New World Order - Chapter 4

“But why do I have to have them?” Ella whined, running her tongue over the metal and plastic that had been fitted against her teeth. “I’m a grown woman! I don’t need braces!”

John pulled her along through the shopping centre. “It’s not because you need them, sweetie,” he said. “Daddy just thinks they look cute on you.”

“They make me look stupid!”

John stopped walking so abruptly that Ella walked into him. Before she knew what was happening, he’d looped an arm around her waist, pulled her body tightly against his, and kissed her deeply. Ella made a feeble noise of protest and tried to pull away, but John’s tongue plunged into her mouth, and she quickly submitted to his advances. Soon she was kissing him back enthusiastically. They broke apart after a minute or so, both breathing heavily.

“They make you look sexy,” said John, and Ella felt her tummy flutter. Her boyfriend pressed his forehead against hers. “In fact,” he said, his voice deep and gravelly, “I might just have to take you into the men’s room and put that pretty mouth of yours to work.”

Ella blushed. She’d been sucking his cock a lot lately. Blowjobs weren’t something she’d ever really done in the past. She’d never seen the appeal of having a guy’s dick shoved in her mouth, not to mention how ranting about the demeaning, patriarchy-worshipping sex act was one of Miranda’s favourite topics. But ever since she’d sucked John off during her first potty trip, it had become a routine part of her life. It happened almost every time she used the potty now – she’d ask him politely to take her to the bathroom, making sure to get her tits out and shake them while she did so, and remembering to be specific about what she needed (thankfully he’d so far agreed to wait outside if she had to go “poo-poo”), then she’d use the potty, and once she’d finished peeing, she’d suck his cock. He wouldn’t always cum; mostly he’d just have her slurp on his prick for a while, and then he’d wipe her pussy dry and supervise her while she pulled her pull-ups back up and emptied her potty into the toilet.

John planted a quick kiss on her nose. “That will have to wait though,” he said with a wink, breaking Ella out of her thoughts. “We’ve still got to buy your new clothes!”

Ella couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed as John took her hand again and led her further into the mall. She didn’t want to be the kind of girl who blew her boyfriend in a public toilet, but there was no denying that sucking him off made her feel decidedly adult, and opportunities to feel like an adult were starting to become rarer and rarer… In fact, this might just be the last day she got to dress in her own clothes for quite a while.

People were bustling all around them doing their shopping, and Ella felt sick at the sight of so many women dressed up like absurd parodies of little girls – their outfits ranged from the vaguely childish to the overtly babyish. Almost no young woman was on her own now, and those that were looked nervous and uncomfortable, as if they thought they were doing something they weren’t supposed to be. Most older women seemed to have been spared, at least for the time being. Their clothes were feminine, but they didn’t look like they were wearing outfits picked out of a toddler’s fashion catalogue.

Ella’s eyes were drawn to a middle-aged woman, perhaps in her mid-forties, pushing along an enormous stroller. She was wearing a polka-dot patterned dress that made her look like a housewife who’d stepped out of the 1950s, and she was smiling broadly. The sulking, red-faced young woman in the pram looked less pleased about her own position. Her arms were crossed grumpily over her chest, and the large pacifier between her lips didn’t quite conceal her pout. A frilly, canary-yellow bonnet framed her face, and she had a matching t-shirt, but between that and her socks she wore nothing but a bulging cloth nappy held in place by a pair of comically oversized safety pins. Or at least, they would have been comical if Ella hadn’t found the whole sight so horrifying.

The more Ella looked, the more evidence she found that she wasn’t the only one with padded underwear. Not far from the girl in the stroller, another young woman was walking along holding onto a man’s hand. She wore a bright pink t-shirt, under which she was clearly braless, with the words “Potty Pants” written across the front – and there indeed was something about her puffy, bubble-hem shorts and waddling gait that suggested a diaper. A girl with high pigtails and a scowl passed by them holding the hand of a man who might have been her father, and Ella was sure she saw a flash of white beneath the hem of her dress, the hint of a nappy, and heard a tell-tale crinkle. Pull-ups seemed to be more common; there were enough short skirts and transparent tights for Ella to spot a wide array of training pants hugging young women’s bottoms in place of panties. Many wore Huggies, like her, but there were brands she didn’t recognise on display as well. A woman of about thirty was standing off to the side, crying and covering her face with her hands while her husband tugged a pair of thick cotton training pants up her legs. A used pair, white with a pattern of baby ducks, sat heavily on the tiled floor beside her.

“Here we are, baby,” said John, and Ella dragged her eyes away from the woman to see they’d reached a shop called Cutie-Patooties: Little Girl’s Wear For All Ages. The mannequins in the windows were modelling ludicrous, pastel-coloured outfits with endless frills, and thick nappies bulged out from underneath their petticoats.

“John, please…” Ella begged urgently. Her stomach felt like it was in free-fall. “Can’t I just keep my normal clothes? I’m already wearing these stupid pull-ups. Do you have to make me dress up in baby clothes as well? I’ll look like a joke.”

“That kind of attitude is exactly why you need a new wardrobe, Ella,” John said sternly. “You need to learn that you’re not above looking a bit silly. Your clothes are supposed to make you look that way, sweetheart. Just like your new braces.”

“You said they made me look sexy,” Ella said, blushing angrily and feeling self-conscious again of the childish wires across her teeth.

“And I meant it, darling,” said John, giving her hand a squeeze. “For girls, looking silly is sexy. Now, before we go in, do you need Daddy to take you to the potty, princess?”

Ella felt her blood pressure rising. “No,” she snapped.

John raised an eyebrow. “That was an awfully quick answer, baby. Are you sure? Take a few seconds to really think about it. Concentrate on the feeling in your bladder and see if it feels full.”

“I don’t need ‘a few seconds to really think about it’, John,” Ella insisted. “I’m not a toddler! I don’t need to go!”

“You haven’t gone potty all morning, darling,” said John. He was looking at her suspiciously. “Are you telling Daddy a fib, baby? Are you being fussy because you’re about to wet yourself?”

“No!”

“Have you already wet yourself?”

“No!”

“Hold still and let Daddy check.”

Fuming, Ella stood still while John slipped his hand down the front of her jeans to feel her pull-up. She glanced around at all the people surrounding them, then stared down at her feet, her cheeks burning. “Still dry,” he announced. “What a big girl!”

“I told you I was,” Ella huffed. She felt a twinge in her bladder. She did actually need to pee, but telling John that now would be way too embarrassing. She’d just have to hold it for a while and wait until she could be the one to make the suggestion. She didn’t want him thinking he had to remind her to use the toilet.

“I had to be sure, sweetheart,” said John. “It wouldn’t be the first time you’d wet your pants in town. But that’s enough dawdling – at this rate, we won’t get back home in time for you to get dinner ready!” He pulled her into the store, ignoring her whines of protest, and marched her over to a selection of dresses just like the ones the mannequins were wearing. “What do you think of this?” he asked, picking a pink frock off a railing and holding it up. It was so short that Ella suspected it would barely even reach below her waist. She glowered at him while he held it up against her body. “It suits you,” he said, his eyes glinting with amusement. “It’s nice and short too, so I’ll be able to see if you have any accidents in your pull-ups. And look, baby! It comes with an adorable bonnet to keep the sun off your pretty little head. I think we’ll get it.” Ella could only watch miserably as her boyfriend added the infantile new outfit to their shopping cart.

He picked out three babydoll dresses next – one pink, one blue, and one yellow. They might just about pass as something an adult could wear, but the same couldn’t be said for the overalls with the fluffy bunny on the front, or the baby-block and rattle patterned onesie he added to their basket afterwards. Then came the t-shirts, covered in Disney princesses or else bearing embarrassing slogans like Loading Diaper… 70% or Daddy’s Little Stinker.

Ella made a particularly sour face as these last two were added to their cart, and John grinned at her. “You want something a bit more grown-up?” he asked. He picked another top off of a rack and turned to her with a smirk. “How about this, baby?” The purple t-shirt had the words Daddy’s Little Sucker written across it in pink letters. Ella felt herself going red. “Or maybe this?” He held up another shirt, baby blue this time, with I’m Always Wet For My Daddy! printed on the front. “Don’t you think you’d look cute in these?” Ella couldn’t look him in the eyes. Her pussy tingled in her pull-ups, and her bladder gave another twinge.

Socks were next; frilly white ankle socks and thigh-highs with little bows and tights with patterns of hearts and teddy bears. Then shoes; a pair of Mary Janes and light-up trainers and ballet pumps. Finally, he picked out some clothes that were more like costumes than anything else – a skimpy schoolgirl uniform, a pink princess outfit (complete with a plastic tiara), a white leotard with a puffy tutu, and lastly a pair of strap-on fairy wings that John said “wouldn’t need anything to go with them”.

Ella might have put up more of a fight over her new clothes if she hadn’t been too busy concentrating on holding her pee. They must have looked at every item in the shop, and at this point she was just pleased that they’d surely be leaving soon.

“Okay baby,” said John. “I think we’re all set. Let’s go and try them on, shall we? The changing rooms are just over there.” He pointed to a corner of the shop where, Ella saw, there were some open areas marked with tape on the floor.

“Those aren’t rooms, John” Ella whined, digging her feet into the floor and trying to stop herself being pulled along. Her bladder gave a spasm. “Can’t we just pay for the stupid things and go?”

“No, Ella. I want to make sure everything’s the right size… Why are you so eager to leave, sweetheart? Are you starting to feel the need to use the potty?”

“I… Yes…”

“Okay, baby. Good girl for telling me early. We’ll just make sure your clothes fit and then I’ll take you to the toilet before we head home.”

“But-”

“Come along, darling.”

Ella felt helpless as she was dragged over to the “changing rooms”. She knew she ought to tell John she was getting desperate for the potty, but she just couldn’t stand the idea of seeing the look on his face if she told him she’d been lying about her need to pee. She clenched down hard on her bladder. She was a grown woman. She could hold it.

John positioned her in the middle of the changing space and started to undress her. Ella’s eyes kept flitting to her right, where a woman a few years older than she was had been stripped completely nude, and was being coaxed into trying on a Little Mermaid swimsuit by her husband.

Ella was soon standing in nothing but her bra and her pull-ups. She felt so exposed standing in the middle of a busy store with so much skin on display, but even worse was the mirror fixed to the wall – she’d have no choice but to see herself in all of the ridiculous clothes her boyfriend had picked out. One by one, John tried her in her new outfits; he had her spin around and bend over and strike a pose for each new piece. Most fitted fine, although one or two things had to be swapped out for a different size. All the while, Ella did her best to ignore the growing ache in her bladder.

Her frilly frock was last, and John had two sizes for her to try. “Sweetheart, does that feel too tight over your jugs?” he asked, once the first was pulled down over her head.

Ella flushed and looked at the ground so she wouldn’t make eye contact with the woman next to her. She nodded.

John whisked the dress back up over her head and slipped the second one over her almost immediately. “How about now, baby?” he asked, smoothing the material out over her chest. “Comfy boobies?”

Scarlet with shame, Ella nodded meekly. His humiliating questions were bad enough, but she had another, more pressing problem. Her need to pee had been getting more and more urgent, and now she was right on the verge of having an accident. She pressed her thighs together as tightly as her pull-ups would allow, but it wasn’t enough to stop a brief squirt of pee dampening the front of her training pants. She gasped.

“Baby?” John was looking at her with concern. “You okay?”

“Yes!” she squeaked. Another quick jet of wee-wee entered her pull-ups.

“You sure it’s not too tight?”

“Uh-hu!”

“Alright, princess… Sockies next then.” He knelt down in front of her and started slipping a pair of white ankle socks over her feet, and as he lifted her leg, Ella felt her bladder give in. With a rush of warmth and a faint hissing sound, pee flooded into her pull-ups. She could feel her Huggies getting heavier and heavier between her thighs. She was pissing her pants, and this time there was no evil barista to blame. This soggy pull-up was all her. As her underwear swelled with urine, Ella started to cry quietly.

“There we go!” John said happily once he’d slipped the frilly white socks onto her feet. He looked up. “Aren’t they cu… Ella? What’s wrong? What’s the matter, darling?” His eyes fell on her crotch, where the wetness indicators on her training pants had faded away. “Oh baby… Did you have an accident?”

Ella was trying her best not to sob, but tears were running down her cheeks. She could feel the laughing eyes of the man next to them, and she was sure there was judgement in the gaze of the woman. How could she do this? How could she disgrace herself like this, wet her pants and fall to pieces, prove the patriarchs right when they said women were childish and emotional and utterly helpless without men? Why was she so pathetic?

“It’s okay, my love,” John crooned, pulling her into his arms and stroking her hair. “That’s what your pull-ups are for. Daddy expects you to have accidents, darling. Shhh... Daddy’s here… Daddy’s got you…”

Ella buried her face in his chest and dissolved into tears. She didn’t stop crying when John changed her wet pull-ups right there in the store, slipping the disgusting, pee-soaked thing down her legs, wiping her privates clean, and replacing it with a clean pair. But nor did she complain – she had no strength left in her to complain – when he threw away the adult clothes she'd put on that morning and told her she’d be staying in her new frock for the day. And when he took her into a toy shop and bought her a fluffy teddy bear to cheer her up, she clutched it tightly to her chest and held it close all the way home.