Lucy's Checkup and Baby Sara by Darla PhelpsDaddy knows best and a full head-to-toe check up is just what this doctor orders, much to Lucy's dismay. When Andy spots Sara in his toy store, there's something about her that tickles his Daddy bone. Two ageplay stories.
Lucy’s Checkup and Baby Sara, two previously published short stories by ageplay author Darla Phelps, joined together for the first time, revised and released in one volume.
Lucy’s Checkup: When Lucy’s ”Daddy” decides to travel out of the country, it’s off to the doctor’s he goes with Lucy firmly in tow. A full head-to-toe checkup is just what this doctor orders, much to Lucy’s dismay. But ”Daddy” knows best, and he knows exactly how to make her behave when she is reluctant to take her shots.
Baby Sara: When Andy spots Sara in his toy store, there’s just something about her that tickles his ’Daddy’ bone. When she slips out of the store with a small stack of coloring books and a new box of crayons, leaving payment shyly tucked into the empty spot in the aisle, that’s when Andy knows: Sara Miller is the very special person he’s been looking for. Now all he has to do is make her his!
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Lucy's Checkup and Baby Sara (Sample Chapter)
Lucy's Checkup and Baby Sara - two Ageplay stories
© Darla Phelps and Red Hot Romance, 2013
It was after hours and the front waiting room of Doctor Milton's at-home office was closed. The sun had long since set, lights had coming on all across the city and it was now well into the supper hour. The heavy three foot tall Zenith radio had been trumpeting orchestra music to help ease the doctor's daytime patients, mostly farmers, scholars and teachers (like Daddy) who had thus far managed to hang onto their University jobs despite the worst that the Great Depression had thrown at the relatively small town of Presque Isle, Maine. But when Daddy had dragged his very reluctant little girl/wife into the waiting room, for his last patient of the day, Doctor Milton had changed the channel to The Lone Ranger Hour. Currently, the hero was doing his level best to get poor Tonto beat up by the bad guys, but Lucy wasn't listening to what was playing on the four-station radio.
Somewhere in the back of the house where Doctor Milton had his examining room, Lucy could hear the occasional rustling sound as he sorted through and made ready his tools of trade. Her imagination was working overtime and the very thought of what she might find when Daddy made her go back there made Lucy shudder.
They were the only ones left in the waiting room. Even the nurse who came twice a week to help with the paperwork, had left because Doctor Milton said he didn't need her. Just a routine checkup, he'd told the nurse, but Lucy knew better. She and Daddy were only two days shy of departing for a trip to South America, and Daddy wanted a full checkup performed, including inoculations.
Daddy sat quietly on the waiting bench, staring out one of the open windows with Lucy on his lap and curled up for comfort against his chest. He was still in his working suit and bow tie since he'd spent all his spare time once arriving home in trying to get her ready for this appointment. It had been a fight to drag her out of her playhouse (where she'd tried to hide) and into her gingham dress, the fancy blue and yellow one that tied in the back and with the ruffled pinafore that wasn't so fussy that it detracted from the dress. White knee socks and black buckle-down shoes made her look much younger than her twenty-three years. It was a look that would have caused quite a few stares as they'd walked down the street together, if not also for the plain brown coat that Daddy let her wear whenever they went out in public and she was in her little girl clothes. The coat covered her. Only her socks and shoes showed, but it would have taken another daddy or little girl to recognize her slightly odd choice of foot and legwear for what they really were.
Lucy had been Daddy's wife for almost four years now, but she had been his little girl almost from the day they'd first met. She was his little girl right now, in fact, sitting on his lap, her thumb seated deep in her mouth and her other had clutching at the sleeve of his coat. She didn't want to be here. She hated shots, passionately. It might even be accurate to say she was deathly afraid of them. Needles were sharp, scary, and they hurt when they punctured into her.
She suckled her thumb harder and faster, a worried sucking. Her bottom was tingling, and not just from the little hand spanking Daddy had given her for all her earlier struggles and misbehaviors. No, her bottom was tingling because she knew that was where the inoculations were going to go. Those great, big, nasty needles, all of them—she shuddered.
"Don't worry so," Daddy soothed, petting the wisps of her bangs back from her face. He adjusted the big white bow that swept her blonde curls into a ponytail behind her. "I'm going to be with you the whole time. It's going to be all right."
Except that it wasn't, and Lucy knew it. Because if it was all right, then she wouldn't be here getting an examination in the first place and she certainly wouldn't be getting a shot.
She sucked even more furiously, and the horror of her situation became that much more complete as the doctor step into the doorway and say, "Okay, Lucy. I'm ready for you now."
She closed her eyes with a stifled mew, but Daddy patted her hip and made her get off his lap. Holding her hand, he led her into the back. He tugged her out ahead of him and directed her to walk past Doctor Milton into the examining room.
Lucy's legs quit wanting to carry her about halfway across the threshold. She froze just inside the room, staring at the dreaded exam table, with its empty stirrups waiting patiently to hold her legs and feet. Doctor Milton had even brought out the special stirrups, the ones with the buckles that he only used on his little girl patients, instead of the regular ones meant for his more traditional customers. These stirrups were special because they were the ones he'd created for his own little girl-wife, Molly, who was no doubt upstairs at this very moment, playing in her room with her Nanna.
Those stirrups straps weren't the only buckles on the table, either. Doctor Milton had pulled them all out: the wide waist strap that normally hid beneath the table's padding, as well as the restraints at the opposite end where her hands would have to go. Necessary, the doctor had once told her, because sometimes little girls needed help in holding still.
His own Molly was a wiggler, too. Just like Lucy. She knew this because during her last examination, Doctor Milton had told Daddy that. Not only did Molly sometimes have to be restrained before her weekly exam, but sometimes Doctor Milton had to give her a thorough dose of his belt before she would behave.
Lucy gulped. That was exactly what Daddy had threatened her with unless she was a very good girl and minded what Doctor Milton told her. She had promised, but it was one of the most reluctant promises she'd ever made in all her life. Her fingers fidgeted in the ruffled folds of her dress. Already, she wasn't sure she'd be able to keep it.
"Come on," Daddy said, and ushered her further inside.
"The first thing we need to do," the doctor said, "is to get her out of those clothes."
That meant everything. Although she knew his regular patients were allowed to keep their slips on for modesty, Lucy never was. She was always stripped right down to her skin and made to stand naked and blushing and small in front of both Daddy and the doctor.
Siloam Springs was just big enough town for a Wal-Mart, but everybody knew if you wanted toys you went to Andy's. Andy's had everything. There were three aisles devoted to action figures, four with nothing but dolls, and more than one child had been known to lose his mind in the stuffed animals section. Puzzles and games lined the whole east wall. There was even a section devoted to arts and crafts, where six ten-foot racks for coloring books had been sandwiched in between the playdough and the Learn-To-Read electronics. It was the coloring books that interested Sara Miller, and Sara Miller interested Andy.
There was just…something about her. Something in the way she looked, all grown up, certainly. If forced to hazard a guess, he would say she must be close to thirty years old. But there was just something that tickled at his 'Daddy' bone. Maybe it was because she wore her hair up in twin pony tails. Some women did, and that didn't necessarily mean anything, but with Sara…
Maybe it was the coveralls. Jean coveralls with stars embroidered on the back pockets, well-worn in the seat and knees where the fabric was a shade lighter than the surrounding denim. His eyes kept drifting to her bottom, seeking any hint of a bulge in the waist or leggings that might suggest a diaper, but those coveralls were too baggy. If she wore one, they hid her secret well.
Andy leaned over the checkout counter, elbows braced on the brown Formica, his large hands clasped together and hiding his pursed lips as he unabashedly studied her. There wasn't a single other customer in the store, but then he had only opened the doors ten minutes ago and the day was early yet. Still, the quiet left him with plenty of time to observe Sara, to watch as she skimmed her fingers lightly along the tops of the books, walking slowly up and down the aisle, past the Disney and Barbie, uninterested in G.I. Joe. She paused over the Looney Tunes. Those coloring books were on the second to bottom rows, and she bent down just a bit to get a better look.
Andy knew his store offered two Looney Tune coloring books, both were big with well over a hundred pages of black and white pictures and cartoon activities, mazes and connect the dots. After a moment's hesitation, she reached down and took them both.
Andy pretended to look out the window when she glanced back over her shoulder at him, but from the corner of his eye, he saw it when she looked away and his gaze promptly returned to her. Hugging the books to her chest, she turned towards the crayons. With barely concealed childlike enthusiasm, she reached for the biggest box. Two hundred and forty-four colors, with two each of the most popular shades.
Again his 'daddy' bone was tickled. Most kids these days went for the colored pencils or the water soluble markers. Crayons pretty much gathered dust on the shelves, but Andy still kept a full stock of them. Sentimental, but silly—especially for a business.
Sara lifted the box top and looked inside, running her fingers along the tops of certain colors much as she'd done with the coloring books. She turned the box on its side to look at the built-in sharpener and she was, apparently, sold.
Once again she peeked at him and he pretended to be engrossed by activities outside the front window. She hesitated. Instead of coming up to the checkout counter to pay for her treasures, eyeing him the whole time and fiddling with her books and crayons, she reached into her pocket.
Andy tensed. Just as he was beginning to think he might have to put on his shoplifter running shoes, she pulled something out. Stuffing it into the space where the box of crayons had been and hugging her prize to her chest, she very nonchalantly moseyed her way to the back of the store and rounded the corner to put another aisle between her and him. By the time she popped out again at the front of the store, she had nothing in her hands.
"Good bye," she said softly, and left the store. As if afraid of pursuit, she ran all the way to the bus stop down the road.
Halfway afraid that he might have just let a shoplifter rob him blind, Andy walked down the aisle to see what she had left him. It was a twenty dollar bill. He knew the cost of the books she'd taken, as well as the crayons. She had just given up four dollars and some change to save herself the embarrassment of walking up to the checkout counter with toys that he now knew without a doubt were meant for herself.
Andy's 'daddy' bone was more than just tickled now. Every fiber of his being was vibrating and fixed on Sara.
He drew a deep breath, imagining he could still detect the soft scent of her in the air. He smiled as he recognized the faint smell of baby powder.
Playing with the money in his hand, Andy walked back to his register to log the sale. He was determined; he wanted to know her better. If her odd little behavior here meant what he hoped it did—his pulse quickened at the thought—than little Sara Miller was going to be his.
* * * * *
Andy wasn't particularly fond of Munches, but he attended the next six meetings without fail on the slim hope that he might catch another glimpse of Sara. Since the first time that he'd seen her in his store, he hadn't taken a day off of work despite the fact that he had four employees and two designated days off. He still went every day, hoping he'd see her again.
Once, he thought he'd caught a glimpse at the bus stop in front of Logan's convenience store, but by the time he managed to dodge traffic and pull into the parking lot, she was aboard the seven-twelve (if it had been her at all) and the bus had rumbled back out into traffic. Squelching the urge to pursue was quite possibly the hardest thing he'd ever done. But there was a very fine line between charming attentiveness and stalking. The last thing Andy wanted to do was scare her.
Although Sara didn't seem the sort of girl to attend a Fetishists' Munch, Andy was running out of options. He knew her name only because she had contributed to the same school fund raiser that he had last summer, but that was it. He had already searched the phone book only to discover that her number was unlisted, and a Web search of her name and town had pulled up nothing. His only other option at this point was to start canvassing neighborhoods in the hopes that he might accidentally knock on the right door.
"Excuse me," he'd say, "but here's your change from the store the other day. And by the way, I'd like to be your Daddy."
There was that fine line again.
"Are you going to play tonight?"
Andy startled from his thoughts and turned to Sheila Burg. "I'm sorry, what?"
The cute little blonde settled into a chair beside him, clad only in a shiny black latex bustier and matching g-string panties, which squeaked when she sat. She playfully pouted. "I asked if you wanted to play tonight? You could take me into the back room and make me behave myself."
Sheila would have made a darling little girl. She had short blonde hair that curled about her face in tight little ringlets, baby blue eyes, and she had that pout practiced to perfection. Andy had a white sleeper suit at home with little yellow bunnies on it that would have fit her perfectly. He also had a wooden-backed hairbrush that wouldn't have done her bottom a lot of good, but the rest of her could definitely have benefitted from a daily dose. Unfortunately, Sheila was a pain slut, into collars and whips and borderline-cruel masters. There weren't any here today, so although she wasn't looking for a daddy, Andy would do.
He gave her a smile anyway. "Not tonight, thanks anyway."
Sheila pouted enticingly, but she was just submissive enough not to argue.
Andy had about decided that this was yet another fruitless Munch when the front door opened and Rebecca (one of the group's organizers) walked in, and she wasn't alone. A beautiful and familiar little brunette with wide, hesitant eyes followed at her heels.
"Look who I found in the parking lot," Rebecca announced.
It was Sara Miller, in the flesh.
Or rather, in bright hot-pink pants and a soft white sweater. She looked good. Any grownup woman in an outfit like that would have, and any normal man wouldn't have seen much beyond the visage of beauty that Sara presented to the world. It took a Daddy to see beneath the surface and recognize the significance of the soft pink ribbon that tied back her hair, with its large bow resting just behind her bangs. Two more ribbons peeked out from between her shoes and the hems of her pants. They were affixed to her white ankle socks. She wore no makeup and no jewelry beyond a small charm bracelet on her right wrist. She didn't even have a watch, and as Andy watched her, he knew of a certainty that Sara was nowhere near grown up enough for that kind of thing.
Her change from the store was burning a hole in his pocket, but Andy restrained himself.
"This is Sara," Rebecca said brightly, and the ten people who made up the Munch dutifully directed their attention to the newcomer. "She's a novice to this sort of thing. So, let's make her feel welcome."