His Little Flower

[Fifers12]

A/N: 

Hey all! I just wanted to post this quick little one-shot! It’s currently 5:00 am and I wrote this to procrastinate sleeping. Hope you all enjoy!! 

ooOoo

Poppy Jacobs. 

His flower. His little girl. 

She was his favorite of the girls he’d acquired so far. 

He’d forgotten what it felt like to take care of another. How to be a true Daddy. It was the most precious feeling in the world.

He knew he made the right choice when he spotted her one year ago. 

Parker Montgomery was her name. A young college student who thought she was too smart for the world. 

But now she was exactly where and who she should be.

He smiled, snapping a picture on his phone of his flower, the pointed pink party hat secured around her chubby face. Her warm brown eyes, full of resignation, glanced up at the camera.

The fight was fun. It always was in the beginning but there came a point when they realized it was a losing game. Their broken spirit was just as rewarding- the first step in becoming truly his. 

“Flower, do you like your present?” a warm feeling spread throughout his chest, the smile radiating across his face. 

His flower was perfect- absolutely stunning. Not like the other Poppy’s who’d wilted and died. 

“Yeth Dada,” her voice was high, airy, obedient. She knew better than to disobey. The welts on her bottom were testament. 

“Tell Dada how much you love your birthday present baby!" his voice rose in excitement

Tears filled her eyes and a drop slowly dribbled down her flushed pale skin. The chains of the restraints around her ankles and wrists jingled- a sweet reminder of her inability to escape. 

“Poppy wove her pwesent Dada,” she answered dejectedly, shackled hands in her lap.

Submission- the one thing he craved was what he now had. There was a time she would’ve screamed and cried. There was a time she would’ve tried to attack and run.

 He treated her with meticulous care. Not a strand of her raven hair was out of place, pulled back in two tight ponytails on top of her head. Her skin was as smooth as a baby’s bottom, without a blemish and stomach round and full, due to her daily bottles of expressed breast milk and mashed foods. 

Now here she sat naked on her princess potty, body slumped down in defeat. Her sodden diaper stained yellow sat at her feet.

“Dada knows it’s Poppy's birthday today and you want to be a big girl. If you can show Dada how you can use the big girl potty, maybe we can try pull-ups and potty training.” 

Her eyes lit up as if she’d just received a puppy. 

“You have ten minutes to make a tinkle and a poo-poo. When Dada comes back and if the princess potty is empty- bye-bye potty training. Do you understand, flower?”

Like a bobble head, she nodded quickly, a new energy rushed through her body.

“Words, poppy.”

“Yeth, Dada!”

ooOoo

Today was March 17th. St. Patrick’s Day. Also known as the day of her kidnapping. In her kidnappers mind- her birthday. 

She only knew him by the name of Daddy, Dada, or Papa. He was careful not to reveal any information about himself. The most she’d found out about him in the past year was that he was a violent and dangerous man. 

If the illusions to previous captive girls told her anything- they were dead. He referred to them as his Flowers and the others having “wilted and died.” If that wasn’t a symbol for death, she didn’t know what was. 

After many spankings, soapy mouths, catheters and enemas, she learned there was a breaking point. 

The twenty one year old- now turned one- was not sure when it happened but it did. 

Like a file cabinet, her memories of before were stored away at the back of her brain so she could become who she is now. 

Parker Montgomery: the fit, sociable, Nebraska State College student, majoring in History was a thing of the past. A distant memory fading each day. 

Nowadays her only goal was making her daddy proud, finishing her bottles and being the best little girl she can be. 

She did not want to wilt and die.

While Poppy knew, she’d possibly never gain her adulthood back, having been rendered incontinent, this was a first step. 

A baby step. 

An odd feeling churned in her tummy, seated on the pink plastic seat. It had been so long since she’d been out of her diapers. It’s not that she liked them but she’d become used to them. The soft padding felt like being cocooned in a warm fuzzy blanket. 

This potty was hard and plastic. It was cold beneath her powdered bottom. Before, if she even looked at the toilet, a severe lashing was applied against her tender skin. 

Now he wanted her to use it. 

She didn’t understand. 

Poppy could hear him in the kitchen, just around the corner. 

The television played. It was set to the show, Mr. Potty Head. A show for potty- training littles. 

Her eyes widened, the inflated pink paci bobbing up and down in her mouth. 

This was a no-no show. Wasn’t good for babies.

Babies like her went potty in diapees. 

She would wait patiently, squishing around in her mess for dada to change her. First there was the front pat to see how wet she was and then the two fingers down the back. 

She’d lay back, spread her legs, and wait patiently as her dada untapped the padding and ran the warm wipe across her princess parts before powdering and re-diapering her. Sometimes it was double padding, sometimes it was triple. 

He said it made her more cute, crawling around the house with her diapered bum wiggling in the air as she swayed unsteadily on her hands and knees. 

Rarely was she clothed because it would make it too difficult for a quick change. She’d grown comfortable naked, learning to ignore her chubby stomach and thick thighs. 

 Now, she was being given a chance to grow up. To prove that she was a big girl- something she’d desperately wanted. 

Why was she so afraid?

All she had to do was push. Her eyes squeezed shut, nose wrinkling as she attempted to loosen her bowels. To let loose a little dribble of pee. 

C’mon Poppy! Be a big girl-

“Flower?”

Oh no. 

Her eyes flashed open, the warm tones of the grey room flooding back. 

The man with sandy colored hair, tan skin and sharp jaw peered down at her. His eyes, an ocean blue, narrowed. He towered over her, already a foot taller and frowned. 

The color drained from her face. She whimpered, “Dada!” 

He sighed, shaking his head and arms crossed over his chest. 

“It’s been ten minutes, baby.”

She got lost in her mind. Again.

“Did someone make a present for Dada?”

Lying was what naughty girls did but telling the truth could get her spankies… 

“Baby? I’m waiting for an answer.” His tone was short. Clipped. 

If he heard the shakiness in her voice, he chose to not to comment. 

“I…” the words were numb on her tongue. “I no able to go pothy.” 

Her head bowed, waiting for the stern rebuke. 

But it never came. 

“You did your best, Flower.” his voice was unusually soft with a hint of sincerity? 

No. She couldn’t be hearing that right.

Hesitantly, her head lifted up, surprised by the fact he’d squatted down to her height. 

“It’s ok, Poppy. Dada isn’t mad.”

He’s not? She sunk down on the seat, her hand in his. 

“You’re just a baby. Girls as little as you aren’t ready to use the potty. That’s ok though because we have diapers.”

Once again, tears welled up in her eyes and snot ran from her nose. 

No, please! One more try. One more-

Her restrained arms shot out, reaching for him to pick her up.

“Dadaaa!” The wail of a baby echoed from her body. 

Parker no! You’re bigger than this!

“Potty scawy!” 

Stop this nonsense! Do you really wanna spend the rest of your life in a diaper?

“I know, baby!” he cooed. “We’ll try again next year on your birthday. How about that, hmm? It seems someone wants to stay my little flower.”

Yes. she sighed in relief, suckling on the rubber object. 

No, Parker, listen to me! Listen—

Maybe even next year the restraints will come off. She’s been a good girl. She has, she really has!

“Now let’s get you into a clean diaper. I bet that’ll feel good. Won’t it baby?” he asked gently. 

The man didn’t wait for a response, helping her shift down to the ground were a changing mat was already laid out. 

“Now Flower,” he began, fiddling with a few other things she couldn’t see. “Dada doesn’t want to do this but I want my favorite princess to have the best birthday.”

Oh no. Please god, not this-

“I know they are not your favorite people but Mr and Mrs. Bubbles wanted to wish you a happy birthday!” she could hear the smile in his voice, setting up the enema and suppositories. 

“Afterward you can play in your jolly jumper, how about that?”

Well… that did sound pretty fun. 

Sometimes it was best just to ignore the big girl voices in her mind because that wasn’t who she was anymore. 

She was just a little baby. 

His little flower.

[1505_madmax]

I liked it!

[Bby Eddie]

This was a really cute story