Baby Talk

Not sure I understand,how long ago were those stories posted?

Cut  a long story short' ;;lost of my PC stuff! Trying to copy and paste my earlier stories  (me at  18/19 and  me at 25 ) AND no where my to find anything beyond first page my profile! While  Me T 18/19 is complete.  See Me aT 25 stoty (i Story sections) s1-32  while my paper copy (complete to the last chapter 54!  I do NOT understand what happened to them and with previous OCR text being a pisser. i dont want to scan my paper copy justt to fix s0pftware or personal glitch cased tis? i  i was gettng ready to next week my  first donation  to DailDiapers AND tomorrow  pot Chap100  of me at 35-.38 mpre than liekly first  at least delayded for rescaning them again??

And a ton more cases of things like catatonic depression and stress induced psychosis, but then the stories would just be really depressing.

Here's part four. I hope you like it. 😠😠😢 Videl eventually landed in front of a cylindrical robot with a green head and torso, orange hands, white cloth over its arms, and springs for legs. Its face had eyes painted on, an orange knob for a nose, and a smile showed a speaker inside of it. Videl saw a sign between its legs that read, "Automatic Baby Rocker". Videl looked confused, whimpering a little about her butt, when suddenly, the Baby Rocker activated and picked up Videl. Much to her surprise, its arms felt wonderful, like being cradled by pillows. The Baby Rocker gently rocked Videl back and forth while Rock-a-bye Baby was playing from the speaker. Videl almost drifted off before she shook her head. "Wait!" Videl said quickly. "I'm not a baby. This is all a mistake. I'm looking for my mother-in-law, Chi-Chi, and our friend, Bulma. Please let me go. I need to find them." However, the Baby Rocker's chest opened up, and an orange mechanical arm came out of it holding a pacifier. Videl was floored. However Bulma and Chi-Chi screwed up, they screwed up massively. As far as this machine was concerned, Videl was a fussy little baby rather than a mother and a concerned friend. "Please." Videl said. It's all a big misunderstanding. Can you please put me--?" The pacifier was put into Videl's mouth, and the sudden shock of having it shoved into her mouth made her take two sucks on it. It felt so good that she kept sucking on her new pacifier. What Videl didn't know was that the pacifier she was sucking on was the same type of pacifiers that Bulma and Chi-Chi had become addicted to, and Videl's own addiction grew with every suck. Combined with the tinkling lullaby and Videl's growing desire to suck on her pacifier, Videl quickly fell asleep. From there, an antenna extended out of the Automatic Baby Rocker's head and began beeping. The remote control stroller then arrived, and the Baby Rocker put Videl into one of its seats and strapped her in. From there, the stroller rode off while Videl slept soundly, just like when she was a baby. Prototype 21 watched this with excitement as Bulma and Chi-Chi were asleep as well in the Robot Nurse Maids. Videl's arrival certainly made things interesting, so she decided to use this to test out the upgrades to Bulma's adorable inventions. She wanted to bring Videl right to the nursery, but she also knew that she needed to take the fight out of her first. That meant a lot of milk and a lot of diaper changes that would involve Bulma's "special powder". To be continued...

THE POWER REVERSAL BET/EXPERIMENT CONTINUES, AND BARBIE'S APPRECIATION FOR THE POWER OF COSTUMING WILL GROW RICHER AND DEEPER DURING AN ENCOUNTER WITH A SHREWISH SALESCLERK. JENNY AND BARBIE HEAR OF PADDYWELL ACADEMY. Part 2 When Barbara reached the car she looked behind her. Sure enough, Jimmy was still leering at her. No doubt he had enjoyed the rear view of Barbara running towards the car in her low-rise shorts. She had planned to simply ask for the house keys so that she could let herself back into the house to change. But, when she saw Mr. Peepers ogling her from his front window, she quickly got into the car in order to end the free show. "Jenny, can I have the keys?" she said.  "These pants are indecent, and the bra is way too...too...." "Welcome to high school, little girl," Jenny chuckled.  "Like it or not, you have to wear what the other kids wear if you don't want to have the stuffings knocked out of you."  She put the car into gear and began to back out of the driveway. "Imagine a big time psychologist not understanding peer pressure," she teased. "Don't they teach you kids anything in school these days?" she added, clearly relishing the chance to mock her mother with her own words. "But my purse is in the house, Jenny," Barbara whined. "Just as well," Jenny said. "I'm paying the bills, and you'll do things my way.  No money and no ID will keep you from wandering off when we're at the mall. Besides, I don't want you wasting money on a lot of junk."   The phrase "wasting money on a lot of junk" was one of Barbara's favorites, and it steamed her to hear her daughter use it on her. But the next phrase brought the argument to an end. "You know, since you called me 'Jenny,' I should win the bet by default," Jenny said, with a smile.  "Parents name their children, and call their children by their first names, not the other way around. Maybe we should just go to the car dealership." "I'm sorry...Mom," Barbara replied.  Although she knew now that she was the victim of a wager gone awry, she would be damned if she was going to buy her smug daughter that car. "Okay, Barbie, we'll just let it go for now.  We WILL have to discuss the punishment for your flip attitude towards me and the disgraceful language you used in front of Mr. Peepers. But now we'll just concentrate on getting your school uniform. "'Barbie' is such a cute name, don't you think?" Jenny added, playfully. "It's much cuter than 'Barbara.' 'Barbie' reminds me of the doll. How would you like to be my great big Barbie doll, honey?  We'll take you out and get you a nice new school uniform, just like the Barbie dolls get every fall." "Whatever you say, Mother," Barbara replied, coolly. She hated to be called "Barbie," and she hated Barbie dolls even more. But she knew that she wouldn't win the bet unless she played along. As the drive continued, she began to wonder what her "punishment" might be. She hadn't spanked Jenny for several years. But that didn't keep her from threatening Jenny with the juvenile punishment from time to time. "Don't ever think you're too old for a spanking," she had warned. "That antique slipper on my dresser is still reserved for you. You remember that slipper, don't you, Jenny?  Well, as long as I'm paying the bills, you'll do what I say!" Barbara's bottom cheeks flexed defensively as she recalled the extremely unfortunate choice of words. Although she hadn't experienced it herself, she knew from her daughter's reaction that, though the slipper didn't do any actual damage, it stung like a fury. And to make matters even worse, she had always spanked Jenny bare-bottom. Barbara fidgeted in her seat as she contemplated her options.  Although Jenny had inherited her mother's drive and determination, she had inherited her large frame from her father.  At 5'10", Jenny..; was a full 8 inches taller than her mother, and, although Barbara was in excellent shape, she knew that, if push came to shove, her muscular and athletic daughter could handle her easily. At the first stoplight, Jenny stopped to buckle Barbie's belt. The action was noticed by an old woman in the crosswalk who smiled approvingly. Barbara looked at her daughter closely. Jenny had exchanged her contacts for her emergency wire rim glasses, doubtlessly to look older. With her stylishly short hair, makeup, and power suit, she looked every bit the young professional. Barbara barely recognized the tiny girl with the pony tail whose reflection stared stupidly back at her.  Without makeup, she looked every bit as young as her clothes suggested. "You know, Barbie, if your new uniform is REALLY cute, maybe we can have you wear it to the next board meeting," Jenny chuckled. "What better way to prove how darling they are then to model one for all your friends?" Jenny eventually tired of teasing her mother, and Barbara at last closed her eyes.  It had been a hard day on the tennis courts, and she was relieved that her daughter was driving. As her mind began to drift, she began to think about her school uniform.  She hoped it was plaid; she liked plaid.  A white blouse and a knee-length skirt would be nice.  If done correctly, she might even look like a stewardess. But, as she drifted farther off, other images invaded her mind. Her flight attendant fantasy quickly devolved into a nightmare of curfews, homework, and school rules. She was at the Board meeting now, and she was wearing the school uniform. Mr. Peepers and Jimmy both had front row seats, and they grinned broadly as the superintendent of schools turned Barbie over his knee. "As you can see, these uniforms make it easy to raise a girl's skirt and lower her underpants for a spanking," he said, pedantically. "Here...let me demonstrate...." The scene shifted suddenly and she felt dazed.  There was a hand on her shoulder, shaking her, and then her daughter's voice, "Wake up, Barbie!  We're here." Barbie wiped her eyes. Although she hated the idea of marching through the mall in her skimpy outfit, she was nonetheless relieved to be rescued from her Halloween fright-mare. Little did she know that the real nightmare was just beginning.  After less than a minute in the mall, Barbie realized that her daughter had been right about her clothing. While the professionally attired Jenny earned nary a glance, Barbie's skimpy outfit made her a visual target. Most men noticed her bare midriff before their eyes traveled down her legs. A few took their time; others quickly dismissed her as tasty but deadly jail-bait.   Sometimes they just gave her a quick leer; it was the men seated on the benches who seemed to make the most leisurely appraisals. Most of them never even bothered to make eye contact although a few did take the time for a suggestive smile. Barbie liked the men who simply ogled her better than the men that ogled and then smiled. The smiles weren't friendly or warm; to her, the smiles were knowing and sarcastic. The smiles slyly suggested Barbie was a little bimbo unworthy of serious attention.   It was a sign of contempt.  "You look nice today, you little tease," their smiles seemed to say. "Do you know what I would like to do to you?" Most of the women didn't make eye contact either, but the few who did look her in the face, didn't bother to hide their loathing or disgust. Barbie knew the look well; it was the same look that she routinely gave to Britney wannabes. Barbie wanted to stop the women and explain that she wasn't a little tramp.  She was one of them. But, deep down, she knew that it would do no good. She was no longer one of them. Now she was one of THEM. By the time their long march to the uniform store ended, Barbie felt totally defeated. The perky tone of the old woman running the shop did little to help her spirits. The woman totally ignored Barbie and focused instead on Jenny. "What can I do for you today, ma'am?" the old woman asked, pleasantly. "Let me guess...surgical scrubs?  A nurse's uniform, perhaps?" "No, it's not for me; it's for my daughter," Jennifer said.  "She's going to be giving a talk on school uniforms, and I wanted to see if we could find one for her to wear as sort of a demonstration." "Splendid," the clerk replied. "We have uniforms from all of the local schools.  They're all along the back wall.  Was there something in particular you were interested in?" Barbie seized the opportunity. "I wanted something that was plaid...not too uniformy, but kind of...." But Jenny had already moved to a rack in the back. "What is this?" she asked, holding up a short gray blazer. "You have excellent taste," the clerk gushed.  "Those are the uniforms for Paddywell Academy." "Paddywell?" Jenny said, her curiosity piqued. "I've never heard of it."   "It's a private reformatory for young women aged 18 to 40.  The; women are usually there for petty offenses -- library fines, parking violations, jaywalking, that sort of thing. The headmaster, Dr. Leamus, says the structured boarding school environment turns even the most obnoxious hellion into a polite little girl." The clerk dropped her voice and whispered to Jenny.  "Of course, there WAS that scandal a few years ago, but that doesn't seem to have slowed the place down very much." "Scandal?" Barbie said.  "What sort of scandal?" The clerk blithely ignored Barbie and kept on talking to Jenny. "As you can see the blazer is 100% polyester.  It's stain-resistant and machine washable, so...." "Tell me about the scandal," Jenny said. "Well, a few years ago, one of the girls escaped.  Don't ask me how; the security there is like Alcatraz. Anyway, she went to the police and claimed that the male professors watched the young women in the shower, and spanked them, and...um...used them."   The clerk dropped her voice and whispered in Jenny's ear, "That is, used them in...inappropriate ways." "I think I get the picture," Jenny said.  "What happened?" "Nothing, of course," the saleswoman shrugged.  "The Sheriff and the mayor are both on Paddywell's board.  Actually, if you want to visit, it's just a mile down the road.   It's a big Gothic building on top of a hill.  There's a huge stone wall around it and, about 100 yards beyond that, an electric fence.  It's so close that sometimes when I walk out to my car at night I can actually hear the guard dogs barking.  I think I have a business card somewhere...." "Guard dogs?" Barbie said.  "Electric fence?" The older woman looked over her glasses at Barbie. "Your habit of interrupting adults suggests a visit to Paddywell might be just the thing you need," she said, slyly. Barbie swallowed. She wasn't interrupting.  She was just asking a question.  It wasn't fair! After putting Barbie back in her place, the clerk immediately returned to her conversation with Jenny. "I should warn you in advance that Dr. Leamus takes only students who are 18 years or older." Barbie's jaw dropped. She had been worried that no one would believe that she was Jenny's daughter. But obviously that was not a problem. The salesclerk handed Barbie the skirt and jacket combination. "This is your size, dear; why don't you go into the changing room and try it on?" "Do you sell regulation Academy underwear?" Jenny asked. "Of course. But, if your daughter tries it on, you can't return it." "No problem.  I guarantee you are going to get a sale tonight." The clerk's mood brightened further.  "I'll get it right away, ma'am. And a regulation blouse and tie, as well." Barbie looked at the outfit doubtfully. It was a gray blazer with an ugly gold, red, and blue patch on the breast. The words "PADDYWELL" was written out in Gothic script in a crescent curve at the top of the patch.  Below that was a picture of a paddle, a tawse, and a cane, crossed to form a sort of 6-pointed star. At the bottom of the patch was a Latin phrase: Castigo Acerbe Castigo Nudos It was exactly what Barbie didn't want.  The absurd and brightly colored patch eliminated the slightest doubt that this was a school uniform. And the image of the cane and strap would doubtlessly draw nervous laughter and knowing smiles from everyone who saw it. "I don't think a bra is really necessary in her case," the clerk said, coldly, once again referring to Barbie in the 3rd person. "Dr. Leamus prefers tight half-shirts for the underdeveloped girls." "I'm not a girl, and I'm not underdeveloped," Barbie shot back. "And you need glasses, you old biddy." "Barbie, I'm shocked...SHOCKED!" Jenny said in her best "hand-in-the-cookie-jar" voice. "Here this nice woman is trying to help us, and you insult her.  We're going to have a lot to talk about tonight, young lady." Jenny took the other things from the clerk and tossed them to Barbie, who managed to catch them, awkwardly. "Changing room!" Jenny said.  "March!" Barbie couldn't decide what was the worst part of this experience. Was it the uniform? The way her opinions were being ignored?  The ugly and ominous patch?  Her daughter's attitude? As she slouched off to the changing room, holding the uniform in one hand and the underwear in the other, feeling like a prisoner walking the last mile, Barbie decided that it was definitely the salesclerk's smug, superior smile. The one good thing about the skimpy outfit Jenny had given her to wear was that it didn't take long to remove.  Barbie ripped the cellophane off the panties and quickly put them on. The low-rise panties were snug and tight, with a very high leg cut. As she looked over her shoulder, she could see that the waistband left the top of her buttocks just barely visible. In front, a few blonde pubic hairs peeked out enticingly. Although the underpants were plain, white, undecorated cotton they were unlike any school uniform panties she had ever seen.  These underpants were not designed for comfort or wear. At a real reformatory these panties would make no sense.  But, as she recalled the salesclerk's whispered tales of "inappropriate" behavior, the puzzle came together. These panties were selected by a man. Barbie's realization was interrupted by a flood of light as the salesclerk casually ripped open the changing room curtain.   "You see, I was right," the woman said, brightly. "She doesn't need a bra at all." Barbie's arms flew over her chest to cover her tiny buds. "You hurry up and change, dear...quick like a bunny!" the clerk patronized. "Your mother looks like a very sophisticated and successful woman, and I'm sure she has lots of important things to do." The salesclerk didn't even notice Barbie's infuriated scowl, not that it would have mattered if she had. As the woman walked away, Barbie saw Jenny standing by, arms folded. Jenny's satisfied "I-told-you-so" grin spoke volumes. Barbie tried not to expose herself as she closed the curtain, but it was yet another battle that she lost.  And Jenny's smug laughter made her defeat all the more complete. Her daughter HAD told her so, but she wouldn't listen.  Barbie was too smart, too educated, too worldly to let a little thing like a change of clothes get the better of her. What a difference a few hours can make. She quickly pulled on her t-shirt. As she had feared, the tight half-shirt left her flat as a board. The starched blouse and, dorky clip-on tie were awful, and the scratchy gray micro-skirt barely covered her underpants. When Barbie walked out into the main store in her new uniform, the salesclerk actually clapped her hands. "How delightful! How charming!  It's as cute as a bug." To her distress, Barbie noticed that another couple had entered the store. The woman was looking at nurses' uniforms while her bored husband sat in a chair and stared blankly into space. But when the man saw Barbie leave the dressing room, he quickly changed chairs to that he could get a better view. "Why don't you walk back and forth, and turn a few times, so we can get a better look at it, dear," the clerk suggested, unhelpfully. Barbie looked at the grinning man nervously. She hated the uniform, and she hated the way everyone was looking at her. But when her "Mother" nodded, she reluctantly began to "model" the clothes. She tried to tug/pull the skirt down as she walked back and forth. "I think you made a mistake with the skirt," she said anxiously. "This is WAY too short." "No, that's how it's supposed to be, dear," the clerk replied, condescendingly. "The stricter the school, the shorter the skirt." The salesclerk once again redirected her conversation to the woman with the checkbook, Jenny. "And, as you can see, Paddywell is as strict as they come.  Isn't it just ADORABLE?" "Just peachy!" Jenny replied.  "So M-...uh...Barbie, what do you think of school uniforms NOW?" "I hate it!  I look like a dork!  The tie is so nerdy, and the skirt barely covers my butt!"   "Perfect!" Jenny said, enthusiastically. "We'll take it." "But, MOM!" Barbie whined. "I can't wear THIS! If the wind blows...." The salesclerk lifted the front of Barbie's skirt and completed the sentence in a sing-song voice, "Everyone will see where the grass grows!" Barbie looked across the room at the grinning man, who was now staring directly at the curly blonde hairs at the top of her pubic mound.   Crimson-faced, Barbie angrily yanked her skirt down. She couldn't believe that the old woman had just lifted her skirt.  IN PUBLIC! "You know, Dr. Leamus usually keeps the girls shaved for just that reason," the clerk said, her voice once again dropping to a whisper.  "You really should consider that if she is going to be wearing this on a regular basis." "I'll certainly keep that in mind," Jenny said, thoughtfully. "What about shoes?" Barbie spent another 30 minutes parading around the store in the skimpy uniform, much to the amusement of the seated male customer.  The poor man just wasn't able to find anything he liked his wife in for the longest time. First there were the black shoes, then the socks.  And the clerk spent more time fitting Barbie with the atrociously ugly school cap than she had fitting her with the uniform. "Should I wrap it...or will she just wear it home?" the clerk suggested, maliciously, as she swiped Jenny's credit card. (The old biddy!  She knew that Barbie hated that uniform, and now she wanted to make her parade around the mall in it.) "No, please wrap it up," Jenny said.  "I want to keep it nice. Jenny turned to Barbie.  "Go change back into your regular clothes, dear. I saw another place I wanted to stop at on the way out." "Quick like a bunny!" the salesclerk added, merrily. For the first time the clerk had actually asked Barbie to do something she WANTED to do.  Jenny chuckled as she watched Barbie obediently scurry back to the changing room.