Dumb [Tier 3 Exclusive] (Patreon)

“You completed your doctorate this year, yes? You are now a PhD?”

She nodded silently.

“That’s very impressive. And you had gotten your master’s before this? Graduated top of your class?”

Another nod.

“Tell me more. What else have you accomplished?”

She opened her mouth slowly  - initially unable to form words. She wasn’t expecting to have to talk.

“I...had a piece published in Medical Science Journal earlier this year. I speak three languages fluently.”

“More,” he said.

“I...had to choose between medical school and taking a seat on the philharmonic orchestra.”

“Ah yes. You are a virtuoso, of sorts, on the...violin?”

“Viola,” she corrected.

He smiled. “Go on. I’m sure there’s more.”

“I was featured in Newsmonth last year. ‘30 Up and Coming World-Changers Under 30.’”

“You’re endlessly fascinating. Such a treasure, really. So smart. So talented. So intelligent and able. Capable. Strong. Determined. Focused. Dedicated.”

She blushed a little. It was rare that she was ever humbled in talking about her own accomplishments. She wasn’t cocky - just self assured. She had done the work, why shouldn’t she have enjoyed the praise?

But this? This was entirely different. He paced around her. She was, of course, in the center of the room and on her knees. Almost completely nude.

“Is it hard?” he asked. “Talking about all these momentous accomplishments of yours while you’re...well...like that?”

Her cheeks rosied further and she looked down to the ground. She shifted a little, her bottom crinkling loud as it rubbed against the backs of her legs.

She wore only a large thick diaper. White with an infantile teal and pink print on it.

“Do you see?” he asked, holding his cell phone in front of him. “I’m taking pictures of you. The world’s most accomplished woman...on her knees in diapers. I imagine Newsmonth would find these photos very interesting, don’t you?”

Click. Click.

She sniffled a little.

“Is that...a tear? Oh, wow. Yes, hold on - I want to get a photo of that too. That, right there. That’s gold.”

Click.

“You may fool everyone else. I can see how, of course. You’ve done all these great things and built a wall out of degrees and certificates. You are seen as exactly how you want to be seen. Until you’re with me. We’ve done away with all your walls. And what are we left with?”

He put his heavy hands on her slender shoulders, massaging them lightly. Nothing regressed her faster than seeing the size of his hands on her body. She let out a little noise - almost a sigh, almost a moan.

“Just a little girl,” he said, answering his own question. “A desperate little thing who wants all these awful things that she isn’t supposed to want. Is that right?”

She nodded.

“No, dear. I’m afraid I need to hear you say it.”

“Yes.”

He laughed. “No. Try again. Tell me what you want. What you actually want. And, keep in mind, that what you say is what you’ll get. I wouldn’t skimp on the details. Don’t be modest.”

She swallowed, clearly thinking over exactly what she wanted to say. She wanted to get this right. She was, after all, a perfectionist.

“I am...just a little girl,” she said slowly. Hesitantly. “All the time...I’m just pretending to be a big girl.”

He was tempted to ask her to elaborate, but he bit his tongue. She looked like she had more to say, and he wanted to give her this chance first.

“I need to be reminded of how small I am. How pathetic. How...insignificant I am. I don’t deserve the things I’ve taken for granted as a big girl.”

“Like?”

“The toilet.”

“Well, you’re wearing your toilet now.”

“I need to be kept in them,” she said. “I don’t deserve panties. I would just...ruin them. I...ruin panties often.”

He smiled and nodded. “I bet you do. Tell me more about that.”

“Sometimes…uhm…I’ve been in classes, or in meetings and interviews. And I’ll just start…”

“Go on,” he cooed. “You can say it.”

“I pee my pants a little.”

“You don’t say. Do you tinkle in your little panties?”

“Y-yes…”

He laughed and shook his head condescendingly.

“I can’t make my own decisions,” she continued. “I need to be told what to do. I’m not this smart and motivated person. I’m...stupid. I’m just dumb and small and helpless and…” Her voice had gotten progressively meeker and softer until it just faded into silence. Tears were running down her cheeks. She looked up to him with pleading eyes. Pleading for what? He wondered if she even knew.

He stood before her, lifting her chin up towards him with two gentle fingers. He didn’t say anything immediately - he just wanted to look down into her longing eyes. He wanted her to look up into his eyes so that she would just further melt into the more primal toddler she wanted to be.

It worked every time.

“Just how small are you right now?” he asked.

She blushed. “Uhm…”

He thought that she’d have more to say, but she chose to show him instead of tell him. She was still smart like that, regardless of how regressed she seemed otherwise.

Her face was locked with determination. Eyes closed, face a little redder. He knew this look, and he walked around to her backside and watched as she leaned forward a little - likely more for his benefit than hers. She knew what he wanted to see.

For a moment, there seemed to be no change. Then, from the very bottom of her diaper, a dark spot formed. It slowly grew in size, encompassing more and more of the bottom of the diaper. It spread, assumedly, to the front of her diaper just as it spread up the back of it. Finished with completely flooding herself, she leaned back, once more pinning her now-soggy diaper between the backs of her legs and her bottom.

“You just couldn’t help yourself, could you?” he said. He walked back around to face her head-on again.

She offered only a small shrug.

There were times when he liked to be in charge. Or needed to be. He wasn’t sure that this was one of those times. Sometimes it was nice to just watch her slip deeper into her headspace and see where it went. Her lack of direction was all she needed.

Without further provocation, her body lurched forward again, landing on her hands and knees. She was mobile now, slowly crawling across the room. He wondered how the world looked out of her eyes when she was like this. She knew this room well enough - she’s the one who furnished it, after all - but that’s not how she was looking at it while crawling. Wide eyes, open mouth - it was like seeing the world anew.

He walked to her desk, where her laptop was open. She was somewhere in the middle of a project. Multiple browser tabs open. Various iterations and drafts opened simultaneously. Big long science-y words. He’d love to see her try and pronounce a word like “androstadienone” right about now. Next to the computer were her journals and notebooks. He flipped through the pages, admiring her perfect handwriting and organized notes. Such a gifted mind…

She crawled past him on the floor, her thick diaper wagging back and forth in the air as she shifted her weight from side to side.

...when she was capable of acting like an adult.

“Come here,” he said to her.

She slowly spun her body around before crawling across the room to him again. She stopped at his feet, parking her diaper on the back of her legs again so that she could look up at him.

The strut of a toddler, he thought. The obedience of a dog.

“You’ll be a good girl for me, yes?”

She nodded her head enthusiastically. She tried to say something - maybe there was a hint of real words within her babble, but it came out as something messy and infantile: “Me gah for you…”

He liked her like this.

“You want to make Daddy happy, don’t you?”

Another nod.

He reached back to her desk, taking a random page from one of her notebooks and gently tore it from its binding. He turned to her again, offering the piece of paper to her. On it, she had carefully scrawled out paragraphs of notes. It meant nothing to him - he wondered if these were old notes or if these were things she needed.

“What do you see when you look at this?” he asked. “Do you understand all these words, baby?”

She scratched her head and took the page from him. She stared at it - really focused on it - and he could see the wheels trying to turn in her head. She wanted so badly to make sense of it. Somewhere, she knew that this was something she had seen before. But that time and place was far from where she was.

“No know,” she said softly, offering a small shrug.. She almost sounded ashamed.

“Oh it's no big deal,” he said with a smile. “These are just silly things for another time. They’d mean nothing for a little girl like you.”

She shook her head. “Nuh-uh.”

“And so, then, what sorts of things are actually for little girls like you?”

“Uhm…” Bless her, she had to think about it. She had to think about it real hard, too. “Diapees?”

“Oh, yes,” he said with a nod. “That sounds right. Diapers are certainly for little girls like you. Is there anything else?”

He might have been fishing for another response. But she wouldn’t know this.

She shrugged, but almost immediately looked down at the ground. He lifted her face up slowly, a single finger under her chin, so that he could see her glowing pink cheeks.

“I think you might know of something.”

“Well...uhm...I wike to…”

Those words coming out of her mouth. The slurred consonants. He absolutely adored it.

“Go on.”

“Pwease, Daddy? May I?”

“Oh, but sweetheart, you haven’t even told me what it was you wanted to do.”

Her face grew a little more crimson as she shook her head. She didn’t want to say it. Or...she couldn’t.

“Maybe you can show me?”

She gave a tiny nod and reached up towards his pants. She pawed at his belt and zipper, but didn’t seem able to make any sense of them. Thankfully he was more than willing to step in, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants for her. He probably could’ve done a little more to make himself accessible to her - he was tempted to - but he figured that even she could figure out what to do from here.

She had proven him correct. Her fingers dug into his boxers and managed to peel them down enough so that his semi-erect shaft popped out and into her face.

She stared at it with hungry eyes. He loved that look.

“Does that look good?” he asked.

She nodded. She was practically salivating.

“Why don’t you help yourself,” he said to her.

She complied, leaning forward with her drooly mouth and consumed the near-entirety of his cock immediately. She may have, willfully, lost her ability to operate zippers and read science notes, but her cock-sucking prowess only seemed enhanced.

Her eagerness came close to flustering him, and he did his best not to become overwhelmed. Within less than two minutes, she had him on the ropes. With just a few more twists of her lips or flicks of her tongue, she’d be swallowing his load. It was as tempting as it was embarrassing for him.

“That’s enough for now, little one,” he cooed softly, easing her off from his shaft. Her wet lips opened and closed as she was gently pushed away, still yearning and hungering for more. “We’ll come back to that, I promise.”

A small and pathetic whimper came from her pouting lips. “But…”

“I know, I know. You want more, don’t you?”

She nodded.

“It’ll just have to wait.”

He left her, kneeling in the center of the room with drool leaking out from the side of her mouth, as he took a casual stroll around the room. For one, he wanted to compose himself a little better. But too, it never hurt to see what he was working with. Certificates, diplomas, and various awards decorated the walls. Photos of her playing the viola in Paris, Tokyo, and Lisbon. All these accomplishments, and there she was, pissing her pants like a giant baby while begging to suck his cock some more.

The truth was that he was jealous. She had accomplished so much, through her hard work, determination, and natural intelligence. He had not accomplished a fraction of what she had. He sometimes wondered what she saw in him at all.

Someone willing to change her diapers, likely.

He made a point of not questioning it too much, when he could help it. It was an honor to be the one helping her to slip into this adult-baby state when she needed it. If someone as important and gifted as her trusted him for this task, that had to say something about him as a person, right?

“Daddy?” she cooed from the floor.

“Yes, Baby?”

“Uhm…”

“Did you need something?”

“Uh, no…”

“Silly silly little girl. Do you think that I don’t know you by now?”

She shrugged.

“What is it that you want, sweetheart? Do you want me to change your dirty didee?”

She slowly shook her head, cheeks glowing a little at his use of that infantile term.

“Are you hungry?”

“Uhm…”

“Should I get you some food? Would you like that?”

“Y-yes, Daddy.”

He knew just where to go. In her bedroom, in a large suitcase under her bed, were all the naughty little things that nobody was supposed to see. When flutist Ann Marie Bordecielo visited, or Dr. Herman Greene, one could be sure that the diapers and infantile paraphernalia was tucked out of sight.

From the suitcase, he pulled out a jar of baby food—strained peas, a bib, and one of her baby spoons. Then, for good measure, he decided to take out an extra diaper, along with some wipes and some baby powder. If she didn’t need them now, there was no doubt that she’d need them eventually.

He wished she owned a big high-chair, liked the ones he had seen adorable adult-baby women sitting in online. He had brought that up to her once, and she said: “Someday.”

Someday she’d have a bigger home, and she’d have a nursery for herself. Someday she’d have a giant changing table, a big crib, and a high-chair. Someday. He could only hope that when that day came–and he believed it would–he’d still be needed to take care of her.

“Does Baby want her num-nums?” he said, returning to her.

But he had caught her in an awkward moment, it seemed. Her face was bright red, and he caught the tail-end of a grunting noise.

“Oh,” he said, his mouth slowly twisting into a smile. “Am I interrupting something?”

She made a momentary effort to speak: “I…uhm…” Yet, she quickly abandoned it, likely unable to concentrate on performing and talking about it at the same time.

“You didn’t tell me you had to go poo-poo,” he said. “Is that what you’re doing?”

“Uhm…”

“Go on. You can tell me, sweetie.”

“I, uhm, y-yes, Daddy.”

“Yes, what?”

“I…have to…” She shook her head, perhaps able to see that there was a more accurate way to say it. “I…am…doing it. Er…pooping.”

No sooner had the word left her mouth and she was grunting again. Though, by this time, it seemed she was already just about done. In the midst of her explaining what she was doing, the smell had already wafted into his nose–the naughty pungent odor of a giant baby using her diapers as intended. He was disappointed he missed most of the show when he left the room, though he suspected that moment of privacy was what made it possible in the first place.

“Pew,” he said, chuckling softly. “You most certainly have done it.”

“D-don’t be mad,” she said, cheeks flared red as she looked down at the ground.

“Oh, don’t be silly. I could never be mad at a little girl doing exactly what I’d expect a little girl to do.”

“Really?” She slowly looked up from the floor and to his face, towering high above hers.

He nodded. “In fact, I’d say that you’re a very good girl for doing that.”

“Mm,” she muttered in response. As contemplative as it was approving.

“You wouldn’t do that in the company of others, would you? I can’t imagine how you’d talk your way out of an important meeting or interview after filling your panties with mush.”

“I…uhm…”

“Yeah?”

“Well…”

“I don’t think you’d be hesitating as much if the answer was just ‘no.’”

“I want to,” she said.

It was important, he had learned from experience, to continuously remind her of what a dirty little baby she was. And so he waved an exaggerated hand in front of his nose for a moment before continuing the conversation. “You want to? What, exactly, do you want to do? Poop your pants in the midst of some meeting? While giving a presentation?”

“Y-yes,” she said.

He’d have asked her to elaborate, but maybe that’d have been asking too much. In any case, the answer was clear. She wanted to be a disgusting little baby–the one he saw in front of him now–all the time.

For a moment, he was distracted by the fantasy of that scenario playing out. Some academic meeting. Maybe a job interview, as she was deep into that process recently. Hell, maybe she was sitting on stage, in the midst of a viola solo–assuming such a thing existed–when she suddenly gave in to the urges of her bowels and pushed a squishy mess into her pampers.

He was rock hard again.

“Well, I wasn’t quite ready to change your diaper yet,” he said, hoping to steer things back to reality again.

“But…”

“Yes, Baby?”

“Daddy…my diaper is, uhm, stinky. I need changing.”

“And you’ll get one, dearie. When I’m ready to give you one.”

“But…”

“Not another word about it, or I’ll pull you over my lap and paddle your smelly bottom. Would you like that?”

She said: “No,” but her bright red cheeks and shifting eyes betrayed that message. He didn’t acknowledge it, but he did make note of that observation.

“Maybe I’ll change you after you’ve eaten,” he said.

“M-maybe?”

“Eat first, and then we’ll talk about it.”

She offered no response at all. Not even a head-shake or nod. He could see that as an act of defiance in itself, if he wanted to. He let it go. He still felt plenty in charge, and that was all he needed.

“Strained peas,” he said, showing her the jar. “Yum!”

“Ugh.”

“Well I certainly didn’t pick out this flavor. You buy all of your own baby food while you’re pretending to be a big girl.”

She made another disgusted face, sticking her tongue out at the thought of the greenish brown glop going into her mouth.

He considered relocating her, but he kind of liked the precariousness of her current situation. She remained on her knees, with her dirty diaper drooping off of her bottom. She could sit back on legs if she wanted to, but not without making a bigger mess of her diaper. Or, she could remain kneeling upright uncomfortably.

“First thing’s first. Baby needs her bib.” He stood behind her, tying the tiny bib–pastel pink with a cartoon cat face on it–around her neck.

The lid of the jar was unscrewed with a satisfying ‘pop’ noise. The little spoon was dipped into the jar, and he stirred around the mushy food with it. It was foul stuff, to both look at and smell. He wondered if this was what put kids into therapy later in life–long-term resentment over having been powerless to stop their parents from feeding them such slop.

“Open wide,” he said with a grin. “Here comes the airplane!”

Her mouth opened, hesitantly. He took his time, guiding the tiny spoonful of glop through the air at a leisurely speed–complete with airplane sound effects. The look of despair on her face only seemed to heighten as the spoon edged closer to her lips. Until, at last, there was a successful landing.

Almost instantaneously, her face had grown pale and her lips bent into an exaggerated frown.

“Delicious, yes?” he asked.

She awkwardly swallowed it. “N-no…”

“No? What do you mean? It’s food for babies. And you’re a baby!”

“No good,” she said. “P-please. No more…”

“Goodness, Baby, we can’t stop now. I just opened this jar of food! It’d go to waste! I think you’re going to have to finish it.”

“But, I don’t think–”

“This isn’t really a conversation, Baby,” he said. “It doesn’t matter whether you like it or not. You’re going to have to eat it.”

She offered a very dramatic pout, but had nothing further to say about it.

“Now then,” he continued, “let’s get Mr. Airplane in with another delivery.”

While she may have made it clear that she did not like the food, she offered no resistance when the second spoonful slipped through her lips. She uncomfortably swallowed it.

“That’s a good girl. Look, it’s not that big of a jar. Keep it up, and you’ll be done in no time!”

But it was the third spoonful where she found herself unable to keep up the charade any longer. She wasn’t even able to swallow the foul mouthful, instead pushing it right back out from her lips with her tongue. It fell from her face, missing the too-small bib entirely, splattering onto her chest.

It would’ve been a good opportunity to feign anger or frustration with her, but he simply couldn’t when she looked this helplessly adorable. Kneeling in her dirty diaper, baby food on her face and chest, it was more than he could’ve ever asked for. He set the baby food jar down so that he could snap a few more photos. For later–he’d want to make sure she saw herself the way that he was now.

Click. Click.

“Well if you’re not going to eat this food, and I don’t want to just throw it away, what am I supposed to do with it?” he asked.

She shrugged.

“I suppose I’ll just add it to your diaper.”

“Wh-what? But…”

“One way or another, this baby food would’ve eventually ended up in a diaper. If you’re not going to eat it, I’ll just put it there myself.”

Her mouth opened again, likely to further protest this, but she ultimately said nothing. She remained in place, seemingly willing to let it happen.

“Nothing else to say?” he asked. “No more fussing?”

She remained silent.

“I figured as much. Just a dumb little baby, either filling her diaper or letting someone else fill it for her.”

He orbited her, and when he reached her backside, he pulled open the back of her diaper. Another wave of putrid stink rolled out and smacked him in the face. Disgusting, but mouth-watering. Looking down into the diaper, he could see the dark brown mess she had pushed into it. He’d be seeing it again, soon enough. For now, he tilted the baby food jar to its side and used the little baby spoon to guide the glop down the back of her diaper.

A little noise escaped her lips, a sort of: “Muh!” It didn’t seem like much of a negative noise to him.

“Well then, now that we’ve settled that, I think it’s time for that paddling I promised, don’t you?”

“Uh…n-no, Daddy.”

“No?”

“I be good girl,” she said.

He recalled the notes sitting on her desk, dense paragraphs crafted with an expert handling of the English language. And here she was now, unwilling to talk in full sentences.

“Please?” she asked.

“Please, what?”

“I…want to suck on Daddy again.”

He wished he could say no. He wished he could keep this game going all day–but he didn’t have that sort of willpower himself. He wanted her mouth on him again. Soon after, she’d suck him dry. Soon after that, she’d get her diaper changed. Then the spell would be broken, for now, and she’d go back to being the most amazing young adult the world had ever seen.

“Very well, Baby,” he said, unzipping his pants for her. “Have it your way.”

She took his hard shaft with both hands, and guided it into her mouth. She suckled on it loudly and sloppily. When her mouth would finally slide off from him for the last time today, he reckoned, she’d leave behind a trail of saliva and flecks of baby food.

He gazed out at the wall again, spotting a photo of her shaking hands with Yo-Yo Ma. He laughed aloud, shaking his head. All of her talent and intelligence, all the amazing things she had–and would–achieve. And here she was now, desperately slurping away at his cock with a diaper full of her own mess and baby food.

Such a dumb little girl. Such an absolutely pathetic little baby.