Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 33811 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 169(@200wpm)___ 135(@250wpm)___ 113(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33811 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 169(@200wpm)___ 135(@250wpm)___ 113(@300wpm)
My breath hitches, and I lift my head to look down. A squeeze of my thighs confirms my diaper is very full. I can’t believe I wet myself. It makes me panic. I groan.
“Hey, there.” Daddy rubs my tummy. “Don’t you worry about your diaper. I’ll change it in a jiffy, and it will be all better.”
I look at him. “Why didn’t I wake up?”
He smiles. “Sweet girl, it’s common for Littles to let themselves relax and sink into a deeper regression when they have a diaper on. I’m sure you felt safe, and I’m very glad.”
I sigh. I’m unnerved, but I guess it’s not going to kill me that I wet myself.
Daddy’s right. He whisks me out of the crib and onto the changing table in seconds. The heavily soaked diaper is gone moments later, and he’s cleaning my folds.
I watch him, holding my breath, willing him to touch me longer. When he stops, I inadvertently whimper.
He meets my gaze and smiles. “You like it when Daddy touches you.”
I bite my lip and don’t confirm. My face is hot.
He opens a jar. “I’m going to put a cream on your pussy, Little one. It needs to sit for five minutes. Can you stay still for me for that long?”
I nod slowly. “What is it?”
“It will remove your hair. Littles who wear diapers need to keep their pussy free of hair so it doesn’t trap moisture.” He’s already putting it on me.
I’m shocked. I’ve never thought of removing my hair, but I kind of like the idea. I bet I’ll feel Littler without it.
I watch him with rapt interest as he cleans his fingers and then sets his palms on my inner thighs. He meets my gaze and smiles. “Stay very still for me, okay, Baby girl?”
I nod.
“How does your wrist feel today?”
I realize I’m holding it against my chest with my other hand. “It’s okay.”
“And your tummy?” He releases my thighs to gently guide my hands to my sides before prodding the bruise on my side.
“It will heal, Daddy,” I tell him. He looks so concerned. It feels funny having someone care about me. I’m sure Amelia would have cared if I had ever shared any of the details about my life, but I’ve never told a soul.
Daddy’s fingers dance lightly around my rib cage, making goosebumps rise all over my skin. I love how he looks at me. It’s hard to believe I’m lying here so exposed on this changing table with my legs spread wide open. I never could have imagined myself in this position in my lifetime.
Well, I did imagine it. I imagined a lot of scenarios, and Brian starred in all of them, but this reality is hard for me to wrap my head around. Has he really rescued me?
When he begins to wipe the cream away from my folds with a wet cloth, I hold my breath. It’s embarrassing how he affects me. Does he know?
He cleans my skin with several cloths until he’s satisfied he got all of the hair remover off and then smooths his fingers over my sensitive folds. “How does that feel, Little one?”
I can’t answer him. Does he mean the fact that my hair is gone or the way he’s touching me?
He doesn’t make me answer, and I whimper when he stops touching me. My heart is beating fast as I watch him open another tube of ointment and squeeze some onto his finger. I think it’s the same thing he put on me last night.
My breath hitches as he touches my special place again. He takes his time, easing the cream all around my private parts, making sure to cover every millimeter of my skin.
When his fingers circle the bundle of nerves above my folds, a rush of pleasure consumes me. My insides flutter. My legs shake, and I fight to hold them open.
He does it again and wetness leaks out of me. I’ve only felt like this when I’ve thought about him alone at night, this weird need that leaves me panting and desperate. A moan escapes my mouth, and I clasp my lips together, mortified by my reaction.
Daddy finishes with the cream and leans over me, his hands on my thighs again, holding me open wider. “No need to be embarrassed, Lacey. What you’re feeling is normal. I’m so glad you enjoy my touch.”
I can’t look at him.
“You don’t know much about sex, do you, Little one?”
I flush deeply.
He secures a fresh diaper on me and scoops me into his arms, careful to make sure my bad wrist settles against my tummy. He’s so gentle with me. I think I might cry, and I don’t want to cry.
He holds me close as he carries me downstairs and over to the fridge. When he opens it, I see there are several bottles lined up on the top shelf. He grabs one and makes his way to the microwave.