tagBDSMA Perfect Fit Pt. 10

A Perfect Fit Pt. 10


Notes: All characters are over the age of 18.

There is no sex in this chapter (sorry.) I hope you'll enjoy it for what it is. Rest assured, Mark and Jenni haven't cooled off!

This is written with a dark humor, but I do love these characters, so it's not my intention to mock them or any real person with mental challenges in any way.

As always, thanks for reading.


It's the last Saturday in January and Mark has a special day planned for his girl. It's to be filled with some important errands she will find boring as well as some treats he hopes will delight her. He lives for those moments as much as the intense carnal pleasures they share each night. "Daytime Jenni" is proving to be more complex than he first thought, but he treasures every minute of being with her.

Jenni's 'little space' has taken on a new form that sometimes appears. It doesn't seem voluntary and Mark was disconcerted the first time he looked into her eyes and the woman wasn't home in there. This Jenni he can only treat as a child to be babysat, nothing more. She was a joy to be around, sunny and eager to please, and she adored her Daddy. This was not a side of her for the website. It was like a real regression. By evening she was either a mix of little and primary Jenni, or just his wanton sub slut who also loves Daddy just as much.

Mark knows he needs to talk to Dr. Zavodny about this, but he's afraid, perhaps irrationally, she'll be somehow taken from him. He doesn't want to hear their relationship is making her sick, that he's not taking care of her right. Mark doesn't even discuss the littlest Jenni with his lover. There'd been moments to suggest she doesn't know her or remember everything that happens to her. Mark has great affection for her when she appears, but is grateful to realize she's left. He doesn't know if this is how she really was at one time in her development or if it's a creation of her mind now that she feels safe and loved. Mark's fear is that love broke her brain in some way.

Right now, she's demanding another plate of faux bacon for breakfast.

"No, sweetie, you'll get a tummy ache. Wait a little while and if you're still hungry, you can have more, okay?"

She glares at him.

"Don't give me that look, girl. We have a nice day ahead of us, so just think about that."

"Okay, Daddy."

"Go pick out your clothes. Want me to help you?"

"I can do it," she huffs and pads off to her dresser. She returns a few minutes later in jeans and her favorite T-shirt: Einstein with his tongue out. Mark doubts this Jenni knows who the funny man is. She's got her zip-up boots on, so Mark doesn't need to help her tie her shoes today. They should probably just stay home; he's never taken her out before when she's this extreme. The imbalanced part of him thinks it might be fun. Also, she could come out of it at any time and whisper provocatively into his ear.

He bundles her up in her warm coat and scarf and they leave the loft.

"Where are we going, Daddy?" she asks, taking his hand.

"Well, do you remember I told ya you have money now?"

"I don't have money!" She laughs and laughs. Bizarre as it is, Mark can't help but smile.

"Well, ya do. So we have to go to the bank to get ya a savings account. Can you act like my big girl when we talk to the bank people?"

"Okay. Do we have to stay there a long time?"

'I fuckin' hope not,' Mark thinks to himself.

They arrive at the nearby bank branch and Mark looks at her one more time. "Let me do the talking and if they ask ya questions, just do your best, okay?"

Jenni's clearly distracted by a dog she wants to pet, but agrees and composes herself to look reasonably normal. Mark takes her small wallet from his pocket and hands it to her. "Hang on to this. Your ID is in there." They go in.

The Saturday lines at the tellers are long, but Mark spots a bored and likely hungover young clerk at one of the new accounts desks. That could work. "This way, sweetheart."

"Can I help you?"

"She'd like to open a savings account."

"Okay, sure." So far he doesn't seem surprised she requires a chaperone to do this. "Take a seat."

He types into his computer. "Just a basic account?"

"Yes, Sir," Mark answers.

"Your name, Miss?"


"Let him look at your ID card, honey."

Jenni produces it with a flourish like she's proud to be able to do so. The clerk looks at Mark, catching on something's weird. Hopefully, he won't think Mark's a criminal trying to take advantage of a simpleton. Mark blinks slowly with a meaningful nod as if to acknowledge, 'Yes, I'm helping because she's special.'

"And your social security number?"

"That's the blue card," Mark whispers. "Okay!" she whispers loudly and hands that over, too.

"And are you her... guardian?" the clerk asks.

Mark is starting to wonder why he didn't just wait until she was normal to attempt this. This guy is going to call the cops. Dr. Zavodny will be called. Mark will have to explain what the hell he's doing. He realizes it's a test to see how real this is for her; if things start to go south and she still doesn't snap out of it, he'll know she's really got another personality.

"No, she's her own guardian. She just needs a little help with certain things."

The man looks incredulous, but also doesn't seem competent enough to take steps another responsible adult might. He continues the process.

"And how much does she want to deposit?"

"Can I transfer money from my account?"

"You can." Mark gives him his ATM card. "Can we make it one thousand?"

"One thousand!" Jenni exclaims in her loud inside whisper.

"Yes, honey. That's your money."

"You made a rhyme! What do we do with all my dollars?!" She bounces a little.

"Ya save 'em. That's why it's called a savings account. You'll still get your pocket money, don't worry."

Jenni's grin is contagious enough to bring a smile to the clerk's puffy face.

"All right. I just need her signature." This would be interesting. Jenni grips the pen in her fist and carefully forms the letters of her first name to fill the whole line. The man looks ready to object, but illiterate signatures do count.

"Good job, sweetheart."

"You're all set, Jenni," the clerk says as if he's talking to a child. "This is for you." He hands her a folder with the account information and then, as an afterthought, a page of stickers they must keep for well-behaved kids. She immediately peels one off to place on the folder.

"And what do we say?"

"Thank you!"

"Good girl. Thanks for your help."

"Have a nice weekend."

"A thousand dollars," Jenni sing-songs as they leave the bank. Mark's heart is racing.

"What are we doing now, Daddy?"

"Now, we go to the hair salon and get your hair cut, sweetheart."

"Aw! More boring stuff!"

"You said you were planning to do it yesterday." ('When you were a different person,' he thinks.) "It's startin' to look all crazy. People will think I don't look after ya. You don't want that, right?"


"I'll let ya get a color streak, how 'bout that?"

Jenni brightens up at that. "Yay!"

This was another test. If his girl asks him tonight what happened to her hair, they'll be forced to have this conversation. If she doesn't say anything and seems fine, it will mean she does recall their day. And if she sees herself and looks distressed that she's losing her mind, Mark will be able to tell and he'll explain it to her.

They go to a trendy place that's not too pricey and that will understand Jenni's style. Once more unto the breach...

The girl behind the desk lights up to see Mark, a sexy man with great hair in need of cutting. "Hello! What can we do for you?"

"She needs a trim. She wants some color, too." Jenni nods enthusiastically, but her smile is shy and she clings to her Daddy's coat. He puts his arm around her and reassures her, "She's friendly. Ya wanna tell her what you want?"

"I'm s'posed to have a haircut."

The receptionist picks up right away she's not quite right. She smiles benevolently at Mark. "I'll go see if Caitlyn's available." By her tone, Mark surmises Caitlyn is their go-to stylist for special needs customers.

"Thank you, Ma'am."

Punky Caitlyn appears with the expression of the fun babysitter who puts the kids at ease. Mark feels it work on his girl, who relaxes her grip on him. "Hi, there! I hear you want some color today! What colors do you like?"

"Bright colors!"

The women smile; this Jenni really is a charmer. Mark's just waiting for her to call him Daddy in front of them and totally freak them out. She doesn't, however, and follows Caitlin trustingly to the back of the salon.

He sits down in the waiting area and puts his elbows on his knees, rubs his eyes. The receptionist approaches with a cup of coffee. "Thought you could use this."

"Oh, thank you. That's kind."

The woman tilts her head, sussing things out. "So she's your... daughter? Not that you look old enough!"

"Nah, we're... together. She ain't always like this. It's not an act, though. Sometimes she turns real little. So I'm 'Daddy' today. Tonight she'll be my partner again, when she's got her big personality back. Shit, I'm sorry! I don't know why I told you all that. TMI, once again..."

"Probably because I'm a psychology student, at night. People just tell me things, always have. So she really has multiple personalities?"

"Just this one. And the main one, of course."

"Must be hard for you."

"Nah, not really. Well, you're not way off; today's the first day I've taken her out when she's like this. I guess I am a little frazzled."

"Oh, wow. How long have you been together? Sorry, am I prying too much? It's just interesting to me."

"I imagine it would be. I mean, because you're a student an' all. It's been just over a month. That must sound crazy. We're devoted to each other, though."

"I think it's romantic. Crazy is usually part of that deal."

She leaves Mark to consider that while she attends to some customers. He smiles to himself: Crazy was definitely part of his and Jenni's deal, considering. The realization is settling in that he helped create this new, littler Jenni without meaning to and, even as he feels guilty, he's also excited at the extent of his power over her. It was beyond owning a sub to change them so drastically and he doesn't mind the responsibiltiy at all.

Jenni finally emerges. She's all smiles, thank god, and eager for her Daddy's approval. Her gamine cut has been cleaned up and made sleek with some product. Her bangs are a nice shade of pink that looks good against her natural sable color.

"Look how pretty my hair is!"

"It's very pretty, baby. Here. This is Caitlyn's tip. Can you go give it to her nicely and tell her thank you?"

Jenni races away yelling, "Caitlyn!"

"She's made a friend," Mark says as he pays for the cut and color. "We appreciate your understanding. Her hair does look great, so Jenni's other self will probably be back next time. I'm Mark, by the way."

The receptionist's face turns bright red. Mark's not sure what he said, then realizes: She recognizes them. The "Mark and Jenni" site was just listed in a "Best New Porn You've Never Heard Of" click-bait article, thanks to a tip-off from Savina to a writer friend. Maybe she's seen quite a lot of them already.

"Daddy, I gave it to her and she was happy," Jenni reports.

"That's my good girl," Mark says with a wink to the poor woman who looks embarrassed to death. "It was nice talkin' to ya," he says kindly and then walks out with his arm around his little girl.

"See? I can tell you like your hair. Isn't it better when you listen to me?"

"Yes, Daddy."

"I bet you're hungry by now. Do you want to go home for lunch or go to Danny's?"

"Who's Danny?"

Oh, boy. Danny's is a diner Jenni enjoys. Mark's been there with her several times.

"You know, they have the plastic blue booths with glitter. You like to look out at the view of the river. You always get a grilled cheese..."

She looks up at him blankly, then with the look of a toddler in the moment after she's fallen down and is deciding whether or not to start bawling.

"Hey, hey... don't worry. I bet you just don't remember because ya were little. That's okay." It's not exactly a lie, just the opposite of the truth. He can't very well say, 'You don't remember because you were big.'

"Do you want to go see if you still like it there?"

"I want people to see my pink hair."

"All right pretty, we'll go eat, then we'll go home and have quiet time." Quiet time? Mark's beginning to feel worn out by his charge. It's not that she's been bad at all, just that her unpredictability keeps him on high alert. Not knowing how she might react, if a meltdown is imminent, has his stomach acting up, too.

She puts her hand in his and they walk several blocks to Danny's. There are closer options, but Jenni has a fondness for it and he also hopes the exercise will help tire her out. Mark chooses a booth where they've sat before in the hope that the view will jog her memory. "Wow! We're high up!" Apparently not. Mark orders her usual and dry toast for himself. Big Jenni would notice he's got a stomach ache and show concern. Little Jenni doesn't notice at all.

Mark has a gift for her that's burning a hole in his pocket. He'd planned to make a romantic gesture today, but it will have to wait. It involves some questions this Jenni won't understand and he doesn't want to distress her. Mark suspects that this Jenni's world revolves entirely around Daddy and she doesn't know anything only her primary self knows. That was fine with him: Big Jenni knows what he feels like inside her. He looks at her happy, open little face and decides she's never been abused in her life, so doesn't have memories of their sexual relationship. He hopes that's the case; the thought makes his stomach churn with acid.

When her grilled cheese and fries arrive, Mark passes her the ketchup bottle out of habit.

"Daddy!" she says in her exasperated tone. "You know I hate red food."

"Guess I forgot. No red food."

Mark gazes out the window as his girl munches contentedly. He watches the chunks of ice race along in the river's swift current and plans the conversation with Dr. Zavodny about how Jenni completely dissociates... that it's happened three or four times now and he failed to mention it.

Jenni blows bubbles with her straw to get his attention. He smiles wearily. "Uh-uh. Don't do that," he chides. She gives him mischievous eyes from under her stylishly uneven pink bangs.

"Daddy... when's my birthday?"

"That's a good question. Let's see." He refers to her ID he's carrying. "Well, look at that. Your birthday is Valentine's Day. Isn't that lucky?"

His little girl claps her greasy hands. "Lucky me!"

"Yes, baby."

Valentine's had never been more to him than an annual, tacky explosion in CVS. It had already been on his mind this year for obvious reasons. He'd been thinking maybe a collar for his sub now that he could afford an everyday one of good quality. He looks at the girl sitting across from him. The only collar she should have is one with his phone number on it in case she gets lost.

"I have to go pee."

"Oh. Okay, the ladies' room is back there. You okay on your own?"

She looks at him like he's daft. "I'm not a baby!"

"Of course not. I'll go pay the bill and wait for you by the front door. Got it?"


"And don't talk to strangers!" he adds as she's walking away. Mark hopes to Christ she doesn't come out of this in a strange public restroom with no idea how she got there or where he is. If she's ever lost track of time like that before, she's never mentioned it. He imagines it must be a terrifying experience.

Jenni returns after the normal amount of time wiping her wet hands on her jeans. "I washed my hands," she whispers.

"Good job, baby."

On the walk home, Mark perceives something else that this little Jenni has that she normally doesn't, even in 'little space': A speech impediment. As her walk becomes more of a shuffle, the Rs drop out of her words. They don't become a complete W sound, but she struggles with the consonant. Back at the loft, Mark announces it's naptime. He can't stay conscious anymore. She's over-tired, too, and protests this, as he had a feeling she might.

"I bet SparkleCorn wants a cuddle. Why don't you just lay down with her for a little bit?"

"SparkleCorn is a he, Daddy," she replies. "You keep forgetting everything today!"

"I'm just tired. If you take your nap, I'll let you stay up late tonight."

"Really late?"

"Uh-huh." It's easy to make promises to someone who will probably be gone by then.

They go to bed. Little Jenni clutches her stuffed toy, not him. Mark misses his lover badly.

When he wakes up in the dark, Jenni's not by his side. He panics. She shouldn't be unsupervised. Mark finds her painting by one dim lamp in the work space... on his painting. He stops in his tracks and slowly counts.

"Uh, Jenni? What are you doing to my painting?"

"Making it good, Daddy."

Getting mad would be completely pointless. This Jenni's world was obviously the safest of all possible safe places, and to yell at her would be horrible. And 'discipline' was for BDSM play, not to correct someone who was never going to grow older, anyway. Mark turns away and goes back to bed. He pulls the covers over his head and screams into his pillow.

When he finally emerges to face his destroyed work, he can feel the comforting presence of "big Jenni," as he now thinks of his original baby girl, even before he sees her. She's curled in the easy chair, pale as when she first blew into his life from the cold.

"Mark," she calls to him in a thin voice. It's not a young voice, just a frightened one. "What happened to your painting? And what happened to my hair?"

"Everything's gonna be all right, baby. I'll tell you all about it..."

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by Anonymous

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by umami12/15/18


That sounds very challenging! I'm glad to read that you find my portrayal of this subject to be okay. Thanks for your comment.

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by Lamentation12/15/18

So good.


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