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❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
wallacepolsom
dirt enthusiast
AnasAbdin
Acquired Stardust
YOU ARE THE REASON
Keni
One Nice Bug Per Day
Not today Justin
art blog(derogatory)

roma★

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Cosimo Galluzzi
styofa doing anything
we're not kids anymore.
Stranger Things
Sade Olutola
$LAYYYTER

Kiana Khansmith

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@lasvegaspilot
“You all tired out, squirt? Or do you just need a new diaper?”
She was your girlfriend’s best friend. Your girlfriend asked her to watch you while she was out to brunch with her new fling.
What confused you is why she took you to the park. She told you to go run around and have fun. She said it like it was the most normal thing in the world.
And it probably would be if you were 10. But you’re not. You’re 26. You have absolutely no idea why she expects you to just “run around and play.”
There was nobody at the park, not that it would’ve mattered. When you stood around, bored, she told you if you found two four leaf clovers, she would give you an “extra special diaper change.” She didn’t provide specifics, but it was enough for you.
You spent the next 45 minutes searching the fields. Looking around, squatting down to find one, counting the clovers. Completely absorbed in your task.
You finally found one. You brought it back to show her. “Wow, great job! Only one more, honey!”
You went back to keep looking. After 15 minutes, you asked for some water. You had completely forgot about the state of your diaper. But she didn’t.
“Honey, your diaper is absolutely SOAKED! You need a new diaper now or you’re gonna start leaking all over the grass!”
But you were determined to find the last clover. “Can’t I have 10 more minutes? Please?”
She laughed at how you looked. How you sounded. Exactly like a child. She knew the park was the right choice. “Sorry sweetie, but if I bring you home with a rash your girlfriend is going to kill me! Maybe next time!”
You pouted as she followed you to the car, your bulging diaper brimming with a few hours work, forcing you to waddle. You never realized how childish you looked.
She noticed, though. She smiled, overcome by how cute you were today. She had the cutest pictures to show your girlfriend.
I Melt With You
My babysitter doesn’t show the slightest hint of surprise as I grunt and push a load into my diaper. She smiles like she saw it coming a mile away.
Want to know the worst part of this whole situation? It’s probably not what you think.
Because it’s not the fact that I’m wearing a diaper. Or even that I’m pooping my diaper in front of her.
It’s not the fact that I have a babysitter waiting to change my diaper.
It’s not even the fact that I’m pooping my diaper in the middle of public while I eat an ice cream cone.
No, it’s how stupidly normalized this all is.
Things We Said Today
She never flinched despite the expletive-laced tirade exploding out of you in the middle of the park, her compassionate gaze never faltering.
Her unrelenting calmness in the face of your tantrum—something she would ordinarily have shut down immediately—took you by surprise.
But it didn’t matter. All the feelings and emotions that have been bottled up over the past few months finally erupted out of you. You didn’t even care about your diaper crinkling as you stomped.
By the time you ran out of steam, gasping for breath, you wait for the inevitable bullshit lecture about “big feelings” and all the naughty words you used.
Yet, you don’t see a trace of anger in her eyes. Quite the opposite.
All you see is understanding—as if she expected this. The unexpected reaction throws you off balance.
Not even the hot July sun can slow you down.
Not today.
“Come on, Daddy!”
“Okay, okay, I’m coming, babygirl!”
All I can do is giggle as you pull my arm, practically vibrating in excitement.
You can’t help it, you’ve never felt this big at Disneyland before. This isn’t your normal Disneyland outfit—this Minnie Mouse sundress is something that would never hide your diapers.
But they do hide your pull-up.
“Did you make it to the potty on time at all today, honey?” His pull-up, peeking out from his unzipped fly, is completely soaked even though I know for sure that he didn’t have a real all-at-once accident.
“I think I couldn’t make it every time…” His legs shift on the closed lid of the toilet. I had to follow him into the bathroom and get him sitting down before he would let me look at his pull-up. I could still hear him saying, “no…don’t look!” in my head.
“You peed a little bit in your pants every time you were on your way to the bathroom?”
He nods, looking up at me with sad eyes and that worried little crease between his eyebrows.
“No wonder you were so reluctant to let me check you.”
He squirms. “It’s not because I peed myself. It was just a little bit every time.”
“Well, it doesn’t matter how it happened. You’re still soaked.” I stand him up to his feet. I pull his pants down to his ankles while he watches me, thumb in his mouth and fingers hooked around his nose.
I help him kick his pants off and straighten up, meeting his eyes. “Aw…”
His thumb comes out of his mouth. “What?”
“Nothing. You just looked cute.”
He frowns, lips pouty, and looks away.
I cup my hand over his pull-up and feel its weight, pushing it up against him. “This is absolutely drenched. How much did you use it every time you didn’t make it all the way?”
“I didn’t use it. I had little leaks in it.”
“And that’s different from using it because…?”
“Because it’s not all at once. I wasn’t using it; it was helping me when I couldn’t make it. It was like back-up.” Thumb is back in his mouth.
“Uh huh…okay…” I slip my fingers between the sides of the pull-up and his little hips, gently pulling it down.
I drop it in his diaper pail. Now he’s standing naked in the middle of the bathroom.
“Do you think you’re really ready for pull-ups, baby?”
“Yes!”
“Do you think soaking your pull-up from little accidents all day means you’re ready? You don’t think it would be easier if you had a diaper?”
“Uh-uh!”
“No?”
“No…”
“You sure? It’s okay to ask for a diaper if it’s easier.” I reach up and smooth his hair. “It’s fine if you can’t make it, okay? You know that, right? I’m not expecting you to always hold it all the way. We both know you’re little.”
He puffs his chest up. “I don’t need you to not expect it from me! I can stay dry! I’m all ready.”
“You want a second try?”
“I’m gonna stay dry this time. I can do it. It’s not even hard.”
“It isn’t hard? Even though you didn’t do it almost at all today?”
He shakes his head. “It’s not hard. I can do it just fine this time, and you’ll say how proud of me you are and you’ll let me buy new underwear.”
“Okay, sure. And the underwear won’t get ruined this time, I presume?”
“No, this time I’m gonna be a dry boy. All day.”
“You won’t miss diapers?”
“Uh-uh.”
“I might believe you more if your thumb wasn’t in your mouth.”
He doesn’t acknowledge this.
“Okay, baby, let me wipe you down and we’ll try a pull-up again. Do you want the boy style or the girl style?”
“I want the purple one.”
“Okay, sure.” I take a pull-up out of the box under the counter and then open the pack of wipes we keep on the counter by the sink.
“Is that too cold?”
He shakes his head. I finish up by rubbing lotion on him and then he pulls his pull-up on by himself.
“See? I can do it.”
We get him into pajamas that don’t have any little wet spots on them, unlike the pants he left on the bathroom floor, and I go to my bedroom to tidy up a little.
I hear him stand up and go to the kitchen. The cupboard opens and shuts and then I hear the fridge door.
As I’m walking over to the kitchen, I see his shape on the couch in my peripheral vision. He’s sitting on the couch and I’m pretty sure he’s picked out a sippy cup for himself. I open the cupboard and notice that there are plenty of clean glasses.
I shake some chips into a bowl for myself and then fill another bowl with dry cereal for him. He’s cozied up on the couch, watching old school Sesame Street with one hand between his legs and the other around the handle of his sippy cup.
“Nice choice of cup,” I say as I sit down and set the snacks on the coffee table, and he jumps a little, so invested in the show that he must not have noticed me come in.
“Oh, yeah, um, not a lot of stuff was clean.”
“That’s not true. There were plenty of clean glasses. The coke bottle one, and the one with the cow on it, and the Guinness monkey one, and…”
He turns red. “Stooop-uh. You’re distracting me from the show.”
“Stop chewing on it.” I force the sippy cup out of his hands and he whines. “So much whining. Am I meant to believe you’re really so big that you can keep that padding dry?” I push him gently in the shoulder.
“What are you drinking?” I take a little sip from his sippy cup.
“You’re getting cooties on it!” he protests, reaching out to try to get me to hand it back to him.
I lean over and wrap one hand around the back of his head, leaning in and kissing him briefly on the lips. “Is that cooties?”
He sinks into the couch, pulling his shirt over his mouth. “No…”
“Why not? Because you liked it?”
He shakes it off and grabs at the cup again. “Give me my juice back. Ugh, you’re going to make me have to rewind.”
I unscrew the lid from the sippy cup and take one more drink. “Apple and grape juice?”
“Mhm.” He reaches out again and I finally pass him the cup. “Ugggh, you unscrewed it. Screw the lid back on for me.” He shoves it back to me.
“My goodness. Somebody who can apparently keep his pants dry needs me to help him put his sippy cup back together?”
“Yeah, basically.”
“You’re being very mouthy tonight. Do you want to keep that up?”
Now he looks a little guilty, chewing on one finger while I screw his cup back together. I pass it to him and he raises it to his lips immediately, starting to suck.
“There, that’s better. No more being naughty.” I decide to be kind and pick the remote up off the coffee table and rewind for him. “Is this where you were?”
“Uh-huh.”
He suddenly stands up, pulling a blanket off the couch with him, and sets his cup down on the table so fast that it tips over.
“Baby, that’ll roll off the table and spill,” I say, grabbing the cup and setting it upright. But he doesn’t say anything. He’s standing very still, one hand on his crotch.
“Uh-oh,” he says, eyes wide.
“What’s wrong? Ohh, are you peeing?”
He turns and starts to run towards the bathroom. “I can make it!” he yells.
I stand up and follow him. He’s standing in front of the toilet, pull-up around his thighs and a steady stream of pee hissing into the toilet bowl. I give his bare bottom a smack and then pull at the back of his pull-up.
“Um, you’re soaked.”
“No! I made it! Look! I’m going in the toilet!”
“You’re finishing up in the toilet,” I correct him. “Was that what you call a ‘little leak’?”
“No! That one was bigger. He’s finished peeing and goes to pull his pull-up back up. “But it’s your fault! You made me distracted.”
“Hey, you’re not planning on just pulling that back up and wearing it, are you? That’s not happening. You’ll leak for sure.”
He whines as I pull it off and go for the wipes again. After I’ve cleaned him up I reach under the sink again, but it isn’t a pull-up that I’m holding when I stand back up.
“No!!” His eyes are wide and scared. “No!! I don’t need that! I don’t need to wear a diaper like a baby!”
“Evidence would suggest otherwise.” I grab his hand and lead him to the bedroom.
“No!! I’m not lying down! You can’t make me! I’m not putting that on!”
I push him onto the bed and he starts to cry.
“Oh my god, dude. Dramatic much? It’s literally just a diaper.” I push his legs up until I can see his bottom and give him a couple more smacks. He quiets down, thumb back in his mouth suck-suck-sucking. Little tear tracks run from his eyes to his chin.
He helps me holding his knees up so that I can diaper him properly. “Look at that good boy.”
“Mmm…”
“You’re good now? You’re going to be good and not bad anymore?”
He looks up at me, glassy-eyed.
“Let’s go back in the living room and finish that episode, okay, honey? And now you won’t need to worry if you have to go pee. You can just use your diaper!”
“Mhmm.” He squeezes my hand as I pull him up off the bed. I help him back into his pajamas and follow him to the couch.
It isn’t long before he hugs his knees to his chest, expression vacant and eyes unfocused on the tv, and I know he’s peeing himself again already.
“Comfier, isn’t it? Admit it.”
“Okay, fine,” he says quietly. “It’s more comfortable. And…and…I like it.”
“Okay, good.”
Kryptonite
It doesn’t matter who you are. It doesn’t matter what you’ve accomplished.
None of it makes any difference when you’re about to have your diaper changed.
“Gosh, you’re so just so stinking cute, crinklebutt! I cannot get enough of those blushy lil' cheekies when you're looking up at me.”
She’s not wrong. I can feel my cheeks burning with the all-too-familiar shame that defines my new place in life.
Stripped of any pretense of adulthood. Utterly exposed.
There is no dignity in this position.
why do I even try?
Time for bed! Did you take your bath? Are you ready to wear your new diaper and onesie?
Reblog if you are ready for that 🩲👙
k but the moment i put on a diaper my immediate instinct is to pee in it it’s like my body knows it’s bby time🥹💓🍼
it’s like my body is conditioned to just let go 🙈
facts
I know for a fact that a diaper genie goes from holding 70 newborn diapers to five adult diapers
“Oh sweetie is that your I had a little accident face?"
"You're waddling like a pregnant duck. I think Mommy needs to do a diaper check right?
"Uh-oh... someone's a lot squishier than they were five minutes ago. You need a new diaper honey"
What a good boy You didn't even tell me. You just sat there and filled your diaper for me huh?"
That's your third soggy diaper today... come on admit it. You really like this don’t you?
“Oh baby that’s a stinky one. Did you just do that while Mommy was talking? You couldn't wait even one minute?"
“You filled your diaper so much, baby. Well done
"The way you blush when I say 'stinky' is so cute. My messy little stinky one."
"You know I heard the crinkle and the little grunt, right? Mommy always knows right. Even when you try to hide your pushies
"You make such a cute face when you go potty in your diaper. We really should record it next time."
Image credit - Various Dommy Mommies including Mommy Jaylen, Mommy Kat Marie, Adrianna Evans, Mommy Gwen and Mummy Rose…
Reblog If…
Kryptonite
It doesn’t matter who you are. It doesn’t matter what you’ve accomplished.
None of it makes any difference when you’re about to have your diaper changed.
“Gosh, you’re so just so stinking cute, crinklebutt! I cannot get enough of those blushy lil' cheekies when you're looking up at me.”
She’s not wrong. I can feel my cheeks burning with the all-too-familiar shame that defines my new place in life.
Stripped of any pretense of adulthood. Utterly exposed.
There is no dignity in this position.
Yes I would love to have someone put me in a diaper.
Yes I want these.