Mommys house Mommys rules part 2
Amelia stirred awake the next morning as the first golden rays of sunlight peeked through the delicate, sheer curtains of her nursery, bathing the room in a warm, gentle glow. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, the former
adult kneeled up in her crib, her frame clad in just a soft Winnie the Pooh nightgown. Amelia had not slept well through the night - the unfamiliar lack of a pillow beneath her head had been quite unsettling, and she had ended up crying herself to sleep, overwhelmed by the strange new environment. Now, as she shifted, she felt the heavy, sagging weight of her thoroughly soaked diaper between her legs.
Instinctively, Amelia popped the large, soothing pacifier back into her mouth, the nipple disappearing past her lips as she began to suckle rhythmically. Her free hand reached out to clutch the soft, plush form of Mr. Fluffypants, her beloved stuffy providing additional comfort in this unfamiliar setting.
Angela sighed as she heard the telltale rustling coming from the baby monitor, not entirely to her surprise as her grown daughter Amelia had started a new early bedtime routine. Still, the noises emanating from the nursery prompted Angela to reluctantly pull herself from the comfort of her bed, clad only in a thin t-shirt and a delicate pair of lace-trimmed panties. With a mixture of anticipation and dread, she made her way to Amelia's room, pushing open the door to find her little girl clenching her stuffy while sitting on her bottom, which was clearly wet.
The unmistakable scent of urine and baby powder hit Angela's nostrils the moment she entered, causing her to wrinkle her nose involuntarily. Her daughter looked up at her with wide eyes, hands gripping the crib's rails to pull herself up as her sagging diaper hung comically between her legs. "Well, good morning, princess pee-pee!" Angela joked, unable to suppress an amused chuckle. "Does the baby need her little diaper changed?" Amelia shook her head stubbornly in response, eliciting another laugh from her mother. Angela stepped forward, lowering the crib's side and gave the heavy pamper a gentle squeeze under Amelia's short nightgown.
Are you sure, honey? It feels very wet to Mommy," Angela said with a concerned tone. Despite Amelia's protests, Angela knew it was time for a diaper change. She carried the reluctant woman over to her changing table and laid her down, quickly unfastening the tabs of the wet diaper. Angela worked efficiently, wiping away the urine from Amelia's delicate skin before lifting her legs to clean her backside as well. Throughout the process, Angela sang a soothing cleanup song, trying to keep Amelia calm and comfortable. Once the soiled diaper was removed and disposed of in her diaper pail, Angela carefully applied a layer of diaper rash cream and baby powder to protect Amelia's sensitive skin. With the fresh diaper securely fastened, Angela sat Amelia up and removed her nightgown, leaving the girl naked from the waist up. "I bet that feels better, huh, baby?" Angela cooed, scooping up Amelia and settling her on her hip. “Me no nakey”! Amelia babbled, but Angela gently dismissed her daughter’s babytalk nonsense. “Hush now, baby, you don't need a shirt with those little mosquito bites. I don't know why you ever owned a bra!" she said sternly as she carried the flat chested Amelia out to the kitchen and placed her in the oversized white Evenflo highchair.
As Amelia sat strapped in her highchair, her mother Angela fussed over her, making sure she was properly protected, tying a large white terrycloth bib featuring the beloved Sesame Street characters Big Bird and Oscar the Grouch snugly around her neck. With a practiced motion, Angela then slid the plastic tray into place, creating a contained space for Amelia's breakfast. "Who's ready for numnums ?" Angela cooed in a sing-song voice, her tone dripping with the saccharine sweetness. Reaching into the cabinet, Angela retrieved several jars of Gerber baby food intended for infants. Selecting a jar of plain oatmeal, Angela expertly poured the bland, mushy contents into a pink silicone baby bowl, ready to begin the tedious process of spoon-feeding her daughter.
However, as Angela approached Amelia with the first spoonful, the former woman’s face scrunched up in displeasure. "I wan big girl food!" she cried out, banging her fists against the highchair tray in a clear display of her dissatisfaction. Taken aback by her daughter's outburst, Angela's brow furrowed, and she fixed Amelia with a stern glare. "Excuse me, young lady, what was that?" she scolded, her voice rising in volume. "Little girls eat baby food, now open up for Mommy," she commanded, shoving the spoon of oatmeal into Amelia's mouth. But the stubborn girl
refused to cooperate, gagging on the mushy texture and spitting the food out across her bib and face in a messy display of rebellion. "It's yucky! I want real food, I'm not a baby!" Amelia screamed, her shrill voice filling the kitchen.
Angela angrily responded, "What did Mommy tell you about big girl talk?" as she forcefully fed her daughter, compelling her to swallow the baby food. After a few minutes of fighting, Amelia's face was covered in the remnants of oatmeal and banana purée.
Angela removed Amelia's bib and cleaned her face and hands with baby wipes, while her mother warned her to be a good girl and forget she was ever a big girl. Amelia started having a tantrum, crying her eyes out, as her mother left her in the highchair with a bottle of formula for a timeout, while she went to the bathroom and got dressed for the day.
When Angela returned, she placed a large white floral diaper bag with Amelia's name embroidered on the front. She added a couple of bottles of formula along with the package of baby wipes, already filled to the brim with diapers and spare clothes.
“Time to go byebyes”! Angela announced efficiently removing Amelia's highchair tray and unbuckling the girl from her seat. Amelia watched with wide, concerned eyes as her mother then pulled a soft blue baby top over her head, the fabric barely reaching down to the waistband of the thick, crinkly diaper Amelia was wearing. Despite Amelia's growing distress, Angela smoothly lifted her pampered princess onto her hip, throwing the heavy diaper bag over her shoulder as she headed for the front door.
Amelia's heart raced as she realized her mother was taking her out in just a diaper - she couldn't possibly go out in public like this! But before she could protest further, Angela was opening the door to reveal the most massive stroller Amelia had ever seen waiting on the porch. It was a hulking, oversized contraption in shades of pink and grey. Amelia's anxiety spiked as Angela quickly deposited her into the deep seat, pulling her legs through the leg openings and securing the sturdy 5-point harness tightly across her chest and pamper. "No byebye!" Amelia cried out, to her mother's clear amusement, as Angela placed the diaper bag over the stroller's handles before pushing the massive transport out onto the sidewalk with Amelia trapped inside.
Amelia's eyes were wide with panic as she was wheeled through the familiar neighborhood streets, the binky in her mouth muffling her cries of distress. She had no idea where she was being taken, but the apprehension was evident on her face as she clutched the sides of her stroller. Angela could clearly see the woman's trepidation, but knew this was something she would have to get accustomed to. Being out in public as a baby was going to be very normal for her. Before long, the stroller turned up a driveway that Amelia instantly recognized - it was the home of Lisa, the girl she had relentlessly tormented back in their high school days. "No, no, no!" Amelia wailed, the pacifier bobbing frantically as she shook her head. "Stop that this instant, little miss!" Angela scolded sternly. "Mrs. Stanky is going to measure you for some baby clothes she's going to make. Now you better behave, or you'll be over Mommy's knee with your diaper pulled down and a sore red bottom. Does baby understand?" Amelia reluctantly mumbled a meek "Yeth mommy" through the pacifier, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment and dread at the prospect of facing her former victim as a helpless baby. The tables had certainly turned, and Amelia was about to get a heavy dose of her own medicine.
Angela stood behind Amelia's stroller, the doorbell still ringing as she waited with bated breath for the door to open. After what felt like an eternity, the portal finally swung wide, revealing the smiling face of Mrs. Stanky. The older woman's expression instantly softened the moment her gaze landed on little Amelia nestled in the stroller, her eyes widening with delight. "Oh my goodness!" she exclaimed, her voice dripping with unbridled adoration. "She is absolutely adorable!" Mrs. Stanky bent down, her movements almost comically exaggerated, and proceeded to tickle Amelia's belly while cooing in a high-pitched, sing-song tone. "Look at the widdle baby!" she gushed, seemingly oblivious to Amelia’s growing humiliation. The juxtaposition was jarring - this was the same woman who, according to her recollection, had “tortured" her daughter, Lisa. Yet here she was in a stroller, heavily diapered
and nursing a large pacifier. Angela felt a wave of secondhand embarrassment wash over her as Mrs. Stanky's behavior grew increasingly infantilizing, the "cootchie cootchie coo “ noises eliciting a strong desire in Amelia to simply disappear. However, the older woman's enthusiasm was undiminished, and she quickly ushered the pair inside, eagerly offering to take Amelia's diaper bag as Angela carefully lifted her daughter from the stroller and settled her on her hip, the humiliation palpable as they stepped over the threshold.
“Cup of coffee?" Mrs Stanky asked as Angela set her daughter down on the floor. "Yes, please!" Angela responded. "Mind if I set up the baby's playmat to keep her occupied while we chat?"
"Go right ahead! I'll be back in a jiffy!" Mrs. Stanky replied before disappearing into the kitchen.
As Amelia sat on her playmat playing with her toys, Angela and Mrs. Stanky discussed options for the baby's wardrobe. "Dresses, onesies, sleep sacks, feetie pajamas and even a cute baby bathing suit. “Just have to get the baby's measurements," Mrs. Stanky announced, taking out her tape measure and assessing Amelia. "Might want to give her a couple extra inches, though. With her new high-fat baby food diet, I expect her baby fat to come back," Angela explained, as Amelia let out a loud fart while Mrs. Stanky sat back down on the couch.
Amelia's face burned with deep, crimson embarrassment as the two adults chatted, barely restraining their laughter at her expense. The former woman continued playing innocently, completely unaware of the adults' condescending conversation unfolding around her. Mrs. Stanky shamelessly bragged about her daughter's accomplishments, using the opportunity to passive-aggressively praise Angela, Amelia's mother, for the way she was reraising her daughter. "This is exactly what she needs and deserves, Angela!" Mrs. Stanky proclaimed smugly. "If you ever allow her to grow up again, I'm sure she'll turn out much better." As the older woman spoke, a distinct, foul odor suddenly crept into the room, originating from where Amelia sat playing. Both women immediately glanced at each other, identical grins spreading across their faces. "Amelia, did you make a stinky?" Mrs. Stanky asked in a sickly sweet tone, to which the embarrassed girl frantically shook her head. Knowing better, Angela quickly went over to her daughter, lifting up the back of her shirt and peeking inside the elastic waistband of the back of Amelia's diaper. Confirming her suspicions, Angela then slid her finger inside the leg band of her crotch finding it damp and saturated as well.
"Amelia's wet and poopy! Mind if I change her here?" she asked Mrs. Stanky “Not at all, Angela," Mrs. Stanky replied, offering to lend a hand. With a sigh of relief, Angela began laying out the changing supplies, ready to tackle the unpleasant task. Mrs. Stanky couldn't resist a playful jab, teasing Amelia about being the "stinky one" - a not-so-subtle reference to the time years ago when Amelia had cruelly nicknamed Mrs. Stanky's daughter Lisa as "Stinky" instead of "Stanky." The memory clearly still stung, as Amelia's face crumpled into tears the moment her mother began gently peeling back the dirty diaper. The front of the pamper was completely saturated, revealing a truly massive bowel movement pooled inside. With a deft, practiced motion, Angela lifted Amelia's legs high into the air, exposing her poopy bottom as she prepared to clean her squirming, whimpering daughter. But just as Angela was about to begin the unpleasant task, the silence
was shattered by a sudden exclamation - "Anybody home?" Lisa, the target of Amelia's childhood taunts, had walked in and stopped dead in her tracks at the mortifying sight of her former tormentor's poopy bottom on full display.
romaincrisis
gummygunk
stormborns
titsay
jbbartram-illu
snowghoul
