“I’m glad that you liked them. You can wear another pair tonight if you want.”
I got a nervous feeling in my stomach. What if he wants me to dress up as a baby again?
I must have had my emotions written all over my face because he said, “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just want to make you feel as comfortable as possible, especially when I can tell that you’re still not feeling well.”
I looked at his face and I felt terrible. He looked so afraid. I decided that I could put my own feelings aside on this topic if it would make my husband feel better.
“Okay, Jackson. If you don’t mind, I’d like to wear another pair of those pajamas, but minus the other item.” My cheeks heated up when thinking about the diaper again. I looked up at him and saw that he did look more relieved than before.
“Okay, sweetie. How about if you go watch television while I clean everything up and go and get you another pair of pajamas to wear?”
“Thanks,” I said, getting up and going over to the family room.
I lay down on the couch, turned the TV to the food channel, and attempted to watch it. But even though I had been asleep for nearly the past forty eight hours, I still felt exhausted—partially because of this new discovery with my husband. I decided that I was just going to close my eyes for a few minutes.
Half an hour later, Jackson woke me. “Here you go, sweetie,” he said, handing me a light blue pair of footie pajamas.
I sat up, rubbing my eyes, and took the pajamas. “Thanks. I’ll be right back,” I said, getting up and walking toward the downstairs bathroom. The walls in that room were a light pink, and there was a toilet and sink on one side, with a mirror above the sink. Opposite that side were two small pictures of a beach.
I washed my hands, then keeping my bra and panties on, I slipped the footie pajamas on. When I finished changing, I looked in the mirror. These don’t look so bad, I thought. I looked at my clothes, decided I would pick them up later, and headed back to the family room.
As I plopped down on the couch next to Jackson, he turned towards me and asked, “Can I hold you?”
“Of course you can. I told you, you’re still my husband, and I love you, even with your unusual… likes.”
He burst out laughing, and I gave him a confused look.
He quickly stopped laughing and said, “Sorry. I couldn’t help but laugh at your unique way of saying my liking for age play.” He picked me up and then sitting down with me in his lap, he began to rub long strokes up and down my back as I laid my head on his shoulder.
“I’m so sorry again, Samantha, for upsetting you. If I were you, when I woke up this afternoon, I would have run away screaming, as fast as I could.”
I had my eyes closed and I was starting to become very sleepy. “It’s okay. I’m not mad,” I said, yawning loudly.
“I love you so much, baby,” he said and kissed the top of my head.
“I love you too, Jackson.”
“I think it’s time for bed,” he said, right before he picked me up. He carried me up to bed, pulled away the covers, placed me down, and pulled the covers back up, tucking them right underneath my chin. He kissed the top of my head and said, “Sweet dreams, baby girl.”
I closed my eyes, no longer able to keep them open, and was soon fast asleep.
Chapter Four
A month had passed since I had found out about Jackson’s secret age play fetish. Things had finally gone back to normal between us, for the most part, but we hadn’t had sex since I found out about his fetish. Every time he started to touch me, all I could picture in my mind was myself dressed up as a baby. Picturing myself as a baby was a huge turn off for me, and so I told him that I had work to do or that I was too tired to have sex.
After two weeks, he finally got the message that I was still freaked out about what had happened, and he stopped attempting to touch me. Besides that, everything was normal in our lives. We would go on walks after dinner, the cool September air starting to push the ends of summer away as it brought in the cool temperatures of fall.
It was a Friday night again as I pulled into the garage. Jackson was on a business trip and wouldn’t be back until tomorrow morning. That meant that I had the house to myself for the night, and I intended to use the time wisely. After thoroughly thinking about the time that I had been sick and treated like a baby, I realized that he must have baby supplies somewhere in the house, and I wanted to find them. The thought that my husband had baby supplies in our house, and that he’d probably had them for our entire marriage seemed downright creepy.
I had just finished reading the two books that he had given me about age play relationships. The first book was about the fundamentals of an age play relationship, and everything that I had read made sense. Even the part about how if the little broke a rule or was acting like a brat, the big normally gave the little a bare bottom spanking or punished the little in some other way. I liked that there was also an explanation of how the attraction of role playing came from the control that the little gave to the daddies or mommies, and that the little got off on being able to relax and just let themselves be who they wanted to be, without anyone judging them.
The second book was a fictional story about two consenting adults and age play. I had surprisingly liked it. The story was about two main characters who respected each other, were married, and each main character had boundaries while role playing. The couple respected the other’s boundaries and as a result, both characters were extremely happy, and their marriage and age play relationship flourished.
But what was even more shocking was I that had begun to fantasize about how much fun and relaxing it would be to play with dolls again, or to color, or even to watch a movie with my daddy and to cuddle with him. I would snap out of those thoughts and remind myself that I was an adult and not a little girl. It made me wonder if I was normal. A normal person would not be having such thoughts or entertaining the idea of actually starting to role play in this lifestyle. I always ended up shaking my head and telling myself that I could worry about possibly not being normal later.
After reading those two books, I had to admit that they made me realize that the age play lifestyle wasn’t as unpleasant as I thought it originally was.
I walked into my house, taking my shoes off in the laundry room, then walking into the kitchen and placed my briefcase and purse on one of the wooden kitchen chairs. I went straight to the refrigerator, pulling out the lasagna that Jackson had made for me, and put it in the oven.
As the lasagna heated up, I ran upstairs to go shower and change into my pajamas. When I came back downstairs freshly cleaned from my shower, I pulled the lasagna out of the oven, cut a nice square piece for myself, and put it on a plate. I put the plate on the table, along with a fork, wineglass, and a napkin. I grabbed a bottle of red wine, opened it, and poured myself a glass.
As I took my first delicious bite, my phone suddenly rang, and I answered it on the third ring, not bothering to check the caller ID, already knowing who it would be.
“Hello,” I answered with a chuckle. Think about your husband and he shall call you.
“I haven’t even said anything yet and my wife is laughing at me. I must be good,” he joked on the other line.
I continued to laugh some more.
“Hi, baby,” he greeted me with a chuckle once I stopped laughing.
“Hi. How is your trip going?” I asked, taking another bite of the lasagna.
“It’s pretty boring. I miss you.”
“I miss you too,” I said, taking a sip of my wine.
“How was your day?” he asked.
“Really busy. I had a full staff meeting that took up most of my day. We’re buying a few smaller companies, so we have to plan out who will be doing what in order to make sure that their transitions into our company are as smooth as possible. How about you?”
“My day was similar to yours, very busy. I met with my biggest client, who owns several different
restaurant chains. He liked what I did so much with one of his chains that he is going to let me design all the websites for every one of his restaurant chains.”
“That’s fantastic, Jackson! I’m so happy for you!”
“Thanks, sweetie. I couldn’t believe that he asked me to design more websites either. I didn’t realize he liked the first website I made for him because he always just grunted whenever I talked to him on the phone.”
“Huh. I wonder how he ever became so successful if he only grunted to communicate… So, you’re definitely coming home tomorrow?”
“Yes. I should hopefully be home just in time for breakfast.”
“That sounds good to me,” I said, taking the last bite of my lasagna.
“Okay. I have to go,” he said, sounding upset at having to stop talking to me.
“Alright. ‘Night, Jackson. I love you.”
“Goodnight, baby. I love you too. Sweet dreams.”
I ended the call, put my dishes in the dish washer, and decided it was time to find Jackson’s stash of baby supplies.
We had a kitchen, family room, dining room, front room, laundry room, and a bathroom on the first floor. I checked the rooms on the first floor to see if they would give any clue as to where he might be hiding his baby supplies, but I found nothing. Then I headed upstairs, where there was the master bedroom, bathroom, and closet, guest bedroom and bathroom, and Jackson’s study to search.
I decided that the best place to start looking was his study. As I reached the top of the stairs, I was faced with two doors: the door on the left was the guest bedroom and the door on the right was the guest bathroom. I would search those rooms later if I didn’t find anything.
I walked down the upstairs hallway and stared at the two doors at the end of the hall. The door to the left would open to the master bedroom while the door on the right opened to Jackson’s study.
I opened the right door and stepped into his study. It seemed like a normal looking office. A huge oak desk and leather chair dominated the room, and off to the side there was a leather couch and bookcase, filled with books about the internet and historical battles.
Behind the desk there was a white door, and I stared at it. I had completely forgotten about the room over the garage. The only way to access this room was through Jackson’s office.
With the sinking feeling that what I was searching for was behind that door, I took a deep breath and opened it. I was not prepared for what I saw.
“Oh. My. Gosh!” I said in complete shock.
Chapter Five
When I opened the door I was not expecting to find what I did. The walls were a light pink with white trim on the top and bottom, and the room smelled like baby powder. To my left there was a big dresser and on top of it was a changing pad. I walked over to it and pulled open all of the drawers to discover bottles, pacifiers, Disney Princess underwear, those super comfy footie pajamas, socks, some other clothes, and diapers. I then closed all the drawers, turning my attention to the changing pad. It was white and was rather large, and I knew I could easily fit on top of it. I felt it, and it felt soft. Overall, it just looked like a regular changing table, except that it was made for adults.
At the end of the room, on the left side, there was a chest filled with toys. Near the chest was a doll house and a pile of dolls.
I hadn’t played with a dollhouse or dolls in years. I had loved my dollhouse and dolls when I was growing up, but my mother had given them away to charity when I was ten years old. My mom had told me that I was too old to be playing with a dollhouse and dolls and some poor little girl would have more fun playing with them.
I remembered how heartbroken I had been. Despite what my mother had said, I had still loved playing with dolls and my dollhouse at ten years old. But she wouldn’t listen to me. I had cried in my room for an entire weekend until my dad gave me a doll. I had been so happy, but he made me promise not to let my mother ever find it. I promised and secretly would play with my doll, always having a blast with her. I still had that doll; it was packed away in a box somewhere in our storage unit.
I shook my head, breaking myself out of my thoughts as I looked around the room. On the opposite side of the chest there was a bookcase filled with little kid books. In between the chest and bookcase was a huge rocking chair with pink pillows on it. On the right side of the room were two beds. One bed had rails around it, and I realized that it was a crib—another piece of baby furniture made for adults. It even had a mobile hanging above it. But the second bed was what caught my eye. It was a day bed with a canopy above it, and on the bed were a bunch of stuffed animals! In the center, there was an American Girl doll. It was the Molly American Girl doll!
I ran over, jumped on the bed, grabbed Molly, and gave her a big hug. As a little girl, I had read all the American Girl books. I had always wanted an American Girl doll, but my parents had told me that they would not buy one for me because it would be a waste of their money and I would quickly get tired of playing with it.
That didn’t matter now because I finally had one, and I was going to take very good care of her, like every good mommy should.
I froze. How had my thoughts turned to ones of a little girl so fast? I knew that Jackson was interested in this type of role play, but I wasn’t. I had decided this past week that I would try to play along to please him, but that was it. I wasn’t that into age play, so why had I begun thinking like a little girl? It must be because of this room, I thought.
I decided, though, that since I had never been able to experience having an American Girl doll when I was young, that it would be okay if I acted as a mommy to my doll now. I would play for a while and then leave the room, and no one would be the wiser that I had played—let alone gone—in this room. It would be my secret.
“It’s getting late now, Molly. I think that it’s time for a story, and then it’s bedtime.”
Still holding Molly, I got up off the bed and went over to the bookcase. I picked out a book about a princess and a pea and then went back to the bed with the canopy, pulled back the covers, and got into bed. I pulled the covers to my chin and snuggled close to Molly. Propping the pillows up behind me, I began to read the story out loud to Molly. As I was reading, my eyes started to feel heavy, and pretty soon I was fast asleep.
* * *
I walked through the front door at 7:15 in the morning. I was wiped, but happy to be home. I couldn’t wait to see Samantha. Ever since she found out about my fetish, our relationship had been strained, and I was anxious to find a way to get things back to normal.
I climbed the stairs, pulling at the collar of my tie. I decided that I would change first, then go make breakfast and surprise my wife with breakfast in bed. Hopefully that would be a step in the right direction to get our marriage back on track.
I walked into our bedroom and stopped short when Samantha wasn’t in bed. She never got up earlier than 9:00 a.m. on the weekends. I changed as fast as I could and went searching for my wife.
I searched the entire house except my study, as I didn’t think Samantha would go in there because she only did when she wanted to take a nap on my couch when I was working. A knot began to form in my stomach, and before I even entered my study, I knew that she had found the nursery.
About a year after Samantha and I had been living in our house, I began thinking about what I could use that room for, and I had instantly realized it could be a nursery. Once the thought was in my head, it was all I could think about. Pretty soon I had painted the walls and even replaced the carpeting. Then I had bought all the furniture for it. I knew that I would never be able to share the room with Samantha, but a part of me had secretly hoped that one day I would be able to.
I walked into my study and saw that the nursery door was indeed open. Slowly, I proceeded toward the open door and stopped in my tracks when I walked past the doorway. My adorable wife was curled up in the day bed, snuggling the American Girl doll that I had bought for her. There was a book on th
e ground next to the bed that she must have been reading before she fell asleep.
The sight was identical to dreams that I’d had, and I pinched myself to make sure that I was awake. The only thing that would have made it better was if I could have walked into the room and Samantha had called me daddy. I sighed but instead of dwelling on something I knew I could never have, I just stared at my magnificent wife.
Finally, after ten minutes I decided that I had drunk my fill of the image and it was time to wake Samantha up. I didn’t want her to have to hide the fact that she had found out about this room because I knew that would cause even more stress for her.
I sat on the side of the bed and gently shook her shoulder. When she just grunted at me, I decided to pepper little kisses all over her face. When I pulled my head back, I couldn’t help but smile at her expression. She pretty much always had a smile on her face when she woke up. I gave her a couple of moments to wake up more and remember where she was. When her face went from happy to mortified, I decided that I should start talking.
“So, I see that you finally found my secret room.”
“I um… yes.”
I noticed tears in her eyes and then she turned her face to the side so she wouldn’t have to look at me. That crushed me. I always wanted my wife to turn towards me when she was hurt, not away.
“Please don’t be embarrassed or cry, Samantha. I’m happy that you found this room. I’ve been wanting to show it to you for a long time,” I said as I began to softly caress her face. “What do you think about all of this?” I asked, wanting her to focus on something else instead of how I had found her.
Little Samantha's Choice Page 4