Nebraska

I flinched, inhaling sharply through my nose as her gripped the front of the diaper and held the bottle to my mouth as I drank. I blushed feeling her hand press into my crotch, separted by the thick padding. My arms tensed, wanting to push her away as she taunted down  at me with her sadistic smile and over the top baby talk. I glared at her, drinking the bottle to the end before FINALLY pulling my head away and pushing the bottle away.  "There...  happy?" my words filled with venom as I turned away, wiping my own eyes and any evidence of my tears away. 

Willing to buy both opened and unopened cases in the US. Only interested in prints! My waist size is 26", must fit within that range. Rearz, ABU, Potty Training Dropouts, Kiddos, and others okay! Bambinos Smalls are a no-go. Would prefer someone selling a variety, but not picky.

I'm curious to see how things go when Stella falls asleep for the first time.  Will there be some embedded biological responses?

Patty continues her spiral to babyhood, with her "baby sister" as her model. ------------------------------------------------------------------- Later that morning, Dana announced it was time for a walk.  Dana stood over them, slipping on her jacket. “Alright, babies. It’s time to go out for a little walk. Mommy has something special planned.” Patty's heart leapt. Go out? In public? Dressed like this? Dana knelt, stroking each bonneted head. “Don’t fuss. You’re both diapered, powdered, and safe. Mommy won’t let anyone hurt you. But you’ll remember — no walking, no talking. Just crawling, babbling, and sucking. If Mommy gives you a bottle, you drink it. If Mommy checks your diaper, you hold still. Understood?” Both babies nodded, wide-eyed. Dana smiled. “Good girls. Now let’s get you ready.” She led them outside to the garden where a double stroller waited — wide, reinforced, designed to carry two oversized babies. It had pastel canopy shades, padded seats, and safety harnesses thick as seatbelts. Dana lifted Patty first, buckling her in with the straps tight across her chest. Her diapered bottom spread wide across the cushioned seat, crinkling audibly. Dana tugged the strap snug between her thighs, making sure she could barely shift. Then she secured her sister beside her, two giant babies strapped in shoulder to shoulder. “Pacifiers in,” Dana ordered, slipping them back into both mouths. “Hands on your tummies, no fiddling. Babies ride quietly.” The stroller rolled with surprising smoothness as Dana pushed them down the quiet neighborhood street. Patty flushed as they passed trimmed hedges and neat driveways. Every creak of the stroller wheels, every soft crinkle of her diaper, felt deafening in the still morning air. As Dana pushed the stroller down the quiet neighborhood lane, Dana spoke softly but instructively to Patty. “You know, little one, it wasn’t always easy with your baby sister here. Oh, the fits she had when Mommy first took away her big boy privileges. The sulking, the begging to be treated like a man again. There were tantrums. Oh, such tantrums. Tears, pouting, stomping — as if any of that could change Mommy’s mind. But Mommy knew better. Babies need boundaries. And slowly, with love and firmness, she learned.” Patty listened, rapt and squirming slightly in her seat. Dana continued, voice calm but firm, like a testimony of her triumph. “My baby girl used to fight her diapers, but the diapers always win in the end. There were blowouts. Accidents so messy I had to strip her in the bathtub. Mess after mess until she finally accepted that’s what she was meant for. Now she’s exactly what she was meant to be. A happy baby girl. No pressure to be an adult. Just Mommy’s baby forever.” She glanced down at them both, their pacifiers bobbing as they sat trapped in the stroller, thick diapers bulging under their baby clothes. “And Patty too — my sweet new baby girl. You'll learn the same way. Big girl thoughts, big girl pride. That will all melt away once the diapers stay on long enough. That’s what Mommy is here for — to guide, to correct, and to keep you happy. Mommy always wins.” Patty flushed, gripping the stroller straps, feeling a strange thrill at the mix of humiliation and comfort. They reached a small secluded park, empty except for a sandbox under the trees. Dana unbuckled them both and guided them down into the sand, handing them plastic shovels and pails. The two oversized babies knelt awkwardly in the sand, their padded bottoms making movement clumsy. “There,” she said warmly. “Playtime for my babies.” Patty hesitated, then knelt awkwardly, feeling the diaper bulk between her thighs. Her sister babbled softly behind her pacifier and began scooping sand. Patty joined her, the play oddly soothing. Patty and Dana’s husband dug slowly, side by side, building little mounds and knocking them down. Dana watched from a nearby bench, the picture of contentment, while her diapered charges played like toddlers. Dana watched fondly from a bench. “That’s my babies. So precious, playing together.” But after a while, Dana’s sharp eyes caught the telltale wiggle. Patty followed her gaze and saw her baby sister pause, legs spreading slightly, body crouching. Patty gasped softly, but Dana only chuckled, rising from her seat. She came over, crouched down, and patted the seat of his romper. Her hand pressed into the thick bulk of his diaper and came away with a knowing smile. “Mm-hmm. Just as I thought. That’s a very full diaper, baby girl. Such a stinky present for Mommy." She wrinkled her nose playfully and patted his bottom. “Time to head home, my loves. Diaper changes await.” Patty's heart thumped — she knew her own diaper would be checked soon, too. Standing, she took both babies by the hand. “Time to head home. Come along now — back into the stroller. We’ll get you both changed properly at home.” Back home, the afternoon sun streamed through the curtains, filling the living room with a warm glow. Inside the giant playpen, Patty and her baby sister, each now in fresh diapers, babbled and crawled among the toys, pacifiers bobbing as they clutched plush animals and soft blocks. Dana let them play for a while before rising from the sofa, smoothing her skirt. “Alright, babies. Mommy has something new for you. Playtime is about to get a little… messy.” Both babies froze mid-rattle shake, looking up with wide, uncertain eyes. Dana only smiled and returned with a low plastic tray filled with small tubs of finger paints, pudding cups, and little bowls of water with floating ducks. “Babies need sensory play,” Dana explained, setting the tray in the middle of the pen. “Touch, taste, smell — all the things that remind you how small you are. Mommy will guide you.” She stripped them both of their little dresses, leaving them in just their thick diapers, plastic pants, socks, and bonnets. “There. That way, Mommy won’t worry about ruining your pretty outfits.” Patty flushed as Dana smeared a blob of red paint across her palm. “Go on, baby girl. Spread it. Make handprints. Don’t think — just smear.” Patty pressed her hand against the paper Dana had laid out, leaving a streaky, clumsy shape. Her baby sister laughed through her pacifier and plunged both hands into a tub of yellow, smacking it onto the paper until paint splattered her diaper cover. “That’s my babies,” Dana said approvingly, snapping photos with her phone. “So innocent, so messy. No thoughts beyond colors and shapes.” Patty giggled despite herself, dragging blue streaks across the page, then dipping her fingers into green. She glanced at Dana for approval, and Dana nodded, smiling with quiet triumph. “Now,” Dana continued, “something a little tastier.” She peeled the lids off chocolate and vanilla pudding cups, scooping a spoonful onto each girl’s high chair tray. Patty hesitated as Dana strapped her into the oversized high chair beside her sister. “No spoons, babies. Use your hands. Babies don’t need manners.” Her sister was quicker — she plunged both hands into the chocolate, smearing it across her face, diaper, and tray, babbling happily. Patty followed suit more hesitantly, dipping her fingers and bringing the goo to her mouth. The sweetness coated her tongue, but the stickiness spread across her cheeks and chin. Dana clapped softly. “Good girls! Just like toddlers. Messy, sticky, silly babies.” She snapped another picture. “Look at my little ones, covered in pudding and paint. This is exactly how babies should be.” Patty's embarrassment gave way to a helpless laugh. By the end, both girls were smeared head to toe, diapers streaked, bonnets stained. Dana herded them to the bathroom, removing bonnets, socks, and plastic pants. Their thick diapers sagged, stained with paint and pudding. Dana chuckled, shaking her head. “Just look at you two. Utter messes. But Mommy doesn’t mind — babies are supposed to be messy.” She stripped the diapers away and lifted each girl, one by one, into the wide bathtub filled with warm water and bubbles. Rubber duckies and floating toys bobbed around them. “Sit down, bottoms in,” Dana instructed, lowering Patty gently. Patty sank into the bubbles, cheeks pink. Her sister plopped beside her, splashing immediately. Dana knelt with a washcloth, lathering baby shampoo. She washed Patty's hair, scrubbing gently until it foamed, then rinsed with a cup of warm water. “Good baby. Mommy takes care of everything.” She did the same for her sister, then moved to their arms, bellies, and legs. Patty tried to cover herself, but Dana tapped her hands away. “No modesty, little one. Babies don’t have privacy. Everything belongs to Mommy.” Dana lathered Patty's body, humming a lullaby. She scrubbed under arms, behind ears, between legs, not shying from a single crease. Patty flushed at every stroke of the washcloth, but Dana’s voice soothed her. “Shh, babies don’t have modesty. They just get clean for Mommy.” Once both were scrubbed pink and clean, Dana lifted them onto thick towels, drying every inch. When both were rinsed and patted dry, Dana sat back with a sigh of satisfaction, admiring her work. “Two freshly washed babies. Smelling sweet, ready for more of Mommy’s care.” “One more lesson before bedtime,” she said firmly. “Baby girls need reminders every day of who makes the rules.” She produced a wooden paddle from the dresser. Patty's eyes widened, but Dana only smiled. “Not hard. Just enough to keep you obedient.” “Maintenance, babies,” Dana said firmly. “Sometimes, even the happiest baby girls need a reminder that Mommy is in charge. And that big girl thoughts must stay out. This helps you remember. It helps you let go.” Dana seated herself in the nursery’s rocking chair and beckoned for her husband first. The man who once had been her equal stood before her, pacifier in his mouth. Without ceremony, she flipped him over her knees. Patty sat frozen on the play mat, pacifier pumping as she watched. Dana raised her hand and brought it down with sharp, echoing smacks. “This isn’t punishment,” she explained over the sound of her paddle connecting. “It’s maintenance. It keeps my baby girl soft, obedient, and reminded who is in charge.” Her husband kicked and whimpered, but Dana held him firm, paddling until his pale skin glowed pink. “Every baby has big feelings sometimes. Paddling clears them out. No room left for pride, only submission.”   Patty's face burned as she watched. There was something terrifying and magnetic about it — the sheer inevitability, the way Dana’s husband melted into a sobbing, pacified baby across her lap. When it was over, Dana kissed his tear-streaked cheeks. “There now. All gone. Mommy still loves her baby girl.” Then Dana gestured to Patty. “Your turn, little one. Mommy will remind you too.” Patty felt a shiver of fear and excitement as Dana pulled over her knees exposing her bare bottom.  “Good girl,” Dana whispered, patting her bottom. “That’s exactly why we do this. So babies stay babies. So you remember your place.” She let Dana paddle her firmly. Patty whimpered softly, more from the intensity of surrender than from pain. Each strike brought a mixture of sting, warmth, and submission, and by the time Dana stopped, Patty's bottom was warm and tingling. “Good girls,” Dana praised, kissing each head after. “That’s how we stay soft and sweet.” Dana led both of them, hand-in-hand from the bathroom to the nursery. Dana settled Patty onto the changing table. She massaged lotion into her skin with firm, loving hands, then sprinkled powder across her bottom. Thick double diapers were slid beneath each, taped snugly and crinkling loudly as she patted the fronts. Fresh plastic pants followed.   She repeated the diapering process for Patty's sister. Clouds of sweet scent filled the nursery as she pinned thick nighttime diapers around her baby girl husband's hips. Dana dressed them in matching soft pastel onesies — Patty in pale yellow, her sister in mint green. The bulk of their diapers made them waddle awkwardly, but Dana only smiled. Sliding her hands over their frilly bottoms, she said, “Perfect little babies.” Patty's heart fluttered as Dana kissed her forehead. She felt impossibly small, reduced to nothing but the padding around her hips and the approval in Dana’s eyes. Then came the final ritual. Dana reclined on the nursery rocker, opening her blouse. She drew Patty first into her arms, guiding her head to her breast. “Now, babies, it’s time for nursing,” Dana said. “Not a reward, not a treat. This is what babies do. It keeps you calm, comforted, and bonded. Mommy’s breasts are for her little girls.” Patty's heart raced as Dana guided her to the side, unbuttoning her blouse to reveal her nursing bra. She gently positioned Patty's mouth to her nipple. “Latch, baby,” she murmured. Patty latched on instinctively, her lips closing over Dana’s nipple. Warmth flooded her mouth as she suckled, eyes half-lidded, Dana’s heartbeat steady against her cheek. “You’re doing so well, baby girl,” Dana whispered. “Such a perfect little nursling. This is how babies let go. This is how you feel safe. Feel Mommy’s milk fill you, let all your big-girl thoughts drift away.” Beside her, Dana’s husband also nursed, hands clutching the soft fabric of Dana’s shirt, eyes half-closed in contentment. Dana stroked his bonnet. “Don’t worry, sweet girl. Mommy has plenty for both of you.” The room filled with the soft, rhythmic sucking, the faint crinkle of diapers, and Dana’s low, loving murmurs. The room grew hushed, the only sound the soft suckling of two oversized babies, the creak of the rocker, Dana’s voice humming a lullaby that seemed older than time. “Mommy’s proud,” Dana said, kissing both of their foreheads. “Perfect babies. Safe, warm, and loved. This is your life now — diapers, bottles, pacifiers, nursing, and Mommy’s care. Nothing else matters.” Patty felt herself melting completely, a warmth spreading through her chest, her body pliant and eager to stay in this state forever. She nuzzled closer, hands clumsily brushing Dana’s shirt. Dana smiled, rocking gently, letting both of them nurse until their eyes drooped, their bodies relaxed in helpless bliss. And as Dana watched over her two nurslings, stroking their soft heads, she whispered, “My perfect little girls.” When both had nursed, Dana laid them side by side in their cribs and proceeded to swaddle each of them. Both were thickly diapered, bonneted, and sucking a pacifier.  “There,” Dana said. “Ready for a long night.” Patty felt herself sink completely into the role — not an outsider observing, but part of the strange, tender family. Dana lightly touched Patty's forehead. “Mommy’s perfect babies. This is how it will always be. No worries, no decisions, no responsibilities. Just diapers, bottles, and Mommy’s love.” Dana leaned over, kissing both foreheads. “You’re Mommy’s babies forever. Safe, small, loved. Tomorrow we’ll play again, but for now, you sleep.” She raised the crib rails with a firm click and switched off the light. The nightlight glowed soft pink, casting the nursery in a gentle haze. The words felt both terrifying and deeply right. And as the night closed in, Patty realized she no longer wanted to escape. She wanted only to stay right here — forever baby, forever cared for. Patty's last conscious thought before drifting off was a mixture of shame, contentment, and the deep certainty that she was no longer an adult — she was one of Mommy’s babies, fully and utterly. Patty drifted, belly full of milk, bottom sore from spankings, heart lulled by the knowledge that Dana would always be in charge. Her last thought before sleep was simple, childlike, and complete: "I’m Mommy’s baby."

<nods> Thanks for the comments! 🙂 <nod nod> People have done very good job!!!! Sofia appreciates their valiant effort to feed her lots of likes! (And none of those nasty bananas!) Tomorrow! About 7.5 hours and I'll post it! Yes, long ways to go! Thanks for the comments! 🙂