plawing

18+NO minors ABsub in his30sl

[babydou17]

Reposting a favorite of mine from our previous blog.

Throwback to when I showed you all how I helped my little guy associate babyfood with a “feel good” sensation… 😉 A technique I still use from time to time just to make dinners a little bit more eventful and exciting!

[paddedlittleparadise]

“Aww, such a sweetie! Who’s a little cutie for Miss Rosie? Is it you? Boop! Aww, yes it is!”

He’s so adorable. So calm and quiet now. So different from the strong guy I know he is. And you know, I like that. I really like that.

No ripped jeans, no deep voice, no quirky grin. That’s part of the big Casey - the guy I fell for, the dude whose muscles and thoughtful air and confident masculinity made me realize that relationships just might be worth a shot again. Those gorgeous parts of him are not gone, of course. They’re just… dropped. Discarded. You know, like a set of clothes that just aren’t quite right for the occasion.

Casey’s simply different right now. “Little space,” he calls it. No drugs involved, of course - just a tiny inner shift, like toggling him into a different mode. That deep voice? It’s higher now and so much softer. The grin? Oh, he’s still happy. Thrilled, even. It just comes out in a sleepy, shy little smile, more often than not hidden behind the little binkie I got him for his birthday.

He’s little Casey now, and every motherly instinct within me is throbbing to care for him.

My mind is scanning constantly for anything that might be amiss. Diaper? Nice and dry, at least for now. Warm? Right now he is, though I’ve already got another adorable outfit picked out just in case I see that telltale shiver of goose pimples across his bare legs. Hungry or thirsty? Don’t worry! I’ve already got two bottles for him - one of milk and one of juice. And then there’s crackers and some oatmeal and even a few jars of baby food… Oh, and then he’ll need his nap, and-

Am I rambling now? Maybe so. But my Casey is just so stinking cute - I can’t help it!

“You are a cutie, yes you are! Miss Rosie loves you so much!”

Oh, of course. He’ll slip out of Little space after we’re done playing - maybe after I put him down for his nap. It’s after he wakes that we’ll have drinks and joke and watch Netflix and writhe together in breathless pleasure as the glorious adults we are. That’s all incredible in its own way.

But it’s moments like this, when it’s just him and me playing our motherly and babyish roles that no one else will ever know, that stand out to me most. You see, he’d never do this with anyone else but me. And I’m never going to have with anyone else what I have with him. 

My strong man. My sweet little baby. My Casey.

Image Credit: ABDreams.com

Please don’t remove my caption or accreditation! As long as you don’t, may kind-hearted snow gnomes clear all the snow from your sidewalks this winter.

Like this? Want to read some longer stories? Check out my Patreon! :-)

[paddedlittleparadise]

It’s been awhile since I thought about this one!

And for the record I’m no longer on Patreon, but my longer stories are still available on Ream 😁

[ameliemommy]

Mommy’s Little Secret

Disclaimer: The image is property of @missfoxiemommy Toby’s workday had been long, the kind that made his shoulders ache and his mind buzz with spreadsheets and deadlines. As he pulled his car into the driveway, he let out a slow breath, already feeling the tension melt away. Home. His sanctuary. And more importantly, her... his wife, his love, the one person who could turn the world’s chaos into something manageable.

The front door creaked as he pushed it open, the familiar scent of vanilla and something sweet, maybe cookies, maybe her lotion, wrapping around him like a hug. “Honey?” he called, his voice already slipping into that softer tone he only used for her.

“In the living room, baby boy,” her voice floated back, warm and teasing. “Hurry up, I’ve got a surprise for you.”

Toby kicked off his shoes, leaving them haphazardly by the door, and padded down the hall. The moment he stepped into the living room, his breath hitched. The curtains were drawn, casting the room in a golden, late-afternoon glow. The TV was already on, the bright, cheerful theme song of Bluey playing softly in the background. A pile of Legos sat on the coffee table, half-built and waiting. And there she was, his Mommy, curled up on the couch with a blanket draped over her lap and a mischievous smile playing on her lips.

“There’s my big boy,” she cooed, patting the space beside her. “Come here. You look exhausted.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. Toby crossed the room, his tie already loose, his shirt untucked from the drive home. The moment he was close enough, she reached up and tugged him down onto the couch, her fingers deftly unbuttoning his shirt. “Let Mommy take care of you,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to his temple.

Toby melted into her touch, his body already relaxing. This was his favorite part of the day, the moment he could shed the adult world and just be. Be little. Be hers.

Mommy’s hands were gentle but firm as she stripped him out of his work clothes, peeling away the slacks, the socks, the briefs. Toby wiggled a little, his face heating as the cool air hit his skin. He knew what was coming next, and the anticipation made his toes curl.

“Such a good boy, letting Mommy change you,” she praised, her voice dropping into that sweet, condescending tone that made his stomach flip. She reached for the diaper on the coffee table, a thick, babyish one. Toby’s cheeks burned.

“Uh-uh,” Mommy tutted, tapping his hip lightly. “Lift up. That’s it.”

The diaper rustled as she slid it beneath him, the crinkle loud in the quiet room. Toby bit his lip, his fingers twisting in the blanket as she fastened the tapes snugly around his waist. The thickness between his legs was immediately comforting, the way it hugged him, the way it owned him. He let out a shaky breath, his body sagging into the couch.

“There we go,” Mommy murmured, smoothing her hands over the front of his diaper. “All nice and snug. You’re gonna be so comfy, aren’t you?”

Toby nodded, his face buried against her shoulder. He could already feel the warmth spreading through him, the way his mind went fuzzy and soft at the edges. The diaper was wet, suddently wet but he didn’t care. Mommy didn’t seem to mind either. If anything, the way her fingers lingered as she adjusted the leg cuffs made him think she liked it.

“Now, what’s my good boy need?” Mommy asked, already reaching for the hem of her shirt. Toby’s breath hitched as she pulled it over her head, revealing the soft lace of her nursing bra. His mouth watered.

“M-milk, Mommy?” he whispered, his voice small.

“Such a polite little thing,” she cooed, unclasping her bra and letting it fall away. Toby’s eyes locked onto her, his body humming with need. She guided him into position, helping him latch with practiced ease. The first pull of sweet, warm milk had him moaning, his fingers clutching at her sides.

Mommy carded her fingers through his hair, her other hand resting possessively on his diapered bottom. “That’s it, baby. Drink up. You’ve been so good today.”

Toby whimpered around her nipple, his free hand reaching blindly for the pile of Legos. He fumbled with the blocks, his movements slow and uncoordinated as he sank deeper into his little headspace. The TV played in the background, the bright, cheerful voices of Bluey mixing with the soft sounds of his sucking, the occasional crinkle of his diaper as he shifted.

He wasn’t thinking about work anymore. He wasn’t thinking about anything, really. Just the warmth of Mommy’s skin, the taste of her milk, the way his diaper squished a little every time he moved.

Mommy pulled him off with a soft pop, wiping his mouth with her thumb. “Had enough, sweet boy?”

Toby nodded, his eyelids heavy. He was so relaxed, his body boneless and warm. Mommy helped him lie down, tucking a pillow under his head and draping the blanket over him. His Legos were still scattered across his lap, half-built and forgotten.

“You just rest, okay?” she murmured, brushing a kiss over his forehead. “Mommy’s right here.”

Toby mumbled something incoherent, his fingers twitching toward the Legos again. He could hear Bluey in the background. It was perfect. He was perfect.

[247-diaperboy]

Trapped

This is a edited version of the original post Trapped. I have edited it a little as well as added to it to turn it into a story of a 20-year-old collage boy with a kinky twisted side wishing he had no control and was forced back into diapers by a daddy.

So ever considered what it would be like to be trapped in a crib laying on a vinyl mattress cover with hands and feet restrained? How about waist trapped too while wearing thick diapers with locking plastic pants? Let’s add confinement in permanent metal chastity cage. But wait there’s more. Try this one for size for added terror, frustration, and denial. You have a Wi-Fi controlled vibrating butt plug securely inserted up your bottom. It’s a retention type plug so once carefully inserted with plenty of lubricant; it’s not slipping out even if you tried to expel the intrusive plug from your bottom

As you read this in the back of a fetish magazine you find yourself rock hard and dreaming of having this exact thing done to you. The acritical goes on to say that by filling out the contract listed below at my website and submitting it to daddy your dream can come true. Now rock hard and your brain running wild you open your laptop and find the web site filling the form out as you slowly stroke and rub the front of your shorts. Once done you hit submit.

As fast as you sent the form to daddy, you receive an e-mail from daddy. As you read the e-mail you see a time and address to report to for your training. Now rock hard and mind fully in fetish mode you see that you have one hour to get across town to daddy's address. You jump in the shower and throw on a pair of sweatpants sock and t-shirt. Once dressed you more or less run to your car still sporting an erection thinking my dream is going to come true. You arrive at 3 pm like instructed on Friday afternoon and have the entire weekend free to be the horny diaper boy for a Dom daddy.

You ring the doorbell and a tall 30- to 40-year-old answers the door and say's hello boy come in and take your shoes off. Once inside you are instructed to call him daddy as he walks you to a room filled with baby furniture only everything in the room is built for an adult. Daddy instructs you to remove all of your clothes and get on the changing table. Once on the table you have lotion and powder rubbed all over you then a generous amount of lube is applied to you tight hole.

Daddy tells you to relax and the toy will be inserted. You feel the large toy press against your hole. You relax and take a deep breath as it is pushed deep in once thrust. Daddy looks you in the eye's and says that my good boy. Next you see daddy placing a ring around your balls and watch as he slides a metal cage over your hard pee, pee as daddy calls it. It takes some time, but daddy gets that cage on and you are now locked in your first every chastity cage. You lay back as you strain inside the cage. Daddy then slides the thickest diaper under you that you have ever seen. t is all white with cute baby prints on the tape zone. Daddy pulls it up and fastens the tapes before patting the front of the diaper as he say's you're such a good boy for daddy. You feel like you are in heaven this is a dream come true, something you have always wanted to try and have done to you.

You’re made to go to bed at exactly 8:30 pm and have to drink a large baby bottle filled with water every 30 mins. 4 hours prior to bed. What you don't know is daddy has added a generous dose of some medication that makes you sleep “like a baby” and behave like you are a toddler age 3-5 years of age that's been given at least one full course of electro convulsive therapy (ECT). You have no way to resist because the therapies, and medication have made you powerless to resist. This will be your new life.

You now not only are wetting all night long due these therapies and a prior history of bedwetting nightly till age 12, but now you wet uncontrollably in the daytime. You may be in deep sleep for 1-2 hours or possibly 4-5 hours but sooner or later your daddy is going to access the App to the vibrating butt plug and torment you for God knows how long.

You’re utterly powerless to do anything but struggle tug kick and pull against the restraints you find yourself in. At first this was exciting and thrilling but the weekend has come and gone, and you are still trapped in the crib at daddy's house.

Unable to touch yourself and kept locked in chastity months have come and gone. The collage has kicked you out and you now belong to daddy

The days of daily diaper masturbation are now a distant memory. Those days were fun. Wet a bunch and rub one off inside one’s soggy pampers. No mess no harm, just good clean fun compulsive masturbation.

All the little boys reading this know exactly what I’m talking about. However, you're no longer a teenager at you’re an adult with adult responsibilities but you find yourself trapped in chastity cage permanently, uncontrollable wetting 24/7 x almost a year and you sleep in a crib. It’s no longer fun anymore because your keeper doesn’t allow you to make cummies in you pampers very often.

Your penis has shrunk immensely too, and it is no longer firm enough to have normal penetrative sex. Your trapped and have nowhere to go except what you’re told to do by daddy.

The sound of all of this was exciting when you first read it 6 months ago. Now you have transitioned to spontaneously wetting yourself in the daytime with no control.

Daddy has broken you and turned you into a toddler kept locked in chastity and diapers just like in your fantasy?

This is how one little former chronic diaper masturbation adult lives his life every day. You are powerless too ever trying to escape. You can hear your vinyl crib mattress crinkle as you moan and try to break free. Daddy watches on his computer screen as the camara catches your every move. Daddy thinks it is funny but also sad because his baby has no more freedom. He’s in baby jail forever! Daddy 🤣🤣🤣

[di4p3rboy]

[ameliemommy]

The Reintroduction

The stroller’s wheels squeak softly as Mommy pushes you through the front door, the sound of laughter and chatter spilling out from the living room. You can feel the weight of the thick diaper between your legs, the plastic backing crinkling with every slight movement. The shortalls do little to hide the obvious bulge, the fabric stretched taut over the padding. You wiggle your toes, the socks on your feet feeling absurdly small, like they belong to a child rather than a grown man. But that’s what you are now, aren’t you? Mommy’s little boy, strapped into a stroller, about to be paraded in front of people who once knew you as an equal.

You grip the tray of the stroller, your fingers tracing the edge of the plastic as Mommy steers you into the room. The conversations falter for a moment, then die entirely. You can almost hear the confusion in the silence. A few of your former coworkers glance over, their expressions shifting from polite smiles to outright bewilderment. One of them, Mark, from accounting, does a double take, his beer bottle pausing halfway to his lips.

“Uh…” he starts, then stops, as if his brain can’t quite process what he’s seeing.

Mommy doesn’t miss a beat. She stops the stroller in the middle of the room, her hand resting on the back as she beams down at you. “Look who I brought!” she announces, her voice dripping with that infuriating, affectionate pride. “Say hi to everyone, sweetheart.”

You squirm, your face burning. You want to shrink into the stroller, to disappear entirely, but there’s nowhere to hide. The diaper is impossible to ignore, the bulk of it pressing against the seat, the tapes digging slightly into your hips. You can feel the warmth spreading through the padding, you’d peed a little on the way over, nerves getting the better of you, and the wetness indicators are probably already an embarrassing blue.

“Hi,” you mumble, your voice small, your eyes fixed on your lap.

Mark, your old coworker, is the first to break the silence. He tilts his head, squinting at the obvious bulge beneath your shortalls. “Dude… is he wearing a diaper?”

Mommy doesn’t hesitate. “Of course he is.”

Sarah, from HR, steps closer, her eyes flicking between Mommy and the unmistakable outline of the diaper. “No way. Seriously?”

Mommy nods, her fingers already working at the snaps of your shortalls. “Seriously.”

Jake from marketing crosses his arms, his expression a mix of disbelief and amusement. “But does he, like… use it?”

Mommy’s grin widens as she unfastens the last snap and tugs the shortalls down your legs in one smooth motion. The fabric pools at your ankles, leaving you in nothing but your t-shirt and the thick, crinkling diaper. The room falls silent again as the full sight of you is revealed, the bulky padding, the plastic backing, the way the diaper forces your legs apart.

And then they see it.

The wetness.

The deep blue stripe on the front of the diaper is  impossible to miss, the plastic glistening slightly where the moisture has spread. Sarah’s eyes widen. “Oh my God. He peed in it.”

Mommy chuckles, bending down to pull the shortalls free and set them aside. “Told you he uses them.”

Mark lets out a disbelieving laugh, crouching down to get a better look. His fingers hover just above the diaper, as if he’s afraid to touch it. “That’s… that’s wild.”

Jake shakes his head, his grin spreading. “So he just sits there, in a wet diaper, like it’s normal?”

Mommy ruffles your hair, her touch affectionate. “It is normal. For him, anyway.” She taps the front of your diaper, the squish loud in the quiet room. “See? Nice and wet. Just like a good little boy should be.”

The room erupts into laughter, the initial shock giving way to teasing. Sarah reaches out, her fingers brushing against the plastic backing. The crinkle is deafening. “Damn. That’s thick. And wet.”

You squirm, your face burning, but you don’t protest. What’s the point? The evidence is right there, plain for everyone to see. The diaper is heavy between your legs, the wetness a constant, embarrassing reminder of your regression. But beneath the humiliation, there’s something else, something warm, something comforting. This is who you are now. Mommy’s little boy, diapered and cared for, and if that means being the center of attention for a while, so be it.

The teasing continues for what feels like an eternity. They ask if you can walk (you can, but Mommy prefers to keep you in the stroller for “safety”). They ask if you want to be like this (the answer is complicated). They ask if Mommy changes you (yes, and you hate how much you love it).

Eventually, though, the novelty wears off. The adults drift back to their conversations, work, politics, the latest sports game, leaving you and Mommy on the periphery. Mommy bends down, her face softening as she looks at you. “You doing okay, baby?”

You nod, but your throat feels tight.

She smiles, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “Good boy. “Now go play.”

Play. The word makes your stomach twist, but you obey, shuffling toward the corner of the room where a few toys have been left out, a stuffed bear, a stack of blocks, a coloring book. You can feel the eyes on you as you move, the occasional snicker, the whispered comments. But you ignore them, because Mommy told you to play, and good boys listen to Mommy.

You sink down onto the floor, the diaper crinkling loudly beneath you. The blocks are in front of you, but you don’t reach for them. Instead, you sit there, your hands resting on your knees, the thickness of the diaper a constant, comforting presence.

Across the room, the party continues. Laughter, clinking glasses, the hum of adult conversation. And you? You’re just… there. A curiosity. A joke. A little boy in a diaper, left to his own devices while the grown-ups talk about grown-up things.

It’s humiliating.

It’s perfect.

Because for all the teasing, for all the stares, you know one thing for certain: you’re hers. And as long as Mommy’s happy, as long as she’s proud of her good little boy, you can endure anything.

[datlittlewarrior]

😤 18:00 sharp. the moment everything changed forever. 🚪💼

After another long day of his smug attitude, coming home expecting dinner on the table and his “man of the house” crown polished… Mommy had had enough. 😠👩‍🍼

No more pretending. No more “big boy” privileges. Tonight he becomes what he’s acted like for months: a helpless, dependent little baby : 0 to 12 months, permanently. No negotiations. No safe word. No going back. 👶⛓️

He walks in. Door locks behind him 🔒. Mommy stands there in her high-waisted mom jeans, floral blouse with puffed sleeves (very 1986 Sears catalog chic), arms crossed, wooden spoon already in hand like a scepter.

“Strip. Now.”

He laughs nervously. Big mistake. 😏👋

Clothes yanked off piece by piece ...tie, shirt, slacks, tighty-whities... all tossed into a Hefty trash bag labeled “HUSBAND : DO NOT OPEN UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE.” 🗑️

Onto the living room table he goes, kicking and protesting like the brat he is. Mommy doesn’t hesitate: warm washcloth soaked in Johnson’s Baby Bath (the classic yellow bottle, 1980s staple 🛁), scrubbing every inch while he squeals. Then the ritual begins ... no mercy.

Baby lotion (pink bottle, Avon-style), slathered thick. Then the Johnson’s Baby Powder cloud ...so much talc it looks like a snowstorm in the living room. Coughing, whining, he gets three sharp spanks per cheek just for squirming. 🍑🔥 “Babies don’t talk back, little man.”

Next: the main event. A thick stack of Overnight Diapers (the ultra-puffy 1980s version with the cute little bears on the front 🐻). She tapes it on mercilessly tight ...so bulky he can barely close his thighs. Crinkle-crinkle with every panicked wiggle.

Then the babyish outfit: soft yellow baby top, white lace-trimmed bonnet tied under his chin, and the pièce de résistance ... a big Nuk pacifier (the orthodontic one all the mommies swore by) strapped in with ribbon so he can’t spit it out. 😭🍼

“From now on,” Mommy purrs, patting the massive padded bottom, “pee-pee, poo-poo, goo-goos… all of it goes right here. No potty. No big boy privileges. Ever. Again.”

18:30 ,waddle time. 👣🍼

She marches (well… he waddles) him down the hallway to the spare room she transformed in one single furious day: pastel blue walls, Peter Rabbit border, a white wooden drop-side crib (Sears, 1984 model), lambs & teddy mobile spinning lazily overhead, changing table stocked with diapers, Desitin, more powder, and a fresh stack of those cartoon diapers.

Up and over the rail he goes ...plopped onto the Winnie-the-Pooh fitted sheet. Rail slams up. Click- locked. crib mobile turning, soft glow of the night-light shaped like a smiling moon. 🌙

Mommy blows a kiss. “First long baby night, sweetie. Twelve hours minimum. Night-night~” 💤👋

She closes the door. Baby monitor on.

Downstairs she goes :house finally hers. 💃🍷

She slips into her silky robe (the one with the shoulder pads), pours a generous glass of white Zinfandel (very 80s), unwraps a Hershey bar, pops Pretty in Pink into the VCR, and sinks into the couch like a queen reclaiming her throne. 🛋️🍫

But the monitor crackles…

First whimpers at 19:00. “Honey… please… this isn’t funny… let me out…” 😢

Mommy sips wine. Ignores.

20:30 ... louder now. “I’m your husband! I’m a grown man! This is insane!”

Mommy pauses the movie. Marches upstairs in heels. Opens nursery door. Towering over the crib rails.

“You are not my husband. You are my baby. And babies who throw tantrums get corrected.” ⚠️

He sees it then: the Fleet glycerin suppository in her hand (the adult size ... huge, unmistakable, straight from the 1980s pharmacy shelf). 😱

Screaming. Begging. Kicking the bars.

Rail drops. She hauls him out, flips him tummy-down across her lap ...thick diaper crinkling loudly. A few crisp spanks to settle the fussing. 🍑👋

Back of the diaper peeled down. Cool air. Then... slow, deliberate pressure… the massive suppository sliding in, pushed deep with one firm finger. He squeals like a tea kettle. “Noooo Mommy pleeeease!!” 😭

She holds it there a moment, satisfied. Tapes the diaper back snug. Up goes the rail. Click.

“Good boy. Now you’ll do exactly what babies do.”

Back downstairs. Movie resumes.

21:15...the monitor erupts.

Desperate crying. Shouting. Then… the unmistakable wet, mushy sounds. 💦💩

Loud squishing. Gasping sobs. The thick Luvs swelling even more as he helplessly fills it ( wave after wave )while the suppository does its merciless work.

Mommy smiles into her wine glass.

She won’t change him until morning. Let him stew in his mess all night ... warm, heavy, humiliating proof of his new reality.

And tomorrow? First thing after his 7 a.m. bottle: a Polaroid snapshot of that sagging, obviously-used diaper for the brand-new baby album. Labeled in neat handwriting:

“Baby’s First Big Mess - March 1986 💕” 📸👶

Welcome to your forever nursery, little one.

Mommy’s in charge now. 😘🍼

Forever.

#MommyDom #ForcedRegression #DiaperBoy #MDLB #FLR #ABDL #1980sBaby #NoPottyEver #ThickDiapersOnly #Humiliation #Babyfication #CribTime #SuppositoryDiscipline

[ameliemommy]

Playpen Punishment

The nursery was quiet except for the soft crinkle of your diaper as you shifted in the playpen. The bars were tall, the padding beneath you plush, but none of it mattered. You were mad. Mommy had put you here for talking back, again, and no amount of pouting or kicking your feet was going to change that. The thick, baby-blue diaper between your legs felt like a betrayal, a reminder of how small she could make you feel when she wanted to.

You sighed, your pacifier bobbing as you sucked on it absently. The blanket beneath you was soft, but it did nothing to ease the frustration bubbling inside you. Without thinking, your hand drifted down, fingers pressing against the padded front of your diaper. The pressure was instant, a spark of something warm and forbidden. You bit down on your pacifier, your hips lifting just a little, seeking more.

That’s when you heard it, the soft creak of the rocking chair.

Mommy had been watching.

Her voice was sweet, almost musical, but there was a edge to it that made your stomach twist. "Aww, is my baby boy bored?" She leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees, her chin propped up in her hands. Her eyes sparkled with amusement, but her smile was knowing. Too knowing.

You froze, your hand still pressed against your diaper. You knew you weren’t supposed to touch yourself. Good boys didn’t do that. But the way she was looking at you, like she already knew exactly what you’d been doing, made your face burn.

Before you could pull your hand away, hers was there, slipping between the bars of the playpen. Her fingers curled around your wrist, not to stop you, but to guide you. "Boys don’t get to touch themselves," she murmured, her voice low and firm. "Only Mommy can touch you."

Your breath hitched. You should’ve been embarrassed. You were embarrassed. But the way her fingers replaced yours, pressing into the thick padding of your diaper, made it impossible to care. Her touch was deliberate, her palm cupping you through the layers of plastic and fluff. You whimpered, your hips jerking upward instinctively, seeking more pressure.

Mommy’s laugh was soft, almost a purr. "That’s it, baby. Let Mommy take care of you." Her fingers worked in slow, deliberate circles, her thumb pressing just there, right where you needed it most. The diaper crinkled loudly with every movement, the sound filling the quiet nursery. You could feel yourself getting harder, the pressure building until it was almost unbearable.

Your pacifier slipped from your lips as you panted, your free hand clutching at the blanket beneath you. "Mmm, someone’s very excited," Mommy teased, her voice dripping with amusement. She didn’t let up, her fingers never stilling, never giving you a moment to catch your breath. The pleasure was overwhelming, a hot, heavy weight in your groin that made your toes curl.

You tried to speak, to beg, but all that came out was a muffled, desperate sound. Your hips bucked against her hand, your body moving on its own, chasing the release that felt just out of reach. The diaper was warm now, damp from earlier, but the heat between your legs was something else entirely.

Mommy leaned closer, her breath warm against your cheek. "You gonna make a mess for Mommy, baby?" Her voice was a whisper, but it might as well have been a command. The way she said it, like she already knew the answer, sent a shiver down your spine.

And then, just like that, you were there.

Your body tensed, your back arching off the blanket as the pleasure crashed over you. A choked cry tore from your throat, the sound muffled by the pacifier you’d barely managed to shove back into your mouth. Your hips jerked, once, twice, your entire body shuddering as you spilled into your diaper. The warmth spread quickly, the padding soaking up every last bit of your release. But Mommy wasn’t done. Her fingers kept moving, kept pressing, and the pleasure didn’t stop. Your body clenched, and with a gasp, you realized…

You were going number two, too.

The heat in your belly twisted, and before you could stop it, your diaper gave a loud, wet squelch. The smell hit you immediately, thick, musky, stinky. Your face burned with humiliation, but Mommy just giggled, her fingers finally stilling.

"Looks like someone made a big mess," she cooed, her voice laced with delight. She didn’t move to clean you up. Didn’t even reach for the wipes. Instead, she simply stood, her hands on her hips as she admired her handiwork.

You lay there, panting, your diaper sagging with the weight of your mess. The warmth was unbearable, the stickiness clinging to your skin. You wanted to squirm away, to hide, but there was nowhere to go. The playpen bars were still between you and freedom.

Mommy’s smile was wicked as she reached down and scooped you up, cradling you against her chest. You were heavy in her arms, your diaper a warm, squishy burden between you. "Such a messy boy," she murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "But you’re my messy boy."

She carried you to the crib, the one with the tall, unyielding bars, and laid you down gently. The mattress was cool beneath you, a stark contrast to the heat of your diaper. You whimpered, your fingers twisting in the sheets, but Mommy just shook her head.

"No, no, baby. You made this mess. You can stay in it a little while." She tapped your nose playfully, her eyes twinkling. "Besides, it’s almost naptime. And good boys nap in their sticky diapers, don’t they?"

You wanted to argue. Wanted to beg her to change you, to clean you up, to anything but leave you like this. But the look in her eyes brooked no argument. And deep down, beneath the embarrassment, beneath the discomfort, there was something else, a warm, fuzzy feeling, like the first sip of hot cocoa on a cold day.

Mommy tucked a blanket around you, her touch lingering on your shoulder. "Sleep well, baby," she said, her voice soft. "Mommy will check on you later."

And then she was gone, the door clicking shut behind her, leaving you alone with your thoughts and your very full diaper.

[dippersaurus]

Vol. 2 - Confessions from the Changing Table

Confession: I am much braver in theory than I am in real life.

In theory I am a very important crinkly prince of Plushveria. Ruler of blanket forts. Commander of the Hippo Guard. Brave explorer of biscuit cupboards. Official supervisor of cosy things.

In real life I can be completely defeated by one raised eyebrow and a soft little “come here, you.”

That is the dangerous thing about being little at heart.

You can be walking round pretending to be a proper adult. Paying bills. Doing emails. Making decisions. Wearing trousers like some sort of tax-paying citizen.

Then someone says something soft in the right voice and my brain drops all its paperwork.

Oops.

No thoughts.

Only blink blink.

The changing table, real or pretend, means a lot to me. Not just because of nappies, although yes, obviously, hello, crinkle boy reporting for duty.

It’s more the feeling of it.

Like... I don’t have to keep pretending.

I don’t have to be clever.

I don’t have to be in charge.

I don’t have to explain every tiny thing before I’m allowed to need help.

Someone just notices.

Someone checks.

Someone goes, “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”

And my whole body goes a bit quiet.

That’s the bit that gets me.

Not in a silly dramatic way. Well. Maybe a tiny bit dramatic, because I am me and the Plushie Council does love paperwork.

But it’s the care.

The kind of care where the babyish bits, the disabled bits, the overwhelmed bits, the shy bits, the “I don’t know how to ask” bits, don’t get treated like a problem.

They’re just part of me.

My wobbly hands. My tired brain. My shy face. My little habits. The way I sometimes need someone else to take over just enough so I can stop holding everything so tight.

No panic.

No disgust.

No making me feel bad for needing help.

Just care.

Soft care.

The kind where being looked after doesn’t make me less grown up. It just means somebody loves me enough to notice when I’m running out of brave.

And yes, sometimes that care is very silly.

Sometimes it’s being told the Plushie Council has reviewed my behaviour and decided I am overdue a change, a cuddle, and possibly a snack.

Sometimes it’s being called a soggy little prince and wanting to vanish under a blanket while also secretly glowing like a nightlight.

Sometimes it’s doing that very suspicious thing where I pretend I’m not loving every second.

The royal record will deny this.

Harvey Hippo has evidence.

I think I like the changing table idea because it’s the opposite of being left to just cope.

It’s a place where somebody sees the little “uh oh” signs before I can even explain them.

Where embarrassing things become normal because they’re handled gently.

Where being needy doesn’t make me too much.

Where I can be wriggly and shy and cared for without having to earn it by being impressive first.

And maybe that’s the real confession.

It’s not just that I like nappies.

It’s that I like the kind of love where even the softest, smallest, most helpless-feeling parts of me are still wanted.

Where I can be a little bit ridiculous and still be held.

Where I don’t have to be brave every second.

Where someone smiles and says, “There he is. That’s my sweet boy.”

And then my brain does the thing.

The very tiny thing.

The “oh no I have melted” thing.

Because I think part of me is always waiting to be told I did well.

Not in a big serious way.

Just in that little boy way where praise skips past my grown up brain and lands somewhere much softer.

The place that still wants to be good.

Still wants to be chosen.

Still wants to make someone proud.

So yes.

Confession from the changing table:

I am not as brave as I look.

I am much softer than I pretend.

And if you are gentle with me, I may become absolutely useless.

Possibly wriggly.

Possibly shy.

Possibly biscuit-bribable.

Definitely watched by Harvey Hippo.

He knows the truth.

And unfortunately he is very good at keeping records.

[datlittlewarrior]

(all characters are above 18) The bright yellow nursery smelled of baby powder and fresh laundry, its walls adorned with cheerful ABC blocks, cartoon kittens, and smiling teddy bears. Sunlight streamed through the lace-curtained window, casting a soft, innocent glow over the scene that made the humiliation all the more cruel.

Jake stood trembling inside the sturdy white wooden crib, his hands gripping the top rail so tightly his knuckles were white. His light blue button-down shirt was rumpled, and his brown pants bore a large, dark, unmistakable wet stain spreading across the crotch and down one leg. Tears streamed down his flushed cheeks as he sobbed openly, his body shaking with shame and desperation.

It had all started that afternoon. He and his cousin Emily had been alone in a room. One thing led to another (curiosity, hormones, stupidity) and he had touched her, tried to go further, tried to fuck her. Emily had screamed, pushed him away, and run straight to her mother, Aunt Margaret.

Now, here he was. Aunt Margaret had dragged him by the ear into the nursery, declared it “time-out in the baby crib for naughty little boys who can’t keep their hands to themselves,” and locked the side rail up with a firm click. She had ordered him to take a forced afternoon nap like the infant he was acting like. When he had begged and pleaded for the bathroom, banging on the crib bars and calling out in vain, no one came. His bladder had given out. He had wet himself helplessly right there in the crib, soaking his pants like a toddler who couldn’t hold it.

The door opened. Aunt Margaret stepped in, still wearing her pretty blue floral dress and crisp white ruffled apron, a string of pearls around her neck. In one arm she carried a thick stack of fluffy white terry cloth diapers. In her other hand dangled several oversized diaper pins with big, colorful babyish safety caps shaped like little ducks and teddy bears. A smug, mocking smile played on her lips as she looked at the crying boy in the crib.

“Tsk tsk tsk,” she clucked, shaking her head slowly. “Look at the ‘big boy’ who wet himself. Ugh? And you wanted to put your little dickie in my daughter? Ah ah ah…” She let out a light, condescending laugh that made Jake’s stomach twist.

Jake’s face burned with mortification. “Aunt Margaret, please… I’m sorry! It was an accident! I didn’t mean...I’m not a baby! Let me out, I’ll clean up, I swear!”

She ignored his pleas and approached the crib, her heels clicking on the hardwood floor. “You know the rules in this house, young man. You wet the bed...or the crib...so I put you back in diapers. That’s how it works for little boys who can’t control themselves.”

She laughed again, a bright, amused sound, as she set the stack of diapers down on the changing table nearby. “And only babies wear diapers! So from now on, it’s diapers day and night… and thick ones for sure! Lots of peepee and poopoos! You heard me!”

Jake’s eyes widened in horror. “No! Please, Aunt Margaret, don’t! I'I can’t wear diapers! This is so humiliating...please, I’ll do anything!”

But she only smiled wider. “And googoos too, sweetie. The only thing your little dick will see all summer long are thick, crinkly diapers to wet and hump. And yes, I will make you hump them right in front of Emily during tummy time. Count on it, boy!” She laughed again, clearly enjoying his growing panic.

Jake tried to climb out, fighting and struggling against the crib rails, but Aunt Margaret was faster and stronger than she looked. She reached in, hauled him over the rail with surprising ease, and delivered a series of hard, stinging spanks across his wet bottom that left him howling and kicking. “Bad baby! No fighting Mommy Margaret!”

After the spanking left him sobbing and subdued, she carried him to the diaper changing table and laid him down on his back like an infant. Jake pleaded and begged the entire time, tears flowing freely: “Please… please don’t do this… I’m begging you… I’ll never touch her again… don’t put me in diapers… I’m not a baby!”

Aunt Margaret paid no attention to his cries. She efficiently stripped off his soaked pants and underwear, leaving him completely exposed. Then came the full baby treatment. She slathered his bottom and private area with thick, greasy vaseline....paying special attention to his anus, pushing inside with a clinical finger while he squirmed and whimpered in utter shame. “This will keep you nice and slippery for all those messy diapers, baby.” Next came generous amounts of baby oil, followed by thick layers of diaper rash cream, and finally a heavy dusting of sweet-smelling baby powder that made him cough and blush even harder.

Only then did she begin the diapering. As he cried, she lifted his legs high, slid not one, but three thick terry cloth diapers underneath him, followed by an extra booster pad for maximum absorbency. She pulled them up snugly between his legs, making the bulk enormous and impossible to ignore. With practiced movements she fastened the whole massive bundle tightly with the large diaper pins, their colorful babyish safety caps clicking into place. Over everything she snapped on a pair of noisy, translucent plastic pants that crinkled loudly with every movement.

“There we go,” she cooed mockingly. “Such a thick, puffy baby bottom now. Perfect for a naughty little boy who tried to act grown-up.”

She wasn’t finished. She tied a large, oversized terry cloth bib around his neck, the kind with babyish embroidery, and popped a big pacifier with a long blue ribbon into his mouth, tying the ribbon behind his head so he couldn’t easily spit it out. Jake’s muffled sobs and desperate pleas continued around the pacifier: “Pwease… pwease no… I can’t… thith ith a nightmawe…”

Aunt Margaret smiled down at him lovingly, as if he really were her infant. “By the end of the summer, thanks to lots of vaseline, plenty of bottles, and constant diapering, you’ll have a tiny baby dick again. You’ll be wetting and messing your diapers just like a real baby...completely unable to hold it. I promise you that. I'll call my sister regularly to complain in have no choice as you wet and mess your diapers on your own. Ah ah! But i'll be true when she comes to take you back!"

She lifted him off the changing table and placed him back into the crib, raising the side rail with a decisive click. “Now you’ll spend the rest of the afternoon napping like a good baby. And this is just the beginning of your summer, little one. Morning naps, afternoon naps, and very long baby nights in your crib. You’ll be eating nothing but baby food from now on. Every single diaper change will be long, slow, and completely humiliating...right in front of whoever happens to be watching. Emily will also change you and spankin you! And yes, I promise I’ll expose you. Emily and her friends will see exactly what a diapered little baby you’ve become.”

Jake broke down completely, crying and begging through the pacifier, kicking his thickly padded legs uselessly against the mattress. “Nooo… pwease… I’m begging you… don’t tell anyone… don’t make me do thith all summer… it’th too humiliating… I can’t live like thith!”

Aunt Margaret paused at the nursery door, turning back with a sweet yet wicked smile. “Before I leave, I’ll tell you what’s next: I’m going straight to the sewing room with Emily. We’re going to make you the most humiliating baby clothes imaginable: frilly romper suits, short little baby dresses with matching diaper covers, bonnets, booties… everything a proper baby needs. You’ll be wearing them every single day.”

She blew him a mocking kiss as his desperate, tearful pleas and sobs filled the nursery. “Sweet dreams, baby Jake. This is going to be the longest, most infantile summer of your life. An absolute nightmare… and it’s only just beginning.”

The door clicked shut, leaving Jake alone in the crib, thickly diapered, bibbed, and pacified, his future filled with endless forced naps, baby food, public diaper changes, and relentless humiliation. The heavy, crinkling bulk between his legs was a constant, mortifying reminder that he was no longer a teenager. He was Aunt Margaret’s baby now...for the entire summer.

Ageplay / abdl / mdlb

[diaperdiscipline-deactivated202]

Diaper discipline for your partner when you’re not ready for 24/7

Many couples I speak to the diapered partner has a desire to be forced to wear 24/7 but either this isn’t practical in their lives or their partner isn’t ready to get that involved yet.

So I wanted to put together a short guide on how you can implement diaper discipline and forced regression in a ad hoc and none full time way.

With 24/7 diaper wearing the discipline & domination parts come significantly by you removing their toilet privileges in a near total way which results in it being the discipline they need. If you’re instead only going to make them wear on an ad-hoc basis then you need to make some changes.

First although they’re going to be wearing a lot less you need to be more involved when they are wearing. Secondly it has to be unpredictable for them. And finally it should be more intense than 24/7 wearing to make up for the reduced regularity of it.

I did this to my partner before we decided 24/7 was the right path so here as some tips to get you started.

Look for opportunities to make them wear diapers where it will be more embarrassing while still protecting their privacy

- Going on a day trip? Surprise them by diapering them in the morning and packing a diaper bag for them to carry.

- Long drive? Thick diapers are required.

- Staying with friends or family? Diaper them up for bed!

Force them to use their diapers

- Once or twice a week force them to mess their diapers with the help of suppositories, enemas or laxatives.

- Use locking clothes or diaper covers to prevent them from removing their diaper so they have to use it.

- Lock the door to the toilet in your home

- Don’t give them permission to use the toilet in public

- Make them lose control in a semi-public way. You don’t want to expose others to smelly diapers but giving them a suppository and sending them to get groceries or go out for a walk is a favorite of mine. Or hand a suppository for them to insert at the end of a meal out or when on a drive and still an hour or two away from home.

Take control of their first diapering, checks & changes

- Surprise them by walking into the room, with diaper supplies in hand, and diapering them there and then.

- Tell them that they can’t ask for checks or changes and do these yourself

- Check them in a physical way, making them drop their pants or lift skirt

Vary the amount of time they’re diapered

- Sometime it might just be overnight

- Other times enforce 24/7 diapers for up-to a week

- Don’t tell how long each session will last

Throw in extended 24/7 periods

- Going on a 1 or 2 week vacation? Surprise them by diapering them and telling them that you’ve packed no underwear for them.

- Got a quiet month at home? Tell them you’re going to test them being diapered full time for a bit

Make it more embarrassing

- Tease them when they’re diapered

- Threaten then with being made to wear 24/7

- Force them to use their diaper in front of you

- Make them have their diaper exposed in the house or enforce abdl clothing only

- Don’t change them until they leak and then switch to thicker diapers

- Use more babyish diapers or make a male partner wear girly diapers more

Combine diapers with other humiliation elements:

- Male partner? Dress them as a girl when diapered

- Use bondage alongside their diapers; restrain overnight in a spare bedroom, use a straightjacket & suppositories to make them feel helpless, shackle their ankles to their desk in an exposed diaper while working from home, use locking onesies and covers regularly

- Chastity! Lock them up while diapered and experiment with pegging

- Butt plugs? Going out but don’t want them to mess? Plug them up.

- Role play. Nurse & patient or teacher & school boy/girl work great with diapers

- Pull ups or abdl underwear when not diapered

Use forced regression alongside diapers as much as possible

- When at home and in diapers they should not be dressed as an adult. Onesies, shortalls, exposed diapers, baby dresses, etc…

- Use pacifiers and bottles regularly

- Make them wear a bib while eating. Or step things up and feed them yourself

- Tell them they’re a baby, only babies wear diapers, etc

- Turn a spare bedroom into a nursery simply by replacing the sheets, adding some plushies and keeping a few piles of diapers and supplies visible.

How much and when?

With all of these ideas to try the question comes up of how often should they be diapered and how do I decide when that should be (especially if not a natural mommy/daddy).

As a minimum I’d recommend they’re diapered 25% - 50% of each month. In terms of deciding when you should make them wear, I used to do this at the start of each month and week.

At the start of the month I’d look at our plans for the coming month and see if there were any big events to add diapers to. These for example might be a vacation where they could be diapered 24/7, a weekend away, day trips, etc.

Then each week I’d decide how to get 2-3 days of diaper wearing in. Normally this would involve at least a full day at the weekend as well as some nights and maybe a day when he was working from home. Try pick a mixture of at home and in public diaper wearing time.

For forced messing I’d think when would be best for this. A weekend day at home works well especially when using laxatives where the effects can last a while. Suppositories are easier to plan around and can be inserted as part of a diaper check.

For the rest feel free to plan in as much or little detail as you like but keep it a secret from them. I started with very detailed plans which became less detailed as a gained confidence in the mommy dom role.

A tip from me is I setup a separate calendar on my phone to keep track of when he should be diapered and used a simple code to keep it discrete, naming the calendar “chores”:

- cook = they’re diapered

- garbage = forced messing

- clean = diaper change

- break = diaper check

- Etc…

The beauty of this is I could have notification reminders on for all of these and it doesn’t give anything away even if somebody sees it. In the early days, these reminders for me to check and change him were very helpful.

Finally, remember when doing this that you want it to be embarrassing & inconvenient for them some of the time. With diaper discipline and forced regression it won’t work if it’s always fun for them so plan accordingly.

[nomorepantsforme]

Contract of Domestic Servitude as a Diapered Servant

I have designed the following draft for my latest diaper roulette. Therefore it contains several alternative provisions that cover different rolls in the roulette. Just select the corresponding provisions of this agreement and fill in the blanks according to your rolls, while striking the conditions that don´t apply. If you want to use this draft without the roulette, just fill in the blanks and strike any provision that you don´t want to apply.

Contract of Domestic Servitude

between

 ___________________________________     herein after “the servant”

and

 ___________________________________      herein after “the employer”

I.              Preamble

This is a voluntary agreement between consenting adults who wish to engage in a fetish-related role-playing scenario based on mutual consent.

Although this contract provides means of discipline and coercion, all of its provisions are to be understood as entirely voluntary in nature and may under no circumstances be exercised without the other party’s consent.

The purpose of this agreement is to determine the ground rules of the desired relationship between the parties and the extent to which they have expressed their consent.

Insofar as no other indication is given by the other party, all means provided in this agreement are to be understood as being covered by the respective party´s consent.

In order to avoid misunderstandings regarding the continued existence of this consent, the parties have agreed on the following signals and codewords to distinguish between utterances of displeasure within the confines of the respective role and an actual withdrawal of consent:

1.    ______________________

or if unable to speak: ______________________

With this signal or codeword the servant may indicate that there is a need to speak freely without the confines of the respective roles. When this signal is being used, the employer has to suspend the respective scene and must allow the servant to speak without restriction before the scene may be continued.

2.    ______________________

or if unable to speak: ________________________

With this signal or codeword the servant may indicate that the current scene has to stop since it is either not covered by the given consent or since the respective consent is about to be withdrawn. If this signal is being used, the employer must abort the respective scene immediately and may not exercise any provision of this agreement until the both parties have decided to continue.

Since this agreement does not actually constitute a legally binding service relationship, all services and compensations promised in this agreement are of an entirely voluntary nature and may neither be enforced in a court of law nor be used as a basis for compensation claims.

The boundaries and limitations set out in this agreement, however, and (in particular) the provisions on confidentiality, are legally binding declarations to the extent that any action violating these boundaries will be deemed to have been performed without proper consent.

II.  Main Obligations

§ 1 – Roles of the Parties

Throughout the entire duration of this agreement, the parties will exercise the following roles and obligations whenever they interact with each other:

a. Servant:

The submissive servant is required to perform the services specified in this agreement according to the instructions of the employer. In order to increase the dependency on the employer, the servant is required to wear and use diapers during all hours of service and may not use any other means to relieve itself while on duty. The servant has to obey all orders, provided that they are given in accordance with this agreement, and has to submit to all measures set out therein.

b. Employer:

The dominant employer is in charge of whichever tasks the servant is required to perform while on duty. Thus, the employer may decide which actions are to be performed at which time and in which manner. The employer may supervise the servant during all hours of service and has the authority to discipline the servant for any misbehavior according to the provisions set out in this agreement. In particular, the employer may ensure that the servant is always diapered while on duty and has full authority regarding the servant´s diaper training.

§ 2 – Types of Services provided by Servant

While on duty, the servant will provide the following services whenever it is requested by the employer:

a. Normal domestic services in a private setting,

in particular: cleaning, dusting, washing dishes, doing the laundry, helping in the kitchen; etc.

b. Chores involving the public

(e.g. buying groceries, taking out the trash, etc.), provided that sufficient measures are taken to make sure that neither the nature of this relationship nor the compromising details of the servant´s situation are revealed to anyone who is not privy to this information.

c. Serving and entertaining guests

(strictly non-sexual, unless explicitly stated otherwise), provided that the servant´s identity remains protected and that the employer can guarantee their secrecy.

d. Demeaning Tasks

tasks that are either pointless or degrading (e.g. serving as furniture, cleaning the floor with a toothbrush, etc.), provided that it takes place in a private setting.

e. Waste Disposal

Diapers worn by the servant may be used to dispose of leftovers.

f. Toilet Services

The servant may be ordered to offer its worn diaper as a mobile toilet.

g. Services for third parties

The servant may be ordered to offer any services listed above to a third party, provided that the servant´s identity remains protected and that the employer can guarantee the secrecy of all persons involved.

§ 3 – Service Hours

The servant has to be at the disposition of the employer during the following hours of service:

-       for up to _____ hours per week, divided in _____ sessions

-       during every weekend from ________________ till _________________

-       at every _________________ from _______________

        till ________________

-       whenever there are no other obligations (e.g. work, family, etc.)

The servant has to inform the employer in advance about any changes that might affect the availability of its services.

Insofar as the parties have not agreed on a detailed working schedule, the employer may request the other party´s services only with at least_____________ of prior notification.

§ 4 – Duties of Employer

The employer has to provide the servant with all items that are required for the successful execution of this contract. This includes inter alia any clothing items, accessories or diapers that the servant is required to wear, unless the parties have agreed that the servant may provide its own items.

In addition, the employer has to compensate the servant for its services according to the corresponding provisions in this agreement.

§ 5 – Compensation

In exchange for the services provided by the servant, the employer will offer the following forms of compensation:

-       Travel expenses (up to ________ per session)

-       A salary of _____________ per hour of service

-       A weekly salary of ____________ (including overtime)

-       A flat rate of ____________ per session

-       A weekly supply of diapers and baby food chosen by _______________

-       A daily ration of diapers and baby food chosen by _______________ for  every day of active service

-       No compensation whatsoever

The compensation is to be paid at the ___________ of every _____________.

III.              Authorizations and Restrictions

§ 6 – Dress code

The employer may order the servant to wear the following items while on duty:

- A diaper of at least __________ capacity, chosen by _____________

- Any type of diaper provided by the employer

- Any type of baby gear (e.g. pacifier, onesie, plastic pants, bib, bonnet, etc.) provided by the employer

- Any type of servant uniform (e.g. maid dress, butler uniform, etc.) provided by the employer

- None (the servant may be ordered to work naked while in private)

- Any type of butt plug that can be safely inserted

- Any type of bondage gear that is compatible with the respective tasks

-   ________________________________________________________

-   ________________________________________________________

Anything that is not specified may be chosen by the servant, provided that it is suitable for a normal domestic working relationship.

§ 7 – Diaper Training

To ensure that the servant has no other choice but to wear and use its diapers at all times while on duty, the following rules apply during all hours of service:

- The servant may not remove its own diapers without explicit permission of employer.

- The servant may not use any other means to relieve itself while on duty.

- The servant must use its diapers on command whenever it is required.

- The employer may check the state of the servant´s diaper at all times while in private.

- The servant must clearly announce whenever it has used its diaper, by loudly reciting the corresponding phrase dictated by the employer for the respective occasion (only while in private).

- The servant must drink at least ____________ at the beginning of each session.

- The servant may be ordered to drink up to ____________ per ____________ of service.

- The servant must drink any beverage provided by the employer, including beverages that have a stimulating effect on bladder and bowels (e.g. cranberry juice; prune juice; sauerkraut juice), insofar as it is compatible with the servant´s dietary needs.

- The employer may add oral laxatives (e.g. castor oil) to the food and drinks given to the servant up to __________ times per week (only the recommended dosage).

- The servant may be ordered to wear a hollow butt plug while on duty.

- The employer may stimulate the servant through its diaper (e.g. with a vibrating wand) while in private to either reward or humiliate the servant.

§ 8 – Hygienic Measures

The servant may request a diaper change only if its diaper is messy or on the verge of leaking. The diaper change must be granted within 1 hour of giving notice after fulfilling the changing requirements.

Otherwise, the employer has full authority regarding all hygienic measures and may inter alia enforce the following rules during all hours of service:

- The servant may be ordered at any time to change its own diapers and must do so without delay (sufficient privacy required).

- If ordered to do so, the servant must submit to a diaper change by somebody else (either the employer or a designated representative).

- The employer may at any time order the servant to take a bath / shower and may make sure that it is done properly.

- If ordered to do so, the servant must remove its pubic hair or must submit to having it removed by the employer or a designated representative.

- The servant may be ordered to apply certain skin care products (e.g. baby powder, lotion, barrier cream, etc.) or other fragrant products (e.g. parfum, deodorant, etc.) suitable for the respective occasion. If ordered to do so, the servant has to submit to having these products applied by somebody else.

§ 9 – Disciplinary Measures

Whenever the servant is disobedient, disrespectful or negligent, the employer may apply the following disciplinary measures to punish the servant according to the following provisions:

a. Spankings (on bare bottom and/or thighs)

-  Mild: up to 200 swats with hand or hairbrush

-  Medium: up to 500 swats with hand, hairbrush or paddle

-  Harsh: no maximum number of swats; additional implements (e.g. tawse, carpet beater)

Limits: No open wounds or lasting bruises!

b. No Diaper Changes

-  Mild: Diaper Change may be delayed till 3 hours after messing.

-  Medium: Up to 2 additional layers may be added that need to be filled in order to earn a diaper change. Diaper must be changed at end of session.

-  Harsh: The servant may be sent home in used diapers and may be forced to remain in them overnight by using lockable diaper covers or plastic pants (only if the servant may return the next morning to be released before there are any other obligations).

Limits: Precautions must be taken to avoid diaper rash!

c.  Timeout

-  Mild: Up to 1 hour of standing in the corner or sitting at a certain spot (in private).

- Medium: Up to 3 hours with restraints and blindfold.

- Harsh: The servant may be completely immobilized and restrained and/or locked into a cage, crib or playpen until it has to leave due to other appointments; this punishment may even exceed the normal working hours.

Limits: The servant must come to no physical harm; no interference with existing appointments!

d. Restraints

- Mild: The servant may be forced to wear a pacifier and may be prevented from speaking till end of session (only in private).

- Medium: The servant may be forced to wear cuffs, gags, bondage mittens, etc. till end of session (only in private).

- Harsh: The servant may be forced to wear heavy restraints (e.g. spreader bars, arm and leg binders, etc.) till end of session (only in private); lighter gear that may be hidden while in public may be kept indefinitely, insofar as it does not affect the servant in its daily life.

e. Forced Messing

- Mild: A small enema with warm saline solution (up to 500 ml)

- Medium: A punishment enema with soap and/or glycerin added to the saline solution (up to 2 liters in total)

- Harsh: The servant may be forced to drink up to 60 ml of pure castor oil.

f. Punishment Diapers

- Mild: Humiliating Inscriptions are added to the servant´s diapers and the servant is forced to keep them exposed while on duty (only while in private).

- Medium: The servant´s diaper is filled with ice cubes, oat meal or other similarly uncomfortable substances till the end of the session.

- Harsh: The servant is forced to wear its latest used diaper as a diaper hood for up to 30 min.

g. Punishment Tasks

-  Mild: The servant is forced to write up to 500 lines relating to its shortcomings.

- Medium: The servant is forced to do a demeaning task or pointless busywork that it would not be required to do otherwise (e.g. cleaning the floor with a toothbrush).

§ 10 – Maximum number of punishments per violation

Unless explicitly specified otherwise, the employer may only apply the following number of punishments per violation committed by the servant:

-       Up to ___ mild punishments, _____ [and/or]

-       Up to ___ medium punishments, _____ [and/or]

-       Up to ___ harsh punishments.

-       Any number of mild or medium punishments ______ [and/or] up to ____ harsh punishments.

-       Any number of punishments that the employer deems appropriate.

IV.              Leverage

§ 11 – Compromising Photos and Videos

To ensure that the servant actually fulfills its contractual obligations, the employer may hold onto the following compromising materials as long as this agreement is in effect:

-       Up to ______ pictures of the servant posing with exposed diapers while wearing its usual uniform (face must be visible; servant may be required to use diapers first)

-       Up to ______ pictures and videos of the servant performing its duties.

-       Any number of photos and videos documenting how the servant is being punished.

-       Any number of photos and videos (no restrictions)

§ 12 – Enforced Chastity

The employer may force the servant to wear a suitable chastity device and may withhold the key until the servant has fulfilled its end of the contract.

In case of prolonged chastity, the employer must make sure that the device it properly cleaned whenever it is required.

§ 13 – Breach of Contract

If the servant ever attempts to break this contract by refusing its services without reasonable cause, the employer may take the following measures after explicitly warning the servant about what is going to happen, if the servant continues to refuse its services:

-       The employer may upload up to _______ pictures or videos per _____ to an online exposure site without revealing the servant´s identity.

-       The employer may send up to ______ pictures or videos to up to ______ of the servant´s peers that have been specified by the servant for this purpose.

-       The employer may post any number of photos and videos and reveal the following types of information about the servant: _______________________ _____________________________________.

 V.            Safeguards and Limits

§ 14 – Interaction with public

Whenever the servant is required to go into public, all compromising parts of its uniform have to remain hidden. This includes worn diapers and accessories, insofar as there is even a remote chance that the servant might be spotted by someone who knows its identity.

Sufficient precautions must be taken to make sure that no third party is molested and that public decency is not violated.

§ 15 – Confidentiality

The employer has to make sure that the servant´s identity is protected at all times and that no information about the nature of this relationship and the servant´s role in it is revealed to any third parties.

Insofar as this agreement explicitly allows the employer to involve third parties into the relationship (e.g. as guests, as representatives or as service recipients) the employer may only choose persons who have no relation to the servant and who do not know anything about its identity.

Whenever third parties are involved, the employer must ensure their secrecy in regard to anything that they are about to witness.

The employer is responsible for any damages that occur if the servant´s identity is revealed against its will or if a third party who already knows the servant´s identity learns about the nature of this relationship or the servant´s role in it.

§ 16 – General Limitations

None of the provisions of this agreement may be exercised in any manner that would be illegal or violate public decency.

The servant´s well-being must be protected at all times and the servant may not be required to perform or to submit to any task that would pose a threat to its physical well-being.

VI.           Contract Duration

§ 17 – End of Contract

This agreement and all of its provisions remain in full effect until

-       It is terminated by one of the parties.

-       _____________________________

§ 18 – Termination

The servant may terminate this agreement according to the following provisions:

-       In case of any breach of confidentiality or any other violation of the limits set out in this agreement, the servant may terminate the contract immediately without any cancellation period.

-       In case of personal changes that prevent the servant from properly fulfilling its tasks according to this agreement (e.g. new job, family, health) the servant may terminate the contract with at least _________________ of prior notification.

-       Without specific reason with at least _______________ of prior notification.

The employer may terminate the agreement according to the following provisions:

-       In case of severe violations committed by the servant that may not be corrected with the means of discipline that have been provided in this agreement, the employer may terminate the contract immediately without any cancellation period.

-       If the servant has withdrawn its consent to main aspects of this agreement, the employer may terminate the agreement without any cancellation period, if no other agreement is made that will take its place.

-       In case of personal changes that prevent the employer from properly fulfilling its role in this relationship (e.g. having to move away, family, etc.) the employer may terminate this agreement with at least _________________ of prior notification.

-       Without specific reason with at least __________________ of prior notification.

 VII.          Closing Provisions

§ 19 – Changes and Amendments

Any changes of or amendments to this agreement that would extend its scope or the powers provided in it must be documented in writing to become effective.

Any other changes, including the withdrawal of consent, take effect immediately, but need to be documented in writing as soon as possible to make sure that they can be proven afterwards

§ 20 – Salvatory Clause

If a provision of this agreement is or becomes legally invalid or if there is any gap that needs to be filled, the validity of the remainder of the agreement shall not be affected thereby. Invalid provisions shall be replaced by common consent with such provisions which come as close as possible to the intended result of the invalid provision. In the event of gaps such provision shall come into force by common consent which comes as close as possible to the intended result of the agreement, should the matter have been considered in advance.

   _______________________                       _______________________

               Servant                                                            Employer

[padded-piss-pup]

Oh to be forcibly age regressed...

Someone please tape me into a thick fluffy diaper and treat me like I'm dumb 🥴 please talk down to me and tell me I'm too little for words and pop a pacifier in my mouth 🫣 don't let me walk around, make me crawl on my hands and knees, and especially don't let me anywhere near the bathroom - after all, only big kids use the potty, and big kids don't use their diapers!

[regressionschool]

"Did you like your regression class, Ella?"

The question hung in the air, thick and unanswered. Ella didn’t stir from her spot on the floor, her blue onesie, decorated with tiny cartoon animals, stretched over her thick, sagging diaper. The fabric clung to the bulging padding between her legs, the plastic backing crinkling softly as she shifted her weight, her thumb planted firmly in her mouth. Her eyes, glazed and half-lidded, stared blankly at the ceiling. A slow, rhythmic suck filled the room, the only sound besides the occasional squeak of her diaper as she wiggled.

"Do you even remember how to use the potty anymore, sweetheart?"

Ella’s response was a muffled gurgle, her cheeks puffing out around her thumb. Her free hand twitched, fingers flexing against the carpet before patting absently at the swollen mound between her thighs. The diaper was heavy, sagging with the weight of her last accident, the padding warm and damp against her skin. She didn’t seem to notice, or care, how the wetness had seeped through the layers, how the plastic rustled with every tiny movement. Her mind was too far gone, too wrapped up in the comfort of her regression.

"Or do you just like being a messy little baby now?"

A soft, contented sigh escaped her lips. Her legs spread slightly, her knees falling open as she rolled onto her back, the diaper cradling her like a second skin. The onesie rode up just enough to expose the tape tabs peeking out from the waistband, the plastic backing glinting under the light. Ella’s fingers found their way to the front of her diaper, pressing gently, feeling the squish of the soaked padding beneath her touch. She cooed, her hips lifting just a little, as if testing the weight, the fullness.

"Is that why you’re not even trying to hold it anymore?"

Her thumb popped out of her mouth just long enough to let out a happy, drooly giggle. She kicked her feet, her socks sliding against the carpet, her diaper shifting with the movement. The scent of her accident, warm, musky, unmistakably babyish, filled the air, but Ella didn’t react. She didn’t wrinkle her nose or try to cover herself. Instead, she grabbed the front of her onesie, tugging it down just enough to expose the wetness indicator, a bright blue stripe that told anyone who looked: Yes, she’d used it. Yes, she was a good little girl.

"You’re not even embarrassed, are you?"

Ella’s giggle turned into a full-blown babyish laugh. She rolled onto her stomach, her diaper squelching with the movement, her bottom wiggling in the air. Her fingers dug into the carpet, her knees spreading wider, as if she were showing off, proud of her soggy state. She didn’t try to hide it. She didn’t try to fix it. The idea of the potty, of being dry, of being big, it was all too far away, too complicated. All that mattered was the warmth between her legs, the way her diaper hugged her, the way it made her feel safe. Small. Owned.

"What happens when you can’t even remember what it’s like to be dry?"

Ella’s answer was another happy gurgle, her body relaxing into the floor, her diaper cradling her like a nest. She didn’t need words. She didn’t need to think. She just needed to be, a little girl, a baby, someone who didn’t have to worry about anything but the next time her diaper would be changed. Or, better yet, the next time she’d fill it.

And as the silence stretched on, it was clear: Ella wasn’t coming back from this. Not today. Maybe not ever.

[babydou15]

A little extra motivation

I’ve been asked a few times how I got my little guy into enjoying babyfood, or at least without too much whining. (See a first post about this here).

It has for sure been the most difficult for him to get used to, but he’s now doing such a good job. One of the tricks I quickly put in place is to use Mr Buzzy while feeding him.

It’s simple. Get dinner ready, put a bib around his neck and start feeding him. If there’s any whining, take out the buzzy wand and stick it in place onto his diaper. Then, keep feeding him and you will see that the focus isn’t on the food anymore…

I do it more often nowadays so that babyfood becomes a moment of pleasure. It’s all about associating things correctly.

And if he makes stickies because buzzy has been “mistakenly” set up too high, just pretend like nothing happened. After all, it’s a big effort Daddy is making as well. Luckily only happened once because this little peepee is always safely locked under thick padding, and it takes a particularly pent up little for him to make stickies through all that. 😉

- Daddy

[resonantyes]

Releasing ABDL Shame

I recently got a private message on Fetlife from a new guy-friend who, like me and so many others have, is struggling with the guilt and shame of having ABDL interests, particularly in light of his outward masculinity.  I thought I would repost my advice here in case it can be of any help to our Tumblr friends… while we aren’t by any means experts on shame or self-care, I thought perhaps my thoughts could help others.

—

For me, there have been a couple of core concepts that have helped me release that shame and guilt. I’ll share them here in full knowledge that these aren’t the kinds of things that seep in overnight: it took me a couple of years to deeply internalize them, and even today I have to remind myself at times that I lose self-compassion or feel threatened. So, be kind to yourself… this kind of self-integration is a process, and by reaching out to others you have started it brilliantly. Kudos for your bravery!

Everyone is masculine and feminine.

Seriously, we all contain both of these energies and their requisite traits in spades. Our culture tells us a lot about how we should feel, how each gender should act, etc., but most of it is polarized nonsense for the sake of quick characterization. (One researcher refers to it as a “social role heuristic,” basically a shortcut to understand where we fit in the pecking order). For a couple hundred millennia, males have been depended upon to be bigger, physically stronger, hunt, etc., and females have been depended upon to bear and nurse children, gather provisions, nurture community support, etc., and our cultural standards have developed around these necessities. Unfortunately, we have also lumped a whole lot of psychological concepts into these functional realities as our societies have gotten more complex and our ability to abstract has improved. So big/strong/independent has turned into a role and bear/gather/nurture has turned into a role which eventually turned into a set of beliefs which eventually turned into our concept of gender.

All that to say, you are both. You are strong and independent and tough and assertive. You are also soft, open, in need of love, tender, small, and weak. Both are true, and neither requires the other to go away in order for itself to exist. As Walt Whitman famously wrote, “I am large. I contain multitudes.” I go to work, I make command decisions, sometimes I guide millions of dollars and hundreds of jobs with my choices… and when I come sometimes I want to get diapered and taken care of, and both are equally awesome. Neither requires the other one to go away in order to be true. You need to be taken care of, just like everybody else, and don’t let the business suit or power play trick you into thinking you need to polarize. You don’t. Go kick ass during the day, come home and Little-out at night. Or vice versa. You are contain multitudes.

You are not broken.

Man, this is the crux of it. Sexuality is impossibly complex, and it exists at such a fundamental level in our brain development and evolution… it pre-dates conscious thought, and our conceptualizations of our sexuality are merely best-guesses at trying to characterize something wholly abstract and base-functioning.

To think of sexualities, regardless of how culturally deviant, as being character flaws or mistakes is to miss how sexuality works. If you don’t believe me, look at the NIH-funded studies that demonstrated how easy it is to create a lemon fetish in rats. Are these rats morally corrupt? Are they broken? Are they perverts? Are they broken? Nope… their sexual development happened to overlap with a sensory stimulus and they ended up with a fetish. Awesome. Anybody got any guesses on why men are attracted breasts? Yup. Because that’s how that works.

There is nothing wrong with you. There never was. Your sexuality may be different than most people you know, but it’s not broken.  There is no normal sexuality, and I guarantee that you are surrounded by dozens of men and women at work who have sexual fetishes, bizarre interests, turn-ons and practices that they work hard to hide from the world.

You deserve to try to be happy.

The pursuit of happiness is, as the US Declaration of Independence so eloquently puts it, an inalienable right. I think it’s an inherent trait; a motivational force built into each of us in some degree that drives behavior. So goddamnit, if something makes you happy and you can do it without violating others’ right to their pursuit of happiness, go after it. Few things make me as happy as diapering my wife, and few things make me feel as loved as being diapered. So I’m going to do it a lot; it’s fantastic. If I’m not doing it enough, I’m going to create time, and if I find I’m doing it too much, I’ll back it off, as it isn’t actually making me happy. Your pursuit of something that makes you happy isn’t just nice, it’s essential to embracing your own beautiful humanity. So fucking run after it; find your thing, and do it a lot. If your partner isn’t game, that’s OK… he/she doesn’t have to be, and he/she has a right to pursue happiness too, and you guys can work out how that will work for you. Pursuing happiness is part of valuing your own humanity; if you would want it for a friend, you can want it for yourself.

Let shame teach you, then let it go.

Shame and fear researcher Brenè Brown says it better than I ever could in her TED talk on shame:

“In surviving this last year, I was reminded of a cardinal rule — not a research rule, but a moral imperative from my upbringing — “you’ve got to dance with the one who brung ya”. And I did not learn about vulnerability and courage and creativity and innovation from studying vulnerability. I learned about these things from studying shame. And so I want to walk you in to shame. Jungian analysts call shame the swampland of the soul. And we’re going to walk in. And the purpose is not to walk in and construct a home and live there. It is to put on some galoshes — and walk through and find our way around.”

It’s OK to feel it.  It’s OK really dislike that feeling, too.  But let it teach you; let it tell you about your beliefs and your contradictions without judging yourself for feeling those things.  Then, when you’re ready, choose to begin to step out of it.  Avoiding shame (like avoiding any feeling) just compresses it into a more potent version of itself, and it comes out in dark and unpredictable ways.  Don’t try *not* to be shameful, but rather ask what it teaches you about yourself, then choose to replace shame with compassion as you walk out of the swamp.

I hope this is helpful, and I’m really glad you reached out; that moment of vulnerability is a moment of profound creative and renewing energy.

My Best,

RY

[tee-babymax]

I walked into his room, turned on the light and I saw this. Someone must be remembering his big boys days while watch a Disney movie. Moments like this it makes me glad to be a mother watching my baby slowly lose his pride. I let him do this for a few more minutes before I actually give him a nice spanking and put him back in bed.