When the mistress ordered him diapered, he was diapered. No questions, no discussion, no pants, no toilets.

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@humbled-again
When the mistress ordered him diapered, he was diapered. No questions, no discussion, no pants, no toilets.
The Handoff
18+ Only!
“So he wasn’t a bedwetter?” Tina asked.
Caroline laughed. It was the haughty, drawn-out laugh she used when she knew something that no one else did and wanted to savor the moment. “Oh, no, no. He was quite typical in that regard, or so my husband told me. ‘Timothy hit all of the little developmental milestones right on time,’ he said when we started dating.”
She brushed at some invisible wrinkle on her old-fashioned blouse with her long, thin fingers.
I squirmed next to her, acutely aware of the crinkling sound every movement made, and of how my discomfort only fed her egomania. I couldn’t help myself.
“So if not bedwetting…what was it?” Tina prompted. She was leaning in now, as if my diapers were life’s great mystery.
Keep reading
Photo credit: from @master4betas
my caption.
Diapers are a girls best friend.
They keep your man faithful, after all, who would he be willing to try with?
They keep the bathroom clean, he's not using them anymore.
Makes him humble, tired of male bravado? Its hard to be bold when youre getting powdered for you next pamper.
Keeps him attentive, he needs a change? He will make sure youre happy.
No more surprises with damp underwear or streak marks.
Diapers make a better man, and a better man makes a happier woman.
Every male bedwetter knows the dangers of sleeping on your stomach without adjusting your "member" downwards. 😳💦
Oh my
Someone has been a very naughty boy

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(all characters are above 18) The bright yellow nursery smelled of baby powder and fresh laundry, its walls adorned with cheerful ABC blocks, cartoon kittens, and smiling teddy bears. Sunlight streamed through the lace-curtained window, casting a soft, innocent glow over the scene that made the humiliation all the more cruel.
Jake stood trembling inside the sturdy white wooden crib, his hands gripping the top rail so tightly his knuckles were white. His light blue button-down shirt was rumpled, and his brown pants bore a large, dark, unmistakable wet stain spreading across the crotch and down one leg. Tears streamed down his flushed cheeks as he sobbed openly, his body shaking with shame and desperation.
It had all started that afternoon. He and his cousin Emily had been alone in a room. One thing led to another (curiosity, hormones, stupidity) and he had touched her, tried to go further, tried to fuck her. Emily had screamed, pushed him away, and run straight to her mother, Aunt Margaret.
Now, here he was. Aunt Margaret had dragged him by the ear into the nursery, declared it “time-out in the baby crib for naughty little boys who can’t keep their hands to themselves,” and locked the side rail up with a firm click. She had ordered him to take a forced afternoon nap like the infant he was acting like. When he had begged and pleaded for the bathroom, banging on the crib bars and calling out in vain, no one came. His bladder had given out. He had wet himself helplessly right there in the crib, soaking his pants like a toddler who couldn’t hold it.
The door opened. Aunt Margaret stepped in, still wearing her pretty blue floral dress and crisp white ruffled apron, a string of pearls around her neck. In one arm she carried a thick stack of fluffy white terry cloth diapers. In her other hand dangled several oversized diaper pins with big, colorful babyish safety caps shaped like little ducks and teddy bears. A smug, mocking smile played on her lips as she looked at the crying boy in the crib.
“Tsk tsk tsk,” she clucked, shaking her head slowly. “Look at the ‘big boy’ who wet himself. Ugh? And you wanted to put your little dickie in my daughter? Ah ah ah…” She let out a light, condescending laugh that made Jake’s stomach twist.
Jake’s face burned with mortification. “Aunt Margaret, please… I’m sorry! It was an accident! I didn’t mean...I’m not a baby! Let me out, I’ll clean up, I swear!”
She ignored his pleas and approached the crib, her heels clicking on the hardwood floor. “You know the rules in this house, young man. You wet the bed...or the crib...so I put you back in diapers. That’s how it works for little boys who can’t control themselves.”
She laughed again, a bright, amused sound, as she set the stack of diapers down on the changing table nearby. “And only babies wear diapers! So from now on, it’s diapers day and night… and thick ones for sure! Lots of peepee and poopoos! You heard me!”
Jake’s eyes widened in horror. “No! Please, Aunt Margaret, don’t! I'I can’t wear diapers! This is so humiliating...please, I’ll do anything!”
But she only smiled wider. “And googoos too, sweetie. The only thing your little dick will see all summer long are thick, crinkly diapers to wet and hump. And yes, I will make you hump them right in front of Emily during tummy time. Count on it, boy!” She laughed again, clearly enjoying his growing panic.
Jake tried to climb out, fighting and struggling against the crib rails, but Aunt Margaret was faster and stronger than she looked. She reached in, hauled him over the rail with surprising ease, and delivered a series of hard, stinging spanks across his wet bottom that left him howling and kicking. “Bad baby! No fighting Mommy Margaret!”
After the spanking left him sobbing and subdued, she carried him to the diaper changing table and laid him down on his back like an infant. Jake pleaded and begged the entire time, tears flowing freely: “Please… please don’t do this… I’m begging you… I’ll never touch her again… don’t put me in diapers… I’m not a baby!”
Aunt Margaret paid no attention to his cries. She efficiently stripped off his soaked pants and underwear, leaving him completely exposed. Then came the full baby treatment. She slathered his bottom and private area with thick, greasy vaseline....paying special attention to his anus, pushing inside with a clinical finger while he squirmed and whimpered in utter shame. “This will keep you nice and slippery for all those messy diapers, baby.” Next came generous amounts of baby oil, followed by thick layers of diaper rash cream, and finally a heavy dusting of sweet-smelling baby powder that made him cough and blush even harder.
Only then did she begin the diapering. As he cried, she lifted his legs high, slid not one, but three thick terry cloth diapers underneath him, followed by an extra booster pad for maximum absorbency. She pulled them up snugly between his legs, making the bulk enormous and impossible to ignore. With practiced movements she fastened the whole massive bundle tightly with the large diaper pins, their colorful babyish safety caps clicking into place. Over everything she snapped on a pair of noisy, translucent plastic pants that crinkled loudly with every movement.
“There we go,” she cooed mockingly. “Such a thick, puffy baby bottom now. Perfect for a naughty little boy who tried to act grown-up.”
She wasn’t finished. She tied a large, oversized terry cloth bib around his neck, the kind with babyish embroidery, and popped a big pacifier with a long blue ribbon into his mouth, tying the ribbon behind his head so he couldn’t easily spit it out. Jake’s muffled sobs and desperate pleas continued around the pacifier: “Pwease… pwease no… I can’t… thith ith a nightmawe…”
Aunt Margaret smiled down at him lovingly, as if he really were her infant. “By the end of the summer, thanks to lots of vaseline, plenty of bottles, and constant diapering, you’ll have a tiny baby dick again. You’ll be wetting and messing your diapers just like a real baby...completely unable to hold it. I promise you that. I'll call my sister regularly to complain in have no choice as you wet and mess your diapers on your own. Ah ah! But i'll be true when she comes to take you back!"
She lifted him off the changing table and placed him back into the crib, raising the side rail with a decisive click. “Now you’ll spend the rest of the afternoon napping like a good baby. And this is just the beginning of your summer, little one. Morning naps, afternoon naps, and very long baby nights in your crib. You’ll be eating nothing but baby food from now on. Every single diaper change will be long, slow, and completely humiliating...right in front of whoever happens to be watching. Emily will also change you and spankin you! And yes, I promise I’ll expose you. Emily and her friends will see exactly what a diapered little baby you’ve become.”
Jake broke down completely, crying and begging through the pacifier, kicking his thickly padded legs uselessly against the mattress. “Nooo… pwease… I’m begging you… don’t tell anyone… don’t make me do thith all summer… it’th too humiliating… I can’t live like thith!”
Aunt Margaret paused at the nursery door, turning back with a sweet yet wicked smile. “Before I leave, I’ll tell you what’s next: I’m going straight to the sewing room with Emily. We’re going to make you the most humiliating baby clothes imaginable: frilly romper suits, short little baby dresses with matching diaper covers, bonnets, booties… everything a proper baby needs. You’ll be wearing them every single day.”
She blew him a mocking kiss as his desperate, tearful pleas and sobs filled the nursery. “Sweet dreams, baby Jake. This is going to be the longest, most infantile summer of your life. An absolute nightmare… and it’s only just beginning.”
The door clicked shut, leaving Jake alone in the crib, thickly diapered, bibbed, and pacified, his future filled with endless forced naps, baby food, public diaper changes, and relentless humiliation. The heavy, crinkling bulk between his legs was a constant, mortifying reminder that he was no longer a teenager. He was Aunt Margaret’s baby now...for the entire summer.
Ageplay / abdl / mdlb
She makes a good point. OK I guess I'm more of an Alice than a Viking warrior.
Rory is not happy about how Helen dressed him today, and he hates it when she carries him around like a baby. But she gets to call the shots as Rory's daytime caregiver. Rory has young-onset Parkinson's, and needs help with almost everything. So, it's fortunate that he is so small (5'3"). The women are laughing because Rory is being so grumpy. Rory tries to deny it, but they think he secretly enjoys dressing up. Hannah, Rory's wife, needs to get to work.
Part 2 coming.