Page 14 of Veronica’s Little Valentine's Day

I spotted a gas station conveniently located only a couple of blocks from the airport, I took the exit.

“What do you mean, exactly? Are you saying you’re into ABDL or wish to experiment with adult diaper play?”

I’d pulled into the station lot and stopped in front of the door labeled “Her,” and turned off the car, turning in my seat to face her.

“No, I don’t think I am into it on that level. I just want to add it to my tried list. And if I like it, maybe do it again, down the road in the right situation. And uh, with the right partner.” She turned to face out the window, no doubt to hide her cheeks, which had just gone bright red.

The idea of her doing anything with a partner that wasn’t me made my hands curl into fists.Cool it, cowboy, she isn’t even yours yet.

My conscience was correct. She wasn’t mine, yet. I wasn’t even sure that she was the one I’d wanted all along, but I had to admit, the more time I spent with her, the more boxes she checked off on my want/need list in a partner.

“What else do you want from a partner, other than role play?” I was genuinely curious to see if we shared similar boxes we wanted checked off.

Her cheeks were flaming hot pink. “I have to pee so bad; can we discuss this after?”

“Yes, now off you go.”

“Uh, could you come with me? Please, Jacob, I don’t want to go in there alone.”

Daddy J to the rescue, I thought, and I liked it. Being Daddy J and rescuing my Little from the big bad roadside toilet.

“Of course I can.” I lifted her out of the cab and held her in my arms. I could have let her jump down on her own, but with her urgent need to pee, she might have had an accident in her panties. I had the evil thought of letting her wet herself just so I could buy the diapers I’d been joking about earlier and make her wear one under her miniskirt, but chivalry won out.

Though she’d left her monkey in the truck, I carried her like she carried Bananas, leaving one hand free to open the door and flip on the light.

“Don’t you dare sit on that toilet seat,” I warned. Grabbing long strips of butt wipe, I lined the seat so her skin wouldn’t touch the porcelain ring when she sat down. I gave my head a shake at the condition of the bathroom, having half a mind to chew out the attendant I’d seen through the window, sitting on his ass and most likely playing on his phone.

“You can sit now.”

Ronnie peered at the seat and then at me. “Are you sure?”

I turned and checked the soap dispenser. Empty. “On second thought, let me hold you over that toilet bowl. This place is worse than a garbage dump.” I straddled the toilet and had her turn facing away from me. “Pull down your panties and hike up your skirt.”

She did as she was told, and I lifted her by her thighs and lowered her until she hovered just above the toilet. “Okay, it’s safe to pee now.” What was happening right now could have been embarrassing if this been any other woman, but not with Veronica. With her, it felt natural.

We’d already breached so many potentially uncomfortable situations together and we hadn’t reached the Ranch yet. Admittedly, it was theuncomfortable situationsthat spoke to me the most.

When she was done, I had her reach for the paper and wipe, then I set her down so she could adjust her clothing.

“Thank you,” she murmured, her face having lost none of the vivid dark pink.

Poor Ronnie was continually getting her buttons pushed on our trip, and I was enjoying every second of it.

“Come on, let’s go find some hand sanitizer and get you some snacks.”

“Yay!” she clapped her hands in excitement.

We entered the store, and I quickly pumped some sanitizer into her hands and then mine. “Go find some snacks, babygirl.” She scuttled off to the chocolate aisle while I stared down at the pimple-faced kid behind the counter.

Long seconds passed before he gazed up from his screen. “Can I help you?”

“Yeah, you can help. I’d like to see your cleaning schedule for the restrooms.”

“Huh?” He looked confused by my request.

“You see that clipboard on the wall behind your head? Grab that and bring it here.”

The kid grabbed the clipboard, the schedule confirming what I’d already known that it hadn’t been checked off in days. I wanted to grab him by the scruff of the neck and shove his face into the grease-smeared paper.

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