177.)

"Um..."

Blossom took a step forward and put a finger under my chin. Her taut stomach was in line of sight for just a moment until she steered my gaze up into hers.

"Put your hand on my hip," she said. A simple instruction. So I did. The plastic crinkled under my touch, and she didn't let me break eye contact. Gosh...

"Now put your other hand... exactly where you want it to be."

It was both a direction and an invitation. But following it meant being both obedient and candid.

I raised my hand and reached out to touch her, but I hesitated. I didn't know what I wanted. Or, maybe I was thinking too much. I tried to pull away a little from Blossom, but she kept my eyes on hers.

Blossom took Amy's hand gently by the wrist and decided that she had to take a more hands-on approach to things - pardoning the pun.

"You're always so wound up in what you do with your toys, and now that you have a willing volunteer, you don't even know what you want, do you?"

Boldly, Blossom guided her girlfriend's hand towards her left boob, clad in the lacy bra that matched her diaper.

"Is this where you want to touch?"

My cheeks burned. I was still sitting on the edge of the bed and Blossom was leaning down a little. I'd never touched her chest like that, not on purpose, not in a lewd way. It felt wrong. I felt like I should take my hand back. But before I could, Blossom stepped forward and rested her knee on the bed beside me. Then she crawled up onto my lap. My hand slid around her hip to the back of her diaper, and she pressed her breast into my hand a little more.

I felt an urge stir up in my stomach, pushing through all my veins and forcing my muscles. To lean up. To kiss her.

"A diapered girl in your lap, and you're touching her boobs,” Blossom narrated. “You're close enough to feel her heat, to feel my heat."

Blossom was focused on Amy's eyes, on the girl who looked so helpless, so lost, and so so so needy. She wanted Amy to give into her own impulses and initiate. She wanted that so much. But maybe she was too impatient, maybe she was too needy herself to wait. Maybe she'd just...

Yup. Blossom leaned close, and she kissed Amy. She couldn't help herself; how could she?

My hand squeezed the seat of Blossom's diaper. My other one squeezed her ample chest through her bra. My lips crashed on hers like waves on a shore. Then I lost my balance and my back hit the bed. I looked up at Blossom with stars in my eyes.

"Scoot up," Blossom said, in a bit of a whisper. Slightly out of character. Bluey-esque.

I slid up. I moved so that my head was on a pillow. Then Blossom climbed on top of me again and leaned down. She kissed me again and my hand found the wing of Blossom's diaper. The other found her breast, hesitating every so slightly, until she leaned into my hand.

"You're doing great," Blossom whispered in the breaks for air between kissing, her words shuddery like the cadence of her heartbeat. She ran her own hand down Amy's side, to her hip, to her thigh, and back up again, drawing white lines on her skin with the gentle raking of her nails.

I squirmed under Blossom as she lifted my shirt, as she touched my bare stomach, and as she cupped my own bra in her hand. As she squeezed. As I squeezed hers. As my hand shifted to Blossom's bare thigh, to the leg band of her diaper. To the front of her diaper, where it squished. Because she was wet. Because she'd wet her diaper.

I was well and truly lost in the throes of passion when Blossom turned her face away. I kissed the corner of her lips, like I'd missed a target. I tried again, but this time she pulled away altogether. Then she pushed on my chest, on my bra, and held me down on the mattress. She leaned forward, touched my lips to hers - just barely! - and pulled away. Energy spiraled through me like a wind up spring. I tried to sit up and kiss her again, but she held me firmly down.

"Tell me what you want, Amanda. Tell me what you want to do to me, tell me what you want me to do to you. Tell me every little word in that pretty little head full of thoughts you have, my smutty little toy. And I'll make every dream come true."

Amy was in a bit of a frenzy. Blossom was too, to be honest. And she had sat up to do a check-in, but prompting Amy for a question was almost as good because it would force her out of her frenzied state for at least a moment. Maybe.

Blossom continued holding her down, pinned in place like an art piece.

"I... wanna kiss you..." I said between labored breaths. My hand was still on her bra, so I squeezed it just a little to make a point.

"One kiss?" Blossom teased.

"No, just... kisses..." I whined. I actually whined. It wasn't even on purpose, but my insides felt tight and aching. I felt like all my muscles were ropes in a theater, with sandbags on the ends. I tried to lean up again and Blossom held me down. The helplessness was starting to dawn on me, and that only made the aching feel tighter. Gosh, I needed her...

"You want kisses. You want to roll around on the bed, on top of me, beneath me, on top of me, beneath me; trading kisses and heat while my diaper crinkles between us, while every moment makes the plastic sing like a choir. That's what you want?"

Blossom looked over her shoulder at the closet, past the sliding doors and straight at the trunk of diapers that was behind them.

"Or maybe the crinkling should be louder... more harmonized?"

Sure, okay! Blossom's words were great and all! She was great at taunting me. But this felt more taunting than ever before. I didn't care about her words; I wanted the lips that spoke them!

"Just kiss me," I said, trying to sound demanding. But Blossom didn't. She had all the power at that moment.

"Use your lips to beg me to diaper you, and I'll use my lips to kiss you."

Truly, no diplomatic standoff had ever carried such high stakes. Her demands were simple and clear. Blossom reasserted the pressure holding down Amy's wrists beneath her, and bounced a little bit, just so Amy would feel the diaper against her tummy.

Blossom's diaper squished against my bare stomach and she held down my wrists. And I felt so small under her. So helpless. I remembered I had a character to play, a character that would never agree to something like that. Right? But gosh...

"I... I dun wanna wear a diaper," I tried, sounding wholly unconvincing. The truth was, I did want to wear a diaper. I was really betraying my character. So I tried again. "I said... kiss me, so you gotta... I said so..."

"Oh don't you worry, Amanda; I have plans for little girls who spend too much time saying so. All you need to do is tell me you want to be diapered like one of your little toys, and I'll kiss you. I'll kiss you a dozen times, a hundred maybe. I'll rock my diaper against yours and I'll kiss you until you can't even breathe."

"But..." I hesitated. I shouldn't. My character would say no! Right? I tried to sit up again, but Blossom reminded me how helpless I was beneath her. How, to get what I wanted, I had to play her game. Maybe it was more in character than I thought...

"Fine... just... hurry up..." I pouted, squirming between Blossom and the mattress.

That wasn't exactly begging for it, but Blossom also didn't want to underappreciate Amy’s efforts. So she played it both ways; she'd give her what she wanted, but she'd call out that she expected better next time.

"Good girl, Amanda. And that's not the world's best begging, so next time I know you'll try even harder."

Blossom slid off the girl, off the bed, and went over to fetch the supplies she needed.

I could move again. I could think again. I felt like I had an ounce of control. But I didn't like it. It made me self-conscious. It made me wonder if all the things I had done so far were mistakes. Touching her chest. Rubbing her butt. Kissing her like that. So when Blossom came back to the bed with a diaper in hand - one of the bunny ones - I asked:

"Is this okay? Am I doing anything wrong...?"

"No, this isn't just okay, this is fricking amazing." Blossom had to control her gushing, so she bit her lip. "Are you okay? I don't want to lose momentum, but I want to make sure you're good before we continue."

I nodded. I was okay. I thought so, anyway. I wasn't having a panic attack. I was just scared. So, before Blossom switched back into character, I added: "Not too much, okay? This is good, but... not too much..."

"You got it, babes. You know your colors, and you're doing great."

"Oh, and um. I'm liking this. The, uh... angle... with my character's kink..."

I just wanted to give that final note.

Blossom nodded her head in confirmation and mounted again - both the bed and the girl atop of it. She set down the diaper on the bed sheets next to Amy's head, so close to her; a preview of what she'd be wearing.

I looked over at the diaper on the bed, the pink one, and thought about my character's backstory. All the maids, the black diaper Blossom was wearing... yeah, this kind of print would be unfamiliar to me.

"Wait, where did you get that?" I huffed. "That's not one of the diapers I bought... that looks like it's for a little kid!"

"It's not for a little kid, Amanda; it's for you. It's your diaper, and you're going to be wearing it. And it's going to remind you that we are not the same; I'm sexy in my black diaper, my adult lingerie, my everything. Your aesthetic is childish and juvenile, because that's what you are. You play with toys all day and now it's time you dressed the part."

As if seeking to run out the clock for any meaningful retort, Blossom kissed Amy to stop her from trying her words.

That little monologue really hit hard. I knew Blossom was a little more into diapers as a sex thing than I was, and classifying her kind of diapers as different than mine really struck a chord. It reverberated all through my body, and Blossom's lips on mine kept it ringing inside me, unable to escape. By the time I remembered how to speak, Blossom had unfolded the pink bunny diaper and was stripping off my pants.

"I'm... not childish... my maids, um..." Jeeze, Amanda! Pull it together!

"Your maids are your toys, and you're mine, Amanda. It's time for you to learn what it means to be played with, isn't it?"

Blossom had, for her part, gotten quite good at the whole diapering process. Getting the pants off, the panties following, sliding the diaper under as noisily as possible. It was a routine she was equally proud and aroused to have ingrained into herself. She pinched Amy's butt to get her to lift up.

I hated this part. I hated the "you're naked with your legs spread" part. So I didn't even argue with Blossom until she was taping the diaper on my hips, just in case it delayed the process any longer.

"I'm not a toy," I pouted. "I'm just wearing this 'cause you weren't kissing me!" Yeah, like that was a good excuse.

"If all it takes is for kisses to be withheld for you to beg to be diapered like a little baby girl, then you belong in diapers. But I think we both already knew that, didn't we?" Blossom winked as she finished her taping job and rubbed the pink plastic that crinkled between her girlfriend’s legs.

"That's......." I wanted to argue with Blossom, either in character or out of it. But I couldn't. I couldn't come up with any good reason why a grown woman would wear a diaper just for a couple kisses. Once again, the helpless feeling started to wash over me.

Once Amy was safely and successfully diapered, Blossom didn't waste any time climbing back on top of her. She made sure that their lips touched first - in fact, she kept her hips up and away from Amy's so their diapers wouldn't touch. Not yet, anyway.

All my arguments and protests seemed to ebb away as Blossom's lips touched mine. As her hand grabbed mine and put it on her hip. As her other hand put my hand back on her chest, on the cup of her bra. Like we had never left. And then, she planted her diapered butt on the front of my diaper, and the crinkling was louder than before. My heartbeat was louder too.

"That's so much better: two girls, two diapers, infinite kisses."

Heeding the request from the check-in, Blossom did her best to make certain it wasn't too much for her little munchkin. She kissed her, yes. She groped her, yes. She encouraged her to fondle her ample chest, yes. But the movements of diaper against diaper were... restrained. Experimental. Careful.

Every time our lips would part, Blossom had some other comment to whisper in my ear. About how cute I was. How I was the best toy to play with. How diapers suited me perfectly. How even my maids were more mature than me, wearing black or white diapers.

I shook my head in protest, but my hand slid off Blossom's chest and around her hip. To her butt. I pulled her toward me, into me, and arched my back while we kissed. Her diaper against my diaper. I whimpered in a wonderful way, in an embarrassing way. I was really turned on.