A nipple taps my lips again, and I accept it because it’s easier to accept than the thought of doctors and nurses in the room while I’m so Little. I like the Daddy dream better.
The large hand finds my bladder and presses. “You need to pee, Baby girl. You’ve held it too long.”
I squirm, whimpering again. That voice is familiar but also not. As if I’ve met him before but only once. If he’s the Daddy in my dream, then I can’t have met him. He’s from a book. He’s not real.
When he presses on my bladder again, I almost pee myself. I squirm and moan around the pacifier.
“Let it go, Little one. If you don’t, I’ll have to put a catheter in you. It’s not safe to hold your urine this long.”
Here? He wants me to pee right here? Now? Is he holding a urinal between my legs? I don’t feel the plastic though. Just softness. Thick soft material that is keeping my thighs parted.
I suckle the pacifier harder, rationalizing that the pacifier for sure can’t be real, so neither can the man encouraging me to wet myself. It’s all a dream. A dream I conjured from reading too many age-play romances.
Praying I’m not literally wetting the bed, I relax the muscles at the base of my bladder and let the pee-pee flow out of me. It feels so good. I really needed to go.
The soft material between my legs grows warm and wet, scaring me for a moment before I remind myself it’s not real. It’s a dream. All of this is a dream.
“That’s my good girl,” praises the Daddy in my head. “I’ll change this diaper and get some more medicine in you, and you can go back to sleep.”
I suckle the pacifier to remind myself it’s still in my mouth, soothing me, reminding me all of this is a dream. I don’t even flinch as the dream Daddy opens the diaper and cleans my skin with a warm cloth.
I don’t fight against him as he slides a fresh diaper under my hips before pushing my thighs wider and holding them parted with one hand. It must be a huge hand.
I do flinch when something touches the tight muscles of my rectum, but then force myself to relax because it feels good when Daddy pushes the medicine into my bottom. It feels so good I don’t want him to stop.
My face is hot. I’m moaning and panting. Desperate need consumes me again. I want to touch my titties. I want to pluck them and twist them until I come. I’m frustrated by the restraints I’ve obviously added to the dream.
It’s my dream. Why can’t I poof the cuffs out of existence? I could go back a few chapters in the book and choose a different path, one where I masturbate until I come. This intense sexual frustration is unnerving.
Maybe I am touching myself, and it’s not enough to make me come. There seem to be odd layers to this dream.
I shudder when the Daddy eases his finger out of my bottom and nearly cry when he closes the diaper around me, not giving me the relief I crave.
A moment later, his mouth wraps around my nipple again. Thank God. I’m back at the top of the cliff in seconds. So close. He’s so damn good at this, flicking my nipple rapidly before sucking it in hard and deep. It’s almost painful.
If I had a nipple ring, I would surely have come by now, especially with this Daddy flicking it with his tongue.
I moan, the sound muffled by the pacifier.
Something nicks my skin. Something sharp. It pierces my titty and takes my breath away. He’s lapping at it, making the booboo feel better. And then I’m fading. Sliding back into a deep sleep.
No. No no no. I need to come. I didn’t get to come.
I can’t stop it though. Sleep is sucking me under.
ChapterSix
Janie
So tired. It’s hard to wake up. I don’t want to. I want to sleep. Why won’t everyone just let me sleep? I keep waking up to the same thing. It makes no sense. Every time I come almost to the surface, I find my mouth filled with a nipple. I suck down another bottle, someone changes my diaper, a huge finger puts medicine into my bottom, and then I fall back asleep.
None of it can be real, but I’m never awake enough to ensure I’m right. It all seems so very real, but there’s no logic to it.
I’m coming closer to the surface this time. I can feel it. I’m less confused. Maybe my fever broke. I’m sweating and chilled too, so my fever definitely broke.
“Open your eyes for me, Baby girl.” It’s that voice again. The Daddy in my dreams. I really need to see him.
I squirm, trying hard to wake up.