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Mommies and Daddies
For the grown-ups to discuss ABDL topics. No babies unless you're looking for a 'pankin!
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By cute little kokiri girl · Posted
Chapter 12: After spending part of the morning playing with dollies Dolly was given a large pile of ironing to do. He did it. Half way through he again needed the bathroom. As before Jessica made him wait before sitting him on the very childish potty. Jane cooked lunch. It was quite nice. Dolly did not like that he had to drink a pint of juice and a pint of water with his meal but he had no choice. Jessica cut up her father’s food for him but he was allowed to feed himself. Just after lunch Jessica told him. “Dolly, your hair does not look good. I think we should take you to a hairdresser. Lets go..” She took her father’s hand. He suddenly realized that he was going to be taken into the street, in broad daylight, in his childish dress. He pulled back: “I WON’T go outside in a dress.” Jane then told him: “We WON’T have disobedience. Have you got something to ask?” Oliver Hill knew what he had to do. He curtsied and asked: “Dolly been VERY naughty please spank Dolly?” Jane, Ann and Jessica each spanked for former businessman. Between the spankings he spend time in the corner holding up his dress and having the tights and training panties at half-mast. At the end of the spanking Jane addressed her brother: “Now Dolly, you ARE going to go to the hairdresser. Jessica is going with you. Here is the choice. Either you can curtsey and ask Aunt Jessica to please hold your hand and take you to the hairdresser OR…” Jane opened a drawer and produced an oversized set of toddler type reins: “Aunt Jane can put you into your reins and make sure you go where you need to go.” Dolly curtsied: “Pretty please, will you hold my hand and take me to the hairdresser?” The walk was not quite as awful as Dolly had feared. He was allowed to wear a little hat and his hair was rather longer than would be traditional for a guy. Still, people assuming he was a girl, would have noticed how childish his clothes were. Jessica told the hairdresser that really cute curls were needed. Sausage curls would be nice, but it would be good if they could be put into pretty ribbon bows. Dolly sat down in the chair. He was very concerned that someone might guess the kind of underwear he had on. He sat in silence. The girls worked very slowly. After 40 minutes he was getting uncomfortable for other reasons: “Aunt Jessica, may I use the potty.” Jessica said: “Dolly’s a big girl. I think we should wait until a suitable time.” After another half an hour one of the girls who was working on the curlers said: “I think now would be a good time for Dolly go potty.” Jessica said: “I think it would be more hygienic for Dolly to go into the garden.” 8 staff at the hairdresser watched as the 36-year-old man was led out. He lifted the dress. Jessica pulled down the tights. People were surprised that such a large person still wore training panties. They then saw his tinkle thing, under the clear but strong chastity device. On Monday morning Jane called all her colleagues to a meeting. Dolly confessed all his crimes against women. Jane explained that it was best for him to be kept under control both with the chastity device and with wearing GIRL’S clothes (NOT adult women’s attire).. Jane had told Dolly which young lady to ask about using a potty. The time came when he had to ask. Michelle was only just 15. She giggled a lot. She explained: “Now Dolly, although you dress like a pretty little girl I know you have tinkle thing. We do NOT think that you should watch ladies in the bathroom so…” She slipped a blindfold over Dolly’s head. He had to let her lead him into the lady’s room and he obeyed the instruction to lift his dress. For some reason lots of the younger staff suddenly needed the bathroom. He heard a gale of giggles and the very young employee pulled down first his tights and then his training panties and guided him onto the potty. Again the actual sound of his tinkle seemed very loud. Dolly was allowed to have a tea at the tea break. Jane made sure that he drank at least two pints of fluid in total. Quite often he had to wait for an hour after the first time he asked for the potty. It got very uncomfortable. In the second week Dolly thought he had the answer. He would ask for the potty just after the tea break. By the time he was sat on the potty he needed it but was NOT in agony. He thought he was very clever. However Jane was cleverer. On Friday afternoon he asked: “Michelle, pretty please can Dolly go on the potty?” She took his hand, put his blindfold on and led him to the lady’s room “Of course you can, Dolly,” Of course Dolly could not go wee. Michelle left him sitting on the potty with tights and panties down saying: “Don’t you dare move.” Dolly got a spanking and a mouth soaping for lying about needing the potty. Jane knew that Dolly REALLY did not like tomato juice. She made him drink three pints of it out of a sippy cup. Twice that afternoon Dolly asked Michelle if he could go on the potty. Twice Michelle told him that she did not believe him. Jane held Dolly’s hand as he was walked home. As luck would have it he met Sophie and Jessica. They walked very slowly. Halfway home his bladder could no longer stand it. He soaked himself. Of course the training panties were not adequate and he made a little puddle in the street. Dolly spent the weekend in nappies. For a lot of the time he was with Molly and Elizabeth. Again her husband was on a train sorting mail. Elizabeth, now 15 month old, fed herself. Either Molly, or Jane or Sophie or Jessica spoon-fed Dolly. Again Dolly had the experience of lying next to a real baby at nappy change time. Dolly also knew that he would have to go for a whole new month without accidents before he would be allowed to use the ‘big girl potty’. Chapter 13: With occasional little additions to Dolly’s drinks he found the kept having accidents in the day. Sometimes he had three ‘accidents’ in a week. On these occasions he would be taken out of training panties and put into nappies for a day. Then before he had a full day in training panties and sitting on the potty he would again find he had wet himself and had to return to nappies. On other occasions he was allowed to get very near the whole month dry in the day so he could think he would get to wear proper big girl panties, and then, suddenly have to start the month again with a day in nappies. Of course Dolly never had a dry night. He was always put into nappies and footed pajamas with mittens between 7 and 8 pm. He was always given at least two pints of juice or formula (which had stuff to help him sleep and to stimulate his kidneys and bladder.) ******* One day something happened that might have caused a lot of problems. Angela was with her sister Melissa and Abigail in the park. Suddenly she saw Holly Parker. Now Mrs Parker was Abigail and ‘Sissy’s’ mother. She seemed to be heading home. Angela knew that when she got home Mrs Parker would see her son, in the girls’ school uniform and an apron either washing and ironing or on his knees scrubbing the kitchen of bathroom floor. Sophie would be supervising him, it being a Friday. Different girls took different turns at supervising the naughty boy. Angela was worried about what would happen. She ran to her little sister’s friend’s mother. “Mrs Parker, if you are not in a hurry I would be very pleased for you to have tea with the girls and me. There are things I need to talk to you about.” Mrs Parker was NOT in a hurry. She went into the 15 year old’s home. The tea was very nice. Mrs Parker listened to tape of the confession about the bad behavior to Abigail and also looked at the signed statement which included his attempt at seducing a girl he knew was 15. “We didn’t want him to go to jail and we did not want you to be upset.” Abigail was too exited not to tell her Mummy what was being done: “So until you get home Aunt Angela, or Aunt Mary or Aunt Jessica or Aunt Sophie make sure he wears a dress and does ALL the housework. And if he is naughty he is spanked and when he uses bad words or lies I wash his mouth out with soap.” Angela was a bit worried. “I hope you are not too upset.” Mrs Parker relieved Angela: “I am really glad someone has dealt with my son. I was worried he would end up where his father is. The trouble is that at weekends he is REALLY bad. He shouts and stamps his feet. Actually he is more like a 2 year old.” The first thought was that Mrs Parker would just turn up and see her son. He could then be told he would also be in dresses at the weekend. Mrs Parker had another thought: “So he wears a uniform like yours? ” Angela nodded. “But he is NOT as mature as you are? ” Again the now 15 year old nodded. Mrs Parker explained. “Perhaps he should be treated as more of a LITTLE girl.” Angela has spent some weekends spoon-feeding and teasing Jessica’s Daddy. “I have heard of naughty children going back into nappies.” So they talked about plans for Sissy’s 17th birthday, a week the following Saturday. They thought about redecorating Sissy’s bedroom. However they had a better idea Abigail had long wanted her room to be redecorated. The wallpaper had been chosen when she was two. Abigail had been embarrassed when Melissa saw it, even when they were both five. Then too “Sissy’s” room was much bigger than his little sister’s. Jessica worked on bars that would fit around Abigail’s bed and on a large high chair. The high chair was a bit smaller than the one her father sat in when he was in daytime nappies, but it also had straps. Ulysses was looking forward to being 17. He thought he would get more freedom. He also hoped that soon he would escape from these horrible girls making dress like a schoolgirl. Even at weekends ‘Sissy’ had schoolgirl knickers under his trousers. Abigail always checked. He knew he would be in trouble with the other girls if he did not. Just after breakfast that Saturday morning his mother told him that it was time for him to start opening his gifts He was a bit surprised when he unwrapped what seemed to be large white square towels. He really struggled but managed to say: “Thank you very much for the towels, Mother.” Then Abigail handed him a package. He was a bit shocked at what his now 11-year-old sister said, and how she addressed him in front of his mother. “Sissy, I know you don’t like wearing school girl knickers. Now you don’t have to, these go with mother’s gift.” He unwrapped his little sister’s present, which consisted of nappy pins and plastic panties. He said nothing. Then his mother asked: “Aren’t you going to say thank you to your sister for the REALLY suitable gift she got you?” Then the doorbell rang. Abigail ran to the door. In came Angela, Mary, Melissa, Jessica and Sophie. Mrs Parker then told Abigail’s friends, who all had gifts under their arms: “My son did not say thank you to his sister for his birthday present.” Jessica said: “I think that was naughty. Sissy, you know what you have to ask when you have been naughty, I think that your hairbrush is in Abigail’s room.” 17-year-old Ulysses had last been spanked by a parent, his father, and 7 years earlier. Still he went upstairs. It was a bit hard for him to curtsy properly in trousers, but he did his best. “Mother, I have been very naughty will you please spank me.” Holly Parked unbuckled her son’s belt, undid his trousers and pulled them down to his knees. Then she pulled down the navy blue knickers. Next he took his position across his mother’s knees. It took nearly half an hour of spanking to get Sissy to cry. His mother was not in practice. Sophie remarked: “I think that Sissy will find it hard to put his own nappies on. He should ask his sister.” Fearing a spanking at more experienced hands Ulysses looked at his sister and said: “Will you put me into nappies?” Abigail smiled and said: “Ask nicely and these go with your nappies.” So he had to ask: “PLEASE Abigail, will you put me into nappies and plastic panties?” He lay on the sofa. Melissa folded the nappies. She carefully folded a nappy into a kite types shape, which meant that it was double thick or thicker in some places. Then Jessica lifted his legs. Sophie undid his shoes and pulled off his trousers and knickers. Abigail slipped the nappy under his bottom. Next Abigail made sure to pin the nappy very tightly. Melissa then handed her a second nappy. The same process followed. Then a third napkin was firmly fastened. Jessica moved her hand enough so that Abigail could slip the huge pair of plastic panties over her brother’s feet. Then the panties were pulled over the nappies. Abigail took a lot of time and trouble to make sure the really bulky nappies were totally surrounded by the panties. Melissa’s first gift was pair booties that she had made. Sophie then had Sissy unwrap a gift. This was a baby dress. It was very frilly and it buttoned up at the back. The frock was also VERY short. It would not have hidden a thong. It REALLY emphasized the 17 years old’s bulky underwear. In the course of the morning Sissy was seen not only by the girls who had initially punished him for his treatment of his sister but also EVERY girl he had ever tried to talk to since he was 15. He found himself repeatedly having to curtsey and say: “Thank you very much for the baby dress.” Or, to Jessica “Thank you VERY much for making Abigail’s bed into a cot for me.” And later, again to Jessica: “Thank you very much for the High Chair… Thank you very much for the changing table.” In between this Sissy was given lots of bottles of juice and baby formula. These had additions to make wet nappies more likely. Sixteen times he had to say to various girls and ladies: “Thank you very much for the nappies, I am sure I will use them.” Abigail had chosen the kinds of baby food he would least like. The girls ate their favorite types of food, cooked by Mrs Parker whilst she, her daughter and the guests took it in turns to spoon feed him baby food which in some cases was bland and in other cases he actively hated. Just after lunch he was laid down on the changing table. He had one more shock. A color cine camera was there record the event. Better still they had hired one that had a sound track. “Has the big baby really made his nappies VERY wet?. Doesn’t baba look nice in the pretty dress?” Sissy was a bit surprised that he was put into only one nappy when he was changed just before tea. However there was a reason for this. The camera was placed at a particular angle when he was again strapped into his high chair. It caught the exact moment of his soaking his nappy. It also caught his spoon-feeding with lots of food on his bib and face. -
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By BabyJilly_S · Posted
Proper downtime is good, having just had two weeks off for my summer holidays combined with birthday this I can attest. Our company is hot on that sort of thing and generally only in emergencies would call, they like us to be refreshed and happy. In return we go the extra mile for them too... Of course I am in IT support and not sales, were I a salesman I assume keeping tabs on "hot leads" or clients that need a bit of extra care would be more a priority especially if sales are incentive based... As an aside just hit a heatwave here in the uk, been hot but is gonna be 35-40 over the next day or two, nappies are less "fun" and i have found myself going to multiple pull ups instead during the day... -
9.) The beach house was "Brixley Family" incarnate; it sat half on the sand, on top of short stubby stilted legs a few feet high, with a railed deck that looked out onto the water at the rear of the house and stairs that led down onto the beach. The outer walls had the appearance of a log cabin painted white from the outside, but it was only a facade. The interior was pretty standard. A living room, a few bedrooms, a kitchen, a bathroom; all very open plan and airy with pastel painted walls that evoked the sky and the sunset. Blossom led Mia to the door, unlocked it with a code, and then turned to leave again. "You can go inside," she said. "Check out the deck at the back too! I've gotta turn on the propane tank and power meter, so I'll be right back." "Uh, okay..." I had my backpack slung over my shoulders and the cake in my hands. I looked out at the beach; the sand was white and flat, leading up to gentle waves and a whole lot of water. The coastline was empty with the exception of a couple holding hands and walking along the water's edge. I wasn't that surprised; the sun was almost down and the weather app on my phone said it was 55 degrees. I stepped into the foyer and kicked off my shoes. The kitchen was easy to find. Actually, the whole floor plan was pretty open, with a huge glass door wall facing out onto a deck, overlooking the water. But the most interesting part about the beach house wasn't outside: it was the accent wall. It was only a few minutes before Blossom followed Mia into the beach house and she flicked a light switch on and then off to make sure it was working right, then did a discrete little fist pump that she'd gotten it right. "There's a part of me that says 'Blossom, get your things out of the car now', but a much louder part of me says, 'you're not the boss of me Blossom's internal monologue, you don't tell me what to do'." Although she wasn't sure exactly how much of that Mia had paid attention to, because she seemed totally enraptured by the Wave Wall. The Wave Wall was a large, tacky mural that took an entire wall of the living room from floor to ceiling, painted to look like a crashing wave. Blossom had loved it as a little girl, but the design goal hadn't really stood the test of time. "This is... big." The whole wall was a painting, and it was also incredibly detailed. If I hadn't been able to step up close and touch it, I might have thought it was a billboard or something. I'd obviously underestimated the wealth of Blossom's family. Though this was her uncle's place or something, right? "It sure is!" Blossom laughed. "And you can't escape it. You'll be in the bathroom trying to wash sand out from between your toes and you'll look out into the living room and wow there it is. The Wave Wall." The way that Blossom talked about the Wave Wall did make clear that she had some degree of disdain for it. "Well, uh... cake?" I held out the tray. "Right!" Blossom took it from me and set it down on the kitchen counter. I followed her, because... well, what else was I going to do? I wasn't even sure why we were here. To hang out? To be friends? Probably just to talk more about Academy Works or diapers or whatever it was two kinky college girls did. The sun was setting, but the bay faced south; it wasn't that impressive. "I should probably cut you a slice because you're clearly too baby to be allowed to use a knife, right?" Blossom winked with a friendly smile. But it was more than just a casual comment of teasing, or a gentle ribbing; it was a proper test of the waters. She didn't really know what Mia liked in person. Yes, Blossom's teasing had painted her as 'the big' but maybe Mia didn't want that. Maybe Blossom didn't want that. Maybe this would all be nothing in the end. Blossom made sure to keep her expectations open and tempered. "Oh, uh..." I felt my face get a little hot. I'd written that line like a dozen times, and I'd probably read it a dozen more, but no one had ever said it in the real world. Wait, did people actually say that in the real world? Ugh, I needed to go to more of those munch things... "I'm, um..." Not that hungry? "Sure..." Blossom grinned happily, clearly pleased with herself, and the gentle heels on her boots clicked on the tile floor of the kitchen. She leaned over to get plates from a lower cabinet and then stood up to get cutlery from the drawer. She opened the cake carrier up and tilted her head left and right as she lined up the knife, as though getting it dead center was the most important thing in the whole world. And then with a smooth elegant motion, she sliced the cake down the middle. With two more deft cleaves, she cut and served two slices of cake, then gently sucked the frosting off her thumb with a coy smile. This was so surreal. She was here with Mia Moore! I took my plate and sat down at the kitchen bar, on a little stool. It creaked a little and I suddenly felt a little self-conscious about my weight. I knew it would probably creak for Blossom too, but... well, maybe not. Blossom reached over and gave me a fork and I took a bite of the cake I'd made. A little dry; slightly overbaked. At least the frosting turned out okay. Blossom took a bite of her slice and rolled her eyes back in delight, licking the fork as she pulled it out of her lips. "Oh this is so good! I love cake so much! You should totes have an Academy story where they like kidnap the Candy with drugged cake. Or or! Where the cake just makes you baby? Or it's addictive? I'm just saying, even if I knew all that, I'd probably still eat it because I'm such a slut for cake. Of course if this were an Academy story, the cake would have to be pink." "Pink cake... yeah, I haven't done that one yet." Pink food was a recurring theme in Academy Works, and it always made the eater into a dumb, giggly baby. It was inspired a little bit by milk from another diaper story I'd read. I took another bite of cake and smiled up at Blossom. This was actually kind of nice. "I think it would probably taste like pink milk. Like that not-really-any-natural-flavor-but-we-tell-our-kids-its-strawberry kind of flavor? Like Red Velvet Cake but it's Pink Baby Cake. You can use that one, uncredited, don't worry!" Blossom had the goofiest, happiest smile on her face while she ate. She was genuine. "I know the whole 'drug that makes you act like a baby' thing is a trope, but what can I say? Gotta write what you love." Blossom finished her piece before me; if she ate cake like that, how did she stay so thin? When I was done, she took the plate from me and rinsed it in the sink along with her own. I kicked my feet. Friends with Blossom Brixley. I sure didn't see this coming. "I always love when the pink stuff comes out," Blossom said. "I totes didn't see the berries coming in K; those were awesome. Kione would have just been so much happier if she stayed blissed out on baby berries, I'm jus' sayin'." Blossom was a tall girl; it wasn't so obvious on the train or in the car, but at the college among others it was pretty clear. Here, in the beach house, it was also pretty clear. But the fact she wore boots with a small heel today - and actually really liked heels in general - was her way of owning what a lot of girls would see as a negative characteristic. She leaned over the counter and put her weight on her elbows, smiling at Mia. "So tell me what else you love about writing, Mia Moore~" "Uh..." I looked up at her and then down at the countertop. I didn't know why, but it was hard to meet her gaze when I was talking. When she talked, I could look at her just fine. "I dunno... I like the psychology of it, I guess? How do you make an adult do what you want? Obviously treat them like a baby..." That was sarcasm, but my tone didn't land that well. "So if I wanted you to tell me more about what you like, I'd have to treat you like a baby then?" Blossom put her finger and thumb on her chin like the thinking emoji and paused for dramatic effect in that pose. I blinked. Was that a joke? Obviously it didn't land either... maybe we were both off our game. "Anyway..." I brushed my hair away from my cheeks, still avoiding eye contact with Blossom. "What about you? Didn't you say you... like... haven't done the whole... baby thing before?" It wasn't common for Blossom to cause an awkward social situation, so maybe that hit her a little harder than it would most people. She pouted about it too, pursing her lips and standing back up. Maybe she was just trying too hard here. What was she expecting of all this, anyway? This was her literary idol; she had to do better if she wanted to make a good impression. What was the question? Oh. "Oh! Yeah. I've only read the stories online and gone to a few munches. It does make me feel like I'm not like a true fan sometimes." "When did you... know?" I didn't know what kind of answer I was expecting. Something recent? Maybe then I could chalk all this up to a stupid fad. Maybe some dude called her princess one too many times in the bedroom and she wound up on DailyDiapers after a night of boring internet searches and a half-bottle of wine. Or maybe she would say forever. Maybe she snuck into her little sister's crib when she was five years old, or she would steal pullups when babysitting her neighbor. The truth was, I still couldn't put Blossom Brixley in the same camp as me. We weren't anything alike; why would we share this? "That's a big question!" Blossom said. There was a lot of vulnerability tied up in that question too. Blossom knew full well that she had to be willing to give some of that up if she was going to earn the trust of her new friend. "I was in middle school, and I didn't have any friends, so I spent a lot of time online. I was always too shy to enter chat rooms or whatever because what if people asked how old I was? Or what I looked like? Or wanted me to call them, or tried to trace my computer or something; my Dad would have kicked my butt!" Blossom laughed, but it was clear that this was some pretty deep stuff for her; that this was personal. "I read a lot of forums and stuff, and sites with stories. It was usually romance stories, not even kink stuff, but I never really liked the ones where there was this traditionally pretty girl or whatever because that so wasn't me. And one day I saw this story about a girl who just never grew up. Like, she got older, but she didn't grow up, and people loved her for it. She had binkies, and wore and used diapers, and she had a biiiig crib and a Nanny and it was just... I wanted that! And the girl in the story wasn't the prettiest girl in the world, and I thought hey Blossom maybe that could be you. Maybe you're more of a Bubbles, did you think of that? Then it kind of spiraled from there." The Powerpuff Girls reference wasn't lost on me, and... weirdly enough, it was kind of poignant. Blossom was the leader, the one who always had to keep cool and make everything okay. Literally, since she got ice powers or something. Bubbles was the baby of the group. Everyone always treated her like a kid, and... well, she kind of acted like one too. I mean, there was that one episode where she threw a tantrum about being too cute, but even that was kind of cute. "You didn't have a lot of friends in middle school?" I asked. She sure had a lot of friends in high school, but I didn't know Blossom before then. We went to different middle schools. "Not at all! I was a kind of shy, awkward, tall girl that nobody really wanted to be friends with. Everyone else got hit with the puberty stick and I was just this flat chested muppet with braces whose Dad would plait her hair every morning, because bless his soul he sure did his best. I had these glasses too, and I really liked them because they were pink but they did not look good. Back then I didn't really care though." Oddly enough, Blossom seemed more comfortable talking about that part of her life than the fact that she had looked up pervy stories at the same time. "Ah, so I'm basically middle school you, minus the dad." I mean, I didn't have braces and my glasses weren't pink, but enough of the parallel lined up. I laughed at my own joke, but Blossom didn't. "Middle School Blossom would have given anything to be you, Mia. You're curvy, you're talented, you have people who want to see your creations, and you're so much prettier than I think you think." A girl like Blossom, tempered in the fires of high school drama and shallow expectations of image-is-everything, didn't need to lie about that. Heck, she probably didn't even know how to lie about that. And in high school, she'd been the kind of girl who'd been a bitch to people who were less pretty than she was. She wasn't proud of it, but it had been known to happen. "Uh... thanks..." Blossom's earnest tone was really not what I expected. I looked down at my lap and played with my fingers. My face felt hot. I didn't understand how someone like her could find someone like me pretty... Blossom smiled and bit the corner of her lip as she winked - Blossom was a winker - and then got back on track with the important stuff. "So, Mia Moore, I've told you my Baby Girl Origin Story, so now it's your turn to spill! Do you wanna go sit on the deck with me? Watch the water while we talk?" "Uh... alright." -
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