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Spanking
All About Spanking
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I have done that for years. Not as much now as when I was a teen. Sometimes I use baby lotion in the diaper to help with slides. -
By Karla.littlegirl · Posted
Much longer than the 4 days. I predict a certain girl starting secondary school with a thick nappy under her skirt and tights. -
Part 33 About a month after I handed my mom those tampons—awkward and unsure, but proud to be helpful—something happened that I never saw coming. It was early morning, the kind where the house still felt wrapped in sleep. I was changing Besty and she stirred slightly as I gently unfastened her nighttime diaper, my hands moving with practiced ease. But then I froze. My breath caught. My heart slammed against my ribs. There, smeared across the inside of the diaper, was blood. Not a scrape. Not a rash. Blood. A wave of panic surged through me, cold and electric. My mind raced with worst-case scenarios—injury, illness, something internal. But I knew I couldn’t let Betsy see my fear. I carefully folded the diaper back up, masking my alarm with a smile that felt like it belonged to someone else. “I need something from the living room,” I said softly, my voice steady despite the chaos in my head. As soon as I stepped out, I bolted down the hallway, my bare feet slapping against the hardwood. I burst into my mom’s room, breathless, eyes wide with terror. “Mom!” I gasped. “Betsy’s bleeding!” She turned instantly, her face sharpening with concern. “Where? What happened?” “I was changing her diaper,” I stammered, “and there was blood. Inside. I don’t know why.” Without a moment’s hesitation, she threw off the covers. “Let’s go.” We rushed back to Betsy’s room. She was sitting up now, blinking sleepily, her face scrunched with confusion. Her eyes flicked between us, sensing the urgency but not understanding it. Mom knelt beside her, her movements calm and deliberate. She opened the diaper and examined it for just a moment. Then she looked up at me, her expression softening into something warm and knowing. She turned to Betsy, brushing a strand of hair from her forehead, and smiled. “Welcome to womanhood, sweetheart,” she said gently, her voice full of tenderness. She fastened the diaper with quiet precision, her hands moving with the kind of care that only comes from years of practice. Then, with a tenderness that made my chest ache, she brushed a hand over Betsy’s hair, smoothing it back from her forehead. “I’ll be right back with your mom,” she said softly, her voice like a lullaby. Betsy blinked up at her, still groggy, still unsure. Turning to me, Mom gave a small nod. “Come on.” We walked down the hallway, the silence stretching between us like a held breath. When we reached Betsy’s mother’s bedroom, Mom paused at the doorway, her hand resting lightly on the frame. She looked at me for a moment, then turned to Betsy’s mom. “Remember when I handed you those tampons?” she asked, her voice low but steady. Betsy’s mom looked up from the bed, her brow furrowed in confusion. “Yes… why?” “You’ll need them now,” Mom said gently. “Come with me—your daughter needs you.” There was a beat of silence. Then Betsy’s mom rose quickly, her face shifting from confusion to concern. As they stepped into the hallway, I turned to follow, but Mom stopped me with a glance and a soft hand on my shoulder. “Why don’t you go watch some TV for a bit,” she said, her voice calm but firm. I nodded, unsure, and turned away. As they walked down the hall together, I lingered just long enough to hear Betsy’s mom murmur, “She started a couple of months ago…” The words hung in the air like a thread pulled loose from a sweater—quiet, unraveling, and not meant for me. I didn’t know what they meant exactly, but I knew they marked a shift. Something private. Something grown-up. Something I wasn’t quite part of yet. Twenty minutes later, all three of them emerged from our bedroom—quiet, composed, and carrying something I couldn’t quite name. There was a stillness in their expressions, a kind of unspoken understanding that made me feel like I’d missed a chapter in a book we were all supposed to be reading. After lunch, we headed down to the boat dock. The sun was high, casting golden ripples across the lake, and the air buzzed with the lazy warmth of summer. We kicked off our sandals and stretched out on the dock, letting the heat soak into our skin. Both moms slipped off their bikinis with casual ease, settling into the sun in just their bottoms. Betsy, though, only removed her top and kept her bottoms on. I noticed, but didn’t ask. Something about it felt intentional—like a choice she’d made for reasons I didn’t understand yet. As we sat there, the grown-ups chatted quietly, their voices low and measured. I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, but my mom’s words drifted over to me like a breeze. “I think it’s time I had the talk with him,” she said to Betsy’s mom. “About the birds and the bees. About what’s going on with Betsy and her body.” I blinked, unsure what any of that meant. It sounded important. It sounded like something I was about to learn whether I wanted to or not. After dinner, just as the sky began to blush with sunset, my mom turned to me and said, “Let’s go for a walk.” “Can Betsy come?” I asked, hopeful. She shook her head gently. “This walk is just for the two of us.” We strolled along the lake, the water catching the last light of day, until we reached a quiet bench by the river. She gestured for me to sit, and I did, the wood cool beneath my legs. She settled beside me, her hands folded in her lap, her gaze steady. “We need to talk a bit,” she said, “about how women and men are different.” Her voice was calm, but there was weight behind it—like she was about to hand me something fragile and important. I sat still, waiting, unsure what was coming but knowing it would change something. I looked at her and said, “We’ve talked about that before.” She nodded, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “That was the 50,000-foot overview,” she replied. “Now we’re coming down to 25,000 feet.” The lake shimmered behind us, the fading light casting long shadows across the water. A gentle breeze stirred the trees, and for a moment, everything felt suspended—quiet, expectant. She turned slightly to face me, her expression thoughtful. “Over the past few weeks,” she began, “you’ve had a front-row seat to how women’s bodies naturally change and develop. You’ve seen it in Betsy, in her mom, and in me. Betsy’s right in the middle of her journey into womanhood. It’s a big transition, and you’ve already noticed some of the physical changes—there’s more to come, and it’s all part of growing up.” I nodded slowly, unsure what to say. She continued, her voice gentle but clear. “I also want to talk about you,” she said. “You’re going through puberty too, and I see it every day. Your voice has deepened, you’re shooting up like a weed, and honestly? Your appetite could rival that of three grown men!” She chuckled softly, and I smiled despite myself. “These changes are normal,” she said. “They’re exciting, even if they feel strange sometimes. Your body is maturing, and that’s something to understand, not fear. Puberty isn’t just about what happens on the outside—it’s about learning who you are, how you relate to others, and how to take care of yourself and those around you.” She paused, letting the words settle. I felt a mix of curiosity and nervousness, like I was standing at the edge of something big. “Tonight,” she said, “I want to help you start that journey with a little more clarity.” “About a month ago,” Mom began, her voice gentle but steady, “I noticed something that’s a normal part of growing up.” She paused, giving me space to listen without feeling judged. “When your bedroom door was open,” she continued, “I saw that your body is beginning to change. Your testicles have descended, which is a natural part of male development. You’ve also started growing pubic hair. And yes,” she added with a soft smile, “you’ve got a long way to catch up with me, but that’s something that will happen over time.” I felt my face flush, but she didn’t laugh or tease. She just kept her tone calm and kind. “Occasionally,” she said, “I’ve noticed you’ve had an erection when walking past in your underwear. That’s completely normal too. It’s your body responding to hormones and changes—it doesn’t mean anything’s wrong or weird. I remember feeling embarrassed when I first experienced those things, but my mom reminded me they’re nothing to be ashamed of.” She looked out at the water for a moment, then back at me. “Puberty is a natural process,” she said. “It’s important to talk about it openly and respectfully, so you understand what’s happening and feel comfortable asking questions.” She shifted slightly on the bench. “Now,” she said, “let’s talk about what Betsy is going through. You may have noticed she’s starting to develop breasts. That’s one of the first signs of puberty in girls. Just like with boys, her body is beginning to change in ways that are healthy and normal. She’s on her own journey, just like you are.” “The biggest change,” my mom continued, “is what’s going on inside a woman’s body during this time. One of the most important changes for girls is something called menstruation—or having a period.” She glanced at me to make sure I was following, then went on. “The blood you saw this morning in Betsy’s diaper was from her period. It’s completely normal. There’s nothing to worry about. From now on, Betsy will have a period about once a month, and that will continue for many years—usually until she’s in her late 40s or early 50s.” I nodded slowly, still trying to wrap my head around it. “Those tampons you found in her diaper bag,” she added, “actually belong to her mom—not me. They’re used to help manage periods. I was hoping we’d have a few more years before needing to explain what they are, how they work, and where they go… but here we are.” She gave a small, understanding smile. “Tampons are designed to absorb menstrual blood from inside the body, specifically from the vagina. They help keep things clean and comfortable during a period, and many people find them convenient once they’re old enough to use them.” She paused, then looked at me more closely. “From the look on your face,” she said gently, “I’m guessing you have a question about what I just said.” I hesitated, then nodded. “If someone has a tampon in their vagina… do they have to change it every time they pee?” She smiled, not in a teasing way, but with warmth—like she was proud I’d asked. “That’s a really good question,” she said. “No, they don’t. The tampon is inside the vagina, and urine comes out of a different opening called the urethra. So someone can pee without removing the tampon. They might need to be careful with the string, so it doesn’t get wet, but otherwise, it’s not a problem.” I nodded again, feeling a little more grounded. The world hadn’t shifted back to normal exactly—but it was starting to make more sense. Mom’s voice softened, but her eyes held steady. “There’s one more important topic we need to talk about,” she said. “Betsy’s mom is in the cabin right now, having same conversation with her about the changes that is happing to you—and it’s something that applies to both of you.” I felt a shift in the air, like the moment was stretching wider than I expected. “You’re old enough now,” she continued, “to understand how children are made. Just take a moment to think about that.” She didn’t rush me. She let the silence settle, giving me space to absorb the weight of her words. I stared out at the lake, the water calm and endless, and tried to imagine what she meant. I’d heard things—snippets from school, whispers from older kids—but nothing that felt real or clear. “We’ll continue this conversation later,” she said gently, “when you’re getting Betsy ready for bed and putting on her nighttime diaper.” Her voice was calm, but I could tell she was choosing her words carefully. This wasn’t just another talk. It was a turning point. I nodded, unsure of what was coming, but knowing it mattered. -
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By Big irish boy · Posted
Hi there everyone I am looking for other abdl to be friends with I'm from Newbridge kildare. -
By ValentinesStuff · Posted
I thought, very briefly, about other measurements, but decided that the measurements weren't important. I stayed away from the AB targeted diapers because of the expense, and a general lack of my interest in them. The same for cloth backed. There are 16 different plastic backed diapers listed there, not counting the Cutie. I emailed a few of the larger online retailers for a list of plastic backed diapers they sold. From 7 different companies, I was told about 10 of the products. I was underwhelmed by the responses, although one did list 7 of them. Sadly most of what medical supply focused places sell is very poor quality and so poorly organized that I imagine many people just give up looking and buy whatever is currently showing.
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