“Ahww sorry sweetie, you know babies can’t have grown up drinks like coffee.”
I eyed him as I sipped the coffee casually, in a way that reminded him of just how different our relationship was now; I was an adult, his mommy, and he was a baby, my baby.
Despite my gentle chiding, he still reached for the coffee in my hands, or he at least tried to reach for it anyway; the restraints on the bars of his crib wouldn’t let his naughty little hands get quite that far.
He stuck his thumb in his mouth in an adorably pathetic display of submission. “P-pwetty pwease mommy?” He mewed in desperation.
It was adorable that he thought he could somehow earn adult privileges by acting babyish to appease me. Granted, I had been positively reinforcing more age-appropriate behavior by saying ‘good boy!’ Or letting him make baby squirties in his little diapers for god knows how long, but he was so silly for thinking that acting like the little baby he was would somehow encourage me to give him more grown up privileges.
I knew it wasn’t the coffee he wanted; he didn’t even like coffee when he was my adult husband instead of my little hubby. No, what he really wanted was all the adult privileges the coffee represented. All the adult privileges I had confiscated over time.
“You’re so silly for wanting Mommy’s grown up drink,” I teased, “you already had two of your babas, so I know you’re not thirsty, little one. And it looks like those babas ended right up in your diapie. Now, tell me baby, is someone who still potties in their diapie mature enough for coffee?”
I saw his eyebrows furrow in subtle frustration, but he knew what he had to say to avoid being bratty and earning punishment: “N-no Mommy.”
“That’s right darling! Such a smart baby I have!”
Despite all my gentle yet firm reinforcement, he still halfheartedly thrashed around in his crib, making his frustration known. Maybe he needed a little bit more encouragement from mommy.
“You know, being my little darling isn’t all bad…”
The implication of what I had said got him to stop his showy little tantrum and redirect his attention to me.
“Sure, you don’t get to drink grown-up drinks like coffee, watch any non-age-appropriate media, and you have to be put down for bed early every night. Sure you don’t get to see Mommy naked or play with Mommy’s private parts anymore.”
I looked down to see my boy blushing at the reminder of his circumstances, yet he was hanging on my every word. I could tell he was waiting for a ‘but’.
“But you also have some pretty great stuff in your life too! You didn’t even have to get out of your crib to use the potty last night, isn’t that convenient! And look at your awesome nursery; you have so many plushie friends and toys to play with, and you have a comfy crib to sleep in and a pretty mobile to lull you to sleep. Not to mention that —if you’re really good and well behaved— sometimes mommy and daddy let you watch their adult playtime.”
I continued smiling down at the big baby in the crib, “See? Mommy and Daddy spoil you, isn’t that great!”
“I-I guess,” I could see my baby boy blush. He didn’t want to admit how much he loved his new role, but the bulge in his diaper gave him away. He really was so adorable like this.
“Trust me baby,” I relished his moans as I squished his sodden diaper into his eager member, “You’re exactly where you belong.”
Credit to @allezkook for the image.
As always, all characters depicted are 18+
