Content warnings for this story (click here for guide):
Present Leila winced and tried to focus on her work once more, but she couldn’t get the nightmare of that evening out of her head. In the end, she lay down on her bed and cringed as the events played back in her head.
“I… don’t want to go to the park…” said Leila.
“Oh, but I think you do,” smiled the postman, waving his incriminating phone once again.
“I’m not going,” she said, trying to sound resolute, but the postman was ignoring her as though she were a child. He began fishing out a pair of white patent Mary Janes with plastic bows on the toes, and placed them in front of her, before selecting a pink princess coat and matching earmuffs.
“Can’t have my little LeeLee getting cold, can we?” he beamed.
Leila panicked.
“This is… unreasonable! This is actually very unreasonable!” she cried. “What if… what if someone from my workplace sees me? I’m serious! That’s my job on the line!”
The postman thought for a second.
“That is a good point, poppet. It won’t do to get you in trouble at work, will it? That’s when you pretend to be a tough businesswoman, and that’s important for LeeLee.”
Leila breathed out a little.
The postman put away the princess coat, mittens, dolly shoes, sparkly pink bag and earmuffs.
“I think we should try LeeLee out as a big girl, and see if she can prove to me that she really is a grown-up.”
“Oh, thank fuck,” Leila whispered, reaching for her old clothes.
“Not so fast,” said the postman, lightly smacking her hand. “I did bring a little something for this, because Daddy knows best how sweet little girls should grow up. And you’re not going to BE a big girl, LeeLee. You’ll just be dressed like one.”
“I don’t…” Leila was about to say ‘understand’, when the postman wheeled out a new pink case. Where had that even COME from? He unzipped it and began to pull out pink items of clothing, much smaller than her toddler wardrobe.
“So,” he said, “Daddy thinks that good little girls need to learn how to become good big girls: soooo keen to please all the men and get all the cute compliments. That’s what Leila wants, isn’t it? To be a pretty giggly doll, looking all pretty for the nice gentlemen.”
“NO!” barked Leila. “I do NOT… “
“Does someone want their dummy again?” said the postman. Because I’ll happily bring one along in case Baby has a meltdown and shows she’s not ready to grow up.”
Leila fumed and shook her head.
“Good girl,” said the postman.
“OK, so we can take off your mitts, I think. Because you’re going to have to try again to put on some makeup. Hopefully you’ll do a better job this time, because right now you look like a funny little clown, don’t you?”
He pinched her cheek and Leila squirmed away. He then handed her a little makeup bag labelled ‘Spoilt’ and sent her to the bathroom to wash off her smeared makeup and apply some fresh. Livid at the prospect of having to put more on, Leila put on some tinted lip balm and a tiny bit of brown eyeshadow and waddled back out.
“Where’s my pretty princess?” said the postman. “That’s not nearly enough, LeeLee.”
“This is NOT my colour,” scowled Leila, peering into the bag.
“No fussing, unless you want a smacked bottom,” warned the postman. “I want you to use some of everything in the bag, please. Don’t waste anything!”
Leila glared daggers at him, but once again, he tapped his phone and her blood ran cold. She stomped back to the bathroom.
Leila was not a skilled make-up artist. She used everything she could, but the lighting was dim in the bathroom. When she emerged, the postman clapped and praised her, but fought back a snigger.
“What?” said Leila, furious at having to obey him, and at having to wear girly makeup.
“Nothing,” said the postman brightly. “You look perfect! My little pop star!”
He brought across the Barbie mirror and Leila snatched it from him with a face like thunder.
“Shit!” She was horrified to see an orange-foundation-covered face, fake eyelashes and a glossy pink pout. “Oh God, I need to take this off. Or some of it! I look ridiculous!”
“Nonsense, said the postman, stepping between her and the bathroom door. “You look perfect, as I’ve said. Now all the men will know you like attention! Ah, but wait –“
He grabbed a fist of her hair and Leila squeaked as she stumbled forward two paces.
“No, I think we need some special hair for your look,” he mused. Reaching back into the case, he pulled out a short blonde wig.
“And this,” he said, “will help avoid people recognising my little LeeLee, if she’s so shy.”
‘Could be worse,’ thought Leila, suspiciously, as he pulled a wig cap over her head, then the blonde crop over the top.
Her suspicions were well founded, as he then proceeded to clip in two blonde ringlet bunches, one on either side of her head, and fastened a sparkly bow clip onto each one.
“Now, try on your flirty outfit for me, LeeLee.”
He pulled out a ruffled pink flared miniskirt and a white fitted t-shirt with pink writing that said ‘How Cute Am I?’ He also pulled out pink heels and lace-trimmed ankle socks, along with a baby-blue PVC handbag.
“Ughhh,” Leila shuddered. Seriously?
The postman drew out a spanking paddle and tapped it playfully against his thigh, so she picked up the skirt.
Leila paused. For the first time in a while, she remembered the soggy mass between her legs. Her frilly plastic pants squished the cold wetness against her pussy, and she blushed to remember the way she’d humped her wet nappy against the wand toy, all in front of the postman.
“Um, I need to take off my… the… It won’t fit…” she began, scarlet at having to ask.
“Oh, I don’t think so,” said the postman.
“What? But you said I got to be big!”
“I said you got to dress up like a big girl. You know, like fancy dress.”
“But a big girl – an ADULT WOMAN – would not wear –“
“Soaked Huggies?” chuckled the postman. “No, she wouldn’t, would she?”
Leila winced as she realised how helpless she looked.
“Now LeeLee,” said the postman, cupping her chin to stop her looking away. “You can dress like a pretty, flirty lady tonight, but Daddy knows you might have a little accident, so your nappies stay on.”
“NO!” cried Leila. “That skirt is TINY! You can’t make me go out like this – “
“Well I WAS going to change you into fresh Pampers before we set out, but naughty girls stay in soggy ones,” said the postman. “What a grumpy girl we are today!”
“NO!!!” shouted Leila, even louder. “NO, you CAN’T!”
“Does someone really want a nappy change?” said her tormentor, reaching into the pink nappy bag and rustling around.
Leila scowled again and turned away from him. She wasn’t about to beg for a – UGH!
“As you wish!” said the postman, and zipped up the bag. “Tell you what, if you manage to get through the evening in your special flirty outfit and your safety nappies, and behave like a big girl throughout, I’ll accept that you’re ready to grow up. I’ll delete the baby pictures of you and you can be Leila again.”
“But I’ll look like a bimbo…” whined Leila. “A stupid ditz…”
“Nonsense,” said the postman. “Ah, but first things first. Off with your cute hairdo and on with your bra!”
Leila, who had always had small tits, boggled at the pink satin bra the postman was holding out.
“That’s far too big,” she said.
“Then you’d better fill it up,” said the postman. “These sweet little training tits are what a little girl has. Big girls need big, bouncy boobs for everyone to enjoy as she jiggle down the street!”
Leila gagged. Ughhhh, how was this her stupid LIFE? She hadn’t stuffed her bra since she was 12!
Realising she had no choice, she went to her sock drawer and began the humiliating task of filling her 32DD bra. She pulled out a few pairs and tried desperately to smooth them into the gargantuan bra cups. At last the damned thing was crammed. Livid, Leila took her ridiculous sock-boobs out to show the postman.
“Oh, that is precious!” he chuckled. “Aww, but it’s a bit lumpy-bumpy, isn’t it? And it doesn’t really move like a real pair of boobs, does it? Aww, LeeLee isn’t used to having big breasts…”
Leila, proud of her slim frame and streamlined tits, crossed her arms angrily over her chest.
“It’s the best I can do, OK? Not like I have any huge fake tits to hand.”
“Lucky for LeeLee that Daddy does, then,” said the postman, pulling out the single most horrible thing Leila had seen so far: a silicone one-piece with huge, jiggling breasts on the front. The rubber went all the way up under the chin, so in passing, they were convincing as true bouncy boobs.
“Oh God, I had to fucking say it,” scowled Leila, feeling even more laughable in her pathetic sock-bra.
“Oopsy-daisy! Let’s have that bra off you,” cooed the postman, enjoying her discomfort as the socks flew everywhere. “There are LeeLee’s tiny tits – aren’t they adorable? Not very convincing for a big girl, though. And now, let’s see if we can give my little girl a bit of bounce…”
He pulled the tight, cold rubber skin down over Leila’s head, and she gasped at the chill. Once the postman had smoothed everything down, she looked at her new chest in horror. It was huge. She turned to look in the mirror and was struck by how heavy these things were, then by how stupidly they bobbed and jiggled. Oh God, she was going to look like so stupid…
“MUCH better!” said the postman. “Real big-girl boobies to try out! Let’s get your pretty bra on, and get them nice and perky for all the men…” He fastened her bra, which was now only just big enough for her Barbie tits, and tugged her t-shirt down over the top. The new tits stretched the “’How Cute Am I?’ writing idiotically, as the shirt strained to contain its contents.
“Let’s take Baby to the mirror, shall we? Let her see how her costume is shaping up.” The postman took Leila’s hand and led her, squelching from her soaked nappy, to the looking glass. Once there, he put on her blonde wig and prissy blonde ringlets.
Standing there in her tight pink shirt, with her orange make-up, bimbo boobs and saggy Pampers, Leila wanted to cry. She couldn’t go out like this! She couldn’t!
“Such a cutie-pie!” said the postman, easing Leila’s mini-skirt up her legs and over her bulging nappy. “The boys are going to love you. They won’t be able to stop staring!”
Leila turned pale at the prospect of waddling down the street with all eyes on her.
“Aww, my little doll is getting nervous,” grinned the postman. “That’s ok, though. If you have a little accident, you’re already wearing your potty!”
Leila turned to the side and was dismayed to see just how much the nappy swelled out under the mini skirt. It almost looked as though she had a bubble butt, but not quite – anyone who looked too closely would work it out… not to mention the faint smell of urine hovering around her.
“Please… “ she whined. “Please don’t make me go out like this… “
“Has my little girl changed her mind?” said her tormentor. “Does she not want to be a big girl after all?”
“No, I do! I do, but –“ Leila stamped her foot in frustration.
“Oh, that reminds me – shoes!” said the postman. “Now, you didn’t like the plastic Mary Janes, did you?”
“Not much, no,” sulked Leila.
“They don’t really go with your big-girl costume, I agree,” said the postman. “So I thought these might be better for my big Barbie doll.”
He pulled out a pair of dizzyingly high clear plastic stripper shoes with hollow platform soles. On the side of each shoe was a coin slot and the word “Tips” in sparkly print.
Pushing the protesting Leila gently down onto the sofa with a wet squish, he swiftly fastened her feet into the shoes and clipped on matching locks to keep them in place.
“Whaaa?” Leila was bamboozled as the postman helped her to her feet, wobbling like Bambi. It was hard enough to balance with the heavy fake tits, but trying to walk in these towering heels was impossible.
The postman clapped with delight.
“Aww, I love the way those push out your chubby little pampered bottom, LeeLee. You’re going to be wiggling about for everyone to see! Let’s see you strut for Daddy! Show me your grown-up walk!”
Leila gave him a pleading “Must I?” look, then groaned and took one tentative, tottering step after another. Her stupid boobs bounced and nearly sent her off balance, and she was conscious of not letting her skirt ride up to flash her yellowed Huggies.
“Again!” This time she was instructed to walk toward the mirror and back, so she could see exactly how dumb she looked.
“You’ve turned me into a complete bimbo!” she wailed. “I look like the dumbest bitch alive…”
The postman brought his arms around her from behind, steadying her. He moved his hand lower to gently rub the front of Leila’s nappy, and whispered. “You certainly do. That’s exactly what you look like. A drooling, simpering, ditzy little bimbo. And everyone’s going to see you walking along, holding hands with your daddy. Because if you let go, or get stubborn, or make trouble for Daddy on our little stroll, I’m going to lift up your little skirt and check you in public, in front of everyone, and they’re all going to film it. It won’t just be my pictures and videos you need to watch out for.”
Leila whimpered, despite herself, grinding against his hand, to her shame.
“There’ll be so many sweet little pictures on social media,” continued the postman. “Maybe I should put on your bib over your huge tits and bottle-feed you in public, then burp you and bounce you on my knee? Everyone’s going to see what a dumdum you are – a giggly little bimbo dependent on her Dada, too brainless to get through potty-training…”
Leila felt herself getting warm and wet in her already-soaked pampers. What was wrong with her? This was a nightmare, but something about the way the postman talked was turning her on. Had he hypnotised her? Oh God, the thought of people pointing and laughing at her as he spoon-fed her from a jar and smeared the mush all over her face…
Dizzy, she let the postman clip a dummy to her pink top and lead her outside, swaying and stumbling, crinkling between her legs with every step.