paddedlittleparadise: “But, but it’s too early for bedtime!” I protested peevishly. “I wanna stay up
paddedlittleparadise: “But, but it’s too early for bedtime!” I protested peevishly. “I wanna stay up late! I’m not tir- Mmmpphh!” Mommy had shushed me with my pacifier - the big purple one that filled my mouth better than any gag. “Hush now, little one,” she ordered, marching me before her down the hall toward my newly redecorated bedroom. More like nursery, I mused sourly, mutely eyeing the pink teddy bears, unicorns, and clouds that festooned the walls and even dangled, in mobile form, over the large crib that was now my one and only bed. Sure, I’d loved the life of a Little, and I still did. But Mommy, having tasted the intoxicating pleasure of having her very own Little, was convinced that there was nothing we both needed more than a deeper plunge into regression. And that meant lots of things…including, apparently, early bedtimes. “You’ve been fussy all day,” she reprimanded me, easily slipping off my overalls and then my colorful flowered t-shirt. “I know it’s only six o’clock, baby, but you’ve been far too cranky to get to stay up any later. Besides,” she added, pushing my diaper-clad form firmly onto the rug that served as my changing mat, “Growing babies need at least fourteen hours of sleep every day. And you didn’t sleep well during your nap, now, did you?” I would have protested, but it was a little tough thanks to the muffling pacifier in my mouth. And really, I mused as shivered under the cold touch of the wipes against my nether regions, it wouldn’t have made much of a difference anyway. I was the Little, and Mommy was in charge. Of everything. I watched in growing apprehension as she prepared my nighttime diapers: first my usual white MegaMax with an Abri-Let booster, but then came the Wartenburg wheel. “Can’t have my Little baby leaking through a long night,” she smiled cheerfully as the sharp teeth bit cleanly through the plastic shell. On it went after a massive dose of powder and lotion - and then came round two: a large PeekABU with its own booster. Crikey, that was going to be thick! But even then, after that thigh-spreading bulk had been wrapped around me, Mommy wasn’t done. “This is gonna make absolutely sure my sweet little honey bunch stays dry,” she cooed, slipping two layers of nighttime-weight cloth diapers beneath me and proceeding to pin them on - finishing it all off by working the entire mass into the locking confines of my new, baby pink plastic pants. God, how was I even going to walk? Silly me. I wasn’t supposed to. Keep reading -- source link