All adults featured in this story are over 18 years old. This story is fictional and contains role-play between consenting adults. This story has nothing to do with real children.

Paternal Instinct

by Daddy John

I think it was my paternal instinct, when I discovered the ABDL world that came out with protective feelings for these sweet girls who just wanted to recreate their babyhood. I obliged as a Daddy for a while, but something was missing. What that was I discovered with Mary and Nikki. They were very different people, a middle aged woman in her 40s and a young woman in her 20s, but they both had the same very deep desires.

These were not easy to get out of them at first, because they were terrified of what they wanted. It didn’t even sound like much, because they would come for me for play dates and they would happily get in their nappies and baby suits and play for a while, on different occasions I might add. It was the younger girl Nikki who was the first to articulate these depths, which were simply to prolong the baby experience indefinitely and enforce it totally. She spoke in terms of an unattainable fantasy; she was a student of History, she had a career to think of. Mary of course already had a career and was knee deep in mid-life cares of house and car, and she was naturally more reticent. I eventually found the evidence in a story she was always reading, which was about a woman like her forced into the baby life.

The more I thought of Mary and Nikki, the more I became obsessed with the idea of fulfilling their fantasies against their will. It would be the most delicious punishment for both of them, and I would have my babies who would be my babies all the time, and forever. I hatched my plan and waited patiently for the opportunity to carry it out.

It was Mary who came first. She had wangled a whole weekend away from the homestead and she was happy to take off her smart business suit and assume the character of the little girl she had always wanted to be, in terry nappies, plastic pants and pink baby dress, despite being a handsome woman holding her looks well in middle age. We played as usual. I fed her a bottle, changed her nappy, and let her play in the playpen. She especially enjoyed sleeping over in the cot and proudly wet her nappy during the night. But as Sunday afternoon wound down, my plan began unknown to her.

“Okay Daddy, I think I had better be changing back into my grown up clothes,” she said as she sat on the floor playing with Duplo.

“I don’t think so, Mary,” I said casually. “You will stay another night.”

Her face showed alarm. “But I can’t! I have a crucial meeting tomorrow at work.”

“Babies don’t go to business meetings!” I said playfully. Her face was a picture. I was giggling, imagining this outsized baby girl walking in the meeting room and her colleagues open-mouthed with shock.

I got a bit sterner. “I’ve given your suit to a charity shop, Mary. I’ve decided you will stay here with me and be my baby girl from now on.” She was entirely bewildered by this. It was amusing to watch her face contorting as she considered the ramifications of transforming from AB-lite weekender to hardcore baby slave. Just like in her deepest fantasy. It was clear she was simultaneously terrified and stimulated.

“But what about my job?” she mused out loud. I held her mobile phone in front of her, took out the SIM, snapped it in half, and threw it out of the window.

“No-one can call you now, Mary. No-one knows where you are. You will fail to show up at work, and they might look for you for a while, but after a while they will give up. Now, some rules about your new life as my baby girl. You will not be allowed use of the toilet at all, everything will go in your nappy.”

This struck her hard. She usually didn’t mess her nappy, but now she would have to get used to it all the time.

“You will be encouraged to assume the mindset of a baby girl. For me to change your messy nappy, you will have to cry. Also from now on, you will only eat baby food in the high chair and drink from bottles, no more corporate lunches, or cocktails with your colleagues.”

She was still in a state of shock, so I stopped. The rest was implied. She was still quiet when I put her in her night nappy and tucked her in the cot at her new bed-time of 7pm. She took her bottle quietly and sucked on the dummy almost mournfully. I smiled, because I had a surprise for her, she might find pleasant.

After two days of babyhood for Mary, Nikki arrived for her play date. I had to lock Mary in the small room while I took care of Nikki: off came her fashionable top, skirt, bra and knickers, and she too enjoyed the feeling of a cloth nappy around her, and the plastic pants, and a pink dress she was unaware was identical in design to the one Mary was wearing. She looked very pretty with her long auburn hair and high cheekbones, an adorable baby girl with her nappy peeking out from under the short dress.

As Nikki was napping, I took her adult clothes and phone, also with the SIM removed, and gave them to some girl guides collecting for a jumble sale. As she woke up, she smiled. “Oh, Daddy. I don’t want to go back to college. I wish I could be your baby all the time.”

“Oh, Nikki, you will be. I won’t let you go.” Nikky smiled, assuming I was joking.

“I’ve got to go to the cinema with some friends tonight.”

“No you don’t, you will stay with Daddy.” I was being sweet, but firm. It dawned on her that I was being serious.

“But… I have to…” her voice trailed off. Like Mary, she was being both fascinated and repelled. She looked around for her phone.

“No Nikki darling, you will be with Daddy now. But you must know, you will have a sister.” I went to open the little room door and brought in a bemused Mary. They eyed each other.

“You will be sharing a cot with Mary,” I said. It was a stout cot and broad enough for two babies to sleep in comfort.

“But Daddy, I don’t like to share a cot!” she said in horror.

“No Nikki, this is your adorable baby sister. If you notice, you are wearing twin outfits and you will always be my twins.” Mary was smiling as she liked the look of pretty Nikki.

Suddenly Nikki felt her bowels move. “Daddy, I’ve got to use the potty.”

“No Nikki, just like Samantha, you are not allowed the use of the toilet at all. That’s what your nappy is for.”

“I’ve got to poo in my nappy?”

“Yes Nikki, just like the one year old you really are.”

After a short mental struggle, she became resigned and let her nappy fill with a grunt. Poo poo smell wafted in the air.

“Can you change me please Daddy?”

I ignored her and went in the kitchen. I could see Mary bending towards her and whispering, “you have to cry like a real baby.” So Nikki let out a series of sobs and started screaming.

I came back and picked her up and soothed her by jogging. “Did baby do a poopie? Let’s change you and make you all better.” Like Mary, she was not at all used to messing, and lay there mortified as I eased off her plastic pants and unpinned her nappy, wiped off the poo, lotioned her and powdered her, pinned her in a fresh nappy and pulled a pair of clear plastic pants up her legs to cover the nappy. I glanced at the time and it was 6.50 pm.

“OK my little ones. It’s bedtime.” Nikki made a complaining face. “But Daddy! That’s early!”

“No little Nikki, the manual says one year olds should be in bed at 7pm.”

“But it’s still like daytime!”

“Nikki’s getting cranky, I see.” I went to the wardrobe and got their nighties, white stretch fabric with little cartoon teddies. Nikki had just been changed and I checked that Mary was still dry, so I helped them with the nighties. Nikki’s pouting face as she sulkily put her arms through the holes was just priceless. So I carried Nikki on my hip, and led the docile Mary to their big cot. Nikki first, in the inside, and Mary by the opening side. I tucked them in, a blanky each, and they were both sucking their dummies as I pulled up and locked the side, another priceless sight, which made me feel I really was doing the right thing for all of us. As a treat, I let them choose a teddy each to take to bed, Nikki had the little brown monkey and Mary the dappled cow, which I felt reflected on both of their personalities. I smiled as I turned on the night light and the baby intercom, and left them.

I was woken up by two mewling infants at about 6 o’clock the next morning. Nikki had wet heavily, to the point of leaking, and Mary had soiled her nappy, as well as doing a lot of wee. I opened the cot and took Nikki to change first, jogging her on my hip and soothing her, sliding off her plastic pants, unpinning her carefully and putting her sodden nappy in the nappy bucket. She giggled as she smelt of fresh clean powder again, and I pulled on her clear plastic pants. She was then sat in the playpen while I dealt with Mary, and soon she too was a lot happier with a dry and clean nappy. I put them both into pink onesies, and they were both grateful for the bottles of formula I gave them afterwards. Once again, their contented sucking made me smile.

Then it was feeding time, the first of what would be many. Nikki was first in the high chair, and as I was spooning the baby food blueberry muesli into her mouth she wet her nappy again, slightly, and I tutted. Really, she was being adorable today. Then Mary in the high chair for the same, and both in the playpen for playtime while I did other chores such as washing and washing up. In the playpen were rattles, plastic rings, wooden blocks, cloth blocks, more stuffed toys, minus their bedtime teddies, dolls, and on the sides, an activity centre for each of them. “Daddy wants to hear you play,” I said as I walked into the kitchen, and they both obliged making clicking and whirring sounds for Mummy, Nikki squealing with delight.

And so it went on for about a fortnight. Toilet concerns melted away as both of them got into the habit of wetting and soiling without care, just like real babies. Nikki, as I expected, was the naughtier of the two, but I never punished her beyond what a one year old could expect – taking away a favourite doll, sending her to bed early.

They quickly got used to sharing the cot. Neither had much les tendency, they were both daddy oriented.

But they talked, and I listened with rapt fascination to the baby intercom. One night was particularly sweet:

“Are you awake, Mary?” asked Nikki.

“Yes,” said Mary.

“I’m a gots to go poopoo aden,” said Nikki. I was encouraging both of them to talk like babies and they also fell in with this quite readily.

“It’s ok Nikki, you goes poopoo, I wont wooks,” said Mary.

“It not matters anyways,” said Nikki. “We sees each uvver when mummy changies us.” There was a pause and rustling as Nikki filled her nappy. “Ooo a lots of wees too,” she said.

Mary giggled. “I’m a going weewees too.” Nikki giggled. Another pause as they shuffled to make their nappies comfortable. By now, they were used to wet and massy nappies and didn’t cry as much as they used to. I had to check them, like real babies.

“Nikki, do yous ever wants to go back to the weal world?” asked Mary. My ears perked up.

“Sometimes,” said Nikki. “But Daddy’s so nice, I weally wike it.”

“I’ve kind of adjusted, too,” said Mary.

“I weally wike you too Mary,” said Nikki. More rustling. I had to now turn on the hidden webcam, to see Nikki was hugging Mary and they were drifting off in each other’s arms. I could not help smiling broadly that my babies were getting on so well.

There was just one concession after three weeks. Mary led this rebellion. She was missing her friends on the nappy chats and begged me to let them use the computer. I was sceptical, but eventually gave in: only if they were visiting nappy-related sites or otherwise age appropriate sites. I was a member of the nappy clubs as well, as a mummy, and I had met both of them through the wonderful Internet, of course. Even when I saw Mary sneakily reading the news, or Nikki downloading pop songs, I let it go. It bought a sense of balance to their lives and made their baby selves all the more willing.

I had my babies as I wanted. Just like real one year olds, they cried, they gurgled and they wet their nappies. We were all very happy. Was there anything else to be added? I got the idea when I had to call in an electrician. There was nothing for it but to allow him to repair the junction box while Nikki and Mary were in the playpen. His eyes boggled, but he just got on with it, but Mary in particular was visibly embarrassed.

So I talked to my friend Madge, and she was very understanding. When she came round for tea, Nikki was glad of the company and acted out her baby self with Madge, who gently teased Mary with things like, “Ooh, has baby wet her nappy?” Mary was blushing as red as a beetroot, but I knew she was loving it.

Many times I looked at my babies sleeping peacefully at night and wondered at how content we were. But I wanted one last test to see if they would be my babies for ever. One day I got them some grown up clothes and we went out, both in more slimline disposable nappies compared to the thick terry nappies and plastic pants they were used to. We got to a park and sat down on a bench.

“Well,” I said. “You can go now, if you like, resume your adult lives and never see me again, if you want.”

They looked at each other non-plussed.

“Or you can come back with Daddy and be my babies for ever.”

It was a gamble, I knew. I got up and started walking away. I hadn’t got far when I heard a patter of feet behind me and two familiar voices… saying, “Daddy?”

THE END