Posted by Zorro Daddy on January 15, 2010 at 01:52 [174.59.253.194]
Link to Entry One: http://www.wetset.net/dg-bbs/messages/14088.htm
Entry 2 –
Dear Diary,
I had a rough time sleeping last night. Sometimes I can’t find a comfortable position to lie in. Even with Zeke next to me, the bed just isn’t as comfortable as I need it to be. I tossed a lot and I think I might have elbowed Zeke in the groin. (Oops!) I eventually did get to sleep, but it wasn’t easy. When your body aches in different places at different times, it’s tough. When I don’t get enough sleep, I get into a bad mood and nothing can cheer me up. Well … almost nothing. :0
From the moment I woke up this morning, I had a smile on my face. You see, today was Saturday. Zeke had nowhere to be and I intended to keep it that way.
The sun had come up and was coming in through the window. I could feel it shining on me, making it just a little warmer in the room, which I never have a problem with.
I opened my eyes and looked over at Zeke. He was laying there awake and was staring back at me. It scared me to see his eyes open and I shrieked, then broke out into laughter. I turned on my side to face him and rested my head on the pillow. He reached over and stroked the hair out of my eyes. My ponytail had all but fallen out last night, which can get annoying when it happens. You’re trying to sleep and all the sudden you breathe your hair into your mouth, but Zeke tells me it looks beautiful when my hair gets tousled like that.
He traced my eyebrows with his thumb and ran his fingers down my face. I love it when he takes the time to remember the littlest things about me.
After the night I just had, I definitely needed this kind of attention. In fact, I could’ve used an entire day of this. And that’s what I got …..
Most every morning, he will wake me up and give me the morning “check”, and then change me right there in bed. On this day, I hadn’t wet myself so he just carried me out to the living room. When I wake up I feel strong. My strength lessens as the day goes, but I don’t ever let him know that. And if he’s going to carry me around, I’m not going to tell him. I simply wrap my arms around his neck, my legs around his waist and enjoy the ride. ;0
He walked into the kitchen and mixed up my morning bottle with one hand while holding me with his other hand. He sat on the couch, curled me up in his lap, leaned me back into his arms and touched the nipple of the bottle to my lips. I took it into my mouth and began to drink from it. I never know what drink he puts in it. It’s always a wonderful surprise. Although, today I knew what it was because I saw him making it.
He held me in his arms and never took his eyes off of mine. I rest my head on his chest and touch his face with my fingertips. This is always one of those “bonding moments” I was talking about. When I’m in his arms, I’m in heaven. I hear his heart beating. I feel the heat of his body. It’s closeness that’s really close.
Those are the thoughts racing through my mind a lot, mixed in with the joy of having a Daddy. I’m lying in his arms drinking from a bottle and falling in love with him. It’s a BabyGirl’s dream. Well … it’s my dream at least. One of many.
By the end of that bottle, I was prepared to be a baby all day. He could see it in my eyes and I think that’s why he made the whole day “little” for me. After a bottle, he sits me up, embraces me and rocks me gently until I burp. I try to be a girl about it, but sometimes they are loud.
Next it was bath time. Zeke left me curled up on the couch as he went into the bathroom. I heard the water running as I curled up in the fetal position. He crossed from the bathroom to the nursery and back, getting an outfit ready for me to change into after the bath.
Then he came back out to me with a warm smile on his face. He extended his arms out to me to pick me up, and I knew today was gonna be a “baby” day. My heart began racing with excitement. I reached up to him and he lifted me up into his arms. I wrapped myself around him and cradled my head under his chin. I played with his shirt collar with my pinky finger as he carried me into the bathroom.
The “little” feeling overwhelmed me. He slowly strolled to the bathroom, knowing what my senses were going through. He reached down and casually began unfastening my diaper. I could hardly contain myself as we entered the bathroom and I saw the bathtub full of bubbles. He sat on the toilet and sat me on his knee, removing my diaper and throwing it into the waste can.
Proudly I state that I slept in that diaper all night long and up until he took it off of me and threw it away just then, I hadn’t peed in it.
He lifted my nightie off and I sat there on his lap as the tub was finishing getting filled up with water. I was naked, I mean really naked. Head to toe. I wouldn’t have had to be in the “baby” mode to feel little at that moment. There’s a feeling of “vulnerable” that always goes along with being naked. It makes my skin sensitive to the slightest touch. It’s almost like being tickled. I can’t even begin to give justice to the feeling with words. I crave it however, and when he draws his fingers up my back, down my legs, across my chest, I become putty in his hands. I straddled his lap. He kissed my forehead and began running his finger down my scalp and through my hair, taking the hair tie the rest of the way out.
My muscles twitched as he hoisted my body up in his arms and began to lower me into the bubbles, then the water. The warmth of the bath washed over me and I gasped lightly. He rested my head against a towel on the back of the tub he made into a little “pillow” for me.
And there I rested for a few minutes as he exited the bathroom. This was typical of a bath. He would let me lie in the water for a little while, just enjoying its warmth. There’s nothing that feels better in the morning that a warm bath. I feel the bubbles on the surface, the heat rising off the water and I hear the spout still pouring more water in. It relaxes my body and the muscles which get tense, suddenly loosen. I closed my eyes and took it all in.
He came back in a few minutes later and turned the water off. I opened my eyes and looked up at him with a smile that told him I almost fell asleep again. Then he picked up a wash cloth, dipped it in the water and began washing me. The water felt so good that I didn’t want to move my body. I simply lied there and he bathed me with a gentle touch that I had only ever felt from him. .
Our eyes never disconnected. I began to stare at him. Guys don’t know how to touch a girl like that. How does he know how to do it? How does he know the exact pressure to use with his fingers at the right places? It’s a mystery to me.
When he was done, he lifted me out of the tub, toweled my body and my hair lightly. Then he wrapped me in the towel and carried me out to the sofa. This is another enchanting moment. He won’t dress me right away. He will wrap me in a towel and place me on his lap. I will still have that effect of being naked for a little longer.
On the other end of the couch, I saw a brush, a baby-t, a diaper and a few other things. He would dress me right there…when he was ready. I lied in his arms and waited, patiently and quietly. (Have I told you how much I love him yet?)
He placed me on my back on the floor and raised my legs and bottom in the air with one hand. I felt that cool sensation of powder on my toosh and then the softness of the diaper he lowered me back down onto. It was a different feeling of comfort from the warm bath water, but it was another sensation I yearn for as if I had never been touched before. Because honestly, I’ve never been touched like he touches me. I can’t say that enough.
The baby-t covered my top snuggly and I knew I wouldn’t be dressed in anything else. Just my diaper and my baby-t. I was at home and that was all I needed to wear. It’s all I wanted to wear. :0 I went from being naked and vulnerable to being diapered and helpless.
I sat up, stuck my legs straight out, looking at my toes. I wiggle them. I love that Zeke doesn’t make me wear socks. I hate socks. Maybe in the dead of winter when there’s a draft in the air, even indoors. Maybe then I might wear socks, but never any other time. I like to be barefoot. If I’ve taken the time to paint my toenails, I want people to see them. Plus I love the feel of a rug on my feet. I sometimes shuffle across a rug so I can then go up and touch his nose and shock him from the friction. He always knows what’s coming when he sees me shuffling along.
Bare feet on a girl can mean other things, too. Some believe it means innocence or servitude or inferiority. I don’t go that deeply into it. I like being bare foot. It feels good….and maybe…..it adds to the “little” role as well. ;0
Breakfast was oatmeal, just a small bowl. I’ve learned that smaller, more frequent meals is what I can handle, but even then I still get sick sometimes. I love Saturday mornings, cartoons and more cartoons. I sat on the floor Indian-leg style, eating my oatmeal as he brushed out my wet hair and tied a loose ponytail. I can’t have ponytails or pigtails tightly anymore because they give me a headache.
I’m really a lot to deal with right now. Every little thing has to be prepared to my specific likings and I have to be handled with such care. I can’t imagine how I would be able to do this without him. I really can’t imagine how he has been able to deal with me, but he does it all day, every day, and never complains.
Our morning routine is usually a quiet time. I’ve learned to abandon my impulses to run around and be hyper-active. If I do that I will feel tired by the afternoon and the rest of the day will be lost, even with a nap after lunch to rest. So I’ve learned to pace myself. Someday I’ll be healthy again and I intend to make up for lost time by running all over the place until I collapse with exhaustion. Until then, I’ll play it smart.
“Quiet time” sometimes mean “snuggle time”. Today, that was the case. He fixed a sippy cup of apple juice for me and lied down on the couch. I crawled over to him and lay on top of him. He covered me with my blanket and swapped out my pacifier for the sippy cup.
I turned my eyes toward the TV and rested my head on his chest. It felt so good, as it always does, to be that close to him. I could feel the heat coming off his body. I could hear his steady heartbeat. His shirt smelled like the detergent it was washed in mixed with his scent. Every guy has his own unique scent. It’s not a stinky smell, but it’s a scent that makes you think of him, whether you find his shirt on the bedroom rug and pick it up and sniff it, or whether straight up his coat and scarf in the closet , it always makes you think of him.
I began to fall asleep on his chest. It was too comfortable to stay awake and besides, he had turned on ESPN to watch four guys who would talk about football for hours. (They’re not even playing football. They’re just talking about it! Uhh, but I’ll save that topic for another entry.)
Sleeping in a crib has an appeal to me because of everything that is in the crib: the Disney sheets, the teddy bears, the blankets, the nursery it’s in. It also makes me feel little to be in a crib. Sometimes I’ll curl myself up into a fetal position when I sleep or I’ll draw my legs up close to me.
I enjoy the crib and both of those positions, but I really want to be sleeping with Zeke. That crib and all the stuff in it are things that he bought me. Yes, they make me feel little, but so does he. The fetal and curled up positions are about closeness.
Everything centers around thoughts of him. So when I get an unscheduled chance to sleep next to him, I do it, whether I’m tired or not. I actually sleep on top of him, not next to him. I get the closeness that way. And I get him. When he shifts in his sleep, he shifts me right along with him while never losing the connection and never waking up. There’s no better way for me to drift off to sleep than that.
We only slept like that for about an hour or so. We woke up and it was obvious that I really, really needed my diaper changed. I’ll just skip through the messy details of it and say that I was embarrassed when he discovered it, but he made me comfortable, as he always does. It’s one of those instances where you can lose all sense of self-worth unless you have someone to “lift you back up”.
Lunch was fast approaching and Saturday lunch is always spaghetti in a bowl. We sat on the couch and continued to watch …… football! Who on Earth is Joe Paterno? And how old is that guy anyway? Zeke swears allegiance to this guy and to Penn State.
A lot of times Zeke will do the high chair thing with me for lunch, complete with bib. I’ll eat with my fingers and make a mess of myself. But he didn’t do that with me today, so I knew something was up. I twirled the spaghetti with a fork and thought and thought and suddenly realized that he was probably planning some sort of a trip in the afternoon. I didn’t let on that I knew we were going to go somewhere. Instead, I played naïve. He always gets frustrated when I am able to predict what he is planning. Sometimes he’ll ask me how I know and I’ll usually make up some lie like “You were talking about it in your sleep last night.” It’s really nothing more than studying our daily routine. When you do the same thing pretty much every day, which I love btw, and then suddenly you do something different one day, there’s bound to be an explanation for it.
Ah yes, a girl’s intuition wins again! Ha Ha.
We finished lunch and Zeke brought out an outfit to dress me in. It was then that he said we were going on a trip. Not for long, just a chance to get out of the house. The outfit was nothing provocative… a t-shirt, a button down shirt, socks, sneakers and a pair of jeans.
I sat up on the couch and raised my arms up. He took my baby-t off and slid the t-shirt down on me. I can’t even begin to tell you how much fun I have with him when he dressed me. The more I don’t help out, the more difficult it is for him. He managed to get the t-shirt on me and the button down shirt. Then the real fun began. He put socks on my feet. I don’t like socks anyway, so I didn’t really “help”. He eventually stopped dressing me and gave me a look of disgust. So I stopped, giving him a wink.
I found myself lying on the couch as he checked my diaper one last time before we went out. Then he began slidding the jeans up my legs. I made the process easy for him and soon he was buttoning and zipping them up around my waist. They felt a little tight, but that was more from the diaper butt I had than anything.
I sat up and he put the sneakers on my feet, tying them with double knots just like is done for a little child.
He then sat and got comfortable on the couch, knowing full well that I had to do my hair and face. I wouldn’t feel comfortable going out otherwise. I went into the bathroom and curled up the bottoms of my pant legs. If I have to wear socks, then why hide them? I rolled up the sleeves of the button down shirt and tucked the shirt into my jeans. I turned around, looking into the mirror to make certain that the tucked-in shirt was loose enough to covered at least some of my bottom. Through the jeans, it was a little obvious I was diapered. Either people would think that or that I had a big butt. Neither option was appealing to me.
I did my face and hair next and then walked out into living room. Zeke stood up and took in my “image” as he likes to call it. The look in his eyes and the expression on his face made me melt. He took me into a gentle hug, so as to not ruin the work I had done on myself. His arms wrapped around me as he patted my diapered and “jeaned” bottom while giving my neck little kisses. I wiggled a little because it tickled me. But it makes me feel wonderful when he takes time to notice me like this. I’m always his BabyGirl and the attention he gives me as his baby is intoxicating. But I’m also a “Big Girl too sometimes” as he likes to say. My heart beats when he tells me how pretty I am, and when he can’t keep his hands off me.
He picked up a diaper bag that he had packed while he waited for me. I checked inside to make certain I had another outfit in it. As I looked through the bag, he stuffed a pacifier in my shirt pocket.
He smiled at me, gave me one of his playful winks and away we went to Central Market. Yes, he actually tells me what we are going to do. When we were vacationing in the Bahamas, he never told me what we were doing and always left it be a surprise. I told him a week ago that the “surprise thing” had gotten old. It irritates me that he never tells me what we are going to do. He understood and stopped keeping it from me.
We were only a few blocks away, but he opted to drive to prevent me from having to walk too much. But I was feeling well. Still he drove us and parked at the King Street Parking Lot.
We took the back alley into Central Market. This is a really neat market. It is the oldest farmer’s market in America still in operation. Fridays and Saturdays from really early until mid afternoon. Lancaster County is known for its Amish all ready and the stands in this market are a part of that.
As soon as we entered I went over to the candy stand right away. I always do. It’s called “Simply Sweet” and it’s just that. They have everything. I always get a bag of the gummy bears and then spend the rest of our time at the market eating them.
It’s my guilty pleasure, but Zeke has a guilty pleasure too. He loves cheese, which I think is pretty stupid since he has a lactose problem. His grandmother and father had this problem all their lives. And his brother can’t even look at the word “milk” without having trouble. Yet Zeke indulges himself with one of those blocks of hickory smoked cheese.
We always then get a bag of Amish Pretzels and then go to the Prince Street Café. So we walked in there with pretzels, cheeses and gummie bears. The people behind the counter waved. They’ve gotten used to us coming in with food. They let it go. I ordered a Cocoa Joe which is half coffee, half chocolate. Zeke got iced tea. He usually drinks Turkey Hill Iced Tea, he’s a bit of an addict. I keep telling him he’s not going to like the kidney stones that stuff causes.
We took our order number to a table by the window and sat down. When we’re out in public, you’d have no idea that we were Daddy and BabyGirl. That’s what I love. We never make it obvious to anyone. So they brought our drinks and we talked about this and that. I say it that way because I’m not always interested. Zeke usually talks about the next book he published on lulu.com. All the while I was simply enjoying a trip into the public in a diaper. The way it feels on me makes me tingle inside. And I was taking liquid down, so it was only a matter of time before I wet myself in public. I wondered how that experience would make me feel.
I was still feeling well on the day and he was right. A chance to get out and enjoy the day is just what the doctor ordered. And three more cups of Cocoa Joe is just what I ordered. I have a chocolate problem. (What girl doesn’t love chocolate? lol ) But for me, it isn’t just an addiction. It’s a serious problem. If you give me a bag of chocolate, I will eat it all. M-n-Ms, Rolos, Reese’s cup, they don’t stand a chance of surviving. So chocolate coffee was something I could keep drinking.
I’m going to miss these days when it get really cold as winter really sets in. Just walking around downtown Lancaster is a lot of fun, but Zeke is really skinny and he gets chilled easily. So we won’t do it much in winter.
This is also the reason why we moved to one of the couches by the fireplace. Sitting next to the window can get him cold. I didn’t mind moving. The couch was comfy. But it was when I stood up that I realized I shouldn’t be ordering anymore coffee. I don’t have a very big bladder anyway and I was definitely at capacity.
I moved slowly over to the couch and gently sat down. I had no desire to leave, even though my bladder had me concerned. I picked up a magazine on the coffee table and began flipping through it to distract myself. I came across one of those quizzes for couples. I stretched out on the couch, using Zeke’s lap as a pillow, and we took the quiz. I scored well on it. Zeke did okay, but I wasn’t expecting him to do great. After all, it is a girly magazine and those tests are biased to females.
The distraction worked for a little while, but I sat up and accept what was going to happen. Zeke saw the look on my face change. He asked if I wanted to leave. I nodded yes and then stood up. I took one step forward and Zeke wrapped the button down shirt he was wearing around my waist quickly, tying it around my front. I recalled he did this once before as we got off the plane in Miami on our vacation. I had leaked through the seat of my jeans.
I guess I should’ve been mortified and felt humiliated, but it wasn’t that bad. I did feel a little embarrassed as we exited the café. I looked at the other people as we left, hoping not to detect in their faces that they knew something was wrong. They had no idea. That was the neat part.
My body language must’ve told Zeke that I was beginning to feel little. As we slowly walked down the street back to the car, he patted my bottom lightly and told me it was okay. The tone in his voice when he spoke turned my mind that much further back to “little mode” almost instantly. I leaned up against him and rested my head on his chest. I was starting to feel better as I continued wetting myself, but I began to worry that my diaper wouldn’t hold it all. I just kept peeing and it wasn’t stopping.
By the time we got to the car, I felt like my diaper weighed ten pounds. It was so swelled up that I had trouble walking straight. It seemed we had made it without anyone noticing. I will never forget how much of a close call it was though.
And I definitely will not ever forget what Zeke did next…
We had made it to the car and we only lived a few blocks away. We were in the clear. I was feeling little, but Zeke did something that turned me from feeling “little” into feeling like a “baby”. Even now as I write this it makes me tingle just thinking about.
Oooh! Zeke just told me it’s bath time soon. So I need to finish writing. Let me tell you what he did before I’m done with this entry…
So we got back to the car and I was expecting to just get in the car and go home, but Zeke opened the back door on the passenger’s side and he untied the shirt from my waist. He took the button down shirt I was wearing off of me and laid me done on the backseat. Then he took the pacifier from my shirt pocket and placed it between my lips. I took the pacifier in my mouth with a look of confusion on my face. It was a few seconds before I figured out what he was about to do.
He untied my double-knotted sneakers and took them off my feet. Then he reached into the front seat and grabbed the diaper bag!
My eyes almost bugged out of my head. I kept a steady eye on the windows, hoping no one would walk by as he unzipped my jeans and slid them off me. He tossed the jeans and shirt on the floor of the back seat. I was now lying there in a t-shirt, a pair of pink socks and a wet diaper. I remained perfectly still as kept checking the windows for passers-by. I sucked on my pacifier nervously. He leaned over me and stroked my cheeks, while saying “Shh. Shh. Shh.”
I melted into the seat when he did that. I don’t know how he is able to relieve my tension with simple words and gestures, but when he did that, I felt all the nervousness go away. My body relaxed as he unfastened my wet diaper. I looked up at him with adoration. I didn’t matter where we were, he was able to control everything about with a kind of gentleness and tenderness that made me want him more and more every time he did this.
Zeke took his time wrapping up my wet diaper into a ball. He casually got out the next diaper and unfolded it. I raised my hips at his command and he wiped me clean before I smelled the powder he was putting on me. I was in a heavenly state of mind as he lowered my body down onto a diaper and then folded it around me and taped it into place. I thought we were done at this point…
I thought wrong. He lifted me up into his arms and picked up the wet diapered he had balled up. I clung around his body ever-so-tightly. He began walking over to a trash can. I looked back at the car as the door closed. There went my only chance at a quick dash back into the car if I were discovered.
He slowly walked to the trash can, in no hurry at all. There I was in his arms, dressed in a pink t-shirt, pink socks, and a diaper that was uncovered and clearly visible to anyone who might be nearby. My emotions went from being afraid to being excited to feeling like a “baby”. It’s a wild ride when your emotions change so quickly like that.
He dropped the wet diaper in the trash and walked back to the car while rocking me gently and patting me on my diaper. I could have remained there, in his arms and in that state forever, whereas a few moments earlier, I was petrified. The world around me faded away and all that mattered to me was Zeke.
We got back to the car and he unlocked the doors. He placed me in the front seat and buckled me in. My feet never touched the ground.
We drove home and spent this evening watching movies. He made steaks for dinner, and now he is telling me that I really need to finish writing now. It’s bath time for me and then off to bed.
Nite Nite!
Lily ( one very happy BabyGirl! )
Email: zorroabdaddy@yahoo.com