miniaturecandyparadise

[miniaturecandyparadise]

I want to be hardcore babied.

• Pick me up.

• Let me sit on your lap.

• Bottle-feed me.

• Tell me to put in my paci cuz it just makes me look so cute.

• Ask me if I need help.

• Tell me I’m too tiny to do things on my own.

• Call me your good little boy.

• Ask me where my favorite stuffie is, and call him by his name.

• Pick out my clothes for me and dress me up.

• Run me a bubble bath and sit on the edge of the tub with bath toys and pile bubbles on my head.

• Put on my favorite movie/cartoon without me asking and cuddle me while we watch it.

• Compliment me out of the blue.

• Hold my hand in public so I don’t get lost.

• Put me in a onesie and make me take a nap.

• Buy me giant stuffies to snuggle with.

• Read me a bedtime story.

• Act silly and make me laugh.

• Ask me what sound an animal makes.

• Praise me for simple tasks.

• Bring me juice in a sippy cup.

• Wrap me up in a bunch of blankets when it’s cold.

• Tell me I’m your precious little angel.

• Just baby me, please.

[miniaturecandyparadise]

Reblog If…

[miniaturecandyparadise]

If you're a tboy wearing boxers in front of me what am I supposed to do? Not put my fingers in the perfectly boycunt sized hole to slide over your cock and up inside you? That's what it's there for keep up dogbrain

[miniaturecandyparadise]

puppy, i promise if you sit on my lap while we are hanging out i will not get hard!! i will not push my bulge up into your pretty boycunt. i will not hold your hips down and feel you squirm in my hands. i certainly will not protest when you start bouncing up and down on me, begging for my cock through our clothes.

[miniaturecandyparadise]

“Fuck you my child is completely fine” ma’am your child calls me mommy, lets me cut their food up into pieces so they can chew better, lets me put diapers on them and pees in said diapers , holds my hand while crossing the street and asks for “paci kisses” yeah they’re definitely fine.

[miniaturecandyparadise]

You did your best to hide the signs. The strain on your face. The way you ball up your fists. The tiny grunts. The inevitable sigh of pleasure at the relief from the pressure in your bowels.

Papa very rarely spoke to you like this--like an adult. You never got the opportunity to talk about art, politics, and the economy anymore. You weren't going to squander the opportunity by letting on that you were actively messing your diaper.

Unfortunately, while you may have been able to mask the physical signs of your childish loss of control, there was nothing you could do to mask the smell.

"Baby," Papa sighed disappointedly, cutting you off mid sentence, "And here I was so proud of you for acting so big! Turn around and bend over."

Your face turned red in both embarrassment and rage. How had he known? How dare he cut you off during such an important discussion for a diaper check (no matter how much you needed it)?

Those words were more than enough to throw you into a full blown temper tantrum. You raged, screamed, and threw yourself to the floor to prevent Papa from discovering the stinky mess hiding in your shorts. Tears rolled down your face as you cried out against the indignity of it all.

You were an adult.

You were having an adult conversation.

It just wasn't fair.

However, within a minute of losing control of your bowels, the illusion of maturity you had been living in had completely dissolved.

Instead of debating the workings of the world, you had found yourself back over Papa's lap, having your messy bottom spanked for not obeying him. Exactly where you belonged.