Baylee the Bedwetter

Baylee took a deep breath, pushing aside her coloring book to stare up at her boyfriend nervously. “O-Okay, Daddy,” she told him. “I’m ready to try it.”

“Try what, princess?” he asked. “Do you want your blocks, or your dolls, or..?”

Baylee rolled her eyes, though she knew it wasn’t fair, exactly, to expect him to read her mind, to know what she’d been debating with herself in there, not only for today, but for weeks, ever since he’d brought it up. Still, as much as he’d seemed to want it, to be trying to convince her to do it, she would have assumed he’d kept daydreaming about it as well. Or… Did he just want her to say it, to admit it out loud?

She sighed, glancing down at her silly little schoolgirl uniform. She’d had to let him talk her into that, too, to dressing up this way after work every day before he got home, pretending she’d been off at school… And it had taken some time for him to persuade her to agree to help him redecorate the spare bedroom of their apartment into a playroom, filled with toys that, as she unpacked the boxes from Amazon, she realized were more suited for children too young to even need the uniform she spent so much time wearing.

So it shouldn’t have been a surprise when he’d brought it up the first time; that was probably on her for not anticipating it, at least a bit. She had suspected something was up, yet she’d never imagined he’d go so far as to suggest, “What do you think about trying out diapers?”

She’d said no, of course, immediately, and not even his hurt expression at how quickly she’d shot him down had changed her mind… Not for a while. The thought kept bubbling back up, however, at the strangest moments, at first in disbelief that he wanted such a thing, and then, slowly, out of curiosity, wondering how bad it would actually be, just to experiment with. And now, with Father’s Day rolling around, it only felt right to indulge him, considering she had been calling him ‘Daddy’ more often than his actual name, Gunnar, for quite some time now.

“No, Daddy,” she told him, squirming on her tummy, feeling particularly small. “I-I want to try diapers.”

His eyes lit up. “You do?! You really don’t have to, if…”

She shook her head, not wanting him to talk her out of it. “I-I want to TRY them,” she repeated. “But I have some ground rules.”

“Oh?” he smirked. “My little girl has some rules about her diapies?”

“Yes, I do,” she scowled, not appreciating the teasing right now, when she was trying to be serious. “I only want to wear them at night, after I get ready for bed.”

That was, she’d decided, the safest way to do it. He’d already made her go out in her schoolgirl uniform a few times, to some kid’s movie, and shopping, pretending to be an actual little girl while she did so… Diapers could be worn under anything, theoretically, and she didn’t want to give him the option to try that, at least not right away.

“I see,” he nodded. “My little girl is a bedwetter.”

She knew he was just saying it to get a reaction out of her, but it worked, Baylee unable to resist whining, “No, I’m not!” in response.

He snickered, patting her on the head condescendingly. “It’s all right,” he promised. “Daddy doesn’t mind… But I have a rule of my own.”

Baylee fidgeted. She’d hoped he’d be happy enough about her doing this at all that he wouldn’t push it, wouldn’t want anything more… This was a present, however, so she ought to hear him out, anyway, see what he really wanted. “Wh-What?” she asked, nibbling her bottom lip.

“Don’t do that,” he scolded gently. “That’s a bad habit, sweetie.” She rolled her eyes. “My rule, little girl, is that you only have to wear them to bed… But you’re only allowed out of them after you get up for me to get you dressed for the day.”

“Oh… kay…” Baylee agreed. It seemed like a silly condition for him to have; if she wore them when she went to sleep, when else would she change out of them other than after she woke up? Maybe, she thought, he just wanted to feel like he was in charge of the plan still. “That sounds fine.”

“Perfect,” he grinned. “I’m so glad you changed your mind, princess.”

Daddy’s Day

“So,” Kayley asked, turning around in bed to face her boyfriend, “what do you want for Daddy’s Day?”

Parker tilted his head slightly with a chuckle. “You don’t have to get me anything,” he told her. “It’s not like we have a kid or anything, so I’m not a father.”

Kayley giggled, running a finger down his bare chest. “But you’re definitely a daddy. All my friends say so.” He rolled his eyes, then let it go. She knew he didn’t like the idea of her friends talking about him, of her showing off pictures of him to them; at first, she’d assumed it was because something was up, that he had some illicit, secret family he was hiding from her. Now, she was pretty sure it was just because he was a little older than her, and thought it was strange enough that she’d been into him enough to go out with him, much less that her friends might find him attractive, too.

“I feel like we should do something,” she said. Or, more accurately, like she should do something for him… And, if he was going to continue to brush it off, as he did, and not give her any ideas, then she was just going to have to come up with something on her own.

It wasn’t that hard, really… She dressed pretty modestly, for the most part, and, while Parker said he didn’t mind, she had, at times, caught him staring at girls who didn’t, while they were out, who wore short skirts and plunging necklines… It might be fun, one time, to be one of those girls…

She pretended to drop the subject, then, as the holiday approached, brought up the idea of him meeting her at the mall on the day. They didn’t go there too terribly often, but she didn’t think it was unusual enough to raise any red flags. “You don’t have anything planned for Father’s Day, do you?” he asked anyway. “I know when that is, and I know how you are… I told you, I don’t need anything.”

“I know!” she insisted. “It’s just a Sunday, too… I thought it would be nice to get out of the house, that’s all!”

She showed up in a normal outfit for her, some jeans and a baggy t-shirt, which, to be honest in June, was starting to be a bit too warm. Any other time, she might have switched to shorts; today, she dealt with it on the drive there, knowing it would be air conditioned inside, and wanting the biggest difference when the switch happened.

They went to a couple stores together and had a quick food court lunch before Kayley announced, “There are a few things I want to look at on my own. Will you be okay by yourself for a bit?”

“I think I’ll be all right,” he smiled. “Text me when you’re ready to meet back up.”

Her hope was that she wouldn’t have to… There weren’t many other stores there he was interested in that they hadn’t already visited, so after she was ready, she planned to wander by each of them, see if she could run into him. First, however, she had to high-tail it to the closest teen clothes store. Her mother would never have let her get away with most of the outfits she saw in there when she was a teenager, and she wouldn’t have had the guts to try them anyway, but they were exactly what she was looking for.

It didn’t take long to throw together something slutty and slinky that would definitely catch Parker’s eye. She felt embarrassed paying for it, letting the cashier paw over the tiny bits of fabric, searching for the tag to scan, though she reminded herself that there was no way the girl could know they were for her… She hadn’t even tried them on, she’d been too nervous.

That waited until she was in the bathroom, heart pounding as she hung the shopping bag off the hook on the back of the stall door, slipping her purse inside it to get it out of the way. She could always wait until they got back to his place, show off her new outfit there… But that wasn’t her plan, and it wasn’t nearly as fun. She took a deep breath, pulling out the tiny crop top, and the seemingly even tinier pleated skirt. It would definitely be less warm than what she was wearing now, she mused… And it would almost definitely get her boyfriend’s attention.

Even having seen them, stealthily holding them up to herself in the store when she was sure nobody was looking, it still shocked her how small they were, after slipping out of her old clothes, pulling on the new. The skirt was so short, she was afraid she’d end up flashing her panties to the whole mall… Except, someone who walked around dressed this way probably wouldn’t bother with panties at all, would she?

That had never been a part of the plan, though now, in the moment, it felt like a good idea, like it would really drive home how dedicated she was to this ‘gift’ for Parker… And it was kind of exciting to think about. She blushed, sliding her underwear down, tossing them into the bag with the rest of her other clothes, finishing it all off by replacing her sneakers with a pair of black heels.

She barely recognized the person in the mirror over the sink, but in a good way. She giggled to herself as she started putting on the final touches, re-doing her makeup, only to be interrupted by the clearing of a throat, and the sight of a strict looking woman in a red dress looming over her, even with the heels Kayley was wearing, arms crossed.

“What do you think you’re doing, dressing like that in public, young lady?”

Kayley blushed, squirming and tugging at her clothes, feeling self-conscious again all of the sudden, before reminding herself that she was an adult, and she could dress however she wanted… And that she was doing it for Parker.

“That’s none of your business,” she sniffed, turning back to the mirror.

“Oh, it isn’t, is it?” the woman demanded, grabbing Kayley by the ear, twisting it to pull her away from her makeup, the smaller girl yelping. “I think we need to have a talk with your parents, little lady!”

Kayley was so shocked, and so determined not to let her ear get yanked off her head as the woman started to drag her away by it, that she didn’t even remember her shopping bag, with her old clothes, and her purse, until she was out of the bathroom, in the mall itself. “Let me go!” she squealed uselessly. “I am an adult! You can’t treat me this way! I can dress however I want!” But she had no way to prove that, and the woman disagreed.

“Honestly!” she scoffed, shaking her head as she stared down at Kayley. “What are you wearing under that skirt?”

Kayley’s face burned bright red. “Umm…”

“Disgusting,” the woman sighed. “Lucky for you, and your parents, I know just how to deal with your kind…”

The Father’s Day Present

“We couldn’t just talk about this in the living room?” Brook rolled her eyes, sitting down on her stepdaughter, Kennedy’s, childhood bed. Like the girl – although, that was a strange thing to think of her as, since she was barely younger than Brook – it was pretty bland, and boring… Brook might have assumed that her husband, Victor, had redecorated the room after his daughter moved out, so it could be used as a guest room, except that she’d met Kennedy, which made it much easier to believe that was how she’d wanted it even as a child. Besides, they already had another guest room.

“I don’t want to risk him coming home early and finding out,” Kennedy fussed. “That would ruin the surprise!”

Brook wasn’t sure why there needed to be any surprise… It wasn’t like this was any big deal; it was only Father’s Day. “I still don’t see why I need to think about getting anything for him,” she complained. “He’s your dad, not mine.”

“Have you not looked around the Father’s Day section in the greeting card store?” her stepdaughter asked. “There are cards for husbands there, too…”

Brook sighed, but she’d spoken to Kennedy enough to know not to bother arguing with her once she’d made her mind up. “Whatever,” she shrugged. She didn’t think that proved she owed Victor anything on Sunday… If Kennedy already had an idea for her, however, she supposed it wouldn’t hurt to hear her out.

Kennedy put her hands on her hips, glaring down at the smaller woman on her bed. “He gave you something for Mother’s Day, didn’t he?”

That was true, too, she had to admit. She squirmed slightly, slipping her phone out of the pocket of her shorts to look at it, like she tended to do when she was uncomfortable, or bored. “I guess,” she mumbled, not wanting to mention that Victor bought her things all the time, so she hadn’t thought twice about whatever it was he’d given her then… She didn’t even recall exactly what it was.

It was hard to shake the idea that, to an outside observer, it might appear that Brook was the stepdaughter here, being reprimanded by a strict, new stepmother. Their minimal difference in age didn’t help matters, nor did the fact of Kennedy being the taller of the two… Their outfits were likely the biggest factor, though, Kennedy’s professional suit easily boosting her apparent maturity well above Brook, in the shorts and t-shirt she’d lounged around the house in that day.

Little did Brook know that the illusion was about to be strengthened. “Don’t worry,” Kennedy sniffed. “I’m not asking you to go out of your way to go buy something exotic or anything…”

Brook rolled her eyes again; had Kennedy never heard of online shopping? Honestly, sometimes it really was hard to remember that the girl was younger than her. If Kennedy just told her the idea, Brook was positive she could find whatever it was, get it ordered, and have it here before Sunday.

“All you really need to do to make him happy,” Kennedy continued, reaching into her purse and pulling an object out, “is wear this.”

Brook peered up from her phone, expecting to be a little weirded out that her stepdaughter was suggesting lingerie for her, or some fetishy outfit, like a cheerleading uniform or something… And, in a way, she’d been right, although she was nowhere near prepared for what she actually saw in Kennedy’s hand. “You’re kidding, right?” she wrinkled her nose.

“Not at all,” Kennedy beamed, seemingly not picking up on Brook’s discomfort… Or not caring. “Trust me, he’ll love it.”

Last Minute

‘Happy Father’s Day to all the dads out there!’ the post read, making Shayla freeze in place, staring down at her phone. It couldn’t actually be Father’s Day already… Could it?! Last year’s had felt like just yesterday… Had this all really been going on for a full year?!

She scrolled through her feed, her sense of dread growing as she passed more and more posts saying, basically, the same thing, confirming her fears. She’d vaguely been aware that it was this month, but it was so hard to keep track of the days now, she’d completely blanked, and now she was sitting there, in her nursery, with no presents, just like last year.

Of course, in her defense, it was much more difficult for her to get him anything this year, and that was definitely his fault. She could have ordered something online, though, did her best to ensure it arrived on a day when he wouldn’t be back before the delivery trucks made their rounds… If only she’d remembered it was happening this soon.

“I’m sorry,” she rehearsed, mumbling into her pacifier. “I’m not used to this…”

But that was the same excuse she’d used the year before. She’d never really known her actual father, so this wasn’t a holiday she and her mother put a lot of stock into when she was a kid. And, even after she’d gotten married, she hadn’t thought it mattered for them. “I know there are husband cards out there,” she’d told him, “those are for couples that have kids, though, right?”

“That’s true,” he’d acknowledged, looking down at her, in her little schoolgirl uniform, thick, cotton, Dora panties hidden away under the skirt, just waiting for an inspection. “And you’re my little girl, aren’t you?”

They’d been playing for a while by then, and she did call him Daddy more often than not, having to make an effort not to do it if they were out with friends who didn’t know – the number of which was dwindling at that time, and was essentially zero now – but she hadn’t put those things together until she was standing in front of him, blushing, realizing she should have gotten him at least a Father’s Day card, and probably a present.

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” she’d sniffled, giving him a hug.

“It’s all right,” he’d replied, giving her a second to calm down. “If you really want to give me a gift, there is something we could try…”

“Okay,” she’d nodded, without thinking, even though she should have known better. They’d talked about it before, and she’d told him no… Somehow, it didn’t occur to her that might be what he was suggesting as he buckled her into the back seat of the car, drove her to the store, walking her through it, holding her hand…

She was silly enough to believe that was the extent of it. She’d been dressing up in her childish clothes more frequently at home, to the point where she almost only wore her big girl outfits if she was going shopping, or they were going out on a date. He made enough money that she didn’t need to have a job, and, after trying a couple out, she’d agreed it was for the best if she just stayed home. Every now and then, if she misbehaved, he’d make her go out this way, taking her to some fast food place, forcing her to order off the kids’ menu, talking to her like a real child… It wasn’t the craziest thing, thinking he’d accept this as his present…

Being out in public was new enough, she was more concerned with looking around, hoping she didn’t spot anyone she knew, than paying attention to where they were going. It was only when they stopped that she realized where they were, her cheeks turning bright red. “All right,” Daddy had smirked, letting go of her. “Take your pick, princess.”

“Daddy!” she’d squealed, face burning bright red, eyes darting all around them, no longer caring if she knew any of the people around… Even if they were strangers, it was humiliating for anyone to believe she – as an adult or just a schoolgirl – might need these.

“Shayla,” he’d said, calmly, but warningly, “the more you complain, the longer you’re going to be in them. Now, choose… Or I’ll choose for you. Or do you not want to give me a present at all?”

Daddy Bear

“You know the drill,” Daddy said, after giving Alana her customary welcome hug and kiss.

“Yes, Daddy,” she pouted, having hoped that, somehow, he might have forgotten about that for once. Of course, she’d known better, really… It was nice to dream, though. She unzipped her skirt, squirming out of it and draping it over the rail on her changing table, resisting the urge to toss it aside onto the floor, to pick up later, the way she would have before she’d met him. If he found her room a mess now, that meant a scolding, and probably lines; if she did that right in front of him, she suspected she’d be in for a spanking.

She still blushed as she stood in front of him, nothing more than her uniform shirt to cover her diaper, despite him having been the one to tape her into it, and to make her wear it in the first place. The shirt wasn’t even really part of a uniform, at least not one the school imposed on her – were there colleges that required uniforms? – but, since he required her to wear it, that was how she thought of it.

And, like most of the clothes she was allowed to wear outside, it was technically a school uniform. He’d bought her plenty, in a variety of styles, to emphasize her immaturity, make it all the more likely somebody at the store would ask her where her Mommy was, or that security would keep an extra close eye on her, in case she was there to shoplift. It wasn’t uncommon at all, when they were out together, for people to mistake them for a real father and daughter, and she was forbidden to correct them. If he thought it needed to be done, he would do it himself… Usually, he was all too happy to keep up the illusion.

It was strange how much she liked it all. She’d been so excited to move away to college, away from her overbearing mother… And now, not even two full years later, she was happily giving up more control than ever to him. She knew it was probably because she’d never known her real father, and had some deep urge for the kind of paternal attention and discipline he gave her, yet that didn’t stop it from being funny to her how quickly she’d given in.

She’d met him at a bar, near the middle of her sophomore year; he hadn’t been fooled by her for a second. “You’re not old enough to be in here, are you?” he’d asked, and, already buzzed, she’d showed off her fake ID. She could have ignored him, or pointed out the bartender hadn’t had any problems serving her… If she’d been a little more sober, she might have done either. He was just some random guy at a bar, she didn’t owe him an explanation…

“Well, this is clearly fake,” he’d said, pocketing it.

“Hey, give that back!” she’d whined. “You can’t just take it! It’s mine!”

“Not here,” he’d told her. “We’ll have to go somewhere else.”

Even drunk, she knew better than to do that, so she’d pouted, glaring daggers at him, and gone back for another drink. Despite having given her several already that night, and a lot more on previous nights, without her ID to give them at least a modicum of deniability, she was cut off, and, after a couple attempts to butter up other customers, she’d trudged back to him, tail between her legs.

“Fine,” she’d crossed her arms. “Where do you want to go?”

She knew it was a dumb idea, and a good way to get murdered, but she couldn’t afford another ID, and she thought she could take care of herself. She’d gotten her first spanking that night, along with a lecture about how silly it really had been to follow a stranger to wherever he wanted to take her, although he’d had the decency to let her keep her skirt and panties on for it… That time.

The Surprise

It was technically lying, but, since it was for a good cause, Claire was pretty sure it didn’t count. “I’m developing photos in there,” she told her boyfriend. “You can’t go in there.”

It wasn’t a perfect lie, though she’d done her best by blocking out the windows, and the top of bottom of the door, and making sure not to go in anytime he was around. She knew most people who developed their own pictures at home used a bathroom, or somewhere else small, with no windows to begin with, but she hoped Brandon wasn’t aware of that, or that he thought she wasn’t.

Luckily, he never asked her about it, just accepted it; and why not, really? It was a spare room, one they never used, despite constantly coming up with ideas for it. He’d thought about making it into a home gym, she mentioned a library, to get the bookshelves out of the living room and make more space in there, and neither had done anything to make either idea, or any other that sprang to mind, a reality.

Until now. It was a bit surprising to Claire that she was the one that was finally doing something, as she’d always assumed Brandon would get motivated more quickly, though, really, she was doing it for him. While it would have been cool to have her own darkroom, she’d decided, for Father’s Day that year, to give Brandon something she knew he’d always wanted.

She wanted to start small, to make sure he was going to like it first before diving in completely. There were plenty of things she could have gotten to begin, but she thought a changing table would make the most sense… She was sure he would have enjoyed a crib, too, though, really, would he want her sleeping somewhere else? It would probably be mostly for show, or just playing… A changing table was something she could see being more useful during that play, and, if he really liked it, they could always put in a crib, and whatever else he wanted.

From there, she went to work decorating the room, adding in some stuffed animals, and cute, childish wall art, and stocking the shelves under, and by, the changing table with supplies. She’d never really indulged him much, so she didn’t know how often he’d want to use this stuff, but she wanted this to last for a while without him having to worry about getting anything else.

Once all of that was ready, it was time to set the groundwork. She didn’t want to make it too obvious what she was doing, so she kept the accidents small at first, trying to make sure he got a glimpse before she rushed off to the bathroom, returning in different pants. Then, she hid, badly, but intentionally, a package of Goodnites in her dresser, even wearing them around him in the evenings, waiting for him to comment.

He did, finally, though not at all in the way she expected. One day, he came home from work, another woman, with a doctor’s coat and stethoscope on, in tow. “H-Hello,” Claire blushed, suddenly feeling very conscious of the Goodnite she’d already changed into as she rounded the corner into the living room and found a stranger there.

“I know you’ve been having some problems lately,” Brandon told her, “and that you seemed to be pretty embarrassed about them, so I thought I’d bring someone to make sure you were all right.”

On one hand, Claire was glad he actually had noticed; on the other, she didn’t particularly want to be given an exam, especially when there was nothing for it to show, and every chance it would blow her little story. Before she could think of what to say, Brandon was heading down the hall. “We can do it in here,” he announced, waving Claire and the strange woman on.

Claire wasn’t sure where he was going at first, until his hand closed around the nursery’s doorknob. “Wait…” she began to say, too late. He pushed it open and stepped inside, making way for the doctor and giving no indication that he was shocked at how Claire had changed it, or that it wasn’t set up for developing photos after all. Claire stepped sheepishly inside, wondering if she should yell, “Surprise!” and give her explanation, even though it wasn’t Father’s Day yet.

Instead, the other woman ordered, “Strip,” glaring at Claire in a way that made it obvious she wasn’t going to tolerate any delays. Almost without thinking, Claire did as she was told, slipping out of her clothes, blushing and trying to keep as much of herself covered as possible. “That’s enough,” the doctor stopped her when she was down to her Goodnite. “Here, maybe this will help you feel more comfortable…” she said, tying a bib around the girl’s neck, one that did not at all do that, since it covered none of her. “Now, up on the table…”

Claire took a step closer to the changing table, then turned back to Brandon. “I’m not really sick,” she told him. “I was just…”

“All right,” the woman shook her head, grabbing Claire’s hands and shoving thick, pink mittens over them before pulling her over to the table, “if you’re not going to cooperate, we can do this the hard way, young lady.”

“Hey!” Claire squealed as she was yanked onto the changing table, her hands held above her head. To her shock, the woman grabbed something from the corner of the table, fastening it around her wrist and locking it into place before doing the same with the other wrist. Claire frowned, tugging experimentally, then squirming, heart beating a little faster at the realization that she’d just been tied to the table, held down by something she was sure hadn’t been there the last time she’d worked on this room. If the table came with these restraints, she’d somehow not noticed them until now, despite this stranger, who had never been in the house before, let alone this room, knowing exactly where they were.

Then, the exam began, with the doctor running her cold stethoscope over Claire’s naked, vulnerable body, following it up with poking, latex-glove-clad fingers, while Brandon watched the whole thing, bemused. Claire blushed, trying to look away, only to start noticing more things here that she was positive she hadn’t put there, like an enema bag, a paddle, a Hitachi…

Slowly, it dawned on her what had happened, that Brandon must have snuck into this room, despite her telling him not to, realized what it was for, and decided to add some things of his own… This ‘doctor’, if she really even was one, was just another addition.

“Well, I think I’ve found the reason for her wetting problems,” she spoke up, turning to Brandon, as if Claire wasn’t still lying on the table in front of her – or, more appropriately, like she was just a child, so her opinion on the matter didn’t count. “I’m afraid there’s no cure… It’s a good thing you’re prepared to deal with it.”

She pulled out a pair of scissors and began slicing into the sides of the Goodnite, while Claire watched nervously. On one hand, Claire was glad Brandon liked his gift, that he was already ‘playing’ with it… On the other, she’d assumed he would be the one to do this, to put her in her first diaper, to treat her like a little girl… Then again, she supposed it made sense, given what she’d been doing lately to try to get him ready for the ‘surprise’.

“Now, pay attention,” the doctor told Brandon, pulling a diaper from beneath the table, Claire’s heart thumping as she saw it, knowing that it was about to go on her. It looked much thicker than it had when she’d put it there, now that it was moments away from getting taped around her waist. “You’re going to have to be doing this for a very long time, I think…”