Diaper Regression Story Novels & Stories

Emily was in class, everything was normal until she felt the urge to pee, she didn't want to go, she isn't allowed to use the bathroom anymore, she has to use her diaper or call for her mama. She didn't want to feel little in that particular moment, she decided to hold it in, but holding it in turned out to be really hard, her stomach started to hurt, she ignored the pain, but the pain only got worse.

“Can we just sleep, please?” Nodding slowly, Mattel presses his forehead against the back of Jana’s head. “Good night.” “Good night, your majesty.” * * Forty days after their daughter is born, Regina is starting to feel like she’s got this. She will be able to go home sooner rather than later, and she’s getting excited. Every day her strength returns to her, her muscles grow firmer, her abdomen flat, her body shifting into what it once was--the body of a fighter.

My father asked in a sweet voice, a tone alien to me. He grasped her ankle and lifted her bottom carefully to take off the dirty diaper. When I saw her poop, I now understood why she was crying. She was no longer comfortable with her diaper. Dad gently wiped her skin until she was thoroughly clean, and before he put her on a clean diaper, he checked on her skin. He shook his head, seeing red rashes. “When was the last time you changed her diaper, Alex?” He asked, taking the ointment from the pocket of the bag and gently applying the cream to her skin.

I don't know why he found that funny, but he giggled. His giggle was so contagious, so sweet that I wanted to hear it again, so I kept talking to him. I didn't use baby talk because he didn't seem to need it, but he watched me steadily as if taking my measure. I looked at the mechanics of the diaper and went to work before he offloaded on me again and stood him up on the counter to make sure it didn't slide down his legs.

RELEASE "We were on our way back home when he was still ranting, driving and talking about how stupid doctors are and how they don't pay attention to patients who complain. That's when I put my hand on his arm and told him that the doctors might be right. It's like he woke up, you know, and actually listened to me. He asked what I meant by that and I told him that maybe my body will always be like this, or at least until the baby is older. I told him I saw a news report about it, saying that some women take months, if not years, to get back to their pre-pregnancy body, and some never do. He looked at me like I was crazy. He asked me if I wanted to continue with that body, that way, and befor

Marcus murmured, watching them. "I have no idea what I'm doing." "Neither does she. You're figuring it out together." After the feed, Marcus insisted on doing the first diaper change. It was a comedy of errors. The tiny diaper seemed impossibly small and complicated. The baby, objecting to the sudden exposure, wailed with impressive lung power. He fumbled with the tabs, got them crooked, had to start over. Keira, weak with exhaustion and holding back laughter, watched him panic. When he finally succeeded, triumphantly holding up the soiled diaper like a trophy, they both collapsed into helpless, silent giggles, tears streaming down their faces, the baby staring up at them with what looked li

“Sowwie, mommy.” Riko sighed as he gave her the sad puppy eyes. “Let’s finish our cookies and find our tree.” She suggested. The kids eagerly devoured their cookies and hot chocolate. Have you ever tried to help three toddlers out of snowsuits to use the bathroom? It’s not easy. Add in getting a two-month-old out of his to change his diaper and his entire outfit. Yay, diaper blowouts. Heavy parental sarcasm there.

"I guess you could say I’m running away from someone. And LA seems like a safe enough place for us." His eyes softened with curiosity and concern. "Us?" he asked gently. "So… you’re not really alone, then?" My hand moved instinctively to my belly — a protective gesture I’d been doing more often without even realizing it. The baby bump was still small, not obvious yet, but it was there. "It’s me… and my child," I said in a quiet voice. "We’re running away from his… cheating father." Clint’s expression shifted, his easy smile replaced by something more serious. "I’m so sorry you’re going through that," he said softly. "That sounds… really tough. Do you have a place to stay when you get there?"

“Let’s see if you can handle diaper duty one-handed.” Bill raises an eyebrow. “You really think I can’t?” I give him a look. He sighs dramatically. “Fine. Teach me, oh wise one.” I shake my head, trying not to laugh. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” ******************** Fifteen minutes later, Bill is officially humbled. He stands next to me, staring down at the disaster of a diaper situation in front of him. His fingers are still awkward with the tabs, his one-handed approach making things much harder than he expected.

diaper. Gently laying her down on the bed, I checked her diaper. Sure enough, it was full. Of course. Grabbing the last clean one, I tried to remember how Roan had done it yesterday. My hands were clumsy, and I muttered a string of curses under my breath, but after what felt like an eternity, the new diaper was on. It wasn’t perfect, but it would do. I wanted to mentally tap myself for not messing it up.