littlesweety

[littlesweety]

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[littlesweety]

Website mock-up for regressionschool

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[littlesweety]

littleabbyrose

Big Age: 28 Little Age: 2

Maturity Level: Little Abby is a gentle, shy soul with a tender heart. She is emotionally sensitive, craves reassurance, and thrives on loving cuddles and gentle encouragement. While she understands the world of grown-ups, she much prefers the magic and safety of toddlerhood, where rules are simpler and snuggles fix everything.

Potty Untraining: Abby is currently in the midst of embracing her little life more fully. She wears diapers at night due to frequent accidents and is starting to transition into wearing them during the day as well, moving away from pull-ups. While she still feels a little embarrassed about going potty in her diaper, she is learning to accept this as part of her little space and is supported lovingly by her caregivers.

Personality & Interests:

Loves movies and cartoons, especially anything from Studio Ghibli

My Neighbor Totoro makes her giggle

Dreams of being strong like Princess Mononoke

Deeply shy and affectionate

Loves cuddles and snuggling up with trusted caregivers

Favorite Comfort Items:

A beloved pink-and-rainbow blankie with silky edges — always by her side at bedtime

A fluffy caterpillar stuffie named Bastion, her nighttime protector

Super-soft, fluffy socks that keep her toes cozy at night

Snack Preferences:

Blueberries (watch out for the onesie stains!)

Apples with peanut butter

Her favorite bubba with unicorns on it, always filled with apple juice

Disclaimer: Regression School reminds all prospective caregivers that the information above is as provided by the applicant. Truthfulness cannot be guaranteed, but the cuteness definitely can.

@littleabbyrose

[littlesweety]

Smell Your Place

The soft tick of the nursery clock marked the passage of time with a syrupy slowness. Plush pastels and the faint, ever-present scent of powder clung to the walls like a second skin. Somewhere distant, a lullaby played.

Clarice stood at the edge of the hallway, arms folded neatly over her starched uniform, her eyes narrowed with quiet calculation. She had her rounds, as always, and her expectations—meticulously kept, unwavering.

Maid Briony had been on shift for three hours.

Three.

And yet…

Clarice’s heels clicked once, then again, as she made her way into the laundry room, where Briony stood dutifully folding a mountain of bibs and onesies. Her posture was stiff, her expression focused, almost…proud of herself. Clarice’s eyes dropped instinctively to the seat of the girl’s uniform—where the telltale puff of padding should have drooped, shifted, or darkened.

It hadn't.

Still dry.

“Briony,” Clarice’s voice came silk-sweet, but her steps were sharp as a blade slicing through butter. The maid turned, eyes wide, alert.

“Yes, Miss Clarice?”

The head caretaker didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she stepped forward, gliding with the kind of presence that turned air into atmosphere. Without asking, without warning, she lifted the hem of Briony’s uniform. A rustle of stiff plastic followed as Clarice pressed two fingers against the front of the girl’s diaper, then flattened her palm over it.

Smooth. Dry. Still crinkling softly, like new.

Clarice’s eyes flicked up slowly, her smile never touching the chill in her tone. “Three hours on the clock and not even a little sag.”

Briony swallowed, eyes dipping.

“I—I didn’t feel the need yet, Miss Clarice. I thought maybe after the next feeding…”

“You thought?” Clarice echoed, almost amused. “Is that what we do here, Briony? Think like big girls?”

Briony flushed a deep red, the tips of her ears glowing.

Clarice let the uniform fall, but her fingers didn’t retreat entirely. Instead, she tapped lightly against the padding. “You’re here to follow, not think. Filling that diaper is your duty just as much as your tray or your mop. And right now, it's a failure.” Clarice’s next step was slow, deliberate. She reached forward, not harshly but with a firm grip on the front of Briony’s collar and pulled the maid to her knees.

“You clearly need a reminder of what a good woman on this staff smells like,” she murmured.

Then, without hesitation, she pulled the girl close and pressed Briony’s face snugly into the soft, warm back of her diaper. It sagged slightly from use, thick and unmistakably swollen.

“There we go,” Clarice said sweetly. “Breathe deep. Smell that? That’s what success smells like here.”

Briony shuddered, lips parting softly, her face nearly melting against the padded warmth. “You’ll be like this soon,” Clarice promised, pulling back just a little and lifting Briony’s chin. “Or you’ll be back on the street. Your choice.”

[littlesweety]

Happy Wiggles

The moment Becky stepped through the front door, she dropped the mask.

Her heels were kicked off without ceremony, purse tossed onto the entryway bench. The blazer slid down her arms, discarded into a heap with a long sigh of relief.

She stood there a moment, toes curling into the carpet, letting the silence of the house wrap around her like a blanket. The grown-up world had taken its pound of flesh today: reports, meetings, awkward elevator small talk. But now? That world had no place here.

She glanced down the hallway.

The nursery door stood cracked open, as if waiting for her.

A smile tugged at her lips. Her pace quickened, her stride transforming from office-worker to eager little one. By the time she pushed the door open, her heart was fluttering. Inside, soft pastel walls glowed under warm lamplight. Plushies waited on shelves. The scent of powder, lavender, and something sweet, something safe, filled the air.

“Hi, babies,” she whispered to her stuffies. “I’m home.”

She giggled. Correction. Baby’s home.

She undressed with a quiet reverence, folding her adult clothes and placing them neatly on the dresser, like tucking away a skin she no longer needed. Her eyes scanned the open diaper drawer, selecting the one that always made her feel the littlest — white with clouds, suns, and a smiling lion across the landing zone.

She laid it flat on the changing mat and lowered herself down.

The cool padding kissed her skin, and with practiced ease, she powdered herself and pulled the front panel snugly over her hips. The tapes crinkled gently as she fastened each one. Left, right, left, right. Then the snug pat-pat on her belly.

She sat up slowly, hugging herself, feeling the soft swell between her thighs. A delighted squeal slipped out of her. She wriggled her hips side to side and giggled.

“Okay,” she whispered, grabbing her favorite pastel tee, the one with the smiling narwhals. “Now I’m ready.”

Becky plopped onto her play mat, diaper crinkling beneath her. She crawled among plushies and stacked blocks, building towers only to knock them over with dramatic gasps and giggles.

She lay on her back, arms out, Mr. Puddlepaws the bunny tucked under one arm. She wiggled in a slow rhythm. Left, right. Crinkle, squish. Left, right. Her eyes fluttered closed.

“This,” she whispered, “is the Happy Wiggle.”

Her dry diaper wrapped around her like a soft shell. The gentle rustle, the warmth of her room, and the fading light of the setting sun outside all melted together into something cozy and perfect.

Happy wiggles.

She sipped from her bottle of chokkie milk, reading from a picture book aloud, doing voices for every character, snorting with laughter at her own silliness. It was as if the grown-up world was a faraway dream, something impossible and unreal.

Then it came.

That gentle pressure in her tummy. Not urgent, not unpleasant — just a nudge. A reminder that her big-girl panties were folded neatly somewhere far, far away.

She paused, one hand resting on her belly. The other held Mr. Puddlepaws tightly.

She looked down at her padded front. “Guess I don’t gotta hold it anymore, huh?”

She relaxed.

Warmth bloomed beneath her, spreading quickly through the padding. She shivered in delight. Her fingers gripped her stuffie tighter. She let out a small gasp as the front of her diaper swelled, the heat and softness growing thicker, heavier. It squished as she moved slightly.

She couldn’t help herself. She lay back, arms out again, legs slightly splayed, and began to wiggle.

Side to side. Crinkle. Squish. Side to side. Crinkle. Squish.

“Happy… wiggles…” she cooed to herself, eyes dazed, lost in the softness and safety of it all. The feel of the swollen padding under her. The warmth between her legs. The pressure gone. The world softened. Nothing existed outside this.

She was still giggling softly when she heard it, the distant sound of the garage door.

Becky froze.

Her heart skipped.

“Daddy!”

She leapt to her feet (well, waddled), rushed down the hall, and waited by the living room archway, clutching Mr. Puddlepaws tightly. Her breathing quickened with excitement.

The door opened.

He stepped inside, placing his keys in the bowl, already loosening his tie, his usual end-of-day sigh escaping his lips...

Until he saw her.

He froze, smile creeping onto his lips the moment he took her in.

Becky stood proud, feet apart, her soggy diaper plainly visible below the hem of her shirt. Her hair a fluffy mess, cheeks rosy, her paci dangling from a ribbon clipped to her tee.

“Hi, Daddy,” she said softly, eyes wide and glowing.

His gaze dropped to the unmistakably used diaper, the discoloration impossible to miss. She saw the exact moment his lips parted in a knowing grin.

He crossed the room slowly, eyes locked on hers. “Someone’s been busy.”

Becky grinned behind her paci. “I was a good girl,” she said, swaying from side to side, the squish and crinkle only making Daddy smile more. “I kept it in my diapie like a real little one.”

He stopped just in front of her, crouching down and resting a hand gently on her squishy diaper.

“Nice and soggy,” he said warmly. “You feel better now, princess?”

She nodded quickly. “Mhm. I even made Happy Wiggles!”

“Oh, you did, huh?” He raised an eyebrow. “Those the kind where you squish like a little worm on your back and giggle like a cartoon?”

Becky’s face flushed. “Maybe…”

He laughed, scooping her up into his arms. “That’s my silly girl.”

Becky melted into him, head resting on his chest, arms wrapped tight around his neck. The warmth of her soggy diaper pressed firmly against his hip, and he didn’t seem to mind one bit. She could smell his cologne — that warm, familiar scent that always made her feel safe.

“Missed you, Daddy,” she whispered.

“I missed you too, squishy buns.”

He walked them to the couch, settling down with her in his lap. The lights dimmed, the TV flicked on to some colorful cartoon with cheerful music and dancing animals. Becky didn’t care.

She was already floating.

Her legs curled around him, her diaper rustled softly with every tiny shift. His hand rubbed her back in slow, comforting circles.

She let out a long sigh, content.

And then — gently, with a sleepy smile curling across her lips — Becky began to wiggle.

Side to side. Soft. Slow. Happy wiggles.

Daddy chuckled quietly, planting a kiss on the top of her head.

Wrapped in his arms, her squishy diaper pressed warmly between them, her paci bobbing lazily in her mouth, Becky sighed again.

This wasn’t just comfort.

This was home.

Happy wiggles in Daddy’s arms.

[littlesweety]

Too Good to Be True

When he first told her about Regression School, she rolled her eyes and laughed. A daycare for adults who wear diapers? A playhouse for “littles” to color, nap, and play pretend? It sounded like something pulled from one of their more elaborate roleplays, not something real. She had only ever played his babygirl at home, in the quiet safety of their shared space. Pacis and onesies were part of their private world, never meant to leave the bedroom or, at most, the living room.

Even when he handed her the sign-up forms, she thought he was just deepening the fantasy. She filled them out with a giggle, half-expecting him to break character and laugh with her. But he didn’t. He only smiled warmly and kissed her on the forehead, telling her how proud he was of his brave little girl. She figured he was just committing to the bit, nothing more.

Now, she stood in the hallway of their apartment, wearing a short-sleeved dress that barely reached the top of her thighs, the edge of her thick, crinkly diaper peeking out with every tiny movement. Her hair was pulled into neat pigtails. She shifted uncomfortably, the bulk between her legs unmistakable. Daddy was packing her bag with all the essentials—juice box, stuffie, extra diapers, her nap blankie. He hummed to himself, calm and focused, like this was a normal morning routine. She watched, waiting for the moment he'd break the illusion.

But he never did.

It wasn’t until the door opened and she saw it, that van parked by the curb, powder-blue with cartoon characters painted along the side, that her smile faltered. A uniformed woman was stepping out with a clipboard. A car seat waited inside. Her heartbeat slammed against her chest. She turned to Daddy, suddenly unsure, hoping to catch a flicker of mischief in his eyes, a hint of the old joke they were both in on. But there was none. He looked down at her with all the seriousness and warmth of a real parent sending their babygirl off for her first day.

That was when it hit her. This wasn’t pretend . She wasn’t just Daddy’s little girl in the bedroom. She was really being dropped off, diapered, dressed, and packed for her first day at Regression School. And as the woman at the door cooed, “You must be our new student! Don’t be shy, sweetie,” she realized with a jolt: her diaper was already damp.

[littlesweety]

You’re getting a sister

When Daddy first told her she was getting a sister, her stomach sank. Not from formula or prune mush, but something deeper: heartbreak. She didn’t care if her diaper was wet. She didn’t care that she couldn’t remember the last time she used the potty. All she knew was that Daddy was hers. Her boyfriend. Her Daddy. The idea of Daddy kissing someone else, calling someone else “princess,” wiping another girl’s soggy bottom? It made her heart burn with something too sharp to name. She wasn’t just a soggy little girl! She was Daddy’s girlfriend! Or at least… she used to be.

She had cried. Thrown her stuffie. Refused her baba. Daddy just waited patiently, patting her soggy bottom and letting her tantrum burn out. Then he knelt down and spoke the words that crushed her spirit like nothing else could: “Sweetie, girls who sit in soggy diapers all day aren’t women. They’re little girls. And little girls don’t get to have boyfriends, they get to have sisters.” Her lip had trembled. Her Pampers squelched as she shifted in shock. She was too stunned to even argue.

She planned to hate her new sister. She really did. But when the girl arrived—pigtails bouncing, diaper thick and pink, face glowing with shy blushes—something shifted. The jealousy dulled, replaced by a strange, fluttery warmth. It started small: holding hands during cartoon time. Falling asleep in the same crib. Whispering to each other after Daddy tucked them in. Soon, they were stealing kisses between diaper checks. Giggling when Daddy found them cuddled together in a soggy pile of plushies and baby powder.

Now, there isn’t a single day they don’t beg to wear matching diapers. One in powder pink with a soft satin bow. The other in sky blue with frilly ruffles. Matching hair ties, matching pacis, matching whimpers as they squirm in their wet padding, desperate for Daddy’s touch or each other’s. They cling tight during changies, kissing softly while Daddy wipes their princess parts clean, eyes dreamy and full of love.

Daddy watches them with a knowing smile, calling them his “soggy little soulmates.” And they beam at his praise, their cheeks burning pinker than their diapers. Sometimes they cry when they’re apart—even for naps. They don’t know how they ever lived without each other.

Daddy was right. Having a sister is the best.

[littlesweety]

The Camera

Amanda sat on the padded edge of the changing table, legs dangling, the soft rustle of her thick white diaper audible every time she shifted. The bulge beneath her pink onesie left no doubt as to what she was wearing or how impossible it was to hide. In her lap rested the oversized light-brown teddy bear Daddy had sent her this morning, its stitched smile wide and unblinking, just like the lens she was facing now.

She didn’t know who was on the other side of the camera. Maybe one person. Maybe dozens. Maybe hundreds. She didn’t dare ask. All Amanda knew was that she had to be entertaining. Daddy had said so, in the same calm, unyielding tone that made her stomach twist. The alternative to playing along wasn’t worth thinking about.

“D-did Daddy’s pwincess… get a pwesent today?” she lisped deliberately, eyes wide, letting the babyish cadence settle into her voice. She hugged the bear tightly to her chest, rocking side to side. “Teddy… say h-hiiiii!” Her gaze flicked toward the small red light above the lens, confirming it was still live. The light always felt like it was staring back, silently judging every coo and wiggle.

She turned the bear toward the camera, lifting one of its floppy arms in a wave. The thick mittens she wore made her grip clumsy, which Daddy would like. He’d told her once that the harder it was to act “grown-up,” the better she looked on camera. “Dis… is Mr. Snuggles,” she announced, burying her face in the plush fur for a moment before peeking up shyly. “He’s my… my bestest fwiend in da whowe wowld.”

Amanda swayed in place, kicking her feet lightly, letting the thick padding under her onesie bunch and creak in a way the microphone would catch. Every exaggerated babyish sound, the creak of plastic, the soft squish, made heat rise in her cheeks. She clung to Mr. Snuggles, feeling the camera’s invisible weight pressing her into her role. Her voice wavered, but she didn’t stop.

“I-I take him e-evewywhere, ‘cause… ‘cause Daddy says… Daddy says good giwls keep their teddy cwose.” She pressed her cheek to the bear’s round head and smiled at the lens, forcing herself to beam like she was genuinely proud of that rule. “An’… a good giwl… nevah…” She swallowed, the lisp curling her words into something foreign and clumsy. “…Nevah gets lonely, ‘cause Teddy’s dere to wisten when Daddy’s busy.”

For a beat, Amanda’s eyes softened. It was almost easy to pretend that this was harmless. Just silly play. Just a woman humoring a strange, private performance. But then she shifted, and the bulky diaper underneath her tugged at the snaps of her onesie, reminding her exactly how far from “normal” this was.

She sat the bear upright beside her on the table, propping him so he could “watch” the audience too. “Do you wan’ me to sing to him? Daddy says I sing pwetty.” She leaned in conspiratorially toward the lens, lowering her voice to a whisper that was still cloyingly sweet. “Daddy wikes it when I sing… even if I mess up the wowds.”

Her voice wobbled through a fractured nursery rhyme, each lisp and stumble carefully performed, her face lighting up in mock pride at the end. She clapped for herself, the padded bulk between her thighs forcing her hands to move awkwardly.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she wondered how long she’d been doing this. Minutes? Hours? It didn’t matter. She knew better than to stop before she was told. So she turned back to Mr. Snuggles and pressed her nose to his. “You’re my best fwiend, Teddy. We gonna pway all day, huh?”

The room was quiet except for her sing-song babble, until the screen above the camera blinked on. She froze. The swirling spiral filled her vision, sharp and bright, drawing her forward with every turn.

Then Daddy’s voice flooded the room, deep and warm, seeping into her thoughts.

“Good girl.”

[littlesweety]

3 little girls for 3 x more silly things! 😈

Charlotte & Lucy is wearing Dragoonz diaper by @lngu-abdl

More on FRDiaperGirls.com

http://lngu-abdl.com

http://lngu-abdl.fr

[littlesweety]

[littlesweety]

[littlesweety]

The small vibrating egg inside your wet pussy buzzed frantically causing your cute little ass to wriggle inside the soggy messy diaper you are trapped in. But that is the least of your problems.

The nurse is forcing a huge thick rubber pacifier gag into your mouth. You try to resist but as you tried to stand the boots on your feet have small sharp spikes that dug deep into your feet This causes you so much pain you immediately fell back on your messy diapered butt.

This causes the filth to flood the front and back of your giant diaper. The warm stinky poop fills your diaper. The pacifier gag is forced into your mouth and fastened tightly. There is no removing it.

You tried to pull and wiggle your hands free but the very tight pink straight jacket you've been placed in doesn't allow you to budge at all. The nurse, the person who is responsible for your current situation stands behind you looking at you

She tightens your pacifier gag and whispers into your ear that you’re going to be staying in the nursery and won’t be leaving any time soon. “Well at least until we can find a Mommy or Daddy for you…” she purred

She bundles you onto the giant adult sized crib. You lay helpless. Face up unable to move bale cause of the pink straightjacket. Even so, she fastens your ankles to the crib with thick brown leather straps

Then she puts the headphones on you and starts the hypnosis to ensure you lose all control of your bowels and bladder.

She adjusts the headphones telling you it is pointless trying to resist and that if you do try to resist she will give you a sedative which will make it impossible for you to resist and will accelerate your regression.

She takes great delight in explaining how the sound frequency of the music and sounds and the repetition of the words will leave your mind helplessly hypnotised and will regress you to the a babylike state.

You lay there in your messy soaking diaper for what seems to be hours just wondering what the hell is happening around you.

Image credit ABDreams

[littlesweety]

Entirely incapable

You only meant to be gone a minute.

The package on the porch looked innocent enough. But when Mrs. Tisdale caught you on your way back in, you couldn’t just brush her off, twenty minutes later, after a long-winded chat about HOA flowerpots and her new rescue cat, you finally escape. You laugh at yourself as you reach for the nursery door, only to freeze the moment you see her.

She’s exactly where you left her.

Laying flat on her back on the changing table, legs bent just a little. Pacifier gently bobbing in her mouth, eyes wide and distant. Her cheeks are pink, but not from embarrassmen. Just waiting. Patiently. Trusting. Her freshly cleaned skin glows under the soft light, and the thick, white diaper still lays open beneath her hips. Untouched. Unfastened. The tapes haven’t moved an inch.

You stare at her. “Sweetheart… you didn’t put your diaper on?”

She sucks her paci harder and shakes her head, just once.

It hits you in that moment not just how long she’s been regressed, but how deep she’s fallen. How much she’s come to rely on you for everything. Taping a clean diaper should’ve been a simple task, something she could’ve managed. But looking at her now, eyes glassy with that faraway little space haze… she’s not just waiting.

She’s incapable.

She simply couldn’t do it.

You step forward, letting your hand settle gently on her tummy. Her skin nice and warm, faintly smelling of powder and lotion. The sight tugs at something deep in your chest. “Oh, baby…” you murmur, lowering your voice to that quiet, syrupy tone she loves, “you really do need Daddy for everything now, huh?”

Her answer is a soft, barely audible whine behind her pacifier, followed by the faintest squirm as she sinks further into the table’s padding. You slide the diaper up, snug and secure, pulling the tapes tight one at a time. Her body doesn’t resist. She doesn’t try to help. She’s still—peaceful. You realize she’s gone totally pliant under your touch, as if even holding her legs up would be too big a job for her little brain now.

When the final tape smooths down, you tuck your hand under her back and lift her gently into your arms. She melts into you instantly, arms looping around your neck in that clumsy way she does when she’s deep in her little space. Her head finds its familiar spot on your shoulder. You feel the soft puff of her breath, slow and heavy.

You lower into the rocking chair and pull the fuzzy blanket over both of you, cradling her in your lap. Her fresh diaper crinkles faintly as she shifts, nuzzling against your chest. You brush her hair behind her ear, pressing a kiss to her temple.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” you whisper. “You don’t have to worry about anything. Daddy’s here. And Daddy’s not going anywhere.”

She doesn’t say a word but the way she sighs, the way she clutches tighter to you with her warm, helpless little body… that says everything.

She’s yours. Entirely.

And you’ll make sure she never has to grow up again.

[littlesweety]

Sneaking Out of Bed

I smile as I watch through half-lidded eyelids as you slide out of bed as quietly as possible.

Your soggy nighttime diaper crinkles loudly, causing you to wince, and look back at me frantically, confirming that I haven't woken up.

Was it really just three months ago that I caught you trying to sneak out of bed for the first time?

That scene was adorable.

Your hair was a mess and your make-up had ran, but you still radiated with a beauty I found intoxicating.

Just like right now, you'd been careful with your movements, trying desperately not to wake me.

Just as your feet touched the ground, I'd asked where you were going.

You immediately covered your face and froze in place like a small child. The puddle of urine, caused by being startled, added to the effect.

Tears rolled down your cheeks as you explained to me you had done this every morning after we slept together. You leaned into me, as you explained your fear at me seeing you without your hair and make-up done.

You were so relieved when I reaffirmed that I loved you just how you were and told you that I'd prove it.

You were less relieved when you learned the solution involved you wearing diapers at night, although you couldn't argue that it wasn't an eloquent solution.

Diapers would both remove any need to leave bed early and deal with the bladder control issues the little puddle you were sitting in so clearly showed you had.

So, imagine my surprise now, after this issue had been resolved, to find you sneaking out of bed again.

"Baby," I groaned as you stood up, causing you to freeze in place just like three months earlier, "Where do you think you're going?"

A loud hissing noise fills the room, as you turn, hiding your messy hair to reveal your shocked, make-up-less face.

"Papa, it's not what it looks like!" You chirped as your diaper, already soggy from the night before, begins to leak down your legs, "I... I just didn't want you to know... To know how bad it was."

Just like that moment months early, tears start to roll down your cheeks as you try to hide your shame, this time a soggy diaper, from me.

I pull you onto my lap, ignoring the wetness on my legs as I give you a soft kiss.

"Baby," I say softly as our lips release, not letting my soft eyes stray from yours, "I already told you, I don't care what you look like in the morning, including the state of your diaper. I love you too much to worry about a silly little thing like that."

Without another word, I scoop you up in my arms and begin carrying you from the room as you press your body into mine.

"We are going to have to do something about you sneaking out of bed though. This is becoming a problem! Luckily, Papa has another solution."

I kick open the door to my guest room that has been converted into an adult-sized nursery.

"It's going to be harder to sneak out, when you have to climb over railings, isn't it, little one?"

Your breath catches, and I can feel both your excitement and fear about what the next three months of our relationship might bring.

[littlesweety]

Is this company recruiting? I work for free! 🫡

Charlotte is wearing Dragoonz diaper by @lngu-abdl

More on FRDiaperGirls.com

http://lngu-abdl.com

http://lngu-abdl.fr

[littlesweety]

I will be taking a break from A.I. But here is the last live action advert I made which got my account on Patreon deleted. I am contemplating making a suscribestar, but I am not to sure. What do you think?