The Creole Crawl 2
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here is a little story about broken records, birthday reminders and what must be done to make something inside one’s self grow.
Picking up the story of Winnie & Dominique where it left off at the end of
The Creole Crawl
Planting the Seeds –
Saturday, March 15th
“Winnie! Winnie! Winnie!”
Winnie could hear the packed crowd of Creole Crawl patrons chanting her name. And as she touched up her lipstick in the employee bathroom behind the bar, she smiled at herself in the mirror. It felt really good to be accepted, to feel popular and to have people waiting on her. Yes, in a way, she was about to perform for them and that was why they chanted so hard for her at the moment. But she had gotten very, very good at her job. She was no longer the new bargirl who dropped glasses, left and right. Now, she was Winnie, the bargirl who couldn’t be inundated by anything … or so she thought.
Just having gotten back from spring break that morning, she was still shaking off the jetlag and readjusting to the Big Easy. But after a few hours back with Dominique, her boss, her inspiration and the love that her little heart had sought for a lifetime, Winnie was ready to return to her post as Everyone’s DreamGirl Behind the Bar. In such a short amount of time, she had found a way to put it all together and to become the girl she had always wanted to be. And for a simple girl from Kansas who had lived in the middle of nowhere all her life, Winnie suddenly found herself in the middle of everywhere, in the middle of everything and at the center of a life that seemed tailor-made for her and seemed as if it had been waiting for her just as much as she had been waiting for it.
Checking all her attention-getters, as Dominique called them – her eyes, her hair, her lips, her breasts, her bottom and most importantly, her smile – Winnie opened the bathroom door and strolled her way back to her beckoned pots behind the bar.
When she re-appeared, the crowd roared with approval and applause as the favorite bargirl, dressed to kill, picked up a bar towel and flung it over her shoulder. She looked around the room, taking in her adoring fans, Mike the bouncer at the door, Trixie and Dixie the twin sister bargirls behind the bar, Dominique the bar owner across the room who had cracked a window and was smoking a Virginia Slim and Crystal the nearly 6 foot tall bargirl who had just been handed a microphone.
“Quiet Down!” Crystal shouted into the microphone, the speakers squealing from her shout as the crowd came to a hush. “Winnie here, thinks she is where it’s at.”
Winnie smiled and blushed, lowering her chin and then lifting it back up as she and Dominique made eye contact across the room from each other. The crowd cheered uproariously until Crystal raised her hand to silence them again.
“Well … we’re about to find out how good Winnie is behind the bar!” Crystal said into the microphone.
“Who cares? How good is she in bed?” a guy from the crowd shouted out, the room bursting into laughter.
Winnie sauntered over to Crystal’s side and leaned over to the microphone.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Winnie asked with as deep of a sexual tone as she could muster.
“Yes!” the guy shouted in answer.
“I’m sorry,” Winnie said into the microphone, her voice shifting upward into a cutesy feminine tone. “It’s not you that doesn’t work for me. It’s your penis.”
Dominique covered her face with her right hand, trying not to break out into laughter. But the crowd did, roaring with laughter as even the guy taunting applauded. Winnie was truly putting it all together and her admittance of feelings for girls was a major accomplishment. But though she held herself with pride and spoke all the right words, Winnie still hadn’t found a way to be comfortable with admitting to herself that she was a lesbian.
“Well,” Crystal said into the microphone as she, Trixie and Dixie set an assortment of glasses and shot glasses in a straight line on the bar top in front of Winnie. “Maybe we’ll get her to make a Ding-a-Ling!”
The crowd roared again as Crystal pointed to the clock above the bar. The theme of the night was Schoolgirl and every female was expected to dress in her shortest pleated skirt, her whitest knee-high stockings and to put her hair up in pigtails. It was the unofficial dress code for them that night. So, naturally, every college guy attending LSU was presently in attendance at the Creole Crawl.
“Alright!” Crystal said, still pointing to the clock. “The record for drinks made inside of one minute is nine. This record was set by Trixie last fall. Winnie, you need to make ten and you must make them correctly in order to beat the record. The glasses in front of you are all you will need.”
Crystal faced the crowd as Winnie rolled her shoulders and her neck, loosening up for the challenge. Then she looked over at Dominique, remembering how far she had come in such a short time – thanks to a business lady in the French Quarter who had given a chance.
“Shout out the 10 drinks she’ll be making!” Crystal said into the microphone.
Winnie had become the go-to, coming through for everyone in a pinch – especially on nights when they were so busy t the Creole Crawl that not even all four of the bargirls could keep up with the drink orders coming in. Her co-workers had grown to rely on her and she was no longer seen as the new girl – although she might have always received daggers from the twins. It just seemed to be part of their nature.
The names of drinks started coming in from all over the bar:
“Long Island Iced Tea!”
“Sex on the beach!”
“Flaming Dr. Pepper!”
“Well, we’ve got 12 drink orders, Winnie. Think you can handle it?” Crystal asked.
“Only 12?” Winnie asked facetiously, the crowd laughing as she set two more glasses up on the bar.
“60 seconds, 12 drinks. Looks like you’ve got a Minute to Gin it!” Crystal said as Winnie readied herself to begin. “On your mark … Get set … GO!”
Winnie turned around and walked to the liquor wall in front of the huge mirror behind the bar. She gathered as many different bottles of liquor as she could, placing them in a bundle on the bar top before picking up the bottles of triple sec and vodka between the fingers of her left hand. She then picked up the bottles of tequila and rum between the fingers of her right hand, hoisting all four bottles up and pouring them into the first glass.
“50 seconds left!” Crystal shouted, keeping her eyes on the rolling little hand of the clock above the bar.
The crowd roared and cheered, beginning to chant Winnie’s name again. She poured the vodka into the second, third, fourth, sixth, seventh and eleventh glasses – then pouring the triple sec in the sixth and tenth glasses, returning the vodka and triple sec to the liquor wall before grabbing the Kahlua, cranberry juice and pineapple juice from the cooler below. Barely holding on to all the bottles, she poured the Kahlua into the third glass, sliding it forward. Setting the Kahlua down, she poured the cranberry juice and pineapple juice into the second and fourth glasses, sliding the fourth glass forward.
“35 seconds left!” Crystal yelled, her eyes still locked on the little hand of the clock above.
The crowd began roaring louder, but Winnie stayed focused, pouring the cranberry juice in the sixth glass, the pineapple juice in the eight and tenth glasses, and the rum in the tenth glass before turning around and emptying her hands of the bottles. She put them back on the wall racks and back in the cooler, then picking up the orange juice, lemon juice and lime juice between the fingers of her left hand and Blue Curacao & cream coconut liqueurs between the fingers of her right hand.
“25 seconds!” Crystal shouted, the crowd going crazy as Winnie poured both of the liqueurs in the eighth glass before sliding it forward.
She poured the orange juice in the fifth and ninth glasses, setting the liqueurs down to shake the fifth glass and stir it as she poured the lemon juice in the seventh glass, adding a sugar cube to it and sliding it forward.
“20 seconds!” Crystal shouted as Winnie poured the lime juice in the tenth and eleventh glasses, the orange juice in the tenth glass, then setting all the bottles in her hands down before turning around and getting more bottles out of the cooler.
She grabbed grenadine and another kind of rum between the fingers of her left hand and sour mix and peach schnapps between the fingers in her right hand.
“15 seconds!” Crystal shouted as Winnie poured the grenadine into the fifth and tenth glasses, sliding the fifth glass forward as she poured the sour mix into the first glass and the rum into the tenth glass, sliding the tenth glass forward.
Grabbing the gin from the bar top, she poured it into the first glass as she poured the peach schnapps into the second glass, sliding the second glass forward while grabbing the soda gun and filling the first glass the rest of the way before putting a straw in it and stirring it – then pushing it forward.
“10 … 9 … 8 …” the crowd began counting down as Winnie jammed a lime wedge on the rim of the eleventh glass, sliding it forward as she put the twelfth glass under the beer tap to fill it.
She turned back to the liquor wall, grabbing the amaretto, Southern Comfort and Bacardi before turning back around and filling the shot glass on the end with the amaretto and Bacardi.
“7 … 6 … 5 …” the crowd continued counting as Winnie, turned the tap off and set the twelfth glass next to shot glass.
Setting the Bacardi down, she poured the amaretto and Southern Comfort into the ninth glass, sliding it forward.
“4 … 3 … 2 …” the crowd counted as Winnie picked up the shot glass, reached into her cleavage and pulled out a lighter.
She lit the alcohol in the shot glass on fire and dropped it into the twelfth glass – half-filled with Miller Lite, before she slid the twelfth glass forward, stepped back and folded her arms.
“1!” the crowd counted and then cheered as Winnie stood there with the broadest smile she had ever worn.
Crystal took hold of Winnie’s hand and walked around to the front of the bar, eyeing up each of the 12 glasses and picking up the first two.
“Long Island Iced Tea! It has triple sec, sour mix, vodka, tequila, rum, gin and a splash of Coke!” Crystal called out handing the drink to the closest girl dressed appropriately for the theme of the night before holding up the second glass. “Sex on the Beach! Peach schnapps, vodka, cranberry juice and pineapple juice!”
Another schoolgirl took that glass from her before she picked the third and fourth glasses.
“A White Russian! Kahlua and vodka,” Crystal said, handing the drink away before holding up the fourth glass. “A Bay Breeze! Three parts vodka, one part cranberry juice and one part pineapple juice.”
Crystal handed that drink off before picking up the fifth and sixth drinks.
“A Tequila Sunrise! Vodka mixed with orange juice and then laced with grenadine,” Crystal said, handing that drink away before holding the sixth glass. “Come on girls! Step up and get a drink. How do you expect these boys around here to get you into bed tonight if you’re sober and thinking clearly? This one is a Cosmopolitan for one of you Sex & the City fans! Absolut Vodka, Cointreau triple sec, lime juice and cranberry juice.”
She handed that drink away before picking up the seventh and eighth glasses.
“A Lemon Drop! It’s half vodka, half lemon juice and has a sugar cube,” Crystal said, winking to Winnie that she had made all the drinks correctly so far as she handed the Lemon Drop away and held up the eighth glass. “A Blue Hawaiian! Malibu Rum, Blue Curacao and pineapple juice.”
A schoolgirl-dressed female stepped up and took that drink as Crystal picked up the ninth and tenth glasses.
“An Alabama Slammer! Drink this one and wake up pregnant for sure! Amaretto, sloe gin, Southern Comfort and orange juice,” Crystal said, then thinking about it for a second and chugging the drink herself before holding up the tenth glass – the crowd roaring with applause. “A Mai Tai! Light rum, triple sec, orange juice, pineapple juice, dark rum, lime juice, and grenadine.”
A girl stepped up and took that drink as Crystal picked up the last two glasses.
“A Kamikaze! Vodka, triple sec, lime juice and a wedge of lime,” Crystal said, handing that drink away as she held up the last drink. “A Flaming Dr. Pepper! Three parts amaretto and one part Bacardi in a shot glass, set on fire and dropped into a half-full glass of Miller Lite. Drink this and when you get eaten out later! You’ll soak the bed sheets beneath you!”
Dominique suddenly appeared, taking the last glass and chugging it herself to the crowd’s roar of approval.
“It appears we have a new record!” Crystal shouted, the bar erupting with applause as they chanted Winnie’s name.
“And it appears my work isn’t done,” Winnie said with a glowing smile as she embraced Dominique and whispered into her ear.
“You are a hopeless, little flirt, aren’t you?” Dominique said with a returning smile. “Keep it up, kiddo. Mama might have to do some laundry in the morning.”
“Hey, kiddo,” Crystal said with a playful mock, handing Winnie an empty bar tray. “Can you go around and gather the empties?”
“Back to work … for now,” Winnie whispered to Dominique, then unbuttoning the top two buttons of her white dress shirt before walking around the bar to collect the empty glasses.
“You know, Dom, when Winnie walked into this bar a few weeks ago, I thought she would never make it through a single night,” Crystal said to Dominique as they watched Winnie work the tables – knowing full-well that she wouldn’t be tipped by anyone for collecting empty glasses, but also that planting the seeds while on her feet would bring the greens to her behind the bar.
Dominique smiled, walking back to her seat in the corner and lighting up another cigarette as she watched her little angel Winnie blossom to everyone. There was a sense of pride in Dominique that went beyond any usual rapport that employers and employees shared. It went beyond a maternal nature and concern that had come so easily to Dominique in the past few weeks. It was something completely different than all of that. With Mike, Crystal, Trixie and Dixie, it was business and friendship. The ageplay thing, the diapers, the coddling and all of the bells-n-whistles of a fetish-turned-lifestyle – all of that was simple garnishment for the bond Dominique shared with Winnie. And whereas Winnie clearly needed Dominique for guidance, strength and support, Dominique was realizing that she needed Winnie just the same, but for different reasons.
Looking out the window and up to as much of the stars that the nighttime glow of the French Quarter allowed to be visible, Dominique smiled. It was early springtime and she loved the spring. Business was good and everyone was slowly coming out of the winter mentality. The winter weather never got very chilly in the French Quarter, but attitudes sure did. And not only had spring begun to blossom again, but so had love and so many more things that couldn’t be spoken of … just felt.
And Winnie was beginning the most important journey of all, one of self-esteem and one of self-acceptance. Being a lesbian wasn’t a difficult thing to do at all. It simply posed different challenges than if she had met a boy and become the eye candy on his arm that her flirtatious little self certainly would’ve warranted. She would’ve become weak in the knees at the sound of his voice, gushing and bubbly when she spoke of him and lost for how to fend on her own as thoughts of being a happy little wife began to melt away her individuality.
It was the happy end for many, many, many girls in the world. But for Winnie, it would’ve been the beginning of a lifetime of wearing facades to hide the truth. And it was that thought of having to hide who she truly was that sickened Dominique the most. Loving another female wasn’t a death sentence and there was no stupider way to view than that. But it felt like it could become one – since she couldn’t be open about it. Folks in the French Quarter knew well that Dominique and Winnie were a couple, but Winnie didn’t want to hide it from anyone at all. However, her friends, family and so many others would raise an eyebrow at the thought of her not winding up as a housewife – standing in the kitchen, barefooted, pregnant and eating pickles. The cliché made her think of how she would have to deal with scorn or ridicule … or worse still – outright rejection. Winnie had growing confidence in herself – all due to Dominique, but all it would take was one little incident to make her shake like a leaf and perhaps lose the benefit of the seeds planted.
“Alright everybody,” Mike the bouncer called out as he walked to the center of a bar, setting a lone wooden chair in an open space. “We have a very special birthday today.”
Dominique snapped her head back from her reflection out the window, her eyes growing big-n-wide before she lowered her chin and tried not to draw any attention to herself. But Winnie wasn’t having any of that and she walked over to Dominique, placing her fingernails underneath her Mommy’s chin – lifting her eyes and pride as had been done to her so many times.
Reluctantly, Dominique took Winnie’s offered hand and followed her little girl’s lead over to the center of the room. But Mike didn’t have her sit on the chair. Instead, he had Dominique stand behind it, leaning over slightly and placing her hands on the top of the chair back. Encouraging everyone to gather around closely, he called for Trixie to bring the wooden paddle from behind the bar, the one had the words Shattered Dreams etched down its center.
“I guess you don’t want a raise any time soon,” Dominique said as Mike took the paddle and began warming his arm up to swing.
The crowd howled with laughter and Mike grinned from ear-to-ear as they all started chanting his name exactly as they had chanted Winnie’s name.
“5, 6, 7 ,8!” Mike shouted out as they crowd began to sing.
“Happy birthday to you,” the crowd began as Mike swung his arm down and struck the wooden paddle to the back of Dominique’s pants.
Dominique winced and smiled, knowing that the force Mike used had come from the gym membership she had bought for him as a Christmas present two years ago.
“Happy birthday to you,” the crowd continued singing as Mike landed two more strikes of the paddle to Dominique’s backside, in perfect rhythm with the song.
Dominique winced again, grunting a bit at the pain, but putting up with it as the patrons of The Creole Crawl were enjoying themselves – albeit at Dominique’s rear end’s expense.
“Happy birthday, dear Dominiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiique,” the crowd sang, holding out her name as Mike paddled her five or six times in a row.
Dominique bit her lower lip, closing her eyes and sinking her fingernails into the wood of the chair.
“Happy birthday to you!” the crowd finished with uproarious applause as Dominique stood up and laughed as she wiped a few tears away from her eyes.
“Happy birthday, boss lady,” Mike said with an enormous grin as he hugged her.
“I’m very glad I have you at the door,” Dominique said to him with laughter as she then addressed the crowd. “Thank you all for remembering my birthday in such a …. painful way!”
The patrons laughed.
“I think I’m going to go upstairs now and sit in a tub of ice!” Dominique said as the crowd laughed again and broke apart, going back to their tables as the music fired back up.
Dominique looked around the room and listened to how many people were singing along with the Bon Jovi song that was playing.
“What is it?” Mike asked, seeing his boss’s puzzled look.
“Mike, do you think they’d like it if we had a karaoke night every once in a while?”
“The only way to find out is to try it one night,” Mike said, then returning his attention to her condition. “Are you okay? I mean … I didn’t bruise you or anything, did I?”
“Oh, I’m fine,” Dominique laughed. “But I am gonna go upstairs and get a shower.”
Then she turned to Winnie who was smiling softly and batting her eyelashes innocently.
“I know you had something to do with that,” Dominique grinned, embracing her. “Don’t try to play all cute-n-sweet-n-innocent with me, young lady.”
“I have a secret to tell you,” Winnie whispered in Dominique’s ear.
“And what secret is that?” Dominique whispered back.
“Standing here and watching you get spanked …,” Winnie started, then stopping suddenly as she thought about what she was going to admit to.
“Yes?” Dominique asked, waiting to hear the rest.
“It got me wet,” Winnie admitted with a whisper so soft, it was almost inaudible for even Dominique to hear in the noisy room.
Dominique looked at Winnie, taking in the carefully made-up blushing face of her little girl.
“I have a secret to tell you, too,” Dominique whispered back. “It got me wet as well.”
Winnie’s eyes lit up as if she had just shared the most gossipy of information imaginable.
“Tell ya what,” Dominique said. “Let’s let that thought grow for now – like little seeds that were just planted.”
Dominique touched her finger to the tip of Winnie’s nose and then kissed her on the forehead.
“See you upstairs in a few hours, baby,” Dominique whispered, then walking over to the stairs and scaling them up to her apartment.
Winnie stood there, tingling from having been called baby and realizing that her knees were quite rubbery and it didn’t take a boy to make her weak after all. There truly was some sort of a seed planted in her, but it had been planted long before their shared whispers a few seconds ago. She watched Dominique taking her graceful steps up the stairs until she disappeared. Then, Winnie returned to her duties of cleaning the bar tables, wondering how she would be able to get through the next few hours of work – knowing that she had a promise to keep before night’s end … one that had been made with a Flaming Dr. Pepper.
There was something to be said for having everything you wanted in life and even a bit more to be said for being able to go out and get the things you wanted that you didn’t yet have. In the past few weeks, Winnie had spent a lot of time focusing in on not allowing herself to become awe-struck by her new-found ability to be happy. And while the thought may have seemed stupid to be worrying about, she feared that the moment she got too comfortable, it all would be taken away from her in a flash. But above and beyond everything else, Winnie’s greatest fear was the belief that no individual in this world should hog all the happiness. This was a belief her mother had instilled in her. And all her life, she had tried to spread the happiness around, making sure to lift others up who were feeling sad – even to the extent of winding up empty herself in the end.
But New Orleans, LSU, the French Quarter, the Creole Crawl bar and Dominique – these were all things that made her happy. And for once, she wasn’t going to give them away. But even as she began to help Mike the bouncer shut the bar down later that night, she was overwhelmed with the fear that a cliché just might be the deciding factor in how much planted seeds could grow:
If it’s too good to be true, it probably isn’t true at all.
With just ten minutes left before the front door was locked, Lady Gemini, the gypsy lady from the Quarter, walked through it.
“Hello, Winnie,” Lady Gemini said, walking up to the girl and watching her rinse the glasses out at the small sink behind the bar. “Do you remember me?”
Winnie looked up at the lady, trying hard to place a name and a memory to a face that looked so familiar.
“Should I know you?” Winnie asked, beginning to dry the glasses.
“Of course you should, Winnie,” Mike said, walking out from the hallway behind the bar as he began to shut things down. “And she would like an ice water with a lime in it. Hello, Lady Gemini.”
“Hello, Michael,” Lady Gemini said with a smile. “You always take such good care of me.”
And it was then that Winnie sparked the memory of that day when she and Dominique walked the French Quarter on their way to the Shoppes at Canal Place. That was the first trip they made when Winnie stopped playing the role of baby and suddenly began to live it.
“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Lady Gemini said, seeing Winnie’s face blush with embarrassment at the memory. “You won’t have that reaction much longer.”
“I won’t?” Winnie asked, getting a glass of ice water for her and putting a lime wedge in it.
“No,” Lady Gemini replied softly.
“How do you know?” Winnie asked, putting a napkin on the bar top and setting the glass on it.
“Because it’s written across your soul,” Lady Gemini answered, then picking up the glass and drinking from it.
“May I ask you a question?” Winnie asked, going back to drying the glasses under the bar.
“No,” Lady Gemini answered with a smile.
“Why can’t I ask you a question?” Winnie asked, a bit hurt by the rejection.
“You misunderstood me, sweetheart,” Lady Gemini replied. “The answer to the question you’re about to ask me is no.”
Winnie stopped her busy work and looked at Lady Gemini, deciding whether she wanted to believe her or not that she actually knew the question before it was asked. Lady Gemini took another drink of the ice water and then stood up.
“Please tell Dominique that I stopped in to wish her a happy birthday,” Lady Gemini said. “And, no, Winnie. You shouldn’t worry about what to do if you suddenly wake up back in Kansas. You’re not Dorothy. Mike’s not Toto. I’m not the wicked witch of the west.”
Winnie smiled softly, having wondered how long it would take until a Wizard of Oz reference was made.
“If you are so scared as to not take firm steps forward and to not give the present it’s due attention, then yes, you’re best option is to start clicking your heels together now,” Lady Gemini said, directly but sweetly. “Upstairs there is a woman who loves you dearly, in a manner that no one but the two of you could truly understand. There are only a few who justly need to know and when the time is right, you will tell them. You know who they are. Go up to her now, take the presents you bought for her that you’ve been hiding behind the bar the whole night … and don’t forget the promise you wish to keep. Believe me, she’s waiting for it and looking forward to it.”
“Go ahead, Winnie,” Mike said, locking the windows and lowering the blinds. “I’ll finish up closing.”
Winnie walked Lady Gemini to the front door.
“Do I make Dominique happy?” Winnie asked her, her eyes filled with uncertainty.
“Winnie, you don’t realize it yet, but there are tough decisions ahead for you,” Lady Gemini said, pausing to allow that statement to sink into Winnie’s thoughts. “I’m psychic, but I don’t cheat. And I don’t allow others to get information out of me that they really ought to know already. Do you make Dominique happy? That’s a question I don’t think you even need to ask her. You just need to believe the answer you already know. Good night, Winnie.”
Lady Gemini walked out the front door and Winnie looked up the staircase to Dominique’s apartment door at the top. With the bag of gifts in her hand, she began to take slow steps up the staircase to the door, thinking about all that had happened so quickly. And what did Lady Gemini mean by tough decisions ahead? Was something catastrophic going to happen? Was another hurricane on the way?
One question led to another and Winnie was certain she’d find no answers nor did she want to be plagued with trying to find answers when she opened that apartment door up ahead of her. Answers could wait. There was a woman in that apartment that needed to know how important she was, especially today … her birthday.
Winnie took her shoes off on her way up the stairs as she always did. And since she had moved out of on-campus housing to live with Dominique full-time, there were a lot of things that had become typical habits. Opening the door, she walked in quietly, seeing Dominique lying on the bed with her eyes closed. She was wearing her silk robe and nothing else. Dominique always seemed more comfortable sleeping naked. Frowning a little that her presents to Dominique would have to wait until morning, Winnie closed the door and locked it, walking over to the kitchen table and setting the presents bag down. Unbuttoning her white blouse and untying the knot of its shirt tails above her navel, she rolled her neck around, working out the cricks before she took her pigtails out. Reaching behind her and lowering the zipper at the back of her pleated skirt, she sighed, finally getting the opportunity to slouch in relaxation. She walked up to the kitchen sink and looked out at the midnight sky above the French Quarter, getting herself a glass of water from the faucet.
“You were adorable this evening,” Dominique said suddenly.
Winnie turned around to see Dominique lying on her side, having watched her undress.
“I thought you were sleeping,” Winnie said, softly and sweetly as a smile brightened her face and a twinkle danced in her irises.
“Nope, just restin’ my eyes,” Dominique said. “I think the schoolgirl theme was a hit.”
“I’d say so,” Winnie said, finishing her water and putting the glass in the dishwasher. “I sometimes wonder why we girls have to glam up and flaunt it to get the people to walk in.”
“We don’t have to do it like that,” Dominique replied, returning to a lay on her back. “But guys like our appearances. And when we give them a reason to, they don’t just walk into the bar. They come running in, bringing their friends with them … and their money.”
“I have to admit, I enjoy the attention,” Winnie said, walking over to the bed. “I’d actually kind of like to step it up a notch.”
“How so?” Dominique asked, intrigued by the thought.
“Well,” Winnie said, sitting along Dominique’s side. “I don’t really know how to say it … but Lady Gemini stopped in right as we were closing, and she wishes you a happy birthday, by the way. But it took me a few seconds to remember when I met her. It was that day you took me to the Canal Place mall. Do you remember?”
“Yes,” Dominique said, smiling warmly in reflection.
“I was so nervous because you were calling me baby and I was diapered and shy and all that,” Winnie said, her shoulders shrinking up at the memory of how that day made her feel. “But I was also excited a little bit and I can tell you how many times I thought about that feeling I got inside.”
“So how does this help you to step it up a notch?” Dominique asked, pressing the topic forward.
“I want to do that day again,” Winnie said, getting to the point. “But I want people to be with us and I want to feel like the most helpless little BabyGirl in the world.”
“I can make that happen,” Dominique said, running her fingertips down Winnie’s right thigh. “You are beyond adorable when you can’t find the means to escape something that makes you feel a certain way.”
“Exactly!” Winnie said with excitement that Dominique saw it the same. “I wish we could do something at the Creole Crawl that would make me feel that way.”
“Like what?” Dominique asked, intrigued as to what Winnie’s suggestion would be, but also buzzing with a few ideas of her own.
“Well, let’s take something that is a typical draw and add something new to twist it up a little bit,” Winnie proposed. “Like, for instance, what’s a common event you find in bars?”
“It’s so funny you should ask that,” Dominique said. “Just tonight, I got the idea to have a karaoke night every now and then.”
“Good! That’s perfect. So let’s have a karaoke night,” Winnie said, her eyes and smile beginning to reveal the devilish scheme in her mind. “But, instead of having just a karaoke night, let’s have a karaoke and lingerie night. And we, the bargirls will only wear lingerie.”
“I’m getting this idea that you want to wear less and less all the time,” Dominique said, grinning.
“Yep,” Winnie said, taking the blouse off her shoulders and then chicken-winging her arms to undo the back strap of her bra. “And the best week of the month to do this would be in the second week. Don’t ask me why I know that’s the best week.”
“I understand,” Dominique said, knowing that Winnie always took the trash out every night from the employee’s bathroom behind the bar. “So let’s try this in April. I’ll figure out the exact date and we’ll give it a whirl.”
“For me, any date after the 10th would be best,” Winnie stated emphatically.
“Me too,” Dominique said, sensing that they were beginning to match up with one another in more ways than could be described as matters of the heart.
“And I promise you, I’ll flaunt it for the boys on that night and keep the drink orders coming in. Speaking of promises to keep,” Winnie said, a lustful glow filling her irises as she crawled to the foot of the bed, parting the Dominique’s legs and squatting between her bowed thighs before leaning forward and kissing Dominique on the lips. “Happy birthday, Mommy. I have lots of presents for you, but the first one is a promise that will be kept.”
Kissing the side of Dominique’s neck, Winnie began to trail her pecks down Dominique’s frame, kissing the soft skin of her right shoulder and then her sternum and then her cleavage. Dominique closed her eyes, tightening her lips and letting out a steady, controlled breath as Winnie worked her kisses down to Dominique’s belly and then to her hood. Dominique then opened her mouth and gasped for air as Winnie knew where to place the intensity.
She began running her fingers through Winnie’s hair, smoothing out the kinks where her locks had been held in pigtails all night. Winnie parted her lips and gently stroked the tip of her tongue down Dominique’s clit, awakening all the right sensors of pleasure. And as she continued to the outer lips of her labia, Winnie maintained a gentle approach – very gentle … for now.
Dominique arched her back, heaving her chest out and turning her head to the side to softly moan her first bit of pleasure.
“That’s a good girl,” Dominique whispered with breathy timbre, her fingernails gently running up and down Winnie’s scalp as the girl’s head bobbed up-n-down with each circling of the labia. “Show Mama what you’ve learned.”
Winnie worked gentle circles with her tongue around the wet and swelling lips of Dominique’s labia, leaving no soft tissue unaffected and remembering the specific areas with each pass that made Dominique shudder.
“Oh, baby …,” Dominique whispered with heavy fuss, her lower back arching higher as she moaned a little louder. “That’s a good girl. Mommy is so very proud of you.”
Winnie began to focus in on the sensitive spots now, sliding her blouse underneath Dominique as she had already shuddered out a new layer of wetness and her swell was beginning to drive her toward that ever-nearing first ripple of pleasure to come pouring out of her. Dominique began to gently rock her hips as she took her hands off of Winnie’s hair and curled soft fists behind her own head. She didn’t want anything to arrive too quickly and neither did Winnie, understanding as well that the best orgasms were the ones that built slowly and calmly, only to erupt fiercely and intensely at the summitting end.
“Right there, baby. Right there,” Dominique whispered, reaching back down and holding Winnie’s head still as the girl concentrated on that little spot at the top of her labia where each little lick teased her clit as well with every pass.
Dominique’s body rocked with the nearing orgasm and then she froze up, whimpering a moan as that first ripple of pleasure rushed out of her core – washing over her entire frame and making her skin tingle with its strength. Then the second wave arrived on the heels of the first, traveling the same path and continuing to stimulate her whole body. She shuddered and tightened, her voice at first moaning gutturally. But within a few glorious moments, she lost the ability to make any sounds at all. Closing her eyes, she shook and did her best to hold out as long as she could. But after a few more glorious moments, she felt herself gush – yanking up on Winnie’s head and pulling her to the side, just in time before she squirted all over the shirt beneath her.
Winnie curled up alongside Dominique, waiting for her to sigh – the audible indication that the balloon downward had begun. Then she reached back down between Dominique’s legs, gently teasing her clit to heighten the afterglow. Dominique reached down between Winnie’s legs, feeling the drenched front of her little girl’s panties. Winnie hadn’t found any zenith herself and presently she didn’t want to. This night, this moment and this heartbeat was all about making Dominique feel good, about spreading that happiness to others. And after lying in each other’s arms for quite a while, sleep began to beckon.
“You really ought to get a shower before bed,” Dominique whispered, stroking Winnie’s hair.
“I know but I don’t wanna move,” Winnie admitted, laughing softly.
“That’s no excuse,” Dominique said, sitting up. “Off ya go. Into the shower.”
“Wait. I need to give you something first,” Winnie said, standing up reluctantly and walking over to the kitchen to grab the bag with Dominique’s birthday gift in it before returning to the bed.
“And what is this?” Dominique asked, taking the bag from Winnie and reaching inside it to pull out a package, wrapped in white gift paper.
“You’ll see,” Winnie said excitedly, sitting next to her. “Open it.”
Dominique tore the paper off the package to find a scrapbook.
“I’m gonna fill the pages with everything we do and with everything we’re gonna do,” Winnie said, opening the cover. “The first few pages are already filled. So take a look at it as I go get in the shower. I wanna hear what you think then.”
Winnie got up and scooped up the drenched blouse from the mattress before sprinting her pantied bottom off to the bathroom.
“Make sure to put your underwear in the hamper this time!” Dominique called to her, then turning her attention to the scrapbook.
“I know,” Winnie called back, sassing like a teenager at the restriction.
It was so easy to get lazy, though – especially when everything around her and every interaction with Dominique made Winnie feel like a little girl. Luckily, Dominique lived by a simple three-point philosophy about being a Mommy – Love ‘Em, Limit ‘Em & Let ‘Em Be.
The first page of the scrapbook had photocopies of the newspaper clippings about The Creole Crawl the day it opened years ago. Dominique re-read the article, blushing at some of the comments she had made. She was so new to the game back then and it was refreshing to read how far she had come.
Winnie hopped in the shower, getting straight to work and doing her best to be as quick about getting clean as she could. She really wanted to be back in the bedroom before Dominique got to the last filled page. There was something on it that Winnie wanted to see Dominique’s reaction to. And it was this desire to be there that fueled Winnie’s ability to take a five-minute shower, albeit a lackluster bit of hair washing.
She hopped out of the shower, toweling herself dry as quickly as she could and wrapping her hair in a second towel before running back out to Dominique. And, becoming a seasoned pro at caregiving, Dominique had set up the bed to prepare for Winnie for sleep. Dominique stood up and moved the scrapbook to the pillow, continuing to look at it as she snapped her fingers and pointed for Winnie to lie down on her back on the bed.
Winnie saw the nightie, the diaper, the powder, the stuffed animal and the blanket, sitting in a neat pile and awaiting her. Her shoulders shrunk up and her tummy began to flutter as she regressed, lying on her back and drawing her knees up right away. Dominique opened the towel off Winnie’s front and picked up the crinkly diaper, one of those super-thick ones she ordered online. Dominique’s attention was still focused on the scrapbook as she flipped the next page over and kept reading, but she multitasked beautifully as she slid the diaper underneath Winnie’s bottom and took the powder across her BabyGirl’s cheeks. Winnie swooned in the sensations, the gentleness, the scent and the headspace – continuing to regress but trying to resist fully slipping into littleland as she wanted to see Dominique’s reaction of that which was only a few pages away.
Dominique powdered Winnie’s front just as gently, adding a bit of extra-gentleness to the touch of Winnie’s smoothness between her legs. Oh my, did Dominique know how to touch her in such a manner as to make her submit without a bit of resistance possible. She folded up the front of the diaper and fastened the tapes snuggly at Winnie’s hips, then sitting the girl up and giving her a moment to adjust her leg crossings to accommodate the thickness of material between her legs.
Flipping to the next page, Dominique picked up the nightie and gathered the material in her hands. Winnie raised her hands to the sky and waited with almost breathless anticipation as the last filled page was next. Dominique slipped the nightie down onto Winnie, reading the sweet words that her little girl had written before taking the towel off her head. She picked up a hairbrush, putting the scrapbook in front of Winnie and climbing up onto the bed behind her to brush her damp hair out. Oh my, the impulse to flip the page over for Dominique was there but Winnie fought the urge. Her heart pounded as she awaited Dominique’s reaction. But Dominique was taking her time reading the scrapbook, feathering out Winnie’s wet hair and carefully running the hairbrush through the girl’s hair tips – working out the occasional rat found before taking long brushes from the scalp down.
Then Dominique flipped to the next page and froze in shock at what she saw. Underneath the plastic sheet covering was a single ticket to see the Yankees spring training game against the Rays on March 29th in Tampa. Dominique stopped brushing Winnie’s hair as she kept staring at the ticket. She hadn’t seen Derek in years, not since he loaned her the money to start The Creole Crawl. Oh my, the quietness was killing Winnie. Was Dominique happy? Winnie was too nervous to turn around and look back at Dominique to see her reaction. Was she crying? Was she angry? Was she indifferent? Anything, any sort of reaction would’ve been better than the silence. And oh my, thank God Winnie was in that diaper – because her nervousness made her use it.
“Thank you, Winnie. I don’t really know what to say,” Dominique confessed, Winnie understanding completely but actually knowing what she was going to say.
“You’re welcome and you don’t need to say anything,” Winnie said, a bright smile forming on her face as the reaction she had gotten from Dominique was one of speechlessness and that made Winnie feel very good.
“Where did you get the money to buy that ticket?” Dominique asked, raising an eyebrow as she finished up brushing Winnie’s hair.
“From my tips,” Winnie said, then beginning to jabber before Dominique asked anything else. “And I’m sorry I didn’t have enough money to get you a hotel room, but I looked on kayak.com and got some prices of rooms that weren’t expensive but had real good reviews from people who had stayed there. And I looked up the cab companies in Tampa and most of them are willing to drive anyone from a hotel to the stadium. And I’m gonna looked up plane flights and put your plane ticket on my credit card and that should pretty much be all that …”
Plunk! Winnie felt the rubber nipple of her pacifier as Dominique put it in her mouth. Winnie became silent, smiling at how excited and babbly she had just become.
“You won’t need to do any of that,” Dominique said, brushing out Winnie’s hair to smoothness. “Because you’re going to be coming along with me.”
Winnie’s eyes grew big-n-wide with excitement, but she managed to fight off the fidget.
“I will get the plane tickets,” Dominique said, leaning back on the pillows at the headboard and easing Winnie’s lay back into her cradle. “And I will pay for the cab rides.”
Dominique reached over to the nightstand and picked up the prepared baby bottle of milk, then slipping her pinky finger in the handle of her BabyGirl’s pacifier before pulling it from her lips and replacing the void with the warm rubber nipple of the baby bottle. Winnie settled into her lay, relaxing her frame and pressing up against Dominique’s chest as she began to swallow the warm milk.
“I will buy the peanuts and cracker jacks and soda pop and ice cream,” Dominique said with softness to her voice and a smile on her face, making Winnie smile with a gurgle of warm milk. “And I’ll call Derek. He’ll get the hotel room for us.”
It was only at that moment when Winnie truly processed the thought that she was going to meet Derek, Dominique’s boyfriend from high school who had gone on to be quite an impressive baseball player – from what Winnie had been told.
Oh my, the thought was intense and the experience would be the same. Planting seeds and sharing the happiness was the easy part. But sometimes, when that seed grew, it produced results that were unexpected. Winnie would surely be a BabyGirl when she met Derek, and while that thought scared her to death, she also couldn’t wait for it to happen.
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