Mistmane56 - DoubleDiaperedthem17

My favorite things to here

🍼" You’re Too Little To… “🍼

” Aw, baby. You’re too little to use the grown-up potty. Sit on my lap, relax, and go potty in your diapee/pull-up. I’ll help you if you need it. “

” Do you need to go potty? Oh no, you’re too little to use the grown-up potty. I’ll take you to your little potty chair. “

” Let me cut your food up for you, sweetheart. You’re too little for such big bites. You could choke! “

” Here’s your bottle, baby… lay in my lap, you’re too little to drink it yourself. We don’t want it to spill on your clothes, do we? Let me hold it for you. Just put your hands on your tummy and relax~. “

” Uh-uh-uh! Those are adult clothes! You’re much too little for those! Let’s get you in a snug diaper/pull-up–after all, we don’t want you having an accident in big kid clothes~. Stains are hard to get out. We’ll find you more age-appropriate clothes too. “

” Uh-oh, did someone make piddles in their diaper/pull-up? Aw, don’t cry. You’re too little to know when you have to go potty. Let’s get you cleaned up. “

” Nap time, baby~. What’s that? You’re not sleepy? Don’t be silly, you’re too little to go without a nap, you’ll turn into a fussypants. “

” You know the rules; you hold my hand when we’re out. You’re too little to wander around by yourself. You stay by my side at all times. Or do I need to put you in a stroller? “

” Oh no, baby. The public bathrooms are for adults. You’re too little for those. Just go in your diapee/pull-up, and I’ll change you as soon as we get back to the car. “

” You’re too little to check yourself to see if you’re wet or messy. That’s my job~. And no, you can’t change yourself. “

” In the back seat, let me buckle you in nice and safely. Of course I’m using the child-locks. What’s that? You wanna sit in the front? Nuh-uh, you’re too little! “

” Oh, you silly baby! You’re too little to dress/undress yourself! Let me help you. “

” I bought you a nice, big playpen to put you in, so I can keep an eye on you. You’re too little to wander around the house without my supervision! You could get into things you’re not supposed to. “

It should be the law that parents are not allowed to potty train their children until they are 18 and consent to it

“I really don’t know what you see in that clown.” You regretted the words before you were even finished saying them. You wished you could grab them out the the air and stuff them back in your mouth. You didn’t need to wait for a reaction from your best friend since college, you knew each other well enough to read the look on her face. It didn’t help that she’d prefaced the lunch invitation by saying she had “big news” and was very clearly wearing a new ring on her left hand, though the topic hadn’t come up yet.

All the same, you felt your assessment was accurate. After all, you were the one who’d been dutifully sitting through her countless venting sessions about how her excessively outgoing boyfriend was constantly dragging her on “fun” dates in matching outfits to amusement parks, garishly themed novelty restaurants and any circus, magic show or fair that was happening less than two counties over. She didn’t need to tell you that she’d rather just stay home, chill and indulge in the introversion that’d you’d originally bonded over - you two shared a silent understanding that went deep enough to intuit that much.

You’ve never really understood why, but for as long as you’ve known each other, it’s the only kind of guy you’ve seen her go after - boisterous, outgoing and aggressively friendly men who’re just looking to settle down and raise a family. Sadly, you checked none of those boxes. You’d always been naturally shy and overly self-conscious, seemingly doing your best not to draw too much attention in life. All the same, you’d made more than a few failed attempts at making this more than a friendship over the years, only to be gently reminded that she just doesn’t "think of you that way.”

It was a shame - you really thought she could be the one to help you get past the overwhelming diaper fetish that had completely supplanted any interest in standard sex your whole life. You’d tried plenty of times to get into something more traditional, but all attempts so far had failed - some quite spectacularly. You told yourself that you just needed the right person to guide you, someone you could confess your unusual desires to and incorporate them until you got comfortable without them. You knew it was a pipe-dream, just something reassuring you’d tell yourself after another long session of scrolling through endless images of heavily padded men acting like giant toddlers, but it was hard to shake the pressure you felt to be more “normal” when comparing your love life to others.

A lifetime of hiding your childish cravings had left you uncomfortable with even the slightest hint of perceivable immaturity, and the distain you felt for your friend's lover was no doubt linked to a subconscious envy of his obliviousness to how much cringe-inducing attention he brought to himself in public, and how everyone seemed perfectly okay with it. You didn’t want to admit that you envied him, so it was easier to label him a “clown.”

“Hey kiddo, that’s no way to talk about your Daddy.” A familiar voice sprung up from the restaurant booth behind you, though with a firm and chastising tone you’d never heard before.

“Ugh, Sweetie, I thought we agreed that we were going to ease into this…” your friend said like she was looking right through you.

“I know, I know honey, but sometimes you just gotta jump into the pool!” the less than anonymous voice of her future husband replied.

“Okay, confession time.” Your best friend said while giving a stare that told you it was time to lock into every word that was about to come out of her mouth.

“If you think I haven’t been graciously putting up with your criticisms about my choice of partners for longer than I care to think about, baby-boy, you’ve got another thing coming. In spite of that, I’ve been out here looking for the best damn Daddy that this city has to offer for a long time now, and I won’t sit here and listen to my lil’ guy disrespects the father figure I’ve chosen for him! Please don’t think I don’t love you, sugar-plum, but a good Mommy knows not to put the cart before the horse!”

Suddenly, you felt a deeply painful pinch in your right ear. “I appreciate the history lesson, babe, but I think it’s time for a little less conversation and a little more action.” You followed the hand that seemed inescapably linked to your earlobe as it lifted you up out of the booth, past the kitchen and into the restaurant’s intimately small men’s room.

Effortlessly opening the latch on the baby chaining table with one finger, and letting it land with a heavy *thud* that was certainly not unnoticed by the occupant of the nearby stall, the man herby known as “Daddy” thrust you onto the molded plastic slab and undid your pants. “Well, I’ll give you an A for effort, Buster, but looks like we had a little accident. Did Daddy surprise you?" He poked at the notably damp Goodnite XXLs drooping between your legs. "Or did my sweet-pea just want to give me a sneak-preview of things to come?” He slid the soggy "underwear" down your quivering legs and opened the large bag on his hip.

“Sorry, small-fry, but I’ve got to check for myself.” He said before popping open a small bottle and squeezing a glistening substance into his hand. Despite his vigorous efforts, you remained limp and unaffected by the experience. “So far, so good. Okay, time for the real test.” He smirked, aggressively pulling a baby-print adult diaper from the bag and slowly unfurling it, meticulously fluffing it up and working out every possible “pop” it's plastic backing had to offer.

In no short order, and with no need for psychical manipulation, your little soldier was standing at full attention. “Aww, just as advertised!” He gave your throbbing manhood a quick, strangely platonic smooch that had a notable sense of paternal pride that you weren't sure how to react to.

“Oh, my foolish little clown..." he beamed before giving you a hard swat on the bottom "I'm going to have a LOT of fun with you!”

Now, you spend your weekdays indulging in your introversion while watching Bluey and snuggling with Mommy on the couch - trying your best not to think about the upcoming weekend with Daddy. Yet another weekend of singing silly songs on the way to hold hands at the grocery store, another weekend of getting your diaper changed in the movie theater bathroom, another weekend where you're told "It's okay, stinker, everyone gets to know..." when fielding deeply embarrassing questions about your lifestyle from perfect strangers in your stroller while wearing colorful matching outfits at amusements parks, theme restaurants and every circus, magic show or fair that your new Papa can find!

Reblog if you want  ‘Diaper Checks’ or ‘Stop, Drop, and Potty’ asks

*Make sure your anonymous asks are on* Diaper Checks: -Anyone can send one at any time -If you get an ask that says “Diaper check!” or similar, you must reblog with the status of your pants or diaper, no cheating and no exceptions. Alternatively, If you get an ask that says “Stop, Drop, and Potty” you must go to the bathroom in whatever you are wearing the moment you see the message, as you would with a CG.  This is harder than it sounds! Only for wearers up to the challenge and the embarassment!

I want someone to put apple screen time on my phone so I can’t look at adult things anymore🥺🥺

Hey everyone! It was requested that I make a video of me saying my daily diaper/baby cuck affirmations (along with the ones suggested by y’all). I hope you enjoy it! It certainly made me very squirmy to say all this out loud ☺️

After the game, there is nothing better than sharing some Sock Play with a Buddy!

New York

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Diapered

Answer and Reblog To Find Mommy In Your Location

Where are you from?

What is your baby age ?

How do you love to be taken care of?

Answer and reblog , Someone from your location will definitely find you 😊

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Antworten und reloggen Sie, um Mama an Ihrem Standort zu finden

Woher kommst du?

Wie alt ist Ihr Baby?

Wie liebst du es, umsorgt zu werden?

Antworten und rebloggen. Jemand von Ihrem Standort wird Sie auf jeden Fall finden😊