a space for smaller things

Just DO it! It's all about control

If you’re regressing me, don’t check; do.

Don’t ask me about my diaper, check it.

Don’t ask if I want my paci; force it in my mouth.

Don’t ask if I want a diaper change; force me to a flat surface and change me.

If I’m trusting you to regress me, just do it! Don't beat around the bush. I really don’t wanna be the big girl that needs to be checked with. I am trusting you and you have my consent to full on regress me!

Do you think my neighbors know I like wearing wet diapies

I-I can't go to the sleepover like this! What is my Mom thinking?! I look like I'm 5 fucking years old! All the other guys are gonna laugh and make fun of me...

Stamina.

We should be making cutesy little cummies in our pampers if a CG so much as looks too hard at us, constantly whining and squirming as we have three different kinds of accidents in the thick, crinkly diaps we're addicted to, not trying to please our partners with our useless little girl-cocks.

I mean, seriously, why would we need to last a long time? For sex? Don't make me laugh, pants-packing transfems don't get to have sex like that, penetration is for grown-ups, and potty training failures clearly aren't grown-up (and never will be)

And sure, denial is a classic, well known for its effectiveness in reducing the notoriously weak-willed, chronically masturbating padded tgirl into desperate, pliable submission, but I'd submit to you that turning your beloved little stinker into a premature ejaculator is an even better method of control!

Firstly, what's more babyish than being completely unable to control a basic bodily function adults take for granted?

And second, can you imagine the thrill of reducing your sub to cringing, incoherent mess, begging you for a change, just by flashing some skin or groping them? By breaking their brains and teensy little cocks, you're making them deeply and irreversibly dependent. A quickshot little diaperslut will only ever attract dominants, so there's no escaping their submission, ever, and they'll be sure to stick close to you at all times, frantic for changies and protection from the big, scary, sexy adults that can reduce them to a snivelling, spasming, sticky little toddler with the barest hint of cleavage or a muscled arm.

Instinctively, you suck and the drug flows into your system, working its way to your brain in mere seconds.

What were you doing? Everything seems like so much now. So big. It's so hard to think when you feel so very small, so very little.

The frustration you held onto moments ago drifts away into nothing. The woman's face softens and you giggle. She seems nice!

"Easier to handle now!~" she coos.

You're not sure what she means, but the happy intonation in her voice is infectious to you.

Your giggles continue as she scoops you up. Your addled mind sees no reason to feel unsafe. She's so smiley and happy, and she's whispering lots of nice things about how good you're going to be.

Mona's too enthralled in her game that she'd rather just sit and play, pushing her already super wet and soggy diaper to it's limit rather than just go ask Mommy for a change.