Baby Sissy Tammy writes me a story
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Baby Sissy Tammy writes me a storyWhy I want to be diapered, Why I know that I belong in diapers, and Why I want to wear diapers permanentlyIt all started when I was 12 years old and my mother walked in on me in her white satin granny panties. I was like a deer in headlights as my mother walked in the door and she didn’t yell or scream at me. She just stood there at the foot of my bed, her Salem 100 cigarette dangling from her orange painted lips and watched.From that moment on, my mother kept trying to put me in skirts and petticoats, teasing me about that time she caught me in her panties. I never took her up on the offer mind you, but I always wanted to. I was just too scared at the time you see. And that’s really a running theme. Being a cared little one in a big girl’s body.Why do I want to be diapered> I’ve come to realize that I’m pretty güvenilir bahis much desperate for attention and starved of a c***dhood I never got to have. for years I had always wanted to have had the courage to take my mother up on her offer of skirts and petticoats, even if she was intending to mock me for wanting it. Being in diapers puts me right back to that time. When I was at my most sexually vulnerable, bearing who I really was to her. A Sissy Baby.In the interval, I grew up, and set myself on course and tried everything from private to public outings in slutwear and leather and latex and I always got a thrill, but I never was ashamed or scared or vulnerable like I was back then. When I go the store and mince down the diaper aisle, that feeling of shame and embarrassment begins to return, when I hit the checkout, I just have to stand güvenilir bahis siteleri there and wonder whether or not, the check-out girl is wondering if I have a c***d at home or if they are for me. Most often, there’s no guesswork involved, they know and I know, but the check-out girl is polite.When I come home and slide a new set of pampers out the pack, I am adrift in the wafting scent of baby-powder and when I slide them up my legs, I know deep down that no adult should want to do this, but me, I’m no ordinary adult, I’m and adult baby, and as the pampers swaddle up around my soft limp clit-thimble, I know that diapers were meant for me.Covering them with a pair of plastic panties, soft and crinkly, sets me to swoon, as I realize that very few people would understand the need of a scared little sissy baby and her love of iddaa siteleri diapers. I realize that to most everyone I’m a pussy of massive proportions and the pampers telegraph to anyone who has ever wondered, that they were absolutely right about me.I am a pussy, a shameful, ridiculous little twatfag. I want to be be in diapers permanently because I want to let everyone know that I’m a scared, ashamed little girl and I want them to tell me what’s on their mind. I want femmes to laugh, and I want other less shameful Sissies to giggle their asses off. Everyone can point and giggle and have a good laugh at my expense. I cry, I let my mascara run and soak up the revulsion and disgust.. just like that time Mommy walked in and wouldn’t leave, watching her little sissy baby make creamies in mommy’s white satin granny panties, painted up like a whore with no clue how to do her makeup properly.And just like that, whenever I pull on my pampers, I remember her wicked laugh, her orange painted smile, taking a drag off her cigarette as she made me realize, this was what I was always meant to be.
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Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32