“Naughty diaper girls don’t get coffee,” he said, his voice gentle, but with an edge of admonition. “Especially when they’re rude and use unladylike language.”
He took a slow, deliberate sip from his mug, maintaining eye contact the whole time. The rich aroma of the coffee reached me, making my mouth water. I hadn’t realized how desperately I wanted that simple comfort until it was explicitly denied.
“So… if I start behaving, I could earn coffee privileges?” I asked, surprised to find myself genuinely curious about his rules. A tiny part of me wanted to understand the system he was creating around me—not because I accepted it, but because knowing the rules might give me some sense of control.
Jax’s smile widened, revealing perfect white teeth. He seemed pleased by my question. “Yes, Little Lulu. You can earn coffee privileges. And big-girl panties instead of diapers. Even big-girl dresses when we go out.” He set his mug down on the nightstand and sat beside me on the bed, his weight making the mattress dip. “But only if you learn to be a good girl.”
His large hand came to rest on my thigh, just above the edge of my diaper. The casual possessiveness of the touch made my breath catch.
“And right now,” he continued, “you’re very, very far from being a good girl. Especially since you already have a punishment coming from your behavior last night, which I’m going to increase because of what you said just now.”
I swallowed hard. “The… the language thing?”
“That, and wetting your diaper.” His fingers traced small circles on my skin. “But we’ll address all that properly after we take care of more immediate matters.” He stood up, towering over me. “First, it’s time for your bath. Daddy needs to get his little girl’s pussy nice and smooth and ready to take Daddy’s cock, after her spanking.”
A rush of heat flooded between my legs, making me acutely aware of the diaper’s bulk. The childish way he spoke about me combined with the explicitly sexual content of his words created a dissonance that was both disturbing and bizarrely arousing. I felt my nipples harden beneath the silky nightgown, and I hated my body for its betrayal.
This is insane, I reminded myself firmly.This entire situation is completely fucking insane. I’m not a child. I’m not his property. I’m not ‘Little Lulu.’I need to focus on finding a way out, not on how his hands feel on my body.
But even as I mentally repeated these assertions, I couldn’t ignore the pulse of arousal that throbbed between my legs at the thought of Jax bathing me, touching me, controlling me.
“Let’s get those restraints off,” he said, reaching for my bound wrists. “But I expect perfect behavior. Any attempt to fight me or run will result in consequences far more severe than what you already have coming.”
As he released my wrists, I flexed my fingers, enjoying the return of full mobility. The pink cuffs remained around my wrists, but at least they weren’t attached to anything now. I considered my options. The bedroom door wasn’t that far away. If I made a run for it…
“Stand up,” Jax said. “It’s time to go to the bathroom.”
As I stood there in the diaper and childish nightgown, with my wrists still encircled by the pink cuffs, a moment of clarity suddenly cut through the fog of confusion and arousal. I needed to be smart about this. Fighting him physically wasn’t going to work—he was twice my size and clearly had resources I couldn’t begin to imagine. But if I played along, gained his trust…
I could gather evidence. Names. Locations. Everything I’d need to bring down this entire operation—Jax, Walker, Charlie, all of them. They’d trafficked a human being. They’d imprisoned me. These were serious crimes, and even if I had to admit to my own involvement in Charlie’s drug business, the consequences for me would be minor compared to what these men would face.
Probation for me, maybe. Community service. I’d been a college student before everything fell apart—surely the courts would see that I could get my life back on track with the right rehabilitation program. I might even qualify for witness protection if this went as deep as I suspected.
But a small voice in my head warned me about the danger of this plan. Not physical danger—something far more insidious. The way my body responded to Jax terrified me. The shameful heat that pooled between my legs whenever he touched me, whenever he called me hislittle girl… what if I started to believe it? What if I actually started to want this?
No. I wouldn’t let that happen. This constituted a performance, nothing more. A necessary deception to secure my freedom. I would play his game until I found a way out.
I took a deep breath, lowered my eyes submissively, and whispered, “Okay, Daddy.”
The change in Jax’s expression was immediate—what looked like a flash of skepticism, quickly replaced by what looked like a deep satisfaction I wasn’t sure I trusted. He reached out and cupped my cheek, his thumb tracing my lower lip.
“That’s my good girl,” he murmured. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
He led me to the enormous en-suite bathroom, his hand firmly gripping mine. The space was all marble and glass, with a shower large enough for four people and a deep soaking tub that could easily fit two. He guided me to stand in front of the vanity mirror.
“Look at yourself,” he instructed.
I raised my eyes reluctantly. The girl in the mirror had disheveled hair and wide eyes. I tried to focus on that rather than her wearing a childish pink nightgown over a bulky diaper. The pink collar around my neck gleamed in the bathroom’s bright light, the tag declaring me ‘Property of Daddy Jax’ clearly visible.
“This is who you are now,” Jax said, standing behind me with his hands on my shoulders. “My naughty little girl, learning to behave herself.”
I nodded meekly, playing my part while silently reminding myself that this was all temporary. Just a performance to survive until I could escape.
“Let’s check your diaper,” he said.
Jax’s hands moved to the front of the humiliating thing, pressing gently between my thighs to check for wetness. I stood still, cheeks burning with embarrassment as he inspected me like a toddler.
“Good girl,” he praised, his voice warm with approval. “Your diaper is nice and dry this morning. Since you’re being such a good Little Lulu, you may use the toilet.”
