Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

As your boyfriend, Kylar had begun to frequent your bedroom at the orphanage quite often. You'd gotten into the habit of always leaving it nice and tidy every time you left, because you never knew when you would find him around town and inevitably end up bringing him home...and because you were hiding something. Not just from your boyfriend--from everyone.

It was no secret your life was stressful. That much was obvious to any. But the way you dealt with your stress was another story. 

"Um..."

You paused when you reached your door. Usually you rushed to usher him in. His brow knit in confusion and a bit of worry, but he attempted not to jump to self-deprecating conclusions and panic. "W-what is it, my love?"

"I thought we could do something different today," you confessed, finally turning the doorknob and stepping aside so he could move in. 

He waited until you'd closed the door to reassure you, now able to speak a little louder than a whisper, "A-anything! We can do a-anything you want." 

You'd worked him up before bringing him here because you hadn't the courage to share your secret until just moments ago. Now, you were attempting to push past your usual anxiety and to be a little more spontaneous for once: You'd been trying that lately, for both of your sakes. Still, you couldn't help but be nervous because, "I'm not sure if you'll like it, though."

Wanting to touch you--to be close, to feel you, to reassure you--Kylar quickly closed the gap between the two of you, wrapping his arms around your waist. "I'll like a-anything if it's with you."

Despite your shyness, you couldn't help but feel enamored by how eager he was to show he'd accept you no matter what. You braced your hands upon his wrists, covered in tattered arm warmers, striped green and black and caging you in with him. You wanted to remain far enough apart that you could see his expression when you told him. 

It's just...you didn't know how to tell him. Suddenly, you felt a bit woozy at the prospect, and wondered if you should just make up something else on the spot. The two of you had never tried anal--maybe you could use that: You'd fuck, he'd go home, and the next day would play out same as all the rest. Nothing would change and you could go on happily knowing you didn't weird out the only person who was ever genuinely into you for you. 

"Sorry," you pulled away from his embrace. Even as it tightened in protest, you pushed away his grabby hands and sat down on the edge of your bed. "Can we just talk for a minute instead?" 

"Y-you're worrying me, my love. What's the m-mat-matter?" Kylar quickly joined you at your side. He took your hand in his. You looked down at how his thumb carefully ran back and forth over it to soothe you, watching as the glossy black nail polish occasionally caught the sunset filtering in through the window. "You're acting s-s-strange. D-Did I do s-something wr-wro-wrong?"

His stuttering was getting worse and you could tell your anxiety had already infected him. That wasn't your intention at all, but this was so damned difficult... 

...you shook your head 'no.'

"Then...then, what?" 

You were grateful he was so patient with you. Yes, you got loud and rowdy when the two of you played games together at the arcade or got in 'who would win' debates about your favorite anime rivals at the lunchroom table, but this was different. You didn't have your interests to hide behind right now and you felt vulnerable. 

The same way you felt when you started to sink into that--

"You know how you...um, always talk about how..." He usually said it, not you. It was more embarrassing than you thought it would be, and you gulped. "How...I'd be a good," your voice dropped down to something barely louder than a whisper, "mummy?" 

Kylar stopped caressing you with his thumb, his eyes big and wide as he stared at you, unblinking. "Yeah?" 

You couldn't just outright say you were a little! And you didn't think you were up to explaining all the psychology behind regression, or the comfort you secretly took in it, either...this was the only way you knew how to confess: In a careful way, but in a way you could quickly back out of if you sensed he was uncomfortable.

"I was wondering about how you'd be as a daddy."

Without missing a beat, Kylar squeezed your hand and launched into a sales pitch: "I'd be a great daddy! I--I, I, I, I'd do everything! I'd take c-care of the baby, and you, of course. You wouldn't have to w-worry about m-money or food or clothes or a-anything! We could...we could..."

His enthusiasm died down, however, when he realized he hadn't yet brought you to his place, and the orphanage wasn't exactly the best place to raise a family, either. There were still lots of blanks to fill in. 

"... well, I--I don't know how it would work just yet but I'm sure we could figure something out! Together!" 

You smiled weakly. His response was sweet, but you didn't know where to take the conversation from here. It wasn't like you were--

"Wait. Wait, wait, wait, wait."  Kylar shifted on the edge of the bed, eyes growing and possibly wider as he turned towards you and took your other hand in his. "Are you--?" 

"N-no," you quickly pushed out, knowing where his mind had probably jumped to. "I'm not pregnant."

Yet, anyway.

Thank God. 

His tense shoulders fell and you weren't sure if he was relieved or disappointed. Either way, you would have to say something more soon. "Kylar, um... how would you feel if I started calling you 'Daddy?'" 

"O-oh. Ohh," He laughed shakily, finally ducking his head and blinking a few times as though to catch up on all those he had missed while staring at you, "I-is that what this is about?" 

Yes; in a way, you thought. Nervously, you chewed on your bottom lip, remaining silent while allowing him to do a legwork of connecting the dots.

"You w-wanna call me 'D-Daddy' while we're...o-okay. Okay." He nodded, sucked in a deep breath and lifted up his head. "Okay, yeah. Of c-course! I don't mind." 

"But do you like it?" You questioned, searching for signs in his expression and posture that he did. When his face gave little away, you turned your gaze downward, which you knew would be more blunt. 

He was, indeed, erect in his bondage shorts.

"Y-yeah. I mean, you could call me a-any-anything and I'd like it. Love it, even." 

"Okay...," you paused,  not for dramatic effect, but because you were still working up the courage to say it for real for the first time, "...Daddy." 

You felt your cheeks burn. His did the same, and it apparently was enough to push him over the edge. He shoved you down onto the bed and crawled on top of you while kissing you sloppily. He ended up throwing his arm warmers aside and fingerfucking you into the bed just moments later, mumbling repeatedly how much he loved you and how perfect you were. You returned the sentiment, and when his fingers found that special, cushiony spot up inside you and pressed, you squirted all over his hand while squealing, "Daddy!" louder than you probably should've. 

It was your new addiction: Once you said it, you couldn't stop. He kept asking you to repeat it as he hastily tugged down his shorts and mounted you raw.

You did. It wasn't what you had been thinking, but it was a start. And by the time he was balls deep inside you, calling you a good mummy, you weren't thinking much at all. 

"Good girl," you gasped, fighting to open your eyes and meet his gaze. It was glossed over in ecstasy, his mouth hanging open in concentration. All that seemed to be on his mind was fucking you, not what you meant. "C-call me a good girl," you clarified. 

"Oh. Ohhh," Kylar half-moaned, half-laughed, ducking his head and working his bony hips faster as he finally got it. "Good girl. Good girl!"

"Yes, Daddy!" Your legs wrapped around his waist while your arms tightened around his neck, keeping him close, "Your good little girl!" Almost like you were afraid he'd pull away the more you said.

But in reality, the words had the opposite effect on him: Kylar's hips stuttered and he gasped, squeezing his eyes shut. You leaned up to capture his lips in a kiss, letting him lazily ride out his orgasm until it was over. He'd made you all messy inside, but you didn't care. You were too busy replaying his words in your head over and over. 

After he'd given you a clitoral orgasm, the two of you cuddled. You thought about showing him what was under your bed--what you had meant to share with him all this time--but you just couldn't do it. Everything was too nice, things were too pleasant, and you didn't want to ruin them by confessing about your age regression. 

And as you finally came down from your high, you started to wonder: maybe you had done this all wrong. Maybe now that you had turned this into a sex thing, he was going to be even more weirded out when you finally told him the truth.

Suddenly, the pleasant afterglow began to quickly fade, and when he gave your cheek a kiss and lifted away, it was your turn to reach out and take hold of his wrist. You wanted to stop him, but then he said, "They're waiting for me. I--I have to go."

You knew you couldn't stop him, no matter how much you needed more reassurance. You could feel yourself slipping younger and younger by the second the farther he got from you, quickly spiraling to a depth that even you, yourself, frankly didn't still fully understand.

You sat up in bed and watched him get dressed. He promised he could sneak out on his own and you believed him, remaining bared in bed until he closed your door. You hurried to your window and watched him leave. Then, you wrapped a towel around your waist and went to the bathroom to bathe and cry. 

It helped a little. 

Afterwards, you returned to your bedroom and opened up your dresser. You put on a pretty baby doll you wish you would have worn for him instead, and picked up the owl plush he had so thoughtfully gifted you. To free up your hands, you placed it on your bed face down, then crouched to pull out the box hiding beneath the mattress.

It was your special box, full of what you had accumulated for your regression: There wasn't much in there yet--money was always tight. You didn't use them carelessly, but tonight you were feeling dire. Without feeling like you had much of a choice but to indulge, you pulled on one of the adult-sized diapers that'd been folded up within.

As soon as the plush material wrapped around your lower half, you felt safer. After pushing the box back under the bed, you crawled under your covers. The owl plush took comfort in your arms, just as you did from snuggling it.

"Goodnight, Daddy," you whispered, pretending it was Kylar. "I love you soooo much!" 

It was all only a fantasy for now, but even if things could never go further than this, at least you could still call him 'Daddy.'

Chapter Text

'Wake up, My Love.'

You yearned to have Kylar greet you with those words the next morning. Feeling worn and achy, you pushed yourself out of bed, rubbing your eyes and looking down at the owl plush you slept with. After giving it one last squeeze, you left it lying with the sheets and made to get dressed for school.

Your diaper remained unused, but you really liked the secure feeling of coverage it gave you. It would be risky, but maybe...? 

You went to relieve yourself in the wash closet proper and brush your teeth. Afterwards, you looked at yourself in the mirror, lifting up the hem of your school skirt to see how far it would take to reveal the diaper. The other students were massive perverts, but ever since you started dating Kylar, people had mostly stopped talking to you. For the better, you thought.

Still, there was Whitney, who never missed an opportunity to bully you...but as long as you avoided him, you were sure it would be all right: That, and honestly, wearing a cute diaper to school under your skirt was exhilerating. 

"Good morning, My Love!" 

Kylar rushed over to you the moment you stepped foot into the front courtyard, making a big scene of greeting you in front of all the other students.

It made you happy to be so loved, and you welcomed him into your arms with a big hug. "Hi."

Glancing over his shoulder, you spotted Whitney hovering near the entrance. It made you nervous. You quickly averted your gaze so that it wouldn't meet his, instead looking down at Kylar. He'd latched onto your arm and was babbling something about the owl plush.

"...and make sure to keep it r-real high, okay? So it can w-watch over you when I'm not there! That's very important!" 

"But I need to sleep with it when you're not there," you pointed out with a shy smile. 

Kylar blushed. "Then maybe I need to get you another one! O-one for watching and one for sleeping!"

Whitney turned away as he was greeted by someone else, and you took that as your opportunity to pick up your pace and quickly move past him and through the front doors. You hoped your skirt didn't flutter too much in your haste. 

"I wouldn't be opposed to more plushies," you admitted. Your little self adored anything huggable, of which there wasn't much in the orphanage...save for Robin. Who'd you'd been seeing a lot less lately.

Kylar, unaware of your thoughts, agreed and laughed awkwardly, almost like he was forcing himself to appear 'normal.' It was a little strange--then again, so was he, and you didn't think much of it anymore.

But classtime had arrived. You said your goodbyes at the Science door with a little peck on the lips. Kylar walked away backwards, waving excessively at you until he'd bumped into the wall at the end of the hallway and knocked his head. You watched to make sure he was okay, but after grimacing and giving it a little rub, he gave you a thumbs up and seemed just fine. You walked into the classroom before he could get himself into any more trouble trying to watch you. 

You kept to yourself in class as usual, but it was a little distracting knowing what you were wearing underneath your clothes. You had never been so daring before, and even though it was a little anxiety-inducing, it was exciting, too. You were flaunting your secret and no one even knew it. 

Your mind wandered farther in Math when Whitney sauntered in. You knew he couldn't get to you in front of River, but would you be safe getting to your next class? You imagined him flipping up your skirt and revealing your diaper to everyone on the way out.

What would the bullies even do? Call you a baby? Your cheeks grew hot at the prospect: You wished Kylar would call you 'baby.' 

But Whitney seemed distracted and paid you no mind today. It was like a miracle, and you quickly made your way to the best period of the day: the one you shared with Kylar. 

As usual, he settled into the desk next to you. You scoot yours a little bit closer to his. He smiled at you and you smiled back, b ut shifted in your seat, feeling a little itchy. Could he hear the crinkling of your diaper over the chatter of the other students? 

Afterwards, the two of you walked together to the canteen. He distracted you from your more dangerous thoughts, instead pointing out the parallels between the literature you were reading in English class and one of his favorite anime. Not only did you listen intently, but eagerly joined in to the conversation over your trays of food, unable to resist the chance to nerd out. It was nice to have someone you had so much in common with, and it distracted you from everything else. At least for a little while. 

But then came your time in the courtyard. Kylar made his way to his usual tree stump and eagerly motioned for you to join him. No matter how skinny he was, there wasn't room for the two of you on there. You were about to politely decline once you approached, but he gave you no choice and pulled you down into his lap.

You squealed, making a scene and wriggling about just like he'd wanted. Some of the other students lingering around the courtyard turned to look, and you heard snickers followed by whispers. A plump boy jeered, and someone else snapped that you and Kylar needed to 'get a room.'

You turned towards him, reaching down to try and pry his arms off from around your waist, but he was surprisingly strong and it was impossible. "Da~ddyyyy!" You hissed in a whisper, giving the new nickname a try. 

Kylar immediately blushed and hid his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent. "I like when you call me that," he mumbled, words vibrating against your skin just above your school uniform's collar. But you couldn't feel his forming erection thanks to the padding of your diaper. "If you say it louder, someone might think I kn-knocked you up. Rumors will start."

You liked that, too, but it hadn't been what you'd been thinking of. You wiggled again in his lap, the crinkling of the diaper deafening to you...but to you alone, apparently: Kylar was much too focused on slurping at your neck and giving you a new hickey to show off.

"We could go to the bathroom...," he suggested, "...it wo-won't take long, I promise."

"Not today," you replied, biting your lip as you heard him sigh heavily in disappointment. As consolation, you let him suck and nibble at your neck until the free period was at its end. 

He walked you to the girl's room, raising his eyebrows hopefully, but you shook your head 'no' before freeing yourself from his grasp and ducking into a stall on your own. You knew he was waiting outside, and he could get targeted while alone (especially lurking around the girl's room), so you made to hurry and relieve yourself: Into the toilet, not the diaper. 

You'd almost made it the entire day without anyone noticing, including him, but you didn't exactly know how you felt about that fact.

After History, which passed by uneventfully after Kylar had delivered you to it, you made it to swimming class--unaccosted by some sort of mythical grace. You hid in a changing stall to take off your clothes so no one would see your choice of undergarments, and folded them up neatly in between your others and placed the pile in your locker. 

Your luck didn't carry into the pool: Some bullies took advantage of Mason busily scolding another student to pick on you, making fun of your choice of school swimsuit. As if they looked any better, you thought, but did not say. 

You wished Kylar was here with you. He'd be so cute in a swimsuit, even the school-issued one. Ignoring the catcalls and whispers directed towards you for the rest of the period, you imagined him holding your hands in the shallow end of the pool and teaching you how to swim. Or maybe something even simpler for a little one, like treading water or floating. You'd kick and splash about, relying on him to tell you everything you needed to do, and he'd praise you when you got it right.

You barely remembered your parents and life in this town was cruel. You craved a caregiver to escape it all, and the only person you trusted to provide you that was your boyfriend. You wanted it so bad, and deep down, you knew he would probably do anything you wanted, no matter how weird...but it was still scary, asking for something like that. 

You supposed you would just have to keep tricking him into it without confessing--little things, like being able to call him 'Daddy.' Asking for more plushies and maybe even prodding for more whimsical gifts to add to your special box. Perhaps you could even get him to spank you next time you two were intimate, that would be something...

...A guilt settled into your heart as you made your way back to the girl's locker room. You really shouldn't be keeping this from him--especially if you were starting to involve him in it without him knowing--but it's not like he'd told you everything about himself, either! He hadn't even taken you to his house yet, or said a word about his own parents! 

You pulled the diaper back up your legs. You hadn't any baby powder or anything like that, and going back to the dry, padded diaper after the swimsuit was admittedly uncomfortable. The growing itch that was starting to torment you told you that you hadn't worn the diaper correctly.

Well, you'd learned your lesson, but it had been worth the thrill. Unsure of whether or not you should be thankful nothing came of it, you left school. 

Whitney was guarding the gate, and unlike in the morning time, he was giving you his full attention, leering at you from across the courtyard. 

Chapter Text

"Hey, Slut." Whitney pushed away from the gate and stood right in front of you, blocking your way. He lifted his cigarette away from his lips and grinned. "Where's your creepy little girlfriend?"

Your face hardened into an expression you hoped was indifferent, not wanting to provoke him. You took a step off to the side, but he mimicked the action, following you. A small crowd of his mates was already starting to form, closing in. Frantically, you searched for an opening: you had gotten through the entire day without much humiliation, couldn't you just get off the grounds? Freedom was so close! 

"I'm talking to you!" Whitney snatched the front of your shirt, tearing off one of its buttons in the process.

Great. 

Your gaze shifted from where the button had rolled across the cement up to Whitney's face, half covered by a shock of blond hair. You usually tried not to look directly at him. He was attractive, popular for some godforsaken reason, and everything you'd never be. 

Including awful. You'd never sink to his lows, no matter how much you disliked him. Replying would only be playing his game, and it would only make him want to get even more out of you. But...

"Say something!" 

...He was getting impatient, and that was scary.

"Sorry," burst forth from your lips.

His expression surprisingly softened at your apology--maybe it took him aback--but he shoved you away fast enough that he hoped you couldn't've noticed. "Learn better manners."

You went stumbling backwards, and with nothing to catch your balance, you fell, legs spread wide. The crowd erupted, and in your terror, you noticed a couple of them had already pulled out their phones and pointed their cameras at you.

You snapped your legs shut and scrambled to get back up to your feet. Now frightened for your wellbeing, you looked to Whitney, who wasn't laughing with the others, but was staring at you with a really strange expression--something between disgust and arousal.

You bolted before he could do anything worse. 

"You owe me tomorrow!" You heard him call after you.

You ran until you could turn the corner, your heart hammering in your chest. You had a stitch in your side, the itch between your legs was even worse from all your sudden activity, and a looming dread of tomorrow was settling in. But when you made it home and saw Robin looking rather broken in spirit, trudging up the stairs to his room, you knew you shouldn't feel too sorry for yourself, all things considered.

You called out to him in greeting, but he didn't return it. You tried not to think too much about why, and made your way to the bathroom to get rid of the thing now causing you discomfort.

The diaper found itself in the communal trash can in there, mixed with lots of other hideous things. You hoped there was no way anyone could tell it belonged to you, and made an effort to push it down deep with a wad of toilet paper.

You heard children's voices shouting from down the hall and it set you on edge. Upon exiting the bathroom, now commando, you bumped right into Bailey. He glared down at you and you instinctually shrunk back into yourself and apologized again, but he pushed past you without saying anything in return, instead yelling something at the noisy kids. Perhaps he was breaking up a fight.

All the chaos was making you dizzy, and suddenly it all felt like too much: You owed Bailey more and more money every week, teachers demanded your time and attention all day long, and Whitney had asked for some kind of apology for an infraction you didn't commit. It never seemed to end.

Without even bothering to put new panties on, you rushed back out of the orphanage, desperate to find Kylar out and about somewhere while it was still light out. Everything suddenly seemed so big. The street signs towered over your head and, in your panic, the text on them stopped making much sense. You couldn't figure out where you were going, but the idea of boarding the bus with a bunch of creeps and weirdos was the last thing you wanted to do.

The sun grew warmer and warmer as it threatened to kiss the horizon line. Time was running out. You knew he had to go back home for dark, and every minute you wasted running around aimlessly was another you couldn't spend with him. You needed him right now--you needed a daddy more than anything.

"Girl!" 

You stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. A familiar, expensive-looking car had slowed to a halt at your side. The window rolled down, revealing a handsome face with brow knit in concern. It was Avery. 

"Is everything all right? You look like you could use a lift." 

The idea was appealing. Though you didn't know much about him besides what you'd learned on the one date he took you on, you knew he could get you to the park in time before sunset.

You'd take the risk of getting into his car. 

"I--I need to get to the park," you explained awkwardly, wondering if you should tag on 'to see my boyfriend' or not. Afraid he might decline, you decided not to.

"Get in." 

As you did, you hoped he wasn't expecting much in return. You knew you couldn't offer much, and in the back of your mind, you worried that even to a wealthy man with plenty to give like him, no good deed was meant to be for free. Not forever; Not in a town like this.

As though on cue, Avery rested his hand on what of your bare thigh was exposed. You gulped. It wouldn't take much to figure out you weren't wearing anything underneath your school skirt--just a shift of his touch. 

But he didn't move his hand.

"You're shaking like a leaf. Are you sure you're all right?" He asked gently, as though he was actually worried. Honestly, you needed that right now, and were afraid to look in his eyes in case you'd find that his supposed kindness didn't reach them.

Instead, you spoke bluntly: "Actually, I'm not." And you immediately regretted it. You should've lied. Instead, you opened a can of worms better left shut when it came to almost-strangers.

Shyly, your gaze finally flickered towards him. What you saw was worse than you had imagined: His eyes weren't insincere--they were staring at the gap in your school blouse where Whitney had busted off one of the buttons. Your bra was probably showing through, and the realization that you were being ogled made you feel very strange: You didn't feel like a woman to be looked at with desire. No--in that moment, you felt like a scared, lost little girl without her daddy. The seat felt big, the car felt huge, and Avery somehow seemed older and wiser than usual. 

"What's the matter, Girl? School? Money troubles? Tell me." 

"No...," and you were about to say more, it was just that you were trying to think of how to put your feelings into words in a way that would be semi-socially acceptable. But he seemed to get impatient and interrupted you before you could.

"I can help." 

With that, he leaned over the center console of the car. You thought he was going to kiss you, but instead, he only tugged the gap closed as best it would stay without a button, as though to give you back your modesty.

Like a gentleman.

Suddenly you wondered if you had misjudged him. He was acting like the daddy you felt you needed so much, and that was very confusing.

"I just need to get to the park." 

"All right." He pat your leg before withdrawing and starting the car back up.

You pressed your knees together and held your hands clenched in fists on your lap. You wanted to be polite, but nothing was coming out of your mouth right since the minute you stepped foot out of school. 

Avery attempted to make light conversation in your stead, but it went in one of your ears and out the other. By the time you arrived at the park, you figured this was probably the last time he would be doing you any favors. You'd been a poor passenger, unable to put on an act to entertain, even when someone was seemingly doing something rather kind.

"Thank you," you forced out, knowing he was deserving of something a little more genuine--you just weren't in the right headspace to conjure up the words.

He leaned back in his seat, hand draped over the steering wheel as he turned to watch while you fumbled haphazardly with your seatbelt. "You're welcome." Once free, you hesitated, then looked at him. His gaze had been lowered, but quickly flickered up to meet yours. "I know you're in a rush, but let's chat a little more the next time we meet, hm?"

"S-sure."

"Take care."

You quickly got out of the car before anything else could happen, tossing the door shut and running to the fountain. Avery's car remained parked there, watching from a distance, but you only had one person on your mind.

"Kylar!"

He'd been drawing, and jumped in surprise when he heard his name being called by his favorite voice.

"My Love!"

He had to scramble to pick up his pen and sketchbook that had luckily tumbled into the grass, rather than the water. Upon lifting his head from doing so, he found his eyes staring directly at the peek of your bra revealed through the gap in your shirt. It had only widened since your time in the car, the button beneath it having come undone.

"I'm--so glad--you're here," you panted, collapsing next to him on the edge of the fountain.

Of course hearing you say that made him happy, but the smile that overtook his lips seemed a little bittersweet. "Me too. But I have to go soon." He closed his sketchbook and set it off to the side, but kept the pen in his hand.

You could be honest with him. You could be needy. He'd like it--he always told you he'd like anything you did. It was okay, he was safe.

"I know your parents want you home," you said, "but I really need you tonight. Can you stay over?"

His smile faded, overtaken by a nervous look that you didn't like. "I don't know..."

Before he could reject you, you interjected, "Please." 

Still, he was hesitating. Why was he hesitating so much? It was just one night. 

"Or, can I go over to your place?" You asked, desperately.

"No," Kylar snapped.

You instantly backed off, feeling hurt by his sudden defensiveness. It was the last thing you wanted to hear, especially from him. Tears formed in your eyes and your jaw began to tremble. You didn't do it on purpose, but it seemed to be the perfect way to get what you wanted--his care.

"S-sorry!" He immediately flung both arms around you in a hug. "Ahhh, I'm s-sorry, I'm sorry, please don't c-c-cry! Shhhhh! Shhh, shh, shh shhhh!"

One of his hands reached up and started stroking your head rather roughly, but you know he didn't mean to be. It was very like him, though, and that comforted you all the same.

"You're ju-just not ready to meet my parents yet! And...and, they need me at home. That's why I can't stay...I'm sorry, My Love, I'm so-so-sorry!" 

You wished he would explain more, but you supposed he had already told you enough. He was lucky to have parents at all, and you shouldn't try to keep him from them if they needed him...no matter how much you felt you needed him, too. Not feeling up to responding verbally, you simply gave a pitiful sniff and nodded. He felt the movement and pulled away. 

"C-can I walk you home, though?" 

You nodded again, but avoided looking at his wide eyes with your teary ones. You wiped them with a swipe of your sleeve.

"Okay...okay. Don't cry? I know how m-much you want to be with me, it's how I feel about you a-a-all the time...here. Give me your hand."

You gave it to him, sniffling again. He pressed the tip of the pen into your skin and started to scribble something.

"Even...when we're...apart, you're...still...mine!"

It kind of hurt because of how hard he was pressing, but you let him do it anyway. When he finished, it read 'Property of Kylar,' along with some doodled hearts. You smiled wearily upon examining it. He capped the pen and rose to his feet. 

It was your turn to be on eye level with something lewd: He was erect in his school shorts and he wasn't trying to hide it. But he wasn't acknowledging it either, and so you decided not to either, quickly standing up, as well. You offered him your other hand and after he gathered up his sketchbook in the crook of his arm, he took it.

The two of you walked back to the orphanage. At first, it was awkward: He had an erection and you were chafed between your legs. But eventually, it must've gotten better for him, because he started to loudly sing a stupid song about how much he loved you. It made no sense and didn't even rhyme at all, nor did it follow a consistent melody, but it endeared you nevertheless. You loved how silly he was. It made your little self giggle with glee.

Sure, an older man like Avery had the looks, the charm, and the money. He even acted all prim and proper just like a gentleman in the movies. But your daddy could make you forget about all your problems and just laugh--even when you were feeling so down. That was something to be cherished; especially in a hellish town like this.

Feeling better, you started to swing your hands animatedly...until you'd built up too much velocity and he stumbled forward. His sketchbook went flying out in front of him as a result and he broke the hold in order to scramble down on his hands and knees and snatch it back up. He'd probably scuffed his bared legs on the concrete in the process, but it wasn't his top concern: He turned to look at you as though worried about your response, but you just offered him your hand again to help him back up to his feet. 

"Can we skip school tomorrow?" You asked once he took it. It was a bold question. You'd never done it before, and you weren't sure of the consequences.

But unlike before, Kylar didn't hesitate with his answer: "Y-yeah! Yeah, I'll come right away in the morning!"

"Promise?"

"Promise!" He squeezed your hand. "Through the window. Keep it unlocked!"

You reached the orphanage, and stopped just shy of its doors.

"And remember to fix the owl, My Love," Kylar said rather seriously, "Place him nice and high so he can watch out for you tonight, a-a-alright?" 

You didn't bother to wonder how he knew that it wasn't nice and high at the moment, instead taking comfort in being told what to do: If Daddy said to do it, you would.

"Yes, Daddy."

It felt good to be submissive, and Kylar beamed, clearly pleased with your obedience. "Good girl!" He reached up to pat your head a few times. 

You nearly swooned on the spot, all questioning erased from your mind.

"And--and, you can even ta-talk to him, if you want! Talk to him like he's me. It'll help, I promise!"

You nodded. 

"Good girl, good girl." He ruffled your hair excessively, messing it all up with his sweaty hand. "See you in the morning." 

"Goodnight, Daddy." 

He kissed you--keeping it brief before you could get him worked up again, knowing he didn't have the time to ravage you like he wanted--then left. 

You ran upstairs and the first thing you did was place the owl plush on your highest shelf facing your bed, giving it a nice, wide view of your bedroom.

Chapter Text

Kylar hurried home, eager to get off. He'd been edging all day long in hopes you'd eventually give him relief. But you'd seemed too preoccupied with your thoughts to give him as much attention as you usually did. In fact, you'd seemed worried about something since the day before. That was okay, he thought! Your needs were top priority, after all, and the two of you could tend to them right away tomorrow. 

But in order to do that for you--in order to be the dedicated provider he was for you--he needed to take care of his own problem first. 

He did his usual preparations to protect himself upon arriving home, stopping in the kitchen afterwards to heat up some 'dinner' in the microwave. Carrying that and his book bag to his room, he paused at their door to give them a rushed 'hello,' making sure they were actually still there in their room. A series of loud thumps responded to his call and he took that as sign enough they were in there and fine. As 'fine' as they could be, given the circumstances. 

Once locked safely away in his bedroom, he undressed with one hand, shoving the end of a microwaved garlic bread loaf into his mouth with the other. He chewed messily, crumbs falling to the floor along with his uniform shorts. It tasted good, but it was not nearly enough to satiate his hunger...only you could do that.  

After tossing away his necktie and single-handedly unbuttoning his shirt, he crawled into his computer chair, continuing to gnaw at the loaf while frantically shaking the mouse to wake his PC. A moan escaped him, spilling more crumbs onto himself when he saw you'd fixed the owl plush's position just like he'd asked. 

You really were such a good girl for Daddy, weren't you?

Temporarily setting the loaf aside on his desk atop an empty crisp bag, he hastened to pull up one of his favorite hentai--the one that featured a protagonist that resembled an anime-ified version of you--and dragged it onto one of his other monitors.

Each of his screens were filled up with his most prized images of you, some photographed with your consent (others without), lewd portraits he'd drawn himself, and expensive commissions that he didn't. He put real porn on the sixth monitor--one that starred a girl tied up to a chair with a body the same type as yours, forced to endure toys--and turned up his volume. 

A cacophony of female moans filled the room and he picked up the loaf again, feeding it into his mouth while digging his palm into his crotch through white briefs. Though he'd plenty to look at, he wanted you the most. All the other things were just inspiration of what he'd eventually do to you.

His eyes settled on the camera feeding him live footage from your bedroom. He couldn't wait to give you another plush--then he'd have two perspectives to watch you from! Kylar flushed at the prospect--then he finally saw you.

You entered in a towel, hair soaking wet and body freshly bathed. You probably smelled so good, he thought. By leaning a little closer to the screen, it was made clear to him you'd even taken extra precaution not to get your hand that he'd written on wet. Kylar breathed heavily through his nostrils, his cock throbbing at the thought that you must adore being his property so.

Very.

Much!

He couldn't take it anymore. He had to pull himself out, hand finally--finally!--wrapping around his hard cock once he'd spit into it. It started to stroke while he watched you drop the towel to the floor and change into an adorable little piece of lingerie, decorated with lace and trimmed by excessive frill.

It would've been better if you were naked. A spike of jealousy shot through Kylar as he wondered who you were getting so dressed up like this for without him around, but then you murmured, "Do you like it, Daddy?" while looking directly up at the owl plush.

"Mmfh--" Kylar nearly choked, and had to forcibly swallow down his bite prematurely. He gasped before leaning forward in his chair and nodding like you could see him. "Y-yes! Yes, My Love!" 

Your American accent was always so cute, he could never get enough of your voice! He lowered the volume of the other videos in case you said more, keeping up a languid pace on his cock despite being very excited. And you did say more:

"There's one last thing...but I need your help putting it on." 

"A-anything! Anything for you!"

With that tease, you turned around and knelt next to your bed. You pulled out a box Kylar had never seen before and his hand paused its pumping, the other setting the garlic bread back down.

"I don't have many left...and it kinda hurt to wear it today, but...but just one more night. One more night, and I'll be over it," you said, attempting to convince yourself more than anything. 

Kylar didn't know what you meant. Then you crawled up onto your bed and laid down, a pair of high-rise pantaloons in your hands. Except, they honestly looked more like a--

"Will you put me in my nappy, Daddy?" 

Upon hearing the words escape your lips, you smacked a hand over your mouth, quite embarrassed...even if you thought you were completely alone. It'd sounded so lewd to actually say it out loud!

Kylar paused all his porn completely, instead focusing solely on you. He blinked owlishly, his mouth hanging open: He wasn't sure if he'd understood you right, or even trusted his own eyes.

Getting over your initial burst of shyness, you stuck your feet through each side of the padded diaper and pulled it up your legs. It was white with pink sides and pink flowers decorating the rest of the padding.

"I'm--I'm a little sore, so be careful," you warned, turning your head to look across your bedroom up at the owl. "Be gentle, Daddy."

You lifted up your hips and taped the diaper into place. You closed your eyes, then...a look of bliss crossed your face as you sighed. You looked comfortable--and a little turned on, too, if the flush on your cheeks was any indication. Kylar was experiencing a maelstrom of emotions, and they only grew more complicated as you continued on with your monologue.

"I wish you could do this to me..."

You drifted one of your hands down the front of your sheer babydoll, moving from your bosom down to your crotch, and back up again. Lazily, you spread your legs wide. 

"...but I'm scared you won't like it...tell me you like it?"

Kylar was very attracted to you, and loved every side of you. He loved when you were being shy, and he loved the rare occasions you were able to be bold. He found you sexy no matter how you looked--with or without makeup, how you did your hair, or what you were wearing. He loved you--always. It was impossible to imagine you doing something that would change how he felt about you. Even--

"I just wanna be little with you. Just want...," you sighed again, heavier this time, and a bit more frustrated-sounding, "...want you to be my daddy." 

The hand still marked by his writing reached down next to the bed, rummaging around in the open box and pulling something out: A pacifier. Kylar's eyes widened impossibly large as he watched you wrap your lips around its teat, taking it into your mouth and suckling. 

You were just one surprise after the next. His cheeks turned red hot, and he began to stroke his dick, which had softened a little in the mean time. He still didn't know if it was really okay to get off on you while you were so vulnerable--but he did like it. It was you, after all: His soon-to-be wife!

"Y-yes, My Love--yes..."

At first, it'd seemed like you were having a similar dilemma, but like him, you quickly gave into your base instincts. At the end of the day, you were thinking about your boyfriend whom you were very attracted to--and it was impossible to ignore what the thought of him did to your body. Plus, it's not like anyone was bearing witness to your lewdity! You were all alone in your room, and everyone else in the world was none the wiser.

Or so you thought.

Your inked hand squeezed at your breast while the other ducked between your legs and slipped into the side of the diaper to rub circles around your clit. Vaguely, Kylar heard the sound of slick getting pushed around, and he knew you were soaking wet for him. He turned his porn back on and returned to stroking himself vigorously.

He wished he were there to comfort you; To tell you it was all right, that he'd cherish you no matter what fucked up kinks you had, or how massive of a freak you were. That he kinda really sorta liked that you were secretly so perverted, actually. He'd dress you up however you liked. He'd call you whatever you wanted--and then he'd fuck you, like you so clearly needed. 

Reaching his climax didn't take long. Even if he couldn't see any of your genitals, you getting off and the mere idea that it was all for him quickly pushed him over the edge. You followed soon after, your hips lifting high up off the bed as you came, moaning noisily around your pacifier. 

After that, you settled down and let yourself lay there in your own mess for a while. It'd felt nice: You'd needed that.

Eventually, however, you had to get up and remove the soiled diaper. You replaced it with normal panties--some of the few you had left, thanks to Kylar stealing most of them--and finally sat at your desk. You opened up a textbook and began to study with what time you had left of the night, still sucking on the pacifier. Even if you were skipping school, you could still try to keep up and prepare for Friday's test by covering tomorrow's material on your own.

Kylar wasn't fully satisfied with just one orgasm--he never was--but he at least had cleared up enough space in his head to do something a little more meaningful...and given the time, he had to hurry up if he wanted to get same-day delivery!

After hastily wiping his hand on a tissue, he tucked himself back into his briefs and got to work. The porn looped on repeat and your live camera played on as he tapped away on his keyboard late into the night, alternating between speed reading through kink forums and fetish blogs, to ordering stuff he hadn't even known existed until now. 

He was going to be such a good daddy, just like he'd promised you!

"Wake up, My Love~"

You awoke the next morning just as you often hoped you would: with Kylar crawling in through your window. You rubbed your eyes as though to make sure it wasn't a dream, but it really wasn't--he was here, just like he promised, and with his backpack, some plastic bags, and an umbrella, too!

In the distance, you heard rain pattering on the sidewalk outside beneath the sound of his little grunts and whimpers. Maneuvering through the window wasn't easy. You couldn't blame him for struggling with it, but you couldn't exactly help, either, too busy trying to stir, collect your wits, and push yourself up on your elbows in bed to watch. He finally tumbled in after his bags with little grace, falling to the floor just as the rumble of thunder raged. You couldn't help but giggle. He was so cute. 

Then he stood up, brushing himself off and running his fingers through his damp hair a couple times and you realized--yeah: Your boyfriend was really, really cute today, actually.

He was wearing a baggy black hoodie, unzipped to reveal an open flannel shirt and a loose-fitting anime t-shirt below that. Beneath the tattered sleeves peeked out the ends of his favorite striped arm warmers--neon green and black--and you noticed the paint on his nails was no longer chipped, but neat and glossy with a fresh coat of black. On each of his fingers' knuckles was a letter of your name in permanent marker.

A green and black studded belt that matched his arm warmers hung down from his tiny waist, only attached to two of loops so that it sunk down one side to the middle of his thigh. A couple of its studs were missing, but like the rugged nature of the rest of his outfit, it was charming.

Instead of his usual bondage shorts, he wore skin-tight black jeans to accommodate the cooler autumn weather...though, they were full of (both intentionally and unintentionally) distressed holes, top to bottom--giving you many peeks at his slim, hairless legs. The denim hugged his hips so snug that, despite their dark color, you couldn't help but notice the subtle bulge of his cock tucked off to one side. 

On his feet were chunky lime green hi-tops with laces that had been excessively doodled on, tying the whole outfit together. He toed the sneakers off so not to get your room wet and muddy, revealing cute striped socks.

You didn't care what people at school said about him and how he dressed: He looked hot, and you'd never wanted anyone more in your life. 

He wasted no more time in crawling atop you. He smelled like the rain, fresh and clean. You reached up to run a hand through his messy hair. Despite the little droplets sprinkled throughout it, most of it was impossibly soft and fluffy, just like you'd imagine a cloud to be. He must've showered and shampooed before coming.

Kylar grinned at you toothily, giving his head a jerk to one side to flip his bangs out of his eyes. "Good morning, Princess," he purred, doing his best to look and sound seductive. 

And it worked--because when did he start calling you that, and where had this newfound confidence come from? It was almost like he knew something you didn't.

"G-good morning." You squirmed beneath him but made no effort to get away, withdrawing your hands and letting them flop to either side of your head atop your pillow submissively, silently showing him you were definitely into whatever it was he was doing.

"Do you like that? Getting called my princess?" Kylar asked, sounding so much bolder than usual, barely stuttering at all. The name was recommended in many forums, so he was already certain you'd be into it, but he wanted to hear you confirm it yourself just to boost his ego.

Of course you did, nodding.

He giggled. "Ahah! How adorable: My little American p-princess!"

Before you could tell him that they didn't have princesses in America, he leaned down and captured your mouth in a kiss. Hastily, he thrust his tongue between your parted lips, but you shoved at his face with a whine. 

"Didn't brush m--!" You tried to warn him but he growled and nipped at your bottom lip as punishment for not letting him in. It stung a little, but only for a few seconds.

"I don't care," he murmured before kissing you again, this time claiming every inch of your mouth with his tongue properly. You let him--and he was definitely making it up to you that he hadn't been able to stay over last night.

Once he was almost out of breath, he pulled away. Your mixed saliva coated his mouth, and he wiped it off haphazardly with the swipe of his sleeve. After noisily sucking in some oxygen, he announced, "We're going to have sooo~ much~ fun today!"

"We are?" You asked. Well, there were all those bags he'd brought...

...you tried to glance over at them, but you could see nothing but him and his big grin.

"Mmmm~hm!" Kylar hummed, his eyes impossibly wide and totally unblinking. Normally, he was shorter than you, but from this position, he filled your vision completely. And he looked a little crazy, too--but you'd always liked that. "Daddy's got loooots of surprises for his l-little g-gir-girl!"

You squeezed your legs tight together, feeling a gush of needy slick coat your privates.

Chapter Text

"You're very p-pretty this morning." Kylar leaned back, straddling your hips and examining you and your expression with thoughtfulness. Though your eyes still appeared a bit tired, you were looking only at him. He liked that, pleased to find his self-grooming efforts had apparently paid off.

Not like he was going to allow you to look at anyone else: You were his, and only his. Today, and always...but especially today! He was going to have you all to himself. You weren't going to leave this room--not for anything in the whole world. Before the two of you could bask in the euphoria of one another's presence and enjoy your solitude to the fullest, however, there was something you still needed to confess to!

"The other day, you--you wanted to tell me something, r-right?" Kylar asked, rather innocently. He'd proven to be a good, earnest, trustworthy boyfriend thus far, hadn't he? You were definitely going to be honest with him, right? "What was it?"

"The 'Daddy' thing." You consoled yourself by thinking that it was only a partial-lie.

"B-but, but." The smile fell from Kylar's face. He leaned forward and braced his clenched fists on your chest. "But, was that it? Was that everything?" He tilted his head to one side to feign what he hoped seemed like curiosity. In reality, it was suspicion. 

He was giving you such a good opportunity to tell the truth--a second chance. No, a third, actually...yet, his sudden interest in the subject was making you a tad nervous.

Suddenly your mouth was dry, tongue feeling thick and heavy inside your mouth. Anxiety clawed at your chest just below his fists, and still, you knew you needed to reassure him: You took one of his hands in yours, bringing it to your mouth and kissing each of his fingers just above where each letter of your name was marked into his skin.

Attempting not to be swooned by your romantic act, Kylar choked out, "P-please be honest with me, Princess. You know I'd love you no matter what...?"

Did the pictures of you from yesterday get posted online? Did people capture a snapshot of your diaper revealed beneath your skirt? 

Did he somehow know your secret?

"It's nothing," you insisted.

When his expression softened into disappointment, your gut lurched as though alerting you that you'd just said the wrong thing. Like always, you ignored it. Kylar averted his gaze, crawling off you. 

"O-kay," he murmured, shrugging off his hoodie and draping it over your desk chair. You watched as he padded over to the pile of bags he'd brought and crouched down to shuffle their contents around.

Curious, you pushed yourself up into a sitting position and swung one leg over the side of the bed, which was as far as you got before Kylar had rushed back to your side and forcibly shoved you back into the bed. "Ah ah ah! My Love! Today you're Daddy's princess, you d-don't have to d-do a thing!" 

At his behest, you settled back into bed, letting him tuck the blankets around your legs as you assumed a sitting position. He even plucked up your spare pillow and stuffed it behind your back to make it more comfortable. 

"There~ we~ go!" 

Once content with how tightly packed you were beneath the sheets, Kylar pat your head. Your anxiety began to melt away, though the storm outside raged on. Rain would've been a pleasant backdrop to the morning, but the rumbling of thunder and occasional flash of lightning were keeping you somewhat on edge. 

Despite his chipper attitude, something was off--you just couldn't put your finger on what. Then again...your boyfriend was Kylar: Your self-preservation instinct truly wasn't the sharpest tool in your shed.

Too distracted by your thoughts, you hadn't realized he'd pulled his phone out of his back pocket until he was handing it over to you, "L-look what I found!"

Your heart sank to the pit of your stomach. 

Had he seen the photos after all? 

Yet, when you finally garnered up the courage to peek at the screen, you only found it was an MMD of one of Kylar's favorite anime characters--the one squad member that looked a lot like you. With a little sigh of relief, you pressed play. She started to dance around the screen, her breasts--much bigger than usual--bouncing around unrealistically with every step.

"Watch the whole thing! It gets really good!" 

You did. Soon, the main hero of the series appeared, dancing along with your character. You knew Kylar shipped them because they resembled the two of you.

Eventually, he climbed back onto the bed, straddling you like before. He settled his full weight down atop your legs--further pinning you in place there, as if the blankets tucked around you hadn't been enough. 

As the MMD ended and faded to black, you made to give the phone back to him, but found his hands were full, gripping what seemed to be a wrapped up sandwich of some sort and a bottle of flavored water.

"It's t-time for the most important meal of the day," he announced.

You weren't exactly hungry just yet--you'd only just woken up--but he really was trying so hard to make today special for you! You couldn't decline, so you nodded and set his phone on the bed. 

He put the sandwich down on your side in order to use both hands to try and open the bottle. His face twisted in an exaggerated effort, and he grunted as though it was the most difficult thing in the world. 

"Let me," you offered, knowing he wasn't exactly the strongest person in the world. 

"But I'm supposed to be your daddy! I should be able to do it!" He pursed his lips in a childish pout, brow furrowed. After seemingly considering your help for a few seconds longer, Kylar sighed in defeat and handed it over to you. 

You twisted the cap and it snapped off with barely any friction whatsoever.

"Thank you, My Love. That's the only thing you'll have to do today, I p-p-promise."

You pressed it to your lips.

"Drink up~" 

You noticed an excited little tremble in his voice and it made you squirm under the sheets. Trying to distract yourself, you screwed the cap back on and set the bottle aside. It'd tasted slightly bitter, but it was most likely because you'd never tried that flavor before. 

"I know you'd probably prefer a nice, home-cooked meal..."

Turning your attention back to Kylar, you found him unwrapping the paper from around the sandwich.

"...Daddy doesn't know how to do that just yet..."

It was sloppily folded, as though someone had opened it up and tried to put it back together without having paid attention to how it'd been wrapped in the first place. 

"...But don't worry! He'll learn!"

Honestly, though, you didn't blame the poor worker who had to be up so early to have made it. Wrappers were meant for the bin, anyhow. 

"I'll learn...just for you."

Before you could console him about his cooking skills, he was shoving the sandwich in your face, standing up on his knees to do so. You cataloged breakfast-y ingredients and some kind of sauce.

"Open uuuppp~!"

There was something manic dancing in his eyes. Though he was always attentive to you and clearly loved to stare, this felt different. A flash of lightning lit up the entire room, then left the two of you in a soft grey glow. 

Despite the goosebumps that'd risen upon your arm's skin, you parted your lips. He pressed the sandwich up against them and you took a bite, whimpering when some of the sauce gushed onto your chin.

"Oh! So messy," Kylar chuckled, pulling the sandwich away and thumbing the sauce off your face before holding it to your mouth. "Cute." 

You didn't feel cute, but once you swallowed your first bite, you sucked his thumb regardless. He let out a little moan, and you watched as his expression melted into something more familiar--that of lust. He was determined, though, to put your needs first: Today was your day. Plus, there'd be plenty of time to enjoy you later...

...despite the initial awkwardness, you and Kylar found a rhythm. He figured out how long it took for you to swallow down each bite, and always lifted the sandwich back up to your mouth just as you finished.

As you chewed, he stroked the back of your head with his free hand and murmured things like, "Thaaaat's it," and, "Such a go~od gi~rl." 

His touch on top of the never-ending sandwich was overwhelming, but you endured until the sodium and spice of the sauce was too much. 

Way too much! What was in that stuff?

"Gotta drink," you murmured, holding back a cough as you turned to grab the bottle.

Kylar lowered the sandwich, gawking as you opened it up and started to drink. His cheeks flushed pink for some reason, and you chalked it up to the fact that you were wrapping your hand and lips around something kind of lewd-shaped. Still, you drank on, because it was as though you could never wash the spice from of your mouth--and you still had half the sandwich to endure.

"Whoa whoa whoa!" When you'd nearly guzzled half the bottle in one go, Kylar tugged it away from you. You sputtered, but pursed your lips and managed to swallow it down. "Not so much at once, My Love! It won't agree with you!"

"It's fine," you tried to say, but he shook his head and set the sandwich down so that he could tightly cap up the drink. This time, he placed it behind himself, out of your reach.

"Daddy gets to decide what's f-fine and what's not for his princess. Now eat." He shoved the sandwich back in your face. 

Truthfully, you were still thirsty, but seeing him get a little dominant was hot enough to distract you from potential irritation.

While it lasted, anyway, because--and you didn't know when it'd started, exactly--but you were starting to get very, very sleepy, despite just having woken up; So much so that you could barely keep your eyes open. They felt impossibly heavy and kept shutting, only to flutter back open seconds--or maybe minutes--later.

The next time you saw Kylar, the sandwich was gone. Had you finished it all? Sluggishly, your eyes shifted to the bed, looking for the wrapper, but it was gone, along with the bottle. Your stomach churned in discomfort and your mouth was dry. So dry.

You needed another sip--you needed...

...you needed....

...

...Kylar's cold fingertips ran down the side of your face. You tried to reach up to place your hand atop his, but you found the idea much too strenuous. Truth be told, given how your muscles all felt like jelly at the moment, you weren't even certain you could move. 

"Does that feel good?"

You lost the battle against your eyelids, finally allowing them to shut for good. Your ears didn't fail you yet, however, and you listened as Kylar continued to mumble more.

"D-don't be scared...I--I-I know a thing or two about making stuff like this. I-it's medicine! To help you relax...you were so on edge. I know you didn't mean to lie to me, you were only s-stressed! I just hope I got the d-dosage right...you're just a little girl, after all. A little girl with a b-big appetite!"

You could feel the covers being peeled away, revealing your body to the sudden chill that'd overtaken the room. You were still only wearing a pair of panties and the babydoll from last night, and it exposed quite a bit of you to his insatiable gaze. 

"I thought you'd only last a few bites, but you ate the whooooole thing! My hungry princess~"

Slowly--savoring it--he pinched the frilled lingerie between his thumb and forefinger and lifted it up to expose you.

"Good thing I brought so much food with me." His other hand caressed your stomach, just as he did when you were making love, "If I feed you lots, will you get a bigger tummy?" He giggled again. "It'll be like I made you pregnant!"

The rain grew heavier, pounding against your window. His touch became a bit more frantic with it, groping at your stomach as though it were something perverse.

"Oh!"

Then, suddenly, it all stopped.

"I shouldn't s-say that, should I? Hmmm...that's not so-something daddies should say...sorry." 

His hand withdrew, instead slipping lower. He spread your legs. His touch was light and feathery, stroking the insides of your thighs. It should've been ticklish, but you couldn't jerk away. You couldn't do anything at all but listen to him. 

"I can't help it...I want to be everything to you."

Kylar bunched your babydoll just below your breasts and then hooked his fingers around the waistband of your panties.

"N-not just a boyfriend. But your best friend, and your husband, and your daddy, too."

He shuddered at the idea and finally tugged your underwear down your legs. You were absolutely helpless to stop him. 

"I'll show you I'm all you'll ever need. Just you wait. But--ah...sorry if I'm a perverted daddy...you like that though, r-right?"

His touch left you, but was soon replaced by his heavy breath on your crotch. 

"Hm?" 

A finger poked at the tender, red skin just to the side of your fold. It was where the diaper had chafed you.

"Ooh, Princess," Kylar clicked his tongue disapprovingly, then sighed, breath hot on your pussy and contrasting his cool touch. "You weren't wearing your nappy right, were you? You probably didn't know how. Ohhh...that's okay. Thaaat's okaaayy~"

Unable to stop himself, he ran his index finger up and down the sensitive flesh, irritating it. 

"It'll feel sooo much better when Daddy does it. He knows how to put nappies on just right~...but I want you to be more awake when I do. I know how much you were looking forward to this!"

Kylar giggled happily, then pulled away and leaned back to admire you...all pretty and exposed to him. 

"The worst of it should wear off in about..."

But you started losing his words.

"...and you'll be nice and relaxed..."

Whatever was in that drink, its effects were impossible to resist any longer.

"...let Daddy play with..."

You couldn't hold on: You only needed a few minutes of rest.

"...How does that..."

Just a few minutes.

"Hmm?"

Chapter Text

You were disoriented: Upon attempting to sort out your thoughts and figure out what was going on, you couldn't tell if you were recalling dreams or reality. Neither made much sense. Luckily, after garnering up the willpower, you were able to open your eyes to see the truth.

You were in your room. The rain still tapped the grey window in a steady rhythm. You were next to Kylar, who had pulled your desk chair to the bed side and was looking down at his phone. You were safe. 

And naked?

You tried to move under the blankets. For some reason, it was difficult--like every limb of your body weighed a ton--but you managed to shift your feet around a little. The sheets rustled against your bare body in turn, confirming your suspicions.

"Ah! Is Daddy's Princess awake?" Kylar leapt up to his feet. He was gawking at you with wide eyes, cheeks flushed red.

Averting your gaze from his, you saw that on his phone's screen was a picture of what you recognized to be your own body--nude, in bed. Probably taken moments ago. Or hours--you weren't sure exactly how long you'd been out.

But why had you passed out?

Kylar set it his phone aside, screen down. After all, he already had plenty of photos and the owl was recording everything from the best perspective of the room: He'd made sure to shift its positioning atop your wardrobe just right. 

You followed his movement and looked at your bedside table, noticing a copious amount of wadded up tissues scattered across its surface. Your box of them now nearly empty.

Noticing where you were looking, Kylar quickly scooped them all up in his arms and dumped them in the bin as fast as he could--dropping a few in the process, but plucking them up shortly after. In your stupor, you couldn't put two and two together.

Not yet. 

"I know you're probably feeling pretty knackered. That w-w-wasn't supposed to happen, it was only meant to relax you...but you drank more than I thought you w-would!"

Drank? Was there something in the drink? But it'd been sealed, so it couldn't've been laced...

...Kylar stroked your head, smiling down at you in a way that would've been sweet had his pupils not been so blown; the usual green swallowed up almost entirely by an eerie black. 

"Right, then! It's time to start our day proper!" Kylar clasp his hands in front of himself, practically beaming. "A-and, and, and how do you usually start the day, Princess?"

He pursed his lips tight, as though struggling not to answer his own question.

When you opened your mouth to reply, no words came out. Your brow furrowed, and you pushed, only for a breathy little "A-ah," to escape you. 

"Don't worry! Daddy knows the answer!" He threw his hands out to either side of his face, palms out, "Get dressed! Yaaaay!" 

Kylar was always silly, but it was usually unintentional. Now, however, he seemed to be exaggerating on purpose. He was more animated. It was like he was speaking to a child--something that, as an orphan who'd always had to fight for her life whether it was on the streets or in school, you barely knew. Bailey had certainly never spoken to you so sweetly, and if there'd been someone before him--not only dreams of what your past might've been like--you couldn't properly recall it. 

"And I have just~ the~ thing!"

But now--you had Kylar. And he was treating you exactly like you'd always dreamed of. Though you weren't sure how the two of you got to this point, it was admittedly rather nice.

No--it was perfect...

...maybe it was too good to be true.

You felt the sheets being pulled off of you and the mattress dipping as Kylar crawled on top of it. Your eyes immediately snapped open, but you hadn't even realized you'd been drifting again. However, once you saw what he was holding, awareness surged through you once more: In the crook of his arm were two bottles, and in his hands he lifted up a diaper for you to see. 

The ones you used were pull-ups. This seemed to be something more involved, requiring fastenings on either side. It was also more cutesy with a little bow in the front--it must've been more expensive than the ones you used. 

Immediately, humiliation overtook you: He'd definitely seen the pictures Whitney's gang had taken of you. He'd seen them, and now he was making fun of you. 

Because of course the first thing your brain thought was that even he'd make fun of you. Why wouldn't he? Everyone always had; everyone always did. 

You felt sick. 

Kylar didn't notice, too busy popping the cap on the lotion bottle. It took him a few times, and after swearing quietly under his breath, he finally managed. Then, he took a deep breath, and turned back towards you, smiling innocently as he knelt between your legs, which he spread wide, placing one on either side of his skinny figure. 

A reluctant whine escaped your lips, and you attempted to squirm.

"Shshshhh! It's okay, it's okay! Look!" 

He held the bottle up to you as though seeing it would reassure you. The text on it was all blurry and jumbled, and between your panic and tears blurring your eyes, you couldn't read it. 

"This'll feel sooo good, My Love." 

He pulled away, squirted some onto his fingertip, then bit down on his bottom lip in concentration as he reached down and began to stroke your folds. Despite your predicament, your hips jerked automatically, but he held them down with his other hand and shushed you a little more.

"Theeeere," he cooed soon after, spreading the lotion all over your chafed skin, "Soooo niiiice, huh?"

It was cold, but it instantly soothed the burn you felt there and you couldn't deny it was pleasant. Surprisingly, his touch wasn't perverse, just a little intense. He massaged the lotion into your skin thoroughly--perhaps spending more time on it than necessary--before pulling away to grab the other bottle.

You recognized that stuff. It was what you should've put on before wearing the diaper to school all day...baby powder. 

He haphazardly shook it all over your crotch, dumping an excessive amount onto you before using his hands to spread it to your backside. It made a mess on the bed, but he didn't seem to care, and you could do nothing to stop him. 

Well, until he lifted up the diaper. 

Wanting to beg him to stop this torture--to plead him not to, to confess that this was too sadistic of a punishment coming from someone you loved so much, and when you were feeling better, you swore you could explain everything--your brow knit with determination and you began to struggle. With a great effort, you managed to lift your feet and kick at him while simultaneously reaching forward to push him away for good measure.

"Hey! Hey, hey, hey, hey!" Despite how scrawny he was, he easily wrestled your limbs back down. "You're okay, you're safe!"

No matter his own physical fragility, when you were drugged like this, it was as though he really was bigger, older, and stronger than you.

"Are you embarrassed? Is that it?" He clicked his tongue. "Ohh..." The look on his face was that of forced sympathy, but the corner of his mouth kept twitching upwards like he was battling a smirk of amusement. "You don't have to be, Princess. Daddy loves this."

Now focused on trying to read your every micro-expression, Kylar noticed the way your face melted from defiance into what seemed to be surprise. 

Poor thing. 

You poor, poor thing...you were keeping so much from him. Hopefully now you'd see that doing so was no good...your daddy needed to know everything, especially when it came to your desires and making you happy. Then, he'd be able to make it all better--exactly like he was doing now.

"We're made for each other, see? I like all the same things you do! I'm just the p-per-perfect Daddy, aren't I?"

Kylar ducked his head, beaming as though he were the proudest young man in the world; so proud to be yours. Your daddy.

You had no choice but to believe him.

With a bit of a struggle, he was able to lift up your hips long enough to sneak the diaper beneath your bottom before letting you drop back down on the bed. You merely watched as he fastened each side of the diaper shut with pink tape. Unlike your pull-ups, which had enough give for you to reach in and touch yourself, you really felt tightly sealed into this; like you weren't just being put into it to wear and feel naughty and cute--you were being put into it to use. Your cheeks heated up at the thought: There was no way...

...

...but if Kylar was into it, then, maybe...

...

"I had a feeling you liked this, too. W-when you asked to call me 'Daddy.'" He hadn't, of course, but Kylar had no problem lying about it, wanting to seem smart to you. "But...but I'm a little hurt you didn't tell me! H-how is Daddy supposed to make you feel good i-if you don't te-te-tell me these things? Hmmm?" 

The look on his face was strange, but he was still smiling. His fingers reached out and pinched your cheek. With the pillows behind your head, you couldn't flinch away and let him knead the skin between his thumb and forefinger. It was a bruising sort of pain, but attention was attention all the same. That, and you supposed you deserved to be punished.

You'd kept this from him, after all.

"No matter." He withdrew and crawled off the bed before he could be tempted by your naked upper half, scooping up the lotion and baby powder and returning to his bags, where he crouched down and unzipped his backpack.

After rummaging around in it, he retrieved a plastic package. Then, he pulled out a small pocket knife from his back jeans' pocket, flicking it open and slicing the bag with one swift motion.

Your heart skipped a beat: You didn't know he kept a knife on himself like that. But you were so focused on that realization that it took a moment for your eyes to focus on what had actually been in the package. It cascaded out in front of Kylar once he'd pulled it from its casing, fluffy-looking fabric pooling at his feet.

"Taa-daaaaa!"

After folding his knife back up and tossing it into his backpack, he was able to use both hands to show you what he had: It was a kigurumi.

An owl kigurumi. He flipped it from the front to the backside, and back again. You got a good look at the grey and white patterns, and the cutesy little hood with wide eyes and a beak embroidered into it.

"You're going to look soooooo c-cute, Princess!"

Getting it on would be much trickier than the nappy if you didn't cooperate, so after he'd unbuttoned its front and climbed back on the bed, you did your best to help stick your feet through each pant leg. They felt stiff--as though you'd been sleeping on them for several nights and hadn't moved them in all that time. Kylar grabbed your ankles, guiding them in place in the little footsies attached to the bottom of the kigurumi.

He worked with a bit of impatience to maneuver the rest of the onesie up your body. You tried to aid him whenever you could, realizing function over your limbs really was returning to you as he'd promised.

You must've been out for a long time. Still, the rain poured on outside. 

Kylar's hands trembled slightly as he fastened each button up the front, slowly but surely hiding your naked form from his view. After the final one had been fastened at the collar, he straddled your lap, reached behind your head, and flipped up the hood.

"You're the cu-cute-cutest little owl in the whoooole world! And you're allllll mine!"

He booped the tip of your nose.

You couldn't deny, you did feel cute: The kigu was very oversized, making you seem much smaller than usual. It was also made with very high quality materials, wrapping your entire body up in what felt like a perpetual hug. No matter your initial apprehension about how you actually got into this situation, between the softness of this onesie, the security of the nappy, and Kylar giving you his full attention, you really were starting to feel truly safe. 

Safe and loved.

You shouldn't have ever doubted him.

"And! A-a-and, and! I'm not gonna lewd you! Not even a little bit!" Kylar announced proudly, as though it were a major sacrifice. "I'll show you what a real good Daddy I can be, o-okay? There's just one more thing!"

He gave you a quick peck on your cheek before retrieving another plastic bag from his backpack. This one wasn't commercial, but rather, one that looked like it was from home.

"Your new dummy!" 

He unclasped the bag to pull it out and promptly crawled back atop your lap, showing it to you: It was grey and white--like the kigurumi--and also had a cutesy-looking owl's face on its front.

This wasn't like the pacifier you used, though. The teat was much bigger than yours, like it was actually made for adults to suck on. It also has a strap, striped grey, white, and black, that ended in a clip. 

"D-don't worry, I already sanitized it and everything! I-I wouldn't risk making you sick!"

You opened your mouth, looking up at him expectantly. But then, he pulled it away, up over his head. 

"A-ah ah! Before I put it in, I r-really want to hear you call me 'Daddy!'" 

You closed your mouth and tried to clear your throat. It was dry. After licking your lips, you parted them once more and tried to push out the pet name. 

"Da--"

Kylar's brow furrowed as realization hit him. "Oh...you probably won't be able to talk for awhile. But! I really--really--want to hear you try! Can you say 'Daddy,' Princess? Say 'Daddy!'"

"D-da..." Whatever you'd drank made talking very difficult, even as your movement was starting to return to you. "D-da--da...ddy."

Barely able to talk, just like a baby! Kylar had to bite down on his fist to muffle his squeal and keep from making too much racket: Not like the door wasn't locked with a chair up against the knob, but the last thing he wanted to do was get you in trouble in this awful place.

Once composed, he called you a, "Good girl! Good, good girl!" and pushed the pacifier into your mouth. Once it was settled, he took the clip at the end of the strap and attached it securely to your kigurumi, so that if you dropped it, it wouldn't fall anywhere unsanitary.

"Ahhh...you l-look sooo, so cute, My Love...sooo cute." 

Kylar knew he kept saying the same thing over and over, but he couldn't help it: Even though he'd initially been hesitant, he couldn't deny that he savored being able to provide for you like this. 

In fact, the stranger you were, the better! No other guy would be as openly accepting and loving as he was, would they? No one else at school would've spent all night researching, or all their money buying you what was needed to indulge properly. Especially not that Robin!

"C-Can I take some pictures?" 

Kylar stood up on his knees, reaching to snatch his phone off your bedside table. Of course, he knew he didn't really have to ask--you were his girlfriend, so it was his right to take pictures of you whenever he wanted--but just because he was such a good Daddy, he would.

"I--I want to remember how adorable you looked for me, all dressed up!" 

Pictures were a liability. Someone could grab Kylar's phone at school when you weren't around to stop them and see them. Or, he could lose it somewhere in the park. Your mind raced with all the ways photos of you like this could ruin your life--much more than faceless nude photos of your body--but the way he was looking at you so earnestly, you couldn't deny him. 

You nodded. 

"Thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" 

With shaky hands, Kylar opened up the camera app and got to work. 

Chapter Text

Kylar positioned you for the photos like a doll. You felt able enough to maintain each pose, despite still being sleepy and sluggish. But it was nice, honestly--you were relaxed for once; especially since he'd soothed your many worries.

The kigurumi showcased nothing about your body: It hid it completely, turning it into that of a chubby cartoon animal's. Still, Kylar looked at you with reverence...as though you were the most beautiful thing in existence.

He really did just want to make you happy.

Your guilt for doubting him could wait for later, when you were alone with self-deprecating thoughts, or waiting for the time to pass through class. Now, however, your only concern was the present: You gave your loving daddy your full attention, always looking directly at the camera and cooperating with whatever he asked of you. It wasn't much, anyway, and after a few minutes (and probably a hundred or so photos), Kylar slipped his phone in his back pocket.

"You know what would make you even cuter? Nail polish!" 

Excitedly, Kylar leapt off the bed. You were surprised when he actually pulled out two little bottles from his backpack: He really had brought everything for the perfect day! What else could he have in there?

He'd mentioned snacks, didn't he...or had you dreamt that? You weren't sure anymore.  

He crawled back to the bedside on his hands and knees before settling on his calves on the floor. You got the idea and swung your legs over the edge of the bed, settling with your little footie'd feet on either side of him. After twisting open the cap to a bottle of black nail polish, he held out his hand for yours.

You gave him the one that still had his writing on it. He blushed when he saw it, biting down on his bottom lip and worrying at it with his teeth. You could tell he was a little embarrassed, but he said nothing in complaint and got to work.

You remained as still as possible while he painted. He was quite good at it. Though he'd occasionally swipe away spare paint from your cuticle with the edge of his nail, it was surprisingly much better than you--or maybe even a professional--could've ever done. It was funny how he was always so squirrelly, but when he had an art utensil in his hand, suddenly he became nothing but confident. No shakes whatsoever, and his palms weren't getting sweaty, either.

"Your nails are so adorable," he finally said, breaking the silence, which had been comfortable. Listening to his voice was, too. "I like how this one grows in a different sh-shape than the others." 

Had anyone ever realized that before? Hell--had you realized that before? 

Kylar kissed each one of your knuckles before gently lowering your hand and taking the other one. 

"Don't touch anything, now, or I'll have to redo them," he murmured.

You nodded and tried to be a good girl by resting your painted hand on your lap while he worked on the other.

"N-not like I'd be opposed...I could do this all day, if you wanted me to."

You believed he would.

"But I d-don't think you'd like that...you might get bored..."

He was just as quick and efficient with the strokes of the tiny brush as he was with the last hand. Before you knew it, he was back to it to do a second coat, repeated the process, and finally, he'd made it to the top coat. For that, he used a different bottle.

"This is the trick to keeping them proper."

The new polish was not colored, but crystal clear. When he painted it upon the existing polish, the matte black became slick and glossy with the finish. Otherwise, you wouldn't've been able to tell there was anything being painted on at all.

"I used to use it to stop from biting my nails. It's got a b-bitter taste, so it's a good deterrent."

A bitter taste, huh? Before you could think about it too much, Kylar went on: "S-s-so don't bite your nails, okay? That's not very princess-like! Neither is getting in fights. Stay safe when Daddy's not around to p-protect you, all right?"

Even though you knew that wasn't as easy as simply saying 'yes,' but you nodded your head anyway, sucking away at your paci innocently.

"I'll know if I find your nails chipped! Then I'll p-p-pu-pu-punish you!"

Somehow, you doubted that...but you nodded again in confirmation anyway to inflate his ego.

"I read that you should set up rules for your little...s-so that's my rule. And!" He pulled the brush away, lifting his head to look directly up into your eyes. "And no swearing! Princesses definitely do not swear!"

What a silly rule. Still, you nodded.

Kylar seemed satisfied and smiled at you. "Good girl." 

With a slight pink flush to his cheeks, he ducked his head back down and finished with your thumb--the last of your fingers--then pulled away. He capped the polish back up and rose to his feet, making a show of stretching out his limbs.

You watched as his t-shirt lifted up. It revealed the waistband of his jeans (no sign of any briefs beneath them), the defined lines of his hip bones, and his milky white tummy that never saw the sun...or rather, lack thereof. Kylar was little more than skin and bones. 

Still, you couldn't resist: You suddenly leaned forward and wrapped both your arms around his tiny waist in a hug. He yelped in surprise. 

"Ca-careful! D-do-don't--don't ruin your nails!" 

There was no helping it! As much as he kept saying you were cute, he was the same--if not even more so, in your humble opinion.

"Hmmm..." 

Despite how startled he was initially, Kylar didn't exactly seem opposed to having you latched around his middle. He wasn't trying to push you away. Not yet, anyway. Could you change that? Curiosity and mischief took over you.

"What can we do while they dry?" He pondered aloud.

You allowed him to think it through while you formulated your own plan. The paci dropped out of your mouth, hanging from your kigu where it was pinned so it was safe from hitting the floor.

"Oh! I know!"

You buried your head beneath his t-shirt and he gasped just as your lips pressed a little kiss above his belly button. 

"H-hey!" Kylar lifted up his shirt and gently tugged your head away from his middle before he could get hard(er) from your sweet attention. "I know you love Daddy, but do-don't do that sort of thing right now!"

He pushed your pacifier back to your lips so they could tempt him no longer. 

"He might not be able to c-control himself, if you do..." Kylar felt was necessary to tack on in a mutter, though it was more a reminder to himself than to you. 

You retreated, watching as he pulled his t-shirt down taut, cheeks bright red.

"A-a-anyway, we can watch some anime, I guess."

That sounded nice. But so did your new little game of seeing how far you could push Daddy's limits.