As a writer, I am often intrigued by certain words or word combinations, and I was thinking about which ABDL words really hit me right in the caregiver or little feels. So here’s a list 💕 There will be a fair amount of ageplay words as well, so be warned!
“Accident-prone”
“Baby cuck/cuckie baby”
“Baby sub/subby baby”
“Babygirl” (spelled this way specifically)
“Bedwetter” (spelled this way specifically)
“Big girl undies”
“Couldn’t hold it”
“Crinkle baby/baby crinkles”
“Diaper baby”
“Diaper brained”
“Diaper butt”
“Diaper check/let Mommy check your diaper”
“Diaper dependent”
“Diaper girl”
“Diaper waddle”
“Did someone have an accident”
“Did you go potty in your pants”
“Did you make a mess” (I find this one less embarrassing for some reason)
“Didn’t make it on time”
“Does someone need a change”
“Goodnites”
“Goony girl” (shut up)
“Huggie humper”
“I don’t think you’re ready for pull-ups”
“Kiddo”
“Leaky girl”
“Let Mommy change your diaper”
“Let’s change that diaper, little one”
“Like a big girl”
“Little girl”
“Little leaker/leaky little girl”
“Little miss ‘still-pees-her-pants’”
“Little one”
“Make tinkles”
“Make an uh-oh”
“Messy girl” (ignore this one it’s embarrassing)
“Mommy’s girl”
“No more big girl undies”
“Not big enough for that”
“Padded princess”
“Padding”
“Pamper bottom”
“Pissy pants”
“Poopy pants” (we’re ignoring this one too)
“Potty accident”
“Potty chart”
“Potty pants”
“Princess parts”
“Pullups” (it’s cuter when spelled this way)
“Put back in diapers”
“Silly little thing”
“Sweetie”
“Still needs diapers”
“Tinkle bell”
“Tinkle fairy”
“Too little for that”
“Too little to use the big girl potty”
“Training pants/training panties”
“Unpotty trained/training”
“Waistband peek”
I’m sure there’s a ton I’m forgetting, but a lot of these are interchangeable or variations of the same thing, so I’m gonna leave it here. Let me know if you have any favorites I missed!
Being a bisexual ABDL Switch is wild. Like what do you mean I want to wear a diaper as a caregiver while dominating someone into innocent helplessness then become the darling little pamper packer I am for them?! 😬🥺😭💗
As a fellow queer ABDL Switch this is so relatable. I love knowing that I can turn my friends into a blushy mess while I'm teasing them, even though I'm wearing a diaper and onesie almost every time 🥹🥰🍼
(a work of dd/lg fiction. all characters are consenting adults. yall. this might be the hottest and grossest thing ive ever written. and yes maybe im projecting bc i have a thing for hockey player dads 🫠 enjoy freaks)
i loved game days the best. when dad and all his hockey teammates got suited up in their jerseys and padding and skates, and took to the ice.
the air in the ice arena was chilly full of anticipation as everyone found their seats. i liked to be in the veryyyy front row, so i could stand by the glass and watch dad up-close.
game days were fun because i got to go with my best friend ella, whose daddy was also on the team.
now, ella and i were bundled up in thick pants that hid our diapers underneath, both of us wearing a jersey with our respective daddy’s name on it. we were watching the teams warm up, skating around and taking practice shots, while the goalie (ella’s daddy) stopped as many as he could.
it made sense that her daddy was goalie. you have to be calm and collected to be goaltender, and ella’s daddy, who i called mr. christopher, was the definition of calm.
my daddy was a left winger. not quite as calm, he was flying across the ice with that power and speed that i loved so much. i banged on the glass excitedly, watching him shoot and score a backhand shot when mr. chris wasn’t looking.
after the game, daddy and mr. christopher met me and ella outside the locker room.
dad was flushed and sweaty, a towel around his neck as he hauled his duffel bag over his shoulder.
“uh oh, double trouble,” he chuckled when he saw me and ella standing together.
he wrapped me up in his arms, scooping me off the ground in a big hug.
“hi little girly.”
“hi dad.” i grinned, nuzzling into his sweaty neck. the sweat never bothered me- i liked the human, familiar smell of it. “you played so well. that last shot was insane.”
dad chuckled, putting me down and ruffling my hair.
“thank you, baby, i love showing off for you. did you and ella have fun?” dad asked, watching fondly as ella and her daddy hugged and chatted about the game.
i nodded. “did you see us banging on the glass?”
he laughed. “baby, everyone could see you banging on the glass.”
i blushed and giggled.
“alright little girly, you ready to go home? dad’s exhausted. let’s order takeout, and you’re not leaving my lap all night, missy.”
“deal!” i grabbed daddy’s hand and swung it between us as we waved goodbye to our friends and started walking towards the parking lot.
“what sounds good for dinner?” dad asked, swinging our hands playfully.
“whatever you want, you’re the one who was on skates slamming into people for two hours.”
dad laughed. “it really does make me work up an appetite. pasta sound good?”
i nodded. “yummy. can we get dessert too?”
he shot me a look. “when have i ever said no to dessert?”
when we got to the car, dad looked around to make sure we were alone, then he reached down to feel my diaper through my pants. his big hand squeezed the squishy padding, and i whined at the feeling.
“goddamn, you need a change badly. how many times did you go potty during the game?”
i whined again at the blushiness of the question.
“uh uh uh, answer me,” dad insisted.
“three.”
“three? and you already had used it twice before the game?” dad gave my soggy diaper butt a playful swat, making me whimper. “such a wet little girl. i think you’ll need a change as soon as get home, huh? let’s hope you don’t leak.” dad said, opening the car door for me.
he buckled me in, and i squirmed in my wet diaper.
on the drive home, dad kept one hand on the steering wheel and one hand on my soggy diapered crotch.
“next game, you might have to be double diapered.” daddy said with an evil smile i knew too well. “if you’re gonna pee pee that much and risk leaking, it seems like the only solution”
“but daaaaad, that’s so embarrassing. people will be able to tell.” i groaned.
“is ella in double diapers?” dad asked.
i huffed. “no.”
“but you understand why you might need to be?”
i crossed my arms and hmphed again.
“hey, lose the attitude, brat,” daddy said. “now, can you tell me why you need double diapers?”
my cheeks burned, but i quietly answered daddy. “so i don’t leak.”
“that’s right. i’m trying to save you the embarrassment of leaking all over yourself.”
i knew daddy was right. then, suddenly i felt the urge to go potty again.
glancing at daddy, whose eyes were on the road, i squirmed in my seat and started to wet myself again.
i knew i was going to leak. i knew my diaper had been hanging on for dear life- all swollen and squishy and warm underneath my jeans. and now… as i released into my diaper once again, i could feel the second i started to leak.
daddy’s hand was still on my crotch, and it only took him about ten seconds to realize what was happening. my pee was soaking my jeans in a dark wet patch, my diaper maxxed out so much that it wasn’t absorbing another drop.
“oh, baby,” dad looked over at the growing wet patch on my crotch. “you really do need double diapers, don’t you?”
dad gave me his towel to put underneath my seat, but it didn’t stop the obvious smell of pee filling the car.
when we pulled into the garage, dad parked and looked at me. “stay right there. i’m going to come get you, and you’re going straight onto your changing mat, missy.”
i blushed as daddy unbuckled me and helped me out of the car. the bottom of my jeans was soaked, my overly-swollen diaper bursting underneath the denim. there was no hiding the damage.
dad let me to the bathroom and laid down my changing mat and two fresh diapers.
“did you go pee pee again on purpose, knowing you were going to flood your diaper?” daddy asked as he laid me down, stripping the wet jeans off me.
i giggled with my feet in the air. “maybe…”
“naughty girl…” daddy tsked. “but it’s not your fault, dad should’ve changed you right before the game. oh, baby, look at you.”
dad reached down to squish my diaper, amazed at how full and swollen the padding was.
“baby, this is honestly pretty impressive. i don’t think ive ever seen a diaper so full.”
“dad?” i asked, stopping him before he undid the tapes.
“what’s up?”
“can i…fill it a little more?”
dad gave me a look. “this diaper cannot hold any more pee pee, little missy.”
i giggled, kicking my legs and playing with my socked feet. “i’m not talking about peepee.”
a dark, aroused look crossed dad’s face. i could literally see his pupils dilate as he realized what i meant.
“oh? does my little girl need to go poopy?”
i nodded, sucking my thumb as he groaned. nothing made dad more feral than watching me mess myself, and i liked to take full advantage of that whenever i could.
“come sit on dad’s lap. you’re not going anywhere until you use that diaper to its full capacity.”
daddy manhandled me into his lap until i was straddling him, my squishy diaper rubbing against his hard-on. i bounced a little, enjoying the feeling of the swollen padding and dad’s erection on my princess parts.
dad groaned, head leaning back like he was in actual pain.
“you are so fucking hot, you depraved thing.”
i gave a mischevious laugh, rubbing my diaper back and forth against dad’s lap, making him moan and grunt with each movement.
his hands went to my hips, guiding me to grind faster and harder against his lap.
finally, i couldn’t wait any longer.
“dad…i can’t hold it.” i said suddenly. i leaned forward, squatting slightly on dad’s lap as i started to push. i could feel the back of my diaper expanding, and then dad’s hand was there, cupping my mess.
“holy fuck,” dad groaned, watching me, enamored as i debased myself for him.
when i was finally done pushing, i sat down on daddy’s lap, my mess squishing underneath me in a satisfying, icky squish.
“you love being dad’s gross little girl, don’t you?”
i giggled, feeling lightheaded from how turned on and relieved i felt.
“i love it more than anything in the world.”
i stood up carefully, my destroyed diaper hanging between my legs heavily.
“i love you, you little freak,” dad said, still sitting on the floor, watching me fondly as i stood there in nothing but his hockey jersey and my poopy diaper.
“i love you too.”
dad groaned again. “stay right there, princess, i need to take a picture.”
This caption was written with—and of course features—the amazingly talented @prettymuchpottytrained02. Such a cutie.
A mobile slowly spins above her crib, barely visible in the soft, warm glow of the nightlight.
Dreamy, delicate melodies of long-forgotten nursery rhymes drift from the antique music box in the corner of the nursery.
None of this made any difference to the sole occupant of the nursery.
Peanut glared at the mobile, her binkie bobbing furiously in her mouth. She dramatically kicked off her blankets in a fit of frustration at the muffled cheers invading her nursery.
It wasn’t fair!
All she wanted was to stay up one night—one night!—past her bedtime to watch the big football game with Daddy and his friends!
It was her team, too! Daddy knew how excited she was about the game.
She ruminated about how she used every tool in her arsenal to soften Daddy up over the last week. How she went to bed every night without a fuss. Gave him her best puppy-dog eyes each morning when she lay in his lap, suckling her baba.
She even picked up all the toys scattered around her nursery without Daddy asking! Daddy’s perfect angel.
Just to end up in her crib at bedtime.
Another chorus of cheers interrupted the tranquility of her nursery. She kicked her legs at the injustice of it all.
The sudden movement, so similar to the bicycle kicks Daddy insists on whenever her tummy is full of bubbles, results in a stream of toots.
“Hmpff,” she pouted, even angrier that her outburst backfired.
She folded her arms, resigned to her fate, until an idea struck her. A smirk grew behind her binky.
If Daddy wouldn’t let her watch the game, then she wouldn’t let him watch, either.
Grabbing the bars of her crib, she pulled herself to her knees. Her diapered bum floating just above her toes.
The perfect position to fill her diaper.
A series of tiny grunts and ragged breaths filled the room as she pushed, determined to load her diaper.
Her only progress after a few minutes of effort was a single, terrifying toot so loud it must have been heard in the other room.
Red-faced, frustrated, and out of breath, she throws herself flat on her back. Why was it so hard? She never has to try! Most of the time, she doesn’t know she’s pooping until her diaper gets heavy!
Lost in thought, she unconsciously fiddles with her feet, pulling them close to her face.
Suddenly, everyone in the other room cheers in unison, startling her. Before Peanut can react, her diaper crinkles softly as it expands. She reflexively grunts as her body takes over, pushing more mess into her diaper.
Peanut pulls her feet closer, unaware she’s loading her diaper.
By the time she realizes she’s pooping, she’s almost done. Her diaper was already bulging to accommodate its burden. She giggles in between grunts.
Mission accomplished.
She sits up, giggling harder as the mess spreads even more. Usually, she’d avoid mushing her mess, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
As she reaches for the latch to escape her crib, she notices her favorite stuffie watching her.
Judging her.
“Don’ judth me, Dithon,” she lisps through her paci, “Dada thtarted it!”
The enormity of Peanut’s mess is immediately obvious the moment she steps out of her crib; her diaper droops dangerously as she waddles to the door. Her shirt is far too short to cover her diaper.
Had she been less stubborn she would at least have the onesie Daddy got her for the game to support and conceal—well, at least cover—her diaper.
But no, she had to be fussy and reject it.
It takes a moment for her eyes to adjust to the bright light, though she waddles on anyway, making her way to noise down the hall, thankful it drowned out her crinkles.
She reaches the end of the hallway, heart beating fast. Not only is she not supposed to be out of bed, she isn’t particularly keen on being seen in a diaper this messy.
No matter how many times she’s been around Daddy’s friends, how many times he’s loudly announced she needed a change, how many times he’s marched her to another room for a diaper change, she still squirms being in a full diaper around them.
She quickly peeks around the corner to find Daddy and get his attention without his friends noticing. To her horror, Daddy’s friend Bailey happened to be looking right at her. She tried to hide, hoping she wasn’t seen.
“Was that you, little one? Did I see a peeking Peanut just now?”
Peanut doesn’t move. Maybe Bailey will think she was seeing things.
“I did see a peeking Peanut!” Bailey coos, finding Peanut “Everything okay, honey? Daddy put you to bed an hour ago.”
Bailey looks down at Peanut’s droopy diaper.
Unable to meet Bailey’s eyes, Peanut stares at the hardwood floor.
“Oh, poor baby, I bet that diaper doesn’t feel very good, huh? Come on, honey, let’s go find your Daddy.”
“M…m-bu,” Peanut mumbles, eyes wide at Bailey’s suggestion.
“Hush, honey,” Bailey soothed the poor girl, wrapping her in a hug and gently patting her diaper, “We need to get you out of that diaper before we have a blowout on our hands.”
A hand guides Peanut forward, out of the safety of the hallway and into the living room. She feels the eyes of everyone in the room on her—and her diaper.
“Uh oh, looks like somebody needs a change!” Jane, another of Daddy’s friends, says.
“You can say that again, poor thing. Anyone know where her Daddy is?”
“He just went to the bathroom, I’ll go get him,” Larry says.
A silence that lasts an eternity overtakes the room. Peanut tries to avoid eye contact and pretend everyone is watching the game and not the helpless baby in a poopy diaper.
“Peanut, what are you doing out of bed, hmmm?” Daddy asks as he walks over to his little one, “I was just about to check on you.”
Peanut feels Bailey pat her diaper. “Probably has something to do with this.”
The others in the room groan at the game.
“Oh, Peanut,” Daddy says distractedly, watching the game, “I’ll change you after this drive, okay?”
“No, no, no, look at her!” Bailey chastised Daddy, “Her diaper is about to fall off!”
Jane stands up, giving Daddy the evil eye before turning to Peanut, “Don’t worry little one, we won’t make you wait. Where are your diapers, sweetie?”
Peanut’s binkie bobs a bit more. “Ummm…m’nurswy.”
“Honey, you’re lucky your diaper hasn’t fallen off already. That won’t make it down the hall,” Bailey insisted, “I’ll get you out of that icky diaper right here, okay? Doesn’t a clean diapie sound nice?”
This was not the plan.
The plan was for Daddy to change her diaper in the nursery—not getting her diaper changed by Bailey right here in front of everyone!
Bailey kneels in front of Peanut with the diaper bag, looking deep into her eyes. “You have nothing to be embarrassed about, little one. It’s just a poopy diapie. Will you let us get that tushie fresh and clean?”
“M-mhm.”
Bailey tickles her tummy. “Good girl! Your Daddy always brags about his brave little Peanut.”
Somehow, despite getting her poopy diaper changed right there in front of everyone, Peanut found herself loving the attention from Jane and Bailey.
Jane made the silliest faces playing peek-a-boo while Peanut giggled in utter delight whenever Bailey blew raspberries on her tummy.
By the time Bailey carefully rolled her messy diaper into a ball and slid a fresh diaper under her, Peanut could not care less about being changed in front of everyone.
Excited, incoherent babble serenaded the room—the sounds of a happy baby having the time of her life.
“There, all clean!” Bailey said proudly, smoothing out the diaper and admiring her handiwork, “Let’s get you back to bed, cutie.”
“Bu bu wa-wan play!”
“Sorry, kiddo,” Bailey said with a twinge of disappointment, “As much as I’d love to play, it’s well past your bedtime.”
Just as Peanut was about to give up, Daddy walked over with a warm bottle of milk filled with vanilla, honey, and a dash of cinnamon.
“How can I deny Bailey some quality time with my little Peanut after she wiped her tushie clean? Peanut, if you ask Bailey nicely, maybe she’ll let you sit on her lap and hold your baba for you while we finish the game. Would you like that?”
“Yeth pwease, Dada! May I pwease Mith Baiwey? Pwetty pwease?”
“Of course, honey! I’d love that!”
The last thing Peanut remembered was laying on Bailey’s lap suckling the warm milk from her baba, as Bailey smiled down at the baby with heavy eyes.
Her wet suckles continuing a few minutes after her eyes closed for the last time.
She didn’t even stir when Daddy’s team won on a last second field goal.
Its been a while since I've posted, so Mister Fox and I wanted to say hello and remind everyone to drink lotsa water! Those nappies won't make themselves squishy, gotta hydrate! 🥰👋
I remember when she first brought me home. She was all sharp edges and sarcasm, a "big girl" who scoffed at the idea of needing anyone. She called me "childish" as she tossed me onto the bed, an afterthought, a gift from her Daddy. Back then, she wore her independence like armor: tight clothes, makeup, and a smirk that dared anyone to call her anything but grown. She had no idea what I was capable of.
It started with whispers. Just little things, really, suggestions planted in the quiet of the night. "You’re so tired of adulting, aren’t you?" "Wouldn’t it be easier to just let go?" She’d laugh it off at first, but I could see the cracks. The way her fingers lingered on the softness of my fur, the way she’d hug me a little too tight after a bad day. She didn’t know I was listening. I was always listening.
Then came the accidents. The first time, it was late, and she was half-asleep. I leaned over her, my fur against her ear as I murmured, "You don’t have to hold it, baby. Just let go." She whimpered, her body betraying her as warmth spread between her thighs. She woke to damp sheets and a mortified gasp, her face burning as Daddy chuckled and stripped the bed. "Looks like someone had an accident" he teased, and she hated how her pulse jumped at the words.
She tried to fight it, of course. Bought pads, set alarms, swore she’d never let it happen again. But I was patient. I had time. Daddy did too. He’d hold her close at night, as I murmur: "You’re such a good girl when you let go. You don’t need to be big. You don’t need to be strong." She’d wake up confused, her mind foggy, her body aching for something she couldn’t name.
The first time Daddy put her in a diaper, she trembled. She told herself it was just for fun, just a game. But we both knew the truth. The way her breath hitched as the tapes fastened, the way her hips swayed when she walked, she was made for this. The crinkle of plastic became her lullaby, the weight between her legs her comfort.
Now? Now she loves it. The crinkle of a fresh Pampers,or the way her hips wiggle when she’s soggy and helpless. She coos at her bottles, giggles when I "accidentally" knock over her block tower. The girl who once sneered at the idea of being little now curls around me at night, her thumb in her mouth, her mind blissfully empty of everything but the next time she’ll need changing.
And Daddy? He takes such good care of her. He changes her, feeds her, praises her for being such a good dumb baby. She doesn’t question it anymore. She doesn’t want to.
I watch her, as she lies there in her crib, her diaper sagging with the weight of her mess, her eyes glazed over with toddler-like bliss. She doesn’t remember the woman she used to be, who thought she was too strong to ever give in. That girl is gone. In her place is this perfect, giggling, helpless baby, her mind filled with pacifiers and lullabies, her body incapable of anything but filling her Pampers.
And I couldn’t be prouder.
She’s everything I want her to be, a good, obedient, diaper-filling baby, her mind as soft and pliable as the stuffed animal she clings to. She doesn’t question it anymore. She doesn’t want to. And why would she? She’s happy. She’s safe. She’s mine.
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She couldn’t help but pout, her lower lip protruding and quivering at the unfairness of the situation. Daddy had come and gone, but not before he had made a few changes around her apartment. He paid for it, she was his trophy, his eye candy, his girl when he was away.
His wife knew about her. He had permission. They had even all met a few times - she was a nice lady, but it was clear why he wanted her. She turned her pouting lip away from her dresser and toward the camera that was watching her from the corner of the room.
“Daddy!” She crossed her arms. "This isn’t fair!“
But she never knew if he was watching or not, never knew if he was listening.
Her bestie, the only vanilla person who knew about her “lifestyle”, was horrified at the invasion of her privacy, but she didn’t understand. She didn’t understand how completely she trusted him. How she had discovered him online, written him fanmail, worshiped him from afar - she’d never know what drew the artist’s eye, but she had it and she blissfully belonged to him.
She pointed an accusing finger at her underwear drawer, at the conspicuous lack of panties. She quickly tried the other drawers - skirts, tops… and one drawer that was locked.
“Daddy, I want my panties back!”
She knew better. He had trained her better over the years she had been playing with him, flirting with him, teasing him. Just in case, she grabbed her phone and snapped a picture of the drawer full of pull ups, sending it to him with the sobbing emoji, repeated five times.
Daddy. I want my panties back!
…
Please!
…
She stared at the dots, her heart pounding. She was goading him, he had only left yesterday. The DD/lg stuff was new. She had been his sub for almost three years now, his date to any function - he’d fly her out if there was an event out of town, but Chicago was his favorite kink town, so that’s where she lived now.
She had been his ponygirl, she had been his rubber maid, she had been bound and plugged and dragged through the dungeon by her hair… and she was the envy of every girl in the scene. She had bagged the ever reclusive Artist - they never knew that he had been “single” because his true love wasn’t kinky.
Now he wanted something new, and he was encouraging her to fight back, to taunt him, to rebel, to goad - a very different taste from the days of high protocol dinners. A new flavor of fun.
The idea of him “regressing” her had caused her to balk, but he had coaxed her into it. It wasn’t a hard limit, after all - it was a soft limit, and they were both all about finding exactly where the soft limits became absolute. She had always had a bratty streak, now she finally had permission to lean into it.
Close the drawer.
She beamed, waiting for him to reveal where her panties were - she had no idea what modifications he had made to the apartment, but he and a small crew of guys from the dungeon had worked on the place for days. So much so that she was extra pouty about how little time she got with him.
Slowly, she pushed the drawer closed, staring up at the camera.
A loud click came from her dresser, from the two top drawers. Her phone blinked to life again.
Get dressed. Including your toy.
Is that where they got to? Greedily, she opened the other drawer and spun, her jaw dropping.
“Daddy!”
The locked drawer had her toy after all… atop a stack of diapers. Pink and purple and thick, covered in cartoonish squirrels. She spun and glared at the camera, her fists balled at her sides… but inside she was thrilled. It was all part of the act - he wanted her to fight back, and so she obeyed. Just as surely as she had been his dinner plate at one function, his stool at another, his arm candy, his demonstration doll. She lived to submit to him, it fulfilled her in a way that was more satisfying that she had imagined when she was merely lusting after him.
And so she’d obediently disobey.
“Daddy no!”
His voice came from the camera. Calm, collected, cool. Confident. That was the word for him, and it practically radiated from him. He was in command of any room he entered, not by virtue of his height, nor by virtue of his build - no, it was purely with his presence.
“Obey little girl. I’m timing you. Get your toy in place and your diaper on or I’ll make you wear two.”
She shivered. The diapers were so thick, and they were new to her - he had only introduced her to this kind of play that very week. She had done depraved things in crowded streets, kneeling before him at Mardi Gras, walked naked on a leash through events, she had debased herself a thousand ways for him.
Yet her blush was genuine as she lay on the bed, her hands trembling as she squirted lube on the vibrator - not that it needed much in her excitement - and slid it inside her. She lay so her sex was fully exposed to the camera, not knowing if he was watching alone or with a friend - or even with his wife.
Gingerly, she pulled the thick padding up, grabbing the powder from the dresser and sprinkling a generous amount on herself.
At least I won’t have to use it with him away…
She needed to go already, too. Her breath short, she taped one side closed and then the other, batting her eyelashes at the camera.
“All done, Daddy.”
Silence. She waited a long time, the silent vibrator inside her, her legs spread as she waited for his word. Something had taken his attention away from her, his favorite toy, but she waited patiently… wondering if this was a test.
Was it obedience to wait patiently like a good toy? Or was it obedience to disobey…
Their game had taken on a new dimension with this turn. She waited, her hand going to the padding between her legs, rubbing gently, wishing the vibe would spring to life. It didn’t. Nor did his voice come from the camera. Her phone didn’t light up. With a pout, in nothing but a t-shirt and the diaper, she wandered toward the bathroom, wondering if she could relieve herself while he was occupied.
Only to find that the door to her bathroom was locked. The handle was new, silver where it had been brass a few days prior.
“Oh no… ”
Frantically, she tugged at the knob.
“No no no no… ” She had only wet once and it had been incredibly embarrassing, under his watchful eye. She ran back to her room, grabbing her phone.
Master, my girlfriend is coming over tonight! Please unlock the bathroom before she gets here!
Her eyes went from the camera, back to her phone, only to return quickly to the shiny, black, all-seeing eye in her bedroom. Only then did she realize her mistake.
She stared at the formal title, the one she had been calling him for years, the one that was off-limits for the moment.
Daddy! Please! I’ll be a good girl!
He had met her girlfriend. They had his blessing. She was the outlet for her more… dominant feelings. They were both switches and the struggle for dominance between the two rather submissive women amused him deeply.
…
She waited as the dots danced again, her fate hanging in the balance.
Get dressed. Shortalls and pigtails. Go pick up the dry cleaning. If you’re quick, you’ll be back before she arrives.
She gaped, pondering whether it was time to use her safeword. It was only for dire moments, they had agreed to always push each others’ soft limits. Was this a soft limit or a hard limit? She closed her eyes, assessing her feelings. A swirl of anxiety and fear… and excitement.
Yes Daddy.
She waddled to her closet, still awed by the sheer amount of childish clothing he had purchased for her - he had obviously been pondering this adventure in their relationship for a while. It was true she was uncomfortable, but wasn’t that what stretching boundaries was all about?
As she pulled the shortalls up her legs, the vibe sprang to life inside her, causing her to jump. She squeaked in a way that she was sure brought him a chuckle. The intensity reduced, but the toy stayed on, a low hum inside her diaper. Biting her lip, she fastened the buckles on the shortalls and began tying her hair back as instructed.
There was no doubt in her mind that he was watching as she did, the intensity of the vibrator increasing as she tried to tie one side before moving to the other. She found herself leaning on her dresser for support as the pleasure rolled through her. She wanted nothing more than to drop to her knees and rub furiously at her diaper, rocking and encouraging the vibrator to move against her clit just so…
But she knew that the moment she did that would be the moment that he turned it off.
After a half-dozen more tries, she finally had her hair back in pigtails, instantly dropping her apparent age by ten years. She put one finger to her mouth and bit her lip as she looked toward the camera, bending her knees and pouting.
“Did I do good, Daddy?”
She had yet to figure out what worked and what didn’t in this new flavor of their familiar game, but the rewarding buzz inside her was certainly positive reinforcement.
“Please Daddy, will you unlock the bathroom for me?”
Her phone buzzed on the dresser top.
Ask your girlfriend… or should I say your babysitter. She has access to your vibe and the bathroom. Have fun.
“Amy, can you get the door?” Amy’s mother called from upstairs. “It’ll be trick or treaters!”
“Can’t you do it?” Amy called back, scowling. She hated trick or treaters. What gave them the right to think they could go marching around banging on everybody’s doors demanding sweets?
“I’m busy! Do it quickly or you’ll miss them!”
“Ugh, fine!” Amy got up from her chair in the living room, and stomped out into the hallway and towards the front door, making sure to take her time. But by the time she reached it, she could clearly make out several large figures through the translucent glass window beside the door. Far too large to be children, in fact. Amy hesitated, but the people must have seen her outline through the glass. It would be far too awkward to turn around now. Besides, if her mum found out, she’d be furious – and Amy was relying on her for a free room since she’d finished college. She opened the door.
“Twick or tweat!”
Amy stared for a moment at the people standing before her. Two men and three women, all around her age – except for the woman dressed in the witch’s outfit, who looked a little older and stood a few steps back from the others. One of the men was dressed in a cheap-looking pirate costume complete with plastic sword and eyepatch, while the other wore a black one-piece with a skeleton design. Both of the women were dressed as matching yellow and white princesses, and all four of them had big, slightly vacant grins on their faces. Amy started to laugh.
“Aren’t you a little old to be trick of treating?” she cackled, taking in the sight of the five people dressed in costumes that looked more suited to five-year-olds. The four eager smiles slipped from the men and women’s faces, and Amy saw one of the girl’s lips tremble. But the woman dressed as a witch scowled at Amy and strode forwards.
Amy took a step back instinctively. This woman didn’t have the vacant look in her eyes that the others had. She looked more like a stern schoolteacher.
“Don’t be so cruel, young lady!” she hissed, coming right up to the doorway. “I’m taking the little ones out for some trick or treating, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t laugh at them!”
“Littles ones?” Amy laughed derisively. “They’ve all got to be in their twenties at least!”
The witch woman looked furious. “They’re just a bit special, that’s all!” she whispered waspishly.
Amy’s face reddened as she realised she must have been laughing at four mentally challenged people. But she quickly brushed her guilt and embarrassment aside. “And you just expected the rest of us to play along?” she demanded. “I was expecting to open the door to a group of children, not a load of special needs adults dressed like toddlers. This is a holiday for real ‘little ones’, not overgrown babies!”
The woman’s eyes flared, but Amy was already slamming the front door in her face. She didn’t notice as the shadow slipped in through the doorway as she turned her back. But as she stormed down the hallway, she suddenly became aware that something was pushing her legs apart, turning her walk into a waddle. She looked down and let out a squeal. Her jeans and top had gone. In their place was a sparkly pink dress, ruffled and plasticky like a cheap costume, just like the ones the two ‘special’ girls had been wearing. Sequins on her chest spelled out the words “Little Princess”.
At that moment, there was another knock on the door. Amy looked around in fear and confusion. A few seconds later, her mother came hurrying down the stairs, not even blinking at the sight of her adult daughter dressed up in an oversized little girl’s princess costume. “That’ll be Miss Hayward!” she said brightly, hurrying past Amy and opening the front door.
Amy could only stand there with a knot of anxiety in her stomach. What was happening?! Why was she dressed up like a little girl ready to head out trick or treating?!
“Happy Halloween!” her mother said as she saw the witch woman and her special needs entourage. “My, my! What pretty princesses you are! Just like my little Amy! And what a scary pirate! And a frightening skeleton too! I’d better give you all some sweeties or else I’ll be in trouble!”
Amy heard the giggles of the men and women, and saw the satisfied smile of the witch as her mother handed out candy.
“Is your little one ready to join us then?” the witch woman asked pleasantly.
Amy felt a shiver run down her spine. Join them? What did that mean? What was going on?
“Oh yes!” her mother replied, looking around. “What are you doing over there, sweetie?” she asked her daughter in a sickly-sweet voice. “You’re going trick or treating with your little classmates tonight, remember?”
“My… My…” Amy stammered. Her classmates? She realised she was trembling. Something unnatural was going on here, she was sure of it.
But her mother just chuckled, took her by the hand, and led her out the front door in her pink princess outfit for all to see. Amy tried to resist, to dig her heels into the floor, but it was as though her legs were acting on their own, following obediently after her Mummy.
“Well aren’t you a pretty little princess!” the woman called Miss Hayward cooed, but her eyes shone darkly in a way that made Amy quite sure she was fully aware of what had happened, and delighted in it. “We’re going to have so much fun tonight!”
Amy felt a trickle of pee escape her bladder and enter the bulky thing she was wearing around her waist. She could feel her warm urine soaking into it. A nappy, she thought. She was wearing a nappy. She stared in horror into the smiling face in front of her, and at that moment there was a sudden, powerful cramp in her belly. The last thing Amy saw before she screwed up her eyes was the witch woman’s smirking face staring into hers. Then she had squatted down, thrust her bottom out behind her, and started grunting loudly as an enormous, disgusting mess rushed into the back of her thickly padded pants, completely beyond her control.
“Nooo…” she sobbed as she loaded her diapers like an overgrown two-year-old, her mother and Miss Hayward smiling indulgently, and the other four adult toddlers looking down at her with dumb, vacant grins. This couldn’t be real! It couldn’t be!
“I’m sorry about this,” she heard her mother saying, and as the last of the yucky load dropped into the seat of her nappy, Amy looked up from her squatting position. “Do you mind if I go and change her before she heads out?”
“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Miss Hayward tittered, her eyes glinting maliciously as they took in the sight of Amy still squatting down in the driveway, the seat of her nappy sagging below the hem of her frilly pink dress. “I expect all our special little ones will have loads in their pants by the end of the night. Besides, I bet Amy’s no stranger to dirty diapers, is she?”
“Oh no,” her mother laughed. “I swear Amy spends half her life stomping about in poopy Pampers! Sometimes it feels like she waits until she’s in a clean nappy just so she can make a stinky in it straight away!”
The two women laughed while Amy stared at them with her mouth slightly open, still in shock at what had happened, disgusted at the sensation of the pee and poop that she had just deposited in her own pants, and terrified at what she was hearing her mother say.
She tried to speak, but her words caught in her throat and all she managed was a faint gurgling. Her mother helped her to her feet and patted her on her diapered rump as she passed her daughter over to the witch – the woman who had suddenly become Amy’s new teacher at the local special needs school. It was only once the six of them were toddling (on in Miss Hayward’s case, walking) hand in hand down the street that Amy was able to find her voice.
“Are you a witch?” she asked fretfully, her voice now high-pitched and little-girlish.
The woman chuckled. “No, silly! This is just a costume. I’m not a real witch. But I do know a little bit about magic, about the spirits that roam the land on All Hallows’ Eve, and it was your misfortune to encounter one. It decided you needed to be taught a little lesson, and I have to say I agree. I think getting to spend your days as one of my special little girls is just what you deserve!”
Amy whimpered. “How… How long?” she asked.
The woman laughed, a sweet tinkling laugh that sent a thrill of horror through Amy’s body. She turned to the girl in the pink princess dress and said, a horrible grin spreading across her face, “Only the rest of your life!”
That was when Amy started to scream.
But a large pink pacifier quickly shut her up, and she spent the rest of the evening toddling from door to door with her new teacher and her new peers, her diaper drooping lower and lower between her legs as she continued to make potty in her pants, her bladder and bowel control wiped away forever. It was how she spent the next Halloween too, and the one after that, and the one after that. Poor little Amy was a never-grow-up case, one of Miss Hayward’s sweet, special little ones, and she’d have a lifetime to reflect on her rudeness.
If it had a mouth, the spirit of Halloween would have laughed as it darted away. There were more victims to find, more people to alter – those who would abuse the spirit of this day had to be punished, and there were so, so many to choose from.
***
More content on Patreon for those who are interested.
“Boo!” Jessica shouted as she jumped out from behind the door and into the path of her little sister, who let out a terrified scream. “Hahaha! Come on Suzie, aren’t you supposed to be a big girl now? It’s Halloween! Only dumb toddlers get scared of someone shouting ‘boo’ for God’s sake. You sounded scared enough to wet your…. Oh. My. God!”
The nineteen-year-old doubled up with laughter at the sight of the growing wet stain on the front of her little sister’s skirt, while Suzie herself started to whimper and cry.
“What’s going on here?” their mother asked, appearing suddenly in the doorway. “Suzie, what’s the matter sweetie?”
“Oh nothing, mum,” Jessica answered, still laughing nastily. “Your seven-year-old daughter just pissed her fucking pants, that’s all!”
“Oh Suzie, it’s okay,” their mother cooed gently, pulling her younger daughter into a hug. “We’ll get you cleaned up. Accidents happen, sweetheart… Stop laughing, Jessica! And I don’t want you using language like that in front of your sister!”
“Sorry mum, I just can’t help it,” Jessica said, looking down at her still-crying sister with a smirk. “Maybe you were too soon to let this one out of diapers, huh?”
“That’s enough, Jessica! Get out if you’re not going to help!”
“Like I’d want to help change that little pants-wetter’s pissy undies,” Jessica scoffed, leaving the room and heading off down the corridor.
She didn’t notice as the shadow passed over her, but she stopped halfway to her room, deciding that she might as well go to the toilet herself. She smirked as she entered the bathroom and saw the pack of Goodnites under the sink – the ones that Suzie still needed at night. She knew she was probably being a little cruel to her sister, but honestly the girl was seven years old and she still peed in her pants! It was ridiculous!
Jessica slid her jeans and underwear down her legs and turned around to sit on the toilet when she suddenly felt a horrible chill run down her spine. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end and she was overcome by the feeling that something was lurking right behind her.
Immediately, she staggered forwards and spun around, instinctively tugging her panties and jeans back up and looking about fearfully. But there was nothing there. Just the toilet sitting there innocently.
The smell of pee reached her nose, and Jessica blushed crimson when she pulled down her jeans a little and saw the small wet spot on the front of her undies. It was hardly anything – just a tiny dribble, but it made her feel especially humiliated after what had just happened with Suzie. This was different though, she told herself. She’d just been interrupted while using the toilet, that’s all. It wasn’t an accident.
Jessica took a deep breath, slid her panties back down to her knees, and turned around again to plant her bare bottom on the toilet. But then it happened again. Barely a moment after she’d turned her back, there was that overwhelming sense that something was behind her. A monster.
She squealed, yanking up her underwear and trousers again and falling forwards onto the floor in her haste to look behind her. And this time, she left more than a little spot of wetness in her panties. A strong spurt of wee-wee came out of her pussy, soaking the front of her underwear and leaving a noticeable wet patch on the crotch of her jeans.
Jessica was breathing heavily, looking around, wondering what on Earth was happening. There was something lurking by the toilet, she was sure of it. But nothing appeared, and after a minute or so, she got to her feet, wrinkling her nose in disgust at the piss-stained clothes she was now wearing. The urge to pee was getting stronger and stronger, but now even the thought of trying to sit on the toilet sent a thrill of fear through her body.
She went over to the shower instead, stepping inside and, feeling utterly stupid, reaching to pull down her jeans and underwear for the third time. But this time, before she even had time to tug them down, the sense of overpowering fear came back. Her bladder let go.
Jessica stumbled back into the centre of the bathroom as the dark wet patch on her crotch blossomed outwards and streams of warm pee-pee ran down the legs of her jeans, soaking into her shoes and socks. For a moment she could only stare down at herself in disbelief and horror. But then she started crying at the top of her lungs. She’d pissed her pants. No different from Suzie. Worse. She hadn’t done it because someone had tried to jump out and scare her. She felt utterly pathetic. She was actually frightened of some stupid, imaginary potty monster!
And that was how her mother found her, Suzie in tow, blubbering like a baby with her jeans utterly drenched with pee. None of them would ever know how or why it had happened, but over the next few days, the reality of Jessica’s condition became clear. She had developed a sudden, overwhelming phobia of using the toilet, and by the time all the Halloween decorations had been taken down, her mother had had no choice but to go out and buy her nineteen-year-old daughter a large pack of adult nappies to pee and poop in.
“Is it attention? Is that what you want, Jessie?” her mother demanded as she filled Jessica’s underwear drawer with diapers. “Do you want Mummy to start wiping your little butt again?”
Jessica didn’t know which was worse – her mother’s scornful attitude, or the way her little sister kept trying to make her feel better, parroting their mother’s old words of comfort by telling her she’d “be a big girl who peed and pooped in the potty someday”, but that it was okay if she wasn’t “ready for the toilet yet and preferred to use her pants”.
Jessica wished desperately that she could use the toilet again. She cried when she wet herself and she cried when she messed herself, and she cried especially hard when her mother moved her little sister’s old diaper pail into her room, but no matter how disgusted and humiliated she felt, it wasn’t enough to get over her terror of the toilet.
The only place Jessica felt safe going potty was in her pants, and so that’s where she’d be peeing and pooping for the rest of her days. Maybe it would even teach her to be a little nicer to others.
***
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Daddy sat beside Doe, a playful glint in his eyes. "Well, well, look at my little princess, all snug in her diaper," he cooed, reaching over to gently pat her diapered bottom.
Doe squirmed a little, the diaper crinkling beneath her. She could feel herself blushing, feeling every bit the tiny baby in this moment. "D-Daddy," she stammered around her pacifier, her cheeks flushing pink
He chuckled softly, relishing in her bashful response. "Oh, my sweet girl, don't be shy. You're just a little baby, after all. Diapers are where you belong."
Doe felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment as she squirmed in her playpen. "D-Daddy, you know you... you turned me into this," she stammered through her pacifier.
Daddy chuckled softly knowing that she had asked for this, craved it, and now here she was, fully regressed and loving every moment of it. He enjoyed the effect his teasing had on her. "Oh, I know, sweetheart. It's not your fault," he said, his tone dripping with playful affection. "But you do look so cute when you blush."
Doe's pacifier muffled her response as she murmured, "Daddy, stop."
Daddy's teasing continued-. "Did my little puddle-maker make a tinkle?" he playfully inquired, gently patting the front of her damp diaper. "You're such a cute little soggy-bottomed princess."
He reached down to ruffle her hair and then leaned closer to whisper in her ear, his words a teasing caress. "You're such a big baby. I changed your messy diaper less then20 minutes ago and you are already soaked. It's almost like you're trying to fill that diaper up as much as possible, isn't it?"
Doe's cheeks flamed as she nodded, unable to meet Daddy's gaze. She felt small and vulnerable, but also strangely secure in her submission. It was a paradox she was growing to love.
"Oh, my pathetic baby," he chuckled, gently patting her diapered bottom.
Doe let out a soft, contented sigh around her pacifier. Daddy's words were like a warm embrace, wrapping around her and making her feel small. She didn't have to be an adult anymore; she could let go and simply be Daddy's cherished little one, even if that means spending hours with a soggy diaper butt.
featuring the adorable @patheticallypampered
