The living room glowed with soft morning sunlight filtering through the curtains.
She sat cross-legged on the fluffy rug right in front of the television, wearing her favorite Sesame Street pajamas. The long-sleeve shirt had a big smiling Elmo on the front, and the cozy bottoms were covered in the colourful characters.
The soft fabric was comfy and babyish, and the pj bottoms did nothing to hide the obvious padded bulk of her diaper underneath.
Her eyes were wide and sparkling as she watched Sesame Street. Big Bird was teaching Elmo and Abby Cadabby how to share toys in the most cheerful way possible. The bright colors and happy music filled the room.
She suckled steadily on her warm morning baba, the sweet milk tasting so comforting as she rocked gently side to side. The bottle was almost empty.
Every now and then she let out a tiny, contented hum around the nipple, completely lost in the bright puppets and silly songs.
Elmo’s so silly today, and Big Bird’s feathers look extra fluffy. Everything feels so nice and warm and safe… she thought dreamily.
In the background, Daddy hummed while washing dishes after breakfast. The clink of plates and running water mixed softly with the cartoon music.
She barely noticed. She was too busy finishing her baba, too happy sitting right here in her favourite little spot with her blankie draped over her lap.
With one last big suckle, the bottle emptied. She set it down carefully beside her and popped her paci into her mouth instead, clutching her blankie tighter against her chest. The soft fabric brushed her cheek as she bounced lightly to the next song, eyes never leaving the screen.
A funny, warm pressure started growing in her tummy.
She shifted a little, but her eyes never left the screen.
Elmo was laughing now, and Abby was flying around with sparkles. It made her giggle behind her paci.
But that familiar pressure only stayed there in her tummy, threatening to interrupt her Sunday morning cartoons.
Nooo… not now, she thought, cheeks already tingling with a faint blush. I don’t wanna stop watching…I can just stay right here.
She ignored it, bouncing gently on her knees as Elmo and Abby sang. The pressure grew stronger, but she was too deep in her floaty headspace to care.
A tiny toot slipped out. Then another. She barely noticed, content in her carefree bubble.
Daddy walked in from the kitchen, drying his hands on a dish towel. He slipped on his glasses, sat down on the couch with his tablet, and smiled softly when he saw his baby girl.
Just the sight of her paci bobbing steadily, blankie clutched tight, and being completely mesmerised by the bright noisy characters made his heart melt.
“Is your tummy all full now from breakfast and your baba, princess?” he asked warmly, his voice full of gentle affection.
“Uh huh, Dada…” she mumbled around her paci, eyes still glued to the screen, not even turning her head.
Daddy opened his tablet and started reading the morning news, but he kept glancing over at her with that knowing little smile.
He already knew exactly what was coming. His baby always made her morning stinkies after breakfast.
It was her body’s sweet, predictable routine, and he loved every part of taking care of it.
She kept bouncing happily on her knees as the characters sang even louder and more joyfully. The pressure in her tummy grew stronger and more urgent, but it still felt distant and unimportant, like background noise in her perfect little headspace.
Another toot escaped and this one was louder but surprisingly she didn’t even register it.
Then, without any conscious thought, her body took over completely.
She subconsciously shifted forward onto her knees in that classic toddler pose, bottom slightly raised, back arched just a little, legs spread for balance.
She didn’t even realise she was doing it.
Her eyes stayed locked on the bright, colourful screen as Elmo and his friends started a lively new dance song about friendship.
She suckled harder on her paci, clutched her blankie a little tighter against her chest, and pushed ever so slightly.
A warm, mushy fullness slowly began to fill the back of her diaper. The soft, heavy load came out with almost no effort at all, it was warm and thick and smooth, spreading gently and steadily against her skin in that unmistakable squishy way.
It kept coming, filling the seat of her diaper more and more until the padding felt noticeably heavier and warmer, the mess pressing softly in all the squishiest, most intimate places.
Her tummy finally felt so much lighter and better, but her diaper felt so much fuller now, the warm mush cradling her in a way that was both embarrassing and strangely comforting.
Still facing the TV and deep in her happy little world, she relaxed completely and sat back down cross-legged without thinking. The mess squished noticeably underneath her, warm and mushy, spreading even more as she settled into her soaked nightime diaper.
She let out a tiny, contented sigh around her paci and kept watching, completely unbothered, her eyes sparkling with delight as Elmo and friends danced across the screen.
Feels better now, she thought feeling relieved and still in a daze.
Daddy watched the whole thing unfold from the couch. He saw the bouncing, heard the little toots, and noticed the exact moment she filled her diaper. He cringed slightly at the thought of the cleanup, but his smile stayed soft and loving. His baby looked so peaceful sitting there in her messy diaper, completely lost in her cartoons, paci bobbing happily.
He set his tablet down and approached quietly, crouching down behind her.
“Hey baby girl,” he said casually. “Do you smell something funny?”
She didn’t answer, still staring at the screen.
He tried again, gently tugging the back of her Sesame Street pj bottoms. “Princess, I asked if you can smell anything funny… because I certainly can.”
She finally turned around, paci still in her mouth, and gave him a sweet, innocent smile. “I can smell something funny, Dada. Did you toot?”
Daddy’s eyebrows rose in amusement as he let out a low chuckle and shook his head in disbelief. “No little one, that wasn’t me”.
Deciding not to humour her today and risk his princess getting a diaper rash, he wasted no time revealing exactly where the funny smell was coming from.
He gently lifted her to her feet and spun her around, pulling back the waistband of her pj bottoms and diaper to check the mess.
“Oh honey,” he said, voice warm with loving tease. “That’s one very messy didi. You sure did make a big stinky for Daddy, didn’t you? Look at all that mushy surprise you left for me in your cute little Sesame Street pants.”
She froze. The realisation hit her like a tidal wave. The warm mush, the heavy weight, the fact that she had just happily sat in it while watching cartoons.
Her cheeks burned bright red. She covered her face with both hands, mortified, squirming in place as the mess shifted again.
Daddy gently pulled her hands away and looked her right in the eyes, determined to make her cheeks turn that pretty shade of pink.
“Baby girl, when Daddy asks you a question, I expect an answer. Now… are you Dada’s little stinker? Hmm?”
She squirmed harder, too embarrassed to meet his gaze. Her voice came out tiny and shy.
“Y-yes…”
Daddy chuckled softly and tilted her chin up.
“Yes what, princess?”
She pouted, cheeks flaming hotter than ever.
“Yes… I’m Dada’s little stinker.”
“That’s right,” he praised warmly, pulling her into a big hug and rocking her gently. “You’re Dada’s sweet little stinker who made a big messy stinky in her diaper. I’m so proud of you for telling me like a good girl.”
She hid her burning face in his chest, but a tiny, shy smile appeared anyway. Daddy’s praise always made the embarrassment feel a little warmer, even as the heavy, squishy mess reminded her exactly what she’d done.
He scooped her up effortlessly into his arms, cooing softly as he carried her upstairs. “Now that you’ve told Daddy about your dirty diaper like a good girl, how about we go get that messy butt all clean and into a fresh diapie, princess?”
She wrapped her arms around his neck and nodded, still blushing furiously as he carried her, fussing over her with gentle kisses and whispers the whole way.
A soft moan escapes my lips as her long fingernails gently dance along my back.
I press my face deeper into her soft chest in a futile attempt to stifle the embarrassing noise, only to be met with the soothing rumble of her soft laughter.
"Oh, does my little one like that?" she coos as her fingers dance back over that same spot.
As wave of pleasure washes over me again, I can't help but squirm and let out another, pathetic little moan.
"Oh, they do!" She continues, pride at her discovery dripping from her words, "Mommy found your happy button!"
I can feel my cheeks burning from her words, but I don't protest her words or her touch. She's not wrong. Her fingers lazily trailing across my back feel wonderful, and I don't want her to stop.
Her fingers begin to work their way lower than they have before. They run past my mid-back, drift to my lower back, and stop, making small circles, just above my hips.
I unwittingly flex my groin into her thigh. m
My moans become whimpers.
She lets out another laugh, this one more sultry, more dominant than before.
"If that was your happy button," she purrs, "Then what button is this?"
Her fingers move lower, pirouetting across my ass cheeks before wrapping themselves completely around one.
As she squeezes, my body is vibrating in ectasy. My whimpers have turned into whines. But my embarassment is gone.
All I can think about is her words, her smell, her taste, her touch.
In this moment, she's my whole world, and she knows it.
"Oh, does the baby like this?"
Her voice is a possessive growl.
I sputter out something that sounds like affirmation as she squeezes my ass again.
She laughs.
"Show Mommy how much you like it."
I shut my eyes and nuzzle my face into her chest again as I start to rhythmically grind my hips into her leg, guided by her touch.
"That's it... Good baby... Go ahead... Cum for Mommy..."
I should be embarrassed.
I should be mortified.
I should be upset.
I'm rutting into her leg like a dog in heat, unable to ignore my basest instincts, driven on by nothing more but her condescending words.
I'm not any of those things though.
In this moment, I'm nothing more than Mommy's mindless, obedient little plaything.
It doesn't take long until my body's stiffening, muscles constricting, and my whole being is shaking as I cum against the flesh of her shapely thigh.
"Mmmmmooommmy," I grunt out as I release, screaming her title into the air.
Her fingers, now wrapped around my hips, work their way back up my back, over my neck, and wrap themselves in my hair.
She tugs my head back as my body relaxes, forcing my eyes up to meet hers.
Her expression is all dominance and cool satisfaction.
"What a good baby," she coos before pressing her lips to mine.
Her breath tastes like wine and tobacco.
Our lips part, and I feel her gently, but firmly urging my head down, towards her waist.
"I found your happy button," she continues as she parts her legs, guiding me between them, "It's only fair I show you where mine is."
I press my lips to her slit, kissing it lightly before beginning to tease it with my tongue.
I don't need to be told what to do.
She moans, fingers gripping the sheets of the bed as I find it: Mommy's Happy Button.
I smirk into her as I feel her body tense, ready to show her just how grateful I am to be her baby.
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 me…"
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.
_
This story was written with, by, and features the super-talented and undeniably adorable @littledreambunny! She wrote the parts from the little's perspective, and I wrote the parts from Dada's perspective. Since it's it swaps perspectives, Dada's parts start in blue and Bunny's in pink.
I catch myself glancing over to the empty passenger seat for the fourth time in five minutes, a habit that suddenly feels all wrong.
At the next stoplight, I pulled out my phone and googled it: the opposite of deja vu is jamais vu—that eerie sense of unfamiliarity for something that should be second nature.
Which makes sense. We’re driving down the same street, to the same park, to meet the same friends for a picnic we’ve had in the same spot countless times.
Yet nothing about this drive feels familiar—though I guess the cause of the unfamiliarity isn’t really a mystery.
After all, there is a perfectly understandable reason why Jenny, my longtime girlfriend, is buckled safely in the backseat instead of riding shotgun as my passenger princess.
That seat is for adults—a term that no longer describes the girl I see in my rear view mirror, nervously twisting the hem of her sundress, constantly checking if it hides the thick diaper underneath.
She's nervous because today is the first time we’re going out in public, not as boyfriend and girlfriend, but as Dada and his little Bunny.
So maybe this isn’t jamais vu.
Though the scene is undoubtedly unfamiliar—at least for now—I’m sure it won’t be long before it’s our new normal.
My bigger concern is getting her through today with minimal tantrums and meltdowns. Much easier said than done when it comes to changes like this.
Big changes lead to big feelings. And big feelings lead to tantrums if I’m not careful.
Not that I would blame her if she did, of course. Not today. Not when it’s the first time seeing all her old friends in her new status. I know it won’t be easy for her going from their equal to…well, their adorable little friend.
Her friends would never tease her–quite the opposite! They’ve been texting me like crazy, asking me about her, for pictures, and if they can bring her any presents. Since littles don’t need phones, it’s much harder for them to reach her.
Needless to say, they’re excited about the picnic.
It hasn’t been easy putting this together. Until today, Jenny was the one who planned the picnics, assigned tasks, and organized the charcuterie boards.
How were we supposed to plan our most important picnic ever when the most important person for planning was busy watching Bluey in increasingly soggy diapers?
We did manage to get some age-appropriate games and snacks for her, so she should be plenty entertained.
Though, the closer we get to the park, her fidgeting has noticeably increased…
“Are you excited to see your friends, honey? You’re looking like a squirmy squirrel back there!”
Dada’s voice floats back, warm and teasing. He calls me his squirmy squirrel again, and my cheeks flare hot right away. The kind of hot that spreads fast, like someone turned a spotlight just on my face.
I duck my head lower, trying to hide. Knees squeeze together tight. That only presses the soggy diapie harder against me. A loud crinkle-crinkle bounces around the car.
I freeze. Did he hear? Does it sound as huge to him as it does to me?
The engine is quiet now. The car has stopped. Outside the window everything looks the same as always, big shady tree, picnic blanket already down, my friends laughing and waving like it’s just another day. But it’s not.
My heart thumps hard and fast in my chest, so loud I’m scared Dada can hear it too. My tummy flips over and over, twisty and fluttery, like there are butterflies trying to get out.
I can’t do this. I really can’t.
“Nu-uh…nuh-uh…not ready yet, Dada…” My voice comes out so small, barely louder than a whisper. “My dress is too short…it doesn’t cover my diapie at all…and it’s all full and squishy…every time I move it makes noise…they’re gonna hear it…they’re gonna see…”
My fingers grab the hem of the dress. Twist. Pull down hard. The crinkles get louder, sharp and plasticky, like they’re laughing at how hard I’m trying to hide.
I squeeze my legs again, harder this time. The padding squishes back, warm and heavy. I can feel how soggy it got on the drive. How it sags just a tiny bit with every shift.
My face burns hotter. I want to curl up small and disappear under the seat.
The driver’s door opens. Gravel crunches under Dada’s shoes. My breath catches in my throat.
The back door swings wide. Sunlight rushes in, bright and warm across my face and arms. Dada crouches down right in front of me, so close I can smell his soap and feel the calm that always comes with him.
He speaks softly, something about not needing to be nervous, about how no one will tease me, about how he’s got me no matter what. His big hand slides under my chin, gentle, tilting my face up so I have to look at him.
I do. Slowly. His eyes are steady and kind and full of pride. Like being little is the best thing in the world. Like I’m perfect exactly like this, dress too short and diapie showing and all. My eyes sting a little. The scary knot inside my chest loosens, just enough to breathe again.
“O-okay…Dada…” The words shake. Tiny. “Pwease… hold my hand super duper tight? And… don’t let go? Even if I get all fidgety and silly?”
He nods, smile soft. “Always, Bunny. I even brought Sir Hops-a-Lot along, the brave wallaby ready to protect his princess. Now, take a deep breath for me…good girl! C’mon, we don’t want to keep our friends waiting.”
Dada reaches in to unbuckle me. His fingers brush my tummy, warm, careful and then he’s helping me slide out of the car. My sneakers touch the ground.
The diapie squishes loud and heavy right away. The dress rides up in the back. I yank it down fast with both hands, cheeks on fire again.
His hand is already waiting. Open. Big. Warm.
I slip my smaller hand into his. He squeezes once, firm and sure, like a promise I can hold onto. I reach back for the blanket, hug it tight against my front like armor. We start walking.
Squish. Crinkle. Squish. Crinkle. Every step.
The padding shifts and presses. Sags a tiny bit more. I tug the hem down again and again. It never feels long enough.
The blanket gets closer. My friends look up. Big smiles. They pat the spot right in the middle. One of them calls my name, happy, excited, like they’ve been waiting just for me.
I glance up at Dada. Eyes wide. Pleading.
The juxtaposition between the casual, relaxed smiles of our friends and the nervous, pleading eyes of my little Bunny is jarring. As easy as it would be to dismiss it as a necessary part of her new life, I can’t.
Not when her needy gaze calls me to action, begging me for the assurance she so desperately needs right now. For a fleeting moment, I can see both worlds in her eyes, the remnants of the big girl she’s leaving behind and the innocent, neediness of the little she’s becoming.
As we reach the edge of the blanket, I pull her close to me, hoping the closeness wordlessly conveys she’s safe with Dada–as long as she has me, everything will be okay.
Even if it’s scary.
“There she is!” Kate bubbled, waving at Jenny.
Emily shifts to make room for Jenny, patting the spot between her and Kate, beckoning their friend to sit down. “Hi sweetie! Come sit with us!”
On the other side of the blanket, Anna smiles quietly, taking in Jenny’s outfit. Caleb offers that same, laidback grin he’s known for, as he leans back on his elbows, relaxed. Toby fumbles with a bag of gummy bears before awkwardly thrusting it at Jenny.
“That outfit is so stinking cute!” Lisa beamed.
They all smile expectantly at Jenny. Not staring. Not judging.
As if they’re seeing something brand new yet strangely familiar at the same time.
I give Jenny another squeeze. Even as a big girl Jenny rarely enjoyed being the center of attention–and today, she’s the star of the show.
“Hey, everyone!” I add, hoping to give Jenny a moment to compose herself. Her hand still clings to mine, slick with sweat.
My hand is still tucked inside Dada’s, fingers damp and clinging. The diaper beneath the sundress feels impossibly present, warm, heavy, sagging just enough that every breath reminds me it’s there.
The hem of the dress brushes my thighs, too short, too thin, offering no real cover. A soft crinkle escapes when I shift my weight. Tiny. But in my ears it booms.
Heat rises again, slow and relentless. It starts behind my ears, creeps along my jaw, floods my cheeks until they feel like ripe summer peaches left too long in the sun. I duck my chin, trying to hide the flush, but it only makes the blush feel bigger, brighter, more impossible to conceal.
I was the one who used to double-check the weather, who made sure the charcuterie board had balance and color and texture.
I was the one they asked for advice, for plans, for the next step.
Now I’m standing here with my hand in Dada’s like a child crossing a busy street.
Now my dress is too short and my padding is too full and my legs won’t quite straighten the way they used to.
Now the clever, capable Jenny feels like a coat I’ve outgrown, still hanging in the closet, still mine, but no longer the one I reach for first.
The thought twists in my chest. Sharp. Sweet. Embarrassing.
A little thrilling.
I swallow. Clear my throat. Try to summon that old voice.
“H-hi,” I squeak, finding my voice, “We should… move the fruit to the shady side.”
The words come out softer than I mean them to, higher, almost questioning.
“And maybe start with Uno? It’s quick…and everyone likes it…”
They don’t laugh. They don’t correct me. Kate just nods slowly, smiling gently.
I do my best to stifle a laugh. Big or little, Jenny can’t resist giving advice about the optimal picnic setup.
“Hmm, that’s a good point, Jenny,” Kate answers, “But look, we’ve already got everything set up. Come sit?”
She pats the blanket again, the motion small, inviting.
I gently nudge Jenny forward. “Go sit with Kate, Bunny,” I whisper to her, “Besides, you don’t need to worry about all that boring planning anymore. Leave that to the big girls.”
Jenny shoots me a look somehow both mutinous and needy. Not that I blame her, but the point remains.
Littles don’t plan events or give orders to adults.
Emily reaches over without a word and places the box of animal crackers in front of the spot they’ve saved.
Anna shuffles the Uno cards with practiced ease. “Ready when you are,” she says softly.
It’s hard not to feel sentimental at a moment like this. Here, at the crossroads between two worlds, hearing our friends talk to her like the Little she is, supporting her choice to go back to babyhood.
From here, the gulf between the women they will become and the little Jenny is becoming will become an expanse. Unlike her friends, Jenny will never become a doctor, lawyer, or teacher. She’ll never get married, have children, or buy a house.
No, Jenny’s path is painted in pastels.
She’ll be my Bunny, my babygirl. Her days will be spent in the crinkly embrace of diapers, nap times, and being rocked to sleep on my lap.
Yet, one thing I know for sure is they’ll be her friend throughout it all.
I glance at Dada. His eyes hold mine, steady, warm, brimming with something that looks like pride and something softer, familiar, like the first light after a long night.
His thumb traces one slow arc across my knuckles.
The touch loosens something inside me. Not all the knots. Just one. Enough to let me take a step forward.
I lower myself carefully. Knees together. Dress smoothed as best I can. The padding compresses beneath me. A muffled squish. Warm. Heavy.
I freeze for a heartbeat, waiting for the sound to echo, for someone to notice.
No one does. Or if they do, they don’t show it.
Anna deals the first card. Caleb makes a joke about drawing four. Lisa passes me the juice box.
“Don’t drink it too fast,” Lisa suggests quietly.
Like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
I take a sip. The sweet-tart bursts on my tongue. The cracker crunches between my teeth. The cards slide across the blanket. Laughter ripples around me.
Dada’s knee brushes my back, warm, solid, present.
The old Jenny, the one who used to direct traffic and keep score, feels thinner now. Like a shadow stretching long at dusk. Still there. Still me.
But fading softly in the golden light.
And in her place, something smaller begins to stir. Quiet. Warm. Blushy. Safe.
I match a red card. Smile shyly when Anna cheers. Tug the hem of my dress one more time, a habit, useless, sweet.
The butterflies in my tummy slow their frantic wings.
I hope you’re doing well and enjoying the spring, which has definitely settled in here anyway : )
I’d like to ask you a few questions: feel free to answer or not, whichever you prefer 🌺
First, I was wondering how and at what point in your life you discovered your interest in DD/LG and AB/DL? I know you’re incontinent and that it’s surely not always a pleasant experience to go through, but in your opinion, is your desire for regression closely connected to the fact that you wear your Princess special protection constantly?
Also, how did you meet your Daddy? Was he surprised that you still need to wear diapers all the time at your age? I imagine he must often offer to change you; so is it up to him to decide if you need a fresh diaper, or are you allowed to ask for one when it seem to be (how can I say, without be mean) "necessary" ?
Finally here are my most blushy questions: do you need to have your attention distracted -with little toys for exemple- while Daddy wipes your butt? And should you be happy or upset if Daddy decides to leave you wearing nothing but a thick enough diaper -to keep you dry as long as possible- while you play in your playpen with, ofc with a huge selection of your favorite baby toys? If so, do you prefer to have cute animals drawn on your diapy or a good wetness indicator who leaves no room for doubt on your Princess part?
Wish you a very very pleasant week 🌻
Oh gosh, you always ask the best and most blushy questions, daddyeole… 🙈💕
I’ll do my best to answer while I’m sitting here all blushy and embarrassed hehe
I first discovered DD/LG as a teenager when I spent way too much time on Tumblr. I was also reading tons of fanfiction on Wattpad and just starting to explore kink during all those puberty hormones. DD/LG really pressed a lot of my buttons, and because it overlaps with AB/DL, I learned about that too.
At first I wasn’t a fan at all. I was already struggling in high school with my incontinence and I hated having to wear diapers. I just wanted to forget about them. But when I turned 18 and started wanting a caregiver/daddy, I realised my “princess special protection” could actually help me drop into little space. It became a tool that made me feel extra small and safe. Over time it even helped me accept my diapers more and have a gentler, more positive view of them.
And yes… I do think my desire for regression is closely connected to needing to wear diapers all the time. Deep down I still feel like a little girl. My favourite things haven’t really matured. I love cartoons for toddlers, colouring books, crayons, nap time with my binky, stuffies, and dolls. Regression gives me comfort and permission to just be little and need my diapers.
I met my Daddy through DMs. He messaged me after seeing my cute posts, and we were both looking for a real relationship with a DDLG dynamic. We clicked because we share similar values and wanted the same things. He already had experience with DDLG and AB/DL, so he wasn’t new to keeping girls in diapers. I told him right away that I’m incontinent and wear diapers because I need to, not just for fun. He was a little surprised at first, but he’s so open-minded and accepting that it didn’t bother him. It did mean he had to learn how to support me emotionally as my boyfriend too, and he does an amazing job at both.
He loves changing me (which still makes me giggle because it makes him feel so “daddy”). He does frequent diaper checks (much to my embarrassment!) but I know it’s necessary so I don’t leak. I’m allowed to ask for a change whenever I need one, and he never says no because my comfort and happiness always come first. When I’m with him I slip into little space so easily because he dotes on me and constantly reminds me I’m just his baby. It’s his job to worry about my diapers while I’m told to just relax.
Eeeeek the last questions are making me so blushy and squirmy! I still get really nervous and shy when Daddy changes me, especially if I’ve done a poo poo and he has to wipe my butt. He’s very good at distracting me though! He gives me my stuffies or other baby toys to play with and talks silly to me until I’m giggling and smiling again. If I’m extra fussy he pops my binky in my mouth and hands me my favourite stuffie to cuddle, and I calm down right away 🥰
Daddy often keeps me in thick diapers because he calls me his “tinkle fountain” hehe. He loves dressing me in cute onesies and baby outfits, but he would absolutely leave me in nothing but a thick diaper in my playpen with lots of toys and Bluey on the tv, and I would be completely happy with that!
As for your final blushy question… Mmmm I prefer cute animal prints on my diapie! Daddy doesn’t really need a wetness indicator because he likes to just feel and check my diaper himself (and I’m usually soggy more often than not). Even so, I do like printed ABDL diapers sometimes, but plain white ones feel the most babyish and classic to me.
Thank you for the sweet questions and for being so kind! I hope you’re having a lovely spring too! 🌸🍼
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