Stacy bent over at the waist, giving the dishwasher an extra scrub before she put it on. Always bending at the waist was one of Daddy's rules, and in another world that might have meant flashing a pair of sexy panties, or even her bare pussy. But that wasn't the life she had.
She let out a soft grunt, her posture stiffening as she pushed to fill her diaper. She kept scrubbing while she pooped her pants, trying not to draw attention to herself; she could hear Daddy moving around in the kitchen behind her, and she didn’t want to deal with his teasing comments. She might have waited for him to go back to his study, but she just couldn’t hold it any longer. She’d been trying to keep her Pampers clean all morning, and months of diaper discipline had done its job to erode her toilet training. She wasn't incontinent... yet. But she estimated she had about as much control as the average four-year-old when it came to keeping her pants clean and dry. A stream of pee soaked into the thirsty padding, joining the growing load in the seat, and for perhaps the hundredth time that day, Stacy desperately wished her boyfriend allowed her to use toilets.
Another grunt escaped her lips, despite her best efforts, and a deep, amused voice sounded from behind her. “Uh-oh..." Stacy felt her stomach sink. A hand cupped the seat of her nappy, even as it sagged lower between her legs. "Is my naughty little maid making a mess?” She could practically hear the sadistic grin on his face. “What a good girl you are,” her boyfriend cooed with sickening sweetness, "carrying on with your chores even while you make Daddy a present!”
Stacy scowled. Even if she’d wanted to take a break specifically to poop her pants, she didn’t have time! If she didn’t finish cleaning the kitchen and start preparing Daddy’s lunch soon, she’d find herself kicking and wailing over his knee. Although he loved to infantilise her as much as possible, Daddy didn’t let her laze about all day like a real baby. She was, in his words, "still a girl", and that meant doing "girl duties" like cooking and cleaning. Her pussy wettened, and she cursed herself. Why did she have to get off on this?! Why couldn't she just have been a normal girl with a normal boyfriend and normal sexual interests?
With a final grunt, she finished messing herself. Even though they were extra thick, she'd managed to fill her diaper to capacity; the tapes strained with the weight of her load as she straightened up, and Stacy felt even more conscious than usual of the poop packed against her derierre. “Daddy?” she began hesitantly. She knew it was futile, but the huge mess in her pants was so yucky that she couldn't help trying. “Please can I go change my diaper?” She didn't even care if it meant she got a spanking. She just wanted out of the horrid, smelly thing drooping between her thighs.
Her boyfriend smirked. "Of course not, silly baby. You know the rules. It's your responsibility to make sure everything in the house is clean, except your own pants. That's Daddy's job."
Stacy pouted. "Does Daddy feel like doing his job now?" she asked sulkily.
He laughed and swatted her thickly padded rear. “Not just yet, little girl. If that attitude is anything to go by, another hour or two in a stinky nappy will do you some good. Besides, you've still got your chores to finish! Better not dawdle..."
Stacy let out a whine, but she knew better than to complain. Her diapered butt belonged to Daddy, just like the rest of her, and he could do whatever he wanted with it. She knew it would please him to watch her mopping and scrubbing the floors and surfaces, making sure they were completely spotless, all while sporting a thoroughly dirty diaper. Huffing, she bent over and got back to work. Maybe if she was good, Daddy would change her after lunch...
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