Awww… ❤️ givin Stinky Bouncies to cute Baby Girls
"Sit."
Despite your trembling fear at what's about to happen, this part is easy: after two hours squatting in the corner, waiting for the laxatives to finish their dirty work, even the curve of His thigh provides a moment's relief to your aching calves.
"Pick up your feet."
You hesitate for just the ghost of a moment. It's not that you're trying to disobey: He trained that out of you months ago. But when the only mental stimulation you've had since last year are mindless cartoons, stacking colorful blocks, and staring at the floor during Tummy Time, you've found the connection between your brain and your body has started to atrophy.
"Pick 'em up!"
It's firm, but not cruel. He knows you're resigned to your fate, but He's already getting impatient.
The sudden pressure on the seat of your diaper causes you to cry out into the muffling rubber nipple of your pacifier. He hasn't had to secure that to your head for quite some time; your mouth now feels strange and unpleasant the few minutes a day you're not suckling it.
"Mmmnh! Mmmnh! Mmmmh! Mmmnh mmmmh mmmmnh!"
The first few bounces are startling, and do the most to spread your mushy mess into every crinkling crevice of your fluffy diaper. After a few seconds, there's a pause, and you wonder stupidly if that might be the end of the punishment. But He simply smacks the back of your diaper, making sure no part of your butt is spared from being slathered in the slick, brown mess you were forced to make.
"Mmmmnh...mnnh mnnh mnnh mnnh...."
You continue to whine as the bouncing knee picks up again in earnest, but it's more on principle than anything. He doesn't mind when you whine, as long as you do what you're told. Now that the damage is done, you try to concentrate on the rhythmic pressure being applied to your poopy parts...
"Mnnnnh mnnnnnnnnnnnnnh!"
It doesn't take nearly as long as you'd expect to get excited. You're never allowed to have Big Girl fun, and your Tummy Time is strictly monitored to make sure you can't try. You know you'll get in trouble. You know you'll be spanked until you can't waddle for a week. But your body is making the decision for you.
"Mmmmnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnggggggghhh..."
Your final, plaintive moan is one of both ecstasy and disappointment. The swirling butterflies you had felt in your diaper explode and send happy electricity up your spine...but it all happens so quickly. You had wanted time to savor it. To enjoy it. And now you'll be punished for sure.
"Don't let your feet touch the ground."
The lapse in concentration causes your toes to scrape the floor. Filled with shame and self-loathing, you snap up your heels and continue to moan and whine as the bouncing knee continues. Maybe there's time to try again...maybe you can find the butterflies. You can feel them swirling around already, preparing for an encore performance. Just one more time would fix you, and make your punishment worth it. Hurry up, butterflies! Hurry up!
"Stand."
😭
