Mellow Sadistic

This time his hand found a bit of her bum-cheek uncovered by her diaper and he gave her bottom a quick, hard pinch. Jackie squealed and wiggled vainly in his lap. She did her best to pour all her loathing into the look she gave him, but her captor just chuckled and pulled her body close. Jackie’s face reddened with more than anger when her bare nipples brushed against the material of his dress shirt, and, unbidden, she felt a tingle in her pussy.

“The princess was in danger of being stolen away by one of the nasty men leering at her bum-bum,” said the kidnapper, “but luckily a good wizard found her first. He knew that even though the princess thought she was a grown-up, really she was just a silly little girl who needed to be rescued – so he slipped a special potion into her drink that quickly sent her off to dreamland, and he snatched her up and took her away to a nice, safe tower before anyone could get to her!”

Jackie could only seethe silently as her kidnapper bent down and planted a loving kiss on her forehead.

“He threw away her silly big girl clothes and got her dressed much more appropriately. The good wizard was very kind. He put the princess in pull-ups, just in case she had an accident, and he gave her a cute, pink potty to pee in. But the princess was in a very grumpy mood when she woke up. She kicked over her potty, then she ripped off her pull-ups and peed all over the carpet instead! What a naughty little girl! She hadn’t agreed to be rescued, she said, and if the wizard didn’t let her go at once, she promised to call the guards.”

Jackie felt her bottom being patted again. She stared off into space, trying to ignore her captor, but he cupped a hand to her cheek and tilted her head to look at him. “Wasn’t the princess silly?” he asked, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “She was far away from any guards, and the wizard was hardly going to give her any opportunity to call them. What a silly princess!” He jostled her in his arms, and once again Jackie felt her tits rubbing against his chest. She cringed as her pussy wettened inside her pissy-wet pants.

“The good wizard understood that she was a bit scared by everything that had happened,” said the kidnapper, “and he knew she was still getting used to her new life – he’d decided it was best if she never returned to the scary grown-up kingdom, and spent the rest of her days playing silly, innocent games in the tower instead. But still, he didn’t let naughty little carpet-tinklers go unpunished, even if they were pretty princesses… He pulled her over his knee and spanked her misbehaving bottom until it was as red as a tomato! The princess tried her best not to give in, but it didn’t take long until she was bawling like a real baby over his lap and promising to put her pull-ups back on like a good little girl. But the wizard said no. The silly princess had proved she was too little for potties. She’d lost her chance to be a big girl, and that meant she was going all the way back to nappies. The princess threw another tantrum when the good wizard showed her what her new forever-underwear would be, but her second spanking didn’t last nearly as long as her first, and soon she was tearfully promising the wizard that she’d never go potty outside of her pants again for as long as she lived. The wizard knew it wasn’t a promise she meant to keep, but he was going to hold her to it all the same.”

Jackie’s stomach rolled at the thought. That wasn’t going to happen, she told herself. Her sopping wet diaper felt heavy and gross between her legs. She was going to be rescued. The police would come. Somebody. Anybody. Any day now.

“Deep down, the princess was a very sweet little girl. The good wizard was sure of it. But she had a bit of an attitude problem. She would always shout and throw tantrums and say the naughtiest of words, and the wizard had to put a magic dummy in her mouth to keep her quiet!” He tapped Jackie’s pacifier gag and smiled down at her. “Now the princess spends all day sucking on it like a silly baby, and she couldn’t be happier!”

The kidnapper’s fingers fiddled absent-mindedly with the leak guards of Jackie’s adult Pampers as he spoke. Then, without warning, he slipped a finger inside, probing the sodden padding in her pants. Jackie felt the back of his finger brush lightly against her sex, and she bit down hard on her paci to stop herself from moaning. It wasn’t enough. A soft, ridiculous little grunt of pleasure escaped her lips. The sound was muffled by her soother, but not muffled enough to stop her captor noticing.

He grinned. “Silly little thing,” he crooned, running his finger back and forth over her tingling pussy and making her moan again. Jackie hadn’t been able to touch herself since she’d been taken, and no matter how much she hated the man who’d done this to her, the psycho who was intent on keeping her locked up in an oversized nursery forever, she couldn’t stop her traitorous pussy responding to his touch. Her eyes rolled back in pleasure as the kidnapper’s fingers caressed between her legs, and she bucked her hips instinctively. But then the feeling was gone, his hand had moved away from her diaper, and Jackie couldn’t stop the look of desperate need passing across on her face.

“Daddy was just checking your nappy, sweetie,” her captor said lightly. A smirk was playing around his mouth. “I know you were hoping for a little naughty playtime, darling, but those days are over for you. Baby needs to learn chastity, yes she does! She needs to learn that she’ll never have one of her naughty little grown-up orgasms ever again!”

Jackie screamed behind her pacifier and started writhing in place as hard as she could, but the kidnapper lifted her effortlessly off his lap and got to his feet. He quickly secured her bonds to the bed, leaving her arms and legs spread starfish-like beneath her sheets.

“You’ve got quite a soggy nappy, little one,” he said, “but since you haven’t made a messy yet, I’m afraid you’ll have to wait until morning for a change.”

“Nnnnnngggghhhh!” Jackie screamed behind her soother. She was fighting furiously against her restraints, but she couldn’t move more than an inch; all she could do was wiggle pathetically in her soaking wet diaper.

Lydia looked down at the ground, gritting her teeth. She hated everything about this. She’d only wanted a little extra money to help pay for nights out at university! But there were no college parties in her future now. Even if she hadn’t been kicked out, there was no way her Mum would let her do something as grown-up as go out drinking, not now she had full authority over her again. For the next three years, in the eyes of the law she was nothing but a helpless child. There was only one silver lining – the white cotton undies that hugged her bottom under her skirt.

When the judge had told her she was forbidden to use the toilet for pee, and was to poo in it only, Lydia had felt like she was going to be sick. It was bad enough having her toileting habits discussed out loud for the whole courtroom to hear, but the thought of having to spend the next three years of her life wearing oversized Pampers, filling them with pee multiple times a day, taking them off only to go number two before having them strapped right back onto her bum, was enough to turn her stomach. If her Mum hadn’t whispered in her ear that she wouldn’t be making her wear nappies, Lydia thought she would have fainted in front of the judge. She supposed she ought to be grateful to her mother for that, even though it was suspiciously out of character… She wouldn’t have expected her Mum to go against the law, even though there was hardly any chance of being caught.

Finally, they made it home. Lydia was relieved to be out of the public spotlight, and more urgently, she needed to pee. She’d needed to go all morning, but she knew the staff at the courtroom would have just offered her a diaper if she’d asked for the bathroom there. She tried to make a bee-line for the toilet, but her mothed pulled her back, her grip tightening.

“Where are you off to, sweetie?”

“The toilet,” Lydia replied, trying to pull away again. “I need to pee.”

“Silly girl!” her Mum laughed. “The judge said you’re not allowed to use the toilet for pee-pee, remember?”

“B-but…” Lydia spluttered. She felt like she’d been kicked in the stomach. “But you said I wouldn’t have to wear nappies!”

“That’s right, sweetie,” her Mum nodded. “No nappies for my little girl. The judge didn’t say you had to wear them, after all. He just said you’re not allowed to use the potty when you need a wee.”

“But that doesn’t make any sense!” Lydia said, huffing with frustration. “What do you expect me to do? Am I supposed to just pee my pants whenever I need to go or somethi-”

“That’s right, baby!” her Mum interrupted, smiling brightly. “Clever girl!”

Lydia stared at her mother with mounting horror. Was her Mum really suggesting she spend the next three years wetting her knickers without any protection? “But… but I can’t just…” She didn’t even know what to say. How could her Mum not see how insane this was?! “I’ll make a mess everywhere!”

“Uh-hu,” her Mum agreed, nodding, “but that’s okay. You were always making puddles for Mummy to clean up when you were little, and it’ll be no different this time.” She looked positively thrilled by the idea. “I’ll have to get used to washing your wet pants again!” she added, beaming. “Not to mention ironing your tights and skirts. Oh, and hanging your sheets out to dry after you wet the bed!”

Lydia was looking at her mother like she’d lost her mind. This was worse than being in nappies! There was a determined, almost hungry expression in her Mum’s eyes. She was clearly delighted by the prospect of having a twenty-one-year-old pantswetter for a daughter. Her wayward little girl back home, dependent on her Mummy once again.

“But I have to pee like four times a day!” Lydia whined, trying to get her mother to understand how awful it would be, how often she’d need to be cleaned up.

“Then you’ll wet your pants four times a day, little missy,” her Mum said, simply.

“Mum, please…” Lydia begged. She was clutching between her legs with her free hand. The need to pee was growing stronger by the second, but the thought of just letting go in her pants was disgusting.

“Mummy said no, sweetie,” said her mother, sounding a little more stern. “No more toilets for you, young lady.”

“Please just… just let me wear nappies then!” Lydia cried, her face scarlet. She was bouncing from foot to foot now, doing an absurd potty dance. “I’d rather wear nappies if the alternative is peeing all over myself! At least it’s more private!”

“I’ve made up my mind, baby,” her Mum said firmly. “As much as I’m sure nappies would fix your behaviour, I think being a big girl who always wets her knickers will put you in your place even better!”

“No!” Lydia squealed, and then she let out a gasp. Her potty dance stopped abruptly, and she pulled her hand away as a dark, wet patch blossomed on the front of her skirt. A stream of pee trickled down between her legs, puddling on the floor between her feet. More pee ran down her legs, soaking her tights and pooling into her shoes. “Ewww!” Lydia cried, tears spilling from her eyes as she soaked her white cotton undies. “Ew! Ew! Ew!”

Her Mum was watching with a wide smile. “Mummy’s little pantswetter,” she declared affectionately, stroking her daughter’s hair. “Did you have an accident, sweetie? Do you need Mummy to clean you up?”

Lydia burst into tears and nodded her head.

“You can still walk,” her boyfriend said. “Your pretty face wasn’t injured.” He stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers. “You got lucky, honey-bee. An injury to your spine like that could have done a lot more than take away your bladder and bowel control. Feeling a bit like a baby is a small price to pay for your life.”

Melissa pushed his hand away. She knew he was just trying to make her feel better, but it wasn’t working. “Easy for you to say,” she said, more harshly than she’d intended. “You’re not the one who has to wear diapers.” Her thick Pampers crinkled noisily under her jeans as she shifted. Even her baggiest clothes couldn’t quite hide the bulge around her waist. She’d tried using thinner, more discreet ‘protective underwear’ at first, but it had quickly become clear that they weren’t up to the challenge of containing all her accidents. Eventually, after leaking on the sofa and the bed and leaving dozens of little puddles on the floor, her boyfriend had insisted on getting her thicker ones, heavy-duty diapers that she had to tape on instead of pulling up her legs. He insisted they weren’t the largest size available, but they felt enormous to her. The padding between her thighs had to be three inches thick, and the bulk made it impossible to close her legs. She could never forget they were there, an ever-present reminder of her new status as a grown woman who couldn’t control when she peed or pooped. Even as she spoke, her bladder helplessly released a small stream of pee into her pants. Melissa turned even redder than she had been already, and she stomped her foot. “I hate this!” she cried again, cringing at the feel of her soggy underwear.

“Here,” said her boyfriend, taking his phone out of his pocket. He had an odd expression on his face, slightly hesitant, but as if he were steeling himself to do something. “I want you to have a look at this, okay baby?” He held up his phone to her face, and for a few seconds Melissa just stared, confused, at the swirling colours on the screen. What was this supposed to be? Then something seemed to clunk into place in her head, and she felt as though she were falling inside the spiralling lights. Her mouth slowly fell open, and a line of drool ran down her chin.

“I can’t reverse your incontinence, my love,” her boyfriend was saying, stroking her hair, “but I can make it so you’re not bothered by it.” He kissed her cheek. “I promise this is for the best. You’re going to be a happy, bubbly girl again in no time!”

One Week Later

Melissa, or little Missy as she now preferred to be called, stomped into the living room with a broad smile on her face. Below the waist she wore only her thick, white diaper, and above it she wore a tight, pale blue top with the words “Daddy’s Little Stinker” written across it in big, bold letters. She spotted her boyfriend sitting on the sofa, and hurried over to him, but she’d only gone a few paces when she stopped in her tracks. There was a rumbling noise from her belly. Her mouth formed into a perfect ‘o’ of surprise as she farted loudly. Then her knees bent, seemingly by instinct, and her face screwed up in concentration.

“What are you doing, baby?” her boyfriend asked lightly, suppressing a laugh as he got to his feet and walked over, watching the seat of his girlfriend’s nappy start to bulge out, just as the front darkened and yellowed.

Missy grunted loudly and grinned up at him. “Doing a big poo, Daddy!” she announced shamelessly.

Her boyfriend gasped theatrically. “In your pants, little Missy?!” he exclaimed in mock surprise. “But you’re twenty-seven years old! You’re way too old to be going poo-poo in your pants, aren’t you? Can’t you use the toilet?”

Missy put her hands to her mouth and chortled through her fingers like a little girl. She shook her head, her eyes sparkling with pleasure at the attention she was getting. She grunted again and her nappy drooped a little more. She pointed between her legs. “Gotta diapee, Daddy!”

“I see that, sweetie. But aren’t those for babies?”

“Uh-hu!” Missy chirped. “I can’t control when I go potty, so that makes me a baby!” With one last pouty-lipped, scrunchy-faced look of concentration, she finishing messing herself and straightened up, beaming. Her boyfriend-turned-Daddy held out his arms for a hug, and the infantilized, mind-addled woman toddled eagerly into his embrace. “I love you, Daddy!” she said.

“I love you too, baby girl,” her boyfriend cooed, cuddling her tightly. He didn’t mind the yucky potty smell that reached his nose. It was worth it to have his girlfriend happy again. He reached down and patted the seat of her sagging nappy, eliciting a delighted squeal.

“Yucky Daddy!” Missy giggled. “That’s yucky!”

“Do you want a change, sweet girl? Daddy will get you all clean again.”

“No!” Missy whined. “I wanna play!”

“Are you sure, baby? Janet’s arriving to take you to the park in about fifteen minutes, remember? If we don’t get you cleaned up now, she’s going to see you get your messy nappy changed here on the floor. Doesn’t that bother you?”

They broke apart, and Missy chortled mischievously behind her hands again, shaking her head.

Her boyfriend laughed. “No, I guess it doesn’t,” he said, smiling indulgently. “You don’t mind if everyone thinks you’re a big baby, do you little Missy?” He reached out to cup the front of his girlfriend’s nappy with his hand. He could feel the warm, heavy wee-wee within. He gave it a little rub, and Missy let out a soft cooing noise. “In fact,” her boyfriend went on, smirking, “I think you like it, don’t you?”

Missy’s eyes rolled back in pleasure and she nodded. It made her feel all tingly. People still pointed at her when she went out in public, but she enjoyed the attention now, and when they laughed at the sight of her diapers bulging under her jeans out peeking out from beneath her skirt, it made her giggle too. She didn’t blame them. She knew she looked super silly in her massive Pampers. But there was nothing wrong with being silly. Being silly was fun!

“Alright, little Missy,” her boyfriend said, rubbing the front of her soggy pants harder. “Daddy will give you a little playtime, okay? Then when Janet arrives we’ll change your full nappy right here on the floor. Maybe she’ll even help me wipe your mucky bottom!” Missy moaned and started thrusting her crotch against his hand. “You know how glad she is to have her bubbly best friend back,” her boyfriend continued, “even if it does mean dealing with your messy bum. And Emily will be round to babysit tomorrow. She’s got all sorts of silly games planned.” Missy gurgled happily and humped his hand harder. “So you don’t have to worry about a thing, little one.” He kissed her on the top of her head. “Daddy’s going to make sure that losing your potty training was the best thing that ever happened to you!”

Naomi gurgled happily.

“You couldn’t use your potty?” he teased, bouncing her a little in his arms.

Naomi giggled and shook her head, sending her dark pigtails flapping around her face. “Need nappy!” she declared, proudly.

Isaac chuckled and held her tightly. She was a bit stinky, but it didn’t bother him. Her warm, nearly naked body felt delightful snuggled up against him. “Miss Brenda says you’re the best cuddler in your class,” he said, tapping her on the nose. “Always running up to give her big hugs!”

“Wuv cuddles,” said Naomi, nodding seriously.

Isaac laughed and held her closer to him so she could rest her head on his shoulder and slip her thumb into her mouth.

“Daddy loves cuddles too,” said Isaac. “And Daddy loves you, baby girl.”

“Wuv Dada!” Naomi prattled around her thumb.

Isaac rocked her gently in his arms, utterly content. Naomi’s sense of shame and modesty was gone forever, along with all her adult thoughts. It wasn’t easy taking care of a twenty-something-year-old toddler; she threw tantrums and made a mess with her food, and he swore her diapers always needed changing when he checked – although Naomi didn’t care one bit for the state of her Pampers, and was perfectly content to waddle around in full pants all day if he let her. But he knew he’d made the best decision of his life giving her a booster for the virus. She fit in so much better at her daycare now. She was thrilled to wear whatever clothes he dressed her in, and if he decided to put her in nothing but her nappy, or even nothing at all, then she was thrilled about that too.

He stroked Naomi’s back softly with his fingers, feeling blessed. He’d noticed a new girl had been brought to HappyDays Daycare recently, seen the way the snooty young woman had argued with her boyfriend and Miss Brenda as she was dropped off, pointing at Naomi and declaring that she didn’t belong with a bunch of “drooling, diaper-filling rugrats like her”. Like Naomi had once done, back when she could still talk in full sentences, she’d complained about how she “barely had any symptoms at all”, and even suggested that sending women with all their mental faculties to daycare was “part of some big conspiracy to infantilise women”. But he’d been happy to have a word with the woman’s boyfriend afterwards, and point him in the direction of an excellent hospital where certain members of the staff might just be happy to pass him a very special syringe under the table. Isaac smiled to himself, thinking that Naomi might well be having the woman round for a playdate in the not-so-distant future, and her angry, arrogant face would be blissfully blank as she lay down next to Naomi and he changed their nappies side by side. Just another Baby Fever girl.

“It’s perfectly fair, little girl,” said Miss Brenda, sternly. “I explained the rules to you. All the girls in the baby class get treated just the same. It’s you who wanted special treatment, missy!”

“I’m very sorry for the way she behaved,” said Isaac, sounding a little embarrassed.

“There’s no need to be sorry!” Miss Brenda said quickly. “I’m sure it’s not your caregiver skills that are the problem. It’s early days for her after all, and it’s only natural that she’s a bit grumpy about her new life. But we’ll probably be keeping little Naomi in the baby class from now on, so if I might make a suggestion, I’d recommend keeping her in nappies full time going forward. It will help her learn her place.”

Isaac nodded. “I was just thinking of taking away her potty privileges. She hardly ever makes it to the toilet at home anyway, and judging by her behaviour today, it looks like she could do with being taken down a peg or two.”

“No!” Naomi squealed.

“I’d better get little miss stinky pants home,” Isaac said, smiling at Miss Brenda. “I think I sense a tantrum coming on.”

Miss Brenda chuckled and waved them off, and as they walked through the daycare’s doors, they could hear her start talking to another man. “Hello, Peter! Your wife and daughter were a pair of sweet little princesses today, as usual. They’re always such a delight!”

They stepped outside and Isaac led Naomi down the path, towards the car. “Daddy is very disappointed in your behaviour today, little one,” he said, crossly.

“They made me go in the baby class!” Naomi complained.

“And from the sounds of things, you acted like that was exactly where you belonged,” said Isaac. “If you want people to treat you like a grown-up, Naomi, then don’t behave like you’re in your terrible twos.”

Naomi reddened, but said nothing as Isaac helped her into the back of the car, where an oversized car seat was waiting for her. She was just positioned over it when she suddenly realised something. “Wait!” she said. “I can’t sit down! I… I’ve got a… It will get…” She looked at her boyfriend imploringly.

“I know baby,” said Isaac. “You’ve pooped your pants. But you have to sit down, sweetheart. Daddy will change your nappy when we get home, okay?”

Naomi let out a soft whine that turned into a cry of revulsion as Isaac forced her down into the seat. The disgusting mess in her diaper was smushed against her bottom, and she could feel the heavy, pee-soaked padding pressed up against her pussy. “Ewww!”

“You’d better get used to it, Naomi,” Isaac said as he buckled her in. “You’ll be wearing your night-time nappies during the day from now on, just like Miss Brenda suggested.”

Naomi whimpered as Isaac shut the door and went around to the driver’s seat. She felt tears welling up in her eyes. She banged her fists angrily against the soft armrests of her car seat. She hated the way Miss Brenda had driven her to tears, first during her spanking and then again when she’d been forced to mess herself. Sobbing and sniffling made her feel like such a baby, and she knew everyone around her would just see it as a sign of a regressed mind. But how could she not cry in this situation?! It wasn’t fair! They treated her like a toddler, then accused her of acting like one just because she complained about it!

The drive home wasn’t long, at least, so Naomi didn’t have to spend too much time sitting in her own mess, but every swerve and bump in the road made her hyper conscious of the ickiness in her underwear, and by the time they’d pulled up by their house, she was desperate for a change.

“Daddy…” she mumbled, knowing it would butter him up, “Please can I have a nappy change? This thing is so gross…”

“Yes you can, baby,” Isaac said kindly, walking her up to the front door. “Daddy will change you right away, okay? Let’s just get inside.”

Naomi looked around anxiously to see if anyone was looking at her. She tugged on the hem of her Daddy’s Girl shirt, trying fruitlessly to pull it down low enough to cover some part of the enormous disposable diaper that bulged out from beneath her transparent tights.

Isaac unlocked the front door and she hurried inside, the thickness of her nappy causing her to toddle awkwardly. Even when not swollen from wee-wee, the padding between her legs was enough to stop her touching her thighs together; full as it was, she was forced to waddle along like she was just learning to walk.

“Okay precious girl,” Isaac cooed, “let’s get that yucky-wucky nappy off your cute little bum-bum, shall we? Off to the bedroom!”

With an unnecessarily firm pat on her Pampered rump, Isaac sent her on her way. He followed close behind, and Naomi was uncomfortably aware of his eyes on her bottom. Before all of this began, that might have made her wet – but with a loaded nappy strapped to her butt, it only sent a rush of shame to her cheeks. She reached their bedroom, went inside, and stood obediently in the middle of the room while Isaac prepared the changing supplies. He prepared the powder, and the baby wipes, and lay her changing mat down on top of the bedsheets.

Next, he turned to her. “Let’s get those tights off, baby,” he said happily, kneeling down, slipping his fingers into their waistband, and tugging them down to her knees. Without their support, her diaper sagged dangerously low between her thighs. “What a little stinker!” Isaac teased, pinching his nose as his girlfriend’s nappy drooped heavily before his eyes, straining at the tapes.

Naomi covered her face with her hands, doing her best not to burst into tears again. She felt like her womanhood had been stripped away. In place of the dignified, independent young woman she’d been, there was just an overgrown little girl, still in diapers, still dependent on her Daddy, about to get her messy bottom wiped for her. Tears began to spill down her cheeks.

Isaac moved her over to the bed and helped her to lay down on the changing mat. “There you go, baby,” he said, lovingly. “That’s a good girl. Daddy will get you clean and dry again, okay my darling? We’ll get rid of this stinky thing and have you in a nice, fresh nappy in no time.”

Naomi kept her face covered. She couldn’t bring herself to look. She couldn’t stand the thought of seeing what she’d done in her diaper.

Isaac undone the tapes with a snap, and pulled down the front of her adult-sized Pampers. “P-U! What a messy baby!” he cooed, lifting her legs into the air by her ankles and exposing her bottom. “Daddy’s really got his work cut out for him!”

Naomi tried to pretend she couldn’t hear, tried to pretend she was anywhere else but lying on her back on a changing mat, getting her full nappy changed by her boyfriend. She tensed a little when she felt the cool baby wipe pass across her buttocks.

“I know it’s a little cold, my love,” said Isaac, “but it will get you all squeaky clean.” He worked away at her mucky bum for a while, pausing to croon at her and run his fingers lightly across her belly in an attempt to tease out a giggle. But Naomi was too humiliated and broken to laugh.

“Daddy just wants you to be happy, baby,” said Isaac. His voice sounded a little strange. He’d finished wiping her clean, and her disgusting nappy had been removed from underneath her and rolled up to be tossed in her diaper pail, but he held her by the ankles and lifted her legs into the air once again. Naomi prepared herself for the dusting of baby powder, but it didn’t come. Instead, she felt a painful pinch on her left bum cheek.

“Ow!” she cried, removing her hands from her face and staring up at her boyfriend accusingly. “What was…” Her voice died uncertainly in her throat as she saw Isaac putting aside a large hypodermic needle. She felt her heart drop into her stomach. What had he just injected her with?

“I promise you’ll be much better off like this, Naomi,” said Isaac.

“What was that, Isaac?” Naomi whispered.

“The virus,” he said. “Or at least, it’s something that will mimic the symptoms of the virus. Just a much stronger form than the kind you have.”

Naomi tried to speak, but she couldn’t get any words to pass her lips. She could only stare at her boyfriend in horror. There was a tingling in her head, a pressure growing in the back of her mind.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said, “but this is for the best. You know how unhappy you were today. Having everyone treat you like a baby must be so hard when you’ve still got your adult mind. But this way you’ll be Daddy’s girl where it counts.” He tapped the side of his head. “And I promise you’ll absolutely love your daycare.”

Naomi scowled. This was exactly what she’d been afraid of. A bunch of dumb daycare staff, lucky enough to be immune from the virus, cooing over her like she was an actual toddler. “I’m a grown woman,” she said firmly. “I might have the virus, but I don’t appreciate being talked down to like a child. For you information, I haven’t undergone any mental regression whatsoever, and-”

“Naomi’s a little embarrassed about her condition,” Isaac explained, cutting in apologetically. “She hasn’t experienced much mental regression and she’s a bit grumpy about the idea of going back to daycare.”

“Not to worry,” said Miss Brenda, her eyes crinkled with amusement, “we’ve got plenty of experience dealing with fussy girls who want to pretend they’re still grown-ups. We’ll keep her in line. Is it alright if we spank her?”

“Yes, that’s fine,” Isaac said casually. “I imagine it will be necessary. Naomi can be quite naughty sometimes.”

“What?!” Naomi squealed, looking from Miss Brenda to her boyfriend in shock. They both ignored her.

“That’s good,” said Miss Brenda. “We find that a red bottom is by far the easiest way to teach a misbehaving young lady her place. We have other methods, of course, but a spanking is usually the quickest. I see she’s wearing pull-ups. Can she use a potty?”

“She still uses the toilet at home most of the time, but she wets the bed every night, so I’m sure she’d pee during any naps, and she does have accidents in her special undies on occasion.”

“I see,” said Miss Brenda. “We have a one-strike policy when it comes to accidents at HappyDays. We’ll start Naomi off in the big girl’s class, I think, since she’s so insistent on being treated like a grown-up, but we’ll move her down to the baby class if she proves she can’t make it to her training potty on time.”

“That sounds excellent,” Isaac said happily. “I can see she’s in good hands.”

“Hold on a second!” Naomi whined. Her face was burning. She was uncomfortably aware that her just-in-case pants were still a bit wet from earlier, and she didn’t like the sound of this one-strike policy at all. “You can’t just talk about me like I’m not here! It’s not fair! It-”

“Hush, baby!” Isaac scolded. “The grown-ups are talking.” Naomi spluttered indignantly, but once again, she was ignored. Isaac turned back to Miss Brenda. “I’d better be off,” he said. He slipped an arm around his girlfriend’s waist and pulled her close to him, planting a big kiss on the top of her head. “Be good for Miss Brenda,” he told her. “Daddy will come and pick you up at the end of the day, okay?” With an extra kiss on her cheek and a firm pat on her padded rear, he turned and left the building.

Naomi stared after him in shock, feeling a strange ache in her chest at the sight of him walking away, leaving her here with this strange woman. But she was distracted a moment later, when Miss Brenda shoved her hand down the back of her tights and groped her bum through her padded pants.

“What are you doing!?” Naomi squealed, spinning around to face the woman.

“Just checking your pull-ups, princess,” said Miss Brenda sweetly, and before Naomi could react, she’d thrust her hand down the front of her tights this time, slipping a finger invasively into her training pants. Naomi froze.

“Oh dear, Naomi…” said Miss Brenda, sounding disappointed. “An accident already? You heard what I said about our one-strike policy, didn’t you?”

“N-no!” Naomi spluttered. “This doesn’t count! That was earlier today, before we even arrived!”

Miss Brenda sighed and shook her head. “Looks like it’s the baby class for you, little one.”

“No!”

“Yes, little missy,” the woman said, taking her by the hand. “Come along now. Let’s swap those yucky wet pull-ups for a nice, clean nappy, okay?”

“It was just an accident!” Naomi said, feeling utterly ridiculous. “I don’t need nappies! Please, I don’t need the baby class! I’ve still got my adult mind! I should at least be with other people who aren’t fully regressed!”

“Our class divisions are made on the basis of potty training level, not mental age,” said Miss Brenda, leading her deeper inside the building. “Not all of our staff sign up to change a grown woman’s messy nappies, so that’s the way we split the groups.”

Naomi screwed up her face in disgust. “I don’t do that in my pants!” she cried, revolted.

Miss Brenda said nothing. She took her through a set of large double doors and into the room beyond. It smelled of peanut butter sandwiches, baby powder, and pee. Naomi gaped at the sight of a dozen fully grown women, ranging everywhere from their early twenties to their mid-forties, all dressed up like babies and toddler, either waddling about clutching dolls, or crawling around on the floor playing with blocks and shaking rattles, pacifiers bobbing between their lips. Although their outfits all varied, there was one thing they had in common – each and every one of them was wearing a thick disposable diaper. They peeked out from under skirts, or stuck out above waistbands. Some were bulging beneath onesies and overalls, but there was no mistaking what any of them wore in place of panties.

Miss Brenda gave her bum a swat. “Don’t dawdle, sweetie. Let’s get you up on the table! I know a cute little botty that needs a nappy on!”

Naomi felt too dazed to resist as she was helped up onto the adult-sized changing table that stood in the middle of the room. Her anger and indignation were gradually giving way to a mounting horror at her situation. She’d be coming here every weekday for who knew how long. What if they never found a cure? What if they never relaxed the restrictions they’d placed on virus victims? What if she’d be stuck being treated like a stupid toddler forever?

Miss Brenda tugged down her tights, taking her pull-ups with them. She examined the slightly soggy inside and tutted. Then she got to work sprinkling baby powder on her privates and rubbing it in. “We don’t want you getting a rash, do we baby?” she cooed, making Naomi cover her face in shame. “No we don’t!” She dusted powder over Naomi’s bottom next, patting it firmly into her wobbling bum cheeks. “No nappy rash for the happy girls at HappyDays daycare!”

Just as the woman was slipping a bulky, crinkly disposable nappy under her bum, Naomi felt the sudden need to pee. The urge arose without warning. A few seconds ago she’d had no idea she needed to go, and now she was totally desperate for the toilet. She tensed on the changing table. Even if Miss Brenda let her, she knew there was no way she could make it to the bathroom in time.

“Um… Miss Brenda…” she said feebly, taking her hands away from her face, intending to warn the woman. But it was too late. She lost control of her bladder, and, in the middle of her diaper change, an arc of pee-pee streamed from her pussy.

“Oopsie!” Miss Brenda sang, expertly pulling up the front of Naomi’s nappy in time to catch the sudden jet of pee before it could hit her blouse. “Uh-oh!” she chuckled. “Looks like I’ll have to warn the rest of the staff that you’re a nappy change tinkler, Naomi!”

Naomi thought she might faint with embarrassment. Her new diaper wasn’t even taped on yet, but she could feel it warming around her crotch as she pissed into the padding helplessly. Miss Brenda tittered and pressed it down firmly against Naomi’s crotch so she could resume taping it on.

“Ewww!” Naomi squealed as the wet padding was pressed against her skin. “Gross! Can’t I get a… you know… another one?”

“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.”

Nora’s face reddened guiltily. “I… I’m not that dru-” Her words turned into a gasp of shock and pain as a hard smack landed on her bottom. She stared at her boyfriend open-mouthed. He’d hit her. Smacked her! She took a step backwards. This was a different side of her boyfriend, one that usually only came out during sex, and while she couldn’t deny that her pussy was tingling a little at his commanding attitude, things were going too far. She didn’t feel like a naughty slut being bossed around in the bedroom. She felt like a misbehaving toddler about to be put in time-out.

“Bad girl, Nora!” her boyfriend scolded. He grabbed her by the arm and spun her around, lifting up her dress and delivering several more painful swats to her behind. “Very bad girl! Don’t you know how dangerous that is?”

“Ow! Ow! Stop!” Nora squealed, squirming to free herself from her boyfriend’s grip. “Stop it! You can’t treat me like this!”

“Oh yes I can, baby,” said her boyfriend, still spanking her rapidly reddening tushy. “You think you’ve got all kinds of rights, silly girl. A right to go out with your friends whenever you want. A right to drink alcohol. A right to be treated like an adult. But those are privileges, and in this house you’ll lose privileges for bad behaviour. I’m your boyfriend, and that means I’m responsible for you.”

“You’re not responsible for me!” Nora insisted. She fought as hard as she could to escape the smacks raining down on her bum, but her boyfriend held her in place effortlessly. She could feel tears welling up in her eyes. “I’m a grown woman!” she whined.

The spanking stopped, and her boyfriend spun her back around, putting a finger up to her face. “You’re a naughty child,” he said firmly, and before Nora could say anything else, he was dragging her over to the bedroom. “If you’re going to act like a baby,” he said, marching her along, “then I’m going to treat you like one.”

They entered the room, and at once Nora’s eyes were drawn to the bed. For a second she stared in total confusion at the thick disposable diaper that was laid out on top of the sheets. Then she realised what her boyfriend meant to do.

“No!” she shrieked. She tried to back out of the room, but his grip on her arm was too strong. “I’m not going to wear that! I’m not!”

“Oh yes you will,” said her boyfriend. “You’re going to wear them and you’re going to use them until I decide you’ve earned your way back into adult underwear. In the meantime, you’d better get used to pottying in your pants, missy. Perhaps that will help you understand how immature you are!”

“Ouch!” Nora yelped as her boyfriend delivered another hard swat to her backside to move her closer to the bed, and her new nappy. “This is crazy! If you think I’m going to take this, you’re out of your mind! OW!”

One Year Later

Nora crawled to the living room on her hands and knees, her thickly diapered rear wiggling in the air behind her as she crept along, looking for her Daddy. Over the last few months, she’d found out there were an awful lot of privileges she could lose. The privilege of choosing her own clothes had quickly joined her potty privileges in the dustbin, and frilly frocks and overalls and stupid baby tees had replaced her elegant dresses and tight jeans – although, like now, she often wore nothing but a nappy inside the house. Not long after that, she’d lost the privilege of feeding herself, and deciding what she ate and drank. Alcohol was a big no-no, of course, and she had to drink exclusively from a baby bottle so she didn’t have any spills. Usually she got to eat whatever Daddy was having, but sometimes she’d just have a big bowl of yucky baby food plonked down in front of her instead. That was happening more and more lately.

It was hard to be a good girl. There were just so many ways to misbehave, and so many privileges to lose! The privilege of acting smart, of watching adult television, of not constantly drooling down her chin. The privilege of walking and talking and getting to cum. She hadn’t realised just how deluded she’d been about her rights, how much she’d taken for granted. Daddy said she had a lot to learn.

She reached the living room and crawled inside, grinning behind her dummy when she saw Daddy sitting in his chair. He looked up as she entered, his smiling eyes lingering on the sagging, yellowed nappy swinging between her legs.

“Uh-oh!” he said. “I think little Nora’s done a big pee-pee, hasn’t she?”

Nora blushed and giggled. His warm tone made butterflies flutter in her tummy. Even though Daddy could be very strict, he was very loving too. He held out his arms. “Come to Daddy, baby!”

Nora hurried over happily, eager for a nappy change. Even after a whole year with disgusting dirty diapers strapped to her bottom, she wasn’t used to the yucky feeling of going potty in her pants. Pee-pee wasn’t as bad as poopy, but she could feel the cold, icky wee-wee padding pressing against her privates, and if she thought about it for too long, it made her want to gag. She’d sank so deeply into her new lifestyle that sometimes she almost forgot she was a grown woman being punished, but a full diaper that badly needed changing would always remind her.

She reached Daddy and got up on her knees, looking at him adoringly, her pacifier bobbing cutely between her lips.

“What’s the matter, baby?” he asked. “Did you come looking for Daddy?”

Nora nodded her head and wiggled her bottom, making her soaked nappy sway from side to side between her bare thighs like a pendulum. She looked down at it pointedly and then back up to him. She wasn’t allowed to speak unless a grown-up removed her soother, so she gurgled stupidly, hoping it would put him in a good mood.

He laughed. “I think I know what my baby wants,” he said, and Nora grinned more widely behind her paci. Good. She could get out of this horrible thing at least. “My little girl wants to suck!”

Nora’s face fell as Daddy unbuckled his belt, undid his zipper, and pulled out his hardening cock. No! That’s not what she wanted! She shook her head and gestured down at her wet diaper, but Daddy just pulled her dummy out of her mouth and, before she could say a word, shoved his dick between her lips.

Nora groaned in displeasure, but she didn’t fight. She’d lost the privilege of saying no to him long ago. Her sore asshole and her tramp stamp tattoo (“Daddy’s Baby Bitch”) could attest to that. Once, she’d hated anal and been adamant that she didn’t want any tattoos. Well, she supposed that was still true... But Daddy was in charge of her body now, and Daddy liked to use her butt, and he liked the way she looked with a trashy tramp stamp on her lower back, so now she did anal and had tats. She’d never liked blowjobs either, but Daddy loved to feel her mouth wrapped around his cock, so…

He pumped her face up and down, his hands gripping her pigtails tightly. “That’s a good girl,” he said, breathing heavily. “That’s a good girl, Nora. This is where you belong, nice and safe with Daddy.”

Nora gagged and choked on his cock, feeling it shoving into her throat.

“My precious girl. A good baby who knows her place. Who might just spend the rest of her life in diapers.”

Nora moaned unhappily at that. She struggled to extract her lips from Daddy’s dick, but he was too strong, and she didn’t dare bite down. The rest of her life?! That wasn’t right!