The morning sun hadn’t quite peeked through the blinds yet when Daddy stirred, blinking blearily at the digital clock beside the bed. 6:17 a.m.
But that wasn’t what had woken him.
It was a soft, muffled grunt. Then another. A squishy, barely audible crinkle. He turned his head and there she was.
Pam, kneeling at the foot of the bed, bottom facing him with a proud little wiggle. Her thick nighttime diaper, already swollen from a long night of dribbling, had changed shades entirely—those wetness indicators were long blue. The air had that unmistakable morning little scent. Daddy didn’t even try to hide his amused sigh.
“Really, sunshine?” he asked, his voice a little gravelly from sleep.
She froze for just a second, caught mid-push, then let out a breathy giggle and gave her diapered bum a playful shake. “Mmmaybe,” she said innocently. “You left me no choice, Daddy.”
“I leave you no choice, huh?” he asked, folding his arms behind his head as he watched her with tired but fond eyes.
“You un-potty trained me, remember?” Pam turned slightly so he could see the sly smirk on her face. “Now this is your fault.”
Daddy arched an eyebrow. “I only took your bladder control.”
Pam huffed—a dramatic little pout forming on her lips as she wriggled around to face him properly, diaper squishing audibly beneath her. “You said that’s all you were taking,” she said, eyes sparkling with mischief. “But now look at me! Kneeling here like a good little stinker, making my morning mess right in front of you. That’s more than just my bladder, mister.”
Daddy chuckled, the sound warm and low, and ran a hand through his tousled hair. “I think someone’s feeling extra bratty this morning.”
Pam leaned in a little closer, resting her padded bottom on her heels with a wet squelch. “Well, whose fault is that, hmm?” she asked, head tilted.
That earned a real laugh from him this time, a full-bodied chortle that made his chest rise and fall under the blanket. “You’re unbelievable.”
“I’m your problem,” Pam replied sweetly, crawling towards him on all fours—each movement accompanied by a heavy squish.
Daddy watched her approach with that knowing little smirk she always wore when she was especially proud of herself—cheeks flushed, eyes wide with that mischievous glint that told him she knew exactly what she was doing. Each step forward brought her crinkly, sodden diaper closer, and the closer she got, the heavier that unmistakable scent became.
Daddy raised an eyebrow and let out a slow whistle. “You sure made the most of your overnight padding, didn’t you?”
Pam beamed, sticking out her tongue. “I aim to please.” Then, with a coy glance over her shoulder, she added, “And fill.”
He leaned up on one elbow and reached down, running a slow, deliberate hand across the back of her diaper. The soft plastic was stretched tight, the bulk warm and sagging. He gave it a little pat, then a squeeze, just firm enough to earn a squeal from her.
“Someone’s going to need a thorough change later,” Daddy murmured.
She gave a quick nod. “Yup. And you better not leave me hanging.”
He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her up into the bed with him, careful not to squish the mess too much—though judging by her smirk, she wouldn’t have minded. She nestled against his chest, her puffy diaper brushing his thigh as he settled the blanket over both of them again.
“Mmm... You’re warm,” she murmured, curling into him like a content kitten.
Daddy kissed the top of her head and let his fingers gently trace little circles along her back. “You wore yourself out making that mess, huh?”
She giggled sleepily, burying her face against his chest. “Love you, Daddy.”
“I love you too, stinkbug,” he whispered, placing one more kiss on her hair. “Now close your eyes. You’ve earned a bit more rest.”
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