đŒMy â NSFWâĄ18+ Little Spaceđ Little Age Regressor at heart, I'm AB, AC & DL and into ageplayđŒ if you want to message me plz add and the end of the message add the color of a rose..
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Author's Note: All characters depicted in this work of fiction are 18 years of age or older. Readers should also be 18+ only!Â
Bryce stirred at the sound of Kendraâs voice beside him. âHey, hon⊠itâs happened again.â
For a second, he didnât know what she meant. Then the cool dampness between his legs registered. A sick, clammy patch under his thighs. Sheets clinging to his skin.Â
Not again. Please not again.
He sat up. The sheet dragged across his skin with a slow, sticky pull. âIâIâve just been stressed, you know? The job stuff, and your mom breathing down our necks⊠Iâm sure itâll stop once things calm down.â His voice was low, half-hoarse. He glanced at her. At the dark circle that might actually be touching her. âDid itâŠ?âÂ
âNot this time.â She rolled onto her side and rubbed her eyes. âWeâll need to strip it. Again. Iâll start the coffee. Can you toss everything in the wash?â
He nodded. âActuallyâlet me do the coffee.â He sat up straighter, grasping at the thread of something useful. The sheets needed to be laundered, but that was just cleaning up his own mess. Bringing things back to baseline. âYou just relax. Iâll make it how you like. Two sugars, oat milk, little cinnamon on top? Iâll even bring it back here. Breakfast in bed, maybe?â
She gave him a long, flat look. Then her eyes slid down to the dark patch soaking through the sheet. âIn this bed?â
Shame crawled up his neck. âIâll take care of it,â he said, standing. âYou go sit on the couch, I guess. Iâll⊠yeah.â
Kendra stood, pulling on an old hoodie and stepping into her sandals. She didn't say anything else as she padded out of the bedroom.
Bryce peeled back the covers. The fitted sheet clung to the vinyl mattress protector underneath, making a pop as it released a corner. The protector crinkled loudly with every movement. Theyâd put it on the bed a few weeks ago, when the occasional âaccidentsâ had started to become less occasional. He slipped out of the soaked underwear and into a fresh pair, then he balled the sheets, pillowcases and all, and gathered his pee-soaked underwear in the middle and carried it all into the hallway.
And there she was.
Diane stood at the end of the hall, dressed in a pressed blouse and dark jeans, holding a Tupperware container and a canvas tote. She was tall, imposing, with her silver-streaked hair pulled back into a low, severe ponytail. Not an ounce of softness to her posture. Her eyes dropped to the bundle in Bryceâs arms. Then roseâslowlyâto meet his.
His stomach flipped. He froze, damp sheets clutched to his chest. âIâuhâjust had a bit of a spill,â he said. âCoffee. You know.â
Diane raised one eyebrow. Her lips didnât move. She glanced past him toward the open bedroom door. Then back at him. Then she looked toward the kitchen. Kendra stood there, holding two mugs.
âMom. Hey. Youâre early.â
âI was dropping off flyers for the fair. Thought Iâd say hi. But I see youâve got your hands full.â Dianeâs tone was measured. She didnât look at Kendra when she said it.
Bryce swallowed. The sheets shifted in his arms. One corner sagged just enough for a small dark stain to peek through.
Diane didnât step aside as Bryce tried to move past her, so he gave her the smallest possible nod and squeezed through sideways, the wet bundle pressed awkwardly to his chest.
âI was actually stopping by to collect the lot fee, as well,â she said, turning slightly to address Kendra. âItâs the sixth.â
Kendra froze, mug halfway to her lips. âBryce said he dropped it off Monday.â
Bryce winced. âIâmeant to. I was working on some new sticker sets andââ
âYou forgot,â Kendra said.
âI didnât forget.â He shifted the bundle. A cold drip hit the top of his foot. âI was gonna swing by yesterday, but I got caught upââ
âWith your sticker business,â Diane said. âOf course.â
He flinched at the tone. Not sharp. Just⊠dry. Appraising.
She turned back toward the kitchen. âWell. I hope youâre not planning to stand there dripping coffee on the floor all morning.â
The laundry nook was just off the kitchen, tucked behind a pair of bifold doors that never quite closed all the way. Bryce shoved the sheets into the drum, sloshing them around with a grimace. His underwear thudded in after them. The smell of pee and detergent rose up.
From the kitchen, voices carried. âI know itâs been a rough stretch,â Diane was saying. âBut enough is enough. You deserve better than this, honey.â
âMomâŠâ Kendra sighed. âItâs not that simple.â
âHeâs not a bad person,â Diane said. âBut thatâs not the same as being a good partner.â
Bryce froze with his hand on the washer dial.
He waited. He wanted to hear Kendra disagree. Push back. Say somethingâanything.
âHeâs trying,â she said softly.
He stood there for a moment, blinking hard. Then twisted the dial and slammed the lid shut. The machine kicked on with a lurch, water rushing in loud and fast. He came back into the kitchen, breath tight in his chest, half an argument already lined up in his head.
Kendra was reaching into the dishwasher. She pulled out a mug, turned it in her hand, and frowned. There was a cloudy line of grit around the rim. She set it on the counter and reached for another. Same problem. âYou said youâd fixed this,â she said. âTheyâre still coming out gross.â
âI did fix it,â Bryce said. âI ran a cycle with vinegar, and the hose is clearââ
âItâs not fixed if we canât drink out of them,â Kendra snapped.Â
âSorry,â he mumbled.Â
She sighed. âNo, Iâm sorry. Iâm justâtired. Never mind. Itâs fine.â
Diane gave her daughter a quiet look. Then looked at Bryce. âIf you two want to keep living here, things are going to change.â
âIâll get you the rent right now,â Bryce said, stepping toward the small cabinet where they kept mail and bills.Â
âI already give you that lot at cost,â Diane said. âNo one else in this park gets that rate. The least you can do is pay on time.â
âYeah,â he muttered. âI know.â What he wanted to say was that it wasnât generosity. It was leverage. A way to keep them tethered, grateful, under her thumb. He didnât say that either, because they were tethered. They couldnât afford this place without her.
Diane slipped the Tupperware into the fridge like she lived there, then set her tote on the counter. âWeâre getting the field ready for the fair. Iâve got a volunteer group working all week. Weâre doing landscaping, repairs, a full cleanup push. I want to make the park shine this year.â She looked at Bryce, not smiling. âSince youâre not working right now, I expect you to pitch in. Full days. Orientation tonight.â
He opened his mouth, closed it, looked at Kendra.Â
She was wiping at a mug with a dish towel, jaw tight.
Diane didnât wait for a response. She adjusted her bag on her shoulder and gave Kendra a brief kiss on the cheek. âIâll see you tonight,â she said, and gave Bryce one final glance before heading out the door.
The screen banged once behind her.
Bryce exhaled slowly. âYou couldâve told me she was coming.â
âShe wasnât supposed to come in,â Kendra said, then shook her head. âShe just shows up. But sheâd stop by less if you remembered to pay the rent on time, you know.â
âI said Iâm sorry. Wonât happen again.â
âIâm not the one you need to convince. You can tell her again tonight.â
âHer little chore group?â He laughed. âNo way am I going to that.â
âYouâre not working, Bryce.â
âIâm working on the business.â
âYouâre doodling, Bryce. Youâve been working on the same four sticker designs all week. You havenât mailed anything. You havenât ordered vinyl. The cutting machineâs still unplugged.â
âIâm prepping,â he said. âFor the fair. Iâll sell enough to get us out of here. For real.â
Kendra set the mug down harder than she needed to. âIâm not going to argue with you about this,â she said. âYou need to show up tonight. Itâs not a request.â
He leaned against the counter, arms folded. âWe could leave,â he said. âFind a sublet. Crash with Jen and Art for a while. They have that guest room fixed up now. Youâre acting like thereâs no other optionââ
âThere is no other option, Bryce. Unless youâre hiding rent money somewhere.â She didnât say it cruelly. That was the worst part. She said it like it was just true. Just simple math.
He stared at the floor. âSo thatâs it.â
She didnât answer.
He ran a hand through his hair and muttered, âFine. Iâll go.â
Chapter 2
The trailer park clubhouse smelled like lemon cleaner and microwaved hot dogs, with an undercurrent of plastic chairs and old astroturf carpet. The walls were beige, but covered in cheerful flyersâmost of them about the fair: raffle prizes, talent show, âfamily fun.â Folded tables had been pushed into a rough semicircle at the center of the room, surrounded by mismatched chairs. Someone had taped construction paper stars along the windows. Heâd always avoided the place. It was Dianeâs domain, and the only other people who hung out there regularly were the âlifersâ: The grizzled old guys who played cribbage and the womenâs knitting-and-gossiping circle.
Today, though, there were maybe a dozen guys inside, all roughly his age or older, dressed in what looked like⊠some kind of uniform. Khaki shorts, tucked-in sky-blue polo shirts with a yellow neckerchief. Each also wore a sash with cheerful, cartoon-ish patches sewn on: a diaper pin, a mop, a smiling sun, a teddy bear. One guy wore ankle socks with little ruffles.
Bryce stopped in the doorway. What the hell was this?
He didnât get long to think about it. A cheery voice cut across the room. âYou must be Bryce!âÂ
All eyes turned toward him.
An attractive young woman walked toward him with a clipboard in one hand and a tote bag slung over her shoulder. She was maybe mid-twenties, with honey-blonde hair in a loose braid, a polo with a green sash, and perfect posture that made her seem taller than she was. âIâm Leah,â she said. âSo glad you made it.â
She guided him in with a light touch to his backâgentle but firmâand motioned toward an open chair near the middle.
Diane stood at the front of the room beside a fold-out whiteboard, holding a printed schedule.
âThank you all for being here,â she said, her voice even and calm. âThis park deserves better than itâs had in years. And with the fair coming up, I want every guest who visits to see just how special Sunny Glen really is.â
A few of the guys nodded enthusiastically. One clapped.
âWeâve got a full week ahead, and youâre all here because youâve proven you can be trusted with responsibility and follow-through. This is about more than serviceâitâs about structure.â
She gestured toward Bryce. âThis is Bryce. Heâll be joining you for the week. Letâs make him feel welcome.â
They did. A chorus of friendly âHey man,â âWelcome,â and âNice to meet youâ filled the space. One guy even waved both hands.
Bryce gave a small, awkward smile. His ears felt hot.
Diane handed the floor to Leah. âOur Chapter Matron will go over assignments.â
The phrase landed in Bryceâs brain like a plate. Chapter Matron?
Leah smiled like she was introducing a camp activity. âLetâs remember our rules tomorrow: stay hydrated, stay positive, and ask for help before you need it. If your Buddy needs a check-in, be proactive.â
Bryce blinked. What?
A few guys nodded solemnly. One raised his hand and asked about stickers for âhelping without being asked.â Leah told him he was already on the list.
Bryce shifted in his seat, suddenly aware of how underdressed he felt in his t-shirt and jeans. Not that he wanted one of these weird, Boy Scout-adjacent uniforms. He leaned toward the guy next to him, trying to whisper. âWaitâsorryâwhat is this?â
The guy beamed and extended a hand. âTrevor! Iâm your Behavior Buddy.â
Trevor had a lot of patches on his sash. Maybe more than anyone else there.Â
âOh. Cool. UmâŠâ Bryce shook his hand. âI think I mightâve missed the memo here. Are you guys, like, a Lionâs Club offshoot or something?â
âYou donât know about DIP?â
âDip? LikeâŠfor chips?â
Trevorâs eyes sparkled. âNo way! Thatâs wild. Miss Dianeâs, like, a rockstar in our circles. I figured she wouldâve told you all about it.â
Bryce squinted. âCircles?â
âDIP!â Trevor said, as if it were obvious. âDiaperboy Improvement Program. Weâre all about second chances, structure, and personal growth. Guys like usâwe do better with guidance, you know?â
Bryce opened his mouth, then closed it again. Did he say âdiaperboyâ?
Trevor kept going, totally unfazed. âWe help with community stuffâcleanup, volunteering, support visitsâbut itâs not just chores. Itâs about improving ourselves. We set goals, track progress, earn badges. We learn to accept help. And yeah, we all wear diapers. But itâs not weirdâitâs, like, freeing.â He grinned. âYouâll see.â
Bryce didnât know where to look or what to do with his hands. He tried to keep his expression neutral. Trevor was still talkingâsomething about hydration tracking chartsâbut it was starting to blur together.
Bryce nodded when appropriate. Smiled once or twice. Said âgotchaâ even though he didnât. It wasnât Trevorâs fault. The guy was nice. Too nice. Enthusiastic in a way that made Bryce feel like a problem someone was excited to solve.
After a few minutes of small talk and logistical chatter about the weekâs work schedule, Bryce excused himself, mumbling something about needing to prep dinner.
Trevor gave him a cheerful wave. âDonât forgetâdiaper check-ins at 7:45 sharp!â
Bryce didnât respond. Just pushed open the clubhouse door and stepped into the cooling evening air. He shoved his hands in his pockets and walked home fast, heart thudding, brain spinning.
The trailer looked the same as alwaysâsun-faded siding, a crooked wind chime knocking around under the awning. Normal. Safe.
He opened the door and stepped inside.
Kendra was curled up on the couch, legs tucked beneath her. She had a book in one hand and a mug in the other. The bookâs cover caught his eye: Woman Unbound: Shaping Our Female Future.
He blinked. âWhat is that?â
She didnât look up. âItâs from my mom. Something they read in SHINE.â
âSHINE?âÂ
âA group to help young women step into leadership roles.â
He shook his head, closed the door behind him, and kicked off his shoes. âOkay, so, youâre not gonna believe what this DIP thing actually isâŠâ
She listened quietly while he explained. The uniforms. The badges. The diapers. The âBuddyâ system.
âI thought it was just, like, picking up trash or whatever. Community service. But theyâre treating it like itâs this whole lifestyle thing. Structure and behavior modification andâlike, there was a diaper change station set up in the corner with these huge diapers.â
Kendra nodded slowly, flipping a page in her book. âI know.â
He stared at her. âYou knew?â
She set the book in her lap and finally looked at him. âMom gave me the welcome package this morning while you were dealing with the bedding.â
He opened his mouth to argue, but she pointed to the counter behind him. There was a paper bag sitting next to the fruit bowl. Branded with a cartoon sun and the words Welcome to DIP! Weâre So Glad Youâre Here.
âWere you going to tell me?â he asked.Â
âIâm telling you now. Why donât you take a look at the welcome package?
He picked it up, opened it, and pulled out the contents one by one:
A soft, mint-green pacifier on a plastic clip.
A small stuffed dinosaur, floppy and plush.
A stack of laminated schedule cards with clip art stars.
A sheet of cartoon-style stickersâbadges for things like âHelpful Attitudeâ and âMommyâs Lil Helper.â
And a spiral-bound booklet with a bright cover: The DIP Handbook: Guidelines for Growth and Obedience.
He held up the sticker sheet, squinting at the print quality. âThese are garbage,â he muttered. âLike, terrible DPI. Whoâs printing these?â
Kendra didnât respond. She just watched him, lips pressed together, unreadable.
He pulled the last four items from the bag: khaki shorts with an elastic waistband, a blue polo shirt, a white undershirt with buttons in the crotch--a âonesieâ he thought they called it--and a sash. The only patch on the sash was two short legs and the words âFirst Stepsâ stitched below.
She set her book aside again. âThe first guideline is diapering you for bed.â
He laughed. âCome on. Thatâs not real.â
Her expression twitchedâguilty, maybe. âI mean⊠yeah. Itâs weird. But if we just go along with it for now, itâll get Mom off our backs.â
âKendra, seriouslyââ
âShe said sheâll be checking in.â Kendra stood and stretched. âLetâs just do this and get through the week. Then we can revisit after that.â She walked toward the bedroom.Â
He hesitated a moment, then followed.
A folded changing mat was laid out on the comforter, and beside it, a thick, white diaper sat waiting like a dare. The landing zone was printed with soft cartoon clouds and a sleepy bear holding a bottleâBrightbums Comfy Cub, according to the packaging in the corner.
He stopped in the doorway. âYou already set this up?â
âShe dropped off a case of diapers this afternoon. Or, rather, she had one of your new buddies drop them.âÂ
âTheyâre not my buddies,â Bryce muttered.
Kendra walked over and opened the diaper, smoothing it across the mat. âItâs just for nighttime.â
âThatâs not the point.â
âI know.â She patted the bed. âCâmon.â
He didnât move.
She raised an eyebrow. âYou said it yourselfâyouâve been stressed. The sheets are trashed. You want to wake up soaked again tomorrow?â
He stared at the diaper like it might jump up and bite him. âFine.â
He lay down stiffly, arms folded over his chest. The mat crackled under his back.
Kendra knelt on the edge of the bed. She pulled his jeans down, then his boxers, folding them neatly and setting them aside. The air in the room felt colder than before. He flinched as the wipes hit his skinâcool and damp, with a sharp scent of aloe and alcohol.
The Comfy Cub was thicker than he expected. She lifted his legs with one hand and slid it beneath him, then tugged it into place and taped it snug around his hips. The tapes gave a dull rip-snap sound as she pressed them down. It wasnât rough. It sure as hell wasnât sexy. It was efficient.
âThere,â she said, standing. âDone.â
He stayed still, staring at the ceiling. The padding between his legs forced them slightly apart. When he shifted, the plastic surface of the diaper crinkled.Â
âStay there,â she said, and left the room.
He heard her rummaging around in the kitchen. She returned with the green stuffed dinosaur and set it beside him on the bed. âThey recommend you use this to talk through frustrations.â
He looked at it. Then at her. âYouâre kidding.â
âIâm not.â
âHow about I print a picture of your momâs face on it and use it as a voodoo doll?â
âItâs part of the adjustment process,â she said, ignoring his snark. âHelps establish new routines.â
âI donât need a routine. I needâwe needâmoney so we can get out of here. I mean, I always knew your mom was crazy, but all of this?â
She gave a small shrug. âThen donât use it.â
He groaned and rubbed his eyes. âOkay. So now what?â
âYou could read the handbook,â she said, already halfway to the door.
He scoffed.
âOr you could fix the dishwasher. Like you keep saying you will.â She left, pulling the door closed behind her.
Bryce sat up slowly. The diaper crinkled with the movement, hugging his hips too snugly. The stuffie stared up at him with soft black eyes and a lopsided stitched smile. He picked it up and turned it over in his hands. Its tag read âTummy.â
He made a face. âNo,â he muttered. âYouâre not Tummy.â He glanced toward the door. Then quietly said, âYouâre Harold.âÂ
He left the bedroom and walked into the spare room. His studio was barely more than a converted closetâsix feet wide, maybe eight feet longâwith a chipped desk against the far wall and a pegboard hung with scissors, transfer tape, and half-used rolls of vinyl. His cutting machine sat under a cover that hadnât been lifted in days. Doodles were taped everywhereâmarker sketches, design mockups, slogans he kept telling himself were clever.
There was a sticker draft for a fictional band called Gutter Romance, drawn in neon reds and purples like a bad tattoo. Another one read LO-FI SCENE QUEENS in jagged, bubble-letter script. On the next peg: a set of decals for a sandwich shop in town that hadnât paid him yet, and a pack of circular âSupport Your Local Print Nerdâ stickers with crossed squeegees in the middle.
He sank into the old rolling chair with a sigh, the bulk of the diaper puffing under him as he shifted to get comfortable, and sat Harold on the desk.Â
He found a blank page in his sketchpad. Picked up a pen. And started to draw.
Check out Ream to read this complete, ten-chapter story of Bryce's adventures navigating DIP. Plus, there are tons of other stories like this one on Ream. Members get access to my huge story archive, two new chapters a week, and a complete story every month!
Diaper Chart : How to keep your little obedient and motivated
Daddy tips - 2
Hi everyone,
Since it looks like you enjoyed the quick "Diapeefy" year in review I made for my little crinkle butt, I thought Iâd also share with you the template of the diaper chart I have been using in 2024 (and will be using in 2025) to keep track of all of that.
Perhaps this can inspire other Daddies/CG.
The goal is simple : Get 35 points to get a "Magic Stickies Card" for the following week. If 35 points have not been reached, no stickies for at least a week, until the next diaper chart is completed. Points cannot be carried over from one week to another. It automatically resets to 0 on Monday morning.
How to get points :
Gives 2 points :
Messy Diaper
Gives 1 point :
Soggy Diaper
Baby food dinner (baby food breakfast is everyday and therefore does not count as a bonus)
Playing for more than an hour in playpen
Gives 0 point (just helps keeping track of it)
Cage locked
Sticky Diaper
Diaper outside
Negative points :
Forgot bib (if baby eats by himself) = -4 points
If all baba have not been drank (morning, afternoon and evening) = -3 points per non-completed day
Any other naughty act can have an impact on the final number of points. Trying to remove diapers without permission is -10 points but it has only happened twice, so no need for it to show in the chart.
Finally, after years of planning and searching, Iâve found the boy Iâve always wanted! Apparently his name is Felix, but thatâs really just a minor detail I suppose. It was a bit of a hassle capturing him and getting him all tied up like this but as you can see it was well worth it. Heâs so cute! And if heâs that cute with all those awful big boy clothes on imagine what heâll look like when I turn him into my perfect diaper boy pet. I just canât wait to get started!
(This is part one of the long awaited original series Iâve wanted to do. Thanks so much to Diaperverse here on tumblr for being my model. And come on guys, admit it, just looking at him already has your mouths watering for more doesnât it. ;) More to come!)