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Cloth Diapers & Panties
For the Cloth Diaper Lovers and their Panties of choice.
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By cute little kokiri girl · Posted
RITA’s CHILDISH DETOUR. by Alec Leamus. (Based on a story idea by S.D.) It was a brisk Saturday afternoon, and the northern California breeze felt refreshingly playful as it danced through Rita’s red hair. Traffic was minimal and Rita was overjoyed and blissfully unaware of the Tesla’s warnings as she traveled along the country road. But then the Tesla slowed and stopped and so did Rita’s good mood. Rita swore and hammered her fists on the wheel. Expletives poured out of her mouth. As a minister’s daughter Rita felt guilty about her language but her dissatisfaction from the mediocre world often overcame her piety. Rita eyed the lonely road and cursed again. She had been wary of the attendant’s assistance who helped her connect the car to the charging station. Clearly, he did not know what he was doing. Rita had borrowed the Tesla from her friend, Natalie. Natalie led an enchanted life in Beverly Hills. When Rita told her about a job interview in San Francisco Natalie offered one of her rides to Rita. “I’m going to Malibu for the weekend. We’ll take the Rolls, or I’ll drive the Aston Martin. I don’t know. Just take it. I don’t even like it. But you won’t need to worry about gas,” Natalie explained as she turned and waved over her shoulder. “Thank you!” Rita replied to Natalie’s backside. Rita observed Natalie’s toned figure as she swiveled down the marble hallway and out to the pool. Rita frequently felt slightly out of place with Natalie. Apart from their financial differences there were also physical differences. Natalie stood at five foot nine inches while Rita was barely five feet. In truth she might have been closer to four feet eleven inches. Additionally, Natalie’s ample breasts and generous curves were in direct contrast to Rita’s modest chest and small figure. But Rita was blessed with youthful features. She knew when they were both older Rita would retain her freshness. The strength of their relationship was Natalie never mentioned these contrasts and never made Rita feel inferior. But when you spend hours of time shopping on Rodeo Drive with your best friend you take note of their shape. Rita was grateful for the gasless transportation to San Francisco. Her finances were tight, and eight hundred miles was a long expense. Rita locked the Tesla and started walking. She couldn’t afford roadside assistance, but she did recall a sign a few miles earlier which indicated a business up ahead. The walk was an easy one. Rita had dressed for comfort in her usual attire: t-shirt, tennis shoes and jeans. Rita smiled broadly at the ominous reference as the road rounded to reveal the “BATES RANCH” rustic sign. “Hi,” Rita began. The bartender nodded silently as Rita expounded her saga. “No problem. My brother’s got a mobile charger. It happens a lot up here. The vine hoppers get excited and forget to charge them. The only trouble is my brother won’t be here until five.” Rita chuckled at her good fortune and enjoyed her wine. The jazz music was pleasant, and it was almost four o’clock. Her job interview wasn’t until Monday, so she had plenty of time. Rita relaxed as the bartender poured her another glass of Pinot Grigio. Then everything went very dark. Rita awoke to a pounding inside her head. She squeezed her eyes tight against the bright sunlight. Slowly she convinced herself to open her eyes. She was greeted by Lavender wallpaper trimmed with a flowered border. A room dripped in pastels. Rita rolled out of the bed and frowned at the small painted rainbow unicorn on the wall. It was a child’s room complete with stuffed animals and toys and decorated for a six-year-old. Rita was still groggy but when she noticed her attire, she woke up. She looked down at her petite body and grimaced. She was dressed in a short pink top and matching bloomer. They were very childish and more suitable for a ten-year-old than a twenty-three-year-old. Rita’s head throbbed. She reached up and paused. Her hair had been gathered into two ponytails on either side of her head. “What the hell?!” she said aloud. Someone had changed her out of her clothes and dressed her in this pink pajama nightmare. She wasn’t even wearing her bra and panties. Rita suddenly felt very exposed and violated. This behavior might have been acceptable if she had spilled something on her clothes or had an accident. But her unknown dresser had also taken the time to tie her hair into pigtails. Something was very wrong. Rita had seen enough true crime television shows to know she was in trouble. She felt her panic rise, so she forced herself to think and be logical. She drifted back to the winery and the bartender. Had she passed out? Did he slip something into her drink? Where was she? Where was her car? Questions stampeded though her mind. Rita searched the room and opened several drawers. Her clothes were nowhere. Rita peered out the window and judged the distance to the thick line of pine trees which lined the property. They were approximately fifty yards away. Barefoot and dressed in pajamas she would not get very far. Rita returned to her reasoning and hoped it would provide an answer. Maybe she had been brought here because she was unconscious, and they had to change her out of her clothes. Maybe they were stained or wet. Perhaps this was the only room and clothing available. There must be a logical justification but none of them explained her new hair style. Rita felt another wave of panic rush through her. This could be serious and waiting for new developments seemed foolish. The unknown of the nearby woods offered her a better option. She quickly moved to the window and eased it open a few inches. It was heavy. But just as Rita adjusted her grip for a harder push the bedroom door opened which startled Rita. A small gasp escaped her lips, and she lowered her arms. “Oh good. You’re awake,” the woman said. The woman was very large and tall with short brown hair. She possessed an air of mid-century no nonsense in her speech and manner. Rita had been around tall women before, but this woman pushed her limits. Rita imagined she was easily six feet two inches. The appearance of the large woman shifted Rita’s tactics into a new focus. “Good morning,” Rita said cheerily. “Good morning to you sweetie,” the woman answered musically. The woman smiled and glided to the window and opened it fully with ease. Rita observed this deliberate display and tactfully chose her next words. “It sure is cool here in Santa Cruz.” To Rita her comment felt like a question, and she prayed the woman did not notice. “It’s early yet but it will warm up soon then you can go outside and play,” the large woman answered. “Play?” Rita puzzled quietly. The word was odd, but inwardly she grinned at the woman’s confirmation of their Santa Cruz location. Rita observed the woman straighten the room and fluff the various pastel pillows. Rita paused and probed again. “This is a nice house you have,” Rita lied as she had only seen the one room. “Well, when grownups work very hard and make good choices, they can afford nice things.” “Grownups?” Rita paused internally. Rita bristled and tried again. “I apologize but I didn’t catch your name.” “You can call me mommy.” Something was mentally wrong with this woman. She must have an ailment or an imbalance which would explain her behavior and Rita’s attire. Unfortunately, this conclusion only made Rita feel more apprehensive. She needed to locate her clothing and depart immediately without incident. “Mommy?” Rita stopped. “It is improper to address adults by their first name,” the woman stated maternally. The woman’s tone and specific word usage was having an accumulative effect which grated on Rita’s psyche. Her petite being screamed against years of condescension. So, she pushed back. “I understand but I can’t call you...I am an adult, so...,” Rita said calmly. “Now don’t be silly,” the woman dismissed. “I’m twenty-three.” “What an imagination!” the woman laughed. She straightened to her full height, raised her eyebrows, and eyed Rita’s diminutive form. “I am! I’m an adult,” Rita sounded as her voice rose in pitch and volume. The woman’s pleasant but firm gaze caused Rita’s mind to switch to the large woman’s perspective. Dressed only in her pink pajamas and adorned in pigtails Rita’s assertion seemed ludicrous. Rita contemplated she had possibly made an erroneous assumption the large woman was responsible for her current attire. So, she tried again. “Look lady,” Rita started suppressing her irritation. “I know I am petite, and I am dressed like a little girl---“. “Because you are a little girl, and an adorable one at that,” the woman oozed. The tension crested and Rita tingled with adrenaline. “I’m not a little girl dammit! I’m twenty-three years old you crazy bitch!” The large woman was shocked by the explosion of expletives. Rita watched as her agreeable veneer quickly vanished. “Little girls should not use such bad words. Apologize at once,” the woman demanded as she placed her hand on her hips. “What?! I’m not going to f*&#ing apologize!” Rita spat. “Little girls who use bad language and don’t apologize will be punished.” The emotional stress destroyed Rita’s calm demeanor. “Screw you! Give me my clothes before I call the police!” Rita was oblivious to the woman’s threats and to the fact she had slowly shifted her position in the room. “I see you have decided to be punished then.” Rita marched defiantly across the room and brushed past the woman. Instantly there was a sharp pain in her right ear. The woman twisted and Rita screamed. “Ow! Let me go you bitch!” Rita tried to pull away, but this only increased the pain. So, she had no choice but to allow the woman to drag her to the foot of the bed. Primarily Rita was focused on the sharp pain, but she took quick note of how enormous the woman seemed up close. She was at least a foot and a half taller. Rita barely came up to her shoulder. In fact, she was more in line with her large breasts. These thoughts were fleeting. In a flash the woman released her ear and sat on the edge of the bed and immediately hauled Rita over her knees. “No!” Rita yelled. The woman calmly ignored Rita’s additional expletives and demands. Rita struggled but the woman clamped her left hand down onto her waist while her right hand found the elastic band of her pink bloomers. Rita felt the cool air cascade over her bare bottom, as her bloomers dangled around her knees. “No!” Rita screamed in panic. SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! The slaps descended rapidly and with force. Rita tried to kick and roll away, but the woman was too strong. “I will not tolerate language in this house! And you will not disrespect your mother!” SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! Rita’s petite bare bottom quickly adopted a reddish hue. Her pleads melted into cries which dissolved into sobs. Rita was defeated. It was the worst and most humiliating spanking of her life. Nothing compared to it. It was further compounded by her childish attire and the overwhelming size of her spanker. Only once did Rita glance into the mirror during her ordeal. It was a mistake. The image of her pigtails flailing, and her reddening bottom was humiliation enough. But it was the size difference between the large woman and herself which painted the most damning picture. Rita’s feet did not even reach the floor. She seemed so small over her lap, just like a child. She looked like she was ten years old! The image was forever seared into Rita’s consciousness. Finally, the spanking stopped, and Rita sobbed uncontrollably. For a few minutes Rita remained draped over the woman’s meaty thighs. Then Rita felt two firm hands grasp her waist and lift her into a seated position on mommy’s lap. Long ago her bloomers had descended to the floor which left her naked except for her top. Rita felt even more exposed and helpless after the spanking and in her current position. Her vulnerability was interrupted as two large arms encircled her in a hug and pulled her close. Instinctually Rita responded and released her leftover tears. “There, there. All done,” the woman soothed as she rubbed Rita’s back slowly. “Now have you learned your lesson?” Rita nodded. “Are you going to be naughty again?” “No,” Rita whispered quietly. “No what?” Rita was unsure. “No,” the woman prompted. “No, mommy,” Rita repeated. “Good girl. I forgive you,” the woman said softly as she placed a small gentle kiss on Rita’s forehead. “But if you are naughty again Rita, I will have to spank you much harder and longer. I may even use Mrs. Spoon or Mrs. Brush. Now, let’s get you cleaned up and head to the playroom. Your sisters will be excited to meet you.” It was the first time the woman had used Rita’s name and it sent chills down her spine. Something was very wrong. -
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I like being a female sci-fi captain in a rp but is it possible to wear tight highcutted suits while wearing pullup diapers? How would you react and behave if you saw me as a captain in a sci-fi rp? -
Really excited for the next chapter:) -
By PottyPotamus · Posted
All I'm wearing currently is my last Sunkiss Masterpiece, my watch, and my glasses. I love to only be in a diaper when at home, and this one I can wear for the rest of the day.
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