Little Missy's Ride

Riding double with Dirk Manley on his black stallion is the perfect afternoon for little Missy. Her big will hold her steady, even at a trot, though bouncing up and down on the saddle is having certain, ah, effects. Too bad another of the Dairy’s guests tags along for the ride beside the creek. Pesky Mr. Henderson keeps hanging around, and Missy’s not pleased at all when Dirk gives him a lesson on being a big.

The man of the house has spoken, and it’s up to Missy to obey, even before she understands that he always knows best. He’ll give her a second chance to help with Mr. Henderson’s education, and they’ll all enjoy this lesson.

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There's quite a lot of naughty stuff, lots more than I can put in the description at Amazon. They won't even let Missy call Dirk "Daddy," there. Have a little taste:

We left the creek and headed up a dirt road between fields. “I want to check the hay,” Daddy yelled over his shoulder. “We’ll cut it soon.” To me he said, “Would you like to ride in the tractor with me when we mow?”

“Yes, please, Daddy.” I’d do anything with him, and stupid Mr. Henderson wouldn’t be there. “Um, Daddy? I really need to pee.” What I wanted was to squat by a fencepost or something and let fly, because I wasn’t happy about him sharing something that was just Daddy’s and mine, like when I wet in my diaper.

“That’s fine, Missy.” Daddy was missing the point here.  “We’ll head back to the creek and find a picnic spot, Joe. I’ve seen everything I need to see.” He swung Sylvester’s head back into the cottonwoods.

The creek was pretty, but it was rushing water, and its song sounded like, “Pee, Missy, pee. Pee, pee, pee.” That water wanted me to flow like it did. “Daddy, I mean it, I really need to pee.” My whisper had a tinge of anger, something that usually brought swift punishment. Daddy wasn’t reacting to it, distracted, I guess.

“Like now, Daddy. Let’s get off the horse and let me pee.” Maybe begging would work.

“Won’t be necessary.” He dropped his hand into my crotch and tickled my pussy through the diaper. I really hoped Mr. Henderson wasn’t watching us. “Go ahead.”

Oh hell, he had his finger half into my cunt through the diaper. I couldn’t hold it. My bladder cut loose, my pee flowed out, a long stream. I soaked that diaper but good. Daddy checked for mushiness and moved his hand back around my waist. I couldn’t see his face but I could feel that man smiling.

We rode, and I squished, along the creek until we came to a picnic table. Daddy halted us, and swung from the wide saddle. He lifted me down. I was still mad about being forced to pee, and it must have showed on my face. My diaper was bloated with tinkle, and I was mad about that too.

“Didn’t you enjoy the ride, Missy?” Mr. Henderson tied his dapple gray to the next tree from where Daddy tied Sylvester. The big black stallion let his enormous black and blotched prick down, and a yellow river gushed from it. I watched, partly fascinated, and partly that I didn’t want to look at Mr. Henderson. He checked where I was looking. “Well, well.”

“The ride was fine.” I had to be polite.

“Little Missy here’s cranky, and will be until I change her pants.” Daddy fished his satchel out of the saddle bag. “Come, Missy. We’ll take care of that.”

In front of Mr. Henderson! My mouth dropped open, but Daddy had given me instructions that had to be obeyed. I followed his beckoning finger to the picnic table. He lifted me up to sit on it, and lowered me down flat. My legs dangled, and I had nowhere to put them except to lift, or maybe rest my heels on Daddy’s shoulders. Sometime we did that when he fucked me, but Mr. Henderson didn’t get to see that. I settled for splaying frog style, under my Daddy’s approving gaze.

He stripped off my purple shorts and unfastened the tabs on the puffy diaper. I’m so slender that I can fit into the largest toddler size, so I had the real deal on, complete with cartoon characters on the front.  He paused before exposing me, and I hoped he’d tell our unwelcome companion not to look.

“Ever changed a diaper, Joe?”

“Can’t say that I have, Dirk.” Mr. Henderson remained by the horses.

I considered draping my arm over the edge of the picnic table and flipping him the bird, but I probably wouldn’t be able to keep Daddy from seeing and then he’d paddle me for manners, and Mr. Henderson would surely get to watch. I kept my resentment to myself.

“It’s a skill every man needs. Get over here, I’ll show you.”

 

 
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