Page 25 of Grace's Daddy

“Uh, I should go potty first.”

He frowns. “Why would you do that?”

I bite my lip.

He cleans his fingers before closing the diaper around me. His large palm comes to my tummy, and he presses against my bladder. It’s pretty full. I haven’t peed since before he came to get me.

“You should always pee after an orgasm, Little one, but from now on your orgasms will all be mine, and you’ll use a diaper afterward.” His voice is firm. He holds my gaze the entire time.

I shudder. This is the first time he’s commanded me to do something so intimate. He’s not backing down.

He continues to rub over my bladder, making it difficult to hold back. His other hand lands near my shoulder, and he hovers over me. “I say that because I’m taking my cues from you, Grace. I can see from your body language that you like it when I’m firm. It’s startling because you’ve never had a Daddy before, but you like boundaries and rules. That’s totally normal for a Little. So, from now on the rule is that you’ll wear a diaper when I say so without argument, and you’ll use it.”

I shudder at his words. He’s right. He reads me well. I couldn’t have known how I would react to a bossy Daddy until he stepped into my life, but I do like the way he asserts his authority.

He drops to his elbow, sets his palm on the top of my head, and rubs my nose with his. “It’s only hard the first time. Don’t fight it, Little one. This has nothing to do with wetting yourself. It’s about control. It’s a power exchange. I’m asking you to submit to me. I know you want to, but there’s a war in your head. It’s normal. When you’re ready to give me your submission, you will.”

His hand on my tummy is maddening. All this talk of submitting is fine, but I really need to pee, and he’s making it hard to deny him. As badly as I want to obey him, he’s right again. I’m holding on to the last piece of my stubborn side by a thread.

This is huge. It could have been anything, but it’s not. We’re at this precipice over diaper use. It’s my free will because to a certain extent, I’m the one in control of my bladder. Not indefinitely and I can hardly compete against his fingers prodding my tummy, but I’m the one who has to decide to let go.

This could have been over taking a bottle or brushing my teeth. It could have been about putting my toys away or making my bed. Eventually I would have pulled out a stubborn card and used it to test him and myself. That moment is now.

He’s so calm. His face is relaxed. He’s not frustrated or angry. He’s not going to punish me. He’s just waiting. Waiting for me to give myself to him. I know several things all at once. The most important is that he’s a patient man. If I can’t do this right now, he won’t force me nor will he be upset. If I asked, he would immediately let me get up and go use the toilet.

Submitting to Eli in this moment is not mandatory. It doesn’t change anything. If I’m not ready, it doesn’t mean he would walk out on me and never come back. It simply means I need more time.

We’re operating on a very strange speedy timeline. It just happened. It fell into place. But I can slow down. I know it in myheart. I can look him in the eyes, tell him to let me go potty. He would kiss me gently and release me. He would still read to me and tuck me into bed.

Eli is asking me to trust him. And I do with shocking clarity. I want him to be my Daddy. I want to turn my care over to him. With every passing second, I feel stronger that some crazy force of nature put Eli in my path. That same force gave me time to look at him. Six months. And then She whipped that piece of mail out of my hands so that it slid under his door at a moment when he happened to notice.

I’m not usually one to believe in Fate or any woo-woo stuff, but a calm settles over me. Peace. Happiness. I release a long slow breath and relax my bladder as tears slowly trail out of the corners of my eyes. Not tears of sadness or anxiety or even frustration. Tears of joy.

Eli shifts his palm from my tummy down to the front of my diaper, cupping me there and pressing against me, putting emphasis on the fact that I’m actively submitting to him. His eyes never leave mine. His brow is intense and deeply furrowed, but he’s smiling. Pleased.

His thumb smooths down to brush away the tears from my temple. “Such a good girl. I know that was hard.”

Eli kisses my forehead before quietly easing back. I watch him intently while he opens my diaper, cleans my skin as gently as possible, plants a reverent kiss on my pussy, and reapplies protective cream.

When I’m freshly diapered, he meets my gaze again with his intense one and growls, “Mine.”

Chapter Eleven

For the first time in five years, I find myself skipping through the next day partly in Little space. It’s hard to extricate myself. I’m so happy; I’m giddy.

Eli put his number in my phone. He even named himself Daddy. He’s been texting me off and on all day. I get butterflies every time.

I manage to work, but the moment I’m off the clock, I bolt for my bedroom and change into a pink dress. Today I give myself two braids just behind my ears.

Eli is at my door at six o’clock. He doesn’t even go into his apartment first. I know because I’m pacing around waiting for him to get home. The moment I open the door, he pulls me into his arms, steps us farther into my apartment, kicks the door closed, and kisses me senseless.

I’m breathless and horny by the time he breaks the kiss. It takes me a moment to realize the entire time he was backing me up all the way into my bedroom. He immediately lifts me off my feet and lowers me onto my bed.

“Hold your dress up, sweet girl.”

I lift it up to my tummy and bite my lip while he removes my panties and diapers me. I’m only slightly bashful about it. We left this particular aspect of regression in the dust last night.

When he stands me on my feet, I blush. Being diapered for the evening is new for me. Doing so in front of Eli is a whole level of monumental.