Cuckolded & Diapered - Chapter 6 (Patreon)

"Dad?" Kate asked as she stepped into the nursery to be met by a shocking sight.

The nursery was completed by an adult-sized crib, a changing table big enough for her father, and pink pastel colors on the walls alongside glitter stars. It had a sense of innocence and playfulness. And she would've taken it that way had it not been for the man she knew as her father. John was lying on the floor inside a playpen, wearing a pink dress, the type any little girl would kill for. His hair was done in ridiculous pigtails.

John recognized his daughter almost immediately. As soon as she walked in, he rushed to hide behind a giant teddy bear inside his playpen. When he did, Kate saw in full display the thick diaper he was wearing underneath his dress.

"Dad, is that you?”

Kate's voice quavered as she took in the sight before her. John managed to push the teddy bear aside with all his shaking, exposing his diaper-clad bottom. Kate's eyes widened in shock and horror.

"What's happening here?" she asked, her voice cracking.

John, still shaking, whimpered. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to visit," Kate answered with confusion in her voice, "What the...Why are you wearing that? Where's Mom? What's going on? Is that a diaper?" She demanded, refusing to look away from her dad, who was hiding like a toddler caught doing something naughty.

"She's with Daddy," John responded, his voice quivering with fear.

"Who's Daddy?" Kate asked, her tone accusatory. But then she noticed something about her dad's diaper. It grew thicker and yellower as he answered, "Are you wetting yourself?”

John blushed but nodded, "I'm sorry. It happens when I get scared.”

"Who's Daddy, Dad?”

"Daddy is our neighbor's son," he replied, his cheeks turning crimson, "He's been staying with us for a few weeks. He's... His name's Jacob. And...Mom and him. They.”

She didn't need to hear any more of it. "Why are you dressed like that?" Kate insisted, pointing at the thick diaper covering her father's bottom.

Joan sat back on the floor. He fought the urge to suck on his thumb, a habit he had picked up in the last few weeks. Seeing his daughter in front of him brought back memories of being a man, a father, and a husband. He couldn't cope with that idea. Not anymore. So he began sobbing.

"Why are you crying? What's going on? Dad!”

But John kept sobbing.

For a second, the only noise inside the nursery was John's sobs and Kate's breathing. She didn't move or say anything as she watched the man she had considered a superhero when she was a kid cry like a toddler. But something inside her pushed her towards her diapered father. An instinct to comfort him and remind him that everything was okay. That he didn't have to cry. No one would hurt him.

An instinct she listened to.

She hugged her father, embracing his weak and pathetic self in her ample bosom, kissing his forehead. Kate didn't know what she was doing. But it didn't matter. She wanted answers, and a crying baby wouldn't be of help to anyone, even if that baby was twice her age and had changed her own diapers when she was the baby.

Joan accepted his daughter's embrace and found it as comforting as sucking his thumb. It took a few minutes for him to stop sobbing. But the warmth of his daughter's embrace made him feel safer. Protected. It made him feel almost as good as when he was held by Daddy.

"Now, can you explain to me what happened? Where's mom? Who's Jacob? Why are you wearing this?"

"Because they made me," Joan whispered, avoiding eye contact. It was the truth, though. He wasn't forced to do it anymore. In fact, he chose it. But he couldn't say that to his daughter. Neither option would save his pride. At least by blaming Jacob and Sarah, he could retain some sympathy from her. Pity, perhaps.

"Who are 'they'?" Kate pressed further.

And for the next twenty minutes, John explained what had happened, from Jacob and Sarah's flirting in the BBQ to him being forced back to wear diapers. He told his daughter about his new name and how he was forced to use diapers ever since. He didn't say anything about giving Daddy blowjobs or messing himself and summing in his diaper. However, he did confine in her the fact Jacob and Sarah were now a thing, and he called them Daddy and Mommy, respectively. John explained as much as he could about his new lifestyle and how degrading it was. He had not been allowed into a bathroom alone in a month, and he was afraid he couldn't hold his bladder or bowels anymore.

When the tale was over, John’s thumb was once again inside his mouth, something Kate found oddly cute.

"Baby Jo, then?"

John nodded.

"I have to say," she paused, admiring the work Jacob had done on her father, "It rather suits you.”

"How can you say that?!" Joan asked, stomping his feet on the ground, looking like a ridiculous toddler throwing a tantrum. His hair was now long, shoulder-length, and it was perfectly done in pigtails. His diaper forced his legs apart, making him waddle. The pink dress reminded her of the dresses her mom forced her to wear when she was a toddler herself.

"Don't get grumpy with me," Kate said, "I'm not the one that did this to you."

“But..."

It did suit him. She had thought of her father as sensitive -- A bit effeminate, perhaps, especially since she left home and got to know what real men were. Still, she always thought of him as her rock. A man with principles and inner strength. That view of her father was gone, though. It left as soon as she witnessed him peeing himself out of fear.

"No buts. Do you need a diaper change?"

He shook his head. The thought of having his daughter changing his wet diaper wasn’t a pleasant one. He did needed a change, but he would have to wait for Sarah to come back. He wondered if she also needed to be changed. Daddy had liked the idea of keeping her in diapers when she misbehaved.

“What about your baba?”

He blushed, shaking his head.

"A nap?”

"I'm not sleepy. And I'm not a baby," he lied.

“It doesn’t look like that’s true, though.”

John blushed so hard it seemed he had turned crimson.

"You were playing when I walked in. Right?”

He nodded.

"What were you playing?”

"With my dolls," he said, pausing, thinking about how stupid that answer must've sounded.

"Are you going to introduce me to them?”

"Well, this one's called Kate 'cause she looks like you," he said, and the shame sorta faded away as he continued, "And that's Sarah 'cause she looks like Mommy. And the baby's John, but he's a girl.”

Kate was astonished at the fast shift between her dad's two personalities. It was as if in front of her was a little girl trapped in the body of a man.

They played together for almost an hour until Kate noticed something in Joan's face. He seemed distracted. Stressed. But before she could ask if there was anything wrong with him, he stood up, squatted down right there, and a loud fart escaped his rear. His face reflected the physical effort she had seen before on many toddlers. She couldn't believe it. Here he was, her own father, shitting himself right in front of her, not even caring about it. It took a few minutes, but when he was done, he went back to playing with his dolls as if it was the most normal thing. Not caring about her daughter being present or the awful smell.

"Dad," she said.

John didn't look at her.

“Jo?"

He turned.

"Do you need a change?"

It might’ve been the concern behind his daughter’s eyes. Perhaps it was just the battle between his manhood and girlhood, but her question brought him back to reality. And when he understood what she meant, he could do nothing but nod. He wasn’t going to stay in his messy diaper until Sarah decided to return. And what he had been fearing since Kate arrived happened.

She helped him onto the changing table, and even if she wasn't experienced, she pushed forward by opening the tapes to her father's mess. She was greeted with a horrid smell, and in between the mess, she couldn't find her father's balls and penis. So she began cleaning, pretending the smell wasn't that bad.

"Oh my," she said, "You truly are a big stinker."

He blushed, looking away.

His daughter wasn't as good at changing diapers as his wife, but she did the job as best as could be done. By the time she finished, he was clean again. She proceeded to powder his crotch, paying extra attention to his tights and balls, and rear. Her touch was gentle, almost loving. It was the most gentle touch he had felt in a long time, and that hurt him.

"I'm sorry," he said, tearing up a little, "I'm sorry I'm not the father you deserve."

She said nothing at first but then smiled, "But you could be the little sister I've always wanted."