mellow-september: “Sweetie, can you lie back like a good little girl?” my boyfriend aske
mellow-september: “Sweetie, can you lie back like a good little girl?” my boyfriend asked condescendingly, as if I was a two-year-old toddler and not his adult girlfriend. “You did a big poo-poo and Daddy needs to change your stinky nappy, princess.” I cringed at his belittling tone, at his choice of words, and at the way he smirked when he saw me blushing with humiliation. Perhaps the only thing more degrading than messing my pants like a baby was having Daddy change my nappy afterwards. Every time he’d tease and taunt me until I felt like I wanted to be swallowed up by the ground. “Awww, has Daddy got a grumpy girl on his hands?” he asked. Then he reached out quickly to tickle my tummy, making me wiggle on the floor of the bathroom and shriek with laughter despite my embarrassment. I felt disgusted as my squirming caused the mess in my nappy to squish against my bottom, but his tickling fingers made sure all I could do was giggle madly as if I was enjoying every second. “There’s my giggly girl!” he cooed. “There’s Daddy’s happy baby!” As I recovered my breath, I felt him rip off the tapes on either side of my nappy and pull down the front, revealing the filthy mess I’d made in my pants. “P-U!” he said, wrinkling his nose and waving a hand in front of his face theatrically. “How could such a pretty little girl make such a stinky mess, hmm?” I felt tears of shame stinging my eyes, but I knew crying wouldn’t stop my babyish treatment. Though he was always very tender and loving towards me, Daddy had no sympathy when I whined about how embarrassing it was to be treated like a baby. It was just part of my life now, he’d say. “I don’t think many girls your age are still in nappies, are they baby?” Daddy teased, grabbing my ankles and lifting my legs into the air to expose my messy bottom. “No, Daddy…” I whimpered tearfully. “No,” he agreed, working away at my mucky bottom with a pack of icy-cold baby wipes. “It must be very embarrassing to know that other girls get to walk around their houses in sexy lingerie, while you have to toddle around in stinky nappies instead.” I sobbed pathetically, tears spilling down my cheeks. I couldn’t help it. I’d never felt more humiliated, more condescended, more infantilised in my whole life. I was supposed to be an adult woman! I used to be independent and mature and sophisticated, and now I was lying on the bathroom floor getting my nappy changed! “Awww, don’t cry princess! Are you sad because you did a yucky poo-poo in your pants instead of using the toilet like a real adult would?” I cried even harder at that, but there was tenderness in his eyes when I looked into them, and I nuzzled his hand when he brought it to my cheek to wipe away my tears. “There, there, gorgeous girl,” he said gently, tugging out the dirty nappy from underneath me. “Daddy doesn’t care if you’ve got a stinky bottom, baby. Daddy loves you, no matter what.” My tummy fluttered at his words, then my whole body squirmed in pleasure as I felt a cool baby wipe pass over my pussy. “Hold still, darling. Daddy needs to wipe all the icky wee-wees off you.” I did my best to keep still, and to keep myself from moaning, as he wiped me clean and slid a soft, new nappy underneath me. “There we go, little angel!” he cooed, sprinkling baby powder all over my front and bottom. “Now you’re all clean and dry, and soon you’ll smell fresh as a daisy for Daddy!” He lifted my legs again to pat more baby powder onto my bottom, a little harder than was necessary, and I blushed as I felt my cheeks jiggling. “You’ve been such a good girl for your nappy change, baby girl!” Daddy praised, pulling my nappy up and taping it securely around my waist. “Now I think we should go have a nice long cuddle, okay little princess?” -- source link