Crossing Worlds 2

A Diaper Dimension story by SolaraScott

Chapter 17 - Baby Bouncer

Welby kept his eyes on the road as the car hummed softly, the snowy countryside passing in a blur. The faint strains of Christmas music filled the cabin, but his mind was elsewhere, replaying the encounter with Evelyn and Lucas. His grip on the steering wheel tightened briefly, a ripple of unease running through him.

The thought of letting another woman into his life stirred a deep discomfort within him, the scars of his past still fresh in his mind. Trusting Miss Kaylee had been a challenge, and even though her presence had helped ease some of those tensions, the idea of opening that door again felt like walking into a storm he wasn’t prepared for.

Yet, as he glanced in the rearview mirror, his gaze fell on Emily. She rested comfortably, her eyes closed, snoring softly, the pacifier bobbing between her lips unconsciously. The moment she’d met Lucas came rushing back to Welby—the way her eyes lit up and her posture had softened just slightly. It wasn’t much, but it was enough.

Welby exhaled slowly, his grip relaxing. Anything he could do to bring light into his Little girls’ lives, he would do. It was worth it if a simple cup of coffee with Evelyn allowed Emily to build a friendship—or more—with someone like Lucas. His discomfort could take a back seat to their happiness.

Still, the doubts lingered. What if Evelyn had ulterior motives? What if she wasn’t as kind-hearted as she seemed? Welby couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that the Amazons who entered their lives often brought more trouble than joy. He glanced briefly at Hannah, snug in her infant car seat, her pacifier bobbing gently as she dozed. Her small form reminded him why he was so protective and hesitated to let anyone else get too close.

For now, he resolved to tread carefully. Coffee was harmless enough, and he would go into it with his guard up. But his priority, as always, was his girls. They were his light, his second chance at happiness, and he would do whatever it took to ensure their safety and well-being.

Welby’s jaw tightened as he refocused on the road. The snow was now falling heavier, blanketing the serene white landscape. He let out a quiet sigh, the warmth of the car a stark contrast to the cold outside. He reminded himself that he would face it for them no matter what lay ahead. His girls deserved nothing less.

Welby’s attention was drawn to the dashboard as a message flashed across the screen. It was from Miranda, their Amazon minder. The sight churned his stomach, reminding him of the ever-present oversight looming over their lives.

The message began cordially, almost mockingly so:

“Mr. Welby, we’re pleased to see the progress made with the Littles under your care, particularly Emily. Her responses to the programmed episode were promising, and her adherence to the guidelines shows significant potential for compliance with societal norms. However, we’ve noted that Hannah remains... underwhelming in her adjustment.”

Welby’s jaw tightened as he continued to read.

“To ensure Hannah reaches her full potential, we recommend furthering her training as a newborn. Please see the instructions listed below for her continued training.”

The message ended with a curt but chilling note:
“We trust you understand the importance of this training. Any deviation could result in a reevaluation of your suitability as a caregiver. Please report back with detailed updates on Hannah’s progress.”

Welby’s grip on the steering wheel tightened, his knuckles white as he read the instructions. It felt like a punch to the gut. Hannah had already endured so much, and now Miranda expected him to push her even further into the role of a helpless newborn. It was abhorrent, a blatant attempt to strip away the last vestiges of Hannah’s independence and humanity.

He glanced at Hannah in the rearview mirror. She was still asleep, her small form in the oversized infant car seat. The thought of reducing her further, forcing her to become something she wasn’t, filled him with a helpless rage. But the reminder of Miranda’s authority loomed large. If he resisted too openly, it could cost him everything—not just his freedom but his girls’ safety as well.

Welby exhaled shakily, forcing himself to calm down. He needed to think carefully about his next steps. Maybe he could comply with Miranda’s demands on the surface while finding ways to shield Hannah from the worst of it. He owed it to her and Emily to protect them from the twisted expectations of this world.

Still, the weight of the message lingered as the snowy road stretched ahead. Their challenges were growing, and Welby knew he must tread carefully to keep his family intact.

*

As the car slowed and turned into the driveway, Hannah stirred slightly in her snug, reclined car seat. Wrapped warmly in the fleece blanket, she nursed her pacifier rhythmically, the soothing motion a small comfort as her eyes fluttered open. A dull ache in her bladder made itself known, and she let out a soft sigh, deciding it wasn’t worth holding any longer.

Relaxing her muscles, she felt the warmth spread through her damp diaper, the padding swelling slightly as it absorbed the liquid. The sensation was immediate—comforting in its warmth and softness, yet deeply humbling. The wetness pressed against her skin, cradled by the thick, fluffy layers, and she wiggled faintly, the faint crinkle barely audible beneath her blanket. Nursing her pacifier, she felt a strange mix of relief and submission, the act so second nature now that it barely fazed her.

The car came to a stop, and she heard the familiar click of Daddy unbuckling his seatbelt. The driver’s door opened, then shut, and moments later, she heard the soft murmur of Daddy speaking to Emily as he opened her door.

Hannah blinked, her cheeks flushing faintly as she felt the car seat adjust, the faint mechanical hum resetting Emily’s seat upright. She watched through sleepy eyes as Daddy gently helped Emily, collecting her pacifier and ruffling her hair affectionately.

Then, it was Hannah’s turn. Daddy came around to her side, opening the door and leaning in. “There’s my little princess,” he murmured, his voice warm as he unwrapped her from the blanket and lifted her effortlessly into his arms. She nestled against his chest, the familiar scent of his cologne wrapping around her as securely as the blanket had.

As Daddy adjusted his hold on her, his hand naturally rested on the seat of her diaper, gently pressing against the warm, squishy padding. His voice was soft but teasing: “Well, well, someone’s been busy, hasn’t she?”

Hannah’s cheeks burned as she buried her face in his shoulder, her pacifier bobbing faintly. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him, too embarrassed by the knowledge that he’d felt just how wet she was. But Daddy only chuckled, his tone playful and kind. “Don’t worry, baby girl. We’ll get you all sorted out inside.”

With Emily holding his other hand, Daddy carried Hannah into the house, the door clicking shut behind them. The warmth of their home greeted them, and as Daddy moved toward the nursery, Hannah found herself relaxing once more in his secure hold despite her lingering embarrassment. 

Hannah squirmed on the changing table as Daddy began to strip her of her winter clothes. Her cheeks were already pink from the warmth of the nursery and the lingering embarrassment of being so wet. She clutched her pacifier with both hands, her teeth softly pressing into the shield, as Daddy worked efficiently, carefully removing her damp diaper and wiping her clean.

Before he reached for a fresh diaper, Daddy hesitated, his expression shifting to something more serious. He glanced at her, his hand resting gently on her tummy. “Sweetheart,” he began, his voice soft but tinged with discomfort, “we need to talk about something.”

Hannah looked up at him, her alarm growing. She sucked harder on her pacifier, trying to brace herself for what was coming.

“Our minder, Miranda… she’s been keeping a close eye on us,” Daddy said. “She’s pleased with Emily’s progress, but with you, she… well, she thinks we need to push further. To regress you more.” His words were slow careful, as though he hated having to say them.

Hannah’s eyes widened in alarm, her heart racing. She spat out her pacifier, clutching his arm. “What does that mean? What does she want to do to me?”

Daddy gave her a reassuring squeeze, his thumb brushing her cheek. “It’s going to be okay. I promise. I will follow their guidelines just enough to keep them off our backs, but I need your help, Hannah. We have to make it look like we’re complying.”

Hannah swallowed hard, her cheeks burning. “I’ll help,” she said quickly, nodding. “Anything to keep them from interfering more.”

Daddy offered her a small smile before pulling a diaper from the shelves behind him. Hannah’s breath hitched as she saw it—it was massive, far thicker than anything she’d worn before. The pastel designs on the front were bright and babyish, but the sheer bulk of it made her stomach twist.

“This is one of their suggestions,” Daddy explained sheepishly as he slid the diaper under her. “It’s designed to keep you from walking or toddling. You’ll have to crawl.”

Hannah’s face turned crimson as he fastened the thick diaper snugly around her waist. She felt the padding force her legs apart, making standing seem impossible. She wiggled slightly, the bulk crinkling loudly, and let out a mortified whimper.

Daddy pulled out the next item: a padded sleeper in a soft, pastel hue. It had built-in mittens and booties, the fabric thick enough to muffle most movements. “This is another one of their ideas,” he said, apologetic, as he helped her into it, zipping it up securely. “It’s meant to keep you as dependent as possible.”

Hannah bit her lip, her blush deepening as the mittens enclosed her hands, robbing her of dexterity. She felt small, helpless, and utterly humiliated as Daddy adjusted the sleeper and stepped back to take a look.

“They also suggested… these,” Daddy added hesitantly, holding a newborn pacifier. It was large, with a shield that would completely cover her mouth, and he didn’t need to explain further for Hannah to guess the implications. “They have… side effects. But we don’t have to use them if you can fake it. Drooling, babbling—no real words. Just act like a newborn when she’s around.”

Hannah’s heart pounded, and she clutched at the padded mittens helplessly. “I… I’ll try,” she whispered, her voice shaking. “I don’t want them to… to use that on me.”

Daddy bent down and kissed her forehead, his voice full of reassurance. “You’re a brave girl, Hannah. We’ll get through this together. Just remember, if Miranda’s around, play the part. Drool, coo, let me carry you. We can do this.”

Hannah nodded, the bulk of the diaper and the warmth of the sleeper making her feel smaller than ever. She couldn’t help but glance in the mirror on the wall, seeing her reflection—completely enveloped in her new outfit. She let out a shaky sigh, her voice soft. “I’ll do my best, Daddy.”

Daddy smiled gently, scooping her into his arms and cradling her against his chest. “That’s all I can ask for, sweetheart.” His hand rubbed her back soothingly, the thick padding of the sleeper muffling the motion. “We’ll get through this, I promise.”

Daddy cradled Hannah gently in his arms, her padded bulk making her feel even smaller as he rocked her back and forth. Her cheeks were already pink with embarrassment, but they deepened further when he brought the warm bottle of formula to her lips. She whined softly, shaking her head as she pressed her mittened hands against his chest, but Daddy’s expression was firm yet kind.

“I know, sweetheart,” he said, coaxing the nipple into her mouth. “But they want to see more regular feedings. It’s part of their guidelines for newborns, and…” His voice trailed off for a moment, his reluctance clear. “They also expect more… diaper usage. Newborns go through far more diapers than someone Emily’s age, and they’ll be looking for that consistency.”

Hannah’s blush turned fiery, and she let out a muffled whimper as she began nursing. The warm, creamy formula filled her mouth, tasting slightly sweet but hinting at something richer, reminding her of a watered-down milkshake. She swallowed reluctantly, her mittened hands clutching Daddy’s shirt as he held her close, rocking her rhythmically. Despite her embarrassment, his embrace's soothing motion and warmth made it easier to comply.

As she continued to nurse, Daddy spoke again, his tone grave but gentle. “There’s something else, Hannah. They’ve developed special programming for you—shows like Naomi and Oliver but tailored even more specifically to push regression.” He hesitated, watching her reaction. “For now, it’s only a suggestion, and I promise, as long as it’s not mandatory, I won’t show them to you. But it’s something we’ll have to be prepared for. It’s a looming threat, and I need you to know about it.”

Hannah whimpered softly around the bottle, her eyes darting to meet his. The thought of enduring something even worse than the cartoon they’d already seen made her stomach twist with dread, and she found herself nursing the bottle harder, almost as if to block out the thoughts.

Finally, the bottle was empty, and Daddy gently pulled it away. He shifted her over his shoulder, patting her back until a soft burp escaped. He wiped her face clean with a cloth, his voice apologetic as he spoke. “I know this is a lot, baby girl—more than anyone should handle. But I believe in being transparent with you and Emily. I want you both to know I’m always honest with you. You deserve that.”

Hannah’s heart squeezed at his words. Daddy’s sincerity and care shone through despite everything, and she wanted to show her appreciation. Even though the mortification of her situation made her want to bury her face in his shoulder and hide forever, she forced herself to play the part.

“Fank ‘ou, Dada,” she lisped around her pacifier, her voice soft and halting like a toddler learning to speak.

Daddy’s eyes softened, and a small, warm smile spread. He kissed her forehead gently. “There’s my brave girl. You’re doing so well, sweetheart. We’ll get through this together.”

Hannah nodded faintly, resting her head against his shoulder. The rhythmic patting of his hand on her back was a strange comfort as she tried to brace herself for whatever was coming next.

Daddy kissed Hannah’s forehead again, his lips lingering as though silently apologizing for the overwhelming changes she was facing. “You’re such a good girl, Hannah,” he murmured, his voice tender. “Now, stay here while I get your sister changed, okay?”

With that, he gently lowered her into the playpen. The soft, cushioned floor crinkled faintly beneath her as her padded bottom settled down. He adjusted the blanket around her for warmth before leaving Hannah in the pen.

She lay there momentarily, her pacifier bobbing in her mouth, staring at the colorful mobile spinning lazily above her. She could hear Daddy’s footsteps retreating toward the changing table as he began changing her, but her focus shifted to her predicament. Curiosity—and a bit of defiance—spurred her to test the boundaries of her new outfit and diaper.

Hannah first tried sitting up, which proved surprisingly challenging with the restrictive bulk of her padded sleeper and the impossibly thick diaper between her legs. The mittens covering her hands made gripping anything nearly impossible, and she felt her cheeks heat with frustration as she struggled. After a few clumsy attempts, she managed to roll onto her side and then onto her tummy.

The thick sleeper and diaper muffled her movements, making even this small victory feel exhausting. She wiggled experimentally, trying to push up onto her hands and knees, but the bulk forced her legs so far apart that crawling seemed insurmountable. She collapsed back onto the mat with a soft whimper, her pacifier bobbing faster as she sucked for comfort.

As she lay there, she truly began to grasp just how helpless she had been rendered. Every movement felt laborious, and every small adjustment was a reminder of how reliant she now was on Daddy for everything. The realization made her stomach twist with humiliation and unease. For the first time, she wasn’t just playing the role of a baby—she truly felt like one, utterly dependent and unable to fend for herself.

Her thoughts swirled as she rested her cheek against the soft mat, the colors of the playpen’s walls blurring slightly as her eyes stung with unshed tears. She hated this helplessness, but she knew that fighting it would only make things harder. With a sigh, she resolved to do her best to play along. If this were what it took to keep Miranda and the government off their backs, she would endure it—for herself, Emily, and Daddy.

For now, though, she remained sprawled in the playpen, quietly testing the boundaries of her new reality and trying to prepare herself for what was to come.

Daddy finished adjusting Emily's pajamas, the simple, childish design fitting her snugly and emphasizing her toddler-like role. He smiled down at her, gently patting her head before scoping Hannah out of the playpen. Hannah felt herself lifted effortlessly into his arms, the bulk of her sleeper and diaper making her feel smaller and more fragile. He nuzzled her cheek, his warm breath tickling her skin.

“I’m going to try holding you as much as I can, sweetheart,” he said softly, his voice filled with affection. “I figure it’ll be easier for you this way. Less time struggling and more time feeling safe.”

Hannah nodded sheepishly, her cheeks pink as she nestled against him. Despite her humiliation, there was something undeniably comforting about being in his arms, and his steady presence offered a small sense of security.

The three of them headed to the living room, Emily trailing behind as Daddy carried Hannah effortlessly. Once there, he gently lowered Hannah into a newborn baby bouncer near the couch. The bouncer was designed for infants and reclined with padded sides and soft fabric. It rocked slightly as he adjusted her, the motion soothing in a way Hannah didn’t want to admit.

“I’ll be right back, girls,” Daddy said as he snuck the straps around Hannah, ensuring she was secure. “I need to get the tree set up. You two relax for a bit.”

Hannah watched him leave, the bouncer's rhythmic bouncing responding to her slight movements. The straps pressed lightly against her chest, holding her snugly in place, and the soft fabric cradled her as she shifted awkwardly. She couldn’t move much, and the bouncer’s design further emphasized her restricted mobility.

Emily knelt beside the bouncer, her face concerned as she leaned closer to Hannah. “Hey,” she whispered, her voice soft. “Are you okay?”

Hannah glanced at her sister, the movement making the bouncer sway slightly. “I’m fine,” she replied, though her cheeks flushed a deeper pink. “Humiliated, but… fine.”

A grin tugged at Emily’s lips as she sat back on her heels. “You know,” she began a playful glint in her eyes, “I think the Amazon government must have figured out you’re the brains of this operation. They’re going all out to keep you down—overly thick diapers, padded sleepers, newborn bouncers. It’s the only way they can attempt to suppress your abilities.”

Hannah couldn’t help but giggle at the thought, her pacifier bobbing slightly as she smiled. The absurdity of Emily’s idea was oddly comforting, making her feel a little less trapped by her predicament.

Their lighthearted moment was interrupted as Daddy returned, carrying the tree secured in a stand. He set it down in the corner of the living room, the pine’s green branches filling the space with the unmistakable scent of the holidays. Straightening up, he turned to Emily with a warm smile.

“Emily, want to help me decorate?” he asked, brushing his hands together as he looked at her expectantly.


Emily’s grin widened, and she shot Hannah a reassuring look before standing. “Absolutely!” she said, her enthusiasm growing. She reached for the box of ornaments Daddy had brought in earlier, eager to get started, while Hannah watched from her bouncer, a faint smile lingering on her lips.

Hannah lay in the bouncer, the gentle motion responding to her slightest movements as she watched Emily and Daddy string twinkling lights around the tree. The soft glow illuminated the living room, casting warm reflections off the shiny ornaments Emily eagerly handed to Daddy. Hannah’s pacifier bobbed rhythmically in her mouth, the soothing motion helping to ground her conflicting emotions.

On one hand, she despised how restrictive the government was with her. The absurdly thick diaper, the padded sleeper, the bouncer—it was all designed to render her utterly helpless. It chafed against her sense of independence and pride, a constant reminder of how much control she had surrendered for this arrangement.

Yet, a small, quiet part of her—the ABDL side she rarely admitted to anymore—found strange comfort in the treatment. The warm embrace of her diaper, the sleeper's snugness, even the bouncer's gentle rocking—it all offered a peculiar kind of security. Her feelings were duality, leaving her in limbo, caught between embarrassment and a reluctant enjoyment of her current state.

Her gaze drifted to Emily and Daddy, their shared laughter and ease filling the room with a comforting sense of family. It gave her hope that she could play the part the government demanded and keep up the act without things spiraling further. But the thought of the hypnotic cartoons lingered at the edges of her mind, an ominous threat she hoped they would never be forced to endure again.

Her stomach gave a soft gurgle, interrupting her thoughts, and Hannah’s cheeks flushed as the reality of the formula’s effects became clear. It was working its magic on her system. She shifted slightly in the bouncer, feeling the telltale pressure growing stronger, and knew it was only a matter of time before she would have to give in. Her blush deepened as she glanced toward the tree, hoping Emily and Daddy were too distracted to notice her predicament.