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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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Welcome back Michelle! I've also been away for a while. David, 4, in overalls and a t-shirt, with Loony-Toons socks. He needs his soggy Pampers 6 Cruiser changed. -
The wife was born and raised in Emporia so yes we know Bobby D's. We actually do all our food shopping in Emporia as there's an Aldis and a Walmart right beside it. Did you stop at the National Tallgrass Prarie Preserve? They have a herd of wild bison there with walking trails you can use to walk among them. Hugs, Freta -
By Snugglebear_69 · Posted
I liked what I was seeing until I saw cloth backed then went, nope. My Daddy's favourite diaper to put me in is Tiny Tales so that's our go to. -
Chapter 28 - Ticket to Babyland (revised) Wheeling the pram through the house and into the sitting room Amanda Featherstone felt like a Mom with a newborn. It had been some time since she had last been asked to care for a baby this small. Her last charge had been an older toddler. The girl had been close to being potty trained on arrival but fully diaper dependant when she left four months later. Being an emergency carer was one thing, doing months of potty training was another. She had been through all of that with her own kids, puddles on the kitchen floor, carpets that had been peed on and poop painting in the crib during nap time. Four rounds of that was enough, it wasn’t something she was prepared to do again, ever. That meant any of her temporary charges who were not fully potty trained or who had had a daytime accident found themselves promptly back in diapers. Diapers contained the accidents, keep her furniture and floors dry and maintained her sanity. Changing diapers was far easier than constantly cleaning up puddles and changing wet clothes. Little Katie had tested her at first, yelling, screaming, fighting and physically resisting her efforts,but she was the adult and she had persisted with diapering the girl. Her position on that was clear, there were to be no exceptions, wet pants would not be tolerated. Katie was still a little girl in her eyes, still a toddler, and toddlers who wet their pants were put back in diapers. There were tears, lots of tears, tantrums and stamping of feet. Through it all she smiled, the little girl in a diaper, baby pants and a short sundress that stamped her feet as she toddled across the kitchen to the door to the backyard put on a show did nothing to advance her argument that she was a big girl now. All she succeeded in doing was further cementing Amanda’s view of her as a little girl who while almost four had yet to outgrow the terrible twos. Katie had been on a tour hosted by the same agency as Heather’s. But unlike Heather’s she never got to experience much of the city. Ignoring the warnings of her Tour Guide she had snuck out of the hotel on the third night to experience the sights and sounds of the Amazon world without the boundaries that the Tour imposed. It had been uneventful at first before the evening had conspired against her and her new friends. Amanda knew none of that. The Adoption Agency were careful to not give too much away, they wanted their precious cargo to experience a second babyhood, or in Katie’s case because she was the tallest in the tour group a second toddlerhood. That meant setting their captives up for failure and ensuring the fosterers had no idea that the placements were Little Tourists who were being moulded for new lives with Amazon Parents. The baby that now occupied the playpen in her sitting room was a refreshing change. She would need a regimented routine of bottle feeding, naps, diaper changes, cuddles and playtime. In the backyard a line of freshly washed line of white flat cotton diapers waved like flags at the State Fair in the afternoon breeze,. Amanda smiled, the toddler sized soft cotton prefold diapers she had used on Little Katie had fitted the girl perfectly. Once pinned on they were there to stay, she didn’t have the dexterity to undo the diaper pins even though she had tried on multiple occasions. They had been a perfect solution for Little Katie, and she had eventually accepted that she still needed them. They were however too big for Heather, she was still a baby and that called for baby diapers, flat baby diapers that she had used many times before, flat cotton bab6 diapers that could be folded in multiple ways to fit Baby Heather’s small body. Parking the pram clear of the other furniture she inspected the bags of shopping that had been in the parcel tray when the Police had handed it over to her in the mall carpark. The first of the plastic shopping bags was branded with pastel coloured blocks announcing the the name of the baby store in the mall, ‘Tots to Teens’. Smiling she took it from the parcel tray and emptied its contents onto her dining room table. Diapers, washable cotton, size 27 x 27 inches, easily folded to fit either a baby like the infant amazon girl she had in the playpen or her older sister, which of the girls had the Mom brought them for she wondered. Next she inspected the diaper pins, stainless steel with pink plastic locking caps that slid down and locked in place to prevent accidental opening. Opening one of the packs of cotton diapers she unfolded the first one and felt the soft thirsty cotton on her cheeks, that single act brought back memories of diapering her own kids who were now all grown up and had flown the coup. “Still as soft as they always were”, she claimed before tuning to the older girl who was now standing beside the playpen that contained her baby sister. “Did Mommy buy some of these lovely soft cotton diapees for you Sweetheart or are they all for your baby sister?” Becky was horrified at the suggestion, the look on her face said it all, signalling to Amanda Featherstone what she needed to know. “I though as much, you are in sposies and Mommy wants her new baby to be a cloth diaper girl. It’s much better for the environment, did she ever tell you that?” Turning back to the kitchen table Amanda continued her task. Two dozen SOFT TOTS birdseye cotton diapers and two cards each of six diaper pins. Putting the diapers and safety pins to one side she retrieved a second bag from the pram and emptied its contents onto the kitchen table. Baby pants, SOFT TOTS - the same brand as the cotton diapers. They were pull on style, three pairs each of baby pink, lemon and milky white. Putting the baby pants on top of the two dozen diapers she checked out the remaining items. ALEXIS brand, snap on plastic Baby pants, one pair with polka dots and another with cute kittens. The sizing was too small for the older girl but easily large enough for the baby, that confirmed her suspicions, the washable cotton diapers and baby pants were intended for Becky’s baby sister. From the playpen Heather watched as best she could. Being floor bound and unable to stand or walk restricted her field of view and she could not see everything that was now on the kitchen table. As a third bag was emptied out onto the table her tummy rumbled. Ignoring the signals she watched intently, the pacifier that had silenced her earlier now bobbing up and down in her mouth like there was no tomorrow. Baby clothes, the third bag contained baby clothes, she watched transfixed as its contents spilled out and the woman fawned over them like she had uncovered a pirates hidden treasure chest. Amanda smiled, it was rare to receive a new placement that came with her own diapers and baby clothes. In her hands she held a BABYTIME brand footed sleeper in pink stars size 18 months. Putting it to one side she examined the rest of the haul. Another BABYTIME footed sleeper with an ABC alphabet print again in size 18 months, a three pack of INFANTINO onesies also in pink and another three pack of onesies this time in white also size 18 months. The same baby clothing brands she had used years ago for her own babies, well made and durable. All she needed to do now was put them through the wash and peg them out in the sun to dry. With the baby clothes, diapers and baby pants in her arms she carried the lot to the laundry and dumped it on the workbench. Through the laundry door to the backyard it was obvious to her that the sun had moved toward the horizon, it was summer so would be light for another four or five hours yet, but the baby would need feeding soon. Her decision was made, the laundry could wait until tomorrow, she had two little mouths to feed and a baby that would no doubt need changing. Back in the kitchen she boiled the kettle and took a can of baby formula, six baby bottles, nipples and bottle collars from the kitchen cupboard. Glancing over her shoulder she called to the older girl who was on sitting room floor watching cartoons. “Becky would you like to help me make your baby sister’s bottles of formula up.” The woman’s announcement didn’t go unnoticed by Heather as she lay on her tummy in the playpen watching cartoons on the sitting room TV. Bottles…. Bottles… of baby formula… no way.. no way was she going to be drinking baby formula. Being bottle fed by a woman she didn’t know had been bad enough, now it was revealed that the bottles she would nursing on would contain powdered baby formula. Was that what had been in the bottles Diane had already fed her? No wonder she had wet and pooped her diaper. Cows milk had never done that to her before, now she knew why. Shifting position she strained to hear the conversation that was now going on the kitchen. “Breastmilk is best for babies Becky, but when that’s not available infant formula is recommended as the main source of nutrition for all babies less than twelve months of age. Im not sure how old your little sister is but she is tiny, so just in case Im keeping her on a baby formula only diet until we know more about her actual age.” Pleased to finally have a baby sister Becky was keen to be help. “How many bottles?” “That depends on how old your baby is. Little babies like your sister can’t drink regular, low-fat or skim cow’s milk, evaporated or powdered milk, sweetened condensed milk, cereal, nuts, seeds or sugary drinks. This baby formula has been made to be similar to a Mommy’s breastmilk. It will provide all the nutrition your baby sister needs until she is ready to try solid food then eventually give up her bottles. Pointing to the can of baby formula on the kitchen bench then at a different can still in the kitchen cupboard Becky popped the question. “Why is this can pink and that other one still in the cupboard green?” Amanda was impressed, the girl was observant, she would give her that much. “This one is a starter formula that is based on soy milk. That makes it best for babies from birth to 12 months like your baby sister”. “What about the green one that’s on that shelf up there?” “That’s for toddlers Becky, it has stuff added like fatty acids, probiotics and prebiotics to make it like breastmilk. Do you want to try some, we could make you up a bottle as well? “NO… NO… I’m not a baby, I’m a big girl.” “Oh, that’s right… except you did come to me in a diaper under your leggings… but perhaps Mommy just diapered you to go to the mall as a one off thing… just in case.” Being reminded about the thick disposable diaper taped around her loins made Becky uneasy. At the photoshoot she had somehow managed to wet a pair of training parts playing in the outside scene, then after being diapered she wet her diaper while standing in the crib of the nursery scene before that transitioned to a scene of the model who was playing the part of her Mommy changing her into a dry daytime disposable made of fluff pulp padding with an outer plastic layer and single use tapes. Now she wanted to change the subject. In her head she counted the row of empty baby bottles now on the kitchen bench. One, two ,there, four, five, six… “Oh… that’s lots of bottles why do we need that many?” “Since your baby sister is being bottle fed we need to make sure she doesn’t go hungry. We will do that by feeding her 100 ml per kg of her body weight per day. She weights about 42 kilos, that works out to 4200 ml vo'c.vf milk a day. Now this is where Mommy’s get good at math. Each of these baby bottles is 600 ml, so we divide the 4200 ml by 600 and there you have it, seven bottles a day.” “Wow, you are really smart… I can’t do that… what’s divide mean?” Laughter filled the kitchen as a slow moving dark depression engulfed the sitting room. Caged in the playpen Heather had done her own math and come up with the same answer. That thought scared her, already it felt like her tummy was always full, her bladder screaming for release and the thick diapers she had enduring so far almost continuously wet. But now this new woman that was holding her captive was going to more than double her daily fluid intake compared to what she would drink at home on most days. How long was this nightmare going to last, would she ever escape this hell hole of a dimension? Pushing herself up using her arms Heather immediately regretted her actions as a new warmth engulfed her diaper. There had been no warning, no indication of what was about to happen, it simply happened, the warm trickle filling her diaper told a story she didn’t want to hear. -
CHAPTER 6: LITTLE AINO --- Monday mornings were usually the calmest moment of the week for Aino. The office was still quiet, the week's rush hadn't yet piled up, and familiar routines brought back the order she had always craved. Once again, she hung her coat on the hook, smoothed the hem of her skirt, and started her computer as calmly as every other workday morning. Thirteen emails had accumulated over the weekend. Usually, Aino opened Mikko's messages first. Mikko never sent emails without reason, and his messages were often the ones that needed prioritizing. This time, however, her gaze stopped at Elisa's name. "I found more material over the weekend. Go through the investment decisions from the second quarter in particular. I think you'll find something significant there. Thank you." Aino stared at the screen for a moment. The message was short, but she knew immediately what it meant. Elisa expected her to continue work that Mikko—or anyone else—knew nothing about. The thought made her stomach turn, but mixed with the discomfort was something else. Out of all the employees, Elisa had given the task to her. She had trusted Aino to see something no one else would notice. It was flattering. Aino opened the Baltic project files before even properly going through her emails. The files quickly filled her screen, and soon Aino was so deeply absorbed in the numbers, memos, and investment calculations that the surrounding office began to fade from her awareness. She had just been noting down an illogicality she had spotted when familiar footsteps echoed from the hallway. Two light knocks. "Morning. Hope your weekend was better than mine with an IKEA bookshelf." Mikko stepped in with a smile. Only then did Aino realize that the Baltic project files were open across her entire screen. Her hand moved toward the mouse almost instinctively, and the window closed so quickly that she nearly startled at the blue-gray desktop background. Mikko immediately noticed Aino wasn't in a chatty mood, so he put on his headphones and started his own work. He asked carefully whether Aino had had time to look at the sales forecast he had sent over the weekend. "Not yet," Aino replied quietly. --- The workdays passed quickly. The Baltic project began to take up an increasingly large portion of Aino's days. At first, Elisa asked her to check individual reports and compare the assumptions behind various decisions. Gradually, the material grew into entire folders, lengthening email threads, and new questions that Aino immersed herself in so completely that her other work fell by the wayside. Mikko noticed the change too. Previously, Aino had almost always been the one to return her work first and spot inconsistencies in others' reports. Now deadlines started slipping. Unfinished files were left waiting for the next day, and sometimes Aino would realize in the afternoon that she hadn't touched the day's most important task. Mikko said nothing about it during the first week. He reminded her of deadlines in his calm tone and asked a couple of times whether her workload had grown too heavy. Aino thanked him, assured him everything was under control, and believed it herself each time. By the second week, Mikko stopped asking if she needed help. One afternoon, he set his headphones down on the desk and turned to Aino. "I've noticed you've been pretty deep in that same project lately." Aino looked up from her screen. "Yeah." "What project is it, exactly?" The question was asked almost casually, but Aino felt her shoulders tense. She found herself searching for an answer that would be both true and vague enough. "Elisa asked me to help with an analysis." Aino felt the lie burn in her throat. It was a small lie, almost insignificant, but Aino felt tiny electric shocks across her skin. Mikko nodded slowly. "I see." He didn't ask more. Still, for the first time, Aino noticed that Mikko was no longer just curious. He was watching her. --- The workdays turned into agonizing struggles for survival. During the day, Aino did analysis for Elisa; in the evenings, she tried to catch up on her own tasks. The workload grew nearly unbearable, but the secrecy drained Aino even more than the long workdays. Every conversation with Mikko forced her to watch her words. Honesty was as natural to Aino as breathing, and she had never learned to lie lightly. Every half-truth lingered in her mind for a long time, as if she had broken something inside herself. This all gradually began to show in Aino's bodily functions as well. The first wetting accident happened on Wednesday afternoon. Mikko had asked about the Baltic project a moment earlier, and Aino had answered evasively. The conversation had lasted only a few minutes, but afterward her thoughts kept circling back to the same phrases. Had she said too much? Had Mikko noticed something? Was Aino a bad person? Only then did Aino realize that her bladder was already too full. She hadn't noticed a thing—not a single sign. As if her body had wanted to hide the warnings from her. She stood up quickly, but already knew there was nothing to be done. The diaper started to get wet as soon as Aino reached the hallway from her office. She stopped and spread her legs slightly to make sure the diaper wouldn't leak from the sides. The situation was incredibly embarrassing—Aino stood there as two colleagues walked past her, a warm stream of pee still filling her thick diaper. The warmth spread across Aino's intimate areas, and her cheeks flushed red. She was absolutely certain that someone had realized she had just wet herself, even though the passing coworkers had barely glanced her way. Aino only continued on her way once the flow had stopped, only to experience a small setback at the bathroom door. Her spare diapers were in her bag back in her office, so she had to return there and trudge back to the bathroom door with slightly wobbly steps. This was the first accident in a long time, but certainly not the last. The following week, Aino wet her diaper at work on three out of five days. Although she was used to wearing diapers in public places, this was completely exceptional. Normally, her diaper was only a last resort—one that rarely actually came into use, so well had Aino learned to live with her challenges. But the stress from the lies and secrecy had changed everything. Wetting accidents now happened both in her own office and in meetings, and Aino eventually started going to the bathroom every hour just to be safe, sometimes even more often. Aino now planned her workdays around bathroom breaks; the clock dictated the rhythm instead of work tasks. Even this didn't protect her from accidents, because it often happened that Aino couldn't pee at all when she went to the bathroom without a real need. The urge always appeared completely without warning, and Aino had to give in to it more and more often. Gradually, changing a wet diaper at the office began to feel as normal as a regular bathroom visit. Aino no longer felt like an adult. --- After a heavy Friday, Aino stepped off the local bus onto the pavement covered in puddles. She had an umbrella with her, but she couldn't be bothered to open it. For some reason, it felt good to surrender to the cold rain. Aino walked slowly toward her apartment building, the thick wet diaper under her skirt reminding her with every step that she was no longer an adult in control of her bladder. Home. Door locked, curtains drawn, the rest of the world shut out. Aino stood in the hallway and looked at herself in the mirror. Her face was pale, dark circles under her eyes, her hair flattened by the rain. The hem of her skirt had pressed tightly around her thighs, and a faint scent of pee lingered around her. Aino removed her skirt, tights, shirt, and bra. She stared at herself in the mirror for a moment, her average-sized body protected only by a wet diaper. Aino had intended to take a shower, but she couldn't move. She stood still, looking at her reflection and thinking. She thought about Elisa's cold smile, Mikko's worried glances, and how she had wet herself at work, on the bus, everywhere. She thought about how tired she was and how much she just wanted to be little. Aino walked to the bedroom, opened the closet, and pulled out a soft, thick blanket. She spread the blanket on the living room floor, retrieved her pacifier from the kitchen, and sat down on the blanket. Aino left the wet diaper on—it felt both right and wrong. She put the pacifier in her mouth and began to suck. Immediately with the first suck, she startled, because she remembered something important. She crawled to the living room cabinet, opened the bottom drawer, and pulled out a small plastic box. There they were—the old Little Pet Shop toys she had loved as a child. Small animals, their colors faded, some having lost their ears or tails over the years. Aino smiled. Or at least she felt the corners of her mouth lift. She poured the toys onto the floor and sat back down on the blanket. The wet diaper felt thick beneath her bottom and pushed her legs comfortably apart. "What do we have here?" Aino whispered past her pacifier. She picked up a small dog that was missing its left ear. At first she just held it, turned the toy in her fingers. Then she began to move the dog, making it do little jumps and other tricks. "Oh, you're all excited," she said and let out a careful laugh. Aino picked up the next toy—a cat with crooked eyes. "Here's a friend for you," Aino said as she placed it next to the dog. She started to play. At first superficially, almost ironically. Gradually, the play began to become more genuine and more childlike. Sucking the pacifier became rhythmic, and Aino moved more naturally in her crawling position. She made sounds for the toys, as if they were speaking to her and each other. "What did you say? That you want to go get ice cream?" "No, the cat's already here. You'll have to wait your turn." She didn't notice how time passed. She didn't notice how she instinctively peed in her diaper again. She didn't notice anything but the toys, the pacifier, and the blanket. She was little. She was allowed to be little. No need to perform, be afraid, or lie. She could just be. She lifted a small red bird into the air and made it sing. "Tweet tweet," the bird sang. "Tweet tweet. Everything's okay." And for a moment, it was true.
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