2BeeBlake
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“Changing The Game” - an ABDL/DDLG fantasy story
🕑 Added 2018-11-13 01:45:11 +0000 UTC ****Contains Mature Themes****She isn’t quite snoring…
She breathes lightly in and out, the faintest of wheezes escaping from her nostrils. Gently, her jaw and tongue rhythmically work on the pacifier between her lips. During the day her instinct to suckle, the natural human oral fixation, is kept repressed beneath her adult personality. She doesn’t allow it to betray the façade she presents to the world around her. But at night, when she sheds that façade and behaves the way her heart desires to, I lay her down to bed and slide the rubber nub past her teeth. She falls off to sleep giving that instinct time to come to the surface and breathe.
It’s the weekend, and she has given her baby self permission to show its adorable face.
As I look down at her, resting comfortably under her soft blanket, I begin to wonder if using her pacifier so often will cause that suckling instinct to become stronger. Usually her jaw would relax and slack enough that her pacifier falls out halfway through her nap. But now she is still clamped onto it gently, her mouth working at the rubber nipple despite being asleep. Is her mind being affected by this lifestyle more than she is willing to let on? Is the baby side of her becoming more prevalent?
Just as I am wondering this, her muscles spasm gently and her arm clutches around her teddy bear more tightly. Still asleep, the traces of a smile spread across her face. Immediately any concerns about the possible long-term effects of her daily pacifier use are wiped from my mind.
It’s a shame to wake her, but I can’t resist her anymore.
I reach over the raised bars of her crib and brush a lock of hair away from her face, making sure my fingertips trace gently over her temple, coaxing her awake. Her eyes open slowly and I watch the hazy fog of sleep begin to lift from her. Those glassy orbs blink and scan her surroundings for a moment before looking up at me. She smiles wider. Not bothering to remove the pacifier, she lisps a soft, “hi daddy…”
There is no sound in this world more magical to my ears than her happiness.
“Hi baby girl,” I respond back, continuing to stroke her hair, “did you have a nice nap?” She nods. “Did you have nice dreams?” She giggles and nods again. “I’m glad sweetie.”
The sunlight is still streaming in through the window, illuminating her Winnie the Pooh curtains from behind and casting her nursery into a soft pink-and-yellow midday glow.
“Now, daddy has something very fun planned for his baby girl today,” her eyes light up, “but first…”
I unlock the side of the crib and drop the bars and slide my hand under the pink fleece blanket. My fingertips find the bare skin of her legs, smooth as silk, and I explore them up to her hips. They reach the soft cotton snap-crotch onesie encasing her body. Still keeping her warm under the covers, my hand presses against the soft cotton between her legs and I feel the familiar pillow of her diapers underneath. With a rustle and a crinkle the plastic depresses to my touch. From the corner of my eye I see her cheeks turn bright red. She pulls her stuffie up to her face, shielding my view, but the glee and embarrassed mirth she is feeling emanates beyond her modesty.
It is hard to tell if she is wet under two layers of diapers and her onesie, so I gently spread her legs and slide two fingers under the leg gathers, being careful not to touch her body underneath. Despite her legs and face being warm, the padding between her legs is thoroughly damp and cool, and my suspicions are confirmed.
“…Just as I thought. Looks like baby wet her diapers while she was napping.”
With an embarrassed squeak, she shrinks even further behind her teddy bear and pulls up the covers of her blanket to hide her head. “Noooo… didn’t…” she murmurs, knowing full well the reality of her situation.
“Oh, you didn’t?” I ask with a smile, pulling down the covers and leaning over her. Her nose is just a few inches from mine. Her crystal ball eyes look into mine from over the top of her teddy bear’s head. “Then how did your diapers get so wet? Because only babies wet their diapers”
She smiles and pouts slightly. “Not a baby!”
I can barely keep the lion inside of me from purring any louder as I look into this woman’s eyes and see that she is desperately wants to lose the game of cat-and-mouse we’re playing.
“Not a baby?!” I gasp in feigned shock, “Well then who am I going to take to the park today!?”
Her brow slinks back into an almost hurt expression of sadness. Her chin gurns and she nearly lets the pacifier fall from such a pout. She churns her face into the best impression of puppy-dog eyes she can muster. Pulling herself up to a crouch and sitting on her heels like a child, she bounces slightly, making her little breasts bounce in rhythm.
“But daddyyyyyyyy,” she whines, “Wanna go park!!”
“Well, I’m sorry sweetheart but I was only supposed to take my baby girl to the park today. If I don’t have a baby girl then I guess there’s no going to the park then, huh?”
Checkmate.
“Nooo daddy! I’m your baby girl! I wanna go to the park!”
I smile. “Thought so. And what does that mean?” I gently squish the wetness of her diaper against her body. She shivers a bit as the coldness hits her.
She blushes hotly. “Dat… ummm… I… ummmm….”
I lean in and pull her chin up to our eyes meet. “It’s ok baby girl. Don’t feel ashamed.”
I can feel her spine shudder from here. “I wet my diapee, daddy…” and the moment the words escape her lips she recedes back behind the covers, embarrassed by having to admit what we both know to be true.
“Yes you did sweetheart. But don’t ever say you aren’t a baby again, sweetie. Be proud of who you are. You are a little baby girl. My little baby girl. Understand?” She nods, making her pigtails flop backwards and forwards like one of her bunny rabbit stuffies. “Now does baby still want to go to the park?”
She nods much more intently and happily, her pigtails flying
“What’s the magic word?”
“Pwetty pwease??”
The level of cuteness radiating from her is too much for me to handle. “Well, since you asked nicely,” I say by way of a victory speech. I put my hands beneath her arms and lift her out of the crib and into a hip-side embrace.
Despite her adult frame she is light in my arms. The angelic purity of her Littlespace seems to carry her across the air as if she had the delicate weight of a doll. Her legless, snap-crotch onesie is stretched over her body, her nipples beginning to poke out from beneath the fabric as the coolness of the room touches her skin. After spending an hour under the warm fleece blanket I feel her shiver in the cool air of the room. Immediately she wraps her legs around my waist and with a hand under her squishy bottom I carry her over to her changing table. She still holds her teddy bear as she leans against me, tucking her head against my neck and sucking more deliberately on her pacifier. She kicks her feet excitedly.
She loves getting her diaper changed. I just happen to be the fool lucky enough to be the one to provide that for her.
Resting her bottom gently on the soft PVC-lined table, she sits with her feet dangling over the edge, each knee claiming one of my hips. I feel her feet twist and lock together behind me, holding me there. She smirks, and for an instant I see the naughty devil of the woman peek out through the innocence of the baby girl. I stand there between her legs and kiss her cheek before pulling back to gaze into her eyes. She smells like a lavender baby powder dream. Her skin is as soft as rose petals. Every inch of her, from her heart to her smile, is perfect. Her face flushes with red and she bats her eyes at me. She knows I can’t resist the pull she has on me. I almost think I might lose this ongoing game of cat-and-mouse.
But then I remember the ace hidden up my sleeve…
“Now,” I whisper to her, barely an inch from her ear, “let’s get this diaper off you, shall we?”
And not breaking contact, not wanting to lose a single moment of this woman’s beautiful stare I unbutton the snaps on her onesie, making sure to take my time in doing so…
SNAP…
I see a faint twitch from deep within her eyes. Her mouth begins to betray her mature resolve as the corners start to curl up into a devilishly innocent smile.
SNAP…
Her cheeks flush red with heat and embarrassment and for a moment she looks away. With one finger placed under her chin, I turn her to look at me in the eyes again. I want to see her devolve into a puddle of childlike ecstasy. She obeys.
SNAP…
She lets out a soft gasp as she feels the third button give way, exposing nearly all of the soft cotton and plastic of the diapers encasing her. Her mouth is an inch from mine as we stare, nearly cross-eyed, into each other.
SNAP…
Her onesie is open, and with my left hand I slide it up and away from her sopping wet diaper. With the other I caress her neck and cheek and pull her into a kiss…
Is it her heartbeat I hear pounding so loudly or is it my own? I can’t tell and at this point I don’t care. All there is in the world is this magnificent woman, donning the personality and innocence of her babyish self, her lips against mine, her heart ready to trust me with the most sacred bits of her.
It’s a shame to break the spell of love so quickly. Still holding her head with one hand and her waist in the other, I gently lay her down on the changing table. She smiles, and arches her back slightly.
RIP! RIP! RIP!
One by one, I lessen the tension around her waist by undoing the sticky tabs of her outer diaper. Nothing fancy for naptime. Two layers of simple white diapers. I eyeball the DC Amor and the Rearz Safari diapers and know to save them for something more involved than nap time. She is lying on her back, holding her stuffed bear above her. She plays this game often, trying to ignore how exposed she will be in a moment, but I catch her every now and then glancing down to my work and blushing fiercely.
Of the two diapers she had been wearing, the outer diaper is not soaked, but is still rather wet. I get the sneaking suspicion that she deliberately wet herself more completely before she fell asleep… or maybe the little baby within her is starting to put a hand on the wheel more firmly as she sleeps. The slits I had cut into the underlying diaper to allow her wetness to permeate through both diapers are beginning to bulge as the absorbent polymer has swelled within them. I undo the tapes to the second diaper, again taking my time to allow both of us to strain from the anticipation of the act.
And then I pull away the thoroughly soaked inner diaper as if I’m unwrapping her body like a Christmas present. Her back arches slightly and her legs begin to squirm. The cool air kisses her still damp crotch, and she shivers a bit.
Like all responsible Daddies, Mommies, and Caregivers, the un-cleanliness of a diaper change is something one must get used to. The smell is not the most pleasant thing to endure, but it becomes less offensive over time. Lifting her behind off the changing table, I slide out the two used diapers and deposit them into the diaper pail near the changing table.
On the side of the table is everything necessary to ensure my baby girl will feel fresh, clean, and pure for the next few hours at least. Baby lotion, baby oil, baby powder (talc-free of course), diaper cream, diaper ointment, baby wipes, emergency pacifiers if she is feeling rambunctious, and of course, a collection of more… mature items, which in this moment I spend a few moments eyeballing.
Bracing for how much she will squirm, I wipe her body clean with a few baby wipes. The coldness hits her like a weak cattle prod, and she jerks in surprise as a shiver rockets up her spine. I usually warn her. Not today.
“I’ss cold Daddy…” she whimpers.
I smile. “I know sweetheart, but we have to make sure you’re all clean. Only a bit more.”
I grab both of her ankles with one hand and push up to cause her behind to float a few inches off the table so that I may clean her cute body. Then I gently ease her back down and she continues to play, absent-mindedly, with her teddy.
Then I grab two more simple white diapers to use as burners. After fluffing and softening them, I cut the necessary slits and poke the necessary holes to allow for any more accidents to find their way to the outer layers. Then, repeating the movement, I lift her legs up and slide the diapers underneath her once more.
She hears the lid of a diaper ointment jar being opened followed by the cool, smooth feeling of her daddy’s fingers rubbing the ointment into her hairless body. I take special care to lightly graze her lower set of lips, teasing her. She shudders and blushes, and I see that she is beginning to wet herself slightly, though not with urine this time.
Instinctively, I crank up the bass in my voice. “Someone’s excited to get their diapers on.”
Without a word, she nods. Her eyes are half-closed. Her body is growing slick.
“Well… what are we going to do about that?” I smile. My body is pounding to be free, to embrace my girl and take her here on her changing table. But I keep the beast within me quiet. Mustn’t concede the game too quickly, and without breaking eye contact I reach over to the mature items in the cubby of her changing table. She watches a bottle of lubricant reveal itself and her eyes grow a bit wider.
“Wha’s dat for Daddy?”
“This,” I say as I begin to spread some lubricant on a small sex toy, “is for sneaking cookies before dinner last night, little girl. Yes, I did see you. Daddy knows when his Baby is stealing snacks before dinner. And babies that steal snacks need a little punishment.”
The ace up my sleeve...
She begins to protest, “But Daddy! I didn’t—oooh!!” The small object is already being pushed deep within her body. Her legs tense and her teeth grip onto the pacifier. The ovate device slides into her body before coming to rest as the hilt of it remains outside of her, shaped to match her body’s form. Before any further protest can be made, I clean my hands of lubricant and sprinkle a hefty layer of baby powder all over her exposed crotch and behind before patting it with a towel. Puffs of white smoke drift lazily around her, finding their way to her nostrils. She inhales and sighs as the scent of the baby powder fills her, and for a moment it seems she has forgotten about the foreign object nestled within her.
The first of the two white diapers is pulled up between her legs and taped in place.
I look down at my queen, my siren, the woman I would go to the ends of the earth and beyond for. She’s been here before: trapped in her diapers with a magic toy contained within her… she looks at me and smiles, knowing that with the oblong device placed inside of her, her ability to disobery her daddy will be limited at best. I pull up the second of the two diapers and encase her even further within her infantile prison. Her legs are spread wide from the padding between them.
“Now sweetie,” I declare, “which would you like to wear today?” I hold up the fancy designer ABDL diapers.
She giggles. My heart melts. “Ummmmmmmmmmmmm… Dat one!” she points officially with her index finger towards the Rearz Safari. I fluff it up and slide it underneath her and sprinkle another helping of baby powder within it before taping it around her frame. She will have a lot of difficulty walking with such a large amount of padding hugging her.
To cap the process and complete this ritual, I SNAP, SNAP, SNAP, SNAP the onesie shut, and stand there at the foot of her changing table, smiling motionless, waiting for the cue from my goddess. It doesn’t take long before she does. She drops her teddy bear and gives me the most endearing set of grabby-hands I’ve ever seen.
I take her by the wrists and pull her up to me, she wraps her arms around my neck and we kiss a long, passionate, loving kiss between this Adult Baby Girl and Her Daddy. Her body is against mine. Her perfect breasts are pressing against my chest, her nipples still playing peek-a-boo from underneath the fabric.
I can’t resist anymore.
I stealthily slide my hand to my back pocket, and thumb for a small remote. My eyes take hers and I whisper softly, “You’re a dream I never want to wake up from. I love you, princess.”
Those big glassy orbs look back into mine as she blushes. “I love you, Daddy. You’re the bestestest Daddy ever. I wanna be your baby forever.”
I flick the button on the remote.
Her eyes immediately fold into a desperate smile, and she inhales sharply. The sound of buzzing can barely be made out from within her body and trapped within three layers of thick padding. It doesn’t take long before she is sitting on the edge of her changing table, legs wrapped around me, arms around my neck, slowly grinding her body into her diapers. The remote-controlled vibrator within her works wildly, and she breathes and pants in rhythm with her undulating motion.
I sense when she is getting close to her moment of release, the edge of her ecstasy, before abruptly shutting off the vibrator and relishing the frustration it brings to her. Like a confused child who got their toy taken away she looks at me and whimpers a sound that could only ask one question: Why?
Sensing this, I simply reply, “Naughty girls get punished. My baby girl is not allowed to orgasm in her diapers until daddy says she can. So you’d better be on your best behavior at the park today, or I’ll bring you to the edge over, and over, and over again until you’re screaming for it in front of everyone.”
She gives a look of ultimate incredulity, but the shocked smile that spreads across her face is enough to announce: Daddy has won this round. Luckily, the games we play provide a heart-pounding satisfaction for both of us regardless of who wins and who loses. This measure of control and dominance is equaled only by her willingness to be dominated. Cupping her cheeks in my hands I pull her into another kiss, and it’s clear that she is as excited to see how close to the edge I can bring her as I am of watching her squirm in frustration.
I could kiss this woman until the sun burns out, but there is another order of business which is to be taken care of. Eventually the spell between us ends and we pull back from the kiss.
“Now princess,” I ask, lifting her onto my hip. I can feel her still grinding against my body trying to subliminally convince me to turn her toy back on, but I pretend not to notice. I carry her to her closet. “What would you like to wear to the park today? We might be able to find a dress or a skirt that covers your diapers… but with a butt that fluffy I doubt it.”
…2BeeContinued?
- Blake
