These Exchanges Between A Bigot Named Brendan Sullivan, And A Heroic Troll Named Robert Graves, Will

Good boys get rewards! sometimes...

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Make Me Little

I don’t want to be a grown-up right now, so I need your help to make little again.

Take off my clothes. My grown-up clothes. I’m so exhausted from being an adult that I need you to do it for me. Please, take everything off slowly. I want to savior every moment of this transformation, for it alone helps ease my distress.

The last piece of grown-up clothing to go will be my panties. I bet they’ll be damp, but from what? It doesn’t matter, because I won’t be needing them anymore. I don’t want them anymore.

For that moment I’ll be naked, and I don’t like to be naked. It has nothing to do with being shy or self-conscious. I’m in my safe place and on my way to being little, so though grown-up feelings no longer exits.   I just need something against my body to cling too and bring me comfort. A security blanket. Except what I want isn’t a blanket. It’s a diaper.

Make me ask for it. Make ask you to change me into diaper. Make me tell you how much I love my diapers. Make me tell you how much I need and want them.

“Please, please change me into diaper. I don’t want to be a big girl anymore.” “I want wear big, thick diapers that make me waddle when I walk.” “I love how my diaper feels on me. Especially when you rub and pat my diaper.” “I’m too little for big girl panties and surely make puddles on the floor without the protection of a diaper.” “When I go potty in my diapers it feel so warm and wonderful. I want diaper to become bloated and I won’t to change it till it sags down to floor.” “I want to be a naughty little girl who needs diapers. Please, please put me in a diaper. Please”

The sound of a crinkling diaper always gives me butterflies. They’re the good kind of butterflies. The butterflies that make my stomach and my whole body tingle. Especially tingling down there.

Please, please pick me up, even if you’re just going to set me down again. When you set me down to put me in a diaper I’ll be good. I won’t kick or fuss, not even when the cold wipes tease my privates.

Tease me. Take your time. Make your movements slow and careful. Stop just to coo and baby-talk me. That will always make me blush and want to hide my face.

Praise me or scold me. It doesn’t matter. Am I a good baby for being so patient during my change? Or… Am I a naughty baby for needing diapers and wanting to wet them? Again, it doesn’t matter. Both will make me squirm and wiggle due to the overwhelming amount of butterflies in me.

Back to the diaper change~

Lotion and powder are a must. They smell so wonderful and further help start to shift into my little-place. They also require rubbing. A delicate gentle touch down there will always make me purr.

I’m ready. I’m so ready.

Once the diaper is on the contract is sealed. A big diaper for a little girl. I’m a little baby now and you’re charge.

My transformation will be complete. The diaper hides any hints of being an adult.

I’ll be Little. I’ll be your Little. Take good care of me, okay?

Snoop Dogg narrating planet earth is what the world needs

Tree Drawings, Tim Knowles

A closer look at British artist Tim Knowles’ series of drawings produced using drawing tools attached to the tips of tree branches; the wind’s effects on the tree, recorded on paper. Like signatures each drawing reveals the different qualities and characteristics of each tree.

Instagram.com/wetheurban

DiaperGal 1083

This little asshole keeps getting into a bird feeder, so we need to test how small is *too* small

3 inch opening: no problem

2.75 inch opening: Easy

2.5 inch opening: doing fine

2.25 inch opening: Bit of a struggle, but as Mr Meeseeks says: CAAAN DOO!

2 inch opening: Alright, lets try chewing the opening a bit, As long as we get the nuts into the mouth (huhuhu) we good I guess…

Uh-oh… Steve is getting greedy

:insert grunts of effort here:

Taking a break…

The guy who made the original video decided after a long struggle to help Steve out.

A New Challenger approaches!

1.75 inchs: Quote Mr Meseeks: “OOOHHH HE’S TRYING”

GIMME GIMME GIMME

He ends up giving up.

Source: Chris Notap - Squirrel ● literally ● bites off more than he can chew ! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sS4ach0CwN4

via imgur

I love that the internet saw people comparing women and other alienated groups of people and went, “they’re dating,” and, “they support each other.” We’re improving as a society.

He climbs into my lap.

“Oof,” I say. “Somebody smells like pee-pee.” He squirms a little. “Who do you think it is? Can you guess?”

No answer.

“I’ll make it real easy for you, okay? Two options. Who do you think smells like they wet themselves? Me? Or you?”

I wrap my arms around him, his back on my chest, and feel him breathing in and out.

“Come on, honey, use your words.”

“Probably me,” he murmurs.

“Uh-huh,” I say, bouncing him a little on my legs. “Because who has a diaper on?”

“Just me,” he says.

I pull back the elastic of his pajama pants and he reacts involuntarily, hands reaching down to stop me from checking his diaper.

“How come you don’t want me to pull your pants down, baby?” I whisper in his ear.

“I—uh—I don’t know,” he says. He isn’t looking at me but I can feel heat coming off his neck and ears. I lean my head on his shoulder and glance at his expression. He looks ready to die of embarrassment.

“It’s just me here, honey. Nobody is going to hear you. Nobody else is going to see your diaper. And have I ever judged anything you’ve done?”

He shakes his head.

“No, that’s right, I haven’t. Put your hands on mine, okay? Like this.” I place his left hand on the back of my left hand and he takes initiative and places his right hand over my right hand. And then we both ease down the elastic waistband of his pajama pants, enough to see a very, very wet diaper peek out.

“Would it feel good if I touched it, honey?” I ask. His left hand slips up to his mouth and he bites his finger. He nods.

“Where? Show me where.” He pulls my right hand down into his pants and I start to rub his diaper, squeezing it. “That’s really heavy, I say. You had to go a lot, huh? Should we change you?”

He shakes his head.

“No change? Why not, baby? Ohh, do you want me to keep petting you?”

“Don’t stop,” he says. Now both of his hands are up by his face. “D-don’t stop.” His breath is getting shaky. He shifts his hips, diaper crinkling. I start to rub him faster and he’s grinding against my hand, and getting it damp from his pee soaking through the material. He’s so cute like this, whining and blushing, and I can’t resist kissing his neck over and over. “Mama, I’m going to—“ He arches his back, squirming like crazy on my lap.

“Aww, did you have another accident in your diaper?” I ask him, pushing him gently down onto the couch and climbing on top of him, one elbow on either side of his body. He nods shakily. I settle on the couch behind him and wrap my arms around him again, pulling him very close to me. “Handsome, smelly baby. Do you want a change now?”

He shakes his head. “Uh-uh. Can I just have five more minutes like this?”

“What, do you like wearing a smelly, sticky, used diaper? Huh, baby?”

“Mmmmm…maybe…”

“And you like me holding you?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Okay, we can stay like this for five minutes. And then you’re getting a change.”