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You are lying on your stomach on the changing table, completely naked except for the soft, pastel-blue baby bonnet tied snugly under your chin and the pacifier plugged firmly in your mouth. Your legs are kicked up in the air, your bottom high and exposed. Today Daddy has an important task for his little baby.

Daddy walks into the room, his eyes immediately fixating on your bare bottom. "Good boy," he murmurs, his voice low and gentle. "You're looking so perfect for your special treatment. Today I have a very important job for you kiddo, you're going to be the example today. Our little friend is coming over, and you're going to show them how a good baby fills his pampers."

He reaches out and gently strokes your back, his fingers tracing the curve of your spine. You hum into the pacifier, letting him know you're ready for your special preparation.

Daddy moves behind you, his hands sliding under your thighs to lift your legs higher. He picks up the small, foil-wrapped suppository and tears it open, coating it in a slick, cool gel.

"Relax, little one," he murmurs. "Daddy's going to take good care of your bottom. Open big for Daddy, so you can be a good example."

He starts with gentle pats your bottom, his hand warm and firm against your exposed cheeks. Pat, pat, pat. The rhythm is calming, making you melt into the mattress. His thumb traces the line between your cheeks, a slow, teasing path that makes you whimper into your pacifier.

"That's my good baby," he coos.

He presses the cool, slick tip against your tight opening, holding it there, letting you get used to the sensation. Then, slowly, carefully, he starts to push it in. The pressure is intense, a deep, full feeling that makes you gasp. Once the suppository is fully inside you, he keeps his finger pressed against your entrance, his knuckles nestled between your cheeks.

"Shhh," he whispers. "Just stay like that for a little while. Let it dissolve. Let your body get used to it. Daddy's right here with you."

You can feel the suppository starting to melt inside you, a warm, spreading heat. Daddy's finger is a constant, reassuring pressure. He starts to move his finger slightly, a slow, gentle rocking motion that sends waves of pleasure through you.

"That's it, baby," he coos. "Just let go. Let Daddy take care of everything. You're such a good baby for me."

Finally, he slowly pulls his finger out, leaving you feeling empty and aching for more. He gently lowers your legs and reaches for a fresh, thick diaper. He unfolds it with a loud crinkle and slides it beneath your bare bottom, fastening it securely around your hips. He gives your freshly diapered bottom a soft pat. "There we go," he says, "all ready for our guest."

He lifts you off the table and carries you to the living room, setting you down on a large, soft playmat. You can already feel a warmth starting to bloom in your belly, a deep, insistent pressure building low in your guts. The suppository is working.

Just then, the doorbell rings. Daddy smiles. "That must be our little friend, he is new being a baby so I need you to be extra good today little one" he says, going to the door. He opens it to another Daddy, who has an adult baby in his arms, dressed in a thick, crinkling diaper and a onesie.

"Thanks for watching him," the other Daddy says, handing over the diaper bag. "He's still a bit shy about using his diaper properly, so I'm hoping seeing your baby will help him along. You'll be the babysitter for both of them today?"

"Of course," your Daddy replies with a confident smile. "My baby will be the perfect example. He will learn from the best."

The other Daddy leaves, and your Daddy carries the new baby over to the playmat, setting them down beside you. The other baby looks at you with wide, curious eyes from behind his pacifier, but he also looks incredibly nervous, his hands fidgeting with the hem of his onesie.

"Look," your Daddy says to the other baby. "You have a new friend to play with. This is my very good baby. He is going to show you how to be a good boy"

Daddy sits on the couch, watching you both. He turns on the TV, putting on a colorful baby show with singing cartoon animals. He starts handing out small, soft teething toys for you both to play with. The atmosphere is calm and normal, just a casual playdate.

The pressure in your gut is becoming unbearable. You can't hold it anymore. With a soft grunt muffled by your pacifier, you relax. A torrent of warmth floods your diaper, followed by a deep, squelching mess that fills the seat of your padding. You did it. You filled your diaper for Daddy, in front of your new friend, setting the perfect example.

The other baby watches you, his eyes wide with a mix of shock and embarrassment. He crossed his legs tightly, his face turning a deep shade of red. He is clearly trying to hold it in, his body tense with the effort.

Your Daddy notices. He gets up and walks over, kneeling behind the other baby. He starts giving them gentle, rhythmic pats on his thickly padded bottom. "Come on, little one," he coos softly. "Don't be shy. Just like your friend, You can do it too."

The other baby shakes his head, whimpering around his pacifier. He is fighting it, his little body trembling with the effort of holding back. He even try to push his diaper with his hands.

Daddy chuckles, a low, teasing sound. "Oh, we have a fussy baby, don't we? That's okay. Daddy knows just how to help fussy little hands." He reaches into the diaper bag and pulls out a pair of soft, baby mittens. He gently takes the other baby's hands and puts the mittens on, tying them securely. "There we go. You can't hold it in forever, you know. The more you fight it, the more it's going to hurt. Just let go. That's why you are well padded so don't try to take off your pampers or in will tell your daddy you're misbehaving"

He then pulls out his phone, aiming the camera at the other baby. "I think I need to send a picture to your Daddy. Proof that you're learning to use your diaper like a good baby. He'll be so proud."

The threat of being photographed as proof is too much. The other baby's resolve crumbles. With a loud, humiliating whimper, he finally relaxes, and a mess fills his diaper with a soft squelch. He buries his face in his hands, but the mittens make it a clumsy, ineffective gesture. His body shakes with embarrassment.

Your Daddy laughs, a warm, proud sound. "Well, well," he says, lowering his phone after snapping a few pictures. "It seems I have two little stinkers on my hands. Now, it's time for your changes. This is just what babies do, no need to be embarrassed."

He doesn't even bother with the changing table. He just lays out a large, waterproof mat on the living room floor, right in front of the couch. He picks you up first, laying you down on the mat. He untapes your messy diaper, pulling it open and exposing you to the cool air of the room. There is no privacy. The other baby is sitting right there, watching everything, his face still buried in his mitted hands.

Daddy takes his time, wiping you clean with warm, wet wipes. He's thorough, making sure every inch of you is spotless. Once you're clean, Daddy powders you liberally, the scent filling the air, and tapes you into a fresh, thick diaper and plastic pants showing how babyish you're.

Then it's the other baby's turn. Daddy picks them up and lays them down on the mat right beside you. You can see everything: the messy diaper, the careful cleaning, the generous powdering. The other baby keeps his eyes squeezed shut, his face turned away, but there is no escaping the public, thorough cleaning. The mittens make it impossible for them to cover themselves properly.

Once you are both clean and securely diapered, Daddy sits you both up on the playmat. "Now that your tummies are happy, my babies need some food," he announces cheerfully. He carries you both over to two large, wooden high chairs set up in the dining area. He straps you in, the buckle clicking into place with a finality that feels both comforting and inescapable. He then ties a large, plastic bib around your neck, one with cartoon animals on it. You look over and see the other baby being strapped into his own high chair, a matching bib being tied around his neck.

Being a good boy and an example was starting to feel even better, you realize. You were getting extra attention, extra praise, and extra care. It felt good to be Daddy's special baby.

Just then, the doorbell rings again. Your Daddy goes to the door, and it's the other baby's Daddy.

"Oh, I think I arrived just in time for dinner!" the other Daddy says, peering into the dining area. "Thanks for the photos, now I can show my good diaperfiller to everyone" he adds, looking directly at the other baby, who turns an even deeper shade of red, if that's even possible.

"Thanks for taking care of both of them," the other Daddy says to your Daddy.

"No problem," your Daddy replies with a warm smile. "We could take them to play at the park next weekend”.

You looked at each other, knowing He were about to be publicly exposed as Daddy brought the spoon to your mouths, making airplane sounds. Did embarrassment matter now? Just look at you in your big diaper, bib eating in a high chair after your friend and his Daddy are watching, you're a baby now and you're the goodest boy for being an example for your little friend, you better behave or you're gonna end with mittens too.