The Adventures of Poppy - By Daddy John

Daddies scenario for Poppy

We have driven to the shopping mall to go to a Toys R Us. You love visiting toyshops and are very excited all the way there. I am in my suit from work, even though it is only about 9.30 in the morning. You are wearing sandals, skirt and your favourite T-shirt. Your skirt is just long enough to ensure nobody notices your disposable pull-ups under it. Well nobody except me, as your skirt rides up a bit when you sit in the car (in the back seat like all good girls). As a treat you have a chocolate milk on the way in the car. You spill a little bit, but don’t make too much mess.

When we get to the shopping centre I ask if you need to go to the toilet, but you assure me you don’t need to go (even though you do sort of need to go, but public toilets are yucky). In the shop we look at all your favourite toys. You have been a bit naughty and have played with everything you saw. After a while we choose the right toy and are about to leave, when you stop moving. I ask if everything is OK and you whisper that you need to do a wee wee, right now. I ask if you can wait but you shake your head. It doesn’t matter too much, as you have your pull-ups on. You stand with your legs slightly apart and a cheeky look in your eyes. Nobody else is in the aisle, but even if they were they wouldn’t notice what was happening. You hold my hand tightly as the pressure in your bladder reaches breaking point. At first it is just a few drops, but then a stream of wee flows out of you. Maybe it is my imagination, but I am sure I can hear the muffled hissing sound of you filling up your pull-ups. You hold on a bit, concerned that the amount of wee will be too much for the pull-ups to absorb, and we pay for the toys quickly and head for the car.

In the lift to the car park you relax a bit, and bit more flows out, filling your pull-up to the point where it is now damp on the outside, and you can feel the tops of your thighs getting moist. Your pull-ups feel warm and heavy as we walk to the car. I am trying not to be too cross with you. I did ask you if you needed to go earlier, but you said no. On the other hand, you are so cute it is hard to get, let alone stay, angry. As a rather mild form of punishment, I make you stay in the wet pull-ups as we drive to our favourite picnic ground, under the Roseville Bridge. At the park, nobody is close by, so I get a change of clothes for you, as your skirt is now wet from the pull-ups. Luckily I had thought to put a beach towel under you. You lie back like a good girl while I pull the soaked pull ups off you, putting them into a plastic bag. I get some wipes and clean all the dried up wee from around your pussy and bottom. A quick sprinkle of baby powder and you are all clean, confirmed by a quick kiss on your butt. I search in my travel bag for another pull-up, but you tell me that you are feeling big, and want to wear grown up panties, so out come some floral cotton undies and on they go, along with a fresh skirt.

With morning tea in one hand, I fireman-carry you to a picnic spot near the river, and we have morning tea of milk arrowroot biscuits, and peanut butter sandwiches and lemonade. We play on the swings for a bit, then go for a walk along the upper reaches of middle harbour. As I am a responsible adult I have to do some reading for work, so I suggest we stop for a rest. Also I sense you are tired. You have a bit of a tantrum, snatching my journal. This is often how you behave when you get tired. You tear a page from my journal defiantly. There is nothing else for it. Without losing my temper, I sit down with my back against a rock or tree, and pull you over my lap. You struggle but you know it will do you no good, so you come up with another idea. I lift up your skirt and give you a firm smack on your bum. You don’t cry out, just tense up a bit. I give you a few more smacks, deliberately timed, leaving my hand on your bum each time partly to emphasise the smack, partly because I secretly love the feel of your soft round butt cheeks on my big hands. You continue to tense up, and as I lift my hand ready for another smack, a cracking sound comes from your bottom and within a couple of seconds your cotton panties expand to accommodate a big brown jobby. Simultaneously, a jet of wee spurts out, wetting my legs a bit. If you think this act of defiance will stop the smacking you are mistaken, and I continue, mashing the poop all over your bottom.

Enough is enough I think as I look down. Your hand is down your panties, either trying to stop yourself from weeing more or massaging your pussy, its hard to tell but either way you are squirming. I survey the scene for a while, then decide to peel your messy panties down. You need a firm punishment now. I slide out from under you, leaving you on your hands and knees. You know what is going to happen as you look up at me. I kneel behind you and unzip my suit pants, pulling them down slightly. I pull my undies down a bit, revealing a very hard, circumcised cock. I guide it slowly, just the tip first, into your anus. I slowly push further into you, and before long we have a good rhythm going, with you pushing back to meet my thrusts. The simmering tension from the morning takes its toll, and neither of us last long. It is hard to tell who comes first, but we both collapse. There is a lot to clean up, but I have brought along wipes and a change of clothes, so it doesn’t take too long. You have learnt your lesson, and to make it up to you I give you a piggyback to the car. You snuggle into your seat as I buckle you in, giving you a pillow to rest your head on. You drift off, and before you know it we are back home and our shopping and park adventure is over…