Sapphic Little

Available now! Lots of colors to choose from! You know you need it you little perv… 😏

When pacifier training your little girl,

it’s important to start small. Offer it to her at the slightest sign of discomfort or inconvenience. She may refuse at first, finding it too silly, but consistency is key. Once she begins to accept it, be sure to shower her in praise and affection as positive reinforcement for this type of behavior. There are days she may regress in her training and claim she doesn’t need it. Use these moments as learning opportunities for her by strapping her pacifier in her mouth for as long as is deemed necessary to help settle her down. As the dependency takes deeper root, keep her pacifier clipped to her top, so it’s never too far from her fussy, little reach. Soon she’ll be lost without the comfort she takes in nursing on her pacifier.

Encourage her to make her suckling obvious. The puffy cheeks and loud, greedy, wet smacks emitting from behind her pacifier shield provide her caregiver with the much needed proof that not only does baby have her pacifier securely in place where it belongs, but also that she is adequately acquiescing to her new accessory even when she’s out of sight. Sure, she’s guaranteed to have a chin that’s permanently drenched and dripping with drool, but that just means it’s time to add another accessory to her repertoire - her ✨bib✨

Oh, sweetheart… come here, baby. Daddy’s had such a long day, and all I’ve been thinking about is wrapping you up in my arms and making you feel so safe and cherished.

Tell me, little one… have you been good for Daddy today? Or do you need me to spoil you a little extra because you’ve been feeling needy?

* pulls you gently into my lap, stroking your hair *

“my pretty baby, so beautiful for me,” while her hand goes down to circle my clit only heightening my pleasure and making me want to cry more. but she just kisses your face to wipe away the tears and thrust deeper into you. “shh bunny, mommy’s got you. it feels good, hm? my gorgeous girl.”

“m..mommy—s’good,” is all i can say since my mind is fuzzy with just her and the feeling of her stretching me out everytime she sinks into me.

“I want you to take a deep breath, baby” Daddy said as he trailed soft fingers along my spine. He was sitting in his bed with me over his lap, my ass over a folded pillow.

“We need to keep training you to take Daddy’s cock in every hole without whining about it.” His fingers traces my ass suggestively, getting closer and closer to my core. “Do you think you can be a good girl for Daddy and let Daddy train your asshole?”

I blushed and whispered “yes Daddy”.

“Louder babygirl, I can’t hear you.” His fingers were now circling my hole, teasing. He used one hand to spread my cheeks while making circles with the sharp tip of his nail.

“Yes Daddy, you can train my asshole to take your Daddy cock.” I said a little louder.

“Good girl.” I left a soft moan out while he spread my cheeks a little further. I could feel my cunny dripping on the pillow underneath me. “So wet and ready to be taken in the ass baby. It’s making me so hard.”

His fingers stopped their work and he leaned into his night stand, lighting up a joint. He took a big puff of it and pulled my hair up, extending my neck to blow the smoke on my mouth. “That’s my good girl” he said while forcing the joint on my mouth and holding my neck while I inhaled. I could have breathed through my nose, but getting high with Daddy was always so fun. After a few puffs I could feel my head a little foggy. I tried pulling away when he forced the joint on my mouth one more time.

When I didn’t inhaled, the hand that still held my neck up moved to cup my chin and hold my nose closed. I started deep into his eyes while I took another hit.

“Suck on it baby”. He whispered and I did just that while he watched, his pupils growing large. I started coughing when the smoke filled my lungs and he finally put the joint out.

Daddy was fully clothed with his work clothes while I was naked and completely at his mercy. It made me feel so small, but pampered when he gave me this much attention.

He lay me down on his legs one more time and continued his caress on my back, my butt cheeks and the soft skin of my tights. His warm fingers were all I could think of through my foggy brain and I let out a louder moan.

One of his hands moved one more time to the edges of my hole while putting his other palm out in front of me. “Spit.”

I did my best with my dry mouth. He laughed of my poor attempted and did it himself instead.

“I want you relaxed baby. Pay attention to only my voice and my fingers on your back. You don’t know where they are going next, do you? You had such a long stressful grown up day. Now it’s time for you to relax and let Daddy take care of you.” He kept talking, while inserting his first digit in my ass. I tensed up out of instinct. “No tensing up babygirl. Good girls let their daddies play with them. In fact, we are going to practice listening today.”

I loved listening to Daddy’s commands.

“Relax your asshole babygirl” his voice was soft but demanding, in that beautifully stern tone of his. I did my best to relax but the tension building inside of me was too much.

“Shh shh shh baby, relax for Daddy.” His other hand started petting my hair, slowly and lovingly. He kept hushing me and slowly I felt the tension leaving my body, even if my desire was growing stronger.

“That’s such a good girl, relaxing her ass on Daddy’s finger. I can feel how nice and loose you are baby.”

I groaned as his finger went in a little deeper. I did all I could to not lose more of my dignity and hump the pillow under me, my cunny ached with neglect, needing to be touched. But Daddy liked keeping me horny for him.

“Now let’s tense up that asshole baby. Good girl, I’m going to count to 5 and I want you to release. Ready? One…two…three…four…”

He stopped his counting and I heard the sound of a vibrator being turned on.

“Five” he said, touching the vibrator on my swollen clit for a split of a second.

I moaned loudly and lost all sense of control, humping the pillow under me, craving any friction.

“Tsk tsk that’s a bad baby. Relax babygirl we are just getting started. Can you relax your asshole for Daddy?” He wiggled the finger inside of me, teasing me further. “There you go, unclenched your hole for me.”

It took all of my self control to relax my entire body and let the tension wear off. I wanted to make him proud more than anything.

“There is my good girl. So loose to take Daddy’s cock. Now let’s clench for five again. Ready? One… two… three…”

He stopped again and touch the vibrating egg on my clit. My body shook with want, his words alone getting me close to an orgasm.

“Four and five. Relax babygirl.” This time it was easier to relax, my edged clit tweaking slightly. “Look how wet you are babygirl, you got your egg so wet already.” He showed me the vibrator glistening.

“One more time baby. Unclench. Is this the most you can unclench baby? Are you all loose for me?” I humped the pillow again, but that wasn’t enough, I groaned in frustration one more time and I could hear the smile on his words.

“Ok last time babygirl. If you can tense for 10, I’ll let you come for your daddy. Ready? Ok squeeze my finger as hard as you can baby. Harder. One… two… three… four… five.”

I stopped hearing him count as he touched the egg on my clit and started moving it in small circles, along with his finger inside my still clenched hole. He was all I could feel, hear, smell, see and think.

“Eight. Nine. And ten. Come for Daddy babygirl. Make cummies for me, all over my lap baby.”

And I did just that, my whole body tensing and spasming as I finally found release. My face felt a little tingly and I had a head rush from the intensity of my first orgasm in months.

He picked me up and hugged me, my head over his shoulder as he scratched my back softly.

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Your each everyone movement and complaint is outlined audibly by your bulky nighttime padding. Your caregiver doesn’t even need the baby monitor, they can hear your discomfort from a few doors down.

They sleepily undo the nursery door lock, and walk over to the crib, unlatching the side wall and plucking you into their arms and over their shoulder like you weigh less than nothing.

Tears form at the corners of your eyes in both pain and embarrassment as your stomach begs for relief. Your caregiver rubbing your backside softly, cooing in a sing-song voice:

“There, there. Such a grumpy baby tonight, hm? Just let go for me, hun. Your trusty Huggies will keep it all under control.”

They kiss the side of your forehead and it’s like the spell has been lifted. Your body goes limp on demand, and you burrow your face into your caregiver’s neck as you slowly and softly push, your padded backside bulging slightly above the arm supporting it.

The diaper shifts and sags under its new weight, and the nursery begins to smell a tad more authentic. In your dozy, baby-brained state, you hardly even realize what just transpired.

Your eyes snap closed and you drift off almost immediately, too sleepy to complete anything more than your most basic bodily functions.

Your caregiver grins, happy with how thoroughly they’ve broken you into the perfect little infant. They lay you down gently on the changing table, carefully so as to not disturb your sleep.

"Whats the matter sweetie?"

Her pacifier fell around her neck, hanging from it's clip.

Her mouth formed an open O as she let out a gentle grunt.

"uhf"

She continued to stare at daddy not breaking eye contact.

He loved to see her face when she was using her diapers, especially when she was messing herself. There was something incredibly vulnerable about it.

Normally she would be mortified but she trusted daddy, besides, she loved showing off her stinky diapers.

Her hand balled up into a fist and she finally closed her eyes and pushed. The back if her diaper filled immediately. Daddy heard the slosh of the mush behind her.

She victoriously smiled.

"Are a stinky girl today?"

He asked playfully.

"... maybe"

She shifted her eyes around, ending up at a corner of the room.

"Tell daddy what you did, with your words."

He commanded.

"I pooped in my pants"

She sheepishly replied.

"No, not your pants good girl."

"My diaper, im daddys stinky diaper girl!"

She exclaimed with glee.

"Good, good girl! For a second I thought you were miss twenty six year old big girl but that can't be the diaper girl in front of me who just made pushies!"

He pulled her onto his lap. She took a seat, smushing the mess completely. Almost automatically, she pushed her diapered into his crotch and wiggled back and forth. Slowly shaking her hips on daddy's lap, she spead the mess around her diaper.

"Now don't think grinding on daddy will get you out of that diaper! You need to get used to a full diaper, until you don't even know the difference." He instructed.

"Yes daddy, I wanna stay in my messy diapers!" She complied as she continued to shake her self on daddy's lap. She turned around and straddled daddy, facing towards him.

Daddy forced her pacifier back into her mouth. Her eyes innocently floated up to meet his. She sucked hypnoticly, staring at daddy and bouncing up in down.

"Your being such a good girl sweetie, now keep you pacifier in and keep playing on daddy."

You pop your pacifier in, climb under the fluffy blankets with your plushie, and let out a happy sigh. All adult worries melt away as you regress, feeling small, safe, and cared for. Imaginary Mommy tucks you in, whispering, “Who’s my good little baby? Sleep tight—tomorrow is all playtime and cuddles.”

A Walk in the Park

You’re whimpering before she even tightens the first strap.

They’re soft, helpless little sounds, barely louder than a breath, the kind your throat makes when you’re trying so hard not to cry in front of someone. Your wife, Ellie, gives a knowing smirk, the corner of her mouth turning upward.

“Oh, honey,” she coos, brushing a stray lock from your forehead with feather-light fingers. “We haven’t even left the driveway yet and you’re already pouting??”

You open your mouth to protest, to plead, to put up at least some small fight, but Ellie doesn’t give you the chance. She simply lifts the big, adult-sized pacifier with its thick silicone bulb and presses it firmly to your lips. A final, tiny whimper escapes as she slides it in with one smooth, practiced motion. The bulb fills your mouth completely, and almost immediately you begin to suckle on reflex, cheeks burning hotter.

“There we go!!” she sing-songs, pinching your cheek lightly in that patronizing way that makes you squirm. “Already so much quieter. My helpless little lovebug!”

She gives the shield a little pat, as if sealing it in place, then turns her attention back to the harness. Her hands move efficiently. Clicking, pulling, tightening. Securing each strap across your chest, waist, and thighs until you’re locked snugly into the oversized stroller. She pushes the canopy back so that the sunlight glares in, the raised seat and padded restraints making everything about you obvious to anyone who glances over.

Adult strollers like yours aren’t unusual in Submissive City. Over the past year the place has quietly transformed: absolutely no children or minors allowed, only grown men learning (or being taught) to embrace their submissive roles. But knowing that doesn’t make it any easier when it’s you sitting here with a tray of colorful rattles dangling “just in case your hands need something to do.” Ellie insisted it was soothing. You insisted it was humiliating. She won the argument, as she always does these days.

“Hold still for Mama,” she says, gathering your hair with gentle fingers. She tugs it into two high, bouncy pigtails, reties the wide satin bows with precise loops, then steps back to inspect her handiwork.

“Perfect!” she gushes, clasping her hands together. “You look absolutely adorable, baby! Mama’s little princess, ready for her big outing!”

The outfit she chose this morning leaves no room for doubt about your role today. You’re wrapped in a frilly baby-pink tutu romper: short, puffed sleeves trimmed with delicate white lace that tickles your neck and upper arms, and a bodice that cinches just enough to emphasize the dramatic flare of the built-in tulle tutu skirt. The skirt is layers upon layers of soft, scratchy netting that poofs out ridiculously, barely covering the bulging, crinkly diaper beneath. Every shift in the seat makes the lace itch and the tulle rustle, a constant reminder of how exposed and sissy you are. White ruffled ankle socks and shiny pink mary janes complete the look, the little straps buckled tight with tiny heart-shaped locks.

You whimper behind the pacifier, squirming as much as the thick five-point harness of the stroller allows. 

Ellie laughs softly. “Awww! Yes, yes, I know you’re having big feelings about our little trip today, but you earned this stroller ride today, didn’t joo??” She pinches your pink cheeks again, “No more doing laps around the living room on your hands and knees like a silly little pony. Today you get fresh air, sunshine, and lots of admiring looks at my sweet widdle girl!!”

She gives the tutu a playful little fluff, making it bounce and crinkle against your diaper, then walks around to the ‘driver’s seat’ of the stroller. She releases the brake with an ominous click and grips the handle, engaging the little electric motor that allows her to slowly yet simply push you forward with ease. As you venture forward out of the garage and down the driveway, the bright world opens up ahead, sunlight glinting off of parked cars, birds chirping, the faint murmur of voices drifting from the street. The moment the wheels meet the sidewalk, your stomach knots tighter, anxiety twisting with every gentle roll.

The path stretches out, busier than you’d hoped. There’s people ahead. People you know. Past friends, neighbors, that one woman from the gym who always smiled at you back when things were different. Your breath comes shallow now, ragged. You tug at the harness straps, but they hold firm. The pacifier bobs frantically in your mouth as you suck on it for comfort, even though it only heightens the humiliation.

“Hush now, angel,” Ellie murmurs from behind, her voice a soothing melody with just a hint of teasing. “You’re fine. Just breathe for Mama. Remember, you’re not the only one in padding today. Look around…see?”

She’s right, of course. You can see the shadow of her arm stretch over the sidewalk as she points toward a man being pushed in a stroller just like yours across the street. His romper is even frillier, layers of lavender ruffles and lace cascading everywhere, pacifier bobbing rhythmically as he happily waves a jingling rattle at passersby. “He’s been in diapers longer than you, sweetheart…and look how content he is! Doesn’t he make the prettiest little girl?”

Your cheeks burn hotter, doubting you’ll ever find as much enjoyment as that weirdo.

One house over, right in the front yard, another man waves cheerfully from inside a large portable playpen set right on the neatly manicured lawn. He’s dressed in shortalls that do nothing to hide the thick padding bulging underneath, his legs kicking playfully as he clutches a stuffed bunny. His partner kneels nearby, weeding flower beds with relaxed focus, occasionally glancing over to check on him with an indulgent smile.

Further along, on the next corner, a woman stands chatting with a friend while her husband remains in timeout with his nose pressed against a sturdy oak tree. His shorts and diaper are pulled down to mid-thigh, the open, sagging padding clenched awkwardly between his knees, bright red bottom on full display for the entire street to see. The woman pauses her conversation to call out, “Twenty more minutes, loser!  Let everyone see what happens to naughty boys!”

In Submissive City, scenes like these are simply part of the scenery.

But still… it’s you in the stroller now. You in the frilly tutu and pigtails. You trying desperately not to cry behind your pacifier as the world rolls by. Just because others are undergoing the same treatment doesn’t make it any less embarrassing for you.

You don’t notice Ellie slowing until you hear the soft scrape of paws on pavement. Then a low, subdued whine.

A woman approaches, leading her dog on a short, taut leash. Except it’s not a dog, it’s a full-grown man. He’s on all fours, dressed in full gear: a leather mask with floppy ears that hang limply, thick mitts encasing his hands, knee pads for crawling, and modified shorts that reveal a thick, crinkly diaper printed with paw prints. A rubber tail attached to a harness on the back of the diaper sways behind him

The owner is firm, her posture straight and commanding, like a trainer with a misbehaving dog. She tugs the leash sharply when he lags behind. “Heel!” she snaps, her voice crisp and no-nonsense.

The ‘pup’ scurries to catch up, whining softly.

Ellie stops the stroller with a smile. “Oh, what a cute little doggy you have there!” she says warmly to the woman.

The trainer nods curtly. “He’s learning. Slowly.” She turns to her puppy, who’s now sniffing cautiously at your stroller wheels. “Greet properly.”

The puppy looks up at you with eyes wide behind the mask, then lets out a tentative yip.

Ellie chuckles, patting him on the head. “Aww, isn’t he sweet?? Did you already go potty today, boy?”

The trainer crosses her arms. “Not yet, but he will. Right here.” She points to a patch of grass beside the sidewalk. “Go on. Lift your leg.”

The puppy hesitates, whining again, but a sharp tug on the leash makes him comply. He crawls to the grass, lifts one leg high against a small tree, and you hear the hiss as his diaper floods, the front darkening visibly with a spreading stain. Passersby glance over but keep walking. It’s just another day.

“Good,” the trainer says flatly. “Now drop your dump. Make it quick.”

The puppy’s tail droops as he scrunches down low, face flushing red behind the mask. A soft grunt escapes, and the seat of his diaper balloons outward with an audible squish, the smell wafting faintly in the breeze.

The trainer nods approvingly. “There. Now wag for them. Show how happy you are to be a good pup.”

The puppy hesitates, ears drooping, but a sharp tug on the leash makes him obey. He shakes his hips, slow and reluctant at first, then faster. The rubber tail swishes side to side, the harness keeping it secure over his thick, sagging diaper. Every shake squishes the heavy, messy load inside, the seat bulging more and swaying like a hefty, droopy, poopy pendulum.

Ellie claps lightly, genuinely amused. “Such a well-trained boy!”

The trainer gives a short nod. “He has his moments.”

She pulls a plain, bone-shaped dog treat from her pocket and holds it to his muzzle.

He opens his mouth obediently and crunches it slowly. He doesn’t seem to enjoy it, chewing unenthusiastically. The bland, gritty taste is clearly unpleasant, but he swallows anyway. Better than the kibble he probably gets at home.

She scratches behind one floppy ear once, then clips the leash back to his harness.

“Heel.”

They move on. The puppy crawls away with a pronounced, messy waddle. The swollen diaper forcing his knees wider, tail swaying limply behind him.

Ellie pushes forward again, her voice teasing. “See, baby? Even puppies use their diapers out here! You’re in good company.”

A few blocks later, the real embarrassment hits.

“Oh. My. God. You guys! Look!!” 

Three gorgeous girls in their twenties, faces a mixture of awe and glee, start heading his way.

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I love wearing my tena in public and getting it very wet, daddy can you check if I'm dry?? 💦

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