Babyboy in Brisbane

Just a collection of things I like!

[medman21]

“I don’t understand white people. Like, I’m literally changing a grown man’s diaper on his living room floor while his wife is out cheating on him.

The fucked up thing? He’s totally ok with it? Like, his little dicklet is literally locked up in a cage! I just don’t get it. It’s the most pathetic thing I’ve ever seen.

But, I’m not complaining. It’s easy money for me, and the little bitch has to do everything I say. Babysitting cucks isn’t exactly the career path I envisioned, but it does pay well.

Better get this little bitch into his crib for the night, my boyfriend will be here soon.”

[medman21]

“Do you think this is what I want to be doing right now, cuck? Spoon feeding a grown man while he’s strapped into his gigantic high chair?

Do you really think I want to be in the same room as you? When you smell like that? I literally changed your diaper an hour ago and you’ve already completely loaded it, you smell absolutely terrible!

Oh! And how could I forget, remember when you leaked through your cage all over my hand when I changed you? Do you? Huh? Do you think that’s what I wanted?

No, absolutely not.

So let’s not make this anymore unpleasant than it already is, you’re going to eat all of this nasty, mushy food…and you’re going to smile while you do it. I don’t care how messy your face gets, or how bad it tastes!

Once you’re finished gobbling up all that yucky food you’re going down for a nap. I’ve already had enough of you today, cuck.

Seriously? No, definitely not! You won’t be getting that messy butt changed until after a nice long, uncomfortable nap.”

@wingnutty33333

[sissiesinsatin]

Best feeling 💖🎀

[imtellingmommytoo]

Adorable & Pathetic.

Adorable & Pathetic; two concepts that transcend a sissy's existence. From curated wardrobes to control of their continence. Even a sissy's sex life, should find balance with these foundational qualities where the adorable intersects with the pathetic, after all it's the hallmark of a well kept sissy.

[ameliemommy]

Diaper Change Tease

The nursery was bathed in the soft, golden glow of the lamp on the changing table, casting long shadows across the walls. The air smelled faintly of baby powder and lavender, the scent of bedtime rituals and comfort. You’d been clingy all evening, following Mommy from room to room, your arms wrapped around her legs, your voice small and whiny as you begged for just one more story, one more cuddle. She’d indulged you, of course, but now it was time for bed. And bedtime meant one thing: a fresh diaper.

You lay on the changing table, the padded surface cool against your bare back. The plastic sheet crinkled beneath you as you shifted, your legs kicking restlessly. Mommy stood beside you, her hands deft as she unfastened the tapes of your soaked diaper. The wet padding sagged as she peeled it away, the cool air hitting your skin and making you shiver. You bit your lip, your face already warm with embarrassment. You knew she could see how flushed you were, how your body had already started to react to her touch.

“Mmm, someone’s a little excited tonight,” Mommy murmured, her voice thick with amusement. She wiped you down with a warm, damp cloth, her fingers lingering just a second too long as she cleaned you. You squirmed, but there was nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. Her touch was gentle but deliberate, tracing circles over your hips, down your thighs, and then… oh… there. You gasped as her fingers brushed against you, your body betraying you instantly. She chuckled, low and knowing. “Look at you. Such a needy boy for Mommy.”

You wanted to protest, to tell her to stop, but the words died in your throat. Instead, you just whimpered, your fingers clutching at the edges of the changing table. She powdered you next, the puff of white dust billowing into the air before settling onto your skin. The scent was thick, babyish, and it only made the moment feel more intimate, more real. You were at her mercy, and she knew it.

Mommy reached for the fresh diaper, unfolding it with a practiced flick of her wrists. It was thick, extra thick, the kind that would make you waddle when you walked, the kind that would crinkle with every movement. She slid it beneath you, the plastic backing cool and smooth against your skin. But she didn’t tape it up. Not yet.

Instead, her hand found its way to the front of the diaper, her fingers pressing down through the dry padding. You let out a broken sound, your hips jerking up off the table. “Does this feel nice, baby?” she asked, her voice dripping with amusement. You nodded frantically, your face burning. You hated how much you loved it, how your body arched into her touch without a second thought. Her fingers moved in slow, deliberate circles, the pressure just enough to make your breath hitch.

“Mommy’s going to take such good care of you,” she cooed, her other hand pressing down on your hip to keep you still. “But you have to be a good boy for me. Can you do that?” You nodded again, your voice lost somewhere between a whimper and a plea. Her fingers worked you through the diaper, the padding muffling the sound of her touch but doing nothing to dull the sensation. If anything, it made it better, the way the plastic crinkled, the way the thickness of the diaper pressed back against you, trapping you in the moment.

Your hips started to lift off the table, your body moving on its own, grinding into her hand. She let you, her smile widening as she watched you unravel. “That’s it,” she murmured. “Show Mommy how much you love your Pampers.” Her fingers picked up speed, her touch firm and unyielding. You could feel it building, coiling tight in your stomach, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps. The diaper crinkled loudly with every movement, the sound filling the room, a constant reminder of what you were, who you belonged to.

“P-please,” you managed to choke out, your voice trembling. You didn’t even know what you were begging for, more, less, something, but Mommy seemed to understand. She leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Shhh, baby. Mommy’s got you.” Her hand didn’t stop. If anything, it moved faster, her fingers pressing harder, her touch demanding. You were lost in it, in her, in the way your body responded so eagerly to her command.

And then… It hit you like a wave. Your back arched off the table, your fingers clawing at the padded surface as your body tensed. A gasp tore from your throat, your hips jerking wildly as you spilled your seed into the diaper, the padding growing warm and sticky beneath you. You collapsed back against the table, your chest heaving, your face flushed and damp with sweat. The diaper was a mess, your mess, and the realization of it sent another shudder through you.

Mommy finally taped up the diaper, her movements slow and deliberate as she secured the tabs. She patted your thigh, her touch lingering. “There we go,” she said, her voice soft but laced with satisfaction. “All sticky for bedtime.” She lifted you off the table, cradling you against her chest. You could feel the weight of the diaper between your legs, the warmth of your release seeping into the padding. It was humiliating. It was perfect.

She carried you to your crib, tucking you in with a kiss to your forehead. “Now you remember how much you love your diapers, don’t you?” she whispered, her fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face. You nodded, your cheeks still burning, your body still trembling from the aftershocks. She smiled, pulling the blanket up to your chin. “Good boy. Sleep tight.”

And as she turned off the light, leaving you in the soft glow of the nightlight, you realized something: you did love your diapers. You loved the way they made you feel small, and safe, and hers. And as you drifted off to sleep, the weight of your sticky diaper a constant, comforting reminder, you knew you’d never forget it.

[bbcharlotte]

[bbcharlotte]

[ameliemommy]

Lap Time

The living room was bathed in the golden glow of late afternoon, the kind of light that made everything feel soft and warm. The couch cushions still held the faint imprint of where you’d been sitting earlier, fidgeting with the hem of your onesie, your thick diaper crinkling with every shift of your legs. You’d been restless all day, bored, maybe, or just needing something you couldn’t quite name. Mommy had watched you with that knowing look of hers, the one that said she could see right through you, even when you thought you were being subtle.

Now, she patted her lap. "Come here, baby," she said, her voice warm but firm. You hesitated for only a second before scrambling over, your short legs carrying you as fast as they could. The moment you settled onto her lap, facing her, you could feel the dampness in your diaper press against her thighs. You’d wet a little earlier, too distracted by your toys to bother telling her, and now the padding was swollen and cool against your skin.

Mommy’s hands found your hips, her fingers curling just slightly into the fabric of your onesie. "Someone’s a little wiggly today," she murmured, her breath tickling the top of your head. Before you could respond, she started bouncing you, gentle at first, just enough to make you sway in her lap. The motion sent a jolt through you, your diaper rubbing against her legs with every little lift and drop. You bit your lip, trying to ignore the way your body was reacting, but it was impossible. The pressure, the friction, it was too good.

You shifted, just a little, testing the sensation. The crinkle of your diaper was loud in the quiet room, and you could feel yourself getting harder, the padding pressing against you in all the right ways. Mommy’s smirk told you she’d noticed. "Ohhh, is my little boy enjoying this?" Her voice was light, teasing, but there was an edge to it, something that made your stomach flip.

Her hands tightened on your hips, guiding you, and suddenly you weren’t just being bounced, you were moving. Your body took over, your hips rolling forward, grinding against her lap. The diaper between you and her legs was a barrier, but it only made the friction better, the plastic backing slick against her skin. You could feel your face heating up, your breath coming faster, but you couldn’t stop. Mommy didn’t let you.

"That’s it," she cooed, her voice dropping into that low, soothing tone that always made you feel small and safe and wanted. "Mommy’s got you. Just let go." Her hands kept you moving, her thighs pressing up against you just enough to give you something to push against. The room faded away, there was only the sound of your diaper crinkling, the warmth of her body beneath you, the growing pleasure in your nappy.

Your hips started to jerk on their own, your movements losing their rhythm as the pleasure built. You pressed your face into her shoulder, your fingers clutching at her shirt, needing something to hold onto. Mommy’s laugh was soft, almost a purr. "Such a good boy," she murmured, one hand sliding up your back to hold you closer. "You can do it, baby. Mommy wants you to."

And then, you were there. The tension snapped, and with a muffled groan, your body tensed, your back arching as you pumped your load into your diaper. The warmth spread through the padding, the wetness seeping into the layers as your hips twitched, once, twice, a few more times, riding out the last waves of pleasure. A whimper escaped you, high and needy, and you collapsed against her, your chest heaving.

For a long moment, there was only the sound of your ragged breathing and the distant crinkle of your diaper, now sticky between your legs. Mommy’s hand stroked your hair, her touch gentle. "There you go," she said, her voice full of affection. "Good boy." She shifted you slightly, and you could feel the mess you’d made, the way the diaper sagged with the weight of it.

She chuckled, the sound vibrating through her chest and into you. "Now let’s get you cleaned up." Her fingers tapped your thigh, light and playful. "Unless you want to sit in that for a while?"

"Unless you want to sit in that for a while?"

No, thank you!

yes, please!

"Whimper"

Voting ended onMay 25

[caregiver-post]

I picked this bra out special baby since it matches your diapee🧷🥰💙

[pamperedinpink]

Tankoo Mommy 😵‍💫🥹

[dailymommymilky]

[canttitlethisbaby]

Before she'd even left for her freshman year Marcie's mom Dina had started going on about how she wasn't going to have anyone to take care of, how she wanted someone who needed her.

Marcie had rolled her eyes. Dina had had her when she had been Marcie's age. Her mom never showed it but Marcie knew being a young, single mom hadn't been easy, a fact that she brought up whenever she'd had enough of her mom's fantasies. "Really mom, you want sleepless nights, spit up, tantrums, dirty diapers?" she'd ask. Every time she brought that up a smile and faraway look would cross Dina's face.

Her mom was single so Marcie wasn't worried about becoming a big sister. Shortly into her sophomore year her mom casually mentioned that she was taking in a young man, Miles. Apparently he was some second cousin twice removed or something. Marcie couldn't really care being so far away. He'd apparently hadn't had luck finding work after he graduated and had moved to the city and would be staying at their house while he got his footing.

Marcie didn't think anything of it. She'd occasionally get a brief update at the end of the phone call, "oh your cousin's been having such a hard time getting a job, poor thing." One time she called her mom to catch up but couldn't hear a word she was saying. "Sorry for the background noise hun, running some sheets. Poor Miles has had a tough time lately." Marcie had just moved on once the din of the laundry machine had gone down.

Finally, Marcie's school work was wrapping up for the year. She hadn't been home in a while but work or internships had failed to materialize that summer so she was heading back home to try and get work there.

She got dropped off at her house in the afternoon. She opened the door but no one greeted her. The house seemed normal for the most part but something felt strange, maybe it was just that it'd been so long since she'd been home, but there was a lingering energy that Marcie couldn't put her finger on. She left her bag in the foyer and called out for her mom. "Up here!" she heard her mom's voice coming from the guest room.

The guest room door was wide open. Marcie assumed the grown man in the diaper was Miles, her distant cousin. The shock of seeing a grown man using a pacifier and wearing the thickest diaper she'd ever seen was almost as great at seeing the smile on her mother's face. Marcie wondered if she looked as shocked as Miles. "Hello," she finally managed to say.

Dina stood up, lifting Miles's pj's over his bulging bottom as she did. "See Miles," she cooed into the man's ear "I told you your cousin wasn't going to make fun of you. Now you had a big day today, so we definitely need a nap. I'll come get you when it's time for din din, kay baby?" The young man nodded sharply then crawled into bed, snuggling his head into the pillow, his thickly diapered bottom rising above his back.

Dina quietly closed the door, put her finger to her lips, then beckoned Marcie down stairs, leading her to the dining room.

Sitting at the dining room table Dina explained how the past few months had affected poor Miles. What started as occasional bedwetting soon became a nightly habit that started to spill into the mornings, then afternoons, then evenings. "I've had to buy the poor boy new pants, the one he brought with were too smelly before I convinced the silly thing that he needed to wear diapers until we figured this out."

"So out of the blue this guy just started peeing himself?" Marcie had her arms crossed and an eyebrow raised. "Hun, the poor boy has been beside himself. You don't think I'd have a hand in that?" Marcie didn't want to believe that, but she also wondered how much of her mom's help was aimed at stopping these accidents.

Dina continued, "no doctors have found anything wrong with him, physically. I've talked to a therapist who says that it's an issue of compounding reinforcement on self image. Miles feels like he's failed as an adult by not living on his own and not jumping in to a career. The stress of that likely started his bedwetting which further reinforced his image as immature which led to pantswetting, which led to diapers, which led to messy accidents-

"Mom he's shitting himsel-!" Marcie didn't mean to say it so loudly and cut herself off as her mom shushed her.

"One morning a month ago I came out of the bathroom to see Miles with a thoroughly overused pull up. He didn't know he was going back to diapers anyway. He'd leaked through too many pullups. Poor thing." Marcie saw the look of concern on her mom's face. It looked genuine enough, she thought, she probably isn't poisoning him or anything.

"So he's back in diaper now mom, for good?"

"I talked to his mother, and the therapist. Miles is now... having his self-image radically readjusted. We don't know where it will stop, but when it does we may be able to build him back from there." Dina stood up straight and looked Marcie straight in the eyes. "What we can do, will do though, is make sure Miles knows he is loved and supported throughout. Yes dear, I know how strange it is, but his mother and the therapist agreed, this is the best place for him now. They're both providing the support they can, but altering his life more, like moving him again, will only accelerate this process and make recovery more difficult. So he's here for the foreseeable future and I'll need your support."

Marcie's head spun. Coming home she was worried if she'd get a summer gig, now she was looking at being a big sister to a baby bigger than her. "Mom I-"

"Hun I'm not asking you to be his nanny. I don't know how much help he'll- I'm just asking for now at least, be kind."

Marcie gulped and nodded. "Yeah mom, of course."

Dinner that night was mostly silent. Miles shuffled downstairs after his nap. Marcie could here him crinkling even as she set the table. She tried her best to smile at him, then spent the rest of the meal staring at her plate. Her mom took the empty dishes to the kitchen when she heard the crinkles again, then the whimpering. She looked over to see Miles looking panicked as he fidgeted in his seat. He looked around the table frantically then shoved his thumb in his mouth, still fidgeting.

"Hey, uh Miles, do you want to um take your thumb out, or uh, where's your pacifier?" Marcie tried her best to sound sympathetic. She scanned the table too, seeing the pacifier right by his elbow. She picked it up and held it in front of him. "Here, use this." She felt ridiculous offering a pacifier to a guy in his 20's. Miles continued to fidget and whine behind his thumb that he was sucking faster and faster.

Marcie gently took the thumb out of his mouth and slid his pacifier in. Miles eyes went wide and dulled, his fidgeting slowed, and he started to pee his diaper. Marcie heard the hiss and stumbled back into her chair, watching the grown man let loose into his thirsty padding. He wasn't even done when Dina walked back in the room.

"Ah did Marcie help you find your paci Miles, isn't she sweet? Oh and I think I know where all that juice you had before your nap went too!"

Dina moved to stand Miles up and prodded the slightly sagging padding around his waist. Marcie took that as her chance to leave back to her room.

The rest of the week Marcie spent as much time as she could looking for work. She needed to find a job, not just for money but to have an excuse to be out of the house. Dina had said that Marcie would always have opportunities to earn money by helping with Miles. Marcie did eventually find a job, at a restaurant, working mid week lunch shifts.

She wasn't pleased that she managed to find such a meager money flow but at least she was earning something and by staying at home she was keeping her costs close to nothing, and by having a job she had an excuse to get out of the bizarre world her home was turning in to.

Every day she came home from work that world crept further into the house. Sippy cups and bottles started appearing in the dishwasher. She saw more and more toys strewn across the living room. A stack of diapers and changing supplies appeared in the corner next to the sofa one day. Marcie looked at them, thick, crinkly, some plain white and others adorned with cute patterns.

Miles was changing too, rapidly. After her third day at work she was setting the table for dinner when Miles came down as shy and bashful as her first day back. Marcie looked at him wondering where her mom had found a diaper to match his t-shirt before realizing what he was wearing.

"Doesn't Miles look adorable in his new onesie darling?" Dina said as she put an arm around him. "These help keep his diapers from sagging, we don't want them falling off him after all!" Marcie forced a smile, "Yeah Miles, uh, looking sharp." Marcie doubted she delivered the line with conviction but chose to take his increased pacifier sucking as a sign that she'd mollified the young man. His pacifier is on a ribbon! She thought, only to be further surprised when her mom snapped a silicon bib around his neck and put a plastic plate of finger food in front of him.

"Now Marcie, I know you have tomorrow off, in the morning I'm having a few things delivered for Miles's room, can you help us set it up?"

Marcie looked between them for a moment. "Uhm yeah, sure mom, happy to help." Her mom beamed and turned to Miles. "See baby! I told you she'd be a helper!"

The next morning after breakfast the three of them brought a half dozen boxes up to Miles's room. Marcie had avoided the space since her first day and was surprised at how much had changed. All the posters of cars and skateboarders had been taken down and toys ranging from legos to giant ring stacks were piled up in a corner by Miles's bed. She saw the shelf in the small closet was stacked practically to the ceiling with bags of adult diapers. How long does she expect this to go on, Marcie thought.

The three of them got to work opening the boxes with Dina directing where to put what. It was a familiar pattern to Marcie. Just like Ikea she thought and she slid another plank over a row of dowels. She stood back and realized what it was. "Mom are these, crib bars?"

She turned to the corner where her mom and Miles were working. "Yes dear, Miles has had a few spills at night lately, probably trying to get to the potty. I'm surprised you haven't heard. We don't want him getting any big boo boos and this will help keep him snug and safe!" Dina walked over to the assembled bars and motioned to Dina to lift with her. They carried the piece over to Mile's bed and set it on the frame, where Dina moved around clipping the base onto the frame. The two stood back. Marcie figured that if Miles stood the bars would be at his belly button. She turned back to Miles, who was looking at his new bed with what Marcie thought may be wonder, or confusion. Marcie pieced together what he and Dina had been working on too. It resembled a massage table with shelves built in. A changing table, Marcie realized.

"You two have been so helpful, Marcie why don't you and Miles play in the living room for a bit. I can put on some finishing touches up here." Dina looked at her daughter and nodded slowly as she spoke. Marcie sighed, she'd been avoiding Miles and she knew it, Miles probably did too. The man wasn't going anywhere anytime soon, and it looked like he'd be like this for at least the rest of the summer. You don't buy a guy a changing table if potty training is in the cards.

"Oh look, race cars, these look like fun!" Marcie dumped the box of toy cars on the rug and sat on the living room sofa with her phone. She watched Miles get on his knees and crawl to the toys and start to play. She scrolled aimlessly for a minute before she heard the sound of playing stop and she looked to see Miles on his knees facing her. He had a blank look on his face. not the blank look he sometimes got when watching a cartoon or peeing. He looked like he might be presenting a project to a class, if he weren't wearing a t-shirt and a diaper, Marcie thought to herself.

"I-I sowwy," he began and cleared his throught. "I'm sorry- about all this, being here like this," he began to sniffle.

Marcie leaned forward, feeling sympathy for hadn't felt for the man a few years older than her. "It's ok Miles, this all must be, a lot like a lot for you."

Tears were brimming Miles's eyes. "I don't wanna be a big baby but it's better dan, is betta dun..." He looked at the ground around him for a moment before putting his thumb in his mouth. Marcie saw his face relax and his shoulders slacken.

"I dun wanna be a big diapie baby, bu being a baby is betta dan bein scawed." Marcie nodded, this was the most she'd heard Miles talk in the nearly two weeks she'd been home. Miles took his thumb out of his mouth, took in a big gulp of air and continued.

"Like before it was like I was falling, all da time, and now I'm like gliding? Or like dere's a big fluffy thing I know'll catch me, and your mommy... Your mommy's really nice and pretty and I know I'm safe and she's happy." Miles trailed off and put his thumb back in his mouth.

Marcie put her phone down, slid off the sofa, and looked at Miles. "Miles baby, it's ok, my mom is definitely happy. I'm glad she's able to help you. I'm glad we're here to help you." Miles nodded and smiled. "Wanna show me some of your cars?" Marcie asked.

She lost track of time playing with Miles. They barely spoke, mostly giggled, as they ran toy cars over and into thing on the living room rug.

Marcie went to the dining room to grab a car Miles had manage to slide under the table. When she turned around she saw Miles on his feet in a deep squat, with one hand on his stomach and a thumb in his mouth.

As Marcie slowly walked to him Mile's grunted and strained as he loaded the seat of his diaper. Marcie watched his diaper droop closer to the ground. She heard his diaper crinkle as it expanded. Without thinking she reached down and grabbed his hands. He took them and shakily pulled himself up, stopping briefly to push more mess into his bloated diaper.

Marcie stared mouth agape at the man in her living room pooping his diaper. She'd been dreading this, she'd tried to ignore the scents creeping over the house. The sweeter scents of baby powder and skin lotions were easy to ignore, but she'd refused to name the lingering scents of Miles's accidents that had been creeping out of his room and around the house. She knew that if Miles was really regressing that'd mean wet and messy diapers would be a daily fact of life. Now she was awash in the stench of Miles's soiled diaper. It hung in the air like a fog. As gross as I suspected it would, she thought. She stared and him, looking down at him as he stood there bowlegged, his face still red from straining, a bit of snot beneath his nose.

"P-po-poopy." Miles said as he stood up with his legs bowed.

Marcie laughed. Her laughter surprised Miles, and herself. Her first experience, one of many to come she realized, of looking at this man in his poopy diaper. "Yeah baby, definitely poopy, and stinky!" Seeing a frown start to form on his face Marcie continued. "Miles, it's ok. That's what your diapers are for, remember? You're in diapers so using them is what you're supposed to do." She said it flatly, as much for herself as for the young man in front of her.

The stood staring at each other silently for a moment before another stinky waft reached Marcie's nose. She waved a hand in front of her nose "Pee-yew Miles! Are all your diapers this stinky?"

That got a giggle out of him. I'm joking with a man about his poopy diaper, she thought. This stinks, it literally stinks so bad, but that's it? Marcie pondered, the diaper was here, yucky and smelly, but it's manageable, not a car crash level disaster she'd been making it out to be. It really was smelly though.

"Ok, let's get my mom to take care of this." Miles nodded and walked towards the stairs. Marcie looked at the back of his diaper, plastic stretched and drooping. Watching the slightly discolored seat sway with his waddling steps. They stood next to each other back in the doorway of Miles's bedroom, though bedroom didn't do the space justice, Marcie thought. This was a nursery. The room had changed so much she forgot for a moment how much Miles reeked.

The crib's sheets were light blue and adorned with ducks and sheep, the changing table had a plastic cover as well, similarly adorned with cartoon animals. Beneath the cover Dina had filled the shelves with diapers and changing supplies. A play carpet covered center of the room.

Dina stood proudly in the center of the nursery and her smile grew bigger when her nose started to twitch. "Miles, did you know I just finished putting your changing supplies away? Is that why I'm smelling a dirty diaper?" She embraced the young man and pulled back the back of his diaper. Marcie winced as the stench increased.

"Oh my! I'll say this is the right diaper to christen your new changing table! What do you say we get you out of this yucky thing?" Miles nodded his head against Dina's breasts. Marcie briefly caught her mother's eyes as she left the room making sure to close the door behind her.

That evening, after Miles had been tucked into his new crib, Marcie and Dina sat on the sofa with a bottle of wine. Dina, Marcie noted, was glowing.

"Thank you so much for your help today with Miles dear," Dina rested a hand on her daughter's arm. "Today could have been a tough one. I'm so proud of how you both handled it."

"And how are you handling it Mom? It seems like you're in it for the long haul." Marcie watched her mom's expression as a smile settled, left, then returned.

"Well the poor boy is likely to be like this for some time. We're supposed to wait for his regression to settle, then look for signs of growth again, similar to a toddler." Marcie noted Dina's frown as she said 'growth.' Dina perked up again. "But until that happens we'll keep Miles will be safe, happy, and clean. Speaking of which, let me know if you want to help with changing any diapers." Dina chuckled and Marci rolled her eyes.

Three days later Marcie changed her first diaper. She didn't have a shift that day so she was helping feed Miles his lunch while her mom picked up more groceries. She was spooning some fruit into Miles's open mouth, trying to tamp down on how adorable she thought he looked when she heard a familiar hissing. She was used to that sound but was startled by the sound of liquid on plastic, then the drip of liquid on the floor.

She looked down underneath the highchair tray and saw a staned onesie straining over a saturated diaper. Miles's accident had broken containment and his seat was filling, with his pee overflowing onto the floor. Miles had tears flowing down his cheeks and Marcie quickly pushed his paci between his lips. She didn't know when her mom would be back so Marcie removed the tray and avoiding the puddle hugged Miles's face to her chest. "Sshhh baby, I'm sorry you got a leaky diaper. Let's take care of that ok?"

Marcie stood the young man up, carefully stripped off his clothes leaving him in just a yellow, squishy, saggy diaper, and walked him closer to the changing supplies.

On a changing mat on the living room floor Marcie untaped Miles's bloated diaper. With her encounters with penises at this point, few had been flaccid. Marcie marveled at how smooth Miles's crotch was. The smell wasn't too bad she thought as she wiped him down. It's about as bad a typical port-o-potty she thought. As she finished wiping him Miles's penis started to twitch. She was quick with the powder and taping him up. Dina came home a minute later, assessed the scene, and instructed Marcie to feed Miles a bottle on the sofa while she cleaned up. Marcie felt a strange serenity looking down at Miles's closed eyes as he lay in her lap nursing his oversized baby bottle.

Two days later she changed her first messy diaper. Work had been rough. The kitchen was less competent than usual and the customers, the few that there were, were more miserable and miserly than ever before. Marcie felt her spirits lift when she was greeted home with a bear hug from Miles as soon as she walked in. She'd grown used to the smell of his shampoo and the ever lingering sweet scent of baby powder that clung to him. She breathed the smells in and felt the stress start to leave her. After a moment though she felt Miles stir, his head sliding down slightly against her collar bone. She was confused when it felt like Miles was bucking against her, then she heard the squelching sound of his diaper expand and the soiled smell wafted up to her.

She pulled back and looked at Miles with his goofy, mouth agape grin and wide eyes. Her nose wrinkled and she waived a hand in front of her nose. "Really couldn't wait to see me could you buddy?" Miles let out a small laugh and blushed. "Where's Dina?" Marcie asked calmly but the stench was getting stronger. "She's in da showa," Miles said as he stood up with a wide stance. Shit, Marcie thought, her mom took her time in the shower and she didn't want to have to endure the dirty diaper stench that long, or have Miles stay in a poopy diaper that long. "Ok buddy, let's get you changed." Marcie grabbed Miles's hand and took him to his nursery.

He's better behaved than an actual baby during a diaper change, there's that at least, Marcie thought to herself as Miles lay still holding his legs up on his changing table. That's about it though. Cleaning him up stunk, it smelled worse than a port-o-potty on the last day of a music festival. Still, she made progress, wipe after wipe, until Miles was cleaned, lotioned, powdered, and diapered again. Marcie held the offending diaper at arms length and dropped it in the diaper pail. She knew it wasn't even a particularly full one. From the way she'd seen his diapers sag and stain she put it on the lighter side of medium. Still, she was glad to have it gone. She turned to see Miles sitting up on the changing table wearing just a shirt and new clean diaper. He smiled behind his paci as it bobbed between his lips and he swung his legs back and forth. Marcie's first adult baby poopy diaper change had been gross, probably the grossest thing she'd ever done. It still wasn't the worst part of my day though, she thought.

The house changed after that. Marcie no longer tiptoed around the adult baby in her midst and Miles didn't seem to feel any more trepidation around Marcie either. He was always about now, no longer holed up in his room. Marcie would see him playing on his own or with her mom when she woke up and when she got home.

Her mom was overjoyed when she heard about Marcie's first dirty diaper change. Marcie didn't think Dina had been holding back but she certainly wasn't after that. Her joy shone bright as she nuzzled, cuddled, cood, and pampered her adult baby man. Marcie herself enjoyed playing with what she was growing to view more and more and her big baby brother. His happiness was infectious.

As she grew more comfortable she stopped treating Miles like he was going to break at any moment. Growing up an only child she found herself enjoying the chance to tease the man a few years older than herself.

"Mom, careful before you come in here, Miles just dropped an absolute bomb in his diaper."

"Miles, you need another diaper change, your not getting paid for this are you?"

"I know bigger boys make bigger boom boom but seriously dude what has my mom been feeding you?!"

Her comments usually got a giggle out of the adult baby, and if she saw his lip start to quiver a quick ruffle of his hair or peck on the cheek got him smiling again.

She still relegated more diaper changes to her mom but Marcie did handle more adult baby care. Dina, to her credit, never pushed for Marcie to babysit but with most of her friend's away Marcie didn't have much reason to go out and spend money on the weekends when she could stay in and earn it. So Marcie spent more time playing with Miles, feeding him, giving him his nightly baths, and reading him stories.

Miles was less reluctant to leave their house when Marcie and Dina could both go. So the three of them tried to make it out at least twice a week, Miles holding their hands in between them, to parks, the zoo, and the movies.

Occasionally Marcie would stop and think about how strange it all was, how it must look to the neighbors who'd caught glimpses of the adult baby boy living on their street, but those quickly faded away as everyday life demanded more attention.

The day Marcie left to go back to school Miles had been a wreck. She'd quit her job the week before and had spent her free time with him. She was so happy she'd got him to laugh when she read him a story before his afternoon nap. Her mom and her had agreed that it'd be best if she left when he was asleep. She'd lingered in the doorway of his nursery and watched his chest rise and fall as he slept softly in his crib.

Down in their doorway Marcie hugged Dina. Marcie knew Dina would do fine on her own with Miles. That was something that concerned her actually. Miles was a young adult, and cute as he was waddling around in diapers he probably would want to become an adult again, sooner rather than later. Marcie knew her mom loved Miles, probably as much as her mom loved her, and she knew how much joy her mom got from having someone need her.

"Mom before I go... with Miles... don't forget..." Don't forget he's a grown man and this is all really fucking weird. Don't forget that as much as you love changing diapers and spoon feeding him he needs to grow up as soon as he can. Dina thought all that, and also held the last image of him, sleeping and snuggling his teddy.

"Yes hun, what shouldn't I forget?" Dina said with a knowing smile.

"Don't forget to check the baby during naps more often. He's been going poo poo more and more often when he sleeps, and don't forget to send me pictures of him too. I want to show my friends at school what a cutie he is." Marcie gulped and grabbed her bags. "And don't forget to tell him that his big sister Marcie loves him and I'll be back sooner than he can shake a rattle."

They both wiped tears from their eyes. "Of course hun. I wont forget any of that. You have a good time at school, we'll be here when you get back."

[sparka403-deactivated20230912]

[coralgardendreamertaco-blog]

Cuck

Abdl

Humiliating

Diaper

Boobs

[bbcharlotte]

[bbcharlotte]

[babyteaseadventures-deactivated]

A little blooper video from a diaper change by Miss Jess when we were in Chicago! Always so much fun playing with the baby 💕 🍼 Greedy little Hippo wants all the diaper rubs!!

[pinksissybaby]

Bliss 💝

[stinky-in-pinky]

Talking Him Through It

“You had to have known this was coming, didn’t you baby?" She said, "Be honest with me. Did you really think you were just going to be peeing in your diapers all the time and that was it? That you’d get to keep some scrap of big-boy dignity while waddling around in thick padding?" She let the silence hang. "No… deep down you knew this moment was inevitable. You knew that one day you’d be right here, on your knees, feeling that heavy pressure build, and you’d have no choice but to make your first real poopy diaper right in front of me.”

Mike let out a soft, mortified whimper, his face already burning crimson as he shifted uncomfortably on his knees, eyes darting away. “Valerie… please,” he whispered, voice shaking with embarrassment. “I-I didn’t think it would actually go this far. I can’t… it’s too humiliating. Can we please not do this? I don't think I can--”

"Shh..." Valerie said, pressing a finger firmly to his lips to silence him. "No more of that whining. This is how it is now. This is your new normal. And protesting only makes you look even more pathetic than you already do. You’re just going to have to accept it.”

The tension thickened unbearably. Mike’s breathing turned shallow and ragged, soft desperate whines as he clenched instinctively, trying to fight the inevitable. His hands fidgeted at his sides, knees pressing hard into the rug while waves of humiliation crashed over him.

“I really can’t do this,” he whined, voice cracking pathetically. “It’s going to be so gross and—and—and...Please, Val! I’m begging you! Please don't make me do this...”

Valerie tilted her head slightly, her expression calm and almost sweetly pitying as she looked down at him. “Oh, sweetie… I’m not making you do anything. This is what you wanted, remember? You were the one who begged me to put you in diapers in the first place.”

Mike shook his head desperately, tears already welling in his eyes. “But I didn't want this!" He whined, "I just wanted to feel little and taken care of. Maybe wet a diaper or two. But I never thought you’d actually make me do…all of this!"

Valerie gave a soft, amused chuckle and reached out to cup his burning cheek, gently wiping away a leaky tear with her thumb. “Sweetheart, you know I don’t do anything half-assed. You wanted me to take control. You wanted me to treat you like my widdle baybee. Well, this is what that looks like. You don’t get to pick and choose which parts feel good and which parts are too gross or embarrassing. I was being nice before, letting you use the potty for your dirty business. But those days are over. The diapers aren’t just for cute little wettings anymore...they’re your potty now. For all of it. This is what you asked for. Now you’re going to live with it."

Mike let out another broken whimper, face burning with shame. “Please… I’m begging you. Just this once, can’t we—”

But before he could get out another word, a pacifier was pressed into his mouth.

"Shhh...no more talking," she said, her tone firm and unsympathetic. “Just pushing. You’re done protesting. Now be a good boy and focus on filling that diaper like you know you need to.”

Mike’s made pathetic little sounds around the pacifier as he sucked on it instinctively. His face burned hotter than ever, tears of pure shame glistening in his eyes. He tried to look down, to avoid that look, as if it would give him some semblance of privacy, but Valerie lifted his chin with a single finger, forcing his gaze back up to hers.

“Look at me, baby. Eyes up here. I want to watch your face while you do it. Let Mommy see every little grunt, every little squint, every little strain. Feel that pressure building stronger and stronger? That’s your body telling you it’s time for your first poopy diaper. This is how it goes from now on. Now relax your bottom… it’s time. Let Mommy see exactly what a helpless little pants-pooper looks like!”

The pacifier quivered in his mouth. Mike held out for another long, agonizing moment, muffled whines vibrating around the silicone as his cheeks puffed slightly from sucking on it. Then, with a shaky, defeated breath, he finally gave in.

The first hesitant push came slowly. His face contorted in visible effort, brow furrowed, eyes squeezed half-shut in embarrassment as he stared up at her. A faint, muffled crackling sound broke the silence as the seat of the diaper began to expand, the bright little cars stretching obscenely while the warm, mushy mess pushed out. The sensation hit him instantly: the growing warmth, the heavy bulge forming between his legs, the unmistakable squish beginning to settle against him. Fresh shame flooded his cheeks as the reality sank in, he was actually doing it, right in front of her, grunting softly around the pacifier.

“Awww!! There we go!!” Valerie giggled, her voice warm with approval but still laced with that unyielding dominance. “You're doing it! You're making poo-poo's!! Ah-ah! Don't look away! Eyes on me. Just like that. Theeere we go!! Good boy! Your first poopy diaper as a grown man!! How's that feel, hmm? Go on! Keep pushing! Get it alllll out into your widdle diapy!! This is how you go potty from now on! Right here on your knees, facing Mommy, filling your diaper while I watch every humiliating second of your face. No more bathrooms, no more dignity. Just warm, squishy messes in your pants whenever nature calls."

Mike let out a higher, mortified whine around the pacifier as another he continued pushing, his cheeks flushing deeper, eyes watering as the diaper grew even heavier, the material rounding out noticeably.

"Just like that, baby! You're doing so well!!" she continued, leaning in closer. "Look at you making biggg boom-booms in your diaper where the little cars go vroom vroom!! Hahaha! Mommy can see that diaper sagging more and more with every little push! Feel that warm mush filling up your seat? Mommy's so proud of you!"

The smell began to drift upward, growing stronger with each passing second.

"Oof!" Valerie wrinkled her nose and wafted a hand in front of her face. "Stinky boy!! Is that you?? Are you the one making all that smell?? You're doing so amazing, sweetheart! Making a big, stinky present for Mommy! That's it. Keep pushing, baby...get it all out! I want that diaper nice and full for your very first time.”

He whimpered helplessly around the pacifier, knees trembling as the diaper sagged lower and lower, the back growing thick and heavy with a final, unmistakable crinkle. The warm, mushy weight settled heavily against him, and the pungent smell became impossible to ignore.

“That’s my good little diaper boy,” she cooed, pinching his crimson cheek, “doing his big stinky business right where he’s supposed to.”

Mike stayed on his knees, breathing shakily around the pacifier, the thick, warm mess squishing with every tiny movement. He didn’t know what was worse: the heavy, squishy feeling or the awful smell now hanging in the air. His face burned with utter shame.

“All done?” Valerie asked cheerfully.

Mike gave a small, defeated nod.

“Say ‘all done!’” she instructed, demonstrating the little hand sign she used when feeding him, raising her hands and twisting them. “Come on! Do the sign like a good baybee!”

Blushing furiously, Mike mimicked the stupid motion back at her with shaky hands while mumbling “aw done” around the pacifier. Nothing like telling your wife that you're done crapping all over yourself.

Valerie clapped her hands rapidly in delight. “Yayy!!! You did it, baby! Your first poopy diaper like the pathetic little boi you are now! And there will be sooo many more just like it in your future! But first…”

She leaned forward and gently plucked the pacifier from his mouth.

“I need to hear you say it,” she said, her voice sweet but commanding. “Tell Mommy exactly what you just did. Use your big-boy words. What happened back there? Be specific and honest about what a messy, stinky baby you’ve become. Make it good if you want any chance of being changed.”

Mike hesitated, another tiny mortified whine escaping him. Fresh waves of embarrassment washed over his face, but her expectant silence pressed down until he finally mumbled, red-faced and defeated, barely above a whisper:

“I… I went p-p-p-poo-poo's, Mommy... I...m-messed myself… ”

“Louder, sweetie. Don’t mumble. Tell me what a stinky little pants-pooper you are now.”

He swallowed hard, tears of humiliation pricking at his eyes. “I pooped my diaper… I went potty in my pants like a stupid baybee. I filled it all up and now it’s all squishy and stinky back there… and...and..." he didn't know what else to say. What words could capture how degraded he felt?

But Valerie nodded, satisfied, her voice steady and final, wrinkling her nose slightly with a knowing smile as the smell lingered. "That’s right. Your first dirty diaper, and far from the last. This is exactly how it goes from now on. No more fighting it. No more big-boy excuses or dignity. When you have to go, you come tell Mommy what you need to do...or you use your diaper right then and there."

She paused, eyes sparkling with mischief. Mike's throat tightened.

“But I’m gonna need you to do one more thing for me before you get changed, mmkay pumpkin?" She let the silence and anticipation hang again, then continued, "Since this is your first one, I need you to really feel it. To get used to it. So I’m gonna need you to sit down on your bum-bum, okay? Can you do that for Mommy?”

Mike’s eyes widened in fresh horror. “Val… please, no,” he whispered, voice cracking, wriggling in the ruined diaper. “It’s already so gross and heavy… Please don’t make me—”

“Awww, poor baby!!" Valerie cooed, her voice dripping with fake sympathy. "Look at you! all teary-eyed and cringing. It’s okay, sweetie. Mommy knows it feels yucky right now. But this is part of it. You wanted to be my little boy in diapers… so now you have to learn what that really means.”

"But can't I just—"

"Do you want to stay in that warm, squishy, stinky diaper even longer?" Valerie snapped, her voice turning firm and sharp. "Because I can leave you like this allll afternoon if you’d rather. Your choice.”

Mike sobbed softly, his shoulders shaking. But she was right, he didn't want to stay in this nasty mess any longer. Defeated, he shook his head ‘no’.

“Then sit,” she said sweetly, but with steel underneath. “Right on your bulgey little bottom. Now.”

The heavy, mushy weight already felt unbearable. Humiliated beyond words, he slowly lowered himself onto the striped rug.

The moment his bottom made contact, the warm mess squished loudly beneath him with a wet, crinkly squelch. The thick load spread out, pressing up and around him in the most degrading way imaginable. He let out a sharp, mortified cry, his whole body cringing from his toes to his spine as the mush molded disgustingly against his skin.

“Therrre we go!!” Valerie cooed, her voice flipping back to that soft, motherly tone. “Hear that squish? Feel how it’s all spreading and smearing inside your diapy? That’s your big stinky poo-poo's, baby! You made that! All of that! Now wriggle for Mommy… bounce up and down. Really feel it squishing everywhere. Good boy.”

Mike whimpered and cried, fresh tears rolling down his burning cheeks as he obeyed. He shifted his weight from side to side, then gave a small, reluctant bounce. The mess squelched loudly again, spreading further and coating him more thoroughly. Another broken sob escaped him.

“Shhh, shhh...that's it. Cry it out, baby. Let it all sink in.” Valerie said, feigning pity while her eyes sparkled with amusement. She reached out and gently stroked his hair. “Such a sad widdle baybee sitting in his own dirty diaper. Does it feel all warm and nasty back there? Does it feel gross? Poor thing… but you’re going to get sooo used to this. I promise! This heavy, stinky, squishy feeling? It's your new normal. No more running to the bathroom like a real grown-up. Just you squatting and pottying in your pampers whenever you need to."

It was his fault. It was all his fault.

He asked for this. He wanted the diapers, he wanted her to take control. But he should have known. He should have thought it all the way through. He just never thought it would lead to...this.

She let him sit there for a long moment, letting the reality sink deep into his bones, before finally standing up from the couch. She held out her hand, smiling down at him with that sweet, knowing smile.

“Come on, baby." She said, "Waddle to your room. Let's go change your first dirty diaper!”

[prettyprettypaci3]

Diaper humiliation.

I know, I know. You're picturing a big, dramatic scene where I pull down your pants, spank you into submission, tape you into a thick diaper and lock it into place.

You know what's so much more delicious to me? Diaper humiliation as routine. As lifestyle. As background noise.

You come home from work and swap out your house keys for a big pacifier, which you clip to your collar. You pull out your phone as you walk to the living room, casually removing your pants and underwear with your other hand. You lie down on the floor and spread your bare legs in the air, assuming the expected position as you submissively wait for your nightly diaper. Your legs dangle there stupidly as you suckle and scroll.

I let you dawdle like that for a minute or two before coming to oil and powder your bottom. You tell me about your day, drooling a bit through your paci, and I tell you about mine. I fold up the diaper nice and tight against your waiting bum and seal it.

No scene. No roleplay. No taunting or threats. Peeing in diapers and sucking pacifiers are just your everyday home life, as much as Netflix and takeout would be for a normal couple.

Because every once in a while, when you're not expecting it — as you're waddling to the kitchen in your soggy pampers or feeling a rope of drool ooze onto your dinner bib — it hits you like a ton of bricks: What a silly diapered dummy you are! When did being drooly, padded, and humiliated become so natural to you? So unremarkable? Your face will get hot, you'll feel squirmy in your tummy, and it will be so delicious, because it came out of nowhere.

Make it routine.

[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.