Cage to baby crib.

Sun, 23 Aug 2026 21:39:10 +0000

The cleanup was methodical. Warm washcloth across my bottom, my thighs, the backs of my legs where his release had dripped. Then powder—the baby-scented cloud of it, dusted across my mound, my creases, the reddened skin of my spanked bottom. Then the fresh diaper—another white one, another pink-star landing zone, the padding thick enough that when he taped it closed, my thighs were pushed slightly apart.