Because this entry is 30-some-odd pages long, I have broken it down into segments.
This is segment three of three.
Entry 9 – October 29th (continued)
She ran her fingertips through my hair which was still damp, but had started to dry. She took long strokes straightening my hair out and along the way she massaged my scalp with her nails. It felt incredible.
Then, she took a brush to my hair, starting up at my forehead and slowing tracing my scalp down to my neck, following all the way to the tips of my hair. Again and again, she stroked my hair. That not only felt incredible, but it was heavenly. I didn’t want her to stop.
I closed my eyes, reveling in all the sensations that my other four senses were sending to me:
I heard the TV and all the stupid football sounds it was making. (I would imagine some day, I’ll find a little bit of interest in watching football. It’s obvious to me now that Zeke will never stop watching it. He said his beloved Chiefs are on the rebound and will be back to good before long.) But closer to me, I also heard the faint whispered voices of Zeke and Keira as they began trading more secrets about me, I imagined. (There’s a bit of peace that I find in knowing that Zeke can talk to another girl without making me jealous. I know I can trust him. And besides, it seemed he was talking about me when he and Keira began whispering.)
I could taste the warm milk. It’s a flavor that I love and can’t get enough of, especially when the milk is warm because I know that I’ll be asleep on Zeke’s chest or in my crib before long.
I could smell the “Zeke smell” (as I call it) coming from his chest. It’s a scent that I crave. It always makes me want to be as close to him as possible. Zeke once told me about pheromones and how they attract people. Well … I think his pheromones are doing the trick when it comes to me. But I also smelled the scent my shampoo had left on my hair. It was a sweet scent that I also craved. And still my nose took in a third scent. It was the faint trace of powder. It always reminded me that I had been changed recently. And that reminder reminded me that I was his BabyGirl.
And that left the sense of touch. Keira’s fingertips, added with the brush she was taking through my hair, were doing wonderful things to my scalp. It was a massage I was definitely going to train Zeke to do to me on a regular basis. I could feel Zeke’s arms around me and the material of his shirt sleeve that my neck was resting on. I also felt the nightie over my body and the diaper around my waist. They were very soft and served as another reminder that I was his BabyGirl. But I guess the greatest reminder of that always came from his gentle patting of my diapered bottom. This moment was no different.
I felt like the luckiest BabyGirl in the whole world. I was wrapped in softness, surrounded with love and warmth, treated and cared for like a little baby, given all the attention I wanted and made comfortable in every way possible. What more could a BabyGirl ask for?
Well … as I finished my bottle, I found out that the next thing I needed was to be burped. Keira took the bottle into the kitchen as Zeke sat the chair up and rested me up against his chest. I put my head on his shoulder and watched Keira at the kitchen sink as she washed the bottle out.
The pats on my diapered bottom became pats on the middle of my back. I placed my right arm around his neck and my left hand on his shoulder, gripping his shirt with a tiny fist. I was so happy I didn’t know how to show it. All I knew was that I didn’t want to this evening to end and I would probably do anything at that moment to prevent it from ending.
Grant got up from the couch to use the bathroom. I watched him as he walked passed. My eyes returned to Keira who had finished washing the bottle and was now leaning up against the sink, watching me get burped. Her folded arms and maternal smile made me smile back at her. How did I get so lucky to have found a friend like her?
Grant returned and glanced at me as he passed by. He winked and I waved at him innocently. I think I was getting used to him. Besides, Pretzel had spent the entire evening on his lap and if she liked him that meant that he was a good guy.
Finally I let out a small set of burps. It relieved the pressure in my tummy and relaxed me. I remained in Zeke’s arms as he watched the game. I knew that stupid football time was important to him and even though it took his attention away from me, I never interfered. He needed his “guy time”. I simply lied there and looked up at him with all the love I had within me.
But as he watched the game, he looked down me, again and again, and would trace my eyebrows with his fingertips. I especially loved when he did this. Then he lightly drew his fingers down my cheeks and over my chin.
And when he wasn’t looking at my, he was giving me a quick tickle in the ribs or the routine diaper check. Some nights, the milk would go right through me. Other nights, it would revisit me after he put me to bed. This made the 3 a.m. diaper checks and changes very important. I had grown used to sleeping for a few hours and then being awakened.
My sleeping habits were very poor before I met him. Some mornings, I would wake up after having slept for 8 or 10 hours and would still feel tired. And the idea of waking me up just a few hours into sleep was a dangerous idea to have. But now, Zeke had put me on a schedule that I had grown accustomed to. My sleep was now restful and I could wake up very easily. He has found a way to settle me down. It’s amazing how my life has changed because of him, even the nature of my sleep.
Finally at about 9 pm, Zeke stood up with me in his arms and carried me back to the nursery. It wasn’t until we got there and I saw him lowering the side of the crib before I figured out he was putting me to bed.
I fussed something fierce because I didn’t want to be put to bed yet. Grant and Keira were still there and I didn’t want to miss anything. (Not to mention I still had a very important question I needed to ask him.)
So I fussed as he placed me on the crib mattress. Keira heard me and walked back to the nursery. She knelt down alongside the crib and tried to calm me down.
Fussing had turned to tears as Zeke lied me down and checked my diaper once more. I didn’t want to go to sleep, not with Keira still here. There was so much fun we could have tonight yet.
My tears began to stream down my cheeks as I pouted. It was then that Keira said something to me that got my attention. She tucked a baby blanket around me and said:
“Shh, shh, shh…”
And then I knew what she and Zeke were whispering to each other as I was drinking my bottle earlier. He had told her all the little tricks to getting me to settle down and accept the decisions that were being made for me.
Just hearing her make that shushing noise, in the same fashion as Zeke did it, drove me deeper into a submissive mode. I looked up at her with pleading eyes, practically begging her to allow me to stay up a little while longer. She batted her eyelashes at me delicately and shook her head slightly, telling me the answer was “no”.
Zeke dried the tears streaming down my face and I slipped from submissive mode back into baby mode, now viewing the situation as if my mother and father were putting me to bed. I felt like a baby and a sensation of pampering flowed through me, reaching the tips of my fingers and toes.
Keira picked up each one of the teddy bears in my crib I slept with and had me kiss them all good night and then I touched noses with every one of them. I giggled behind my pacifier at the silliness of the moment. Just like Zeke, she had discovered a way to cheer me up when I was upset.
Slowly, I began to calm down and accept that I was going to do what I was told to because I was just a baby. Keira leaned over to me and told me how much fun we would have tomorrow and how all BabyGirls need a good night’s sleep in order to have so much fun. Before I knew it, I was listening to Keira’s words and resigning to what she said.
Zeke kissed me on the forehead and turned the lights off before he left the room. Keira decided to stay in the nursery on the rocking chair until I went to sleep. I stared at the nightlight and though I wanted to stay awake so very much, the warm milk in my tummy and the night time routine put me to sleep shortly thereafter.
At 3 a.m., Zeke woke me up for my diaper check. Grant and Keira had left hours ago. He had just awakened himself and was very gentle with me. He lifted me up out of the crib and carried me over to the changing table.
Some nights, he’ll simply change me in the crib, but tonight was going to require a little more attention. You see, I had a poopy diaper and though it had begun to burn my bottom a little, I didn’t make any commotion about it. He obviously needed sleep right now and I felt bad about putting up a fuss when he put me to bed. So I behaved.
A poopy diaper change was a little different. It wasn’t so much about how good it made me feel to be powdered and dressed in a new diaper, or about the gentle care in his fingertips. It was more about getting cleaned well and being put into a new diaper as quickly as possible.
Whether it was wet or messy, my 3 a.m. diaper changes always woke me up just enough that Zeke would have to go through a whole routine to get me back to sleep. This time, he sat on the rocking chair in the nursery and gave me another bottle of warm milk, assuring I would soon be drowsy again.
As he bottle fed me, he spoke about his day with Grant. I heard the words coming out of his mouth, but couldn’t focus on what he was saying. I had experienced a roller coaster of emotions on this day that had left my mind exhausted from too much thought.
He could’ve been speaking in a foreign language to me just then. It didn’t matter. I simply drank from my bottle and gazed up at his face as he spoke to me. Then the adult thoughts I had battled with earlier in the evening returned.
The patting of his hand on my diapered bottom, usually an innocent sensation, was suddenly a gesture that made me envision moments of foreplay with him that were anything but innocent.
The confusion between feeling like a little girl and feeling like a big girl had gotten the best of me. And I remembered I needed an answer from him which meant I had to ask him about his sexual feelings for me.
I finished the bottle and asked if I could write about the day in my journal for a few minutes. Zeke said yes, thinking the warm milk would put me to sleep soon, but I had a determination to find the courage to ask him about his sexual feelings for me before I went back to sleep. And I had bought myself some time by asking to write in my journal.
So here I’ve been, lying in my crib for about fifteen minutes now writing. This whole time that I’ve been writing this entry, I’ve been trying to relive the events of this day and the events of the past, hoping that some memory would put the words in my heart that I needed to ask him about his adult feelings for me.
Sadly, I can’t seem to find those words. So, my only choice is to simply ask him by letting it out. No matter what words come out of me, I won’t stop until he gives me an answer. Not even the fear of being spanked is going to stop me from doing this.
Zeke says it’s bed time and I need to finish up writing. It’s time to ask him how he feels about making love before we get married. My heart is beating so fast right now. I’m really nervous.
I will make certain to write my next entry tomorrow. I’ll tell you what his answer was!
Wish me luck!
The Complete Story of “Zeke and Lily: Her Diary” can be found at:
Zorro Daddy’s ABDL Library: