I know there's a lot of people who no longer want to purchase from little for big who are now looking for alternatives, so I’ve put together a list of shops that might be a better fit. Hope this helps 💖 (if you want me to include a shop just let me know)
Subs, your submission is not weakness. You are not a baby animal giving its weak body to the forest. You are a fairy with a power that brings light to the skies and the trees.
My job as your domme is to protect your power and your strength as long as you trust me with it. When we play, I protect you. I protect the kinky parts of you, the vanilla parts of you, and the parts you don't think I see that I do.
When we play, we combine our powers into a beautiful beacon of light. When we play, you can put your thoughts to rest and fully harness the power of submission and play.
And it would be an honor to be trusted as a witness to such a feat.
Do not let any fake "daddy/mommy dom" push you, shove you. Do not let anyone who cannot see the power you bring get anywhere close to it. As much as I can protect your power, you are its co-protector. Its power brings smiles to faces and peace to hearts.
Protect yourself and your powers for me, okay, sweetheart?
This caption is for the stinkiest StinkerELLA I’ve ever met, @thepottypantsprincess! I hope you enjoy it, daycare girl!
Ella shrieked as her legs were lifted into the air and cold wipes began to clean the mess from her accident.
Her soiled Lululemon yoga pants and panties were unceremoniously shoved into an airtight bag and carried away.
The exasperated Early Education Intern ignored the fussing girl’s assertions that she was an adult, while deftly holding her legs with one hand and wiping with the other. Carrying on as if it were any other change.
Even if it was far from usual.
She pitied the poor, poopy girl who, from the look of it, was older than her. Probably even a junior or senior.
But here she was, having her butt wiped clean on a changing table in the middle of campus daycare—no different from the thousands of babies before her.
She couldn’t decide what must have been the worst part of all this. It must have been mortifying enough to poop herself in the middle of a quiet exam. Only to pointlessly argue with the professor that she wasn’t the one who had an accident, like an actual toddler.
Maybe it was being led to the daycare of all places by a sympathetic teacher’s assistant in an outfit that did little to hide what she had done.
Maybe it was having a freshman put in charge of her at a daycare, talking down to her like a baby as she stripped her of her messy clothes.
Maybe it was the indignity of having her butt wiped clean on an actual changing table in the middle of a daycare, where practicality, not privacy, is the primary consideration.
Or maybe it was the large pink diaper she’s been staring at from the moment she saw it.
Whatever it was, the intern knew she had a job to do. Whether she was caring for a baby or an upperclassman in college, the process was the same.
After one last wipe, the intern was satisfied that Ella was clean. “There, all clean! That wasn’t so bad, was it, cutie?”
Ella glared at the intern, her anger almost matching her embarrassment. “Do not talk to me like I’m a baby, freshman,” she hissed through clenched teeth.
In any other situation, the death glare she got from Ella would have completely intimidated her.
But it’s hard to be intimidated by someone whose butt you just wiped clean of poopoo.
“I never said you were, silly. Let’s get this diaper on you, okay?”
Ella couldn’t believe what was happening. Twenty minutes ago, she was taking an exam. Now some snot-nosed freshman thinks she’s going to put her in a diaper?
“Absolutely not, you bitch.”
Before the intern could answer, her supervisor stepped in, placing a hand on the intern’s shoulder.
“Language, dear. Daycare policy requires diapering after every messy accident. It’s a health issue. This isn’t a negotiation.”
Ella’s face scrunched in mutinous fury. “Uhh, last I checked I’m not some brat in daycare. The rules don’t apply to me. I’m a student—an adult.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” the supervisor replied calmly, “Look around, dear. This is a daycare. Your messy clothes are safely stored in a biohazard bag. You’re sitting on a changing table. And my intern just wiped your tushie clean. As far as I’m concerned, you fit right in.”
The words hit Ella like a freight train. “Whatever, just give me my clothes back so I can leave.”
“I’m afraid it’s too late for that. You’ll be put into a diaper and stay here with us until your parents check you out.”
“Y-you…called m-my parents?” Ella gasped.
“Of course, dear. Campus policy. In a fortuitous turn of events, your parents happened to be here for Parents’ Weekend. They insisted we keep you here until they arrived.”
Whatever fight Ella had left drained away. This was an unmitigated disaster. Her only hope was that she’d wake up from this nightmare.
Ella flopped back on the changing table, overwhelmed by the ramifications of the last hour.
How could she possibly step foot in class again after that? And by now, the gossip of her accident must have spread like wildfire throughout campus.
Everyone—her friends, her professors, her crushes—will know that Ella pooped herself like some pathetic baby.
Even her parents know.
Taking advantage of Ella’s sudden calmness, the intern grabbed the thick, pink diaper and got to work. As she fluffed the diaper, she marveled at its size—the diaper was significantly thicker than the regular Pampers she used to.
She couldn’t imagine having to wear something so…infantile.
Ella didn’t even fight as the intern lifted her legs and slid the diaper under her and sprinkled baby powder everywhere, watching it happen as if it were some distant dream.
It was only after the diaper was pulled up and taped securely into place that Ella snapped back to reality—the thick diaper forcing her legs apart, crinkling ridiculously as she moved.
Ella was wearing a diaper. A diaper that a freshman changed her into...on a changing table...in a daycare. Ugh.
“Great job, Maggie,” the supervisor said, inspecting Ella’s diaper. “Perfect fit; snug enough not to leak, but not too tight to chafe. Not bad for your first try.”
The intern beamed with pride. “Thanks, Ms. Jones. It’s really no different from a normal diaper, aside from the extra tabs. I didn’t expect them to be so thick, though.”
“Well, her accidents are proportionately much bigger. But if you think they’re thick now, wait until she needs a change.”
Ella couldn’t believe they were talking about her diapers so casually in front of her—as if she were any of the dumb babies who couldn’t understand them.
“Well, I seriously doubt she’ll have another accident.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” the supervisor said skeptically.
It was too much for Ella. “It was one accident. I don’t need diapers, you know.”
The supervisor just smiled.
“What time did her parents say they were coming?” the intern asked to break the awkward silence.
“They should be here in half an hour. It’s a slow day, so why don’t you do some arts and crafts with our new friend here? According to her file, she’s an art major.”
“How about we skip it and I’ll just hang out with my phone,” Ella said dismissively, wanting to get ahead of the gossip.
“Sorry, sweetie, but phones stay in your cubby until your checked out.”
“I’M NOT IN DAYCARE! GIVE ME MY PHONE!!” Ella screamed, jumping off the table. She only made it two steps before stopping dead in her tracks.
Her cheeks blushed violently as she realized how ridiculous she must look. Waddling in a thick, uncovered diaper crinkling wildly with each step.
They probably think she belongs here.
The intern failed to stifle a giggle at Ella’s tantrum. At the college age student looking and acting like an actual toddler.
Not even the usually quick-witted Ella could muster any defense to the freshman laughing at her.
“The phone stays with us, dear,” the supervisor emphasized. “You’re free to entertain yourself with any toy that catches your fancy here. But you’ll do so like any other little one. Understand?”
Ella recognized there was no escape, no way out of the situation. Nothing but dig herself in a deeper hole.
She needed a different strategy.
“I-I’ll do arts and crafts, i-if it’s okay…” Ella conceded. “B-but may I please have pants?”
“Of course, little one, arts and crafts is Ms. Maggie’s favorite activity! I’m sure she’d love to color with you.”
The intern nodded enthusiastically. “That’s right! We can paint or draw whatever you want! Let’s go over to the crafts table, honey.”
Ella did not like the sudden baby talk any more than the way both of them were ignoring the fact that she was standing there in a shirt and a fully exposed diaper.
She resists grabbing the interns outstretched hand.
“I look like a baby! I’m 24! I can’t walk around like this!?”
“Don’t worry about that, silly. Nobody here will judge you for your diaper, I promise. I bet you’ll forget all about that when we’re coloring.”
Why was everyone acting like she was some brat who belonged in daycare?
She hated that stupid, expectant grin from the freshman. It somehow made her feel even more childish than her diaper.
“Whatever,” Ella surrendered, grabbing the interns hand.
Ten minutes later, Ella sat hunched over the tiny table made for much smaller kids, searching for the perfect shade of green.
As annoying as it was having someone hovering over her, gushing about her pretty her picture was, Ella appreciated the distraction anyway.
Art was her happy place.
Her focus was yanked from her drawing when she felt her shirt lifted and the waistband of her diaper pulled back.
“Hey! What are you doing?”
“Sorry, cutie, didn’t mean to startle you! Just checking for any more stinkies! Don’t worry, all clean!”
“I told you it was o—!”
Before she could finish the intern slid her hand and squeezed the front of her diaper.
“Stop that!”
“Sweetie, why didn’t you tell me you needed to use the potty, hmm?”
Ella spun around in confusion. “What do you mean? I didn’t have to go.”
“Your diaper is soggy, honey…”
Ella’s hand darted to her diaper. She wouldn’t—couldn’t—believe she actually peed herself.
“W-why does it feel like this?”
The intern gave Ella a pitiful, sympathetic look and rubbed her shoulder. “That’s what happens when you tinkle your diaper.”
She peed herself too?!
“B-but…I didn’t…I n-never even…” she mumbled, standing up to better check her diaper.
Ella never saw her parents walk into the gated daycare area, deep in conversation with the supervisor.
The intern quickly whispered something into her supervisor’s ear.
“You’re certain?” she replied quietly.
“Positive.”
“I’m afraid this only reinforces my belief, Mr. and Mrs. Smith. Maggie here just checked her diaper and found she wet herself without knowing.”
“Ella! You wet your diaper too?” Ella’s mom gasped in disbelief.
Ella finally realized she wasn’t alone—turning around to find her parents looking at her like she was a naughty child again.
“I-I-…it was an accident!”
The supervisor turned to the intern. “Why don’t you help Ella here finish her coloring while we talk about her future.”
“My future? What are you—.”
“Hush, Ella,” her mother commanded, “Do as you’re told.”
Ella meekly sat back down, her diaper squishing as she did.
“As I was saying,” the supervisor continued, “This isn’t the first time I’ve seen something like this. Most young adults learn to manage the responsibility of independent living with little trouble. Maybe some irresponsible binge drinking or impulsive decisions, but nothing we haven’t all done in college.”
She paused for a moment.
“But on rare occasions, and I believe this is one of them, the burden of independence proves too much for a young adult. Their brain subconsciously yearns for and regresses to the time of their life when they felt safe, secure, and above all, cared for.”
Ella’s father takes a step back. “Let me get this straight, you’re saying Ella here is…becoming a baby or something?”
“No, no. She’s not going to start babbling and drooling or anything like that if we handle this properly. I believe her actions today prove she’s not ready for adulthood quite yet. Forcing her to continue her classes would only aggravate the problem.”
“I’m not crazy! I don’t want to drop out! It was one accident!” Ella screamed.
The intern shushed Ella as she pulled her into a light hug.
“Ella is right,” the supervisor agreed, “She isn’t crazy. All she needs is some time in an environment that provides stability, support, and significantly fewer responsibilities. After a few semesters of encouragement and healthy steps towards independence at our daycare, she will be ready to resume her studies without any lasting problems.”
“In daycare, though? She’s 24, not 4! How would that possibly help Ella?” Her mother asked.
“Well, as a university daycare, all our employees teach classes here in various fields, whether they be childhood development, medicine, psychology, or education. Even our interns are handpicked. We will provide Ella with everything she needs to get back on track. Not to mention the proper facilities for her diapering needs.”
“Diapers? Surely one accident doesn’t call for diapers,” her father asked.
“Normally I’d agree. Every adult can tell you a story of when they trusted the wrong fart. But I don’t think this is an isolated incident. Maggie mentioned Ella didn’t even realize she peed her diaper. That indicates this isn’t a physical issue, it’s connected to her need for safety and security. Diapers are innately tied with childhood and safety.”
“What do you recommend?” her mother asked.
“Mom! Don’t listen to them, I’m fine!” Ella whined.
“A few semesters at our daycare. No more classes. No more responsibilities. A return to childhood. We will gradually increase her independence, building positive habits that will allow her to succeed in adulthood when she’s ready.”
“We live a few hours away, I don’t see how that would work.”
“Ella would stay with us. We would arrange for her to live with a caregiver from our program. That way we can maintain the positive structure consistently. And of course, you’d be free to take her for vacations and holidays.”
Ella could hardly believe what she was hearing.
“I’d love to volunteer, Ms. Jones! My major is Early Childhood Development with a minor in psychology. I’ve proven myself here over two semesters. And, with her parents blessing, I’d be able to use my time with Ella for research, maybe even publish our findings in a journal.”
The supervisor nodded pensively. “Maggie here is my best student. Your daughter would be in extremely capable hands. I'd trust her with my own children. Though the choice is ultimately yours.”
“This isn’t a decision to make lightly,” Ella’s mother said, “Would it be possible to have Maggie spend the day with us while we get to know her?”
Ella couldn’t take it anymore. No way her mom was seriously considering this! And to have some freshman be her caregiver?
She stood up to argue but the moment she did, she felt a spasm in her bladder. Her diaper slowly warmed as pee spreads through her diaper.
Her tinkle doesn’t go unnoticed.
“Maybe Ella really does need those diapers,” her mother conceded.
“Don’t worry, Mrs. Smith, they’ll never leak on my watch. And I can give you a no rash guarantee.”
Ella’s mother laughs.
“Well, if you’re up to it, why don’t we spend the day getting to know each other? If you’re going to care for my little Ella, I’d feel much better knowing you’re everything Ms. Jones says you are!”
“I’d love to! Let me pack Ella a diaper bag with all the supplies. She’s filling that diaper up quick, I’ll make sure to pack some extra.”
She winks at Ella, who rolls her eyes.
By the time Ella left daycare with her parents—and stupid Maggie following her like a shadow—her diaper was so swollen she could barely walk.
The shorts her parents brought her clearly weren’t meant for covering a diaper. But by now she figured word of her accident had spread so far nobody would be surprised to see a diaper bulging under her shorts.
Not that it made it any less mortifying.
Her bigger concern was the next few semesters of daycare. Every adult seemed convinced she needed over a year of diapers, arts and crafts, and constant, infantilizing supervision.
How would she explain being walked around by some freshman checking her diaper?
“C’mon, lil’ stinker, let’s go get some numnums in your belly!” Maggie cooed as she took her hand.
Her parents smiled at their sweet little daughter doing her best to keep up with the adults as she waddled.
Ella pretended she didn’t see the group of girls pointing and laughing at her as she walked by.
Pretended this was all a bad dream she’d wake up from in the morning.
I want to be dragged out of the house in the most little coded outfit ever, but still normal enough that others wouldn't bat an eye. I wanna be diapered so thickly under a skirtall that it barely is covered. I want to be told quietly, "if you keep pulling your skirt down, it will only draw more attention, so stop trying to hide your diaper, youre fine, trust me." But as my diaper gets wetter, the more it sags and the more i tug my skirtall down to make sure it's covered. And when it is too wet to hide, that's when its time to be marched back to the car to head home, waddling quickly hoping no one pays attention to me. getting into the car and a you buckle me in you squeeze the front of my diaper and tease me, "you've been so worried about pulling the back down, but didn't even notice your diaper peeking out in the front all day."
Y'all, today has been an amazing achievement in diapers. I wore a wore a megamax airlock for 5 hours, and *I didn't leak*.
You see what happened? As it always does, the sides curled up. Begging wetness to seep out. But the fancy Japanese diaper cover held the line! I drank all the soda i wanted and my chair stayed dry!
This is huge: the same thing enabled me to wear safely at work yesterday). I did a sloppy tape job in a stall, and it saved me when I felt like I was leaking. It even smooths out bulges when I wear pants (though the little bows do get a little awkward, so I wore a skirt).
Disclaimer: All of this was an experiment for science because, of course, I don't need diapers. The print is childish because that's just what I happened to find, not because I'm a baby!
Diapers should always be pulled up past the navel. If your diapers arnt poking out the back or front of your pants you are wearing them wrong and you’ll probably leak. Plus it shows everyone how responsible you are for keeping your pants dry. 😘
