
Commission for
toddlergirl/
babystar in which her new adult baby character, Star, gets suddenly in touch with her AB side! =D
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Story Text: (Download for better formatting)
Chapter 3:
Star awoke with an ear to ear grin splayed across her face, and remained close to insensibility for nearly an hour, lulled nearly back to sleep by the sound of her own purring. The lynx couldn’t remember the last time she had been so comfortable, years of barracks bunks and campaign hammocks making her modest double seem like the height of comfort and luxury. In her sleep she had curled herself into a ball, wrapped in the soft, down sheets, and enveloped a plush body pillow with her arms, legs, and tail. The bed had become her own little corner of the world, safe and separate from anything and everything, and it made her feel more secure than she had ever known. But the bliss couldn’t last, however, and the age-old enemy of comfort, the villainous Alarm Clock, eventually brought the lynx’s sanctuary to an end.
“Thhyuuut UWP!” Star exclaimed, wiggling free of her cocoon to lay her fury against the clock with a fist, then went still as the ring in her ears faded. What was that in her mouth? What was that between her legs?
With a trembling paw, the feline reached up and pulled the oversized bulb of a pacifier out of her mouth, where it had been suckled without fail for the better part of the night. She looked at it in confusion, then, shaking all over, pulled free of the blankets and looked at her backside. She was wearing a diaper. Not just any diaper, a triple thick sleep diaper for someone with major incontinence, the plastic backing playfully colored light pink. In a rush, the previous day’s events came back to her. Andrew causing problems, her taking him back to her apartment, and the… events, that had followed.
The lynx’s face went from plain to flush hot pink in less than a few seconds, and she scrambled out of her bed. “Ith he thill heww?!” Star exclaimed, lips and tongue feeling oddly constrained from a night of sucking on a pacifier, and unintentionally slurring her speech as a result. No sooner had she hopped off the bed than did she realize just how horribly thick her undergarments were, forcing her legs wider than her shoulders thanks to the thick padding at the crotch. “Who the heck needs these this thick?!” She said, whole face now the color of a clear summer’s sunset, taking very good care not to slur her words this time, and, desperate to be rid of the thing, went at the tapes with her claws until the diaper fell open on the floor. Star sighed with relief, wiping some sweat from her forehead. It wasn’t wet.
Reminded of her other concerns, Star quickly disposed of the diaper and pacifier in her bedroom’s rubbish bin and threw on her discarded track pants. Her ears perked to every nose: morning traffic outside, her automatic coffee maker brewing, someone upstairs taking a shower. No Andrew. She did a quick once-over of her apartment, just to be sure, and found nothing. She took a cup of coffee from the machine, slumped into her couch, and sighed, deeply relieved.
“What the hell are you doing, Star?” she said, realizing just how reckless and impulsive her actions had been that previous night. Andrew had every right to hate her. He was an arrogant rich boy who wanted a command position, probably because it would look good on a political resume, and she was a hard-working service woman who had crawled up through the ranks, and held the very position that he was aiming for. Taking her out of the picture would have left a very nicely sized hole in the ranks for his ego to fill, and she had given him all the ammunition he would ever need. A few snapshots of her, curled up around a diaper and pacifier uploaded to the internet, and there went her promising career. Boom.
So deep in thought and worry was the lynx, that she didn’t notice the note on the coffee table until she had literally dropped her cup on it. She looked at it in confusion, then pulled the sheet out from under her mug and began looking it over. It was written in a small, neat form of cursive, the kind that had been drilled into English children, and especially boys, since the turn of the 16th Century, only having gone out of style some decades before. So used was she to the drawling print of the rank and file, as well as most officers, that she had some trouble reading it. The words, for what little sense they made, read as follows:
Dear Star. I’d like to start off by making it clear that what happened last night, and what may or may not happen in future regarding our mutual interest, must be kept purely between us. No exceptions. I’m sure I don’t need to explain how many problems this could cause if it became common knowledge, and I don’t mean just for me.
Strange as it is for me to say, I haven’t the slightest clue what was going through my head last night, but I liked it, and I’m operating under the assumption that you liked it as well, given how happy and peaceful you seemed. Nevertheless, if you wish to leave our relationship as purely professional, I will respect that, and we may never speak of this again. If that is not the case… well, I’ll leave some instructions for you on the back, and we can talk more about it after work. I have more than a few things which I think you’d be interested in seeing.
Sincerely, Andrew Miller.
Star had read over the note more than five times before she had convinced herself it was saying what she thought it was saying. Her memories of the previous night felt as though it were being viewed through a blurry glass, and she got more brief images and emotions than a clear chronology. She remembered being shouting at the panther, then being dragged over his knee and spanked. The intense helplessness she had experienced during the punishment had her quivering, even in retrospect, and not in a negative way. It was one of her deepest secrets that she simultaneously desired and despised having a dominant male take control of her, a secret which she had buried down in the darkest cellars of Castle Star. It was always both sensations at once: the hatred of being controlled, but the excitement of being helpless to escape or prevent it. She had always dreamed of a powerful man, her fantasy partner, to make her a little girl again, to be ordered around and disciplined as he saw fit.
Star crossed her legs and blushed again, “Could he be that one…?” She swallowed hard, suppressing her emotions, and dove again into the pile of memories. The rest of the night had been… different, fundamentally other on a level that Star could neither examine nor understand. While the pleasure of having the panther spank her had been sexual, pure and simple, the rest of the night had been entirely different. What had happened? She had been told to get into diapers, then cuddled and put down for bed. The hard lines and deep colors of the earlier pleasure seemed to spread out and blur, turning lighter, more innocent, and left her wiggling in her chair. There was some of the dominance she sought after in being forced to dress like a baby, but most of her attraction to it, and what followed, was different. To put complicated thoughts into simple words, Star had felt like there was a core bond of trust that had sprang into being between her and Andrew in that moment, something that transcended sex or lust, a knowledge that she could make herself totally vulnerable around her, and know for certainty that he wouldn’t take advantage of her. One appeal of what had happened between them was when Andrew had knocked down her outer defenses and forced his will upon her, the second appeal was in opening herself up willingly. They were totally different, but each was intoxicating in its own way. The worst part came when she realized that she wanted more of both.
Star sighed in exasperation, and poured herself another cup of coffee. All the new emotions had gotten to her, and she decided to fortify herself against further confusion by drinking it black, a de-stressing mechanism she had developed during training, and let the hot, dark Columbian sooth her back to calmness. She remembered what Andrew’s note had said, and turned over the paper to read the back. She could immediately see by how much faster and less neat the cursive on the back read that he had either been very emotional, or very unsecure about what he was writing, potentially both. Regardless, Star looked from the note, to her coffee, then shook her head and downed the cup.
• Alright, Star, I expect to see you diapered at work today
• Keep a spare in your purse
• Bring that pacifier of yours, too
• When nobody’s around, you’ll be calling me Daddy from now on
The instructions were ridiculous, and the panther clearly knew it. Star considered for a moment about doing the third one, just so she didn’t look like she wasn’t taking him seriously, but dismissed the idea. There was plenty of details to hammer out about their new relationship, if there was to be one at all, and she had no intention of letting him do whatever he wanted to her. There had to be boundaries on both sides if this was going to work, and she had every intention of making that clear to him as soon as she could.
“Oh, hell,” Star said, looking at the ugly laser-engraved modern clock on the other side of the room, she was running late, and she hadn’t even eaten breakfast yet. Years of obeying the unwritten fifteen minutes to fifteen minutes to rule, which stated that any soldier needed to arrive fifteen minutes before they were required to, and any officer needed to arrive fifteen minutes before any soldier, told her that, despite public postings working much differently than field postings, her nominal hour before work began was actually merely thirty minutes, which was barely enough time to make the trip.
Without another thought on the matter, Star tossed the empty mug into the sink, grabbed a selection of fruits and biscuit from her fridge, and headed down to the garage where her car was waiting. The drive to the city’s military base was uneventful, if big city traffic is ever uneventful, but Star found herself unnaturally relaxed as she made her commute to work. She ignored slights made by other motorists on the highway, and couldn’t keep a smile off her face as she showed her ID cards at the base’s front gate.
The gate guard waved Star in, and she parked her car without incident. The lynx finished the last of her biscuits as she made her way through the familiar passages of a standardized military base towards the secluded corner block that passed for a communications station, its only virtue being its proximity to the command wing which made couriering important messages easy. It was only seconds past eight thirty when Star fell down into her command chair at the far end of the room, and looked out over all the equipment as it was turning on. The only thing missing was her second in command, Andrew, who clearly wasn’t partial to unspoken military traditions. If he had any sense at all, he would show up by quarter to the hour, but Star didn’t account that as likely.
“Morning, Titch,” one of Star’s communications officers said, tipping his hat to her as he went to his station. He was an acquaintance from her training in Germany, and they had served together before that, which had earned him the unspoken right to use her nickname, one of only a few things which still stuck with her from her days as a cadet.
One by one or in pairs, first Star’s various officers, then her crewmen, all trickled into the communications center on time, except for Andrew. He should have been there as soon as Star, but as long as he was there by the time the first of the com-crew arrived, no open rebuke was called for. With growing frustration, she watched the minutes tick by. The absence of the second in command caused some open and creative speculation as to where he was. It was quickly silenced by Star, of course, if anyone was to berate him it would be her, but it reassured her somewhat that her sentiment was well founded. When the tall panther finally came through the door, looking in a better mood than he had the previous day, it was five minutes to the hour. Unacceptably late.
“Corporal Miller, excuse do you have for being this late?” Star said in her firm, command tone before the panther had gotten even two steps through the door. It seemed to take him by surprise, and he stared at his ranking officer in confusion.
“Err… I was, occupied?” Andrew said, glancing around at the other officers and staff as they made gestures of amusement and disbelief, “Not to mention I’m not late, I don’t start for another five minutes…”
“Corporal, I’ll need to speak with you privately,” Star said, standing and walking with hands clasped behind her back across the room and out the door, waving the clearly confused panther to follow behind her, which he did. The walk to the thick walled supply closet where they kept all the paper, ink, and other bits and bobs which the military bureaucracy required, and shut the door behind them.
“What the hell was that?” Andrew asked, “did the hours get shifted or something?”
“No, Andrew, they didn’t,” Star said, rubbing the sides of her head, then tried to explain the concepts of military time to him. Andrew looked on, incredulous.
“Star?” the panther asked, when she had finished her lecture, “I’m curious… Did you consider what we talked about… You know, last night?” For someone who towered above her, Andrew seemed oddly hesitant as he chose his words.
The lynx looked on at him, “What? Yes, of course, but that doesn’t change anything between us professionally. It can’t. You know this.”
“What, so I’m only supposed to be your daddy after five, and bend and scrape to you the rest of the time?” the panther said, snickering, and leaned against the door, blocking Star’s passage as she tried to leave.
“Andrew. What are you doing?” Star asked between clenched teeth, “let me through.”
“No. Not until I see that you followed my orders this morning,” Andrew said, grinning, and threw off the pack that he had been carrying. Star felt a chill start to creep up her spine.
“Andrew… Don’t do anything you’re going to regret,” Star warned, backing away a few steps. The big panther had a foot and change on her in height and easily measured up to twice her weight. If he tried something with her, her chances of resistance were slim.
“I just want to see that my little baby girl did as daddy told her,” Andrew said with a deceptively playful grin, then pounced, taking a large step inside of Star’s guard, using his size and strength to bully past her futile defense, them reached his hands under her arms and pulled the frantically fighting feline up and off of her feet.
“N-NO! Let go of me! LET GO!” Star hollered, her words thrown back in her face by the soundproof walls of the storage room, and kicked mightily as the was picked up, her small weight carried almost effortlessly over to a waist height stack of boxes approximately the size of a single bed and dropped down lengthwise onto it, her fall cushioned by the piled paper within.
“Stay still and this will be over quicker,” Andrew said firmly, pinning the shocked and squirming lynx to the stacks of paper with one large, strong hand, and unbuckling her standard issue uniform belt. In a second he had her pants down around her ankles, and Star was shocked in silence. “That doesn’t look like a diaper, missy,” Andrew said, firm, “but that’s an easy enough fix.”
Star could only look on, frozen in terror, as Andrew grinned mischievously, and hoisted his pack up onto the stack of boxes with Star.
“I figured you might not do as you were told, so I came prepared.” Star’s expression of anger and frustration turned to one of abject horror as she saw what he withdrew from the bag. It was a diaper, thicker even than the ones she had bought herself, but, unlike the homogeneously colored medical diapers, this one had purple and pink hearts all along the plastic backing, and the words Baby Girl printed across the plastic frontal panel. She went stiff, and tried to think of a way out of the situation that her impulsiveness had gotten her into.
“Y-you can’t put that on me… not here! Stop, please! Stop!” Star begged, shuddering with intermingling fear and humiliation as the panther grinned down at her, gripping her by the ankles in her free hand and briefly releasing the pressure on her chest that he might slip the diaper underneath her.
“Stay still, unless you want to spend the rest of the day with your pacifier in, too,” Andrew said, taping the bulky thing up around Star’s waist. “There, now if you have any accidents, you won’t mess up your pretty little uniform,” the panther teased, pulling Star’s pants back up and belting them back in place. The bulge at her waist, back and front was unmistakable, and she was sure to have a hard time walking in that. “Come along now, my little princess. We’ve got a long day’s work ahead of us,” Andrew put on a deceptively playful grin, patted Star on the belly, then helped her, face a pallet of pinks and reds, up onto her rickety feet, legs spread wide and awkward with the unfamiliarly bulky padding. He kept ahold of her paw as he lead the precariously waddling lynx, almost at the point of tears at this point, over to the door and opened it.
Star felt as though she were stuck in some kind of nightmare as she was paraded through the sparsely populated hallway, waddling like a toddler, then right into her own communications center. Anyone who had ever seen a diaper bulge before would know immediately what she was wearing, and Andrew kept her moving, a glowing, playful smirk played across his face, at a rate that he clearly knew would force her to accentuate her arcing steps to manage. A few of her techs watched the odd pair cross the room, but didn’t comment, going back to their work as soon as Star was safely, though absent any remaining dignity, back in her command chair.
Star made herself as sparse as possible during the rest of the morning, acting meek as a maid to Andrew, who seemed to revel in making her uncomfortable situation worse by calling attention to her at every opportunity, and delegated most of her normal duties onto her senior officers, which, unfortunately, meant Andrew.
Exactly what he hoped I would do… Star thought to herself, pretending to work through some paperwork at her desk in the corner. She had always been a hands-on leader, and this sudden change was sure to beg questions during lunch. She had considered sneaking off to the bathroom and disposing of the diaper, but couldn’t help but wonder what Andrew’s reaction would be. His actions in the supply room had been unacceptable, and she could with but a few words to the major see him dismissed the service and potentially serve jail time. The only thing stopping her, as much as she hated to admit it, even to herself, was that she had loved every moment of it. With the diaper fit squarely between her legs, every interaction between her and a co-worker now became an adventure, the bulky garment around her waist constantly reminding her of her place as Andrew’s little girl, unofficial though it was. The situation was like something out of an obscure satirical comedy, and Star’s mind didn’t know quite what to make of it. Being dominated like this was humiliating in the extreme, which was a negative emotion, but it was balanced perfectly by the equal and opposite pleasure she got from being dominated, which was a positive emotion. All she could do was quiver in her little corner of the workspace, huddle close to her desk to hide the bulge, pray nobody guessed what she was wearing, and quiver in ecstasy every single minute of it.
“Hey, Titch,” one of Star’s officers said, “the boys and I are going to go get something for lunch. Are you with us, or do you have plans?” He said it in a way that made it clear he was concerned about her behavior, and had probably guessed that Andrew was the cause.
“Actually she does,” Andrew jutted it, walking over and patting Star on the shoulder, “Kitty here isn’t feeling well. I’m probably going to take her home.” Star blushed fifty shades of pink at being called kitty, but didn’t object, nodding her approval. The officer didn’t question it, shrugged, and went off to join the rest of the gathering staff for their lunch break.
“Now, can the kitten walk or does she need me to carry her?” Andrew asked, scratching behind one of Star’s ears.
“Bugger off…” Star said in reply, hanging her head in shame, “we have got to talk this over…”
“I totally agree,” the panther said, much happier than he had a right to be, “my place, this evening. I’ve got something unique I need to show you.”
“Your place?” Star said, raising an eyebrow as Andrew helped her to her precariously positioned feet, “how in hell are we supposed to get to your place? We only have an hour.”
Andrew laughed whole heartedly, holding onto the lynx’s hand as one might a small child that was in danger of running off, “I’ll call in some favors and get us both off for the afternoon, okay? Come on, my little pretty kitty, I think it’s time you opened up a bit more, eh?”
If the room hadn’t been empty by that point, Star would have died of embarrassment at the name pretty kitty, as it were, she only squirmed under his words to the point that she almost lost her footing and toppled over. Andrew led star though the emptying hallways of the compound, and out to the parking area where Andrew’s Porsche was parked. The lynx’s toddle had gotten her a few sidelong looks by the other ranking officers of the base, most of whom she knew by name and reputation as opposed to personally, but managed to make it outside without being challenged.
“Your seat is in the back,” Andrew said with a grin, opening the back, passenger side door. Star’s jaw dropped, eyes going wide.
“No.” She said, matter of factly, “No. No. Not a chance in hell.” She was staring at an oversized car seat, like the kind for special needs children, except this one was decorated by flowers, hearts, and various other cutesy, childish markings on the felt exterior. To make matters worse, in place of a traditional seatbelt it had a five-point harness, reinforcing the image that this was a baby’s booster blown out of all proportion as opposed to something for someone with an unfortunate condition which required it.
“Did I ask for your oppinion?” Andrew said, towering behind her and crossing his arms, “there’s no chance I’m letting my baby ride in a car without proper protection, understand? And we’re going to have to discuss your language, too, missy.”
“Andrew!” Star hissed, “this is getting out of hand. If you expect me to go anywhere with you, I’m riding in the front and tha- HEY! What do you think you’re doing?!” The lynx kicked and squirmed as Andrew lifted her up by the hips nonchalantly, keeping his silly grin despite Star’s vigorous squirming, and, with as little restraint as one might have with a fussy child, forced her literally kicking and screaming into the booster seat, then kept her waist pinned to the back as he pulled the straps and buckles one by one into place. Two straps came from over her shoulders to meet below her abdomen to keep her from pulling too far forward, two more from either side of her ribcage which kept her centered in the seat, and one final band which ran up from between her legs, preventing the squirming lynx from slipping out from under the harness.
Most of the cars had already left the lot, so there was nobody within eye or earshot to witness the drama that was unfolding inside the tinted windows of the luxury automobile. Andrew had clearly picked his parking spot well, for it was outside the view of the compound’s security cameras, windows, and far enough away from the doors that someone catching glimpse of what he had planned was unlikely.
After Andrew had successfully bullied Star into her booster seat, the fighting didn’t stop, it intensified. He shut the door, and Star immediately began kicking and screaming for his blood. No sooner had the panther opened the driver’s side door and stepped inside than did Star begin to grapple with the central buckle of the harness. The normal, childproof kind had push snaps on the sides that would be easy for adults to undo, but invincible to a baby’s hands. The heavily modified special-needs seat that Star had been put in was much different. This one had no buckles at the central convergence, but only a small metal disc in the center. She recognized it: a magnetic lock.
Star could do little more than flail her legs and scream, almost at the point of tears, now, so snug was the grip of the harness. It was well designed to keep someone of her weight practically immobile, and it did its job very well. To make matters worse, she couldn’t keep the crotch strap from putting pressure on her diaper, making it fit snugly against her and turning its absurd thickness from badly frustrating to something she could not ignore.
Andrew didn’t live in the city center the way most of the military personnel did, but in a prestigious, posh, millionaires only sort of neighborhood. Star had never been in one of the houses, each of which seemed to be set upon their own, individual hill, with obsolete architectural flourishes like balconies and belfries, big, jutting columned entry ways with sculpted swan-shaped hedges and fountains out front. But, most importantly to the pouting diapered lynx in the booster chair, in the booster chair, they were huge, and, oddly enough, Star felt tiny in comparison. She had thought having her own personal flat to be the height of luxury, but, given this sudden view into the life of the 1%, realized just how silly that sentiment was.
The drive lasted for the better part of an hour, so most of Star’s anger and frustration had turned to ripe resentment by the time the panther pulled off the pristine, newly paved road and into his own personal palace. A pair of gates with his initials engraved into the bars opened automatically as he approached, and he parked the car in front of the staircase which led up to the front door. Andrew left the keys in the ignition, got out, and opened the back door to look down at the furious, humiliated, burning face of Star.
“You’re an asshole,” Star said, crossing her arms as he pulled a little metal disk from a chain around his neck.
Andrew giggled, and scratched Star’s belly, “what did I say about minding your language, sweetie? I have half a mind to keep you pacified from now on if you mean to keep talking like that.” He tapped the disc against the center of Star’s harness and all five buckles snapped open at once before sliding back up into their slots. Star swatted away his hands as he tried to pick her up, and hopped out of the car on her own. The lynx’s legs, so long confined in the chair, weren’t at their highest responsiveness, however, and she tripped before even she had gotten out of the car. Always quick to respond, Andrew moved quickly and scooped Star, who gave him a look of complete shock, right out of the air. “There now,” Andrew said, beaming happily as he maneuvered Star into classical baby-carrying posture, one arm under her knees and the other under her shoulders, “Isn’t this much easier than trying to walk on your own?”
Star swallowed her first reply, which likely would have seen her red-bottomed and sent to bed without dinner if the panther really did intend to treat her like a child, but she was blushing too hard afterwards to make further comment. She didn’t fuss as Andrew, who was clearly very strong even for his own large size, carried her up the stone stairs of his mansion and through the front doors, which were opened by an older looking man in a tuxedo.
“Well, I see you’ve dragged home another one, Sir,” the older man, a weasel, said in a dialect of english that was unique to the elite, defined the term snob, and had been deemed obsolete two centuries earlier, “shall I see your Porsche parked, sir?”
“This one’s different, Jeeves,” Andrew said to his butler, good heartedly, “and yes, I won’t be going anywhere. You can take the night off, I’ll be fine.”
“Of course, sir,” Jeeves said, and made his way down the steps to the circular driveway.
“Another one?” Star said, all too perceptive, looking up at the panther with a frown.
“Don’t worry, sweetie,” Andrew said, leaning in and nosing Star’s face, “girls that share our… interest are unfortunately rare.” He grinned, seeing the conflicted look in the lynx’s eye as her adult and child sides battled for dominance. Both were loving the attention, but for completely different reasons, and Andrew had a full mind to see both of them well sated.
“Okie…” Star said, her child’s mind winning out, and nuzzled Andrew’s chest affectionately. He carried her out of the main, arched theater that connected to the entrance, and down a beautifully adorned hallway. He followed the hallway to the end, and opened a door with the same magnetic key he had used for her chair, then carried her inside.
Star gasped impulsively as the inside of the room was revealed to her, and looked around, slack jawed and wide-eyed, amazed.


Like what I write? Well, I happen to have a magic portal that makes your dreams come true when you offer it a sacrifice! Access it via the commission link on my profile!
Please comment and tell me what you think!
<<< PREV | FIRST | NEXT >>>
Story Text: (Download for better formatting)
Chapter 3:
Star awoke with an ear to ear grin splayed across her face, and remained close to insensibility for nearly an hour, lulled nearly back to sleep by the sound of her own purring. The lynx couldn’t remember the last time she had been so comfortable, years of barracks bunks and campaign hammocks making her modest double seem like the height of comfort and luxury. In her sleep she had curled herself into a ball, wrapped in the soft, down sheets, and enveloped a plush body pillow with her arms, legs, and tail. The bed had become her own little corner of the world, safe and separate from anything and everything, and it made her feel more secure than she had ever known. But the bliss couldn’t last, however, and the age-old enemy of comfort, the villainous Alarm Clock, eventually brought the lynx’s sanctuary to an end.
“Thhyuuut UWP!” Star exclaimed, wiggling free of her cocoon to lay her fury against the clock with a fist, then went still as the ring in her ears faded. What was that in her mouth? What was that between her legs?
With a trembling paw, the feline reached up and pulled the oversized bulb of a pacifier out of her mouth, where it had been suckled without fail for the better part of the night. She looked at it in confusion, then, shaking all over, pulled free of the blankets and looked at her backside. She was wearing a diaper. Not just any diaper, a triple thick sleep diaper for someone with major incontinence, the plastic backing playfully colored light pink. In a rush, the previous day’s events came back to her. Andrew causing problems, her taking him back to her apartment, and the… events, that had followed.
The lynx’s face went from plain to flush hot pink in less than a few seconds, and she scrambled out of her bed. “Ith he thill heww?!” Star exclaimed, lips and tongue feeling oddly constrained from a night of sucking on a pacifier, and unintentionally slurring her speech as a result. No sooner had she hopped off the bed than did she realize just how horribly thick her undergarments were, forcing her legs wider than her shoulders thanks to the thick padding at the crotch. “Who the heck needs these this thick?!” She said, whole face now the color of a clear summer’s sunset, taking very good care not to slur her words this time, and, desperate to be rid of the thing, went at the tapes with her claws until the diaper fell open on the floor. Star sighed with relief, wiping some sweat from her forehead. It wasn’t wet.
Reminded of her other concerns, Star quickly disposed of the diaper and pacifier in her bedroom’s rubbish bin and threw on her discarded track pants. Her ears perked to every nose: morning traffic outside, her automatic coffee maker brewing, someone upstairs taking a shower. No Andrew. She did a quick once-over of her apartment, just to be sure, and found nothing. She took a cup of coffee from the machine, slumped into her couch, and sighed, deeply relieved.
“What the hell are you doing, Star?” she said, realizing just how reckless and impulsive her actions had been that previous night. Andrew had every right to hate her. He was an arrogant rich boy who wanted a command position, probably because it would look good on a political resume, and she was a hard-working service woman who had crawled up through the ranks, and held the very position that he was aiming for. Taking her out of the picture would have left a very nicely sized hole in the ranks for his ego to fill, and she had given him all the ammunition he would ever need. A few snapshots of her, curled up around a diaper and pacifier uploaded to the internet, and there went her promising career. Boom.
So deep in thought and worry was the lynx, that she didn’t notice the note on the coffee table until she had literally dropped her cup on it. She looked at it in confusion, then pulled the sheet out from under her mug and began looking it over. It was written in a small, neat form of cursive, the kind that had been drilled into English children, and especially boys, since the turn of the 16th Century, only having gone out of style some decades before. So used was she to the drawling print of the rank and file, as well as most officers, that she had some trouble reading it. The words, for what little sense they made, read as follows:
Dear Star. I’d like to start off by making it clear that what happened last night, and what may or may not happen in future regarding our mutual interest, must be kept purely between us. No exceptions. I’m sure I don’t need to explain how many problems this could cause if it became common knowledge, and I don’t mean just for me.
Strange as it is for me to say, I haven’t the slightest clue what was going through my head last night, but I liked it, and I’m operating under the assumption that you liked it as well, given how happy and peaceful you seemed. Nevertheless, if you wish to leave our relationship as purely professional, I will respect that, and we may never speak of this again. If that is not the case… well, I’ll leave some instructions for you on the back, and we can talk more about it after work. I have more than a few things which I think you’d be interested in seeing.
Sincerely, Andrew Miller.
Star had read over the note more than five times before she had convinced herself it was saying what she thought it was saying. Her memories of the previous night felt as though it were being viewed through a blurry glass, and she got more brief images and emotions than a clear chronology. She remembered being shouting at the panther, then being dragged over his knee and spanked. The intense helplessness she had experienced during the punishment had her quivering, even in retrospect, and not in a negative way. It was one of her deepest secrets that she simultaneously desired and despised having a dominant male take control of her, a secret which she had buried down in the darkest cellars of Castle Star. It was always both sensations at once: the hatred of being controlled, but the excitement of being helpless to escape or prevent it. She had always dreamed of a powerful man, her fantasy partner, to make her a little girl again, to be ordered around and disciplined as he saw fit.
Star crossed her legs and blushed again, “Could he be that one…?” She swallowed hard, suppressing her emotions, and dove again into the pile of memories. The rest of the night had been… different, fundamentally other on a level that Star could neither examine nor understand. While the pleasure of having the panther spank her had been sexual, pure and simple, the rest of the night had been entirely different. What had happened? She had been told to get into diapers, then cuddled and put down for bed. The hard lines and deep colors of the earlier pleasure seemed to spread out and blur, turning lighter, more innocent, and left her wiggling in her chair. There was some of the dominance she sought after in being forced to dress like a baby, but most of her attraction to it, and what followed, was different. To put complicated thoughts into simple words, Star had felt like there was a core bond of trust that had sprang into being between her and Andrew in that moment, something that transcended sex or lust, a knowledge that she could make herself totally vulnerable around her, and know for certainty that he wouldn’t take advantage of her. One appeal of what had happened between them was when Andrew had knocked down her outer defenses and forced his will upon her, the second appeal was in opening herself up willingly. They were totally different, but each was intoxicating in its own way. The worst part came when she realized that she wanted more of both.
Star sighed in exasperation, and poured herself another cup of coffee. All the new emotions had gotten to her, and she decided to fortify herself against further confusion by drinking it black, a de-stressing mechanism she had developed during training, and let the hot, dark Columbian sooth her back to calmness. She remembered what Andrew’s note had said, and turned over the paper to read the back. She could immediately see by how much faster and less neat the cursive on the back read that he had either been very emotional, or very unsecure about what he was writing, potentially both. Regardless, Star looked from the note, to her coffee, then shook her head and downed the cup.
• Alright, Star, I expect to see you diapered at work today
• Keep a spare in your purse
• Bring that pacifier of yours, too
• When nobody’s around, you’ll be calling me Daddy from now on
The instructions were ridiculous, and the panther clearly knew it. Star considered for a moment about doing the third one, just so she didn’t look like she wasn’t taking him seriously, but dismissed the idea. There was plenty of details to hammer out about their new relationship, if there was to be one at all, and she had no intention of letting him do whatever he wanted to her. There had to be boundaries on both sides if this was going to work, and she had every intention of making that clear to him as soon as she could.
“Oh, hell,” Star said, looking at the ugly laser-engraved modern clock on the other side of the room, she was running late, and she hadn’t even eaten breakfast yet. Years of obeying the unwritten fifteen minutes to fifteen minutes to rule, which stated that any soldier needed to arrive fifteen minutes before they were required to, and any officer needed to arrive fifteen minutes before any soldier, told her that, despite public postings working much differently than field postings, her nominal hour before work began was actually merely thirty minutes, which was barely enough time to make the trip.
Without another thought on the matter, Star tossed the empty mug into the sink, grabbed a selection of fruits and biscuit from her fridge, and headed down to the garage where her car was waiting. The drive to the city’s military base was uneventful, if big city traffic is ever uneventful, but Star found herself unnaturally relaxed as she made her commute to work. She ignored slights made by other motorists on the highway, and couldn’t keep a smile off her face as she showed her ID cards at the base’s front gate.
The gate guard waved Star in, and she parked her car without incident. The lynx finished the last of her biscuits as she made her way through the familiar passages of a standardized military base towards the secluded corner block that passed for a communications station, its only virtue being its proximity to the command wing which made couriering important messages easy. It was only seconds past eight thirty when Star fell down into her command chair at the far end of the room, and looked out over all the equipment as it was turning on. The only thing missing was her second in command, Andrew, who clearly wasn’t partial to unspoken military traditions. If he had any sense at all, he would show up by quarter to the hour, but Star didn’t account that as likely.
“Morning, Titch,” one of Star’s communications officers said, tipping his hat to her as he went to his station. He was an acquaintance from her training in Germany, and they had served together before that, which had earned him the unspoken right to use her nickname, one of only a few things which still stuck with her from her days as a cadet.
One by one or in pairs, first Star’s various officers, then her crewmen, all trickled into the communications center on time, except for Andrew. He should have been there as soon as Star, but as long as he was there by the time the first of the com-crew arrived, no open rebuke was called for. With growing frustration, she watched the minutes tick by. The absence of the second in command caused some open and creative speculation as to where he was. It was quickly silenced by Star, of course, if anyone was to berate him it would be her, but it reassured her somewhat that her sentiment was well founded. When the tall panther finally came through the door, looking in a better mood than he had the previous day, it was five minutes to the hour. Unacceptably late.
“Corporal Miller, excuse do you have for being this late?” Star said in her firm, command tone before the panther had gotten even two steps through the door. It seemed to take him by surprise, and he stared at his ranking officer in confusion.
“Err… I was, occupied?” Andrew said, glancing around at the other officers and staff as they made gestures of amusement and disbelief, “Not to mention I’m not late, I don’t start for another five minutes…”
“Corporal, I’ll need to speak with you privately,” Star said, standing and walking with hands clasped behind her back across the room and out the door, waving the clearly confused panther to follow behind her, which he did. The walk to the thick walled supply closet where they kept all the paper, ink, and other bits and bobs which the military bureaucracy required, and shut the door behind them.
“What the hell was that?” Andrew asked, “did the hours get shifted or something?”
“No, Andrew, they didn’t,” Star said, rubbing the sides of her head, then tried to explain the concepts of military time to him. Andrew looked on, incredulous.
“Star?” the panther asked, when she had finished her lecture, “I’m curious… Did you consider what we talked about… You know, last night?” For someone who towered above her, Andrew seemed oddly hesitant as he chose his words.
The lynx looked on at him, “What? Yes, of course, but that doesn’t change anything between us professionally. It can’t. You know this.”
“What, so I’m only supposed to be your daddy after five, and bend and scrape to you the rest of the time?” the panther said, snickering, and leaned against the door, blocking Star’s passage as she tried to leave.
“Andrew. What are you doing?” Star asked between clenched teeth, “let me through.”
“No. Not until I see that you followed my orders this morning,” Andrew said, grinning, and threw off the pack that he had been carrying. Star felt a chill start to creep up her spine.
“Andrew… Don’t do anything you’re going to regret,” Star warned, backing away a few steps. The big panther had a foot and change on her in height and easily measured up to twice her weight. If he tried something with her, her chances of resistance were slim.
“I just want to see that my little baby girl did as daddy told her,” Andrew said with a deceptively playful grin, then pounced, taking a large step inside of Star’s guard, using his size and strength to bully past her futile defense, them reached his hands under her arms and pulled the frantically fighting feline up and off of her feet.
“N-NO! Let go of me! LET GO!” Star hollered, her words thrown back in her face by the soundproof walls of the storage room, and kicked mightily as the was picked up, her small weight carried almost effortlessly over to a waist height stack of boxes approximately the size of a single bed and dropped down lengthwise onto it, her fall cushioned by the piled paper within.
“Stay still and this will be over quicker,” Andrew said firmly, pinning the shocked and squirming lynx to the stacks of paper with one large, strong hand, and unbuckling her standard issue uniform belt. In a second he had her pants down around her ankles, and Star was shocked in silence. “That doesn’t look like a diaper, missy,” Andrew said, firm, “but that’s an easy enough fix.”
Star could only look on, frozen in terror, as Andrew grinned mischievously, and hoisted his pack up onto the stack of boxes with Star.
“I figured you might not do as you were told, so I came prepared.” Star’s expression of anger and frustration turned to one of abject horror as she saw what he withdrew from the bag. It was a diaper, thicker even than the ones she had bought herself, but, unlike the homogeneously colored medical diapers, this one had purple and pink hearts all along the plastic backing, and the words Baby Girl printed across the plastic frontal panel. She went stiff, and tried to think of a way out of the situation that her impulsiveness had gotten her into.
“Y-you can’t put that on me… not here! Stop, please! Stop!” Star begged, shuddering with intermingling fear and humiliation as the panther grinned down at her, gripping her by the ankles in her free hand and briefly releasing the pressure on her chest that he might slip the diaper underneath her.
“Stay still, unless you want to spend the rest of the day with your pacifier in, too,” Andrew said, taping the bulky thing up around Star’s waist. “There, now if you have any accidents, you won’t mess up your pretty little uniform,” the panther teased, pulling Star’s pants back up and belting them back in place. The bulge at her waist, back and front was unmistakable, and she was sure to have a hard time walking in that. “Come along now, my little princess. We’ve got a long day’s work ahead of us,” Andrew put on a deceptively playful grin, patted Star on the belly, then helped her, face a pallet of pinks and reds, up onto her rickety feet, legs spread wide and awkward with the unfamiliarly bulky padding. He kept ahold of her paw as he lead the precariously waddling lynx, almost at the point of tears at this point, over to the door and opened it.
Star felt as though she were stuck in some kind of nightmare as she was paraded through the sparsely populated hallway, waddling like a toddler, then right into her own communications center. Anyone who had ever seen a diaper bulge before would know immediately what she was wearing, and Andrew kept her moving, a glowing, playful smirk played across his face, at a rate that he clearly knew would force her to accentuate her arcing steps to manage. A few of her techs watched the odd pair cross the room, but didn’t comment, going back to their work as soon as Star was safely, though absent any remaining dignity, back in her command chair.
Star made herself as sparse as possible during the rest of the morning, acting meek as a maid to Andrew, who seemed to revel in making her uncomfortable situation worse by calling attention to her at every opportunity, and delegated most of her normal duties onto her senior officers, which, unfortunately, meant Andrew.
Exactly what he hoped I would do… Star thought to herself, pretending to work through some paperwork at her desk in the corner. She had always been a hands-on leader, and this sudden change was sure to beg questions during lunch. She had considered sneaking off to the bathroom and disposing of the diaper, but couldn’t help but wonder what Andrew’s reaction would be. His actions in the supply room had been unacceptable, and she could with but a few words to the major see him dismissed the service and potentially serve jail time. The only thing stopping her, as much as she hated to admit it, even to herself, was that she had loved every moment of it. With the diaper fit squarely between her legs, every interaction between her and a co-worker now became an adventure, the bulky garment around her waist constantly reminding her of her place as Andrew’s little girl, unofficial though it was. The situation was like something out of an obscure satirical comedy, and Star’s mind didn’t know quite what to make of it. Being dominated like this was humiliating in the extreme, which was a negative emotion, but it was balanced perfectly by the equal and opposite pleasure she got from being dominated, which was a positive emotion. All she could do was quiver in her little corner of the workspace, huddle close to her desk to hide the bulge, pray nobody guessed what she was wearing, and quiver in ecstasy every single minute of it.
“Hey, Titch,” one of Star’s officers said, “the boys and I are going to go get something for lunch. Are you with us, or do you have plans?” He said it in a way that made it clear he was concerned about her behavior, and had probably guessed that Andrew was the cause.
“Actually she does,” Andrew jutted it, walking over and patting Star on the shoulder, “Kitty here isn’t feeling well. I’m probably going to take her home.” Star blushed fifty shades of pink at being called kitty, but didn’t object, nodding her approval. The officer didn’t question it, shrugged, and went off to join the rest of the gathering staff for their lunch break.
“Now, can the kitten walk or does she need me to carry her?” Andrew asked, scratching behind one of Star’s ears.
“Bugger off…” Star said in reply, hanging her head in shame, “we have got to talk this over…”
“I totally agree,” the panther said, much happier than he had a right to be, “my place, this evening. I’ve got something unique I need to show you.”
“Your place?” Star said, raising an eyebrow as Andrew helped her to her precariously positioned feet, “how in hell are we supposed to get to your place? We only have an hour.”
Andrew laughed whole heartedly, holding onto the lynx’s hand as one might a small child that was in danger of running off, “I’ll call in some favors and get us both off for the afternoon, okay? Come on, my little pretty kitty, I think it’s time you opened up a bit more, eh?”
If the room hadn’t been empty by that point, Star would have died of embarrassment at the name pretty kitty, as it were, she only squirmed under his words to the point that she almost lost her footing and toppled over. Andrew led star though the emptying hallways of the compound, and out to the parking area where Andrew’s Porsche was parked. The lynx’s toddle had gotten her a few sidelong looks by the other ranking officers of the base, most of whom she knew by name and reputation as opposed to personally, but managed to make it outside without being challenged.
“Your seat is in the back,” Andrew said with a grin, opening the back, passenger side door. Star’s jaw dropped, eyes going wide.
“No.” She said, matter of factly, “No. No. Not a chance in hell.” She was staring at an oversized car seat, like the kind for special needs children, except this one was decorated by flowers, hearts, and various other cutesy, childish markings on the felt exterior. To make matters worse, in place of a traditional seatbelt it had a five-point harness, reinforcing the image that this was a baby’s booster blown out of all proportion as opposed to something for someone with an unfortunate condition which required it.
“Did I ask for your oppinion?” Andrew said, towering behind her and crossing his arms, “there’s no chance I’m letting my baby ride in a car without proper protection, understand? And we’re going to have to discuss your language, too, missy.”
“Andrew!” Star hissed, “this is getting out of hand. If you expect me to go anywhere with you, I’m riding in the front and tha- HEY! What do you think you’re doing?!” The lynx kicked and squirmed as Andrew lifted her up by the hips nonchalantly, keeping his silly grin despite Star’s vigorous squirming, and, with as little restraint as one might have with a fussy child, forced her literally kicking and screaming into the booster seat, then kept her waist pinned to the back as he pulled the straps and buckles one by one into place. Two straps came from over her shoulders to meet below her abdomen to keep her from pulling too far forward, two more from either side of her ribcage which kept her centered in the seat, and one final band which ran up from between her legs, preventing the squirming lynx from slipping out from under the harness.
Most of the cars had already left the lot, so there was nobody within eye or earshot to witness the drama that was unfolding inside the tinted windows of the luxury automobile. Andrew had clearly picked his parking spot well, for it was outside the view of the compound’s security cameras, windows, and far enough away from the doors that someone catching glimpse of what he had planned was unlikely.
After Andrew had successfully bullied Star into her booster seat, the fighting didn’t stop, it intensified. He shut the door, and Star immediately began kicking and screaming for his blood. No sooner had the panther opened the driver’s side door and stepped inside than did Star begin to grapple with the central buckle of the harness. The normal, childproof kind had push snaps on the sides that would be easy for adults to undo, but invincible to a baby’s hands. The heavily modified special-needs seat that Star had been put in was much different. This one had no buckles at the central convergence, but only a small metal disc in the center. She recognized it: a magnetic lock.
Star could do little more than flail her legs and scream, almost at the point of tears, now, so snug was the grip of the harness. It was well designed to keep someone of her weight practically immobile, and it did its job very well. To make matters worse, she couldn’t keep the crotch strap from putting pressure on her diaper, making it fit snugly against her and turning its absurd thickness from badly frustrating to something she could not ignore.
Andrew didn’t live in the city center the way most of the military personnel did, but in a prestigious, posh, millionaires only sort of neighborhood. Star had never been in one of the houses, each of which seemed to be set upon their own, individual hill, with obsolete architectural flourishes like balconies and belfries, big, jutting columned entry ways with sculpted swan-shaped hedges and fountains out front. But, most importantly to the pouting diapered lynx in the booster chair, in the booster chair, they were huge, and, oddly enough, Star felt tiny in comparison. She had thought having her own personal flat to be the height of luxury, but, given this sudden view into the life of the 1%, realized just how silly that sentiment was.
The drive lasted for the better part of an hour, so most of Star’s anger and frustration had turned to ripe resentment by the time the panther pulled off the pristine, newly paved road and into his own personal palace. A pair of gates with his initials engraved into the bars opened automatically as he approached, and he parked the car in front of the staircase which led up to the front door. Andrew left the keys in the ignition, got out, and opened the back door to look down at the furious, humiliated, burning face of Star.
“You’re an asshole,” Star said, crossing her arms as he pulled a little metal disk from a chain around his neck.
Andrew giggled, and scratched Star’s belly, “what did I say about minding your language, sweetie? I have half a mind to keep you pacified from now on if you mean to keep talking like that.” He tapped the disc against the center of Star’s harness and all five buckles snapped open at once before sliding back up into their slots. Star swatted away his hands as he tried to pick her up, and hopped out of the car on her own. The lynx’s legs, so long confined in the chair, weren’t at their highest responsiveness, however, and she tripped before even she had gotten out of the car. Always quick to respond, Andrew moved quickly and scooped Star, who gave him a look of complete shock, right out of the air. “There now,” Andrew said, beaming happily as he maneuvered Star into classical baby-carrying posture, one arm under her knees and the other under her shoulders, “Isn’t this much easier than trying to walk on your own?”
Star swallowed her first reply, which likely would have seen her red-bottomed and sent to bed without dinner if the panther really did intend to treat her like a child, but she was blushing too hard afterwards to make further comment. She didn’t fuss as Andrew, who was clearly very strong even for his own large size, carried her up the stone stairs of his mansion and through the front doors, which were opened by an older looking man in a tuxedo.
“Well, I see you’ve dragged home another one, Sir,” the older man, a weasel, said in a dialect of english that was unique to the elite, defined the term snob, and had been deemed obsolete two centuries earlier, “shall I see your Porsche parked, sir?”
“This one’s different, Jeeves,” Andrew said to his butler, good heartedly, “and yes, I won’t be going anywhere. You can take the night off, I’ll be fine.”
“Of course, sir,” Jeeves said, and made his way down the steps to the circular driveway.
“Another one?” Star said, all too perceptive, looking up at the panther with a frown.
“Don’t worry, sweetie,” Andrew said, leaning in and nosing Star’s face, “girls that share our… interest are unfortunately rare.” He grinned, seeing the conflicted look in the lynx’s eye as her adult and child sides battled for dominance. Both were loving the attention, but for completely different reasons, and Andrew had a full mind to see both of them well sated.
“Okie…” Star said, her child’s mind winning out, and nuzzled Andrew’s chest affectionately. He carried her out of the main, arched theater that connected to the entrance, and down a beautifully adorned hallway. He followed the hallway to the end, and opened a door with the same magnetic key he had used for her chair, then carried her inside.
Star gasped impulsively as the inside of the room was revealed to her, and looked around, slack jawed and wide-eyed, amazed.
Category Story / Baby fur
Species Lynx
Size 120 x 120px
File Size 80.7 kB
Listed in Folders
the more I read, the more I know this isn't for me. on the little side. I might be convinced to be a daddy, but I dunno...changing anyone is high on my list of 'No' items.
it's a good story though, and while I might not like participating in that area, reading about it is just fine. there's other kinks I'm utterly fascinated by, but would never participate in. I'd count this among them.
it's a good story though, and while I might not like participating in that area, reading about it is just fine. there's other kinks I'm utterly fascinated by, but would never participate in. I'd count this among them.
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