***DISCLAIMER*** The people depicted in the following pictures / story are consenting adults over the age of 18. If you are NOT 18 or older, CLICK AWAY NOW!
Image Credit: This is NOT my image. All credit belongs to @akinkycouple
Images will be taken down on request.
Story contains: Wetting, humiliation, cuckquean.
“Lift up your skirt for us, hun.”
Samantha’s cheeks flushed at the humiliating order. She knew what was expected though, and meekly did as she was told.
Her Daddy flashed her a smile that made her heart flutter and turned to the woman standing beside him. “See?” He said, gesturing to Samantha. “I told you she wouldn’t try to take it off.”
The woman shook her shining almond hair and laughed. “I know, I know, but it never hurts to make sure. Babies do all kinds of silly things when they aren’t being watched.” She turned to look at Samantha. “Isn’t that right, Sam-Sam?”
Samantha shifted uncomfortably under the taller woman’s gaze and looked away. “Yes, Mommy…” She didn’t like when the other woman used her husband’s pet name for her. It was something special he’d given to her, and it filled her with fuzzy feelings of affection. Hearing it from the mouth of her Husband’s lover still felt wrong, even months later. It still gave her the fuzzy feelings though. Samantha didn’t know what to make of that.
She wasn’t even sure how she ended up like this, dressed in this humiliating toddler’s outfit. They’d dressed her up in what was probably one of the frilliest baby dresses in existence, with a skirt barely able to contain the massive bulk the cloudy white diaper underneath. Topping off the ensemble were the newest additions to her increasingly large collection of infantile accessories, a fat pink pacifier and baby pink bonnet, securely tied about her chin to prevent escape from that particular humiliation.
Samantha’s life had drastically changed when she and her husband had gone out drinking one night, back when she was allowed to do big girl things. One drink had led to another, culminating in a drunken stumble back home in the company of a brunette tigress. Samantha couldn’t remember how or why Mommy had ended up with them. The only thing she actually could remember about that night was crying in wet jeans over the other woman’s lap. Apparently, at least according to Mommy’s version of events, they’d all been about to do “adult stuff” in the bed together when Samantha lost control of her bladder like the overgrown toddler she was. She’d soaked half the bed and ruined one of Mommy’s favorite dresses with her accident. After teaching the sobbing girl a lesson in self-control at the flat of her hand, Mommy sent the chastened Samantha to stand in the corner and think about what she’d done while the adults were about their business. The memories of what came after that made her feel squirmy in a strange way. Wet slapping sounds and moans had filled her ears as Mommy and Daddy “played wrestle” behind her while she whimpered in the corner. Submissive by nature, Samantha had just stood there leaking into her soaked jeans while the more dominant woman enjoyed her Husband’s thick cock all night. They were content to leave her there, and when Samantha woke up the next morning, she was still in the corner with her wet jeans, and Mommy was in Samantha’s old bed, curled up in her husband’s arms.
After that, Mommy and Daddy had exchanged numbers with Samantha watching on in nervous silence. She probably could have said something then. But for reasons unknown to her, she hadn’t. Instead, Mommy and Daddy began seeing each other more and more frequently. Samantha’s position in their relationship diminished with every visit. Maybe it was because she was naturally a timid girl, or perhaps it was the dampness elicited by their treatment that kept her docile and quiet. On their next group date, Mommy had brought a bag of princess-styled pull-ups that she insisted Samantha wear “for her own good.” Shockingly, Samantha’s husband supported the demand. It wasn’t long after they started coercing her into call them Mommy and Daddy.
Sippy cups and bottles replaced her cups. Dramas and browsing on her phone were replaced by coloring books and bright cartoons. Bath salts and fragrances were replaced with bubble-bath and no-tear baby soaps. Martinis and steak dinners became fruit juice and chicken nuggets in the shape of animals. Pull-ups during dates became thick, humiliating adult diapers 24-7. Expensive silk lingerie and revealing thongs became wonderfully frilly dresses and soft infantile onesies. Sex with her husband became a degrading exercise in subservience. She always had to ask her new Mommy for permission, which usually resulted in copious laughter and a night of desperately humping the aptly named pillow “Mr. Squishy”. Even when she was allowed access to her husband’s body, she was so sensitive and excitable from the weeks of denial that she was a whimpering mess within minutes. Her lack of stamina and soft muscles were far cry from Mommy’s incredible stamina and toned body. And now Mommy was living with them, sleeping in the same spot Samantha had occupied in her Daddy’s bed while she herself had been relocated to the bright pink nursery Daddy had created in the old guest room.
Samantha let out a squeak as Daddy lifted her up.
“Dinner time, squirt.” he said cheerfully, throwing his infantilized wife over one strong shoulder.
“What are we eating?” Samantha asked softly, blushing as she caught Mommy smirking at her.
They entered the kitchen and Daddy lowered her into her high-chair. The chair was made of wood and painted an embarrassingly childish purple, with a clean white arm-tray to lock her in place when secured. The chair was easily big enough to hold her and then some, the extra size devilishly created to make her seem that much smaller to anyone who cared to look.
“Well, Mommy and I are having pizza.” He said, sliding her legs in and locking the hinged arm-tray to secure her. “And you,” he smiled, “are having yummy yummy veggie beef stew.” He picked up Samantha’s bib and brushed her long hair out of the way to fasten it behind her neck.
Samantha pulled a face. She wouldn’t have minded regular beef stew but the strained mash she was fed was far cry from the real thing. “Can’t I just have pizza, Daddy?”
“Don’t pout, Sam-Sam.” Daddy said. “Veggies are good for you. You can have some pizza after you eat those, kay?”
Samantha sniffled but reluctantly agreed. “Okay, Daddy…” At least she would get to eat some adult food tonight. Many of her meals now consisted of soft baby mush or cut up fruits and veggies. A lot of it actually tasted pretty decent, but she missed having the grown-up pleasure of chewing your own food.
His face brightened and he reached over to rub her hair. “Good girl!”
The brief contact made her eyes glaze over with bliss. Her diaper grew damp, and she unconsciously started rubbing against the fluffy mass between her legs.
“Careful, hun.” came Mommy’s voice, “Don’t get her too worked up. Just look how flushed the poor thing is.” The other woman’s lips pouted in mock sympathy, and she sauntered over to take the seat next to Samantha. “Why are you so blushy, princess? Do you have a fever?” Her Mommy smiled, pointedly glancing at Samantha’s gently rocking hips.
Samantha noticed what she was doing and stopped immediately. “N-no Mommy.” She sputtered out. Her face burned even brighter. Her libido was so out of control these days she was willing to degrade herself for the slightest hint of gratification. It wasn’t fair, Samantha thought. She was only in this situation because she’d gotten drunk and wet the bed one time, and this… woman had taken things far beyond the realm of reason. For a brief, defiant moment, she thought about tearing off her childish outfit and pointing it out to her self-proclaimed Mommy. It only took another milliseconds thought for that scenario to be thrown out with the bathwater. Defiance would only lead to another spanking and a lesson in her own subservience. A trickle of pee leaked out as the image of her bent over Mommy’s lap, futilely screaming and kicking, flashed through her thoughts.
With a final pat, her husband took his own seat across from his lover. He grabbed the glass of wine off the table and poured himself and Mommy each a generous glass. Smiling mischievously, he reached for the sippy-cup in front of Samantha and filled it with grape juice. Then he picked up the wine bottle again. “Look, Sam-Sam. You can be a big girl like Mommy.” Holding the cap in place to prevent any from actually splashing out, he tilted the bottle over as if was pouring it.
Mommy laughed at the joke, but Samantha merely sat there grumpily and took the sippy-cup as it was handed back.
“Okay, kiddo, nummy-time.” Samantha’s Mommy uncapped the jar of baby food and stuck a tiny, baby-blue spoon into it. They always used actual baby utensils when feeding her. Samantha hated it. The small size just made her meals take that much longer.
Samantha’s mouth operated on auto-pilot as the more dominant woman shoveled spoonful after spoonful of unappetizing mush between her waiting lips. Fighting it would only lead to another punishment later and it was better to get it out of the way as fast as possible. Sometimes the other woman would miss purposely and tut at Samantha for her clumsiness. As always, the end result was a painting of smears and stains on her face and bib. After what seemed like an hour, the jar was finally empty. Mommy patted her face clean with a napkin and grudgingly handed Samantha piece of pizza.
With the “baby” of the family taken care of, her Mommy and Daddy began to talk about work, different projects they were working on, hobbies, etc. Samantha struggled to keep up with the conversation as they ate. She didn’t know more than half of what they were talking about. Once in awhile one of them would flash her a grin or giggle, but they didn’t pay her much mind. The most attention she got during the meal was when her Mommy nonchalantly slipped a few fingers into the legband of Samantha’s diaper for a check. Like normal, she was more than a little wet, but the diaper was deemed satisfactory for another wetting or three before Samantha needed to be changed.
When the meal ended, her Mommy and Daddy pushed back their chairs and helped Samantha from her own confinement. Her Daddy lowered her to the floor and had her crawl after them as they walked to the living room. Samantha’s skirt rode up as she crawled to show the slightly yellowed padding of her diaper.
“What movie are we watching tonight?” Daddy asked, taking a seat on the couch.
Mommy sat next to him, snuggling up close and shooting Samantha a superior look. Mommy didn’t like when Samantha sat on the furniture, claiming it was just a leaky accident waiting to happen. Even sitting like an adult was now off-limits to the deposed wife. Samantha felt a pang of jealousy as she crawled to her own designated spot on the floor, a velvety soft nursery blanket decorated with letters from the alphabet and baby animals. Mr. Squishy and her stuffed animals were there too, of course.
“I was thinking something… racier? You know… to get us in the mood for later.” Mommy purred seductively, finger tracing the soft skin of Daddy’s neck.
Samantha bit her lip jealously and made an unhappy noise. Both at the helplessness she felt, and the fact that they weren’t going to be watching Beauty and The Beast like Daddy had promised. She was so far gone she didn’t pause to consider that the movie in question may be less important than her Husband’s blatant infidelity.
Samantha’s daddy leaned back and enjoyed the efforts of his lover’s attentions. “Mmm, sounds hot.” He murmured through lidded eyes.
“B-but Daddy,” Samantha whined. “I thought we were gonna watch Disney tonight?”
He lifted his head in remembrance and gently pushed Samantha’s mommy away. “Oh, that’s right! I forgot, sorry about that kiddo.”
The other woman’s lip curled with displeasure and Samantha felt a thrill of triumph at the small victory. That thrill turned to confusion, then to dismay a moment later as her husband stood up to retrieve Samantha’s tablet. It was always kept on the top of the book shelf now, too high to reach. Little girls shouldn’t have access to electronics and the internet unsupervised after all.
He squatted down to unlock the device and handed it to Samantha. “There, now you can watch your movie, and Mommy and I can watch ours.” He grinned and ruffled her hair before sitting back on the couch.
“What a great idea,” Mommy crooned gleefully. “What I had in mind wasn’t really appropriate for Soggy Sammy anyways. She probably wouldn’t know half of what was going on.”
Samantha lowered her head in defeat and watched as her already sodden diaper swelled just a bit more to accommodate the stream of pee elicited by the degrading remarks. Thoroughly demoralized, she laid on her stomach and started to watch. The opening music was just beginning to play when the “adult’s” movie started.
Mommy’s “racier movie” turned out to be a full-blown pornographic video.
Samantha knew what she was supposed to do. She was supposed to be the humiliated, beta-female in the house. The degraded wife, diapered and infantilized, expected to play out that role and watch her age-appropriate movie like the good submissive girl she was. So as the vulgar moans and grunts began emanating from the television, Samantha did her best to keep her eyes glued to the small screen in front of her. It wasn’t good enough.
Barely 10 minutes passed before the temptation overcame her submissiveness and she furtively peeked up at the big screen, hoping she wouldn’t be noticed. Samantha’s lips parted in a small O of shock when she saw the TV.
A handsome, well-built man’s ass gyrated violently as he repeatedly pistoned in and out of a groaning woman. She was bent over the side of their bed, held in place by her shiny black hair. The woman’s legs shook as what was probably her third or fourth orgasm trickled down her legs in a flood of arousal. The camera angle shifted and Samantha gasped silently. Another woman was in the room with the mating pair, looking on in futile jealousy. At the very barest glance, she might have been said to be dressed like a maid. Velvet white stockings with lacey trim and a black garter belt decorated her legs, with a matching pair of gloves over her small hands. She even wore the stereotypical headband seen on many westernized “French maid” costumes. The comparison ended though at the ridiculously short skirt and bared chest of her dress. Black sleeves with white lacy frills at the shoulders were all that comprised the front of the dress, leaving the woman’s breasts on clear display. A leather collar around her neck connected with chains running through metal rings in her nipples. The chains joined at the lower portion of her midrift before snaking down between her legs and back up to connect with a metal ring drilled into the wall. The short and raised hem of her skirt left her bare pussy on full display. Despite her clearly servile position, the woman being fucked was grinning widely at the bound woman. Tears rolled down the maid’s face as she tried to reach between her legs, foiled every time by a sturdy set of handcuffs positioned beneath the chain between her legs. Frustrated sobs and whines mixed in with the other noises in the room as she tried to relieve herself. The best she could manage in her situation was tugging on and rubbing her inflamed clit against the chain’s links. Evidence of her exertions glistened on the teasing metal.
“Look, dear. The baby’s watching,” came Mommy’s voice.
Samantha turned towards the noise and realized her Husband and his lover were both staring right at her, smirking. She squirmed under their attention, trying not to show how much she was enjoying the sensation of her soaked pampers squishing against her buzzing kitty.
“Do you like Mommy and Daddy’s movie, Sam-Sam?” Her Mommy cooed, running her fingers up and down the outline of her husband’s engorged member. The other woman turned back to Samantha’s husband. “Since soggy Sammy here likes the movie so much, how about we head to the bedroom so she can watch the rest without any… interruptions.”
Samantha’s pussy clenched as her husband responded by sweeping his lover up in his arms.
“Sounds good to me,” He chuckled.
“Enjoy the movie, sweet-pea.” Mommy gloated as she was carried away. “I’ll change you out of those pissy pampers later when I’m done with your Daddy.”
They walked off and closed the door, leaving Samantha alone. Heart pounding, brain on fire with a heady concoction of need and pure shame, Samantha immediately pulled Mr. Squishy between her legs and began to rock her hips against him. She’d probably be spanked later for not asking permission, but she didn’t care. Spankings were for naughty girls, and that’s exactly what she was. A naughty, pathetic little baby, humping her diapies while the adults fucked in front of her…
New, quieter moans quickly joined the ones playing on the TV. The erotic sounds mixed obscenely with the melodic noises of singing and cartoonish voices from Samantha’s tablet. She hugged her inanimate partner tightly and buried her burning face in the soft cushion. Her desperate humping quickly scented the air with a combination of her own urine and the sweet, gentle smell of baby powder. The smell only heightened her peaking arousal, and the humiliation she felt as she realized it sent a jolt through her aching cunt. Listening to the grunts and moaning of her Mommy and Daddy, pathetically rubbing up against her own piss and dressed like an overgrown toddler, Samantha knew deep in her submissive, infantilized brain, that she was exactly where she wanted. And it felt incredible.
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