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foofybabykitten

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Posts posted by foofybabykitten

  1. When you return I can't help but look at you dumbly, we're heading to a pizza joint and here you are dressed to the nines, granted I'm not complaining as I overtly take in your sexy legs and curves.

    "Wow, you're... Wow." Is all I can get out as 90% of my brain is focused solely on processing your beauty alone.

  2. I blush a little and shake my head, "They don't exactly know what being "little" is but they know I'm not exactly mature either. I've confided in them about my attachment to some childish stuff, like my blankie or my stuffed animals, but that's about as far as it goes." I explain as I assist you in getting me dressed, holding your shoulders and lifting my legs one at a time and stepping into my shortalls and shoes.

  3. I pout at you as you over analyze my little joke, only to squeak a little at the sudden diaper check. "Hmph my diaper isn't full, it's only like half wet." I reply to your full diaper remark, choosing to ignore the screaming remark as to not bring myself down thinking about my habit of waking up in the middle of the night crying.

      

  4. And sleep soundly I do, for a good 45 minutes I stay cuddled in my crib snoring lightly. I eventually start waking up slowly, stretching and taking my time to shake my grogginess away, just quietly enjoying my soft, warm nest; I curl up into the fetal position, bringing my thighs together I notice my diaper is a bit bulkier and wetter than before my nap, though there's still quite a lot of room left. I decide to wait in my crib until you next check on me, quietly playing with Momo until then.

  5. I'm fighting to stay awake as you soothingly rub my bottom, I've popped my thumb into my mouth and closed my eyes, seemingly asleep whilst hung over your lap; in fact I'm a rather comical sight to behold, my diapered butt in the air and my head hanging by the floor, as I appear to be sleeping.

  6. I don't even know how to articulate how much I adore your writing style, everything is so smooth and perfectly descriptive; though Alina seems a little mature for an elementary schooler, she isn't unbelievably mature either, I'm guessing that maybe her father's death had something to do with her slightly accelerated growth. I'm really looking forward to where this goes, you set as good a foundation as any, I have so any questions but they seem like they'll be answered by continuing to read so I'll hold off for now. You could say that I'm thoroughly hooked and will be logging in daily to catch the next update as soon as it's up. :lol:

  7. I continue to protest for the first few smacks, still kicking and yelling, but as the pain builds my protest become weaker and weaker as I slowly devolve into a sniveling-crying mess. 

    "I-I'm sorry! *hic* I'll, I'll b-be good, *sniffle* and t-take my *hic* nap." I cry as I try to talk, but the pain on my thighs has my nose and my eyes running rivers. 

  8. I shudder a little at the thought of being physically unable to talk like an adult, "I-Is that so?" I reach for my sippy cup to cleanse the dryness from my mouth while pretending I'm not intimidated by the idea of a numbing pacifier.

    I finish my third brownie a bit more civilized than my previous two, and I drink the last drop of my milk, before I rub my eyes with my fist sleepily, getting chocolate on my face in the process.

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