Adult baby Cece squirmed on my lap, her cheeks now as pink as the little bow in her hair. Her big girl defiance had melted into soft sniffles and tiny whimpers, just the way she needed it too. Each swat to her bare bottom wasn’t about pain, it was about correction, about reminding her that her place was here, safely regressed, under firm control and guidance.
SMACK! SMACK!
The sound of my firm hand hitting her soft skin echoed around the adult baby changing room with every impact. Her little legs kicked out again and her little lacy socks bobbed helplessly, but I wrapped my arm tighter around her waist, keeping her snug and still.
“You thought I wouldn’t notice, hmm? Using grown up sentences like you’re in charge.” I leaned in close, my voice low and firm in her ear. “Adult babies like you need rules, and when you break them…this is where you end up.”
Cece’s eyes welled up with tears, not from pain, but from the overwhelming wave of humiliation, of being pulled back down into that soft helpless headspace. Her lip trembled, her pride barely clinging on, but she nodded. That was the magic moment. The surrender.
“There we go,” I cooed, now letting my hand rest gently on her bottom, still warm from the spanking. “Now you’re ready to behave, aren’t you? My silly, pouty little adult baby.”
She nodded again, slower this time. No more fighting. No more big girl nonsense. Just adult baby Cece, disciplined and soon to be swaddled in a thick terry nappy and plastic pants. By this time, she soon released that she was at my mercy.
I lifted her gently and cradled her into my chest, one hand patting her exposed bottom with
slow rhythmic motions. “Lets get you settled with your dummy and stuffie. No more thinking. Just cuddles and soft blankies for the rest of the day.