ABDL Daddy

“And how exactly did this happen to her?” Casey asked, trying her best to focus on the man in the chair across from her, and not the prattling baby-woman sitting at his feet. “Her records indicate there was no physical injury.”

“It just seems like the stress of work just got too much for her,” Mr Graham said, a little sadly. “I came home one day and found her sucking her thumb and crying her little eyes out because she’d done a wee-wee in her pants.” He reached down and stroked his former fiancée’s hair, running his fingers through one of her pigtails. “I’d tried to warn her that she was going to burn herself out, that she was taking on too many projects, but she didn’t listen. I took her to the hospital of course, and had her examined by all kinds of people, but none of them could find anything physically wrong with her. She just had a mental breakdown that sent her mind right back to babyhood.”

Ella leant her head back and gazed up adoringly at her fiancée-turned-caregiver. He grinned down at her, then reached down to tickle her tummy, making her squeal with delighted laughter and squirm on the floor. Her nappy crinkled noisily, and Casey couldn’t help but stare at it with distaste. Ella was only a year or two older than she was, and it was impossible to look at the gurgling baby-woman without imagining herself in her place. Losing all her dignity and control, to the point where she couldn’t even use a toilet, becoming totally dependent on someone else, being dressed up like an oversized toddler in front of all her friends and family. The thought of ending up like that sent a shiver down Casey’s spine.

But that was all the more reason to investigate. Sure, pretending to work for social services might violate certain standards of ethical journalism, but Casey was certain there was something more to these incidents than mere ‘mental breakdowns’. Confident, independent women, women like her, didn’t suddenly start sucking their thumbs and wetting their pants just because work got a bit tough sometimes. Something else was going on here, she was sure of it.

She opened her mouth to ask Mr Graham another question when Ella suddenly grabbed the hem of her shirt and yanked it up, exposing her large bare breasts. “Boobieth!” she giggled. “I gots boobieth!” Then she started bouncing up and down on her bottom, making her breasts jiggle about madly on her chest.

Casey stared at her in shock. She expected her fiancé to step in and tell the girl to cover herself, but instead he just chuckled. “Yes you do, princess,” he cooed. “What a big girl!”

“Big giwl, Dada!” Ella screeched, as if she had absolutely no concept of an indoor voice.

“Don’t you…” Casey began, tearing her eyes away from the bouncing baby-woman. She cleared her throat. “Don’t you encourage her to… to stay modest?”

Mr Graham laughed. “Oh no, there’s no point in that. Ella hasn’t got any modesty. Not anymore. She used to be so concerned with what people thought of her, but that’s over now.” He turned to his mentally reduced ex-fiancée and smiled. “Isn’t it, darling?”

Ella just giggled happily. It was clear she hadn’t been following their conversation at all.

Mr Graham turned back to her. “Honestly, it’s hard enough getting her to keep her nappy on. Her old business partners came round to visit her the other day, and she pulled off her Pampers and started running around bare-bottomed!”

Casey forced herself to laugh along with him, but in reality the thought was enough to turn her stomach. Not long ago, this woman had been on the cusp of a great career, a role model for girls everywhere. Now she was just a joke.

At that moment, Ella let out a loud grunt. She was sitting up on her knees, her face scrunched up as if in concentration. For a moment, Casey didn’t understand what was going on, but then the front of Ella’s nappy started to darken, and the back began to sag, and she realised that the former businesswoman was filling her diaper right in front of them.

Mr Graham laughed again. “Are you working on your latest project, princess?” he teased, patting the expanding seat of Ella’s Pampers.

Ella grunted again, straining as hard as she could to poop her pants, her face flushed with exertion.

Casey felt her own face turn crimson as well, only in her case from the second-hand embarrassment of watching a grown woman wet and mess herself like a helpless two-year-old. But she found that she couldn’t look away.

At last, Ella’s face slackened, and she looked up at them with a vacant smile. “Uh-oh!” she chirped. “Done uh-oh!” Her nappy was weighed down by pee, and by the heavy load in the back, so that it sagged halfway down to her knees, but she didn’t seem to mind.

“You certainly did, baby!” Mr Graham cooed. “Did you make a big poo-poo in your pants for Daddy?”

Ella giggled and nodded, then held out her arms for a cuddle.

Her ex-fiancé chuckled and knelt down to pull her into a big hug. He peaked over her shoulder and reached around her back, slipping a finger into the waistband of her nappy and pulling it out. “You really filled these up, sweetheart! I think someone needs a change!”

He looked up at Casey, who was doing her best to make it seem like she wasn’t equal parts disgusted and horrified by what had just happened. “You don’t mind if I change her now, do you?” he asked politely. “I don’t want her getting a rash.”

“Oh no, of course not!” Casey said, managing to keep her voice steady. “I don’t really need to ask you any more questions anyway.” She forced a smile she wasn’t sure was even half convincing. “It’s clear she’s in good hands. I’ll get going and leave you to take care of her.”

Mr Graham smiled, and Casey thought there was something unnerving about the way he was looking at her. “Thank you for all the work you do,” he said. “It’s important that girls like Ella have people looking out for them.” His eyes sparkled. “But don’t work too hard,” he grinned, “or you might just end up on the changing mat next to her!”

Casey forced another laugh, a laugh that sounded unnaturally high-pitched, and hurriedly left the living room. She glanced nervously behind her as she walked up to the small table that stood in the hallway, where the landline sat, and picked up the address book beside it. She flipped through the pages as fast she could, praying that Mr Graham was too busy wiping his former fiancée’s ass to investigate why she was taking so long to leave.

A few seconds later, and the man appeared behind the glass front doors to the daycare. He smiled at her and pressed a button on the inside. The doors opened.

“Thank you,” said Casey. She held out her ID and said, “Do you think we could go to your office? I’d like to start by asking a couple of questions if that’s okay.”

“Certainly!” said the man brightly, barely glancing at her ID before ushering her inside. He was perhaps in his mid-thirties, Casey noticed, and quite handsome. “If you’d just like to follow me.”

He led her over to a side door and through into an office room. His desk stood in the middle, covered in papers, and behind it several cabinets lined the walls. Casey’s eyes travelled over the documents on the desk, scanning for anything unusual.

“Please, take a seat,” said the man, pulling up a chair in front of his desk and circling around to sit down himself. “I’ll be happy to answer any questions you might have.”

“That would be lovely,” said Casey, then she adopted an apologetic tone and said, “but before we get started, would it be an awful imposition if I asked for some coffee? I had to skip my usual cup this morning and I’m not the same without it.”

“Of course!” the man said, jumping back up from his seat. “I’ll just go and get you one.” He left the room, and at once Casey got to her feet and started sifting through the papers on the desk. She barely noticed the soft nursery music that began to play.

Casey looked through forms and spreadsheets, a frown growing on her face. There was nothing suspicious at all! Her bottom lip stuck out in a pout, and she turned and opened the draw to one of the filing cabinets. Maybe there’d be something in there. But after a minute or so of frantic searching, Casey huffed and stomped her foot in frustration. Nothing but stupid forms! The nursery music tinkled in her ears, louder now, and she scrunched up her face. Why were they playing stupid baby songs in the office? That was dumb. That was silly. Casey shook her head from side to side, like a cow trying to shake off flies. The music was ringing inside her head. What was she doing here again?

The door to the office opened, and the man stepped inside. At once, the music shut off and Casey looked up at him blankly. “Hi, sweetie,” he said pleasantly. “I’m afraid there’s no coffee for you, but I’ve got something I think you’ll like just as much.” He held up a large baby bottle.

Casey stared at the full bottle with her mouth slightly open. Was that right? Was that okay? Even though the music had stopped, for some reason she imagined that she could still hear it going on in her head. Her stomach rumbled a little as she looked at the bottle, and she realised she was hungry. She hadn’t had lunch that day because she’d been in such a hurry. Why had she been in a hurry again? She’d come here from somewhere, hadn’t she? Come to do something important.

“Ready for num-nums?” the man asked, tilting his head.

Casey blinked and nodded. The man beckoned her over, and Casey found herself being pulled into his lap. There was another moment of concern, when she settled her bottom on his thighs, that something she was doing wasn’t right, but the feeling quickly vanished once the nipple of the bottle was pressed between her lips. Casey began to suck.

“That’s a good girl,” the man cooed, as warm baby formula flowed down Casey’s throat and into her tummy. “That’s a good baby. Drink your baba.”

Casey pulled her mouth off the bottle. “Nodda baby,” she said, scowling.

“Shhh!” the man said, looking around the empty room conspiratorially. “You don’t want to blow your cover, do you? Remember you’re here to investigate.”

Casey nodded slowly. That was right. She was here to investigate. She had to stay undercover. The man slid the bottle back between her lips, and she started drinking again. All thoughts drifted out of her mind, everything except how yummy her milkies were, and how comfy she was in the man’s lap.

“Finish your baba, sweetie,” he said a few minutes later, “then we’ll get you into some more appropriate clothes, okay? We don't want anyone in the nursery room to suspect, do we?”

Casey shook her head, still suckling rhythmically on the baby bottle.

“Good girl. Remember, you’re not Casey the journalist right now. You’re Casey the big baby.”

There was a hiss of air as Casey finished the last of the formula, and the lovely man helped her off his lap. Her tummy felt very full, and her head was even foggier. But she knew he was right. She was trying to infiltrate a daycare, so of course she had to pretend to be a baby. That made sense. She stood still patiently while the man opened up one of the cabinets and took out a t-shirt and a white square of plastic. But when he unfolded it, Casey felt a chill run down her spine.

“Don’t wanna wear dat,” she whined, staring at the enormous disposable nappy. An image flashed in her mind of a grown woman wearing a diaper just like it, screwing up her face and messing herself without any shame at all. “Not… I’m not wike her. I’m a adult.”

“Of course you are, sweetie,” the man said soothingly, placing the nappy and shirt down on his desk and getting to work stripping off Casey’s clothes. “But you don’t want the daycare workers to know that, do you? Have you forgotten you’re undercover? Hmm… Maybe you’re too silly to be a journalist. Maybe you ought to just be a baby instead.”

Casey shook her head violently as the man slipped her button-up shirt off her shoulders and let it fall to the floor. “I’m a jouwnalist!” she pouted, stomping her foot. “I undercover!”

“That’s right,” the man cooed. “Clever girl!”

Casey grinned. Her bra went next, falling to the floor to join her shirt. She looked down at her bare chest with a frown. Her boobies were out. Was that okay? Another image flashed in her mind, of a woman bouncing up and down on her bottom with her large breasts jiggling madly. Casey hopped a little on the spot, and her own boobies wobbled about. She giggled.

“Hold still a moment, honey,” said the man gently. He was sliding her trousers down her legs. Her underwear quickly followed them, so that Casey was left standing naked in front of him. “There we go. Now it’s time to get your nappy on! Legs apart, baby.”

Casey spread her legs obediently, and the man positioned the huge diaper between her thighs, holding it in place with one hand while he did up the tapes expertly with the other. “All done!” he said happily, reaching around to pat her padded bottom. “Isn’t that better? No more toilets for you, sweetie!”

Casey frowned at that. No more toilets? That didn’t sound right. That didn’t sound right at all. She shook her head slowly, trying to shake out the silly, tinkling music that was still playing distantly inside her head. She took a step backwards, and her nappy crinkled loudly. She could feel the bulky padding pushing her thighs apart, forcing her to stand bow-legged. This definitely wasn’t right. She looked down at the puffy diaper between her legs, and something clicked into place in her mind.

Oh God, she thought. Oh God, oh God, oh God. She looked up at the man with terror in her eyes.

He smiled pleasantly at her. “Is big girl Casey having a little wakey-wakey?” he asked in mocking baby-talk.

“You… you dwugged… drugged me,” Casey said in a hushed tone, glancing at the empty bottle standing on the desk.

“No sweetie, there was nothing in your baba but lovely warm formula.” The man tapped her on the forehead. “But there is some special music in your head.” He chuckled at the look of horror on her face. “It doesn’t take much,” he explained. “Just some sweet, lovely songs, and you silly girls are happy to strip off your suits and put your Pampers on.”

Casey was breathing fast, and her eyes darted towards the door.

“There’s no point trying to toddle away, silly girl,” said the man. He grinned. “I’ll catch you. We can’t have you running off, can we? You need to learn your place, sweetie. You need to learn that women are just babies.”

Casey looked at him in a rage, but he’d already taken a smartphone out of his pocket and held the screen up to her face. At once, she was bombarded by bright, swirling colours, a beautiful lightshow that pulsed and shone in time to the sweet, silly music in her head, the music that had risen up from the back of her mind to fill her every thought.

She felt her bladder let go, and a wonderful warmth spread across her crotch as she drenched her diaper with pee-pee. No more toilets, she thought, and she giggled. No more toilets for her.

A sweet, tinkling gong sounded over the speakers that otherwise played an endless stream of lilting baby songs, announcing the end of the day, and caregivers began entering the nursery to pick up their precious charges.

With all her concentration bent on her baby blocks, Ella didn’t notice her Daddy until he was standing right above her. She looked up suddenly as his shadow appeared over her, and a broad, dim-witted grin spread across her face.

“Hi sweet girl!” Daddy cooed, and Ella’s tummy fluttered.

“Dada!” she squealed happily, getting awkwardly to her feet and toddling into his arms. Her sopping wet nappy drooped heavily between her legs. “Dada! Dada!”

“Did you have a good time at daycare, little one?” he asked, reaching round to pat her Pampered bottom. “I’m sorry Daddy had to go to work today, but it looks like you had fun.” His eyes passed over the sum she’d written in baby blocks and he smirked. “What a clever girl you’ve been, Ella! You always were such a little smartie-pants, weren’t you?”

Ella giggled and nodded, nuzzling her face into her Daddy’s chest.

“Where’s your little sister, sweetie?” Daddy asked. “Have you seen her?”

Ella pulled out of the cuddle and nodded eagerly, always delighted to be Daddy’s little helper. She pointed across the room.

Mr Graham grinned at the sight of his second, newest baby girl. He took Ella by the hand and led her over, stomping awkwardly, to where the former journalist was crawling along the floor in nothing but a clearly loaded diaper, her bare breasts wobbling about beneath her.

“Hi Casey,” he cooed, but neither of the girls could pick up on his faintly mocking tone.

Casey looked up, and smiled happily, her chin slick with drool. “Gagaga!” she babbled. “Buhbuh! Pffff!”

“That’s my littlest baby!” Daddy laughed, scooping the ex-reporter up and planting a kiss on her drooly mouth. “There’s big baby Casey! Far too little for talkies, aren’t you honey? Let alone writing naughty articles.” He bounced her in his arms, and she gurgled delightedly, indifferent to the messy nappy squishing against her bottom.

“She’th jutht a baby,” said Ella, somehow managing to sound superior even with her absurd lisp.

“That’s right,” Daddy nodded. “Not like you, Ella. You’re my big girl, aren’t you? You can tell Daddy when you’ve done a poo!”

Ella giggled at the praise and hopped happily on the spot. Daddy was right. She wasn’t a dumb baby like Casey. When she pooped her pants, she knew how to waddle up to Daddy to tell him what she’d done. She loved doing it when there were other people around, so they could all see just how clever she was.

“Would you like to use the changing tables here before you go?” one of the daycare staff asked.

“Oh no, thank you,” Mr Graham laughed. “I’m used to it by now, and I’m sure little miss potty pants here won’t mind squishing about in a dirty diaper until bedtime. Will you, gorgeous?”

“Googoogoo!”

“I didn’t think so,” he chuckled. He looked into the eyes of the once-bright, intelligent young woman, searching for any remnant of the old Casey, but if any part of her adult mind was left, it was locked away deep inside, leaving only a sweet baby girl who loved her Daddy.

“Come on, little girls,” he said, smiling contentedly, settling Casey on his knee and taking Ella’s hand again. “Time to go home.”

Violet smiled. She was glad to hear that she was a smart girl, because she’d felt like a total dumb-dumb while she was trying to do the written exam. She hoped it had gone okay.

“I’m Robert,” said the invigilator, “and I’m going to be in charge of you during the practical exam, okay Violet? Because women need men to be in charge of them.”

Violet nodded, feeling a warm contentment spreading throughout her body. The silly tune tinkled in her ears. She needed a man. That felt good. That felt right.

“Now then, the first thing you’re being tested on for the practical is your Looking Pretty module,” said Robert, reaching out to tickle her briefly under the chin. “And you’re so pretty already that I can tell you’re going to do great!”

Violet giggled happily and squirmed on the spot, blushing. Now that she looked at him more closely, Robert was very handsome. Her thumb drifted up to her mouth, and she gave it a long, slow suck.

“We’re going to get you dressed in some more suitable clothes,” Robert continued, “then we’ll see how pretty you can be, okay sweetie? Do you think you can do that?”

Violet nodded eagerly, and when Robert started undressing her, lifting her shirt over her head (“Arms up, baby. That’s a good girl!”) and unclasping her bra, she made no move to resist. She looked down at her bare breasts popping free, and something stirred in her mind, some feeling that this wasn’t supposed to be happening, but an instant later her head was clear and empty and sweet again. The music played so gently, so loudly inside her skull.

“At a girl!” Robert cooed, positioning a frilly pink bonnet over Violet’s head and tying it beneath her chin. “Fully dressed! What a pretty princess you are!”

Violet smiled shyly, and Robert stepped back to admire the sight of the twenty-something woman wearing nothing but a thick disposable diaper and a poofy pink bonnet.

“Can you bat your eyelashes for me, cutiepie?” he asked, smirking. “Can you look cute as a button?”

Violet giggled and batted her eyelashes obediently. She did her best to squirm in a sultry way, her nappy crinkling noisily between her slender legs, and she slipped her thumb back into her mouth to suck on it lustily.

“Good girl!” Robert praised. He had a hungry look in his eyes, and Violet felt a shiver, like a jolt of electricity, run down her spine and into her pussy. She let out a soft moan from behind her thumb.

But then she caught sight of something nearby. Her friend Hannah was being dressed by another of the invigilators, and Violet saw that instead of a nappy, she was having a pair of pull-ups tugged up her legs and over her bottom. In fact, several girls were wearing pull-ups, and some were even getting up from a row of pink training potties that sat along one wall. Her thumb came out of her mouth with a pop.

“Why don’t they hafta wear nappies?” she asked, sticking out her bottom lip in a pout.

“Well, they didn’t wet their pants like babies,” Robert explained slowly, “so they get to wear pull-ups and use the potty like big girls.”

Hannah caught her eye and looked at her smugly. The sweet music played a discordant sound in her mind, and Violet felt a sudden anger well up inside her. She stomped her foot furiously.

“You wook stu-pid!” she sneered at Hannah, not even bothered by how it suddenly seemed much harder to speak. She felt a little naughty saying something like that, but none of the invigilators intervened. Robert and the invigilator who was looking after Hannah were both watching with smiles on their faces.

Hannah scowled angrily. “At weast I’m not in a dumb-dumb baby nappy!”

“Yeah?” Violet realised she was trembling with rage. Tears were stinging her eyes. She and Hannah had always been good friends, but right now she hated her. “Well you a… you a stu-pid potty bitch!” she spat, and stuck out her tongue.

At that, Hannah’s lip began to tremble, and a moment later she was crying her eyes out like a little girl, until the invigilator she was with scooped her up and bounced her in his arms, cooing at her gently.

Violet looked on guiltily, but Robert pulled her into a big hug and patted her thickly padded bottom, sending more pleasant tingles into her pussy. “Good girl!” he said. “That’s how girls treat other girls. Well done, Violet! You’ve done such a good job on your How To Treat Other Women module!”

Violet smiled broadly. She felt a lot better. She didn’t even know she’d studied for that! She was pretty sure there’d been something about ‘female unity’ in her notes, now that she thought about it. That must be it. Girls act like bitches to other girls. She was so smart!

Robert’s other hand crept up her body, pausing to press down on the front of her nappy before rising to grope one of her large bare breasts. Violet let out another soft moan, and she looked up into the man’s eyes, becoming vaguely aware that there were moans and squeals and the sounds of kissing coming from all around them. She thrust her diapered crotch against him and slipped a hand down to her nappy, intending to strip it off and free her needy puss-puss. But Robert smacked her hand away before it could touch the tapes.

“No-no, baby,” he said, gently but firmly. “That’s a no-no. You don’t take your nappy off.”

Violet whined. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Hannah getting her training pants pulled down, her wet pussy gleaming and ready. “But then how…? How we gonna…?”

“You’ve got everything you need up here,” he said, caressing her breasts with one hand and brushing a thumb across her lips with the other. He pushed her down to her knees. “Everything you need to pass your Being A Whore module.”

Slowly, Robert unzipped the crotch of his jeans and pulled out his cock. Violet started to drool. Her mind was full of the soft, happy music. She slipped her wet lips around Robert’s dick and began to suck.

“That’s it,” Robert said huskily. “Good girl!”

Violet gurgled in agreement as she slurped and suckled. As though someone had pressed play on a video, she pictured herself complaining about some nonsense, only for a man to shove his cock between her stupid lips and shut her up. Her eyes rolled back in pleasure.

Robert pulled himself out of her mouth and started pumping between her tits. “We ought to use your silly boobies too, shouldn’t we? They’re not just for decoration, after all.”

Violet squealed happily and held her boobies together for him. Her pussy ached in her nappy, but she knew that didn’t matter. What mattered was his pleasure. She bounced on her knees, and a little stream of pee-pee rushed into her diaper. She’d emptied most of her bladder into her pants during the exam, but it was enough to turn the pristine white of her nappy faintly yellow, and the sudden warmth set off a fresh explosion of tingles in her brain. Her eyes went crossed, and her mouth hung open stupidly.

Robert grunted, pulled his cock out of Violet’s cleavage, and rammed it into her gaping mouth, just in time to unload down her throat.

After a few moments, he stepped away and slipped his cock back into his pants, breathing heavily. “Good girl, Violet,” he grinned at the dazed looking young woman, still kneeling slightly cross-eyed in front of him. “I knew you’d do well in that one. At this rate you’re going to come top of your class!”

Violet let out a happy moan, only vaguely aware of what Robert had said. He helped her to her feet, holding her up to stop her from falling onto the floor in a heap, but after a few seconds she was able to steady herself. The lovely music tinkled reassuringly in her ears. It was then that she felt the pressure in her bottom, growing almost uncontrollable from the moment she’d realised it was there. Violet’s hands shot to her diapered bum, and she gasped as a cramp wracked her bowels.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” Robert cooed, and this time Violet was aware of the mocking edge to his voice.

Her head felt so foggy and confused, but one thought seemed to cut through the haze. No. She couldn’t do that in her pants. The cramp came again, and she doubled over, seconds away from an accident. For one bright moment, her mind became suddenly clear. Her eyes widened as she realised where she was and what she’d been doing. The exam. The invigilators. The music. Oh God, she thought. And then Violet started pooping her pants, and as the yucky mess filled her nappy, it was as if she was pushing her adulthood out as well – dumping all of her dignity and intelligence and independence right into the back of her diaper, to be tossed in her diaper pail later and lost forever.

“Good girl!” said Robert, and Violet felt as if fireworks were going off inside her head, she was so happy. “A full nappy means full marks!” He was smirking as he watched the back of Violet’s diaper balloon out and sag heavily between her legs. “You need a reward, little lady!” He took out a slip of gold stars from his pocket, peeled one off, and stuck it right in the middle of her forehead. Violet orgasmed. She doubled over, her knees bent inwards, and moaning while she finished making a messy nappy.

Once the dizzy ecstasy had passed, she looked up with her eyes unfocused, and a grin spread across her face. She’d got full marks on her Woman’s Studies degree! She shifted in her sagging nappy and licked a bit of leftover cum from her lips. She was such a smarty-pants!

Robert led her out of the room, off to meet her new Daddy, and Violet skipped happily as she went, the tinkling music still playing in her head.

“Hello, Penelope,” she said, barely glancing over when she saw her daughter. “I bought you a lollipop. It’s on the table there.”

For a moment, Penelope was stunned. Her mother had never, not in twenty-one years, bought her a lollipop, or any other kind of sweet for that matter. To do so now seemed almost insulting. “A lollipop?” she repeated, scornfully. “What, have you got a tricycle for me too? I’m not a little girl, Mum.”

“I got a few for when Halloween comes around,” her mother said, airily. “For the trick or treaters. It’s on the table if you want it.”

“Is that what you went out for?” Penelope asked, incredulously. “Halloween’s not even for another week. And anyway, you hate Halloween. You never used to let me go trick or treating with my friends when I was little.”

But her mother ignored her, busying herself with the kitchen cupboards. Penelope frowned. Apparently she hadn’t earned a reply. She went over to the table, more out of curiosity than anything else, and there it was. A large, rainbow swirl lollipop, like something out of an old-fashioned sweet shop.

She felt a little odd staring at it. The bright candy colours almost looked like they were spinning, swirling around, pulling her closer. She blinked. Maybe she did want a lollipop. She reached out and picked it up, and all of a sudden she realised that her mouth was watering. She licked her lips and swallowed, staring into the spiral. The colours were so bright and inviting. It looked so tasty. So yummy. She gave it a lick.

At once, she felt a rush of pleasure so strong that she almost moaned out loud. She licked it again, and it was as though fireworks were going off inside her head. She’d never tasted anything so delicious. It was too large to fit into her mouth, but she shoved it against her lips and sucked on it desperately. She could feel drool running down her chin, but she didn’t care. Slowly, the lollipop began to dissolve, and Penelope swallowed down the sweetness over and over again. She licked and slurped and suckled, the lollipop getting smaller and smaller, her head full of nothing but thoughts of her delicious treat. She’d have to thank her mother, she thought. She’d have to thank Mummy for buying her a yummy lollipop.

Then, as if she was waking up from a dream, she realised it was all gone. She’d eaten the whole thing. No more lollipop. Her lips were wet and sticky, as was her chin, and she felt a horrible guilty fear welling up inside her. She’d done something naughty, she was sure of it. She was going to be in big trouble. But when she looked up nervously, she saw that Mummy didn’t look angry. She was just standing there, watching her with a smile on her face.

“Isn’t that so much nicer than those icky cigarettes?” she asked.

“Yes, Mummy,” Penelope agreed, pleased that Mummy wasn’t cross with her. Her head felt a little funny, a little fuzzy and tingly. “Thank you for my lolly!”

“Good girl for remembering your manners,” said Mummy, taking a damp cloth and wiping her daughter’s messy lips and chin. “Well, you’ve had your lovely lollipop, and now we need to do something about those nasty clothes too.”

Penelope looked down at her ripped jeans and her low-cut, figure-hugging top. “But… I like my clothes,” she said, confused. She still felt a little dizzy.

“Well Mummy doesn’t, so we’re going to throw them away. I’ve put some new clothes out for you upstairs. Go up and change into them.”

“But…”

“Penelope,” Mummy said, warningly. “Do you need a red bottom?”

“No, Mummy,” Penelope said quickly, her hands darting instinctively to her bum.

“Then do as you’re told.”

Penelope nodded. Her head was feeling a lot clearer now. She didn’t want a spanking. She wasn’t sure when she’d last got a red botty over Mummy’s knee – for some reason it felt like a long time ago, but that couldn’t be right. She was always getting into trouble with Mummy, so it must have been very recently. And wasn’t that so silly? Because really it was easy, it was so simple to just behave and do what Mummy told her. She went upstairs and headed for her bedroom, Mummy following behind her and patting her rear occasionally to speed her along.

Once she entered her room, Penelope saw immediately that Mummy had laid out a short, pale yellow dress with ruffled sleeves and a Peter Pan collar on the bed. Her name was stitched onto the front. Beside it was a pair of matching yellow ankle socks. For a moment, Penelope thought there was no underwear, but then her eyes fell upon the big white square sitting on the bed and, with an unpleasant tightening in her stomach, she realised what it was. Surely that wasn’t for her. She was a big girl. And those were for babies.

“Get undressed, Penelope,” Mummy instructed.

Penelope started to strip. She pulled her top over her head and yanked down her jeans, handing her clothes to her mother as she went. Her mother tutted at the rips in her jeans, and tugged at the low-cut neck of her top as she held it. “These are going straight in the bin!” she declared, more to herself than to her daughter.

Once Penelope was down to just her bra and undies, she paused and looked at her mother.

“Underwear off too,” said Mummy. “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

Penelope nodded submissively. She reached behind her to unclasp her bra, letting it fall away from her breasts, and slipped her lacy panties down her legs. Once she was naked, she looked at the nappy on the bed dubiously.

“Put it on,” said Mummy.

“Um, Mummy?” Her voice was meek and whiny. “Can’t I wear my knickers instead? Like you?”

“No,” Mummy said, simply. And that was the end of the matter. Penelope didn’t ask why not. She already knew the answer. Because Mummy said so.

For a moment, there was a pressure in the back of her head, some voice or feeling that urged her to disobey, but Penelope shook her head and ignored it like a good girl. She picked up the nappy, blushing. She didn’t mind her nice new clothes, but this was silly. It was large and thick, and it crinkled loudly. It looked even bigger and more babyish once she’d unfolded it, but she fed it through her legs obediently, pulled it up against her naughty parts, and started taping the sides together with Mummy’s help.

“There you go,” Mummy said once they’d finished, standing back to admire the sight of her adult daughter standing in her bedroom wearing nothing but a thick, disposable diaper. “Pretty as a princess.”

Penelope blushed even redder, and she lifted her arms gratefully when Mummy pulled her new dress down over her head. It was a little tight around her chest, but otherwise soft and comfy.

“Lift your feet so I can put your socks on,” Mummy ordered, and Penelope obeyed, lifting her legs one at a time and holding onto Mummy’s shoulders for balance while her frilly ankle socks were slipped over her bare feet.

“Perfect,” Mummy announced, standing up to fiddle with her collar and sleeves and straighten out the hem of her dress. “Come and see how you look.” She took her by the hand and lead her over to the floor-length mirror standing against one of the bedroom walls.

Penelope’s cheeks went scarlet when she saw her reflection. Whenever she moved, there was a flash of white from under her dress, the hint of a nappy, and the bulk between her thighs spread her legs apart and forced her to stand in an overwide, toddlerish stance. There was a twinge in her bladder, and a horrible thought occurred to her. “Mummy, am I allowed to use the potty?” she asked.

“No, Penelope,” Mummy said firmly. “No more toilets for you. That’s what your nappies are for. When you need to go potty from now on, you’ll do it in your underwear.”

And that wasn’t okay. That was too far. She wasn’t going to accept that. Even Mummy was looking at her almost expectantly, because surely she was going to argue, to refuse. She wasn’t going to nod her head and just agree to pee and poop in her own pants from now on. She was going to fight.

Instead she pouted. “Okay, Mummy…”

Mummy’s smile widened. “Good girl,” she said, primly. “Do you need to go potty now?”

Penelope nodded.

“Pee-pee or poo-poo?”

She thought about it for a moment. “Both, Mummy,” she said.

Mummy nodded. “Then you can do both in your nappy right now, Penelope,” she said, in a tone that brokered no discussion. “Chop, chop.”

Penelope looked down shyly at her nappy. It was easy enough to start peeing. It took a few seconds, but then she could feel the warm wetness spreading through her padded pants. It didn’t feel too bad, but the knowledge that she was peeing herself sent a fresh flush to her cheeks. And it was nowhere near as embarrassing as what she did next. She bent her knees a little, falling into a squat, and started pushing. She tried to pretend Mummy wasn’t watching her, but when she glanced up at the mirror, past her own face, red with effort and embarrassment, she could see her smiling. Penelope clenched her eyes shut, screwed up her face, and grunted as she dumped a warm, heavy load into the back of her nappy. She felt like a stupid baby, but knowing she was being a good girl made her head tingle with pleasure, just like it had when she’d had her lovely lollipop. She bit her lip as she pushed another wave of poo-poo into her pants. Then, a little dazed, she finished going potty and looked up.

“Good girl!” Mummy said, looking very pleased.

Penelope smiled. “Can I have another lollipop, Mummy?” she asked hopefully, straightening up.

“No, Penelope,” said Mummy. “I think you’ve had enough lollipops. All that sugar will ruin your teeth! But if you’re a very good girl, Mummy and Daddy will buy you a tricycle. You can ride it around outside and show off for all the neighbours.”

“Yay!” Penelope cheered, jumping up and down and flashing her loaded, sagging nappy. She really wanted another lollipop, but a tricycle would be almost as good. “Thank you, Mummy!”