I’m confused when he reaches across my body and pulls something up from the far side. And then I whimper when he lifts my hand and wraps something around my wrist. It’s a wide nylon strap, and he pulls it across my belly next before wrapping it around my other wrist and securing it to the side of the changing table.
I squirm, finding myself very restrained. My heart rate picks up as my nipples stiffen, and my panties grow damp. Dammit. My reaction to restraints is going to be my downfall.
Daddy strokes my cheek. “Lie still, baby girl. The straps will keep you from rolling off the table when I change you.”
I swallow a moan and squeeze my thighs together. The moment he removes my panties, he’s going to find my state of arousal. Besides, he already knows what to expect when he restrains me.
His voice is soothing when he speaks again, still stroking my cheek. “I can add a second strap across your chest if you’d like, baby girl. Yeah?”
I almost cry as I nod. I’m a ball of nerves, but I’ll feel much better about using a diaper if I’ve been bound so completely it’s out of my control. As if it somehow won’t be my fault I had to pee in a diaper.
Daddy reaches across the table and pulls a second strap over my body. It’s just as wide as the first one, about three inches, and it flattens over my breasts when he pulls it securely to the other side.
My boobs are small, so it’s not as if they are squished, but my nipples are sensitive, and the nylon rubs against them with every movement.
“There.” Daddy leans over and kisses my forehead. “My baby girl isn’t going anywhere now, is she?”
I don’t respond to his rhetorical question. Instead I start panting as every tiny flinch heightens my arousal. On top of that new problem, I still need to pee.
Daddy sets a hand on my tummy and rubs gently, his gaze on mine. “You’ve always enjoyed restraints and reacted strongly to them. I expect you’ll enjoy the increased restrictions that come with regression.”
Daddy moves to the end of the table, removes my sandals, and pulls my panties off. He taps my pussy with his fingers. “This hair has to go, baby girl. Do you want me to remove it before or after you go potty?”
I consider his question and realize I can’t wait any longer to pee. “After, please, Sir.” I don’t always address him as Sir, but when I’m restrained or being reprimanded, it comes naturally. The moment I’m bound in any way, I become very submissive. I wonder how many ways I’m going to find myself restrained during this regression.
Daddy lifts my bottom slightly and slides a crinkly diaper under me. He spreads my thighs wider and pulls the front of the diaper up between my legs.
I moan as he pulls it tight and fastens it closed. It hadn’t occurred to me the diaper itself would feel restrictive, like its own type of bondage. I’m instantly so horny I might come. I’m shaking, my legs kicking out involuntarily as I slide into subspace.
Daddy sets his hand on the bulky material between my spread thighs and rubs my pussy slowly as he comes to my side. His other hand settles on my cheek. “Deep breaths, baby girl.”
I try to pull in air, but I can’t. I’m panting.
Daddy’s hand continues to press against my pussy. It’s not enough to get me off with all the thick padding between his fingers and my clit, but it’s enough to drive me crazy with need.
“Do you know how good Little girls are rewarded when they wet their diapers?” he asks.
I can’t think. I can’t even fully focus on him when I try to. I shake my head.
He leans closer and kisses me on the lips before nibbling a path to my ear. “If you’re a good girl and you let go of your bladder control for me, I’ll let you come when I change you, baby girl.”
I suck in a breath. He’s going to let me orgasm when he removes this diaper? “Every time?” I ask tentatively. Surely not.
He chuckles and tickles under my chin. “I will usually give you pleasure when I change your diaper, baby girl. Unless we’re in a hurry or someplace inappropriate, but…” He hesitates as if making sure I’m paying attention.
I hold his gaze, not blinking. This may very well be the most important thing I need to know for the entire summer.
He smiles. “I won’t necessarily change you ever time you let a tiny dribble come out. It doesn’t work that way. Sometimesyou’ll have to wait. It’s important you learn patience too. Daddy decides when you get changed. Not Melody.”
I gulp. He’s going to leave me wet sometimes. The idea makes me squirm. Good grief. What is happening to me? Before I can let my nerves take over once again, Daddy presses against my pussy and rubs hard.
I push against the changing table with my heels, lifting my bottom the few inches possible.
Instead of giving me the friction I need, Daddy’s hand disappears.
He slides it up to my belly, finds my bladder, and presses down.
I gasp, wiggling in attempt to get away from his probing fingers. “Daddy…” I whimper.
