Princess Potty Pants

“Once upon a time, there lived a little princess…”

Jackie glowered up at her captor, biting down hard on the plastic bulb of her pacifier gag to let out some of her frustration. She was nestled in the crook of his arm, snuggled up in his lap beneath her Hello Kitty sheets. Her wrists were tied together in front of her, locked inside a pair of fingerless mittens that rendered her hands utterly useless, and her ankles were bound with pink ribbon.

She was naked but for a stupid pink bonnet and a puffy disposable diaper – white, with a decal of rattles and blocks and teddy bears. At least, it had been white when she’d been changed into it earlier than afternoon, but she’d peed in it twice since then. Three large bottles of baby formula had to go somewhere, and over the last few days Jackie had learned that no amount of screaming behind her gag would make the lunatic who’d kidnapped her let her use the toilet.

Her captor smiled indulgently down at her, ignoring the look of hatred on her face. “She was the prettiest princess in all the land,” he continued gently, “and she was known far and wide for having the cutest little bum in all the kingdom!” He patted her padded tushy, and Jackie pulled a face in disgust as her pee-soaked diaper squished against her bare skin. “But the princess was also very naughty…” her kidnapper went on. “Even though it was dangerous for a precious little thing like her, she liked to go out to parties wearing the skimpiest of clothes, tight tops and short skirts that would make even a harlot blush, and shake her little bottom on the dance floor for everyone to see! Running around with her bottom out is the kind of behaviour you might expect from a toddler, a girl too little to have any modesty, not a woman in her twenties! But the princess was desperate to get people to stare at her bouncy booty.”

Intro to the Tinker Paci. Yes I paid a voice actor for this because I hate the sound of my own voice 🙈

As a finishing touch swap her underwear to nappys fully time. She can’t be trusted to go to the bathroom so why not just remove that choice to save her the effort, plus they work extra great to catch all the horny girl leaks and drips she makes from her constant denied aroused state. She can’t help it, she can’t form a coherent thought anymore. Naturally if your start dressing her like an oversized baby you might go the rest of the way too. Fill her wardrobe with the most effeminate girly pink outfits, dresses and onesies you can buy. Convert a spare room into a nursery for your oversized baby, feeds her in a high chair and make her drink out of a bottle, have a play pen or some form of safe area for her to enjoy some age appropriate activities, etc… Always increasing her denial further and further making the situation for her progressively “worse.”

This all stemmed from her addiction to denial. If she was a real women. A big girl, none of this would happen. But no she wanted to be pathetic, she wanted to be used, be owned. This was her own doing, this is what she asked for - she didn’t know what would start as some kinky bedroom fun would become such an out of control spirit. But now she can’t remember the last time she had an adult though? The last time she did anything for herself? The last time she wasn’t surrounded by pink girlie colours? The last time she woke up in a dry nappy? The last time there wasn’t a burning desolate ache between her legs?

everything is new to a baby. sights, sounds, textures.

the simplest things amaze and delight a baby. the feeling of its toys in its hands, the meaningless hum of grown-ups' voices around it, the soft headpats from its mommy.

you resisted, at first.

you might have enjoyed being treated like a baby, but you were still an adult in the end! your world was too complex, your brain too developed, your awareness too sharp to really engage with anything truly for babies and babies alone.

so you kept playing your big kid games, and watching your big kid shows, and using your big kid words.

you'd be her little one, but apart from the infantile accessories and playful teasing, you were much like any other adult.

mindfulness training, she called it. mommy just wanted to help you with your anxiety, so you could learn to recenter when things got too much.

when your mind started to race, you learned to focus on the moment.

the feeling of the ground under your feet.

the quiet nuknuk of your pacifier.

the gentle trickle of warmth into your diaper.

you'd get anxious a lot, so you put mommy's lessons to good use.

it happened more and more. you'd start getting stressed, and then focus on these comforting sensations until your worries floated away. you were becoming so much calmer, so much more content.

you had to keep asking mommy to pause your shows. it was hard to pay attention to the plot when the soft stuffie in your arms was the center of your attention. you'd have to calm down first, then resume.

after a while, you realized how long it would take you to finish just one episode. so long that you'd start forgetting what had happened before the pause, and you'd have to rewind, which would make it take even longer...

you complained about this to mommy, and she just nodded thoughtfully. maybe, she said, you just needed something a little easier to follow.

you reluctantly agreed that made sense.

so mommy helped.

when you needed to pause a show too much, she'd just stop it and change to something simpler.

when you got overwhelmed by your games, she'd hand you a toy of some kind and help you play.

when you got frustrated at how you stumbled over words trying to solidify your thoughts, she'd suggest something more straightforward to say.

and it kept happening. and it helped.

you don't get nearly so anxious anymore. having to stop and breathe still happens, like when you recognize one of the grown-ups' faces or when someone tries to show you something too complicated. but your world is so much quieter now.

the way the blocks feel in your hands.

the comforting hum of mommy's voice.

the way your diaper sags after you wet it.

these things take all your attention now. these are your world. these are the only ripples on the calm, empty pond of your mind.

babies are simple, and so are you.

I realised today that it’s been a 100 days since i last had an orgasm. 100 days since I was last allowed release. It seems impossible to think it’s been so long, and yet it also feels like a lifetime. When i really sit and think about it, it’s crazy to think that i’ve had so few orgasms in the past year, and even then non of them have happened in the last few months.

There’s something strange about a number like that. At first it feels impossible (although not quite as impossible as 2 years i’ve managed before), then dramatic, then eventually it becomes part of the rhythm of my body. You stop measuring it in weeks and start measuring it in behaviours instead. In the way my thoughts linger too long. In how quickly my breathing changes. In the ache that never fully leaves. In the squirming i don’t even realise I’m doing. In learning how to sit inside want without trying to escape it.

I have a constant ache that never leaves, sure i might be distracted from it for a little while, but it’s always there in the background, like my body is perpetually waiting and building up to something it’s not allowed to have. My wanting feels almost unbearable sometimes, especially the times Sir has edged me and just responds to my begging with “no”. The realising that no amount of aching or wanting or need changes the fact it isn’t my decision to make. It’s a potent feeling, it’s cruelty and kindness, it’s frustration and devotion, it’s obedience and pleasure and surrender.

100 days of wanting.

100 days of aching.

100 days of edging.

I squirm in discomfort, wiggling in my rolling chair, as I pretend to stare at the numbers on the screen in front of me.

My bladder, full to bursting, screams out to me in agony.

11:30 am.

It's only been two hours since I peed last, but, my body doesn't seem to care about that. All it seems to be worried about is relieving itself.

I turn my head, peeking towards the hallway where the office bathrooms are located. A shiver of unease works its way down my spin.

The fluorescent lights in the hallway flicker. A dark, malevolent figure appears in the darkness before the light becomes steady again.

I wince as a surge of pain, radiates through my body.

Sitting in the nurses office. Sniffling. Waiting.

Your shorts are in a plastic bag on the floor, stained.

Your bottom is protected only by a full leaky pull-up. You're trying not to move too much to avoid your mess squishing against you.

The Nurse lays out the thick babyish diaper that your parents packed 'just in case'.

The school had called your parents already, they were on their way to pick you up. You knew what was coming...

Sitting in the nurses office. Sniffling. Waiting.

Your shorts are in a plastic bag on the floor, stained.

Your bottom is protected only by a full leaky pull-up. You're trying not to move too much to avoid your mess squishing against you.

The Nurse lays out the thick babyish diaper that your parents packed 'just in case'.

The school had called your parents already, they were on their way to pick you up. You knew what was coming...

“Ow! Let me go! What are you doing?!”

Nora’s boyfriend dragged her by the ear inside their apartment. “What time do you call this, missy?” he asked sternly. “You were supposed to be back an hour ago!”

“Ouch! Stop!” Nora cried. “We just stayed out a bit longer than we planned! What’s the matter with you? Owie!” Her words were slightly slurred. She was still a little tipsy from all the gin and tonics she and her girlfriends had drank that afternoon.

“Then why didn’t you tell me? I was worried sick about you, baby!”

“Let go of my ear!” Nora squealed. “My phone died!”

Her boyfriend let go of her ear at last, but his nose twitched, and he frowned. “How much have you had to drink?” he demanded. He must have noticed the alcohol on her breath. “Did you drive home like this?”

Thinking of staging an accident in front of their friends... then realizing that that ship sailed long ago. Everyone knows they're in diapers anyway!

Wanting to do something about wetting the bed and being punished for ruining the mattress... but then remembering that their CG never takes off the ultra-thick plastic protector their nightly indiscretions earned years ago.

Thinking of filming a scene of them eating messily and being laughed at and given a bib for being such a baby... then recollecting that it's been over a year since they were even allowed to try feeding themselves.

Imagining a bit with their pull-ups being discovered and mocked during a sleepover... only to recall that their CG hasn't bought them anything thinner than daytime diapers in years.

Wanting to do a scene of them "accidentally" sucking their thumb in public... but then looking down at the giant pacifier clipped onto their clothes and realizing they've already slipped way past that.

Dreaming of embarrassing themselves by pissing themselves during sex... but then having to admit the closest thing to sex they get these days is humping their stuffies through their diaper while their CG cheers them on.

She checked her phone. It was 8:45. "Are you serious?"

"What, about bedtime? Of course. It's a very serious matter." He turned to head into their bedroom. "I'm going to grab your jammies. Can you be a big girl for me and brush your teeth by yourself?"

It looked like he was. For the past week, he'd just been making up an earlier and earlier "bedtimes" for her and waiting to see if she'd crack. "It's barely even dark out!" She protested, pointing out the window at the soft pink sky.

"We're not having this argument tonight." He stated. "I'm going to go get your jammies, and if your teeth aren't brushed when I come back out, we're going to have a conversation. Are we clear?"

"....whatever..." She mumbled.

"I love the enthusiasm," He quipped as he ducked into their bedroom. She wasn't a fan of early bedtimes, but she was even less a fan of corner time, so she, to her own chagrin, went and brushed her teeth. Midway through, he came into the bathroom to check up on her, her pajamas slung under his arm. He chose the frilly pink nightie with the big smiling unicorn on it. Barf.

He gave her a proud squeeze on the shoulder as she finished brushing her teeth. "Look at you, doing it all by yourself! Such a big girl." He praised her. "Okay, let's get your jammies on. Arms up, honey."

"I can get changed myself, too!" She shoved the nightie away as if it was radioactive. “And I am not putting that on.”

"I'm sure you can, dear," He said in the sort of tone you use on a child trying to tie their shoes on their own for the first time. "Can we put our arms up? Can you show me what a good listener you are?" He started trying to pull her sweater off, but she fussed and squirmed away.

"Honey, can you please-"

"No, I am not going to just-"

"Just hold still, and-"

"You're treating me like a child, and-"

"Excuse me!" He suddenly raised his voice. "You had better start behaving yourself right now, or you are not going to like what comes next." That got her stock still. She obediently raised her arms up. "Whatever..." She murmured.

"Thank you," He said, and pulled her sweater up and over her shoulders. "See how much easier things are when we work together? It doesn't all have to be tantrums and fussing." He praised as he finished undressing her."

"I wasn't having a tantrum..." She mumbled, discontentedly crossing her arms in front of her chest to retain a hint of modesty. "Of course you weren't. Step in, honey." He extended a pair of pull-ups in front of her. She blanched. "You said I didn't have to wear these earlier!" Despite her protests, she still stepped through the leg holes.

"I said you didn't have to wear them during the day," He clarified as he pulled the garment up her legs. She barely had time to register the soft, puffy feeling before he pulled the pink nightie over her head. "But we still don't want to take any chances with little night-time accidents, do we?"

Her face flushed with indignation as he took her hand and started leading her towards the bedroom. As much as she didn't want to admit it, she wasn't entirely confident in staying dry the whole night. She wanted to sulkily stare down at the ground, but doing so just led her to make eye contact with the smiling unicorn on the front of the nightie. She decided to give voice to her discontentment. "This whole production is ridiculous," She proclaimed.

"I know, honey."

"I'm a grown woman. I don't need you to do this!"

"Sure you are, sweetheart,"

"Are you even listening to me!?"

He turned back to her with a warm, tired smile. "Of course I am, honey. I always do," He assured her. "And I love that you have such an active imagination. But we have this same conversation every night, and if we don't get you to bed soon, you're going to be all over-tired and cranky tomorrow. We can play pretend in the morning, alright?"

"Oh my god!" She groaned. "I'm not...you're so...ugh, whatever!" She kept following him, but stomped her feet as she walked in an act of daring civil disobedience. When they reached their room, he crouched and switched on a small nightlight. "I don't need that," She grumbled as he stood back up.

"Oh? My mistake. I'll turn it off," He went to crouch back down, but she grabbed his arm. "No, it's fine. Uh...you can just leave it."

"Ah. Well, that's very kind of you, saving me the trip down." He said, before scooping her up and planting her on his hip. "Hey! Put me down!" She fussed. He, obviously, didn't listen. Instead, he carried her over to the bed, pulled back the covers, and softly laid her down. Her protests became slightly more muted as he pulled up the covers, settling them around her chin, and softly ruffled her hair. "Alright, love. Sweet dreams. See you tomorrow. Call me if you need anything, alright?"

She grabbed onto his hand as he tried to pull away. "Wait..." She said, in a much quieter, less strident voice than before. "You promised we could read a bit if I was good today."

"I do remember that. But there was another condition. Do you remember what it was?"

"Umm...hmmm..." She squirmed a little bit.

"You promised you would be good, and you wouldn't give me any fuss about bedtime. Did you keep your promise?"

"Well...I didn't fuss a lot...and I had a really long day at work..."

He gave her a look that plainly said that he wasn't convinced.

"Come on, please? Only five minutes? I'll be really good tomorrow, I promise." She extended a pinkie to show how serious she was.

He thought for a moment, before completing the pinkie swear. "Alright, move over." She fought to keep the grin off her face as she sidled over to make room for him. He slid beneath the covers, and she flopped onto his chest, nestling her head in the crook of his neck. "I think I indulge you much more than I should," He said as he picked up the book from their bedside table. "We're going to have a conversation about your behaviour tomorrow,"

"Mmmhmm..." She sleepily agreed as he cracked the book open. After much more than five minutes of reading, he set the book onto the bedside table and went to get up. Her tranquil, half-asleep face twitched into a soft frown as she tightened her arms around his neck. "Nooo..." She quietly protested.

"No? No, what?" He asked.

"You...you hafta stay." She whined.

"Oh, I do? When was that passed into law?"

He was teasing her again. She managed to wrench her eyes open and give him a look. "You...mmm..." She was interrupted by a pressing yawn. "You hafta stay until I fall asleep. It's the rules."

"Oh, the rules. How could I forget?" He ran a hand through her hair. "I think my big girl just wants a little extra attention. Maybe she's not as big as she thought,"

"Am too!" She complained. "Just...just stay a little more."

"Alright. But you're going to be on your best behaviour tomorrow, agreed?"

But, sweetie, I think it's about time you give that up.

I mean, look at yourself, squatting there in your cute little onesie, diaper drooping nearly to your knees!

Have you ever seen anything so precious in your life?

If you weren't meant to be just like this, my adorable diapered pet, why would the universe make you this irresistible?

Now, stop your whimpering, the smell isn't that bad.