Lil' Bug's Dreamies

“It’s for your own safety, Naomi,” said Isaac. “You don’t know that there won’t be any mental changes. Your little pee-pants problem could just be the start.”

“If there were going to be worse symptoms, they would’ve happened by now!” Naomi insisted, cringing at his choice of words. “I’ve been looking into it online. There are loads of women like me! We barely show any symptoms at all, and yet we’re subjected to all the same rules as a bunch of overgrown toddlers!”

“We don’t know enough about how the virus works, baby,” Isaac said, calmly. “For all we know, you could go months without any more symptoms, only to develop severe ones all at once. What if it happened while you were driving? What if you suddenly found yourself with the mind of a little girl while you were out alone in the city somewhere? Just think what might happen! Anyone could take advantage of you, sweetheart!”

“But there have been hardly any cases where a women develops more severe symptoms after three weeks!” Naomi protested.

“But there have still been some,” said Isaac. “Do you know what would happen if you ended up mentally regressed, and I’d allowed you to just wander about like you didn’t have the virus? The government would label me an irresponsible caregiver, and I’m not going to risk that. I’m not going to risk you being taken away from me and dumped in foster care. Is that what you want, Naomi? Do you want to end up in foster care?”

Naomi was blushing furiously. After a moment, she looked down at the floor and shook her head.

“Then be a good girl and do as Daddy says.”

Naomi tensed. “You’re not my Daddy,” she mumbled, still looking at her shoes.

“I am now, baby,” Isaac said firmly, “and I’m going to take care of you properly.” He took her by the hand and started leading her out of the living room.

“Where are we going?” Naomi asked, meekly.

“I ordered some new clothes for you,” said Isaac, “and they arrived today. They’re in the bedroom.”

“New clothes?” Naomi repeated, confused. Then she realised what he must mean. “No!” she squealed, trying to dig her heels into the carpet. “Please, Isaac! Please just let me just wear my normal clothes!”

“Don’t be silly, sweetie,” he said, pulling her along effortlessly. “The official guidelines state that you have to be recognisable as a virus victim. That way people will know something’s wrong if you’re by yourself. You’ve been walking around in adult clothes for far too long already, little missy.”

“But I don’t want to dress like one of them!” Naomi whined, thinking of the virus victims she sometimes saw in public, grown women dressed up in ridiculous rompers and overalls and frilly dresses. Mostly they had gormless, happy expressions on their faces, victims of the full mental regression, but others, who had merely manifested babylike behaviours that rendered them helpless and dependent, blushed with embarrassment as they toddled along in their ludicrous outfits. The idea that she should have to dress like that too, when all that was wrong with her was a little trouble holding her pee, was utterly absurd. “People will think I’m fully regressed!” Naomi complained desperately. “Isn’t it better that they know I still have my adult mind?!”

“It’s better to be safe,” said Isaac. “Plus the guidelines say it’s a good way of signalling to everyone that you’re out of your contagious phase. That will give people a lot of peace of mind if you do something babyish in front of them.”

They entered the bedroom, and Naomi saw that there were several large cardboard boxes sitting on the bed. They looked perfectly innocent, but the thought of what was inside them made her chest tighten. “Please, Isaac…” she tried again, but her boyfriend paid her no mind.

He got to work opening the boxes, and Naomi thought she might faint at the sight of the clothes he began to pull out. The fact that it was exactly what she’d expected, and feared, was no comfort to her. Childish tops and leggings, a soft pink tutu, a snug-looking pramsuit, a sparkly leotard with Disney princesses on the front, a sky blue onesie with a pattern of yellow ducks; Isaac unpacked them all and folded them neatly on the bed, ready to fill her drawers. He glanced up at her. “Start getting undressed, baby,” he said, as he folded a set of purple pyjamas covered in prancing unicorns. “I want to get you into your new clothes right away.”

Naomi opened her mouth to protest, but Isaac shot her a warning look and she closed it again. Cheeks flushed, she started to strip, removing her loose, V-neck shirt and letting it drop to the floor. She slipped off her shoes, and her jeans went next, falling to her ankles and leaving her standing in nothing but her bra and her thick pull-ups. She looked down at the clothes at her feet, wondering when she’d get to wear them again. The possibility that the answer might be never hit her suddenly like a blow to the stomach. Feeling faintly dizzy, she examined her absorbent underwear, and with a fresh rush of embarrassment, she noticed they looked a little discoloured. She squeezed her legs together experimentally. There a slight squish. When had that happened?

“Did you have an accident, baby?” Isaac asked.

Naomi froze when she realised he’d been watching her. Her face felt as red as a tomato. She couldn’t bring herself to look up at him, so she just nodded her head, still looking at the floor.

“Do you need changing?” he asked.

“No,” she mumbled. “It’s not much.”

“Alright, darling,” Isaac said, gently. “For now we’ll just get you dressed, okay? Arms up!”

“I know how to dress myself,” Naomi said, petulantly, raising her head to glare at her boyfriend. But she lifted up her arms all the same, allowing him to pull a long-sleeved pink top down over her head. At first she thought it wasn’t that different from the shirt she’d just removed, except for the colour, but then she spotted the writing on the front. Daddy’s Girl. “Seriously, Isaac?”

“It looks cute on you,” her boyfriend said, planting a quick kiss on her pouty red lips. Naomi felt butterflies fluttering in her tummy despite herself. Cute, as in adorable, she reminded herself. Cute, as in not sexy. She imagined trying to seduce him in any of her new clothes, and didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. It was bad enough trying to be sexy in padded underwear, let alone a romper with a pattern of rattles, baby blocks, and diaper pins.

A pair of thick white tights came next, and Isaac knelt down in front of her, allowing her to stabilise herself with her hands on his shoulders while she stepped into them. “Left foot first, that’s it. Then the right. Good girl!” He pulled them up her legs and over her bulky protective pants, but despite the tights’ thickness, they didn’t quite conceal what Naomi wore around her bottom.

Isaac stood after that, picking two pink ribbons from a pack on the bed, and started running his fingers through her luscious black hair. Naomi knew what he was planning at once. “No!” she squealed, stepping back. “There’s nothing wrong with keeping my hair down! It’s fine!”

“The government guidelines say that pigtails and pink ribbons are the best and easiest way a virus victim can be identified, Naomi,” said Isaac, firmly. “This way everyone will know you’re a Baby Fever girl.”

Naomi clenched her fists. She wanted to scream and shout, but she knew that if she did, Isaac would just say she was throwing a tantrum and suggest it was evidence of her developing virus symptoms. She took a deep breath. “Fine,” she said, through gritted teeth.

“Good girl!” Isaac said, and he started tying her dark hair into a pair of high pigtails that dangled down to tickle her cheeks. “Perfect,” he announced, once he was finished. “Come see what you look like, baby.”

Naomi wasn’t at all keen to see her reflection, but Isaac dragged her over to the full-length mirror and stood her in front of it. “Oh my God…” she whispered when she saw herself. She looked like a giant three-year-old, complete with training pants bulging out from under her tights. Tears welled up in her eyes. “I look like a joke!”

“Don’t say that, sweetheart,” Isaac cooed, bending down to kiss her cheek. “You look adorable! You’ll be the cutest girl in your class!”

“In my… in my what?”

“Your class, baby. At your daycare.”

Daddy appeared in the doorway, filling the frame effortlessly. He was truly handsome in that easy, comforting way, broad shoulders, expressive face that could shift from gentle to playfully stern in a heartbeat. When he looked at her, his eyes softened with that special warmth she loved more than anything.

“You look beautiful, princess,” he said, voice deep and affectionate. He stepped inside and wrapped his arms around her from behind, resting his chin on top of her head. “My pretty date.”

She leaned back against his chest, smiling brightly up at him in the mirror.

“Thank you, Daddy! I picked this dress because I thought it would be perfect for walking around the fair. Did you know the local fair has over thirty different food stalls this year? I read about it online. There’s even a new cotton candy stand with vanilla flavours. We have to try it.”

He chuckled, that wonderful hearty laugh she adored, before pressing a soft kiss to her temple.

“I’m looking forward to it, sweetheart. You’ve been so excited about our big date.”

But then he reached for the large pink diaper bag sitting by the door.

Her stomach dropped.

Daddy… no.

The frustration bubbled up fast. Everywhere we go he brings that bag. And he only picks daytime activities now because he decided ages ago that I need an early bedtime. It’s silly. Just because I get tired by eight o’clock doesn’t mean I need to be in bed by eight.

When they were first dating, he used to kiss her passionately in the street after a romantic dinner and movie. Now the only “public displays of affection” Daddy gave her were forehead kisses, boops on the nose, and sly diaper checks when no one was looking.

She had gotten herself all dolled up this morning. Today was supposed to be different.

“Daddy, please,” she said, turning in his arms with a determined pout. Her big doe eyes pleaded with him. “We talked about this. Today is supposed to be different. I want to feel like your girlfriend, not your baby. I can handle it. I promise. I’m going to stay dry all day like a big girl. Please?”

He looked down at her with that protective, knowing expression. His hand gently brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

“I know you want to try, my sweet girl. And Daddy is so proud of how determined you are. You’re smart, you’re bubbly, you’re full of all those wonderful facts and thoughts you love sharing with me. But I also know my little princess. I know how your body works when we’re out having fun for hours. I’m not going to risk you being uncomfortable or embarrassed. Let me take care of you properly today.”

She fussed softly, cheeks flushing pink as he guided her toward the bed.

“But Daddy… the dress. It’s so pretty. The diaper will show and I’ll look silly…”

“You could never look silly to me,” he murmured, laying her down gently. “You’ll look adorable as always."

The thick diaper crinkled loudly as he worked, the familiar baby powder scent mixing with her signature vanilla fragrance. When he finished and helped her stand, the sundress did little to hide the obvious padded bulk. Every movement made a soft, telltale rustle.

She wanted to believe her old mask could still fit convincingly. That she could still be the big girl she used to pretend to be. But deep down, a small voice whispered that things weren’t like old times anymore.

Because now she was his baby girl.

And Daddy’s job was to make sure his little one was safe and cared for.

The car ride started off hopefully.

She held Daddy’s hand across the center console, swinging it gently. The windows were down, letting in warm summer air that smelled like fresh-cut grass and distant barbecue smoke. Her sundress fluttered against her thighs. For a few minutes she let herself believe this was really going to be their day.

“Did you know fairs like this one have been around since the 1800s?” she said brightly. “They started as agricultural shows but turned into these big celebrations of community and fun. I think that’s so sweet.”

Daddy smiled, giving her hand a squeeze. “I love how you know so many interesting facts, princess. Tell me more.”

She beamed, feeling a little spark of confidence.

But every bump in the road made the thick diaper crinkle loudly beneath her dress. The pink diaper bag sat openly in the backseat like an unwelcome guest.

When they arrived at the fair, the full sensory explosion hit her. The air was thick with the sweet scent of fried dough, popcorn, and vanilla cotton candy. Children laughed and screamed on rides. Carnival music played from old speakers. Bright lights and colourful booths stretched out in every direction.

Her heart lifted. This could still be romantic, she thought, slipping her hand into his again. We can walk around, eat cotton candy, maybe kiss on the Ferris wheel like old times.

For the first twenty minutes, it almost felt perfect. They walked hand-in-hand past game booths. She chattered away about the history of ring toss games and how the stuffed animals were probably made in the same factories as her favourite plushies at home. Daddy listened thoughtfully with that fond expression.

But then he gently steered her toward the petting zoo area.

“Daddy,” she whispered, tugging his hand. “I thought we were doing couple things. There’s a Ferris wheel and a cute photo booth over there…”

“We’ll get there, sweetheart,” he said patiently. “But first I want my girl to enjoy herself. Look how cute the baby goats are.”

She tried to stay bubbly, but the sight of parents pushing strollers and toddlers in diapers made her cheeks burn. Her own padded bottom felt enormous under the sundress. Every step made the crinkle louder in her ears.

They stopped at a lemonade stand. Daddy ordered two drinks, one normal cup for him, one sippy cup for her. She accepted it with a small pout.

As the afternoon wore on, the pressure in her bladder built. She shifted from foot to foot, trying to look casual. I can hold it. Big girls can hold it.

But Daddy noticed. He wrapped a protective arm around her.

“Everything okay, princess? You’re doing that little dance.”

Her face went bright red. “I’m fine. I’m being a big girl today. I don’t need help.”

The urge hit hard and fast while they were at the petting zoo. A sudden, warm rush flooded into her diaper. She froze, mortified, feeling the heavy warmth settle against her skin.

Tears pricked her eyes.

“I… I had an accident,” she whispered, voice trembling. “I really tried, Daddy. I wanted to be your big girl so badly today.”

Daddy immediately scooped her up into his arms, carrying her protectively against his chest. “Aww, my poor little girl. You tried so hard to be big today, didn’t you? But babies have accidents. That’s why Daddy brings extra diapers.”

She buried her face in his shirt, tears soaking the fabric. “I thought if I tried really hard, I could be normal for one day. Like we used to be. You used to kiss me in the street and now… now you only kiss my forehead and check my diaper like I’m just a baby…”

Daddy held her tighter. His hand slid down to gently pat the back of her soaked padding.

“Because you are my baby, princess. My delicate little doll with the big pretty eyes and the pouty pink lips. You tried so hard to be a big sophisticated girlfriend today… and you ended up soaking your diaper like the sweetest, smallest girl instead. Doesn’t that feel better than pretending?”

She whimpered, face flaming. “Daddy… people might hear you…”

He chuckled softly and booped her tiny nose. “Let them hear. So what if they know my baby girl needs diapers to catch all her accidents?"

The words made her feel impossibly small.

He carried her all the way to the family restroom, fussing over her the entire time, stroking her hair, rubbing her back, whispering gentle praises. Inside the stall, he laid her on the changing table and cleaned her with slow, careful wipes, powdering her thoroughly until she smelled like pure baby.

“Look at you,” he murmured playfully while taping on the fresh, even thicker diaper. “All blushy and embarrassed in your pretty sundress. My delicate little doll needs so much padding, doesn’t she?”

She whimpered, covering her face. The humiliation felt endless.

When they stepped back out, Daddy carried her again, holding her close like the precious baby she was.

The fair was still alive with noise and color, but she felt like everyone was staring. The thick, fresh diaper forced her legs into that obvious baby waddle. Every step made a loud, unmistakable crinkle that seemed to echo across the entire grounds.

Her cheeks burned hot. She kept her head down, long brunette hair falling forward like a curtain, hoping no one could see how heavily padded she was.

Daddy pulled her closer with a protective arm around her shoulders, but his voice carried that gentle, playful tease she both dreaded and craved.

“Aww, look at my little princess waddling so cutely,” he murmured, leaning down so only she could hear. “That thick diaper makes you walk so adorably. Does it feel nice and bulky between those pretty legs, sweetheart?”

“Daddy… stop teasing me,” she mumbled, even as a tiny, embarrassed giggle slipped out.

He grinned and kissed the top of her head. “But you get so adorably blushy when I tease you. Look at those rosy cheeks. My perfect padded princess.”

For the rest of the afternoon, she stopped fighting.

She let him push her on the swings. She let him carry her when her legs got tired. She let him fix her paci clip to her dress when she got fussy. Every crinkle, every squish, every caring touch reminded her exactly who she was.

They found a quiet bench a little away from the main crowd. Daddy sat down and effortlessly pulled her into his lap, arranging her so she was straddling one of his thighs. The thick diaper squished noticeably under her weight, the crinkle loud in her own ears.

They stayed like that as the sky turned pink and orange. She let herself relax against his chest, sucking softly on the paci he’d clipped to her dress. The fair lights twinkled around them while carnival music played in the distance. Every now and then Daddy would gently pat her warm soggy bottom.

For the first time all day, the constant crinkle didn’t make her want to disappear.

It made her feel safe.

She wasn’t too big for her diapers after all.

i’ve been getting more comfortable with just ~letting go~ in my pullups/diapers recently and i’m very… proud? of myself. it has been making it difficult to do any sort of desperation play though because i just rlly cant hold it that long, or i can’t stop once i start going and leak everywhere on accident >,<

i used to have a lot of trouble messing and i still kind of do, but only because of my environment (worried roommates will smell). it’s still difficult to go in front of others tho 🙈 so y’all should feel special i share with you… :p