He groaned.  A mix of exhaustion and frustration, the sea of taillights attached to snails of cars.  The day had stretched on and on, a nightmare of drudgery from the moment he stepped foot out of the house that morning.  Neither of them had known that his commute would be such a strain, they hadnât moved that far⊠but the construction in this part of town had been unexpected.  And awful.
Work had been terrible, his boss breathing down his neck with so much of his department out sick, on paternity leave, or laid off. Â His workload had tripled and now the manager only had two employees to oversee instead of seven. Â Which turned a normally enjoyable job into a horror show of micromanagement.
As he neared the bottleneck of the construction, the left two lanes ending, an old beat up white pickup with only half a bumper came flying up the shoulder. Â He slammed on the gas, veering to the right, his heart pounding in his chest as the asshole knocked over three of the barrels, careening through the space where his Mazda had just been.
Most people would have frozen in that moment, slamming on the brakes instead of the gas, and it would have potentially cost him his life. Â The pickup cut off the next two lanes, moving across the whole of the highway before riding the other shoulder to the next exit. Â As the shock dissipated, rage bubbled in his heart as he leaned out the window, screaming. Â A vein bulged in his forehead, and the car behind him honking to move forward into the two car lengths that had opened in front of him was maddening.
Fury driving his hand much as he drove the vehicle, he pulled back into his lane and made it through the bottleneck.  Where normally the renewed flow of traffic, that moment of bliss when two lanes becomes four and the road is open, would bring him peace⊠he had only rage.  Visions of the white pickup clobbering him wouldnât go away, and his chest was tight as he finished his drive home.
By the time he pulled into his driveway, his fury was gone and only weariness remained.  He wanted nothing more than to sink into his couch with a beer and let his mind empty in front of the television.  He wanted to not move, not think, and not exist⊠just for a little while.  Her car was in the driveway - she beat him home, as usual.  He hoped she wouldnât need much attention tonight, he didnât think he had it in him to be comforting and consoling about whatever inane gossip was going on with âthe girls at workâ today.
He stopped, his hand on the doorknob, and banished those thoughts.
I love her. Â Yeah, I had a shit day but if she needs me, Iâm there for her.
With a deep breath, he stepped in through the door.
âSweetie, Iâm home!â
Silence. Â Maybe she was asleep? Â With a weary sigh, he closed the door and pulled his shoes off, leaving them in the entryway before trudging to the kitchen. Â Beer in hand, he lowered himself onto the couch and grabbed the remote, looking for something completely mindless.
Even in his exhaustion, he couldnât help his smirk as he heard the crinkling coming down the stairs. Â He stilled his face, hiding the growing glee as the crinkling came closer.
He took a moment to admire her when she stepped between himself and the TV. Â Light brown hair tied back in pigtails with huge pink bows, shining green eyes and a smattering of freckles across her nose. Â That one tooth that wasnât quite straight in her otherwise flawless white smile. Â The tiny dimple in just the left cheek. Â Her shirt was three sizes too small, making her pert breasts seem larger. Â It proclaimed âDaddyâs Princessâ in sparkly white letters on the pink fabric. Â The skirt she wore was short, soft, and frilly - a light blue to match one of the striped knee socks she wore, the other a pink that matched her shirt.
And her diaper was impossibly thick and unhidden by her skirt, she had to be wearing three layers, making her walk an absurd waddle, a cacophony of crinkles.  Happy stars and clouds showed that she was dry - but that was expected with the amount of padding she had on, she could be soaked under there and the wetness indicator would lie for her.  He felt a stirring in his pants at the thought.  She had introduced him to this idea, to being his baby girl⊠but he loved it.  With effort, he kept the shining beam of glee from his face with incredible willpower.
âHi Daddy.â Â She put her hands behind her back and rocked from side to side. Â "Can I have a drink of your pop pretty please?â
âOh princess, this isnât for little girls. Â This is a daddy drink.â Â He watched her face fall, her lip poking out as she pouted at his refusal.
âBut Daddy.â Â He moved his drink quickly as she climbed into his lap, scrunching that padding against him as she spread her legs wide to put a knee on either side of him. Â "Iâm real real thirsty. Â Real thirsty.â
âWhat does my pretty little girl want to drink?â
âYour pop!â Â She sniffled dramatically, tilting her head so her eyes looked larger, batting her eyelashes at him. Â "Iâm soooo thirsty, Daddy!â
He leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on her soft, pouting lips.
âLetâs get you a bottle, sweetie. Â Weâll lay you down in my lap and youâll have a nice bottle while we watch some cartoons.â
âI donât want a bottle, daddy! Â Bottles are for babies and Iâm a big girl.â Â Her diaper crinkled loudly as she shifted in his lap, crossing her arms. Â "Please please pretty please may I have some pop?â
With a stretch, he set his beer on the table beside the couch, wrapping one arm behind her back before plunging a finger through the legband of her diaper, brushing his fingertips through the bush hidden within. Â She squeaked and wiggled, turning a bright shade of red.
âWell, you are still dry - does that mean that someone changed you just before I got home? Â Were you good for the babysitter?â
âShe was so mean!  I had one tiny accident and she put me in extra diapers!â  She rubbed her eye dramatically with the back of one hand.  The fictional babysitter often set the mood for their play, whether his princess was going to be a good girl for him⊠or if sheâd need some adjustment.
âIâm sure her note will tell me exactly what was going on.â  He slid his hand down her back and patted her bottom while he brought her head to his shoulder with the other hand.  She melted into him as he tapped a rhythm gently on her backside before standing, settling her on one hip easily.  His friends had teased him about dating a girl a foot shorter than he was⊠even he had no idea how wonderful that would turn out to be.
He walked toward the kitchen, he stress and worry left on the couch as he carried the most precious treasure in the world to the kitchen as she snuggled against him.
That childish whine, that tone, that word - filled him with more joy than he would have believed possible before he had lived it. Â His precious little girl was giving him the loveliest of gifts. Â Her submission fulfilled him. Â This was no tedious task, this was doting on the most precious person in the world. Â And as his hand gripped the soft padding of her diaper, he felt the last of his stress melt away.
With effort and only one free hand, he prepared a bottle for his princess - her favorite one, adorned with sparkles and unicorns - full of chocolate milk, and settled back down on the couch. Â Her padded bottom was gentle set in his lap, her head cradled in one arm as she lay back. Â He placed her stuffed turtle in her arms as he reached his hand around, her head turning to accept the nipple of the bottle between her lips without fuss.
As she suckled, as he watched her throat bob with the rhythm of the bottle, his free hand rested between her thighs, rubbing her thick diaper gently, patting every so often and drawing a soft moan from her. Â His own manhood was throbbing in his jeans as his love sucked at the offered nipple, her eyes closed, her hips grinding ever so slightly against his hand.
He took the bottle gently when it was drained, a small trail of chocolate milk trailing from a corner of her mouth. Â Setting it aside, he drew her closer as he kissed it away, tasting the chocolate on her face and tongue. Â Her own tongue slid beyond his teeth as their lips locked, dancing with his own as she held his hand between her legs, pressing his fingertips against her diaper. Â A long, low moan came from her as they kissed, a tiny gasp as it broke.
âI love you Daddy.â Â Her voice didnât have quite the same degree of innocence it had earlier. Â "Fuck me. Â Please?â
âOh but youâre so beautifully padded, princess.â Â He grinned wryly as he rubbed against her diaper. Â "Maybe we should just slip some nice locking panties on over that thick diaper and put you in your crib for the night?â
"Nooooo!â Â Lust was in her eyes as she whined, sitting up to straddle him again, her back arched and leaning in close as she slowly ground her hips back and forth, sliding the diaper against his pants. Â "Daddy, Iâm horny. Â Please? Â Please daddy?â
Those little pouting eyes were back, but there was a different glint to them, a hungry one. Â She leaned forward and kissed him again, dragging her diaper against his pants, rubbing against his member and making his blood stir in him.
"Please daddy.â  Her teeth against his jaw, his neck, his ear.  A flick and touch of her tongue.  A sultry whisper.  "Fuck me⊠â
Without another word, he stood, hooking a finger in the waistband of her innermost diaper and giving a tug, yanking them down over her body. Â Her hands went to his pants, unbuttoning them quickly and yanking them down in kind. Â He grabbed her hips and lifted, hoisting her into the air, her skirts bouncing. Â He sat back down on the couch, holding her close, holding her to him as he lowered her gently onto his cock.
She was warm and wet, a sharp gasp coming from her as he slid deep.
Her nails dug into his shoulders as he rocked, his hands on her hips, moving her back and forth, lifting her slightly as he fucked her, pulling his own hips back to withdraw just to plow into her again, drawing a small grunt from her each time.
âWhoâs my precious princess?â
The feel of her surrounding him was amazing, the nails raking his back equally so, as he kissed her neck, bouncing his girl on his lap.
âMe Daddy, me!â Â She arched her back, letting out a long moan.
âAnd whatâs my princess good for?â
âFuck me!â Â She howled as she bounced in kind, rolling her hips and biting his lips. Â "Iâm good for fucking. Â Use me, Daddy! Â I want you!â
"Iâm in you.â Â His growl rumbled in his chest as he thrusted, his fingers digging into her soft skin. Â "Youâre mine. Â Youâre my princess, my doll, and my fucktoy.â
Each word drew a new moan from her as she spasmed, her thighs shaking as she came. Â He knew her buttons well.
"When Iâm done fucking you⊠â  He pumped furiously as he held her tightly, grinning madly at the line of drool that slid down her face, her tongue hanging out.  "Iâm going to lay you back down, Iâm going to put those diapers back on you, and youâre not allowed to speak the rest of the night.  Iâm going to fuck you so hard that youâll only have baby babble tonight!â
She let out a piercing moan as she spasmed again, squeezing his manhood inside her. Â Their breath was in ragged unison as they moved, her skirts bouncing over his bare thighs.
âYes Daddy!â  She gasped between words, barely coherent.  "Thank you Daddy.  Oh god⊠â
"Cum for me again, princess. Â Now!â
She shuddered another climax as he felt himself peak as well, lifting them both off the couch with his thrusts. Â He arched his back and let out a long moan as she continued to grind against him, driving him completely over the edge.
When they were done, when they had a moment to breathe, he laid her down as promised.
He put her carefully back in those three diapers, knowing that they would be soaked by bedtime.
And she didnât say another word the rest of the night, pointing and babbling and bouncing, bringing joy to his heart.
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