''...c-could yoo gim'meh a smollah' one? I-eh... I fink Imma bit too widdle fuh' dis size w'ight now...''

This pic is a followup to a piece of work I titled ''Poof Proof''. Here's the link to that pic: https://www.furaffinity.net/view/39047232/

- In this scenario, I regressed from a 21-year-old Arctic Wolf, all the way back to a three-year-old toddler cub that can barely speak. Fortunately, some older guy finds me inside my way too big diaper, asking: ''Hey kid, what happened to you? Did you shrink to an infant? Shall I take care of you?'' He introduces himself -- Martini, very good at raising kids, and very playful. Martini lifts me out of my diaper, and takes me into his paws, cooing: ''Let's give you a fitting diaper, huh?'' I nod and giggle, wagging my little white tail. Martini takes me to a changing room and puts me down on a changing table. ''Now lay down on your back, little one'' says Martini. So I obey. I hear some crackling, and I feel my hind paws sliding through the holes of a smaller diaper, which has a cartoon dog print on it. ''There's a good boy...'', I hear Martini say, ''...it suits you to a T'' I sit straight up and touch my fresh diaper with one paw. ''~Hey...? Do you like it?~'', asks Martini satisfied, and I smile. He ruffles my head, then lifts me from the changing table. ''Can you speak?'', he asks. ''U-Uh... y-yeah, ah... I can t-tawk...~'', I answer, ''...b-buh... not as gewd as-s'ah... used tah'' Martini noseboops me and puts me on the floor. I sit down and I feel the poof of my warm diaper being squished between me and the solid floor of the changing room. My tiny tail sways happily from out of the little tail hole of my diaper. ''Well, now that I introduced myself...'', says Martini as he squads down to my level, ''what's your name, kid?'' ''Uh... ...mah n-name's... Lay...'' is my answer. I shyly put one nail in my mouth: ''...an'... I dunno how old I am w'ight now. Ah- ...I fink Imma... th'wee years old now, buh'... Ah... Imma used to be twenty-'un... Buh' I shwunk an' now Imma... th'wee-year-old todd-leh...'' ''It doesn't matter how old you are, Lay'', says Martini as he strikes my head a second time, ''what matters is whether you're a good kid or not. And you are. Yes you are~'' I giggle. ''S-So...'', I ask, ''...can I p'way wif' som'fing?'' ''Of course you can, little one'', answers Martini, ''can you walk?'' I get up onto all fours, and I go after Martini, who heads out of the changing room, and into the living room. This is the house he lives in, he tells me. ''Now let's get you cutie some toys to play with...'', he concludes. I'm not really in the mood for playing right now. I'm starting to get a little sleepy. I tell this to Martini. ''Oh... ~so you need some sleep you say, baby~?'', he asks. I nod. ''Well, let's get upstairs then, shall we?'', Martini concludes, ''I'll prepare a nice warm bed for you, and I will tuck you in, in a comfy, warm diaper''

THE END