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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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Posts
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By little_madd · Posted
Maddison was saddened by the news, but Ana, noticing this, said, "Hey, little one, it’s not all sad news! Mommy has something to tell you that will make you jump for joy." Maddison exclaimed, "Tell me, tell me!" Ana laughed and replied, "It’s a secret—only Mommy and Camilla get to tell you that." Maddison was also delighted to hear that Becca wanted to take her out for ice cream, and asked, "Can I, Mommy?" ================================== Alice was left speechless and said, "It’s just not the same thing..." Camilla found these little tantrums of Alice’s absolutely adorable. Noticing that Alice hadn’t finished her sentence, Camilla asked, "What is it, little snowflake?" Alice replied, "Uhhh... uhhh... it’s not fair that Maddison gets to be a teenager; she should be wearing diapers!" Alice was echoing something Emilly had said. -
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By DiaperedJaden · Posted
Chapter seven "Absolutely disgraceful," Mrs. Gable sighed, her voice regaining that sharp, judgmental edge. She didn't just observe his state; she conducted a forensic audit. Her fingers hooked into the waistband of his khakis, tugging the fabric away from his skin to inspect the areas she had meticulously sealed three days prior. "I can smell the neglect from here, Leo. Did you actually think you could maintain yourself? Look at this." She didn't wait for him to look. She leaned in, her tone shifting to a clinical sneer as she described the "failures" of his independent hygiene. She pointed out a smudge of residue, a missed spot, and the general lack of the sterile sheen she demanded. "It’s pathetic, really. You’ve spent seventy-two hours trying to pretend you’re an adult, and all you’ve managed to do is prove how incapable you are. You’re practically leaking incompetence." Mrs. Gable didn’t just clean him; she performed an exorcism of his independence. She reached for the heavy-duty lemon wipes with a predatory swiftness, the nitrile gloves snapping against her wrists like a starting pistol. Without a word of warning, she plunged the saturated cloth into the crevices of his skin with a violent, scrubbing intensity. It wasn't a gentle wipe—it was a focused assault. She worked with a frantic, clinical aggression, her hand moving in jagged, punishing circles that sought to erase every trace of the three days he had spent alone. Leo gasped, his body arching as the chemical scent of lemon collided with the raw sensitivity of his skin, the friction bordering on painful. She was scrubbing away his dignity, treating his flesh like a stained countertop that needed to be scoured back to a sterile, blank slate. "Hold still," she barked, though he was barely breathing. She leaned her entire weight into the scrub, pinning him against the kitchen island. The aggression was dramatic, a theatrical display of power meant to remind him that his body was merely a surface for her to manage. Every swipe of the cloth was a sentence, every firm press of her palm a period. She worked through the "neglect" with a fervor that bordered on the obsessive, her movements becoming a blur of white fabric and yellow-scented chemicals, ensuring that no part of him remained untouched by her authority. Once the aggression of the scrubbing subsided, the atmosphere in the kitchen shifted with a jarring, suddenness. The clinical violence of the lemon wipes vanished, replaced by a warmth that was almost more suffocating. Mrs. Gable reached for the oversized bottle of medicinal vanilla lotion, her movements now fluid and humming with a quiet, contented energy. She didn't just apply the cream; she luxuriated in the process of restoring him. She began by pouring a generous, glistening pool of the thick white emulsion into her palm. With a soft, satisfied sigh, she pressed her hand against his sensitized skin, spreading the lotion in long, slow, rhythmic strokes. The transition was intoxicating—the raw, stinging heat of the scrubbing was instantly quenched by the cool, cloying sweetness of the vanilla. She worked with a focused happiness, her fingers kneading the cream into his flesh with a firm, possessive pressure that claimed every millimeter of his surface. For Mrs. Gable, this was the reward: the act of transforming a raw, broken thing back into a polished, managed asset. She beamed at the way the lotion created a shimmering, isolating barrier between Leo and the rest of the world, a physical manifestation of her ownership. “Excellent,” she whispered, the word vibrating against his skin. It wasn't a compliment; it was a grade. She stepped back to survey her handiwork, her eyes scanning the glossy, vanilla-coated expanse of his lower back and thighs with the pride of a curator who had finally restored a damaged masterpiece. To her, the "excellent" part wasn't just the smoothness of the skin, but the total absence of resistance in his posture. He was a mirror reflecting her will, a perfectly calibrated object of care. She reached out and gave his hip a sharp, possessive pat, the sound echoing in the quiet kitchen. “See how much better you feel when you aren't fighting me? This is what stability looks like, Leo. This is the peace that comes from knowing exactly where you belong.” She smiled, a warm, genuine expression that never quite reached the clinical calculation of her eyes. The intimacy of the moment was a weapon; by being tender, she made the dominance feel like a gift. -
By cute little kokiri girl · Posted
"Maybe have something to do with Emily, as Alice has grown quite close to you and that I'm sure she doesn't mean it, I think she's just a little bit jealous and afraid that Emily is going to replace her. But don't worry once me and Alice get home I'll talk to her." Ana said, while Camilla and her had been dating for a while they haven't moved in yet. They were planning to around November it was just a lot to do and now with Emily that sort of complicated things as well. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Now Alice don't be mean you are a naughty girl and need I remind you that you snitched on Emily, so how is that any different than what Madison did?" Camila asked as she gently padded Alice's diaper and felt how full it was the girl definitely needed a change. -
The ONLY local paper here today only prints 4 days/week, including $3 for the Sunday paper that is 60-70% sales flyers! Not worth reading and GOD do I miss waking up, pouring my coffee and reading the paper!
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