Abby – Chapter Three
“No, no! The pink one!” Alice shouted at me while scrambling through my drawers to find a bow or hair tie or something. I wasn’t paying close attention.
“The pink one is too short!” I shouted back from inside the closet, rapidly searching through every formal dress I had.
“It’s not too short; you didn’t try it on yet!” Alice walked over to the closet casually. She obviously found what she was looking for or she would still be in a hurry. Pushing me out of the closet politely, she grabbed the pink dress she had been talking about earlier and handed it to me.
“Too short,” I told her sternly.
“Put it on then, and we’ll find out.”
“I hate dressing up for the dance!”
“You love dressing up for the dance.” She was still in my closet, searching for something.
“Not when I can’t wear underwear.” That caught her attention and she came out of the closet to peer at me.
“Abby, you’ve done it nearly ten times now. Your dress always goes past your butt, and it’s not like people dance with you anyway.” She was completely right. This would be the ninth dance I’d been to in my training pants over the past four and a half years. Daddy hosts these dances once a month. I do enjoy them, even though I do have to work. I’m the server. I’m to dress up in a cute frilly dress and carry around drinks to everyone. It only lasts an hour, even though the dance goes all night. After an hour, people go to the table for drinks. I just help start the party. After my hour of work is up, I am allowed to do anything I want as long as I do not disturb the guests. I don’t dance though. Most people who come already have dates or they are just looking to party, so no one asks the server in the puffy dress to dance with them. Typically, I just sit on the stairs and watch everyone else. I love seeing other people, especially all dressed up. Daddy’s mansion is in the middle of the forest so aside from the dances, we don’t get visitors.
“I am more comfortable with dresses that touch my knees,” I mumbled.
“And the Master said you’re to wear something with frills. Your other dresses don’t have frills, Abby.”
“I am not wearing that dress! I’m sorry but I am not showing off my new undies to our company!” That was a mistake. Firstly, I shouldn’t yell at Alice. Not only is it rude, but she doesn’t tolerate it. Second, I have never won an argument against her and I don’t think I ever will.
“Sit down.” Her voice was strong, so I listened.
“Arms up.”
“Alice, I can dress myself.”
“If your going to throw little temper tantrums like a child, you’ll be treated as such.”
“I can dress-“
“I said arms up, Abigail!” I obeyed. I don’t like her using my full name. After I put my arms up, my baby blue dress, which I had put on when I woke up about seven hours ago, was pulled off over my head. Unexpectedly, my bra strap was unhooked and in instinctively put my hands over my chest.
“No straps,” Alice explained.
I whined and moved my arms, closing my eyes as she took my bra off and helped me into a new strapless one.
“Now lie down.” I knew where this was going.
“Alice, I’ll wear the dress, okay?”
“Lie down.”
“Alice…”
“You have to be ready in one hour, and unless you want a spanking like a real child, you are going to lie down.” I knew she wasn’t kidding. Alice was the only one given permission from Daddy to spank me when I was in my trainers. I made the mistake of acting like a brat once before during a punishment month, and she didn’t hesitate to flip me over and swat my padded butt. Having to be spanked by my best friend was one of the most humiliating things I had ever endured. I wasn’t about to let history repeat itself, so I scooted backward and lied down on the bed.
“Thank you,” Alice said gratefully, slipping the white tights off my legs that I had put on along with my blue dress this morning. Thankfully, Alice made no comment on my pull-up, and went about dressing me as gently as any mother would. In no time, I was standing in the center of my bedroom in the dress I was so reluctant to put on.
I was wrong. The dress came just above my knees. It was shorter than my typical dresses, but it did cover my pull-up completely. The sleeves were pink and puffy, hung off my shoulders, and lined with white, lace, elastic cuffs that hugged my arms. The same white lace, only more pronounced, was sewn along the top of the fabric. The pale pink dress embraced every curve of my torso until it reached my hips, where the material fell limply to my knees. A circle of white lace wrapped around my hips, and then three other rings of lace had been sewn into the skirt equidistant from each other until the final fourth ring was attached at the hem of the dress. Finally, a thin white ribbon zigzagged five or six times up my torso and was tied into a cute bow at the top. Needless to say, I was adorable. Alice went back into my closet for a minute or so.
“Here it is!” she shouted before coming out holding a white petticoat.
“Alice! No!”
“It isn’t going to lift your dress too high, I promise,” she sighed.
“It’s too high now!”
“Don’t argue. Now step in.” She crouched down at my feet and held the petticoat out with both hands on either side. Mumbling angrily to myself, I stepped in. Quicker than I expected, she stood up, pulling the petticoat up my legs, and lifting my new dress. I blushed furiously as she held my dress up and adjusted the petticoat, getting a full view of my pink training pants.
“All done,” she smiled and dropped my dress. It puffed out now, only going halfway down my thigh. The pull-up still wasn’t visible, but I knew I couldn’t bend over if I wanted to keep it that way.
Alice continued to dress me. Knee high white socks were slipped up my legs and Mary Jane style shoes were buckled to my feet. Most of the remaining time was spent on switching my hair styles to find one that fit the dress perfectly, but the end result was to just curl it a little and let it fall over my shoulders. She pinned a matching pink bow to my head, which must have been the hair accessory she was looking for earlier, and then stood back and looked me over.
“Astonishing,” she concluded.
“You’re absolutely adorable.” Alice took me by hand out of my bedroom and down the hall, then a staircase, and into the kitchen to get some drinks ready. I couldn’t help but waddle slightly in my training pants. The maids did the cooking. I only carried the stuff out there. Maids were not to be seen by guests, even though Alice was always instructed to keep an eye on me from around corners.
When we went into the kitchen, Madeline snickered at me. Lola and Lily avoided their gaze. I appreciated it. I couldn’t understand why Madeline still felt superior. She was covered in flour, her hair a mess, cooking in the kitchen while I was dressed magnificently about to serve our guests. Alice ignored her though.
“Don’t trip. Don’t spill anything. Be courteous.” Alice always gave me the same small set of rules before I went out to serve the guests. I grumbled, hating the situation at hand.
The maids finished preparing the drinks, Alice placed them on a platter, and I was off. Balancing the tray on one hand, I moved around the crowded room of people. Drinks were removed from the tray randomly, and every five or ten minutes I wound up right back in the kitchen to start the process all over again. Thankfully it only lasted an hour, but even with flats, my feet still hurt after eight trips between the kitchen and the dance hall.
“You did well,” Alice complimented as she cleaned the kitchen up.
“It’s just walking.”
“Go watch our guests dance,” she offered. I nodded and took her up on the suggestion.
Walking out of the kitchen for the ninth time, but fortunately without a tray, I did my best to walk instead of waddle toward the staircase. I didn’t do that bad. I took my usual seat on the sixth step and smiled at everyone in their fancy dresses or classy suits.
“You look bored,” a calm, harmonic voice spoke over the noise. I looked down and at the bottom of the steps stood a complete stranger, but if any stranger were to kidnap me and hold me hostage, I’d want it to be this particular stranger. He wore the most astounding tuxedo I’d ever seen. The classic black pants, the sleek black jacket over a lightly patterned checkerboard vest with a white button up shirt beneath. A black bow tie was tied around his neck beneath the shirt collar. Yet, his outfit was the last thing on my mind.
His face was in perfect proportion, symmetrical, dreamy. The soft blue eyes were glued to my face; his lips curled into a sly close-mouthed smile. The only thing out of place was his tussled brown hair, and even that seemed elegant in its own way. His bangs touched his eyelashes, but the rest was kept off his neck and just below the ears.
“Are you going to say something?” he asked softly, maintaining his perfect smile.
That’s when I realized my mouth was open so I closed it instinctively, only to open it again the next moment with a greeting.
“Hi.”
“Hello.” His smile got a little bigger, and I glimpsed the white teeth beneath his lips.
“Are you bored?” I shrugged slightly.
“Watching people is fun.”
“What about dancing? Isn’t that better?” I watched his expression carefully, but his composure never changed. His hands stayed in his jacket pockets. His stance never wavered. His eyes never left mine.
“I suppose dancing does top watching others dance.” I felt my stomach flip. I couldn’t tell why.
“Then would you like to join me?” I couldn’t reply with a real answer, since I couldn’t seem to find my voice, so I nodded and made my way cautiously down the steps. At the bottom, his hand was waiting for mine. I let my hand fall into his and he pulled me gently toward the dance floor. He put his arms at my hips and I rested mine on his shoulders. He was taller than me; probably five eight or five nine. Soon we were rocking slowly back and forth, taking steps this way and that. I tried to focus on my stance so I wouldn’t mess up, but his smile was eye level and it was hard to concentrate. Fortunately, I didn’t make a mistake. My dancing was excellent, considering this was my first real one.
When a second song started, he pulled my hips a little closer and I no longer looked at his face. Instead I had put my cheek down on his shoulder. His hands drifted to my lower back. Then I remembered what I was wearing. I panicked, but kept my dancing smooth and my breathing even. My pull-ups were relatively thick, and if his hand brushed it, the padding would instantly inform him that I wasn’t in any sort of underwear a girl my age should be wearing. Luckily, this boy was a complete gentleman, and never moved his hand any lower.
When the second song ended, so did our time together. He took a step back, keeping his smile, and looked me up and down. I stood there motionlessly as he observed my apparel, my hairstyle, my face. I grew anxious.
“You really are beautiful,” he finally said in a small voice, barely auditable over the crowds.
“And your just as stunning,” I said formally in return, even though stunning must have been understatement.
“I can’t stay longer.” His voice sounded sad but he kept the smile plastered on his face.
“I will come next month, of course. Save me a dance.” I nodded weakly, a dizzy feeling in my head.
“I’m Miles, by the way,” he said as he took another step toward the door.
“I’m Abigail!” I called back as he disappeared into the crowd.
The End of Abby – Chapter Three.
If you want to read more stories about ABDL girls you can find a list here: Diaper Girls – Index
The story originally came from: https://www.dailydiapers.com/content/stories.html