The Perils of Putting in Pull-Ups (Patreon)

Thanks to our super-amazing Gold-tier patron Samantha for commissioning this one!

***

It was barely nine o'clock in the morning on this sunny Saturday, but Alesha was already being a naughty girl.

Not that she let on, of course. Not that she'd tell Josh, who was still humming loudly in the shower. He wouldn't notice the tell-tale crinkle in her step… or if he did, it would be far too late for him to do anything about it.

She grinned as she stepped into the Goodnites and slid them smoothly up her freshly-shaven legs. Yeah, there'd been a day when she'd loathed the very idea of things as humiliating as pull-ups, let alone diapers. And yet somehow… somehow Josh had changed everything for her. He'd been the first guy ever to tease her and play as her Daddy.  He'd shown her just what a rush this kind of humiliation was, and just how hot it could be – within bounds, of course – to purposely run the risk of everyone seeing you and thinking you genuinely had no control… that you genuinely needed to wear that universal, crinkly sign of childishness and babyhood…

And now for the skirt! On it went, nice and crisp and perilously short, barely brushing the tops of her knees. It would be simply perfect for the day ahead: a day on the golf course with Josh's friends. A day that, without the heady thrill of possibly exposing her crinkling booty for the world to see, would frankly be… well, a bit boring.

It was golf, after all.

Oh, yeah. She twirled in the mirror, biting her lip in mischievous delight at the momentary flash of pastel-and-white padding between her thighs. Hey – it was her underwear, and her choice. If she wanted to wear pretty crinkly underwear under her skirt, then why shouldn't she? Nothing wrong with that, right?

Though if she was being honest, most of the thrill was coming from the fact that she'd put it on without even asking Josh's permission. Now that was the sort of move to earn her a spanking across his knee tonight… a wonderful, sexy spanking across her naughty little booty…

***

"Fore!"

Alesha raised her arm and squinted into the sun, trying to pick out the flight of Josh's ball as it went sailing away over the green. Dammit, why was golf such a slow game? This was, what – only the fourth hole? At this rate it would be nearly five before they finished… and that didn't bode well at all for her.

Oh, ordinarily she probably wouldn't have minded. Their friends Pam and Harry were nice enough, after all – always joking, and talking about the latest TV shows, and generally being fun to be around. But right now? Well… for certain reasons she was becoming increasingly uncomfortable.

Desperate, even.

What the hell was wrong with her gut? she puzzled, hefting her clubs and trotting awkwardly after the others toward the cart. Within an hour of their bubble tea stop on the way to the course, she'd begun feeling a wrenching and a churning in her gut – almost exactly as it did when she'd had dairy. But… no, she couldn't have! Josh knew she was lactose-intolerant, after all. He'd ordered her drink for her and everything. Surely he wouldn't have forgotten something as important as that…

"Come on, 'Leesh! Hurry up!"

She broke into a trot, every jolt seeming to twist the gurgling knots in her belly tighter. "I'm- coming," she panted, trying desperately to ignore her growing predicament. She just had to focus- had to keep her head in the game and her eye on the ball and all those things. Had to listen to the others and let their silly banter keep her mind from obsessing over the idea that she was a good ten-minute golf cart ride away from the nearest bathroom, and that running off now would hold up their entire party, and that Josh would tease her about being such a little potty-trotter…

Oh, yeah. She was still wearing pull-ups under her skirt, wasn't she?

She shivered as Josh slipped his arm around her to steady her on the rocking cart. "Having fun, babe?" he asked brightly. And of course, she smiled and said yes, of course she was! It was so nice out, and so sunny, and so green… If he noticed the empty banality of her words, he didn't notice. He simply patted her leg and slipped off the cart once more, ready to tackle the fifth hole.

"Hey, Josh, you go first this time!" Harry was urging, and so, with a confident grin, Josh did. One clean swing of his club, and the ball was arcing beautifully, sailing over to roll gently to a stop maybe ten yards from the hole. "Great! Now, Alesha – your turn! Go on, you've got your ball, right?"

Oh, she did: held within trembling and sweating palms. She needed to- no, she just had to tell them- she couldn't hold on much longer- "Go on, it's tee time!" Pam laughed, her inane pun falling flat on Alesha's ears. For her brain was far too busy doing an anxious risk assessment. Putting the ball on the tee meant bending over. And bending over at the waist meant flashing her pull-ups to her friends. She'd have to bend at the knees, then, thanks to her stupid little pull-ups idea. Squatting down just as if she was…

She froze in wide-eyed fear as the first sudden, uncontrollable spurt tooted out of her. "Oh, girl! Better out than in–" But Alesha wasn't listening to Pam's giggles anymore. She was feeling things: feeling with growing horror and dismay as a veritable tsunami of mush forced its way out of her desperately clenching bumhole. Her pull-up was filling, filling with her own poo, filling as she squatted there like a naughty little toddler girl having a smelly little accident…

Only she wasn't little, and nor was her mess.

"Oh, god! Alesha, are you feeling okay-?" That was Pam, brightly clueless as ever. "Um, what's going on?" That was Harry, staring uncertainly down at her. "Babe… oh, honey! Hey, I'm here…" That was Josh, her savior. She gulped and shuddered as he pulled her upright, and she felt another spurt of poo slip out, packing the gooey mess between her thighs even tighter. God, she was still messing, even as she walked- even as Josh was leading her to the cart.

Messing uncontrollably… just like a literal baby.

"Looks like Alesha's not feeling well," he explained briskly over his shoulder, pushing her into the cart and slipping in beside her. "Don't worry – we just need to clean up a little accident, okay? So sorry! Here, take your clubs, okay? We'll be back in a jiffy…" And then he was turning to her, his hand insistently forcing her stiffening limbs to bend, to lower her toward the seat. "Go on, babe. You gotta sit! Can't have you falling off…"

Oh, the squelch and warm gooey squish beneath her as she sank down onto her loaded pull-up was unlike anything she'd ever experienced. As was that ride: swaying, jolting, every little shift and bump reminding her of the infantile mess within her pants… the mess that was probably even now oozing out, staining her tiny little skirt. And all the while Josh was talking exactly as a daddy might to their four-year-old: explaining that accidents happened, that he wasn't mad, that she just should have told him if she had to go…

It was only when they were safely in the large, gleaming family bathroom with the door securely locked that the truth came out… in the form of her visibly soiled pull-up.

"Alesha! What are you wearing?!" She gulped, stammered, blushed. "A- a- pull-up…" "I don't remember telling you to wear a pull-up, honey," Josh sternly reprimanded, spinning her and surveying the brown-tinged, sagging rear of the poor garment. "Didn't I tell you that I'm the one who decides when you wear them?"

He sighed and shook his head. "I'm so disappointed in you, you naughty girl! You deliberately disobeyed me, didn't you?" She was starting to tear up now, as much from his reprimanding words as from the sheer humiliation of it all. "I'm sorry," she quavered at last – but he was not impressed. "Honey, you're just sorry you got caught," he curtly replied, deft fingers reaching down to unhook his belt. "I'm going to have to punish you, Alesha. Punish you for disobeying me, and for making such an embarrassing mess of yourself in front to everyone…"

Why wasn't the belt coming out? Why was Josh unzipping his- pants-

As his erect cock sprang eagerly forward to meet her wide-eyed gaze, Josh reached over and laid first one hand, then another on her quivering shoulders. "Down," he commanded in a dangerously stern tone – the tone of a Daddy in the bedroom, about to teach his bratty girl a lesson. "Down on your poopy, smelly little pull-up butt. That's right. Nice and dirty and smelly. Now then, open up. You know what to do, baby. Sink it in the hole… just like when you're golfing, okay? You're gonna use that pretty mouth of yours to apologize… that is, if you ever want to get changed."

Oh. GOD.

As her trembling lips parted and slipped obediently around his smoothly curved shaft, he let out a growling chuckle. "Oh, you're such a little brat, aren't you? Thought you were all cute and clever in your pull-up? Thought I didn't notice?" She almost gagged at the tickle of his cock against the back of her throat, but he merely laughed and let her pull back for a second before tugging her forward once more with a gurgling whimper. "Well, I guess we've found out both our little secrets, huh? Your secret pull-up… and my secret milk tea– just full of rich, creamy milk I knew would make you have an accident in your pants. After all, if you wanted to wear pull-ups like an accident-prone little girl, I figured I'd make sure you used them… just like the dirty, naughty little girl you are…"

No. He'd- he'd literally slipped her dairy- just to punish her- She was gagging now, crying openly, her tear-streaked face and running mascara joining with the audible squelch and smell from her loaded pull-ups in a symphony of shame and mortification. He'd- he'd done all this to her!, part of her raged. And yet, he hadn't entirely. She'd disobeyed the rules, after all. She was being punished fair and square… yes, like the dirty, humiliated little girl she deserved to be…

And now, as Josh's breathing grew more labored and the rhythm of her bobbing head quickened, he let out a barking laugh. "Don't worry- babe! I- I came… ooh, fuck yeah! prepared…" His fingers were tightening in her hair, pumping her messy, slobbering face back and forth on his engorged cock like a palm tree in a hurricane. "You didn't look- uhhhh- in my bag. I- Right in the- bottom- I've got a diaper- Oh, fuck- fuck- a big ol' diaper waiting- just for you! It's- you're- gonna look so cute- oooohhhhh- waddling back- with that- sticking out- under your- skirt…"

As the hot, sticky spurts of Josh's cum jetted out into her gulping throat, Alesha shuddered in a paroxysm of her own horror and humiliation. And yet, she was horrified less at the bare idea of her friends seeing her waddling across the fairway in the full-on diaper of a shamefaced toddler… and more at the infuriating tingles of arousal that even now – despite everything – the humiliating prospect was unleashing within her.

So much for golf being a boring game.