Little Samantha's Choice

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Little Samantha's Choice Page 8

by Meredith O'Reilly


  When I stopped crying, Daddy asked, “You ready for your pacifier now, little girl?”

  I looked down at my lap and said, “B-but o-only babies n-need ‘em.”

  My daddy sighed. I knew that was not the answer that he wanted to hear from me.

  “If that’s what you think, fine. I want you to go stand in the corner and don’t touch your bottom until I come back. If I see you touching your bottom, I’ll give you another spanking. Do you understand?”

  I nodded and hopped off of my daddy’s lap. I walked over to the corner and stuck my nose in it.

  When I heard my daddy leave the room, I was tempted to rub my sore bottom to ease the sting from the spanking, but I was too scared that Daddy would come in and spank my bottom even more. But before I had any more time to think about the situation, I heard my daddy come back into the office.

  He was in the office for a couple of minutes, but he still hadn’t called me back over to him. It was making me more and more nervous. Maybe he’s going to spank me again because I wouldn’t use the pacifier. Maybe he’s going to make me stand here forever. I was starting to panic, even though it had only been a few minutes.

  Finally, he said, “Come here, Samantha. I think it’s time for a change in your outfit.”

  I turned and saw that he was holding a pair of Disney Princess training pants and a pink onesie. I slowly walked over to my daddy.

  “Put your arms up.”

  I did and he took off the shirt and bra that I had been wearing. Now I stood naked before him, already having been stripped of my pants and underwear from the spanking.

  “Place your arms on my shoulders and step into your pull-up.”

  I did as I was told, feeling the soft fabric slide up my legs and settle between them.

  “Raise your arms again.”

  I did and my daddy slipped the pink onesie with hearts all over it over my arms and head. He pulled the onesie down my body, and then he snapped the buttons at my crotch. I now looked and felt like a baby more than I ever had before when we were playing.

  “Come sit on my lap, baby girl.”

  I did and my daddy said, “Do you feel like enough of a baby now, little girl? Are you ready to use your pacifier?”

  I was so embarrassed that I couldn’t even speak, so I just nodded.

  “Good. Here it comes.” He made little airplane sounds until he finally popped the pacifier into my mouth. At first, I just kept the pacifier in my mouth, but then I started to suck on it, and then I actually started to like it.

  “There you go. See, little girl. It’s nice to have a pacifier to suck on, instead of your thumb with all those icky germs on it. Now, I think it’s nap time.”

  I wanted to protest, but I had to admit to myself that I had been tired before the spanking, and now after all the crying I had done, I was exhausted.

  Daddy picked me up and I didn’t fight him. He carried me into the nursery where I normally took my naps, except this time, instead of bringing me to the day bed, he carried me to the crib. The rail was already down, and he placed me gently in it and then left. I turned my head to see the stuffed animals that were in the crib. I had never been in here before.

  My daddy was back in a few seconds with Molly and a blanket in his arms. He gave me Molly and I snuggled her close to me. Then he took the pink, soft fleece blanket and wrapped it around me tightly as I watched him while sucking on my pacifier. Then he kissed my forehead, brought the rail of the crib up, and walked out of the nursery, closing the door behind him.

  I lay back in the crib and was surprised and somewhat disturbed about the feelings that it brought me. I couldn’t get out of the crib unless my daddy lowered the railing, but I felt really safe knowing that no one could come in and that I was surrounded by all my stuffed animals and Molly. I was asleep within minutes, contentedly sucking away on my pacifier.

  After that, every time that I had to take a nap, I had to have a pacifier in my mouth.

  I came back to the present in my office, and I swiveled my chair around so I was facing my computer. I glanced at the clock and saw that it was 6:15 p.m. already. Time to go home and tell Jackson the news, I thought to myself, as I organized my desk for the weekend.

  Earlier that day, I had gone to my boss and requested Monday and Tuesday off so I could have a four day weekend. Since it was the first weekend in October, I had told my boss that Jackson had planned a small fall vacation for the two of us. But in truth, I had not been feeling well lately, and due to my company’s recent purchase of a few smaller companies, my boss had given me extra work to do.

  As a result, I had started feeling tired all the time. I constantly had a headache and a sore throat, which was sometimes accompanied by a stomach ache. That was the real reason why I took the extra time off—so that hopefully Jackson would be less angry at me for going to work when I felt sick. I collected all of my work papers and shoved them into my briefcase. Then I turned off my computer, pushed my chair in, grabbed my purse and briefcase, turned off my office lights, and headed home to my daddy.

  Chapter Ten

  Tonight is the night, I thought to myself. Earlier the past week I had begun to wonder if Samantha had not been feeling well, and this morning had confirmed my suspicions. She had woken up looking very pale and her eyes had a glazed look over them. She also kept rubbing her throat as if it caused her pain to speak. I was going to call up her boss and tell him that she couldn’t come into work, but she was out the door before I could.

  I sighed. My little girl just didn’t know how to take care of herself properly. That’s why this weekend I had decided that it was time for her to take the next step in her little role and become dependent on me for her every need.

  I had just finished adding all the ingredients to my homemade chicken noodle soup. I wanted it to sit for a while, so I got up and headed into the nursery to make sure that I had everything ready for what I had planned for tonight.

  At 7 p.m. I heard the garage door being opened, so I walked into the laundry room and waited for Samantha to come in. She opened the door and I could tell that she was exhausted. The outfit that she had on—a black skirt, dark blue top, and black pantyhose—definitely didn’t look comfortable.

  “Hi, little girl. How was your day at work?” I asked, already knowing what her answer was going to be as she kicked her high heels off and placed her purse and briefcase on the dryer.

  “It was good. You know, same old stuff,” she said, as she walked into my open arms.

  I placed a kiss on her head. I wasn’t going to let her get away with lying to me. “Sweetie, are you feeling okay? You look a little pale,” I said, bringing my hand to her forehead, trying to tell if she had a temperature or not.

  “Okay, so I haven’t been feeling that great. But, you will be happy to know that I took next Monday and Tuesday off so I have an ample amount of time to get better,” she admitted to me.

  I was not expecting that, but I was very pleased. That would give her even more time to act as my little girl. When she let out a yawn, I decided that it was time to get things moving.

  “Okay, sweetie. Why don’t you go wash your hands and change out of your work clothes while I finish getting dinner ready.”

  “Okay,” she said, walking out of my embrace and going upstairs to change.

  I went back into the kitchen and poured two heaping amounts of chicken noodle soup into two bowels, and then I placed them on the table along with drinks, napkins, and spoons.

  A few minutes later, Samantha came down dressed in a pair of yoga pants and a green sweat shirt. I knew that they were some of her comfy clothes, but she wouldn’t be wearing them for long.

  We sat down and ate out soup in relative silence. Samantha looked like she was concentrating on something else, and I didn’t want to disturb her. When she finished her dinner, I told her to go lie down on the couch while I finished cleaning up.

  As I washed the few dishes from dinner, my mind was preoccupied with what I h
ad planned for my darling wife. I had just finished cleaning the pot and decided that now was the time to really treat my wife like my own baby, so I walked into the living room and scooped a half asleep Samantha into my arms.

  “Where are we going?” she murmured against my chest.

  “I’m just getting you ready for bed. Relax, baby girl, and let Daddy do all the work.”

  She closed her eyes again and hummed her compliance.

  I walked into our bathroom and placed her down on the toilet while I started getting the bath ready for her. I put some bubble bath along with some of her toys into the rising water.

  When her bath was ready, I undressed her and then helped her into the tub. I took my time, washing every inch of her body and hair. While I was busy doing that, she drew a picture of us on the bathroom wall with some bath crayons.

  “Look, Daddy! It’s us!” she said, pointing to the two people.

  “Yes, it is. I love your artwork.”

  “Thank you, Daddy.”

  “Now, sweetie, it’s time to get out of the bathtub.”

  “Five more minutes!”

  “Okay. Five more minutes. I’ll be right back. I have to go and get something.”

  “Okay.” Samantha said, not really paying attention to me. She had moved on from bath crayons to playing with her Ariel doll.

  I ran to my study and picked up the new towel that I had just bought Samantha. It had three Disney Princesses on it. I knew that she would love it. I walked back into the bathroom and said, “Alright, missy. Time to get out.”

  “Fine,” she grumbled, stepping out of the bathtub and into my open arms.

  I snuggled the towel tightly around her and then began to dry off her wet body.

  “Daddy! Look, there’s Belle and Cinderella and Jasmine!” she said, excitedly, looking at the princesses printed on her towel.

  “You’re right, baby girl,” I said, hugging her closely and blowing kisses on her cheeks.

  She started to giggle as I sat her in the bathroom chair and brushed out her long blonde locks. It didn’t take me all that long, and by the time that I was done, Samantha was starting to doze off again. Here comes the first hard part of the evening, I thought, as I lifted her up and carried her into the nursery.

  As I gently laid her down on the changing table, she began to focus more and she realized where she was. I quickly put a pacifier in her mouth to try and placate her while I got the diaper, wipes, cream, baby powder, and pink footie pajamas out of the dresser. She was watching me with big eyes, and I was frightened that she was ready to protest.

  She started to sit up, but I put a hand on her shoulder, stopping her movement so I could explain to her why I was planning to do what I was about to do. I just hoped that she wouldn’t freak out.

  * * *

  “You’re not feeling well, little girl. Remember what I told you when we started role playing?”

  I nodded, remembering the exact conversation that he was talking about.

  “I told you that when you aren’t feeling well, I would regress you to a younger age to be able to take care of you better. For at least tomorrow, and maybe the rest of the weekend, I want to regress you to about a sixteen month baby. That means that I would like you to wear and use a diaper for that time. If you really don’t want to, say so now, but if you say nothing now, I will expect you to use this. Are you okay with that?”

  I looked up into my husband’s face and he had that look on his face again. The look that showed if I said no, it would crush all of his hopes and dreams. Before I could think about anything, I was nodding in agreement.

  “You’re the best little girl in the world. You won’t have to worry about anything this weekend, except getting better. Daddy will make sure of that,” he said as he gently pushed me down onto the changing table.

  I felt my face turning red at knowing what was about to happen. I knew that stupid look of his was going to get me to do crazy things, I thought to myself. I closed my eyes, not wanting to watch myself be diapered. This is for my husband. I can do this, I kept telling myself.

  He picked my legs up, and carefully put the diaper underneath my butt. Then he placed my legs back down so I was sitting on the diaper. He slowly wiped down my pussy and my bottom hole with one of the wipes. He put lotion all around the same area and baby powder. Then he pulled the diaper over my front area and taped it snuggly closed.

  I opened my eyes when he made me sit up and he put a pair of pink footie pajamas on me. I looked down at myself and decided that I really looked and felt like a real baby now. My legs could barely touch together because the diaper was so bulky. I didn’t know how I felt about this. I wanted to please my husband, but at the same time, I was a twenty-five-year-old wearing a diaper. Needless to say, I was on the verge of having a panic attack. This was seriously pushing my boundaries, but I wasn’t sure what to do about it.

  Daddy broke me out of my thoughts by picking me up and placing me on my feet. “Come on, sweetie, I have another surprise for you,” he said, taking my hand and leading me out of the nursery.

  We walked out of the nursery, hand in hand. With every step, I could hear a loud crinkling noise and I could feel that I was walking a little funny with the new bulkiness between my legs. I just kept thinking, If anyone sees me, they will know exactly what I am wearing.

  We walked into the family room and I saw a brand new baby swing chair that was right in front of the TV. How did I miss this earlier? I wondered. White bars supported the swing, and the swing was pink with white safety straps, and it was reclined back so a person could relax. Obviously, it was made for adults.

  “Baby, I’m going to put you in this for a while I finish getting everything else ready,” my daddy said as he picked me up and put me in the chair. He buckled me into the swing, and I watched him turn on the TV, and then a Barney episode started playing. I began watching the episode, not having seen Barney since I was a little kid.

  As my daddy was walking out of the room, he pressed a button on top of the swing and all of a sudden, the swing started swinging. The soothing motion immediately began to relax me, and I could feel myself sink farther into the comfy softness.

  As I sat there in the rocking swing and watched Barney, my first thought was how carefree I felt. I still felt really embarrassed to be wearing a diaper and watching a Barney episode while sucking on a pacifier, but at the same time, I knew that I had nothing to worry about because I knew that Daddy would take care of everything for me. That resulted in me feeling very tranquil.

  I shifted in my seat to get more comfortable and as I shifted, I started to feel the need to go to the bathroom. I decided to ignore it and just lay back and watch Barney, BJ, and Baby Bop sing their songs.

  Once the episode ended, my need to go to the bathroom was starting to become more noticeable. Any little movement caused my bladder to ache.

  Daddy came back and unbuckled me from the swing. “Did you like your Barney episode, baby girl?”

  I nodded and he smiled at me.

  “Did you wet your diaper?”

  I shook my head, but my daddy still gave my front a squeeze. When he heard the crinkling, he knew that I hadn’t used it yet.

  “Okay. Now let’s go get your bottle, and I’ll put you to bed.”

  I really didn’t want a bottle. I wanted to use the bathroom.

  Daddy carried me into the nursery, and I saw there was a bottle of warm milk next to the rocking chair.

  When he sat down in the rocking chair and took my pacifier out, I quickly said, “Daddy, I need to use the bathroom.”

  “Sweetie, you’re a baby right now and babies use their diapers. When you use yours, the petals on the flowers will turn from red to blue and I’ll know that you need a change. Now, drink your bottle and relax, sweetie. You have nothing to worry about when Daddy is here.”

  With that being said, he popped the bottle of warm milk into my mouth. Halfway through drinking the bottle, I could barely move from the pres
sure that my full bladder was causing me. I really needed to go to the bathroom, but I couldn’t use the diaper. I was all for pleasing my husband, but this was taking it a step too far.

  Noticing my pained look, Daddy pulled the bottle from my mouth and said, “Sweetie, please just relax and use your diaper. You will feel so much better. Trust me to take care of you. You can do this. Close your eyes and just let go.”

  I tried to do that. I closed my eyes and tried to relax my muscles, but I just couldn’t do it. I had been potty trained for about twenty-three years; I couldn’t just start using a diaper now.

  Then my mind flashed back to the last time I had wet the bed. I had been five years old and had wet the bed on accident for three nights straight because I kept having a nightmare about being in a car accident. I had woken my mom up in the middle of the night to tell her what had happened, and she had been very angry at me because it had been the third night in a row that I had woken her up about my wet sheets. She got up with me, changed my sheets, and then yelled at me, saying that I was a five-year-old girl and should know how to not wet the bed. I went to sleep crying that night. The next night, when I was getting ready for bed, I made a promise to myself that no matter what day or night, I would always use a toilet to go to the bathroom and not pee the bed.

  Just to make sure though that I didn’t have an accident, after everyone was asleep, I went into the linen closet and pulled out six towels. I laid the towels under me and thought that even if I did wet the bed, I would only wet the towels and I could wash them before my mom found out. I don’t know if it was the fear that my mom would yell at me again or if having the towels as extra protection helped me relax, but from that night on, I never wet the bed again.

  I felt my daddy caress my face as I opened my eyes. He had a troubled look on his face. “What’s wrong, baby girl? Why are you crying? This isn’t a punishment.”

  I hadn’t realized I was crying until I lifted my right hand and felt the tears on my face. “I’m s-sorry,” I whispered, placing my head on his chest, not wanting to look at him right then.

 

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