“I’ve decided to keep him in them permanently! At first it was just a way of punishing him, but now i just think he looks so cute in them! Just look at the way his face turns purple as we open this up to find a poopy surprise!!”
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@dkjustme007
“I’ve decided to keep him in them permanently! At first it was just a way of punishing him, but now i just think he looks so cute in them! Just look at the way his face turns purple as we open this up to find a poopy surprise!!”
Absolutely love yellow plastic pants.
What a dream..!..I too am a lover of cloth diapers and plastic pants, and I do know that terry towelling is more absorbing that just cotton ..and its magic when wet..!..😈..
So cute 😍
If you don’t knock it off, you’ll find yourself in diapers too!
If you don’t knock it off, you’ll find yourself in diapers too!
Prints In Your Size…
I'm so glad times are changing. Being an Adult Baby just isn't that rare of a thing anymore. The major manufacturers are finally willing to address this market and cater to our needs. I'm so happy we can pick up some cute Elmo prints in your size at the grocery store now!
Sure, people may notice and even stare at the contents of our shopping cart more often. But isn't it freeing to know that society can see the "real you" now? And no one is guessing anymore why you have that adorable little waddle when you're walking around the store with Mommy.
Plus, not having to try and hide your diaper bulges anymore, we can be done with those pull-ups and thinner diapers, and I think we'll have a lot fewer leaks now. There's just no need to be discrete. And bonus, I'm free to dress you in more age-appropriate clothing, not just at home. Hearing you crinkle, and seeing you toddle around in a romper, or your shortalls when and wherever we are…aah, it just warms my heart.
Well, I think it's all just fantastic! And I love getting acknowledged as your Mommy now. It somehow feels even more rewarding and purposeful. This all, just feels, so right! Ya know?
(Sniff, Sniff*) Oh, sweetie. Did you have an oopsie? Well, let's hit the checkout line and we'll get you changed; the bathrooms here have the bigger changing tables to support you now.
The clatter of silverware and the murmur of polite conversation faded into a distant hum, the words a nonsensical backdrop to the bombshell that had just detonated at the dinner table. I had arrived with my girlfriend, Julie, prepared for the usual awkwardness of a family gathering, completely oblivious to the storm that was brewing, to the personal war that was about to start. It was all so clear now.
"Hey, everyone. Sorry we're late to dinner." Julie's voice, usually so sweet and kind, was now laced with a strange, almost unsettling energy. "Before anyone asks, I just want to say: This is my boyfriend, Tanner."
I managed a polite nod, a forced smile, completely unprepared for the next bomb to drop. I was still in shock. It felt as if a wave had crashed over me, and I couldn’t swim to the surface.
"We're currently doing this special lifestyle thing. I'm Tanner's mommy and he's my little boy.” The words echoed, each one a sharp, stinging blow, transforming my carefully constructed persona into a public spectacle.
I looked at my family, their eyes wide, their faces a mixture of shock and confusion. What was she doing? I was turning red. All of my secrets, all of my fantasies, were all about to be revealed to the people I knew the most.
"We're actually late because Tanny made such a big poop in his diaper that it took longer than usual to clean.” I had no words. I had nothing.
The room was still now. I just watched her, my eyes pleading with her to stop, begging her to end it all. She looked at me, and smiled. As if she wanted this to happen.
"Consider yourselves lucky I didn't wait until we got here to change him. But, yeah! Just wanted to get that out in the open before anyone starts commenting on why I'm cutting up his food.”
The absurdity of it all was a punch to the gut. The food, the conversation, all of it now pointless, a cruel charade in this warped reality that had been thrust upon me. The humiliation, the loss of control, it was too much.
“Julie, what the fuck?” I managed to choke out, my voice a desperate plea, a strangled cry for this to stop. And in that moment, I knew that life, as I knew it, was over.
Okay, okay, hear me out… despite the initial holy crap factor, there’s something weirdly appealing about this situation. The level of open honesty and absolute freedom this girl seems to display with this info about his secret, the level of acceptance with that kind of a reveal… I want that for me.
Like, yeah, the humiliation is obviously a factor here and, yeah, being on that place right there seems kinda stressful but the fact that that girl just… DID that? So good, honestly.
It would definitely be stressful to come out like this in front of all of my family members, but if there is someone willing to back me up, then… maybe? Just the idea of finally feeling seen and completely accepted for who you really are, well, it is making me feel things. And this level of honesty seems absolutely unreal. This would solve many problems. Also, did she say “daddy”, omg 😳
And at this moment, the words “Julie, what the fuck?” are totally making sense for someone who's living through the worst situation possible, but if someone else did that to me? My life might improve. A whole lot! So please? More details. More content!
Be careful !
True! 😂😂
100%!! So annoying
this 100%
Attention Caregivers!
Introducing The All-New... 'Seal Your Fate Diapers'
Brought to you by: Dumb Babies Who Wanted This All Along.
-A Testimonial:
We enjoyed some kink from time to time. And occasionally she'd even indulge in my 'diaper thing.' While this 'wasn't her thing,' she still found simple pleasures in the process and enjoyed the power found in the role of caregiver. To her credit, she did her due diligence in researching age play. She immersed herself in articles, forums, and various media depicting all manner of activities surrounding this community. She even kept subscribed to the mailing lists from previous online diaper and onesie orders. She said it helped her stay up on the latest trends and available products.
As time passed, she found new ways to entertain herself that typically resulted in furthering my 'baby experience' down the rabbit hole. She would later reveal -if she was going to be involved with this, -I would have to be committed!
Through her explorations, she ran across a content creator who made diaper art @crinklebuttart. This creator would make cute stickers for AB diapers that added a bit of flair. They also sold diapers with various handwritten sayings, that caught Mommy's attention (yeah, she's Mommy now).
Mommy devised a plan to purchase what she called a 'random' assortment of these handwritten diapers for 'special occasions.' Typically, once per year, she has me select one of these 'special diapers' and I have to beg to wear it. She warmly referred to them as 'seal-your-fate-diapers.' I'm not allowed to see what they say or know how many there are. But, once per year on the same day, she unlocks a special cabinet where she keeps them, and I have to touch my finger on a single diaper and say: "Please Mommy, I want to wear this diaper. Can I please have this one? I deserve it, mommy and it says what I really want!" She always gushes back in that sickeningly sweet condescending motherly tone. "Of course, you can baby, hop-on up on the changing table and we'll continue your trip further into babyhood!"
I'm not allowed to see what the diaper says until mommy is ready with her camera. After she tapes me up, she pulls out the camera and yells "Surprise baby!" A flash goes off, the moment is captured, and my 'fate is sealed' with the general meaning of the diaper's phrase.
"Oh my, what does the diaper say baby? Mommy will help read it to you, and then you can say it out loud too." She ensures there's no ambiguity behind the diaper's phrase or meaning and ultimately decides the interpretation.
"This one says, 'Big Babies Belong in Diapers.' Well, I suppose that's true, isn't it? And look at that you're already in a diaper, aren't you? Great job, my big baby, you're already getting started!" So that year I was a 'big baby in diapers.'
This meant the occasional diaper-wearing I'd done up to this point would become significantly more consistent throughout the year. And while I wasn't close to wearing diapers 24/7 365 that year, we both grew far more comfortable around the idea that I was a big baby who wore diapers.
These 'fates' typically last for a year, or it'll be something that will happen during that year. Sometimes, mommy really enjoys the new fate and just makes it a part of our 'new normal.' But some of the diaper fates can be embarrassing, she knows this. So, she uses them as discipline leverage to ensure I'm always on my best behavior. I don't want Mommy threatening to seal my fate early, because I still have to pick a diaper on the scheduled date anyway, then I'd be stuck with two fates in one year. Yikes!
So, here's a kind of 'scrapbook' view of my previous 'diaper fates.' Some were just for that year, and others, well...not so much.
This fate was the opener. It served as her acceptance of our new dynamic and established our official roles of Mommy and Baby. This really started me down the path of being seen and treated like a baby and wearing diapers more often.
This was a one-two punch, I ended up with two diaper fates that year. Since then, I don't believe I've ever fully recovered my confidence when I'm not wearing protection.
Mommy technically hasn't started lactating, but this added adult nursing to our dynamic. We still continue this activity to this day, no complaints here.
During this year we went on a vacation as Mommy and Baby. And yes, Mommy brought my diaper bag.
This was the start of Mommy getting me used to associating my diapers with pleasure (like I needed help with that). But, looking back I can't remember the last time I was allowed to do things like the 'big boys', or the 'adults' do. Even the names we use now for when she is generous with me are cutesy and babyish. So, when I'm allowed humpies or the buzzy to make cummies/stickies...they all just go into my diaper now. This one hasn't changed, this is still my fate.
Remember earlier when I'd said, "When I'm allowed." Yeah, I haven't been 'allowed' now for quite some time. You get used to the cage though. Mommy says it helps keep things small and pointed down like a girl, making less mess and leaks. This is another fate that stuck around after one year(s). In, or out of diapers, I'm always locked away now. Mommy prefers me 'locked up.' Also, she pays much more attention and loves teasing me now. So, I guess it's not all bad.
After being locked up for so long, I suppose this double-sided fate was bound to happen. Just like most irresponsible little ones in my position, I apparently purchased a Mother's Day gift that year (given in my name) that suggested a new way of being intimate. This marked the first year of Mommy stepping up to fill the void (my void). Hmm, I guess this is another fate that's persisted.
Oof! I still remember being confused about this one. At first, I thought a fate like this seemed a bit redundant. After what my life had turned into at this point, I no longer had any illusions that I was still a 'big boy.' I remember looking down to read the fate out loud, but instead, I blurted:
"Yeah, no duh, Mommy! I'm obviously not a big boy, I'm a baby boy! Gosh, that's just so obvious Mommy."
"Oooh, wOW, is it soOo just oBvIoUs bAbY? She mocked - Because that's not the way I read it."
"While you're right, it does say 'my big boy life is over,' and that's plain to see. I think it's really saying that your 'boy' life is over." So yeah, I wear a lot of pink now...
"Surprise baby girl!" *flash*
What does it say, mommy? I can't read it upside down! "Oh, that's alright baby girl, it's just another one of those 'obvious' ones again. Should we pick another from the cabinet?"
Images: @crinklebuttart @diapersissyela
You should’ve saw how embrassed baby was when I pulled down his pants at the restaurant had him pose and check his diaper in front of the mirror, good thing he was dry otherwise he would’ve had to come with me to ladies room for a change🖤🤭🔥
#mdlb #mommydom #femdom #abdI #submissive #diaper #humiliation #abdlcouple #fetish #mommy
Decision Time
"Aww. She's so cute like that. I never get tired of staring at that butt. Yep, baby, those diapers are alllll for you. No need to worry about that potty monster princess. You're going to be safe and soggy in your diapies."
"I don't think she's listening."
"No, she hears me. She's still a big smart girl somewhere inside. Aren't you? Aren't you? Yes, you are! But you'd rather play with your silly toys and frilly dresses like a cute little baby. Because you're so cute, I could eat you up! Gna gna gna!
"Is it wrong of me to think it's really hot you turned your ex into a baby?"
"No, I think it's pretty normal. Yes, honey, that's a diaper you're wearing! Do you know what it does? It holds all your peepee and poopoo. That's nice, right? Can you feel when you go? Oh, someone is wet. Do you know who? It's not daddy, it's not mommy, so who could it be? It's you, that's right! Do you wanna pick the next pack we open up?"
Photo credit: @elektra-fide
For more stories by me: https://reamstories.com/babywriter
🚫🚫 have fun
Our routine had settled into something unspoken, a quiet rhythm that defined our lives without needing words. My girlfriend would doll herself up—short dresses, smoky eyes, a spritz of perfume—and head out to fuck other men, while I stayed home, taping on a thick diaper, pissing into it, and humping the soggy mess until I came. It was pathetic, sure, but it worked. In bed with her, I was a disaster—either too soft to start or blowing my load in seconds. With the diapers, I could at least get off, and she could get what I couldn’t give her. We didn’t talk about it much in the daylight; it just was.
Then one evening, she threw me a curveball. She came home early, her hair still tousled from some guy’s hands, and plopped onto the couch with a grin that made my stomach twist. "I’ve got a surprise," she said, pulling out her laptop. "Made you something special." She hit play, and my world tilted. The screen split in two: on the left, grainy footage of me over the past few weeks—night after night, hunched over a pillow, humping my wet diaper like a desperate animal, my face flushed and twisted in shameful bliss. The label above read, "Pathetic Diaper Humper." On the right, crisp clips of her—legs spread, moaning loud, getting railed by a parade of guys with cocks that worked. That side was tagged, "Real Men Fucking Pussy." The edit was slick, professional, syncing my pitiful grunts with her ecstatic cries, a brutal side-by-side of my failure and her pleasure.
I stared, horrified. There I was, laid bare—waddling in my piss-soaked pampers, rutting like a loser—while she glowed, fucked proper by men who knew what they were doing. My chest tightened with shame, but my cock betrayed me, swelling hard against the diaper I was already wearing. She clocked it instantly, her eyes flicking to the bulge. "Oh, look at that," she teased, voice dripping with amusement. "You’re loving this, aren’t you?"
I couldn’t speak, my throat dry, but she leaned closer, her tone softening just enough to twist the knife. "I’m thankful for you, you know—letting me have this. I just wanted to make sure you’re having as good a time as me every night. Thought this’d be perfect fap fuel for my little diaper boy." She was right, and I hated it. The video looped—me cumming in my padding, her cumming on some stranger’s dick—and my arousal spiked, undeniable and disgusting.
Before I could process it, she swung a leg over me, straddling my chest, and pressed her pussy against my face. The heat of her, the faint musk through her panties, hit me like a drug. "Feel that?" she purred, grinding slightly. "Your sad little dick’ll never know it. You only cum humping your nasty diapers. Go on—start humping. Now." I was already moving, hips bucking against the couch cushion, the wet diaper sloshing as I buried my face in her scent. It was too much—the video still playing, her taunting me, the humiliation crashing over me—and I came in under a minute, a pitiful spurt into the soggy mess.
She laughed, low and sharp. "Wow, that was fast. Look at you, cumming to your own shame." She slid off me, sitting back to watch me pant, and started firing questions, her voice like a whip. "So, what’s it like, huh? Knowing you’re a diaper-humping cuck while I’m out getting fucked right? You love it, don’t you?" I squirmed, the truth clawing its way out. "Y-yeah," I mumbled, "I… I love what I’ve become."
"Say it louder," she demanded, smirking. "Tell me you’re a pathetic little diaper bitch who can’t fuck me." My face burned, but I obeyed. "I’m a pathetic diaper bitch. I can’t fuck you. I love this." She reached over, patting the swollen, cum-drenched diaper with a condescending little tap. "Good boy. And guess what? I’m heading out again tonight—gonna get pounded while you hump that thing some more. Enjoy your video, okay?"
She stood, grabbing her purse, and left me there—sprawled on the couch, the laptop still looping my disgrace next to her triumph. The diaper clung to me, cold and heavy now, but I knew I’d be hard again soon. It was all I had left, and she’d made damn sure I’d never forget it.