LiveLoveDiapers

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You watch as she bends down and collects the scattered toys from within the six foot walled playpen in the living room. Unable to help yourself, your thumb wiggles into your mouth and a soft whimper escapes your lips when she takes your beloved teddy and begins to walk away.

Crying pitifully, you know that it is just a stupid bear. You are a thirty year old woman with an unhealthy obsession but you can’t temper the flames of anxiety in your tummy.

You know that you have to say something, but that’s just what they want and you will not give in that easily… especially not for a stupid ratty stuffed animal.

At least that’s what you tell yourself as you wait and wait and wait and -

“Can I help you with something, baby?” Daddy’s low and gravelly voice shatters the loudness in your mind.

You flinch, visibly startled and step out from behind the door knowing you've been busted. Daddy hasn’t looked up from his papers yet somehow knew you were there.

He beckons you forward with the wave of his hand. “Come,” is all he says and you have no choice but to obey.

He knows you better than you know yourself.

Mommy stands across the room at the washer and dryer, tossing dirty clothes into the machine and you anxiously watch for your teddy.

That action distracts you from the hand creeping towards you. The hand that cups the heavy bulk of padding between your thighs that emits an audible squelch. It distracts you from the hand that turns you around so your back is towards Daddy.

Only when the waistband of the diaper snaps back against your skin do you jump in confusion. Looking up at Daddy, he makes a chiding sound with his lips. “Someone made Daddy a present.”

What?

You frown.

P-present?

“C’mon,” he stands, taking you by the hand but you refuse to move.

“Do you want to stay in your dirty diaper all day?” He asks when your feet remain planted to the ground.

The words echo in your mind like a stab to the heart.

Dirty diaper.

Dirty.

Diaper.

Diaper…

A strangled cry escapes your lips and you immediately look down to find your lower half is bare, besides the thick white bulk taped around your waist that balloons out to your knees.

Hazy memories flicker in your brain of you and Daddy. Crying and screaming and ulti-ult - matums? You said no diapers. Daddy said it was the only way to stay together. That you had hurt his feelings. You remember the tears after that and promises to do better and be a good girl.

You remember Mommy showing up and kissing daddy like you used to kiss him. You remember the fiery anger in your tummy as he held onto her, gazing at her with stars in his eyes and pushing you aside.

You remember when this was your apartment and Daddy’s. It was tiny but perfect for the both of you. The kitchen and living room were just one big room with a tiny hall leading to the front door. There were two rooms - what was once yours and Daddy’s, and the office. Sine then the office had been turned into a nursery for you and you could only watch as Mommy laid in the very bed that used to be yours, snuggling up against the man that was your boyfriend.

Daddy said diapers were the only way. Punishment for kissing another man and not him.

If you wanted to stay together this was the price to pay and you’d agreed because you loved him despite your mistake.

Except he never explained why Mommy was here. Why she had taken your place.

But that is besides the point. The more you think the more it hurts and Daddy said good girls wear diapers. Good girls listen to Mommy. Good girls don’t question their Daddy’s.

And that is enough to keep you from fretting over the fact that you can’t remember the last six months, and why you wore a diaper, and why you referred to Mommy as mommy; and why weren’t fighting to get your boyfriend back and why you accepted this treatment like it was normal…

“Ughhh,” you groan and blink heavily against the fog that has encroached the front of your head.

Daddy stands before you with his hands on his hips, staring at you with a knowing look.

Whatever you were just thinking about has gone from your mind and to your shock you’ve now switched positions. Your knees are bent and you're squatting low to the ground. There’s a hint of a smell, something foul, and that is when you feel the warm brown lump at your back end. It smushed against your bottom, slowly creeping up your back.

How could this be? How could you not feel yourself begin to poop -

“Baby make a doozy?” Mommy comes and coos, petting back the dark bouncing curls from your eyes.

She bends you over like a ragdoll, the same as Daddy and laughs. “Looks like the miralax is working.”

Miralax?.

Mira…

Mir-

“It also seems somebody is having a slow day today.”

Your head is so high in the clouds that you don’t even acknowledge the insult spat right in your face.

Blinking slowly, heavily, Mommy has laid a mat out on the ground. Daddy gets a crinkling package. Thick white squares, your stomach grumbles…

“Teddy,” you whimper, suddenly remembering the whole reason you even came out of your room.

Teddy is gonna get lonely.

Teddy needs a hug.

Teddy needs you.

You need Teddy.

Teddy was your friend. Always tucked into your arm when you waddled like a penguin as Daddy and Mommy went about their day doing grown up stuff like counting the bills and cleaning the house and you were the little girl you’d promised to be.

So you and Daddy could stay together.

So you could prove your loyalty to Daddy…

But now you had somehow ended up on your back.

Mommy kneels between your open legs. You watch as she piles her blonde hair atop her head.

Daddy always had a thing for blondes… and that wasn’t you.

A shiver goes down your spine at the sudden coldness to your nether regions.

A stained brown padding is balled up to the side. You're naked from the waist down.

Mommy pulls another wipe from the crinkling package and automatically you lift your hips giving her better access. The action is ingrained into your mind. It’s as if you do this everyday.

Another wipe.

And then another.

And another…

Too soon you are sitting up again.

A massively white diaper separates your thighs so far apart that you couldn’t even close them if you tried.

And you don’t.

Daddy says only naughty girls disobeyed like that and you are a good girl. You have to be a good girl to get Daddy back.

But as you sit trapped within the walls of the playpen and the tv flickers on, you can’t even comprehend the irony of the whole situation.

Mommy and Daddy snuggled up on the couch and their lips locked together. Hands on the face that you used to touch, breathing in his musky scent that you loved. All the while, it now belongs to another woman and you sit here in a diaper with your teddy and a grainy bottle of formula in front of the television.

Soggy Froggy ribbits to life and you can not help but watch, wide-eyed. The bright flashing colors rope you in as Soggy Froggy begins to sing:

“Soggy Froggy likes to hop! Soggy Froggy likes to jump! Do you know what else Soggy Froggy likes? Good girls! Good girls don’t cry and good girls don’t fight and good girls' diapers are never dry. Can you tell Soggy Froggy… are you a good girl?”

You don’t know how long the show continues to play but by the constant warmth of your diaper, sky changing from night to day, and the summer months turning to a frigid cold, it doesn’t really matter.

You’re Daddy’s little girl… whether you wanted to be or not.

ooOoo

ooOoo

Five seconds…

Eyes wide, she shook her head, desperately pleading with the clock to speed up or to break or miraculously just disappear.

Four…

Tears burst from her eyes, dribbling down her cheeks mixed in with her running snot. It was supposed to be right this time, she was supposed to be free! She was a big girl! Really she was! If only she could just convince her. Now, crawling around the room, her bum wiggling in the air, she was aware of how ridiculous she looked. Hell, she was practically humping the carpet.

Libby didn’t think she was going to make it. The potty sat over against the wall- pink and sparkly and locked up with the stupid chain.

Three seconds now.

Her face crumpled, unable to stop the flow of tears as she pleaded to whatever God up there not to let her fail. If she could hold it just a few more seconds then this would all be over.

But Libby already knew it was too late.

Having held it in since lunch, she drank from her bottle every hour like a good girl, gaining hundreds of streamers and bringing in the money acting like the little baby everyone wanted her to be.

Three months, she had been stuck here in this oversized nursery fit for an adult sized baby. Sickeningly pink and filled to the brim with frilly outfits and dolls and toys, it would be an actual child’s dream room.

However for her, it had quickly become a never-ending nightmare.

Back in October, she’d seen the beautiful woman at the bar and Libby had been the hooker, just looking for an extra buck or two. Libby had spotted her a mile away, flashing her Cartier watch nursing a glass of red wine. Lean body, olive skin, and dark cascading hair… everything about her screamed money! Italian!

At the time, she’d thought it strange how such a beautiful woman could be so alone. But that’s exactly what she’d been hoping for and Libby was been stupid enough to fall for her trap.

Absolutely smashed off her face that night, easily she went home with her. They had sex, she demanded the money - which she almost got - but then she didn’t. With her panties on the ground, kneeling over her on all fours, the woman hadn’t even felt her bladder loosen until a warm pool of liquid had formed beneath the two of them.

Surprisingly the woman wasn’t mad and that’s what confused her even more. Her comforter was probably worth hundreds by the looks of it. Libby told her to keep the money for the mess she’d caused, eager to get away, but the woman had had a different proposal- one, if she’d been in her right mind - would have turned down. Heck, she didn’t even know her name… and still didn’t.

Now, staring at the timer, with one second left, it was all over. The floodgate opened. Starting with a few tiny dribbles, it just became heavier until she couldn’t even attempt to hold it in.

She was so close!

The timer went off and the camera blinked red, the invisible audience watching in silent anticipation. They could see her but she could not see them.

Libby had become all too used to the feel of her hot piss splashing and filling up the absorbent padding. Squatting with her legs spread at the camera, it not only gave the best view to the viewers but was the most comfortable. This way it wouldn’t splash up her back or leak from the sides. It was embarrassing she even knew that but if she wanted to stay sane, the girl had to do whatever she could to survive.

Now, hanging her head in shame, the sudden flood of dings throughout the room was music to her ears. It was the sound of money rolling in. People paying to see her debased and humiliated like this. Everyday there were different requests that people would pay hundreds, sometimes even thousands to see her do. If she was able to follow through, that meant treats were in order. However some tasks were meant to be impossible yet that didn’t mean she still didn’t try.

Mommy promised once she paid back her debt for peeing in her bed and was able to go a whole day without wetting and messing her diaper, they could talk about letting her go. The girl welcomed the money and the embarrassment if it meant freedom in the end.

But of course, once again, she’d failed.

Libby knew though that she had, stupidly and drunkenly, agreed to this on her own free will. Who was she to complain?

ooOoo

“Muffin top, were you a good girl for Mommy and all of her friends?”

It wasn’t even a moment later she heard the jingling of keys and the beeps of the code on the other side of the door. Mommy was always watching and waiting and ready to step in at every moment. She was a famous live-streamer, Libby had come to find out, and popular in the fetish world- was that even the right term to use?

“Mommy!” She whined in a light and airy tone. Her voice had taken on a new timbre, becoming delicate, weak, young. She’d perfected the voice so much, always talking in it, she wasn’t even sure if she could go back to her old one. There were eyes and ears everywhere and she could not afford to break the role or else Mommy would tan her hide faster than she can blink.

Lifting her arms, smiling painfully bright, she’d mastered just what the woman wanted and if she wanted to get out of this soaked diaper, she’d act her damn ass off.

“Mommy wet!” She squealed.

Popping the pink sparkly paci into her mouth from off the ground, suckling obediently, she didn’t fight the intruding fingers poking down the back and sides of her diaper.

“Oh, yes you are! Was my little cupcake not able to hold her pee pee for the potty? You know you get potty time every several hours. You aren’t supposed to actually use your diapees, silly!” She bopped her on the nose.

Her face burned red, stomach churning in humiliation at this beautiful woman dressed in a skin tight black dress and perfectly curled hair. Blue eyes sparkling in amusement, she knew exactly what she was thinking. Why would any beautiful woman like her go for a naked diapered adult baby who couldn't even hold in her own pee?

Mommy called her Muffin Top because her belly was like a, well, muffin top, pooling over. It grew bigger everyday as did her thighs grow in thickness and face turn round. She used to be skinny. She used to have a body to kill for that any woman would chase after. Now? She was just her mommy’s little Muffin Top. What good would that get her in life?

She couldn’t help the tears, as they started up once again and Mommy loved the tears.

“Oh, baby,” she cooed, lifting her from the soft carpet cradled in her arms. Her hand cupped her bottom, every squeeze emitting a loud and wet squelch. “Mommy knows how hard it is trying to be a big girl but some people are meant to be little. Some people are meant to use their diapees and wait for their mommy for changes. Isn’t that right, baby?”

“No!” She whined. “Big giwl! I, a big giwl!”

With her face pressed against her large soft bosoms, in all honesty, she didn’t feel very big at the moment.

Throwing a tantrum would get plenty of money from those watching (everyone loved a brat) but that’s not what she thought about. Turning and tossing her head, blonde pigtails swinging every way, Mommy could only giggle, watching the over-grown child prove her points exactly. Slapping her tender thigh, admiring the jiggle, immediately that caught the attention of the Little. Cringing at the painful sting, only then did she quiet down.

“Answer me this baby.” She enquired. “Do big girls have tantrums? Do they wet themselves in a diaper? Do they crawl around naked suckling on a binky?”

It was all rhetorical and the diapered girl had no rational response.

“Since the baby has proven she’s too little to wait for the potty, I think it’s best she stays in diapers for the time being.”

The only reason Libby could never hold in her pee pee was that she was always loaded up on bottles and mommy liked to change potty time and make her squirm. There were always some obstacles designed for her to fail.

It just wasn’t fair!

While she’d stupidly agreed to this, she felt herself begin to slip more and more everyday, forgetting that she’s not actually a baby.

It was all pretend.

Fake.

She was an adult.

Twenty-eight years old.

College graduate.

She did not need a stuffed elephant to help her fall asleep and she did not enjoy suckling on her strawberry flavored paci or getting dressed in pretty clothes with matching dolls with matching diapers. Don’t even get her started on the lack of control, putting on a show like a circus animal for thousands of internet people!

“There’s no need for tears, sweetie.” A hand patted her back, bouncing her up and down. She suckled, quickly and rhymically taking too much comfort in the silicone object.

“Now, you’ve gone tinkle but no stinkys! No diaper change is set without number one and number two, and by the size of your big belly,” she couldn’t help but jiggle her milk-filled pouch, “someone’s got a big poo to get out! Can you do that for mommy?”

Did she even have a choice? The girl could only blink with tired eyes, her stomach actually feeling familiarly hard.

“User Sissyboy and User Twinkletoes have bet five hundred dollars that little Libby can’t handle three enemas! Let’s see whose right, hmm? Can you go poo poo for mommy? For the streamers? Be a good girl, oh yes you can! You’re mommy’s stinky girl!”

Placed on the changing table, her legs kicked out spastically. Involuntary laughter burst from her chest - high pitched giggles - as strawberries were blown on her pudgy tummy and Libby knew, at this rate she’d never be out of diapers.

OoOoo

“Pleaseee!” the boy whined. “Mama, please! I’m a big boy. Not little! Not like Aubrey!” he stomped his foot on the ground.

“Oh, you’re a big boy?” his mama crossed her arms over chest watching as his face crumpled up, lips quivering. “Well, you aren’t acting very big right now. Do big boys have tantrums? Do they throw their food?”

The black-haired boy went quiet, wide brown eyes now intensely focused on the ground. It wasn’t fair. Nothing was fair! A whimper escaped from his pouty lips, angry tears pouring down his face.

“Micah, you know the condition.” she squatted down in front of the sobbing boy. She squeezed his chin in her hand. “Mama and Daddy can not be with our guests if we have a messy little boy. It will not be fun for either of us, I can guarantee you that.”

“But I won’t go potty!” he argued, very proud of his big boy undies. “I won’t! I pwomise! Pwea-”

“No.” her voice hardened as she grabbed him by the arm. “Be lucky you’re not wearing a diaper. Do you want to be like your sister?”

He grumbled, looking over at his stinky sister completely oblivious, playing with her dolls in a stupid diaper.

“Your sister couldn’t control her pee-pee and poopies. Now, she’s in a very comfy diaper and doesn’t have to worry anymore. She didn’t complain, did she?”

Because she’s stupid-

“Answer me.” her grip tightened.

“N-no, mama.” he mumbled.

“I thought you could be mama and daddy’s good boy. You want to watch the fireworks don’t you?”

That was his favorite part! He perked up and the waterworks began to subside. They never let them stay up for New Year’s Eve but this year he wanted to show everyone what a big boy he was.

He wasn’t a stupid baby like Aubrey.

“Mommy is going to be nice and give you a choice: either pullup or diaper. If it were daddy, you would be in diapers by now, just remember that.”

Well, when she put it like that…

“Fine. Puwl-up- ahhh!” He screeched as a sharp slap come down on his thigh.

“Ask mama again in your good boy voice. No grumbles.”

With his face a fiery red, he asked again in a shaking voice, “p-pwease can I wear a puwl-up?”

“Of course, honey! When you ask like that!” She placed a sloppy wet kiss on his cheek before standing up. “Go get your pull-up for mommy and then you can help me change Aubrey. Does that sound good?”

Sitting on the rug of their bedroom, the girl looked up at the sound of her name, brown eyes wide; with her legs splayed out, just a hint of white peeked out from under her dress, the slightest tint of yellow yet she didn’t notice.

ooOoo

“Nooo! Dada no!” he screeched, falling onto his padded bum in tears. Staring at himself in the mirror in just a star covered pull up, and red shirt with a bow tie, he was the exact opposite of a big boy. Big boys wore pants! Snot dripped from his nose as his hands tightened into fists.

“Mama tell me-”

“Mama is not the only parent in this house.” unbudging, his daddy watched as he screamed and whined at the top of his lungs.

“Nah’ fair! B-big boy! Dada bi’boy!”

“Daddy, can wait all night, Micah. Don’t you want to play with Aubrey? Or daddy can put you to bed at 8:00 o’clock? It is your choice.”

Well he didn’t want that… but everyone would think he was a baby. His sister was a big baby. His little cousin, Willa, was a big baby.

But he was a big boy. No one would believe him after this.

The sound of laughter sounded from downstairs as more people arrived at the house. It was only seven o’clock, the night was just starting.

“Bi’boy…” he pouted and his shoulders dropped in resignation.

“Are you ready to be daddy’s sweet boy?”

He nodded, black hair falling in his face, and held his arms out. His daddy knew how much he loved their cuddles. Without a pause he was scooped up into strong arms, legs wrapping around his waist.

“Let's go downstairs. Daddy will even let you have a little treat if you continue to be a good boy.”

The former eighteen-year-old grinned, excited at the sound of that and pledged to be on his best behavior.

But his eyes widened as they entered the living room full of people. There were some familiar faces and then those he’d never seen before. They mingled with one another, sipping the same red drink, mommy and daddy drank every night so it must have been an icky grown up drink.

His arms tightened around the older man, face hidden in the crook of his neck as passing comments were made about the puffy object around his waist.

“Why don’t we say hello to your sister? It appears she has made some friends.”

It appeared she had. Micah scowled as he spotted Aubrey on the couch. She sat in a blonde woman’s lap surrounded by several others.

Everybody loved Aubrey because of how sweet and innocent she roped people into believing her to be.

And Miss Lemon, her latest victim, drove him insane. He didn’t like the lady because she always made him feel smaller. Micah didn’t see why he had to be nice to her but daddy said she was mommy’s work friend. If he was mean to her then mommy’s feelings would be hurt.

Micah didn’t want to do that.

“Dada…”

“Just smile and do whatever Miss Lemon says.”

That was harder said than done as they approached the chatty bat.

“Pat!” she exclaimed, raising her glass in greeting as her other arm was kept securely around Aubrey’s waist.

His sister smiled at the sight of them, her pink paci bouncing in her mouth. The other women awed over her.

“Hello Kendra,” he greeted. “Denise. Belinda.”

“Come! Sit down!” she exclaimed loudly.

Micah didn’t know what his mommy saw in Miss Lemon. The lady’s blonde curls sprung in just about every direction and lips were a crazy bright red which left marks on the glass.

Mommy wouldn’t like that.

His sister’s head was cushioned in her enormous boobs which Micah could never look away from because his mommy’s were small and soft. Her’s looked hard and uncomfy.

“We actually just wanted to say hello to my little girl!”

“Fwoggy” his sister beamed and took a picture book from one of the other woman’s hands.

“Oh my goodness!” Daddy gasped. “Is that Princess and The Frog?”

Giggles elicited from her body as she nodded her head in excitement at her favorite book.

“This little princess just about begged us for a story!” the woman, Denise? Responded.

“Me pwincess!”

“Oh, that’s right, you’re the prettiest little princess there is! However, there seems to be a prince missing.”

He shifted nervously, fingers tightening around his daddy’s collar as all eyes flashed towards him.

“Or do you mean princess?” the third woman giggled, sipping from her glass. “Do put him down with us. We can watch him for a bit, Pat. Go and mingle.”

No no no… this was what he was afraid would happen. No no-

“Well, I did want to check on Nina and get some food in their tummies.”

He patted his chubby belly, pooling over his pullup. His parents said that chubby boys were healthy boys so Micah was very proud of his little tummy. But right now, his stomach dropped in fear as his daddy seemed to give in. Starting to whine, a sharp pinch to his thigh nipped any fight about to rise.

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Bellinda, the raven haired woman with a bad tan, waved off and gestured, “We’ve got plenty of milk to spare between the three of us. Nina already said she was fine with it.”

“Well, if you’re sure that’s alright.”

“Go take a break. We love the Littles! There’s a reason we’re teachers.”

The heavy feeling that had built up in his chest could no longer be held back as he was handed off to the orange lady.

“Daddy will be back soon, Micah. You want to be a big boy, don’t you?”

He was inconsolable, unable to process anything that was said as the rather large woman- Belinda- lifted him off the couch and onto her lap. She smelt stinky of too much perfume and pat his head, wiping the tears away with her thumb.

“You’re going to be daddy’s good boy. Someone doesn’t want to get on the wrong side of Miss Lemon”

The woman beside him whispered into his ear and his blood went cold.

ooOoo

This was the exact reason he didn’t like Miss Lemon and her friends…

“Oh look at his hair. ” Miss Belinda played with the ends of his curls, ending just above his shoulders.

His mommy loved his hair long and shaggy but it constantly got in his eyes which annoyed him and made people make stupid comments like this.

“I keep telling Nina and Pat that he would make the cutest princess!” Miss Lemon gushed. “Would you like that Miss Aubrey? Another little girl to play with?”

No response came from his sister who currently had her mouth stuffed with an enormous boob, just as he had moments ago; and lulled into a tranquil state, the eighteen year old girl melted into Miss Lemon’s arms, suckling the creamy white liquid in delight.

They wore matching sparkling party hats and her poofy short red dress ended just above her waist allowing everyone to see her very wet diaper.

It had been an hour and still mommy and daddy had not come back.

“Oh, he definitely would. Perhaps if we brought him to Sweetie Pies and he could play with all of the other Sissies-”

“Oh no!” Miss Lemon exclaimed, now on her sixth glass of the red drink. “You don’t know how many times I’ve told Nina. The kids have no friends! They sit here all day in the house with Pat, with no social interaction. I mean, Nina works at the daycare with us! It’s so easy just to bring them along, I don’t understand!”

She downed the rest of the glass, an unhinged look in her eye as she roughly switched Aubrey to her other engorged pale breast.

“And don’t even get me started on feeding,” she continued. “Of course, everyone has their preferences bu-but formula, really? Look at how skinny they are. I’m worried that they aren’t getting proper nutrients and the bond between them can not be as strong. See how Aubrey clings to me.”

The women glanced down at the girl who’s hands cupped her breast, feeding in a hungry manner as his body lay limp, eyes heavy.

“If I was there mommy-”

“Kendra!”

“Mommy!”

Everyone froze.

“Ladies, I see you’ve kept my kids entertained.” she laughed, sitting down.

Micah crawled into her lap, trying not to show the ache that was exploding in his tummy and eager to get away from the crazy ladies.

If there was any indication that she’d heard what they were saying, she didn’t show it.

He could not go potty right now. Not when everyone was watching. He was a big boy. Not baby. Not like-

“You’re quite wiggly, sweetie. Does someone have to go potty?” she shifted him so he was now facing the group and hand gently massaged his tummy. He twisted and turned, unable to hold back a groan as the ache increased now in his little willy.

“I did just feed him,” Miss Bellinda pointed out. “He must also be sleepy, little boys should not be awake this long.”

His cheeks tinted pink as he clung to his momma, the front of her shirt twisted in his hands.

“N-no bed,” he mumbled. “Bi’ boy. I’m big boy-”

“Micah,” his head was tilted up towards her. “Remember what we talked about?

How could he forget… taunting him, just a few feet away was the tiny plastic blue potty.

“Mommy will help you take off your pull-up baby, don’t worry. Then you can stay up and see the fireworks. How does that sound, hmm?”

They acted as if he had a choice. Then glancing at Aubrey, she smiled, teeth bared. While her eyes glistened mockingly, to everyone else, she was their perfect little angel.

OoOoo

She twirled in circles, her dress swirling about to the rhythm of the waltz. Tapping against the ballroom floor was the soft patter of her heels. Voices echoed around her—the vicious sound of gossip, kind tones, feelings of jealousy. A bead of sweat dripped down the back of her neck. Nothing would stop her from moving! From dancing! With her eyes closed, she imagined him in her arms. The two of them, together at last, and no one could force them apart. 

She pictured his pale blue eyes, full of warmth, and deep-throated laugh. He escorted her by the arm walking side by side through the gardens. Her name was on his lips. Darla. Oh, his lips! Pink and soft to the touch, practically melting, Darla would remember this night perfectly. He’d promised they’d be together forever, tucking the rose behind her ear. 

She’d reached out her hand, messing up his perfect gelled blonde hair- so blonde- it was almost white. If a man defined perfection, it was Xavier Sandman the Duke of Harrington. From his perfectly symmetrical face, strong jaw, and pink lips, he was the most eligible bachelor around. She couldn’t find a single fault. 

The past two years had been absolutely magical, so unreal it felt like a dream. Now, with her twenty-first birthday having approached it came time for the big question. The statement that would change her life forever. 

There was only one purpose for the coming out ball and that was to find your soulmate. In Napperland, every woman in high society attended at the age of twenty-one. 

Now it was her turn. 

The air was cool and crisp, sending a jolt down her spine as they stepped out into the darkness. Xavier had insisted on the gardens. 

It was a pleasant change, the noise fading into the background, able to hear for the first time that night. She followed hand in hand down the lit cobblestone path away from the ball and hoard of people. 

While some preferred the attention and glam, they were the opposite. What was an intimate moment should be done in an intimate way. 

Darla could only thank the heavens for the darkness, hiding her pink cheeks. 

She was a modest girl unlike the others decked down in elaborate gowns and diamonds large enough to feed an entire continent. 

Her dress was a modest pale pink long-sleeved gown. Lace covering her neck and ending just at the ground, it hugged her curves in all the right places while still allowing movement. 

Simple earrings were the only jewelry worn with her auburn hair done up in two Dutch braids, displaying the roundness of her face. 

Coming to a stop, the young aristocrat could hardly contain her gasp, gazing in shock at the padded bench, surrounded by lilies, already covered and prepared with supplies.

She’d recounted the proposal of her older sister more times than she could count, feeling as if her time would never come.

But here it was… no longer a fantasy. 

“You know I love you,” he began, bending down to one knee with a nervous smile. “I’ve loved you since the day I laid eyes on you at Kingston Manor when you tripped, nearly falling into the fountain. What a disaster that would’ve been!”

An unexpected laugh bubbled up from her chest, tears brimming in her chocolate eyes. 

“I knew that moment, two years ago, that I’d follow you to the ends of the earth. It wouldn’t matter if you were penniless and a peasant, my heart had been captured and you were not about to let it go. I can’t imagine being apart and I hope you feel the same. I promise to care for you until our dying day. I’ll be the best Caregiver and Daddy, I can be, just give me a chance. Lady Darla Pauline Heathers,” he pulled a tiny black box from his back pocket, “will you be my Little?”

Opening the box was a pink pacifier, their initials encrusted in diamonds on the front.  

Tears trickling down her cheeks, she mumbled out a, yes. Embracing and lips pressed together passionately, he stood at almost six feet. Reaching on her tiptoes, his hands at her waist, they molded into one being. One entity.

It could've been seconds or hours but a more pressing, stinky manner grounded them once more. though, drowning in ecstasy, the crinkle was impossible to ignore.

Mother would scold her for improper behavior but damn etiquette! They were in love!!

There were two parts to the proposal for it to be official. Breaking apart, she announced with practiced ease, “I, Lady Darla Pauline Heathers, accept you: Lord Xavier Landon Sandman to be my Caregiver and Daddy. Please, may you change my diaper?”

Lifting up the ends of her gown to her waist, the sagging yellow-brown thick padding between her thighs was on full display. 

All noble women were prepared from the time they were young for the ceremony and post-teenage years. Remember, this was only the engagement and not until the wedding was complete, could they truly be Caregiver and Little. 

This was a privilege only afforded to the most wealthy and elite to become un-potty trained, pampered baby girls of Dukes, Kings, alike. 

It’s how you told apart from the peasants from the aristocracy. Just check beneath their dresses. 

It was rather a large crime for peasant women to be diapered and incontinent past the age of seven years old. They were treading in a place they did not belong and never would. Of course, there were exceptions for the medically incontinent but those were rare and were strict guidelines for who qualified to be diapered.

Now, she spread her legs as he cupped her crotch, slowly moving to the backside. Squeezing firmly, further pushing around the warm brown load, Darla could not help the pleasurable sigh that escaped her lips. 

It had taken two years for her to get to this point where all hesitation was out the window. No longer did she have to think about wetting or messing herself, it just came naturally. Her governess, Mrs. Pembleton was a stern woman with stern methods but she’d gotten the job done.

Messy days were now her favorite. It was like floating on a cloud, warm and soft. Now she got to share it with Xavier.

The first diaper change was an intimate moment, solidifying the engagement until the wedding. Her diaper was nearly bursting, hardly able to be contained by the plastic pants and soakers. 

A wise man once said, the fuller the diaper the stronger the love. 

Of course, it was just a saying but Darla couldn’t have been more proud. 

It was well-known her cousin’s (bless her soul) engagement was broken off due to her inability to mess. It was seen as a slight on her boyfriend, not even attempting to release her bowels for him. It was quite the scandal at the time. Now, forever she would spend her days, diaperless and manless, away in a convent somewhere up north. 

“You’re absolutely perfect,” he whispered, unzipping the back of her dress. “I wouldn’t care if your diaper was clean, you are that special.”

Opening her mouth, the rubber bulb slid between her lips with ease, resting comfortably. Once again, the waterworks began as she laid back on the bench suddenly hit with a burst of warmth. 

She glanced down, her fingers and toes curling into the fabric. 

Heated blanket. 

The bulb bouncing between her lips, Darla felt rather indifferent to her bare state as the layers were peeled back, revealing the mess she’d created. 

“I believe three diapers will do the trick! You sure are a stinky girl, aren’t you?”

Darla couldn’t dispute that, spotting a mischievous smile as a warm wipe touched her skin, legs raised in the air, ensuring every possible nook and cranny could be cleaned effectively. 

Some preferred this moment to be done in front of the Court, as was most likely happening now, but for Darla it was just too personal. Too special of a moment to have it spoiled by onlookers. 

Another part of her, couldn’t wait to re-enter the ballroom. Not everyone received engagements and that was clear from the pacified girls to the paci-less. 

Her arch-nemisis, Lorena Kingston (remmeber the manor?) had bragged about her sure engagement to the Duke of Neaderpoint- some faraway castle in a faraway land no one really cared about. It would be a pleasant sight, Darla couldn’t deny, to see her taken down a notch. 

“I think that ought to do it!” 

Had it happened already? He helped her up, thighs separated by thick padding, unable to close shut. The waddle would be unable to ignore and it seemed dancing smoothly was out of question for the rest of the night. 

“Do you feel alright?” his brows furrowed together nervously. “I tried not to make it too tight and apply the right amount of powder. Mother always explained the threat of diaper rash. I wouldn’t want to cause-” “Aviah,” she spoke his name, words jumbled by the pacifier, “I’ish abshowoowy perfect!”

Until now, her governess and father had always diapered her (it was unbecoming for two diapered women to change one another) with rather rough hands. The young Lord was a positively splendid change 

First-time diaper changes were a scary but exhilarating feeling and Darla would not allow her intended to beat himself up! No, that certainly would not do. 

As her dress fell back to the ground, she stood up (not without some help). Escorted arm in arm, they made their way back to the ball, a renewed sense of energy streaming through their system… and into her diapers. 

“Already wet?” he quirked a smile. 

She blushed, the squelch of wet padding trailing in their step. Today was a good day- no, scratch that. It was a perfect day. Diapered, pacified, and pampered by the love of her life… what more could a girl want? 

ooOoo

A/N: 

Kitty was absolutely buzzed with excitement as the tv flickered to her favorite show. She focused on bright colors, glancing over the jumbled words that appeared on the screen. Reading was not a needed skill when she had her daddy to tell her stories all the time. 

At daycare, they taught her how to spell her name and that was all she needed to know. 

Daddy called her his little Kitty Kat. Though, sometimes it was Little Miss Crinkle Pants, Lil Stinker, or Poopoo Machine like on her bib, tied around her neck. But of course, she was daddy’s kitty first and foremost. There was no question about that as she bounced in his lap, legs splayed in only a very thick diaper. 

“Dada wook!” she exclaimed, unfazed by the dribbling milk coming from her mouth. 

“Oh, yes very nice! Does Kitty like the colors?” 

Like a bobblehead, she nodded enthusiastically, two bleached blonde pigtails swinging back and forth. 

“Drink your baba. Be a good girl.”

The rubber teat teased her lips eventually being allowed to enter. A feeling of calm washed over her, focused on the moving images that did make much sense. Falling back into the comfort of Dada’s broad chest, she continued to suck down all thirty-two ounces of the creamy white liquid. Despite the protest from her very chubby tummy, Kitty continued to drink.

At almost 5 ft. 10 in, twenty-four years old, and weighing one-hundred and forty pounds, she felt tiny in his muscular arms. He was at least a foot taller, able to lift her and all the extra baggage she carried. Dada said chubby girls were healthy girls. That’s why he’d fattened her up from the stick she had once been. 

That was a long long time ago. The dark days. A time when she had no Dada and was all on her own. Where would she be now if he hadn’t rescued her? Kitty didn’t like to think about that. 

Going to a boring school called Harvard and studying to be a lawyer… it was not very fun. 

Do you know what was fun? Daycare! Every day she got to play dress up and make finger paintings for Dada. Plus, Rosie and Evie were there and they were her bestest friends in the entire world! 

They weren’t like the ones from before. What were their names? It was a long longgg time ago. She knew they weren’t good girls because Dada said they weren’t and he is always right. That’s why he rescued her that night, her head fuzzy from the icky drink that was definitely not her baba! He’d become her new home…  taking her away from the loud place and her big girl clothes that no little girl should wear. 

It was for the best, Kitty knew now. She’d put up a terrible tantrum but Dada said that was ok. It’s how little girl behave. Just not too often… then it was just bratty. 

ooOoo

This was why Friday nights were his favorite: no work, all the beer he could drink, and best of all… playtime with his little Kitty- Kat.

The hypnosis series was a success, leaving her even more dependent and in need to mess. 

Finishing the last drops of her bottle laced with laxatives, Deliria, and his special milk, to say she was on another planet would be an understatement. The drug, Deliria, did exactly what it sounded like. Within minutes she would be delirious, increasing her libido until she was nothing but an icky mess of sweat, tears, and poop. 

Of course, he’d taken special measures, locking her little kitten. His Kitty couldn’t get all the fun! While she got playtime at daycare this was Dada’s time.

To her, he was Dada and that’s all he would ever be. Nowadays adult babies were all the rage on the black market. Diaper clad and with their minds turned to mush, never would he have trouble finding his own woman.

It’s not like he was ugly. Being a personal trainer, at the gym five days a week, many ladies came up to him. Tall, tanned skin with dark hair, chiseled jaw, and smoldering blue eyes (their words, not his!) he could have anyone he wanted. But he chose his little Kitty. 

The switch in her mind was all too obvious, watching as her eyes rolled to the back of her head, eyes fluttering shut. Rocking her hips as the drug took effect, the crinkling padding was enough to turn him on.

He’d fitted her with four diapers, extra absorbent and leakproof. Now, after the past two hours of continuous laxatives… Lord have mercy. 

Her lips wobbled, little whimpers emitting from her throat. 

“Dada!” she breathed. “Tickwle Dada! Hewp!” frustration coated her voice as her movements quickened, unable to achieve her desired release. 

So unbelievably sexy… if only the world could see the gem he had captured and what they were missing.

“Does your kitten tickle, princess?” he groaned. “Tell Dada to touch you. Use your words.” 

Even if she could speak, the girl was too lost in her own world. His hand moved to her chest, rolling the two little pebbles between his fingers, wrinkly and dark compared to pale hue. 

They’d played this game long enough for the fingerless mitts no longer to be needed. Kitty knew better than to touch her little buttons. Little girls were not mature enough. That’s why it was Dada’s responsibility. 

It could’ve been minutes or hours but like a bubbling volcano of lava, her stomach rumbled, churning beneath the touch of his hand.

“Is my Kitty gonna make a present for Dada?”

ooOoo

“Just let go…” his breathe, warm and minty, tickled her ear. “Dada’s got you.”

Her emotions were a kaleidoscope of colors. Pure ecstasy... euphoria... but with a little touch of salt. It was like being lost in a maze. The exit so close yet so far. 

She could hear his voice, feel his presence, but the words died on her tongue as soon as they arose. Her heart thundered in her chest, threatening to break free. It was as if her entire body was a wire, tense, waiting to snap. 

As her toes curled and back arched, quick breathless pants escaped her lips. Had she died and gone to heaven? Trembling, the sound of rumpled diapers filled her ears. A moment later, there was a boom. Had her heart exploded? It felt like it was about to.

“That’s it baby. Make poopies for Dada… such a good girl.” 

Poopies? 

Grunting as her belly, let out a big push and a warm load filled her back side. Seated on Dada’s lap, her thighs continued to spread, the dark brown padding expanding rapidly. By this point, her head was consumed with just as mush as her tush. 

Hours could’ve passed and she wouldn’t have noticed. Kitty didn’t have a care in the world because floating among the stars, life could not get much better than this. 

However later… it was not so magical any longer.

“No, Kitty, no tears. Do you want a spanky?” his voice was dark and scary. 

The girl shivered, suckling urgently on the rubber bulb between her lips. She only wanted more playtime! Now he was being a meanie! Against her will, tears sprouted in her eyes, a funny feeling, almost heavy, tingling in her chest. 

Her leg kicked, hands forming into fists. It wasn’t fair! It wasn’t- 

“Don’t make Dada pull out the straps.” he squeezed her face in his hand, bent over her on the changing mat. 

The tv played in the background. Sports. 

Kitty just wanted her show back. 

Whining loudly, a sharp slap landed down on the inside of her thigh. Changing times were never her favorite because it was always chilly and she had to stop playing. 

Right now, it looked like a literal bomb had gone off yet still bucked her hips. Sliding further around in her mess, climbing up her backside she was desperate. Nothing would sooth her aching kitten. 

Dada said all kittens had to wear collars and her’s just happened to be between her legs. It was very annoying being constantly itchy down there. Rosie’s mommy itched her Kitten but Dada said it wasn’t proper for little girls. 

Now, she was angry. Her tummy felt funny and the happy feeling had disappeared. 

“Mowe poopies!” she demanded with a pout. 

Poopies equaled happy feelings and happy feelings equaled happy Kitty. 

“You can poo as much as you want darling,” he held his hands up. “But no more happy feelings until Next Friday. Does Kitty understand Dada?”

No. She did not. 

Covered in poop, the girl wailed, feet and hands slamming down upon the ground. Needless to say... she was no longer in a happy mood and the adventure was over.

ooOoo

A/N:

Hey all! I just wanted to post this quick little one-shot! It’s currently 5:00 am and I wrote this to procrastinate sleeping. Hope you all enjoy!!

You can also find this story on Dailydiapers: a@Fifers12

ooOoo

Poppy Jacobs.

His flower. His little girl.

She was his favorite of the girls he’d acquired so far.

He’d forgotten what it felt like to take care of another. How to be a true Daddy. It was the most precious feeling in the world.

He knew he made the right choice when he spotted her one year ago.

Parker Montgomery was her name. A young college student who thought she was too smart for the world.

But now she was exactly where and who she should be.

He smiled, snapping a picture on his phone of his flower, the pointed pink party hat secured around her chubby face.

Her warm brown eyes, full of resignation, glanced up at the camera.

The fight was fun. It always was in the beginning but there came a point when they realized it was a losing game.

Their broken spirit was just as rewarding- the first step in becoming truly his.

“Flower, do you like your present?” a warm feeling spread throughout his chest, the smile radiating across his face.

His flower was perfect- absolutely stunning. Not like the other Poppy’s who’d wilted and died.

“Yeth Dada,” her voice was high, airy, obedient. She knew better than to disobey. The welts on her bottom were testament.

“Tell Dada how much you love your birthday present baby,” his voice rose in excitement.

Tears filled her eyes and a drop slowly dribbled down her flushed pale skin. The chains of the restraints around her ankles and wrists jingled- a sweet reminder of her inability to escape.

“Poppy wove her pwesent Dada,” she answered dejectedly, shackled hands in her lap.

Submission- the one thing he craved was what he now had. There was a time she would’ve screamed and cried. There was a time she would’ve tried to attack and run.

He treated her with meticulous care. Not a strand of her raven hair was out of place, pulled back in two tight ponytails on top of her head. Her skin was as smooth as a baby’s bottom, without a blemish and stomach round and full, due to her daily bottles of expressed breast milk and mashed foods.

Now here she sat naked on her princess potty, body slumped down in defeat. Her sodden diaper stained yellow hung between her thighs.

“Dada knows it’s Poppy's birthday today and you want to be a big girl. If you can show Dada how you can use the big girl potty, maybe we can try pull-ups and potty training.”

Her eyes lit up as if she’d just received a puppy.

“You have ten minutes to make a tinkle and a poo-poo. When Dada comes back and if the princess potty is empty- bye-bye potty training. Do you understand, flower?”

Like a bobble head, she nodded quickly, a new energy rushed through her body.

“Words, Poppy.”

“Yeth, Dada!”

ooOoo

Today was March 17th. St. Patrick’s Day.

Also known as the day of her kidnapping. In her kidnapper’s mind- her birthday.

She only knew him by the name of Daddy, Dada, Papa. He was careful not to reveal any information about himself. The most she’d found out about him in the past year was that he was a violent and dangerous man.

If the illusions to previous captive girls told her anything- they were dead. He referred to them as his Flowers and the others having “wilted and died.” If that wasn’t a symbol for death, she didn’t know what was.

After many spankings, soapy mouths, catheters and enemas, she learned there was a breaking point.

The twenty one year old- now turned one- was not sure when it happened but it did.

Like a file cabinet, her memories of before were stored away at the back of her brain so she could become who she is now.

Parker Montgomery- the fit, sociable, Nebraska State College student, majoring in History was a thing of the past. A distant memory fading each day.

Nowadays her only goal was making her daddy proud, finishing her bottles and being the best little girl she can be.

She did not want to wilt and die.

While Poppy knew, she’d possibly never gain her adulthood back, having been rendered incontinent, this was a first step.

A baby step.

But an odd feeling churned in her tummy, seated on the pink plastic seat. It had been so long since she’d been out of her diapers. It’s not that she liked them but she’d become used to them. The soft padding felt like being cocooned in a warm fuzzy blanket.

This potty was hard and plastic. Cold beneath her powdered bottom.

Before, if she even looked at the toilet, a severe lashing was applied against her tender skin.

Now he wanted her to use it.

She didn’t understand.

Poppy could hear him in the kitchen, just around the corner.

The television played. It was set to the show, Mr. Potty Head. A show for potty- training littles.

Her eyes widened, the inflated pink paci bobbing up and down in her mouth.

This was a no-no show. Wasn’t good for babies.

Babies like her went potty in diapees.

She would wait patiently, squishing around in her mess for Dada to change her. First there was the front pat to see how wet she was and then the two fingers down the back to check her messy bum.

She’d lay back, spread her legs, and wait patiently as her dada untapped the padding and ran the warm wipe across her princess parts before powdering and re-diapering her. Sometimes it was a double padding, sometimes triple.

He said it made her more cute, crawling around the house with her diapered bum wiggling in the air as she swayed unsteadily on her hands and knees.

Rarely was she clothed because it would make it too difficult for a quick change. She’d grown comfortable naked, learning to ignore her chubby stomach and thick thighs.

Now, she was being given a chance to grow up. To prove that she was a big girl- something she’d desperately wanted.

Why was she so afraid?

All she had to do was push. Her eyes squeezed shut, nose wrinkling as she attempted to loosen her bowels. To let loose a little dribble of pee.

C’mon Poppy! Be a big girl-

“Flower?”

Oh no.

Her eyes flashed open, the warm tones of the grey room flooding back.

The man with sandy colored hair, tan skin and sharp jaw peered down at her. His eyes, an ocean blue, narrowed.

He towered over her, already a foot taller and frowned.

The color drained from her face. She whimpered, “Dada!”

He sighed, shaking his head and arms crossed across his chest.

“It’s been ten minutes baby.”

She got lost in her mind. Again.

“Did someone make a present for Dada?”

Lying was what naughty girls did but telling the truth could get her spankies…

“Baby? I’m waiting for an answer.” His tone was short. Clipped.

If he heard the shakiness in her voice, he chose not to comment.

“I…” the words were numb on her tongue. “I no able to go pothy.”

Her head bowed, waiting for the stern rebuke.

But it never came.

“You did your best, Flower.” his voice was unusually soft with a hint of sincerity?

No. She couldn’t be hearing that right. Hesitantly, her head lifted up, surprised by the fact he’d squatted down to her height.

“It’s ok, Poppy. Dada isn’t mad.”

He’s not? She sunk down on the seat, her hand in his.

“You’re just a baby. Girls as little as you aren’t ready to use the potty. That’s ok though because we have diapers.”

Once again, tears welled up in her eyes and snot ran from her nose.

No, please! One more try. One more-

Her restrained arms shot out, reaching for him to pick her up.

“Dadaaa!” The wail of a baby echoed from her body.

Parker no! You’re bigger than this!

“Potty Scawy!”

Stop this nonsense! Do you really wanna spend the rest of your life in a diaper?

“I know, baby!” he cooed. “We’ll try again next year on your birthday. How about that, hmm? It seems someone wants to stay my little flower.”

Yes. She sighed in relief, suckling on the rubber object.

No, Parker, listen to me! Listen—

Maybe even next year the restraints will come off. She’s been a good girl. She has, she really has!

“Now let’s get you into a clean diaper. I bet that’ll feel good. Won’t it baby?” he asked gently.

The man didn’t wait for a response, helping her shift down to the ground were a changing mat was already laid out.

“Now Flower,” he began, fiddling with a few other things she couldn’t see. “Dada doesn’t want to do this but I want my favorite princess to have the best birthday.”

Oh no. Please God, not this-

“I know they are not your favorite people but Mr and Mrs. Bubbles wanted to wish you a happy birthday!” she could hear the smile in his voice, setting up the enema and suppositories.

“Afterward you can play in your jolly jumper, how about that?”

Well… that did sound pretty fun.

Sometimes it was best just to ignore the big girl voices in her mind because that wasn’t who she was anymore.

She was just a little baby.