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All characters are adults, but horribly immature. This is a work of fiction, not necessarily set in the real world. Every time you criticize online fetish erotica for being unrealistic, a fairy gets tax audited. Think of the fairies! I was a little leery of going in to Kelly’s bedroom while she was sleeping. It had been three hours now since I’d finally gotten my baby girl down. Kelly was normally a deep sleeper, but it always took forever to get her to calm down and go to sleep, doubly so when woken in the middle of the night. But I’d forgotten the case of my angel’s diapers in the car, and I knew they needed to be put away before morning. As I stood in the upstairs hallway, I briefly considered just setting the snipped-open bag outside her door, but I didn’t want to leave a single extra thing to deal with in the chaos of getting her ready for daycare. So I turned off the hallway light and carefully turned the doorknob… Kelly’s room was full of pinks and pastels, all illuminated by the nightlight in the corner of the room. The white noise machine was still filling the room with its soft roar from the top of her clothes drawer, while the oil diffuser made its own addition of lilac and vanilla. I looked over to the changing table and was reminded that there was only one disposable left on the shelf, and that I’d carelessly placed the evening’s story book on her changing pad. “Good thing I caught that before morning,” I thought. Being extra careful with the diaper bag’s plastic crinkle, I removed each of the diapers and stacked them neatly on the shelf. I also took a quick survey of her other supplies: Brand new bottle of baby powder, plenty of boosters still, the lotion bottle looked to be about half-full, baby wipes were running a little low, as was Kelly’s special diaper medicine. Her oversized diaper pail probably needed to be emptied soon, but there was no way I could get that done quietly. I’d take care of it tomorrow while Kelly was at daycare. Quickly and quietly, I put the storybook back on the shelf and cleaned up a few errant toys and clothes on the floor. And I was about to sneak out again, when my attention turned to the crib, and the angel sleeping inside. I crept up to the railing and looked down: Below me lied the center of my world. Kelly slept on her side in her Abby Cadabby pajamas, clutching Mr. Blue, her stuffed shark. It had been unseasonably warm the last few nights, and she had kicked off her blankets, her puffy padded butt and the waistband of her diaper plain to see. Her mouth was just slightly open, and a little spot of drool had formed on her pillow. And just a few inches away from her mouth, her nighttime bottle, now empty. Even with her short bob cut, her hair had partially obscured her eyes, but in the dim light I could just make out her eyelids moving. She was dreaming! I stood there a while, watching her body gently rise and fall with her breathing, and thought about how we had gotten here and how long it had taken. I thought about all the visits to the Regression Clinic; all the complicated restraints and cuffs I’d had to use at first; standing next to her while she was tied up with her headphones and goggles, a syringe in one hand, waiting for the computer screen to indicate the right moment to administer her hypnosis medicine (I had to; the Clinic was closed for Covid and I didn’t want to lose any progress); the ridiculous wait list to get her into regression daycare; and all the tantrums, carpet stains, and messy diapers I’d had to deal with. But it was moments like these that made it all worth it. There was just a perfect little creature sleeping peacefully right in front of me, and every time she called me “daddy,” it just made my heart melt. I leaned over the railing and reached down to pick up her empty bottle. As I drew close, I saw her face shift slightly, the rhythm of her breathing change, and through the hiss of the white noise machine, a soft grown escape from her lips. I froze and braced myself, waiting for her to suddenly shoot up and start demanding more stories, more cookies, or another episode of Bluey. But she didn’t wake up. Instead, Kelly shifted her legs slightly, and let a small sigh out. I knew what was happening. I reached down to the seat of her pajamas, and, very gently, placed my hand on her bum. Sure enough, I could feel her padded tush warming up. Whatever silly little girl dream she was having, it looked like it now included making peepees in her nighttime diaper! I smiled down at my adorable little princess. Kelly was so little, so sleepy, so full of milk and juice (and regression meds), and so busy with her dream that she just couldn’t hold it anymore. Of course she couldn’t hold her daytime peepees (or poopies) anymore either, nor was she really trying anymore. But seeing her like this, wetting her diaper in her sleep at night, completely unaware, just made her look more helpless, fragile, and special. Regressing Kelly was the best thing I’d ever done! I was about to sneak out of the room again when I paused. Kelly’s a heavy sleeper, but she’s an even heavier wetter. She had had a second sippy cup of juice at dinner, and it was only a little after 10 now, so she would probably wet again before morning. I always put a booster in Miss Niagra’s diaper for nighttime and naps, but would she still leak? Maybe I should change her now… One last look at my baby angel put an end to that idea. How could I possibly wake my little baby girl now?! I softly closed Kelly’s bedroom door, went back downstairs to put the empty diaper package in the trash, then decided it was time for me to have a few dreams. In the morning I would have to change a very soggy diaper, get her dressed, comb her hair, help her eat her breakfast, and get her into the car and off to daycare, all without a meltdown if I’m lucky. And I still need to order more meds, and empty the diaper bin, and maybe change wet bedsheets. But right now, the universe is perfect. Kelly, my regressed baby girl, is sleeping without a care in the world.

Hi everyone. My first visit to the bedwetters sub-forum although as I am married to one, perhaps I should have been here well before.