176.)

Admittedly, Blossom wasn't sure of her character yet, but Amy had played a kind of bossy college age girl with entitlement issues and that was easy to counter. Very dominant, lots of top energy, that kind of "always half-smiling, like you know the punchline ahead of time" demeanor. Aloof, maybe.

"Do you have a name in mind for me to use?"

"Oh, I guess Blossom was the name of the maid..." It wouldn't make sense for my character's girlfriend to also be named Blossom. But it took me hours to come up with names for the Academy protagonists: they all had to mean something. So I just went with the first thing that came to mind.

"Daisy?" I asked. Blossom-adjacent.

"Oh Daisy! Like Blossom. Love it. I would also have accepted Bubbles or Buttercup."

Shoot. Buttercup was a good one! I felt a pang of regret.

"How about you go wait in your room and I'll have just 'come home'," Blossom suggested. "Is there anything you want me to include or avoid?"

"Um, I don't know... just don't go too far. Like we talked about? And... check in maybe?" The more Blossom talked about this, the scarier it sounded. But giving her another name and pretending I was some entitled rich girl was helping a lot. It wasn't Amy and Blossom. It was Amanda and Daisy. That was different enough.

Blossom went into her room for something and I went upstairs, which was a little awkward. I figured we would just roleplay in the living room or the kitchen, like before, but maybe she wanted a venue change. A shift in the narrative. Right? I sat on the edge of my bed and smoothed out the creases in my jeans. I had to get in character.

Blossom was my maid. I could snap my fingers and make her do things. Powerful. I was usually in control of people. Daisy was my girlfriend? That's what Blossom said, right? We had roleplayed before. This wasn't that different.

When Blossom came into my room, she was wearing clothes. A tight top and a short skirt, though I could still see the top of her diaper. I felt a pang of disappointment. Why was I such a pervert sometimes?

"Amanda Elizabeth." Blossom didn't know where she got that - probably that podcast - but she needed a fake sounding middle name for impact. "What did you do to our maid? She's called me wanting to quit already."

Well, Elizabeth wasn't my middle name. Did Blossom even know my middle name? But I wasn't the same Amanda. It actually made it easier to stay in character.

"She doesn't know what she wants," I shrugged. "Give it a few days and she'll be happy to be here."

"You can't keep doing this to our help, Amanda. Do you know how hard it is to find candidates who are competent and meet your strict aesthetic requirements? That aren't already total bimbos?"

Blossom crossed her arms sternly and stood to one side of her weight, to give a little diaper rise peek while she talked.

"To be fair, I didn't think Blossom was competent when we hired her," I smirked. Blossom gave me a glare, and I couldn't quite tell if she was in character or out of character. So I said, "Listen, she isn't gonna quit. And she made great cupcakes today."

"Today it's cupcakes, tomorrow it's pushies. By the next day she won't even be able to walk. You go through your maids like broken toys, Amanda."

What would come next? Blossom could be seductive, she could be stern, she could be disappointed, she could be disciplinary... what would Amy enjoy the most?

"But... you're still my little girl, and if you're acting out like this... that's my failing, not yours. So I'll just have to make some changes around here."

I blinked. Wait, what? I thought Blossom was trying to be sexy, but it sounded more like she was babying me. Sure, the two overlapped a little bit in my mind, but I never thought of my character as a "little girl" to anybody.

Should I stop Blossom? Or roll with it? Maybe I could just push back a little...

"I'm your girlfriend," I corrected her. "And I have Blossom under control. You don't need to step in."

"I'm not stepping in, Amanda," Blossom wasn't sure how to read the pushback - in character, or out - but she had a good response for either case. "Clearly I'm not doing enough to manage my horny princess's libido, and so you're taking it out on the help. So I just need to take a little more hands-on approach."

Okay, that brought color to my cheeks. I hated the thought of being that much of a pervert, that I was attracted to anyone at all or that I had needs. But the way Blossom worded it, it almost sounded like I just needed attention, like a little kid.

I hesitated a little and shook my head. I felt a little out of sorts.

"I'm not taking it out on Blossom," I argued. "I'm... fine."

"Oh no no no, my darling Amanda. Clearly you just need some more… stimulation."

Blossom punctuated that last word with the loud click of the door closing behind her. How sinister!

I looked at the door handle, then up at Blossom, then down at my feet. This was beginning to feel more like a porno. Or, uh. I think so? I'd never seen a porno. Why would I, when I had ageplay smut to read?

Blossom took a few steps toward me, crinkling just a little, and I felt my face get hotter. I refused to look up at her, so I looked at the far wall, where the closet was.

"Don't look so nervous, sweetheart! You're never this nervous when you're snapping your fingers and rewriting the brains of those poor girls to be perfect little dolls for you to diaper and play with."

Blossom took a few more steps until she was up against the bed, and those final two words were spoken only once her hand was on Amy's cheek.

I didn't want to look up at Blossom, but she tilted my face with her hand until I was looking into her eyes. My cheek must have felt like fire on her palm. I had to say something, but I was struggling to keep up.

"They're my maids," I tried, stumbling over my words a little. "I can dress them however I want..."

"Mhm, and you're my girlfriend and I can dress you however I want."

With one little step, Blossom pushed Amy down onto her back, semi-pinning her down against the bed as she climbed atop the blushing girl.

Blossom had pushed me down on the bed a few times, but it was always followed by a quick turn on the heel to go to the closet and get a diaper. This time, she didn't turn on her heel. She climbed on top of me and her hair fell in curtains around my face.

"I... I don't think that's right," I muttered, trying to think of anything to say other than "nuh uh". But gosh, even with her clothes on, Blossom Brixley was too attractive to turn down.

"Oh, you don't think it's right that my little darling witch of a girlfriend has to do what I say? You don't think it's right that I can pin you down and…"

She kissed her on the lips. Just once. Just softly.

"Kiss you, whenever I like?"

"I dun have to do what you say," I muttered, a little lightheaded from the kiss. She was so close to me, and I could smell her body wash. Melon-scented. I had to remind myself that she was the one wearing the diaper. She was the one who wet herself. This version of Amanda was supposed to be in control of things.

"Oh you don't have to, but you do want to. You want to be a good girl for me, and you want to become the best possible good girl for your toys, don't you now, love? That's right - you do."

Blossom kissed her again; a kind of good-cop-bad-cop thing, only with kisses. And these kisses? They were good kisses. They were soft and desirable. You'd invite them home to meet your parents.

"Daisy..." I muttered. It took me a moment to remember her fake name, but saying it brought me back into character. It was centering. And then, her lips touched mine once more and I fell down the rabbit hole all over again.

"I know you don't mean to act out, and I know that with just a little love and affection, and some... enforced empathy, you'll be able to treat our hired help even better." Doing a "walk a mile in their shoes" kind of scene might have worked well here, but Blossom wanted to keep this more on the physical intimacy and less on the regression side of things. "You do want that, don't you?"

I felt my head nod. I didn't even know what I was agreeing to, not really. Blossom's words felt like a storm, and I was doing all I could just to stay above water. How was I supposed to contend with the Heavens?

"Good girl," Blossom said, and joy filled my chest. A simple call and response. The most basic and dependable of my instincts.

"Now you just lay there and let me do my work, Amanda Elizabeth."

There was that fake middle name again, but Blossom used it for the same reason: impact. As though the kisses that followed weren't impactful enough on their own. Or the fact that she moved one hand up to Amy's head and began to play with her hair. Gently at first, but then with more passion. Running fingers became tangling and tugging; small gentle kisses became flurries.

I felt my eyes flutter as Blossom kissed me and she dipped in and out of my vision. Her hand in my hair, pulling gently, moving my lips where she needed them to be. And her thighs against my hips, straddling me like a rocking horse. I could hear the ever-so-slight crinkle of her diaper and it sent shivers down my spine. When she finally took her lips off mine, my eyes were glossy and my thoughts were all in a row, like ducklings following their mother. Except mine followed Blossom.

When it came to sex, Blossom was experienced to say the least. She was confident, and self-assured, and knew exactly what she was doing - words, actions, setting; this was her domain.

"You're being such a good girl. Why can't you be this good when it comes to your toys?"

My toys. She meant the maids. Blossom. The girl I put in a diaper and made her wet herself. Jeeze, even the thought of having done that made me warm all throughout my body. I was trying to remember the character I was playing. Why did I do that to Blossom? Because I liked it? That was what Blossom - er, Daisy - was implying.

"They... um... are better off now..." I managed to say.

"They're better off now, are they? So you'll be better off too, when I put you in a diaper of your own and make you worship me the way you make them worship you?"

I quickly shook my head. Even in the heat of the roleplay, I knew that was wrong. Amanda didn't wear diapers; she made other people wear them! So I tried to sit up a little, making it onto my elbows.

"No way," I said as sharply as a toddler's plastic knife. Blossom was still sitting on me, on my hips, and she gave me a curious smile. Her hands were on my stomach, but they slowly moved to the button on my jeans. I felt an ache of panic, but she didn't unbutton them. Instead, she lifted her skirt, flashing the black plastic of her soggy diaper. The ache of panic turned into butterflies.

"No way? And with me dressed up so attractively for you, Amanda? You have your gorgeous six-foot-something girlfriend, sitting on top of you, in her diaper, kissing you, squirming and crinkling with every single movement." She wriggled her hips with those last three words. "But you'd rather I... stop? You'd rather play with your toys instead?"

I looked up at Blossom - Daisy, I reminded myself - and then back down at her diaper with a blush. Her diaper, pressed against the front of my jeans. The reason I put my maids in diapers in the first place was because I liked them, right? And now my girlfriend was wearing one too. It wasn't hard to piece together my response.

"N-no..." I admitted.

"That's what I thought, sweet girl."

With a smile, Blossom took Amy by the hand. With plenty of time for her prone lover to pull away or redirect, she began to guide Amy's fingertips towards the plastic of her diaper.

I'd touched Blossom's diaper before, along the hips or sometimes the waistband. I'd cupped her butt once or twice, in rare moments, But I'd never touched the front. I'd never pressed my fingertips to the soggy padding between her legs. And when I did, I felt my whole body light up like Christmas tree lights. The old kind, that got hot and you had to turn them off before you went to bed. The kind that were dangerous and beautiful.

"There we go, see? That's not that hard now, is it?" Blossom had left her hand in place at first, temporarily, and twirled her hair with her other hand to accentuate her coy smile. "Tell me what it feels like, Amanda. Tell me what it feels like to touch my diaper."

"Daisy..." I muttered, trying to dodge away from the question.

"Oh, don't be so shy," Blossom cooed. "You've always had a thing for them. You dress up all your toys in them. So tell me."

I didn't want to! But I didn't want to interfere with the roleplay, either. Daisy was my girlfriend. She knew I liked diapers. She was wearing one to steer my attention away from the maids. My thoughts were cloudy.

"It feels... thick..." I mumbled. "And makes me... feel hot..."

"It makes you... feel hot? My princess, who dresses all her toys in diapers; it makes you feel hot, to touch mine? It makes your breath catch in your throat? It makes... your heart race, just a little bit? It makes your cheeks glow, doesn't it? Tell me what you like most about it, about my diaper, about touching my diaper?"

I was a little out of breath. Blossom's words drilled into me like oil rigs into the earth. I was helpless to stop them. And the more she described how I felt, the more I felt those things. She took my other hand and pressed it to her hip, to the wing of the diaper, and made it crinkle between my fingertips.

"You're just... cute, and... I dunno..." Why did I find diapers sexy? Who the fuck knew! But for Amanda - the character - part of it was the status symbol. The control. So I added quickly: "They make you mine. And you belong to me..."

"Ohh, I see." She flashed a knowing smile, a cheeky one at that, and let the preponderance run its course. "I'm wearing a diaper, the way that sometimes... girls and boys might wear a wedding ring, or.. or a collar, right? And that makes me yours? Is that it?"

I nodded quietly. Wearing a diaper was inherently submissive to me. It was a concession of rights. But I didn't feel very dominant, pinned underneath her like that. Even as I touched her diaper, as I reminded the both of us what she was wearing, I didn't feel like I had a lot of control.

"So it makes me yours... but you're the one laying on the bed. It makes me belong to you, but you're beneath me. It makes you in control, but you're not even controlling your fingers as they run across my diaper. You're always making your toys wear diapers, but you're the one right now being played with like a doll. Maybe...you need diapers. Not to wear, maybe not always, but maybe you need them.... to feel...turned on, mm? Your dominant girlfriend sitting on top of you in her diaper, and you can't help but touch, and fiddle, and fixate~"

"I do not..." I argued, but there was no certainty in my voice. No confidence. And my hands stayed where they were, on Blossom's hip and between her legs. I didn't even realize how heavy my breathing was.

Then Blossom pulled away from me. She got up. She got off of me. I stared dumbfounded at the space where she was, and then I sat up to stay close to her. She stood in front of me, unzipping the side of her skirt, and letting it fall to the ground. Then her fingers tugged the hem of her shirt, and stripped it off over her head.

And there was Blossom, in nothing but a soggy diaper and a bra. Again.