24 6 / 2014

"Hmm…" he mused, "daddy thinks it’s diaper time, princess."She sat up, a pout on her face. “What? Why?”He appeared to consider her, his lips pursed in thought. “It just makes me so nervous when you’re on the bed in just panties, sweetie. What if you had an accident?”

"Hmm…" he mused, "daddy thinks it’s diaper time, princess."

She sat up, a pout on her face. “What? Why?”

He appeared to consider her, his lips pursed in thought. “It just makes me so nervous when you’re on the bed in just panties, sweetie. What if you had an accident?”

(Source: beamhugs, via lovesfuzzystuff)

22 6 / 2014

daddybunnii:

They do exist

daddybunnii:

They do exist

(Source: peace-n-drugs.tubmlr.com)

16 6 / 2014

"No one will see up your skirt, pumpkin. Promise."That’s what daddy said, of course, and he was probably right. Somehow it didn’t make her feel any better. Maybe it had something to do with the unmuffled, extra loud, unavoidable crinkle when she walked. Daddy had no reassurances to offer about that one, did he?

"No one will see up your skirt, pumpkin. Promise."

That’s what daddy said, of course, and he was probably right.

Somehow it didn’t make her feel any better. Maybe it had something to do with the unmuffled, extra loud, unavoidable crinkle when she walked.

Daddy had no reassurances to offer about that one, did he?

(Source: enzzin, via daddy75)

22 5 / 2014

Let’s just be honest. I love getting spanked. I do not get spanked anywhere near enough.

Let’s just be honest.

I love getting spanked.

I do not get spanked anywhere near enough.

(via indesperateneed)

16 5 / 2014

Obviously we can’t really design our own relationships (there’s too much an element of the unexpected you can never account for), but if we could…I might have mine look a little like this.

Obviously we can’t really design our own relationships (there’s too much an element of the unexpected you can never account for), but if we could…

I might have mine look a little like this.

(Source: duncansnaughtycorner, via moep-moep)

26 4 / 2014

imfromjupiteralsothefuture:

i do weird things when i wake up.
:p:p;p

"You’re so mean," she whined.
"I know," he replied cheerfully. "Keep humping your diaper, little girl."

imfromjupiteralsothefuture:

i do weird things when i wake up.

:p:p;p

"You’re so mean," she whined.

"I know," he replied cheerfully. "Keep humping your diaper, little girl."

(via amaenbo-usagi)

25 4 / 2014

"It’s not fair," she sniffled.  "I’m a big girl."
He almost believed the distress in her voice, except he had two fingers knuckle deep inside her and she was clenching and dripping in a way that betrayed her real thoughts on the matter.  Crooking his fingers, he pressed in just the right spot before he asked, “So it doesn’t turn you on to know that in just a few minutes I’m going to wrap you up in the crinkliest of all crinkly diapers and make you wear it all night?”  
"No," she said automatically, but it lost some of its effect when it turned into a moan.  
"Good girls don’t lie, pumpkin.  You want to be a good girl, don’t you?  Tell me the truth."  His fingers continued their steady ministrations, plucking at her like strings on an instrument.  
"Yes," she murmured.  Her hips rocked back against his hand.  "But it’s not fair!"  
A grin curled on his lips, but she couldn’t see it with her face pushed into the bed.  She looked so cute when she tried to hide.  ”It’s not supposed to be fair.  You wouldn’t be drooling like this if it was fair,” he said, drawing his wet fingers across her thigh.  He savored the embarrassed whimper he heard from underneath the mask of hair.  ”Now tell me the truth, pumpkin.  Be a good girl.  Why are you so wet down here?”  
He continued with his fingers’ slow exploration, delving in and out and around, patiently waiting as she huffed and whimpered and clenched and unclenched her hands.  ”Because,” she began, and then paused.  ”Because you said I couldn’t use the potty all night, and you’re gonna make me wear that thing.”  
"Good girl," he cooed, rewarding her with a few careful strokes of that one spot inside.  "And why does that make you wet?"  
"I don’t wanna say.  I plead the fifth amendment," she said brattishly.  
He chuckled.  ”I don’t think the fifth amendment applies in this context, pumpkin.”  
"Hmph.  Those are my constitutional rights you’re talking about."  
"Maybe so, but I want you to tell me anyway. Why does it make you so wet to know you’re going to spend all night in a wet, squishy diaper so thick you’ll have to waddle?"  
She whimpered and sighed and wiggled against his hand, wordlessly pleading for more, but he kept stroking his fingers in and out at the same agonizingly slow pace.  ”I don’t wanna say it,” she insisted, but he waited patiently knowing she would.  ”Because I like it when you’re mean to me,” she finally confessed, almost whispering.   
"Good baby," he encouraged.  "You’re such a good little baby."  Withdrawing his fingers, he pulled over the diaper he’d laid nearby.  Taking care to rustle the plastic loudly for her benefit, he unfolded it and said, "Alright, pumpkin.  Let’s get you wrapped up before you have any accidents on the bed."  
"What…? But…? But what about…?" She stuttered in horror.  She sounded so desperate, he almost would have felt bad, if it weren’t for the sadist in him which swelled, literally, at the sound.   
He gave her a patronizing smile.  ”Well, if you’re a really good girl, maybe I’ll let you play horsey on my knee.  How about that?”
"You’re so mean," she cried, but for all her whimpering, she laid down peacefully enough and he taped her right up.

"It’s not fair," she sniffled. "I’m a big girl."

He almost believed the distress in her voice, except he had two fingers knuckle deep inside her and she was clenching and dripping in a way that betrayed her real thoughts on the matter. Crooking his fingers, he pressed in just the right spot before he asked, “So it doesn’t turn you on to know that in just a few minutes I’m going to wrap you up in the crinkliest of all crinkly diapers and make you wear it all night?”

"No," she said automatically, but it lost some of its effect when it turned into a moan.

"Good girls don’t lie, pumpkin. You want to be a good girl, don’t you? Tell me the truth." His fingers continued their steady ministrations, plucking at her like strings on an instrument.

"Yes," she murmured. Her hips rocked back against his hand. "But it’s not fair!"

A grin curled on his lips, but she couldn’t see it with her face pushed into the bed. She looked so cute when she tried to hide. ”It’s not supposed to be fair. You wouldn’t be drooling like this if it was fair,” he said, drawing his wet fingers across her thigh. He savored the embarrassed whimper he heard from underneath the mask of hair. ”Now tell me the truth, pumpkin. Be a good girl. Why are you so wet down here?”

He continued with his fingers’ slow exploration, delving in and out and around, patiently waiting as she huffed and whimpered and clenched and unclenched her hands. ”Because,” she began, and then paused. ”Because you said I couldn’t use the potty all night, and you’re gonna make me wear that thing.”

"Good girl," he cooed, rewarding her with a few careful strokes of that one spot inside. "And why does that make you wet?"

"I don’t wanna say. I plead the fifth amendment," she said brattishly.

He chuckled. ”I don’t think the fifth amendment applies in this context, pumpkin.”

"Hmph. Those are my constitutional rights you’re talking about."

"Maybe so, but I want you to tell me anyway. Why does it make you so wet to know you’re going to spend all night in a wet, squishy diaper so thick you’ll have to waddle?"

She whimpered and sighed and wiggled against his hand, wordlessly pleading for more, but he kept stroking his fingers in and out at the same agonizingly slow pace. ”I don’t wanna say it,” she insisted, but he waited patiently knowing she would. ”Because I like it when you’re mean to me,” she finally confessed, almost whispering.

"Good baby," he encouraged. "You’re such a good little baby." Withdrawing his fingers, he pulled over the diaper he’d laid nearby. Taking care to rustle the plastic loudly for her benefit, he unfolded it and said, "Alright, pumpkin. Let’s get you wrapped up before you have any accidents on the bed."

"What…? But…? But what about…?" She stuttered in horror. She sounded so desperate, he almost would have felt bad, if it weren’t for the sadist in him which swelled, literally, at the sound.

He gave her a patronizing smile. ”Well, if you’re a really good girl, maybe I’ll let you play horsey on my knee. How about that?”

"You’re so mean," she cried, but for all her whimpering, she laid down peacefully enough and he taped her right up.

(via elektrafide-deactivated20140716)

17 4 / 2014

diapersrequired:

twistedonesie:

babymatty86:

cuffed into a highchair

I love being fed from a highchair. The added bondage element is just fabulous.

The huge supply of diapers must have made being restrained in the highchair even more exciting.
Filed under: ways to actually provoke insolent toddler behavior.
As in: expect some whining, some adamant rejection of the high chair as an appropriate seat, some steadfast refusal to be fed, and some really ineffective squirming.

diapersrequired:

twistedonesie:

babymatty86:

cuffed into a highchair

I love being fed from a highchair. The added bondage element is just fabulous.

The huge supply of diapers must have made being restrained in the highchair even more exciting.

Filed under: ways to actually provoke insolent toddler behavior.

As in: expect some whining, some adamant rejection of the high chair as an appropriate seat, some steadfast refusal to be fed, and some really ineffective squirming.

(Source: babymatty86)

14 4 / 2014

"Little girls just have such wayward hands and such devious little thoughts," he explained, booping her impertinent little nose playfully. She swatted him away. 

"My hands are not wayward! They just…they just like to play." Her lip turned outward in an exaggeration of a pout. "This is oppression and you are a tyrant," she declared insolently. There. That’ll make him rethink such an absurd, impossible, agonizing restriction.

"I think it’s more than just a little play, pumpkin," he patiently disagreed. "Those hands get up to all sorts of naughty things when they’re allowed to touch your princess parts. It’s better this way."

She stomped her foot indignantly. “Better for you maybe! Not better for me. You big, sadistic meanie.” 

He grinned. “I am a sadist, and I am a meanie,” he said cheerily. “But I think you like it. I also think, in spite of this little fit you’re throwing, you are secretly pleased I care enough to take away your cummies and forbid you from touching without supervision. After all, you’re just a very little girl and playing with princess parts is a big girl privilege.”

Outrage etched itself into every feature of her face. “I am not ‘secretly’ pleased. I thought I was being very unsecretly, vocally pissed! I am very upset!” She punctuated her last words on a few flustered stomps. “And I am a big girl, you oaf!”

Amused, he pulled her into his lap. “See, pumpkin? I think maybe you’ve started to take your cummies for granted. Maybe you cum just a little too often; maybe you depend on this just a little much, hmm? Maybe I’ve allowed you to get a little too entitled. Maybe,” his voice dropped to a whisper, “such privileges have turned you into an insufferable little brat.”

"No, no, no, and no," she said immediately, trying to squirm out of his grip, but panic was beginning to set in as she slowly started to accept he might be really very serious about this. "No," she whined again, but she sounded a little more resigned.

"Yes, pumpkin. Because I say so. Because you are not entitled to such privileges, and you need to relearn that lesson. Besides,” he pressed his fingers between her squirmy legs, “I think you’re going to enjoy this, even if you don’t want to.” He showed her his fingers, slippery with the truth of his words.

Whimpering, she tucked her face into his neck. The direction of her squirming shifted as she stopped trying to get away and started pining for something else. “I just want it so bad,” she whispered desperately.

"Aww. Poor little girl. You’re just too little to have cummies without supervision. But you could always try to ask very, very sweetly, and maybe I’ll give you permission…” She wasn’t sure if he meant to encourage her or make her suffer, but his fingers returned to the place between her legs.

Alas, when she finally felt brave, and desperate enough, to ask, he just pulled his hand away and said, “No, I think it’s too soon. Much, much too soon.”

"Little girls just have such wayward hands and such devious little thoughts," he explained, booping her impertinent little nose playfully. She swatted him away.

"My hands are not wayward! They just…they just like to play." Her lip turned outward in an exaggeration of a pout. "This is oppression and you are a tyrant," she declared insolently. There. That’ll make him rethink such an absurd, impossible, agonizing restriction.

"I think it’s more than just a little play, pumpkin," he patiently disagreed. "Those hands get up to all sorts of naughty things when they’re allowed to touch your princess parts. It’s better this way."

She stomped her foot indignantly. “Better for you maybe! Not better for me. You big, sadistic meanie.”

He grinned. “I am a sadist, and I am a meanie,” he said cheerily. “But I think you like it. I also think, in spite of this little fit you’re throwing, you are secretly pleased I care enough to take away your cummies and forbid you from touching without supervision. After all, you’re just a very little girl and playing with princess parts is a big girl privilege.”

Outrage etched itself into every feature of her face. “I am not ‘secretly’ pleased. I thought I was being very unsecretly, vocally pissed! I am very upset!” She punctuated her last words on a few flustered stomps. “And I am a big girl, you oaf!”

Amused, he pulled her into his lap. “See, pumpkin? I think maybe you’ve started to take your cummies for granted. Maybe you cum just a little too often; maybe you depend on this just a little much, hmm? Maybe I’ve allowed you to get a little too entitled. Maybe,” his voice dropped to a whisper, “such privileges have turned you into an insufferable little brat.”

"No, no, no, and no," she said immediately, trying to squirm out of his grip, but panic was beginning to set in as she slowly started to accept he might be really very serious about this. "No," she whined again, but she sounded a little more resigned.

"Yes, pumpkin. Because I say so. Because you are not entitled to such privileges, and you need to relearn that lesson. Besides,” he pressed his fingers between her squirmy legs, “I think you’re going to enjoy this, even if you don’t want to.” He showed her his fingers, slippery with the truth of his words.

Whimpering, she tucked her face into his neck. The direction of her squirming shifted as she stopped trying to get away and started pining for something else. “I just want it so bad,” she whispered desperately.

"Aww. Poor little girl. You’re just too little to have cummies without supervision. But you could always try to ask very, very sweetly, and maybe I’ll give you permission…” She wasn’t sure if he meant to encourage her or make her suffer, but his fingers returned to the place between her legs.

Alas, when she finally felt brave, and desperate enough, to ask, he just pulled his hand away and said, “No, I think it’s too soon. Much, much too soon.”

(Source: chaaraao, via allyourlovingandlonging)

09 4 / 2014

sirsslut7:

Forty days to go. I’m finally on par with the fools who gave up orgasms for Lent. Except they only have 20 days left now, and I still have 40. Plus, I’ve already been at this for nine days. I must be the Court Jester of Denial Fools.

How did I get myself into this mess?

Let’s see, it all started…

*picks jaw up off the floor*

I’m struggling to identify what I love most about this, because I have so much foolish love for the things contained in this post. How much do I love this? Let me count some ways.

  • She writes incredibly well.

  • She prevaricates so prettily and it made my heart bleed in companionable sympathy.

  • She is her own worst enemy, and she knows it, and still she lets her body betray her (or is it that she’s betraying her own body with no orgasms? or are they both betraying each other?). (Also, again with that companionable sympathy. My pussy is also sometimes, and not often enough*, a fool.)

  • He makes her ask for it. That devilish meanie.

  • He is a meanie. And he does it so well.

God, I don’t know. I could go on. But wow, I just love this.

*Is it foolish to admit that? Brain says yes.