Published: August 20th 2020, 2:00:05 pm
"This is NOT a simple little mix-up!" Blake fumed, staring down the man furiously. "This is gross incompetence!"
"Of course, of course," the man didn't seem phased at all, which was hard for Dakota to comprehend... She'd never seen her Daddy this before. He was never really mad at her when they were playing, but that was still scary; this was on a whole other level. "We'll be happy to waive your fee this time."
"Did you actually think you were going to pay for this?!" Blake's eyes widened. "How stupid...?!"
"Thank you for your business," the man ushered them out the door. "Have a nice day."
Before Blake could say anything more, the door was shut with a soft jingle from the bell attached to it, and a loud slam. By the time Blake grabbed at the handle, ready to give the man inside another piece of his mind, it was locked, refusing to budge. "I'm not done with you!" he shouted, but it didn't do any good. He gave another tug or two, to no avail, then, shaking his head, turned away.
"It's okay, Daddy," Dakota said quietly, reaching up to pat him on the arm.
Blake looked over at her, at the bandage on her arm. "No, it isn't," he replied, much quieter and calmer already as he reached up towards it. "I'm sorry... I should have stopped them... I-I don't know why I didn't..."
He gave her a hug, Dakota's hand brushing against the slight bump under his shirt that his own bandage made. It would almost have been funny, imagining him with the tattoo she was supposed to have gotten, if they weren't actual tattoos. She might have playfully drawn it on there herself, or put a temporary tattoo there to tease him... This was the real deal, however.
"It's okay, Daddy," she promised. "We'll figure something out."
She had no idea what, or when. She knew there were ways to get tattoos removed, but she didn't see nearly as many of those as she saw tattoo parlors. Were there any around here? How well did they work? Would they hurt? Everyone had been right that she had gotten used to the feeling of the tattoo gun, though it hadn't exactly been fun... Would having it taken off be more painful? And how long would they have to wait before it was possible?
"You're right," he nodded, looking down at her, smiling. "How did a little baby like you get so smart?"
"Not a baby!" she stomped her foot. "Clearly, they could see that, and that's why they didn't give me that tattoo."
"Yeah, I'm sure that's it," he chuckled. "Come on... Let's get those cupcakes."
"Really?" her eyes lit up. She wasn't certain she could say she'd been all that brave... But she wasn't going to argue with cupcakes! "Okay!"
Despite it all, it was easy to forget her problems for a few minutes as she munched away at her strawberry cupcake, swinging her legs happily on a chair at the bakery. Her arm was feeling a bit sore, though not terrible, and her treat distracted her from her Daddy's ranting about how they were going to hire a lawyer and sue the tattoo parlor. She was upset about the mix-up, too, of course, yet, at the same time, she felt an odd sense of peace about it, as compared to Blake's reaction. Probably, she said to herself, it was because she knew Daddy would take care of everything, as always.
They headed back home, Dakota ready to flop down on the couch and watch cartoons, only for Blake to grab her hand, leading her away from the living room. "Where are we going, Daddy?" she pouted up at him.
"I know that everything that happened was very scary, sweetie," he told her, "but little girls who have accidents belong in diapers."
"I-I didn't!" she blushed, moving her free hand in front of the crotch of her shorts. "Daddy, I d-don't wet my panties!"
He shook his head. "Are you lying now, too?"
Dakota sulked. "No," she fibbed. "You saw? I thought it was dry by the time they were done with me."
"Daddies always know," he smirked. "You know, maybe this was a blessing in disguise... I was worried about whether you'd be able to wear your diapers while you were recovering, so I thought we'd have puddles all over the place."
"We wouldn't!" she pouted as he picked her up, setting her down on the changing table he'd built for her in their spare room. Like all of her baby furniture, it was huge, more than big enough for her, partially to make her feel all the tinier as she squirmed around on it, and partially so that, if they found more little friends for her to play with, they'd be able to use it, even if they were physically bigger than her. "I don't have accidents!"
"We'll see about that," he reached for her shorts, Dakota valiantly attempting to push his hand away, play-wrestling with him as best she could, in her disadvantageous position. As always, she very quickly lost, her pants getting tugged down, her still-damp panties exposed.
"I only lost 'cause my arm is hurt," she pointed at the bandage. "That doesn't count."
He nodded, "If you say so, sweetie," while he got out a big, fluffy diaper for her.
"I do!" she exclaimed. "And I say I don't need that, either."
"You can say it," he told her, slipping her panties down her legs, sliding the bulky diaper beneath her bottom, "but that doesn't make it true."
"Yes, Daddy," she sighed, letting herself get cleaned and powered, and diapered... Not that she really had a choice.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Dakota had assumed it would be a bit awkward to explain, even if things had gone according to plan... Her main comfort came in knowing that her own tattoo would be a bit harder to see. Sure, if her shirt rode up in the back, people might see part of it, but maybe not enough to read it, or realize how childish it was. And, if they saw Blake's when they were out and about together, perhaps they'd think they had a child together, at home with the babysitter.
Or, more likely, they'd know the truth - or a version of it, anyway. Looking at her next to him, they might decide she was his actual child, and he had gotten started young... Especially if she were being punished, and they noticed a bulge in her pants, a crinkle in her step. Until she passed them, and they saw a hint of ink peeking over the top of the diaper's waistband, if she wasn't vigilant enough about pulling her shorts up...
Now... She looked at herself in the mirror, tugging at the arm of her shirt, trying to make it lengthen. She'd tried that many time with the bottom of her shirt, or her skirts... It was a new feeling, doing the same with this, instead.
"Why does it have to be so hot?" she whined. "I don't wanna wear long sleeves!"
"Then don't," Blake chuckled. "It isn't that bad, sweetie..."
He'd tried to tell her that ever since the tattoo had healed enough for her to take the bandages off, at the start of the weekend. "Nobody will know," he'd said. "You don't talk about your father with your work friends, do you?"
She didn't; there were very few people she did talk about him with. Claiming the tattoo was for him would change that, would invite questions over whether he was dead, and she wanted to memorialize him, or if they were simply that close.
Those questions weren't going to stop if they went with their current plan for dealing with this, either. They hadn't decided on a design yet, but they'd talked about adding onto the tattoos, rather than removing them and trying again at some place more reputable, turning Dakota's into 'Daddy's Girl' and Blake's into some variation of 'Daddy to a Sweet Baby Girl', though that one was harder for them to decide on.
"You're so lucky," Dakota complained, looking over at him. "You can just keep your shirt tucked in, and nobody will know!"
"If they do see it, though, it's a lot more embarrassing," he pointed out. "And a lot harder to explain away. It would have made perfect sense sitting above your diaper's waistband. They would have gone together so well."
Dakota expected to feel a twinge of humiliation, imagining that, but, instead, her mind went somewhere else, envisioning Blake in that situation, the thought of it making her giggle. He was right.... That would be a very cute combination.
Glancing back at the mirror, however, returned her to reality. She looked at her closet, but it felt like she'd already tried everything on, and none of it worked. "I don't wanna wear any of this!" she whined, stomping her foot. "I just wanna stay home and watch movies all day."
She expected a lecture about how she was supposed to be a responsible young lady, at least when it came to work. To her surprise, Blake said, "We do both have sick days, and it's been a while since we had a three day weekend..."
"Really?" she stared up at him.
"Sure, why not?" he shrugged. "But you know what this means, little lady... If we're going to watch movies, you're going right back into diapers. I'm not pausing every twenty minutes for you to run to the bathroom."
Dakota rolled her eyes. "It's not that bad!" It was close, though, and it wasn't like she really minded... It was nice, getting all padded up, snuggling together, knowing they didn't have to get up for anything...
Except, partway through the first movie, she felt Blake starting to squirm. She assumed, initially, he was trying to get comfortable, but it kept getting worse, until, finally, he reached for the remote and paused the movie. "Hey!" she pouted.
"It'll just be a minute!" he promised, moving out from beneath her, hurrying to the bathroom. That almost never happened... His bladder was big enough he could hold it through a whole movie without problems, sometimes two...
"Everything okay?" she asked when he returned.
He nodded. "Yeah... I forgot to go before we started."
Dakota opened her mouth, wanting to say that wasn't true, but she couldn't remember for sure one way or the other. She thought she recalled him doing that right after putting her in her diaper...
"You're probably already soaked," he said defensively.
"Nuh-uh!" she shook her head. "All dry!" She gave her diaper a pat, and, no matter how thoroughly he checked her, he couldn't find any evidence to the contrary.
"A one-time thing," he shrugged it off. "You will be soon enough."
Dakota knew that was probably true, and yet, as he sat down, the back of his shirt riding up, revealing the baby blocks on his lower back, she couldn't help giggling anyway, for some reason, even though, in retaliation, he started to tickle her. She laughed helplessly, at the mercy of his wiggling fingers, knowing he was just proving himself right, that her bladder was no match for this...
They were both shocked to discover, in the aftermath, she was still dry. "You must be dehydrated," he said. "Hold on... While we're paused, I'll get your bottle a refill."