DylanLee

I'm currently 28 | No MINORS should be following me on here at all. I mainly reblog things that I like on here

[littlestbabyy]

Since you are 24/7, do you use your diaper for number one and two or just number one?

I’m fully 24/7, so that means I can be a stinky icky baby!

[lilyappybb]

ok fuck it i want these on here. twitter just isn’t that same. PLEASE I WANT MY FRIENDS BACK TUMBLR

[puppieloulou2]

Wearing @landofgenielittle

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[puppieloulou2]

I only have 2 Fairylands :( I’ll keep the other one for a special occasion <3

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[starstruckkink]

Soggy stinky bottom 😢

[avery-noctem]

Some girls just have an enormous ass 🤭

[princessofnuance]

🏒dad’s hockey game🏒

(a work of dd/lg fiction. all characters are consenting adults. yall. this might be the hottest and grossest thing ive ever written. and yes maybe im projecting bc i have a thing for hockey player dads 🫠 enjoy freaks)

i loved game days the best. when dad and all his hockey teammates got suited up in their jerseys and padding and skates, and took to the ice.

the air in the ice arena was chilly full of anticipation as everyone found their seats. i liked to be in the veryyyy front row, so i could stand by the glass and watch dad up-close.

game days were fun because i got to go with my best friend ella, whose daddy was also on the team.

now, ella and i were bundled up in thick pants that hid our diapers underneath, both of us wearing a jersey with our respective daddy’s name on it. we were watching the teams warm up, skating around and taking practice shots, while the goalie (ella’s daddy) stopped as many as he could.

it made sense that her daddy was goalie. you have to be calm and collected to be goaltender, and ella’s daddy, who i called mr. christopher, was the definition of calm.

my daddy was a left winger. not quite as calm, he was flying across the ice with that power and speed that i loved so much. i banged on the glass excitedly, watching him shoot and score a backhand shot when mr. chris wasn’t looking.

after the game, daddy and mr. christopher met me and ella outside the locker room.

dad was flushed and sweaty, a towel around his neck as he hauled his duffel bag over his shoulder.

“uh oh, double trouble,” he chuckled when he saw me and ella standing together.

he wrapped me up in his arms, scooping me off the ground in a big hug.

“hi little girly.”

“hi dad.” i grinned, nuzzling into his sweaty neck. the sweat never bothered me- i liked the human, familiar smell of it. “you played so well. that last shot was insane.”

dad chuckled, putting me down and ruffling my hair.

“thank you, baby, i love showing off for you. did you and ella have fun?” dad asked, watching fondly as ella and her daddy hugged and chatted about the game.

i nodded. “did you see us banging on the glass?”

he laughed. “baby, everyone could see you banging on the glass.”

i blushed and giggled.

“alright little girly, you ready to go home? dad’s exhausted. let’s order takeout, and you’re not leaving my lap all night, missy.”

“deal!” i grabbed daddy’s hand and swung it between us as we waved goodbye to our friends and started walking towards the parking lot.

“what sounds good for dinner?” dad asked, swinging our hands playfully.

“whatever you want, you’re the one who was on skates slamming into people for two hours.”

dad laughed. “it really does make me work up an appetite. pasta sound good?”

i nodded. “yummy. can we get dessert too?”

he shot me a look. “when have i ever said no to dessert?”

when we got to the car, dad looked around to make sure we were alone, then he reached down to feel my diaper through my pants. his big hand squeezed the squishy padding, and i whined at the feeling.

“goddamn, you need a change badly. how many times did you go potty during the game?”

i whined again at the blushiness of the question.

“uh uh uh, answer me,” dad insisted.

“three.”

“three? and you already had used it twice before the game?” dad gave my soggy diaper butt a playful swat, making me whimper. “such a wet little girl. i think you’ll need a change as soon as get home, huh? let’s hope you don’t leak.” dad said, opening the car door for me.

he buckled me in, and i squirmed in my wet diaper.

on the drive home, dad kept one hand on the steering wheel and one hand on my soggy diapered crotch.

“next game, you might have to be double diapered.” daddy said with an evil smile i knew too well. “if you’re gonna pee pee that much and risk leaking, it seems like the only solution”

“but daaaaad, that’s so embarrassing. people will be able to tell.” i groaned.

“is ella in double diapers?” dad asked.

i huffed. “no.”

“but you understand why you might need to be?”

i crossed my arms and hmphed again.

“hey, lose the attitude, brat,” daddy said. “now, can you tell me why you need double diapers?”

my cheeks burned, but i quietly answered daddy. “so i don’t leak.”

“that’s right. i’m trying to save you the embarrassment of leaking all over yourself.”

i knew daddy was right. then, suddenly i felt the urge to go potty again.

glancing at daddy, whose eyes were on the road, i squirmed in my seat and started to wet myself again.

i knew i was going to leak. i knew my diaper had been hanging on for dear life- all swollen and squishy and warm underneath my jeans. and now… as i released into my diaper once again, i could feel the second i started to leak.

daddy’s hand was still on my crotch, and it only took him about ten seconds to realize what was happening. my pee was soaking my jeans in a dark wet patch, my diaper maxxed out so much that it wasn’t absorbing another drop.

“oh, baby,” dad looked over at the growing wet patch on my crotch. “you really do need double diapers, don’t you?”

dad gave me his towel to put underneath my seat, but it didn’t stop the obvious smell of pee filling the car.

when we pulled into the garage, dad parked and looked at me. “stay right there. i’m going to come get you, and you’re going straight onto your changing mat, missy.”

i blushed as daddy unbuckled me and helped me out of the car. the bottom of my jeans was soaked, my overly-swollen diaper bursting underneath the denim. there was no hiding the damage.

dad let me to the bathroom and laid down my changing mat and two fresh diapers.

“did you go pee pee again on purpose, knowing you were going to flood your diaper?” daddy asked as he laid me down, stripping the wet jeans off me.

i giggled with my feet in the air. “maybe…”

“naughty girl…” daddy tsked. “but it’s not your fault, dad should’ve changed you right before the game. oh, baby, look at you.”

dad reached down to squish my diaper, amazed at how full and swollen the padding was.

“baby, this is honestly pretty impressive. i don’t think ive ever seen a diaper so full.”

“dad?” i asked, stopping him before he undid the tapes.

“what’s up?”

“can i…fill it a little more?”

dad gave me a look. “this diaper cannot hold any more pee pee, little missy.”

i giggled, kicking my legs and playing with my socked feet. “i’m not talking about peepee.”

a dark, aroused look crossed dad’s face. i could literally see his pupils dilate as he realized what i meant.

“oh? does my little girl need to go poopy?”

i nodded, sucking my thumb as he groaned. nothing made dad more feral than watching me mess myself, and i liked to take full advantage of that whenever i could.

“come sit on dad’s lap. you’re not going anywhere until you use that diaper to its full capacity.”

daddy manhandled me into his lap until i was straddling him, my squishy diaper rubbing against his hard-on. i bounced a little, enjoying the feeling of the swollen padding and dad’s erection on my princess parts.

dad groaned, head leaning back like he was in actual pain.

“you are so fucking hot, you depraved thing.”

i gave a mischevious laugh, rubbing my diaper back and forth against dad’s lap, making him moan and grunt with each movement.

his hands went to my hips, guiding me to grind faster and harder against his lap.

finally, i couldn’t wait any longer.

“dad…i can’t hold it.” i said suddenly. i leaned forward, squatting slightly on dad’s lap as i started to push. i could feel the back of my diaper expanding, and then dad’s hand was there, cupping my mess.

“holy fuck,” dad groaned, watching me, enamored as i debased myself for him.

when i was finally done pushing, i sat down on daddy’s lap, my mess squishing underneath me in a satisfying, icky squish.

“you love being dad’s gross little girl, don’t you?”

i giggled, feeling lightheaded from how turned on and relieved i felt.

“i love it more than anything in the world.”

i stood up carefully, my destroyed diaper hanging between my legs heavily.

“i love you, you little freak,” dad said, still sitting on the floor, watching me fondly as i stood there in nothing but his hockey jersey and my poopy diaper.

“i love you too.”

dad groaned again. “stay right there, princess, i need to take a picture.”

[lovelyalita]

Making Dinner ♡

Think of this:

Your husband has been hard at work all day, and as his diligent wife, you wanted to cook him a nice meal. Considering you'd been under the weather the past few days and had been resorted to eating ample takeout, you wanted to surprise him with a nice meal. Plus, he was receiving a great recognition at work, so you wanted something to celebrate his success.

You're midway into attending to all the pots on the stove when you feel a pressure build up in your lower abdomen. You hadn't gone in three days, on account of your illness and having been stopped up from all the takeout you ate, and now you realize just how heavy your bowels felt after three days of build-up. While you previously wished to be free from the aching confines of constipation, you now regretted praying so hard for it, because you were getting what you asked for.

You groan as your stomach churns, and you grab at your abdomen, digging fingers into the flesh. You really have to go, it's getting dire now, but there's absolutely no way you can go now: you have too many things to attend to on the stove. Plus, you want your hubby's dish to be just perfect; you'd be so upset if his nice congratulatory meal was overcooked or gummy in any way on account of you needing to stop for a simple toilet break, and you couldnt afford to remake anything since he'd be home at 5:10. You were a grown woman capable of holding her bowels; you'd attend to the rest of the meal while it finished cooking in ten minutes, and then you'd escape to the toilet.

While your game plan fills you with inspiration and self-assured confidence at first, it quickly wavers on account of your cramps growing more intense. You groan harder and lean on the stove as a particularly crushing twinge travels through your colon, pushing the mass even closer to your exit. You can feel the walls of your intestines ripple around the bulking mass, your sweaty anus puckering in preparation for passing it.

Perspirstion builds up on your brow, and you have to swallow back a tad bit of nausea. It's getting worse, the urge to go, but this dinner matters more. Your meal has to be just perfect; you want to give him nothing less. You don't want to let him down.

The next wave sends you folding over, gripping the handle of the oven for dear life. Your bowels spasm, making it evidently clear that they'd like you seated on a toilet by the way the mass starts to prod at your sphincter.

You whine as your bowels involuntarily start pushing harder, trying to carry out its instinctual processes of waste disposal. You grip the bar harder and focus everything you've got on sucking the log back in, which has started to poke at the fabric of your white polyester underwear.

With some degree of success, you succeed, and manage to fend off the pushing until the wave subsides. Already your tailbone feels sweaty from the exertion, and if that was the kind of force you were left to fight, then you hoped the food would be done soon. You will your shaking core and legs to make you stand up straight, swallowing the excess saliva.

You lift lids and stir and adjust the temperature as needed, making sure nothing sticks to the bottom and burns and ruins the warm meal your loving husband deserves. You clench and whine some more as the pressure begins building again, gripping the front of your apron and twisting it.

Here it comes, the urge to push and the mounting pressure builds back up again, more forceful than before. You gasp, slamming your legs and involuntarily sticking your butt out as the cheeks start to spread again, this time erupting with a decent bit of the first hard log managing to escape, plopping into your underwear after getting pinched off. It's still connected to the rest of the piece inside your rectum on account of how dry and packed the waste is, so you use that to your advantage, clenching and willing for it to not stretch your underwear beyond just the tip that's pressing into the fabric. This was happening whether you'd like it to or not.

The wave starts back up again, and as you frantically slam the lid back onto the pot to steady yourself against the oven as the load starts slowly easing out more and more, slowly stretching your anus to a size you're sure you've never experienced before. Strong ripples travel up your spine as you gasp again, failing to fight back the rest of the exiting load. You can only stand there in horror as the large log pushes past your cheeks, finally passing the rest of your hole before collecting in the seat of your panties.

Another log starts emerging right behind it, and you decide to succumb to nature, bracing yourself as the next large log starts to pebble out atop the last one. Your anus sputters with trapped gas and softer, newer waste that was trapped behind the old build-up. You groan in relief as your body keeps expelling the waste.

With the worst of it over, you shudder and pant, finally being granted the ability to stand up somewhat straight again. You're pretty sure your panties are ruined at that point on account of all the heavy waste sagging in them, but you did what you had to do.

Dinner is ready in two more minutes. You continue stirring and attending to each pot, eventually flipping each burner off one by one as they come to a rest. Now that you no longer have to worry about dinner potentially being ruined, you can finally leave the kitchen.

As you set the wooden spoon down and head down the hall for the bathroom, you can't help but knead your stomach one more time as another tangling ache comes on. Now you could finally get cleaned up and get rid of the weight, but it looks like there was still more in there to be expelled…

[ellaindiapers]

good girls squat and push 🤎🤎🤎

[ellaindiapers]

making poopies and peepees for room for more milkies in my tummy!🍼

[avery-noctem]

Gross girl

[thickndry]

[littlepaddedprincess]

rlly livin up to the name on my diape ><

[daddy-diapers-andspanks]

Princess was being very bratty before dinnertime. She was doing everything to try Daddy's patience, most it somewhat harmless, babygirls are going to be babygirls..but the final straw was when Princess felt Daddy wasn't giving her enough attention..so she picked up a plate and threw it on the ground with a sly smile as it smashed on the tile floor just to see what Daddy would do. Daddy was in the middle of making dinner and didn't want anything to burn, so instead of giving her a direct punishment, he just stuck her nose in the corner until dinner was done. Princess was a bit displeased. Not that she was in the corner, but because Daddy didn't do anything else to her. She was expecting a more elaborate and fun punishment. Still not satisfied with the lack of attention she was getting, Princess messed her diaper while in the corner just to agitate Daddy a little bit more. Princess always wanted to see what Daddy would do. Daddy had just finished dinner and came to collect Princess from the corner, when he realized that she was slightly messy. Princess puckered her lips in a duckface, turned her head over her shoulder, and looked down at her diaper with a lot of sass. Then her eyes bounced off her diaper, up to Daddy as she glanced at him, as a way to say "what are you going to do about it?" but without saying any words. In the meantime dinner was getting cold, so instead of taking Princess for some kind of punishment or a change, Daddy said "Time for dinner little girl" with a smile, leading her by the hand to the table, and plopping her messy bottom on the chair. Her face grew with disgust and she really wanted to get back up, but Daddy said "Don't you try it little girl." This time she actually listened, but pouted while doing so. Daddy served Princess her dinner, and sat down to eat himself, thinking of how he would actually punish Princess afterwards.

[littledreambunny]

My Fair Baby

The morning sun streamed through the bedroom window, painting everything in soft golden light.

She stood in front of the full-length mirror, turning slowly from side to side. Her long brunette hair cascaded down her back in gentle waves, a pale blue bow clipped neatly in the centre. The yellow sundress hugged her delicate frame perfectly, it was feminine, flirty, and just short enough to make her feel a little daring.

It’s been so long since Daddy and I had a proper romantic date, she thought, smoothing the dress over her hips. Just the two of us doing regular couple stuff. Like grown-ups.

She studied her reflection with a hopeful, determined smile. Big Disney princess doe eyes, plump pink lips, and her adorable tiny button nose Daddy always loved to kiss. She'd made sure to apply her make up carefully, highlighting all her best features. Today she looked like a proper girlfriend.

No diapers today, she told herself firmly. The thin lace panties underneath felt light and freeing. I can do this. I’m going to be his big girl all day. No accidents. Just a real date like old times.

She was smart, capable, and mature… and today she was determined to prove it!

Daddy appeared in the doorway, filling the frame effortlessly. He was truly handsome in that easy, comforting way, broad shoulders, expressive face that could shift from gentle to playfully stern in a heartbeat. When he looked at her, his eyes softened with that special warmth she loved more than anything.

“You look beautiful, princess,” he said, voice deep and affectionate. He stepped inside and wrapped his arms around her from behind, resting his chin on top of her head. “My pretty date.”

She leaned back against his chest, smiling brightly up at him in the mirror.

“Thank you, Daddy! I picked this dress because I thought it would be perfect for walking around the fair. Did you know the local fair has over thirty different food stalls this year? I read about it online. There’s even a new cotton candy stand with vanilla flavours. We have to try it.”

He chuckled, that wonderful hearty laugh she adored, before pressing a soft kiss to her temple.

“I’m looking forward to it, sweetheart. You’ve been so excited about our big date.”

But then he reached for the large pink diaper bag sitting by the door.

Her stomach dropped.

Daddy… no.

The frustration bubbled up fast. Everywhere we go he brings that bag. And he only picks daytime activities now because he decided ages ago that I need an early bedtime. It’s silly. Just because I get tired by eight o’clock doesn’t mean I need to be in bed by eight.

When they were first dating, he used to kiss her passionately in the street after a romantic dinner and movie. Now the only “public displays of affection” Daddy gave her were forehead kisses, boops on the nose, and sly diaper checks when no one was looking.

She had gotten herself all dolled up this morning. Today was supposed to be different.

“Daddy, please,” she said, turning in his arms with a determined pout. Her big doe eyes pleaded with him. “We talked about this. Today is supposed to be different. I want to feel like your girlfriend, not your baby. I can handle it. I promise. I’m going to stay dry all day like a big girl. Please?”

He looked down at her with that protective, knowing expression. His hand gently brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

“I know you want to try, my sweet girl. And Daddy is so proud of how determined you are. You’re smart, you’re bubbly, you’re full of all those wonderful facts and thoughts you love sharing with me. But I also know my little princess. I know how your body works when we’re out having fun for hours. I’m not going to risk you being uncomfortable or embarrassed. Let me take care of you properly today.”

She fussed softly, cheeks flushing pink as he guided her toward the bed.

“But Daddy… the dress. It’s so pretty. The diaper will show and I’ll look silly…”

“You could never look silly to me,” he murmured, laying her down gently. “You’ll look adorable as always."

The thick diaper crinkled loudly as he worked, the familiar baby powder scent mixing with her signature vanilla fragrance. When he finished and helped her stand, the sundress did little to hide the obvious padded bulk. Every movement made a soft, telltale rustle.

She wanted to believe her old mask could still fit convincingly. That she could still be the big girl she used to pretend to be. But deep down, a small voice whispered that things weren’t like old times anymore.

Because now she was his baby girl.

And Daddy’s job was to make sure his little one was safe and cared for.

The car ride started off hopefully.

She held Daddy’s hand across the center console, swinging it gently. The windows were down, letting in warm summer air that smelled like fresh-cut grass and distant barbecue smoke. Her sundress fluttered against her thighs. For a few minutes she let herself believe this was really going to be their day.

“Did you know fairs like this one have been around since the 1800s?” she said brightly. “They started as agricultural shows but turned into these big celebrations of community and fun. I think that’s so sweet.”

Daddy smiled, giving her hand a squeeze. “I love how you know so many interesting facts, princess. Tell me more.”

She beamed, feeling a little spark of confidence.

But every bump in the road made the thick diaper crinkle loudly beneath her dress. The pink diaper bag sat openly in the backseat like an unwelcome guest.

When they arrived at the fair, the full sensory explosion hit her. The air was thick with the sweet scent of fried dough, popcorn, and vanilla cotton candy. Children laughed and screamed on rides. Carnival music played from old speakers. Bright lights and colourful booths stretched out in every direction.

Her heart lifted. This could still be romantic, she thought, slipping her hand into his again. We can walk around, eat cotton candy, maybe kiss on the Ferris wheel like old times.

For the first twenty minutes, it almost felt perfect. They walked hand-in-hand past game booths. She chattered away about the history of ring toss games and how the stuffed animals were probably made in the same factories as her favourite plushies at home. Daddy listened thoughtfully with that fond expression.

But then he gently steered her toward the petting zoo area.

“Daddy,” she whispered, tugging his hand. “I thought we were doing couple things. There’s a Ferris wheel and a cute photo booth over there…”

“We’ll get there, sweetheart,” he said patiently. “But first I want my girl to enjoy herself. Look how cute the baby goats are.”

She tried to stay bubbly, but the sight of parents pushing strollers and toddlers in diapers made her cheeks burn. Her own padded bottom felt enormous under the sundress. Every step made the crinkle louder in her ears.

They stopped at a lemonade stand. Daddy ordered two drinks, one normal cup for him, one sippy cup for her. She accepted it with a small pout.

As the afternoon wore on, the pressure in her bladder built. She shifted from foot to foot, trying to look casual. I can hold it. Big girls can hold it.

But Daddy noticed. He wrapped a protective arm around her.

“Everything okay, princess? You’re doing that little dance.”

Her face went bright red. “I’m fine. I’m being a big girl today. I don’t need help.”

The urge hit hard and fast while they were at the petting zoo. A sudden, warm rush flooded into her diaper. She froze, mortified, feeling the heavy warmth settle against her skin.

Tears pricked her eyes.

“I… I had an accident,” she whispered, voice trembling. “I really tried, Daddy. I wanted to be your big girl so badly today.”

Daddy immediately scooped her up into his arms, carrying her protectively against his chest. “Aww, my poor little girl. You tried so hard to be big today, didn’t you? But babies have accidents. That’s why Daddy brings extra diapers.”

She buried her face in his shirt, tears soaking the fabric. “I thought if I tried really hard, I could be normal for one day. Like we used to be. You used to kiss me in the street and now… now you only kiss my forehead and check my diaper like I’m just a baby…”

Daddy held her tighter. His hand slid down to gently pat the back of her soaked padding.

“Because you are my baby, princess. My delicate little doll with the big pretty eyes and the pouty pink lips. You tried so hard to be a big sophisticated girlfriend today… and you ended up soaking your diaper like the sweetest, smallest girl instead. Doesn’t that feel better than pretending?”

She whimpered, face flaming. “Daddy… people might hear you…”

He chuckled softly and booped her tiny nose. “Let them hear. So what if they know my baby girl needs diapers to catch all her accidents?"

The words made her feel impossibly small.

He carried her all the way to the family restroom, fussing over her the entire time, stroking her hair, rubbing her back, whispering gentle praises. Inside the stall, he laid her on the changing table and cleaned her with slow, careful wipes, powdering her thoroughly until she smelled like pure baby.

“Look at you,” he murmured playfully while taping on the fresh, even thicker diaper. “All blushy and embarrassed in your pretty sundress. My delicate little doll needs so much padding, doesn’t she?”

She whimpered, covering her face. The humiliation felt endless.

When they stepped back out, Daddy carried her again, holding her close like the precious baby she was.

The fair was still alive with noise and color, but she felt like everyone was staring. The thick, fresh diaper forced her legs into that obvious baby waddle. Every step made a loud, unmistakable crinkle that seemed to echo across the entire grounds.

Her cheeks burned hot. She kept her head down, long brunette hair falling forward like a curtain, hoping no one could see how heavily padded she was.

Daddy pulled her closer with a protective arm around her shoulders, but his voice carried that gentle, playful tease she both dreaded and craved.

“Aww, look at my little princess waddling so cutely,” he murmured, leaning down so only she could hear. “That thick diaper makes you walk so adorably. Does it feel nice and bulky between those pretty legs, sweetheart?”

“Daddy… stop teasing me,” she mumbled, even as a tiny, embarrassed giggle slipped out.

He grinned and kissed the top of her head. “But you get so adorably blushy when I tease you. Look at those rosy cheeks. My perfect padded princess.”

For the rest of the afternoon, she stopped fighting.

She let him push her on the swings. She let him carry her when her legs got tired. She let him fix her paci clip to her dress when she got fussy. Every crinkle, every squish, every caring touch reminded her exactly who she was.

They found a quiet bench a little away from the main crowd. Daddy sat down and effortlessly pulled her into his lap, arranging her so she was straddling one of his thighs. The thick diaper squished noticeably under her weight, the crinkle loud in her own ears.

They stayed like that as the sky turned pink and orange. She let herself relax against his chest, sucking softly on the paci he’d clipped to her dress. The fair lights twinkled around them while carnival music played in the distance. Every now and then Daddy would gently pat her warm soggy bottom.

For the first time all day, the constant crinkle didn’t make her want to disappear.

It made her feel safe.

She wasn’t too big for her diapers after all.

She was exactly the right size for Daddy’s arms.

[kinkedbycalliope]

Pamper packer ❤️

[kinkedbycalliope]

Hard to imagine a pretty little thing like you is secretly a gross little pamper packer.

Gross little pamper packer 4 life ☺️