Dont worry, my sweet little doll, Daddys kind words rumbled within my memory. Youre not the one in control anymore, remember? So no matter what happens, sweetie, just let it go&
Oh, how hard it was to do just that. For so many years, Id been taught that the key to success, to happiness - to life itself - lay in taking control. Control your finances, your friendships, your emotions, your own body. Do all that, and you would be a success. Fail, however, and you would be nothing but an abject loser, spiraling downward into failure and well-deserved ridicule&
And then Id met my Daddy. Hed taught me so much about life: how mindless pursuit of control was itself a pathetic loss of autonomy; how real power lay in allowing oneself to accept and release power as easily and naturally as the pulsing tides; how that in yielding up power, one found true freedom and peace. All that he had helped me to discover, and more. Yet old habits persist, and old mentalities even more so.
Here I was this rainy afternoon, dressed up in my pretty new party frock and triple petticoats, dolled up and diapered up as much as any obedient little girl dolly could want. Oh, yes, diapered; Daddy had particularly insisted on me yielding up all control, even over my toileting. And he had been right, too. Id been mortified the first few times hes gently but firmly forced me to soak and soil myself, but the waves of delicious surrender that always came in its wake were unlike anything Id ever felt before&
And so yes - I was now diapered thickly under my frilly skirt, those tripled layers of fluffy padding ensuring that I would waddle prettily for my Daddy whenever he came back home. Ensuring, too, that thanks to my mandated constant fluid intake, I wouldnt leak and leave puddles everywhere&
That was the idea, anyway. But here I was, barely five hours into my day, and already I was feeling those telltale seeping feelings of an imminent leak. One more flood, and my lovely thick diapers, soggy to the point of failure, would start trickling warm pee down my shaved legs and into my lacy white socks. Couldnt I just try to hold it? I hated that feeling of a leaking diaper so much. Surely it couldnt hurt to hold on just a little longer. Daddy would be home in a few hours, and I could beg him to change me before I leaked&
And thats when Daddys words echoed within me. You are my little diapered dolly now, hed told me sweetly, patronizingly. No matter what, youre not in control right now, okay? Daddy will diaper you, dress you, change you, make your meals. You want total freedom, sweetie. And only by giving me all your control will you find it&
He was right. I flushed, mind suddenly made up, and leaned against the wall, unconsciously thrusting out my round little diapered bottom under my skimpy little skirt. Daddy was right. No control - that was my lot now. And that meant wetting uncontrollably, no matter what. Leaks or no leaks, I wasnt allowed to care. Daddy would care. Daddy would take care of everything&and so I relaxed.
And as the warm flood swelled into my saturated padding and I felt the first warm streams tickling my legs, I simultaneously sensed a smile blossoming on my face. Oopsie, guess Daddys going to have to clean me up tonight! Im such a good, wet little diapered dolly, arent I?
Image Credit: @062dia75 of Twitter
Please dont remove my caption; if you do, may you get lots of nasty sock fuzz stuck between your toes.
Look at you! So cute in your big puffy diaper!
Huh? Why are you crying? Is mommy teasing you too much? Come here sweetie.
Mommy loves and adores you. Shes gonna keep you in a big thick diapee and make you into a cute baby.