Baby Jennie’s Supermarket Shopping Fantasy Come True
We were standing in the checkout queue at Woolworths supermarket in Northbridge, just north of Sydney. It was a relatively quiet Sunday evening, and there were only a few customers wandering about, with no one in line behind us. The check-out chick serving the little old lady in front of us casually ran her eyes over me as I started stacking the baby powder, Vaseline and baby wipes on the moving belt. She didn’t seem fazed by my appearance, although my nervous anticipation had caused another sudden spurt of scalding-hot urine to uncontrollably jet into my already damp nappy.
Today ‘Daddy’ had dressed me in my green and white striped shortie bibbed overalls – my toddler shortalls – with the cute shoulder straps clipping to the high bib front. There was a pocket in the bib front with a pretty flower embroidered on it, with a little plastic clip attached to the top. I didn’t think the chromed snap-fasteners in the crotch of my shortalls were visible when I stood right next to the counter. I was wearing a pastel pink t-shirt underneath, my pink sneakers and some floppy white cotton ankle socks, and had my long auburn hair pulled up high on my head in a high attractive feminine ponytail, bound with a pastel-pink elastic scrunchie.
Underneath my shortalls I was heavily diapered with two of my thickest cloth nappies pinned around my hips, and two noisy rustling pairs of plastic panties over the top. The outer pair of baby panties were also pastel-pink, and if I wasn’t careful, they tended to poke out beneath the short legs of my toddler overalls. The nappies were bulky enough to distinctly pad out my rear.
‘Daddy’ always places a toddlers extra-large disposable diaper between the two layers of double-sided terry cloth before he pins my nappies in place, and after I have wet a few times, the disposable gel lining swells enormously. Add this to the six layers of bulky terrycloth between my legs, and there was no way I could walk normally. I always had to assume a wide-legged, toddler-like waddle whenever ‘Daddy’ had me safely pinned in my nappies, and it was worse when I had drenched them.
As soon as ‘Daddy’ started unloading our trolley I abandoned the task, and started fingering the variety of chocolate treats always on hand next to the checkout to tempt the children. I found one I hadn’t tried, and without asking permission, opened the wrapper and took a bite. Chewing, I looked up to find ‘Daddy’ staring at me and frowning.
What are you doing? ‘Daddy’s sharp voice was loud enough to attract the attention of both the checkout operator and the customer, who instinctively turned at the annoyed tone of his question. I froze and stopped chewing, looking guilty as I tried to hide the candy bar from his sight. Give it to me. He scowled forbiddingly and held out his hand, and I reluctantly produced the opened chocolate bar.
I was hungwy, I whined in high-pitched baby talk with my mouth full, as if I was trying to be cute. ‘Daddy’ snatched the chocolate from my hand and added to the items on the moving belt, then took a Kleenex from his pocket and held it to my lips.
Spit it out, he commanded, and I could feel my cheeks turn red with embarrassment as I spat the remaining chewed morsel into the waiting tissue. The checkout chick had finished giving the woman ahead of us her change, but they seemed frozen to the spot as ‘Daddy’ continued to scold me. I told you, no more lollies before dinner. If you need to put something in your mouth, you can just have a suck of your dummy. He reached into the bib pocket of my shortalls and took out my Nuk no. 4 pacifier, which was attached to the clip on my bib front by a length of fine pink plastic chain. He pressed the big baby soother into my open mouth, and my cheeks were burning with shame as I sucked on the latex teat of the pacifier for comfort, my head bowed and my eyes fixed on the ground.
The customer ahead of us was about to move away with her trolley of shopping, but ‘Daddy’ next question seemed to freeze her in her tracks. Have you wet your nappy yet? He crisply demanded.
I replied, I don’t know, in the sulkiest whine I could manage around my dummy. ‘Daddy’ frowned and reaching down between my legs, tugged at the front crotch piece of my shortalls until the pop-fasteners gave way. My cheeks were blazing as he raised the front piece up to my waist to reveal my bulging pink plastic baby panties, and then he slipped two searching fingers down the front of my nappy.
Oh baby! You’re wet! This nappy is saturated. I was glad there were no other people close by to observe my humiliation as ‘Daddy’ continued, Well have to change that wet nappy as soon as we get you home. He leaned down and reached between my legs to grab the dangling rear crotch piece, and he tugged me this way and that as he clipped the fasteners closed, pressing my warm wet nappy firmly against my pussy in the process.
I dared to glance up at the checkout chick, and her big brown eyes were like saucers as she stared at my heavily padded bottom in obvious fascination. When ‘Daddy’ produced his wallet it seemed to break the spell, and she started scanning the dozen items we had loaded on the bench. The old woman customer was staring at me over her shoulder as she wheeled her trolley away, shaking her head and smiling wryly as she took in my unmistakable infantile appearance.
The grinning checkout check kept stealing glances at me as she scanned our groceries, and when ‘Daddy’ handed her the money, she leaned over and whispered conspiratorially, You know we have disposable diapers that would fit someone your little girl. Maybe you- she should try those.
We already have, ‘Daddy’ replied with a rueful smile. Unfortunately she’s such a heavy wetter, the adult diapers you stock here aren’t sufficiently absorbent to keep her pants dry. We usually have to pin her in thick cloth nappies to be safe, and it seems the washing machine and drier are always running full-time in our house.
The young girl nodded in sympathy as she loaded the huge box of laundry detergent into the carry bag, then tossed in the half-dozen packets of concentrated fabric conditioner and the tub of Napisan nappy bleach. ‘Daddy’ took the heavy bag and turning to me, held it out. You can take this one for ‘Daddy’, baby. It more of an order than a suggestion, and if the young girl behind the counter had any doubts about our roles, there was certainly none remaining.
Yeth ‘Daddy’, I lisped around the pacifier clamped between my lips, and obediently took the proffered bag. ‘Daddy’ collected his receipt from the bemused girl and with a mischievous smile and a little wave, took my free hand in hiss and led me away.
Come on baby girl. Lets take you home and change that wet nappy right away. I waddled along beside him, the bulk between my thighs forcing me to assume the wide-legged rolling gait of a heavily diapered toddler. As we walked away ‘Daddy’ leaned across and said I think my little baby girl enjoyed having ‘Daddy’ scold her in public and show off her pretty plastic panties and her wet nappies. ‘Daddy’ might have to start doing this more often! He gave my padded bottom a quick pat and. Just wait till I get you home, little girl, he warned me with a sly grin. Aroused and excited, I hurried alongside him to the car.
The End of Baby Jennie’s Supermarket Shopping Fantasy Come True.
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.wettingwonderland.com/story-time/