Make Your Mother Sigh

35F. Just a porny ABDL sideblog. 18+

[mellowsadistic]

Mummy's Girl - Part 3

Mrs Jones was browsing for plastic pants on the computer when her mobile rang. She smiled widely at the sight of her daughter’s caller ID. Right on time.

“What is it, sweetie?” she said, answering the phone. “Is your little date over already?”

“Mama!” Kimmy sobbed. “I… I… I pooped!”

“You pooped, baby?” Mrs Jones asked, pretending to be confused. “In the potty? You know you’re not allowed t-”

“No-oooo….” Kimmy hiccupped tearfully. “In… In my pants!”

“What do you mean, Kimmy?” asked Mrs Jones, letting a slight edge creep into her voice. “I think I must be misunderstanding you. It sounds like you’re telling me you pooped your pants by accident, but I know that can’t be right. After all, we left messy accidents behind a very long time ago.”

“I’m sorry, Mama!” Kimmy bawled. She dissolved into incoherent sobbing for a little while, before taking a deep, shaky breath and saying in a sniffly voice, “Please, Mama… Please can you come and pick me up? It’s so yucky and stinky!”

“Alright, baby,” said Mrs Jones, a little more softly. “I’ll come and get you. Hold tight, okay? Mama’s on her way.”

“Okay, Mama…”

Mrs Jones felt giddy as she got to her feet and started gathering her coat and car keys, and the supplies she’d need for Kimmy. She should have done this weeks ago! Years! She should never have stopped doing it in the first place! She’d thought making her daughter spend her teenage years as a pull-ups-wearing pantswetter would be enough to ensure she never got too big for her britches. But the moment she’d gone off to college, she’d started drinking and staying out late and who knew what else! And now she thought she was ready for boys?! Clearly she’d been wrong to wean her little girl off her special medicine all those years ago…

Mrs Jones glanced up at the kitchen cupboard as she packed baby powder, wipes, and a fresh nappy into a diaper bag. It was good to know her recipe still worked. With the right combination of drugs mixed in with the high-fibre oatmeal, she had the perfect means of making Kimmy mess herself. By adjusting the ingredients ever so slightly, she could control almost exactly how long it would take until her daughter needed to poop, and also how difficult it would be to hold once she did. She’d used it in the past to ensure Kimmy had accidents at just the right time to stop her getting too full of herself, and today she’d timed it so that her daughter would have a massive, uncontrollable bowel movement roughly half an hour into her date.

Once she had everything she needed, she hurried out to the car and started to make the short drive into town. It wasn’t long until she spotted Kimmy standing on the pavement a little distance away from the restaurant where she’d had her date, teary-eyed and tugging fruitlessly on the hem of her skirt to try and make it cover up the sagging seat of her massive, heavily loaded Pampers.

“Oh Kimmy…” Mrs Jones said, in a deeply disappointed tone, once she’d parked up on the side of the road and got out of the car.

Her daughter stared at her feet and sobbed. Her face was streaked with tears, and her nose was running. She looked like an absolute mess.

Mrs Jones gave a long-suffering sigh, even as she thrilled inwardly, and said, “Okay baby, let Mama check the damage.” Kimmy let out a feeble squeal of protest as her skirt was lifted up, but Mrs Jones ignored her. She cupped her daughter’s heavy nappy with her hand, feeling the warm wetness within. “Full to the brim with pee-pee,” she said, “but that’s not the issue. Turn around, Kimmy.”

A few people on the street were pointing and laughing now. Slowly, awkwardly, trying not to squish the horrible load in her pants, Kimmy turned around. Mrs Jones hooked a finger into the waistband of her diaper and pulled it out. “Yuuech!” she said loudly, drawing even more eyes in their direction. “Kimmy Jones! I’ve never seen such a messy nappy!” She spun her daughter back round to face her. She was still crying, and she looked as though she might faint with shame. But that was all for the better – it was important that this became a formative moment for Kimmy moving forwards. Her first genuine messy accident as an adult, and a highly public one too.

“Come along, darling,” said Mrs Jones. “I need to change you before we head home. I don’t want that smelly thing in the car too long if I can help it. Lie down on the backseat. Be a good girl.” After laying down a plastic changing mat to protect the seats, she guided her daughter onto it. Once Kimmy was in position, she ripped open the tapes on one side of her diaper, then the other, and pulled down the front. “Pee-yew! What a stinky bottom!”

Kimmy wailed and covered her face with her hands as Mrs Jones lifted her legs into the air, putting her mucky bum on display. But Mrs Jones herself was unable to keep the grin off her face. She’d missed this so much! Helping her daughter out of wet training pants was one thing, but changing a messy nappy was on a different level. It made her feel so Mummyish. She was able to get her fix from time to time when Kimmy misbehaved enough for diaper discipline, but she couldn’t wait for this to become a normal part of their daily routine again. It was for Kimmy’s own good too, of course. She wouldn’t be getting too big for her britches as long as she was pooping in them. She’d be happily dependent on her Mama, safe from the nasty grown-up world.

“Honestly Kimmy, what am I going to do with you?” she asked, as she slid the loaded Pamper out from under her daughter’s bottom and rolled it up. “I never thought I’d still be changing your nappies at this age, let alone such a messy one!”

“But… But you said I had to, Mama…” Kimmy whimpered. “You said-”

“The problem isn’t that you made a messy diaper, young lady,” Mrs Jones cut in sternly, getting to work cleaning her daughter’s mucky bottom with baby wipes. “If you’d done uh-ohs because you were guilty about your naughtiness last night and wanted to properly punish yourself by making a stinky on your date, Mama would have been very impressed. The problem is that you couldn’t control yourself. You’re far too old to still be having poopy accidents, Kimmy! What on Earth did your date have to say about this?”

Kimmy burst into fresh tears, no doubt remembering the moment she’d realised what was about to happen in her pants and made a rush for the toilets, only to freeze two steps from her table, double over, and pack her Pampers with an enormous load of poo-poo.

“Why didn’t you use your nappy before you left, silly girl?” Mrs Jones continued. “It was bad enough that you were making such slow progress with your potty training, but now you’re going backwards! Not even that – you’ve gone all the way back to square one! Why can’t you understand that you’re supposed to hold it, sweetheart? You don’t just go in your pants!” Once Kimmy’s perky little bum was clean, Mrs Jones slid a fresh diaper beneath it and reached for the baby powder. “Just think what would have happened if you weren’t being diaper disciplined right now, little missy!” she said, sprinkling the powder liberally over Kimmy’s nether regions. “There’s no way your training pants could have handled this, and any big girl panties would have been totally ruined! It’s clear you’re not ready to be out of nappies yet, young lady.”

“Noooo!”

“Yes, Kimmy. You can have your pull-ups back when you’ve proved to me this was just a one-off. But I’m afraid to say it looks like your old habit’s coming back, sweetie.”

“It can’t come back!” Kimmy wailed. “Not now!”

Mrs Jones pulled the clean diaper up between Kimmy’s legs and taped it on, sealing her pussy behind a thick layer of absorbent padding. Her little girl wouldn’t be messing around with boys while these were in the way! Picking up the rolled-up, thoroughly used nappy, she straightened up and turned around, noting with satisfaction that a small crowd that gathered nearby, craning their necks to get a look at the grown woman getting a nappy change in the back of a car. Pinching her nose and holding the huge, stinky Pamper out in front of her, Mrs Jones marched over to the nearest bin and dumped the diaper into it with a heavy thump.

Then she returned to the car and leaned in to kiss her daughter on the forehead and do up her seatbelt. “Alright, precious girl,” she cooed. “You’re all clean and dry for Mama now. Let’s go you home, baby.” She paused for a moment, then said, “What do you say, Kimmy? Remember your manners.”

“Thank you, Mama…” Kimmy whispered.

“Good girl,” Mrs Jones said gently, running her fingers through one of her daughter’s pigtails. She really was too pretty for her own good. If it wasn’t for her potty problems, she was sure to have turned into a vain and superficial young woman. But as it was, she was sweet-tempered and humble. “I’m sorry about your date, princess,” said Mrs Jones. “But there’ll be plenty of time for boys when you’re older. For now, just remember that Mama loves you, no matter how stinky your nappies are.”

Kimmy’s trembling lips twisted into something that was almost a smile. Mrs Jones planted another kiss on her forehead, then got into the front seat of the car to drive her precious cargo home, where she belonged.

The End

[prettyprettypaci3]

Getting drunk and admitting to your housemates that you like to wear diapers. Your biggest fear was that they'd be disgusted and try to kick you out. But if anything, they all seem a little too interested. They grill you for details and force you to show them your secret diaper stash. Within a few hours, they've drawn up a housemate contract which you're forced to agree to.

1 - Immediately upon getting home, you must find a housemate to diaper you. You are not allowed to be in the house undiapered and are not allowed to remove diapers yourself.

2 - Your diaper stash, diaper pail, and changing pad are now stored openly in the common area. Every housemate has the absolute right to check you and bring you there for a change at any time, no matter who else may be present.

3 - The door will be removed from your bedroom. If you plan to hump in your diapers, you must message the house's group chat and request permission. All housemates must unanimously agree that you've earned the privilege, and at least one housemate must be present and observing you while you hump your pampers.

4 - Failure to observe any of the above rules and restrictions will result in a further loss of autonomy, including but not limited to: requirements to use a baby bottle instead of a glass, to wear bonnets and bibs, to nurse a pacifier, to access only G-rated media and games and/or to speak only in baby babble.

[nanny-nova]

Morning Love // Morning, Love

AO3 LINK ♡

It was always hard to wake up, especially when you were put in the shared nursery instead of your private one. Something about hearing the content, pacified mumbles of your siblings around you was infinitely more comfortable than any lullaby or recording that Nanny could play for you. It was as if hearing them so happy made you know that you were safe, and that it would all be okay until Nanny came to get you. And that wasn't even considering the fact that there was a lullaby playing softly overhead, plus a weighted blanket swaddled around you, pinning your arms to your side and rendering coherent movement nearly impossible. Nothing was more blissful than knowing that nothing was your problem, and that you didn't even have to move until Nanny wanted you to.

The morning routine was down to a science. With only four littles currently staying with Nanny in the big nursery for overnight visits, it was easy. It meant that it only took about an hour for them to get everyone up and ready to be dressed for playtime, while the rest of their staff working in the early morning made sure that the nursery and the day's activities were ready for said playtime. By the time the overnight littles were ready, the influx of daytime littles would usually be coming in as well, and you would be ready to play with your friends and siblings.

A soft click of the door, followed by the gentle thudding of heels against the soft pastel pink carpet of the nursery, indicated the presence of Nanny. They didn't even need to speak to make it known to anyone awake that they were there. But hearing their actual voice grounding you to this new day was a treat as well. They always made an announcement beforehand so that all the littles had a bit of time to stir before Nanny came to get them. Of course, it wasn't always effective, being in the room was just too soothing.

"Wakey wakey, everyone.. Mrs. Sun is up and ready to see all of your cute little faces, okay?"

You heard them approach one of the cribs near yours, bending over the rails and cooing hello at the person inside it. They received a muffled groan in response, which they answered with more cooing and doting. You tucked your head underneath your pillow, wanting to crave the warm comfort of your crib for as long as possible. In your head, there was no reason for you to be awake before Nanny was ready for you. So you closed your eyes, and enveloped yourself in a peaceful cocoon as Nanny went through their routines with other littles. You were almost off in dreamland again by the time you felt a hand gently rubbing your hip.

"Aww, sleepy baby.. there'll be lots more time to sleep later, don't worry! If you're still tired in a couple hours, we can get you down for an extra long nap instead of just an hour," Nanny told you as they lifted the pillow off your head, making you groan as you were exposed to disgusting, awful light. Granted, the light wasn't all that bright— Nanny never put it more than halfway up the dimmer before everyone was fully awake. But you grumbled and squirmed anyways, now eager to get out of your swaddle so you could cover your eyes again.

"My, my. Someone really doesn't like their wakey time today," Nanny commented, carefully undoing your swaddle and tossing the blanket in a nearby hamper to be washed. That would be someone else's dirty work to do, though. Nanny had plenty of dirty work to do with you, as they returned to your crib. They inhaled through their nose, and it wrinkled. "Is that full diaper making you all comfy cozy in your crib? Is that why you don't want to get up?"

Uh-oh. It's that obvious..

Obvious or not, Nanny wasn't satisfied with just smelling your accident. Fingers delicately toyed with the snaps on your onesie. Button by button, you became more and more exposed to them. You weren't given a choice, or an option for input at all. Nanny just did it. Having every bit of independence stripped away, to the point where you couldn't even wipe your own butt, was lovely in ways that you would never be able to describe to your average person without sounding absolutely nuts. But that was okay, because Nanny's nursery was built to hide fragile little ones from the prying eyes of the average person.

"Let's see the damage.." mused Nanny as they slipped your legs out of the pant legs, holding them up in the air with their non-dominant hand as their dominant landed a firm pat right on your diapered crotch. You let out a sharp breath through your nose as the padding molded against your privates with a characteristic squelching sound. Nanny let out a tiny snicker, and squished it again, making you jerk. You always got extra sensitive when you went more than a few hours without being touched— it was one of Nanny's favorite parts about waking you up in particular. The feeling went from pleasant to humiliating though, as soon as Nanny moved to grab your butt.

The caregiver didn't say anything for a few seconds. Technically, they didn't have to say anything. The squishing and the stench spoke volumes. It was already beyond obvious that you had done a lot in that diaper overnight. However, asking Nanny not to tease one of their babies was like asking a bunny not to hop. And when they were messy? Well, it was like placing an open cookie jar on the counter and expecting a little not to steal at least one cookie from it. It was too easy. Too good of an opportunity to miss out on it.

"Oh my goodness, that's a LOT of stinkies, baby! I knew that stench had to come from somewhere.. I could smell it from across the nursery. I think you win the prize for the biggest stinker this morning! Maybe Nanny will get you a medal for all your hard work, but let's get you out of a crib so I can get a better look at this.." Nanny lowered the side of the crib and rolled you up into a sitting position, ignoring your whine as you sat right on your messy bottom. They rolled up the pant legs and shimmied the pajama set over your head.

"Come on, baby, can you be a little squirmy wormy and get down from this crib?" they coaxed, placing their hands on your shoulders and guiding your body through a shuffling motion that had you sliding off the crib, your feet touching down on the carpeted floor. The pajamas joined your swaddling blanket in the hamper, and you shivered as the cool air of the nursery hit your near naked body. Nanny grabbed your arm in one hand to keep you from wandering, while the other pulled back the waistband of your diaper to fully investigate the crime.

"Wow, honey. That is definitely the biggest poopoo of the morning; I think someone must've had at least a couple of oopsie-poopsies overnight! Are you such a good little stinky baby for Nanny?" They let go of the waistband and went back to groping your backside, this time far more aggressively, quite literally rubbing in what you had done. You started to fuss now, just wanting this to be over with. You might have been fine with the messy diaper when it was nice, warm, and encased in your pajamas and swaddling blanket. But now that it was hanging off your hips as you stood there awkwardly, you wanted nothing more than to be in a clean one. You took a step forward, and Nanny landed a swat on your inner thigh. It wasn't painful, but it was firm, and the message was clear.

We're not done here until Nanny says so.

Luckily for you and your tush, Nanny was willing to let the minor infraction go. After all, it was first thing in the morning, and they had a job to do, getting all of you dressed and ready for the day. You looked over towards the door. Since there were only four of you, you could all fit in the four-seater stroller— your favorite stroller out of the four types that they used here— to the point that sometimes you would beg Nanny to go on a ride in it with you and your friends. You smiled as you saw the other three littles already freshly diapered and strapped into the seats of that very stroller, ready to be wheeled off to their next stop.

"Come on, you yucky little baby," teased Nanny as they tugged you towards the changing table. "I know you'd stay in your poopy diapees forever if you had the chance, but Nanny doesn't want you getting an ouchie from diaper rash. We'll get you in a nice thick diaper for the morning, and then we can all go get dressed together!"

You clambered up on the changing table after Nanny tapped on your hip. You blinked the last of the sleep out of your eyes as Nanny focused on securing straps around your limbs. You weren't allowed to go unrestrained on a changing table anymore— you'd had one too many incidents from being too squirmy and sensitive when Nanny touched you between your legs. So you were strapped down— or rather, your upper half was strapped down, and your legs were in cuffs mounted overhead, keeping them up and out of the way. Once you were safely restrained, Nanny rolled on a pair of latex gloves. Then the caregiver made quick work of untaping your soiled diaper, playfully wafting their hand in front of their nose again.

"I think I might need a clothespin for my nose the next time I change you, sweetie," they commented as they graced your bottom with a wipe. It took four wipes for Nanny to get your bottom clean. Once that was over with, they put the used wipes and gloves inside the diaper, balled it shut, and tossed it into the diaper pail. After that, they ducked under the table to pick out a new diaper for you. Nanny rummaged for several seconds, before letting out a triumphant little hum, and popping back up with a thicker diaper. It was primarily white, but decorated with dark blue stars, and kittens wearing astronaut helmets. Meowstronauts, they were fittingly called. Nanny was quite fond of how they looked on you, so it wasn't an uncommon choice for your morning diaper.

Crinkle crinkle, rustle rustle, went the diaper as Nanny fluffed it out to its full thickness, paying special attention to kneading the crotch area and ensuring everything was broken up in there. You waited patiently. Now that the monstrous overnight diaper was off of you, you could have waited forever for Nanny to get a new one on you. Once Nanny was satisfied with the thickness, they slid the back of it underneath you, fidgeting with the flaps to line them up. They tested the fit by folding the front over your crotch. Giving a nod of approval, they moved onto the next stage of the diaper change.

"We'll get some baby lotion on you this time as well. I think your skin needs some extra protection after that disaster," they laughed as they came back holding two different bottles. One was said baby lotion, the other was the baby powder that they always applied. You clung to the table, chewing on your pacifier as Nanny put several squirts of lotion onto one hand. They held it out to you for a moment. "Doesn't that smell so yummy, angel? I'm sure it's been a minute since you smelled anything besides your own stink!Don't get used to that, though. You're going to pooping yourself for me for a very, very long time."

Can't they just give it a rest now? An impatient whine escaped from behind your pacifier, and Nanny let out a laugh— far more genuine than their previous giggles and snickers as they teased you.

"Okay, okay! I'm not wrong, though. Nanny's never wrong, and they're very proud of what a good job you did last night," Nanny pressed their lotion-covered hand into your nether region, smoothing it gently across everywhere that your diaper would touch. They started with your bottom cheeks, covering them in a nice, even layer of the creamy substance, before moving onto your privates. Scrunching your eyes shut, you tried really hard to not think about the touch too much, lest your brain drown in horniness. As always, your baby parts felt like they were on fire. But Nanny didn't comment on it. Perhaps the first thing they hadn't teased you about today— yet.

"Isn't that just lovely?" Nanny spoke softly as they finished rubbing in the lotion, delivering a light pat to your bottom. "Such a cute little bottom.. I think it's even cuter in padding though, so let's finish up here with your favorite part!"

You watched them pick up the bottle of baby powder, sprinkling a generous amount onto your crotch. If your nose hadn't been flooded with the smell of the lotion, it was definitely flooded with that of the powder. It smelled sweet and sharp at the same time, giving it that characteristic baby smell that made you feel at home. Your eyes closed a little bit as they renewed the process of rubbing the soft substance into your skin. It was so easy to drift off into your own world during diaper changes. There was nothing to worry about— Nanny was here to do the worrying for you. Against your will, a blissful moan rose from your chest and slipped out of your mouth.

"Ohhh, I know! Baby likes their diapee changes, don't they?" You didn't open your eyes as you nodded in response to Nanny's question. The feeling of their hand moved from your crotch to your outer thigh, and the changing table creaked slightly as Nanny leaned down to place a kiss on your forehead. Your eyes opened, and you giggled involuntarily. Nanny patted your thigh before focusing on wrapping the diaper over your most vulnerable area. One tape.. two tapes.. three tapes.. four tapes.. and you were diapered once again. Nanny took several moments to fuss over the fit, sliding their fingers under the leg cuffs to ensure your leak guards were in position.

"Now that's a cute diaper butt!" they accentuated every word with a firm pat to your bottom. "Now, let's get you in the stroller with your siblings, and we can go get you dressed up like a good little dolly. How does that sound?"

It was a rhetorical question. Nanny didn't care one bit for how that sounded to you. They were going to do it anyways, and how humiliating your outfit was depended on how good you were, and how mean Nanny was feeling. Nanny undid the restraints, but instead of walking you over to the stroller like they had the changing table, they scooped you up and cradled you against their chest as they carried you to it. In no time at all, you were seated beside one of your sisters, Ashley, with your body strapped in with a five-point harness. Now that you were all there, Nanny propped the door open and wheeled the stroller out into the main hallway.

The reason the four-seater stroller was your favorite wasn't just because of the unimaginably plush, cozy seats and secure straps that bound you to it. That was a feature of all the strollers. This one was actually quite wagon-like, with four short walls rising up around the seats. But instead of having the typical wagon handle for pulling and anchoring, it actually did have the same handlebar that most strollers did. And the walls were net, which pretty made made the stroller a bassinet with seats and wheels— and an overtop canopy that could be removed as needed. The seats could also be adjusted any which way to be facing forward as if they were riding in the coziest and slowest roller coaster ever, inward as if the four inhabitants were having a tea party without a table, backwards to face Nanny as they pushed you, or outward and back-to-back as if you were at a parade.

The latter was the function Nanny chose today, so you and your friends, as you always did, pretended you were at a parade. You occupied yourself with giggling and waving at the pictures on the walls as if they were the audience and people around you, even blowing kisses to the crowd. You weren't shy about covering up your exposed nipples or your fresh diaper, unlike Ashley beside you, who was whining and trying to use her stuffed chicken to hide both at the same time. You felt sorry for her; she had only started coming to the nursery a couple weeks ago, so she was still new and clinging onto her last bits of dignity. On the other end of the spectrum, it hadn't even occurred to you that it might be embarrassing to be exposed to everyone around you.

Not that anybody you didn't know would be looking at you. The nursery was private property and had very strict security, with a thorough vetting process for anyone entering, and if necessary, lockdown spaces to hide littles in if there were to be intrusions. Nanny had also turned down various journalists trying to get a look at the "littles" that people whispered about when they glimpsed the building on a walk or drive by. Littles weren't a juicy neighborhood gossip subject, Nanny always emphasized upon the intake of a new little, and the privacy and safety of them were the top priorities in their nursery. So the only people that really got to see you like this were Nanny, their trusted staff, and of course, other little ones.

Clearly, Ashley hadn't reconciled with that like you had.

She continued to fuss as you all continued your field trip down the hallway. On the way, you passed the pool room, where littles would be dressed up in swim diapers, water wings, and sometimes flippers, and enjoy a few hours at the pool. Right across from the pool room was the play-park, the dream world of any little, full of colorful tunnels, twisty slides, and even a ball pit, just to list a few. That room was usually reserved for littles who did something exceptionally good that day, since it was a bit chaotic to have every little in there at once. Next down the main hallway was the bathroom— and no, there wasn't any toilets in it, it was just for bath time. And across from it was the crafts room, where all the spare coloring books were stored, and full of all the art supplies you would ever need for a project. It even had a few musical instruments for littles wanting to make some tunes.

After that, the hallway split off into three segments. The one on the right led to reception, where littles could get checked in for their stay. The one going straight went to the main play area, which was usually their fourth stop of the day— though sometimes Nanny would shake it up. But Nanny took the left segment, and wheeled the littles only a bit further. The firsts rooms in this section were the cafeteria, the third stop, and your second stop, the dressing room. They were right across from each other, and not far from the bathroom either in case you made a mess while eating and needed to be redressed or bathed. The dressing room was on the left, and Nanny wheeled the stroller to a stop, putting down a brake to ensure it didn't move while they propped open the door to the dressing room.

Sometimes you wondered why the dressing room was so far from the nap room, and when you were fairly new to the nursery, you had asked Nanny about it. Nanny had giggled and told you that you would figure it out eventually. And indeed, you did. As time passed and you found yourself taking that same trip more and more often, you realized it. The stroller ride was only a couple minutes long, but in either direction, it gave you a rare chance to just.. exist. The atmosphere of the nursery was busy enough that most of the time, you didn't really have a chance to just sit there. You were always playing, or eating, or napping, or one of the various other activities the nursery offered. But here? You could think as deeply as you wanted, or you could just melt into the comfort of the stroller and turn your mind off. And if you needed to think, it gave you a chance to do so before your nap so you didn't keep yourself awake.

It was those sorts of small things that made the nursery what it was. Everything had thought put into it, from things as unremarkable as the positioning of the rooms, to the schedule and routines curated for every individual little. You had no idea how Nanny and their staff did it. But they did, and you savored it. Nanny emerged from the dressing room with a bright smile, lifting up the brake and pulling the stroller into the room by the front. Ashley started to squirm more, making muffled squeaks through her pacifier as she eagerly awaited the opportunity to be dressed. One of her elbows bumped into your shoulder, and you let out an annoyed yelp.

Finally, Nanny's sharp eyes raked over your squirming sister, who had wrapped her arms over her breasts as best she could, while clutching her stuffed chicken between her thighs— though it didn't do a lot to hide the bulging diaper between her legs. But even the attempt was considered an infraction to Nanny, who approached the seat, their lips curving into a devious, almost sadistic smile as they got to get in their second lick of the day. They placed their hands on your Ashley's knees, subtly forcing her legs open as they leaned down to be nose-to-nose with her.

"Uh-oh! Is baby girl a little embarrassed that everyone can see her pretty titties and her thick diaper? Honey, it's okay, they're very used to being exposed for anyone to see. They've been in diapers forever and ever, just like you're going to be!"

Ashley shriveled on the spot, whining as she pressed further back into her seat to try and give herself a little space. But it just made it easier for Nanny to pin her down when she was at her absolute smallest. Their hands ripped her arms away from her breasts, lifting them up and cuffing them into the optional hand restraints on either side of the little's head. After that, they grabbed the stuffed chicken and playfully bounced it on her thigh as they delivered their next barrage of teasing.

"Someone doesn't seem to quite realize that they're not allowed to cover up in Nanny's nursery yet. We'll have to make sure you understand that you don't get those privileges anymore," they crooned, letting their breasts get in her face as they pressed down into her. "You're too little for privacy, sweetie. That's why you don't get things like bras or panties either. Those are for big girls who do big girl things; and that's not you anymore."

Your sister whined, but this time it wasn't just pure distress. It was a feeling that you were all too familiar with— she was turned on, and everybody here knew it. Nanny advanced even further on the young girl, their grin verging on predatory at this point. You hated being on the receiving end of this devilish side of Nanny, but there was something.. fun.. about seeing them use it on someone else. They grabbed a hold of Ashley's own breasts, gently caressing their thumbs over her nipples until they visibly hardened under their touch. "These belong to Nanny now, sweetie. That means that I can do as I please with them. I can touch them and show them off as much as I'd like. It's not your decision, and you're too little to take matters into your own hands."

Nanny only made it worse by moving their hand down to her diaper. It was too thick to get the sensation that Ashley seemed to be craving now. But that didn't prevent Nanny from groping her princess parts through the fluffy padding. "And this especially is Nanny's to take care of now. You're much, much too little for that type of big girl fun anymore. Nothing beneath this diaper is worth using in that manner when it belongs to such an immature little girl. But if you're extra good today, even without your clothing privileges this morning, I'll make sure you get some more age appropriate fun in your diapers."

Ouch. Not being able to wear clothes for the entire morning wouldn't be fun for the poor girl, but it was a punishment that fit the crime perfectly, without being too intense for the girl who was still so new to this lifestyle. She gave a defeated mewl against her Nanny's breast, and they drew back, but not without giving her padding one more quick squeeze to make her even more worked up. "That's it, sweetheart. Sit pretty and be a good girl. And don't you try to cover up anymore, or Nanny will make sure everyone sees how pretty your bottom is when it's all nice and sore from my paddle."

Ashley may have been new, but she seemed to understand when she shouldn't push anymore. She just slumped back in her seat, knowing there was no longer a reason to look forward to being in this room. Nanny then looked at you, bending down and undoing your harness. "Let Nanny see that shoulder, baby. Let's make sure your sister didn't give you a booboo when she elbowed you like that."

"She didn't meanta," you replied as they lifted you out of the stroller and placed you on your feet.

"Oh, I know," Nanny replied, caressing one hand over your shoulder as they examined it closely. "Accidents happen, but it's always best to be cautious, especially when it comes to the wellbeing of my babies. But it doesn't look like you have any ouchies, so you're ready to be dressed! Can you show Nanny what a good little helper you can be, and go pick out a new paci and clip for me? Do you remember where you can find those?"

You did. There was a filing cabinet with four drawers in the corner of the room, where Nanny kept all of the spare pacifiers, soothers, and similar accessories when they weren't in use. The top two drawers of the filing cabinet were full of pacifiers. You rummaged through them, eager to make a good choice. You didn't always get to choose your own pacifier, so you wanted to make the best of this chance; and you already knew which one you wanted. You dug through until you found a cat-themed pacifier. It had two "ears" protruding from the light purple shield and a white pawprint symbol on the button. Perfect to match your diaper. Now you just needed a clip.

Ducking down to the third drawer, which was split into three sections with a divider, you rummaged through the middle section, containing all the regular paci clips. You didn't find anything that stood out to you, so you just found a different one in the right section— the one that had all the nursery's custom-made paci clips with all of your names on them. Finding the one with your name on it, you also grabbed a star charm from the left section, before closing the drawer. You considered checking the fourth drawer for a teething toy as well, but decided to leave it, just in case you got in trouble for sticking your hands somewhere you weren't given explicit permission to stick them. That was a big no-no in Nanny's nursery.

Toddling over to Nanny, your thick diaper pushing your thighs apart, you presented your choices to them. Nanny examined them, gave an approving nod, and attached the clip and charm to your pacifier. "Good job! Now, let's find a cute little outfit to match your choices."

You knew you wouldn't be given much input on this part, so you put your hands behind your back and politely followed them as they rustled through a roller bar holding about thirty onesies in your size. Eventually, you heard a little "aha!" followed by Nanny turning and facing you with a hanger in hand. While you had kept up more with the cat theme, Nanny had chosen to build on the space theme, with a dark blue onesie dotted with pink shooting stars, yellow crescent moons, and a big silver rocket embroidered right on the chest. "How does this look?"

Another rhetorical question, you knew you couldn't actually say no unless you wanted a sore bottom and a far more humiliating outfit— if you got one at all. Luckily though, you actually liked this one quite a lot. Bouncing on the balls of your heels, you squeaked and made grabby hands at the onesie. Nanny beamed and waved the onesie. "Oh, is this what you want? Nanny's little kitty going to the stars? Whose the cutest little astronaut? Is it you?"

You giggled, and made the grabby hands motion again, knowing that it melted Nanny's heart like few other things could. Nanny practically ripped the onesie off the hanger, putting it back on the rack. You held your arms up as they rolled it over your head, slipping your arms through the long sleeves. Afterwards, you started to squirm as you itched to return to your stroller, but as Nanny did up the snaps on the crotch, they delivered a firm pat to your bottom, causing small clouds of powder to poof out the sides.

"No no, sweetie, I know you want to play, but we're not done here yet. We still have to brush your hair and get something on your feetsies so they don't get cold while you're playing, okay? After that I'll get your siblings dressed, we'll all go eat breakfast, and then we can go play."

Nanny swapped the pacifier currently in your mouth in exchange for the cat one with its accessories, attaching the other end of your pacifier clip to the collar of your onesie. You sighed sadly as Nanny led you to the chair in front of the mirror, gesturing for you to sit down as they retrieved a hairbrush and some product to help keep your hair healthy. You tried hard not to squirm anymore, but you couldn't help your feet and knees from wiggling as you waited for Nanny to be done. Their hands were gentle as they massaged the product into your hair, before giving it a good brush. Thankfully, they didn't style your hair fancy at all, so all you had to worry about was them retrieving a pair of socks. They chose a pair of fleecy dark purple socks, and to your dismay, light pink booties.

"Nanny!" you whined. "No booties!"

You didn't like arguing with Nanny, you knew that could never end well. But when you saw the booties, you lost every ounce of self-control you had. However, the way their eyebrows arched made you immediately regret saying anything. "Yes, booties. I think you have a little too much energy to be on your feet by yourself today. If you feel like arguing, I can help you work out some of that energy with that friend of mine I just used— she's not only good for brushing hair, you know."

You slumped. You should have known the only thing it would get you was a threat. "Sowwee, Nannee.."

Nanny gave you a final stern look, before they rolled up the socks, holding them up by your bare feet for easy access. "In."

You didn't need to be told twice. Your toes slipped into the socks, and they rolled them up over your knees. The booties followed immediately after. Nanny wasn't wasting anymore time, and you supposed that was what you had wanted. But they didn't need to make it so humiliating. It only became worse when you realized Nanny had no intentions of carrying back to the stroller. They lowered you onto the floor, walked over to the stroller, and stood there waiting for you. You crawled after them, not meeting their eyes as they watched your every move. As Nanny picked you up, you were mortified to feel a tear slip down your face. They hadn't deserved your attitude or your impatience.

"Oh, shhh," Nanny cooed as they realized you were crying. "It's okay, honey. Nanny's not mad. Nanny loves you, did you know that? You don't need to be upset, little one.."

"Sowwee," you repeated.

"Do you know how you can make it up to Nanny?" Nanny asked softly. "If you play all nice and happy in your booties until naptime, I might let you out of them in the afternoon and we can go have fun in the playpark. Does that sound nice, honey? I bet it does, but you have to be an extra good baby this morning, and listen to everything Nanny says, starting with letting them feed you without fussing. Do you think you can do that for me?"

Sniffling, you nodded. Nanny sealed the deal by wrapped one of their pinkies around your own. "I pinkie promise, baby."

They held you to their chest for a few more seconds, bouncing you in an attempt to soothe your tears, and rhythmically patting your tush. It made it easy to calm down, as you knew you still had a chance to make Nanny happy today. Your hands tugged at their shirt a little bit, and Nanny laughed as they put you back in your seat, buckling you back in. "You stay right there until Nanny has your siblings ready, okay?"

It took about half an hour for Nanny to finish with the other three littles. Though Ashley wasn't allowed to wear anything that covered her chest or diaper, Nanny still got her in frilly white socks, a cow-print pacifier with a pastel rainbow clip, and put her hair into twin braids. Meanwhile your other two siblings, Nitya and Lola, were dressed in bright orange monarch butterfly-themed dress, and a light blue tropical ocean-themed onesie with lots of colorful fish, respectively. After tucking them back into their seats, Nanny clapped their hands.

"Okay, little ones! It's time to say good morning to your babysitters, let's go get settled in your highchairs and you can have some yummy food!" They pushed the stroller forward as they spoke, right across the hallway into the cafeteria. As opposed to the quiet coziness of the dressing room and the nap room, the cafeteria was loud and rambunctious. Some of the early bird littles were already there, about six total. A few were using their hands to eat their food off their platters, and others were being spoonfed by the babysitters, the term used for Nanny's staff. Two babysitters came over to help the four littles out of the stroller.

"Careful with that one," Nanny said to one of them as they lifted Ashley out of the seat beside yours. They bent down and started unbuckling you as they spoke. "She's been quite fussy this morning, as you can tell by her not being allowed to wear anything except socks today. Best cuff her hands down and just give her some formula, she hasn't earned solid food privileges this morning."

"Gotcha!" replied the babysitter. "I think I can handle anything she throws at me. After all, I can just put some clamps on those cute little boobies if she decides to be grumpy."

You were left alone with Nanny, who smiled at you, squeezing one of your hands as you were freed from the harness. "C'mon, we'll get you in a highchair, and then we can clean your face and get you some formula."

Maintaining their grip on your hand, they pulled your arm over their shoulder, placing their hand under your tush for the umpteenth time that morning, and pulling you up out of the stroller. Without any difficulty, they found a highchair to lock you into. This time, you were restrained. You knew you had earned it by testing Nanny's patience this morning, so you didn't whine or complain anymore. Nanny kissed your forehead and went over to the kitchen area to grab what they needed. While you were waiting, you looked around to see what the other littles were eating. It seemed like waffles were on the menu for the morning. You wondered if Nanny would be getting you those, or just a bottle.

You shouldn't have needed to guess. You knew that Nanny would take any opportunity to further infantilize you. And sure enough, they returned with a tall plastic baby bottle, a pack of wipes, a burp cloth, and a matching bib for your onesie— they had come in a 2-in-1 package sent by one of the companies that Nanny worked closely with. Nanny set down the bottle, cloth, and pack on the platter for a moment while they detached your paci clip, removed your paci, and placed them next to the bottle. After attaching the bib to your neck, they grabbed a wipe and gently cleaned off your face until you were giggling and ducking away from the ticklish touch. Nanny laughed and picked up the bottle, shaking it lightly. "Okay, sweet baby, let's drink up, okay? This'll get your tummy nice and full so you have lots of energy to play with your friends!"

Your mouth opened, and your suckling instincts kicked in as you eagerly accepted the huge nipple into your mouth. There were few feelings better than being bottle-fed in a highchair. One of them was being bottle-fed in Nanny's lap, but there would still be opportunities for that later. You could still appreciate what you were being given now. You could practically feel your tummy filling up. Your eyes drifted shut as you embraced mouthful after mouthful of the sweet, creamy formula. Everything around you had vanished. It was just you, the bottle, and the caregiver holding it, whispering sweet praises to you.

"That's it.." they murmured, stroking your cheek. "My good kiddo.. Nanny loves you so much, you're always so good for your babas.."

After nearly a minute of suckling, you gagged on the nipple, an indicator that you needed a break. Nanny obliged, setting the bottle back on the platter as you gulped in air. In another life, you'd be breathing like this after sucking on something entirely different. But you were too little for that now; Nanny had taken those types of big kid things away from you, and you couldn't be happier about it. Maybe later you'd remember exactly what you had done back then.. but that wouldn't be anytime you were under Nanny's supervision. They knew exactly how to identify when big kid thoughts were coming back. And exactly how to take them away again.

"Oh gosh, honey, look at that! You're just making messes all over the place for Nanny today," Nanny gasped, pointing at your bib, where small but noticeable dribbles of formula had spattered onto it. "I was debating whether or not to get you one, but it's a good thing I did! You messy, messy thing, you can't be trusted without one.."

You opened your mouth and let out a burp in response, making them burst out laughing. "Goodness, that was a big burp for such a little baby! Nanny will make sure to give you a good burping after this."

After about thirty seconds, Nanny picked the bottle back up. "Okay, I think that's enough time with your mouth unoccupied. C'mon, the faster you drink up, the faster we can go to play."

That was a good motivator. Almost too good, because as soon as you started suckling eagerly, you realized you had gone too fast and burst out coughing, tears involuntarily springing to your eyes as formula spattered all over the place. Nanny jumped back to avoid the explosion, their heels skidding on the floor as they struggled to remain on balance in their haste. As soon as the worst of it had landed, they reapproached with the burp cloth and held it to your mouth.

"Oh, honey. You know you can't go too fast, don't you? Such a naughty kiddo.."

Did I blow it already?

For a moment, fear clutched an icy grip on your heart as you imagined all the different punishments that Nanny could and had inflicted on you before. You whimpered into the cloth as it covered your mouth. But Nanny didn't look angry or unimpressed. In fact, they still seemed amused. If you were in trouble, they sure weren't acting like it. They just leaned down and patted your head. A babysitter came over with a small glass bottle of water, which Nanny accepted with a grateful nod, putting the burp cloth down and holding the new bottle to your mouth. You didn't have to be told in words, you were grateful for the change of pace. You loved the formula, but when you choked on it, it really hurt your chest. Thankfully, the water helped soothe your throat, and after a few moments, you were feeling a lot better.

"Wow, good job! Now, let's be more careful this time," they said calmly as they held up the formula. "If I have to tell you to go slow again, you'll get a spanking and you can spend the afternoon playing in the bouncer instead of the playpark. And we don't want that, oh no no no!"

Judging by the impish glint in Nanny's eyes, they actually would be quite happy to spank you to tears and stuff you in the bouncer for a long afternoon. But to you, that idea couldn't be more unappealing— unless they tacked on nothing but salad for dinner, of course. Tenderly this time, you took the nipple in again and sort of just let the formula flow naturally in, squeezing the nipple occasionally with your tongue and teeth to help it out. You made it through the entire bottle without any further issues, and even washed it down with the rest of the water to please Nanny.

"Good job!" Nanny leaned down and patted your crotch through the diaper. "Still dry, but that water and formula should help you use your diaper in no time at all. I don't think I'll need to use any poopy medicine on you today, will I? You're going to do exactly what you did overnight, okay?"

As they freed your hands from the cuffs on the highchair, you immediately covered your eyes in, still feeling shy and sensitive after your coughing fit. Even more so after a little hiccup escaped you, reminding both you and Nanny about what they needed to do next. Lifting the platter off the highchair, Nanny picked you up in one arm as they carried the platter to the kitchen sink to be washed later. Grabbing the pacifier, wipes, and cloth off of it, Nanny headed to a different section of the cafeteria. At first, this spot seemed like change rooms in a clothing store, with thick black curtains hanging over each stall. But this wasn't for changing clothes, not at all. Littles rarely got privacy while having their clothes changed, and the staff had the grown-up facility to change in.

The stalls served three main purposes. The first was breastfeeding for any caregivers that were lactating. The second purpose was bottle-feeding a little on a caregiver's lap. And the third, your case, was having a relatively quiet spot to burp littles. Nanny carried you into one of the stalls and pulled the curtain shut behind them. You were set down on all fours in front of the loveseat as Nanny sat down and draped the burp cloth over their left shoulder. Hauling you up into their lap, they began the process of burping you. They would rub circles on your back for a couple moments, before patting it gently. All while bouncing you on their knee ever so slightly. This motion was so soothing that you could've fallen asleep again. But as you opened your mouth to let out a blissful sigh, a much less dignified BRRRP came out instead.

"Wow, you had a lot of air in there!" Nanny exclaimed. "Sounds like we're almost done here, but can you give me a couple more, baby?"

Nanny spent a few more minutes giving you that motion, and got two more burps out of you, one of which sent up a little bit of spittle as well. After that, they were sure you had nothing left to give them, but they still spent another ten minutes rocking you and patting your back. It was utopian. You weren't even worried about making it to playtime, not even as you heard your friends excitedly leaving the cafeteria. As long as you could be with Nanny, you were happy. At some point, the pacifier had found your mouth, and the bib was gone. You blinked tiredly as Nanny shifted beneath you.

"Okay, sleepyhead. We'll get you down for an early nap today since you still seem so tired, but right now, it's time to go play!"

You almost protested when you heard something about an early nap, but you caught yourself in time. You were treading a fine line already, between fussiness and brattiness. Besides, if Nanny thought you needed a longer nap.. surely you did actually need it. Nanny always knew what was best for you. It was why you loved it here so much, they always knew how to help you best. So despite the fact that an early nap would be boring, and Nanny would definitely make it humiliating, you accepted your fate without protest. Nanny let out an approving hum.

"Now you're getting it, baby!" Their cheek rubbed against your own, like a cat rubbing up against their favorite human. "Let's go join your friends now."

Instead of getting the stroller again, Nanny just carried you down the hallway, back down the way you came from until you arrived at the fork again. This time, you went down the middle segment, which would take you to the biggest and busiest room in the nursery. There were no other side rooms in this hallway, so this was where most of the littles' yearly art projects would be hung. From your position over Nanny's shoulder, you glimpsed the drawing you had made for Valentine's Day, with you surrounded by hearts containing drawings of everyone you loved. Nanny was included in one of the hearts, and they had been delighted when you showed them the picture. Since then, you and your siblings had filled the walls about half of the way down the hall with various drawings, posters, and even writing pieces from the "bigger" littles.

Eventually though, you arrived at the big, tall metal double doors that indicated the entrance to the main play area. Nanny pushed the door open with one hand, and you saw that everyone was already settled in. You didn't know where to start as Nanny set you down on the floor with one final pat to your bottom. Uncertainly, your head swung from side to side. The three swings were occupied.. as were the arts and crafts tables.. that took away two of your typical options. You were suddenly starting to regret getting there late, even though there was literally nothing you could have down about it. You never liked the big egg spinners, they always made you so dizzy. Playing in the mini basketball court was too overwhelming, littles got awfully competitive in there, and after the morning you'd had, you didn't feel like getting into an argument. Just as your shoulders were about to slump, you caught sight of Ashley waving at you eagerly, her exposure seemingly forgotten in her excitement.

"Over here! We're making a pillow fort!" she shouted.

The pillow fort was propped up on two sides using cushions from the MASSIVE play couch that it was situated beside, and two benches that had been pulled over and stacked on top of each other. Clearly one of the babysitters had brought in extra blankets for the littles to continue their game. Relieved that you had an open option, you crawled to join your friends. Nitya was padding out the "walls" of the fort with pillows. They had their tongue poking at the corner of their lips as a childish indicator of concentration that you found adorable. Meanwhile, you could hear Lola rustling around the outside, tucking the edges of the blanket under one of the benches to make sure it stayed, before racing to the other side and stuffing the other edges into the cracks in the couch.

"Lola! No running!" called Nanny as they supervised the littles in their play. Lola's little feet stopped thudding so rapidly as she acknowledged the order.

"Sorry, Nanny," she called back. "But look at our fort!"

"NO!" Ashley yelled. "No peeking before it's done!"

You heard Nanny laughing from a distance. "You heard the boss, Lola. But once it's done, Nanny will check it out and make sure it's fit for my babies."

Nitya bit their lip. "Uh-oh. We have to make this fort really good now."

Ashley rolled her eyes. She might've been new, but when it came to playing with other littles, she had the attitude of someone who had been coming her for years and years. She was good fun, but she was often bossy and had quite the temper. "It's already a good fort! Just keep reinforcing the walls, and make it nice and cozy in there."

Nitya looked at you. "Do you wanna do the walls or do you wanna make it cozy?"

"I'll cozy it up," you replied, grabbing the duvets in the blanket pile first to spread across the floor as an extra layer of cushioning. Not that you needed it with the soft carpet in this part of the play area, but it was always good to be safe. Then, you used the fleece blankets to create a second layer, keeping a couple of them folded to create elevated 'beds.' At some point while doing this, you felt an additional warmth spreading through your diaper, but you only noticed for a moment before you got distracted again. Ashley sat guard at the entrance, making sure nobody tried to snoop. Lola was supposed to be guarding the other entrance, but she poked her head in to see what you and Nitya were doing.

"Do you want extra deco?" she asked you with a mischievous grin.

"From where.." You barely had time to finish the question before Lola dashed away. Shrugging, Then you heard the rumbling, and you and Nitya let out simultaneous groans. You loved Lola, but she was so excessive. Sure enough, she had dragged over an entire toybox for you to decorate with. A few moments later, you heard the sharp voice interrupt your games again.

"Lola." That was Nanny. "What did I say about running, baby?"

Lola's face dropped. She clearly knew that she was in trouble now. And being in trouble with Nanny could never end well. The caregiver walked around the couch to the back of the fort where Lola stood. Then, they shoved the poor girl onto the part of the couch that still had cushions. You lifted up a tiny part of the blanket so you could see what was going on. Lola let out a squeal that sounded like a tea kettle going off as she landed, and it cut off abruptly as Nanny placed their dominant hand on her chest to pin her down. With their other hand, they undid the snaps on her onesie before grabbing a hold of her thick padding.

"That's a soaked diaper for someone who got a change not too long ago," Nanny commented. "But I'm noticing an awfully pale tushy, there's barely any color on it at all! Perhaps that's why Lola didn't listen when Nanny told her no running? She might need a reminder of how naughty girls get treated.."

You held your breath. It didn't even look like Nanny was going to grab an implement. They just ripped the tapes off her diaper and let the front flop out onto the padded surface of the couch. As soon as her crotch was exposed, Nanny let go of Lola's chest and grabbed her ankles instead, pushing them up into the air to give them unfettered access to her bottom. Then, with their non-dominant hand, they started to rain hard blows on it. You watched, frozen, as Nanny turned her tushy pink while lecturing her about obedience, all while the girl whined and thrashed. Once her bottom was a sufficiently deep shade of red, Nanny gave it a rest, their hard blows turning to soft rubbing as they comforted the poor girl and retaped the diaper over her waist. As they scooped her into an embrace, they turned their head and caught your eyes in a knowing look.

"Little one, is there something you need, or are you just watching your sister take her spankies?"

You didn't answer, because the answer was too embarrassing for both you and Lola. Nanny already knew, though. They gave Lola a single bounce in their arms, slipping a couple fingers underneath the soaked padding to examine her princess parts. A smile came over their face, clearly pleased with what they felt down there. Their fingers re-emerged, but this time, they were coated in a sticky fluid that littles often found themselves leaking involuntarily. They held it up so both you and Lola could see it.

"Did you like your spanking, little Lola? That sticky little kitty tells me you did. I think your friend enjoyed seeing your tushy tanning too, they're practically riveted over there!" Nanny smiled at you, and you gulped, letting the blanket fall, and hoping Nanny would let it go. And uncharacteristically, they did. They just called a goodbye to you, and took Lola away for a change and some more thorough care.

Lola didn't return to the fort that morning. By the sounds of it, Nanny had taken her out of the play area for some additional care. So it was just you, Nitya, and Ashley for the next two hours. Naptime was usually at 1:30pm and could last anywhere from one to three hours depending on how well behaved each little was. And until then, your only concern was perfecting the fort. You did end up using some toys from the bin Lola had dragged over, mostly the plushies and a random set of lights that you found in it. Once the walls were done, Nitya had found a spot at the crafts table, and made some pretty rainbow paper chains that they and Ashley lined the outside of the fort with. The two of them also drew some pictures for you to "hang on" (lean against) the walls.

"We'll open it up for guests in the afternoon," Ashley announced as the three of you laid down on the beds. Nitya nodded in agreement, but as you wrapped yourself up in the soft fleece, you found your eyes drooping. Letting your head rest on the pillow, you decided to let yourself get some well-earned shuteye. At least until Ashley and Nitya decided what they wanted to do for the rest of the morning. You weren't sure how long it had been, but nor did you care now. You closed your eyes.

Just a few minutes.. that's all..

"Uh-oh, that's a tired baby!" A gentle hand patted your back through the blankets. You weren't sure what it was, but you always loved the feeling of being rubbed through a blanket. It made you feel so comfortable. And Nanny gave the absolute best blanket rubs. If you hadn't heard their voice, you would have still known it was them.

"Nanny," whimpered Ashley. "Are they okay?"

You opened one eye. You were still in the blanket fort, but you were joined by a fourth. It seems Ashley had finally let Nanny in, and she and Nitya were watching worriedly. Confusion fogged your brain. What were they both so worried about? Nanny, on the other hand, was smiling. It seemed like they knew something that none of you did. You wondered what it was as they bent down and kissed your cheek. "Sleepy, sleepy baby.. you couldn't even wait for naptime, could you? Yes, Ashley, they're fine. They're just very, very little and very, very tired."

Deftly, they unwrapped you from your blanket. You started to fuss as the soft warmth of your cocoon was taken away. Nanny handed the blankets back to Ashley, who sighed in relief as she saw that you were conscious and okay enough to whine and kick as Nanny wrangled you onto your hands and knees. Their fingers crept under your chin and directed your attention to them. "Shhh, little one. Nanny's got you. It's time for your nap, that's why Nanny's here. It looks like you already beat them to the punch, but that's okay. It just proves that you need this."

"No nap," you mumbled, rubbing your eyes with one hand. But it was for show. Few things sounded better than going down for a nap now.

"Yes, nap," replied Nanny in a stern voice— not too stern, though. Just enough for you to know that they were not going to indulge any misbehavior. Fussiness was one thing, something to be expected. Littles couldn't help it when they were fussy, big emotions were too hard for them to handle any other way. However, brattiness and disobedience.. that could be helped. Those were choices that could be made by a little. And those poor choices would be handled appropriately, often ending with the little sobbing as their bottoms were paddled, or their diapers swelled with the contents of an enema. Consequences were necessary for a submissive little one who chose to push back against what their caregivers decided for them.

So Nanny was offering you a choice— one of the few important choices you ever got in the nursery. You could choose to submit now and let Nanny take care of you. Or you could venture into the trap that many fussing littles got themselves into. You thought for a moment. You wouldn't have minded a punishment at that moment.. but you thought you remembered something nice that Nanny had offered you in exchange for obedience. You didn't remember exactly. But that was okay, Nanny did all the remembering— that was their job. All you had to do was trust them; and when they treated you this gently, that was one of the easiest tasks in the world.

Your fingers sank into the plush mat beneath you. That warm fuzz that you knew so well.. it was starting to fill your brain like fog. Bending forward, you nuzzled your cheek into Nanny's hand. Nanny's widening smile made it worth it. You had made a good choice! And now Nanny was going to make that fuzzy feeling even stronger. You heard Nanny saying something in a warm, soft voice. But all you wanted was for Nanny to take you away from this fort, and put you back all snug in your crib. You made your best puppy eyes at the caregiver, who gave a breathy laugh and patted your bottom.

"Come on, crawl out onto the floor, Nanny can't pick you up here. It's just a few little steps, can you do that for Nanny?" That coaxing tone worked wonders for your muscles, as despite the exhaustion dragging at you, you crawled to the outside of the fort. Immediately the bright lights and loud noises that had been muffled by the blankets overwhelmed you, and you sat down and let out a whine. Nanny crawled out behind you, and once they were on their feet, they picked you up, turning your head into their chest so at least one of those problems was solved. Twenty seconds later, Nanny was shouldering open those same doors that you had crawled through earlier, carrying you straight down the hallway until you reached the nap room again.

Now this is more like it, you thought, daring to turn your head away from your caregiver's chest now. It was just you and Nanny right now. Apparently nobody else was going down for a nap this early. You were sat on the changing table, and you heard a couple clicks as Nanny unlocked and unwound the straps keeping your booties on your feet. Slipping them off, they dropped them beside your crib for when you were done your nap. Your socks also came off. Now it was time for one of Nanny's self-admitted favorite tasks— checking your diaper. They started with just rubbing the front of it through your onesie.

"Ooh.. I think I feel a bit of warmth in there! Did someone have some nice little peepee accidents for Nanny?" Undoing the snaps, Nanny revealed your diaper, and spent a bit more time rubbing circles on the crinkly surface. "Oh, that's definitely a little wet. How many accidents do you think you had, baby?"

You held up one finger. Surely you hadn't had more than one. After all, you only remembered the one, and you were pretty sure you had been dry before. But Nanny didn't seem to think so. More aggressively now, they started mushing your diaper against your nether region. The feeling was startling, humiliating, and delicious. You loved the sound of the squishing and crinkling that made you feel like the safest, littlest baby ever. And the warm wetness of the diaper and the contact they made with your special parts emulated made you feel all tingly down there. The taboo mixture of infantile and grown-up feelings made your cheeks heat up.

"Only one?" asked Nanny, and they put one finger to their chin in a pondering motion. "I don't know about that one, baby. I know counting is hard for someone as little as you, but this feels like a lot more than one accident. And if it was just one with all the formula and water you got.. then you would definitely be holding in some peepees or poopoos. I think you know better than to do that, don't you?"

Full-on blushing now, all you could do was nod as Nanny teased you, both physically and verbally. Nanny's eyes were twinkling— they knew exactly what they were doing. At the nursery, grown-up behavior was usually prohibited. But there were exceptions, and sometimes, you were allowed to have tingly fun under Nanny's supervision. As they fondled you in such an intimate manner, you wondered if Nanny was going to let that happen right now. The very thought was enough to send another accident gushing out of you, this one not entirely pee. Nanny's mouth fell open in a silent "oh" as they felt you do your deed, right in the palm of their hand. This one sent your diaper swelling to near full capacity, becoming dangerously squishy as the stream lasted nearly fifteen seconds.

"Ah, so you were holding a little something. Silly baby. Were you waiting for Nanny to check you to do that?" Nanny asked, on high alert for any infractions. But in this case, you hadn't even noticed needing to go until Nanny pointed it out. It seemed like the last of your breakfast had nearly run its course. It wasn't enough to induce a bowel movement after the insanity of last night, but it sure did make you pee.

"But no stinky presents.." they mused, finally pulling your onesie over your head and tossing it into the hamper. You weren't sure whether it was to you or themself, so you just shook your head shamefully.

"Sowwee, Nanny," you mumbled through your pacifier. "Didn't hafta go poopy."

Nanny's pupils dilated a little bit at your apology. A switch had been flipped in their head, it seemed, at you apologizing for not doing something as degrading as pooping yourself for them. Their intentions changed from playful to downright devious, and they started to cuff you down tightly on the changing table. You watched them work, not taking the time they usually did to tease and talk down to you. You could tell that this was just a mundane task now, something they were trying to get through as quickly as possible so that they could get to the fun stuff. They ducked down below the changing table.

"I'll make you another deal, baby," they said in that delightful too-innocent tone that made you stiffen. Sure enough, when they next resurfaced, they were holding an enormous wireless vibrator in their hand. "I'll give you a date with Mrs. Buzzy before I change you and put you down for a nap. I'll let you go until you make stickies for me, and you'll do what you always need to do during stickies, and tell me about how you love your diapers. In exchange for showing Nanny how much you love your diapers, I'll need a big stinky present from you before dinnertime. And if you don't make me a poopy diaper before then, Nanny will have to punish you for taking and not giving back.."

The deal was clearly only needed affirmation from one involved party. Nanny started mulling over the buttons as they decided how strong they wanted the setting. You started to squirm in anticipation, though your movements were inhibited by the cuffs. The most you could do was sort of roll onto your side, but that did nothing to cover your soaked padding from Nanny. You shivered as soon as you heard the buzzing from the wand. It was so loud, even on the lowest setting. Nanny placed their free hand on your thigh to pin you down and keep you exposed, and their other hand drove the head of the vibrator right into your diaper.

Instantly, you stopped struggling. The noise level wasn't just for show, these vibrators were powerful. More powerful than anything you had ever experienced before coming to the nursery— and the fact that you didn't get to experience this very often made sure that you never really got used to the feeling. Not fully, anyways. You were particularly sensitive among littles to begin with, but when you were under the care of Mrs. Buzzy? It caused you to melt into the changing table like an ice cube under the scorching sun. Fingers curling against the edges of the table, you chewed on the nipple of your pacifier in a splitting rhythm. Though you wanted to close your eyes and bask in this moment, you couldn't look away from Nanny. The image of them smiling down at you would forever be burned in your mind, just like every other time Nanny had given you the opportunity to cum in their care.

"That's it.." Somehow over the nose of the vibrator's humming against the crinkly plastic, you heard Nanny's voice perfectly, in that perfectly sweet, condescending tone. "Ohhh, you love your diapees so much, don't you? Does that feel so good? Do you like it when Nanny lets you have playtime with the buzzy wand?"

Yes… Nanny… Your thoughts were jumbled, but those two managed to get through. You arched your back, thrusting your diaper against Mrs. Buzzy over and over in a humping motion. Nanny's laughter only got you more worked up, and you moaned loudly through your pacifier, clinging onto the table for dear life as you tried to fight and enhance the feeling at the same time. The hand on your thigh, at some point, moved to be resting on your bare tummy, rubbing softly as if trying to help you unwind, all while they maneuvered the vibrator up and down with their other.

"Where's your happy spot, little one? Can you show Nanny where it is?"

You nearly screamed as the vibrator skimmed the spot in question— the most sensitive place below your diaper even in a sea of nerves. It was becoming too much for you to handle in a composed manner, you were practically howling like an animal in heat as your climax built. Nanny kept the vibrator against that spot, refusing to let up. The hand on your stomach moved yet again, this time to hold one of your own. And now, despite the feelings being so, so intense, you knew you didn't have to handle them alone. Ever. In fact, you weren't allowed to handle them alone. This is what you got to have— forever.

"C'mon, little one. Show me what a good little baby you are when you play with Mrs. Buzzy. Make cummies for Nanny, baby!"

That was it, that was everything. You held Nanny's hand in a vice grip as you were driven over the edge. It felt like everything exploded all at once. Your mind blanked, your limbs suddenly lost all function except for grinding yourself up into Nanny's wand, riding it through your climax. A new layer of sticky fluid coated your privates inside your padding, just adding to the mess down there. Behind your pacifier, you smiled, knowing that this one would keep you happy and obsequious for at least the next week. Even if it meant you had to mess before dinner, it was worth it. You rubbed yourself against the vibrator for about ten more seconds before Nanny turned it off and put it away as though nothing had happened.

"That's my good little kiddo," said Nanny as they gave your diaper one last rub before opening it up. "Now let's get all those icky stickies off of you and get you down in your crib, where you belong."

At that point, you were spent. You couldn't even find the energy to squirm as Nanny untaped the soaked padding without another word. They paid special attention to getting you clean this time— you didn't even flinch at how cold the wipe was like you usually did. Your caregiver did as they said they would and got every last drop of that yucky big kid fluid off of you.

"Silly baby," they went on, putting the used wipes inside the diaper. "It's really cute that your body keeps making these useless little stickies. But it's nothing like what grown-ups get to do. For you.. it's just a type of accident in your diaper— and that means it's just another mess for Nanny to wipe away from your bottom. Nothing more, nothing less."

A finger lightly brushed over your privates, which still throbbed from your orgasm. Yet all you could find the energy to do was let out a faint, shaky whimper, especially when they leaned forward to get a closer look, and you could feel their hot breath against your core. Their head shook slowly as they pulled away.

"Yeah, those definitely aren't any good for big kid touches. You're not getting out of diapers anytime soon," they announced as if it were a big surprise to either of you. "So let's get you in a fresh one so that we don't have to worry about that anymore. I think we'll get you in something extra thick, I know you sometimes get extra leaky after your cummies."

Bending down, Nanny grabbed a pure white diaper, with an additional booster pad to go inside of it. First, they rustled the diaper to get it fluffed to full thickness, before peeling the film off the booster and lining it inside the diaper. Under your bottom it went, and you swallowed as you felt how thick it was under you. Nanny went for the baby powder next, and you felt appreciative of the cold, fresh powder against your privates, especially when they uncuffed your legs from the table. A giggle escaped you as they delivered a few love taps on your bottom, sending powder snowing down onto the diaper beneath you.

"Oops," laughed Nanny, adding another sprinkle to make sure you were fully protected. Away went the baby powder, and finally, it was diaper time again. It was so poofy and soft as it was pulled over your nethers, and taped around your waist like a perpetual hug. Perpetual until you destroyed it, at least. The next few minutes blurred past you. Nanny helped you into a light pink footed sleeper with white sheep on it, buttoning it up to make sure you wouldn't get cold. Since you had gotten a large bottle of formula this morning, and you didn't sleep well if your tummy was totally full, Nanny decided to save your next meal for after naptime. Even though it would probably make you fussier when you woke up hungry, that was something Nanny could handle easily.

You were deposited back in the crib, finally ready for sleep. Nanny even let you keep the regular pacifier instead of gagging you as you usually did. They knew you were too tired after your orgasm to try anything funny, but just in case, they wrapped you up in a swaddle. Encased in a soft blanket, you knew you were ready to sleep. But Nanny put the nail in the coffin when they covered your eyes with a white sleeping mask, and planted a kiss on your slightly sweaty forehead, while wrapping you up in a hug.

"Have a good nap, sweetheart. I'll see you soon. Nanny loves you so much.."

You barely heard them climb out and close the crib. They were quiet about it, and you were halfway to dreamland already. Despite the morning not being perfect, you knew how lucky you were to be here, and how well you were cared for. Soon enough, you'd be awake and ready to play some more. For now though? You were content to sink into the warm, secure darkness of sleep.

[theneedfulthings]

CAFé CON RON

Throngs of beachgoers lacquered in oil glisten along the beach, bodies bare and unburdened, offered up to the sun’s incessant demand to kiss every inch of their exposed skin.

Salty air mingles with the aroma of fresh Cafecito—dark, sugared, sinful—unspooling from some café, along with coconut-scented tanning oil.

The wind came off the ocean like a benediction, a reprieve from the stifling summer heat, sweeping through the palms. The fronds sway in the wind, as if dancing to the rhythm of the reggaeton playing in the distance.

The heat and the salt and the low insistent beat and the oiled and glistening skin all converged and melted into one thing.

Appetite.

Carnal and sumptuous and everywhere all at once. Thick and dark and sweet as the Cafecito on the wind.

Miami Beach radiated sultry, sexual energy. A playground for the debaucherous.

Which is why I chose it.

Sweat trickled down my face as I finished setting up the green-and-white-striped Cool Cabana and placed a large beach blanket in the shade it provided.

“Alright, honey, let’s get some sunscreen on you so you can play. Those cheeks already look like they’re burning.”

It takes you a second to answer. “Wha--? Oh, yeah, okay..”

Your focus isn’t on me—you’re scanning the beach full of beautiful bikini-clad women tanning in the sun and the handsome, muscular men hoping to get with them.

The men notice you, too. Men have always noticed you. Not that I blame them.

With the breeze rippling through your hair, revealing the yellow floral tankini that accentuates your figure and complements the linen pants beneath it, you’re as beautiful and elegant as ever.

Your linen pants aren’t the only thing your tankini complements, though.

From a distance, your linen pants are opaque enough to render the patterns beneath them indistinct and unrecognizable.

Up close, I can easily spot Griffin the lion, Zack the zebra, Lily the hippo, Alex the monkey, and Johnny the parrot on your Rearz Safari diaper.

“Arms up, eyes closed, princess.”

You whimper when you notice the pink bottle of Banana Boat Baby sunscreen in my hand, but let me rub the sunscreen into your arms, shoulders, back, and face without any fuss.

The moment I stop, you open your eyes. “Can I have a soda, please?”

“Sure, let me just finish with the sunscreen. Thank you for asking, honey.”

“Do you need me to help you with your sunscreen?” you suggested, a bit too eagerly to hide your attempt at distraction.

“You’re a silly girl. What about your little leggies, hmm?”

Blushing wildly, you bite your lip, desperately trying to come up with a way out. “Umm, I..I already did it! Yeah, at home. I just forgot to tell you! So, all good, Daddy!”

By now, your cheeks were blushing shades of red I didn’t have names for. You looked around to make sure nobody heard you say Daddy after practically shouting it.

“Hmmm,” I say sniffing the air, “You’re hiding something. Did you make a boomboom? Is that why you’re acting so silly?”

“N-no!”

“I'd better check. A stinky diapie in this heat is a recipe for rashies.”

I could practically hear the gears turning in your head, knowing that if you argued, it would draw attention, but not wanting to be checked so openly.

“Let's see,” I teased, using your hesitation to spin you around and pull back your diaper, “No poopies! But then why are you being so silly?”

We both knew the reason, but this game was far too fun.

“Oh no, did Daddy forget to shave your legs? Are you a hairy baby?”

“N-no!”

Your eyes meet mine, an unusual mix of neediness and daring. Not that it matters—there’s no going back to the way things were before.

This is what you begged for.

And where better to learn your rightful place in the world than here, surrounded by all these beautiful people?

Miami is where people go to see and be seen. To touch and be touched. A place that celebrates and perpetuates all the adult things that you gave up.

The people on the beach are no longer your equals.

No man will ever look at you in your thick, soggy diapers with the same lust as the women sunbathing on the beach.

Women will no longer be jealous of your beauty—the girl getting her diaper changed is adorable, not a threat.

All anyone will see is a silly girl.

“No? Hmm, this is quite the conundrum. Surely the baby isn’t scared of everyone seeing her friends?!”

I kneel in front of you and poke each character as I name them. “I thought you loved Lily..and Zack…and don’t forget Griffin!”

“D-Daddyyyy.”

“Princess…you’re not a big girl anymore. You’ll never be a big girl again. Look around, do you see anyone in diapers? No. They’re the adults—not you. This is your life now.”

“B-but…Daddy…”

Poor baby.

“No buts, sweetie. It’s time to let go of who you were, she’s not coming back. You’re never getting out of diapers or getting a second chance at adulthood. It’s time to show everyone the real you.”

You struggle to reply, surveying the crowd knowing every one of them is about to see your diaper.

“Now, are you ready to let Daddy put on your sunscreen?”

“Y-yeah, Daddy…”

“Do you want your binky?”

Your eyes flitter trying to decide. A binky will only draw attention to your infantile state—but you crave its calming power.

I smile at your teeny head nod.

“Good girl!” Inside your favorite binky in your mouth. “Daddy is proud of you, Princess.”

A weak, nervous smile creeps behind your pacifier.

I tickle your tummy before grabbing the sides of your linen pants, the last vestige of your adulthood, and slide them down, exposing your soggy Safari diaper.

“There’s my friends! Hi Lily!” I coo playfully, acting as if this is the most normal thing in the world. I grab the sunscreen and rub them into your legs, not even glancing at the reactions around me.

Because it doesn’t matter what they think. All that matters is ensuring my princess is properly protected from the sun.

Especially when the UV is at 11!

Your leg muscles are tight, locked in fear. I can feel your nerves in the way you're swaying and timidly fidgeting.

I ignore it.

You're not the woman I met two years ago. Not the woman one could shame a bartender with her dirty martinis. Or the woman who dominated every interaction at work.

That woman—whatever remains of her—is the one that’s nervous being seen in the diaper by all these hot twenty-something’s.

She’ll fade away into oblivion as the sweet, needy babygirl that I love gains more confidence. The one that belongs in diapers. The one that isn’t worried about things like sex, success, and fashion.

All I care about is the adorable little thing that yearns for the tender, intimate moments lying in Daddy’s lap, suckling on a baba, lost in my eyes. Hearing her silly giggles when Daddy makes funny faces during diaper changes.

And most of all, the way she blames her stuffy for her poopy diapers with such conviction.

“All done! Ready for that soda, princess?”

Your binky bobs a few times before you nod.

She has no idea how adorable she is right now. I almost feel bad that she’s struggling when I’m barely able to contain myself.

Here we are in the middle of South Beach—and she’s standing under a cabana in a floral print tankini and a soggy Rearz diaper, suckling on a pacifier.

Every bit the baby she’ll be for the rest of her life.

From the cooler, I grab you a soda and myself a Pacifico. You grab the soda but don't drink any, looking at me expectantly.

“Whoops, Daddy forgot to clip your binky to your shirt!”

Your cheeks are the most adorable shade of red as you stand there, letting me clip her pacifier to your top so you can drink your soda.

“Do you want to play in the sand for a bit before we go in the water?” I ask, knowing she’s not ready to venture beyond the relative safety of our cabana.

She nods.

I kiss your forehead before guiding you down to the sand. “I’ll grab your toys, sweetie.”

I’ll never forget this moment as long as I live. The way your diaper poofs out as you sit criss-cross applesauce looking up at me, waiting for Daddy to bring your toys play in the sand.

Luckily, I couldn’t help myself at the store, buying every adorable shovel, bucket, and sandcastle mold in sight.

I place them all in front of you.

In an hour, you're no longer glancing around at the curious beachgoers, consumed in play. As I work on another beer, you look up at me and smile.

“Having fun, baby?”

“Mhm!”

“Wanna go in the water?”

“Ummm…” you stares out at the water, debating. As she does, her face suddenly focuses on something.

“What ya looking at princess?”

No response.

“Princess?”

Your hands ball into fists as she leans forward, still starting at nothing in particular.

“Mmmghhp.”

“Are you making a boomboom for Daddy?”

“Mmmpgghhh.”

Three college girls in University of Miami sorority shirts, walking by, hear your little grunts and stop to watch a girl their age mess a diaper with cartoon animals grunting behind a pacifier.

A loud, bubbly toot trumpets into your diaper, which they take as their cue to move on. But not before giving me sympathetic smiles—especially after you grunt again.

You're too lost in your pushie stupor to notice anything around you. Every grunt and every push is another step into babyhood.

A small, needy voice breaks the silence.

“D-Dada….”

Your voice cracks, small and needy barely louder than the distant crash of the waves. Your cheeks are the deepest shade of crimson I’ve ever seen, eyes wide and glistening as you glance towards the sorority girls still lingering a few steps away.

They’re pretending they aren’t watching your babyish display but their knowing smiles and whispered giggles tell a different story.

I lean in closer, my voice low and velvet-soft against your ear.

“What’s wrong, Princess? Use your words. Tell Daddy what you need.”

“I…I…”

“Did my princess make a boomboom?”

“M-mhm…”

“You silly baby, c’mon, let’s get Daddy’s lil’ stinker changed!”

I don’t even bother finding anywhere secluded to change her. This is her life now—and mine.

All around us the hot and sweaty dance of Miami Beach continues on as if we were never there. As it will for every summer after.

But not for you.

Next summer I’ll take you somewhere age appropriate.

[thebrattyprincesspage]

Diaper Dependency

"Soon enough, you wouldn’t have any control left at all. You’d helplessly fill your diapers wherever we are, even in public and in front of friends, family, and strangers. And you’d just grow more and more embarrassed, and more and more dependent on Daddy’s kindness and care. You’d grow to love your diapers until you were nothing more than the helpless, thumb-sucking little diaper baby you’d always secretly wanted to be."

[destinedfordiapers]

She Will Be Loved

This caption was written with, is for, and features the adorable @prettymuchpottytrained. I just may have a few more captions left in the tank after all.

Anyone watching you through the baby monitor would be forgiven for thinking you were nothing more than a toddler refusing to sleep. Between the expensive baby monitor Daddy bought and the Bluey nightlight, your infantile state was impossible to miss.

Your Bluey shirt failed spectacularly to cover your overworked Stardust Nursery diaper, which drooped adorably between your legs. Your binky bobbed sporadically while you surveyed the nursery.

Nobody seeing you would ever believe you were actually an adult.

But you could hear what the baby monitor could not—the telltale sounds of pleasure coming from Daddy’s bedroom.

“Ahhh, she's so stinking cute in her widdle diapers!” Mary squealed in delight, watching the diaper-clad girl on Daddy's phone, “She’s like a real baby with her pacifier!”

“Just wait,” Daddy said behind a smirk, knowing what's about to happen. “It gets better. But try not to wake her up. It was hard enough putting her down for her nap and she’s just as fussy as a toddler if it gets interrupted.”

Daddy’s friends nod conspiratorially as they go back to watching the recording on his phone while you nap down the hall, blissfully unaware that your antics are the star of the show.

Had you known the baby monitor had a camera, you might have resisted your urges.

But you didn’t.

You couldn’t resist the siren song of pleasure. Between Mommy’s moans and Daddy’s decisive grunts—and your throbbing princess parts—you were utterly helpless to control yourself.

There you were, kneeling in your crib and diaper, listening to the unmistakable sounds of pure, erotic bliss, forced to accept the truth of your new place in life.

Nobody considered you an adult anymore.

Your nursery was no longer ornamental; it was a functional room designed to handle the needs of a diaper-dependent little one.

Your diapers were no longer accessories; they were necessary. It had been so long since you used the potty that the only time you spent out of them was for baths and the few minutes a day Daddy let your skin air out.

Your clothes no longer serve to highlight your feminine curves; they were designed to make diaper changes easier for Daddy.

Your binky was no longer a “mute button;” it was a necessary tool to calm the nerves of someone too emotionally immature to be expected to self-soothe.

Naptime is no longer an occasional event; it is now a daily requirement to avoid tantrums. One missed nap meant hours of fussiness.

Daddy didn’t strip away your decision-making and autonomy because he made you squirm; he did it because he no longer believes you are capable of managing yourself without a caregiver.

He sees you for who you are.

You aren’t his strong, independent wife anymore; you’re his poopy pamper princess. He knows you don’t need him to be a husband—you need Daddy. Someone to wipe the tears off your cheeks when you’re overwhelmed, to change your icky diapies, and to slide your favorite stuffy into your arms before bed.

Which is why Mommy is the one moaning in pleasure—not you.

You didn't get demoted to the nursery because you're just some silly cuckquean, getting off on being relegated to humping stuffies in a soggy diaper. He's not doing it to tease, humiliate, or titillate you.

He’s doing it because he can no longer imagine the sweet, innocent babygirl who squeals in delight when he blows raspberries on her tummy during poopy diaper changes as a sexual being.

You’re his baby.

His love for you is as strong as the day he married you—but the nature of your intimate moments together has irreconcilably changed.

For him, nothing beats the slow, tender evenings with you wrapped up in his arms, staring up at him with sleepy eyes full of love, your binky bobbing slower and slower until you drift off.

Or the rainy weekends when he raids the linen closet so he can build a fort with his little one, making room for every stuffy. Or the binky kisses.

How could he possibly imagine you as an adult with sexual desires?

“Wait…she’s not gonna use that stuffy to do that, right?” James gasped, watching you lay your favorite stuffy on his back.

Mommy and Daddy look at each other, trying not to laugh.

“She does have one naughty big girl habit,” Mommy chuckled as you positioned yourself with the stuffy, “But it’s just so stinking cute. Best part is she thinks she’s sneaky, too.”

They watch your adorably clumsy thrusts into your favorite stuffy. Slowly at first, glancing at the door periodically. Then faster. Greedier.

Mary sighed, “I can't believe I took sex advice from her.”

“Maybe you should take a leaf from her book,” James quipped, “You've been single for so long, maybe a stuffy would be the perfect boyfriend. Besides, you'd look so cute in one of those diapers! Wait, her little diaper crinkles as she humps are adorable!”

Daddy immediately rushed to pause the video.

“Why'd you pause it?”

“Because the video doesn't have sound...”

“Wha-whacha wachin', Daddy?” you mumbled. You were too groggy from your nap to be embarrassed about your friends seeing your adorably frizzy hair, diaper, and binky.

“Oh, just some boring video, nothing you'd enjoy, kiddo.”

Daddy slid the phone into his pocket before lifting you up and resting you on his hip.

“Oh my gosh, do the stars on her diaper fade away when she's wet?” Mary asks, “See, those stars are normal, and those ones are gone.”

Daddy crinkles your diaper playfully. “They do! We thought they might help her with some potty training. Seeing her stars go 'bye-bye' might inspire her to stay dry, but...Well, let's just say I expect diapers to be part of her life for a long, long time.”

Knowing your diaper is on full display—and hearing everyone casually talk about your potty training struggles—you hide your face in Daddy's neck, holding onto him like a koala in a hurricane.

“What are you doing out of bed, hmm?” Daddy cooed, bouncing you slightly to distract you from noticing his hand pulling back your diaper.

“D-Dada!” you whine at the indignity of this public diaper check.

Daddy rubs your back. “Uh oh...are you Dada's little stinkerpants? Poor baby, trying to sleep in that icky yucky didi...”

You peel yourself from Dada's neck to give him your devastating puppy-dog eyes.

“C'mon, baby, let's get you out of that poopy diapie,” Daddy says, heading towards your nursery.

As you're carried off you catch something about a stuffy and laughter.

“Wuh funny bou' sthuffie, Dada?” you ask as you're gently deposited onto the changing table.

Daddy tickles your tummy. “Oh, they can't get over how much you love your stuffies, that's all.”

For a split-second, a horrible dread crept into your mind—do they know? Why did Daddy say "love" like that? Did Daddy hear when you...played with Dijon?

But the thought is forgotten the moment cold air rushes into your princess parts as Daddy peels back your diaper.

The only thing that mattered was Daddy putting you in a fresh, warm diaper.

[thekinkyplayground]

Good Girl!

The way Connie, er, Mama looks at me is positively mortifying. It's as if the flecks of green in her irises are all subtly judging me as I look up at her in shame.

"Baby, do you wanna tell Mommy something?" She asks, in that same, damn mocking tone she always uses. She already knows the answer to the question she's asking. Mommy never asks a question she doesn't know the answer to already. When she asks if I'm wet, it's not because she's genuinely curious, it's because my Huggies have been sagging down between my legs, and I've been too busy playing to notice.

She wants to give you the opportunity to admit it. To claim babyhood yourself without having it pushed on you.

And now, she's asking me to basically confess to masturbating in my diaper- "making cummies" as she calls it, usually in that sing-song voice she always uses, and which she usually tells me is a big "no-no" without permission. This time, I didn't get permission at all. I grinded my diapered pussy back and forth on "Mr. Teddy," a large brown teddy bear that has been a consistent bedfellow ever since I signed up for... whatever this new life is. The only times Mommy and I make consistent physical contact are kisses, hugs, spankies, changies, rubbies, bathtime, and feeding. It's actually quite often, just never sexual.

Now she's standing over me, arms folded, holding a fresh diaper in one hand and a hairbrush in the other. I haven't had my bath yet, and the left eyebrow is going up, so she's probably not planning on brushing my hair with it.

"Did you make humpies and cummies without Mommy's permission?" Mommy asks, a grin playing about her face as her hands migrate to her massive, sexy hips.

"Yes... I-I'm sorry, Mommy." I spit the words out, tears beginning to form. This is so fucking humiliating. Here I am, a 34-year-old grown-ass woman, standing in naught but a very wet and heavy diaper, calling my roommate (and now, caregiver) "Mommy" and apologizing... to her... for sexually relieving myself. How pathetic is that?

"Well, Tessa, you're a very smart little girl." The 29-year-old nurse smiles, leaning over to get down to my level. "Can you tell me what happens when babies make cummies without Mommy's permission?"

"Th-they... they..." I begin, knowing the answer but wanting to delay the inevitable, as my puss- er, princess parts once again begin tingling at the thought of my sexy caretaker bringing down one of her world-famous spankings on my pale, waiting ass cheek.

Mommy knows my tricks. "They get what, Tessa? Come on, you know this."

"Sp-spankies." I spit the words out, tripping a bit over my words, which seem to have been jumbled a bit by how hard my heart is beating in my chest. This isn't fucking normal. This isn't how a grown woman with a law degree should be living her life. Yet, I chose this, as Mommy constantly reminds me whenever I don't take my punishments well. This was my decision.

"Do you believe you should get spankies?" Mommy asks. Despite the opinionated nature of the question, don't be fooled, there is a RIGHT answer to this question, and not giving it results in more spankings and even corner time if I've acted up enough.

"Yes, Mommy." I answer.

"And why is that, Tess-Tess?" The nickname. God, my sex is burning now, and she knows it. Mommy's a big fan of tension, and she's building it masterfully, like a skilled architect.

"Cause I'mma... I'm a... a big... a big, dumb, helpless little baby..." I give her what she wants, shivering all the while as I wait for my pleasurable punishment at the hands of the Disney Princess hairbrush. I could cum right now, but I don't. The spankings are pleasurable as fuck, but they make sitting down really uncomfortable, even with the padding that my thick, fluffy Huggies give.

"Good girl. Assume the position." Mommy sits down on our sofa and pulls my tummy onto her strong, muscular legs, pulling my big, heavy diaper down to my ankles before delivering a firm, hard swat onto my butt, causing it to jiggle just a bit. WHAP!

I begin to tear up a bit- it hurts so good.

"That's the first one." Mommy comments, winding up for another. WHAP!

"Ughhhhh..." I moan, more tears coming as I queue up my best, most babyish voice to appeal to my Mommy. "I'm sowwy, Mommy... I... I did-dent mean to..."

"You should be. Eight more." Mommy replies, not even giving my attempts at getting off without too much of a sore butt the time of day. WHAP! WHAP! WHAP!

Mommy spanks me more, and I let out a gentle, pained yelp with each. This is so fucked up. I know it, she knows it. But it works. And she's training me.

WHAP! WHAP! WHAP!

Because I deserve it. I made cummies without her permission. Or her help. Just like a bad girl. And I'm not a bad girl.

WHAP!

Mommy always tells me the spankings are to help me. To train me. To make me what I want and need to be to make Mommy happy...

WHAP!

...a good girl.

I'm a whimpering, shivering mess now, tears running down my face and an ass as red as a rose. Mommy pulls my diaper up and brings me up into a sitting position on her lap.

"Next time, come find me when you're ready to make cum-cums, little girl." Mommy softly whispers, as I slump into her. "You're a good girl. Mommy hates doing that to you, but you gotta follow Mommy's rules, Tess-Tess." She presses a kiss from her plump, soft lips into my forehead. It feels amazing.

"Yes, Mommy..." I reply, feeling tired, but relieved. Mommy loves me. She takes care of me, even when I'm too dumb and babyish to do so for myself.

"Now, honey- let's get you into a fresh diaper and put you down for a nap with a baba." Mommy carries me over to a changing table, as consciousness begins to leave me.

I love my Mommy, and I wanna be a good girl for her always.

[mads-the-dog]

"Oh, stinkbug, if you wanted me to let you out to play with the big kids, you shouldn't have made a big, icky mess, like an itty bitty baby!"

I smile malevolently as you thrash in the restraints of your stroller, screaming into the paci gag strapped around your head, eyes rolling back, as you try futilely to escape my clutches.

I lock the wheels of your humiliating chariot, and drop to one knee, and begin to unbuckle you.

"Don't worry though, you'll still get to put on a show for all of your little friends!"

Your thrashing stops as concern overwhelms desperation on your face.

"I'm sure they'll all want to watch as I change your messy little bum! I mean, it's not often little ones get to watch their old babysitters have their didi's changed."

Your screams become wordless pleas as I pull you from the stroller.

"Oh, look! I can already see all of your former little charges waddling over! Let's get you all set up so they can see what a silly wittle baby the big bad neighborhood bully has become!"

[prettyprettypaci3]

Diaper humiliation.

I know, I know. You're picturing a big, dramatic scene where I pull down your pants, spank you into submission, tape you into a thick diaper and lock it into place.

You know what's so much more delicious to me? Diaper humiliation as routine. As lifestyle. As background noise.

You come home from work and swap out your house keys for a big pacifier, which you clip to your collar. You pull out your phone as you walk to the living room, casually removing your pants and underwear with your other hand. You lie down on the floor and spread your bare legs in the air, assuming the expected position as you submissively wait for your nightly diaper. Your legs dangle there stupidly as you suckle and scroll.

I let you dawdle like that for a minute or two before coming to oil and powder your bottom. You tell me about your day, drooling a bit through your paci, and I tell you about mine. I fold up the diaper nice and tight against your waiting bum and seal it.

No scene. No roleplay. No taunting or threats. Peeing in diapers and sucking pacifiers are just your everyday home life, as much as Netflix and takeout would be for a normal couple.

Because every once in a while, when you're not expecting it — as you're waddling to the kitchen in your soggy pampers or feeling a rope of drool ooze onto your dinner bib — it hits you like a ton of bricks: What a silly diapered dummy you are! When did being drooly, padded, and humiliated become so natural to you? So unremarkable? Your face will get hot, you'll feel squirmy in your tummy, and it will be so delicious, because it came out of nowhere.

Make it routine.

[socrybabycry]

I wish I could be a big baby all of the time. Just spend all day going peepee and poopy in my big baby diapers, watching cartoons and sucking my paci or my baba… Drooling and babbling as my mommy wipes my hairless baby pussy and my poopy bottom, laughing at me as I whine for cummies. I just wanna be a stupid baby, completely helpless and humiliated.

[littlepinkss]

BIG DIAPER FRIDAY 💦

“Aww, 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 drooling”.🩷

MORE IN MY JFF

[bbcharlotte]

[mellowsadistic]

"Uh-oh!" I cooed in a lilting, sing-song voice, smiling at the sight of the discoloured padding between my wife’s legs. "Did little La-La have an accident in her diapee?"

Alana gazed at me blankly for a few moments, blinking stupidly, then stared down at her drooping diaper. She shifted her weight from foot to foot, only now aware of the heavy wetness between her legs. "Oop-shee..." she lisped from behind her pacifier. "Oop-shee, Dada! Wet-wet!”

Dressed in nothing but her t-shirt and nappy, Alana was already attracting a lot of attention from the other beach-goers. Despite her long and slender legs, she toddled about as unsteadily as a two-year-old, her shapely bottom clashing absurdly with the babyish bulk it was wrapped in. Her generous breasts wobbled braless beneath her top while she splashed in the shallows or sat building sandcastles with clumsy hands. Now her soaked Pampers were drawing even more stares and snickers.

I grinned. "Such a silly baby! You couldn't even tell you'd tinkled until Daddy told you, could you? Who’s a silly girl? Who’s a silly little soggy-pants baby?”

Alana giggled, enjoying the sweet tone of my voice. “Siwwy!” she squealed loudly, pulling a few more gazes in our direction as she bounced up and down on the spot, pigtails flapping about her face. “I a siwwy, soggy-panths bay-bee, Dada!”

I chuckled and stroked her hair. “You certainly are. Daddy likes you so much better like this, sweetheart. No more snarky comments, no more nagging. And I happen to think soggy diapers suit you much better than those boring business suits you used to wear.” I cupped her face in my hands, looking into her blank, innocent eyes. "Grown-up time for good girls," I said softly.

Something shifted in her expression, a look of mild confusion that turned to mounting horror as her adult mind came back, and she realised where she was, what she was wearing, how many people were watching...

All her memories of the past few days suddenly clarified. How I’d promised to help her unwind after a difficult day at work, and shown her that strange, spiralling video with the pretty colours that had made her feel so relaxed and sleepy and small. How I’d taken her into her office and paraded her around in front of all her former subordinates dressed like a one-year-old, even letting that intern she always yelled at tickle her tummy and pat her thickly diapered bottom! How I’d brought her to her favourite fancy restaurant, strapped a bib around her neck, and fed her a meal off the kid’s menu while she babbled happily and received pitying looks from the other diners. And now here, at a public beach, where she'd been making an infantile spectacle of herself in front of hundreds of people...

Her body tensed, her hands balled into fists, and she opened her mouth to unleash a furious tirade, pacifier falling from her lips.

"Baby time for bad girls," I said quickly, before she could get a word out, and at once her shoulders relaxed again. All the anger and humiliation drained out of her eyes in a second, replaced by a vacant contentment. I tickled her under the chin and elicited a gurgling giggle. "That's better," I crooned, cuddling her close and kissing her forehead. "It’ll be fun to bring big girl Alana back every now and then, to show her how she’s spending her life, but I think a few seconds is all I can stand. I much prefer my little La-La.”

Alana's expression changed again, gaze tightening and lips pursing together, as if she was thinking hard, and for a moment I feared the hypnosis was failing, that my ruthless, intelligent wife was fighting the mental conditioning. But then she let out a soft grunt and bent her knees.

“Oopsie-daisy!” I chuckled. "Is baby La-La going poo-poo in her pants?"

Alana cocked her head, mouth hanging open, and after a moment she frowned and reached behind her to press a hand to the back of her Pampers. Then she grinned proudly and nodded. “Poopy, Dada!”

"Who's a messy girl?" I cooed, reaching out with tickling fingers to illicit more delighted squeals from my big baby girl. "Is it you, La-La? Are you a messy-bum baby at the beach?"

"Methy giwl, Dada!" Alana shouted for all to hear. "I a methy-bum bay-bee at da beach!"

[socrybabycry]

Man, fuck The Boys. What do you mean that I’ve watched this fucking show for seven damn years and develop a crippling fixation on Butchlander because of the last fucking episode??? I’ve struggled to think about anything else for the past week, I just think about that sniveling little brat on his knees begging to suck Butcher off, good fucking god. It’s like all of a sudden it clicked in my brain and I don’t know why it never clicked for me before. It’s probably a mix of Homelander being just the most despicable villain but also the show sucking so hard the last two seasons, that was pretty distracting lol. But now I want nothing more than Daddy Butcher and Babylander, like I’m desperate for it! Like I’m so inspired I may actually break my multi-year writing hiatus to start writing again, I’ve got two story lines that are eating away at my brain. I really want to write a dirty nasty fic where Butcher doesn’t kill Homelander but instead keeps him as an adult baby instead, subjecting him to the most diabolical humiliations. But I also want to write a sweet fic where Homelander and Butcher start feeling tenderly towards each other when they realize how strongly Homelander gets off on being babied (and especially babied by Billy). It may be so dumb, but I keep imagining the two of them watching Beauty and the Beast, but Homelander has never seen even a single Disney movie before. I keep thinking about him getting sucked into it, his eyes getting big and soft, crying at the end… At one point, he’d be so enthralled that he doesn’t even realize he’s sucking his thumb, right in front of Billy Butcher, and it embarrasses him so much when he realizes what he’s doing. Uuuugh I need like a million fics about this stupid little baby and this stupid fucking show right now!! Kripke, you finally snared me you son of a bitch.

[bbabybbear-reboot]

The moment I realized that squeezing my butt cheeks together didn’t matter anymore. There was no holding it back now. I froze, caught between choices: run to the bathroom and go the rest in the potty, or just let it happen in my pull-up. That’s what Mommy always said they were for, anyway.

But it had been so long since she’d checked me and found that. I didn’t want to disappoint her. I didn’t want to admit I couldn’t control myself. I hesitated too long. Another wave pushed through me, stronger, and I felt more slipping out despite my weak attempt to clench. My knees bent on their own, my hands flying to my stomach.

I can't stop it. The realization hit all at once—hot, humiliating, final. My body had already decided. I crawled onto my chair, squatted instinctively, and pushed, a helpless sound leaving me as I felt the pull-up grow heavier beneath me.

🙈 See all the humiliating pictures here 🙈

[tentativetitlee]

All of your friends coming over for a “baby shower” except there’s no actual baby and it’s just your first night as a fully infantilized adult.

Your partner having a conversation with everyone about your regressive progress as you quietly find a spot behind the couch to squat and push. A friend catching your embarrassing escapade and announcing to the party that your diaper’s full as your face flushes deep crimson.

Being laid down on a changing mat in the middle of the celebration so your partner can show everyone how an adult’s diaper change is performed. A willing participant is called up to place the tapes of your fresh Huggies as you absentmindedly suckle on your pacifier and look up starry-eyed.

Having your adult boundaries completely ignored for the rest of the night. People you considered as your friends openly pull back your waistband to check for damages. Former crushes pinch your cheeks and coo at your adorable, babyish outfit as you cling to your caregiver’s side

Being sent to bed early as the crowd continues the night’s festivities, falling asleep in your crib to the sounds of your now-parental figure’s sounds of pleasure in the room next over. Waking up the next morning to a soggy diaper, and absolutely no chance of going back.

Isn’t this just what you wanted?

[destinedfordiapers]

Dancing in the Moonlight

This caption was written with—and of course features—the amazingly talented @prettymuchpottytrained02. Such a cutie.

A mobile slowly spins above her crib, barely visible in the soft, warm glow of the nightlight.

Dreamy, delicate melodies of long-forgotten nursery rhymes drift from the antique music box in the corner of the nursery.

None of this made any difference to the sole occupant of the nursery.

Peanut glared at the mobile, her binkie bobbing furiously in her mouth. She dramatically kicked off her blankets in a fit of frustration at the muffled cheers invading her nursery.

It wasn’t fair!

All she wanted was to stay up one night—one night!—past her bedtime to watch the big football game with Daddy and his friends!

It was her team, too! Daddy knew how excited she was about the game.

She ruminated about how she used every tool in her arsenal to soften Daddy up over the last week. How she went to bed every night without a fuss. Gave him her best puppy-dog eyes each morning when she lay in his lap, suckling her baba.

She even picked up all the toys scattered around her nursery without Daddy asking! Daddy’s perfect angel.

Just to end up in her crib at bedtime.

Another chorus of cheers interrupted the tranquility of her nursery. She kicked her legs at the injustice of it all.

The sudden movement, so similar to the bicycle kicks Daddy insists on whenever her tummy is full of bubbles, results in a stream of toots.

“Hmpff,” she pouted, even angrier that her outburst backfired.

She folded her arms, resigned to her fate, until an idea struck her. A smirk grew behind her binky.

If Daddy wouldn’t let her watch the game, then she wouldn’t let him watch, either.

Grabbing the bars of her crib, she pulled herself to her knees. Her diapered bum floating just above her toes.

The perfect position to fill her diaper.

A series of tiny grunts and ragged breaths filled the room as she pushed, determined to load her diaper.

Her only progress after a few minutes of effort was a single, terrifying toot so loud it must have been heard in the other room.

Red-faced, frustrated, and out of breath, she throws herself flat on her back. Why was it so hard? She never has to try! Most of the time, she doesn’t know she’s pooping until her diaper gets heavy!

Lost in thought, she unconsciously fiddles with her feet, pulling them close to her face.

Suddenly, everyone in the other room cheers in unison, startling her. Before Peanut can react, her diaper crinkles softly as it expands. She reflexively grunts as her body takes over, pushing more mess into her diaper.

Peanut pulls her feet closer, unaware she’s loading her diaper.

By the time she realizes she’s pooping, she’s almost done. Her diaper was already bulging to accommodate its burden. She giggles in between grunts.

Mission accomplished.

She sits up, giggling harder as the mess spreads even more. Usually, she’d avoid mushing her mess, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

As she reaches for the latch to escape her crib, she notices her favorite stuffie watching her.

Judging her.

“Don’ judth me, Dithon,” she lisps through her paci, “Dada thtarted it!”

The enormity of Peanut’s mess is immediately obvious the moment she steps out of her crib; her diaper droops dangerously as she waddles to the door. Her shirt is far too short to cover her diaper.

Had she been less stubborn she would at least have the onesie Daddy got her for the game to support and conceal—well, at least cover—her diaper.

But no, she had to be fussy and reject it.

It takes a moment for her eyes to adjust to the bright light, though she waddles on anyway, making her way to noise down the hall, thankful it drowned out her crinkles.

She reaches the end of the hallway, heart beating fast. Not only is she not supposed to be out of bed, she isn’t particularly keen on being seen in a diaper this messy.

No matter how many times she’s been around Daddy’s friends, how many times he’s loudly announced she needed a change, how many times he’s marched her to another room for a diaper change, she still squirms being in a full diaper around them.

She quickly peeks around the corner to find Daddy and get his attention without his friends noticing. To her horror, Daddy’s friend Bailey happened to be looking right at her. She tried to hide, hoping she wasn’t seen.

“Was that you, little one? Did I see a peeking Peanut just now?”

Peanut doesn’t move. Maybe Bailey will think she was seeing things.

“I did see a peeking Peanut!” Bailey coos, finding Peanut “Everything okay, honey? Daddy put you to bed an hour ago.”

Bailey looks down at Peanut’s droopy diaper.

Unable to meet Bailey’s eyes, Peanut stares at the hardwood floor.

“Oh, poor baby, I bet that diaper doesn’t feel very good, huh? Come on, honey, let’s go find your Daddy.”

“M…m-bu,” Peanut mumbles, eyes wide at Bailey’s suggestion.

“Hush, honey,” Bailey soothed the poor girl, wrapping her in a hug and gently patting her diaper, “We need to get you out of that diaper before we have a blowout on our hands.”

A hand guides Peanut forward, out of the safety of the hallway and into the living room. She feels the eyes of everyone in the room on her—and her diaper.

“Uh oh, looks like somebody needs a change!” Jane, another of Daddy’s friends, says.

“You can say that again, poor thing. Anyone know where her Daddy is?”

“He just went to the bathroom, I’ll go get him,” Larry says.

A silence that lasts an eternity overtakes the room. Peanut tries to avoid eye contact and pretend everyone is watching the game and not the helpless baby in a poopy diaper.

“Peanut, what are you doing out of bed, hmmm?” Daddy asks as he walks over to his little one, “I was just about to check on you.”

Peanut feels Bailey pat her diaper. “Probably has something to do with this.”

The others in the room groan at the game.

“Oh, Peanut,” Daddy says distractedly, watching the game, “I’ll change you after this drive, okay?”

“No, no, no, look at her!” Bailey chastised Daddy, “Her diaper is about to fall off!”

Jane stands up, giving Daddy the evil eye before turning to Peanut, “Don’t worry little one, we won’t make you wait. Where are your diapers, sweetie?”

Peanut’s binkie bobs a bit more. “Ummm…m’nurswy.”

“Honey, you’re lucky your diaper hasn’t fallen off already. That won’t make it down the hall,” Bailey insisted, “I’ll get you out of that icky diaper right here, okay? Doesn’t a clean diapie sound nice?”

This was not the plan.

The plan was for Daddy to change her diaper in the nursery—not getting her diaper changed by Bailey right here in front of everyone!

Bailey kneels in front of Peanut with the diaper bag, looking deep into her eyes. “You have nothing to be embarrassed about, little one. It’s just a poopy diapie. Will you let us get that tushie fresh and clean?”

“M-mhm.”

Bailey tickles her tummy. “Good girl! Your Daddy always brags about his brave little Peanut.”

Somehow, despite getting her poopy diaper changed right there in front of everyone, Peanut found herself loving the attention from Jane and Bailey.

Jane made the silliest faces playing peek-a-boo while Peanut giggled in utter delight whenever Bailey blew raspberries on her tummy.

By the time Bailey carefully rolled her messy diaper into a ball and slid a fresh diaper under her, Peanut could not care less about being changed in front of everyone.

Excited, incoherent babble serenaded the room—the sounds of a happy baby having the time of her life.

“There, all clean!” Bailey said proudly, smoothing out the diaper and admiring her handiwork, “Let’s get you back to bed, cutie.”

“Bu bu wa-wan play!”

“Sorry, kiddo,” Bailey said with a twinge of disappointment, “As much as I’d love to play, it’s well past your bedtime.”

Just as Peanut was about to give up, Daddy walked over with a warm bottle of milk filled with vanilla, honey, and a dash of cinnamon.

“How can I deny Bailey some quality time with my little Peanut after she wiped her tushie clean? Peanut, if you ask Bailey nicely, maybe she’ll let you sit on her lap and hold your baba for you while we finish the game. Would you like that?”

“Yeth pwease, Dada! May I pwease Mith Baiwey? Pwetty pwease?”

“Of course, honey! I’d love that!”

The last thing Peanut remembered was laying on Bailey’s lap suckling the warm milk from her baba, as Bailey smiled down at the baby with heavy eyes.

Her wet suckles continuing a few minutes after her eyes closed for the last time.

She didn’t even stir when Daddy’s team won on a last second field goal.

Sleeping like a baby.