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Baby Pudge

@babypudge

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Just putting it out there that I'm really not a fan of anyone adding on their own stories or "sequels" when reblogging one of my posts - it could very well get you blocked.

Normal reblogs (or ones with a short comment or compliment directly related to my post) are always fine and I'm thankful for them.

It's bad enough that the babysitter never came back with the post-bedtime story bottle refill they promised, opting instead to make out with their boyfriend and leaving your nursery lights on in the process...

But now, the adults are finally home and they're already at it too. You're just hoping they decide to turn on the baby monitor for foreplay...

Otherwise, you won't be getting lights out until the early AM diaper check Daddy normally gives you - almost always "accidentally" waking you up in the process and gloating about the fact that his body woke him up to use the potty, while proudly confirming that you've once again helplessly soaked your Pampers in your sleep.

"You beg me for weeks to wear blue again, and when I let you, you don't even have the gratitude to accompany me to the store for the family's weekly shopping without making a fuss! I swear, you're the most ungrateful little brat I've ever had the misfortune of nannying - and to think you used to be the "man" of the house. I'd spank you right here and now, but the diaper aisle seems like a more appropriate venue for reminding you of your proper place in this household."

"Besides, the drive to the store will give you some time to sit in your carseat and think about how you should be more appreciative of the few times I bother to listen to your incessant requests for adult luxuries like "dignity", "privacy" and "choice." Just be thankful I've already changed your diaper recently, or that'd be on the agenda as well. But don't worry, next week I won't be bothering to replace your putrid Pampers until we've reached the parking lot, either before we shop... or maybe after."

"Work From Home? That's what you thought the company's new WFH program was about? How would that cut down on all the bathroom breaks you've been taking on company time?

No no no, Work From Highchair! We're running out of desk space and the daycare center is pretty empty these days, but HR says we need to keep the staff available to attract new talent, so we're making the most of it! Anyhow, cry if you need anything but they're pretty good about diaper checks and sippy cup refills around here. Someone'll come by around 11:45 to feed you lunch - I hope Apple Banana Medley sounds good, 'cause that's what you're having!

BTW, have fun with all the new parental locks on your computer, I wouldn't try accessing anything outside of Slack, Gmail and PBSkids.org if I were you. Don't act like you're not enjoying this, the guys in IT gave me a full report. Did you think "private browsing" was really private?"

You used to be embarrassed when Daddy changed your Pampers at the park... these days, you're just glaring at him from behind your bottle because he interrupted playtime on the jungle gym with a very thourough diaper check that could have waited for the walk back to the minivan - ugh, he's such a showoff.

The adults are telling everyone that they were worried throwing you a lavish Disney Princess themed birthday party would spoil their diapered little darling, but you had "begged them for weeks" - and you had!

🎀 You begged them to cancel it.

🎀 You begged them not to send invitations to all your friends.

🎀 You begged them to do it indoors so the neighbors wouldn't see.

🎀 You begged them not to donate all your boy clothes to make room for your new "gifts."

🎀 You begged them to turn down the local TV station's request to record the whole thing for one of their "Weird Wednesday" news segments, which have been going viral online.

You're just so precious when you beg. How could they deny their Pampered Princess his very special day?

"It's a simple concept, really. Eventually you'll just naturally adjust to being seen like this - after that, you won't be nearly so uptight anymore about little things like wearing padding under your pants or carrying around a regular diaper bag when we go out.

Provided I ever let you go back to doing either of those..."

Sure, you've been drugged, muzzled and blackmailed into living your foreseeable future as part of a "super-squad" of fellow diaper-boys who are expected to play Paw Patrol all-day, everyday for the amusement of some insane millionaire, but at least you get to be Chase!

It's just a simple backyard wedding, despite the extensive guest list, perfectly understandable for two new parents. The gift registry is equally practical - requesting that everyone contribute to a money pool to be spent on diapers and wipes for their precious new baby in lieu of standard wedding presents.

The only issue is, it’s YOUR backyard, and YOU’RE the new baby - not to mention the bride is your ex-girlfriend - henceforth to be referred to as Mommy, unless you want a spanking. But there’s no time to dwell on all that, Daddy's darling diaper-cuck - you need to focus on your official duties as the Flower “Girl.”

Posing for countless photos, greeting guests with a well practiced curtsey, enduring endless pinches on the cheek and relentless pats on your padded posterior - not to mention properly distributing the rose peddles as you lead the love of your life into the arms of another man - it's a big job for such a little baby!

You were relieved when Mommy promised you'd be back in boy's clothes after their honeymoon... until you heard the toast Daddy gave at the afterparty, right before you were sent off for beddy-bye and locked into your crib, where he revealed that he'd decided - as the man of the house - to postpone the trip "until our little one is out of diapers."

Seeing the delivery drivers continuing to drop off countless pallets of pristine Pampers at the gift table, you knew that day would never come.

Externally, you're shoving another large spoonful of mush into your face, paying no attention to how much lands into your mouth.

Internally, you're screaming at yourself to stop, to unbuckle the restraints, to tear off the diaper you've been slowly filling up all afternoon, to run out the door and return to your old adult life - but only the look in your eyes gives any indication of whats really going on inside the giant, messy toddler thats mindlessly feeding himself while "Daddy" takes yet another video to share online. No doubt about it... the hypnosis is working, just like the "grown-ups" said it would.

You didn't think the extended sissy punishment that you'd earned by briefly straying from Daddy's side at the mall could get any worse, until you overheard "Grandma" suggesting that it'd be much easier for Papa to keep track of his reluctant lil' princess if he just starts putting you in a walking harness and tap-shoes during your daily outings.

"Why the long face, my sulky little sailor? You asked for an outfit that'd cover up your diaper while we're out shopping, and it looks perfectly covered to me!"

I might end up taking this down (depending what kind of feedback I get) but if there's any content I'm not making currently, or just haven't done in a while that you'd like to see, here is a form to request a post from me: form.jotform.com/73456960650866

The embarrassing ordeal of this morning’s neighborhood-wide egg hunt may be behind you, but the annual family Easter get-together has only just begun. Hearing your name called from the living room for the second time, and knowing from experience that a bare-bottom spanking awaits you if a third is required, you start to waddle your way towards the next several hours of relentless sissy-baby humiliation...

Feeling fired up tonight 🔥🚒

It's impossible to be certain, seeing as the grownups took the clock out of your nursery a few months ago - but judging by the fact that you're recently up from your afternoon nap, your daytime diaper feels about half full and the adults are very audibly enjoying their Sunday "wrestling" session, you're pretty sure that's it's currently 3pm. Based on the all-too-familiar noises coming through the wall, you'll most likely be getting let out of your crib just in time for a bath, dinner and bedtime...

The grownups call you their Bouncing Baby Boy. Perhaps its because of the way you bounce in your crib when you want out, knowing all too well that babies aren't allowed to talk in this house. Or maybe it’s due to how you bounce in frustration while strapped in your highchair as you watch Mommy take big bites of her steak in between pushing another heaping spoonful of bland baby food into your mouth. Another reason may be the way you’re often sent off to bounce in the inflatable castle the adults rent for the bimonthly backyard BBQ they throw so your former big-boy friends can see just how far you’ve fallen into your new infantile lifestyle. It could also come down to the fact that the grownups always put you in your baby-bouncer as they enjoy some “adult time” together, spurred on by your futile attempts to free yourself. More than likely, it’s because of Daddy’s habit of bouncing you on his knee after you've make dirty diapers for him like a good baby. Then again, maybe it’s just a cute reference to the way you bounce against the restraints of your stroller during your daily locked & plugged “outdoor enrichment time” on the bumpy cobblestone walking path at the local park. With any luck, you’ll figure it out tomorrow, when the bouncing starts all over again…

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