another diaper blog

this is 18+ . 27M. I just post stuff I see. DMs open for anything

[abdlartlover111]

[abdlartlover111]

[abdlartlover111]

[animediapets-deactivated2018041]

[a-place-like-this]

I'm afraid of the possible result but....

If this gets 200 likes by the end of tomorrow I'll switch to only diapers (no pull-ups) for the rest of the week. And use them for all intended purposes

[paddedlittleparadise]

Let's do this, folks! Let's get this little one locked back in diapers!

[idkwhatyouwantfromme123]

Peed my pants, after I dropped off my date today...

Don't want to admit I need diapers to go out 😣

[diapered-dork]

you should start edging in your diapers.

you should start edging in your diapers.

you should start edging in your diapers.

you should start edging in your diapers.

you should start edging in your diapers.

you should start edging in your diapers.

you should start edging in your diapers.

you should start edging in your diapers.

you should start edging in your diapers.

you should start edging in your diapers.

you should start edging in your diapers.

[mommypof]

[ameliemommy]

Your Useless Little Thing

You’re back in diapers for good now. There’s no going back, no pretending you’re anything more than what you are: a baby, a little, a boy whose only purpose is to fill his thick, crinkly diapers and let Mommy take care of the rest. And that includes it... that useless little thing between your legs.

It doesn’t matter how big or small it was before. It doesn’t matter how you used to think about it, stroke it, or fantasize about what it could do. None of that matters anymore. Because now? Now it’s just there, a vestigial reminder of a life you no longer lead. A life where you thought you had control, where you thought you had a say. But Mommy knows better. And so do you, deep down.

The only time anyone will see it, touch it, or even acknowledge its existence is during changes. Those brief, clinical moments when Mommy peels back the tapes, wipes away the mess, and cleans the filth from your useless little penis before taping you back up. She doesn’t linger. She doesn’t admire. She doesn’t even react. It’s just another part of the routine, like powdering your bottom or taping the fresh diaper into place. And why would she? It’s not for her. It’s not for anyone.

You used to think about her, the way she’d look at you, the way she’d touch you, the way she’d want you. But those thoughts are fading now, replaced by the crinkle of plastic and the warmth of padding. Because Mommy doesn’t want anything from your penis. And neither should you. The sooner you accept that, the happier you’ll be.

And then there’s him. The one Mommy does want. The one she does touch, the one she does admire. You’ve seen the way she looks at him, the way her fingers trail down his chest, the way she lets out that little sigh when he’s near. He’s everything you’re not, strong, capable, useful. And you? You’re just the baby in the corner, watching, waiting, knowing your place.

Sometimes, when Mommy’s with him, you’ll catch a glimpse of his hands on her, his lips on hers, and you’ll feel a twinge of something,jealousy? Longing? But it’s not for her. Not really. It’s for his confidence, his purpose, the way he fills a room just by walking into it. And then you’ll remember: you don’t need that. You don’t want that. Because Mommy gives you something better. She gives you safety, warmth, the comfort of knowing you’ll never have to be anything more than her little baby.

Your penis twitches sometimes, betraying you, as if it hasn’t gotten the memo. But Mommy just laughs, patting your diaper with a smirk. “Oh, baby,” she’ll coo, “did you think that was going to do something?” She’ll press her palm against the thick padding, and you’ll feel the uselessness of it all, the way the diaper swallows every sensation, every twitch, every pathetic attempt at relevance. “It’s not for you, sweetheart. It’s not for anyone.”

And she’s right. Because the only thing your penis is good for now is making messes. And Mommy loves cleaning up your messes. She’ll change you with a smile, humming softly as she wipes you down, as if she’s doing the most natural thing in the world. And maybe she is. Maybe this is the most natural thing in the world, for you to be small, soft, and useless, and for her to be the one in control.

So accept it. Let go of the fantasies, the ego, the idea that you were ever meant for more. Your penis is just another part of you that Mommy takes care of. And if that makes you feel small? Good. If that makes you feel insignificant? Even better. Because that’s exactly what you are. And that’s exactly where you belong.

Would you like any adjustments to the tone or themes? Maybe a stronger emphasis on the cuckolding dynamic, or a softer touch?

[ameliemommy]

Welcome to Your New Life

You will wear diapers full-time.

No "ifs," no "ands," no "buts." This isn’t a negotiation. This isn’t a phase. This is your reality now, and the sooner you accept it, the easier it will be for both of us. You don’t get to argue, to bargain, or to pretend this is temporary. It isn’t. You’re here because you need to be here. Because you’ve proven, time and time again, that you can’t be trusted to manage even the simplest parts of your own life.

So let’s start with the basics.

You no longer wear “grown-up” underwear. Those days are over. No more briefs, no more boxers, no more pretending you’re something you’re not. From now on, your bottom is wrapped in thick, crinkly diapers, diapers that will hold everything you can’t. And you will fill them. You’ll wet them when you’re nervous, when you’re excited, when you’re just sitting there, squirming in your seat because you’ve forgotten how to do anything else. You’ll mess them when you’re overwhelmed, when you’re tired, when you’ve had too much to eat and your body decides for you. And you won’t ask. You won’t dare to ask. Because good boys don’t ask. Good boys let their caregivers handle it.

And you? You’re not a good boy yet. But you will be.

You are not trusted to manage your bathroom needs. That’s why you’re in diapers. That’s why, when you shift in your seat, when you clench your thighs together, when you whimper because you feel it coming and you know you can’t stop it, no one will rush to help you. You’ll sit there, your face burning, your diaper swelling, and you’ll learn. You’ll learn that resistance is useless. That your body doesn’t belong to you anymore. It belongs to us. To the people who know what’s best for you.

You are not trusted to regulate your emotions, either. When you pout, when you cross your arms and try to look defiant, when you stomp your foot like a child throwing a tantrum, we’ll just laugh. Because that’s what you are. A child. A little boy who doesn’t know how to behave, who needs firm hands to guide him, to remind him of his place. And when you cry? Oh, you’ll cry. You’ll cry when you’re frustrated, when you’re embarrassed, when you realize just how small you’ve become. But no one will comfort you. Not the way you want. Instead, you’ll get a pacifier pressed between your lips, a bottle shoved into your hands, a firm voice telling you to settle down. And you will. Because you have no other choice.

You function best when someone else is fully in control. That’s the truth you’ve been running from. You like it when decisions are made for you. When you don’t have to think, to worry, to try. When you can just… let go. And that’s exactly what you’re going to do here. You’ll let go of your pride, your dignity, your silly little delusions of independence. You’ll let us dress you, feed you, clean you up when you’ve made a mess of yourself. You’ll let us decide when you eat, when you nap, when you’re allowed to speak. And you’ll be better for it. Happier. Because deep down, you’ve always known this is what you needed. Someone to take the reins. Someone to remind you, every single day, that you’re not in charge anymore.

You will be changed, fed, dressed, and quieted as needed. Not as requested. Not when you beg. Not when you think you’ve earned it. When we decide it’s time. When we say you’ve been good enough, or when we simply feel like it. You’ll lie on the changing table, your legs kicking uselessly as we wipe you clean, as we powder your skin, as we slide a fresh diaper beneath you and tape it snugly around your waist. And you’ll stay still. You’ll take it. Because that’s what good boys do.

And humiliation? Oh, sweet, naive thing. Humiliation isn’t a punishment here. It’s a reminder. A reminder of who you are. Of why you’re wrapped in plastic and tape, why you’re drinking from a sippy cup, why you’re sitting in a high chair while the world moves on without you. It’s a reminder that you don’t get to be ashamed. You don’t get to be anything but what we say you are. And what we say you are is this: a baby. A little boy who needs to be taken care of. Who wants to be taken care of, even if he won’t admit it yet.

So here’s your first lesson: Stop fighting it.

The diaper between your legs isn’t going anywhere. The bottle in your hands isn’t a suggestion. The way the other boys look at you, the way the caregivers smile when you squirm, the way your own body betrays you again and again, none of it is an accident. It’s design. And you? You’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.

Now. Are you ready to be a good boy?

[captaininverted]

Anybody dig on America’s past time?

[idkwhatyouwantfromme123]

🫪

[blushy-stuff-idk]

Once Upon a Slime Part 3: Princess

You stand regally in an Oscar-worthy performance of your usual self. Inside though, you're on the verge of total collapse. Did this maid notice that you'd pissed yourself? Was that what she smelled? Does she know that a mass of slime is stroking up and down your slit right now? all while sucking and softly squeezing your clit?

The mental strain is immense. You're forcing every muscle in your body and face to not react, but the facade is thin, and getting thinner every second. Fuck, why is this stupid maid being so slow?! Maybe this is her doing. She could have put this thing on you while you slept, and is now watching the show, while feigning ignorance.

Wait, she had said something. Something about the last maid you fired? Talking to her?

You pretend to have heard what she said and you scoff. "Impossible. I told her to take the day to get her affairs in order and then told the housekeeper to dismiss her."

The maid's hand pauses, just for a fraction of a second. She didn't like that at all. In that millisecond you hope she'll say something. Anything at all that might indicate she disapproves...then you'll get rid of her as well.

Some gelatinous slimy tendril parts your labia and presses against your vagina. You fight the impulses to scream, moan, collapse, or tear at the diaper.

The maid says something, but you don't hear it. the mass of stiff jelly is moving back and forth slowly, but the pace is slowly increasing. Your mouth opens and you silence a gasp as a second tendril snakes it's way along your cheeks, searching for another opening.

Your facade is slipping. Your legs are shaking. You won't be standing much longer.

This stupid fucking maid! Why is she still here!

"Ma'am, Would you perhaps-"

"Get out!" You try to sound like like the princess you are, an angry one that has suffered a transgression and is now full of God-ordained righteous fury. You fail. It sounds almost feral.

"Yes Ma'am, before I go, should I-"

"Get out! Get out! GET OUT!" You're screaming. You have never screamed before. A stern word had always been enough. The maid gasps in fear and flees before you finish the last 'get out'.

The door hasn't even closed fully when you collapse to the floor. you flail for something to grab, and knock a vase to the ground with a crash. You're writhing and pressing against your pink diaper. There's nothing you can do; you're being fucked thoroughly and deeply, penetrated and stuffed, your clit and labia rubbed and squeezed by oozing, seeping, gelatinous slime.

You're moaning and gasping like a common whore, intermittently praying to god and swearing long strings of curses between gasps.

In a brief moment of clarity you remember the windows! They're open! Any servant working the grounds might hear you! Why in fuck's name did you tell the maid to open them?

Using all your will power you crawl to the first window and pull yourself up the leather sofa. you slam the window and latch it with shaky hands.

Closing the windows becomes your own personal Everest for the next hour. Every few thrusts the implements fucking you change. The texture shifts between smooth, bumpy, ribbed, bulbous, twisted, conical, and cylindrical.

You're reduced to crawling slowly, occasionally falling forward into a face-down, pink squishy ass-up position when both your intruders happen to thrust hard simultaneously. There's no rhythm or pace that you can become accustomed to, Every thrust happens at random with absolutely no warning.

After crawling about the room, and somehow managing to knock over most pieces of furniture, you slam the final window and collapse onto your diaper with a sloppy wet squish that pushes your intruders into your ass and pussy simultaneously.

Now that the windows are closed you can focus on removing this disgusting fucking diaper! Wait- above the vanity is a trophy of arms! The crossed swords are surely dull and decorative, but the tips look sharp. How sharp do they need to be to cut through goop?

You crawl to the vanity, hurried by the sensation that the slimy protuberances fucking you seem to growing...widening.

You use it to steady yourself as you stand, then you carefully climb onto it. Your legs are wobbling, and the spindly legs of the vanity are wobbling too.

You pull at one of the swords, but the whole trophy of arms is rather solid. You heave with all your might and weight. and-

CRASH

The coat of arms comes free along with a large section of plaster. One of the vanity legs breaks free with a splintering 'crack' and you tumble to the ground. The fall hurts, and you know you've probably bruised your elbow, but you don't care.

You step on one of the swords and pull at the handle. The thin decorative blade snaps and you fall backward onto your diaper with yet another wet squish that sends a torrent of slime shooting up between your labia and cheeks.

Without hesitation you turn the jagged blade toward your diaper and plunge it down into the soft surface.

As the blade contacts your diaper though, the diaper bites down hard on your clit and a tendril shoots up, hitting your cervix hard, simultaneously the tendril in your ass swells and grows, stretching you painfully. Pure pain rips through your body and you fling the broken sword away from you. You curl and convulse coughing and cramping from the onslaught. When you recover there isn't even a mark on the diaper where you stabbed it.

The fucking continues, mercilessly and thoroughly. You cum right there on the floor, You arch your back and scream as you convulse in the throes of orgasm, but the fucking doesn't stop or even hesitate. The orgasmic pleasure instantly becomes severe over-stimulation, Everything is aching, tingly, and sore.

Thinking is getting harder now for some reason. There's some strange smell that you don't recognize.

You're panting like a bitch in heat, moaning and squealing like a slut, rocking your hips and thrusting against your hands. You have to do something! How much more of this can you take!

You crawl to the bed and pull at the bedding, bringing it to the ground. You dig through the sheets and comforter for a minute until you manage to find your phone.

You're shaking so hard you can barely hold it, but you manage to unlock it. Your finger hesitates over the 'call' button.

You are Her Royal Highness, Heir to the throne among various other titles. You shouldn't be seen like this! You CAN'T be seen like this! You'd be better off dead! This....thing....it surely can't do this forever? and being fucked won't kill you...you can wait this out, right?

It's a tough decision but in the end you:

call and request to be undisturbed (24 hours of being fucked)

call and request immediate assistance.

Voting ended onJul 17

[blushy-stuff-idk]

Slime Diaper Part 14

Vote for what happens next!

Previous Part

You're practically ignored until Mama is out the door. Then, when you have Mommy's full attention you push the bottle away from you. "Mommy, I can't drink it until I go potty! If you let me make poopies-" You freeze, make poopies? when had you ever said that before? You try to regain your momentum. "I-I mean...do...you know...I'll happily drink my baba."

She smirks. "Okay, you want to start bargaining...I can accept that. Unfortunately I only deal in a single currency." She walks to the counter and picks up the paddle. Just seeing it makes your bottom sting. She places it on the table in front of you.

"Now let's deal. How many spanks is your bottle worth to you? Would you drink it for 5? What about 50? I might get tired, but I'm willing to go as high as possible."

She looks down at you, and in her eyes you see a similar smolder that you've already come to fear.

Slowly, you reach out, pick up your baba, and begin to suck the bitter milk down.

She smirks. "Aw, giving me an empty bottle? For free? You must have actually really wanted your milkies this morning!"

She strokes your cheek. Her tone changes to one of soft matronly love. "See it's exactly this kind of thing that is making it harder to help you! All this pride. All this self respect and desire to fight us at every step." Mommy sighs. "By trying to act like an adult...again...you've actually made me agree with Mama."

"Agree about what?" You didn't like where this was going.

"Your ego is only getting in the way, so it needs regular maintenance to keep it from interfering with your treatment. The best way to do that, is by expanding rules and setting clear expectations. You know that we're trying to help, but we need you to actually help us help you, understand?"

You slowly nod. "What are you trying to say?"

She sighs. "Until now our rules and punishments have just happened to align with very infantilizing things based on fucking crazy circumstances, we would just be expanding those rules and punishments. To keep you obedient. You understand?"

"Expanding how?" You ask. You have a sinking feeling in your stomach that this is not going to be anything pleasant for you.

"Early this morning Mama went out and got a special tool for you. I'm surprised you haven't noticed it yet."

You scan the room. There's nothing in the dining area, the kitchen, or the Living-" You're in total shock. There, in the middle of the living room is a child's training potty! It's so little that you would be practically squatting instead of sitting on it.

"That's where you'll be 'making poopies' as you put it." She says. Your mouth will also be soaped for adult language, you will have maintenance spankings on top of regular spankings, and you will do everything we say the instant we say it with a 'Yes Mommy' or a 'Yes Mama.' You are going to live as our baby because it's what is best for you. And we will now start to actively make you act at an age level that best fits you. Understand, sweetie?"

Your mind is racing. This is a living nightmare. "This is crazy!" You exclaim. "I'm not using a baby potty!"

"For this single instance, because these are new rules, I will give you a second chance to respond correctly. After this chance, any other outburst will end with you sucking a soapy dildo gag and choking down a feeding bag full of soapy water." She says it factually and without anger.

You open your mouth to say any one of a million things. You shut your mouth. You open it again to say any one of a hundred things, then close it again. When you open it a third time it's to say the only thing you can say.

"Yes Mommy."

"Again. With your baby-lisp." She's smiling, the smolder in her eyes tells you that she's testing you.

"Yeth Mommy."

"Much better. I'll expect you to keep that lisp until it's natural to you. Wouldn't that be adorable?"

"Yeth Mommy." You're red with humiliation and your eyes are on the floor. You started this conversation with an effort to bargain, and now you've lost everything!

"Very good! In fact, now that breakfast is done, I've decided you can make your poopies a little early! What do you say to that?"

The last thing you want to do is sit on a stupid plastic potty, but you choke out a "Fank You, Mommy."

She leads you by the hand to your latest and greatest humiliation. As you sit, the slime squelches and oozes through your cheeks and around your penis. The slippery cold slime that wasn't in contact with your skin is pressed against you and you shiver.

"Now, why don't you ask nicely for what you want, baby?"

You're on the very edge of tears. In some alternate universe you returned from an uneventful backpacking trip, played some video games, and went back to your nine-to-five....that could be you...instead of being a forcefully regressed baby, making poopies into a dipee like a toddler that doesn't know to remove their padding before sitting down.

You fight back the crying and stammer out "M-May I pweathe make poopieth on my potty, Mommy?"

She holds up a cell phone and you know Mama will be watching this later. "You may."

The slime invisibly shifts, you feel a sucking, slurping pull at your plug. "Oh! OOOH!" The stretching sensation is incredible and painful. You grip the sides of your potty and gasp as the widest point passes your bottom and your hole closes rapidly on the rubber taper, expelling it from your body.

The poopies feel endless, Your stomach cramps and deflates as the loudest wettest farts rip from you. Hot mush fills the crack of your bottom, then the front of your diaper. Your gasping, straining, and panting as you deflate and your diaper expands visibly.

Then, it rewards you.

"AAAH! OH! Oh Mommyyyy!" The slime is taking advantage of your gaping bottom with a nearly four-inch diameter tendril. It's pumping in and out of you like a piston while a sucking mass of slime swirls around the head of your penis.

You're thrusting and grinding against your mittened hands, rocking back and forth on your potty, and gasping madly for air. Tears are running down your face, but you don't know if they're tears of joy or shame.

You're going to cum! You're only a millisecond away!

The diaper returns to an inert gelatinous slime. You want to scream, swear, rant at how unfair this is, and hit something in your frustration and rage, but all you do is pant limply. You don't have any energy left.

Then you feel the plug moving, the tip of it gliding up between your cheeks as it returns to it's home inside you.

You only barely have enough consciousness left to remember that you need to lisp as you cry out, "No! Pweathe Mommy! No pwug! Not yet! Wet me have Jutht one minute! Pweeeath-AH!"

The plug has reached your sore, stretched, and badly abused hole, and has begun pushing into you now. Somehow, even though you only just had it in, it still hurts to take. you're squealing and babbling incoherently as the surprisingly strong ooze slowly and effortlessly pushes it into you.

You're gripping your potty and kicking your legs as it nears the widest part, and then with an audible 'slurp' your body pulls the rest of the mass into yourself.

The diaper goes inert.

Mommy guides you to the couch and you collapse on her lap. She strokes your head and talks, but you don't hear any of the sweet supportive things she's saying. You've had more sensations in the last ten minutes than you would want in a week. you fall asleep suckling at her finger, just like a baby. Her baby.

You must have slept for hours. You awake to a sound that fills you with ice-cold fear. It's your phone, still on the counter where it had been placed days ago. It's ringing, and based on the Teams ringtone it's definitely work related.

Mommy is in the shower. This is all up to you.

Waddling with your full diaper and stuffed bottom, you reach your phone. As suspected, it's your boss. He's trying to video-call you! You glance momentarily down at yourself, as if the penis-binky and sagging diaper might be concealable, then you press the button to deny the call.

The shower water turns off. "Baby? Are you awake?" Mommy calls sweetly.

You:

Silence your phone and don't tell Mommy. Work can just wait.

Ask Mommy to message an excuse to your boss

Tell Mommy you have a work call, ask her to help you look adult again for it

Voting ended onJul 15

[blushy-stuff-idk]

Slime Diaper Part 12

Vote for what happens next!

Previous part

Why should they get all the fun? It's not fair! If they get to do what they want then you should too! You fumble with your Binky's condom until it pops off, spilling onto your chest, then you pop it into your mouth.

In an instant it locks itself in place. It throbs and pulses, beginning the transmutation of your saliva into the deliciously rich elixir you've come to crave. It's comforting enough to offset the discomfort of your plug.

What Mommy will say when she sees you is a problem for future-you. Anyway it's her fault for not including you!

You curl up on the rubber mattress, pull your blanket around you and quickly fall asleep. In your dream you're nursing on Mama endlessly while she pets you lovingly.

"Well well well."

You open your eyes and see Mama standing over the crib. She's holding two empty wine glasses and wearing nothing but a T-shirt. Her hair is a mess and her makeup is smudged.

She looks down at you, the disappointment is visible on her face. From your position near the floor you can see her pretty cock under her shirt.

Mommy joins her.

"Aw, I thought she had more self control than this!"

"Me too...I was hoping she'd be a good girl and resist the urge."

Mommy pulled the pacifier from your mouth and shakes her head.

Once again they're talking ABOUT you, like you're nothing but a baby to them! Your temper flares. "Thith ith thtupid, Mommy! You get to have fun and eat peetha! And dwink wine! I'm no' a baby! I wanna be in thewe with you and Mama too! I'm an Adult!"

There's silence for a few seconds. Your complaint is severely undercut by your babyish pronunciation and the usage of 'Mommy' and 'Mama'.

"All done? Feel better?" Mama asks. "Last I checked you came here for help. We're doing our best to take care of you, and now you're making demands? Interrupting our date?"

Mommy holds up your paci. "This is how your diaper is rewarding you for being a baby. All you had to do was NOT use it so your diaper would edge as a reward instead."

"I remember!" You say hotly. She's scolding you like you're a fussy infant! You hate it.

"Do you remember? The plan was for you to always be wetting so your diaper would always be edging you. To make it tired and weak. When is the last time you've tinkled in your pamper?"

"Um...A whio ago. I-I'm sowwy.

Mommy places her palm against the front of your diaper. "Wet then. Wet now." Her voice is cold and threatening.

Behind her, Mama removes something with straps from her paper bag, she removes something else that clicks against the granite countertop.

You actually feel afraid. Your bladder releases. And mommy smiles at the hissing noise that fills the room. "Open your little mouth."

You open your mouth and something is jammed unceremoniously into your mouth. it's long, rigid, and smells of rubber.

"AAIGHMMM!" You cry in surprise. You try to spit out the invader but the straps of the dildo gag are being secured firmly behind your head by Mama.

There's a long rubber tube running from the gag to a large red enema bag. Mama opens the bag and poors your bottle into it. A trickle of bitter milky liquid begins to enter the back of your throat. She fills the bag up the rest of the way with warm tap water, then hangs it from a nearby hook on the wall. The flowrate increases and now you're constantly swallowing big gulps of the bitter liquid.

Mama then walks to the counter and picks up a large wooden paddle. It's thick and looks very heavy.

Mommy stands you up, and gently turns you, bending you over the playpen's railing.

"You know you were naughty don't you?" She strokes your cheek and the heavy paddle presses gently against your bottom.

"Mmm!" You nod your head enthusiastically.

"And you're very sorry?"

"MMMMMMPH" You try to protest and communicate how sorry you are.

"Then this will be a very easy lesson for you to learn." She uses a hand to make you look her in the eye. She raises a finger. "First. In this house you will be a good girl and do what we say."

The paddle connects with your diaper so hard your feet momentarily leave the ground. You shriek a muffled scream into your gag. Formula sprays from around the gag and runs down your face. The large paddle is connecting with both your cheeks and your plug with every blow.

"Second. You WILL wet your diaper every second you are able to. If you ever notice you're not wetting, and you don't immediately try to wet...then there'll be consequences."

Another spank connects with the sound of a thunderclap. You choke and cough on the constant flow of formula. You're struggling to breathe, scream, and swallow all at the same time.

"Third. Until you conduct yourself like an adult you ARE a baby. We've observed you and it's painfully obvious that you are a baby. No emotional regulation. No willpower. Not an ounce of maturity. No manner of self control at all...like a baby. We're just supplying the discipline and structure you won't admit you need."

Another spank, even harder than the last one has you seeing stars. You sag limply, supported by the railing. Your bottom is on fire and the plug hurts like it did when it was first inserted. You're not sure what hurts more though, the spanking or the complete obliteration of your pride.

The bag has emptied and the flow has stopped. Your stomach feels swollen and full despite all the formula that you've coughed all over yourself.

Mama and mommy lower you into your little playpen bed. Mama disconnects the tube from your gag while Mommy wipes you clean with a towel.

"Sorry we had to do that, sweetie. But if you don't obey us, you'll never get out of your diaper! You do want to someday grow up and be a big girl, don't you?"

You nod and she wipes your tear-stained cheeks.

"Then you have to be a good little girl and do what you're told. If Lily or I say 'no paci' we mean it. If we say it's nap time, then it's nap time. Understand?"

Mama dabs more tears from your eyes. Whether or not you want it, no matter what you do, they see you as a baby and you're powerless to do anything about it. "Now what does a good girl do?"

You force yourself to relax and wet yourself a little bit more.

"Good girl."

They both kiss you goodnight, kiss your forehead and retire to the apartment's only bedroom.

You distantly hear them talking and giggling from Mommy's room as you force yourself to wet a tiny bit again.

You tinkle a little bit dozens of times before you finally manage to sleep.

When you wake up it's still dark outside. The apartment is completely silent, and your bottom aches. You feel so uncomfortably bloated. All of yesterday's meals, still affected by your heavy diet of laxatives , are piling up behind your plug. The pressure building up in you is incredible. You can feel your body straining and pushing against the plug.

It feels like you are about to potty, desperately needing to potty, and yet far too constipated to potty all at once.

As if that weren't enough your jaw and throat ache. The hard rubber of the gag isn't soft or ergonomic like the realistic feel of your pacifier.

You CAN'T go back to sleep like this!

You decide to

Suffer through it all night.

Wake Mommy. Tell her your tummy hurts. Act baby-like for sympathy.

Try to remove your gag and see if the couch is more comfortable.

Voting ended onJul 13

[blushy-stuff-idk]

Slime Diaper Part 7

Vote for what happens next

Previous Part

Mary towers over you. She holds a spoon piled high with the nastiest concoction of fiber and laxatives you can imagine.

You only just recovered from the last massive batch of laxative slop, and now it was starting all over again!

For a moment you consider fighting back; hitting the spoon from her hand and calling her crazy. But your bottom still stings and burns from the last spanking she gave you...and there's something in her eyes; a dangerous keenness that's telling you not to test her.

She's acting odd for some reason but you can't quite figure out why or how. She did explain it to you before, right? It made sense then didn't it?

You're not sure why you're being so suspicious. All this thinking is giving you a headache, just one more thing you don't need.

There's some tiny part of you that's screaming warnings and trying to tell you something, but you can't focus on it. Mary's eyes are so big, and so distracting. She's so pretty and smart. She knows so much more than you and is taking such good care of you with all this stuff she's doing.

You open your mouth and accept the dark brown mush. The flavor is absolutely unholy and the spices make it feel like pure molten lava in your mouth and throat. You know that you should be coughing, gagging, and wheezing...but M-Mary is so big and strong and pretty and smart. You'd eat anything she were to give you.

Why was remembering her name so hard? The 'M' is right, but your entire brain struggles to say the rest. She deserves so much better than 'Mary'.

"That's my little sweetie!" She beams, filling your mouth again as soon as it's empty.

Every burning mouthful that you swallow is worth it because She's smiling. She's helping you. You're helping her help you and that's all that matters.

Your stomach swollen and pained. your throat is full of the worst heartburn ever, but none of that matters. You're utterly lost in her smile.

"That was the last spoonful! Baby loved her ghost pepper extract, didn't she?"

You swallow. "Yeth, M-Mu-Mo-" You're trying to say her name but another word is in the way... you've heard it before...it was said in the cartoons you watched...

"You can say it. I know you can." There's something wrong with her beautiful smile, and a hunger in her eyes, but you can't think about it. Your diaper is slowly stroking and fingering you.All you can think about is her and the edging your diaper is administering.

It feels like the whole world wants you to say it and then you remember the word! It's perfect for her!

" M-Mommy."

"Good girl!"

You cum without warning. Days of nearly constant edging and denial spew into your diaper as it finally allows you to cum.

"Aaaah! Mommmmy!" You clutch pathetically at the front of your diaper and your vision goes blurry. You're cumming so hard that it hurts. As you buck and thrust into the squishy slimy, jell-O of your dipee. Your body, mind, and soul all feel like they're orgasming at the same time. You only barely notice the torrent of diarrhea stretching and swelling the diaper even further.

spurt after spurt of hot sticky cum coats your crotch. It all lasts for a solid minute before dying away in full-body spasms.

When it's over you're completely spent. You collapse limply, your massive gelatinous diaper sloshes and jiggles around you.

Mommy stands, still smiling, bends over the railing, and pops your pacifier into your mouth. She strokes your cheek and lifts your chin. You swallow the delicious cum and look up at your Mommy.

"Mommy's got you." She says. You're her baby girl. Who you were doesn't matter. Whatever gender you were doesn't matter. Your name is whatever she calls you. Your gender is whatever she wants it to be. Mommy is everything you will never be. She's so perfect and powerful and beautiful that you can hardly breath in her presence.

A car horn somewhere outside honks angrily.

Mommy looks toward the window and the spell is broken for her. The empty bowl and spoon fall to the floor. She stares blankly at the window for a minute.

"That smell...My head-"

Mommy leaps to the window and wrenches it open. She presses her face to the screen and takes a big breath of clean air, then holds her breath anf rushes to every window, flinging them wide. The last thing she does is open the sliding patio door before gasping and gulping the clean air.

Now that fresh air is entering the apartment you find that you can smell the overpowering baby powder and lavender scent. It's so concentrated that it tickles your nose.

Mommy is sitting on a chair on the balcony, her head in her hands as she takes deep breaths.

You climb over the railing, no small feat with your droopy diaper. You sit on the floor just inside the apartment, hidden from the view of passersbys.

"Okay, so the windows stay open from now on." Mommy says.

You nod.

You both sit, enjoying the clean air and allowing your minds to clear.

"Do you remember my name? Here's a clue, it's not Mommy." She says finally.

You know that, but you're having a hard time remembering what it could be.

"It's Mary." You swallow more cum and shake your head. You know that's right...but it doesn't feel right.

"Do you remember your name?" She asks.

Baby? No. That's stupid. You eyes open wide. What's your name?

"Don't worry. I'll go out to your car and get your ID. Then we'll relearn it together."

You both sit in awkward silence for a while.

"We need a third person." She says at last. "That was way too fucking close. We need someone to tag-team this and check in with us to make sure we're alright...as a safety measure."

You nod and swallow more of your favorite liquid. Cramps force more spicy diarrhea into your diaper. You notice that you aren't being rewarded for it anymore.

"I know someone else I can call, she was a therapist for a bit, now she works at a dispensary. She's weird, but she's a good friend. And she used to do sex work, so she's used to weird shit...probably nothing like this though."

She reaches over and pulls out your binky. You miss the taste and shape immediately.

"Any recommendations?"

"Hmmm..."

"I can't think of anyone. Call your weird friend."

"We need an expert. I know a doctor. He might help."

"Don't worry! We can do this all on our own!"

Voting ended onJul 11

[blushy-stuff-idk]

Slime Diaper Part 2

Vote for what happens next!

Part 1 here

You tell yourself to remain calm. You will yourself to take deep breaths until you're thinking clearly.

You open your pack and retrieve your sketchbook. You'll go about this scientifically. At the top of the page you begin writing ways to remove or kill it.

Fire/burning

Drowning

Stabbing/cutting

Chemicals/poison/acid

Bludgeoning

Those are all the ways you can think of. Surely one of those would have to work.

You start with number 4, as it seems the safest for you. Your options are limited here in the forest, but you try emptying all your insect repellent onto the pink thing. The surface appears to be waterproof though, and the spray simply runs off it and down your legs. After that you pour salt onto it, hoping it'll react like a slug and die. To your dismay nothing happens. With nothing else to try, you cross out number 4.

Alright, onto number 3. You'd tried cutting it before and it had reacted by causing immense pain before the blade could even touch it. This time you'd try a new approach. You slip your pants over the gel diaper to prevent it from seeing what you are going to do, in case it can see at all, and then you prepare a fish hook. Maybe if you puncture it, just a little, it will drop off of you and run away.

You move your hand quickly and jam the hook through your pants into the thing. The sudden pain makes you black out

When you come to, the diaper is still on you, without even a scratch, and you feel like an entire fencepost was recently rammed up your ass while someone repeatedly kicked you in the balls.

You stand on shaky legs and cross out cutting/stabbing. That is one you DEFINITELY will NOT be trying again.

Next is fire. Maybe burning it will scare it off. After all, it works on ticks. You pick up a small stick and use your lighter until the tip catches on fire. You blow it out, leaving a single tiny red coal. You press it against the weird diaper-thing and nothing happens..at first.

"Ow!" You fling the stick into the fire pit. There, visible through the pink gel, is a small red burn on your skin, as though you'd pressed the stick against yourself and not the diaper.

If it can perfectly transfer heat to you, then that's not the right way to go either. You cross out number 1.

Next is bludgeoning. After the last few failed attempts you decide to do this cautiously. You start by flicking the diaper. No reaction. You tap it. Still nothing. Okay, here goes nothing. You open your hand and slap your own ass.

"Oooww!" Your howl echos in the woods. You inspect your cheek to see the red imprint of your own hand, as though you'd slapped your own cheek ten times harder than you'd slapped the diaper.

If it was going to transfer kinetic energy tenfold to you, then you absolutely didn't want to use that approach. You pick up your book and cross out bludgeoning.

All that remains is to try drowning the thing. Luckily, this far into the forest there is no danger of anyone seeing your now-tiny penis in what appears to be an clear inflatable pink diaper as you undress at the edge of the lake.

The water is ice cold and your teeth chatter uncontrollably as you force yourself to walk into the water, not stopping until the diaper is completely submerged. You wait for several minutes, feeling your toes sink into the icy mud.

Something is happening now! You couldn't see it doing anything, but you definitely feel the gel moving and pulsing slightly.

Slowly the diaper begins to swell, becoming colder and colder as it does so. Its heavy swollen bulk begins to force your legs apart. "Maybe it'll expand and pop!" You think hopefully.

The diaper hardens slightly as it compresses, and you scream as a jet of cold water begins pumping into your rectum. The bulky diaper makes movement difficult as you fight your way back to the shore, being filled with a painfully cold lake-water enema the entire time.

You you crawl onto the bank and collapse. Your belly is cramping painfully from the volume, but the diaper continues to forcefully fill you until it has returned to its original size. You struggle to force the water out, but despite your anus being stretched wide, the slime inside you is acting as a plug, and won't allow any of it to leave you.

It isn't until hours later as you're huddled in front of your campfire that it suddenly allows you to release the enema.

You don't care how it looks. After hours of holding it in, you can't help but crouch low to forcibly shit out the disgusting mess as quickly as you can moaning with relief.

No sooner have you started to relieve yourself than the diaper comes to life. It begins to stroke and massage every bit of your cock and prostate simultaneously. It's the most amazing sensation you've ever felt, it's so powerful that your entire mind goes blank and becomes a white haze of sexual bliss. Your moans of relief become the most shamefully slutty moans and gasps.

Anyone looking at you now would see a naked weirdo writhing on the ground, pawing at their pink inflated diaper.

Right as you approach the edge of climax, the sensations stop immediately. Your penis, still contained to it's tiny size, throbs and aches painfully, desperate for the last touch needed to trigger an orgasm.

"uuugh! Please!" You paw at the diaper and thrust against your hands, and even try humping the ground. Your denied penis feels none of it, not even the slightest change in pressure.

You sit up, now several inches higher atop the jiggly slimy gel. You inspect it closely. Whatever mess came out of you has immediately reacted with the gel, producing an opaque baby-pink cloud that has made the inside of the diaper cloudy.

Even now you watch as a drop of precum appears on the tip of your throbbing penis before dissipating into an opaque pink mist within the diaper.

With creeping horror you realize that it's digesting! It WANTS to be used like a diaper! You flush with hot embarrassment as you realize that you've not only given it just what it wants, but it has rewarded you sexually for your good behavior.

You're cold, terrified, at the mercy of a strange creature, and...humiliatingly...so horny and aroused it hurts. At least you don't feel like you're in imminent danger, so you don't think you need to call 911. Since it's getting late you'll spend the night here and head out first thing in the morning.

Where to next?

Go to the nearest emergency room

Go to Mary's place. She'll know what to do

Let a woman see you like this?! Fuck that! Go to Luke. He'll know what to do.

Voting ended onJul 8

[blushy-stuff-idk]

Slime Diaper Part 1

Vote for what happens next!

It was just a normal camping trip until you awake to something large and warm slipping into your sleeping bag.

You panic and kick your way free of the sleeping bag in a frenzy, but whatever it is moves quickly, and all you see is a pink blur as something translucent slips into the waistband of your pants.

You scream as the warm squishy mass envelops your crotch and wraps itself around your waist. You rip off your pants and gape in horror at the large pink mass that has latched itself onto you. You tentatively touch it. The outside of it feels dry and kind of rubbery, but the inside is definitely some kind of slick slimy gel. It doesn't appear to be alive, but you can feel it pulsing slightly. It doesn't appear to be hurting you, but

You try to remove it, but it has you in an iron-like grip. You grab your camp knife, but as the blade comes near the entity you feel it squeezing your balls harder and harder. You can only get the knife within an inch of the entity before the pain wins and you throw the knife away. Ball crushing stops immediately when you do.

Then new sensation begin. The first is a gentle massaging pressure on your genitals. It doesn't feel bad, just a vague feeling of tightness. You watch your crotch through the translucent body with morbid curiosity. Your balls are slowly pushed up inside of you popping into the inguinal space where they originally descended from in your infancy. Your penis appears to magically shrink as it's compressed to a tiny nub, barely more than a pink tip protruding from your body.

The next sensation has you writhing and clutching at the diaper as an invisible tendril begins to snake push it's way past your anus. You feel it pressing deeper and deeper pulsating as it expands, stretching you ever wider. As the pain reaches a climax it stops and your new diaper remains still.

You use your phone camera to inspect your aching hole.

Just as your penis is invisibly contained to a diminutive size, your anus is gaping wide. To anyone looking at you, you'd appear to be a baby-dicked person with a permanently destroyed ass, all contained in an oddly smooth, squishy, pink, and transparent diaper full of clear slime.

You pull and push at it, desperately trying to remove the thing until you're completely spent, panting on the floor of your tent.

You need help! Your mind races as you try to think of what your next step should be...

What do you do next?

Call your best friend and start driving to them.

Drive to the nearest hospital's emergency room

Call the police and stay right where you are

Keep trying other ways to remove it on your own

Voting ended onJul 7