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Big Daddy’s Girls

Part 1 – Becoming One of His Girls

By Angel Belmont

Copyright 2017

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. All characters depicted are over the age of 18.

Chapter 1 – Secret Confession

It was a warm day in the early fall. Tuesday afternoons are among the slowest times in the confessional booths. Fredrick had the book in his hands, but was dozing; as he often did when it was his time to hear confession. Most days were uneventful. Retirees, mostly. He’d already heard old Glenda complain about her daughters not having a strong faith and her oldest having an affair and her youngest dating an Indian man. God forbid.

Fredrick was a young priest; only out of the seminary for a few months. His skin was fair and his hair was strawberry blonde, the same as his Irish parents and his many Irish sisters. He was always quick to volunteer, and was making a strong impression on the parish with his soft voice and thoughtful compliments. Though he never showed it outwardly, he was not having an easy time of it. He was the youngest, and newest, and sent to a church far from where he grew up for his first assignment. But he put on a smiling face and did what was asked of him – what was expected of him. The days felt long – another thing he never shared with anyone.

Fredrick was startled from his nod as the door abruptly swung open and shut with a new confessor. She had dark hair – straight and barely to her shoulders. She was short enough Fredrick had to sit up to see her face. She was obviously nervous. Sweating.

“Forgive me father for I have sinned,” she said, in an exasperated way, taking a deep breath after.

It was hard not to notice her English accent. Fredrick took a moment to observe her through the mesh. She was wearing a tight grey sweater and a red skirt that came to her knees. She would almost look like one of the catholic schoolgirls, but her clothes weren’t the right color or style of any school Fredrick had seen nearby. Nor are any of the schools for British girls. He waited long enough without hearing her continue to ask, “How long has it been since your last confession?”

The young woman met his eyes through the screen. “I’ve never been,” she answered.

This wasn’t what Fredrick was expecting. He looked at the honesty in her face. She had a cute little nose and dark eyes. She had one blemish, a little dark mole beside her right eye. He tilted his head and asked, “Are you catholic?”

“No,” she replied, looking down. “My grandmum was, but I don’t think I am.”

“Then why have you come to confess?”

She looked up. Fredrick could see the sweat building up on her temples. She softly bit her lip when she wasn’t speaking. “I have to tell you something,” she explained.

“What is it?” Fredrick asked. “Whatever it is, you can tell me?”

She raised her eyebrows. “Anything?”

“Of course. Nothing stands between us and god.”

She quivered a little on the bench. She shifted a little and looked up at the priest. “It’s a bit naughty,” she admitted.

Fredrick smiled at the young woman. Through his training – and his time already in the booth – he’s heard confessed many things. He was already guessing which of the common teenage girl sins he was going to have to add up ‘hail Marys’ for. Feelings for boys. Sometimes for girls. Masturbation was common, but less likely admitted. It’s all things covered in seminary. Few things surprise the modern clergy. “Are you afraid you’re going to shock me?”

“I know I will,” she answered.

Fredrick tried to hide his smile and said, “Please…”

The young woman trembled slightly and said, “I’m supposed to show you something.”

She grabbed the hem of her skirt and raised it up to her chest. Fredrick almost looked away, but kept his eyes on her. What she revealed wasn’t when the priest was expecting. It wasn’t the flesh of her flashed privates or even the panties covering them, but instead a bulky white plastic diaper. Several tapes reached toward the front, securing it to her.

Fredrick didn’t know how to respond. His first reaction was, “I- I- Are you… incontinent?”

“Does that mean I can’t hold it?” she asked, as she let her skirt fall, barely covering her undergarment. “I wonder sometimes. Sometimes I can feel it coming. But more and more I can’t help it.”

Fredrick took a deep breath, and stopped himself when he felt his head shaking. He said, “This is probably something you should talk to your doctor--”

“And there’s a plug in by butt,” the young woman interrupted.

Fredrick almost didn’t believe what he just heard. “W-what?”

“A big one. Bigger than I’ve had before. First it was the little ones. Now, most of the time I keep one in that only hurts a little. But this one…” She shifted a little in her seat and swallowed. “I can’t walk normal.”

Fredrick was beginning to feel sweat under his official collar. “Why?”

She answered, simply, “Big Daddy put in in.”

“B-Big daddy…? Who is Big Daddy?”

“He’s Big Daddy,” She said, like it should be obvious.

“And does he make you do these things?”

“Well, yes, but I trust Big Daddy knows what’s best for me. That’s why I signed the contract.”

“A contract?” Fredrick asked.

She nodded. “Oh, yes. Big Daddy insisted.”

“He made you sign a contract?”

“He didn’t make me,” the young woman said. “Just like he’s not going to make you.”

Fredrick felt a numbness in the back of his throat and a chill up his spine. “What? Who are you?”

“I’m Baby-Girl,” she said, and continued, “Big Daddy takes care of me and gives me his great big cock. He’s the bestest at taking care of me. If I’m good, he lets me cum every day. Sometimes with his cock, even though I still can’t get all of it in my giny. I want him in my bum too, but Big Daddy said I need to get it ready for him… He doesn’t want to hurt me.”

Fredrick coughed uncomfortably, then started to collect himself to leave. “I don’t know who put you up to this…”

“Ugh,” Baby-Girl let out a slightly pained expression. “Oh, no.”

Fredrick stopped and asked, “What’s wrong?”

Baby-Girl looked Fredrick dead in the eyes through the screen. “I have to go potty,” she said. He voice was small, like a little girl. She put her hands over the front of her diaper and rocked back and forth.

“There’s a bathroom down the hall,” Fredrick said.

Baby-Girl didn’t answer, but she stopped rocking. Suddenly, her eyes were filled with tears. She kept one hand on the front of her diaper as the other gripped the wall of the confessional beside her. Fredrick could hear it. Soft and steady. A hissing sound. Unmistakably of water against fabric.

“Are you…” Fredrick began to ask, “going?”

“I’m so so sorry,” Baby-Girl said, looking back with streaks of water down her face. She was breathing in short gasps that sounded like soft cries. The sound of her urinating grew quieter and quieter until there was only the sound of the crinkling of her plastic diaper as she squeezed her legs over the rapidly color-changing front of it.

Fredrick found himself frozen. He had never been put in such an impossible position. After a few moments listening to her sobs and waiting for words to come back to his mind, he asked, “Why are you here?”

Baby-Girl wiped her nose on her sleeve. She picked up a mobile phone she set next to her on the bench when she entered. “I’m looking for a little girl,” she said. She pressed a button and the screen came alive with light. She held the image toward the priest.

Fredrick squinted at the image. His eyes went wide. Then, he leaned away.

It was an image he has seen before.

A picture he took.

A skinny strawberry blonde, wearing a pretty pink dress with frills, and caked in make-up. The poor thing, trying with every ounce of energy to look like something he imagined.

Fredrick felt everything inside him fall, like a dark wind tugging at his soul. “Where did you f-find this?”

Baby-Girl replied, “Big Daddy found it on the internet. That’s where you put it, silly.”

“I- I- I-“

“It’s where you saw this,” Baby-Girl continued. She swiped once on the phone, looked at the new image, licked her lips, and turned to phone to face Fredrick. She bit her lip and waited for his reaction.

Fredrick was faced with the photo of a very large dick.

Some people are good with tricks of photography to make things look bigger than they are. If this was a trick, it was convincing. The cock had a wooden ruler resting along the length. There was more shaft at the base before the measuring started, and an inch or so past the twelve before the tip mushroomed.


Fredrick recognized it, as well.

“Don’t show me that,” he said, turning his head away, while his eyes followed the screen.

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