Bargain – Chapter Four
I went in to find a blanket had been spread out and baby toys put onto it.
Logically figuring this was where I was going to play, I plopped myself down and got to it. Took a while to get into, really. I had very few toys to play with at all growing up. There were some dolls, but with Mommy and Daddy close by, going about what I assumed was their regular routine, I felt self-conscious about playing with them. I contented myself with some blocks and other more simple toys. As I absent-mindedly stacked blocks and built little buildings with them my bladder gave me that feeling that I had to go.
My self-consciousness increased several fold as I prepared to wet myself again, this time in the presence of my Mommy and Daddy. Remembering Mommy’s advice earlier, I wet mostly with the on-again off-again I’d had the first time but this time withheld from a full out flood. As I did my business, I got a little something extra. As I peed, I let out a small bit of gas from my other end. I blushed, as it wasn’t exactly quiet, and also because I knew what it meant.
“Mommy!” I called out. I must’ve sounded distressed, because she came in a rush.
“Yes, Cady.”
“Um… well…” I stammered, remembering my rules and trying to think of the most babyish way to say what I had to do, God this was embarrassing…
“Gots go poo-poo!” I finally sputtered out. At that moment I think the warmth from my blushing replaced the need for central heating…
Mommy took a moment to realize what I meant. I guess she was still getting used to this, too.
“Okay, sweetie, let’s get you to the potty.” Mommy took me by the hand and led me back to the bathroom I had been bathed in the previous night. To my slight relief, there wasn’t a baby potty to use in here. Instead, Mommy took off my diaper (making me blush with a comment about how wet it was already) and sat me down to do my thing. It was weird, since Mommy didn’t leave the bathroom while I went. I wasn’t surprised though, since I was supposed to be a baby.
Soon as I was done Mommy wiped me down and took me back to the nursery for a new diaper. As she taped me up, Mommy mentioned that it was time for a nap.
“But we just had breakfast!” I complained. Mommy answered with a pacifier to my mouth.
“That was a few hours ago, hon.” Were it not for the paci, I’d’ve exclaimed a loud what. As it was, I managed to squeak out a “Mmph?!” Mommy pointed to a clock on the wall and I realized that, indeed, I had been playing in the living room for a lot longer than I’d realized. How in the world had I not noticed? I didn’t resist as Mommy put my into the crib once again and lowered the bars from the ceiling. She removed the pacifier and handed me a bottle before leaving the room, promising to come back in an hour or so. I wasn’t tired, so I simply sucked on the bottle a bit. The bottle had warm milk in it again, presumably to help me actually nap. I wasn’t very tired, to be honest. My mind was still on the passage of time I’d missed.
There was only one explanation I could think of. They say “time flies when you’re having fun.” I wondered if I’d been having more fun with those baby toys than I’d realized. But that alone didn’t seem to fit. As the milk did its thing and I began gradually drifting off, I began to realize another fact I hadn’t noticed before now.
This was probably the very first day, in my entire life, where I hadn’t had to do a single damn thing. For as long as I could remember, every day before now had been filled with work of some kind. Housework, schoolwork, money work. I was usually fulfilling some responsibility or another before I’d even had breakfast. Yet here it was near midday and the only responsibility I’d had to really worry about was not pooping myself! And even then I didn’t actually have to! While obviously not thrilled with the idea, Mommy and Daddy had said during breakfast I could use my diapers for everything if I wished.
At that moment, I realized a very important fact. This morning was one of the few, if not first times that the only thing I had to concern myself with was what I wanted to do.
My bottle fell from my mouth and rolled into the railing as I fell into the most pleasant sleep I’d had in a long time.
The next week or so just flew by. With my little epiphany from the first morning still on my mind, I’d begun to actually enjoy being a big baby. I told Mommy and Daddy about what I’d come to understand and they seemed happy. And why not? Their investment (me) was already getting results.
In the time since that first day, the three of us settled into a bit of a routine. I’d wake up whenever I woke up, and as soon as I did Mommy or Daddy would come in, change my diaper (which would be plenty wet by the time I got around to calling them), then take me down for breakfast. From there, I’d play until nap time. Somewhere in that area of time I’d have to poop, but I always did that in the toilet. I had no wish to use my diapers for it if I could avoid it.
After my nap, I’d play more and probably go run errands with Mommy such as the store for dinner. Sometimes Mommy would let me help her make food. But it was always easy tasks even a toddler (such as myself) could perform.
Every meal was in the high chair with a bib and featured me being fed my food or eating just finger size bits. After dinner, my face would get washed, and the rest of me if a bath was warranted. Then I was put into jammies for bed (I’d grown particularly fond of a cute red sleeper) and set down into my crib for the night.
Mommy and Daddy’s personal routines were largely unaffected, save for sometimes involving me. Daddy would do a lot of work in his study. I made a mental note I knew I wouldn’t remember to find out what he did for a living.
He had a nice home, and could afford to pay a girl five grand to spend a month wetting herself. So he had to have something lucrative. Usually Mommy handled most of my care, though if she wasn’t around, Daddy would see to checking and changing my diapers. I got used to it, but at first it was weird having a man change my diapers. Even more so than it was having a woman do it.
Mommy and Daddy did more than just feed me and keep my pants dry, though.
Sometimes Daddy would even sit down on the floor and play with me. By the third day I’d gotten far into my role as big baby. I baby talked almost as naturally as I adult spoke (which I rarely did nowadays). So baby play came easily to me. I’d play little kid games like Candy Land and such, and sometimes Daddy’d even do the ol’ “This Little Piggy” song, running his fingers up my leg and tickling me silly when he got to the last little piggy going wee wee wee all the way home. Mommy would read me stories from various kids’ books. I was too big to sit on her lap, but often I’d lie on the couch and rest just my head there instead.
There were a couple of punishments here and there. One day I refused to let Daddy dress me in a really awful looking outfit, so he simply didn’t bother to dress me. I spent that whole day naked save my diaper and a bib at meals.
I think Daddy was as embarrassed as I was. Baby or not, I was still a average-developed nineteen year old girl sitting around his home in just her underwear (such as it was). It was obvious he was trying not to look at me that way, but every time we locked eyes he blushed and turned away.
I didn’t leave the house much, unless Mommy wanted to go to the store or something and Daddy was still working. Then I was expected to tag along.
Outside of the house, I was dressed normally and was allowed to speak as an adult. The only really babyish clothing on me outside the house was my diaper, hidden under my clothes. To neighbors who saw me, I was just a cousin or niece or whatever visiting for a month. To any who noticed and asked about my diapers, they just got told I was incontinent and had no bladder control. Ergo, diapers. A simple lie, but effective, as nobody questioned it much after that.
On my eighth day at my new home, however, the usual routine took a turn.
At first, it was the usual. Wake up, wet my diaper, call for a change, then breakfast. After breakfast was when it began. I had felt the urge to make a poopy, and got myself put onto the pot. But nothing happened. I pushed and tried but all that happened was a little bit of pee. Nobody was very happy at that, as we all knew what it meant. The rule laid down on my very first night stated that, if I don’t make a poo-poo when I say I have to, even if it isn’t on purpose, then I’m barred from using the toilet again for the next twenty-four hours. Meaning that if the need to poop came again before this time tomorrow, I was stuck making a mess in my diaper. I didn’t like that, as a messy diaper was almost guaranteed (I knew I couldn’t have avoided it the whole month…). Mommy and Daddy didn’t like it, either, as it would likely be one of them who cleaned up the inevitable.
That put us in a funk for a while, until the mail came. Some packages had come in. Mommy was happy upon seeing them. During the past week she’d taken my measurements and clothes she had ordered using them had just come in.
That brought the two of us out of our apprehensive mood, as we began sifting our way through the packages to try on what we could. Among them were cute baby style dresses (some of which were WAY to ruffley for my taste, but Mommy liked them). I tried a few of them and modeled them for Mommy and Daddy until nap time, when Mommy put me in a new pink onesie for bed.
Upon waking up, I experienced my first diaper change involving Mommy having to unsnap the onesie to get to me. When the job got finished, Mommy snapped me back up before pulling out a pair of denim overalls. I groaned. I’ve always hated overalls, ever since I was little. But I didn’t feel like spending the rest of the day naked (again), so I didn’t resist as Mommy put them on over my onesie. To the untrained eye, I was simply wearing a cute pink t-shirt underneath. I thought that was all until Mommy began putting socks and shoes on me.
“Go bye-bye?” I asked.
“Yes, sweetheart.” Mommy replied, Daddy came into the nursery and explained so Mommy could concentrate on my shoes. She was having trouble since I was playfully kicking my feet to give her a hard time.
“Neighbors across the street are having a little block party. Everyone’s invited, including us.
“Yummy! Ba-ba-Kew!” I squealed. Part of me still cringed at how childish I sounded when I spoke that way. But the other part, silly as it sounded, actually enjoyed it. When I was ready Daddy played with me so Mommy could finish getting ready. Then we were off.
The End of Bargain – Chapter Four.
If you want to read more stories about ABDL girls you can find a list here: Diaper Girls – Index
The story originally came from: https://www.dailydiapers.com/content/stories.html