HELLO PEOPLE OF THE INTERNET, I love the interwebs as it connects people of all kinds its been awhile but I really wanted to update this as to explain to those who might have guessed or didn't that follow me I have recently gotten into a very very...
The morning sun streamed through the bedroom window, painting everything in soft golden light.
She stood in front of the full-length mirror, turning slowly from side to side. Her long brunette hair cascaded down her back in gentle waves, a pale blue bow clipped neatly in the centre. The yellow sundress hugged her delicate frame perfectly, it was feminine, flirty, and just short enough to make her feel a little daring.
Itâs been so long since Daddy and I had a proper romantic date, she thought, smoothing the dress over her hips. Just the two of us doing regular couple stuff. Like grown-ups.
She studied her reflection with a hopeful, determined smile. Big Disney princess doe eyes, plump pink lips, and her adorable tiny button nose Daddy always loved to kiss. She'd made sure to apply her make up carefully, highlighting all her best features. Today she looked like a proper girlfriend.
No diapers today, she told herself firmly. The thin lace panties underneath felt light and freeing. I can do this. Iâm going to be his big girl all day. No accidents. Just a real date like old times.
She was smart, capable, and mature⊠and today she was determined to prove it!
Daddy appeared in the doorway, filling the frame effortlessly. He was truly handsome in that easy, comforting way, broad shoulders, expressive face that could shift from gentle to playfully stern in a heartbeat. When he looked at her, his eyes softened with that special warmth she loved more than anything.
âYou look beautiful, princess,â he said, voice deep and affectionate. He stepped inside and wrapped his arms around her from behind, resting his chin on top of her head. âMy pretty date.â
She leaned back against his chest, smiling brightly up at him in the mirror.
âThank you, Daddy! I picked this dress because I thought it would be perfect for walking around the fair. Did you know the local fair has over thirty different food stalls this year? I read about it online. Thereâs even a new cotton candy stand with vanilla flavours. We have to try it.â
He chuckled, that wonderful hearty laugh she adored, before pressing a soft kiss to her temple.
âIâm looking forward to it, sweetheart. Youâve been so excited about our big date.â
But then he reached for the large pink diaper bag sitting by the door.
Her stomach dropped.
Daddy⊠no.
The frustration bubbled up fast. Everywhere we go he brings that bag. And he only picks daytime activities now because he decided ages ago that I need an early bedtime. Itâs silly. Just because I get tired by eight oâclock doesnât mean I need to be in bed by eight.
When they were first dating, he used to kiss her passionately in the street after a romantic dinner and movie. Now the only âpublic displays of affectionâ Daddy gave her were forehead kisses, boops on the nose, and sly diaper checks when no one was looking.
She had gotten herself all dolled up this morning. Today was supposed to be different.
âDaddy, please,â she said, turning in his arms with a determined pout. Her big doe eyes pleaded with him. âWe talked about this. Today is supposed to be different. I want to feel like your girlfriend, not your baby. I can handle it. I promise. Iâm going to stay dry all day like a big girl. Please?â
He looked down at her with that protective, knowing expression. His hand gently brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.
âI know you want to try, my sweet girl. And Daddy is so proud of how determined you are. Youâre smart, youâre bubbly, youâre full of all those wonderful facts and thoughts you love sharing with me. But I also know my little princess. I know how your body works when weâre out having fun for hours. Iâm not going to risk you being uncomfortable or embarrassed. Let me take care of you properly today.â
She fussed softly, cheeks flushing pink as he guided her toward the bed.
âBut Daddy⊠the dress. Itâs so pretty. The diaper will show and Iâll look sillyâŠâ
âYou could never look silly to me,â he murmured, laying her down gently. âYouâll look adorable as always."
The thick diaper crinkled loudly as he worked, the familiar baby powder scent mixing with her signature vanilla fragrance. When he finished and helped her stand, the sundress did little to hide the obvious padded bulk. Every movement made a soft, telltale rustle.
She wanted to believe her old mask could still fit convincingly. That she could still be the big girl she used to pretend to be. But deep down, a small voice whispered that things werenât like old times anymore.
Because now she was his baby girl.
And Daddyâs job was to make sure his little one was safe and cared for.
The car ride started off hopefully.
She held Daddyâs hand across the center console, swinging it gently. The windows were down, letting in warm summer air that smelled like fresh-cut grass and distant barbecue smoke. Her sundress fluttered against her thighs. For a few minutes she let herself believe this was really going to be their day.
âDid you know fairs like this one have been around since the 1800s?â she said brightly. âThey started as agricultural shows but turned into these big celebrations of community and fun. I think thatâs so sweet.â
Daddy smiled, giving her hand a squeeze. âI love how you know so many interesting facts, princess. Tell me more.â
She beamed, feeling a little spark of confidence.
But every bump in the road made the thick diaper crinkle loudly beneath her dress. The pink diaper bag sat openly in the backseat like an unwelcome guest.
When they arrived at the fair, the full sensory explosion hit her. The air was thick with the sweet scent of fried dough, popcorn, and vanilla cotton candy. Children laughed and screamed on rides. Carnival music played from old speakers. Bright lights and colourful booths stretched out in every direction.
Her heart lifted. This could still be romantic, she thought, slipping her hand into his again. We can walk around, eat cotton candy, maybe kiss on the Ferris wheel like old times.
For the first twenty minutes, it almost felt perfect. They walked hand-in-hand past game booths. She chattered away about the history of ring toss games and how the stuffed animals were probably made in the same factories as her favourite plushies at home. Daddy listened thoughtfully with that fond expression.
But then he gently steered her toward the petting zoo area.
âDaddy,â she whispered, tugging his hand. âI thought we were doing couple things. Thereâs a Ferris wheel and a cute photo booth over thereâŠâ
âWeâll get there, sweetheart,â he said patiently. âBut first I want my girl to enjoy herself. Look how cute the baby goats are.â
She tried to stay bubbly, but the sight of parents pushing strollers and toddlers in diapers made her cheeks burn. Her own padded bottom felt enormous under the sundress. Every step made the crinkle louder in her ears.
They stopped at a lemonade stand. Daddy ordered two drinks, one normal cup for him, one sippy cup for her. She accepted it with a small pout.
As the afternoon wore on, the pressure in her bladder built. She shifted from foot to foot, trying to look casual. I can hold it. Big girls can hold it.
But Daddy noticed. He wrapped a protective arm around her.
âEverything okay, princess? Youâre doing that little dance.â
Her face went bright red. âIâm fine. Iâm being a big girl today. I donât need help.â
The urge hit hard and fast while they were at the petting zoo. A sudden, warm rush flooded into her diaper. She froze, mortified, feeling the heavy warmth settle against her skin.
Tears pricked her eyes.
âI⊠I had an accident,â she whispered, voice trembling. âI really tried, Daddy. I wanted to be your big girl so badly today.â
Daddy immediately scooped her up into his arms, carrying her protectively against his chest. âAww, my poor little girl. You tried so hard to be big today, didnât you? But babies have accidents. Thatâs why Daddy brings extra diapers.â
She buried her face in his shirt, tears soaking the fabric. âI thought if I tried really hard, I could be normal for one day. Like we used to be. You used to kiss me in the street and now⊠now you only kiss my forehead and check my diaper like Iâm just a babyâŠâ
Daddy held her tighter. His hand slid down to gently pat the back of her soaked padding.
âBecause you are my baby, princess. My delicate little doll with the big pretty eyes and the pouty pink lips. You tried so hard to be a big sophisticated girlfriend today⊠and you ended up soaking your diaper like the sweetest, smallest girl instead. Doesnât that feel better than pretending?â
She whimpered, face flaming. âDaddy⊠people might hear youâŠâ
He chuckled softly and booped her tiny nose. âLet them hear. So what if they know my baby girl needs diapers to catch all her accidents?"
The words made her feel impossibly small.
He carried her all the way to the family restroom, fussing over her the entire time, stroking her hair, rubbing her back, whispering gentle praises. Inside the stall, he laid her on the changing table and cleaned her with slow, careful wipes, powdering her thoroughly until she smelled like pure baby.
âLook at you,â he murmured playfully while taping on the fresh, even thicker diaper. âAll blushy and embarrassed in your pretty sundress. My delicate little doll needs so much padding, doesnât she?â
She whimpered, covering her face. The humiliation felt endless.
When they stepped back out, Daddy carried her again, holding her close like the precious baby she was.
The fair was still alive with noise and color, but she felt like everyone was staring. The thick, fresh diaper forced her legs into that obvious baby waddle. Every step made a loud, unmistakable crinkle that seemed to echo across the entire grounds.
Her cheeks burned hot. She kept her head down, long brunette hair falling forward like a curtain, hoping no one could see how heavily padded she was.
Daddy pulled her closer with a protective arm around her shoulders, but his voice carried that gentle, playful tease she both dreaded and craved.
âAww, look at my little princess waddling so cutely,â he murmured, leaning down so only she could hear. âThat thick diaper makes you walk so adorably. Does it feel nice and bulky between those pretty legs, sweetheart?â
âDaddy⊠stop teasing me,â she mumbled, even as a tiny, embarrassed giggle slipped out.
He grinned and kissed the top of her head. âBut you get so adorably blushy when I tease you. Look at those rosy cheeks. My perfect padded princess.â
For the rest of the afternoon, she stopped fighting.
She let him push her on the swings. She let him carry her when her legs got tired. She let him fix her paci clip to her dress when she got fussy. Every crinkle, every squish, every caring touch reminded her exactly who she was.
They found a quiet bench a little away from the main crowd. Daddy sat down and effortlessly pulled her into his lap, arranging her so she was straddling one of his thighs. The thick diaper squished noticeably under her weight, the crinkle loud in her own ears.
They stayed like that as the sky turned pink and orange. She let herself relax against his chest, sucking softly on the paci heâd clipped to her dress. The fair lights twinkled around them while carnival music played in the distance. Every now and then Daddy would gently pat her warm soggy bottom.
For the first time all day, the constant crinkle didnât make her want to disappear.
It made her feel safe.
She wasnât too big for her diapers after all.
She was exactly the right size for Daddyâs arms.
I was gonna pretend I didnât need a check but⊠*tugs pants down and poses* Surprise!
Itâs a little puffy, a little cute, and maybe a little used⊠but Iâve been told Iâm too itty bitty to know the status of my diaper, so youâll have to tell meâŠ
Safe and Sound, an ABDL Story by CradleQuill (Reupload)
Disclaimer: All content is fictional, consensual, and intended only for mature audiences. All characters depicted are adults aged 18+
_
You woke up in a wet bed next to your partner. You were so ashamed. You hadn't wet the bed since you were a little kid. Your cheeks burned hot as you shook your partner awake, and he looked at you with sleepy, confused eyes.
"What is it, baby?" He asked.
You couldn't meet his gaze. Each time you glanced at him for more than a millisecond, your eyes darted away and looked toward the bed in shame. He placed his hand gently beneath your chin and drew your eyes to meet his. "Baby, whatever it is, you can tell me."
That was when he noticed the wetness. You'd soaked the sheets completely, his side of the bed included. He patted the bed, feeling the dampness left by your little accident. He offered a half-smile.
"It's okay, honey," he told you. "These things happen. There's no need to be embarrassed; it's really not a big deal." You leaned into his shoulder, and he pulled you into an embrace. He was so kind, so understanding. He was always such a prince.
You both undressed the sheets together, and he threw them in the wash while you tended to the stain. You knew he was right. It was just a one-off occurrence, and these things happened sometimes. You probably had too much to drink the night before. It wasn't like it was going to happen again.
And it didn't, at least not at first. But a week went by, and then another, before you woke up with wet sheets once again. He was just as understanding as the first time, but you were even more embarrassed. And you swore you could hear a hint of concern in his voice. He probably thought there was something wrong with you. He even asked if you were having nightmares, to which you responded no, you hadn't been.
Over the following month, the bedwetting became a more and more common occurrence. At first, it was just once or twice a week. But then, slowly, it progressed to three or four times. You were waking up wet more than half the week. One day, you came home from work and found a mattress protector on the bed. Your boyfriend was kind, he didn't mention it. And you didn't either because you knew it was for the best. You really did need it.
But the bedwetting didn't stop, and the mattress protector could only help so much. You could see it on your boyfriend's face; he was growing tired of waking up to a soggy bed and a sobbing girlfriend. If he even saw you that way anymore. Lately, he hadn't wanted to be sexual with you, and you couldn't blame him. Who would want to sleep with a bedwetter?
Each night, you grew more and more depressed, knowing you'd wake up with wet sheets once again. Until one night, your boyfriend stopped you as you were getting ready for bed. "Honey, we need to talk," he said. Those words struck fear in your heart and sent a sinking feeling through your chest.
You immediately began apologizing. "I'm sorry," you said. "Please, I know the bedwetting has been a huge problem. I'm sorry. I'll get it under control, I promise! Please just don't break up with meâŠ"
He looked stunned at your sudden outburst. "Honey, nobody's breaking up with anyone, I promise." He guided you to the bed and sat you down next to him. "You're right that the bedwetting has been a problem, baby girl, but I won't leave you over it. I just need you to trust me. Can you do that for me, love?"
With tears fighting to escape your eyes, you simply nodded. He entered the closet and returned with a bright pink package of something you didn't initially recognize. Until he tore open the back and pulled out what was unmistakably a pull-up, like the ones for potty training. You couldn't keep the tears from flowing.
"I know, baby," he said. "I know it's embarrassing, but I think you need them. They'll help keep you dry. And look, these ones aren't for little kids; they're for bedwetters just like you. I promise this doesn't change how I feel about you. You just need some protection at night."
It took several minutes for the tears to subside, but you knew he was right. You needed this, and you did trust him, now more than ever. You stood up and slid down your pants and panties while he held the pull-up open at the sides. You stepped into the childish undergarment, and your boyfriend pulled it up nice and snug around your hips. At first, you felt a hot pang of shame hit your cheeks, but that sensation soon faded into something else. You felt⊠safe.
That evening, your boyfriend tucked you into bed and held you all throughout the night. You were the little spoon, and you felt his crotch rub up against your padded bottom. Each time it did, you felt that same pang of embarrassment wash over you as chills ran down your spine, but he didn't seem to notice. Eventually, you fell asleep.
When you woke, you immediately felt the back of your pajamas and all around your sides, but there was no wetness to be found. The pull-ups, or "Goodnites" as they were called, worked perfectly. You slipped your hand down the front of your pajamas and felt the soaked padding beneath your private parts. When you felt the padding, a jolt of electricity hit you, and your legs quivered. You were⊠turned on by this. There was no way you could ever admit it, but you knew it was true, no matter how much you didn't want it to be.
Quietly and slowly, so as not to wake your boyfriend, you began rubbing the padding between your legs. Little sparks of pure bliss tickled along your spine, and your mouth fell agape as you breathlessly wanted to moan. You didn't want to wake your boyfriend, but you couldn't stop. You just kept rubbing, and soon enough, you began arching your back and tensing your legs.
As you finished in your soaking wet pull-up, you looked over at him, still sleeping, unaware of how naughty and pathetic his girlfriend was behaving right next to him, all while sharing his bed, no less. He stumbled awake a few minutes later while you sat there in your shame. He found you there, still in bed, still in a puddle that was at least contained to your diaper this time.
"How did it go, sweetheart?" He asked. You looked at him with sad eyes but didn't answer. He felt around your butt and found no wetness, so without even asking, he checked the front of your pull-up with his large, stern hands. The moment he gripped the front of your diaper and gave it a good squeeze, you let out a little gasp as you heard the padding squish in his grip.
"It looks like these held up well," he said while rubbing the front of your padding. He had no idea what he was doing to you, but he was turning your brain into absolute mush. You wanted to say something, anything to make him stop. But then, when he finally did, you found yourself desperate for more. You'd already made yourself cum in your soaked pull-ups, but something ached within you to have him rub you until you arrived once again.
That was the beginning of your new, babyish routine. The few dry nights a week you had dwindled into nothing until you were soaking yourself every day. Each night, he'd help you into your pull-ups. And each morning, you'd wake before him, giving you just enough time to rub yourself in your squishy diapers. The danger of having him catch you and seeing how pathetic you truly were only turned you on more. You were losing yourself in your padding, and the worst part was you didn't want it to stop. It was consuming you, and all you wanted was to sink deeper.
The longer this went on, the more you'd wet, until your pull-ups couldn't hold all your pee anymore. Waking up in a soaked diaper and a wet bed made you feel even more like a helpless baby. And your boyfriend didn't stand for it long. Over the weeks, he'd started talking down to you like a child. So when he showed you your new thick, tape-on diapers with a silly design all over them, you couldn't even act surprised.
The thicker padding kept your sheets dry, even with your larger accidents. But they posed their own problems. Your boyfriend wasn't just helping you step into them anymore. Now, he was laying you on the bed, pulling the padding up between your legs, and taping you into your glorified baby diapers. And every time he changed you into one, you couldn't help but get wet in a different way. You knew he noticed it, but he never said anything, which confused you even more.
And with how thick these diapers were, you couldn't make yourself cum in them just by rubbing the front anymore. You would have had to slip your hand down the front. But your boyfriend taped them up so tight, and they were so crinkly, you were too afraid to try it. So each morning, you'd just sit in bed humping against your hands and not even finishing before he began stirring awake.
One day, while he was changing you into your diaper, your boyfriend stopped with your diaper still untapped. He looked at you, gazing lovingly into your eyes, and you could tell he wanted to say something. "What is it?" You asked.
"Honey," he said, taking a second to pause, as if to carefully consider his words. "I've noticed that your diapers⊠turn you on." There was no hint of judgment in his eyes, but the shame washed over you all the same. You hid your face in your hands and started crying as he hushed you and cooed at you.
"Baby, baby, it's okay. I don't mind it. I think it's kind of cute, honestly."
"Y-you do?" You managed to squeak out between sobs and sniffles.
He nodded. "Don't get me wrong, I didn't know what to make of it at first. I caught you rubbing them a few times, but I pretended to sleep through it. But lately, I've seen the way you hump your diapers in the mornings, and it's been turning me on, too, seeing you look so desperate like that. I never thought this would be something I was into⊠or that you'd be into. But here we are."
You couldn't speak. You kept asking yourself if you were in a dream as the world around you began to bob as if stuck in the current of a river. It was like you were a part of the world but distinctly separate from it at the same time. He smiled at you, seeing how desperate you were for him, how every inch of you begged him to come closer.
He left your diaper untapped and crawled into the bed and on top of you. He took the opportunity to slip inside you, and as he did, a burst of pee escaped your bladder and squirted all over him. He didn't turn away. He began thrusting repeatedly into you, and your eyes rolled almost into the back of your head. It was the best sex you'd ever had, and when he was done, he finished inside you and taped you up into your diaper. You could feel the mess he left there leaking out into the padding, along with a few more dribbles of pee.
He laid down next to you and pulled you into his arms. Every sensation in your body was euphoric. And as you stared into his eyes, they looked more soft and tender than they ever had before. "There there, baby girl. You did such a good job for Daddy, little one." The moment the words left his lips, that familiar static shock ran throughout your body, and you slipped further into a place that had been long lost to you, a headspace of complete comfort and quieted thoughts. You knew you wanted to be his little girl forever if you could, and as Daddy held you that night, you knew that the dynamic of your relationship had changed forever, but also for the better.
_
A quiet, peaceful spot in the garden, nestled in the soft shade of the overhanging trees. There she lies on a blanket, completely lost in her own little world, carefully coloring with her favorite pencils.
She gently shifts, making a soft, sweet crinkle. Her thick, candy-patterned padding is full on display as she concentrates on her pages, looking so small, safe, and perfectly content. Just a sweet little girl, entirely untroubled by the big world outside. đâšđ
This caption was written with, is for, and features the adorable @prettymuchpottytrained. I just may have a few more captions left in the tank after all.
Anyone watching you through the baby monitor would be forgiven for thinking you were nothing more than a toddler refusing to sleep. Between the expensive baby monitor Daddy bought and the Bluey nightlight, your infantile state was impossible to miss.
Your Bluey shirt failed spectacularly to cover your overworked Stardust Nursery diaper, which drooped adorably between your legs. Your binky bobbed sporadically while you surveyed the nursery.
Nobody seeing you would ever believe you were actually an adult.
But you could hear what the baby monitor could notâthe telltale sounds of pleasure coming from Daddyâs bedroom.
âAhhh, she's so stinking cute in her widdle diapers!â Mary squealed in delight, watching the diaper-clad girl on Daddy's phone, âSheâs like a real baby with her pacifier!â
âJust wait,â Daddy said behind a smirk, knowing what's about to happen. âIt gets better. But try not to wake her up. It was hard enough putting her down for her nap and sheâs just as fussy as a toddler if it gets interrupted.â
Daddyâs friends nod conspiratorially as they go back to watching the recording on his phone while you nap down the hall, blissfully unaware that your antics are the star of the show.
Had you known the baby monitor had a camera, you might have resisted your urges.
But you didnât.
You couldnât resist the siren song of pleasure. Between Mommyâs moans and Daddyâs decisive gruntsâand your throbbing princess partsâyou were utterly helpless to control yourself.
There you were, kneeling in your crib and diaper, listening to the unmistakable sounds of pure, erotic bliss, forced to accept the truth of your new place in life.
Nobody considered you an adult anymore.
Your nursery was no longer ornamental; it was a functional room designed to handle the needs of a diaper-dependent little one.
Your diapers were no longer accessories; they were necessary. It had been so long since you used the potty that the only time you spent out of them was for baths and the few minutes a day Daddy let your skin air out.
Your clothes no longer serve to highlight your feminine curves; they were designed to make diaper changes easier for Daddy.
Your binky was no longer a âmute button;â it was a necessary tool to calm the nerves of someone too emotionally immature to be expected to self-soothe.
Naptime is no longer an occasional event; it is now a daily requirement to avoid tantrums. One missed nap meant hours of fussiness.
Daddy didnât strip away your decision-making and autonomy because he made you squirm; he did it because he no longer believes you are capable of managing yourself without a caregiver.
He sees you for who you are.
You arenât his strong, independent wife anymore; youâre his poopy pamper princess. He knows you donât need him to be a husbandâyou need Daddy. Someone to wipe the tears off your cheeks when youâre overwhelmed, to change your icky diapies, and to slide your favorite stuffy into your arms before bed.
Which is why Mommy is the one moaning in pleasureânot you.
You didn't get demoted to the nursery because you're just some silly cuckquean, getting off on being relegated to humping stuffies in a soggy diaper. He's not doing it to tease, humiliate, or titillate you.
Heâs doing it because he can no longer imagine the sweet, innocent babygirl who squeals in delight when he blows raspberries on her tummy during poopy diaper changes as a sexual being.
Youâre his baby.
His love for you is as strong as the day he married youâbut the nature of your intimate moments together has irreconcilably changed.
For him, nothing beats the slow, tender evenings with you wrapped up in his arms, staring up at him with sleepy eyes full of love, your binky bobbing slower and slower until you drift off.
Or the rainy weekends when he raids the linen closet so he can build a fort with his little one, making room for every stuffy. Or the binky kisses.
How could he possibly imagine you as an adult with sexual desires?
âWaitâŠsheâs not gonna use that stuffy to do that, right?â James gasped, watching you lay your favorite stuffy on his back.
Mommy and Daddy look at each other, trying not to laugh.
âShe does have one naughty big girl habit,â Mommy chuckled as you positioned yourself with the stuffy, âBut itâs just so stinking cute. Best part is she thinks sheâs sneaky, too.â
They watch your adorably clumsy thrusts into your favorite stuffy. Slowly at first, glancing at the door periodically. Then faster. Greedier.
Mary sighed, âI can't believe I took sex advice from her.â
âMaybe you should take a leaf from her book,â James quipped, âYou've been single for so long, maybe a stuffy would be the perfect boyfriend. Besides, you'd look so cute in one of those diapers! Wait, her little diaper crinkles as she humps are adorable!â
Daddy immediately rushed to pause the video.
âWhy'd you pause it?â
âBecause the video doesn't have sound...â
âWha-whacha wachin', Daddy?â you mumbled. You were too groggy from your nap to be embarrassed about your friends seeing your adorably frizzy hair, diaper, and binky.
âOh, just some boring video, nothing you'd enjoy, kiddo.â
Daddy slid the phone into his pocket before lifting you up and resting you on his hip.
âOh my gosh, do the stars on her diaper fade away when she's wet?â Mary asks, âSee, those stars are normal, and those ones are gone.â
Daddy crinkles your diaper playfully. âThey do! We thought they might help her with some potty training. Seeing her stars go 'bye-bye' might inspire her to stay dry, but...Well, let's just say I expect diapers to be part of her life for a long, long time.â
Knowing your diaper is on full displayâand hearing everyone casually talk about your potty training strugglesâyou hide your face in Daddy's neck, holding onto him like a koala in a hurricane.
âWhat are you doing out of bed, hmm?â Daddy cooed, bouncing you slightly to distract you from noticing his hand pulling back your diaper.
âD-Dada!â you whine at the indignity of this public diaper check.
Daddy rubs your back. âUh oh...are you Dada's little stinkerpants? Poor baby, trying to sleep in that icky yucky didi...â
You peel yourself from Dada's neck to give him your devastating puppy-dog eyes.
âC'mon, baby, let's get you out of that poopy diapie,â Daddy says, heading towards your nursery.
As you're carried off you catch something about a stuffy and laughter.
âWuh funny bou' sthuffie, Dada?â you ask as you're gently deposited onto the changing table.
Daddy tickles your tummy. âOh, they can't get over how much you love your stuffies, that's all.â
For a split-second, a horrible dread crept into your mindâdo they know? Why did Daddy say "love" like that? Did Daddy hear when you...played with Dijon?
But the thought is forgotten the moment cold air rushes into your princess parts as Daddy peels back your diaper.
The only thing that mattered was Daddy putting you in a fresh, warm diaper.
I think when most guys fancy the idea of finding a manic pixie dream girl who has daddy issues..... they assume it's just going to be a moderate amount of whimsy and maybe a stuffed animal or two.
Pertaining to me? There's a certain type of energy that I require and attract. I like to joke around that I'm not looking for a boyfriend.... I'm looking for a parent. Although realistically, I do support and bring worth to all of my relationships.....But my type of partner has to get comfortable with the multiple daily diaper changes, needing teethers at the ready, and constant coddling.
I'm not for every person in this world...... but for the people who do match my energy??? I like to think of myself as a euphoric attachment
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