Karma

Karma

“Brooke, honey? What did I say about swimming into the deep end without your floaties?”

You wince at her words, the infantile tone of her voice.

“I can swim, you know!” you retort, splashing the water in frustration.

“Drop the attitude, honey. You’ve been swimming for a while. Time to check your diaper.”

“Fineee,” you whine, “Only cause I’m thirsty anyway!”

Maggie just laughs at your silly little display. She knows you’ll huff and you’ll puff, but you’ll always obey.

Like the obedient little diaper girl you are.

You waddle over to Maggie, shaking slightly from the cold. You no longer care about the swim diaper bulging out of your pink swimsuit.

Maggie wraps a towel around you, rubbing your arms to warm you up.

“Did you have fun swimming, dear?” Maggie asks sweetly.

“Yeah!” you answer.

“Any poopies?”

“Maggie!” you shout as she adjusts your swimsuit and pulls back your swim diaper, “I didn’t!”

As if you knew.

You’ve long since stopped paying attention to the state of your diaper.

“All clean!” Maggie says in a proud disbelief, “Good job, Brooke!”

Maggie hands you a Sunny D and sits next to you. You greedily gulp it down.

“I’m so proud of you, Brookie,” Maggie says with that same maternal twinge you hate, “Did you know that? I’ve been your best friend since kindergarten and have never been prouder of you.”

You look at her, confused. “Proud? Wh-why?”

“Because, silly goose, you adjusted to your new life so well! I thought you’d struggle and fight! Yet, look at you! You’ve turned into such a well-behaved diaper girl for your Daddy!”

Your new life.

Your cheeks burn in embarrassment. You think about your descent into diapers. Your loss of autonomy. The conversation when your husband became Daddy.

Despite wanting to run and hide, you look into Maggie’s eyes, mustering as much pride and dignity as you can. “Th-thank you, Maggie.”

“You’re very welcome, cutie pie. And now that you’re right where you belong, I have something to tell you.”

Something about her tone made you weary. “Tell me what?”

“It was me, Brooke.”

Your heart skips a beat. Maybe two.

“What was?”

“Everything. All of this. This was all my idea. I was the one who convinced your Daddy you’d be happier being regressed. I found the medicine that put you permanently back in pampers.”

It was her?

“Wh-why would y-you d-d-do that?” you stutter, barely more than a whisper.

“Don’t act so surprised, sweetie. You were always so immature it’s not a big loss. And someone as immature as you deserves this. But they definitely don’t deserve someone like your husband.”

“I’m not immature!” you squeal, stomping your feet, “Not! Not! Not!”

Maggie laughs. “Sure, Brooke. Besides he was supposed to get with me, not you. We met him at the same party and I said I was gonna get a drink and go talk to him. And what did you do?”

You look at her, eyes wide in realization. This is some sick revenge. “I-I…but he was perfectly happy with me!”

“Then why did he send you back to diapers? I barely had to convince him! You’d think he’d want his wife diaper free if he wanted to be with her! But he sent you right to the nursery without a second thought.”

“No! He loves me! Not you!”

“Honey, of course he loves you! Why do you think he changes your diapers and makes sure you’re cared for? He just…doesn’t see you as a woman anymore. You’re…well, this.”

A diaper-dependent baby reliant on her Daddy.

“It’s not fair! I don’t want to be a baby! I want my Dadd—I mean Husband!”

“It’s too late for that, little one. You’re in diapers now. Permanently. You’re Daddy’s special girl. But that part of your life is over. You’re too regressed to be in an intimate relationship, sexual relationship. You have your stuffies now.”

It’s too much for your little head. You grab the towel and hide your head. Looking—and acting—every bit like the regressed baby you’ve become.

“Awww, is my little Brooke throwing a tantrum?” Daddy laughs, rubbing your back.

“Hey, hun,” Maggie says, “I was just telling Baby Brooke she’s gonna have a new Mommy.”

You’re on the verge of yelling until you hear the unmistakable sounds of kissing.

Daddy was kissing Maggie.

The implications shatter you. Your husband clearly doesn’t see you as a woman. As a sexual partner. Not anymore. This isn’t cheating to him because you’re not someone capable of being cheated on.

To him you are a baby. There’s no coming back from this. You’ve regressed past the point of no return.

And then there’s Maggie. Your “best friend.” Your Maid of Honor. Who doomed you to a second babyhood all because your husband chose you over her all those years ago.

The worst part is you’ll never escape. You’ll be in your crib helplessly filling your diapers while Maggie sleeps with your husband.

Treated like a helpless, needy baby. Listening to them coo you while you’re on the changing table, messy diaper permeating the room.

She won. You’re status as a pamper packer is inescapable.

“Isn’t that wonderful, Brooke?” Daddy asks, “You have a Mommy! Now we’re one happy family!”

“No!” you squeal wildly, “She did this! She wanted me to be a baby so she could get with you Daddy! She’s lying to you!”

Daddy sighs. “No, honey, she’s not. She told me everything. And she was right. I deserve a real woman. And you deserve loving caregivers and clean diapers. This way everyone wins!”

Except you.

Daddy moves the towel from your head. You see Daddy and Maggie looking down at you like a tantruming toddler.

A silly, helpless diaper girl.

“Come on, Brooke,” Daddy says, “You’re going to love your new life!”

“I promise, honey,” Mommy adds, “We’re one big, happy family now!”