Page 29 of Double Daddies (Dirty Daddies Anthologies #8)
“I hate… ugh-ugh…” she ended in a cough as he upended the container and covered her in powder, “this!”
The final dusting of talcum powder left her smelling like a baby powder commercial.
“I hate you both,” she grumbled. “And your fancy bathroom. And your evil rubber ducks. And whatever sadist invented adult-sized baby furniture.”
“No, you don’t,” Drake smiled as he helped her sit up. “And we’re just getting started, little one.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Elle muttered. “I bet you have a collection of bedtime stories, too. Let me guess. ‘Goodnight Moon’ but with stock market references?”
“If you insist, we’ll tell you a story, but first… it’s pajama time.”
Elle stared at Drake in horror as he approached with what could only be described as the ultimate humiliation in his hands—a thick, adult-sized diaper.
“If you think I’m wearing that, you’ve lost your mind.
” She pressed against the wall with her heart thundering.
“I’d rather eat raw Brussels sprouts while getting a root canal.
” Holding out a hand to ward him off, she continued, “I swear to God, bring that fucking thing anywhere near me, and I’ll kick your nuts all the way up your ass so deep that you’ll taste your own poop when you swallow. ”
“Be nice, Elle,” Damian growled, but she detected a twinge of amusement in his voice.
“Since you want us to consider your proposal, you will wear this,” Drake stated with a dark frown, surprising her by letting her crude words slide, but his tone brooked no further argument. “You don’t have to pee in it... yet, but you will wear it.”
“Believe me, that will never happen.” She couldn’t keep the horror from her voice at the thought of having to pee wearing a diaper.
“Now, behave, please.” Drake moved with practiced efficiency, dragging her down and laying her on the changing table before she could bolt.
The diaper crinkled beneath her as he positioned it.
Her cheeks flamed at the sound. His movements were swift and sure as he secured the tabs.
She was too upset to appreciate the warmth of the thick padding settling snugly around her hips.
“This is mortifying,” Elle muttered as he helped her into a pink-polka-dot onesie that made her want to crawl under the nearest rock. The snap of each button felt like another nail in her dignity’s coffin.
“Perfect fit,” Drake said as he lifted her off the table while Damian settled into the rocking chair before pulling her onto his lap.
Her face burned hotter when Amanda, who she now knew was her nanny of all things, appeared with a knowing smile on her face and handed Damian a glass baby bottle filled with warm milk.
That she stayed just added to Elle’s embarrassment as she realized what was coming.
This time, her horror knew no end, and it was painted all over her face. “Oh, hell no!” Elle squirmed. “If you stick that fucking rubber tit into my mouth, I'm going to puke all over you! What am I, one ?”
“I’ve had enough.” Drake’s patience snapped. In one fluid motion, she found herself face-down across his lap, the cool air hitting her thighs as he flipped open the onesie. “Damian, hand me her hairbrush.”
“No!” Elle protested loudly, but he ignored her as the first strike of the hairbrush cracked through the room like a gunshot.
“You will learn to appreciate our care,” Drake lectured between sharp swats that even the diaper couldn’t cushion.
“And this disrespect ends now.” Each impact sent shockwaves through her body, with an inferno building inside her after every sting.
“Every good babygirl needs her bedtime milk and shows gratitude for her Daddies’ attention. ”
“Stop!” she wailed as the brush landed again and again, each strike echoing off the nursery walls along with her yelps. This was nothing like his hand spanking since the solid wood transmitted every ounce of his displeasure with precision.
Elle’s protests dissolved into genuine sobs as her pride crumbled under the relentless assault. “I’m sorry! I’ll be good! Please, Daddy, stop!”
Drake’s hand rested on her bottom. “Will you drink your milk like a good girl?”
“Yes, Daddy,” she hiccupped with tears streaming down her face.
“Go apologize to Daddy Damian.”
Elle shuffled to Damian. Keeping her eyes lowered, she attempted to forget the throbbing of her behind that seemed to intensify with each step. “I’m sorry for being naughty, Daddy,” she mumbled softly as he gathered her close and cradled her against his broad chest.
“You’re forgiven, babygirl,” he cooed into her ear as he picked up the bottle and pressed the nipple against her lips.
She had never fought as hard to force back a gag as when she opened her lips and sucked.
To her surprise, the softness of the nipple wasn’t that offensive, and the warm liquid was milky but richer and velvety, with just a hint of sweetness.
To keep hold of her sanity, she closed her eyes.
“Now, there’s a good girl,” Drake’s deep voice drew her eyes to him. Even though she was still upset about the painful spanking, her heart filled with warmth. He wasn’t angry with her… more than that, there was no disappointment in his gaze as he watched her drink.
Her body relaxed despite her determination to resist as the gentle rocking motion of the chair soothed her still-heated flesh and frazzled mind.
Amanda moved quietly around the room, arranging things for the morning. Her presence was as mortifying as it was oddly reassuring. How else, she mocked herself. This was normal here. Expected.
Elle’s eyelids grew heavy as Damian rocked her.
She leaned into his chest as he stroked her hair.
The gentle motion and warm milk worked their magic, and soon, she drifted off, confused by how safe and cherished she felt despite her earlier resistance.
Her bottom still stung as a constant reminder of the consequences of defiance. Yet she felt oddly secure.
Her last coherent thought was wondering why being cared for felt so right when she should be outraged. The warmth in her belly, the snug embrace of the diaper, and the security of Damian’s arms pushed those questions away as sleep claimed her with the rubber nipple still between her lips.
Elle’s eyes fluttered as consciousness began slipping away, the gentle rocking and warmth from Damian's chest lulling her deeper into drowsiness. The bottle’s nipple slipped from her slack lips.
“Sleep well, our little angel.” Drake’s voice drifted through her hazy mind as soft lips pressed against her forehead. Her fingers instinctively curled around Damian’s hand while the other hand latched onto Drake’s arm, anchoring herself to them both as sleep claimed her completely.
Drake lifted her with tender care. Her head nestled naturally against his shoulder.
With practiced gentleness, he placed her in the crib before drawing a pink, frilly blanket up to her shoulders.
Elle shifted in her sleep, curling onto her side with her hands clasped between her knees, completely unaware of her new sleeping arrangements.
A contented sigh escaped her lips as she burrowed into the plush pillow.
Her face was peaceful in slumber. Both men stood transfixed by the sight of her.
Their fierce, independent baker transformed into this vulnerable angel.
Her long lashes cast shadows on her cheeks, and her blonde hair spread across the pillow like spun gold.
Their breath caught in unison at the soft murmur that drifted through the quiet room.
“Night, my Daddies.”
Drake & Damian
Drake's hand trembled slightly as he traced Elle’s cheek. His eyes met Damian’s, electric blue clashing with stormy gray. A thousand unspoken words passed between them.
“Fuck me,” Drake murmured.
Those three innocent words shattered their carefully maintained control. Drake’s throat worked as he swallowed hard, his usual commanding presence softening at the edges. Damian’s grip on his shoulder tightened as his own mask of stern authority cracked to reveal raw tenderness beneath.
Years of searching, of failed attempts to find the perfect match, of wanting someone who could handle both their dominance and need to nurture, all of it crystallized in this moment.
Their little spitfire, who fought them tooth and nail, who cursed, threatened, and resisted, now surrendered so sweetly in her sleep.
Damian traced circles on Drake’s shoulder. The unconscious gesture grounded them as they watched Elle’s chest rise and fall in peaceful slumber. The moonlight painted silver streaks in her hair, making her appear almost ethereal in her innocence.
Their gazes met again in a silent understanding passing between them.
“I didn’t expect this,” Drake said in a thick voice.
“Me, neither,” Damian’s voice was hushed. “We thought it would take months to break through her defenses, yet look at her. Lying there so innocently, then boldly claiming us as hers with three little words and with the same unconscious authority she wields in her bakery.”
“Indeed, she did.” Drake’s lips quirked up at one corner, matched by the subtle softening around Damian’s eyes. It was their equivalent of a giddy celebration. Their little girl was finally home, even if she didn’t fully realize it yet.
They stood watch for several more minutes, memorizing every detail of this moment.
The special memory of their little girl’s first night truly in their care slowly made its way to its own special compartments in their hearts.
When they finally turned to leave, they moved with careful quiet, unwilling to disturb her perfect peace.
The baby monitor glowed softly on the dresser, ready to alert them to any midnight needs. Elle slept on, unaware of the tender gazes that lingered on her or how her whispered words had cemented her place in both their hearts.