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I didn't get another chance to play with Dalia for a few days. Gwen was around, and I couldn't exactly offer to stop playing with Daryl to bathe his three-year-old sister while her paid caretaker was around. In fact, my next chance required a bit of engineering on my part.

We were sitting around the living room watching Saturday morning cartoons, Daryl lying down on the couch after several hours running after the tackleball. Dalia was grunting and wagging her tail as she chewed on a baby toy from back when she was still teething. She didn't understand the bright colors or pictures on the Star Wargs cartoon, but the flashes kept her attention anyway. Gwen was reading a book, not paying attention.

All eyes were on the television except mine - I kept watching that Great Dane tail wagging back and forth, diaper crinkling with each stroke. She had her rump full in the air and if I wanted I could just reach out and touch her. Glancing back and forth, I grabbed my orange soda, eyes trained on the cartoon until it finally happened - a big explosion.

I faked a spit take and dropped my can of sticky, brightly colored drink all over Dalia's diaper, some soaking into her fur in orange splotches that almost mimicked my Dalmatian spots, but I also made sure to get plenty into the pristine, white carpet. "Oh shit!" I said, then clapped a hand to my muzzle for swearing.

Gwen's eyes widened, the college-aged Poodle jumping to her feet. "Jared!"

"S-sorry!" I gulped, though it had all gone to plan.

Dalia looked back at her soiled rump and simply laughed. "Spi-wed!" She jumped around, sending orange liquid spraying around the room. Some hit Daryl and the Great Dane growled.

Gwen said, "Stop moving and get to the bathroom, Dalia. You're getting it everywhere!" But her eyes were on the stained carpet.

I offered helpfully, "I'll give her a bath so you can...concentrate on that. Again - sorry!"

But I was grinning as I walked Dalia down to the bathroom, followed her inside, and locked the door. My heart was racing. I couldn't believe how well that had worked!

"Ja-wed!" she announced loudly. "You spi-wed."

"Yeah, Dalia. Sorry. But look at the bright side! I get to give you a bath." I turned on the water.

Spinning excitedly in a circle on four enormous paws, the big girl barked and said, "Wed Wocket!" She meant the bath toy that I'd given her. I think. Either way, I had to bite my lip to hear her say that, even as she presented me her dripping rump. Kneeling behind the Great Dane, I held my breath, undoing the straps to her diaper and sliding it down her lanky hind legs.

There I was, inches away from her full, adult spade - because although she was mentally just a three-year-old, Dalia had almost fully grown into her adult body, an eighty-pound bitch ready to grow out into a 130 pound beauty. Such a large breed she was, she looked more mature than some of the feral girls in my 6th grade class. But while none of them would lift their tail for me, Dalia eagerly wagged just above my forehead, too busy watching the water fill the tub to care what I was doing back there.

Her soft, lightly furred pink vulva stuck out half-an-inch from the rest of her rump, tapering to a glistening point. So close, I couldn't help but inhale a whiff of her pleasant scent, a warm, clean scent. She still hadn't had her first heat, and I could only imagine what her two-inch-wide spade would look like when it was all puffed up. I inched closer, eyes focusing on the way her folds clung tightly together - too tight? Just tight enough? And what did she taste like...?

"Baf time!" Dalia announced, jumping into the tub, which had water up to her ankles.

I cleared my head, quickly tossing my clothes aside, stepping naked into the bathtub with the innocent, big little girl. I opened the toy bucket, and tossed a few toys into the water, but there was only one she cared about right now - the red space shuttle, reminiscent of early science fiction, the kind with three fins that held the rocket upright on three pin points.

She nosed the toy toward me and said, "Thanks!"

"You're very welcome," I said, preparing a bowl with shampoo to get the sticky soda out of her fur.

"Ja-wed."

I lathered the shampoo up with my hands, capping the bottle.

"Ja-wed!"

I looked back. "What, Dalia?"

"Play! Wif wed wocket!"

Giving the Great Dane a big smile, I put the bowl away for now. Reaching down, I grabbed the new toy, flying it through the air. I told a story about the captain and the first mate, and they almost got sucked into a black hole. Dalia watched with rapt attention, until the other toys started chasing the spaceship. That's when she splashed, stood, and barked, "Hide the wocket!"

In order to help Captain Zack Parrot and First Mate Jessie McBeal, Dalia opened her mouth wide. I gulped, unable to forget when I'd hidden my own red rocket in that big, Dane muzzle. I watched closely now as I docked the ship into her mouth. "No teeth," I cautioned.

She extended her tongue and I slipped the evocative-looking red toy into her mouth, holding my breath as she started gently suckling the toy, just like she had for my dick. Even as the toy rocket ship disappeared into her muzzle, my own was emerging. "Safe for now!" I announced, not explaining why exactly I was pulling and pushing it back and forth in her mouth. But she obediently stuck to it, sucking like a champ. It's amazing that I didn't lose it right there.

Panting softly, I said, "The aliens can't sense the ship anymore. It's covered in some sort of space goo! But they're going to fire their lasers anyway and hope to hit the ship. They've gotta find another place to hide, fast."

No way. She remembered this game way too well, pulling the saliva-soaked toy out of her mouth. "I know!" Spinning around, feet splashing warm water everywhere, she pushed her large hindquarters in my face and held her tail out of the way, looking over her shoulder at the toy ship.