Demi Moore Hair Diaper Novels & Stories

Her long black hair was always tied up in a low bun, leaving her ivory face untouched by stray strands. At 5'2, she was petite, but had just enough in the right areas that Dad couldn't keep his hands off. Standing next to Dad's six-foot frame, Mom looked like a dwarf. His flawless tan skin looked great in any color, even though he always wore black or blue. His black hair was always neatly combed, and his bright-green eyes sparkled whenever he saw me.

Mom's footsteps trailed behind. I ran out of the bathroom, tears streaming down my cheeks, to meet them. Dad gave me a kind of amazed look, and Mom came over to comfort me, putting her arms around me and dabbing away the tears. “Oh baby girl what happened to your hair?” In between sobs, I replied,“I woke up to see it like this,” Dad walked towards us, “Babydoll your hair is so beautiful, I know that’s not what you wanna hear,” Mom gave me a tighter hug and said, "Not now, Malcolm, but he is right—your hair looks so regal and it has this distinct smell of jasmine and lavender.”

I whisper, feeling embarrassed by my sudden anxiety. My mom smiled then. "Oh, my sweet boy." She said, shaking her head. Her long black hair was pulled into a messy braid, loose ringlets sticking to her forehead. The baby had the same hair color, unlike Hayes and me with our dark brown. "You could never hurt her, I see the way you already love her. That's what makes you so special."

"Not mine either. Do you mind?" I shook my head, as I slid my diaper bag over in order for her to sit. She was really beautiful when I got a chance to really look at her. Short brown hair that fell in waves over her hat, and smooth ivory skin that complemented her hazel eyes and strong cheek bones. Emily stared at her, wondering who the mysterious woman was. "She's beautiful. What's her name?" "Emily, she's eight months. And thank you." She placed her hands on her purse, which was on her lap.

I replied and disappeared around the corner as I entered the dining room. Far off at the other end of the dining table was mom, seated in all glamour. Her silky black hair was neatly and professionally packed and styled in a ponytail style. Strands of her hair were left dangling carelessly at each side. They looked too professional to be a mistake. These set of strands had been curled and it gave her a perfect hairstyle. The end of her high ponytail was also in curls.

Emily hissed, "Callie, can you get my hair out of the zipper?" "Sure sure." I laughed, walking over to where she was."Thank you!"Emily's brown hair was stuck, this happens almost every time she wearing her suit."I'm gunna chop my hair off." She mumbled, crossing her arms."You should" I laughed, slowly removing her hair from the zipper.Her hair was thick straight brown hair, it was always getting caught in something.

Mom is a strong person, so I need to be the same. The door to the private room creaks open. Mom is propped up in bed watching television, her pale blue eyes focused on the tiny screen protruding from the wall opposite her. She mindlessly braids the ends of her blonde hair before untying the knots and starting again. It’s a habit I’ve seen her do many times when I was a child. After three rounds of chemo, her hair is starting to thin considerably and is falling out in places, but it doesn’t stop her from playing with what hair she does have left. When she loses all of her hair completely, she will have to find something else to fidget with.

Zelda started to spank me making sure to cover the whole of my bum, careful not to hit the same spot twice. "Now are you ready to get dressed for the day?" she asks sounding like an angry parent, I just nod my head, yes, tears going down my face, I don't like pain! I let them dress me in the diaper that was warm and snuggly, much more comfortable than my usual skimpy underwear, maybe I do have a diaper kink after all. The bodysuit was more like a onesie, comfortable, soft, and full coverage, my hair was next brushed and styled in a side braid, I didn't look bad at all, no makeup was added making me look younger than I am.

“Ceanna, honey. It’s time to get up. You don’t want to be late for school.” “Okay, Mama. I’m going to shower now.” “Atta girl!” Moira Daley said, not moving until her daughter actually got to her bathroom and closed the door. Chuckling when she heard the deep sigh as the shower turned on, she turned away and headed downstairs. Ceanna emerged fifteen minutes later in what Moira liked to call one of her signature looks. Because it was still winter, her third child was wearing calf high flat boots, distressed denim which was almost all the way hidden by an oversized jersey. Though it obliterated the girls beautiful figure, she still made it look chic and yet inconspicuous. Ceanna wasn’t wearing