KP's Playground

Where your silly, dark little fantasies can come to life... 18+ only, minors DNI!

[thekinkyplayground]

Forgetful

Penny's adorable brown eyes are fluttering, as she sits on a training potty in front of the television, watching the evening's third episode of "Peppa Pig." The poor girl forgot to remove her diaper before using the potty, which, while annoying, also is sadly not uncommon in this house anymore. It's funny- the girl can remember all the characters and plot devices of a British television show about anthropomorphic pigs and their animal friends and recite them ad nauseum while I attempt to feed her, but somehow, removing her Huggies before using the loo was simply beyond her. Go figure. I sigh, approaching with a fresh diaper in my hand. "Sweetie?" I ask, bracing myself internally for the battle about to follow. "Wha, Dada..." She mumbles, still entranced by the show, thumb in mouth. "It's night-night time, sweetie." Now I've got her attention. The woman-turned-toddler looks up at me, a look of fear and indignance on her face. She turned her head so fast that one of her brown pigtails brushes her cheek. "But daddy.... I wanna watch Peppa!" "Penny, no. You've already watched three whole episodes. It's time to get you changed and off to beddy-bye. You know how you get when you're tired." My baby girl is a supremely adorable one, but also prone to incidents of brattiness. "Daddy... stop..." My baby girl stands up, now facing me. It's an adorable sight, the woman wearing a Frozen t-shirt and a big white and purple diaper swinging pendulously between her legs, full of pee-pees, especially given what she's about to say to me next- "I dun wanna weaw diapees anymowe..." "Baby, your diaper is soaked right now. You need them." I seize her wrist, hearing a soft whimper. "Now, come on, before I put you in the corner for disobeying." "Daddy... noooooo..."My baby girl is now crying as I lead her over to the changing table. The poor thing. I set her up on the table, laying her down and removing her diaper. "Pwease Daddy, dis embawwassin! I alweady went potty!" "Baby girl..." I begin wiping her crotch, cooing at her all the while. "You did so good trying to go potty for me, but..."

"T-trying?" She asks. Poor girl probably didn't even notice. Her object permanence and her knowledge of proper potty protocol has been absolutely wrecked. "You have to take your diaper off before going potty, honey." The girl's eyes, moist with fresh, hot tears, open wide. "What?" She asks, in disbelief, as I tape a new diaper on. The error of her ways is setting in, as a fresh wave of humiliation causes her to cover her face with her eyes. "N-no! Come ON!" "Sorry, baby." I finish taping the new diaper on, hoisting the petite girl onto my hip like a real toddler. "I'm sure you'll get the hang of it someday." I'm lying, of course. I know for a fact that deep down, despite the embarrassment and shame, she doesn't want to "get the hang of it" and I don't want her to. "O-okay, Daddy..." She sniffles, as I pull her in close and bring her to her room. "Daddy... can I sweep wif you tonight?" She asks. My baby girl has tried this so many times that I could practically recite the conversation ad verbatim. It's like a script we both read from, playing a part in a nightly play for an audience of stuffies. "Baby, where do little girls sleep?" I ask, in the same tired yet inquisitive tone from last night. "In- in deir cribs..." She disappointedly replies. "Why, honey?" I ask, knowing the answer as well as she does. "Be-cuz... Daddy mean." Ooh, a new twist. "Penny..." I call, in a warning tone, setting her on a beanbag chair and lowering the bars of her crib. "Why do babies sleep in cribs?" "Daddy!" She whines, indignantly. "Imma widdle giwl, nodda baby!"

"Okay, then, sweetie, why do little girls sleep in cribs?" I ask, in a tone that borders on mocking. "Cuz, Daddy wants to keep dem safe." Finally, the right answer. I ruffle her brown hair, causing her to giggle. I love her laugh. It's so bubbly and cute. "Good little girl." I smile, handing her a stuffie. It's a unicorn, a well-loved off-white thing with a sparkly purple mane and a glittery horn. Getting the bottle on her nightstand, filled with milk, I lay her down, draping a soft "b'anky" on her crinkly, diapered hips, and then kissing her on the forehead. I give her a baba as I shut off the light, an Ariel night-light offering the only light in the room. "I wuv'ou, Daddy..." The girl's soft brown eyes flutter once again, this time closing. "I love you too, baby girl." I whisper, closing the door and allowing my baby girl to drift off to dreamland and forget all of her cares and worries.

[thekinkyplayground]

Chain Letter: Connor

Connor, a black-haired man of 21, is crawling around on the floor of my living room, wearing naught but a sky-blue tee shirt and a heavily dampened diaper. He's making car noises with his mouth, pushing a small wooden car allllll around my coffee table like it's the track of the Daytona 500. It's an adorable sight, really.

Believe it or not, when we met, this handsome young lad wasn't wearing diapers at all, or making funny sounds with his mouth, or crawling. He was an incredible boyfriend- a banker who told jokes, knew all the trendy bands in the area, and was a fantastic lover. Always dominant, such a masculine man's man.

Of course, some things haven't changed. He still tells jokes. Granted, many of them aren't funny unless you've seen the episode of Paw Patrol that he, uh, borrowed them from, but he's a good baby that likes to make Mommy laugh. And laugh I do, although it's more at the fact he's fallen sooooo far from the man he used to be.

He knows a few trendy bands, though none of them appealing to anyone not his "age"- he's a big fan of Cocomelon, The Wiggles, and whoever does the Baby Shark song. He loves Baby Shark, as do his little friends.

I remember the first day he acted... like this. It's been about a year since that day- I came home to find my little man sitting at the table, laptop open, and a video of a swirl. An annoying chain email from a work friend we hadn't seen in a few days, and sent itself to three random contacts. I'd heard about a strange chain email supposedly having odd effects, I just didn't know my boyfriend would open it, get his mind effectively softlocked, and get sent back to diapers. He was just sitting there, dazed, his pants long-since pissed and the piss long-since cooled. All he could do was just act like the cutest little baby boy for me- my baby called me "Mommy" and from that day on, our relationship has taken a decidedly different dynamic. Bubble baths, a nightly feast of Mac 'n Cheese and dino nuggies, and diaper changes galore for my little man.

The police tried everything to trace its origins. No luck- no doctor could undo the hypnosis the video contained. He's stuck like this. And I wouldn't have it any other way.

I pat my little racer on the bottom, a soft crinkle coming from his padded tush, as I grab the folded-up diaper and bag of baby wipes from the coffee table that my overgrown toddler has been faithfully orbiting at various crawling speeds for about 20 minutes now.

"Alright, Speed Racer, lay down for me- it's time for Mommy to change you!"

[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.

[thekinkyplayground]

Forgetful

Penny's adorable brown eyes are fluttering, as she sits on a training potty in front of the television, watching the evening's third episode of "Peppa Pig." The poor girl forgot to remove her diaper before using the potty, which, while annoying, also is sadly not uncommon in this house anymore. It's funny- the girl can remember all the characters and plot devices of a British television show about anthropomorphic pigs and their animal friends and recite them ad nauseum while I attempt to feed her, but somehow, removing her Huggies before using the loo was simply beyond her. Go figure. I sigh, approaching with a fresh diaper in my hand. "Sweetie?" I ask, bracing myself internally for the battle about to follow. "Wha, Dada..." She mumbles, still entranced by the show, thumb in mouth. "It's night-night time, sweetie." Now I've got her attention. The woman-turned-toddler looks up at me, a look of fear and indignance on her face. She turned her head so fast that one of her brown pigtails brushes her cheek. "But daddy.... I wanna watch Peppa!" "Penny, no. You've already watched three whole episodes. It's time to get you changed and off to beddy-bye. You know how you get when you're tired." My baby girl is a supremely adorable one, but also prone to incidents of brattiness. "Daddy... stop..." My baby girl stands up, now facing me. It's an adorable sight, the woman wearing a Frozen t-shirt and a big white and purple diaper swinging pendulously between her legs, full of pee-pees, especially given what she's about to say to me next- "I dun wanna weaw diapees anymowe..." "Baby, your diaper is soaked right now. You need them." I seize her wrist, hearing a soft whimper. "Now, come on, before I put you in the corner for disobeying." "Daddy... noooooo..."My baby girl is now crying as I lead her over to the changing table. The poor thing. I set her up on the table, laying her down and removing her diaper. "Pwease Daddy, dis embawwassin! I alweady went potty!" "Baby girl..." I begin wiping her crotch, cooing at her all the while. "You did so good trying to go potty for me, but..."

"T-trying?" She asks. Poor girl probably didn't even notice. Her object permanence and her knowledge of proper potty protocol has been absolutely wrecked. "You have to take your diaper off before going potty, honey." The girl's eyes, moist with fresh, hot tears, open wide. "What?" She asks, in disbelief, as I tape a new diaper on. The error of her ways is setting in, as a fresh wave of humiliation causes her to cover her face with her eyes. "N-no! Come ON!" "Sorry, baby." I finish taping the new diaper on, hoisting the petite girl onto my hip like a real toddler. "I'm sure you'll get the hang of it someday." I'm lying, of course. I know for a fact that deep down, despite the embarrassment and shame, she doesn't want to "get the hang of it" and I don't want her to. "O-okay, Daddy..." She sniffles, as I pull her in close and bring her to her room. "Daddy... can I sweep wif you tonight?" She asks. My baby girl has tried this so many times that I could practically recite the conversation ad verbatim. It's like a script we both read from, playing a part in a nightly play for an audience of stuffies. "Baby, where do little girls sleep?" I ask, in the same tired yet inquisitive tone from last night. "In- in deir cribs..." She disappointedly replies. "Why, honey?" I ask, knowing the answer as well as she does. "Be-cuz... Daddy mean." Ooh, a new twist. "Penny..." I call, in a warning tone, setting her on a beanbag chair and lowering the bars of her crib. "Why do babies sleep in cribs?" "Daddy!" She whines, indignantly. "Imma widdle giwl, nodda baby!"

"Okay, then, sweetie, why do little girls sleep in cribs?" I ask, in a tone that borders on mocking. "Cuz, Daddy wants to keep dem safe." Finally, the right answer. I ruffle her brown hair, causing her to giggle. I love her laugh. It's so bubbly and cute. "Good little girl." I smile, handing her a stuffie. It's a unicorn, a well-loved off-white thing with a sparkly purple mane and a glittery horn. Getting the bottle on her nightstand, filled with milk, I lay her down, draping a soft "b'anky" on her crinkly, diapered hips, and then kissing her on the forehead. I give her a baba as I shut off the light, an Ariel night-light offering the only light in the room. "I wuv'ou, Daddy..." The girl's soft brown eyes flutter once again, this time closing. "I love you too, baby girl." I whisper, closing the door and allowing my baby girl to drift off to dreamland and forget all of her cares and worries.

[thekinkyplayground]

Normalize cuddling with her. She's already going through a lot- it's hard being forcibly regressed allllll the way to babyhood. To be told that all the progress she's made over the years is gone, and that her life is getting reverted all the way back to the way it was when she was 2- it's hard. So, if you're going to force her into thick, babyish diapers, take away all her autonomy, and treat her like a mindless little one, the least you could do is grab a blankie, a baba for her, snuggle up with her on the couch, and make her as comfortable as she can be. In time she'll realize that she, and you, made the right decision

[cryalaxsiaa]

she’s a ten but she’s attached to you as if she’s your toddler instead of your girlfriend

[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.

[thekinkyplayground]

Love

When your sub lays in her crib... looking up at you with all of the gentle trust a human being can manage... When your baby girl gets so deep into littlespace that she can barely speak yet still babbles "I wuv you, Dada..." When you lovingly change her wet diaper, softly humming her favorite songs to her as she smiles behind her pacifier... It's not a kink anymore. It's just... love. And love is beautiful.

[thekinkyplayground]

Toilet Seat

Every morning, you used to get on me about leaving the toilet seat up.

The irony is delicious, I think to myself, that now you're standing in a pair of dampened training pants, sniffling and holding back a floodgate of tears because for whatever reason, you couldn't get the totally-not-at-all-fingerprint-activated lock I placed on the toilet, free in time. The three little stars on the front of your padding have long faded... much like your potty training over time.

You tried and tried to lift it, but for whatever reason, ever since you began listening to those sleep tapes, it's been harder to hold those peepees, hasn't it? Here you are, a 32-year-old defense attorney, crying in the bathroom like you're 2 and a half because you had yet another accident.

Of course... we all know that this accident means something special, doesn't it? I already see your tear-filled eyes looking on in horror, silently pleading at me just at the mere glimpse of what I'm holding. You were a lawyer... surely you know what an "agreement" is, and surely you remember ours.

Three accidents... and it's back to diapers. And the Minnie Mouse Pull-up between your legs makes 3. Three strikes, and you're out, princess.

Lie down, honey. This will only take a minute. I won't keep score of these- something tells me you'll need these for a very long time, and who am I to begrudge you? Aww, there, there, it's okay, baby girl. Daddy's got you.

Now don't you wish I left that damned toilet seat up?

[thekinkyplayground]

You finally got to shoot your shot with me. And from where you were standing, it looked like a slam dunk, didn't it? Let's be fully clear- I see why. Every boy's dream is to get with the hot, dominant goth girl. I bet you had vivid fantasies of my Doc Martens walking all over you before you disrobed me from my black jacket and MCR graphic tee to get a look at the pale specimen underneath. I bet you anticipated me taking my rings and chains off my left hand, spitting on it, and using it on you, bringing my new little pet to climax, somehow curing your deep, deep-seated Mommy issues. And, for the most part, you got your wish. Granted, you were super weirded out by how strong I was. Most goth girls don't really work out much. I do. I could tell you were surprised when I pushed you onto the bed and began removing your clothes. I loved the little look of surprise on your cute little face- you really thought this was going to go the other way. Didn't cha? But you had that secret weapon- the little thing that had always worked on women before. I wear a lot of makeup to appear paler, but if I put my entire supply on your face, it wouldn't cover the massive, radiating blush that came over it when I began laughing at... whatever the fuck you whipped out in a last-ditch effort to... impress...me? Namely, your tiny little cock. "What... the fuck... is that?" I asked, much to your surprise and embarrassment. I even flicked the flaccid little noodle you claimed had been "bigger before." "This is what you call a "massive cock?" This thing belongs in a fucking diaper."

You tried to stand up, to protest, to fight back, to do anything, but I just chuckle. This, after all, is what you wanted. To be dominated. To be ruled over. Right? Surely you didn't just think "Goth" meant "Manic Pixie Dream Girl, but wearing black"... right? Nobody's THAT aloof. Right? "Sit down, babyboy." I pushed you back down. "You're not leaving 'til Mommy Lynne has you allllll diapered up." I unfold a large, white diaper, and pin your wrist to the bed. "Mommy's little baaaaaby..." I whisper, kissing your forehead, and your cheek, and your nose, and giving little smooches everywhere, which seem to calm you down. I tape the diaper on, much to your chagrin, but the kisses in your face more than make up for it, as I blow a ring of vape cloud in your face, and begin kissing your neck and cheeks. I bet with the cloud I just blew in your face, you can't see much of anything, your eyes stinging a bit, for sure, but I know with the blush that returned to those adorable little cheeks, you DID see my phone get whipped out and a picture get taken. Oops! I'm a bit of an artiste, if you will. I love photographing my work. You just won't shut up, will you? Jeez, blubbering apologies and explanations. It's not cold in here. It's like 68 degrees. Finally, I've heard enough, and mid-ramble, I push a pacifier in your mouth, using alllll my mighty girl-strength to keep it in. "Uh oh... where's mommy's hand going? I reach into the front of your diaper, using two fingers and a thumb to massage your little earthworm. Yeah, I like that. Earthworm. The bliss doesn't last long- was any woman ever okay with how little time it takes you to cum? I'm straddling you, with my phone out- it took 1 minute, approximately. After getting the glorious release you believe you're owed, you take out the big pacifier in your mouth and try to make an excuse yet again, that you're hungry and have to go. Hungry. Yeah, I've heard that one before. You barely have time to register before I lift your head up and bring it to my left tit, pressing your mouth up against it. I'm naturally left-handed, but I couldn't use my right tit. It's pierced. That would be yucky-ducky for my baby boy. And, pathetically, much like a baby, you begin to grow sleepy, the world growing dimmer with each suck. Sweet dreams, little baby boy, hope it was everything you wanted and more.

[thekinkyplayground]

You finally got to shoot your shot with me. And from where you were standing, it looked like a slam dunk, didn't it? Let's be fully clear- I see why. Every boy's dream is to get with the hot, dominant goth girl. I bet you had vivid fantasies of my Doc Martens walking all over you before you disrobed me from my black jacket and MCR graphic tee to get a look at the pale specimen underneath. I bet you anticipated me taking my rings and chains off my left hand, spitting on it, and using it on you, bringing my new little pet to climax, somehow curing your deep, deep-seated Mommy issues. And, for the most part, you got your wish. Granted, you were super weirded out by how strong I was. Most goth girls don't really work out much. I do. I could tell you were surprised when I pushed you onto the bed and began removing your clothes. I loved the little look of surprise on your cute little face- you really thought this was going to go the other way. Didn't cha? But you had that secret weapon- the little thing that had always worked on women before. I wear a lot of makeup to appear paler, but if I put my entire supply on your face, it wouldn't cover the massive, radiating blush that came over it when I began laughing at... whatever the fuck you whipped out in a last-ditch effort to... impress...me? Namely, your tiny little cock. "What... the fuck... is that?" I asked, much to your surprise and embarrassment. I even flicked the flaccid little noodle you claimed had been "bigger before." "This is what you call a "massive cock?" This thing belongs in a fucking diaper."

You tried to stand up, to protest, to fight back, to do anything, but I just chuckle. This, after all, is what you wanted. To be dominated. To be ruled over. Right? "Sit down, babyboy." I pushed you back down. "You're not leaving 'til Mommy Lynne has you allllll diapered up." I unfold a large, white diaper, and pin your wrist to the bed. "Mommy's little baaaaaby..." I whisper, kissing your forehead, and your cheek, and your nose, and giving little smooches everywhere, which seem to calm you down. I tape the diaper on, much to your chagrin, but the kisses in your face more than make up for it, as I blow a ring of vape cloud in your face, and begin kissing your neck and cheeks. I bet with the cloud I just blew in your face, you can't see much of anything, your eyes stinging a bit, for sure, but I know with the blush that returned to those adorable little cheeks, you DID see my phone get whipped out and a picture get taken. Oops! I'm a bit of an artiste, if you will. I love photographing my work. You just won't shut up, will you? Jeez, blubbering apologies and explanations. It's not cold in here. It's like 68 degrees. Finally, I've heard enough, and mid-ramble, I push a pacifier in your mouth, using alllll my mighty girl-strength to keep it in. "Uh oh... where's mommy's hand going? I reach into the front of your diaper, using two fingers and a thumb to massage your little earthworm. Yeah, I like that. Earthworm. The bliss doesn't last long- was any woman ever okay with how little time it takes you to cum? I'm straddling you, with my phone out- it took 1 minute, approximately. After getting the glorious release you believe you're owed, you take out the big pacifier in your mouth and try to make an excuse yet again, that you're hungry and have to go. Hungry. Yeah, I've heard that one before. You barely have time to register before I lift your head up and bring it to my left tit, pressing your mouth up against it. I'm naturally left-handed, but I couldn't use my right tit. It's pierced. That would be yucky-ducky for my baby boy. And, pathetically, much like a baby, you begin to grow sleepy, the world growing dimmer with each suck. Sweet dreams, little baby boy, hope it was everything you wanted and more. Can't wait to introduce you to Mommy Erin later!

[thekinkyplayground]

You're so pathetic...

Most people, well, most grown-up people, would drink their beverages in a mug or a glass- maybe a glass bottle or a shot glass for alcohol. Of course, the words "grown up" certainly don't describe you anymore, as you stand in a soaked pink diaper begging for me to put juice in your rubber-teated bottle instead of your usual formula. You know, of course, that you'll lose this battle of wills, but it's always fantastic to watch just how degraded and pathetic you've become- begging for something you can easily just get. Baby.

[thekinkyplayground]

I love the way Daddy talks to me.

He tells me every day what a dumb, drooling diaper dolly I am. He rubs my ass, runs his fingers over the surface of my big, white diaper, and tickles me.

The way he kisses me, rubs my kitty through my diaper, whispering to me how much he loves me and reminds me how lucky I am to have Daddy. Before Daddy... I don't really remember. I just remember being sad all the time... and busy doing stuff. But anything before Daddy doesn't matter now. He told me so. He told me that I didn't have to think anymore about anything! He took my old "lie-sInce" and my "mun-knee" and said I don't have to worry about them. I think Daddy makes up words sometimes. He told me he cancelled my "a-part-mint" and used "hip-know-sis" on me, which doesn't even make any sense. He also tells me how he apparently washed my brain. I must've been asleep when he did that, cuz' I don't remember that part. But that's the point, Daddy tells me. I don't have to, because I'm just a big, dumb baby! Thanks Daddy! I'll make sure to be extra good when he has "special time" with the new woman he brought home!

[thekinkyplayground]

If you're happy and you know it Clap your hands! If you're happy and you know it Clap your hands! If you're happy and you know it, then your face will surely show it So if you're happy and you know it Clap your hands!

The track continued, as Abigail Browne kept listening, nervously chewing on her nails. The strident feminist was strangely taken with this rendition of "Happy and you know it" despite it being, in her own words a few moments ago, a "stupid baby song."

If you're a baby and you know it Suck your thumb Cause it's time for baby to get Nice and dumb If you gotta do a wee, then you'll do it like you're three With a diaper on your precious little bum!

Abigail furrowed her brow. Something- something about this track was wrong... she just couldn't stop listening now, deciding to do as the song commanded and placed not just the nail, but her entire thumb in her mouth. It's a good thing the song was there to remind her to use her diaper, as she was, for some reason, thinking about using the grown-up potty.

Now more at ease and malleable, she kept listening, as the song began its next stanza.

If you're a baby and you know it Crawl around Get your knees and your hands on the ground Now you're not allowed to walk Only barely can you talk Your big kid brain's been sent to lost and found!

[thekinkyplayground]

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If you like silly stories about diapergirls and diaperboys, check out my DA page.

[thekinkyplayground]

You're so pathetic. Just a year ago today, you walked into the study to order me to stop the hypnosis tapes- telling me you're a "strong independent woman" and "not a little baby to be controlled or guided" You told me that you were done "playing this silly baby game" and that you were a "grownup" But now... your angry protests have turned into soft whines, you stand in the same doorway, eyes wet with fresh tears, your cheeks red with shame and humiliation. "Daddy..." you whine, getting my attention. "Can... can I pweese haf' a changie? I... I hadda accident..."