Puppy the clown
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@dumbdiaperdork
Puppy the clown
I never really know how many stuffers to use.. I just keep adding till my thingy say enough đ
Your friend is looking forward to seeing you in diapers đ Now you will wear diapers like a big baby!! đđŒ
Now that you're back in diapers....
Those parts in between your legs, they're *USELESS*
it doesn't matter how big or how small they were before, or how you liked to use them. They have absolutely no purpose as far as you are concerned.
The only time anyone will see or touch them are brief moments between diaper changes. Cleaning the filth from them before taping you back up into your thick crinkly prison.
No one wants anything from them, and neither should you.
Accept it.
my soggy diaper has no face to sit on âčïž
just another degenerate Gen Z fucktoy begging for male attention
Don't worry baby, no one's trying to see what kind of undies you've got on. You keep playing.
@cumpliantly
Today in unactionable fantasy fetishes: I really want to be body controlled. Not mind controlled, I still get full use of my brain, but I want my body turned into a puppet that doesnât listen to me.
You say âBounce your tits for me,â and while my brain says this is demeaning my body bounces to make my breasts jiggle. You say âYou can only walk on all fours now,â and while my brain knows that I can walk on two legs my body canât figure it out.
I donât know I think it would be hot
đđđHypnotizing you with my diaper buttđđđ
Thinking is for big girls, I'm just a dumb baby pamperpacker who empties all her big girl thoughts in her diapers. đš
obesity
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Itâs so cute how you barely even put up a fight anymore. After all, you know it is whatâs best for the both of us.
*Please feel free to download + repost :-)
I sit and watch you try to sit up in bed, not because Iâd mind helping, but because I love to watch you struggle. I love catching that glint of horror cross your eyes, when you realize your whopping belly is just too heavy to move without grabbing hold of the sheets for leverage.
You groan, tired and helpless, pushing yourself upright with both hands while your belly sloshes around unpredictably â a completely separate entity from you. Youâre already winded. We havenât even started the day.
âGood morning fatassâ I coo, leaning in to kiss your sweat-damp temple. âEnjoy being able to get out of bed while you still can. It shouldnât be long now.â
You shoot me a look, half blushing, half flushed from the movement, and try to get to your feet. The swaying of your body with the slightest movement is unavoidable now. You donât walk at all; you waddle. You donât step; you haul. All that lard packed tight onto your thighs, slapping and jostling against itself, belly dragging you downward like an anchor of pure fat.
I trail behind you as you lumber toward the bathroom, and I canât stop smiling. The way every inch of you bounces and sways. The slow, rhythmic harmony of your belly chafing on your thighs and the floorboards creaking is hypnotic. And when you finally pull yourself into the shower and plop down onto the shower chair, you let out a huff that can only be interpreted as a sigh of relief. Because we both know you barely made it.Â
When you come out, you use your gut to ground the towel in place around your waist, and you sit on the edge of the toilet. I hand you your socks and wait. Watch. You try to lift your leg to cross your ankle over your knee, but your belly presses up into your chest. You have to lean back to breathe multiple times, and I canât hide the fact that your immense struggle at the simple task of putting on socks is making me squirm with pleasure. You roll them half on and youâre left red-faced and gasping. I can see the sweat pooling at your collarbone.
âYou ever think about how permanent this is?â I say as I pinch a lump of your triple chin between my fingers. âHow this isnât weight you can ever lose? Itâs your whole life now. Youâre never getting smaller. Thereâs no âbouncing back.â Your body is ruined, baby. Completely useless except to me. And all because you're such a hopeless, impotent glutton.
One day youâll wake up, try to get out of bed, and realize the only thing youâre capable of is wiggling your fingers. You wonât even see it coming.â
BIG DIAPER FRIDAY đŠ
âAww, my precious little diaper brain, look at you humping away at that pile of your messy, stinky diapers like the desperate, drooly baby you are those squishy, sagging loads all smeared and reeking from your endless accidents, the pungent odor filling the room as you grind pathetically against them, whimpering and babbling incoherently. And oh, those bulging bags stuffed full of your soiled, crusty disposables?
They're proof positive of what a total, regressed mess you've become: a helpless, hump-happy infant with nothing but diaper thoughts swirling in that foggy head, leaking and stinky without a care, just begging for Mommy to tease you more about your filthy little habit.
Keep going, sweetie , you will always be my dumb baby droolingâ.đ©·
MORE IN MY JFF
what's that baby? I'm making your head all fuzzy? Aw that's adorable! Just let it keep happening and focus on my voice only! That's it...don't mind the drool coming out of your mouth. You look cute when your eyes glaze over like that. No more thoughts in that head of yours, ok?
What are you waiting for âš
Stop listening to your mind