, of being put in a diaper and of being kept as his one and only.

Perhaps, just perhaps, there really wasn’t an answer as to why she loved it all to the point of frigid obsession.

And for something that felt this good, no answer would ever be needed anyway.  All she needed … was more male attention.

Into Each Day … Like a Daddy Only Could


It was after the bath he gave her that morning which softened her skin to match the softness of her heart.

It was after she felt the smoothness of her legs, an action which showed a lot of care on his part which was uncommon.

It was after the gentlest of the diaperings she had ever received from him, wrapping her senses with sweetness as he had done to her to waist.

It was after he brushed her hair until it lay perfectly flat and made for the cutest of pigtails, held up by a pair of light blue ties which matched the tiny top and slipper boots he dressed her in.

It was then that she realized he loved her like a Daddy only could.  It wasn’t the outfit that told her this.  It was the manner in which he ushered her into each day.

25 “Dream Makers”
The Pictures Stories

“The Fuss (Part One of Five): Realization”

Being a BabyGirl wasn’t always easy.

For as simple as it made a lot of the decisions she never liked to make and for as much as it satisfied the cravings of her fantasies of submission and of a kinkiness no one understood but her Daddy, she had moments when being a BabyGirl made her feel too little to handle.

The problem wasn’t the feelings so much as it was her reaction to them.

She had picked up a glass and threw it to the ground, shattering into pieces. Her Daddy made her kneel in the corner of the kitchen as he cleaned the glass up.

She knew what was to come and it confused her that her arousal, now evident in the swelling of her peach, was mixed with the fear of what her Daddy kept repeating to her as he cleaned up the glass shards:

“This is one spanking you’re never gonna forget, Baby.”

Continue on to Part Two


25 “Nothing Buts”
The Pictures Stories

The Tell-Tale Droop

 Poor Baby.  She tried her hardest to be a Big Girl for the day.  She fussed so much when her Daddy insisted she still wear a diaper.

And with six blocks to go, the tell tale droop showed that Daddy was right.


25 “Out-n-Abouts”
The Pictures Stories

Macy’s Confession – Part Three of Three

(Begin with Part One)

Part Three –

“My Baby You” began to play, a softer and more romantic tune that grew with intensity along the way. 

This was very similar to the situation in the back seat of Miles’ convertible mustang, Macy having climbed on top of him – straddling his lap with bent knees and facing him as she grabbed the sides of his face with her hands.  In response, he grabbed her diapered bottom and squeezed – the first hint of the aggression he was keeping bridled … for the time being, at least.  Macy kissed him deeply, with an open mouth.  Aiming to continue to fuel his aggressions, she displayed a bit of her own – getting aggressive with her tongue.  It was offered as a challenge to him. 

Was he going to allow her to dominate the kiss or was he going to take charge of her?

Not making it easy on him, she kept her forcefulness constant – making him work to battle back.  And all it took was a few seconds before he responded.  Gripping her diapered bottom more tightly with his right hand, he slid his left hand up the back of her neck, his fingers going into a fist and grabbing the hair at the back of her head before he sat up and pushed back on her tongue.  Forcing it back into her mouth and following it in with his tongue, he leveled the playing field of dominance.  Macy instinctively backed down with no further resistance.

These were the challenges of life she was very happy to lose.  And if she lost, having to concede, it actually meant she won – bringing his aggressiveness up to his surface … an aggressiveness he would now use on her.

And she was right, he would indeed use his aggression on her … just not how she thought he would.

Continue Reading …

Macy’s Confession – Part Two of Three

(Begin with Part One)

Part Two –

Miles held her right hand as he opened the front door, walking out onto the front porch and leading her out as well.  And as she passed through the front door onto that porch, her shoulders shrunk up as her chin lowered and her posture slumped a little.  Her heart was beating very fast and as she took small steps down off the porch, her entire body was trembling.  She was terrified, but at the same time, she was excited.  And every one of her senses were alert, sending a flood of messages to her little mind – overwhelming her.

The smell of the nighttime air was cool and crisp.  But it wasn’t cold outside.  And she could certainly smell the baby powder he had coated her center with.  Somewhere nearby, someone was burning wood, the faint trace of its smell in the air as he led her over to his car.

Her eyes tossed left and right, her chin remaining lowered as she tried not to move her head.  Who was nearby?  Who could see her?  And as she kept a lookout for others, she noticed the waddle of her steps and how her feet remained a bit further apart than they usually did.  Oh yes, he had put her in a thick diaper.

Her ears could hear the distinct noises of a crinkling thunderstorm, growing louder and louder with each waddled stride she took.  It was a deafening sound, louder than the crickets all around.  She could hear sounds off in the distance, traffic on the highway – a few streets away.  She heard the dogs in the backyard of the house across the street.  But no matter what the actual distance was for each noise, it all sounded like it was right next to her.

And speaking of traffic … particularly flash traffic … being a creature of touch, her sense of that same thing was certainly at high alarm – sending a stream of messages to her brain from every nerve ending in her body.  The cool night air was a welcomed sensation on her forehead as she felt like she was burning up from the inside.  The satin on her skin left the trace feel of a smoothened touch.  And the confusing remains of arousal … well, that was all it took to jumble any lingering feelings of being settled.

All of this was new.  She had no idea what to expect.  And not knowing excited her a little.  Perhaps even a little more than just a little.

Miles took his time getting the front passenger’s seat ready, only adding a bit more anxiety to Macy’s fragile state of mind.  She stood there by the side of his car – chin lowered, eyes glancing all around, nursing on her pacifier and tingling all over.  It felt like he was deliberately taking his time in getting things ready for her to sit.  And there was a level of truth to that.  His car was a convertible Mustang, his other baby – as she called it.  It was cherry red, the color of car that got pulled over more than any other – adding just a little bit more worry about what this mysterious trip would entail.  She could feel her heart pounding so heavily that blood started racing all throughout her body, making her a bit dizzy.

Ooooo!  What was taking him so long?

Continue Reading …

Macy’s Confession – Part One of Three

Part One –

Macy lathered her hair, stepping under the hot stream of water in the shower and exhaling.  No, she wasn’t exhausted from the day at all.  Quite to the contrary, she was feeling an energy she normally didn’t at 9:30 on a Wednesday night.  The middle of the week wasn’t supposed to be this invigorating.  But there was a reason for that.

This wasn’t just any old Wednesday night.  It was the 3-month anniversary of a relationship with someone she was falling in love with at an alarmingly quick rate.  His name was Miles.  And they both had taken tomorrow off from work to celebrate their 3-month anniversary since she wasn’t able to get today off.  So, tomorrow would be a celebration of 3 months and one day.  And, in a sense, it was even more meaningful to them that way.  Macy and Miles were always looking down the road, to the future.  They were too new to each other to realize that nothing should ever come at the expense of the moment. 

But they were learning.  Every day, they were learning.

Rinsing her hair out, she remained under the stream of hot water for a moment, smiling and shrinking up her shoulders with shyness as she thought about their once-a-month confessions.

At the mark of every month, both of them made a personal confession about themselves.  But it couldn’t be a trivial confession.  It had to be something they wouldn’t just tell anyone.  So these confessions weren’t anything like: “I like socks” or “I must have a half, double, decaffeinated, half-caf, mocha, locha latte coffee by 9am every morning or I just simply can’t function.”

And these confessions enabled them to have time to get to know each other, while also moving them forward – as the personal nature of these confessions not only opened them up to each other that much more but were also signs of trust. 

When bearing one’s best kept secrets, nothing matter more than trust. 

Macy turned the water off and reached outside the curtain to the toilet seat, picking up the towel she always pre-set there so she could dry off in the warmth of the shower.  Wrapping the towel around her hair like a turban, she opened the shower curtain – her eyes growing big-n-wide as she saw her make-up bag sitting on the bathroom sink.

Stepping out of the tub, she ran to the sink, seeing the little note on her make-up bag that read: Time for “Dress-Up”

Continue Reading …

Getting What She Wanted


She sat patiently,  remembering what she had told her Daddy she wanted for the weekend: “I just wanna be your BabyGirl and I don’t wanna stop.”

And he promised her she would be.

Now as she sat in the car seat – nursing on her pacifier, crinkling in her diaper and wearing a very baby-ish get up.  What could possibly have been any more intense than what she was about to experience? 

He had often spoken of the day they would go Out-n-About as a Daddy and BabyGirl.  And now she tingled with thoughts of what that meant and what it was going to feel like.

But she got what she wanted.  She had been a BabyGirl all weekend, non-stop.  Daddy had made good on his promise and he certainly would keep her feeling like a BabyGirl when he discovered she had wet her diaper.

And she knew exactly where he was going to change her.

25 “Dream Makers”
The Pictures Stories

The Littlest of All


She waddled up to Daddy 
while lowering her chin 
He gazed his Daddy-gaze at her 
with the warmth of a knowing grin


He knew she was feeling little 
And her shifting, not to mention 
made the tummyflies in her middle 
a sign she needed special attention

So he eased her down on the carpet 
Untaping her diaper gently 
And her tummyflies danced a waltz inside 
From her littleness, consequently

But her Daddy made her feel safe 
And with a gentleness to his care 
He bent her knees and curled up her legs 
Lifting her bottom in the air

He folded the front of her diaper down 
And in his world, she felt small. 
But when Daddy changed her diaper 
she felt the littlest of all.

25 “Charm Sakers”
The Pictures Stories

Saying Good Night

(Start with Part One – “Getting Her Ready for Bed”)

Luke patted her diapered bottom, encouraging her to waddle into the living room.  Taking baby steps forward, she had never before felt such a wonderful mixture of overwhelm, embarrassment and tingles.

Part Two

Laney looked over to the couch, seeing the smiling faces of Jenny and Erica, her two besties.  The girls were very inviting of her to come over to them, separating where they sat and giving her a space between them.  This was a bit of acceptance that made Laney’s heart jump for joy.

Yes, she had told her girlfriends about the BabyGirl thing, but they had never seen it for themselves, until now.

Continue Reading …

Getting Her Ready for Bed

Laney smiled brightly, her head leaned back and her eyes closed as she kept the bathwater at her neckline – basking in the warmth.  The bathing was over, but the bath wasn’t … not until she neared danger of turning into a prune.

Her life was hectic and fast-paced.  Her baths did not need to be the same.

Luke was her boyfriend of several years, both of them a bit reluctant to tie the knot without knowing for sure, this time.  You see, they both had been in marriages that failed.  And neither had the desire to become a part of that statistic that said the majority of second marriages also failed.  So they were pacing themselves, just as slowly and deliberately as her nighttime baths were paced … thorough and with no intent of rushing it … or of throwing out the baby with the bathwater.

Luke bathed her by hand every night.  And his hands worked wonders on stiff muscles, especially those in her neck.  But beyond that, he knew how to touch her.  He knew what she liked, and he knew what she hated.  And he knew everything in between.  This knowledge came from a lot of trial and error.  So, her nightly bathings got better and better and better.  Sure, he was a guy and this meant that, if he was going to bathe her by hand, then her breasts would be extremely clean.  But what he could do to her legs and her arms and her back was a mighty Heavenly feeling.

He was responsive to her need to be touched and more, even thinking ahead on certain things … like tying her hair up and out of the way as she never washed her hair at night.  He gave her as much attention as would be given to a baby.

And there was reason for this.

Continue Reading …

Silly BabyGirl. Fairy Tales are for Movies.

She never thought the day would come that she would be able to enjoy her little side fully.

She figured there would always be something that would get in the way of her happiness and ruin the dream she dreamed.

But it was the dream itself which made clear that she was never really looking for Prince Charming.  In order to do that, she would have to be Cinderella.  And she wasn’t Cinderella anymore than he was the Royalty.

What they were was a Daddy and a BabyGirl who fell in love and made their lives what they wanted them to be … Happy and Happy Together.

And on this Saturday morning, as she hung the laundry out to dry, she looked down at the wedding ring on her finger and thought:

“Silly BabyGirl, Fairy Tales are for Movies.  I like this Real Life thing so much better.”

25 “Charm Sakers”
The Pictures Stories

Patting a Diapered Bottom

It almost seems like it should happen automatically.  Right after the diaper goes on, a pat from the hand to her freshly diapered bottom.  It’s a simple motion, easily repeatable in practically any location.  But for as simple as it is, the meaning behind patting a diapered bottom has multiple definitions and multiple reasons.

Primarily, it could be stated that patting a diapered bottom is a non-verbal way to show approval as praise for having done something she was supposed to do.

But that’s a very textbook explanation and there are ways to convey what it means with a bit more humanity.

Let’s see …

When she has been a good girl and has behaved herself, she will be patted on the bottom.
It can be a part of every hug she receives or just a quick gesture to let her know she is loved and someone is proud of her.

When she needs a bit of encouragement to get something done, she will be patted on the bottom.
It’s a gentle way to push her forward and get her to overcome her hesitancies.

But there’s also the reason to simply reminder her that she is a BabyGirl … your BabyGirl. 
And the diaper will always be there to remind her of this.

Patting a diapered bottom is also a way to calm a BabyGirl who is upset or feeling insecure or who just needs a little extra attention at that moment.
For this reason, it becomes something she needs, as opposed to just something she receives occasionally.

It serves as the perfect coupler to the forehead kiss when putting her to bed for the night. 
Laying her on her tummy, pecking her temple and then patting the seat of her diaper become the last interactions she has with her Daddy before she enters into dreamland.

There are even not-so-innocent reasons:

The diaper pat is also playful, the perfect action of foreplay before the foreplay begins.
Especially while you whisper things in her ear that only she is to hear.

The swift strike to a diapered bottom (aka The Hard Pat)
The bottom is a striking zone that has erotic appeal.  The rush of endorphins as well as the rush of blood to the pelvic region and all those physical scientific explanations lead the way in laying proof to the sexual merits of a spanking.  For someone like myself, who just simply can’t fathom striking a female (for sexual reasons or otherwise), I could never spank her.  But if she is in a diaper, then a spanking is possible as it removes the element of pain but maintains the sentiment.  It becomes a warning to her that there is disapproval for what she is doing or not doing, saying or not saying.

But the mechanics of a good diaper pat can vary as well.

There is the placement of the pat squarely across the center of both cheeks.  This one has a lot to do with the position she is in.

There is the underside cupping of the diaper during a pat.  This one is more readily used as the average male is taller than the average female. And cupping upward is natural from a higher position.  It also is perfect if she is kneeling in some way.

It becomes an obsession for her.  And for a daddy, it can become an obsession to0.

Then there’s the sound, which can have just as much of an effect of her as the action itself.

And I would mostly certainly be remiss if I ended this posting without mentioning how the diaper pat is a way to check her diaper for wetness or more.  So, it has practical use while combining it with any chosen scenario listed above or perhaps from a scenario I didn’t list above.

And that is when the sound of the diaper pat takes on multiple meanings.

– When a diaper is fresh and new, it will have a flat sound, the inner materials not having been shifted or affected by movement or length of wear.
– When it has been worn for a bit, the sound becomes flatter still.
– When it has been used, particularly when it’s wet, the sound will have a greater thud to it.

Though these sounds may not be all that different, to a trained ear, the subtle differences are noticed.

Then there are varying degrees of these sounds based on the thickness of the diaper.

You see how nothing at all about ABDL is straightforward and easy to define? LOL

I suppose that’s a good thing, though.  Because if we were all the same, if we were all clones, storm troopers if you will … what fun would that be?

See the Joy

Dear Daddy,

I know sometimes I can be a fuss.  And I know sometimes small problems seem big to me in my little world.

But I don’t ever want you to think that I don’t love you with all the affection a BabyGirl’s heart can hold.

It is because of you that my world is changing, that my smiles and my happiness come from my soul, that my tummy welcomes the butterfly waltz when you make me feel little.

And when you look in my eyes I hope you see the joy I feel.

Love forever,
Your BabyGirl

25 “Charm Sakers”
The Pictures Stories

Thank You for the Butterflies

 Oh how wonderful she felt.  She had been bathed, diapered, played with, held, fed, tickled and babied all day long.

From peek-a-boo games to raspberries on the belly to zerbitts on the forehead to silly crayon drawings to nap times to an intense ride in a car seat to a pigtailed-n-pacified-n-cradled bit of story time on her Daddy’s lap as he bottle fed her – beginning her journey towards the dreams her night held in store.

She was a pile of mush inside and couldn’t have been happier.  The butterflies tickled inside her tummy and the feeling of littleness curled her up into a tight little ball as she lay on the living room rug.  She was adorable, having fallen asleep in that position.

Soon her Daddy would carry her to bed.  And tomorrow would arrive sooner than she could hope for.  Because within each day, she had the opportunity to feel love she had always wanted and to say “Thank You for the Butterflies”.

25 “Charm Sakers”
The Pictures Stories

The Laundromat – Part Two of Two

(Start with Part One)

Part Two

Kylie stared straight ahead, her knees having locked and her hands still planted palm-down on the top of the washing machine.  The initial release gave her that sense of relief that was felt right at the beginning.  The flood gates had opened, and the first gush made her close her eyes as she basked in the feeling of no longer having to clench any muscles to hold it in anymore.

That first gush was a big one and she could feel the release of her pee beginning to weigh down her diaper.  The tapes at her hips tightened as they held, the underside of her diaper beginning to sag.  Though she feared an overflow, she was still so happy to now be beyond desperation that the fear hadn’t overcome the sense of relief yet.

If she soon didn’t stop, however, her fear would meet truth.  The sagging of the underside of her diaper continued as she got those temporary relief sweats, her brain going fuzzy and mixing how she felt with where she was to jumble her receptors just a bit more.

Thankfully, she finished without overflowing.  Well, in reality, she released enough to no longer be urgent in feel.  But that was all she would need, for the time being …… or so she thought.

Continue Reading …

The Laundromat – Part One of Two

(Guess the Differences answers at the bottom)

Part One

Kylie signaled left to turn onto Front Street, waiting for the green light to head to the laundromat at such an early hour of 7am on a Saturday morning.  It seemed like a good idea to do her laundry so early on that day.  But now she was second-guessing herself, a bit of angst getting the best of her.  And as she turned left, thoughts began to enter her mind that started encouraging her to turn around and go back home:

  • It would be so easy to go back home and save the gas. But if she did that, she would miss this golden opportunity to do laundry in what would most assuredly be an empty laundromat.  She wouldn’t get another Saturday morning off for at least a month.  And the laundry she had with her was most assuredly dirty. 
  • Why couldn’t she just hand wash the laundry at home this time? She could hang it all over her apartment and it would be dry in a few hours.  If she was so nervous about the laundry, staying at home and taking care of it there seemed like a smarter way to handle it.  And besides, turning her apartment into an indoor clothesline was no big deal.  It wasn’t like she was going to be expecting company later that day.
  • How dirty was her laundry, really? Was this necessary to go to a laundromat on the other side of town this morning?  Couldn’t she wear this clothing one more time before she absolutely had to wash it?

But no matter what excuse her mind thought up, she kept driving to the laundromat anyway.

At the next stop light, Kylie reached underneath and picked out the diaper wedgie she had given herself because she had put on a pair of shorts that were just a bit too tight.  She loved dressing in a manner that showed off her figure, like a lot of girls did.  But wearing form-fitting shorts probably wasn’t the best idea she had ever come up with, given her diaper.  She was just so eager to get to the laundromat she grabbed the first pair of shorts she found that morning, put them on and headed out.  It hardly seemed like a big deal, at the time.  Going to the laundromat so early meant no one would be there.  And if no one was going to be there, then the shorts being tight really didn’t matter.  So, she gave it no further thought.

But she forgot about the potential of recurring diaper wedgies – a true #babygirlproblems issue.

Continue Reading …

Guess the Differences

Can you find all ten?
Continue on to the answers.

At Dawnlight

(Start with Part One)

John opened his eyes, looking up at the ceiling and seeing traces of the forthcoming light of day, masked by the closed curtains.  Laying up on his side was Jane, who had faithfully kept that pacifier in her mouth all night.  Using his right shoulder as her pillow, her legs were wrapped around his right thigh.  And she clung to his right side.  He was her pillow.  She was his blanket.  And it worked so beautifully as she was a tummy sleeper and he was a back sleeper.

He looked over at his clock on the nightstand.  6:45 am was the time.  And in a few minutes, the sun would rise high enough in the sky to pour fully in through the side windows of the bedroom.  It was a magnificent sight to behold when it happened, for a very specific reason.  But before it could happen, he needed to open the bedroom curtains.  And in order to do that, he had to find a way to move her without awakening her.

Continue Reading …

In the Middle of the Night

John awoke suddenly, as if a bit of internal clockwork had just sounded off an alarm inside him.  Looking over at the clock on his nightstand, he sat up and blinked his eyes a few times.  Then he stood to his feet.  It was 2:57 am … in the middle of the night.  It was time.

He walked over to the bedroom door, wide open as he had left it when he went to bed.  The upstairs hallway was so quiet he could hear the faint noise of crickets outside.  Taking slow steps, he walked across the hall into the nursery – the nursery door having been closed but not the whole way.

Walking into the nursery, he squinted his eyes just a little – still trying to find a focus to his vision … something he would certainly need in just a moment.  He heard steady, rhythmic breathing in the room – the sounds of peaceful slumber being had.

The nursery was illuminated by a blue canary nightlight, giving the glow of sapphire blue to everything in the room.  It was only partially furnished but what was there had already found a home it belonged in.  The glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling, having run through their charge by this hour, formed the constellation of the Heavens above.  Straight ahead was the wooden changing table he had built for her by hand, carving moons and stars into its sides to compliment the astrological theme she had chosen for the nursery.

Continue Reading …

View At The Top

https://zorrodaddy.files.wordpress.com/2011/11/25b.jpgShe was so proud of herself, having worked her way up the ranks of the cheerleading squad.  She had put in her time at the bottom of too many pyramids to not reach the top.

Tonight was her night.  She’d climb up that pyramid, throw her arms out to the largest crowd the university had ever had and do a split in the air on her way down.

But it was two minutes before they built the pyramid that she realized she forgot her bloomers.  This wouldn’t normally have been the end of the world, just a little embarrassing for her. 

But she was a BabyGirl who had recently started to embrace her littleness more and more.  And tonight, she decided she would be a diapered cheerleader for the first time. 

Perhaps, it was best that she did this as she stood there, trying to figure out a solution, when she began to wet herself.  But her worries soon left her when she realized that who she was inside was something she should never have to hide from anyone.  And she was certain it would be a marvelous view at the top.

25 “Charm Sakers”
The Pictures Stories

The Selfless BabyGirl

Selfless (self·less – adjective /ˈselfləs/)
1. concerned more with the needs and wishes of others than with one’s own; unselfish.

“Selfless” is often seen as a pipedream … as no one could possibly think of others all the time.  But it’s not a label of absolutes.  It’s a declaration of intentions and of actualities.

The Selfless BabyGirl loves what she has and dreams of what may come.  She lives in the moment, absorbing all she can like a sponge while allowing you to see what is ahead at the next block.

But she never does anything without your benefit in mind.  She realizes that she has a wonderful life as a single person and she loves who she is.  But her dream, of what may come, is no longer a dream to her – but rather, a reality.  She is no longer a BabyGirl.  She is now your BabyGirl.  And she doesn’t take this for granted.

Your possession of her enables her to defeat crippling thoughts that keep trickling into her mind.  Thoughts like:

You weren’t supposed to show up yet.  I was supposed to have this all worked out before you arrived.

Being selfless has no timetable.  And like so many things in life that happen when we’re not expecting them to, a selfless soul can embrace possibilities – seeing clearly the ones that are probabilities.  And this sight is made clearer still because she loves what is already there more than what might be there in the future.  She doesn’t see him as a stepping stone along the way to where she wants to be.

She is more interested in seeing how she could fit into his life and seeing how he could fit into her life – than seeing how she could change everything to make it suit.

And the selfless approach is not only highly addictive, but it is also highly contagious – encouraging everyone involved to aim to please others.  It’s a healthy way to start anything, to persist and to remain.

This leads to the concept of “give and receive”.  Not give and take.  When two people give and give of themselves selflessly, then “receive” is the only appropriate word to follow.

And when you see that she is so very much about you, you will so very much be about her.  It’s a natural reaction to kindness.  And it screams “Be-All End-All”, “Quintessential”, “Selfless” and possible “Soulmate” all at once.

She will cling to you.  You will cling back.  Then you will sprawl out and she will do the same.

She will abide in that which already exists, seeing it as something she wants not something she wants to change.  You will pamper her, seeing her as the other half of you – that dot of the I … that cross of the T … that ache for purpose now fulfilled.

She will want.  She will need.  She will desire.  She will fuss.
You will hunger.  You will yearn.  You will lust.  You will spoil.

You will tend to every inch of her body.  You will bathe her with such gentleness as you would use when handling fragile China glass.  You will diaper her and dress her and hold her.  Your world will grow very small, forming laser-precise focus on her to accommodate her instinctive longing for white-hot attention.

And how easy it will be to give to someone who isn’t trying take from you.  She is a selfless BabyGirl, her heart and nature encouraging you to give all that you’ve got.

But she’ll fuss and you will be waiting for it.  She will make a mess of herself and you will tend to her.  And it will be your hands that soothe the creature of tender touch inside her.  Insentiently, you will run your hands up and down her almost completely naked body.

And she will react to your touch, shifting and arching and heaving her frame to follow the glides of your fingertips.  She is enjoying the moment and what is being done to her.  She isn’t wishing it away for something other.  Every action leads to another actions, creating a journey – leading somewhere that both of you not only crave but covet with unremitting impulse.

The Daddy BabyGirl dynamic will be lively and entertaining.  It will be quiet and peaceful.  It will be so natural and ever-present that you won’t even know you’re doing any of it.  It will become as natural and as relied upon as breathing.

But you will also get aggressive, and she will become submissive in matters more sexually aligned.  The arousal will make for fervent passion, dismissing the tummyflies temporarily and replacing them with a writhing urge to continue to bond.  All the breathy whispers, the restraint of being pinned down, the slickening and the swell, the stiffening and the thrust will arch spines, connect pelvic bones and send you both to the stratosphere.

And all the while, she was a Selfless BabyGirl.  This means that you have to be a Selfless Daddy too, all the time – the same as her to equal the devotion.

When two people give, there is no take.  There is only give and receive.

I cannot say this enough.

It begins with two people individually and evolves into one.

And selflessness will lead the way.

The Dynamic Writings