Elizabeth McKay Caring for Kylie [Blushing] (pdf)

Caring for Kylie

Elizabeth McKay

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McKay, Elizabeth

Caring for Kylie

eBook ISBN:

978-1-62750-618-2

Cover Design by ABCD Graphics & Design

This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this

book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as

Blushing Books' or the author's advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking

of minors.

Table of Contents:

Chapter One ............................................................................................................... 5

Chapter Two .............................................................................................................13

Chapter Three ...........................................................................................................20

Chapter Four ............................................................................................................30

Chapter Five .............................................................................................................37

Chapter Six ...............................................................................................................49

Chapter Seven ..........................................................................................................62

Chapter Eight ...........................................................................................................75

Chapter Nine ............................................................................................................83

Epilogue ...................................................................................................................91

Ebook Offer ..............................................................................................................94

Blushing Books Newsletter ......................................................................................95

Blushing Books ........................................................................................................96

Chapter One

Kylie handed the cab driver two twenty dollar bills and apprehensively exited the car.

Much as she'd rather have just told the driver to turn around and take her back home, she knew

she needed to take care of this errand—the sooner the better. With one last wistful look over her

shoulder, Kylie watched the taxi pull away from the curb, assuring herself that, no matter

whether or not she took care of this, she was at least in the right place to do it.

If only she could muster enough courage to walk the ten small steps it would take her to

enter the door in front of her. It wasn't that the door itself was any different than a million

others—it was just one of many similar doors in a strip center, with a variety of different stores,

each seeing their fair share of people coming and going, making their purchases, and then

moving along with the rest of their everyday lives. But for Kylie, the store in front of her was

more than that. It was a symbol of her lifelong shame, a reminder that she was not like everyone

else, and probably never would be.

Nervously, she shifted back and forth, twirling a piece of her long curly blonde hair with

her left hand, while the thumb and middle finger of her right hand pinched a section of her skirt;

the two digits rubbing against one another through the thin cloth.

Had she been able to see her reflection at that moment, including the bowed head and

submissive posture, she would likely have tried to pull herself together and gain back her

determination to be more mature and self-sufficient, which is what had gotten her out of the

house that morning and to this sidewalk.

Having lived a very sheltered life thus far, Kylie was determined to start living the way

she wanted, the way she should; her goal being to operate as independently as possible, taking

care of herself, and her own needs. If nothing else, the last few months had taught her that it was

not a good idea to rely too heavily on anyone else, and she needed to be able to act like the

mature adult she was—and face every necessary task head on.

Inside the store, and unbeknownst to Kylie, she had a small audience. Brad Moore, the

owner of the shop, had come in to discuss various business matters, and was talking to Mara

Graham, the shop manager, about a special shipment that would be arriving, as well as providing

her with details of an after-hours pick up that had been arranged. While waiting for her to

respond to a question he posed, he looked up from the paperwork that had been holding his

attention, and noticed that Mara seemed to have stopped following the course of the

conversation, and was instead focused on something beyond him, outside the store.

Brad turned to see what was creating the distraction, and saw the small blonde standing in

her sundress and sandals outside, looking lost and frightened. The protective side of his instincts

immediately went on alert, and he had the strangest impulse to go outside, scoop her up, and let

her know she was safe, and that no one would harm her. Just as he was planning to take action of

his own accord, Mara spoke as she pushed past him. "Looks like we have either someone who's

lost, or a reluctant shopper outside. I'm going to run out and see if she needs some help."

Brad watched as his employee approached the girl, while he slowly began making his

own way toward the door. He was relieved that Mara had taken the first step, knowing that the

girl was less likely to be frightened away when approached by another female. Mara, as a

woman, would be less intimidating, and therefore was obviously the better choice to initiate a

conversation with the girl. Hell, if he'd have gone running out there like his initial instincts

dictated, he might now be chasing the little thing down the sidewalk.

Mara slowly approached the girl, who looked as though she might faint now that she

realized she had been noticed, and that someone was going to talk to her. "Hello sweetie. I'm

Mara. I saw you standing out here, and wanted to make sure you were okay. Are you looking for

a particular store? I work right here," she said, gesturing in the general direction behind herself,

"and I'm familiar with pretty much every place around here. Do you need some directions?"

Kylie slowly allowed her gaze to travel upward from where they had been focused on the

tips of her shoes, her thickly lashed hazel eyes taking in the tall, professional looking woman

standing in front of her. The sight of this confident looking brunette, with her shiny hair and

beautiful green eyes, combined with the kind and soft tone of her voice, helped bring Kylie back

into the present. After releasing the gulp of air she did not realize she had been holding since she

saw the door opening, Kylie tried to reply, but her voice came out sounding more like a whisper,

and was unintelligible at first. Taking another breath, she made her second and more successful

attempt at a response.

"Y-you work here? A-at this store?" she stuttered. "Yes, I'm coming here. Um, this is

where I want to come, it's where I'm coming." Oh god, she thought, I sound like a total idiot.

What is wrong with me? This is just a nice lady, wondering why the crazy girl is standing in

front of her store, acting like she's afraid it's Freddie Kruger's house.

Kylie was so intent on keeping eye contact with the woman in front of her, hoping her

steady gaze would convince the woman that she wasn't unbalanced or weird, that she hadn't yet

noticed the very tall and imposing man who had now also exited the store, and was carefully

watching the interaction between the two.

Unfortunately, his time of going undetected came to an abrupt halt. Upon hearing Kylie's

unfortunate turn of phrase, he was forced to clear his throat to prevent the laughter that instantly

and unexpectedly rose up and fought to be released. Not a man who normally responded to

puerile humor, Brad was surprised that her wording hit him as it did. Perhaps it was less what

she'd said, and more the adorable way she'd stammered over her words, trying to respond

sensibly, but getting tied up by her shy nervousness. Whatever the cause, Brad felt even more

protective of her now that he had heard her sweetly melodic voice, and was now more inclined

than ever to make sure she was not in any danger or distress.

In response to the unexpected sound of Brad's stifled chuckle, Kylie's attention was

immediately drawn in his direction. Her eyes widened as she took in his tall, nearly six foot eight

frame. He was dressed in boots, jeans and a plain black shirt, and she felt suddenly frozen to the

spot, as though he had somehow absorbed all of the energy from her body.

Not wanting to appear obvious in her perusal, she cautiously peered at him from the

corner of her eye, taking in his sharp features, his keen navy blue eyes, and hair so dark and

black that it looked almost indigo in the places where the sun hit it. With his harsh features and a

large frame, this was a man who would more commonly be referred to as arresting, rather than

handsome. But whatever the description, there was no doubt that this was a guy who could easily

have his pick of available women.

Goodness, she thought, he's a giant, like a real life giant. I don't think I've ever seen

anyone so tall. She wouldn't be surprised if he had to duck when he went through doorways. His

legs seemed to go on forever, and she was pretty certain that if she stood next to him, she

wouldn't clear much past his waist

Looking at him, Kylie was unaccountably struck with conflicting emotions, feeling both

that he was dangerous, and somehow, strangely, safe. Not sure how long she had been standing

there, staring at him like a dolt, she realized that it had surely been much longer than was polite.

Blushing furiously, she slid her eyes back to Mara. She was embarrassed that she had so

completely zoned out under the gaze of the huge stranger, and wasn't even sure whether the

woman was still speaking to her or not.

By this time, Mara had also turned and was facing Brad, gesturing with her eyes for him

to try and keep things relaxed and nonthreatening. It was apparent from her expression that she

feared a misstep by either of them would result in causing their little visitor to flee—before

they'd even determined why this particular store was her destination. And why she seemed to be

so scared and timid.

Turning back toward Kylie with a wide smile, Mara spoke to her in the kindest and most

soothing voice possible. "So dear, why don't you come on in? I don't know about you, but I'm

ready to get out of this heat and into the nice air conditioning. Brad, can you get the door for us,

please?" Taking the opportunity to loosely circle her arm around Kylie's narrow shoulders, she

slowly but effectively began to escort the young woman into the store—before she had time to

fall back into a state of nervous trepidation.

Gently steering Kylie into the store, Mara did not halt their progress until she had reached

the low sales counter located toward the rear of the shop. Subtly turning them around, Mara

neatly manoeuvred the girl onto one of the chairs that were provided for waiting customers.

Bending down and leaning slightly toward the girl, Mara peered intently into Kylie's

unusual gray eyes with their little green flecks, careful to keep a certain distance to ensure she

was not invading the girl's space. Once assured that the girl did not look ready to jump up and

run screaming from the store, Mara spoke. "So sweetie, now that we know you are at the right

place, why don't you tell me your name, and what I can do to help you."

Though it was not like her to be nosy about her customers' lives, it wasn't often that a

young girl like this would need to visit a medical supply store. Most of their clientele were

elderly, or in the healthcare field. While it was not impossible that this young woman was a

health worker of some type, something about Kylie's demeanor suggested that her presence was

the result of something more personal. Of course, the basic list of expected customers did not

account for their more 'elite' clientele, however it seemed unlikely that this child was part of that

group.

Their special customers came to them for the products that epitomized the true nature of

all of Brad's stores, and were primarily wealthy individuals looking for special and custom made

items; such as St. Andrews' crosses, spanking benches, stocks, and other items not readily

available in a typical sex shop, or easily obtained online

Realizing the other woman was expectantly watching her and awaiting her response,

Kylie gulped nervously, feeling overwhelmed and slightly nauseous as she quietly replied. "My

name is Kylie. Kylie Shannon, ma'am."

Glancing over Mara's shoulder, Kylie noted that the tall man from outside—the man

Mara obviously knew, and called Brad—had followed them inside. She wondered if the two

were a couple. It would make sense; two tall beautiful people like that could only belong to one

another. So why did that make her feel sad? She did not even know these people, and yet she felt

undeniably drawn to them somehow; especially to the man, Brad. She couldn't explain why, but

she was almost mesmerized by him. His mere presence caused her breath to shorten, and her

palms to become slightly sweaty and warm.

Having had little experience or opportunity to interact with others, Kylie had developed

an odd habit of trying to categorize and make up stories about the people that she would come

across, and she immediately cast Mara as the cool aunt—the type you read about in books or see

on TV. Responsible, but fun, women you could count on to help you through friend and

boyfriend troubles, to help you pick out trendy clothes, teach you about make-up, and take you to

get pedicures. Kylie wasn't sure whether such women actually existed outside of fictional stories,

but if they did, she imagined they'd probably be just like Mara. Brad, on the other hand, well he

was much harder to categorize. She had no storyline for this man who made her feel so off

balance; both weak and weirdly energized at the same time. For the first time in her almost

nineteen years, Kylie was attracted to a man, and it was a disconcerting feeling.

Though she vaguely recognized that her reaction to him might be considered similar to

that of a teen to a rock star; the physical aspects of that attraction were so new and unknown that

she could not name them for what they were. She just knew she was somehow drawn to him, and

that, like a dark angel, inviting him in could be both very bad and very good.

As her gaze flickered between Mara and Brad, Kylie knew that she had once again

allowed her mind to go off on a tangent, and they were now both waiting for her to reply to the

last part of the question. Why was she here?

She unconsciously began twisting her fingers into knots in the folds of her dress. Oh God,

she thought, I can't, I just can't tell her what I'm here for. Especially not with him standing there,

able to hear every word. I'd die. Why can't I just disappear? Just melt into a puddle right here

and ooze out the door, go home and pretend that I never tried to do this?

Effectively picking up on the girl's obvious discomfort, and correctly guessing its cause,

Mara turned to Brad, and with a raised eyebrow and discreet hand motion that could not be

mistaken to convey anything other than 'please leave, you're making her uncomfortable', she

silently implored him to make himself scarce.

Brad caught the look, stunned to find himself still standing there and staring at the crown

of the young girl's head—no, not just 'the girl' any longer, but Kylie; a cute name for a cute girl.

Normally, he'd have already excused himself, leaving the young lady in Mara's capable

hands. He did not do emotional outbursts. Not only did he have absolutely no idea what to do

with a freaked out female, he'd never before had even the slightest inclination to find out.

Though he'd felt an uncharacteristic and immediate pull toward Kylie, there was no way

he could overlook the fact that she was definitely too young and too innocent for someone like

him. Rousing himself from his momentary musing, he began walking toward the back of the

store, calling, "Mara, I'll just go in the back and look over those final inventory sheets, and then

check in with you before I leave," over his shoulder as he left.

With Brad's exit from the area, Mara could see Kylie visibly relax, releasing some of the

tension that had been evident throughout her body. Uncertain how long Brad planned to wait in

the back room, pretending to check inventory, she again spoke to the girl, her questions designed

to figure out what Kylie could possibly need from their store.

"Kylie, since you've already said that this is the store you were looking for, can you tell

me what you need? Is this for you, or for someone in your family?" Mara asked; having had the

sudden realization that she'd actually overlooked an obvious possibility—perhaps the girl could

be shopping for an elderly or incapacitated family member. While that was technically a

potential option, it had not immediately occurred to her, perhaps because the girl's demeanor did

not tend to indicate that was going to be the case.

"Yes ma'am, this is the right store. I'm sure," Kylie replied, as she reached into the purse

strapped across her chest, and pulled out a small wallet and a folded piece of paper.

Taking the sheet Kylie held out to her, Mara unfolded it, instantly recognizing it as one of

the store's delivery receipts. As she began scanning the details, she asked, "Was there a problem

with the order?" Once she had read the two-month-old form fully, Mara recognized both the

address and the order as one from a long established delivery client, who had placed online

reorders every forty-five to sixty days for the past several years. Efficient in her management of

the store's day to day operations, it was almost a sure bet that when she'd failed to see a new

order come in the few weeks prior, she would have addressed it somehow, but without looking at

the account records, she could not recall if she'd sent out an inquiry to the customer to make sure

nothing had been overlooked, or if there was another reason they hadn't placed the customary

order.

"No, no problem. I, I just need to, um, get some, ah... well, to reorder and get a delivery,

please. As soon as possible, please," Kylie replied, her voice shaking and eyes visibly filling with

unshed tears.

"That's fine, Kylie," Mara assured her. "I can take care of this for you, no problem. But

why didn't you just place the order online, as you have been doing?"

"Well, I need them now, and I didn't know the password for ordering, and Mrs. Granger

isn't there anymore, so I didn't know who to ask to help me, and I'm almost out, and I need, I

need…" Kylie said, her voice breaking as she fought to force the final words through her tight

throat.

The tears she'd tried to hold back began spilling forth, running down her cheeks in

glistening trails, turning her hazel gray eyes to a shimmery silver.

Without thinking, Mara immediately crouched down in front of her and pulled her into

the circle of her arms, pressing the overwrought young girl's face to her shoulder, patting her

back and speaking soothingly to her. "It's okay, Kylie. No need to cry, darling. We'll get you all

sorted out. There, there baby, you're okay, everything is okay."

Mara continued to hold the girl for several more minutes, whispering soft assurances and

waiting for her to calm down. After Kylie's sobs had subsided to the occasional hiccupping

shudder, her subsequent withdrawal from Mara's arms indicated she seemed to have gained back

most of her self-control. Reaching across the counter, Mara grabbed some tissues and passed

them to the girl. "Okay, Kylie. Here, honey, wipe your face,"

Kylie gratefully accepted the wad of tissues. Wiping her face and blowing her nose, she

was mortified by her behavior. She had just cried on a perfect stranger. Bad enough that Mara

would think her a baby for needing diapers, but now she'd just proved how much of a real baby

she was by acting like a two-year-old, and crying in the middle of the store. She was sure her

face was now all red and splotchy. Not to mention that her nose was running, and her head and

throat were aching from her long crying jag. She had only thought she was embarrassed before,

now she felt totally ashamed, and couldn't even imagine how she would ever recover from the

memory of this low moment.

Chapter Two

Rising from her crouched position, Mara straightened up, calmly made her way behind

the counter, and began working at the computer. Kylie was amazed at the woman's attitude. She

was acting for all the world like nothing odd had occurred, behaving as though having sobbing,

overgrown toddlers crying all over her was an everyday event that did not even call for a

momentary pause.

After a minute or so of typing into the system, and pulling up the store's inventory, Mara

looked over. "Okay, Kylie. Looks like I have two bags of the night-time and one of the pull-ups

in stock right now, so I'll give you those to take today. Then we'll deliver the rest of your order

sometime over the next five to seven days. How does that sound?" Mara's tone, when stating

these details, was deliberately matter-of-fact and business-like, providing a welcome chance for

Kylie to transition from her earlier breakdown to a more even keel.

She was surprised by how normal everything seemed now, as she happily affirmed her

agreement with the arrangements. "That sounds great. Th-thank you, ma'am." Opening her

wallet, she stood up and passed her credit card over to Mara so she could complete the

transaction. Mara took the card, and then asked her if she could see her ID as well, explaining

that it was simply standard procedure for all credit card transactions.

The older woman was both relieved and pleasantly surprised to note that Kylie's state-

issued identification reflected that she was just a few months shy of her nineteenth birthday.

Though the store did generally follow protocol that called for them to check IDs on credit card or

check purchases, Mara's true intent in this case had been more to see whether or not the girl was

of legal age, determining that would be an important factor in deciding if she needed to try to

glean more information about Kylie's personal circumstances. If she had been, as she appeared to

be, underage, Mara would have asked the girl outright, why her parents or guardian had not

stepped in to take care of this for her. However, since Kylie was a legal adult, the questions she

would have asked were now less important, since there was technically no one responsible for

her personal care, other than the girl herself.

Mara had already noted that the only person Kylie had mentioned so far was a Mrs.

Granger—her use of the formal title and comment implying that she was neither a relative, nor

currently present in Kylie's life, but there was still a possibility that Kylie had other family she

had just not mentioned. Rather than pursue this train of thought, Mara did not make any further

inquiries along those lines, lest she frighten her off and be left unable to help her at all.

From Kylie's somewhat more relaxed posture, and the small smile resting on her face, she

made it obvious that Mara was on the right track to putting the girl at ease, and helping her move

past her emotional breakdown of moments ago. Continuing in the same friendly manner, Mara

asked her if she wanted to use the same card for future delivery orders, and confirmed that they

would again set up an automatic delivery to be sent out every eight weeks or so.

When they were offered back to her, Kylie took her ID, credit card, and the receipt the

older woman held out, and began placing the items into her wallet, until Mara reminded her that

she needed to sign and pass back the receipt so that her payment could be processed. Feeling

gauche and immature over her obvious inexperience in handling such a simple thing, Kylie

hastily accepted the pen she was offered, and signed the slip before giving it back to Mara.

Taking back the signed receipt, Mara passed Kylie a cold bottle of water she had taken

from the small refrigerator below the counter, accurately perceiving that the poor girl might need

it after the cry she'd just had. Finalizing her entries in the system, she watched as the girl briefly

struggled with the top of the water bottle, before finally opening it and taking a large gulp.

Looking directly at the calmer and more in control Kylie, Mara spoke once more. "Kylie,

I am just going to put your order together for you. Do you have your car parked nearby? If you

want, you can pull around to the back and I'll help you load it up."

Kylie shook her head. "No ma'am, I don't drive. I took a taxi. I guess I need to call one

now to come and get me. I should have had them wait—I wasn't thinking. I was just so nervous

about coming here that I didn't even think about after… about how I was going to get home."

Reaching into her purse, she pulled out her cell phone, intending to call the cab company to

come and collect her.

"Kylie, wait. Since you usually order for delivery, we'll handle this like a normal

delivery—except we'll be delivering something extra this time. You." She gave the girl a wide

smile, waiting to see how she would respond. While this certainly was not normal procedure by

any stretch of the imagination, Mara's maternal instincts just wouldn't allow her to send the girl

off in a cab, not knowing if she would arrive home safely. For some unexplained reason, even

though the girl was all but a total stranger to her, she couldn't help but feel somehow responsible

for ensuring that Kylie would be okay when she left.

Though grabbing a taxi was generally considered a safe and convenient way to get

around if you did not have your own transportation, Mara recalled that the local news stations

had recently run a series of stories about young women who had been violated by cab drivers

when calling for a ride home after a night of partying downtown. Further, aside from her own

concerns, it had been obvious that Brad had been intrigued by Kylie, and being the type of man

whose protective instincts ran deep, he would not be pleased to know that the young girl was

riding alone in a cab. Day or night, drunk or sober, the girl's overall shyness, small size, and

timid nature were all red flags that could easily invite the attentions of a predator.

Kylie smiled back at Mara gratefully. "If you are sure, I don't want to be more trouble,"

she said, all the while hoping that the older woman would not retract her offer.

She hated taking taxis when she needed to go anywhere. They usually smelled gross, like

old food, sweat, and something weird and earthy—kind of like mushrooms. The drivers often

seemed to watch her in the mirror as they drove. Sometimes they even said bizarre or suggestive

things to her… like the one who said he loved small girls like her, calling her 'a cute little

spinner', and saying how much fun they could have together. She had no idea why he'd called her

a spinner, since she had just been sitting in the seat, not moving at all, but it certainly made her

uncomfortable.

Once he'd dropped her off, she'd realized that she wasn't just offended by his comments

and lecherous looks, but that she needed to be worried because, since he'd picked her up at her

home, the creepy man knew where she lived. Horrified at the thought that she might lead more

freaks to her front door, she'd started requesting that the cab meet and drop her off at the corner

of a main intersection a couple of blocks away from her home whenever she needed

transportation.

Mara walked into the back room to put together Kylie's order, and also to let Brad know

the coast was clear and he could leave whenever he was ready. Since one of her part-time

employees was due to arrive in a few minutes, Mara planned to drive Kylie home personally,

however, when she saw the questioning look on Brad's face, it was soon clear that, while he had

remained out of sight, he must have heard all—or at least most—of what had transpired between

her and Kylie in the showroom. Entering one of the aisles between the tall stacks of supply

shelves, Mara began pulling what was needed to fill Kylie's order. Finding Brad right behind her,

she passed the first package to him before moving down the row and reaching for the next items.

Brad looked down at what he was holding with some surprise. "Is this what she came

for?"

Mara waited to respond, wanting to be facing Brad, before replying to his question. Not

entirely certain what he had overheard, she wanted to be able to gauge his reaction before getting

too in-depth about her plans regarding the best way to help the girl.

The two had known each other for a number of years, and were more than employer and

employee. Over time, their mutual respect and care for one another had evolved, and they

considered each other the same as family.

Mara knew first-hand how dedicated Brad could be when it came to helping any female

that he felt needed protection. The two had met when she herself had been in need of rescuing.

Shortly after divorcing her first husband, she had become intrigued by what little she

knew of BDSM. Wanting to explore it further, she began corresponding with a man on one of the

fetish websites she had visited. Thinking him to be an experienced Dom, who would ease her

into the lifestyle, she had eventually agreed to meet up with him for an evening at an exclusive

BDSM club located just outside of Austin. Though she had no way of knowing it at the time, the

club just happened to be one that Brad owned with his childhood friend, Joshua Graham.

Unfortunately, the so-called Dom had turned out to be more of a psychotic and sadistic

sicko, forcing Brad and Joshua to step in and save her when her partner took the scene beyond

the consensual easy introduction she had expected.

Supporting Mara through her recovery from the trauma, Brad and his partner not only

ensured that the man was banned from their club, and any others within a five state radius, but

they also ultimately aided the police in capturing and prosecuting him for the deaths of two

prostitutes whom he had beaten to death.

Despite vowing to never again explore anything even hinting at BDSM, Mara eventually

overcame her fears and fell madly in love with Joshua. Not only did he make her feel safe and

cherished, but he helped her understand her need for what the lifestyle had to offer, and validated

her original belief—that when it is done correctly, being a submissive to a true Dominant is not

about inflicting and receiving pain, but about being gifted with the freedom to trust that your

partner loves you, and that everything he does is with your safety and best interests in mind.

Mara turned to Brad once she had pulled the final two packages from the shelves. She

wanted to be facing him when they had this discussion so she could try to determine his state of

mind—both about the girl, and what she had ordered. His expression, however, was unreadable,

so she simply proceeded to say what was on her mind, effectively putting the ball in his court, so

he could lead from there, if he chose.

"Brad, I'm not sure what Kylie's situation is, but it sounds like she needs what she came

in for today. As in; this is not a preference thing for her. And from what she's told me, she

doesn't seem to have anyone looking out for her. She seems like an especially vulnerable girl,

who might well be having some problems. You know it's not like me to interfere with someone's

personal life, but I just don't feel good about letting her leave here today, at least not without

being sure that she is going to be okay."

Encouraged by his nod for her to continue, she briefly related what she'd gleaned from

her discussion with the teen, and told him what she'd discovered when checking Kylie's ID.

Regardless of his intentions, it wouldn't hurt to bring him up to speed on the basics, and

potentially provide some reassurance if he had any concerns about whether or not the girl was of

legal age. She then went on to explain how and why their delivery service was, in this case at

least, going to extend to being a livery service.

Brad quietly absorbed the information. "I hope it doesn't set her off," he said, "but I'd like

to be the one to take her home. I'll check out her situation, and then we can decide if there is

anything more we can do."

Mara, being the smart woman she was, did not disagree. "Well, I'll just get these bagged

up and let Kylie know you are going to be her chauffer this afternoon. Pausing for a moment, she

made sure she had his complete attention before continuing. "But Brad, if she is really not

comfortable with it, I hope you are okay with me taking her instead. I just don't want to let her

leave without being certain her living situation and everything are what they should be."

Once Mara had returned to the front of the store and explained that Brad would like to

drive her home, Kylie's nervousness returned immediately.

Mara, reading her expression, was quick to set her mind at ease. "Kylie, I realize you

don't know either of us well, or really at all, but please be assured that Brad is not only my boss,

and the owner of this shop, but he is one of the most honorable and kind men I know. Truly, you

could not find yourself in safer hands."

Feeling as though she ought to go along with the plan, Kylie nodded her assent. "Thank

you again, ma'am. I'm so sorry for being such a bother, but I really appreciate how nice and

understanding you've been. I'm not good at this," she said, making a sweeping gesture with her

hands in an attempt to indicate dealing with issues related to handling the business related to her

personal needs, "but you've been really great."

Waving off the second part of her speech, Mara made it a point to assure her that Brad

was more than happy to drive her. "It's not an imposition at all. He would have been passing the

general area anyway, and you'll be good company for him on the way. "

Kylie cringed inwardly at the thought. Better to pay forty dollars for a cab ride and lug

home her packages herself, than to be counted on for witty conversation with a man who looked

like he could eat someone her size for breakfast and still be hungry for more. She had no idea

what she'd say to the stern-faced man once they were alone together, but she hoped she would

make a better impression than she had so far.

She found him somewhat intimidating and scary. Well, perhaps not exactly scary, since

she knew she was not actually frightened of him, per se. She was thinking more about the

unsettled and unfamiliar feelings she had been having around him.

Kylie always felt small, but when Brad had joined the women at the front of the store,

she'd felt more than small—she felt miniscule. It wasn't as though she hadn't already realized he

was quite tall, but when she was actually standing right beside Brad, she became entirely aware

of the disparity in size between them. Her line of sight was just barely above the level of his

belt—and very close to other things that are close to the waist.

Kylie could not believe she had even had that thought, and once it was there, she had to

force herself to keep from allowing her eyes to venture to the front of his pants, trying to

determine whether the whole big hands and feet adage had any basis in fact. Of course she'd

never actually seen a man's thingy before, since she'd never actually been in close proximity to

any naked men.

Honestly, until today, she'd never even seriously speculated about the penis size of any

guy she'd known or seen. But she had read some steamy books on her Kindle, so she figured she

had a general idea of how big they were supposed to be, and his feet were way bigger than that.

Size aside, even with her vivid imagination, she could never have conjured up a specimen like

him from mere written words.

Having been home-schooled, and extremely sheltered throughout her childhood, Kylie's

only interaction with boys had been during well-chaperoned field trips, taken with other home-

schooled children in her district. None of those boys had even come close to attracting her in the

way she was feeling about Brad, and never before had she felt this strange tingling in her lower

regions, and an all-encompassing, almost breathless anticipation.

Her emotions were still so close to the surface that she didn't feel at all like her normal

self. Kylie was overcome with the desire to simultaneously laugh, cry, and… well, she did not

know what came after the 'and', but she felt as though part of her was trying to get out of her

body—a part of her that would wrap itself around Brad's firm large torso, and perhaps climb him

like a tree. She wanted to run her hands through his glossy black hair to see if it felt silky, like

her own, or if it was rougher and coarse, like her dad's had been. She had the oddest impulse to

press her lips against his, and feel the firm pressure of his mouth as he returned her kiss. Kylie

wondered whether his lips would be as hard as they looked, or if they would be soft and smooth.

Never having actually kissed anyone on the lips before, she wasn't certain how it would compare

with the brief cheek buzzes that she had exchanged with family and close friends, but for the first

time in her life, she longed to find out.

Realizing that she had once more zoned out for a moment of Brad-inspired reflection,

Kylie quickly stood up, straightened her dress, and smoothed down her wild riot of curls as best

she could with just her fingers and the palms of her hands. She hoped that no one had noticed

that she had been having an 'in body' experience while she sat waiting. They probably already

thought she was odd, so she'd rather not do anything else that would convince them she was any

more of a wreck than she really was.

Chapter Three

When it was time to leave, Brad allowed the women an additional moment or two to

exchange goodbyes—just enough time for Kylie to again express her thanks to Mara for her

kindness and help, and for Mara to enter her personal cell number onto Kylie's phone, with a

request that the girl promise to call her if she needed anything.

Brad must have already put her purchases into his truck, because his hands were empty

and he used them to usher her out. He had one resting on her back, and the other clasped gently

on her shoulder; steering her as though she might get lost between the front of the store and the

back door.

That thought caused her to giggle a little, the imp in her imagining playing hide and seek

with him among the tall stacks of boxes that filled the back room as they passed through it.

At the sound of her barely escaped laugh, Brad leaned over and looked down at her.

Though it had sounded more like mirth, he wanted to see her face and be certain that she wasn't

upset or getting ready to cry again. Scanning his eyes over her face briefly, he took in the thick

lashes sweeping over the tops of her cheeks like little fans, and noted the small crooked smile

that touched her lips. With no clue as to what had caused her to be amused, he was just thankful

she looked happy, rather than like she was being led to slaughter. He knew his large size and

intimidating nature could reasonably have frightened her too much to want to leave the store

with him, but that did not seem to be an issue.

Once outside, Kylie could see that, like the man himself, his truck was larger than

average. Glancing up, she couldn't imagine how she was going to be able to even get onto the

foot-rail without pulling herself up to first kneel, and then stand on it. Fortunately, or

unfortunately, depending on one's preference for being moved around without warning, Kylie

did not have long to contemplate how she was going to climb into the truck, because she was

suddenly moving through the air and sitting on the high seat—her back up against the cool

leather and her legs stretched out in front of her. After Brad secured her safety belt, she was

surprised that, rather than shutting the door and taking his spot behind the wheel, he was still

standing beside her.

Looking down at her, as though in deep consideration, he unexpectedly asked her, "Kylie,

how tall are you, sweetheart?"

She had to think for a moment, given that the question was so out of the blue. "I'm four

and a half feet tall. Um, four feet, five and a half inches," she amended, seeing his slight scowl at

her answer.

She needn't have worried that he was concerned about the accuracy of her measurements,

because as it turned out he was not questioning her one half inch discrepancy, but rather

contemplating the advisability of having her seated in the front of the vehicle, which had front

and side air bags.

Unbuckling her seat belt, and again lifting her without so much as a word, he held her

cradled in one arm. With his upper arm supporting her back, forearm curling along her side, and

hand cupping one half of her bottom and part of her thigh, he opened the rear door and managed

to quickly and efficiently re-situate her in the middle of the back seat, in what seemed like the

blink of an eye.

Finding herself re-seated in the middle of the back seat, and again buckled in, Kylie was

inwardly fuming over the fact that he was treating her like a small child. She was somewhat

offended that Brad had taken the liberty of moving her around like he had every right. Then,

adding insult to injury, he did not even allow her to choose a seat by the window, or to fasten her

own safety belt. It had all happened so quickly, she had not had time to voice her objections, and

by the time she could bring words to the surface, Brad had already closed the door, seated

himself, and had the engine of the truck rumbling and ready to go.

Referring to the paper Mara had given him from their delivery file, Brad took a moment

to enter Kylie's address into his GPS, before taking a quick look in the rear-view mirror to check

on his passenger.

Given that she'd been giggling just moments before, he was surprised to see a decidedly

unhappy look on her little face. The range of emotions she had gone through since the time they

had met her that morning notwithstanding, Kylie seemed to be a sweet girl, whose natural

expressions would be reflective of happiness or serenity. So the pouting lip and narrowed eyes

somehow seemed out of character for her.

Concerned she may be uncomfortable in the seat, he twisted around, intending to ask her

if she needed the seat belt adjusted, or if there was another problem. Just as he began to speak

though, she let loose with an angry growl.

Her little fists clenched, and her whole body seemed to stiffen before she let him know, in

no uncertain terms, exactly what had caused her to become upset. "I know I'm small, but I am an

adult, and I don't like being treated like a baby or picked up and moved around like a doll," she

said, in her firmest voice.

Brad had to turn his head and bite down on his cheek to keep from losing it. He could tell

she was truly upset, and did not want to compound her frustration by laughing and making it

appear that he was making light of her distress. Regardless, it was hard not to see the irony in the

words coming out of this tiny person, who looked so much like a little doll.

Ordinarily, he would have been slightly irritated to be taken to task for expediently

handling matters in the way he felt best, but he found instead that he was more struck with a

fleeting feeling of pride in her.

Though she was only a fraction of his size, and seemed too timid to stand up for herself,

she had actually growled at him and tried to tell him off. Admittedly, even when angry, her soft

childish voice did not come across as any more threatening than a kitten's hiss, but he had to

admire her spunk. It was the first glimpse she had given of her ability to speak up and assert her

independence, and that was something he had to have some measure of admiration for.

Once he had himself fully in control, Brad turned to face her. "Kylie, I am sorry if I made

you feel like I don't see you as the adult you are."

Surprisingly, given that he rarely felt the need to explain himself, he went on to briefly

tell her his reasoning for moving her, and let her know that he had mostly been concerned about

where the air bags would hit her if they were to inflate. He finished by stating, "My only concern

was for your safety, and that will always be the priority. I know you may not like some of the

restrictions your small size makes necessary, honey, but those are the kinds of things everyone

has to deal with."

Watching her face to see how she was receiving his apology, it was obvious that her

anger had already deflated, and if the tell-tale red spots on her cheekbones were any indicator,

she was now feeling embarrassed over her outburst.

"Sweetheart, you might think it's just you, but everyone has their limitations, even me,

because sometimes I am just too big. When I fly on a plane, I have to purchase a seat in first

class or I won't fit. I can't drive a sports car because they're not made for people my size. I have

to special order my clothes, and my bed had to be custom made, all because I'm too tall for the

ones they usually have in the store. So you see, I have the same problem you do—it's just that I

am too large, not too small."

Having done his best to try and diffuse the situation, but getting no response from the

young girl, Brad turned back around, shifted the truck into drive, and began heading in the

direction shown on his GPS. As he drove, Brad frequently glanced back at Kylie through the

rear-view mirror, and could not help but notice that she seemed to be looking even more sad and

dejected as they traveled. It was clear that her anger had not only completely dissipated, but that

she'd gone from being indignant to becoming fully occupied in her own mind. From the forlorn

expression on her face, it was a good bet that those thoughts were anything but good for her self-

esteem.

Though it wasn't generally in his nature to leave things unresolved, Brad also wasn't one

to beat a dead horse. Given Kylie's current lack of animation, it seemed somewhat likely that any

further discussion on the topic was all but guaranteed to fall on deaf ears; especially if he could

not get her to engage in the conversation, or to let go of the negative and self-recriminating

thoughts that were apparently running though her mind.

Kylie had already been pretty ashamed of how she'd spoken to Brad, but now it was

compounded because of the kind way he had responded to her outburst. She knew she should

just have kept her mouth shut. If she had been behaving maturely, she would have simply been

thankful that he was giving her a ride home, not looking for insult where none was intended.

After all, if he'd really wanted to be mean, he could have brought up her reason for being in the

store today—which would definitely have been more than enough to prove that she did not

deserve to be treated like an adult.

She was just like a baby; not able to tell when she needed to pee—just leaking all the

time, like a stupid little infant. She had no misconceptions about the possibility that he may have

missed feeling her big diaper when he was cupping her bottom earlier, and she had to admit that

it was this fact, as much as the shock of being moved around without warning, that had caused

her emotions to spike into a mix of outrage and anger.

Barely aware that the truck was even moving, Kylie was abruptly pulled out of her

musings by her tummy's angry grumbling. Brad had stopped at a red light, and the scent of a

street vendor's food wafting in through the window was apparently all it took to remind Kylie's

stomach that she needed to eat. Since Brad had not turned on the radio, the car was pretty quiet,

so there was no way he hadn't heard the sound.

Having also been affected by the smell of food, Brad realized that he had skipped lunch

and was actually pretty hungry himself. Deciding to take care of two problems at once—getting

some much needed food, and trying to resolve things with Kylie before taking her home—he

turned off a couple of blocks later, and headed to a favorite Mexican food restaurant that wasn't

too far out of his way.

Unfamiliar with the downtown area, and unused to paying attention to directions since

she had never driven herself, Kylie was unaware of the change of plans, and was instead just

looking forward to getting home and crawling into her bed… to cry and sleep for the next twenty

years.

She was surprised when the truck came to a stop and Brad turned off the engine. She did

not think she had been zoned out enough to have missed what should have been about a fifteen

minute drive, to her home. As soon as she looked out the window however, it was something of a

shock to see that they were not at her house, but in a large parking area outside of a Hacienda

inspired restaurant instead.

In the brief time it took for her become fully aware of her surroundings, Brad had exited

the vehicle and already unbuckled her from her seat, and his hands were reaching to position

themselves behind her back and under her thighs.

Kylie realized that he was going to move her yet again, apparently without planning to

first pay her the courtesy of asking if she needed assistance. In retaliation, she immediately

began slapping away his hands and arms, in an effort to prevent him from grabbing a hold of her.

"Stop, don't touch me. I don't like this. I can move by myself. I'm not a baby. Leave me

alone!" she yelled.

At the look in her stormy gray eyes, Brad finally realized how his actions had been

perceived. In deference to her demands, he pulled back and raised both hands in supplication.

Speaking kindly but firmly, much as he would to a child or frightened animal, he said, "Kylie,

settle down, sweetheart. I understand you're upset, but we don't hit. I realize I should have told

you I was going to lift you down out of the truck, but I'm more used to doing than explaining,

and it didn't occur to me to tell you I was going to help you down. But that is no reason for you

to hit me or scream." He could see that he had caught her attention, and, keeping his gaze

steadily connected with her stormy gray glare, he warned her, "I can assure you, young lady, the

next time you decide to act like that, I will be turning you over my knee and giving you a

spanking on your little bare behind."

Watching her face intently, he saw the myriad of emotions pass across her expressive

face, until eventually she sat facing him, obviously uncertain, and a little shocked—both at his

words, and her own behavior.

Kylie did not understand it, she should be punching him in his big face, but instead, she

was a big ball of shame and arousal. While his threatening words caused her some measure of

fright, that same tingling she'd been experiencing since she first saw Brad made a reappearance,

making her wonder why she would be feeling like that at such an inappropriate time. Yes, she

thought he was hot, but right now, his hotness was way less evident than his bossiness or

arrogance, and she should still be livid with him, not turning into a pile of goo after he rudely

issued orders and threats.

Suddenly, she felt a gush of moisture down below, one that had nothing to do with her

weak and uncontrolled bladder, but a wetness that seemed to come from inside her, kind of like

when her period would first start, but not. She was pretty sure she wasn't starting her cycle

though, because on the rare occasions she did, each episode was preceded by a great deal of

discomfort and cramping, which she hadn't recently experienced at all.

Brad continued to monitor Kylie's mood through the expressions moving across her

delicate features. First, the angry narrowed eyes and pursed little lips, which morphed into a

gaping mouth, and wide-eyed look of amazed shock once his words reached her brain, to a

wrinkled nose and renewed narrowing of her eyes—all of which, he figured, were caused by her

assessment of her own actions and his warning. Her final expression was so pitiful, that she

reminded him of a cute little puppy who'd been chastised by his master for piddling on the rug.

Leaning back a little, his elbows still resting on the seat, Brad asked, "Kylie, are you okay

now?" At her slight nod, he continued. "All right, sweetheart, now I'm going to lift you out of the

car, or if you want, you can scootch over to the side here, and I'll help you down." From what

he'd observed about her so far, it wasn't hard to guess which option she would choose, and he

began to move back from the seat, anticipating that she'd need to assert her independence by

doing as much as possible to get herself out of the huge truck.

Warily eying him as she went, Kylie slowly inched herself across the seat, toward the

open door where Brad stood waiting for her. She had to move slowly, because she did not want

her skirt to move and expose her damp diaper, which, after the gush of dampness she'd just

experienced, was sure to be sporting its dark blue strip down the middle.

As she reached the edge of the seat, it finally dawned on Kylie that she had not asked

where they were. Clearly they were not at her house, and while he did not seem to be type of

person to abandon her in an unfamiliar place, she could not help but be a little apprehensive.

Perhaps Brad was now so tired of her and her bratty behavior, that he was going to just drop her

off here, leaving her to hold onto her bulky diaper packages, and call for a taxi.

Seeing that she looked somewhat anxious, and correctly deducing at least part of the

cause, Brad spoke. "I haven't eaten anything since early this morning, and from the sounds of

your tummy, you are probably a little hungry too. I figured since we are so close, we'd stop at

one of my favorite restaurants, and grab some lunch before I drop you off. Do you like Mexican

food, Kylie?" Upon seeing her nod of agreement, and the fleeting half-smile crossing her face,

Brad gestured that he was waiting for her permission to be lifted down from the truck.

Understanding his unspoken request, Kylie responded by grasping onto his forearms,

allowing him to encircle her waist with his large hands, and swing her to the ground with ease.

After holding her for a moment to assure she had her balance, Brad turned to close the

door of the truck, and set the alarm on his key fob. Pocketing his keys and turning, he noticed

that Kylie had already started walking through the parking lot, toward the restaurant, without

him.

As he called out to her, he saw her stop and stand, waiting for him to take the few steps

he would need to catch up with her. Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he saw the tell-tale

red flash of reverse lights, and his heart stopped in his throat as he watched a pickup truck right

beside her begin to back up.

The driver obviously had not seen her when he glanced back, because her head did not

clear the height of the truck's closed tailgate. Immediately sprinting toward the truck, Brad

pounded a fist on the side of the truck bed, as he leaped behind it and scooped Kylie up under

one arm, much like a football.

Fortunately, the driver of the truck had stopped as soon as he heard Brad shout, and felt

the thump coming from the end of his vehicle.

Not sure whether he had actually hit someone, the middle-aged man jumped from his

vehicle and rushed to where Brad was standing, holding a now crying and shaken-up Kylie. Her

arms and legs were wrapped around him tightly, as he gently ran his hand up and down her back

and soothed her after her fright.

Truth be told, Brad needed this moment as much as she did. Though he barely knew her,

this tiny woman had somehow started to work her way into his heart and affections, and he

instinctively knew that if she made it all the way in, he would have a hard time letting her go.

As he raised his eyes to meet those of the apologetic driver, Brad's look must have

conveyed some of the possessiveness and anger he'd felt when seeing Kylie almost get run

over—enough so, that the man backed away a few steps, apologizing profusely for not having

seen her standing behind his vehicle.

By now, a woman, presumably his wife, had come to stand behind him, commenting over

his shoulder. "See Frank, this is why you need to stop being so cheap and just get a new truck.

They all have backup cameras now, so you'd have seen the little girl, instead of almost running

her over."

Feeling Kylie tremble at the reminder of what had almost just happened, Brad just

wanted to get them away, and concentrate on calming Kylie down and ensuring she was okay.

"Your wife is right," he said. "Luckily there was no harm done today, but you should

have a backup camera, or at least side mirrors that allow you to see behind you when you're

backing up." Barely able to continue being civil, he went on, "She's fine, so you can go ahead

and go, I've got her taken care of."

Without waiting for any response, Brad turned and started back toward his own vehicle.

He needed to assess Kylie, both physically and emotionally, before determining whether they

would stay for lunch, or if he needed to just get her home as quickly as possible.

Brad reached out and lowered the tailgate on his truck. Tenderly reaching up to unclasp

her hands from around the back of his neck, he seated Kylie at the edge, with his body still

caught between her circling legs.

Instead of being able to look down at her, and evaluate her condition as he'd planned, he

found that her little hands, once removed from around his neck, had grabbed onto fistfuls of his

shirt. Her face was now buried against his chest.

Grabbing her hands yet again, Brad gently unfurled her fingers, removed them from his

shirt, and then transferred both of her smaller hands into one of his own. He used his free hand to

reach down and cup her head. In effort to gauge how she was doing, he cradled her chin with his

palm, gently pressing her head back so he could look down into her pale, tear-streaked face.

Dropping her hands, he reached up and rubbed his thumbs beneath her eyes, to remove the final

tears that were clinging to her long, thick eyelashes. As he peered intently at her pixie-like

features, he was once again struck by how unexpectedly drawn he was to her.

Playing daddy to a 'little', or shining knight to a damsel in distress, was not his usual

style. He preferred no commitment relationships, with women who were looking for nothing

more than he was; gratifying sex, mixed with a variety of bondage and dungeon play—both

parties getting what they wanted, free to pursue other partners, and to reconnect whenever the

opportunity arose.

He'd never been attracted to women who displayed any tendency to cling, his preference

for handcuffing and tying his partners up giving testament to his dislike of being clasped and

hung onto.

But with this girl, he seemed to be a different man. All of him seemed to be welcoming

and longing for the touch of her little hands, and his protective feelings were on high alert. He

could sense his mind warring with his heart's desire to hold this precious bundle, and keep her

within the circle of his arms—away from anything that might cause her harm—for the rest of

their days.

Shaking his head to rid himself of this moment of unwelcome reflection and strange

urges, he gave her another once-over, pleased to note that she was no longer crying, and her

body's tremors had ceased entirely. Again hugging her little body to his chest, he rested his cheek

on the top of her head, smelling the sweet strawberry fragrance of her shampoo. Speaking softly

in her ear, Brad said, "So, baby, do you feel up to going in and eating some lunch? I'll bet you're

still hungry, huh, little one? I know I am."

Lifting her head, Kylie was surprised by the question, figuring Brad would be more than

ready to be rid of her by this time. She was a mess. Not only had she been bratty and a big cry-

baby, but he'd been forced to risk his own safety because she was a dummy who'd stood in the

middle of the parking lot, thinking more about what it would be like to be kissing Brad, than

watching out for cars backing up.

Looking up into his expectant gaze, she realized she had not yet answered him, and after

internally assessing, she noted that she was, in fact, famished. Nodding her head, she said, "Yes,

please. Lunch sounds good."

Chapter Four

As he backed away from Kylie, Brad's movements broke the grip her legs had around his

thighs. Discomfited that she hadn't even realized how intimately she had been holding on to him,

Kylie flushed adorably, with bright flags of color highlighting the top of each cheekbone.

Recognizing her reaction for what it was, and not wanting to prolong her discomfort,

Brad reached toward her, asking if she was ready to be lifted down.

Bobbing her head eagerly, Kylie indicated she was more than ready for him to lower her

to the ground, where she could get a little space, and get her warring emotions on a more even

keel.

Unfortunately for her, the physical contact did not end with his lifting her and depositing

her to the ground. He immediately caught up one of her hands, the whole of it being swallowed

inside his giant mitt, as he led her toward the restaurant. Kylie hesitated briefly, before beginning

to trot alongside him, so she wouldn't be pulled off of her feet.

While she would have liked to have set an easier pace, and assert her independence by

pointing out she was not a child in need of her hand being held in the parking lot, she wisely

swallowed back any comment—figuring her argument wouldn't really seem valid, given what

had just taken place in this very same lot. Besides, she reasoned, walking, or running (since his

darn legs were so long) alongside Brad, she certainly would not be easy to miss if there were any

more cars getting ready to leave.

Aside from the 'not getting smashed' benefit of their connection, a part of her really liked

having some physical contact with him. Though she would have preferred that it come in the

form of the passionate kiss she been fantasizing about practically since she first saw him, the

feeling of her hand being so tightly held in his did still give her some little butterflies in her

tummy, strange and hungry little flutterings that she somehow knew had nothing to do with the

lunch they were about to have.

Once they were inside the restaurant, Brad didn't relinquish his hold on her hand until the

hostess stopped at a high-backed booth, ready to seat them. He escorted Kylie onto the smooth,

long seat, and surprised her by following along after her, rather than sitting on the opposite side,

as most people would do if there were only two people sitting at the table.

Catching her unspoken question from the corner of his eye, Brad said, "More leg room

this way. I can push the other bench back a little, which I can't do if you are sitting over there."

Contented with his answer, though perhaps secretly disappointed that he had such a

reasonable explanation, rather than his seating choice being made in order to keep himself close

to her side, Kylie made sure she was as close to the side wall as possible, ensuring he had plenty

of elbow room.

Once situated on the seat, Kylie was dismayed to discover that the table top was on a

level with her upper chest. She knew from experience that the only way she was going to be able

to eat comfortably would be if she got on her knees, or if she requested a booster seat to lift her

the extra inches she needed to allow her arms to rest above the table. Fidgeting slightly, she

decided she'd figure it out after they'd ordered.

The waitress came to the table, asking for their drink order as she delivered a basket of

chips, a bowl of salsa, and menus for them to look over. Kylie requested a coke, and Brad opted

for non-sweet tea. Despite being Texas-born and raised, Brad had not ever acquired a taste for

sweet tea. The cloying flavor of the heavily sugared and honeyed drink had never been appealing

to his palate. Passing a menu to Kylie, Brad blindly perused the menu, not really needing to look

it over. He had been here enough times to know that he'd be ordering the Mexico City Platter,

with a few extra enchiladas on the side.

As he looked down at Kylie, about to ask whether she'd decided on anything, or needed

any recommendations, Brad noticed for the first time that she wasn't going to be able to enjoy

her meal without making some adjustments to how she was seated.

Not sure how to voice his concerns, considering how sensitive she seemed to be to issues

related to her diminutive size, Brad tried to think of the best way to broach the topic without

setting her off, and potentially ruining the now calm atmosphere.

While he was running the various options through his mind, the waitress returned to take

their order. Kylie asked for one cheese enchilada with rice and guacamole. The waitress repeated

it back to her, calling it a Nina plate, and confirming her entrée and sides.

Concerned about how small the meal sounded, Brad asked her if she was sure that was all

she wanted. She assured him that it was plenty, tacking on that she just hoped she'd be able to

finish it all. Ordering his own food, he made sure his extra enchiladas were the same as Kylie's

entrée; planning to pass them her way if she appeared to still be hungry after eating her own tiny

meal.

With the distraction of the waitress's interruption into his internal conflict of how to ask

Kylie about the table arrangements, Brad came to the realization that she would almost certainly

have been in similar circumstances in the past, and likely had a plan to deal with how she would

best be able sit up to the table to consume her meal. Having temporarily resolved the seating

situation in his mind, he relaxed, and allowed himself to enjoy the peaceful atmosphere.

Not certain what discussion topics they had in common, Brad began asking her whether

she had tried this or that of the various Mexican food specialty items, discovering that Kylie

loved fajitas, was not a fan of most restaurants' tacos, and only liked enchiladas that had lots of

cheese and were covered with 'red sauce'. She confessed that her absolute favorite food was

breakfast, and she would eat all of her meals at the Kirby Lane Café if she were able. Brad,

having been there several times himself, agreed that they served some of the tastiest breakfast

food anywhere around.

Kylie wasn't surprised to discover that Brad liked pretty much every kind of food. With a

comical look of distaste, he confirmed that there very few items on his 'will not eat' list, which

included soft cereals, like cream of wheat, and a few seafood items, with crawdads topping the

list.

Laughing, they both concurred that they could do without the refried beans that every

Mexican restaurant seemed to put on the plate, even when asked them to leave them off.

As luck would have it, the waitress returned with their meals at about the same time they

were reaching the limits of their conversation about food. Though Brad had taken some of the

edge off of his hunger by partaking in the delicious chips and salsa provided as a complimentary

appetizer, the time spent waiting for their order to arrive had allowed their appetites to build, so

they were both eager to dig into their lunches.

Kylie had not yet eaten anything, due to the table height making it awkward for her to

reach the basket of crispy tortillas and bowl of dip. Brad had considerately moved the items close

to the edge of the table, but he had refrained from offering any further assistance, fearful that she

might be outraged at the suggestion she needed any help eating. But once the thought had

entered his mind, he could not help imagining how it would be to hold food up to her little

mouth, watching as her plump lips parted to take in whatever morsel he tempted her with. He

could almost feel the tip of her tongue reaching out to barely touch the tips of his fingers as he

transferred the food from his hand to her mouth.

As unobtrusively as possible, Brad glanced down sideways at Kylie as he began to

unwrap his silverware from the large cloth napkin. He was curious to see how she planned to

bring herself to a height that would allow her to comfortably reach her food and enjoy her meal.

Moving carefully, ensuring that she was holding onto the back of her dress with one

hand, and supporting herself on the table top with her other hand, Kylie shifted her body to her

knees and knelt up on the bench seat; the added height allowing her elbows to just have

clearance over the top of the table.

Reaching for her drink, she took several long pulls on the straw. She had not realized how

thirsty she was, but once she took her first swallow, she felt like she could drink the whole glass

and still want more.

Once she'd drained about a third of its contents, she carefully set aside the glass, aware

that overindulging in liquids could be disastrous for her, especially considering that she had

drunk more than half the bottle of water Mara had given her earlier. It was now more than two

hours past when she normally had her first diaper change, and while it did not feel like her diaper

was overly heavy, and she was fairly certain it could absorb more than what it currently held,

Kylie did not want to press her luck and risk having a leak. Or, perhaps worse, have to ask Brad

to open one of the packages she had just purchased, so she could visit the ladies' room and

change herself.

Kylie slowly began removing her silverware from the large cloth napkin, leaning her

chest against the edge of the table for balance, and trying to make certain the edges of the

unfurling cloth did not dip into the deep red sauce covering the primary portion of her plate.

Unfortunately, the booth's rounded seat cushion had her perched on something of an

irregular slope, raised where she was kneeling, and then gradually dipping down toward the

center, no doubt due to the many people who had sat in these seats before.

Looking first at Kylie, and then discreetly below the table top where her knees rested on

the edge of the seat, Brad could see the predicament she was in. Because of the worn condition

of the bench seat, she was left with only two unappealing ways of balancing on her knees, while

trying to eat her meal.

The first option required her to lean her upper body against the table in order to maintain

her balance, and forced her to be virtually on top of her plate; whereas the other option would be

to move back on the seat, allowing her feet to brace on the back cushion, and causing her to

either slide into the seat's worn depression, or hold her weight forward using the pressure of her

feet. Considering that neither of these two positions seemed optimal, Brad decided to bite the

bullet, hoping that she would not react negatively to the suggestion he was about to make.

"Kylie, sweetheart, it looks like this place could use some new seats. I know you can

probably make do like you are, but if you want, I can go grab a booster for you, so you don't

have to try and balance like that through the whole meal. I'm sure you'd enjoy it more if you can

just sit and relax."

Glancing back up at him, she shamefacedly nodded, and whispered, "Yes, please."

Watching Brad rise from the table and head to the side wall, where a stack of boosters

and several high chairs resided, Kylie lamented her stubbornness in not having just asked for the

booster in the first place. Though she only infrequently dined in restaurants, she had found that

the added height from the booster was often useful, and normally she was able to maturely

accept the fact that she needed it, and not allow it to negatively invade her headspace.

But this was different; she was here with the most gorgeous man she had ever personally

laid eyes on. Not only was he super handsome and sophisticated, but he'd really been talking to

her, acting as though he was interested in getting to know her, and even sharing details about

himself—like people did on a date. She realized that this was not really a date, but it was the

closest thing to one that she'd ever been on, and she hated to destroy the illusion by reminding

him how horribly unsuited she would be for him as a potential girlfriend.

Knowing in her heart that it was childish and unrealistic to be reading more into his polite

conversation and gentlemanly attentiveness than was warranted, she raised her head and pasted

on a bright smile for Brad as he returned to the table.

When Brad got back to the booth, he was surprised to see Kylie appearing to be in such

good spirits. He'd feared that having to use a booster could potentially be difficult for her self-

esteem, and ruin the pleasant time they'd been having. It was a relief to see that she seemed to be

accepting of the situation, and that there wouldn't be any pouting or tantrums.

"So, how do you want to do this, Kylie? I can set the seat down and then lift you into it,

or hold I can it while you climb in—your choice."

She mulled over the options for a moment, knowing her primary concern would be

keeping her dress down, not wanting to risk flashing her diaper at either Brad, or a roomful of

other diners. "I think having you put me on it will be easiest, if you don't mind."

Once he had her consent, Brad wasted no time in gently scooping her up—making certain

he slipped his arm fully beneath her bottom, including solicitously capturing the skirt of her dress

against the backs of her thighs—as he easily tipped her and slid her onto the seat with a

minimum of fuss. Sliding back into his own seat, he placed his napkin back on his lap, and

resumed eating as though the whole process was perfectly ordinary.

After a moment of nervously looking around to see if anyone had noticed the interchange

taking place at their table, and not seeing any curious eyes glancing in her direction, Kylie too,

smoothed out her napkin across her lap, and, taking silverware in hand, began to cut into her

tasty looking lunch.

By now, she was truly starved, having reached the stage where her need for sustenance

was bordering on nausea, so she wasted no time in bringing a forkful of delicious enchilada

topped with guacamole to her watering mouth. It was like ambrosia hitting her tongue. It had

been a while since she'd actually felt much like eating, so this mouthful of food seemed like the

best thing she'd ever had. Moaning softly as she chewed, she did not notice that her actions and

sounds had caught the attention of her tablemate.

Brad, upon hearing her soft moan, was instantly aroused. It was as though her voice and

his dick were intimately connected. Discreetly adjusting himself in the seat, he found himself

more intent on watching Kylie consume her meal, than on what he was actually eating.

As he mechanically transferred food from the plate to his mouth, his focus was entirely

on the dainty girl carefully cutting each bite of enchilada, swiping it through the guacamole, and

then placing it between her naturally pink and sensuously formed lips.

Though he could not specifically spell out why, there was something almost sexual about

the way she ate. Captivated, he watched as each tiny bite was followed by either the appearance

of her cute little tongue, capturing any wayward sauces, or a gentle dabbing of the napkin across

the surface of her mouth.

They lingered over the meal, sitting for a while after they'd finished, just talking about

different places in Austin that they both enjoyed, and other things they did and didn't have in

common.

After the waitress had come by several times to check on them, Brad ordered them a

bowl of cinnamon ice cream to share, so that they could linger a little while longer. Though she'd

said she was too full, Kylie did not refuse any of the bites Brad brought to her lips.

If anyone had asked her before, Kylie would have said that she thought that being fed by

someone else would seem babyish and not something she'd enjoy—but with Brad, it was

anything but. Every bite was almost like a naughty bit of foreplay.

Watching his face, as he related a funny camping trip story about Mara and her husband,

Joshua, who was also Brad's best friend, Kylie was struck anew with how masculine and

interesting Brad's face was. She could barely stand to tear her eyes away from his, but

occasionally forced herself to look down or away so her perusal would not be overly obvious.

She was pretty sure the attraction was only one sided, and she did not want to embarrass herself

any more than she already had today. Putting her heart on her sleeve for this hunky mountain of

a man would be pure foolishness, and she also did not want to make him uncomfortable. In the

back of her mind, she had hopes that somehow, after today, perhaps they might be kind of like

friends. From some of stories Brad had recounted, it was clear that he and Mara's husband

Joshua were best friends, and that they all spent quite a bit of their free time together. If she

stayed in touch with Mara like she had promised, she figured she might have the odd occasion to

see Brad again, or at least to hear about him.

Chapter Five

Lost in her dreamy perusal of Brad as he took out his wallet to settle the check, Kylie

barely noticed that she had started yawning, and that her eyes had lost much of their sharp

brightness.

Over the past fifteen minutes or so, Brad had detected that Kylie seemed to have lost

much of her animation, and looked like she was ready to drop. The faint purple bruising he'd

noticed under her eyes was now more pronounced, reminding him that this had already been a

long and emotional day for her. Taking her physical cues as clear, albeit unwelcome, signs that it

was time he got her home, he signaled for the waitress so he could take care of their bill.

Putting down enough cash to cover the check, and a generous tip to make up for the time

they tied up the table, he rose from the seat and leaned over toward Kylie. "Sweetheart, I'm going

to turn the chair so you can stand up on the seat, and then I'll lift you down, okay?"

At her shy nod, Brad proceeded to shift the chair so Kylie's legs were facing him.

Looking down at her, he discovered that her skirt had risen to the tops of her thighs as she'd

moved around in the seat, and that he now had a very clear view of the diaper that was keeping

her thighs spread at the apex of her legs.

In the hope of preventing her from realizing what had been exposed, Brad quickly

grabbed hold of her hands and pulled her upright from the chair in one easy move. He then

placed his hands around her tiny waist and lifted her to the floor, unobtrusively sliding his hands

downward as they left her waist, and effectively smoothing down her skirt. Once assured she had

her balance, he immediately captured her hand, intending to keep control of it until they reached

the truck—much as he had done on their way in.

A few steps outside the door, Brad felt a slight resistance in Kylie's hand and arm.

Wondering if she was trying to stop for some reason, he looked down, and was surprised to see

that she was practically running and jumping beside him. Though she was doing her best to keep

up, her short legs, compromised by the now substantially wetter, and therefore bulkier, diaper

between her legs, had left her unable to match the pace of his longer strides.

"Oh Kylie, I am so sorry, darlin'. I didn't mean to run you off your feet. Here, you set the

pace, and I'll follow along this time." Gently leading her forward, he positioned her slightly

ahead and to one side of him.

Feeling intimidated by the thought that Brad may be watching her walk, and seeing her

bottom waggle with the waddle her diaper caused, she tried to take the longest strides possible.

With her first step, she was reminded that the audible side of her predicament was not as

easily disguised. Used to wearing diapers, she rarely noticed their crunching whisper. However,

at this moment, with each agonizing step, it sounded much louder than normal, and she couldn't

help but agonize over what Brad must be thinking as she practically snapped and crackled along

beside him.

She reminded herself again that not only was he not romantically inclined toward her, but

it was also pretty much a certainty that Brad was already aware that she had to wear diapers.

Unfortunately, that fact was of little consolation, because regardless of what he knew or didn't

know, she'd prefer it be less obvious that she was wearing one right now.

Reaching the truck, Brad clicked the remote to unlock the doors, and proceeded to open

the back passenger door. After gaining her nod of acceptance, he quickly got her seated and

belted in.

Giving her a smile, he climbed into the front seat, and, after pulling up the last address in

the GPS, he merged into traffic.

Not wanting to have another silent road trip, Kylie decided to try and keep Brad talking

as long as she could. Willing herself to burn the sound of his voice into her memory so she could

hold onto this special afternoon for the rest of her life, Kylie threw out a question to him, hoping

that she could get them back into the same easy repartee they'd enjoyed in the restaurant.

Responding to her inquiry, Brad began telling Kylie about the best place he had ever

gone camping; recounting the beauty of the lake, the size of the fish, and the hiking trails around

the area. Pausing in his narrative, he asked her which of the many parks in the Hill Country area

she might have visited. Glancing back in the rear-view mirror to make brief eye contact as he

awaited her reply, Brad was only mildly surprised to see that his small passenger was not going

to be answering him anytime soon—she had actually fallen asleep.

Chuckling to himself, Brad had to wonder if his story had been so boring it had put her to

sleep. Taking a glance at the GPS, he noted that they would be arriving at Kylie's house in less

than ten minutes, so he decided to just let her nap until they got there.

It wasn't long before Brad entered into a nice upscale neighborhood, and maneuvered his

way to her address. Pulling into the circular drive, he parked outside of the walkway that led to

the front door.

Looking back at Kylie as he shut off the engine, he noted that the change in motion had

jarred her awake, and she was sleepily looking around, as if unsure where she was.

"Kylie, sweetheart, we're here. You're home, honey." With that, he exited the vehicle and

proceeded to open up the back door to assist her in getting out. Leaning in, he undid her safety

belt and moved backward, waiting for her to indicate she was ready for him to lift her up and out

of the truck.

Rubbing her eyes sleepily, Kylie sheepishly grinned at him, apologizing for falling asleep

on the way. He assured her it was no problem, and on her confirmation that she was ready to be

moved, he lifted her and set her onto the driveway.

Digging through her purse, Kylie searched for her house key. Flustered, and not wanting

to inconvenience Brad any further, she tried to hurry as much as possible. Finally pulling out her

keychain, she walked to the door, unlocked it and opened it wide.

In the meantime, Brad had opened the toolbox storage in the back of his truck to retrieve

Kylie's packages, and had walked up behind her just as she opened the door.

Turning around quickly, as she began to call out to him, Kylie instead ran right into him,

not realizing he was already behind her. Taking a moment to re-balance herself using a fistful of

his shirt, she then immediately began apologizing and backing away. Cutting short her apology,

he confirmed that she was okay, assuring her the collision was more his fault than hers, since he

should have let her know he had come up behind her.

Now that she was more awake, Kylie realized she had a somewhat urgent need for a

change, and it needed to be taken care of pretty quickly. Unfortunately, while dozing in the truck,

she had obviously peed some more and her diaper was dangerously overtaxed, and would likely

begin to leak if any added pressure were put on it. Confirming she had not yet reached that point

by discreetly patting the back of her dress, she set about getting Brad out and on his way.

"I am so sorry, I didn't know you were right there. Um, if you want, you can just set those

here," she said, making a sweeping hand gesture between a small bench in the entry and the

packages he held in his hands.

Brad, not realizing that there was any problem, entered the house behind her, and with a

nod toward the curved staircase, said, "No worries. These are pretty heavy, so why don't you just

show me where they go, and I'll carry them up for you."

Kylie was torn. While she did not want to be rude, she was concerned about the timing of

getting all the way upstairs and then back down to see Brad out, before she took care of business.

She had planned to have him just dump the packages inside the door, and as soon as he departed,

she figured she'd quickly rip open one of the packages and get herself changed, as soon as

possible.

Unable to quickly conceive of a way to explain why she wanted him to just dump the

diapers and leave, she decided she would just need to hope for the best, and she began walking

up the stairs, with him right behind her.

As they went up, Brad was taking in the house for the first time. While the areas he could

see were not entirely empty, the place certainly looked more sparse than lived in. As he

continued to look around, he noticed that there were impressions in the carpet where other

furniture items had obviously been, and he was left to wonder at the circumstances.

Reaching the top of the stairs, Kylie gestured toward one of the several open doors along

the hall, and stood to the side of the doorway, clearly indicating they had reached their

destination.

Brad entered the room, immediately taking note that, unlike the other portions of the

house he had seen, this room was fully furnished—the décor and primary furnishings making it

clear that this was the room of a young woman or a teenage girl.

A high, four-poster bed, covered with a light-colored comforter, and many pastel-colored

throw pillows, dominated the space to one side of the room; and on the opposite side was a small

chaise longue. The corresponding corner held a small computer desk, and a bookshelf. Across

from the bed was a high chest of drawers, alongside a long dresser with what appeared to be a

padded top. The walls were covered with an eclectic mix of artwork, including two expensively

framed Monet and Andy Warhol prints, as well as a large Happy Bunny calendar, and a couple

of Happy Bunny posters.

Kylie shyly watched Brad as he perused her living space. By now, her anxiety was so

elevated that she felt uncomfortably warm; flushed from the internal heat that had spread through

her neck and across her upper chest.

Hating to end her time with Brad, but wanting to bring closure to her confusing mix of

emotions, she walked to the long dresser and indicated that the packages should be deposited

there, hoping he would dump them quickly so she could get him back downstairs and out the

door before her situation became dire.

Walking to the dresser to set down the pull-ups and diapers where she had indicated,

Brad realized that it was actually more of a changing table, apparently designed to hold someone

a little larger than a small child or toddler. Though already aware of her issues, he was still

somewhat surprised at seeing this obvious reminder of her incontinence problems.

Trying to keep his expression and tone neutral in the face of Kylie's obvious and acute

embarrassment, he set the packages down on the surface of the table and turned back toward her,

intending to make his goodbyes and take his leave. However, as soon as he turned, he noticed

that something had changed, and Kylie was now standing in front of him, silently sobbing, with

her body hunched over, legs crossed, and her hands urgently gripping her dress and lower

abdomen.

Not sure what was going on, Brad quickly went to her and grabbed her shoulders, pulling

her toward him. At this, she immediately brought her hands up, and began shoving at his

stomach, trying to put distance between them.

Taking her chin in one hand, he tilted her face up toward him. "What's the matter,

sweetheart? Are you hurt?"

By this time, Kylie was crying inconsolably, and could not formulate the words to tell

him that she just needed to be alone. The unthinkable had happened, and she was now standing

in front of a gorgeous man with a leaky diaper under her damp dress, pee running in small

rivulets down her legs and onto her sandal-covered feet.

Concerned that she was so upset she was unable to even articulate what was wrong, Brad

crouched down in front of her, his eyes scanning across her person and ultimately zoning in on

the very damp patch of material across the front of her dress, where she had pressed the material

against herself in an effort to stem the tide of urine that had been released into her already

saturated diaper.

Though he did not want to upset her any further, Brad wasn't about to just leave her like

this, wallowing in her misery, so without attempting to comfort her through this uncomfortable

situation, he set about taking control, and getting her squared away.

Turning back to the table, he cleared the packages onto the floor after ripping open one of

them and removing one of the small, thick diapers, which he placed it off to the side. He then

returned to Kylie, who, with her eyes closed and fingers clenched around one another, had not

yet moved, but was instead standing as if frozen to the spot.

Remembering her aversion to being moved without warning or consent, Brad reached

toward her. "It's all right, sweetheart. Let's just get you up here and cleaned up," he said, as he

lifted her to the top of the table.

Setting her down, he pulled the bottom of her dress upwards and over her head,

instructing her to raise her arms so he could slip the garment from her body.

Once he had her dress removed, he pressed gently on her shoulders until she was fully

reclined on the table.

Lying stiffly, with her eyes squeezed shut and hands fisted across her stomach, Kylie did

not utter a sound, her only movement being the shuddering breaths running through her torso,

and the silent tears streaming from the outside corners of her eyes.

Opening the cabinet below the table, Brad was glad to find all of the necessities for

cleaning her up and preparing her for a change. Taking the wipes, powder and diaper cream,

Brad set them near the top of the table, above where Kylie's head was resting.

Moving himself to stand at the foot of the table, where he would be able to maneuver,

Brad prepared to change Kylie's overly sodden diaper. No stranger to the process, having lent a

hand at family gatherings to change various family members' offspring, he grabbed Kylie's

thighs and gently spread them apart. He then undid the tapes at her sides and lowered the front of

the diaper, baring her womanhood to his view.

Because he'd embarked on this course of action in something akin to a caregiver mode,

he had not mentally prepared himself for the fact that he was going to be changing the diaper of a

woman, rather than of a child. He hadn't expected to feel the sudden pang of desire that

immediately made his cock rise to attention. Just seeing her plump feminine lips, devoid of any

pubic hair, was enough to make him wish for a free hand with which to adjust himself within the

tight constriction of his jeans.

With the stress of trying to consciously shut off that part of his mind showing a little in

his face, Brad grabbed the new diaper and unfolded it, taking an extra moment to stretch the

ruffled portion that would form the leg bands. Setting it aside, he then grabbed both of Kylie's

ankles in one hand and, gingerly applying a minimal amount of pressure, pushed her knees to a

bent position, effectively pressing her legs back up toward her chest and lifting her bottom off

the table—giving him room to remove the wet diaper and install the new one beneath her cute,

rounded posterior.

Opening the wipes, Brad grabbed one of the moist cloths, swiping it across her bottom

and the backs of her upper thighs, before allowing her legs to lie back down on the table. He then

wasted no time in removing her sandals and taking wipes to her feet, legs, and general diaper

area, making certain to remove all traces of the urine, avoiding only the direct area of her sex.

Unable to help but feel somewhat guilty for the lust raging in his loins, Brad could not go

any further without first fully assessing how she was faring under his ministrations. He couldn't

abide the idea that she might feel that he was molesting her in any way, so if she appeared at all

uncomfortable, he'd give her the wipes and let her finish cleaning herself.

"Kylie, I need to finish cleaning you up, sweetheart. But I need to see your beautiful eyes

first, and make sure you are okay with this. Can you open your eyes for me, baby?"

From the moment she felt her dress being removed, Kylie had allowed her mind to float

off to a place where surreal things happen, but don't need to be acknowledged. Opening her eyes

would mean that this was real—that the first man who had made her tingle, down there, was

about to touch her where she'd feel it most. However, she was certain that his intentions were

very different from what her fantasies may have extended to. Without any basis for

understanding why, she found herself lamenting over the knowledge that he was not looking to

gain her approval to touch her intimately, but to get her permission to proceed with the

unpleasant task of changing her diaper.

She did not want to open her eyes, but she was already certain, despite the short time of

their acquaintance, that Brad would stubbornly wait her out until she had complied with his

request. So, very slowly, she peered up at him through her partially lowered lids, barely able to

force herself to meet his awaiting gaze. Expecting to see some measure of repulsion, Kylie was

surprised to see a mix of tenderness, and perhaps, compassion.

"There's my beautiful girl," he intoned. Then, looking to lighten the tense moment, "I

know this is pretty forward for a first date, but are you okay with me touching your pussy, baby?

I want to make sure to get you all nice and clean, but I don't want to do anything that scares you,

or makes you nervous."

Kylie was at a loss for words. Though she'd always thought words like 'pussy' sounded

somewhat crude, hearing it from Brad's lips was somehow intriguing, and made her feel a little

bit alluring and naughty.

"Um, sure, okay," she squeaked. "Whatever you, uh, need to do is good. Um, fine. I'm

good."

Brad took a fresh wipe from the package and then, spreading her thighs a little wider

apart, he began wiping around and between the lips of her sex, allowing his finger to swipe to the

inside of her labia on each side.

This was like no other diaper change she'd ever experienced, and even though she'd been

more or less changing herself since she was about ten or eleven, and had even inquisitively felt

around her body a little, she'd never experienced this kind of reaction to her own, or anyone

else's, fingers before. She was not sure if it was her own heightened awareness of Brad's sexy

manliness, or just the manner in which he touched her, but the tingles she'd felt earlier were not

even in the same league as what she was feeling now.

Unconsciously wriggling her hips in an effort to follow his stroking fingertips, Kylie

involuntarily moaned when the tip of his fingers hit upon her little clit. The sensitive bundle of

nerves had never been awakened before, and her body instinctively sensed that this was just a

taste of the good feelings that could be had.

For his part, though he had come to the realization that he was interested in Kylie, and

intended to get to know her better, Brad was valiantly trying to keep his own raging libido in

check, and had been attempting to handle this in a detached, almost clinical manner. Not wanting

to take advantage of the circumstances that were causing her to be revealed to him in all her

glory—almost beyond her will—it took him a moment to notice that she was responding in a

very blatant manner to his innocently intended manipulations.

Hearing her soft, sensual moans, it was all he could do to not throw the wipe aside and

sink his fingers inside her waiting channel. His mouth watered at the thought of closing his lips

around her sensitive little clitty, and sucking until his mouth was drowning in her succulent

juices. His prick felt like it was throbbing in time to his increased heartbeat, and constricted

became too mild a word to describe how tightly restrained he felt behind the denim of his

previously not too tight pants.

Wanting to be certain that he was correctly interpreting her reactions, Brad closely

watched her face, carefully assessing her expression as he slowed his fingers, turning the

movements into more of a caress. Applying a little extra pressure with his fingertips, he followed

a self- charted circuit of her sex, over and around her puffy pink lips, and across her clit, with an

occasional dip toward the dampened opening of her vagina, keeping the towelette that covered

his fingertips well lubricated, thus ensuring they were able to smoothly continue their venture

across her womanly treasures.

Kylie's legs shifted across the table, her torso thrusting up against his fingers as he

continued to stroke her, alternately increasing and slowing the speed of his fingers as her level of

excitement became more apparent, and he could feel that her little pleasure button had become

hard beneath the pads of his fingers.

Brad tossed aside the wipe, needing to feel only her flesh directly beneath his fingertips.

Breathing in her earthy and intoxicating scent as her juices began to flow and coat his fingers in

her slick excretion, it was all he could do to keep from burying his face in the apex of her thighs

and lap up all that she had to offer.

Hearing her mewling moans of satisfaction, and feeling her body's reaction to his touch,

Brad could no longer resist the need to taste her, so he swiped the index and middle fingers of his

other hand through her moisture and brought them to his mouth, needing to fully take in her

essence. While he indulged himself, sucking the ambrosia of her womanly gift from his fingers,

his other hand stayed in place, his digits stroking and pressing upon her most sensitive areas, as

he continued to monitor her reactions to the sensations that were working her up to an impending

orgasm.

"Does that feel good, baby? Do you like when I touch you like this? Are you going to

cum for me, baby?"

Kylie was not capable of responding with words. Nodding and moaning in the

affirmative, though she had no clue what she was agreeing to, she was half out of her mind, lost

in the myriad of sensations running through her body. She felt like she was at once electrified

and paralyzed. She wanted to move, and she also wanted to stay perfectly still, to do whatever

was necessary to make certain that this exquisite feeling never ended.

Assured from her reactions that Kylie was a willing participant in what was happening,

Brad leaned down and unclipped the clasp of her fairly unnecessary bra, lifting the cups up and

away from her small but perfectly formed breasts.

Feeling an increased throbbing in his dick, he took a moment to allow his eyes to feast on

the orange-sized peaks with their berry ripe nipples. Soon enough, a look was not sufficient, and

lowering his head, Brad pulled one of her firm little tits into his mouth. Feasting on the pert

mound, he alternated his firm suckling with gentle nipping and caressing strokes against her

erect little nipple with the flat of his tongue.

Kylie was practically overcome with the strength of her newly discovered desire, so when

Brad went to raise his head from her breast, she impulsively grabbed handfuls of his hair,

attempting to hold him to her, not wanting to lose the added facet of this first forage into her

sexuality.

With a rumbling chuckle against her chest, he turned his head toward her other breast.

"It's okay, baby, I just want to make sure this other little titty isn't feeling left out. I'm not done

playing with you, not by a long shot."

Sensing her growing urgency from the responses of her body's thrusting, and the tremors

and quivers running through her slight frame, Brad upped the pace of his questing fingers,

allowing his middle finger to just barely penetrate her virginal entrance.

Reacting to this new and unexpected sensation, Kylie stopped moving as her mind tried

to connect with what she was feeling. While not painful, this intrusion into a space that had

previously only been traversed one time by her family doctor, made her uncertain of how this

additional element would play into the other wonderful feelings she was experiencing. But she

was not overly concerned. After all, this was Brad—the only man who had ever incited her to

any level of sexuality—so if he was doing it, it was probably going to feel wonderful.

With that in mind, she allowed herself to just feel, sinking back into the maelstrom of

desire that had only slightly abated during her short mental detour.

Suddenly Kylie was gripped with a feeling so strong, she felt like she was running toward

something she could not name, but knew she needed it in order to live. Whatever she was

chasing was imminently more important than anything else, including her next breath, food,

water, or any other thing she could name.

From the tenseness of her body and the clenching of her tight passage against his finger,

Brad could tell she was about to fall over the edge. Experienced in the ways of bringing a woman

to completion, he helped her along, allowing his massaging fingers to apply a small amount of

added pressure, and slightly increasing the pace of his manipulations. Taking his finger from her

encompassing warmth, he lightly tapped her clit. "Cum for me, baby. That's my girl. Just let go

and cum for me."

As though it had been waiting for that command, Kylie's whole body stiffened as a

powerful orgasm rocked through her. Her entire being momentarily spun on the axis of the tiny

bundle of nerves at her center. A pulsing, radiating feeling seemed to be thrusting out of her clit,

and Brad's massaging fingers kept the exquisite feeling going for so long that she was breathless

as she felt herself virtually collapse, while the last lingering waves of her passionate response

passed through her.

Unable to move, she felt Brad's fingers slowly continuing to caress her, creating an after-

effect that was both pleasurable and ever so slightly painful, in a good way. Finally, unable to

take any more sensation, she pulled her quivering thighs together in an attempt to dislodge his

questing fingers from her flesh.

Lying there in a satisfied state of euphoria, with her arms at her sides, she struggled to

regulate her breathing, feeling her galloping heartbeat begin to slow back to something more in

the range of normal. Coming out of her post coital numbness, she suddenly became aware of the

moisture coating the apex of her thighs, and the crack leading to her little rosebud. Immediately,

the residual feelings of her sexual desire fled, as she became aware that, while caught up in the

storm of her passion, she must have done the unthinkable.

Groaning, and half shrieking in despair, Kylie flailed against Brad's body, which was

lightly draped across her own, wanting nothing more than to get up and run away, to hide. Her

cheeks blazing with color, she knew without a doubt that after this, she would never be able to

face him again—never ever.

Suddenly being bucked up from underneath, Brad tried to still her frantic movements,

needing to see if she was in pain, or if she had been somehow injured. He couldn't really fathom

that he may have hurt her with his weight, since he'd been holding himself up with his arms, and

the contact with her chest had been just that, skin to skin contact, with no actual transferring of

his weight on her much smaller and fragile frame.

Unable to get her to coherently listen or respond, he held her down, with his hands on her

shoulders and one forearm pinning her torso. Looking down into her face, Brad was dismayed to

find that she was weeping, huge sobs shaking the whole of her body, as she struggled to obtain

her freedom. Concerned, he wasn't about to release her until he had determined what was causing

the acute look of pain on her face.

"Kylie, what's the matter? Are you hurting somewhere? Oh my God, baby, was I too

rough with you? Tell me where it hurts, angel. Can you show me what's wrong?" he implored, as

he looked down into her tear-streaked face, and swollen, wet eyes.

Chapter Six

Tired, and physically drained from her first orgasm, and her panic-filled attempt to flee,

Kylie's body suddenly gave out, and she stopped struggling against him.

Seeing that she was no longer trying to get away, Brad took advantage of her now-still

position, and began running his hands over her, trying to ascertain what had caused her distress.

Not finding anything overt, and not sensing any resulting pained reactions from his hands, Brad

deduced that the problem was more likely caused by something running through her mind, rather

than an actual injury or physical pain.

Figuring she might be more comfortable being dressed before having any type of serious

discussion, he retrieved the open box of wipes and proceeded to clean her private area once

again, quickly running the moist towel over her pussy and through her crack, not wanting to

reignite whatever issues had caused her to freak out just moments before.

He knew she had fully enjoyed what had just happened, and he had not pressed the

experience on her. Its progression, from simple diaper change to sexual foray, had been

instigated more by her reactions than by his actions. Although, he was forced to admit to himself,

his method of cleaning her had been much more intimately performed than would be the norm.

After wiping her down thoroughly, albeit quickly, Brad proceeded to grab her ankles, and

using the same lifting technique as before, dusted her little bottom with talc. Then he released her

legs, powdered her front and lifted up the front of the diaper, securing the tapes snugly at her

sides. Throughout the process, Kylie showed no reaction. She allowed him to move her about

like a rag doll, neither resisting nor aiding him in getting her situated.

Knowing her aversion to being handled without compliance, he was even more

concerned that she was not responding to what he was doing to her.

Leaving her lying on the table, Brad proceeded to search through the chest of drawers

beside them to find something to put on her, figuring it may make her more comfortable to be

dressed before they settled down to discuss whatever what bothering her. Finding a nightdress in

the second drawer he opened, he helped Kylie into the gown, before picking her up and moving

over to the chaise in the corner. Though he'd have preferred a rocking chair, where he could

gently rock and soothe her as they talked, he settled onto the seat, holding her on his lap and

keeping her within the cradle of his arms.

Since he'd lifted her, Brad noted that Kylie had buried her face into his chest, clearly not

wanting to raise her head or meet his gaze as he attempted to find out what had upset her so

badly.

"It's okay, baby. You don't have to look at me, but you do need to tell me what's wrong. I

need to be sure I didn't do anything to upset or hurt you. Talk to me, sweetheart. You can stay

just like you are, but you have to tell me what's the matter."

Upon hearing his words, Kylie's tears returned, albeit much less severely.

I guess I should be surprised I even have any tears left, she thought. I am such a big cry-

baby. And a huge pee baby, she added silently, mentally castigating herself for the physical

defects that left her primarily unable to tell when her bladder needed to be released, nor allowed

her sufficient control to stem her flow, once her body had determined its course.

Although he hated to see her cry, Brad was a little relieved to at least see that she was

showing some reaction, unlike the lifeless doll she resembled earlier. Intuiting that she probably

needed a few more minutes to come to terms with her own thoughts, he gently rocked her in his

arms, rubbing her back and occasionally patting her bottom. Now that he was certain she was not

physically hurting, he was okay with waiting for her to signal that she was ready to talk over

whatever had caused her to react so severely.

Kylie lay in Brad's arms, wanting to just succumb to the comfort of his embrace, and

allow herself to drift off to sleep—hopefully not awakening until years from now, when she'd

had time to overcome the humiliation of urinating on herself while having her first sexual

experience.

Regrettably, she knew that she had to speak up and tell Brad the problem. She could tell

from his words, and from the way that he held her, that he felt guilty. It wouldn't be fair of her to

leave him thinking that he may have done something to upset or hurt her.

Intellectually, she'd come to terms with the fact that she needed to set things straight, and

make sure that he knew that he had not done anything wrong. However, the little girl part of her

just wanted to stay like this forever, floating in this masculine cocoon of warmth, and let Daddy

take care of everything.

Daddy! she screamed inwardly. Where in the heck did that come from? I'm sitting here on

the lap of the most drop dead handsome man—the one who just gave me my first, and only, mind

blowing orgasm, and I just called him 'Daddy' in my head. Oh man, there is really something

wrong with me. Besides, she thought. There's no comparison here. My real father could not be

bothered to even touch me, much less hold and comfort me.

She was well aware that being born a girl had been the first major strike against her, and

combining that with the fact that she was born sickly, her father had never found any use in her,

except as a tool to use against her mother, when she'd still been alive.

While waiting for Kylie to get to a more even keel, Brad had been doing some thinking of

his own. While there was no denying that she was tiny enough to be a child, he was under no

illusions that he felt for her as he would a child. Yes, he loved that he could easily hold and

cuddle her, but he was attracted to her as a woman, and desired her as a man does a woman.

Being a very sexually enlightened person, as well as being part owner of a club designed

to cater to all manner of fetishes, Brad operated from a live and let live perspective when it came

to accepting whatever methods people determined was best for them to reach their personal

pinnacles of sexual and life satisfaction.

So long as no harm was brought to themselves or others, he held the stance that it was the

right of every person to search out and seize their heart's desire. From the club, he had a bit of

familiarity with age play relationships, but until Kylie, he'd never shown any inclination toward

that particular kink himself, apparently not really 'feeling' the attraction of that particular

dynamic.

Seeing grown women or men dressed and treated as though they were chronologically

younger than their years, had not really instigated any particular reaction from him in the past,

and certainly had not intrigued him to the point of wanting to venture into such a relationship

himself. But with Kylie, there was every indication that he could embrace the idea of being both

her daddy, and her lover.

Apparently, if the right person were on the other side of the equation, ageplay could

actually be a turn on for him. Mentally replaying the myriad of emotions he had felt throughout

the day, he found, somewhat to his surprise, that he was not particularly concerned to have made

this discovery.

From the moment he'd met her, until he changed her diaper, he had been slowly seduced

to a new way of thinking about own capacity—and yes, now that it was out there—desire to be

everything to this special girl.

Reflecting on the situation, it became apparent to him that he had been moving toward

this line of thinking all day. Not only was she a truly beautiful woman/girl, regardless of her size,

but he also found something undeniably sexy about her vulnerability. His reactions during the

time he'd spent with Kylie were giving truth to the fact that there was an undeniable trigger

between his emotions and his cock. Mentally, he'd never have thought he'd be tempted to explore

this kind of relationship, but the perpetual hard-on he'd had ever since becoming aware that that

she was diapered under her cute little dress, was a pretty good indication that he was not as

indifferent to being a daddy to this special baby girl as he might have previously believed

himself to be.

After some time had passed, with each of them benefiting from some time for reflection,

Brad felt her body tensing slightly, suggesting that she had, or was coming close to, working

things over in her mind. Not wanted to rush her, he made himself patiently wait for her to find

the words to talk to him about whatever was bothering her.

Being the type of man who sought to protect those he perceived as being weaker, he

would not want to do anything to cause her any more stress, but he was also firm believer that it

was important to clear the air when conflicts arose, especially in a situation like this one, should

they mutually decided to pursue a relationship. Unquestionably, some resolution would need to

be reached, because he did not have the fortitude to go through this kind of reaction every time

they became intimate—which, given his new sexual epiphany—would most definitely be often,

if he had his way.

Focusing his attention directly on Kylie, he used one of his hands to cup the back of her

head, tilting it slightly back and up in an effort to force her to meet his gaze. His deliberate

positioning would allow them to maintain an eye to eye connection, and gauge one another's

feelings while they talked. From past experience, Brad knew that this level of direct

communication would be an important component in allowing them to progress to yet another

plateau of intimacy.

Still not sure what had caused the breakdown, Brad's determination to settle things was

growing stronger, and, given the stricken look on Kylie's face, and the tears still brimming in her

swollen, red-rimmed eyes, he took the first steps to get the ball rolling, perceiving he would be in

for long wait—like forever—if he waited for her to take the initiative.

"Sweetheart, I don't know what got you so upset you felt the need to get away from me. I

know that what just happened was a little fast for you, and believe it or not, it was a little too fast

for me, too. I don't usually engage in heavy petting sessions with anyone on the same day I meet

them, much less young, inexperienced women. And I'm sorry if what we did has you scared or

ashamed." Seeing that he had her full attention, he continued. "What we did was not bad, and I

thought that it was mutually enjoyable—but all you have to do is say the word, sweetie, and I

promise you, I'll never lay a hand on you that way again. I'd rather lose a hand than see you

cringe away from me like you fear I'm going to hurt or molest you."

"Oh no," Kylie wailed. "It was wonderful. You are perfect, and what we did, well, it was

really, really great, and I want you to do… I mean for us to… I want, uh, I'm just, well you

probably don't want to be with me again." Unable to meet his eyes any longer, she lowered her

gaze before continuing, "I'm so gross and disgusting. I really didn't mean to do it. I didn't expect

that to happen right then, but I guess I just didn't know. Or I mean, I couldn't even tell, until after.

You know?"

Brad had been listening intently to every word, but somehow, after hearing her

explanation, he was even more perplexed as to what had caused her to go off than he had been

before. From earlier conversations, he knew that she had a tendency to combine several

statements into one long and discordant sentence and, truth be told, he found it rather endearing.

However, in this case, it was impossible for him to decipher enough information from her

disjointed statement to even begin to guess at what would have given her the impression that she

had done anything that would be off-putting, or repulse him. For him, the only thing that could

have made the experience more pleasurable would have been if he could have been balls-deep in

her sweet little cunt, rocking her body with every thrust, and hearing her sweet voice scream out

her release.

Confusion aside, he was, without a doubt, pleased that she had confirmed that he had

rocked her world—so to speak. However, since it was now clear that she had not felt so

traumatized by his lovemaking that she wanted to run away from him, he was still clueless as to

what might have gone wrong. Before things got any more off course, he was going to make sure

that she spelled it out, and that they came to a mutual understanding before putting this thing to

rest.

His future plans included touching her a lot more, and far more intimately. His body's

reactions to Kylie had aggressively confirmed that he could hardly wait to encase his cock in her

hot, tight virginal channel, feeling her little muscles clamping down on his hard rod instead of his

finger. In fact, just thinking about it was enough to make him fear spending himself in his

boxers; something that had never happened to him before, not even as a randy young teen. His

body was letting him know, in no uncertain terms, that there was no way he could not pursue

being with her again and again. Particularly now, after hearing her say that she'd enjoyed it as

much as he did.

"Kylie, baby, I need you to tell me exactly what you think happened that would make me

perceive you as anything other than the beautiful sexy young lady you are. Trust me, I was there

the whole time, darlin', and from what I saw, there was nothing that I don't want more of."

Looking at him in aghast shock, Kylie could scarcely believe what he was saying.

Thinking back however, she figured that perhaps, in all the excitement, he just hadn't noticed. It

hadn't been like a flood of pee or anything—but just because she was lucky this time, that did not

mean she could just ignore it and go on as if it had not occurred.

She remembered the old saying, 'Better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved

at all,' and with some measure of drama, borne of inexperience and youth, she felt the true weight

of those words in her heart. She knew that, after having realized her body's potential for passion

under his adroit touch, she would never be the same girl she had been—but she would forever

have the memory of her first sexual awakening, brought forth by his skilled hands and mouth.

She told herself that that would have to be enough. She would be grateful to have that, even as

she yearned for more.

Resigned to what she must do, much as she hated the idea, she braced herself to

coherently confess what had happened, and then accept his inevitable rejection as gracefully as

possible. Despite every intention of being brave and mature as she explained the situation to him,

however, once she started speaking, Kylie could not help but close her eyes, loath to see the

repugnance that was sure to replace the warmly patient and loving expression now reflected on

his face.

Taking a deep breath, she began. "Um, I know you, uh, know. Uh, I mean, you remember

what you brought home for me, and what you had to do because of my… you know, my

problem? Well, even though I do know most of the time right before—I mean, really right

before, or sometimes just during when I do that, but I didn't this time, and I just did it. Sometime,

when you were… when your fingers were there… but I really didn't know, until after. I guess I

was so excited by what you were doing, I just wasn't paying attention and I, uh… Wow, this is

hard to say, even though it shouldn't be—but I guess I must have peed, right there, when we were

doing it. It was right there where we were, and I didn't even notice I was, like, wet down there,

until after."

Having finished making her confession, Kylie could only bury her face in her hands and

sob. While it hurt that she could not ever be with Brad again, she knew in her heart that she had

done the right thing. He deserved to be with someone who was more mature, a woman who did

not have her physical limitations.

She could not now even contemplate how she'd thought, for even a moment, that she and

Brad could have a future together—be a couple. He deserved to find someone like his friend

Mara; a tall, beautiful, successful woman. The woman he was meant to be with would be a

mature woman who dressed in sophisticated clothes; she'd ride in the front seat of his truck when

they went places, and she'd never need to be picked up and moved around because she was too

small to be able to do many of the things grown people should be able to do.

Lying in his arms, Kylie was expecting him to release her and set her away from him at

any moment. But when that did not happen, she wondered if maybe it was because he was so

shocked that he didn't know what to do. As this thought was running through her mind, she felt a

gentle shaking through her whole body, and could hear a rumble coming from Brad's chest,

where her ear was rested against him.

Opening one eye, she braved a peek up at him, and was affronted to find that he looked

like he was trying to keep from laughing. Laughing! What the hell? She had just revealed herself

to him in a way that she never before could have imagined, practically baring her soul to him,

and the jackass was laughing about it.

And just like that, her mood morphed, from incredible depression to seriously pissed off.

Pushing away from his chest with both hands, with her legs churning and scrambling for traction,

Kylie flung herself off Brad's lap, landing in a heap at his feet.

Just as he was registering the fact that Kylie had inexplicably hurled herself onto the

floor, she jumped up and started hitting him with her little fists. Everywhere she could reach, she

slammed her knuckles onto his body. Kicking him solidly in the shin, Kylie's rampage was

brought to a premature end by the horrendous pain she had inflicted on her toes.

Hop-limping away from him, she moved to a spot several feet away and dropped to the

ground, cradling her injured digits in both hands, and squeezing them as though that would help

end the throbbing pain that radiated throughout every toe.

During her brief but furious attack, Brad had sat motionless, barely able to register how

they'd gotten from one point to the next. In hindsight, it was easy to see how his delight could

easily have been misinterpreted—well, actually—that it had been misinterpreted.

Once she'd explained, he had reacted thoughtlessly, his laughter the result of being both

relieved at her explanation, and amused at the level of her innocence. Regrettably, it had

appeared as though he was laughing at her, rather than the situation. He'd been so pleasantly

awed that her body had been so unused to passion, that she was not even aware that the moisture

she had created was perfectly natural, and was supposed to happen, that he had reacted without

thought, never imagining the consequences his immediate reaction might incite.

Still reeling from the realization of the true level of her innocence, Brad noticed that she

actually seemed to be physically hurt, so he stood up to ascertain how badly she'd wounded

herself.

"Kylie, sweetheart, are you okay?" he asked gently, as he lowered himself to one knee

beside her. Though his every inclination was to reach out to her, he restrained himself, discerning

that she may still be angry with him, and that it would be better if he could avoid causing her to

move around before he could appraise the damage.

Once Kylie sensed Brad's approach and saw him coming toward her, she scuttled back on

her bottom, awkwardly trying to put distance between them, even as she continued to hold onto

the tip of her foot with both hands.

Unwilling to allow her to retreat, he grasped her leg, and proceeded to pull her toward

him, careful not to apply too much pressure, but enough to make certain she was not able to jerk

out of his grip.

Once she was close enough, Brad slid his other arm behind her, grasping her waist with

one hand, and quickly releasing her thigh to scoop under both legs with the other, lifting her into

his arms as he stood back up. Striding to the changing table, he deposited her on it, and tipped

her backward as he captured her smarting foot in his hand. Half-expecting her to go back into

tiny ninja mode, Brad split his attention between the delicate, perfectly formed foot in his hand,

and the face of the girl it belonged to.

After bending each of her teeny toes and individually inspecting each of them thoroughly,

Brad was fairly certain they were just painfully bruised as a result of having been given a good

whack. Regardless of the fact that Kylie had brought the pain on herself by going into a frenzy,

he could not help but feel bad for her as he finished up his examination by kissing each little

digit.

Moments later, he could see the last of her energy fade away. Lying her foot down on the

table, Brad proceeded to angle his body over the top of Kylie's, placing his hands on either side

of her head, and pushing her tangled curls away from her face, before leaning down to kiss her

little cupid's bow mouth. At this, her eyes fluttered open, gradually gaining focus on his face as

he raised his head several inches, enough so that they could make eye contact.

"All right, baby, I think I can safely say that your toes are not broken. But if you ever

attack me like that again, little girl, you really are going to have one hot little bottom.

Understand?"

Not quite sure what to make of his comments, but knowing that she had crossed a line

when she'd behaved as she did, Kylie mutely nodded back at him. Though she really wanted

nothing more than to crawl into her bed and hide, Kylie could see the seriousness in his eyes,

clearly conveying to her that Brad was looking for them to have a mature discussion. And after

everything she'd done, she owed him no less.

Hovering over her, he continued to cage her body down as she lay on the table. After

seeing her nod, he continued, "I'm sorry if you think I was laughing at you, Kylie. I was really

just laughing at the circumstances." At this, he noted that her eyes narrowed, her expression

beginning to again hover on displeasure. Aware that he needed to finish before her anger had a

chance to escalate, Brad again brought one of his hands to the side of her face, caressing her with

his palm. "I was relieved when I finally understood what was bothering you, and that it was

something we could easily fix. Sweetheart, I am pretty certain that you did not pee, but that you

are mistaking your own body's natural reaction for something it was not. When your body, a

woman's body, becomes sexually stimulated, it creates a secretion to aid in the process of

lovemaking. Without that moisture, any kind of penetration or prolonged touching could become

very uncomfortable."

Visually monitoring her capacity to absorb the information he was relating, he was

encouraged by her change in expression, indicating that this information was not only being

processed, but was perhaps serving as something of a reminder of knowledge that she already

possessed—intellectually, if not in practice.

"Kylie, I am several years older than you, sweetheart, and I've had a number of sexual

partners in my life." Shushing her when she looked about to reply, he went on, "but never before

have I felt like I did… like I do, with you. I've never felt like it was so right. Part of me is

worried about corrupting you, because I can tell that this is all new for you, and the other part of

me feels like a wild animal. And the only thing the animal side of me can think of, is to grab you

and use every part of your body, make you orgasm so many times, and so hard, that you promise

that I will be the only one who will ever have the chance to touch you."

Uncertain how she'd respond to his raw confession, he was somewhat surprised to see the

dazzling smile that burst across her face, and he barely had time to react as she simultaneously

reached up to grab the sides of his face, and wrapped her legs around him.

Covering his face over and over with loud smacking kisses, she made it obvious that his

words had had the intended effect, and that she was wholeheartedly on board for whatever was to

come next.

Stilling her face with one hand, Brad brought his lips to hers and kissed her deeply.

Running his tongue across the seam of her lips until they granted him entrance into the sweetness

of her mouth, he engaged her in the sensual kiss until she was responding just as passionately.

After several minutes of exploring the renewed passion between them, they finally broke

apart, Kylie's chest rising and falling as she pulled much needed air into her lungs. She had not

even realized she was getting breathless until Brad pulled away, un-fusing their mouths from one

another.

Though not as oxygen deprived as Kylie, Brad found himself needing to take some

steadying breaths as well. Pulling her close to him, he stood, and moved to the bed. Holding her

level with his face, Brad placed small kisses across her face and lips as they moved across the

room.

Reaching down with one arm, while holding her securely with the other, Brad swept the

numerous decorative pillows onto the floor and pulled back the comforter and top sheet, before

gently placing her down on the bed, her head resting on the bed pillow. Lightly jerking his head

upward, he broke Kylie's grip from around his neck, as his hands grasped her legs and broke her

grip from around his torso.

"It's okay, baby. I'm not going anywhere," he assured her. "I just need to kick off my

shoes so I can lay down with you."

As he stood to toe off his shoes, Kylie followed him, and, using his arm for balance,

pulled herself to stand on the bed, reaching out and starting to work her little hands at the buttons

of his shirt. Now that they had gotten all of the earlier problems cleared away, she was more than

eager to feast her eyes on his masculine body.

Grabbing her hands, he halted her progress. "Honey, I think I need to keep my clothes on

for now." Seeing her expression begin to crumble, he continued, "I want to take this nice and

slow. I plan to be with you, and to do a lot of things with you, and to you, but I think we need to

go slow. This is not how your first time should be, and if I give in right now, baby, I can assure

you that you won't still be a virgin when we are done."

At this, Kylie's eyes widened until they seemed like they might swallow up the whole of

her face. She knew she wanted to feel more of him, and to feel more of what he'd done to her

earlier, but her mind had not even started to traverse to the place where he would be fully making

love to her. She was not afraid of Brad, but actually thinking about having sex was practically

uncharted territory, and she had to admit she had some trepidation about the whole thing.

Would he even fit? She had read books and seen two movies that depicted how it was

done, but she had not personally had any experience beyond her imagination. The few times

when she had fantasized about 'doing it', there had always been a little part of her wondering if

she even could 'do it', and that was with the general idea that it would be a normal-sized man on

the other side of the equation. Brad was very big, and she had a feeling that that was going to be

the case for all of him, including his penis.

Shaken out of her musings, Kylie was suddenly again feeling one of the most interesting

and exquisite sensations—other than her orgasm of course—that she'd ever felt.

Lost as she had been in the haze of the mental images that had been inspired by Brad's

words, Kylie had hardly noticed when he had laid the two of them down. Then, having

apparently lifted her sleep shirt out of the way, his mouth and hand were now suckling and

plying at her ripe little breasts. Fully aware now of what was happening, she loved how he

alternated back and forth between them, licking the little cherries with the flat of his tongue, then

pulling almost the whole of each tit into the hot suction of his mouth, his clever, broad fingers

keeping the sensations going when the little pillows of feminine flesh were not otherwise being

devoured.

Kylie could not seem to focus her mind beyond what she was feeling. Much like the state

she had been in when Brad's hands had manipulated her peach, it appeared that her chest was

almost as much an erogenous zone.

She did not know how it was possible, but with each dragging pull on her nips, she felt a

renewed tingling in her clit, and she soon began to feel moisture dripping from her womb. Her

legs began to move, seemingly of their own accord, and her thighs pressed together and then

spread apart in time with the throbbing current that ran through her. She yearned for more, and

now she had a fairly clear idea what that more could be. As she had experienced before, she

could tell her body was amping up for the finale, almost like she was running in place, trying to

reach something that was just out of her view and grasp.

Brad could tell he was getting her worked up again, and he continued his relentless

assault on her tender young buds, curious to see whether she could climax from this level of

stimulation alone. It was no hardship to continue availing himself of her small slopes of

womanhood. Curiously, her breasts were more satisfying than any others he had felt. They were

a perfect mix of firmness and softness; the skin indescribably smooth and creamy, like nothing

else he had ever experienced. Her little nipples reminded him of plump, juicy little berries,

peaking to impossible levels of attention when he gently nipped at them.

Though she knew something was happening, Kylie was completely unprepared for the

explosion that overcame her body. Suddenly the electric current that was running through her,

zapped all of its attention on the core of her sex. Unlike when she'd achieved her first orgasm,

Brad wasn't even touching her down there this time, but her body apparently did not seem to

think that was a necessity, as her core began pulsing with radiating bursts of pleasure.

Her little clit felt so hot and swollen she could actually feel it pressing against the inside

of her diaper. With only a fleeting concern about the potential abnormality of such a thing

occurring, Kylie gave herself over, falling headfirst into her second, and almost equally amazing,

orgasm.

Feeling her body stiffen as she began to climb the final apex of her orgasm, Brad reached

down inside her diaper and began to rub at her already over stimulated button. Pressing on the

hard nubbin, he helped maintain the long wave of ecstasy that was pouring over and through her,

only stopping when her body gave a final spasm and her legs clamped together in an effort to

dislodge his tormenting fingers. Removing his hand, and remembering how sweet she was, he

couldn't help but bring his fingers to his mouth, savoring both the smell, and then the taste, of his

delectable little lover.

Situating himself as comfortably as possible on the too-short bed, Brad pulled an

unresisting Kylie with him, and, after some slight re-arranging, he had her settled at his side, half

on and half off his chest, one of her legs overlapping his abdomen, and her little head resting on

his shoulder. With his hand, he swept away and smoothed the hair that had fallen across her

features, allowing him a clear view of her satisfied grin, and her eyes, which were sensually

dazed, and at half-mast.

Unable to break away from her gray-green gaze, he began stroking a fingertip across her

smooth brow, and watched until her eyes settled closed, signaling that she had succumbed to a

much needed sleep.

Chapter Seven

Though it was far too early for Brad's internal clock to even contemplate falling asleep,

his whole body felt more relaxed at that moment than he could ever recall in his adult life.

Holding this precious little woman was like a gift. You wouldn't have to be a relationship expert

to recognize that this was probably a bad idea, and that he wasn't worthy of her, but he had to

have her in his life.

Regardless of the fact that he had not even found his own release during their time

together, he felt more satisfied now than after any sexual encounter he'd ever had previously. He

did not understand it. He'd never been one to put one iota of store into love at first sight, but if

that was not what this was, he sure as hell didn't know what to call it. Rather than pondering it

too much, he'd just accept it for what it was, and treat her like the precious jewel that she was.

The only potential hurdle to his intentions to keep Kylie for himself would be her

possible fears or unwillingness to commit to a relationship with him. But from what he'd

observed so far, she was falling into the same mind-set he was in, so he did not think that there

were any obstacles he could not easily overcome. He probably should feel a little guilty for what

he was planning, being that she was so young and innocent, but this was one prize he was not

willing to pass up for anyone's sake—not even Kylie, herself. He would do right by her, but if

necessary, he'd make damn sure to overcome any objections she may have about getting more

deeply involved with him.

So relaxed was he, and so enjoying holding his girl, Brad was surprised to discover that

he had actually ended up snoozing a little, only to be awoken a short time later in order to heed

the call of nature.

Carefully extricating himself from her body, Brad gently repositioned Kylie's limbs to

rest on the bed, and shifted her head to the pillow as he slid out of the bed. Pulling the covers up

over her shoulders, he left the room in search of another bathroom, rather than risking the chance

that the sounds of the commode or running water from the ensuite restroom would disturb her

much needed rest.

Doing up the couple of shirt buttons Kylie had managed to unfasten, he exited the room

and proceeded down the hall. Briefly peering into the open doors of the rooms as he passed, he

noted that they were all puzzlingly stripped bare of everything but the flooring and blinds.

After finding a guest bath located at the head of the stairs, and making use of the

facilities, Brad moved down the stairs, intending to find the kitchen and perhaps get a much

needed cup of coffee. As he went along, he saw repeated signs that the house seemed to be in

some sort of transition; empty picture hooks, and obvious open areas whose carpet impressions

demonstrably told of the additional furnishings which had once resided in the now empty spaces.

Leaving the living room, he passed what he guessed must have once been a formal dining

area, now stripped bare of all furniture, leaving only the dusty wooden floor and wallpaper trim

to testify to what the space had likely once been. In short order, Brad reached the kitchen, which

was appointed with state of the art appliances and a vast expanse of thick granite countertops,

including an island with a requisite vegetable sink and wide serving bar. As he looked around, it

took him a moment to realize that this room, like the remainder of the house, was strangely bare;

with not so much as a stool pushed up to the bar.

Brad briefly scanned the countertops and was relieved to note that one of them held a

built in Krupps coffee maker, its bright blue light indicating that the waterline was still

connected. Opening the cabinets located closest to the machine, he sought out the various

accoutrements he needed, finding instead only empty cabinets—which had been that way for

some time, if the faint dust marking their interiors was any indication.

Becoming more and more perplexed as he puzzled over the sparse furnishings and empty

cupboards, Brad began opening all of the cabinets and drawers, revealing that they, too, were

empty of the standard household kitchen items one might normally expect to find.

Checking the lower cabinets as well, Brad did find what appeared to be a simple pottery

set of dinnerware for four, including coffee mugs. Placing one of the mugs on the countertop, he

opened the drawer above it, and noted it contained an inexpensive set of cutlery, also for four.

Grabbing one of the tablespoons, he dropped it beside the mug on the counter, and then moved

on to the wide pantry door and opened it.

While not entirely empty, the many bare shelves supported the fact that no real cooking

had been taking place in the adjacent kitchen space, at least not anytime recently. The entire

stock of foodstuffs amounted to only a jar of peanut butter, a third of a loaf of bread, an open box

of crackers, cans of processed pasta gloop, and a few other equally unappetizing items that

would require little or no cooking—beyond a quick microwave zapping.

Moving to the SubZero side by side, Brad opened both doors and examined the contents,

finding an equally sparse array of offerings.

The fridge's inventory consisted of a half-full, half gallon of milk, a carton of orange

juice, a clear plastic bag with what looked like grapes, two open jars of jellies, an unopened

package of hotdogs, a tub of ham lunchmeat, about five slices of individually wrapped processed

cheese, and the 'every home' standard bottles and jars of condiments.

The freezer revealed marginally more dismal results, with its contents of two

microwavable frozen meals, a half dozen or so frozen ice pops, and thanks be to the heavens, an

unopened bag of Dunkin' Donuts coffee.

Grabbing the coffee before closing the doors of the fridge, Brad went to the coffeemaker,

and was relieved to find that the filter was the permanent type that just needed a good rinsing.

After giving both the pot and the filter a run under the sink, he set the machine to fill with water

and spooned in what he estimated would be enough coffee for a six cup pot. Leaning against the

counter as he waited for the machine to do its work, Brad pondered over the strange condition of

Kylie's home.

As he thought over what he did know, he realized that she could not be in the process of

moving in, because the paper he'd been given with her address had come from Mara. And that

had been taken from the store's delivery records, meaning that she had been here for at least

some number of months.

They had not yet discussed anything about her living arrangements, but based on the fact

that all of the rooms, barring hers, did not appear to be comfortably habitable, it was pretty much

a given that she was living here alone.

Pouring himself a cup of coffee, Brad continued to ruminate over the situation as he blew

across the top of the mug and sipped at his strong brew.

So why the lack of furniture, or even the most standard kitchen items, like pots and pans,

cooking utensils, and so on? If it were a money issue, why keep this large home for one person,

when it could be sold, and the proceeds used to find less expensive accommodation? While he

certainly wasn't a realtor, he knew what his own home had cost, so he figured it was a safe bet

that the house itself was likely worth around three quarters of a million dollars, or more.

Taking his mental calculations a step further, he figured that, after allowing for the

probable cost of taxes, utilities, and other related home expenses, Kylie must certainly have, or

did have until recently, some financial support. Even if she was renting, the cost would certainly

be more than what she could rent an apartment or smaller home for. And on the heels of that

thought, Mara's earlier mention of the fact that Kylie had presented a Platinum American

Express Card for her purchase at the store, was further confirmation to back up the idea that she

was not destitute.

He was so lost in the detecting going on inside of his head, that he was not aware that

Kylie had come into the room until he heard her open the cabinet door right across from where

he was lounging against the countertop.

Her shy and sleepy greeting was all it took for him to straighten, and immediately lift her

up for a quick, but passionate, kiss. Adorably rumpled and smiling, she rested her hands on his

shoulders and just stared into his eyes, until he seemed to realize he was continuing to dangle her

a few feet off the floor.

Settling her back on her feet, he offered up a token apology. "Sorry, baby. I know you

don't like getting picked up like that, but I just had to kiss you."

Giving him a barely there nod and a huge smile in response, it was clear that that kind of

'sweeping her off her feet' was a welcome exception to her general aversion to being moved

about without prior consent.

Watching her as she moved to pour herself a mug of orange juice, Brad realized that

getting Kylie used to being picked up was going to have to be foregone conclusion, because

there was no way he was going to be able to keep from scooping her up whenever he had the

chance. She was just too cute, and it would be too hard to resist holding her whenever the

opportunity arose. Having her in his arms just felt right.

As she reached back up to replace the juice on the high refrigerator shelf, Brad caught a

flash of her diapered bottom as her short nightgown stretched up with her raised arms. Noting

that her protection looked a little worse for wear, he wondered if she was just so comfortable

with him that she'd come down in her obviously damp diaper, or if her issues stretched to not

realizing when she was wet. Either was fine with him, but if it was the latter, he'd want to take

care to check her from time to time, making sure that she remained as clean and dry as possible.

He hated the thought of his babygirl being in a wet diaper and getting a rash.

Surprisingly, though he'd never had such inklings before, he realized he'd gladly take the

responsibility to make sure that wasn't a problem when he was around.

Looking down at the watch on his wrist, Brad realized that it was already a little after

nine in the evening. As he swallowed the scant remains of his third, or was it his fourth cup of

coffee, it occurred to him that he probably should have checked the time before he'd downed the

better part of the pot. Since he normally didn't go to bed before midnight, he surmised that if he

didn't have any more tonight, there was still plenty of time for his body to work through the extra

jolts of caffeine before he needed to be concerned about having a sleepless night.

What was of concern at this hour though, was the fact that Kylie had been sleeping a

couple of hours, and with the time that had passed since lunch, she was likely feeling as hungry

as he was. Mentally running through the available list of offerings to be had, he asked her if she

wanted to have something to eat.

Embarrassed, it occurred to Kylie that she should be the one asking him that question.

What a horrible hostess I'm being, she thought to herself. Running through the grocery items she

knew she had on hand, she immediately offered to make Brad something to eat, thinking he had

brought it up because he was hungry, and hadn't wanted to raid her kitchen without permission.

From the abashed looked on her face, he could see that his question had been

misconstrued, and he was quick to assure Kylie that he had not been hinting for her to prepare a

meal, but was merely concerned about her, especially since she had not eaten nearly as much as

he had during lunch.

Once past this mild misunderstanding, they decided on sandwiches, and together started

to gather the items needed to throw together a quick meal. Soon they were both standing at the

counter, with plates full of their impromptu dinner. They ate quietly, with no real conversation

passing between them, both of them surprisingly content to just be sharing the meal in

comfortable silence.

Once they were done eating, Kylie took the dishes to the sink, and proceeded to wash

them. She was glad of having something to do, as it allowed her a moment to think. Not certain if

she should be offering him a drink, or thanking him for bringing her home as she showed him to

the door, she took much longer at the task than was necessary. Suddenly nervous, and undecided

about what to do, she dreaded turning around without first determining how she should be

handling things.

Sitting atop a nearby counter, Brad watched her, enjoying the opportunity to observe her

as she took care of her chores. He would have liked to have given her a hand so they could spend

some more quality time together, but from the slow deliberateness of her movements, it was

obvious that she was stalling for time. Not sure why, but knowing that she was stretching out the

task far longer than would be necessary to wash up a couple of plates and cups, he resisted

saying anything, wanting to give her time to work through whatever things were running through

her mind.

In order for them to develop any kind of relationship, it was important that she feel

comfortable with him, and where he hoped they were headed in terms of being together.

Undoubtedly, it would be a bad idea to rush her right now, especially if she was having doubts,

but having just barely touched on what he sensed they could have as a couple, he was also under

no illusions that he would be able to benignly walk away from her if she allowed her fears to

overtake the chance of pursuing whatever this thing was between them.

Though she'd proven she could be a volatile little thing when she got upset, he had to

exercise some patience and indulge her apparent need to assimilate things as they progressed, if

he did not want the more timid part of her to feel as though she been steamrolled into the

relationship.

As he saw Kylie turning off the water, and starting to stow the cleaning items back in

their place, Brad moved behind her, resting his hands deliberately on her shoulders and turning

her into his chest. He could not resist holding her for just a moment, not certain if her nerves

would push her to ask him to leave, or if she was waiting for him to make the next move.

She felt so right in his embrace, though the height difference kept him from wrapping her

up in his arms as fully as he might have liked. Without lifting her, the top of Kylie's head was not

even close to his sternum, and it would take a lot of bending and stooping on his part for them to

connect.

This realization further solidified Brad's intention to increase Kylie's comfort level of

being in his arms more often than not, as rapidly as possible.

Kylie was relieved that Brad had initiated the first move, because regardless of the

number of scenarios she'd run through her mind as she washed the dishes—more slowly than

should ever be possible—she had been unable to settle on a decisive course of action.

Though she desperately wanted nothing more than to take him back to her room and have

him reignite the fire in her that had still not fully receded, she was scared that he might find her

too forward. Or, heaven forbid, that he might confess that he had just touched her because he felt

sorry for her.

She did not want to think that could be true, but faced with the reality of his attributes,

pitted against her own lack of womanly enhancements, she feared that he may not be as inclined

as she to continue their explorations of one another, regardless of what he'd said earlier.

Feeling Kylie fully relax against him, Brad moved forward with his next plan of action,

one which would very likely determine how slow, or fast, things would be progressing from

where they were currently. "Kylie, are you ready to go upstairs and take a bath, baby?"

Not certain if he was asking if he should leave so she could bathe because he thought she

needed to, or if he was asking her if she wanted to take a bath with him, she dumbly nodded

against his chest, lifting her head only long enough to peer at him in an unsuccessful attempt to

see if she could garner what he was thinking. Unable to determine his intent based on his current

expression, she allowed her forehead to fall back against him, resigned to waiting for him to

make the next move.

Taking Kylie's nod, and failure to take any steps to separate from his embrace, as assent

to his plans, Brad reached down and, clasping her torso, easily lifted her to his left hip, causing

her legs to reach around his waist, and positioning her bottom so it was resting on his forearm.

Looking down at her, he could see that once she was past her initial surprise in being

unexpectedly lifted, she was enjoying being held by him.

Carrying her through the kitchen, Brad switched off the lights as he passed, moving them

through the house and back to her bedroom, or more specifically, to her changing table.

Setting her on her bottom, he reached for the hem of her nightdress and began to remove

it from her slender frame, noting that Kylie lifted her arms to the ceiling, silently confirming her

agreement to follow his lead.

Once she was naked, but for her diaper, Brad situated her more toward the center of the

table, and after easing her into position on her back so he could remove the final piece of

covering from her body, he swiftly undid the tapes at her hips before pulling the diaper out from

beneath her. After taking a moment to wipe down her plump little lips and bottom, he once again

lifted her to his hip, and carried her through to the bathroom. Lifting the lid of the commode, he

sat her on it, and turned to begin filling the tub for her bath.

Kylie sat on the toilet, not sure how to react. She had not sat on the toilet in front of

anyone since she was about ten years old, during Mrs. Garner's final attempt to try and help her

strengthen her muscles and more successfully use the potty when she needed to pee.

Unfortunately, the best effort can't overcome physical shortcomings, so the venture was

ultimately declared to be not worth pursuing, and since then, all of her time in the bathroom had

been strictly solitary.

Though she'd hated the long hours spent sitting with the ring of the toilet seat digging

unmercifully into her thighs and bottom, as she filled balloons with air and blew on a pinwheel,

the good part about that final training had been Kylie's discover that, even though she did not

have sufficient bladder control to prevent urinating, she could often cause herself to go pee when

she wanted to. Silly as it had seemed at the time, the blowing technique was actually quite

helpful, as it aided her in being able to force her bladder to release somewhat on command.

By setting her watch to go off once each hour throughout the day, as a reminder, she was

frequently able to use the bathroom at home, thus preventing her diapers from becoming

thoroughly soaked.

Though this method did not entirely prevent her from a small amount of leaking, nor give

her the freedom to wear normal panties, it did allow for her to safely wear the less bulky pull-ups

while at home. Regardless of the fact that this small feat would not have been much of an

accomplishment for most anyone over the age of four, given her body's limitations, Kylie felt a

great sense of pride when she was able to go through a day with only a couple of pull up

changes.

After squeezing out a good amount of bubble bath under the running water, Brad knelt by

the tub, adjusting the water and roiling the bubbles to the surface as he occasionally glanced back

at Kylie to assure she was still where he left her—and frankly, just to enjoy the view presented

by her cute, naked little body.

Since she'd been sitting on the toilet for a number of minutes, Kylie's body decided that it

was time to do what nature intended, and she felt her bowels prepare to be relieved. Not sure

what to do, but knowing that there was no way in the world that she was going to poo with Brad

in the room, she sat stiffly on the ring, clenching her rosebud as tightly as possible.

From the increasing gurgles she could now feel running through her, she knew that soon

the inevitable would happen, so she needed to get him out of the room very quickly.

"Thank you for running the bath, I'll take care of it from here if you want to go watch TV

in my room," she suggested.

"No, sweetie, I'm looking forward to getting you into this tub and washing every one of

your little nooks and crannies," Brad countered, looking at her with a comedic leer.

Desperately clenching her bottom, Kylie tried to think of some way to get him to leave,

without revealing to him why she wanted him gone. Yes, she was certain that everyone was

familiar with what people did in the bathroom, but from a very young age, she had been adamant

about having privacy when going number two. Not cognizant of when or why she came to

believe it to be so, she knew without a doubt that it was a dirty and shameful thing to do in front

of anyone else.

With time rapidly running out, Kylie yelled out for Brad to leave—just a fraction of a

second before her less than propitious effort to forestall the inevitable, failed. Burying her bright

red face into her hands, Kylie hunched over her legs, determined that she would stay in this very

spot until she expired from mortification.

Too late, Brad realized what the problem was as he heard the tell-tale tinkling and faint

plop coming from the bowl of the commode as Kylie's body expelled, almost at the same time as

she had loudly called for him to vacate the room. Even had he been amenable to her plan to

banish him from the room, her request was certainly not made in time to avoid his presence as

she voided.

Speaking in a matter of fact but kind tone, Brad asked Kylie if she was finished going

potty, and without raising her head, she nodded, her face still hidden in her hands. "Please go,

and I'll call you when I'm all done," she pleaded, the anguish in her voice clear, even when

partially muffled through her hands.

While by no means happy that Kylie was obviously embarrassed, Brad was somewhat

glad that this had happened, as it would help solidify how he saw their relationship progressing

from there. He planned to take care of his babygirl, overseeing even the most minor of her needs,

and this was a great opportunity to show her how committed he would be to this end.

Walking over to her, he gently cupped her elbows in his hands, and lifted her from the

seat. So surprised was she by this action, that she floundered for a moment, before trying to push

backward and regain her position. Expecting this, Brad gathered both of her hands into one of his

own and propelled her forward, easily overcoming her efforts to move in the opposite direction.

Reaching over to the roll of tissue, Brad gathered a handful, and, using his forearm to

gently apply pressure, he forced Kylie to bend forward toward the floor. Once positioned, Brad

wasted no time in reaching his tissue-filled hand between her legs and wiping her clean, from

cunny to buttocks, taking special care to assure that her bottom was completely cleansed.

Well aware that she was likely going to be both upset and humiliated over his highhanded

tactics, Brad did not try to explain his actions, nor engage her in any conversation regarding what

had just taken place. Opting instead to get her into the tub, where the warm water and soothing

bubbles might give some measure of comfort and allow her to relax before they tackled

discussing anything, he scooped her up and lowered her toward the sea of bubbles, as she rigidly

held herself as far away from him as possible.

Eager to get away, Kylie assisted her entry into the tub by wiggling free, and practically

hurling herself into the awaiting bath, dunking her head as well as her body in the process. After

a second of floundering, she came up sputtering, her tiny face and head emerging covered in

bubbles.

It took all of Brad's fortitude to keep himself from letting loose with an outright laugh,

but seeing the angry scowl on her face, he was reminded of what had happened the last time he'd

reacted that way, and he knew without a doubt that laughing or showing any outward sign of

amusement would not be well received. Wanting to allow them both an opportunity to regain

their composure, he turned away, and went about looking for towels in the linen closet that was

situated on the other side of the room.

After allowing enough time for them to each sufficiently compose themselves, Brad

turned back toward Kylie, and was pleased to see that she had managed to swipe off the majority

of the bubbles, and was now reclining in the tub. Though assuredly not smiling, it was a relief to

see that she also no longer looked like she wanted to shoot lasers from her eyes and kill him.

Seeing Brad approaching, Kylie closed her eyes and lay still in the tub. She was still not

ready to talk, and could not even bring herself to look at him.

Admittedly, as she'd fallen into the tub for her ungainly dunking, she'd been angry, but as

quickly as that emotion had visited, it fled. She was now simply consumed with acute

embarrassment, not only over what had just transpired, but the events of the whole day, which

she could not stop rehashing through her mind, as though being forced to watch a movie clip of

some of her most embarrassing moments in life.

Kneeling at the side of the tub, Brad reached in, and began to gently caress her. Smoothly

tracing the line of her limbs, and crossing over her water and soap bubble-slickened skin, his

hand soothed her mind and body like nothing she had ever experienced. Incrementally relaxing,

her body felt as though it was floating along the surface of the water, being gently carried by the

waves of touch that skimmed over her flesh.

Intuiting that they had passed through the most crucial part of Kylie's upset, Brad

proceeded to bathe her body and wash her hair. Gently massaging her scalp as he worked in the

shampoo, he was careful to keep any of the soap from running forward toward her face. Handing

her a washcloth to hold over her eyes, he shifted her body toward the center of the bathtub and,

while supporting her neck and back, poured warm water from the tap over her head until it rinsed

clear.

With the same careful attention to detail, he retrieved the washcloth, lathered it up with

her scented soap, and proceeded to wash her whole body. Working from the bottom to the top, he

only lightly touched on her bottom and pussy before moving on to her upper body and arms. He

did not want to jeopardize these moments of peaceful tranquility, and hoped that she would

become relaxed enough for him to talk to her about how he saw their future together.

Once he had completely washed all of the areas he could adequately cleanse, he stood up,

and then pulled her to stand in the tub. Opening the drain, he quickly and efficiently washed her

nether areas, and then poured several cups of fresh warm water from the tap over her body,

thoroughly rinsing away the soap residue before wrapping her snugly in the waiting oversized

towel and scooping her up into the cradle of his arms. Grabbing a second towel he had sitting on

the counter, he sat her in its place and attended to her hair, softly rolling the damp tresses into the

folds of the towel and buffing the excess moisture away until only a slight amount of dampness

remained.

While not one word had yet passed between them, Kylie's relaxed posture and

willingness to allow him to care for her clearly indicated to Brad that her mood had leveled out

considerably. Now he only had to worry about trying not to reignite her temper or

embarrassment once they got down to having a serious discussion.

Assured that Kylie's hair was sufficiently dry, Brad carried Kylie through to her bedroom

and again laid her down on the changing table, leaving her wrapped in the towel like a little

worm. Going to the drawer where he had previously found the nightgown, he chose another

similar garment to dress her in. Releasing her from her terry cloth cocoon, he removed the damp

towel from beneath her body and tossed it aside, and then started to massage her body with the

baby oil that was among the other items in the changing station.

Kylie felt so very relaxed. Her whole body felt like mush. If she did not know better, she

would think that her very bones had melted inside of her, succumbing to the masculine hands

that rubbed away every last bit of tension from her body. Not even certain if she could move, she

was surprised that a part of her was uncharacteristically enjoying being powdered, diapered, and

dressed, with no more assistance from her than would be required of a doll.

Though she had not moved for some time, and her eyes remained closed, Brad could tell

that Kylie was still awake, and very much relaxed. Leaving her lying on the table, he walked to

the bathroom to get her hairbrush, quickly returning to lift Kylie back into his arms.

Moving the two of them to the chaise, Brad positioned himself as far back as the seat

would allow, and then arranged her so that she was straddling him, her knees resting on either

side of his hips. Taking the brush, he began running it through the silky damp strands of her hair.

A feeling of serenity encompassed the room, as the only sounds that could be heard were their

quiet breaths, and the slight snicking of the brush as it ran from the crown of her head to the tips

of her golden curls, creating an atmosphere that would further serve to allow them each to relax

into their own newly forming roles.

Fearing she may be lulled into sleep before they could establish their expectations for

how they would move forward, Brad set aside the brush and rearranged Kylie so that she was

draped across his lap, her head resting in the crook of one arm. He needed to be certain he could

see her face, and that they were fully connected while having this important discussion.

Stroking a hand down her hair and face, Brad spoke. "Baby, I know we just met, but there

is something here that just feels right. But before we go any further, I need to make sure that you

are feeling the same way I am. The way things have been today has made me realize that I need

someone like you in my life. Not just as a girlfriend—a beautiful woman I want to make love

to—but someone who also fulfills my need to nurture, and provide loving care and attention to."

Seeing the obvious question in her eyes, he could tell that Kylie had not yet absorbed the

full meaning of what he was trying to impart to her.

"Kylie, what I am trying to tell you is that I want to be your everything, and I want you to

be mine. Sometimes I'll want to fill you, and make passionate love to you, and other times, like

right now, I'll want to baby you, and care for you like a daddy would for his little girl. Does this

make any sense to you, honey? Are you understanding what I am saying to you, sweetheart?" he

implored, looking into her questioning eyes.

"So, you want to pretend that I'm a baby, and then have sex with me?" she asked, looking

somewhat dismayed by the prospect of entertaining something that was, essentially, in direct

opposition to anything she'd ever before imagined.

"No, I don't want to make love to the baby part of you. I am definitely not a paedophile,

and I have no interest in being sexually intimate with a child, in any way," Brad avowed. "Caring

for you as my babygirl is just one separate and distinct part of what I want with you. When we

are sexually intimate, I would want, and need, to be with the adult Kylie. The passionate woman

that I have already seen, the sexy spitfire I desire to make my own, in all that the ways a man

takes a woman," he averred, as his eyes implored her to fully understand the scope of what he

was trying to relate.

Trying to wrap her mind around what he was describing, Kylie was surprised to find that,

although it sounded a little taboo, there was not anything at all distasteful about it. She had

greatly enjoyed almost everything they'd done together so far, including the parts that should

have bothered her. Having battled so hard over the years to be somewhat independent, the fact

that she'd so easily succumbed under his control could be construed as being somewhat telling, at

least with respect to her true nature and desires.

Wasn't it her, in fact, who'd mentally referred to him as "Daddy" when she'd been running

through things in her mind earlier?

Chapter Eight

As a youngster, Kylie had been full of confidence and determination, not allowing

setbacks to keep her down for long. Once it had become abundantly clear that she was not going

to grow any bigger, and that her physical shortcomings were ones she'd have for her whole life,

she'd worked hard to assert herself as independently as possible.

It had been a matter of pride for her to always strive to do whatever she could to care for

herself, and not be seen as less capable than anyone else her age. While she may not have always

managed to achieve her goals, her mother had always applauded her efforts, and gave her the

motivation and courage to continue to strive for her own personal pinnacles of success.

To Kylie's great detriment, once her mother had been taken from her at the tender age of

ten, she lost her greatest supporter and personal cheerleader. Her mom had always been able to

see inside, to the dynamic person that lived inside the tiny body. Never seeming to find it

difficult to overlook her daughter's physical limitations, Amanda Shannon had always

encouraged the girl to reach whatever milestones she set for herself.

Kylie's father, on the other hand, rarely seemed to notice his daughter, and could not be

bothered with the trivial aspects of her development, consigning such matters to fall fully within

his wife's domain.

Unfortunately, once her mother was gone, Kylie's father was left with the responsibility

of overseeing his daughter's day to day needs. Though lacking much in the way of emotional

fortitude, Kyle Shannon's sense of responsibility ran deep, and to that end, he wasted no time in

making any and all necessary arrangements to ensure Kylie's care would be adequately

addressed. Unfortunately, though he surely loved his daughter, it did not occur to him to be

concerned with how his decisions might affect Kylie's social and personal growth.

And so it was, that when he'd become aware of the necessary accommodations that

needed to be made in order to allow her to attend classes with her peers, he promptly weighed

what he considered were the important pros and cons in allowing her to continue attending the

local school, and ultimately determined that home-schooling would be the best option for all

parties.

In fact, had anyone asked him to give it thought, he might have even expressed that his

decision would serve to be less humiliating for the child herself. What with having to wear

diapers to school, and the size difference between herself and her peers becoming more dramatic

as time when on, circumstances were not optimal, and any unpleasantness that might occur

otherwise, could easily be avoided by removing her from an environment that forced

comparisons to be made.

Sadly for Kylie, her father never expressed such possible thoughts or feelings to her, or

else she might have been able to more easily accept the dramatic changes in her life after her

mother had perished in a fatal car accident.

In the blink of an eye, she went from being a happy little girl, full of life and eagerness to

explore the world—regardless of her limitations, to a child mostly restricted within the walls of

her home, with most of her interactions being with those charged to fulfill their salaried duties of

providing for her educational and physical needs, with little or no thought given to nurturing her

in other equally important ways.

Her mother's efforts in helping the girl learn to ride a bike, play the piano, swim, climb

trees, or whatever else she set her sights on, soon became nothing more than a memory—as her

future desires to expand her abilities and experiences were met with staunch denials and

reprimands.

With no source of assistance to help her conceive and reach new goals, Kylie's

adventurous spirit was left to flounder, and eventually go dormant.

By the time she turned fifteen, and her schooling included necessary educational outings

such as visits to museums, tours of political offices, and so on, Kylie had become much more

introverted, and only a small sliver of her previously effervescent personality remained. Had she

been less shy, she might have been able to forge real relationships with some of the other kids,

but her small stature and shy persona did not exactly entice anyone to reach out and bring her out

of her shell. So she remained, even in a crowd, very much alone, and lonely.

Mrs. Granger, the housekeeper who had been part of Kylie's life for most of her life, was

something of an enigma. Though never overly friendly with Kylie, she would display kindness at

times, such as always remembering to prepare or procure a cake for Kylie's birthday each year,

and often preparing meals based on some of her favorite foods.

Those gestures, combined with her duties to ensure that the child had clean clothing,

bedding, and that her physical needs were met, represented the full extent of her ability to be in

any way nurturing.

Sadly, Evie Granger was a broken woman. During her early twenties, when it became

clear she could not conceive the child her spouse so desperately wanted, she found herself

divorced and alone. Without so much as a warning, her husband had cleaned out their apartment

and bank accounts, and moved across the country with his soon-to-be new wife, whose womb

had proven to be much more fertile than Evie's had been.

Without any funds or skills beyond what she had learned during her years as a housewife,

Evie Granger had been left to find a job that would afford her not only a means to make a living,

but preferably a position that would provide meals and a place to lay her head at night.

Immediately placed by the staffing agency she contacted through a want ad, she began

her more than thirty year housekeeping career. By the time she joined the Shannon household,

she was in her late forties, and had little experience in interacting with children, nor did she have

any particular desire to try.

At the time of his wife's passing, Kyle Shannon was so unaware of even the most basic

elements of his daughter's life that he contemplated, and discussed with his highly efficient

housekeeper, the advisability of hiring a nanny to take over the child's personal care. Had she

been born a boy, and thus a worthy heir, he might have taken more of an interest in her ongoing

development. However, since she was a girl—and a damaged one at that—he had not really

viewed her as anything more than her mother's child, and, upon Amanda's death, an added

responsibility to be expeditiously assigned to professionals equipped and trained to be able to

handle her.

Having slightly more insight into Kylie's abilities, Mrs. Granger had suggested that she

evaluate the girl's needs and then report to him what additional help might be required. Once told

that Kylie was relatively self-sufficient, and that additional help did not appear to be necessary,

Kyle saw his duty as being fulfilled, and fully immersed himself in his various business affairs,

creating an even greater divide in his relationship with his only child—which had only ever been

tenuous at best.

And that summed up Kylie's life since early childhood; the latter part of her formative

years spent virtually trapped in a household where her father only occasionally visited, her only

constant companions consisting of an emotionally reserved housekeeper, and a revolving set of

tutors who would occasionally be called in to aid her when her online course studies demanded

some added assistance in order to allow her to pass her final tests.

In terms of her material needs, Kylie had no cause for complaint. She had always been

provided with all of the necessities of life, as well as plenty of age-appropriate toys, games, and

books. When she was twelve, she'd been presented with a credit card that could be used to make

online purchases of items that she wanted, the only caution being a written note from her father,

that she clear any large expenditures through him via email, and to keep her spending to a limit

of no more than twenty-five hundred dollars a month.

With this new found freedom to be able to express herself in some individual way, Kylie

proceeded to purchase furnishings, decorations, movies, and CDs that appealed to her own

uncertain, but burgeoning, sense of style. Some of her choices proved less appealing in person

than in theory, such as her phase of embracing the trendy vampire novels and movies. She'd been

so enthralled in the genre that was so popular with others in her age group, she had even

purchased a number of large posters depicting the bloodsucking but handsome movie characters,

only to find that she was unable to sleep after she had woken one night from a nightmare and

been further terrorized by the life-sized creatures that appeared to be emerging from her bedroom

wall.

If anyone had asked her several months ago, Kylie would have said that she was happy,

and very lucky to have what she did. She lived in a beautiful home, had been given a top notch

education, which she even now continued through online college credit courses, had more than

sufficient funds to support her through her lifetime and beyond, and had never had to worry

about her wellbeing, or when or where her next meal was coming from.

Sadly, her primary sense of security had ended about four months previously, when the

news came that her father had died, the result of a fatal heart attack while heading up a heated

board meeting.

Though she had not ever been terribly close to her father, she still deeply mourned the

loss of her last parent, and was battered with fears of what was to become of her now that he was

gone. True, he had not been much of a father from an emotional standpoint, but he had always

taken care to assure that her every need was met, and that she wanted for nothing material.

After her father's funeral, Kylie fell into a depressed frame of mind, spending more and

more time sleeping, and unable to force down more than a few bites of food once or twice a day.

Already small, and ill able to afford the deprivation of healthy sustenance to her system,

her health began to deteriorate at an alarming pace.

Having been assured by Kyle Shannon's attorney that her services were, at least for the

time being, still desired, and that her wages would be met by the estate, Mrs. Granger remained

with Kylie, continuing to complete her daily chores, and fixing Kylie's favorite meals in the

hopes of enticing her to eat. After several days of watching the girl languish, Evie Granger

contacted Kylie's family doctor and apprised him of the situation, seeking his counsel as to how

she should proceed.

Concerned by the housekeeper's description of her charge, Kylie's doctor made an

unprecedented home visit, wanting to determine the girl's condition personally, before making

any decisions as to what might need to be done to assure her good health.

After examining the nearly catatonic girl, who was presenting signs associated with

severe dehydration, he immediately phoned an ambulance to transport her to the nearest hospital,

advising them to be prepared to start an IV as soon as they arrived.

Unbeknownst to Kylie, as she was being cared for and brought back to health in the

hospital, new developments had taken place on the home front, ones that would ultimately be

nearly disastrous for the young woman.

The day following Kylie's admittance to the hospital, Mrs. Granger had opened the door

to Mr. Shannon's attorney and, to her great surprise, the new Mrs. Shannon. Not having been

aware that her employer had taken a new wife two years previously until she'd contacted the

attorney to advise of Kylie's hospitalization, she could only listen and try to comprehend the

instructions and information she was being given.

The attorney advised that, while Kylie's inheritance was primarily intact, there were some

items that had not been specifically addressed in Kyle Shannon's will. For this reason, because

the value of these items were paltry in comparison to the full estate, and to prevent any lengthy

and arduous court battles, as executor of the estate, the attorney had determined that he would

allow the new Mrs. Shannon to take possession of marital properties that were not specifically

accounted for within the final testament.

Unfortunately, though the house itself was to ultimately be Kylie's property, the

furnishings within had not been specifically awarded to her in writing. The new Mrs. Shannon,

the attorney had advised, while giving the named woman a contemptuous look, wanted to take

possession of the household property immediately, and had already arranged for movers to

facilitate the packing and transport.

Apparently keen to prove the less than flattering impression the attorney had of her,

Kyle's wife urged him to complete his instructions, which included informing Mrs. Granger that

in forty eight hours' time, she would be removed from the payroll, which had been financed by

Kyle Shannon's personal accounts, and were therefore under the discretionary control of his new

widow.

At the end of this blunt edict, while the other woman was performing a quick inventory

of the downstairs rooms, most especially with an eye toward the fine decorative accents, china,

and silverware, the attorney assured the shell-shocked housekeeper that in two days' time, a three

month severance would be directly deposited into her account, along with her current wages.

Giving her his card, he asked that she contact his office once she had established a

forwarding address, so she could be provided with the bequest details that would be due to her

from Kyle Shannon's estate, once it had passed through probate.

Having completed his business, the attorney informed the second Mrs. Shannon that he

was departing, and that she ought to accompany him immediately if she was going to ride back

with him.

Lamenting that she'd barely had time to do a complete walk through the downstairs

rooms, Mrs. Shannon decided against remaining to further inspect her new items under the dour

gaze of the older woman, and instead advised Mrs. Granger that she was to supervise the movers

when they arrived, and ensure that all of 'her' property was carefully packed and removed.

The following day, Mrs. Granger directed and oversaw as the movers took practically all

of the downstairs furnishings; as well as those in all of the bedrooms, except for Kylie's room,

which she had confirmed with the attorney should be considered the girl's private property, and

not subject to the unassigned ownership conditions.

Mrs. Granger had toyed with the idea of contacting Kylie at the hospital, to determine if

the girl wanted to retain her services, but with practically no furnishings in the house, anything

the girl decided now would not be able to go into immediate effect, regardless.

No, she decided, the girl would not be remaining there, in that big house, and what use

would Kylie have for a housekeeper in an apartment? Following that thought, as though Kylie

herself had declared it so, Evie decided that if she was going to be moving into less spacious

accommodations, it may as well be on her own terms.

Now in her mid-sixties, and with a considerable amount of savings from having earned a

reasonable salary with little to no expenses on which to spend it, she decided that this would be

the perfect time for her to begin her long-awaited retirement. Though the opportunity had come

slightly earlier than she'd planned, she looked forward to overseeing her own home, which was

furnished to her own taste, and kept in accordance with her own particular wants.

Feeling good about her decision, and looking forward to starting her retirement, Evie

Granger left the house that had been her home for the last eighteen years without a backward

glance; her final, fleeting thoughts about Kylie revolving around her satisfaction that she'd been

able to have done the girl a final good turn by preventing all of her personal belongings from

being stripped away during her absence.

Though her father's attorney had visited her once during her six day stay in the hospital, it

was not until the day of Kylie's release, that he deemed it appropriate to bring her up to speed on

what had transpired during her convalescence. As he explained the circumstances to her, he was

shocked to find that Kylie had no idea that her father had remarried. Though the girl's stepmother

had admitted to him that she and Kylie had not met, he'd assumed it was probably because of the

girl being jealous of her father's new relationship, or something along those lines.

The attorney had known Kylie all her life, but with their interactions being few and very

far between, he was unable to fully comprehend what his mind knew to be true, that this small,

childlike person was a full grown adult—a fully grown adult in a diaper—but an adult just the

same. In keeping with his view that she was too young to make important decisions, he told her

that he had found her a new, fully furnished condo, in a building that provided full amenities,

including daily housekeeping, 24/7 room service, and full concierge services. To prove this, he

had brought the real estate documents with him to the hospital, intending to transport Kylie to

her new lodgings, rather than returning to the now empty home where she had previously

resided.

Kylie had been taken aback by the attorney's news, as well as his presentation of his plans

for her to purchase some sight unseen new apartment, and uproot herself from the only place she

had ever called home. It was too much for her to grasp at that point in time, and she wanted

nothing more than to just go home and be surrounded by her own things, to be comforted in the

space that she had shared with her mother, her parents, no matter for how fleeting a time.

Thanking the attorney for his time and kind intentions, she informed him that she

planned, at least for the time being, to remain in her current home, and, having been assured that

her own personal belongings were still there, she told him she was certain she would be fine

there for the time being.

With no choice but to concede to her wishes, once outside of the hospital, the attorney

had helped her into the waiting town car, and instructed the driver to see her home. With a final

caution to her to contact him if she needed anything, he'd closed the door and watched as the car

drove away.

Chapter Nine

After their talk about being coddled as well as treated as a grown woman, Kylie was

inexplicably, but utterly intrigued, by the notion of being both Brad's baby, and his lover.

Wondering if there was something wrong with her for feeling this way, she had allowed

her mind to go backward, wanting to see where and how her mind may have veered off course,

allowing her to not only want, but to crave what was implied by the picture he was presenting.

Knowing this was an important step in being certain of her feelings, she decided she needed to

examine where her own motivations stemmed from, in order to be sure that this was the right

thing for her, and for Brad.

Noting that she was in a deep and concentrated process of thought, he began questioning

Kylie about her feelings and thoughts as she mentally progressed through the memories that

spanned the years of her life.

Kylie's life story was not a short one, and their first session lasted through the early

morning hours, until, finally too exhausted to think, the two of them collapsed on her bed,

holding each other tightly as they slept through until early afternoon the following day.

When they awoke, Brad encouraged her to pick up where they'd left off earlier. He did

not want to halt the process that was taking them on this journey through Kylie's past, as it was

allowing him to see through to the full person she was, as well as giving her some cathartic

release.

By the end of that day, allowing only for occasional breaks to take care of necessary

concerns such as eating, restroom breaks and diaper changes, and a brief walk around the block,

Kylie had shared most, if not all of her past with him.

Once they reached their present situation, including Kylie's thoughts and memories of

first seeing him, meeting him, and in her words, falling in love with him; Brad was even more

enamored of his precious babygirl. Seeing first-hand how her resilient spirit had allowed her to

overcome her uniquely troubled childhood, he was honored that he was here to embrace her as

she came to the realization of the wonderful person she had grown to be, and he was adamantly

determined to be the recipient of all of the love her heart was obviously yearning to bestow.

Brad, instinctively knowing that Kylie would feel the need for there to be some

semblance of an even exchange of information, took a little time to relate some of his own

childhood, including feelings he had never shared before with another person. It was important to

him that she understood that, while his circumstances had been different, he too, had had some

difficult emotional struggles throughout his own life, and that nothing she shared with him would

ever be used in judgment against her.

Greatly entertained by the stories Brad told about his and his siblings' unerring ability to

wreak havoc and drive their parents to the limits of their endurance, Kylie hoped that she might

someday get to meet these people who were so obviously an important part of not only Brad's

past, but his current life as well. Other than the early years of her mother's attention and love, she

had no real experience of what it must be like to have a whole group of people who belonged to

you, and to whom you belonged, in return…

After settling Kylie down in bed that night, Brad realized that he had inadvertently

cheated her out of the 'wooing phase' a new relationship would normally include. Though she

had no prior experience to use as a comparison, he wanted to make sure that he showed her how

special he thought she was, and so he arranged to take several days off to ensure that they could

have some additional quality time together. He felt it important that they really get to know one

another, because he was fairly certain—even in the short time of their acquaintance—that there

was every chance that she'd be the one that he'd spend the rest of his life with.

Newly armed with a more in-depth understanding of the person that she was, Brad knew

Kylie would not be impressed by grand gestures, or anything that took her too far out of her

comfort zone, especially this early in the relationship. He did, however, want to make sure that

she got to experience the same kind of feelings and activities as any other newly dating couple, at

least as much as was possible under the circumstances.

In deference to the sheltered existence she'd led thus far, he decided that he would serve

as her personal tour guide to their city, rather than making plans to go to some more romantic

settings. This would allow Kylie to maintain some level of comfort, being that she would not

have to be away from home, while still giving them the opportunity to build some great

memories together.

Though loath to leave her for any amount of time, Brad took a quick trip to his office to

sign some papers and take care of a couple of urgent matters, with a detour by his house to pack

several changes of clothes and extra shoes.

When he returned to Kylie's house, he immediately began his campaign to introduce her

to many of the experiences she had been denied over the years.

***

Over the next several days, they went to an indoor ice-skating rink at the mall, meandered

through the stalls at a flea market, where they picked up a simple wood dining table and chairs

for her house, went to a movie, and partook of several other simple but fun outings, including

Kylie's first ever trip to Wal-Mart, for some needed basic kitchenware.

Although some of their activities had been more juvenile than others—such as Brad

pushing Kylie on the swings at the park—they had not really moved toward exploring much of

their dynamic on the Daddy/babygirl spectrum, and up until their trip to the big box store, all of

the time they'd spent together had been enjoyable and unmarred by any unpleasantness. No-one

would have been able to predict that a simple trip to Wal-Mart would ultimately serve as an

important test in determining whether or not their relationship would be able to flourish on all

levels.

The day had started out beautifully. The two of them, tired from their previous busy days,

had lingered in bed, kissing and pleasuring one another to climax, before finally getting up at

around ten thirty. Knowing he'd need to take care of a few pressing business issues later that day,

Brad told Kylie that they'd need to hurry with their plans so he could be back in time for a

conference call he had scheduled for early that afternoon. With that in mind, they'd both dressed

casually and proceeded to a local café for a late breakfast/early lunch, to be followed up by a

quick trip to Wal-Mart.

Upon entering the large discount store, Kylie had been so overwhelmed by the variety of

things to be found, that she told Brad she could spend the whole day there, just exploring the

many shelves and aisles. Knowing she was aware that they were pressed for time, and only there

for a set purpose, Brad had not been expecting her to take off in the opposite direction as he

compared the varying attributes of two sets of non-stick cookware. When he asked her to return,

she kept on moving, calling over her shoulder that she was just going to look at some things, but

would be right back.

Quickly tossing the box of cookware into the cart, choosing that set merely on the basis

of it being the one he was already holding, he walked up behind her quickly, and lifted her into

the back of the cart. Arranging her to sit at the bottom of the cart, he quickly began to make his

way through the store to secure the items that were on his list, encouraging Kylie's compliance

by applying an occasional gentle press to her shoulder whenever she tried to rise.

It was obvious that Kylie was not happy with her current position, and in a moment of

inspiration, Brad veered off to the toy section and grabbed a few items that looked like they'd be

fun for his little girl to play with.

Given that she was clearly fuming over her forced ride in the cart, Brad could only hope

that, by getting her some babygirl appropriate items, she might be able to get into a more

childlike headspace. More importantly, having already seen how she could behave when she

became overwhelmingly upset, it was a move intended to prevent her from having a meltdown

before they left the store.

Kylie was mad at the way Brad had curbed her efforts to explore the giant store, but as he

handed down several items, which turned out to be coloring books, a large box of crayons, a

bright green worm stuffie that lit up, a box of Legos, and a Barbie, she could not help but

become engrossed in examining them. She became so involved in playing with the toys that she

scarcely noticed they were done shopping until her new treasures were taken from her at the

checkout line. Once they were taken to be scanned, Kylie was brought back to the awareness that

she was sitting at the bottom of a shopping cart like a naughty toddler, and her temper began to

flare.

Absolutely furious at his high-handed actions, she already felt embarrassed enough

without further calling attention to herself by haranguing him in the store, so she fumed

inwardly, unaware that her face was skewed into an adorable babygirl pout. Had she realized

how precious he thought she looked, she might not have been able to hold her temper through the

checkout and bumpy trip through the parking lot.

Once the cart stopped rolling, Kylie immediately went to push the items out of her arms

and lap, intending to stand and leap from the cart. Seeing her starting to straddle the side of the

cart, and aware of the potential danger, Brad reacted on autopilot, grabbing Kylie from her

precarious position and setting her on her feet. Then, still holding her by one arm, he used his

free hand to apply three sharp swats to her bottom.

Grabbing her backside with both hands, she turned her shocked face to him, intending to

call him out on how he was treating her. However, as she looked at him, taking in the set of his

mouth and the tick in his jaw, she could clearly make out that he was angry, so she bit back her

comment and started to retreat from him. She wasn't actually scared of him, but she could still

feel the sting of those few swats, and did not want to find out if that had been an actual spanking,

or just a taste of one.

As Kylie backed herself toward the side of the truck, Brad advanced on her, and as soon

as she'd gone as far as she could, he grabbed her by the waist, placed her in her seat, and buckled

her in. Without a word, he returned to the cart and unloaded their purchases.

Still somewhat in shock, Kylie sat quietly as Brad started the truck and drove to the front

of the store, where a clerk was waiting with a large box, which was quickly loaded into the truck

bed. Twisting around, she tried to make out what was in it, but she could not see it clearly

because of how low she sat in the seat. Sensitive to Brad's current mood, she did not want to risk

inciting his ire by getting up so she could peer out the back window; so she contented herself

with the knowledge that she would be able to find out what it was once they got home.

Brad had always been so gentle with her, so this was definitely not something she'd

expected or been prepared for. Sure, he'd mentioned spankings if she were to break any of the

rules they'd agreed on; such as no lying, no hitting, and so on, but talking about something was

very different to experiencing it, and she was not sure how she felt about what had just occurred.

The more she ran the events through her mind, the more indignant she became. He had

treated her very unfairly. Trapping her in the cart as he had, and then smacking her when she

went to get out—that was not nice, she decided, and he should apologize.

Neither Brad nor Kylie had spoken a word during the drive back to her house. Breaking

the silence as he unstrapped her and lifted her to the ground, Brad told her, "I want you to go to

your room, take off your dress, and stand with your nose in the corner. I will be up there as soon

as I get everything in."

This was far from the apology she was expecting, and for a moment, Kylie could not

even react.

Seeing that she was not moving, Brad had turned her around and applied another firm

spank to her bottom, telling her to hurry up and do as she'd been told.

Choking back the sob that threatened to erupt from her throat, Kylie quickly scampered

away from him and through the front door that Brad had already opened. Entering her room, she

immediately dropped to the floor and started to cry. What had happened to her handsome,

wonderful boyfriend? Suddenly he was a horrible, mean person, bullying her, beating her, and

ordering her to stand in the corner with no clothes on.

Sitting on the floor, feeling betrayed and sorry for herself, Kylie was startled when she

heard the front door close. Rather than risking further punishment, she started tearing off her

dress, deciding she would do as he said, and then, once he'd left, she could lock him out of the

house, and never have to see him again.

Clad only in her diaper, Kylie got into the corner only a minute or so before Brad came to

her. She wondered whether he would somehow know she hadn't done what he'd asked right

away, and if that would mean that he would hit her again. Thoughts of him whipping her with a

belt or a paddle ran through her fevered mind, and she began to tremble and cry as she fought to

stay upright, with her nose pressed into the seam between the two walls.

Brad entered the room, initially relieved to find Kylie standing where he'd instructed her

to go. He'd half-expected to find her locked in the bathroom, or ready to do battle with him over

the events of the last couple of hours. However, as he approached her, he could see that her body

was shaking, and she was silently sobbing.

Her demeanor seemed very out of proportion to the circumstances. Yes, he'd given her a

few swats, but they'd been fairly mild, and given over the padding of her diaper, so they could

not be the cause of her current distress.

He knew she was bound to be unhappy with her corner punishment, but her reaction was

much more severe than what he'd have thought would be warranted.

Sitting on the bed, Brad called to her. "Kylie, come here, baby. I want to talk to you".

As she turned to face him, Brad was horrified to see that she actually looked frightened of

him. Rather than coming to him as he expected, she shrank further back into the corner,

wrapping her arms around herself defensively.

He wondered what was causing this behavior. They had thoroughly discussed Kylie's

past, and at no time had she even hinted at any physical abuse, so he did not think that she was

reacting to any triggers of prior unpleasant experiences.

With no clue as to what was causing her to be in such great distress, Brad approached

her, intending to hold and comfort her until she'd calmed down enough to tell him what was

wrong.

Seeing him advancing on her, Kylie was gripped with fear, and she dropped to the floor,

pulling her arms over her head, pleading. "Please don't hit me. I'm sorry. I don't want you to beat

me."

Brad could not believe what he was hearing. Never before had he felt so much at a loss.

Having no idea what would make her think that he would beat her, his face clearly revealed not

only his confusion, but also how much it broke his heart to see her cringing from him in fear.

Scooping her into his arms, he could now feel how much her little body was trembling,

and his only thought was to find a way to calm her and assure her that he would never hurt her.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he gently rocked Kylie in his arms, kissing her head, and

whispering his promise that he would never hurt her.

Once he felt her body unlock from its defensive curl, he pressed her chin upwards until

he could see her face. There was no time to delay in getting this situation under control, and

making sure that Kylie knew she would always be safe with him.

It was slow going, but he was finally able to discern that she had read some of the more

harsh and less tender romance and spanking erotica stories and that, because he'd seemed so

angry and then ordered her to the corner, she was expecting him to follow up his earlier actions

by punishing her with something more substantial and painful than his hand. Rather than being

titillated by such stories, Kylie was terrified, and fully believed punishments administered by

belts, canes, and so on to be sadistic and cruel.

Once he understood her reaction, Brad was able to allay Kylie's fears by promising that

he would never use anything other than his hand to punish her. Had it been necessary, he would

have gone so far as to promise that he would not even spank her with his hand. Fortunately, he

was not pressed to make such a concession, as she made it clear during the discussion that, while

she did not think it would give her any pleasure whatsoever, she did understand and agree that

hand spankings and other punishments—such as time in the corner, or writing lines—were

acceptable consequences, if warranted due to her behavior.

Hating to press the point further after the emotional upheaval they'd already undergone,

Brad feared that the dynamic of their relationship could be forever tainted if he did not make

certain that Kylie understood what she had done to deserve her punishment. Listening to his

description of her earlier behavior, she felt quite chastized, and fully agreed that he had been

right to do the things he had.

Epilogue

Weeks passed, and Brad and Kylie fell into a comfortable routine. Because Brad's home

was larger and fully furnished, they eventually found themselves spending the majority of their

time there, rather than at Kylie's home. At first it was hard for her to be separated from her

familiar surroundings, but she soon came to realize that she could be comfortable anywhere, as

long as Brad was with her.

As her possessions gradually made their way to Brad's house, they eventually did away

with the pretense that they were not living together, and made their arrangement official. Leasing

out, instead of selling, Kylie's house gave her the security of knowing she was not wholly

dependent on Brad, and that she still had somewhere to go, should things not work out between

them.

Their relationship had built at warp speed, but when Kylie accepted Brad's marriage

proposal, they both agreed that a longer engagement would be appropriate, and they set the date

for a year from the day they'd first met.

Though they were already committed and living together, Brad continued to take Kylie

on special dates, wanting to give her all of the things she'd missed out on before.

She loved their outings, but was not as enamored of having to ride to their destinations in

the booster seat, which was what the 'big box' purchase from their infamous Wal-Mart shopping

trip had turned out to be.

Brad was honored to be the one to share each new experience with her, and he felt a little

like Superman every time she looked at him with her beautiful sparkling gray eyes, and a smile

so bright that it lit up her face. Just hearing her cute and giggly laughter was a stark reminder of

how far he'd come from the harsher version of himself, and he liked the person he saw when he

looked in the mirror.

As they settled into their new life together, they found that they were both happiest with a

somewhat offset balance between their big and little relationship.

With confidence borne of being truly loved and supported, Kylie was able to lose some of

her shyness. She would never be too far removed from her Little self, but she found that she

could hold her own when needing to interact with Brad's business associates, and other situations

in which she needed to independently assert herself.

At heart, however, she became more of a Daddy's girl every day, and that part of their

dynamic allowed Brad to maintain the amount of control required by his dominant personality.

He was proudly happy to care for her needs as his babygirl, and more than satisfied with the

opportunity to introduce her adult side to more sensual pleasures, thanking the fates daily that he

had her in his life.

Aside from having a little bit of a temper issue, Kylie was usually a good girl, only

occasionally requiring her Daddy to impose his authority and rein her in. Having more freedom

than ever before in her life, and the added courage to expand her boundaries, she could

sometimes push things a little too far.

To keep their Daddy and babygirl relationship strong, Brad implemented the rule that

Kylie was not to touch her own diapers if he was at home, and that she needed to tell him when

she needed to be changed, or if she needed to use the potty for number twos.

In the beginning, her ingrained reticence about these issues caused her to either break the

rules, or to avoid using the toilet, resulting in even more embarrassing situations… such as

having to use the diaper for number twos, enemas, and bottom binkies, all intended to remind her

that Daddy was in control of her, including her body.

Though loath to ever cause her any distress or pain, Brad judiciously helped her to keep

her sweet disposition, his methods including spankings, and other fitting punishments, whenever

necessary.

Remembering their first experience with discipline, he was careful to implement methods

that were almost entirely well-suited to her childish nature.

Brad's numerous family members, friends and acquaintances were all charmed by Kylie,

and though she was initially overwhelmed by the number of people she needed to interact with,

she soon overcame her nervous fears, and loved having so many wonderful people in her life.

On occasion, the couple would stop by the club that Brad owned with his close friend,

Joshua, but because BDSM was not really part of their dynamic, and ageplay had become so

ingrained into their everyday lives, their visits were generally brief and infrequent.

After some months, having realized that he no longer needed or craved the scenes he had

previously found so titillating, Brad made arrangements to sell his portion of the business to

Joshua, who readily agreed, considering he'd been primarily running the operation on his own

since Brad and Kylie had gotten together anyway.

Thought they didn't frequent the club often, Brad and Kylie's rare appearances did allow

them to meet some similarly defined couples, with whom they were able to develop close

relationships, regularly getting together with them for playdates and dinners.

In addition to their new friends, the couple found themselves becoming very close to

Mara and Joshua, who were already more like family to Brad.

Wholly accepting of their relationship, and grateful for the happiness Brad had found

with Kylie, the other couple adopted both the big and little parts of Kylie into their hearts, and

treated her like a treasured little sister.

Mara was thrilled to be asked to help plan the wedding, and, acting as the mother of the

bride, she helped Kylie organize an event that was fit for a princess. The bride was beautiful in

her modest, flared-skirted dress (to hide the diaper of course), and the groom was the happiest

looking man on earth when he heard the minister say, "I now pronounce you man and wife."

Looking into one another's eyes, they both silently added: "And Daddy and babygirl."

The End

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