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Baby Suzy the Super Soaker Now At 35/36/37/38 - Big Kids Having Kids, or Is It The Littlest Little In The World? Congratulations… its both! (or from Teen Baby to Adult Baby to Mother of a Baby) 1 2 3 4
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„Do we need diapers again?“ That was my babysitter's usual greeting in the morning when she had to get me out of bed. She knew that if I hadn't gotten up on my own, I was either sick or my bed was wet… -
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By diaperboy187 · Posted
Made using Grok AI. Playtime for baby Paige and of course can't forget food. New parts posted every Friday Part Nine With the diaper change complete and the adult Paige's reluctant agreement hanging in the air, the younger Paige wasted no time asserting her dominance. She led Paige back to the play area, her hand firm on the smaller woman's shoulder, guiding her like a wayward toddler. "Okay, little flower girl, time to play nicely," she said with a sing-song lilt, her thoughts buzzing with amusement: "Let's see how long she lasts before another accident—bet it's not long. This is way too easy." The nursery's floor was scattered with an array of baby and toddler toys: colorful stacking rings in bright primary hues, soft cloth blocks with crinkly textures and embroidered animals, a shape sorter with oversized pieces that made satisfying clicks when fitted right, and a push-along walker toy shaped like a smiling lion, its wheels squeaking softly. Paige stared at them in horror, her mind rebelling: "Play with these? They're for infants! I can't... but if I don't, she'll tell Emily everything. Just endure it—find a moment to escape later." She sank to her knees reluctantly, the damp diaper squishing uncomfortably beneath her as she picked up the stacking rings with trembling hands. The younger Paige plopped down cross-legged nearby, watching with a grin. "Go on, stack 'em up! Show me how high you can make the tower, baby Paige." Paige's cheeks burned as she fumbled the rings, their plastic clacking together—red on blue, yellow on green—her small fingers slipping from embarrassment. "This is ridiculous... I'm a grown woman playing with baby toys while in a wet diaper. How did my life come to this?" The play dragged on for what felt like hours but was closer to thirty minutes: the younger Paige encouraged "pat-a-cake" with the cloth blocks, clapping Paige's hands together, then rolled a soft ball back and forth, cooing "Good catch!" each time. Paige complied woodenly, her thoughts a storm: "I need a plan—sneak to my room when she's distracted, grab the purse, show Emily the ID. But how? She's watching like a hawk." The pressure in her bladder and bowels built from the morning applesauce and stress, but she clenched, determined not to give in. But endurance has limits. As they "built" a wobbly block castle—the soft cubes tumbling repeatedly, eliciting giggles from the younger Paige—Paige's body betrayed her again. A cramp hit, and despite squeezing her eyes shut and willing it away, a warm mess pushed into the diaper, followed by a trickle of wetness. The padding absorbed it, but the sag and smell were immediate, her face crumpling in shame. "No... not again. Why can't I control this? It's like the nightmare's making it real." Tears pricked her eyes as she shifted uncomfortably, the mess spreading with each movement. The younger Paige noticed instantly, wrinkling her nose with exaggerated disgust. "Uh-oh, smells like someone needs a change! Good thing we put you in that diaper, huh? Playtime's over for now, stinky." Her thoughts were gleeful: "Called it—another accident. She's practically proving she needs this treatment." Paige's protests were weak: "Please... not again," but the younger one scooped her up anyway, carrying her to the changing table like luggage. The change was efficient but humiliating: the younger Paige untaped the soiled diaper with a "Phew!" fanning her face dramatically, wiping thoroughly with cold wipes that made Paige shiver and squirm. "Hold still—you made this mess, now deal with it," she scolded lightly, her mind noting: "She's so easy to embarrass; this is fun." Powder followed in clouds, then a fresh thick diaper taped on snugly. "There, all clean—for now." Paige lay there, staring at the ceiling, her thoughts dark: "Changed twice today already... and by her. I feel like I'm losing myself." Once redressed in the yellow play dress, the younger Paige buckled her into the highchair—a tall wooden one with a tray that locked in place, its straps clicking around her waist and between her legs, pressing the new diaper firmly. Paige tugged at them futilely, pouting deeply as she realized she was stuck. "Let me out! This is ridiculous," she whined, her lower lip jutting out like a child's. Internally, she schemed: "While she's busy, maybe I can think of something for Emily—a note, a call? But how, trapped like this? The purse is key—if I can get to my room..." The younger Paige rummaged in the nursery cabinets, pulling out jars of pureed baby food—carrots and peas, applesauce—and a bottle of formula mix. She warmed water, stirred in the powder, then spotted a bottle of muscle relaxant pills on a high shelf—likely for the babysitter's use. "Hmm... a few of these crushed up should keep her nice and compliant—no fighting during playtime," she thought mischievously, grinding two into powder with a spoon and mixing them into the bottle. "Perfect—won't hurt her, just make her limp as a ragdoll." Paige watched warily from the highchair, pouting harder at the sight of the babyish meal. "No... not that stuff. I'm not eating it," she muttered, crossing her arms, her mind racing for escape ideas: "If I could get Emily alone, show her my hands or something unique... but the ID's proof. Got to get that purse." The younger Paige approached with a bib—plastic-backed with cartoon animals—tying it around Paige's neck. "Oh yes you are, baby girl. Open wide!" She spooned up the carrots first, airplane-noising it toward Paige's mouth. "This'll help you grow big and strong—just what you need, huh?" The teasing stung; Paige reluctantly opened up, the mushy texture bland and humiliating on her tongue. Spoon after spoon followed—peas next, then applesauce—Paige chewing and swallowing with grimaces, bits dribbling down her chin despite her efforts. The younger Paige wiped sporadically but let some smear, laughing: "Look at that messy face! You're every bit the baby now." By the end, Paige's bib was splattered orange and green, her cheeks streaked, her pout deepened into a full sulk. "I hate this... looking like a slobbery infant. But I'll bide my time." The bottle came last—the spiked formula warm and milky. "Drink it all up," the younger Paige ordered, tipping it into Paige's mouth. Paige suckled, the flow steady, her thoughts foggy: "Tastes off... but I have to. Once she's distracted, I'll make my move." With the meal done, the younger Paige unbuckled her, setting her back in the play area. "Now color some pictures—keep busy, little one." Paige grabbed crayons, scribbling absently, her body starting to feel oddly heavy from the relaxants: "Why am I so tired? No—fight it. Plan: wait for her to leave, then sneak out." But the younger Paige watched like a hawk for a bit before announcing, "Naptime already? You look pooped." Paige whined, "No, I'm not sleepy!" but her limbs felt leaden, the drugs kicking in. The younger Paige scooped her up easily, laying her in the crib and turning on the baby mobile—its soft tinkling melody and spinning shapes hypnotic. "Shh, sleep tight." Paige fumed internally: "Not napping like a baby... but my body's so relaxed... damn it." She dozed off despite herself. While Paige slept, the younger Paige tidied up: wiping the highchair, rinsing the bottle and spoons, straightening toys. "Can't leave a mess—Ms. Karen might suspect something," she thought. She finished just as the door knob turned—Ms. Karen returning with grocery bags. "All good?" the babysitter asked. The younger Paige nodded sweetly. "Perfect—she's napping now. I'll check back later." As she left, her mind turned to the afternoon: "She's under control—time for more fun as the 'adult'." Paige slumbered on, unaware, her secret plans simmering beneath the enforced rest. -
By Sara the soggy baby · Posted
Nothing is a more humiliating spanking than the diaper pulled down around ur knees before you get over the lap -
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By DiaperboyEddie12 · Posted
@duaoer naster your mindset needs to believe in what you want. You believe it hurts so change that belief into it feels good. Here is a good video of Tony Robbins. He talks about your STATE! Which is what you have to change to move forward. https://youtu.be/ZVvdk2bj7co?si=igQ_TqPFn5UnaQqQ
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