Jim's Baby Girl, Frank
A sweet story of a sissy baby girl and her Daddy
Jim's Baby Girl, Frank
A sweet story of a sissy baby girl and her Daddy
This is my first story. Do you want me to continue it? It is rated "R" cause I am not sure where it is going to go for sure.
JIM’S BABY GIRL, FRANK
Frank is not a baby girl.
First of all, Frank is not a female at all. I mean, just so you know, “Frank” is not some cutesy nickname for a woman named Francine or Franny. Frank’s full name is name Franklin Allen Gray. And yes, I noticed the coincidence of his initials. Frank tells me he was named after his two grandfathers. I noticed his initials and apparently so did his classmates beginning in about the fifth grade. At times, Frank went through some pretty nasty teasing through his school years – being called “Gay Gray,” that sort of immature thing. Maybe it would have been better if his parents had named him Allen Franklin Gray. I guess they thought Frank was a stronger first name.
And I know you have figured out by now that Frank is not a baby. Far from it. Frank is 41 years old. He stands just under 6 feet tall and weighs about 170 pounds or so. He has short brown hair and brown eyes. No one would guess that Frank is a baby.
Yes, definitely, Frank is not a baby girl.
That means there is some explanation for his appearance on the floor of my living room. As I am watching him now, Frank is happily playing with toys sitting in the middle of my living room floor. Some of the toys are non-gender specific baby toys, things like wooden blocks, plastic rings, activity boards where you turn a little wheel or open a little door or spin animals strung on a thin cable. Other toys are more for little girls. Baby dolls, Barbies, My Little Ponies. That kind of thing. Frank is dividing his time between the toys, to all the world appearing to be very happy and content playing with his toys.
Frank’s appearance also requires some explanation. Frank is wearing a short, high-waisted, pale pink play dress. The dress is decorated with pictures of baby animals on its skirt and a cute brown teddy bear on its chest. It has delicate white lace around its neck, sleeve openings and hem. Because Frank’s hair is so short, we have placed a baby headbands around his head. These help identify real babies, whose hair maybe hasn’t grown in, as little girls. Frank’s headband is also pink with a little pink bow on the side. On his feet, Frank is wearing frilly white anklets and white Mary Jane style shoes. Frank has a white pacifier in his mouth. It is moving in and out as Frank happily sucks it.
Finally, because Frank is sitting with his legs spread wide, I can see Frank’s pink plastic panties, just peeking out from under his dress. Through his panties, I can see Frank’s thick white disposable diaper, snuggled tight against his crotch and around his legs.
Every now and then, Frank lifts and re-adjusts his skirt and shows me more of his diaper. And sometimes, Frank rubs over the front of his diaper, a look of absolute bliss and comfort on his face.
Frank looks to be very happy.
So, how did this scene come to pass? Let me tell you a little more about Frank and myself. In his real life, Frank works as a zone supervisor at the All-Mart on the east end of town. As a zone supervisor, Frank oversees three separate departments – hardware, sporting goods and automobile supplies. He mostly works in the sporting goods department.
As for me, my name is Jim. Frank calls me Daddy or Da-Da. I am 32 years old. I am an inch or two taller than Frank and weigh probably 20 pounds more than he does. I have lighter brown hair and blue eyes. I also work at the All-Mart but I am not in management. I work as a customer service person in the electronics department. It was working at the store that I met Frank.
I have been interested in the adult baby scene for several years. My position at All-Mart gives me some opportunities to pursue this interest. The baby/toddler department at All-Mart is right across the aisle from the electronics department where I work. From my cashier desk, I can watch people wandering through the baby department. I think you might be surprised at the number of single men who walk through that department. Now some of these guys are there for legitimate reasons. They have babies and need to pick up some necessary supplies or a gift for their babies. Others are just cutting through the department to some other area of the store. They walk quickly through, looking neither left nor right at the merchandise.
Some single guys, though, stroll more slowly through the baby department. They may stop to look very briefly at a rack of cute dresses or rompers. Some of them might even take a cute dress off the rack and look at both sides of it. They usually do this and then, looking around nervously, hurriedly put the dress back on the rack and hurry out of the department. Those are the ones I wonder about – are they secretly adult babies?
That was how Frank first came to my attention. Even though the baby department is not part of his responsibility, I began noticing how often Frank would be over in that department, picking things up off the floor, straightening out the clothes on the racks, helping customers find something in that department. Virtually every shift that we worked together, I would see Frank over in the baby department, fondling the cute baby dresses and rompers.
After watching this go on for a while, I decided Frank had more than a passing interest in baby clothes. And I decided to speak to him about that interest. So one day, about six weeks ago, I followed Frank as he ventured into the baby department. Sure enough, he stopped at a rack of new baby dresses, just arrived in anticipation of Easter. They were so frilly and ruffly, all in white and pinks, many with accompanying, matching diaper covers. Frank stopped at the rack and began to re-sort them, appearing to place them back in the proper size orders, but in truth holding and looking over each one very carefully.
I came up behind him and said in a soft voice, “Aren’t those just so precious?”
Without fully turning around, Frank responded in his own soft, and somehow faraway, voice, “They are so adorable.” He then turned fully and saw me. He blushed and, excusing himself, scurried back towards the sporting goods department. I watched him hurried away. I thought then I had my answer and decided to follow up.
I started paying even closer attention to Frank. I noticed another unusual thing. On some days, his pants fit him differently. Specifically, his seat appeared to be fuller, like there was more padding there. I wondered if he was wearing a diaper to work sometimes – not every day but some days. And then I began noticing that on the days Frank’s bottom looked more padded, he tended to spend even more time in the baby department, sometimes going over there three or even four times a shift. On those days, was Frank feeling even more “babyish?”
As I was reviewing these events in my mind, I was sitting in my recliner. I had one eye on my newspaper, one eye on a golf tournament on the television, and one eye on baby Frank as he played with his toys. (I know, I know, that adds up to three eyes. It’s a joke.) I noticed Frank staring to act a little antsy. He was rocking back and forth and starting to rub the front of his diaper more frequently. Finally, he pushed some of his toys aside and crawled over to me. Standing up awkwardly in front of me, Frank took his pacifier from his mouth and lifted his short little dress to his chin, fully exposing his plastic panties and diaper.
“Me go tinkle, Da-da,” he said. “Tinkle” is Frank’s word for peeing. I smiled up at him and reached out and felt the front of his diaper. I could feel his penis pressing hard against the front of the diaper. I gently rubbed back and forth over it, Frank’s face becoming blank. Then I felt the surge of his pee hit the inside of his diaper. I could feel its warmth even through the diaper and plastic panties. Frank’s eyes rolled back in his head a little as he finishing wetting his diaper. He shuddered as the last drops flowed into the now heavy, sagging diaper.
I caressed over his penis a few more times and asked, “Is baby done?”
“Yeth, Daddy,” Frank replied.
I stood up and took Frank’s hand in mind and started walking back to my nursery, “Well, let’s go get baby a fresh dydee, shall we?”
Frank followed along passively besides me, waddling with the weight of his heavy diaper between his legs. In the nursery, I laid out the changing pad on the bed and had Frank lay down on it. I lifted his dress up out of the way and then slid his plastic panties down and off over his Mary Janes. I patted the front of his diaper and felt down between his legs cupping the diaper’s sodden weight in my hands. “My, my, baby sure had a lot of tinkle, didn’t she?” I smiled down at Frank as I undid his diaper. Frank’s eyes were closed as I slid the diaper out from under his bottom.
I retrieved the baby wipes and powder from the top of the dresser. I took a baby wipe and began drying off around Frank’s crotch. Frank’s penis laid erect on his lower tummy. I gently washed it with the baby wipe, Frank’s breath getting faster and his penis twitching beneath my hand. “Does baby like Daddy to do that?” I asked. Frank nodded his head ever so slightly and then began sucking on his right thumb.
I opened the baby powder and began sprinkling it over Frank’s crotch. Its sweet smell soon filled the air. I so tenderly began smoothing it over Frank’s smooth tummy and hairless groin. Again, his penis twitched and a small drop of pre-cum appeared on its tip. I took a baby wipe and gently wiped it off.
I got a fresh diaper, a cloth one this time, and, having Frank lift his hips, I slid it under him. I fastened it to him snuggly with white diaper pins. Patting the front of his diaper softly, I got a fresh pair of plastic panties. These were also white with three rows of pink ruffles on the bottom. I worked them over Frank’s shoes and slid them up to his thighs. I then had Frank stand up as I pulled the panties up over his thick fresh diaper. “There, now baby is all fresh and clean.” I said. “Does baby want to have some din-din?”
Frank looked at me and blushed. “Yeth, Daddy.” He took my hand and I led him into the kitchen.
This visit is going so well, I thought.
You're off to a good start with the story, please continue with some more.
I want to take Franks Place, please:-). Please continue your great storry
Its all about the humiliation
Not a lot of response to my first chapter but here is chapter two anyway.
Frank took my hand and I led him into the kitchen. I was a little surprised at how passive and submissive Frank became when he was in his baby girl mode. He walked slightly pigeon-toed, which made his bottom waddle even more in the thick diaper. He toddled slightly behind me as we entered the kitchen.
I don’t have an adult-sized high chair, at least not yet. What I did do, though, was to make Frank sit on two thick books so that his feet did not quite reach the floor. He slowly swayed his feet back and forth as he patiently waited for me to feed him a little snack. His legs were separated and I could see his pretty plastic panties and thick diaper under his short skirt. He looked so cute.
I placed a bib around his neck; it was yellow with a blue baby bird with its mouth open on the front. I opened a jar of baby food, actually it was toddler food, mixed vegetables and beef. I also opened a jar of pureed apples, bananas, and peaches for dessert.
Frank sat in his chair, his hands folded in his lap and I sat down in front of him. I used a real baby spoon to feed him. He would passively open his mouth as I fed him the baby food. Sometimes some of the food would slip off the spoon or not quite make it into his mouth and I would have to take my baby burp cloth and wipe his face clean. Frank seemed absolutely content to be fed this way.
When we finished, I took off the bib and let Frank sit on the kitchen floor while I fixed his bottle. Although breast milk is the best for babies, I did not have that option so I prepared some formula for Frank. When the bottle was ready, I again led Frank by the hand back into the living room. Once there I sat on the couch and had Frank lay on the couch with his head in my lap.
I tested the formula again on my arm and then holding the baby bottle over Frank’s face, I lowered it until he took the nipple into his mouth and started sucking. He closed his eyes and looked so peaceful as he suckled on the bottle. His knees were folded up on the couch and his dress had slipped down to his waist so his plastic panties and diaper were fully exposed. I shifted the bottle from my right hand to my left hand and gently caressed the front of Frank’s diaper. I could feel his penis hard underneath my hand. Frank was truly enjoying himself. I shifted the bottle back to my right hand and stroked Frank’s hair as he sucked on his bottle. Frank’s breathing started to get slower and deeper and he dosed off sucking on his bottle. I smiled down on my precious baby girl as she dosed.
As Frank dosed, I had a chance to think back on how we had gotten here. After my encounter with Frank in the toddler/baby department at the store and my observation that on some days Frank’s pants seemed to be padded as if he was wearing a diaper, I decided to follow up on my hunch.
I started to time my restroom breaks at work for the same time as Frank. I hoped to catch some glimpse that might confirm my suspicion. At the least I wanted to have an opportunity to talk to Frank in a more private setting. The first few times we were in the restroom together nothing happened, other than the exchange of pleasantries. Then, one day when I noticed Frank was wearing extra padding, I went into the restroom after he had already entered a stall. Sure enough, I heard the unmistakable sound of a diaper tape being gently pulled free. I waited for Frank to come out of the stall. He saw me and blushed slightly. I greeted him and we walked to the sinks together. While we were washing hands, I asked quietly, “Would you like to have a drink sometime, Frank?”
He looked over at me with a little bit of a surprised look in his eyes. I thought he was going to tell me no, but he answered back softly, “That would be nice, Jim.” We made arrangements to have a drink that very evening after got off work.
I stepped back from the sink and went to dry my hands. I looked again at Frank’s bottom. It was definitely rounder. I walked past him towards the door and in a move that surprised even me, I patted him on the bottom. Sure enough, Frank wore a diaper under his pants. “See you tonight, then, baby.” I whispered.
Frank blushed even brighter but only smiled shyly at me. “I am looking forward to it.” A slight hesitation. “Daddy.”
We met that night in a small bar and sat at a table towards the back away from other people. After some initial small talk, I came right out and asked Frank about wearing diapers. Did he have to wear them or did he wear them because he liked to? He looked down at his drink and then looked me in the eyes.
“I thought you had guessed that about me. Ever since that incident in the baby department. I guess I wanted you to know.” He paused a bit and then continued. “For some reason, I thought you would understand.” He paused again and took a small drink. “I have been wearing diapers on and off since I was about 16 or so. A long time.” He looked off in the distance over my shoulder.
“I am not real sure why I started. I mean, I started dressing in my sister’s clothes. She is two years younger than me when I was about 11 or 12. I loved wearing her panties and training bras, and shorts and dresses and swimsuits. Everything.” He paused again. “In fact, I still wear women’s clothes sometimes.
“Then one day, I don’t know why, but I thought it would be fun or sexy to pee in her panties. So I got a pair of cotton panties with little flowers on them and sat on the toilet and peed into them. It was so exciting.” I could tell by the way Frank was telling me all this, that these were things he needed to talk to someone about. Like a bursting dam, his history came pouring out.
“Anyway, I did that for a while, peeing in her panties whenever I got the chance. Sometimes I even did it outside. It was so exciting to feel my warm pee fill the crotch of her panties and then leak down my legs.” He took another small drink. “Then it progressed to pooping in them.” This he said in an even softer voice. He looked at me to see my reaction. I kept my face as placid as I could. In truth Frank was not telling me something that I hadn’t already surmised. Oh, the details I didn’t know, but the general idea that he had been a baby and probably a cross-dresser – because of his interest in toddler girl clothes – I had already figured out.
“Did anyone in your family ever figure it out, Frank?” I asked.
“My mom caught me once wearing my sister’s panties and dress, when I was like about 12. To my relief, she didn’t make a big deal out of it, just told me that I shouldn’t wear my sister’s things. She never told anybody else as far as I know. And to my knowledge she never did figure out about the peeing and pooping. I would always wash the panties out myself in the bathroom sink and then after they dried put them into the laundry.”
“And wearing diapers came out of those experiences?” I asked.
Frank nodded. “Seemed like the natural next step. After I got a part-time job, I went to an All-Mart – isn’t that funny – in my hometown and got my nerve up and bought some adult diapers. The clerk never blinked twice. I was prepared to tell her they were for my visiting grandfather but she never said anything.” Frank looked down at his drink. I hid them in the back of my closet under some sports clothes. I don’t think anyone ever found them. I would wear them at night. I t was fun but I really wanted more than just diapers. I wanted the whole baby experience – bottles, clothes, pacifiers. Plus,” and he hesitated again, “when I thought of myself as a baby I thought of myself as a baby girl. I loved their adorable little dresses and ruffled plastic rumba panties. The frillier, the better.” He smiled weakly up at me. “Pretty weird, huh?”
Another couple sat an adjoining table and I knew our conversation had to come to an end. I reached out and touched Frank’s hand. “Not at all, baby girl. I think it is so delightful. I would like to talk to you more about it. Maybe you could come over to my house sometime.”
Frank looked up at me and paused. “I have never told anybody any of this, Jim. But I think it is okay to tell you. I would like to continue our conversation.” We made plans for Frank to come over to my house. This would just be a further discussion of our mutual interests.
As I thought about our first meeting, Frank roused himself up on my lap. “Did baby have a nice nap?” I asked, holding his empty bottle up for him to see.
“Yeth, Da-da. Me had a berry nice nap. Nice dreams about me and Daddy.” Frank smiled up at me.
“Does baby want to play some more inside or maybe go outside to the yard?” I have a high privacy fence around my yard and a full size play set – swings, slide, teeter-totter.
` Frank looked at me and played with the hem of his dress. I could see him weighing whether he could go outside dressed as he was. “Maybe me can play inside some more, Da-da,” He finally said.
I smiled again. “That will be just fine, baby girl.” I let Frank slide off the couch onto the floor and he crawled over to the toys he had been playing with. He resumed his cheerful play with the baby toys and dollies. I went into the kitchen and retrieved his pacifier from the kitchen table. I brought it back into the living room and helped Frank place it in his mouth where he happily sucked on it.
I sat down and watched my baby girl play. I hoped Frank was enjoying himself as much as he appeared because I was certainly enjoying having him be my baby girl.
All Good Things.
This is a very nice story, it has been a while since I have commented on someone elses work here. This is a very pleasent read, I like the story and how you had set it all out. Don't try to worry too much about the replies.
You are bound to get the odd one or two or more. All good things comes to those who wait. As a saying goes and even the best story writers here, like mayself, do not always get lots of replies.
It does depend on the story rather than the author behind it. Even Miki another good author here has told me she has gotten only few replies before now to som,e though thankfuly, not all of her storys, but yes, she too has had some stories that have not fetched many replies to them.
I have many times mentioned this problem about people not supporting the ones who make the effort and contribute to this site who get little to no replies, or people pointing out grammer or spelling mistakes.
Those things I agreee help with stories, the whole point of this forum is so people can share their stories, good or bad. I sincerely hope that you get more replies to your story, if not, please do not think it reflects badly on your work.
Some peopel can be hard to pease in other cases, very easy to please. Above all and everything esle, is that you are happy and like your story and that you are proud of it. I know you would like others here to like your work and be proud of it as what you are, I too hoped those very same things.
I speack from personal experience how discouraging it can be when you do not get many replies, though some here may argue the viewing figures of your story shows how good or not so good a story to be.
I do not agree with a viewing figure system, even TV shos, really good ones like Stargate to CSI can be rise or fall because of viewing figures, even some really good shows being dropped because the lack of viewing figures.
On YouTube, I have at best 100 to 200 on one to 2 music videos of mine I have done, and others with no more than 20 views. My stuff is not bad, I know it isn't and I wont let big or small figure make me feel I am not doing good enough or I need to do more of the same just to please the viewing figures.
I do things for all and any to enjoy, I know I can not force people to like my work, nor would I want to force anyone do anything, I am proud of my work, I get less comments than views onm my music videos.
To me that is not a bad thing, I try very hard not to think of it in those terms. Though it is discouraging to see that, how other people mange to get 1,000+ views and comments on their videos is anyones guess, not just people doing outragious stuff, I have seen even a cooking video, get and have lots of both views and comments.
What I am trying to say here, is that do this more for you than anyone else, be proud, stay proud, treasure each view and comment both, that comes your way, that is what I do and try not to let lack of comments or views get to me, it still does, but at the end of the day the most important thing is that I am happy of my work and proud of it.
Where those give me comments etc. I treasure very much, so much so because I do do get little or very few comments, no matter how much hard work that I do or how good I feel my work to be.
If people are not comenting, or givin g out enough comments, that is a sad thing, but people alas are people. I sincerely hope that you continue, not only with this story, but write many other stories yet to come.
I Love Being A Sissy Pet Baby Girl.
'Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around. People come into our lives for a reason, a season, or a lifetime. Embrace all equally!'
Tags for this Thread