#embarrasment

Yep she’s under one months regression for stealing. Well we only had one bedroom and her niece promised she would look after her stinky auntie at night.

yep she comes and wakes me up if her auntie has done a smelly poo or is crying. We have the baby monitor aswell

we change her in a separate room as not everyone should smell her stinky bum bum or see her stinky bum bum. Only real adults

I know so embarrassing laddies imagine sharing a bedroom with your little niece and you are the biggest baby in the room

there we go honey all clean down there let’s get you dressed and fed then we will walk to school to pick up your babysitter for tonight

Lilly is on her hands and knees in the middle of the thick, knotted cream rug, the soft fibres pressing into her bare palms and the tops of her bare feet. Her baby-blue floral dress has ridden up, the frilled hem fluttering against the backs of her thighs, exposing the thick white padding that crinkles softly with every tiny shift of her weight.

Blonde Barbie dolls lie scattered around her—one still carefully posed in a pink ballgown, the other sprawled on its back with its plastic legs at awkward angles. She is completely absorbed, murmuring little baby voices under her breath, the quiet click-clack of plastic limbs the only sound besides the low murmur of the television.

Behind her, mummy is curled into the corner of the beige sofa, tablet glowing in her hands, the soft blue light reflecting off her face. The living room smells faintly of fabric softener and the warm, slightly musty scent of the carpet. For a few precious minutes the only thing Lilly can feel is the gentle bulk between her legs and the cool air on the backs of her thighs

Her face freezes mid-play. Heat floods her cheeks. She feels the sudden, warm, heavy give of her nappy as it fills, the padding swelling and softening against her skin. The thick plastic rustles loudly in the quiet room. A sharp, unmistakable smell—warm, sour, and deeply personal—begins to rise from between her legs and drift across the rug.

Sarah stood rigid above the tiny pink plastic potty in the centre of the living room, bare feet flat on the hardwood, knees forced wide. Her white T-shirt with the cheerful yellow duck and the words “I love mummy” stretched across her chest like a cruel joke. Both hands were clamped tightly between her thighs.

Emma stood directly behind her, firm hands on Sarah’s shoulders, pinning her in place. At the brunch table three friends stared in open-mouthed silence, plates of food forgotten.

“You slept with Jake,” Emma said quietly. “So now you will sit on the potty like a toddler and go in front of everyone. No more grown-up choices.”

Martha, a fully grown woman of twenty-three, was all ready to leave for her date, feeling grown-up and pretty in her sleek black silky dress. She decided to give her mother and aunties a little twirl so they could admire how sophisticated she looked.

She spun… and the dress flared high.

“No, young lady. No thongs.” Her mother’s voice was sharp and disappointed. “I can’t believe you forgot such an important rule. Only sluts wear thongs. And you are a good little girl.”

Before Martha could protest, four pairs of hands were already on her. The silky dress was yanked up and over her head. The forbidden thong was peeled down her legs while she squirmed and covered her face.

“Look at you, trying to act like a big girl,” one auntie cooed, already holding up a soft pink knitted cardigan covered in baby bottle and bunny buttons. “Maybe if you looked more like a good little girl you’d have more respect for yourself.”

They forced her arms into the cardigan. Underneath went a tiny white crop top printed with ducks and bottles that left her soft belly completely bare. Her jeans were tugged down to mid-thigh and left there, framing the white training panties they had already pulled up. Thick white socks were tugged all the way up her calves.

Martha tried to speak. “M-Mom, please, I have a date— I’m twenty-three—”

The girls had known something was off the moment she arrived for their usual girls’ night. Every time she sat down her dress made that soft, unmistakable crinkle, and when she stood up again the padding was impossible to miss. Jess and Claire exchanged a look. Their friend—the one who’d spent months teasing them about their own secret nappy habit—was finally caught wearing one herself.

They didn’t give her a chance to explain. While she was still frozen in the middle of the living room, they grabbed the hem of her pretty pink dress, yanked it straight up over her head and tied the fabric tightly so her arms were trapped and her face completely covered. The thick white nappy was left fully on display, and bra the only other scrap of clothing still in place. Both women collapsed onto the sofa in fits of laughter, pointing and taking photos while she stood there mortified, shifting from foot to foot as the diaper crinkled loudly with every tiny movement.

My my my girls and boys this is not kindergarten this is college and you are here to learn. I should not have to remind you of that

if you want to act like little bitty children I will treat you like little bitty children. Now let’s get back to the lecture

my word are we still talking. What is your name young lady, well Jessica what did I just say. That’s correct I told you if you act like a baby I will treat you like a baby

Now take this bag you will find a more subtitle outfit to wear and then you will come back in and like a baby I will sit you down and read you a book in front of all your freinds.