mellow-september: “Princess, it’s time to go to shopping,” I called across the roo
mellow-september: “Princess, it’s time to go to shopping,” I called across the room to where my girlfriend was sitting on the sofa. “Put some trousers on and then we can leave, okay little one?” At home, Freya was never allowed to wear anything to cover her nappies. I always enjoyed seeing her cringe with shame whenever she saw herself in a mirror, the puffy padding around her waist acting as a humiliating reminder that she was nothing but an overgrown baby in our relationship. With its noticeable bulk and noisy crinkling, it was impossible for Freya to forget what she was wearing, even when she hadn’t wet or dirtied herself. “Um… Daddy?” she asked, blushing as she got to her feet. “What’s the matter, little angel?” I cooed patronisingly, pretending not to notice the yellow discolouration of her nappy or the way it sagged between her legs. “My… Um… My nappy needs changing.” “Someone has a soggy bum-bum, does she?” I asked, and before she could protest I’d walked over and shoved my hand down the front of her nappy, making her squeak with indignation at the sudden invasion of her privacy. “That’s quite a lot of wee-wees,” I said, enjoying the way her face flushed with humiliation as I probed the soaked padding inside her pants. “But I don’t think you’re going to leak any time soon, sweetheart. Daddy will change you when we get back.” “When we get back?!” Freya squealed, looking horrified. “Daddy, no! It’s all yucky and wet!” “I’m sorry sweetie,” I crooned in a falsely sympathetic voice. “But you’re just a baby now, and babies don’t always get their nappies changed straight away. I know it feels yucky, but pretty soon you’ll be spending more time in wet and dirty nappies than out, so you’d better get used to it.” Freya whimpered, but meekly started pulling on a pair of tight trousers (I’d made sure to throw all of her baggy ones out when her nappy training started). “Need some help, baby girl?” Freya shook her head, but I was already brushing her hands aside and pulling her trousers up her legs for her. “Such a silly little girl… I bet you can’t even get dressed without Daddy’s help, can you?” I teased, and Freya covered her face in embarrassment. I finished tugging her trousers over her nappy, and grinned when I saw how little they did to hide her heavily padded bottom. Her nappy bulged out in the back and front, making its outline clearly visible, and her shirt was far too short to conceal the plastic waistband peeking out the top. It would be immediately obvious to anyone who looked at Freya that she was wearing an enormous disposable nappy under her clothes. “There we go!” I said, and Freya moved her hands from her face to stare down at her waist in horror and disbelief. “Oh my God…” she whispered. “Daddy, please don’t make me go out like this! Everyone will see!” “Don’t be so dramatic, baby. I’m sure there’ll be plenty of other girls wearing nappies in town today. I won’t be the only man who think his girlfriend is too immature for toilets. Now come along, and stop fussing unless you want to do your shopping with a red bottom.” I took Freya’s hand and led her to the front door, fighting not to laugh when I saw how the bulk between her legs made her walk with the waddling, unsteady gait of a toddler. This was going to be a very embarrassing, very memorable shopping trip for my little girl. -- source link