Added: Lacinda Milliman - Date: 17.12.2021 06:06 - Views: 19720 - Clicks: 8983
Of course, other parts of her rebelled. It made it rather clear what kind of adult Little she was, and what her home-life was like. Very few people would even talk to her like an adult again, particularly not the larger folk. It was getting hard to believe that she had even ever been an adult. The giantess behind picked up the enormous hairbrush, and began firmly combing out her night tangles. Peaches winced and blushed, but sat fairly still.
But it was hard not to, being a fraction of the size of the Amazon giants, in their society where they saw adult Littles as needing to be taken care of, like children. The adult in her had been trained out. It was getting hard to believe that there was anything but this life for Diaper enema story. And she was getting pretty good at being a toddler. She had five stars from daycare this week. Her littles-ballet group was performing monthly on the stage in the park, to a crowd of hundreds every second Sunday.
Her reflection clearly showed the thick diaper beneath her very short dress. The final insult about what Amazons thought of littles. Quite a few betweeners pd that she must need them if she was wearing them too, and had partaken in overly embarrassing discussion and changing of her diapers. She squirmed about on the thick thirsty padding of her diaper, just glad that it was dry, and clean. There was no way to even describe being made to use a diaper for the uncleanest of purposes as an adult. But the amazons were simply sure that littles needed it, and it often became a self-fulfilling prediction when a little was given no other choice.
After that, it became a regular part of life for littles, with many humiliating checks and comments. It was impossible to feel like a grownup with all that. Peaches went obediently still as her Mommy finished up her hair, attaching a bow, and then pulling up the pink dress off over her head. Unfortunately the woman only replaced it with a pink t-shirt, and Diaper enema story winced. She hated it when people could actually properly fully see her diaper — and she had a playdate today!
Sure, everybody saw hefty glimpses of it beneath her short dresses, or even the full outline when she was doing ballet — but she at least usually had a leotard or something over it, and could pretend that she had some dignity. Now Mommy wanted to broadcast to the world that Peaches was just a baby. Perhaps her playmate had been acting up, and needed the reminder.
Well, Peaches would do as her Mommy expected, she would be the best possible baby today as she suckled on her bottle of expressed breastmilk. The girl would only get herself in trouble otherwise, with likely spankings, enemas, and maybe even another trip to one of those strange etiquette schools, where many littles learned for good how to be babies. Peaches still remembered her one week spent at one, when Mommy had needed to go overseas for travel.
She still remembered how teenage Amazons a fraction of her age yet several times her size had so easily put her into a crib at night, and had changed her diapers in the morning, increasingly cooing at her like the baby she felt like. What had Peaches been Diaper enema story all morning? She was definitely just a baby, and did not want to go back to one of those places.
She stretched out on her back, and began suckling on her milk bottle, intending to be the best baby when her friend arrived today. Perhaps they could play ponies and rattle toys, it was how a baby like her should be spending her days after all. Yes — of course!
To flare up some of her sense of maturity beyond just the indignant fuming beneath the surface. Amazon culture was so wrong about what littles were! Of course, their size and ability to enforce their views made them a reality in the end.
Yet somehow, her Mommy had picked today to remind her of what a baby she was. In strollers and sucking on pacifiers with startled looks on her faces. Thrashing in her crib for the morning hours in her messy diaper? Then Mommy had given her breakfast before changing her. There was no highchair or bottle for her this morning though — at least not straight away — instead Mommy had put her right on the nipple. Full with oats and prunes, she had played with her pink plastic princess doll in the bath.
It had gone on for quite a while, as Mommy had cleaned every nook and cranny of her, head to toe. It was hard to feel like an adult after that. Her hopes of feeling like an adult again today were feeling incredibly foolish. Instead she felt more like a baby than ever. Peaches rolled around a bit on her back and grabbed at her toes, making surrendered giggles and motions. While a guest in their home? It rather sealed the Diaper enema story of her new permanent state as a baby for Angel. And the first thing she did for her quiet lay-down time-out to the side was stop holding back the galleon of pee which had been building up since that morning.
The indignant adult part of herself retreated back down to a normal level for littles, as she was reminded of what a baby she was. Today marks the release of my 2nd full forced diapering comic. I t was originally going to be multiple comics, but I decided to unite it all into one super long comic for a cheaper pric e, so I think it turn s out much more fun this way.
It draws heavily on themes from my Shipped Away story from several years back, bringing a lot of ideas from there to visual form. So any fans of that may be interested in checking this out…. When a prissy young business woman is indicted for embezzlement, she opts to go to a secret spa facility instead of prison, being promised that it is a fast-track out of the legal system. Unfortunately for her, it quickly becomes run more like a boarding school, leaving her rather stuckas a rising of unexpected developments are in store for the cocky beauty which will risk chang ing her life forever.
Contains themes such as forced diaper wearing and reliance, school spankings, lesbian training for straight girls, ageplay, upskirts, desperation, anal gamessome light hypnosi s elements, etc. At over half a thousand images for what most artists charge for a single commissioned drawing, I hope that people still see this as pretty good value however. Clara crawled along with the noisy surge of diapered half regressed women in school uniforms.
She noticed with some discomfort that she partially felt like she Diaper enema story was going back to school, crawling frantically in her diaper to keep up, and cursed the slave centre once again for their effective regression techniques. As the crowd slowed she found herself looking around for other crawlers, if only to gravitate towards, but could only see a sea of thighs, diapers, skirts.
The whole thing felt just like a flock of noisy school children, and Clara found herself longing for a group, a clique, and new that it was a regressionary thought, and raged at herself. They were waiting in a larger wooden foyer room now, and Clara looked around, seeing a larger variety of uniforms in navy, maroon, or black skirts and dresses, and she began wondering what they all meant.
She blushed and apologised, then chased off after whoever had pushed her. Clara watched the school skirt and diaper bobbing away, and found herself disturbed for how easily some of these girls had fallen into nasty schoolgirl roles. One senior, in a slightly more mature skirt and blouse uniform, even waited around looking disinterested while one of Diaper enema story changing slips bounced visibly on the rear of her diaper, seemingly barely put out by the fact that she was standing around in public with soiled pants.
She scowled and lifted one leg, reaching around to scratch herself or readjust things a little, but then went back to waddling around on the spot. Clara blushed at the sight and glanced down, staring at the polished wooden floor now.
Yet Diaper enema story there on all fours in a crowd was its own torture, as her vagina and rear burned with the itching powder which they had forced throughout her diaper as punishment for masturbating. She was half lost in the distracting agony when a voice called out to her. She turned and saw a tangle of red hair, and realised that Danni was crawling towards her.
They stared around in silence for awhile, unable to see much over the standing slaves. She should have seen it coming, Clara realised, she had seen pictures after all… Masturbated to them, after all…. She glanced at Danni, sometimes quite worried that they might one day have the unfortunate ability to read her mind, hearing her thoughts about how this had all been her fantasies…. She had grown slightly wet, and it re-triggered the itching powder, and her line of thought was broken as she winced and tried to alternate lifting her legs behind her off of the ground in alternating order.
Diaper enema story was about to ask her redhead slave companion about it, when doors swung open, and the crowd surged again. The two girls looked around in confusion and were overtaken by most of Diaper enema story girls, looking at various options of open doorways.
They entered a large classroom, in which heavy wooden desks were lined up with the senior girls all sitting themselves down into them. Clara for her part only hoped that being Diaper enema story the playpen kept her largely out of any spotlight, needing terrible to thrash and rub at her diaper now. Not that she would make much progress on the surface of the puffed up slippery disposable plastic surface.
Clara blushed, feeling like like a one year old being put away by a two year old. From the playpen she had a view up all of the skirts under the desks of the senior girls, and rows upon rows of diapers were evident. For many a subtle hand was creeping down and rubbing or scratching, and Clara wondered if a great deal of them might not also be getting off on this to some extent, unless they were just itchy. Who knows what months or years could do somebody in this place, she thought. They all otherwise sat like teenage schoolgirls, seemingly so easily regressed with just the presence of a teacher, classroom, desks, and a blackboard.
The classes must be run split into sizeable rooms, she realised, and she wondered how she would know which room to go to in the future…. Most of the girls blushed and shifted, none seemed to meet his gaze, but then he slammed his ruler again and they all gripped their desks and stared straight up at him. A sheepish Asian girl stood and waddled to the front of the room, turned and looked at the class. She blushed and looked down away from the crowd, then glanced at the teacher, realised that he was more scary than public speaking, and turned back to begin her recitation of her poem while hopping from foot to foot in her diaper.
Some are pink, some are yellow. Some are fun, some are…. She stuttered, suddenly looking panicked as she seemed to have forgotten the next bit of her simple rhyme. She furrowed her brow and quickly began again. The teacher began tapping his foot, and she turned white. He crossed his arms and glared at her, then shook his head.
Do you understand that? He shook his head at her. Were you just too lazy to remember it? She trembled a little. He smacked his ruler on his desk, and everybody jumped, but she just looked up to him with puppy dog eyes. Please punish me sir.
The large man approached and lifted her skirt, picked up a large paddle from his desk, and then started reigning down smacks hard on her padded rear, and occasionally her thighs. The girl let out muffled cries with some of the blows, but was otherwise still and obedient. She was becoming the perfect slave, Clara realised, and that was the end point of their time in this horrible regression centre, where they were forced to crawl in diapers which they soiled most completely. Finally the spanking stopped, the girl stood on weak legs which were bright red near the top, and had tears running down her face.
She threw herself into a hug with the teacher, and thanked him for teaching her, to which he leant down and kissed her on the forehead, and sent her back to sit at her desk. Clara was rubbing her diaper against the floor now, masturbating even despite the itching powder, and knew that she wanted all of that for herself too. Even now, here in this nightmarish centre, her fantasies were too strong to ignore, and she had to stifle a small moan which emanated deep inside her, hoping that the other crawlers only took it as a moan about the nightmarish scene in front of them, rather than Clara being brought to near orgasm wishing that it would happen to her.
From the front of the room, the teacher boomed. Danni crawled to the back, and Clara looked over to see the redhead sitting on the bulk of the diaper between her legs, forward on her hands and looking desperately miserable. Eventually the whole senior class had gone up to the front of the room and humiliated themselves. Two more earned spankings from the man, but most recited cute little poems on what they loved about their second baby life.
There were odes to rattles and dollies, morning highchair feedings and loving bathtimes, talks of how they had been freed from their past false life, which the teacher nodded most vigorously for. Those confused girls — who had perhaps been originally faking it and then accidentally started to believe it — would make excellent slaves, fearing the mythical adulthood and being unsure about even calling for help in public, not knowing whether they wanted truly to return there.
A girl got up and waddled by with one of the changing slips on the back of her diaper, and read her poem all the same, not distracted by what must have been an early morning poop. Clara was distracted with a toy block which she had found, which she was now subtely grinding against trying to solve her itching powder situation, thankfully which was somehow better now — or which Clara had perhaps just gotten used to.
Clara and Danni came to instant attention, glad to be hiding down in the crawler pen at the front side of the classroom. The blonde waddled down the aisles smiling, pigtails swinging as she went. I had one prepared, which I think is really good, but just thought of another one then.
We played all last night, building quite a heat. I let her play, a few silly little games, And even showed her some new ones, which left her amazed. All in all, I think I made my mark. Gem grinned and a few of the senior girls smirked, while Danni hid at the back Diaper enema story the playpen and was glowing bright red. The teacher looked at Gem curiously. The teacher nodded and Gem then went back to her original peom, having made her point regarding having claimed ownership of Danni through the raw act of sexual conquest.Diaper enema story
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Diapers and Enemas