TinkerbellInPullys

Squirming subconsciously on my lap, you chew your lip in intense concentration.

I have to stifle a chuckle.

You're not pausing because you can't read the four-syllable-long word on the page.

That would be silly.

You're a respected professional. You have a college degree. There's not a word in the whole Babysitter's Club series you can't read.

You're pausing because you don't know if this a word you shouldn't know how to read.

After months of "reading lessons," you still haven't deciphered my rules for which words you are and aren't allowed to know.

It's probably because there aren't any.

You dare a warning glance back at me, trying to see if you can gather more information from my face than the page in front of you.

I shake my head.

"What's wrong, sweetie? Need help sounding this one out?"

You let out a little sigh of relief, nodding your head in affirmation, clearly believing you've avoided punishment for being too much of a 'smarty pants.'

A flutter of joy forms in my chest. "Teaching" you how to read has been one of my favorite parts of the day.

"Innnnn-deeeee-penn-dennt," I read slowly, carefully annunciating each sound, "Just like you used to be before you met me! Remember?"

You blush, throwing your head back into my chest as I take the opportunity to kiss the side of your head.

"That one wasn't even that hard. You could read it just last week, remember?"

You look back at me in fear as I continue.

"Maybe these books are a little bit too hard for you," I declare.

Panic fills your face as you realize you've escaped a spanking, but may have subjected yourself to an even worse fate.

"But, I..." You stammer out before I cut you off.

"No, 'buts'! I won't have you straining that poor little brain with books that are so clearly far above your reading level!"

You whimper as I set the book to the side and help you off my lap.

"I'm pretty sure we have some of those Magic Treehouse books in your room, why don't you go pick one out?"

You look from me to the book you were just reading, sitting on the side table. I can see it on your face. You know you'll never read anything that mature again.

"What are you waiting for?" I say, interrupting your train of thought, "Are you afraid those books will be too hard, too? I'm sure we have some Dr. Suess around here if..."

I don't even finish my sentence before you dart off, desperate to not fall any farther this afternoon.

Your little tantrum is cut off as I shove the large, rubber nipple of the pacifier you despise between your open lips.

I shake my head as you glare at me, reaching up to pluck the infantile device back out of your mouth.

But, I don't give you the chance to act that disobedently.

In a flash, I've lifted you from your seat on the ground.

You're laying across my lap, face pointed at the floor, ass pointed in the air.

In shock from the speed of my movements, all you can do is make a few futile kicks before my fingers are in your hair, pulling your head up so your ear is right next to my lips.

My voice is a whisper. Control drips from every syllable, providing a sharp contrast to your little emotional tirade just moments before.

"Do you think I give a fuck that you graduated law school?"

You whimper.

"Do you think I care you, 'passed the bar'?"

You can practically feel the derision in my tone.

"Do you think anyone cares that you won a couple of silly 'jury trials'?"

You feel my hand press into the back of your diaper, massaging the used padding into your firm ass.

"You couldn't convince a jury you passed potty training now, let alone that someone committed a crime."

Without preamble, I release your hair, causing your head to fall without the extra support.

"All that matters now is that you're mine. Mine for the rest of your life."

Goosebumps form on your skin as cool air kisses your suddenly bare backside.

*Post is a genuinely good post or piece of smut.

*Checks original poster to see if it's safe to reblog.

*Original poster is a minor account.

*Sighs and reports the account, messages the moot so they know to delete it and contact who they reblogged from.

Great. Now me and my partner can't enjoy this post AND I have to do work now. Gotta report and warn people. Should you find yourself in a situation like this, remember that it's a BRDN:

Block the underage blog.

Report the underage blog if it's a nsfw blog.

Delete any post from it.

Notify any mutual who posted from it.

Block, Report, Delete, Notify. In whichever order, this isn't necessarily in sequential order, this is just in an order I can remember: B.R.D.N. Don't be a BRDN.

If you're a minor stay off nsfw tumblr. Not only is it dangerous, it has consequences for others around you, and it BRDN's those of us trying to run nsfw blogs as ethically and safely as we can.