Xuebing Du

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Today's Document

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@sub-flix
The Reintroduction
The stroller’s wheels squeak softly as Mommy pushes you through the front door, the sound of laughter and chatter spilling out from the living room. You can feel the weight of the thick diaper between your legs, the plastic backing crinkling with every slight movement. The shortalls do little to hide the obvious bulge, the fabric stretched taut over the padding. You wiggle your toes, the socks on your feet feeling absurdly small, like they belong to a child rather than a grown man. But that’s what you are now, aren’t you? Mommy’s little boy, strapped into a stroller, about to be paraded in front of people who once knew you as an equal.
You grip the tray of the stroller, your fingers tracing the edge of the plastic as Mommy steers you into the room. The conversations falter for a moment, then die entirely. You can almost hear the confusion in the silence. A few of your former coworkers glance over, their expressions shifting from polite smiles to outright bewilderment. One of them, Mark, from accounting, does a double take, his beer bottle pausing halfway to his lips.
“Uh…” he starts, then stops, as if his brain can’t quite process what he’s seeing.
Mommy doesn’t miss a beat. She stops the stroller in the middle of the room, her hand resting on the back as she beams down at you. “Look who I brought!” she announces, her voice dripping with that infuriating, affectionate pride. “Say hi to everyone, sweetheart.”
You squirm, your face burning. You want to shrink into the stroller, to disappear entirely, but there’s nowhere to hide. The diaper is impossible to ignore, the bulk of it pressing against the seat, the tapes digging slightly into your hips. You can feel the warmth spreading through the padding, you’d peed a little on the way over, nerves getting the better of you, and the wetness indicators are probably already an embarrassing blue.
“Hi,” you mumble, your voice small, your eyes fixed on your lap.
Mark, your old coworker, is the first to break the silence. He tilts his head, squinting at the obvious bulge beneath your shortalls. “Dude… is he wearing a diaper?”
Mommy doesn’t hesitate. “Of course he is.”
Sarah, from HR, steps closer, her eyes flicking between Mommy and the unmistakable outline of the diaper. “No way. Seriously?”
Mommy nods, her fingers already working at the snaps of your shortalls. “Seriously.”
Jake from marketing crosses his arms, his expression a mix of disbelief and amusement. “But does he, like… use it?”
Mommy’s grin widens as she unfastens the last snap and tugs the shortalls down your legs in one smooth motion. The fabric pools at your ankles, leaving you in nothing but your t-shirt and the thick, crinkling diaper. The room falls silent again as the full sight of you is revealed, the bulky padding, the plastic backing, the way the diaper forces your legs apart.
And then they see it.
The wetness.
The deep blue stripe on the front of the diaper is impossible to miss, the plastic glistening slightly where the moisture has spread. Sarah’s eyes widen. “Oh my God. He peed in it.”
Mommy chuckles, bending down to pull the shortalls free and set them aside. “Told you he uses them.”
Mark lets out a disbelieving laugh, crouching down to get a better look. His fingers hover just above the diaper, as if he’s afraid to touch it. “That’s… that’s wild.”
Jake shakes his head, his grin spreading. “So he just sits there, in a wet diaper, like it’s normal?”
Mommy ruffles your hair, her touch affectionate. “It is normal. For him, anyway.” She taps the front of your diaper, the squish loud in the quiet room. “See? Nice and wet. Just like a good little boy should be.”
The room erupts into laughter, the initial shock giving way to teasing. Sarah reaches out, her fingers brushing against the plastic backing. The crinkle is deafening. “Damn. That’s thick. And wet.”
You squirm, your face burning, but you don’t protest. What’s the point? The evidence is right there, plain for everyone to see. The diaper is heavy between your legs, the wetness a constant, embarrassing reminder of your regression. But beneath the humiliation, there’s something else, something warm, something comforting. This is who you are now. Mommy’s little boy, diapered and cared for, and if that means being the center of attention for a while, so be it.
The teasing continues for what feels like an eternity. They ask if you can walk (you can, but Mommy prefers to keep you in the stroller for “safety”). They ask if you want to be like this (the answer is complicated). They ask if Mommy changes you (yes, and you hate how much you love it).
Eventually, though, the novelty wears off. The adults drift back to their conversations, work, politics, the latest sports game, leaving you and Mommy on the periphery. Mommy bends down, her face softening as she looks at you. “You doing okay, baby?”
You nod, but your throat feels tight.
She smiles, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “Good boy. “Now go play.”
Play. The word makes your stomach twist, but you obey, shuffling toward the corner of the room where a few toys have been left out, a stuffed bear, a stack of blocks, a coloring book. You can feel the eyes on you as you move, the occasional snicker, the whispered comments. But you ignore them, because Mommy told you to play, and good boys listen to Mommy.
You sink down onto the floor, the diaper crinkling loudly beneath you. The blocks are in front of you, but you don’t reach for them. Instead, you sit there, your hands resting on your knees, the thickness of the diaper a constant, comforting presence.
Across the room, the party continues. Laughter, clinking glasses, the hum of adult conversation. And you? You’re just… there. A curiosity. A joke. A little boy in a diaper, left to his own devices while the grown-ups talk about grown-up things.
It’s humiliating.
It’s perfect.
Because for all the teasing, for all the stares, you know one thing for certain: you’re hers. And as long as Mommy’s happy, as long as she’s proud of her good little boy, you can endure anything.
My dream
Oh yes needed badly
One must always look up to mommy!
Leigh’s Favorite ABDL Words and Phrases
As a writer, I am often intrigued by certain words or word combinations, and I was thinking about which ABDL words really hit me right in the caregiver or little feels. So here’s a list 💕 There will be a fair amount of ageplay words as well, so be warned!
“Accident-prone”
“Baby cuck/cuckie baby”
“Baby sub/subby baby”
“Babygirl” (spelled this way specifically)
“Bedwetter” (spelled this way specifically)
“Big girl undies”
“Couldn’t hold it”
“Crinkle baby/baby crinkles”
“Diaper baby”
“Diaper brained”
“Diaper butt”
“Diaper check/let Mommy check your diaper”
“Diaper dependent”
“Diaper girl”
“Diaper waddle”
“Did someone have an accident”
“Did you go potty in your pants”
“Did you make a mess” (I find this one less embarrassing for some reason)
“Didn’t make it on time”
“Does someone need a change”
“Goodnites”
“Goony girl” (shut up)
“Huggie humper”
“I don’t think you’re ready for pull-ups”
“Kiddo”
“Leaky girl”
“Let Mommy change your diaper”
“Let’s change that diaper, little one”
“Like a big girl”
“Little girl”
“Little leaker/leaky little girl”
“Little miss ‘still-pees-her-pants’”
“Little one”
“Make tinkles”
“Make an uh-oh”
“Messy girl” (ignore this one it’s embarrassing)
“Mommy’s girl”
“No more big girl undies”
“Not big enough for that”
“Padded princess”
“Padding”
“Pamper bottom”
“Pissy pants”
“Poopy pants” (we’re ignoring this one too)
“Potty accident”
“Potty chart”
“Potty pants”
“Princess parts”
“Pullups” (it’s cuter when spelled this way)
“Put back in diapers”
“Silly little thing”
“Sweetie”
“Still needs diapers”
“Tinkle bell”
“Tinkle fairy”
“Too little for that”
“Too little to use the big girl potty”
“Training pants/training panties”
“Unpotty trained/training”
“Waistband peek”
I’m sure there’s a ton I’m forgetting, but a lot of these are interchangeable or variations of the same thing, so I’m gonna leave it here. Let me know if you have any favorites I missed!
MOMMY KNOWS BEST ❤️
Chapter 14
Brian walked into the house and immediately burst into tears. He crumpled to floor and cried for his mommy. “Oh baby, my goodness what’s wrong?” she asked as she sat down on the floor next to him. He nuzzled his face into her chest. She held him tight, “Shhhhh, everything is ok. Mommy is here. Do you think you can calm down enough to tell me what happened?”
Between sobs, Brian tried to tell her about his day, “I I, wet my pull-up twice today and then I lost my paci, but Samantha found and gave it back to me. And then she told me I should wear thicker protection.” His speech sounded like that of an excited toddler, as his short sentences rolled one into the next, “And, and, and then I had to go to a meeting about a new client and it was Babies R Us. I got so nervous in the meeting that I tried to pee just a little bit, but but but…”. Brian wailed like a helpless child. He was so upset that he didn’t even notice that he was uncontrollably wetting his pants again. Rebecca noticed the growing wet spot on the front of his pants. She continued to act like a concerned mother, but inside she was elated. He was becoming a baby before her very eyes, “But what honey? Tell mommy what happened.”
“I, I, I…soaked my pull-up. I am so ashamed mommy, I’m becoming a baby. I don’t know how I am going to make it through work tomorrow,” he buried his head into her chest again.
“That was very of brave of you to tell me what happened. And you know what? You are just a baby. You are mommy’s special little boy. Babies have accidents. That why I put you in pull-ups this morning. But it sounds like Samantha might be right. We might need to send you in something a little thicker tomorrow. Although you are just a baby, just imagine that when you are at work, you are pretending to be a big boy and doing all the things big boys do. But when you get home, you won’t have to pretend anymore. Mommy knows its hard being a big boy. Now, I see a very wet little boy who is desperate need of a change,” she said lifting up off the floor.
Brian let her guide him back to the bedroom. He descended into a haze again, but he knew that mommy would make everything better. She laid out a changing mat on the bed and beckoned him over. She unbuckled his belt and undid his pants, “Ok step out these for me.” Brian stuck his thumb in his mouth and followed her directions. After taking off his pants, she pulled off his soaking wet onesie. “Lay down on the changing bad for me. Oh my goodness you are soaked. You really went pee-pee,” she said as she tickled his belly. Brian giggled behind his thumb. She tore off the pull-up and wiped him down with some wipes. You know what, I think we should get you into a bath. Won’t that be nice?” she cooed at him.
She led him off into the bathroom and set his naked butt on the toilet seat, his thumb never leaving his mouth. “Now you sit here like a good boy, while I start your bath.” Brian just nodded, content to let her do everything for him. She drew he bath and added some bubbles. “Ok, hop in.” Brian sat down, the water barely coming up over his crotch, but he didn’t mind. The bubbles smelled nice and it was fun to splash. “Brian, I got you something for bath time,” she said excitedly and produced a big rubber ducky. His eyes lit up. In the past, his adult brain prevented him from truly enjoying his toys, but this felt different. He was genuinely excited about the rubber ducky. “Can you tell me what sound a duck makes?” Rebecca asked as she kneeled down next to the tub.
“Qwack,” Brian chirped.
“That’s right!”she cheered. “Now you play with that while mommy cleans you up.” Brian moved his ducky through the water and splashed about, making all kinds of silly little sounds. Rebecca smiled and laughed at her silly little boy, “Mommy is so very happy to see you playing and enjoying yourself. Isn’t that so much better than worrying about all those scary big boy things?”
Brian fervently nodded his head and went back to playing. Rebecca grapped a wash cloth and started washing him all over. He bristled a little when she washed his face and behind his ears. “Can you stand up, mommy needs to wash that pee-pee and your cute little butt.” Brian did as he was told. She rubbed the washcloth over his crotch and his bottom. Brian’s thumb returned to his mouth and she washed him up. Two days ok, if she had done this, he would have been overcome with shame and embarrassment, but in this moment it felt right. He had not a care in the world. “Ok its time to hop out now.”
“But mommy, I don’t wanna. I was having fun with ducky,” he whined.
“I know sweetheart and I’m so glad that you are having fun, but mommy still has to make dinner. And I know a big baby that needs to get his diaper on. We don’t want you peeing all over the floor,” she guided him out of the tub and dried him off. Hand in hand, the two returned to the bedroom where she diapered him and dressed him in another onesie. She clipped on a different pacifier than he was used to and he made a face at Rebecca. “Mommy has already started getting my baby lots of stuff.” Brian didn’t respond, but simply popped the pacifier in his mouth. In just a matter of two days, Brian was growing more and more dependent on his pacifier. It soothed him. He recalled his mother saying that he had a hard time letting go of it when he was a toddler.
After he was diapered and dressed, she led back to the den and laid him down on the couch like she had done the previous evening. She went to the kitchen and retuned with a bottle of milk and then placed the headphones over his ears. “Remember, this music helps you relax and be the best baby you can for mommy,” she whispered and then kissed his forehead. Brian began to nurse the bottle and in a few moments his eyes closed. When she was certain that he was content, she went to the kitchen to make dinner. But before she started cooking, she pulled out her phone. She scrolled through her contacts. She and Brian had gone out for drinks with Samantha on a few occasions. Although she didn’t know her well, they got along well. There was something about her she knew she could trust. She found her number and sent her a message: We need to talk.
Playpen Punishment
The nursery was quiet except for the soft crinkle of your diaper as you shifted in the playpen. The bars were tall, the padding beneath you plush, but none of it mattered. You were mad. Mommy had put you here for talking back, again, and no amount of pouting or kicking your feet was going to change that. The thick, baby-blue diaper between your legs felt like a betrayal, a reminder of how small she could make you feel when she wanted to.
You sighed, your pacifier bobbing as you sucked on it absently. The blanket beneath you was soft, but it did nothing to ease the frustration bubbling inside you. Without thinking, your hand drifted down, fingers pressing against the padded front of your diaper. The pressure was instant, a spark of something warm and forbidden. You bit down on your pacifier, your hips lifting just a little, seeking more.
That’s when you heard it, the soft creak of the rocking chair.
Mommy had been watching.
Her voice was sweet, almost musical, but there was a edge to it that made your stomach twist. "Aww, is my baby boy bored?" She leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees, her chin propped up in her hands. Her eyes sparkled with amusement, but her smile was knowing. Too knowing.
You froze, your hand still pressed against your diaper. You knew you weren’t supposed to touch yourself. Good boys didn’t do that. But the way she was looking at you, like she already knew exactly what you’d been doing, made your face burn.
Before you could pull your hand away, hers was there, slipping between the bars of the playpen. Her fingers curled around your wrist, not to stop you, but to guide you. "Boys don’t get to touch themselves," she murmured, her voice low and firm. "Only Mommy can touch you."
Your breath hitched. You should’ve been embarrassed. You were embarrassed. But the way her fingers replaced yours, pressing into the thick padding of your diaper, made it impossible to care. Her touch was deliberate, her palm cupping you through the layers of plastic and fluff. You whimpered, your hips jerking upward instinctively, seeking more pressure.
Mommy’s laugh was soft, almost a purr. "That’s it, baby. Let Mommy take care of you." Her fingers worked in slow, deliberate circles, her thumb pressing just there, right where you needed it most. The diaper crinkled loudly with every movement, the sound filling the quiet nursery. You could feel yourself getting harder, the pressure building until it was almost unbearable.
Your pacifier slipped from your lips as you panted, your free hand clutching at the blanket beneath you. "Mmm, someone’s very excited," Mommy teased, her voice dripping with amusement. She didn’t let up, her fingers never stilling, never giving you a moment to catch your breath. The pleasure was overwhelming, a hot, heavy weight in your groin that made your toes curl.
You tried to speak, to beg, but all that came out was a muffled, desperate sound. Your hips bucked against her hand, your body moving on its own, chasing the release that felt just out of reach. The diaper was warm now, damp from earlier, but the heat between your legs was something else entirely.
Mommy leaned closer, her breath warm against your cheek. "You gonna make a mess for Mommy, baby?" Her voice was a whisper, but it might as well have been a command. The way she said it, like she already knew the answer, sent a shiver down your spine.
And then, just like that, you were there.
Your body tensed, your back arching off the blanket as the pleasure crashed over you. A choked cry tore from your throat, the sound muffled by the pacifier you’d barely managed to shove back into your mouth. Your hips jerked, once, twice, your entire body shuddering as you spilled into your diaper. The warmth spread quickly, the padding soaking up every last bit of your release. But Mommy wasn’t done. Her fingers kept moving, kept pressing, and the pleasure didn’t stop. Your body clenched, and with a gasp, you realized…
You were going number two, too.
The heat in your belly twisted, and before you could stop it, your diaper gave a loud, wet squelch. The smell hit you immediately, thick, musky, stinky. Your face burned with humiliation, but Mommy just giggled, her fingers finally stilling.
"Looks like someone made a big mess," she cooed, her voice laced with delight. She didn’t move to clean you up. Didn’t even reach for the wipes. Instead, she simply stood, her hands on her hips as she admired her handiwork.
You lay there, panting, your diaper sagging with the weight of your mess. The warmth was unbearable, the stickiness clinging to your skin. You wanted to squirm away, to hide, but there was nowhere to go. The playpen bars were still between you and freedom.
Mommy’s smile was wicked as she reached down and scooped you up, cradling you against her chest. You were heavy in her arms, your diaper a warm, squishy burden between you. "Such a messy boy," she murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "But you’re my messy boy."
She carried you to the crib, the one with the tall, unyielding bars, and laid you down gently. The mattress was cool beneath you, a stark contrast to the heat of your diaper. You whimpered, your fingers twisting in the sheets, but Mommy just shook her head.
"No, no, baby. You made this mess. You can stay in it a little while." She tapped your nose playfully, her eyes twinkling. "Besides, it’s almost naptime. And good boys nap in their sticky diapers, don’t they?"
You wanted to argue. Wanted to beg her to change you, to clean you up, to anything but leave you like this. But the look in her eyes brooked no argument. And deep down, beneath the embarrassment, beneath the discomfort, there was something else, a warm, fuzzy feeling, like the first sip of hot cocoa on a cold day.
Mommy tucked a blanket around you, her touch lingering on your shoulder. "Sleep well, baby," she said, her voice soft. "Mommy will check on you later."
And then she was gone, the door clicking shut behind her, leaving you alone with your thoughts and your very full diaper.
🌸Three Weeks of Little Heart 🌸
💜by MassageMistressBlog💜
For years, my Tumblr had been my quiet corner—a place where I shared soft thoughts on caregiving, the comfort of thick diapers, the warmth of a bottle at bedtime, and the trust it takes to let someone truly see your little side. Messages started trickling in: shy hellos from babies scattered across the map, each one hoping for the kind of Mommy they’d only dreamed about.
I decided to make three of those dreams real—one visit per week, no more, no less. Real-life magic, carefully planned, always consensual and safe.
Week 1: Ethan in the Quiet Suburbs
Ethan was my first. Twenty-eight, software developer by day, my sweet “puppy” by night. He lived two states away, in a tidy apartment that smelled faintly of coffee and fresh laundry. When I knocked, he opened the door in footie pajamas, cheeks already flushed pink.
“Hi, Mommy,” he whispered, eyes huge.
We didn’t rush. I sat on his couch, pulled him into my lap like he weighed nothing, and rocked him while he nursed from his favorite blue bottle. He’d been so nervous about messes—he confessed he sometimes held it too long online—but that evening, when the warmth finally spread in his diaper, he buried his face in my neck and let out the tiniest, relieved sob. I changed him slowly on his bed, powder dusting the air, praising every squirm and sigh. “Such a good baby for letting go,” I murmured. By the time I left, he was asleep in fresh padding, thumb near his lips, looking smaller than ever.
Week 2: Riley in the City Loft
Riley was bolder online—lots of selfies in cute onesies, captions full of cheeky “punish me, Mommy?” energy. In person, though? Shy as a kitten. Their loft had fairy lights and a changing table tucked in the corner like a secret shrine.
We played first: blocks, tickles, silly baby talk until they dissolved into giggles. Then came the “accident.” Not really an accident—they’d asked for the “naughty baby” treatment. I scolded gently, spanked over the diaper (just enough sting to make them whine), then laid them down for the longest, most thorough change of my life. Fresh cream, a new thick diaper with little stars, and a paci to soothe the pouts. They fell into little space so deeply they babbled nonsense and clung when it was time for me to go. “Stay forever?” they mumbled around the paci. I kissed their forehead. “Mommy always comes back, sweetheart.”
Week 3: Jordan by the Coast
Jordan was the quietest online—just reblogs and heart emojis—but their messages felt the deepest. They lived in a small beach house, windows open to salt air. When I arrived, they greeted me in a soft sundress and a very soggy diaper, no words, just a hug that lasted forever.
We spent the afternoon outside on a blanket: story time (I read from a children’s book while they colored), snacks (cut-up fruit and a sippy), and eventually, a very public-but-private beachside change under a big umbrella. The waves covered their soft whimpers as I taped them into something extra crinkly. Jordan didn’t speak much that day—they didn’t need to. Their eyes said everything: gratitude, trust, peace.
Three babies. Three weeks. Three hearts that felt a little less alone.
I drove home each time with the scent of baby powder on my clothes and warmth in my chest. Tumblr can spark connections, but showing up—holding space, changing diapers, whispering “Mommy’s got you”—that’s where the real magic lives.
If you’re one of my littles reading this… know I see you. And maybe, one day, I’ll knock on your door too.
Which baby’s story made you feel the warmest fuzzies?
Reblog if you’ve ever dreamed of a Mommy visit like this… or if you’re hoping yours is next 😘
Likes & Comments always make Mommy smile extra big!
Forever your Mommy,
MassageMistressBlog 💕🍼
Reblog If you want mommy to put you in Diaper
Okay I'm about to book the accommodation. Are you sure you'll be okay on the couch? No, I mean.. are you going to bring anything to protect the couch? No I mean.. come on you know what I mean. Please don't make me spell it out. Something waterproof. In case you.. you know.. have an accident? Look, I wouldn't ask but it's my boyfriend's credit card that they'll charge if anything happens to that couch.
Please don't be difficult about this, you know exactly what I'm talking about and honestly you should be happy we're letting you stay with us at all. Okay, fine. You left your Amazon logged in on my phone a few weeks ago and I sort of peaked at your order history and it painted a pretty clear picture about a certain little bed time problem. Yeah yeah, I shouldn't have looked, but, I mean, it's kind of your fault. And I know now so there's no point denying it. Oh, really? Oh it was just a one time thing? You know it's still logged in, right? You know I can pull it up right now, right?
Okay, let's see here. Hmm. Bed wetting medication on a repeat order since 2021. You didn't think I'd know what that was, did you? Mhm, I googled it. Ultra-absorbent overnight pull-up briefs, also 2021. Not absorbent enough, apparently - looks like you switched to full on adult diapers pretty quick. Wow, you go through a lot of these. Makes me wonder why you still bother with the medication. Absorbent bed pads? Waterproof mattress protector? Oh, just for allergies though, right?. Hahaha. Oh and this one is my favorite - you paid two hundred and fifty dollars for a night time toilet training hypnosis CD just six months ago! Aw, you poor thing, I guess it doesn't work on grown ups huh, because oopsie, one month later you're back to ordering those diapers. Hey, I didn't want to do that but you insisted on being a baby about this. Ha, sorry, Freudian slip.
Now, I really want to book but I need to know that you're not going to have a problem. I need you to promise me that you'll be in diapers every night while we're there. No, I need to hear you say it. I want to be able to trust you - I don't want to have to check every night. That's better. Make sure you bring enough. I'm going to check your bag before we leave, okay? I don't want to get there and find out that you "forgot". And I think you should bring some of those pads too just in case of leaks. Well if you don't need them, why did you order a new pack literally last week? Aw, are you worried about one of the other others girls seeing the pad? Aw honey, I wouldn't worry about that. Well, the thing is.. I might have told Katie about your little problem. And I told her not to tell anyone else but then she kind of put it in the girls' group chat. So, yeah.. but don't worry, they'll all pretend they don't know.
And, yeah, obviously Jack knows. It's kind of good actually. He gets jealous and he was a bit weird about you coming with us. But when I told him that you're a bed wetter- what, what am I supposed to say? Oh I'm sorry, do you want me to use the medical term? Grow up, you're a bed wetter, you should be used to hearing it by now. Anyway, after I told him, he said it's actually good now that he doesn't have to worry about you trying anything with me or the other girls. He said it's like you're the little brother of the group now. Isn't that cute? Jack's little brother used to wet the bed too and he used to give him a hard time about it, I guess he thinks it's funny. But hey, listen, don't worry about it if he teases you a bit this weekend. It's just his sense of humor. Just, you know, don't argue with him okay? You know how he likes to be the alpha guy. I don't want you to make things weird. And, I mean, you probably don't want to antagonize him, we all know he'd kick your ass.
Aw, I know you don't like them honey. I know they're crinkly and they get hot. But I don't think that's my problem, is it? Am I a bedwetter? No? Am I the limp-dick, bedwetting loser who needed the pharmacy to order in special high capacity diapers just to keep the sheets dry? No? Then why should I be punished for your problem? I'm sorry but you just don't earn enough money for me to waste it like this. I have that trip with Jack coming up - don't you want me to have some extra spending money? Don't you think I deserve to enjoy spending some time with a real man? And all you have to do is get used to spending a little bit longer in a wet diaper each day, which, let's be honest, you should absolutely be used to by now.
Alright well if you're going to be difficult, I don't think you're getting an afternoon change today either. No, it's too late for that now. No, I think today we're going to find out how much those diapers can really hold. Stay here. Do not move. You're getting the locking pants, and I know you really don't like those.
Smiles 😊 you can DM if you need a mommy 🤠