diapered cuckold

me myself and I

[babycuckold]

Hi

Hello

[all4thedips]

There Goes the Neighborhood

Note: This story features consenting adult characters and is intended for a mature, 18+ audience only.

Aranvalle Community Center - 11:27 AM

I’d never seen a grown man shit himself before. Much less knowingly. Purposefully. And in public.

For the past half an hour, the young man in the green, t-rex hoodie had pushed peas and mashed potatoes around his plate, mounding them up only to smear them flat again. He’d repeated this mindless routine since we sat down, his eyes glassy and expression blank. Suddenly, his head jerked up. Eyes wide, but fixed on nothing in particular. Like he’d remembered he’d left the stove on. But now, he dropped his fork, his food forgotten. He braced his hands on the bench, his face turning the color of an overripe tomato. The tendons in his neck stretched taut, and his brow furrowed.

SQUELCCCCHH!

The color drained from his face. His shoulders sagged. He eased himself back down onto the bench. A smile played at the corners of his mouth when his loaded diaper connected with the seat. He picked up his fork and returned to playing with his food.

I swallowed. Then swallowed again. Vomiting all over the table wouldn’t improve the situation. Though if staff and patrons alike expected people to shit their pants in here, how much fuss could they cause over a bit of half-digested lunch?

As if he heard my thoughts, poopypants eyes connected with mine. I glanced down and poked at my half-eaten turkey wrap. He sat halfway down the long, cafeteria table, but I didn’t want to risk a conversation about the humid weather or the upcoming city council election or the load of crap he’d so loudly deposited in his diaper.

A moment later, the first tendrils of stink slithered through the background odors of pepperoni pizza, chicken pesto paninis, and minestrone soup that hung in the air. Like all rotten smells—a bag of trash left festering in the summer sun, a clump of dog shit smeared across your sneaker—the overpowering stench crawled down my nose, coiled in my throat. I could almost taste it.

The dining hall hummed along. Diners picked at salads. They talked about their weekend plans. They laughed about last night’s episode of must-see TV. No one got up and moved to escape the foul-diaper reek. No one ushered him away to be dealt with in private.

“Aren’t you hungry?” Elise didn’t look up from her phone when she asked. How many times could she reread the welcome email? “You hardly touched your lunch.”

“That guy over there shit himself,” I whispered. “Not exactly helping my appetite.”

“Really?” She looked up and scanned the room. “Who?” She sounded more intrigued than disgusted.

“Follow the stink.” I jerked my head in the the overgrown toddler’s direction. “Who’d do that? I mean, not just shit themselves, but in public?”

As we watched, a woman in a floral sundress came over and patted him on the back. She wrinkled her nose, but she didn’t stop smiling. He grinned up at her, nodded his head, and stood up.

“He doesn’t seem too bothered by it. Neither does she.”

“I’d rather die.”

She sighed. “Okay. Well, Maeva should be here any moment. If you want to finish your food, now’s the time.”

Three hours. No one said the tour would last that long. Not explicitly. I’d been on college tours a lifetime ago. Haunted site tours. Historical building tours. That stupid celebrity home tour with the obnoxious host when we visited SoCal a few years ago. Three hours. All of them. If you couldn’t squeeze more than three hours of entertainment out of seeing Nic Cage’s infinity pool, then a suburban neighborhood wouldn’t last half that long--even a suburban neighborhood built around a bizarre alternative lifestyle.

“Oh look, that must be her now,” Elise said. I’d pictured an uptight, middle-aged woman in an excessively modest dress. Graying hair in a tight bun. The stink of mothballs and moral judgment trailing behind her. The villain of a Dickens novel, basically. But this woman was maybe twenty-six or seven. She wore a plain white blouse, knee-length brown skirt with brass buttons up the side, and a pair of sandals with straps that snaked up her shapely calves. Her eyes glinted with excitement.

“I’m Maeva,” she said to Elise. “I’m thrilled to finally meet you.”

Elise grinned. “Right? Kind of feels like I already know you after all of the texts. And again, I so, so appreciate your patience with all of my questions.”

Maeva bent over and tucked a loose strand of dark hair behind her ear. “And you must be Mitchell. I’ve heard so much about you. You can call me Miss Maeva, sweetie.”

Elise smiled serenely.

“Nice to meet you, Maeva.”

“Miss Maeva,” she corrected, smile still plastered on her face.

“Right. Miss Maeva.” I plastered on my own bullshit smile, wide as I could manage. I glanced down at my watch. “We have some stuff going on later this afternoon, so can we…?”

Elise cleared her throat. “We talked about this on the way over, remember? Agreed we’d both clear our schedules?” She turned to Maeva. “No rush. We want to get the full experience.”

Maeva straightened up. “Absolutely. We’ll get started. We’re going to meet up with my boy later, by the way. He needed to finish his chores first. He neglected to weed whack when he mowed the lawn last week. Heather pointed the dandelions out to me this morning.”

“How frustrating, ”Elise said. “Sometimes you have to stay on top of them, or nothing gets done.”

“Excuse me?” She’d never mowed the lawn in her life.

“Or not done correctly, anyway,” Maeva said. She waved her hand dismissively. “But he’s a good boy most of the time.”

I felt like the two of them would whine about lawn work indefinitely if I let them. “Alright, then. Tour time?”

Maeva grinned and raised an eyebrow. “I love the enthusiasm. I gave a prospective couple a tour last week, and the boy pouted the entire time. I felt so bad for his wife, but needless to say, I couldn’t recommend them.”

“That’s awful,” Elise said. She shot me a sideways glance.

“I’m sure that won’t be a problem today,” Maeva said. “On to the little boy's room!”

“The little boys' room?”

“The restroom,” Maeva said.

“I know what it is, but I’m alright,” I said.

“Sweetie, I really think you’d feel better if we got you comfortable.”

“I’m fine. Perfectly comfortable. Went right before we left home. Not that it’s any of your concern.”

Maeva cocked her head and got a quizzical look. “No, silly. We need to get you in a diaper.”

I laughed. “Right.”

They stared at me.

I turned to Elise. “What is she talking about? I agreed to a tour. That’s it.”

Elise winced. “Well, I…”

“Well, you what, Elise?”

She shrugged.

“Are you kidding me? With as much as you’ve droned on about this place the last three months, you could have mentioned that detail, don’t you think?”

“All boys on Aranvalle premises wear diapers,” Maeva said. “There’s a one-hour grace period for mail carriers and what have you, but that’s the only allowance. And some of us would prefer to eliminate that loophole, too.”

“Well, then we’ll have to make the tour an hour then, won’t we? I mean, how much can there be to look at? If you’ve been to one suburban development, you’ve been to them all. No offense.”

Maeva’s strained smile settled into a frown. “Aranvalle isn’t just any development. It’s a community. And it’s important that you understand—that we all understand—if you’re a good fit.”

“Our financing is straightforward,” I said. “We’ll keep the lawn mowed and the trashcans stowed away. All the standard HOA crap.”

“It’s not about the money for us here. I thought our low home prices made that clear. We only want homeowners who embrace our lifestyle. Who want to be a part of something bigger. Active members of our vibrant community. At the end of our tour, I will go before the board and make a recommendation about your application.”

“I see,” I said. “And your recommendation about our…suitability—it carries a lot of weight?”

She beamed. “They haven’t gone against my recommendation yet.”

If Elise had told me that morning that I’d need to participate in this nonsense, I would have refused outright. Just like I’d refused to read the books she’d given me. Or the countless articles she’d forwarded. I’d tried one of the videos after she pestered me every day for a week. The presenter spoke slowly, smiled constantly, and made expansive gestures as she explained why men should embrace the diapered lifestyle. I suffered through five minutes of the drivel before jumping to the newest Defunctland ep. Indulging her obsession with this lunacy seemed like a bad idea. And yet, ignoring her overtures had gotten me nowhere. If anything, my reticence stoked her enthusiasm. But if I wasn’t the barrier—if we simply weren’t welcome here—that’d finally put all of this nonsense to rest. I could suck it up and wear a diaper for a couple of hours to never hear about Aranvalle again.

“Sure. If that’s the rule, then that’s the rule.”

Elise frowned at me. “Mitchell, you promised you’d explore this with an open mind.”

“Like I said, let’s get on with it.”

Maeva smiled. “Wonderful. Then off to the little boys' room we go.”

***

The ‘little boys room’ was a bathroom. Of sorts. It had sinks, but no toilets. Weirder still, no toilet stalls--just acres of pristine blue tile gleaming under bright fluorescent lights.

“Diaperboys don’t need privacy,” Maeva explained as we stepped into the room. Her voice echoed in the mostly empty space. “We see all your wet and stinky messes when we change you anyway.”

Instead of toilet stalls, a row of four changing tables lined the back wall, each with stacks of diapers, wipes, powder, and ointments behind them. Sweet-smelling baby powder, diaper rash ointment, and the faint odor of piss permeated the air. As we walked in, a woman stood with her back to us. Two knees poked out to either side of her. “Oh my,” she said to the man on the changing table, her tone syrupy sweet. “You left a big ‘ol mess for mommy today, huh?” A moment later, the dirty diaper stench smacked me across the face.

Elise and Maeva continued chatting, Maeva explaining excitedly all of the diaper changing amenities and Elise nodding along as if any of this would actually impact us. On the table, the woman blew raspberries on the guy’s stomach. He giggled.

I eyed the door. “Look. We really don’t need to do this. I get the idea.”

“Don’t be silly,” Maeva said. “Diaper changes will be a fundamental, daily part of your life at Aranvalle. I already explained that.”

“Right. But we’re not living here. We’re on a tour.”

“Not yet,” Maeva said. “But that’s why you’re here. To see if you’d like to become a part of our community, right?”

I glared at Elise. “Something like that. But, look. I won’t tell if you won’t. I mean, no one has to know that you stretched the rules a bit.”

“You don’t understand. This isn’t about me getting in trouble. You—”

Elise cut her off. “You agreed that you’d keep an open mind today, Mitchell. You promised me.”

“Yeah. This—” I gestured at the diaper change happening a few feet away “—is not keeping an open mind. This is fucking absurd.”

The woman at that table frowned over her shoulder at us.

Deal with it, lady.

Elise stepped closer. She squeezed my arm. “Please, babe. It’s only for a short while. Do it for me?” Her eyes searched mine for understanding. “If you still feel the same way at the end of the tour…” She shrugged.

“If I still feel the same way at the end of the tour, what?” I pressed.

“I’ll drop it.”

“All of this nonsense? Aranvalle. Diapers. This whole female-led relationship thing?”

She paused, bit her lip, then nodded.

“Fine,” I said. “But if word of this gets out to anyone we know…”

She shook her head vigorously. “Of course not.” She ran her finger across her lips, zipping them. “Our little secret.”

Maeva gestured to the changing table right next to the occupied one. That seemed like a breach of etiquette. Like pissing in the urinal next to another dude when ten others were open. But what did I know?

Maeva patted the top of the vinyl-topped table. “Up we go.”

I scooted up onto the table. If I squinted, I could almost imagine I was at the doctor’s office for my annual physical. Getting poked and prodded and asked about my diet felt like a more comfortable scenario in that moment.

“Go ahead and remove his pants, shoes, and underwear,” Maeva instructed Elise.

“I think I can handle…”

Both women glared at me. I raised my hands in surrender.

Elise stepped closer to the table. She reached out, then let her hand drop to her side. Nodded, as if mustering her resolve. Then nodded again. “Right.”

I wanted to remind her that she’d brought this on herself. That she’d brought this on both of us. If I could wear a frigging adult diaper, she could take my pants off without my reassurance.

She yanked off one sneaker. Then the other. She moved up to my pants, fumbling with the button on my jeans. She unzipped them and worked them down my legs. Her warm hand rested on my bare leg for a moment, her head inches from my crotch. A familiar position. Or at least it had been earlier in our marriage. She glanced up at me, blushed, then looked away again.

Then she reached my boxer briefs. Hesitated. Maeva stepped closer and pointed at my crotch. “See the stains? Here. And here. And here.” Her ruby red fingernail grazed the outside of my underwear each time.

Elise stood straight and sighed. “I’ve been doing his laundry long enough I can’t say I’m surprised.”

“Hey,” I said. “If the detergent sits on my clothes too long before you start the wash it discolors my clothes. I’ve told you that.”

“So it’s my fault?” Elise asked. “For cleaning your pee-stained laundry?”

“I told you, it’s not…” I prepared to double down, saw the expression on her face, and thought better of it.

“That’s still damp, there,” Maeva said. She shook her head. “You’d think with as much pee as they leave in their undies, there wouldn’t be so much on the bathroom floor and toilet seat.”

“Tell me about it,” Elise said. “He mostly uses the downstairs bathroom. I avoid it like a hazardous waste site.”

“A problem of the past, if you join our community,” Maeva said, a note of pride in her voice. “The bathroom is my domain in our household.”

Elise chuckled. “I could get used to that.”

“You’ll love it. All their messes stay in their pants where they belong until we’re ready to deal with them.”

“Where they belong?” I laughed. “I’ve been toilet trained since I was two years old.”

“Boys never fully potty train,” Maeva said. She pointed at my crotch. “Case in point.”

I felt a flush of heat in my cheeks. Maybe I dribbled a bit when I tucked my junk back in my pants. So what? I’d been in a hurry to get out the door. In a hurry to get to this stupid place. That had nothing to do with toilet training.

“Can you imagine walking around with urine stains in your panties?” Maeva continued. “I can’t. But for a boy, it’s normal. That’s why they all belong in diapers. No need to pretend at potty training or control or any of that. Just hand that duty over to a mature, responsible woman.”

Elise hooked her fingers into the waistband of my underwear on each side, then tugged them down. I awkwardly scooted one butt cheek up, then the other, until my underwear lay on the floor and my ass stuck to the cool vinyl. I instinctively covered my junk.

Maeva chuckled. “That’s totally unnecessary. I’ve seen plenty of penises. Yours is nothing special.”

The woman next to us tittered. “Boys. So concerned about their peepees, but no worries about someone seeing they’ve piddled in their pants.”

Maeva and Elise laughed with her.

“Like I said, I didn’t…I mean…I didn’t know I’d be sitting in my underwear in front of a stranger when I got up today.”

Maeva turned to Elise. “See? He’s not concerned that he pees himself, just that I might have seen it. Not a concern for his hygiene. Or for your comfort when you have to launder his dirty clothes.”

“Hey,” I said, “what the hell kind of tour guide are you? Aren’t you supposed to sell us on this place?”

“No need to be cwanky,” Maeva said. “This is all part of the experience. Go ahead and lie back, and we’ll get you all taken care of.” She placed a hand on my chest and gently pushed me back onto the table.

I slowly lowered myself down against the surface. My neighbor smiled contentedly up at what I could only assume was his wife as she dusted his junk with baby powder. I stared at the ceiling, trying not to think about what was going to come next. Or about how many nasty diapers had been changed on this same table.

“The women in Aranvalle carry diaper bags everywhere,” Maeva said. “They sell some really fashionable ones in the community store.”

“Oh, I’d love to stop in at the store,” Elise said.

“Of course. But in any case, sometimes you’re in a rush and forget to bring his diaper bag. Or you only packed two diapers, and your boy has three blowouts. For those situations, there are diapers available in all of the boys’ rooms for free.”

“This little super soaker managed to wet through his nighttime diaper and booster pad,” our neighbor said. “Leaked down into his Sketchers. I thought we’d just be out for a bit and left his bag at home. Live and learn.”

Maeva held a massive white diaper. She squeezed the plastic surface, and it crinkled. I’d never seen an adult diaper before. Not in person, at least. A few ads here and there. That one SNL sketch. I’d imagined something medical-looking. This resembled a baby diaper. But it seemed ridiculously thick, all out of proportion with its overall size. Like a caricature of a diaper.

“Uh, there’s no way that’s going to fit under my pants,” I said. “I don’t wear skinny jeans or anything, but come on.”

Maeva unfolded the diaper. “You want to flatten it out like this. That ensures the leak guards pop out.” She ran her finger down the interior, pointing out two strips of fabric on either side of the interior. “There’s one back here, too. It doesn’t totally eliminate blowouts, unfortunately, but it reduces them.” She handed the diaper to Elise.

Elise turned the diaper over in her hands. She ran a finger over the leak guard. “It’s softer than I imagined.”

“Hello,” I said, waving my hand. “Earth to Elise. Won’t fit.”

The stupid thing only grew larger and fluffier as Elise kneaded the plastic with her fingers.

“Alright, now slide the diaper under his bum,” Maeva said. “You shouldn’t have to wrangle him. Tell him what you want him to do at first. Eventually, he will learn to anticipate your expectations. Not just during changes, but in general.”

Elise made eye contact with me. Her expression was unreadable. “Scoot your butt up so I can slide this underneath you.”

“No need to beat around the bush. It’s not a ‘this,’ it’s his diaper,” Maeva said.

“This is ridiculous,” I said. “You badgered me into wearing one of these things, we aren’t doing a group changing session too.” I reached for the diaper.

Elise yanked it away, eyes going wide.

“Boys aren’t allowed to change their own diapers,” Maeva said. “Ever.”

“Come on,” I snapped. “It’s not rocket science.”

“And now is a good time to go over a couple of other rules.” Maeva held up a finger. “No asking for changes. Those happen when a woman sees you need one. Two. No taking your diaper off or fiddling with it. And definitely no sticking your hand down there to play with yourself.”

I sighed. “Sure, whatever. But again, we don’t live here, sooo...”

Maeva bent over me, reaching to the far side of the changing table.

“What are you…hey!”

She cinched a strap fabric tight against me, pinning my arms to my sides. I squirmed against it, trying to wiggle free.

“If you struggle enough, I’m sure you can get a hand free,” Maeva said. “But if you do, there are additional restraints I can get from the supply closet.” She pointed at a metal locker in the corner. “I don’t think either of us want that, do we?”

“Fucking ridiculous!” I spat.

“Sorry about this,” Elise said to the woman at the table next to us.

“Oh, it’s fine,” she replied. “Remember when you were like this?” she asked the man on the table. “Throwing your wittle temper tantrums?”

He nodded slightly.

“What did Miss Veronica’s boy tell you after that time I paddled your bum in the Kroger’s parking lot, hmmm?”

He turned to face me, his flushed face close enough to mine I could smell coffee on his breath. Closer than I ever wanted to be to another dude—especially one getting his diaper changed. “She said I should expect to spend the rest of my life in diapers. The sooner I got used to that, the happier Mommy and I would be.” The corners of his mouth turned up slightly.

I rolled my eyes and turned to face the ceiling again. “That’s great. So happy for the two of you.”

“It’s alright, sweetie,” his ‘mommy’ said. “Some boys take time to embrace their place in the world. I’m glad you found yours.” She blew another raspberry, and he burst into a fit of giggles.

Maeva smacked my left hip lightly.

“Ow!”

“Lift up.”

“Or, you know, you could ask?”

Maeva turned to Elise. “I find that nonverbal signals work best to convey what you need. Once you work out a system, most changes will go quickly and smoothly.”

“Except when you want to take some more time,” the woman at the table next to us said. “Sometimes, my boy needs a bit of extra attention. A slow, sensual cleaning of all his little bits. It’s an unparalleled bonding experience.”

“Really?” Elise said.

“Oh, absolutely. He knows he’s dependent on me for his most basic needs, and we both cherish that.”

I snorted, not caring who thought I was rude at this point.

“Alright, now slide the diaper underneath him and try to line it up,” Maeva said. “It’ll take practice. Have you changed a diaper before?”

Elise nodded. “I babysit my niece a couple of times a month.”

“Great. This is the same idea. Bigger diapers. Bigger messes. But the principle is the same. You want a tight fit, but not too tight. That and making sure it’s symmetrical will help avoid leaks. And he’ll look cuter, too.”

Elise tapped my side. I sighed and lifted myself off the table, my bare ass hovering in the cool air.

Elise tapped my waist again. I lowered myself back down and sank into the warm, soft fluff of the diaper.

“See, you’re already getting the hang of it,” Maeva said, beaming, at Elise.

“Yeah, doesn’t seem so hard.”

“Speaking of hard,” Maeva chuckled, “one other variable you need to deal with is that lil’ guy. You want to make sure his peepee is tucked down in the diaper. Not pointing up. Don’t want him peeing on his shirt, do we?”

I felt a laugh coming. I tried to clamp my mouth closed. Tried to shove it back down my throat. But laughter exploded out of me.

Elise frowned. “What?”

I shook my head, feeling my face flushed with the stifled laughter.

“He doesn’t think he will actually use the diaper,” Maeva said. “He thinks he will play along and then leave before that’s ever a necessity. Right?”

I shrugged. At least as much of a shrug as I could do strapped down to the table.

Maeva leaned over the table, her face inches from mine. “But he should know I’ve never seen a boy hold out that long.” Her eyes searched mine for a moment, then she shrugged and straightened up again. “Let’s wrap this up, hhhmm?”

Elise stood at the end of the table. “Feet on the table. Knees spread wide.”

“Knees spread—”

She gripped my knees and spread my legs.

“Good,” Maeva said.

Elise gripped the front of the diaper and pulled it tight, up, and over my junk. She pressed her knuckles into my belly button, then smoothed first one side of the diaper against me, then the other.

“That’s what you’re going for,” Maeva said. “Tight and symmetrical. But make sure you leave a bit of room in the seat.” She locked eyes with me. “So he has plenty of room for a big poopy if he needs to make one.”

I met her smug smirk with a placid smile. No way was I going to let her get in my head.

“Dust him with powder before you tape,” Maeva said. “That’ll help prevent diaper rash and keep him smelling sweetly. At least as sweetly as a boy who sits in their own pee all day can smell.”

Elise pulled out the tapes, each cracking loudly, then put them in place. With each one, the diaper grew tighter, hugging my butt and cupping my balls in a cloud of fluff.

Maeva clapped her hands. “Perfect. You’re a natural.”

Elise smiled.

“Adorable, isn’t he?” Maeva asked. “Diapers really fill out the butt, nicely, too. You just need to forget about the stinky messes that butt will be leaving for you to clean up.” Maeva popped the straps. “Okay, up you go.”

I sat up and shook my arms to start getting rid of the pins and needles, then swung my legs off the table. The diaper ballooned out in every direction, a bulbous absurdity that erased all but the faintest outline of my junk. The waistband reached all the way to my belly button. It felt like sitting on an overstuffed pillow.

“How does that feel? Are you comfortable? Is the top too tight?” Elise asked.

“Pants.”

“I’m afraid not,” Maeva said. “Boys in Aranvalle aren’t allowed pants in public. We like to see when you’re soggy or stinky enough for a change.”

“Pants,” I repeated.

“Hon,” Elise said. She glanced at Maeva, who stood with arms crossed, and winced. “It sounds like they have a pretty clear rule about this.”

I snatched the pants up myself. “I don’t care what you people do. We don’t live here. This is me meeting you in the middle. No, this is me meeting you way the hell past the middle, Elise.”

Maeva stared me down, her eyes locked on mine. Finally, I turned away to focus on pulling up my pants.

“I’d like to add a stop that wasn’t on the tour plan I provided you,” Maeva said. “Someone who can help with attitude adjustments.”

Read the entire 22,000-word story on Ream!

[stinky-in-pinky]

Honey I'm Home

Some men hate being bombarded by their wife as soon as they walk through the door. Asked to help with the laundry, help clean, or for something that needs fixing. But I think they would take that any day over what Toby has to endure.

“Hi, honeyyy!” Laura calls as he walks in. She doesn’t even give him a hug, just holds out her hand for him to kiss as if she were a princess.

“How was your day?” She asks after he plants his lips over her perfectly manicured nails. She doesn’t even wait for an answer, though. lnstead, she just snaps her fingers and points to the floor. “Pants down. Let's check and see how your diaper held up at work!”

Toby sighs begrudgingly but knows to obey. He doesn’t want his day to get any worse by having to go to bed early with a blistering red bottom. He clasps his belt and buttons, dropping his pants to the floor. He lifts his shirt and covers his face in shame as he exposes the big baby diaper.

“Hmm…I see the tapes are still in tact, so that's good!” Laura says, leaning in for a closer inspection. “It means you weren’t trying to be a naughty boy trying to take your diaper off again without permission! I bet you were rather productive without all those frequent bathroom breaks!”

Toby twinged. She was right. He hadn’t had to leave his desk all day. He wondered if his coworkers noticed, or did they notice the loud crinkling every time he shifted in his chair?

“Hmm…pretty plump.” She said, gripping his sodden crotch. “Do I need to start coming in on your lunch break to change your diaper? Or should I get your cute little secretary to do it?”

She laughed to herself. At this point, Toby had no idea if she was joking anymore. He wouldn’t be surprised if she did get Stephanie to change his diapers. The thought actually gave him a tingling downstairs.

“Let's check for stickies,” Laura said, poking a finger into the front of his diaper so she could peer inside. “Hmm…some leakage, but nothing too drastic. I bet it's hard to have cum cums in that itty bitty cage, isn’t it?!”

She knew damn well it was. Ever since she had him fitted for it, she’d been teasing him nonstop. The best day he’d had in a while was when she rewarded him for working overtime by attaching her Hitachi to a teddy bear and letting him hump it. Apparently her friends thought that video was hilarious.

“Do you need to make poo poo's?” She asked as seriously as she could in her Mommy voice. “I know your after-work ritual was to sit on the potty for damn near an hour after you got home. But now you can just squat right here in the living room and make a pushy while Mommy keeps an eye on you. Isn’t that wonderful??”

Toby didn’t say anything, just grumbled as he dropped down on his haunches. It used to be one of the most relaxing parts of his day: getting to go into the bathroom, shut the door away from everyone, and do his business in private.

Now, he had to squat in front of his smiling wife, who would give patronizing encouragement while he defecated all over himself. Sometimes she even filmed it if he made a particularly scrunchy face.

“All done?” She asked after Toby voided his bowels in a matter of seconds.

“Yes Mommy…” Toby nodded with a purple face. He stood back up, feeling the warm filth droop and spread.

“Stinky boy!” She giggled, pinching her nose and his still flushed cheeks, “You must be hungry. Let me go get you a bottle!”

It used to be she would bring him a bottle of beer. Now? It was an actual baby bottle full of some sort of formula that was tasting weirder and weirder by the day.

“Let’s get you changed out of those big boy clothes and into something more appropriate.” She said after placing the nipple into his mouth. Once she was satisfied he was suckling properly and guzzling down the pearlish mixture, she let him hold the bottle on his own. “You’re gonna wear the new tutu i got you!" she explained, "Calvin says he wants to see you dance around like a pwetty pampered pwincess! Come along, cucky!”

And so she dragged him to his new room. The nursery that she made him build. Had he have just come home from work that day he might not be in this mess. He probably wouldn’t have met that girl at happy hour, had a few too many drinks, and made some really poor decisions. Laura was understanding though, she knew she could fix any man, even if it meant treating them like the wittle baby they are.

[destinedfordiapers]

Sunshine of Your Love

“Wake up, honey.”

The sudden, unexpected voice jolts you awake.

“Have you always been hard to wake up?”

You had barely recovered from the shock of being woken up by someone in your room when you realized Sarah was sitting on your bed.

In her bra and panties.

The woman you’ve had a secret crush on ever since she moved in with your roommate.

“You’re lucky I woke you when I did, sweetie. Any longer and that diaper might have burst!”

The casual, matter-of-fact way she mentioned your diaper, no different than an off-hand remark about the weather, momentarily stunned your groggy brain.

Until you remembered that nobody—least of all her—was supposed to know about your diapers.

It was only then that you realized your blankets were at your feet, leaving your drenched diaper on full display.

And you wishing you wore a shirt to bed.

“Relax, honey. It’s just me,” she chortled as you desperately tried to cover yourself.

“I…I can explain!”

“What’s there to explain, silly? Your bed is dry, and your diaper is wet. Seems pretty obvious why you’re diapered.”

The fear of your diapers being discovered always made you believe you’d be relentlessly teased, mocked, and shunned.

Yet she didn’t seem the least bit repulsed by your bulging diaper. If anything she was acting like they were perfectly…normal.

“Don’t worry, baby. Your secret is safe with us!”

“U-us?” you whimper.

“Yes, silly. Who do you think pays the internet bill? Ryan sees all the adorable diaper websites you visit.”

The blood drains from your face.

“Awww, baby! Look at me. You have nothing to be ashamed of, okay? To be honest, your diapers make so much sense!”

“Th-they do?”

By now you’re thoroughly confused. This is nothing like how you expected the exposure of your darkest secret to go.

“Yes, hun. I thought you were handsome when I met you. But something about you made me feel maternal—not attracted. Like you were fragile and all I wanted to do was protect you from the big, scary world. I couldn’t explain it.”

She pats your diaper.

“But now it all makes sense! You are too fragile for the world! You’re not a man; you’re a baby in a trenchcoat pretending to be a man. Well, you don’t have to pretend anymore.”

“I…I’m not pretending! It’s just…just…”

“What did I just say, hmm? I see the real you. The baby boy that’s dying to be acknowledged and nurtured. Let go, baby. You’re safe.”

Her words linger in the air. Every part of you wanting to believe her. Yet, you hesitate.

She senses the battle raging inside you. The tug-of-war between your heart and brain.

“It’s hard to let go, isn’t it? You’ve spent your whole life denying who you are. Building up the adult façade, convincing yourself that’s who you really are. But don’t you see? It’s all a lie! A prison cell you sent your authentic self to rot!”

Your first instinct is to argue—how can she say the entirety of your adult life is a lie? She may find it easy to casually dismiss your adulthood, but not you.

But once again, your mouth doesn’t open. Somewhere in the back of your mind, a voice grows in strength, making it harder to deny the truth in her words.

“I can see it in your eyes, honey. You know I’m right. Don’t let the lies win. Just admit it. Tell me who you really are.”

You shake your head, unable to say the words.

“I…I can’t! People w-would..I have…”

She sighs but regains her composure quickly. “Well, if you truly believe you’re an adult, then prove it.”

She edges closer to you, biting her lip, her cleavage directly in your line of sight.

“Rip that diaper off and fuck me like a man.”

Your eyes linger on her body, taking in every curve.

“B-but…what about Ryan?” you ask, hating that you brought him up.

“What about him?” she purrs, straddling your body. “Take off your diaper. I’ve seen the way you look at me. Now’s your chance, big boy.”

Despite being so close to her, feeling her body on yours, the voice grows louder than ever before.

Resisting.

“See?” she exclaimed, beaming, “You only thought you wanted me because that’s what men are supposed to want. But deep down, you knew it was a lie. Just like being a big boy, baby. Don’t you get it?’

The voice is impossible to ignore now.

“I…I’m scared…”

She pulls you into her, resting your head on her chest. Somehow you instinctively knew there was nothing sexual about it.

It was something entirely different.

“I know, baby. You still have all those icky adult worries rattling around that head of yours. Making you think you should keep pretending to be a big boy. But you’re not a big boy, are you?”

Her hand slowly pulls down her bra, letting her nipple rest an inch from your lips.

She guides your head towards it.

“Are you, baby?”

Her nipple slides past your lips, tickling your tongue.

You look up at her, her eyes meeting yours.

She nods, rubbing your back.

You latch on and suckle.

Nothing is said for the next ten minutes. Or maybe an hour. You lost all track of time.

Lost in the moment. Lost in her.

The door slowly creeks open as Ryan peeks his head in. Sarah waves him in, smiling from ear to ear.

Sarah rubs your back and kisses your forehead before gently nudging your head. “You can go back to suckling in a minute, baby. Ryan and I need to ask you something.”

You look up at her confused. “Ryan?”

“Hey, buddy,” he whispers, sitting next to you on the bed.

His sudden appearance in such an intimate position—with his girlfriend no less—causes you to try to pull away from Sarah.

“It’s okay, baby. Ryan isn’t upset—quite the opposite.”

Ryan pats your diaper playfully. “She’s right, buddy! I couldn’t have been happier to see you feeding so adorably. It means you accepted who you are. And, maybe, if you want…”

He looks at Sarah who nods in agreement.

“Baby, what he’s—what we’re trying to say—is we care about you. We want nothing more than to see you embrace who you really are. No more pretending to be a big boy.”

You look at both of them, wondering why they’re both suddenly so tentative.

“Buddy, if you want…we’d love to be your Mommy and Daddy.”

The voice in your head screams in pure joy.

“R-really? You wanna b-be my Mommy?” You look at Sarah, who’s teary eyed. “A-and my Daddy?” You look to Ryan, who winks.

“Yes, honeybear. If you want that, of course!” Mommy coos.

“I…I…but, but what about—”

Sarah puts a finger to your lips. “No, little one. No more buts, no more concerns. Leave everything to Mommy and Daddy. All you have to do is say yes, baby.”

You could barely contain your happiness. “O-okay, Mommy! I want you to be my Mommy and Daddy, please!”

Mommy and Daddy immediately wrap their new baby boy in a hug, a moment of pure joy and affirmation.

Everything you ever wanted, but could never admit.

“But before you say yes, baby, just know that we expect you to fully live your authentic baby life. That means you’re leaving every part of your adult life behind. You will be our baby—and only our baby. That means diapers, nap times, babas, binkies, and bedtimes, okay?”

Ryan nods in agreement. “We will take care of everything, baby. No more bills, no more rent, no more no more job. We’ve talked long and hard about this. We can afford a baby. So your only job is to listen to Mommy and Daddy like a good boy. Does that sound like something you want?”

Both of them seemed so confident, so sure they want you to be their baby, there was no more hesitation.

“Yes, Daddy! Yes, Mommy! I wanna be your baby!”

Your moment of ecstasy was short lived, however.

“I think the baby needs a diaper change, babe. Poor thing is leaking everywhere. Why don’t you do the honors?”

Mommy tickles your tummy. “Does Mommy have a leaky boy? Yes, she does. Come on tinkle pants, let’s get you clean. We have a big day ahead of us.”

“W-we do, Mommy?”

“Yes silly boy! This room is no place for our little one! We gotta get your nursery set up, buy diapers for our lil stinker, and donate all these big boy clothes! But in the mean time, where are your diapers kiddo?”

You point to the closet.

Mommy opens it up and inspects your hidden stash.

“Oh my gosh, babe! Look at this onesie!!! Ahhh, and the binky!”

Daddy looks at you seriously. “Buddy, you’ve been hiding all these adorable things from us? Naughty baby!”

Mommy grabs a new diaper, wipes, powder, a onesie, and your binky.

“C’mon baby, let’s go start our new life as a family!”

You never waddled as fast in your life.

[adultbabystories]

You can’t hold it anymore, you just can’t, no matter how much you try. Ever since daddy forced you into his special diaper training, you found yourself in desperate need of diapers. Sometimes you feel it coming, sometimes you don’t. And you don’t want to wet yourself in public, do you?

When daddy told you about his new special training you laughed and thought it would never work. You, a grown-ass man, will need diapers just because you wear them and listen to weird mp3 files? You thought it was a funny game, but who’s laughing now?

Every week you noticed it was harder to hold it. Until one day while watching TV, you felt your diaper getting warmer. That was the moment you knew something was wrong. You asked daddy to stop your training, but he said it was done. If that happened, you’ll be incontinent pretty soon. Oh boy, he was right. These days you check your diaper before you leave the house, making sure you won’t be needing a change soon. If so, you’ll ask daddy for a change before you leave. Having a diaper bulge is embarrassing enough, but leaking in public? It will surely make you cry like the baby daddy knows you are. 

——————————————————–

These days @bilbng86 can’t leave his house without a fresh diaper. Who’s laughing now?

[destinedfordiapers]

I Melt With You

My babysitter doesn’t show the slightest hint of surprise as I grunt and push a load into my diaper. She smiles like she saw it coming a mile away.

Want to know the worst part of this whole situation? It’s probably not what you think.

Because it’s not the fact that I’m wearing a diaper. Or even that I’m pooping my diaper in front of her.

It’s not the fact that I have a babysitter waiting to change my diaper.

It’s not even the fact that I’m pooping my diaper in the middle of public while I eat an ice cream cone.

No, it’s how stupidly normalized this all is.

I mean, look at the amused way she’s smiling at my grunts and toots, as if I were an actual toddler she was babysitting.

It’s the look of someone who absolutely expects me to helplessly fill my diaper. Like it’s as natural as the warm summer sun melting our ice cream.

“Why are you fighting it, cutie? Just relax and enjoy your ice cream before it melts. I’ll change you when we’re finished eating.”

See what I mean?

In her eyes, I am literally just a baby in bigger diapers—she doesn’t consider me an adult at all. Not to be mean or dismissive, but because it would be ridiculous for her to think otherwise.

It’s why she can’t even conceive that I could possibly be embarrassed about pooping my diaper right here in public, because that’s just what babies do.

Just like she won’t think anything of marching me to the bathroom to change my diaper right there on the bathroom floor.

Babies fill their diapers, and babysitters change them. It’s just what needs to be done.

No matter how many times it happens, it never gets any easier for me. I’m tired of the silly waves I get from women in the bathroom while I’m getting pooped wiped off my butt. Tired of being so casually dismissed by adults my age—and younger.

I’m tired of everyone treating me like I’m a baby.

“Honey, you’re getting ice cream everywhere but your mouth.”

I know she’s right. I feel the melted ice cream trickling between my fingers. And on my cheeks from eating as fast as I can.

With a giggle, she leans over and wipes my cheeks clean like I couldn’t do it myself.

“There, much better. Such a messy eater.”

I’m sitting here in a poopy diaper and she’s worried about the ice cream on my cheeks.

“Did you get all the poopoo out?” she inquires loudly, not even considering it to be an embarrassing question, “You’re not doing the poopoo dance anymore.”

I nod my head, but another bubbly toot betrays me.

All it earns me is a skeptical stare and a shrug. “Are you sure about that, mister?”

I hate being talked down to like a baby. Every single time.

It doesn’t matter what I do or say—she’s fully convinced that it’s what I need.

“Well, let’s go get that diaper changed, honey,” she says with an air of finality. Before we leave the table, she grabs some wet wipes from my diaper bag and cleans my fingers.

“Can we change at home, please?”

“Buddy, we’re 15 minutes away from home and there’s a perfectly good bathroom right here.”

I didn’t expect any other answer, but at least I tried. I let her take my hand and lead me to the bathroom.

“Hey girl! I thought you were babysitting today?”

A group of three girls close in on my babysitter, each more beautiful than the other.

“Oh, I am! He’s been so good all morning I thought he deserved a treat. It’s too nice out to be inside all day.”

They all look around confused for whoever she’s babysitting, obviously assuming it’s not me. I know it’s a Pyrrhic victory, though.

“Ummm…you could’ve just said you had a date, Liv. He’s cute.”

As much as I want to enjoy the compliment—and relish in the brief moment when people look at me as an adult—I know it’s borrowed time.

“He certainly is a cutie pie! But I don’t think he’s ready for dating quite yet! This lil’ stinker needs a diaper change.”

All three women stare at me in utter disbelief.

Exactly what I expected.

I’ve seen this same look countless times. The moment when they demote me from an adult to baby in their minds.

My babysitter just smiles. “I’ll call and explain after I put him down for his afternoon nap, okay? His Mommy will never forgive me if he gets a diaper rash.”

They give me that same infantile wave as my babysitter leads me to the bathroom to change my diaper.

As she places the changing mat down and slides off my shorts, I let out a silent prayer that nobody walks in on my diaper change.

[babypudge]

"Whats the problem, sport?"

"Don't act like you don't know - it's already Halloween and you still haven't taken me to get a new costume, and I'm NOT wearing the pink kitty-cat one you tricked me into last year - especially after the "temporary" marker you used for my whiskers didn't wash off for a whole week." 😾

"Two steps ahead of you, puffy-pants - I ordered your costume weeks ago, it's ready and waiting!" 😁

"Oh no, what did you do this time?" 😨

"C'mon, give me a little credit, champ. If you look around the nursery, I think you can probably guess what your costume is - a certain famous mouse, the big cheese, M.M. for short. Does that sound okay, bud?" 😇

"Yup! Say no more, I think I can guess who it is!" 😉

"Good, lets get you suited up a little early and see if anyone is already handing out candy, the sun's going down at 6pm now, so I'm gonna move your bedtime up an hour until springtime and I don't want it to cut into my... uhhh, your candy haul..." 😈

"There you go, my little mouseketeer - don't you look adorable! Here, I'll hold your plastic pumpkin and you can hold the diaper bag, it goes with your outfit much better than mine!" 😘💝

[diapergirl-23]

My name is Claudia and I was starving for a REAL man! Joey and I have been married for almost 10 years, and I had recently taken charge of our dwindling sex life. I tried lots of different ideas and discovered my love of dominating him, especially dressing him up as a sissy baby and keeping him in diapers. He acted more and more babyish over time and became dependent on me, which began to wear on me. This made me more aware of my hunger for a real man! Joey was a small and delicate man, sensitive and creative, which I found refreshing in college, but I needed more. This led to an affair with Steve, a man I met at work. He was the opposite of Joey - tall, athletic, strong, etc. But Joey's clinginess made it nearly impossible to get privacy with Steve, so I took Joey to a nearby city for a "romantic getaway" with a "surprise." Before dinner, I dressed up in my sexiest lingerie and pranced around our hotel suite, driving him crazy. Then I diapered him, got us both dressed, and we headed out to dinner. I teased him all through the meal. I used to hate the confused looks we would get when people saw that I was obviously out of Joey's league. But I grew to enjoy it. When we returned, I changed him and put him in plain pajamas. I know he wanted me to dress him in sissy pjs, but I decided not to. I took off my dress and slipped on a black kimono over my lingerie. He was sitting on the couch and I stood over him in a dominant stance. "Are you ready for your surprise?" I asked. He nodded. Then there was a knock at the door. I went to the door and welcomed my first guest: Gina, a hotel maid I had hired for a fun night. A friend had told me about Gina and given me her number. She was tall and thin, but had a commanding presence. Her hotel maid uniform, hair and makeup were flawless. Her movements were graceful and athletic. There was no doubt she could control Joey. I whispered a few things to her, and without hesitation, she walked over to the couch and immediately began role playing with "baby Joey." She checked his diaper, which was already wet, then put him over her knee and spanked him (with the provided paddle) while I went to primp a little more. I dabbed a bit of my favorite perfume and touched up my lipstick. Then there was another knock at the door. Steve! I opened the door and immediately began to kiss him voraciously. This was our night! I calmed myself, closed the door, and began to fix us drinks. Joey saw Steve and began to speak, but Gina pushed a pacifier into Joey's mouth and increased the intensity of the spanking, making Joey cry out. "Quiet, baby. Mommy is busy with her lover," Gina cooed. I said, "Would you like a drink, Gina?" She paused and held the paddle still. "Yes, an Old Fashioned, please" she answered, resuming the spanking. "Oh, and I almost forgot the baby's drink!" I said. I carried Gina's drink and a baby bottle of warm milk over to her. She laid the paddle down, took a sip of her drink, then picked up the bottle. "Here we are baby. Settle down now. Auntie Gina has a bottle for you." She removed his paci and put the nipple of the bottle to his lips. "C'mon baby, open up," she said sweetly. Joey could see Steve and I pressing our bodies together, Steve exploring my body with his hands. I pushed Steve down to his knees and encouraged further exploration. Joey began to make sounds of distress, attempting to pull away from Gina. But Gina was having none of it, picking up the paddle threateningly and pressing the bottle firmly in his mouth, preventing speech. Joey went silent and still, but watched Steve and I. Gina laid the paddle on the coffee table and felt the front of Joey's diaper, breaking into a devilish grin. "Oh! Baby likes this, hmmm?!" Steve and I finished our drinks and moved haltingly toward the bedroom, stopping to kiss or touch. As we moved out of Joey's sight, I could tell he had acquiesced to his infantile role and Gina's rule. All I could hear from the couch was the sound of sucking and swallowing, with baby-talk from Gina interspersed. I soon forgot about baby Joey.

[destinedfordiapers]

Dog Days Are Over

“Awww, you’re being such a silly goose! Just latch on like a good baby. Oh my gosh, honey…who cares if he’s watching! I know it’s our special thing, but these things are killing me.”

“Don’t be ridiculous! How is eating your numnums more embarrassing than sitting in nothing but a poopy diaper, hmm? You literally just went poopoo right in front of us! But suckling on boobies is too embarrassing?”

“Well, I hate to break it to you, baby, but this is how you eat now. You couldn’t even eat solid food if you tried. It’s booby milk for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.”

“Then why are you being so dramatic? Oh stop, how is he ‘taking your place?’ He’s not a baby like you. He’s a real man. He’s not competing for a spot on the changing table, silly baby.”

“Well, what do you mean, hmm? Hahahaha, baby, no, just…no. You don’t get any say in what I do. Not when you rely on me to change your diapers and feed you. You’re wholly and completely reliant on me for everything.”

“It was my decision to send you to the Little’s Program™️, yes. What’s your point?”

“Wanted this? Baby, I didn’t want you to bet our entire savings on a football game. I didn’t want you to get arrested trying to find a hooker in Vegas. I didn’t want you to call the judge ‘pussy ass bitch.’ All I wanted was you to be a responsible adult.”

“Yes, that’s right. I wanted you to be an adult, but you proved you were nothing but a petulant child—you’d never be a real adult. Taking care of your icky pampers and feeding you is much easier than before.”

“Awww, can you not say all the naughty words you wanna say so bad? Good! Babies should never use those words! Now, are you done throwing a tantrum?”

“Still going, huh? Well, get all your fussies out, baby. But you’ll be nursing soon enough. And when you get all the milkies, I’ll change that poopy diaper and you’ll go down for a nap while he gets to do what you’ll never do again. Did that get your baby peeper all excited? How cute!”

“There you go, baby. See, isn’t it better when you stop pretending you’re still a man? Won’t you feel better with a belly full of milkies? I know baby, I know. Just like that, baby. You just suckle. It’ll be so much easier for me on top of him when you’re done.”

[dipsandlife]

Diaper Punishment, Diaper Discipline & Diaper Training: A Short History (2/3)

For more than two thousand years, various forms of diapers have been used on infants with the sole purpose of catching urine and feces excreted in an uncontrolled manner. Up to the 19th century, diapers were barely comparable to the well-known modern versions and were rather made provisionally from wool or linen yarn instead. In the 19th century, the terry towelling diapers appeared, which were later often combined with rubber pants to increase their effectiveness. The first disposable diapers came up after World War II, and due to the convenience they offered for busy parents they displaced cloth diapers more and more in the following decades.

However, in each generation, mothers and fathers, wifes and husbands, girlfriends and boyfriends existed who were able to see the potential of diapers far beyond their practical function. Those few discovered their usefulness for educational purposes and learned to appreciate their correctional influences on the behavior of young adults and partners.

This post is part of a series of illustrated articles intended to show the evolution of diaper punishment into diaper discipline and, eventually, diaper training.

Part 2: 1990 - 2010

In the early 1990s, disposable diapers were used more often than cloth diapers due to the convenience they offered for caregivers, which easily compensated for the slightly higher costs. The reduced workload also offered new opportunities: Since diapers had proven to be a very effective tool for treating any kind of misbehavior in young adults, why not making them a long-term arrangement? Since changing diapers became a matter of seconds to minutes with no additional work included, why not letting them become an integral part of someones wardrobe if they had such an positive effect on the behavior? Diaper Discipline was born, and soon a variety of concepts evolved differing in intensity, duration and overall goal, diffusing through society in private households and in form of official diaper disciplining facilities. In private households utilizing this form of discipline, diapers usually replaced every other form of underwear (and the toilet, of course!) for a set amount of time (ranging from months to decades), and were commonly combined with other rules, e.g. bedtimes and household chores. Punishments were not only given for general misbehavior, but also for misdemeanor with respect to diapers, for instance taking them off without allowance or toilet usage. The diaper discipline facilites were established as a consequence of an increasing demand by caregivers who were, for various reasons, not able to provide a proper way of diaper discipline for their partners / young adults. The programs carried out in those facilities were very strict and led to diaper dependency within a few weeks / months in many cases, but the reported increase in behavior justified the strict and consequent approach.

Figure 1. With an anxious look on her face, this young woman observes a nurse pulling the straps attached to her straightjacket tightly between her legs shortly after her arrival at a diaper discipline facility. The combination of straightjacket/straps, disposable diaper and plastic pants made sure that diapers stayed on and were used for their intended purpose without undesired leaks, but still enabled nurses to easily check the diapers condition. The smile on the nurses face reveals how much pleasure and delight she apparently finds in forcing a young woman to make her first and inevitable steps towards diaper dependency (ca. 1999).

Figure 2. A bed prepared for a new patient at the St. Brutus Correctional Facility, which became famous in later years as one of the strictest existing diaper discipline facilities. The facility looked in particular after young woman new to diaper discpline which had repeatedly trouble to keep their diapers on. The overall concept was pretty simple and basically aimed for achieving incontinence of their clients as soon as possible, since it proved to be the most effective solution to the problem. Using a combination of catheters, laxatives, absorbent diapers, plastic pants and various forms of fixation, this goal was usually achieved irreversibly within a few weeks (ca. 1995).

Figure 3. A young woman in her sleeper receiving an enema, which was a common procedure in private households to help them overcome their shyness when it came to messing their diapers. The spreader bar does not allow her any resistance against the water flooding her intestine, and also makes sure she cannot resist the subsequent emptying into her diaper by clenching her legs together. The fact that she is completely ready for bed indicates that she had to sleep in her messy diaper afterwards, which was recommended to encourage voluntary bowel movements during the day (ca. 2004).

Figure 4. The horror in the face of this young woman captures perfectly the moment she realizes how quick and effective all these tubes, combined with just a minimum of shackles, removed both her bladder and bowel control, a point often referred to as the “point of no return“ by leading diaper discipline experts. From now on, diapers were not only considered a embarassing form of underwear, but first and foremost a necessity for the rest of their lives (ca. 2007).

Figure 5. Long-term diaper discipline also required new tools for a 24/7 disciplining approach, even when out and about. This young woman is safely padded in a disposable diaper with a pair of yellow plastic panties on top. To make sure that she does not remove her diaper under any (unsupervised) circumstances, a diaper safety belt matching the color of her dress has been put on top. The perspective of never being out of diapers again, regardless of the cirucmstances, acts as a catalysator for continuous diaper usage, leading to small bladders, weak sphincters and eventually (desired) incontinence within a few months (ca. 2009).

[babybobbysstories]

A Sissy Becomes a Baby Cuckold - Chapter Four

A Sissy Becomes a Baby Cuckold

One month later...

Mikey slowly stirred out of his state of slumber, not sure where he was.

As he slowly became adjusted to the dark lighting of Kendra's bedroom, he became aware of hushed voices from somewhere, possibly outside the house.

For some reason that Kendra hadn't shared with him, she'd decided to send him to bed early, and now that he'd drifted back into consciousness, he soon became aware that he'd wet his diapers, and the warm, clammy cotton clung to his bottom within his snug plastic panties. The smell of pee wafted up from under the covers and Mikey blushed that Kendra would smell it when she came into the room to go to bed.

Then he heard it again, what sounded like whispered voices, from the general direction of the driveway.

Slipping out of Kendra's king size bed, he padded over to the window. By now, Mikey had a several sets of jammies to sleep in―fuzzy, soft “diaper shirts”, that were purposely cut short, so as not to risk getting wet from the incontinent sissy's pampers while he slept. On his feet were frilly anklets, which were usually matched with his top and plastic panties, and hanging from a loop around his neck was his now ubiquitous pacifier, in babyish pink latex.

Gazing out the window, he spied Kendra wearing a slinky dress that fit her like a second skin, and a large man, with who she was speaking to in a seductive tone. Suddenly, she reached forward and began kissing him, as the man's hands roamed freely over her curvy body. Mikey was shocked beyond belief, and before he knew what was happening, he felt a strong torrent of hot pee flowing into his already wet diapers. Whereas a real man would have been filled with rage, Mikey's response was to wet himself like a toddler. A plaintive cry escaped his lips as his hands grasped at his diapers, the shame of his lack of control washing over him.

Looking back up at Kendra, Mikey bit his lip anxiously as he watched the man hold the door of his sports car open as she slid into the seat, her sexy high heels the last part of her he saw before her date closed the door.

Mikey let out a sob of anguish―she was never going to see him as anything remotely equal, or some sort of peer. No, at best, Mikey knew he was nothing but her sissy plaything, a toy to do with as she pleased.

As the car drove down the street, Mikey's gaze was drawn to the full length mirrors on the wall that covered Kendra's closet. By now, his eyes had adjusted to the dim, ambient light, and he gazed at his reflection, with his babyish top, pacifier and anklets, and his warm, soggy diapers starting to sag from around his hips.

Some man I turned out to be, he reflected glumly.

Tugging at the elastic waistband of his plastic panties to pull his heavy, wet diapers up, Mikey sighed as he looked at the cute, sissy bedwetter gazing back at him in the mirror.

As he slowly slipped back under the covers, he held his soft teddy bear close to his chest, slipping his comforting pacifier back between his lips. Between the two of them, it helped to take away some of the sting of seeing his “girlfriend” going off on a date with another man.

Over the next several weeks, Kendra never mentioned her late night liaisons and Mikey never admitted that he knew what she was doing behind his back. She was just so beautiful and sexy and he was deathly afraid of losing her, even under the unusual circumstances of their relationship. He didn't dare to confront her.

On the weekends, Kendra began dressing up Mikey more and more as her own baby girl, with pretty satin dresses in pastel colors, frilly onesies, and short, cropped tops with babyish designs on them. These were stored in the spare room next to Kendra's bedroom where she bought a large pink dresser to accommodate them.

On the weekend of Mikey's birthday, Kendra treated him to a marathon session with her strap-on dildo, milking his poor, swollen balls of a copious amount of semen, while stretching his sissy pussy to new, tormented limits. After recovering from her incredible orgasm, she dressed Mikey for the day, putting him into a delightful high-waisted, frilly pink baby dress with a bunny motif across chest below the Peter Pan bodice. In addition to his glossy black Mary Janes, Kendra had made him wear her favorite white nursery print plastic panties with his diapers, over which she pulled on some glittery, see-thru tights. Between the absurdly short hemline of the dress and the thin fabric of his tights, the playful pattern of his waterproof panties could be plainly seen, giving him a decidedly little-girl, toddler look.

Mikey pouted as he gazed at his babyish reflection in the mirrors on the wall.

Kendra was looping his pacifier around his neck when the doorbell suddenly rang.

Mikey froze in place as his eyes widened with panic. At the same time, a strong, uncontrollable squirt of pee flooded into his fluffy diapers.

“Go ahead sissy,” she said brightly, “Go answer the door.”

“Dr-dressed like this?” he quaked.

“Don't worry―it's just my mom,” Kendra replied, as if that would assuage his concerns.

“B-b-but...” he stammered anxiously.

“Don't worry sweetie―I've told her all about you. In fact, mom is the one who bought the cute dress you're wearing today,” she said with a giggle.

Mikey blushed hotly, from his cheeks down to his chest, unaware that Kendra had told someone else about his diapers and childish outfits.

“Run along, sissy,” she said, pulling him to his feet and patting the rounded, fat seat of his diapers.

Mikey stumbled uncertainly toward the door, absolutely dreading the moment when he'd be exposed to this new stranger. He held his hand on the doorknob for several moments before the doorbell rang again urgently, making him jump.

Finally, with great reluctance, Mikey opened the door and pulled it back.

Standing before him on the porch, was a tall, attractive woman in her late forties, closely resembling Kendra in many ways. Although she was a little thicker in the middle, one could easily see where Kendra had inherited her mother's big breasts and long legs. But whereas Mikey's boss tended to wear her long hair down, spilling over her shoulders, her mom wore hers in a severe bun that suggested she was accustomed to giving orders.

Despite her strict looking demeanor, her first reaction upon seeing Mikey in all his sissy glory was to burst out laughing. Standing before her feeling completely foolish, Mikey felt another surge of pee flow into his already wet diapers. It was a childish reaction, but the sissy simply couldn't help himself.

Still laughing, Kendra's mother pushed her way past Mikey. It was only then, that he saw she was carrying a rectangular shaped, gift wrapped package in her arm. Walking in, she set it down on the coffee table and turned to face Mikey.

“You're every bit as pathetic as I thought you'd be, except more,” she told him derisively.

Mikey blushed hotly as he shuffled his feet before her. It was absolutely mortifying standing before this older woman, dressed as a baby girl and feeling the warm, soggy cloth of his humiliating diapers clinging stubbornly to his bottom. He felt just as pathetic as she was describing him.

Mother and daughter greeted each other warmly, momentarily forgetting the spectacle standing before them.

Finally, after making a little small talk, Kendra's mother, Helen, turned to face Mikey.

“On the floor,” she ordered him in her firm, commanding voice, pointing to a place before the coffee table.

Having become used to being told what to do, Mikey immediately sat on the rug, the soggy wet cloth of his diapers squishing against his bottom cheeks.

“Look what mom got you for your birthday, Mikey!” Kendra said brightly as she handed the gift over to the cowering sissy.

Mikey accepted it with trembling hands, still trying to come to grips with the fact he was dressed like a toddler girl in front of this stranger. It certainly didn't help that he'd helplessly wet his diapers, either.

Ripping the pretty nursery style wrapping paper off the package, Mikey's mouth dropped open when he discovered the box contained a two quart enema kit.

Reaching down, Kendra's mother snatched the box from Mikey, opening it and revealing the custom nozzle that came with the kit―a very large, imposing, lifelike dildo.

“This is called the Sissy Tamer,” she declared with a smug grin, “And it's especially recommended for bedwetting sissies like Mikey here.”

Mikey's face was a beet red as she walked into the kitchen and started running water in the sink.

“Kendra, I like to add a squirt of dish washing soap to the mix, just to make sure he gets squeaky clean,” she called from over her shoulder.

“This is going to do you a world of good,” her daughter chuckled as she looked down on the cringing sissy.

Going to the coat closet, she retrieved a tall hat stand and set it alongside an armless chair. Taking an apprehensive Mikey by the hand, she stood him up and brought him over to her side as she took a seat and pulled her skirt back.

Her mother brought the enema bag back into the living room and Mikey could see it was nearly bursting with soapy water.

“N-n-no! P-please, Kendra,” Mikey stammered with fear.

“First―you are to address me as 'Mommy' from now on,” Kendra said firmly, “Second--this is exactly what you need, whether you like it or not.”

Mikey recognized by the tone of her voice that he was perilously close to risking a spanking so he hung his head in defeat.

“What do you say, Mikey?” she demanded.

“Y-yes, Mommy,” he bleated submissively.

Reaching up under the frilly hem of his baby dress, she pulled his tights and plastic panties down off of his saturated diapers.

“Mikey―did you wet yourself??” she snapped.

“I-I had an accident,” he sobbed piteously.

“Over my lap, you big baby,” she told him, clearly annoyed, “Time for a nice, soapy enema.”

Mikey felt like he was five years old all over again as she pulled him over her firm lap, his smelly wet diapers squishing against her bare thighs. He whimpered as he felt them being unpinned and pushed back to expose his back hole, cool air against his damp cheeks.

Mikey let out a squeal of panic as he felt a cool blob of nursery jelly being pushed into his puckering hole. Before he could stop it, a squirt of warm pee escaped, further soaking into his diapers.

Having so much experience with her strap-on, Kendra easily positioned the fat dildo nozzle for the proper angle and she pushed it firmly past his little pink anus.

“OHHH!!” he cried.

Kendra's mother stood over Mikey, hands on her hips and grinning with satisfaction as her daughter slowly pushed the thick, rubbery shaft deeper and deeper into his rectum. Mikey waved his hands in the air helplessly, feeling extremely emasculated and completely at the mercy of his boss.

No sooner was the dildo rammed in to the hilt, than Kendra released the clip, sending a strong torrent of soapy water into Mikey's bowels.

“Ohhhh,” he moaned, kicking his Mary Jane-clad feet.

Kendra squeezed his right cheek as her other hand kept the dildo pushed in as far as it would go.

“There you go,” she said in a soft, soothing voice, “Just what Mommy's little bedwetter needs.”

Mikey gasped and moaned, helpless to stop his punishing purge. It brought back memories of when his real mom had given him enemas, claiming they were for his good health, although Mikey had always had his doubts. They had been particularly humiliating when administered in front of his aunt, who soon adopted his mother's methods herself.

Kendra regulated the clip judiciously, allowing Mikey to get adjusted to the volume, before opening it back up to send another strong flow into his insides. Mikey shook his fists in frustration, idly wondering how he had ever gotten into this position.

“N-no more, Mommy,” he bleated weakly.

Kendra stopped the flow and gently patted his cheek.

“There sissy―you're doing just fine,” she smiled, “Now be a big boy for mommy and take your enema. And when you're done, mommy will change your soggy, wet diapers―won't that be wonderful?”

Mikey was breathing heavily but he squealed as he felt another strong surge of warm water flowing into him. He tried clenching his anal muscles around the thick shaft of the dildo but it did no good―the water continued to flow strongly, uninhibited by his weak efforts.

At long last, the bag was finally empty, hanging flattened from the top of the hat stand.

Mikey was wheezing and moaning, his face a deep shade of red.

With a gentle pat on his bottom, Kendra slowly began easing the big dildo out of his rump, Mikey whimpering from the cramps inside.

“Careful Sissy,” she warned him, “Don't let any of that leak or you'll be going back over my lap for a different kind of session.”

As Mikey slowly rose to his feet, his hand moved to cover his caged genitals in a belated attempt to hid them from Kendra's mother. Limping down the hallway, Mikey barely made it to the bathroom without releasing the enema all over the floor.

Fifteen minutes and numerous flushings later, he emerged from the bathroom, feeling defeated and deeply emasculated.

“Mikey―come into the spare room, mommy has a surprise for you,” Kendra called to him eagerly.

Unsure of what awaited him, he walked toward the open door of the room next to Kendra's with trepidation in his heart.

“Happy birthday!” they both exclaimed as Mikey took in the transformed room.

A large pink and white crib stood in the corner, with soft pink blankets and Mikey's teddy bear laying next to the pillow. In the other corner of the room was a pastel colored, mesh-sided playpen, containing a variety of toys fit for a toddler. Nursery characters covered the pink and white walls and Mikey's changing pad lay on the floor, a fresh set of diapers waiting for him.

He bit his lip nervously as she spied Kendra's fearsome Spencer paddle hanging from a peg on the wall.

“Welcome to your very own nursery!” his boss gushed excitedly.

“It's perfect for a little pantywaist like you,” her mother added in her disparaging tone.

Mikey stood in shock, momentarily dropping his hands from his tiny, caged package as he took it all in.

“This bed will be so much better for you, sweetie,” Kendra explained eagerly, “It's got a nice, waterproof mattress cover for those times when your diapers leak.”

“--An important feature for a bedwetting sissy,” her mother added with a smirk, “But I think you'd better get your little pantywaist back into his diapers before he has another 'accident'.”

“Come along, Mikey, let's get mommy's little bedwetter onto the changing pad, I've got your diapers all ready for you,” Kendra told him as she grasped his hand and sat him down on the waiting stack of soft, fluffy cotton.

Mikey felt incredibly childish and her humiliating words washed over him in waves of shame.

Helen reached down and pushed his pacifier in between his trembling lips and Mikey accepted it gratefully.

Kendra applied a nice, sticky white coating to his rump, before powdering him over his tiny chastity device. Now that he had become somewhat used to Helen's presence, and despite the mortifying ritual taking place, Mikey's eyes began to wander over Kendra's curves and his little penis throbbed with need inside his cage. Her big, luscious boobs were impossible to ignore, especially when she was bent over him changing his diapers.

“Those aren't for you, little boy,” Helen admonished him, having seen what he was staring at, “Those are for a real man―not a bedwetting sissy in diapers.”

Mikey pouted as he sucked his pacifier in frustration. It was maddening, being in such close proximity to a sexy babe like Kendra and his child-sized penis couldn't even get hard.

Sensing his angst, Helen decided to goad Kendra's sissy boyfriend.

“I think you should thank Kendra for locking up your pathetic little wiener,” she said, a smug grin on her face, “You certainly weren't going to please a woman with it.”

Kendra stopped for a moment after securing the sides of his thick diapers around his hips to look down at her sissy boy.

“She's right, you know,” she said, placing her finely manicured hands upon her hips, “I've done you a big favor, locking your little nub in steel.”

“Please, Mommy,” Mikey whimpered with his pacifier muffling his words, “I'm soo horny all the time. Please―please unlock it, just this once,” he begged her piteously.

Wagging her finger before her, she smiled down at the helpless pansy, “Sorry sweetie. Bedwetters get diapers―not orgasms.”

Helen smirked again and she shook her head disdainfully.

“You leave the orgasms to real men and they'll leave the wet diapers and plastic panties to you,” she told him as she sifted through his growing selection of waterproof panties.

Kendra handed Mikey his teddy bear as Helen began feeding a pair of white nursery print vinyl panties over his Mary Janes.

“Here you go, sissy boi,” she said, her voice heavy with condescension, “Some cute baby panties for mommy's little bedwetter.”

Sliding them up his smooth, hairless legs, she worked them over his bulging diapers, running her fingers around the elastic waistband to ensure that all the cotton cloth was properly contained.

“Just look at you, Mikey,” Kendra said brightly, “All safe and protected again.”

“Let's get you into your playpen so you can play with your new baby toys,” Kendra said as she helped the befuddled sissy into his new enclosure.

“Aww, aren't you just the cutest thing,” she gushed eagerly as she clasped her hands together in appreciation.

Helen looked down at him as she shook her head with disdain.

“You're right where a bedwetter belongs―diapered, denied, and controlled.”

Two weeks later...

Mikey woke up to see the late afternoon sunshine dimly streaming through his nursery windows.

Reaching down between his legs, he discovered his diapers were soaking wet, as they always were after his nap. The shameful smell of pee permeated the room, although Mikey was so used to it that the diapered sissy hardly noticed any more.

Just then, Kendra breezed into the room and she crossed over to the window, pulling aside the gauzy pink curtains.

“Hello sweetie,” she greeted him cheerfully, “How did you sleep?”

Mikey yawned, “Good, Mommy,” he replied.

He watched as Kendra prepared a fresh set of diapers for him and she lowered the side of his crib railing to help him out. Today, she was dressed in a thin, low cut halter top that showcased her magnificent breasts in the most mouthwatering way. Mikey stared at her hungrily, wishing for the millionth time, he could nurse from her beautiful bosom.

As she came over to the side of the crib to help him out, Mikey always felt somewhat vulnerable in these moments. It was the the time when she saw him for what he really was―a sissy bedwetter with no more control than a diapered toddler. And it still made him blush as she gazed down upon him in his fleece jammies and pampers, no longer an adult, but just a simpering little pantywaist.

Kendra helped him out of his crib and onto the changing pad where she began pulling his rubber panties and soggy, wet diapers down.

Gazing longingly up into her pretty face and dancing eyes, Mikey realized he was hopelessly in love with her.

“Mommy's got a little something for babykins,” she said sweetly as she set a tube of something behind her and produced Mikey's chastity key from her pocket. With excited abandon, Mikey watched as Kendra inserted the key into the side of his device and twisted it, unlocking the device for the first time in 10 weeks. As the cage was removed, Mikey's tiny little member quickly began to grow with anticipation.

“Now don't get too excited, Mikey,” she giggled, “You don't get to cum today―Mommy's just going to give it some cream that's supposed to help you with your size.”

Even though he was crushed to learn that he wouldn't be cumming today, Mikey felt a surge of gratitude that she was thinking of new ways to make his little penis grow into something more of a real man's proportions.

Slipping a thin rubber glove on her hand, Kendra was careful to hide the name on the tube which said Penis Away along its side as she squeezed a generous portion onto her open palm.

“Theeere...is this what baby likes?” she grinned down upon him.

Mikey sighed and his eyes closed with ecstasy, reveling in the pleasureful feelings coursing through his body.

Kendra was very careful, shrewdly reading his body signs to judge how far she could take him before he exploded in her hand. Mikey's face was flushed and she had to stop her stroking several times to allow him to cool down, before resuming the rubbing in of the penis reducing cream.

“Don't worry, baby,” she said with her ravishing smile, “We're going to make this part of our daily routine from now on.”

Mikey could feel a monumental orgasm rising and just as he was clenching his teeth in anticipation, Kendra abruptly stopped stroking him and she removed the latex glove from her hand.

“Aww, Mommy!” Mikey cried.

“Sorry, sissy,” Kendra giggled, “But don't worry―Nana is coming over later to give you a nice, soapy enema. That should help clear out those swollen little balls of yours.”

Mikey bunched his fists in bitter frustration. He had never been so close to an orgasm before, only to be denied!

Ignoring his angst, Kendra slipped the metal cage back over his wilting erection, mashing his tiny penis into the device and mating the metal pins against the cuff ring.

“What do you say, babykins?” she asked sweetly.

Mikey shook his head petulantly.

“Come on―if you want some more of this tomorrow, you need to say your little line for mommy,” she told him firmly.

Mikey's brow furrowed and his lower lip jutted out in a full blown pout.

“Th-thank you, Mommy, for my chastity device―I really need one,” he said grudgingly.

“Yes you do, you little sissy masturbator,” she said with smug superiority as she locked the device together, rendering him once more frustrated, desperately horny, and sexless.

Several minutes later, Mikey was freshly diapered again, smelling like baby powder, and back in his crib, his head laying upon Kendra's lap as she held a 16 ounce baby bottle of warm milk to his lips.

“That's mommy's baby,” she cooed as Mikey nursed from the bottle. Nearly his entire vision was taken up by Kendra's enormous breasts in front of his face.

“Now Mikey, it's time we had a little discussion,” she began, “As you might imagine, Mommies like me have needs. Needs that a sissy in diapers just can't meet.”

Mikey mewled in protest but the big rubber nipple filling his mouth prevented him from being able to articulate a reply.

“Mommy needs a real man from time to time. A man with a real cock, not a tiny little nub like you have. So that means from time to time, say, once or twice a week, I'm going to be dating other guys and having hot, mind-blowing sex with them. Sometimes it will be at their place, but sometimes it will be here.

“Now, you can either deal with that, or we can end our relationship now―it's up to you.”

Mikey was dumbfounded―of course, he knew all about Kendra's dating but now that it was out in the open, it forced him to give her his full approval, which would only show how weak and spineless he really was.

With a little squeak, he suddenly felt the seat of his diapers growing wet and warm as a steady stream of pee began flowing helplessly between his legs.

At the same time, as he looked up into the firm but beautiful features of Kendra, he knew deep down that he would willingly play any price she demanded to remain with her.

“What do you say, sissy? Are you going to stay as mommy's little baby or do we call it quits?”

Mikey shook his head desperately.

“Please don't leave me, mommy!” he cried, the nipple suddenly slipping out of his mouth.

Kendra smiled victoriously down at her prissy toddler boyfriend.

“That's my little baby bedwetter,” she said with a smug smile, “Mommy's very happy to hear it.

“Now I know I promised you I would allow you to have an orgasm after three months, but I've decided to add another month, just for good measure. What do you think of that?”

Mikey frowned with dismay but he nevertheless knuckled under.

“Th-thank you, M-Mommy,” he said, the bottle nipple muffling his practiced line, “for my--my chastity device―I really need one.”

THE END

[little-boy-writing]

Mommy’s Baby.

“Mommyyyyy,” He pouted. “ ‘top it.” She giggled and kissed his nose again. “I will not,” His face was red all the way to his ears. She loved to watch him blush when she put him into littlespace. The way he pouted made her want to kiss him. “C'mon,” She said. “Be mommy’s baby,” He giggled, but tried to hide it behind a pout. “I not a baby,” She smiled a sly smile and pulled his binky out of her pocket. It was pale blue and glittery. She knew it was his favorite. His blush now spread down his neck and she could tell all that she had to do was stick the binky in his mouth. She brushed his red-brown hair out of his eyes and layed the nipple against his lips. It wasn’t even a second before he pulled it into his mouth. “See that wasn’t so hard,” She whispered into his ear, kissing his cheek then his pacifier. He giggled happily and wrapped his arms around her. “Who’s my baby boy?” He hid his face in her chest. She lifted his face and stared into his brown eyes, her hand under his chin. “Tell me, who’s my handsome baby boy?” “Meeeee!,”. The sound was muffled by his paci but she knew what he was saying. “That’s right,” She held him to her chest. “You’re my precious baby,”

[diapergirl-23]

My husband was out of control and we were close to divorcing. In my desperation, I talked to my mother (she has a background in psychology) and she made a suggestion. "You could propose an arrangement that has consequences for bad behavior. Since he's acting like a big baby, treat him like a big baby. Tell him that if he disobeys a rule, then he will be put back in diapers and sleep in the nursery for a day, or week, or whatever seems appropriate." (We have a nursery and are expecting in about 6 months.) So, he agreed to the "arrangement" and must call me 'mommy' on nursery nights. He has slept in the nursery a lot, and his attitude and behavior seems to be getting better. I'm not going to lie -- I'm really enjoying having the bed to myself! But he'll need to move back into my bed when the baby comes. Since there are nursery nights when I'm working late, my mom (who he must call 'Nana') offered to be his babysitter. I told his big sister about our arrangement, and she was determined to get a pic of him in his baby clothes. Mom and I were getting him ready for bed, and she took a surprise pic (above). She said, "grandma, mommy, and baby! It's like three generations!" After we tucked him into the crib, we all went down to the kitchen for wine and conversation. I asked for ideas about what to do when the baby arrives. At this stage, I'm still not sure what to do. I'd like to make nursery nights the norm, but it isn't practical.

[stinky-in-pinky]

Reposting because Tumblr removed the other

Even from the corner of her eye, Emma could see he was moving funny. He usually had that crinkly waddle, his legs forced wide by the padding between his legs. But she didn’t even have to glance up from her book to notice that something was…off. His movements were more measured, more tentative as he shuffled back and forth in the living room. A quick sniff of her nose confirmed her suspicions, but she decided not to say anything—not just yet.

Her book forgotten, she watched him meander back and forth across the room, waddling aimlessly, not really searching for anything other than something to say.

After several more minutes of silence, Emma finally spared him.

“Ryan,” she called,. “Do you have something you need to tell me?”

He turned slowly, his expression a mix of nervousness and resignation. “I’m fine,” he mumbled.

“Are you sure?” Emma asked, smiling despite herself. “You don’t have anything…weighing heavily on your mind?”

He hesitated, eyes dancing back and forth meekly.

Emma uncurled on the couch, sitting up straight and putting her feet flat on the floor. “Come here.” She said, soft yet firm.

Ryan rocked back and forth on his toes, unsure, but the look from Emma finally convinced him. He sighed, then slowly shuffled over in front of her, his cheeks a bright pink.

He there stood awkwardly, his hands fidgeting at his sides, head lowered. The silence between them stretched out, thick with tension. The padded bulk between his legs was unmistakable — and Emma’s sharp eyes hadn’t missed the subtle change in his posture.

“Ryan,” she said, her tone cool but not cold. “You’re sure there’s nothing you want to tell me?”

His eyes flicked up to meet hers, then darted away just as quickly. His face was crimson now, lips pressed into a thin line. The scent was stronger now, telling her everything she needed to know, even if he wouldn’t.

“N-no…” he whimpered, voice so small.

“Pull down your pants, Ryan.”

His fingers trembled as the gripped the waistband of his joggers, his breath quivering as he dropped them to his ankles.

He stood back up, his large disposable diaper on display. He lifted his shirt—but only because his arms were raised up to hide his face—giving Emma a better view.

She let the moment hang for a minute. The silence (and the diaper) doing all the talking. Ryan rubbed his face anxiously, wanting to move or run or hide, but all he could do was stand there.

Emma uncrossed her arms and rested her hands on her thighs, giving him a look that was soft around the edges but firm at the core. “I’ll ask you once more: Did you do something in your diaper?”

Ryan’s shoulders slumped. He gave the smallest of nods.

“Do you want to tell me what it is?” She asked, as if the evidence wasn’t on full display.

His face flushed again, he hid behind his hands, then shook his head.

“Well then I guess ‘Mommy’ will have to check,” Emma sighed, gently taking him by the wrist and making him shuffle closer with his pants still around his ankles.

She slowly poured her eyes over him, tracing her hand up his cowering thighs, running it over his crinkly pamper—but not stopping—her fingers raising his shirt even further, nails dragging across his tummy.

“It’s pretty swollen, Ryan,” she observed, giving the front a gentle squeeze. It was quite warm, and the smell of piss competed with that of the powder and…other things.

Carefully coaxing a finger into the leg bands, she ran it back and forth teasingly, “Did you wet your diaper, Ryan?”

He let out an embarrassed huff, but nodded.

“Use your words,” Emma said, running her palm over the front of the squishy diaper, “tell me what you did in your diaper, honey!”

His bottom lip quivered, “I…pissed myself.”

Her hand stopped abruptly, ceasing his labored breathing. “Say it in little speak!”

His face screwed up again, he shifted, but his voice creaked out in a higher pitch “I-i went pee pee’s in mah diapee, Mommy!!”

“Goood boiii!!!” Emma cooed, patting his pissy pamper affectionately, squeezing it around his hardening cock and giving it a couple good strokes for some positive reinforcement. “Thank you for telling me!”

She released her grip on his swollen padding and sat back a bit, “Now…is there anything else I need to know…?”

Ryan immediately went back into his shy and timid mode. His head hung low, his body deflated, hands subconsciously rising to his face again.

“N-nuh—“

“Turn around.” This time Emma’s tone was sharp, pointed, meaning business.

Ryan was taken aback at first but—perhaps more out of fear than anything—he whimpered and waddled around in a circle, droopy diaper dancing back and forth as he did.

Emma placed her hand under the hefty load in the back of Ryan’s diaper, it was even warmer than the front. “So you don’t want to tell me what this is??” She scolded, pressing her palm inward and smushing the mush into his backside, watching him visibly cringe. He groaned, whimpering.

“Tell me what it is, Ryan!” Emma roared over his pathetic whining and crying. “Tell me what you did in your diaper, sweetheart!”

Ryan continued to squeal as Emma pressed the mess into him, wriggling it around, using her other hand on his hip to serve as a firm reminder that he was not to move or run away. He was to stay in place and take her torment.

He knew it wasn’t going to stop until he voiced it. As hard as it was to say out loud, it was harder to endure such gross humiliation.

“I made a poopy diaper!!” Ryan cried, “I went poo poo’s in my diapee!!”

Emma stopped, dropping her hand. The hefty load fell back down as gravity took over.

There was more silence for a while. Ryan’s breath heavy and labored. His eyes and cheeks moist.

Eventually, he felt Emma’s soft, cool skin as her hand gently took his. With a firm tug, she guided him to stand beside her. Her fingers curled around his wrist, warm and steady. “Over,” she instructed, tapping her thigh.

That got Ryan blubbering again. “No, Mommy pweez! I sorry! No spankies! PWEEZ!!” Even through his pitiful pleas he instinctively started dropping to his knees to climb over her lap for a punishment—but she stopped him.

“No, no, baby!” She said,stopping him. Softly, comforting, “like this…”

She guided one of his legs over hers, keeping him facing forward, away from her. Emma adjusted him with little effort, settling him so that his bottom was properly positioned — thickly padded, snug in his diaper, and directly over her knee. She rubbed his back for a moment, grounding him, then slowly pressed him down so that his weight was fully on her thigh.

“Shhh…it’s okay!” She whispered softly in his ear when it made him cringe.

Peeling back the waistband, she gave the diaper a quick, practiced peek. Again, not because she didn’t know the contents, but to get him familiar with the process.

“You certainly did some damage in there, little man!” She said, patting the waistband closed. She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around him, like a big spoon, “but if you want to wear diapers, you’re going to have to learn to tell Mommy when you use them.”

Before he could reply, Emma shifted slightly, spreading her knees just enough for a better seat. Then, without warning, she began to bounce him — small, controlled lifts of her leg beneath him. The motion was firm, rhythmic, and deliberate. Not punishing, but undeniably corrective. Each bounce jostled him gently but unmistakably, the thick padding exaggerating every motion.

He tried to move away, but she tightened her arm across his lower back, steadying him, pressing him down. “You’ll stay here until you remember this feeling,” she said, not breaking the rhythm of her knee. “Get used to it. It’s going to be happening a lot more from now on. You didn’t think you were going to get to wear diapers and not use them for all of their intended purposes, did you??”

Ryan whimpered and whined.

Bounce. Bounce. Bounce.

Each rise of her knee sent a flush of warmth through his cheeks, not just from the physical sensation of the mush on his bottom, but from the emotional exposure of it all rushing to his face. And yet, as her other hand brushed slowly up his spine, comforting even in the middle of discipline, the duality of it soothed him. She waited for him to finally have his cathartic moment before coming to a stop.

“Come here, honey…” she said softly, turning him around but in the same position, wrapping her arms around him so he could bury his face in her chest, sobbing softly. She patted his back, shhhing him. “I know that was hard, sweetpea, but this is why you need to tell Mommy when something happens in your diaper! You’re supposed to ask for help — not try to hide it.””

“I was embarrassed,” he whispered.

“I know you were, honey.” She cooed, brushing her hand along his back “it must be humiliating being a grown man pooping in a diaper, huh?”

He whimpered at that, but she held him closer and rocked him back and forth.

She knew that he liked to be degraded, but he needed the other part too. “Trying to hide it only makes it worse. I’m here to help you through the hard stuff, even the messy stuff. Especially that.”

He softened at that, melting in her arms.

“You’re safe,” she whispered close to his ear. “I’ll never judge you or leave you or make you feel less-than for the things you enjoy.” She let that hang, then shrugged, “well…other than when we’re in scenes.”

Moments like this—where they were having their kinky play time, experimenting with the dominant and submissive dynamic—always seemed to lead to a breaking down of barriers of some kind. The years of shame and guilt and baggage that Ryan had carried with him about his stupid little fetish all seemed to fade away in that instant. He felt safe in her arms, protected. Accepted, as she rocked him back and forth in his mushy diaper. The smell was horrendous, but she didn’t have a single wrinkle on her nose as she kissed his forehead softly. She loved him. All of him.

“There,” she said gently when he lifted his head off her damp shoulder, his cheeks and eyes still misty. “Better?”

He nodded, hands wiping his face.

She helped him up carefully, her hands guiding him with the same firmness that had corrected him. Their eyes met — his shy and grateful, hers steady and affectionate before she closed them and gave him a kiss.

“Let’s go change your diaper,” she said, standing up, but she had that devious look in her eye again. The one that said she wasn’t done playing. “Then you’re going to go over my lap the other way, I’m going to get the wooden spoon, and we’re going to give you a reminder of why you need to be honest with Mommy.”

[ashbabylittle]

Love Letter to Light-Hearted Diaper Humiliation

No shade to any and all other types of dominating but I have a huge affinity for humiliation where it's low stakes, light-hearted and fun :) For example:

"Hey stinker, come over here really quick, let me check you."

"Let's get you changed. No, I'm not mad! If I expected you to be able to hold it you wouldn’t have a diaper on cutie."

"It's okay if you had an accident, dork - I'm not exactly surprised at this point. Come here, lets see if you need a change"

"You really didn't notice that you peed yourself? Adorable"

"You're lucky I'm around baby, or you'd never know when you'd need to change. Which is often by the way 😇"

"Hey! This is Ash, she's my girlfriend! - just to get it out of the way, she's wearing a diaper right now since she is struggling with her control - no worries, we have it handled!"

*Pats my wet diapered butt* "Whoa kiddo - did you have a couple more accident's since last I checked?"

"Did you try to make it to the potty? Okay well that's all we can ask for! Maybe next time, stinker 🤭"

"Girl.. you wet your training diaper twice yesterday, I wouldn't exactly say we're close to fully trained"

"I'm going to grab more stickers for the bedwetting chart at the store - I'm only going to get raincloud stickers because we still have a plenty of unused sunshine stickers..."

"I hope you don't mind I told them about your diapers since we are going to be staying the night. No, it's fine, they don't care - its not exactly a secret at this point that you're still training."

"I wish you could see your face when I notice that you had an accident - you become such a blushy mess 😍"

"Do you 'think' you had an accident or do you know you had an accident and are too embarrassed to admit it?"

"Uh oh - soggy morning kiddo? That's alright, we'll try again tomorrow - Make sure to put the raincloud on the chart so we can keep track :)"

"I'd totally believe you if you weren't wearing a unicorn onesie with a soaked diaper right now"

"I'm not going to change you yet, dork - I know you're not done having accidents today"

"Come here baby, your waistband is poking out"

"Yeah she is! Come here Ash!" As I walk over, she flips up my skirt to show my used diaper "See? Told you! She needs them since she can't always hold it when she has to go.. as you can see!"

"I'll give you $10 right now if you are dry"

"It honestly makes sense that you're a bedwetter - it fits your vibe :)"

"I haven't seen your bunny stuffie in a while - did you guys break up? 😉"

*Grabs the front of my very wet diaper* "I dunno, does this feel like being a big girl to you?"

*a hissing sound starts coming from my side of the couch* "Wow you really had to go, huh baby?"

"Did you just piss your diaper while sitting in my lap?"

"Next time you feel an accident coming along let me know - I wanna put my hand on it feel you losing control 😈 that is, if you are able to notice when you have to go 🤭"

"Hold still, you are fussier to change than the kids I used to babysit"

"You're being awfully sassy towards the girl who decides if you get changed or not"

"No way girl. Those stripes are gone - wetness indicated!"

"I've never seen someone so happy to lay across my lap - its so cute"

"You're soaked butt is like a little pissy stressball that I can squeeze whenever I want to, because lets face it, you're not dry that often."

"I put your name as DPRGRL for bowling - hope that's chill 😘"

"You'd think after all these accidents, you'd stop getting so embarrassed you little dweeb 😋"

"Well, lets be clear - you're wearing diapers because you can't be trusted to hold it. You're wearing those diapers because they're so cute on you :) hope that clears it up!"

"I honestly just assume you're always a little wet. And I'm usually right lol"

"Yes, but counter point: You're wearing a diaper that you just peed in so."

"Hey cutie, wake up - I think you're dreaming of waterfalls"

"I don't want you to lose all of your control, but it is really cute to watch you fill your pampers so. Either way is good with me baby but it seems like we're headed in that direction ;)"

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom - wanna come and take notes?"

"Yeah no, I asked my friends, none of us have had an accident in the last month so you're on your own there sweetie :)"

"Hey, there's no shame in pissing your pants so often and so much that your girlfriend is compelled to start putting you in diapers and tracking your loss of control until you become a full-time bedwetter and pamper pisser - it's totally normal and reasonable.. totally😐."

"Hey stinker - got enough room in that thing for one more episode?"

"I could hold my breath longer than you can stay dry"

"Oh shut up, you love this."

Etc.

There's probably so much more but I can't think of anything else so.

Here ya go.

[tzplz4]

[tdenialman]

A wonderful Rule to live be… or to be forced to live by.

[lil-sissy-maid]

Definitely need these T-shirts 😍❤️🐽🤏🏻🔒