A Second chance with Daddy (M/m)

[Windrunner]

This story contains mature content including intimacy between adult males, sissification, bondage, and (eeew!) genuine affection. This has a bit more ABDL overtones than many of the stories I've seen here, I hope it's to the group's liking, but if this just isn't the right place for it, of course, I will remove it promptly.


This story actually contains a significant bit of experience I shared with someone who helped me understand myself. Only little bits have been added or changed to respect his privacy.

I had always found flying to be very relaxing, but as the plane touched down at LAX, the butterflies in my stomach took flight.

I reached into my pocket and turned on my phone.

K: “says you just landed. Hope the flight was comfortable. I got the picture of your suitcase that you sent.”

Me: “Hi Ken, thanks, it was a quiet flight, I think few minutes early”

K: “Hi, *who*?”

I blushed and replied, hoping my seat mate was not reading my texts.

“Hi, Daddy. Thank you, I had a good flight.”

K: “Good boy, Sam. When you get into the terminal, sit down and have a drink of water while I collect your bag and I’ll send you directions to the car in a few minutes”.

Ken, or Daddy - I really should just stick with that, he spanks me if I forget - had told me to put on a diaper before getting on the plane, and to send him a picture of it, tapes and all - so he could make sure I didn’t take it off I guess.

“Okay, Sam, it’s time to go for a ride. Don’t bother going downstairs, go right out the door across from the ticket counter. In the parking lot take the elevator to 5. Go to row E, and look for a black minivan with (his plate number). The side door will be open, there will be a note and some things to make your ride more comfortable.”

Ok, so, I should mention this was the second time I visited K… um, Daddy. The first time, I had stayed for a day, but just was too scared, or not ready, to really give up control. I had regretted it and we talked for several months before he agreed to a second chance. I was scared, but I knew that for the brief time that I did really give up control, and let him be Daddy, and I was able to resist my instinct to be “a big boy”, I felt something I needed badly. I had called a cab while he was sleeping and made a run for the airport without even talking to him.

I found the minivan and figured out how to push the button that slid the side door open. I expected him to be in the driver’s seat, but it was just me. There was a small bag and a note on the second row seat.

I got in and started to read, and then realized I should close the door. The windows were tinted - but I guess that’s almost a necessity in southern california.

“Sam,

I’m glad you came back. I knew the night before you left that you were having difficulty with really letting go. I hope you’ll trust me and trust your feelings, and put yourself in my care from the start.

Take off your shirt and pants and put on the clothes in the bag. When you’re done, put all your clothes, your cellphone, and anything else you are carrying into the suitcase in the back, and lock it. Sit in the second row middle seat, and put the seat belt on, and I’ll be with you in a few minutes.”

Omg. Well, he wasn’t actually asking me to get naked in the car, just strip down to a DIAPER! But it was dark and the parking area had no other cars within 50 feet so nobody would be staring in the couple minutes it would take me to change.

I slid off my jeans, t-shirt, shoes, and after considering, socks. Put them all in the open case behind me.

I opened the bag and saw pink. A lot of pink. A shiny girly top and shorts, big enough to fit over a diaper.

I knew instantly why. If I put them on, I was committing myself to going through with the entire stay. I felt butterflies in my stomach, but swelling at the front of my diaper. My diaper. I was used to it already.

I pulled on a bright pink spandex crop top. Then the shorts. There was a jacket at least, a thin nylon windbreaker. It was pink with white trim, it screamed “I am not a boy”. I put it on.

What else? Ankle socks with pink trim. No shoes.

I put my belongings in the case, and closed it, hearing the latch click very solidly.

I sat there for a minute. Oh. Seat belt, right.

I slid to the center seat, and pulled the seat belt across me. I noticed the latch I was to slide it into had something on it, a cover, that covered the button that would release the seat belt, with only a small slot, obviously once I put it on, K.. Daddy would have to use some special key to undo it.

Click.

I sat there and fought back the feeling of panic at being trapped a thousand miles from home, dressed like a girl, in a diaper, strapped into an improvised baby seat, offering myself to a man I had disappointed badly.

I started to cry. The driver’s door opened and he was there. He looked at me and smiled, not the smile of someone getting satisfaction or amusement, but something closer to compassion. “It’s okay, honey.”.

I tried to say “thank you” but I was crying - like a baby. He slid between the front seats and sat next to me, and held me in his arms.

“Baby, you’re going to have fun, I promise you. You’re going to laugh, and you’re going to get turned on, and we’ll do silly things and maybe one or two daring things. I’m going to feed you and make sure you’re safe, and” he tugged at the seat belt gently, “that you know you don’t have to make any decisions. I’ll make them all for you.”

I tried to look up, embarrassed to meet his gaze. His caring, gentle gaze. “But I have to get spanked”

He looked down at the floor for a second and I could tell he was looking for the right words.

“Sammy, you’ve been telling me since, well, a day after I saw you that you felt bad about going home early. I told you it was okay. I wasn’t angry at you, just disappointed that I didn’t see your feelings bubbling up.” He paused. “But I think you’ve been angry at yourself.” He took my hand in his. I nodded. “Uh huh.”

“Kiddo, you need to forgive yourself. But I don’t think you can do that until you, well, until you feel like you’ve made up for something. Maybe for disappointing yourself?”

*snif* “uh huh”.

“Sammy? I’m going to spank you. Not today. Probably tomorrow. I’m going to strap you to the bench in the basement and use a light paddle on your bottom. It’s going to hurt. I think you’ll cry, but it won’t be because the spanking hurts, it’ll be because you just need help letting out all those bad feelings you have. Your bottom will be a little pink for a few hours. No horrible marks. Maybe a tiny little hint of a bruise to take home as a trophy.”

Another pause. “That’s what you need, isn’t it? You need the release?”

I nodded. “I… I was so mad at myself. I liked how I felt when you took care of me but when I used to play with diapers and .. stuff by myself, I was in control. I could take it off. When I felt embarrassed, I could” - glancing down at the girlish outfit - “get out of it, hide it.”

He hugged me close.

“It’s late, and it’s a pretty good drive. You’ve been up a long time. I think maybe you should try to nap, and I can tuck you in when we get home. Did you bring your sleeping medication?”

We had discussed this, and I had told him there were several tablets of a prescription sleeping aid in my bag, and had answered all his questions about any difficulty I’d had with them.

He took out one and put it on the console. “I want you safe here. Can’t have you trying to sleepwalk while I’m on the freeway, silly.” He lowered the armrests on each side of me, to provide some support. And reached into his pocket and pulled out two fleece straps with some kind of fastener on them, and .. omg. A pink sleep mask with “daddy’s girl” embroidered in script across it.

“Only if you’re comfortable with them, Sammy.”

“Yes. Please, daddy.” I licked my lips. “Keep me safe?”

He gently guided one wrist onto the armrest and adjusted the soft fleece-lined strap around my wrist, the fastener making a little click. Then the other. “Are they comfortable?”

I squirmed just a little, making sure I could move enough that I wouldn’t get stiff, but I could also tell that I probably couldn’t get free of the “safety straps”.

He held up the little tablet and a bottle of water. “Okay, Sammy, medicine time”. I swallowed the tablet.

“Just relax for a few minutes while I put your bag away, and make sure we’re ready to go.”

I closed my eyes. I was helpless. Diapered. Dressed in girly pink things. Satin and silky nylon. I moaned softly as I shifted a little, feeling the padding of the diaper, the soft pressure of the straps holding my wrists down. I knew the medication would make me sleepy soon, and even if I stirred, I might not remember everything.

“Starting to feel a little sleepy, baby?” I nodded my head. He held up the pink sleeping mask - something that should have made me freak out and demand he put away. “Would you like me to put this on you? It’s easier to sleep without lights and distracting sights”.

“Yes daddy, I’d… like to wear the blindfold”.

He carefully slid it over my eyes and moved the strap behind my head so it wasn’t bothering my ears. He was being so careful. “Thank you, Daddy. It feels nice. It’s dark and, I feel safe.”

“Sammy, if you’d like, I have some headphones you can wear, with some soft relaxing music and just some reassuring words to help you relax. Would you like that?”

“Is it.. like hypnosis, Daddy?”

“It’s little suggestions and reassurances. Nothing bad.”

“Yes, daddy, please”

I felt soft, cushioned (probably expensive, the small part of adult Sam still present noting) being placed over my ears, and him adjusting them so they fit comfortably. I moaned softly, and realized I said out loud “this is what I need, daddy”.

I heard the car start.

Very gentle music, soft piano and just gentle harmonies, not unlike a nice massage spa, or any recording for people who have trouble sleeping.

Faint whispers. I felt the car moving. The headphones must have been the kind that absorbed most outside noise. I felt, but didn’t really hear, the rhythmic thumpthump as we were on a highway.

The whispers. A soft, soft female voice.

“I am safe. I am cared for.”

“My diaper feels so soft and comforting”

“I look pretty. My Daddy is happy seeing me dressed the way I feel inside”

“My satin top feels so comforting and relaxing”

“Daddy picked out a pretty jacket to keep me warm and cozy. I am pretty in it.”

“My sleep mask makes me feel safer. I don’t need to worry about anything. Daddy will take care of me.”

“My seat is comfortable and relaxing. The soft fleece straps keep my arms from bumping anything. Daddy has me safe in my car seat.”

“Daddy can see me in the mirror. He knows I am safe and relaxed.”

“Daddy is happy every time he sees me wearing my ‘daddy’s girl’ blindfold. It means a lot to him.”

“I’m diapered. If I wet it, that’s okay. I’m wearing it to keep me comfortable and not have to worry.”

“I’m sleepy now. I can relax. Daddy will take me home and put me to bed like a baby”.

“If I need to be spanked, I can tell daddy. It’s okay to ask Daddy to help me let go of feelings I don’t want”.

“Daddy will always protect me, and I can tell him anything.”

“I am safe. I am cared for.”

“I’m sleepy now. I can relax…..”

I think I said “goodnight Daddy”. I can’t remember.

—- Several Hours Later ——

“I am safe, I am cared for.” I mumbled softly as I awoke. I moaned softly realizing that I was awake, meaning I had slept. I am not in a car. I’m in a bed?

I startled myself and reached up to take off the sleep mask. There was a jingling noise and my hand didn’t make it all the way up. I felt like it was pulling against my ankle. I rolled on my side, and found that if I pulled my legs up, I could reach my face, and.. oh god, what’s going to be there. Where am I? Jingling little bells, every time I move.

I slid the satin blindfold off and let the world come into focus. I was on a small bed in daddy’s bedroom. I remembered it. Pink satin sheets covered me. I was puzzled, half-awake, by why it felt like something was around my wrists, that also was around my ankles?

I blinked again and saw that I was wearing a pink sleep shirt. It had long sleeves, all soft satin. Little bits of lace trim. The satin around my wrist was a different color. Still pink, but not quite the same. And with a wide, frilly lace trim on both sides. And something shiny. Tiny bells. I was able to sit up, and found that each wrist had a similar wide satin ribbon fastened around it, and that wide satin ribbon, several feet long, seemed to go down to each ankle.

I wasn’t tied to the bed. I could sit up. I did, and managed to slide my feet onto the floor. I was wearing pink satin booties.

“Good morning, Princess Samantha. Would you like something to eat?” Daddy was standing at the door and the scent of bacon and syrup was following hlm.

“Yes, please, daddy. I’m hungry”.

He saw me looking at the strange ribbons connecting my wrists to my ankles. Not enough to keep me from standing up, even, in fact, I could stand and lift my hands a little above my hips.

“Those are ‘mincing ribbons’ Princess. They’re made of very soft, but thick satin, and very expensive white lace.”

I stood up, my hands in front of me in an effeminate pose.

“Now, princess, those serve three purposes. First, the bells let me know where you are and if you’re moving around. Second, when you walk, you’ll need to hold your arms just like a sissy should. If you let the ribbons drag on the floor, well, the lace will get dirty, and Daddy will be disappointed. Third, they keep you from taking off the clothes I’ve chosen for you, or putting on anything different. Daddy decides what you wear. Now, little practice, let’s go to the kitchen”

I stood up and took a couple of wobbly steps. Daddy reached out to steady me. “Good girl, yes hold those hands up, just let your wrists dangle naturally.” Every movement made little jingling noises. Little ones from the tiny bells on my wrists, louder ones from the larger bells on the satin ribbons holding my ankles.

“I feel humiliated” I said, without even thinking about it.

“Is that a good feeling, or bad, Sammy?”

“I.. it feels good. I feel vulnerable. I’m not in control any more.” Swallowing. “I like it when you let me feel humiliation, Daddy, when it’s safe”.

To be continued? Maybe? There is more to the story, but this part was inspired by reading someone else's account of not-entirely-dissimilar experiences, real or imagined.

[Bondwriter]

Pleasant story. It starts well and could do with a couple more installments.

[Jb99]

Agree with [mention]Bondwriter[/mention], interested to see where this goes