Gear Shift

-- by Mako Allen

Adam kept stealing glances at Christina as he drove. She couldn’t seem to bring herself to look at him.

At first, he had wondered if he had gone too far with her, too fast. Was that the heat of defiant anger her cheeks were flushed with? She hadn’t said anything at all since he had put that rather large butt plug up her bottom, back at the realty office. She’d nodded just once, when he’d asked her if she was all right.

What settled it for him was the construction. They had just passed NoNo’s Café, and made the turn onto South Erickson. The road was a torn up mess, for a good mile, before the highway entrance. Despite the fact that he’d carefully slowed down for the road work, Adam’s little Saab shook and wobbled and positively vibrated as he drove through it.

Christina gasped.

Then she writhed in her seat.

Then she had clutched the door handle with one strain-whitened fist, and crossed her legs, shaking.

Adam had grinned widely, and took his time getting on the highway.

After maybe twenty minutes of smooth highway, Christina uncoiled her hand from the handle, and made a production out of smoothing the front of her skirt.

“Feel better?” he asked her.

She laughed weakly. “Maybe? I don’t know if I’d call it better. Maybe less… distracted.”

“How’s your bottom feel?”

“Full. Stuffed. Stretched.”

Adam felt his cock twitch in his pants, and catch awkwardly in his underwear. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat for a second, then pulled over to the shoulder to adjust himself.

Christina smirked at him. “Serves you right.”

Adam took a good look at her. “You seem kinda flushed still. Here.” He fished around in a bag in the back seat, and pulled out a hard plastic Nalgene water bottle.

She took the bottle, pulled the built-in straw out of the cap, and took a good long draw on it. He watched her gulping down the water. “Good,” he said, before easing the car back out on the road.

After several long, slurping gulps, she pushed the straw back in and started to turn to put the bottle back in the bag.

“No Princess. Put it down on the floor by your feet. I want you to eventually finish that.”

“I don’t know. If I do, I’m gonna flood this pull-up.”

Adam reached a hand between her legs, shoving them apart, and palmed her crotch. He gave it a healthy, assessing squeeze.

Christina let out a little squeak, but didn’t fight him.

“You’re dry. You can wet that some. When and if I decide you need a change, we’ll deal with it.”  She sighed loudly, rolling her eyes, but looked away from him to hide the smile on her face.  Adam turned away to hide his own smile.  They drove, neither of them needing to say anything.  They passed the exit for Fort Meredith, and kept right on going.  

Every so often he’d float a hand out toward her, and she’d obediently spread her legs for him.  Sometimes  he slipped a finger up inside the leg of her pull-up, feeling around.  Other times, he palmed her crotch.  That made him think of Simon doing the same to Abby’s, checking the front of her panties.  Although Simon had been checking for the other kind of wetness.  

“Where are we going, Adam?”

“That’s actually something I thought we might discuss on the trip.”

“What?” she asked him, confused.

“Not that kind of going.  I was just thinking about when Simon and Abby came over for dinner.  Remember?”

Christina smiled, nodded.  “I remember your hands shaking when you undressed me at the table.”

He did, too.  Both women’s nipples had been so hard.  He shook his head.  That wasn’t important.

“I was thinking about their contract,” he said.  “I think it’s long past time that we wrote one of our own.”

Christina looked thoughtful.  “I don’t know,” she said.  “I’m not even sure where to begin.  It’s honestly kind of overwhelming."

Adam got off the highway at the exit for Route 131, Three Points Pass Byway.  After they exited onto the smaller road, they passed a sign that said “Wind Gap, 120 miles.”  

“We’ve got time,” he said.

“Is that where we’re going?” she asked.  “Wind Gap?”

“That’s where we’re going for dinner,” he said.  He pointed lazily toward the floor in front of her.  “Which reminds me, why don’t you have some more water.”

“If you insist.” she said.

He said that he did.  She took a meager, paltry sip, and he suggested she do better, which she did.  “Good girl,” he told her.

Christina blushed prettily, and said, “Thanks.. Daddy."  Adam got a warm feeling in his stomach when she did.  “I think I’d like that to be our very first rule.”

“What’s that?” she asked.  

“To call me ‘Daddy’.  I love when you do.”

“I call you Daddy all the time!” she said.

“No,” he said, “you don’t.  You do say it a lot, but not ‘all the time’.  That’s an important distinction.”

She thought about that.  “I don’t know that I could.  Or should!  Do you really want me to do that?”

Now Adam thought about it too.  “I don’t know.  That could be weird around strangers.  When we’re alone, or with people we trust, definitely.”

Christina sighed.  “I can see this getting complicated.  Maybe we should stop until we’re somewhere we can write it down.”

Adam reached over, and opened the glove compartment.  He took a small black, leather-bound journal from it, and a silver ball point pen, and handed them to her.

“You’re a little bit infuriating you know,” she said.

He raised an eyebrow at her, questioningly.

“…Daddy.” 

He nodded.  “Get writing,” he said. 

They spent the rest of the ride to Wind Gap hammering out several pages of rules, guidelines, and expectations.  Christina dutifully wrote everything down.  

Some of it was easy, almost obvious to both of them.  For instance, they both agreed that this wasn’t a “bedroom only” thing, but something they wanted to do as much as was practical or possible.  Adam said that he wasn’t entirely sure exactly what that meant.

Christina patted his leg and reassured him that while she didn’t either, she promised to do her best.  She looked so earnest when she said it.  

He tried to think of something he knew she would find challenging.

“I need you to ask me before your play with yourself,” he told her.  

“Okay,” she said.  Just like that, no objection, no fuss.  He gawped at her a bit.  Adam shivered, a long powerful frisson from his head to his feet.  They were really doing this, all the way doing this.  

“Should I have a bedtime?” she asked him.  

He thought about it.  She did like to stay up late.  She also liked to get up early, and to get him up early!  How did she do that? How could she be so charming and simultaneously so annoying? He laughed to himself.

“Maybe.  It’s really more that I need one,” he said.

“What do you mean?” Christina asked him.  

“I mean that not everyone is a Susie Sun-Up like you, baby girl,” he said.  “I would like to sleep in when I can."

She huffed, and said getting up early was practical on “school days."  He rolled his eyes at this, and she cuffed him on the arm.  “Maybe,” he admitted.  

They negotiated.

She did balk at his asking that she not wake him up before nine am on weekends or holidays, and letting him sleep in.  She countered with six thirty, and they settled on eight o’clock.  “But not a minute before, unless you want to get punished,” he said, and meant it.  He also added that he did not want her getting out of bed before him.

“What about my diaper?” she asked him.

“What about it?” 

“I mean, what if it’s really wet.. or I have to.. you know,” she said lamely.

“I know indeed,” he said.  Her face reddened.

“Well what do I do?” she asked.

Was this even a question?  “You go in your diaper.  That’s it.  End of story.”

“But I could…”

“Nope.” he said.  She could do what he said.  After all, he was her daddy, wasn’t he?

She wrote it down.  

They drove in silence for a while.  The sun sank toward the horizon, and the sky began to dim.

Adam turned on their headlights.  They passed a sign slowly enough to read it in the growing dusk.  It said “Snow’s Tavern, 10 miles.”  “That’s where we’re going for dinner, baby,” he said.  “Which reminds me of several rules I had in mind about meal times.”  He rattled them off, one after another:  “When we go out places, I order for you.  Also, you don’t get a knife.  I’ll cut your food.  In fact, I want to do that for you all time, even at home.  Especially at home.”

“I’m surprised you don’t want me to wear a bib, too,” she huffed.

“Actually, I do,” he said.

She looked aghast.  

“Just at home,” he added.

“Okay,” she said.  But she didn’t sound thrilled about it.  She flipped on the overhead light and wrote some more.  When she finished, she snapped the light back off. 

 “You might as well put the book away, hon.  We’re almost there.”

“Yes, Daddy,” she said.

They came around a wide curve, and the small town of Wind Gap came into view.  They passed through its few streets quickly, even though he’d slowed down to twenty-five.   The road split, and Adam took the left hand fork towards “Three Points Pass.”  A mile further down the road there was a brightly lit wood and stone sign for “Snow’s Tavern” next to a gravel road through the woods.

Adam turned onto it, and drove slowly down the little rut.  Christina inhaled sharply at each bump.  

He didn’t say anything, but slowed the car, trying to smooth the ride for her.  He wasn’t a monster, after all.

The track opened into a wide parking lot, in front of wide, two-story stone building, with a large chimney at the end.  It looked woodsy, and rustic, and wonderful.  Adam cracked the window, and the car filled with the aroma of cooking steak.  Adam pulled into a spot a few rows back from the door, and any other cars.  After putting the car in park, he slid his hand over to check Christina’s pull-up again.  

She slid her legs apart for him, but breathed heavily through her nose, a small, worried sound.  Her pull-up was perfectly dry still.  He looked into her face.  “What is it, sweetheart?” he asked.

“It sounds like you want me to just do whatever you say, all the time,” she said.  “To just, I don’t know.. obey.”

“That is the general idea,” he said.

“What if I can’t do it?” she said.

“Then you’ll get punished.”

She shook her head.  “That’s not what I mean.  What if, sometimes, I just need to stop…” she waved her hands vaguely in front of her lap, “…this?”  Her eyes glistened wetly in the wan light streaming into the car.  A small tear slipped from the corner of her eye.

Adam brushed it away with his thumb, then kissed her cheek.  He took her hand, and looked her right in the eye.

“Then we stop.  We take a breath.  Remember what Simon said about having a safe word?” 

She nodded, and smiled.

He got out of the car, came around to her side, and opened the door for her.  He shivered in the chilly air.  It was much colder here.  “Do we want our coats?” he asked her.  

Christina climbed out, and considered it, shaking her head no.  “It’s not that long a walk.”  She grabbed her purse, and slung it over her shoulder.

He locked the car, and offered her his hand.

“Is this because we’re in a parking lot, Daddy?” she asked him.  “Is it, you know, a rule?”

He shook his head.  “No, it’s just nice.  Sometimes it’s good to be nice.”

She held his hand tightly as they crossed the lot, squeezing it and smiling at him.  

As they walked, he noticed that she was taking very short, mincing little steps.  “Do you have to use the potty?” he asked her.  She shook her head no.  “It’s starting to hurt.. back there.”

“Hurt how?” 

Despite the dim light in the parking lot, he could almost see her fierce blush.

“It’s kind of sticking.  It feels like it’s pulling at me.”

Adam realized that the thick silicone lubricant he’d put up her bottom and on the plug must be thinning out.  “When we get inside, you can go in the bathroom and take out your plug.”

The place looked even more rustic on the inside.  It had rough wood plank floors, and walls.  There was no second story, instead the walls had a second row of windows, beyond which they rose up to the high-point of the a-frame roof.  It was well-lit, enormous, and cheery.  Also, it really was a tavern.  The front room of the restaurant had a long stone bar running along one wall.  There were a scattering of high tables with equally high stools.   

He saw the main dining room through an open doorway at the far end of the room.  He asked the tall, rather pale, dark-haired man behind the bar who they needed to see about a table.  

“That’d be me,” said the man, “Tom Snow.”  He offered Adam his hand, and he shook it.  Tom grabbed two menus from underneath the bar, and came around from behind it.  “I assume you’re here for dinner, only the locals come to drink.”  He led them into the other room.

“Can we have a table by the fireplace?” Christina asked.

Tom led them through the half-filled dining room to the far end, by the cavernously large fireplace set in the far wall.  He set the menus down and told them his wife, Ella would be around to take their order shortly.

Adam sat, but Christina didn’t.  He nodded at her.  “Go ahead, Princess.”  Christina hobbled off to the restrooms.

Adam unfolded his napkin from around his silverware.  He put his napkin on his lap, and then studied the menu.  

When she came back, Christina looked very relieved.  She winced a bit as she sat.

“Better?” he asked.

She nodded.  “I’m a bit sore.”

“Is that bad?”

She shook her head, but said, “Yes.  It’s sort of good-bad.”

Adam laughed.

“Did you order our drinks yet?” Christina asked.  “I’m parched!  I really want a soda.”

He shook his head no, and looked around.  A chestnut-haired woman in a long red dress was taking orders at another table and caught his eye.  He waved her over.

“Ella, right?” Adam asked.

She nodded.  “What can I get you two to drink?” she asked.

“Just water for the both of us will be fine,” Adam said.

Christina frowned at him, but said nothing.  After the woman left she asked, “Didn’t you hear what I said? I really wanted a soda.”

“You drink too much caffeine at night, honey,” Adam said.  “Maybe that’s why you have so much trouble getting to sleep.  I want you to try not having caffeine after sunset.  What do you think?”

“Does it matter what I think?” she asked, archly.

“Of course it does.”  He meant it, too.  She did have a problem with poor sleep.  How many nights had she woken him up with her tossing and turning, or popped awake first thing, after only a few scant hours of sleep?  It honestly worried him.

“I think I want a soda.”  

He laughed.  “Drink your water.  Here.”

Adam passed her a menu.  

She studied it for a few minutes.  

“Do you know what you want, Princess?”

“What are you having, Daddy?”

He told her he was having the Steak Au Poivre.  “Too spicy for me.  I’d like the Filet Mignon.”

“With a baked potato?” 

She nodded.  “…and a soda.”

“Medium?” he asked, ignoring her.

She nodded again.

“So you want the filet, medium rare, with a baked potato, a soda, and a spanking in the parking lot after dinner?”

“You wouldn’t!” 

“I might.”

“No soda then.” 

He told her that was a good choice.  When the waitress, Ella, came back with big glasses of water, he ordered for them both.  

Christina took a few long sips from her glass, then idly swirled it in her hand, making the ice tumble.  “So what’s our safe word then?” she asked.

“A lot of people use ‘red’, like stop lights, you know?  It just has to be something memorable, and something you wouldn’t normally say.”

She nodded.  “I’ll have to think about it.”

“Simon told me he and Abby used to use ‘biscuit’ as theirs.”

Christina made a face.  “That’s too silly.”  

“What’s wrong with silly?” 

“It makes all this seem… dumb,” she said.  “So what, you tell me I can’t have a soda, I say ‘biscuit’ and then I get to order one anyway?”

He shook his head.  “No,” he said.  “Besides things like that are different.”

“Things like what?” she asked, confused.

“Health stuff.  Or doing dangerous things.  You can’t safe word out of that stuff.  Especially things that are both.  I will absolutely, with no doubt whatsoever punish you for doing dangerous, unhealthy things.”

“I don’t do anything like that,” she protested.

“…like trying to go to work when you’re running a high fever?” he asked.  He thought back to how he’d punished her.  What a horrible day that had been.

Christina shivered.  “I’d rather not talk about that.”  He didn’t blame her.

Neither of them talked until the food came.  

Adam put his own steak aside, and pulled her plate towards him.  

Christina started to say something, but then closed her mouth, and just watched him.  Adam watched her as he made short work of cutting up Christina’s steak into tiny pieces.  She looked around nervously to see if anyone was watching them.  Truth to be told, he did too.  An elderly woman at the table in the corner was watching him, and he smiled at her.  She turned away, pretending to look out the window.

Adam split Christina's potato, and buttered it.

“There,” he said, “all set."  He pushed the plate back towards her.

“Almost forgot,” he said, then shook open her napkin, making sure to grab her knife.

They ate in a comfortable sort of silence, each focused on their food.  After a while, she said.  “I’ve think I’ve got one.”

Adam swallowed, took a sip of water, before asking, “One what, dear?” But he knew.  He just wanted to hear her say it.

Christina looked around them, and over her shoulder, to make sure no one was within earshot.  “I think I’ve got a good safe word, Daddy.”

He smiled broadly.  “What is it?” 

“Well, I was thinking about that really bad day back when I was sick.”

He nodded.  “Yeah, okay.  Go on.”

“And I was thinking that a safe word isn’t something you necessarily want to say but you say it when you need to say it.”

He nodded again.

“And I was thinking that maybe it needs to be something that even if I feel really little I can still say it, and this isn’t really even a word, well it’s two words, but it’s really more of a sound…”

Christina was all animated now.  Her eyes were sort of twinkling.  She was talking fast, and her voice was just a little bit pitched up, like she was excited and getting little.  The whole situation was a little odd - he felt like she had drawn him a picture, in crayon, and wanted him to look at it and praise it before he taped it to the refrigerator, or something.  He felt his lips curl in a slight smile.

“You’ve clearly put a lot of thought into this Princess.”

She nodded her head.  “Uh-huh.  It’s really, really kind of awful in a really, really good way.”

“OK, I give, what is it?”

Christina leaned across the table, and whispered into his ear,  “snip-snip."

Adam blanched.  He could feel the scissors in his hands, and remembered doing the cutting while she had bawled.  That was AWFUL!

He goggled at her.  “Um, wow.”

“Yeah,” she grinned.  “It kind of makes your stomach drop, right Daddy?”

It really did, too.

A thought occurred to him.  “You know what’s great about that, Princess?  There’s even a hand motion for it.”  He demonstrated.

“Why would I ever need to do that, Daddy?” she asked.

“If you couldn’t speak.. say if you had your mouth full.”

She blushed a hot crimson.

Adam called for the check.

It was fully dark outside now.  They held hands again as they crossed the now dim parking lot.  When they got back to the car, Adam opened her door for her, and leaned over her to fasten her seat belt.  She began to make a very pleased sigh, which turned to a squeak as he put his hand up her skirt.  Adam paid her no mind, and methodically patted her crotch, slipped a hand under her bottom, and then finally slipped a finger inside the leg of her pull-up to root around.  “Still dry, huh?” he asked.

She nodded.

He got behind the wheel, and drove the car around to the front of the restaurant.  He reached down by Christina’s feet and fished around until he found the plastic water bottle.  It was three quarters empty.  Adam pulled the straw out of the cap, took a sip, and made a face.  

“There’s no way you can finish this,” he said to her, “it tastes stale.  I’ll be right back.”

“Oh, I’m not thirsty anyhow,” she said.

He purposely ignored her.  “Be right back.”

Adam passed the bottle to the bartender, Tom, who was only too happy to wash it out, and fill it with ice water.  Back in the car he handed the bottle to Christina.  She started to object, but he raised an eyebrow, and gave her a meaningful look.

She took a good long pull off the water bottle.  Adam nodded at her, and then pulled out onto the main road.  

It was empty.  They drove for another hour and a half.  Christina must have been thinking, because she kept silent.  He focused on the road, which was getting progressively more narrow, as it climbed, and began to curve in a series of turns and switchbacks.  He heard, but didn’t see Christina taking sips from the water bottle every so often, and smiled.  

 After a particularly harrowing curve, the road widened briefly, and even grew a small shoulder.  If the moon hadn’t been so bright, he would have missed the sign there.

He slowed down, pulling onto the shoulder,  and pointed out the sign to her.  “The Inn at Three Peaks Pass, 3 miles. Watch for the turn!”

“That,” he said, “is where we’re going.”

“So we’re almost there?” Christina asked.  She shifted in her seat a bit.  Adam grinned to himself.

“Almost” he said.  Not that he was going to let her use the potty.

They pulled back onto the road, and after about a mile, off onto a side road.  Calling it a road was maybe a bit of an exaggeration.  It was paved, but poorly, and curved around and up the mountain.  As they broke through the tree cover, they could see the Inn.  

Christina gasped.  Adam almost did too.  The pictures on their website didn’t do the place justice.  It was a tall, rambling brick building, with peaked, sloped copper singled roofs, which glinted greenly in the moonlight.  It rose above a copse of encircling trees, splitting the moon at its highest point.  It looked like the sort of place a robber baron escaped to, or maybe an english gentleman.  

“Wow,” Christina said.

Adam couldn’t have agreed more.  He drove slowly, both because he couldn’t stop staring at the building, and because the road was getting progressively worse.  They drove over a particularly bumpy part, and Christina crossed her legs, tightly and made a hissing sound under her breath.

He almost regretted it when the narrow road suddenly widened out onto a gravel driveway, that ended in a wide circle in front of the Inn.

 There was another car in front of the building, parked under a gas lamp on a tall pole.  Adam pulled in next to it.  The heavy wood front door opened, and a brown haired woman in a simple, rather severe looking burgundy dress came out to meet them.

“You’d be Mr. and Mrs. Jordan then?” she asked.  "Welcome tae the Three Peaks.  I’m yer host, Mrs. Bell.”  It sounded more like “Beel.”

Adam got out, then went around the car to help Christina out.  Afterward, he turned and shook the woman’s hand.  “Pleasure to finally meet you.  Thank you for waiting up for us.”

“Och, it’s nae worry, Mr. Jordan.  Come, let me show you around.  Leave your car unlocked.  Daniel will see to your things.”

A tall gaunt man passed them on their way into the Inn.  Mrs. Bell exchanged a warm smile with the man, then nodded towards the Saab.  That must be Mr. “Beel”, Adam figured.

Mrs. Bell asked them if they’d like a “wee merry little tour.”  Adam said of course they would, and noticed as Christina bit her lip.  He purposely ignored this.  

The innkeeper showed them the lounge, which had an enormous fireplace.  (Actual, not gas, thank-you-very-much, according to their hostess.)  They walked out on the deck, overlooking the pass, and she pointed out the long wooden staircase which curved out and down, around the building, and out of sight.  

“Where does that go?” he asked.  

Christina gave him an exasperated look, as she shifted from foot to foot.  He raised an eyebrow, smiling at her.  Clearly, she had to go.  

“We’ve a lovely pool deck."

Adam shot Christina his most winning smile and asked Mrs. Bell what exactly was on the pool deck.

"Well, besides the pool of course, there’s a bathhouse with towels, a changing room, and a bathroom down there, too.  It’s only open during the day but it’s very private.  None of the guest rooms faces it.”  She winked at Christina.  "So even the shy types can enjoy it.”

Adam didn't think shyness was Christina's problem, but kept that to himself.

Mrs. Bell  led them back inside, taking a large key from her pocket.  She chatted amiably, and loudly, as she led them up four flights of stairs, to the top floor.  Adam noticed that there was only one door.

“Aren’t you worried about waking the other guests?” Christina asked her.

The woman laughed dismissively.  “Dear, you’re our only guests tonight.  Now, let’s show you your rooms.”

Now that was just perfect.  

"Rooms" was right.  It was a suite.  And it was everything Simon had said it would be.  

The  main floor of the suite was an enormous living room.  It looked like a robber baron's alpine hideaway.  Big puffy burgundy leather sofas and armchairs were clustered around artfully simple wood tables, facing in several directions.  Some faced the back wall, which was nothing but glass the length of the room.   There was a sliding door out to the balcony which ran the length of the entire wall as well. 

Some of the couches faced  a stone fireplace with an actual bearskin rug in front of it.  

At the other end of the room was a door to a small bedroom and bathroom, but the innkeeper clucked dismissively at it, and said they needed to see the master bedroom upstairs.

She led them up a flight of steps along the back wall, to the loft.  The "bedroom" was open air, taking up most of the loft.  It had an enormous custom sleigh bed.  To the right of it, was a door in the far wall.  It opened on a brilliantly white tiled  enormous bathroom.  The bathroom had a whirlpool tub big enough for several people, and the corner of the room was an equally gigantic shower behind frosted glass panes.  

The suite looked like the sort of place several people could amuse themselves for days.

Adam noticed their two suitcases, as well as the large cardboard box in the corner.  He mentally counted up the number of steps and made himself a note to give Mr. Bell a very large tip

Christina gasped.  She stopped fidgeting and whispered to him, "Adam, how much is this costing us?"

It was a lot.  But he told her not to worry about it.  “A-alright,” she said, her voice just a bit tremulous.  Adam got a good look at her.  Her face was slightly pale, and although she was trying very hard not to, she was shifting her weight from foot to foot.  She looked absolutely desperate to pee.

Adam took a deep breath to steady himself, and turned to take the key from Mrs. Bell, and to thank her for her courtesy.  

“Wait right here for me,” he told Christina quietly, before he escorted the innkeeper downstairs to show her out.

When he came back upstairs, Christina was standing in the bathroom, trembling.  She had removed her skirt, and those sexy little boots, and her socks.  She was still in her pull-up, which she had clearly peed in, and then stopped herself.  It was drooping between her thighs.  Yet from the waist up she was still dressed in her sensible, and very adult looking embroidered crepe blouse.  It was like looking at the two halves of her personality crashing into each other, violently.

It was damned sexy is what it was.  Adam’s breath caught, and he just stared. 

“I didn’t want to g-get my skirt wet, Daddy,” she said.

He nodded sympathetically.  “You still really have to go pee, don’t you honey?” he asked.

She nodded, slowly, her eyes wide.  His breath caught in his chest.  Adam’s already hard cock surged with heat, thickening painfully as his heartbeat thundered in his ears.  

He swallowed.  “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

Adam pulled Christina out to the bedroom.  She gave him a confused look, but didn’t fight him.  He stood her in the corner of the room, facing in towards the bed.  He briefly considered attending to the bed first, but abandoned the idea.  Christina looked positively desperate.

He purposely made himself walk slowly to the big cardboard box in the corner.  

Simon had once told him that half of authority came from confidence.  Furthermore, he had said that confidence was really a show.  If you looked like you knew what you were doing, he’d said, then even you could believe it yourself.

Still, Adam’s hands shook as he opened the box.  He dug through it, and took out two sealed packages, the larger of which he threw on the bed.  

Then he opened Christina’s suitcase, and took out a pair of Hello Kitty panties.  After a calming breath, he strode back over to her.  

Adam gently moved her from the corner, and tore open the package under his arm.  He spread the small blue tarp so that its square edges neatly kissed the walls.  Then he pulled her to stand atop it.  In one motion, he reached down, ripped the side of her pull-up, and drew it off her, using its seat to wipe at her pee-damp pussy.  

“Lean on me,” he said, offering her a shoulder.  Then he held out the panties for her, which she stepped into as he pulled them up.

“I,” she said, stammering, “I d-don’t understand.”

He looked her in the eye.  “You be a good girl, and keep your panties dry for Daddy while he gets the bed ready for you.”

He patted her bottom, and kissed her cheek, and turned towards the bed.  Behind him, he could hear Christina whimper softly.  

Adam’s heart thudded in his chest, and his hands trembled slightly as he shoved all the pillows off the bed to one side.  He picked up the second package from atop the bed.  He tore open the plastic, and spread the rubber sheet out, snapping it in the air to encourage it to spread.  He moved around the bed, quickly and efficiently, tucking the enormous sheet in at each corner.

Then he turned back to Christina, stripping off her blouse and her bra, and pushing her down on the bed.

Adam ran his hands up her quivering stomach, caressed her breasts, and stroked the hollows of her neck.  Then he ran his hands up the underside of her arms, pulling them up over her head, until they touched.  He captured her wrists in one hand, and kissed her, driving his tongue deep into her mouth.

Christina moaned and trembled.       

“Daddy,” she  whispered, “I’ve had so much to drink.  I have to pee so bad.”

He moved a hand down to her panties, cupping them.

“I know baby,” he said.  He ground the heel of his palm against her crotch.

“Oh, oh,” she whimpered.  “I don’t want to pee my pants.  I don’t want to wet the bed.”

He slapped her pussy, spanking it.

“It doesn’t matter what you want,” he said.  “Does it?”

Then he stroked her, through the panties, gently.

Christina didn’t answer, but writhed under his touch.  He slipped his fingers inside the leg of her panties, fondling her labia, tugging, pinching, rolling, and stretching them.

She sighed, then began to moan.  “Yes, yes.  So, so good, Daddy.”

Adam slipped a finger inside her, and stroked her clit hood with his thumb.  He pistoned his finger in and out, before driving it in deeply.  Then he bore down with his thumb, dragging it across her hood.  

Christina gasped, and Adam felt a small warm stream of urine escape her.  He rubbed harder.

  “Oh no,” she said, sobbing as the stream grew bigger.  “I’m peeing myself.  Daddy, I can’t help it.  I’m peeing myself and I think I’m going to come.”  

Yes.  This was what he wanted.  This was it.  She was his.  And he was going to make her come.

“Yes,” he said simply.  “And you will if I want you to.”  He crooked two fingers, curling them as he pushed them inside her.  He pressed hard against her g spot, massaging it, kneading it.  

“Tell me baby,” he said.

“It.. feels.. so.. good.  Can’t hold it!” 

He shook his fingers inside her, bearing down as he pressed.  Then he leaned down, took her nipple in his mouth, and bit it, hard.

Christina gasped, and like a dam breaking, let it all out.  She came as she peed, shaking.  It sprayed out of her, drenching the sheet, and Adam’s shirt.

But then it cut off.  She shook with the effort, and groaned.

“Are you holding in your pee, baby?” Adam asked.

“Y-yes,” she gasped.  

Well that just would not do.  

The air was thick with the mingled scents of their sweat, her pee, and her arousal.  Adam got up.  His hands shook as he fumbled with his belt, and undid his pants.  He kicked off one shoe, which sailed into the corner, landing against it with a hard, wooden report.  The other followed before he shimmied out of his pants and underpants.  His briefs caught on his turgid cock, before sliding free of it.  Once they’d both pooled on the floor beside the bed, he turned back to Christina.

She lay on the bed, on her back, her legs bent at the knee, and spread wide open.  Her whole body shook with the effort of holding in the rest of her pee.  Those adorable Hello Kitty panties clung to the folds of her labia.  They were so wet with pee and her juices that they’d turned almost transparent at the crotch.  He could see her thick, aroused pink folds through them.

Those panties were in his way.  He needed to be inside her.  He gathered her ankles in one hand, pulling them up, lifting her bottom off the tarp.  Then he ran his other hand up the curve of her bottom, and hooked his fingers the waistband of the panties.  In a single, smooth motion, he pulled them off her, up her legs, past her ankles as he let go of them, and away.  

He threw them over his shoulder, somewhere.  

Christina’s now naked bottom fell to the tarp, and her legs splayed open.  He grabbed her behind her knees, pulling her close.  Then he plunged into her.

Her pussy was slick with arousal, and pee.  She was warm, so very warm.  But not as warm as him.  Blood pounded in his chest and ears, and he drove his hot, painfully hard cock into her, deeply.

Adam gyrated his hips furiously, driving himself in and out of her.  She let out a low, throaty moan of surrender, and began to pee again.  Its sweet, cloying scent filled the air around them.  The motion of his cock in and out of her clashed against the stream of her pee, making a wet, splashing clatter.  It sounded weirdly like big fat raindrops smacking hot pavement.

Christina shook with orgasm.  She clamped her thighs around him, even as Adam pushed his hips against her.  He lay inside her, and they shook together in the wave of her climax.  Now it was his turn to grimace with effort.  He clenched, feeling his thighs and butt tighten as he tried to keep from coming, to make all this last just a little bit longer.  But she collapsed, relaxing the grip of her thighs on him.  He fell against her chest, driving his cock just a bit deeper up inside her, and came.

They kissed, and lay together, unmoving, for a long time.  He closed his eyes, and held her tightly to his chest.  Adam felt his cock soften inside her, and eventually slip from her folds.  They drowsed.

After a while, he got up.  

Adam surveyed the carnage of their lovemaking.  Christina lay in a half-sleep, curled in a ball on the tarp, which was slick with various things.  Her panties had wound up, amazingly, inside one of his shoes, in the corner of the room.  He stripped off his pee-spattered shirt, and his socks, and collected all their clothing, putting it in a laundry bag in the bathroom.    

He ran a warm bath, and then guided Christina into it, where she lay, not even pretending to wash.  Adam made quick work of cleaning up the bedroom, carefully folding up the tarps, before stowing them inside a large trash bag he’d put in the box just for this purpose.  Then he joined Christina in the bath, and washed them both.

Once they were dry, he brought her back into the bedroom.  Adam set out a diaper for her, and powder.  Then a thought occurred to him.  He rummaged around in the box for the bottle of lube.  But where had he put her plug?

Adam snapped his fingers, as he remembered.  Christina had it, in her purse.  He slipped downstairs to where it lay on a table by the balcony.  As he rummaged through it, he looked out at the mountains, and the dark night sky, alive with stars.  He decided to pull the door open a bit, leave it cracked, like they did with the windows at home.  Cool air chilled the room, raising goosebumps on the skin on his arms and stomach.

He carried the plug back up to the loft, which was still warm, but beginning to cool. 

Christina obediently lifted her hips for him, so he could slide the diaper underneath her.  She made the tiniest, most endearing, almost kittenish mew of surprise when he applied the lube to her bottom hole, but didn’t fight him as he slid the plug inside her.  Then he powdered her, and taped up her diaper, and tucked her in.

He slipped inside the covers, pulling her to him.  He squeezed her diapered bottom, enjoying the squishy, padded feel of it, of her.  Then, just because he felt like it, he slipped his hand down the back of her diaper, between her cheeks, and fiddled with the plug.  Christina warbled in a pitchy, very little sounding voice, “Daddy, I’m never gonna get to sleep with you doing that to me.”

Then she passed right out.

He took her in his arms and sighed contentedly.  The scent of the baby powder wafting up from inside her diaper, the comfortable heat and weight of the backs of her thighs against the tops of his, and the press of her backside against his cock all made him feel very comfortable and very sleepy.  He dropped off, and dreamt of nothing.

Until the birds woke him, just before sunrise.  He closed his eyes, drowsing, and listening.  There was no need to get up.  

After a while, Christina began to stir.  Adam didn’t give any indication that he was up.  But he shifted on the bed, so that he could see the clock, through slitted eyes.  It was just a bit after six. 

Would she remember and not wake him?  Would he have to pull down her diaper, spank her, scold her, for breaking their newly established rules?  Or would she lay still, be calm, and quiet?  In which case, he would reward her in ways he was enjoying imagining as he lay in the growing sunlight of their chilly room.

Christina slipped down from her place on the pillows, turning.  Her diaper crinkled oh so loudly as she wormed her way between and under his bent knees.  He could feel her breath against his penis, and his balls.  

But then she stopped, inches away from him.

She was such a good girl.


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