Little Buddy

Little Diaper butt from Toronto, 25, 18+ only

[ameliemommy]

A Moment of Doubt

Photo-credit: @toreabdl The sun filters through the tent window, painting the seat in warm, golden streaks. I glance at him, my boy, sitting there in his colorful onesie, the soft crinkle of his fresh diaper barely audible. His fingers trace the fuzzy ear of his teddy, his lips moving in a silent conversation only the two of them understand. A pacifier bobs gently between his teeth, and his eyes are bright, alive in a way I’ve never seen them when he was buried in spreadsheets or lost in the weight of adult expectations.

For a second, my chest tightens. Did I take too much from him? The thought slithers in, unwelcome but persistent. His books, his job, his sharp mind... all of it traded for the simplicity of stuffed animals and the security of a thick, snug diaper. I stole his maturity, his independence, his potty training, even his ability to fall asleep without his plush bear tucked under his arm. Was it fair? Was it right?

I watch his thumb press into the teddy’s paw, his other hand patting his padded bottom absently, as if reassuring himself it’s still there. The guilt coils tighter. Maybe I should have let him choose. Maybe I should have given him a chance to find happiness on his own terms, as a "big boy."

But then he giggles. A real, unguarded sound, so pure it makes my throat ache. His whole body wiggles with delight as he points at something outside the window, his voice muffled around the pacifier. And just like that, the doubt dissolves.

I know, deep down, that he never would have found this joy on his own. Not like this. Not with the same unshakable, childlike wonder. The world was too heavy for him before, too full of expectations and exhaustion. And now? Now he’s light. Free. Happy in a way that feels almost sacred.

My fingers twitch toward him, itching to ruffle his hair, to pull him closer. This is where he belongs. This is where he’s meant to be. And if that makes me the villain in someone else’s story? So be it. Because in this moment, with the sun on his face and his heart so full it’s practically glowing, I know I made the right choice.

[princeofdapwayground]

Babies can't touch themselves.

Babies should only hump their pillows and their stuffies. (With mommy/daddy's premission ofc.)

The only hands that should be touching baby's baby parts are mommy/daddy's hands.

Babies only get to use big kid toys as a rewards.

Bratty babies should be edged by mommy/daddy until they are fully regressed, crying, and whining from how good it feels, and from how badly they want to cum.

Babies should always have patted mittens on their hands to stop them from touching without premission.. and preferably lockable mittens that mommy/daddy holds the key to.

Baby should be sat down on mommy/daddy's lap as they hold baby's hips and guide them to grind on their lap. <3

[forwhomthebaeltolls]

Make me wear a diaper in public. Tell me you know I can't hold it the whole time we're out and you don't want me humiliating you by having an accident in public

I wanna be self-conscious; wondering if people notice. I want you to make me take a large water bottle with me and make me drink it all. Force me to fill my bladder so I have no choice but to fill my cute little diaper

I'll be so embarrassed but of course you have to give me diaper checks! I want you to tease me when I'm finally not dry anymore; “awe see I told you you would have to go while we were out. Look who was right again, baby”

[pacificaphrodite]

Good baby boys can’t always control their bladders

Good baby boys have lots and lots of wet accident in their pants and in their bed

Good baby boys really try to hold their full bladder to prove to mommy that they can but still end up soaked a lot

Good baby boys make lots of big pissy potty puddles because they can’t quite control their little bladder yet

Good baby boys need to be kept in very thick diapers so they don’t wet themselves every day and every night

Good baby boys still ask mommy if they can go potty in their diapers and try to hold it until she says yes

Good baby boys try to keep their bladders full and their diapers soaked

Good baby boys know that their diaper has to be completely soaked and maybe even leaky before they can be changed

Good baby boys blush when mommy checks their diaper and gives their cute diaper butt little pats

Good baby boys have another little accident and spurt into their diapers while mommy changes them

Good baby boys love having all of mommy’s affection and attention while she changes their diapers

Good baby boys love it when mommy teases their cock while changing their soaked diaper

Good baby boys sometimes get too excited and have “accidents”in their fresh diaper before mommy even tape it up completely

Good baby boys will do anything to please mommy

Good baby boys love eating mommy’s pussy and crave it, and will beg to taste how wet mommy is

Good baby boys love receiving compliments from mommy about how adorable they are and blush so much every time

Good baby boys get be excited just to see mommy that they wet their diaper a little

Good baby boys know their place as a cute pottypants who receives so much affection and adoration from mommy

Good baby boys live to be completely adored by mommy

[overprotective-abdl-daddy]

Baby's new toy

You are lying in your crib, the soft blankets tucked tightly around you. A sudden urge stirs deep inside you, and without thinking, you push your hand down inside your diaper. You start to touch yourself, seeking that familiar relief.

Suddenly, a voice crackles from the baby monitor on the dresser. "Don't do that, little one" Daddy says firmly. "I can see you doing that from here."

You freeze, your face flushing with embarrassment. You pull your hand out of your diaper and sit up, pressing your stomach against the mattress to hide what you were doing. You look at the crib's edge, where Daddy was watching your padded bottom jiggle with every movement.

Just then, Daddy opens the nursery door. He steps over to the crib and reaches in, gently placing a pacifier into your mouth. He then takes your hands out of your diaper, holding them down at your sides.

"I know you have special needs, my special baby," Daddy says softly, but you can't do that anymore without adult supervision"

He walks over to the corner of the room and picks up a massive stuffed bear, bringing it back and setting it on your chest. It's huge, easily bigger than your head.

"This is your new toy," Daddy explains. "When you get those feelings, you use him. You don't use your hands inside your diaper because everything inside your diaper belongs to Daddy. You are a baby now. You only use toys."

He gives your diapered bottom a firm pat, testing the weight of it. He grimaces slightly, squeezing the squishy padding.

"Mmm, looks like you're gonna need changies soon" Daddy comments, smiling as he rubs the wet fabric against your skin. "You were so desperate to finish, you didn't even realize your diaper was all soaked and stinky. That's so babyish."

He pats your bottom again, a loud smack echoing through the room. "Okay, now go play with your bear. Daddy needs to prepare a fresh diaper for you."

You look at the giant bear, then at Daddy. You feel a mix of shame and resignation. There is no going back. This is your life now. You are Daddy's baby.

You pick up the bear and lie back down, pressing the soft, plush fur against your diaper. You start to hump the stuffed animal slowly, trying to ignore the fullness in your diaper. It's a reminder that you are no longer an adult with choices; you are just a baby filling his diaper for Daddy.

Daddy smile while he go to get a fresh diaper for you, his eyes fixed on you through the baby monitor. He watches you play. You can hear his voice softly encouraging you from the speaker.

"Good boy," he says through the monitor, when he goes back to your crib asked with a little teasing tone"Did you have fun playing with your friend?"

You look up at him, feeling incredibly huffy and ashamed. You know you have to answer. You nod slowly, unable to meet his eyes.

"Yes, Daddy," you whisper.

Daddy reaches out and takes the pacifier out of your mouth. In the same motion, he shoves a bottle into your mouth, those special bottles that make you fill your pampers so easily.

You gulp down the milk, You are Daddy's baby now. He gently sets you back down in the crib, stroking your belly.

"Now be a good boy and take your bottle," he says. He leans down and kisses your tummy, making you squirm. "You're doing so well. I'm so proud of you for being such a good baby."

You continue to drink, feeling the effects of the special bottle already beginning to work. You hug the giant stuffed bear tight, feeling a strange sense of belonging. You are a baby, and this is your life.

Daddy stands up and walks to the changing table. He returns with a fresh diaper and wipes, and you watch him with wide eyes. He opens the messy diaper and begins to clean you up.

"See?" Daddy says, his voice cheerful as he cleans you up. "You're doing so good. You did all your business in your diaper just like a good boy. I'm so proud of you."

He finishes cleaning you and puts the fresh diaper on, giving your bottom a firm pat.

"Now, you stay in the crib and finish your bottle," he says. "And remember, if I catch you putting your hands in your diaper again, the punishment will be very hard. You need to be extra good, okay?"

You nod meekly, finishing the bottle and showing it to him when it's empty.

"All empty, Daddy," you say softly. "Am I a good boy?"

Daddy smiles, looking at how babyish you look with the empty bottle in your hand. He reaches out and pats your diapered bottom, rubbing your diaper, you feel automatically an urge to play with your bear when daddy rubs your diaper specially when you know you're being a good Daddy's boy.

"You are the best baby, yes," he says. "Such a good boy."

He walks over to the crib and tucks you in, giving you a final kiss on the forehead.

"Sleep well, my baby," he says. "I'll be watching you on the monitor."

You close your eyes, feeling the warmth of the diaper and the comfort of the bear. You know that every time you feel that urge, you will only have one option: to use the bear and fill your diaper for Daddy. You are his baby now, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

[cookie-goodboy]

🤔 A Hot Stepdad

🥴 A Hot Stepdad who puts you back in diapers

🥵 A Hot Stepdad who rails you on the changing table during your diaper change

💀 ...A Hot Stepdad who whispers "I'm going to see your mom later and give you a new baby brother" into your ear while he fucks you.

[cookie-goodboy]

Some Mommies and Daddies still let their regressed little ones cum...

They just make sure it's as humiliating as possible.

You can't let them think this is an adult privelege, or that it makes them in any way mature.

All the parenting blogs have suggestions:

🚫 ban them from using adult words to describe it (call it special snuggles, or silly spurts) .

🎶 Make them sing nursery rhymes, or childish songs while they are doing it.

🪫set restrictions on using hands or vibrating toys. Make them learn how to hump.

🫣 have them do it with an audience. Either Mommy/Daddy's friends or their former peers.

🧸 Pick out a special plush for them to make 'special feelings' with.

⭐ Track their 'GooGoos' on their diaper training chart, compare notes with other parents.

👀 make them do it in the living room or in a public place. Ensure that they don't have any privacy.

⏲️ Set time limits, take away sticky time if they go too long.

😵 Make sure their diaper is heavily used before granting them permission. To associate pleasure with full diapers

Any permission you give as a parent to a regressed 'child' should be designed to reinforce their infantalization.

Any 'sexual experience ' they are allowed to have should be as far away from what real adults do as possible.

After all , all the parenting blogs say so....

[overprotective-abdl-daddy]

Meet Daddy's little boy

You stand in the doorway, trying to hide behind the frame. The thick, soggy diaper between your legs feels enormous and loud, and you just wish you could disappear. But Daddy is in the other room, chatting with his friends, and you know he's about to call you out.

"Come on out, little one. Don't be shy," Daddy's voice calls, warm and full of affection. Your face burns. You don't want to move. But then he adds, "Everyone here already knows you're daddy's baby. It's almost changies time for my little potty pants, we know you can't stay dry and clean kiddo, come and say hi to everyone"

The reminder makes you whimper softly. You take a small step out from behind the door, your eyes glued to the floor cuddling your stuffy to hide. You can feel their friendly gazes on you, and it's overwhelming.

Daddy walks over and kneels down. "I know just how to calm my little boy," he says softly. Without another word, he lifts you easily into his arms, your padded bottom resting on his forearm. You bury your face in his chest, feeling the blush spread down your neck.

He sits down on the sofa, right in front of everyone, and unbuttons his shirt. He guides your mouth to his chest, and you latch on instinctively. The warmth fills you, and the familiar, rhythmic sucking begins to melt away your anxiety.

Daddy's hand rests on your padded bottom, giving it gentle, rhythmic pats. Each pat is a soft, crinkly reminder of your diaper, but instead of shame, it feels comforting now.

"Look at him," you hear one of Daddy's friends say softly. "He's so sweet."

You can't help but feel a small wave of pride. You begin to suckle more confidently, your body relaxing completely against Daddy. You're his good little baby, and everyone knows it.

"That's right," Daddy murmurs, kissing the top of your head. "Papi's good little baby. Just relax and let Daddy take care of everything."

"Can you hand me the diaper bag and the talcum powder?" Daddy said to a friend, "I'll change him right here in front of you. You don't mind, do you?"The other adults just said "awwww" and helped Daddy to change your soggy bottom. There was no reason to be ashamed anymore; everyone knew your new reality.

[cookie-goodboy]

You squirmed in your highchair as the candle burned on the cupcake.

...but it wasn't your birthday

"We're celebrating one year since cucky last made their little stickies, isn't that fun?"

Daddy said to his friends, he spoke about you as though you weren't there.

"Ok now, Blow it out sweetie."

You sheepishly blew out the candle, you feared the consequences of not obeying his instructions, but also hoped he'd reward you for complying.

"Well, that's that, now Let's see if they can do two!"

You groaned, you wanted to burst into tears.

You had no idea how you could make it another year denied in diapers

[serene-doge-enrico-dandolo]

I feel like too often the diaper cuck is shown as hating the arrangement. Where's the love for a cuck who adores his life.

Sex is yucky anyways so it's more fun to watch my wife than to do it myself. Plus her boyfriend Derrick is really nice, he calls me cute and we play games together sometimes. the diapers and chastity are great too, Mommy says i'm really cute when i'm desperate. I'm still able to show my appreciation by keeping the house in tip top shape while Mommy's at work, the maid dress sorta keeps me focused.

Sometimes Derrick is busy and mommy asks me to fuck her. But it's okay, she puts a strap on me. I can stay nice and safe in my diaper and she gets to have fun.

I used to be so silly, always playing make believe. pretending i was potty trained, or that i liked sex.

[hornystorage]

You Don't Want a Boyfriend

[Written by @/tksubdiaperboy, but got deleted. Reposted with his permission. You can find him on twitter as diapetk]

Part 1

“Mmmph,” I painfully moaned into my pacifier. Why did I allow this? Why did I want this so bad? It was so embarrassing and mortifying. Yet here I was once again trying to not expel my monthly enema as long as I could while Adam stared absentmindedly at his phone on the couch, flicking through some app.

He chuckled, not looking away from his phone, “You definitely are losing control. You used to last so much longer. It’s only been three minutes.”

Only three minutes? It has felt like an eternity standing here in front of him as my favorite show, Paw Patrol, played in the background. I was dressed how I was almost always dressed at home. A thick puffy babyish adult diaper, plastic pants with teddy bears and blocks on it, my sports onesie, and my shortalls. My diaper was already a little soggy since my last change. When did that happen? I don’t think I had lost that much bladder control since this all started but I’ve gotten so used to wetting in my diapers that wetting in them had kind of become second nature. Sometimes I could tell when I had to go, other times I quickly gave in to little pangs, other times my diaper felt a lot more wet all of a sudden than I thought it would.

“But that is not surprising,” said Adam glancing up from his phone, “You’re just becoming who you really are.”

Adam and I had been dating for two years when we decided to move in together. It had been my first real relationship at the ripe old age of 28. I was a bit of a late bloomer but I had always struggled with my diaper fetish and adult baby desires. I didn’t know exactly how to pursue something with all of that baggage. I had been out for years and date after date I just felt hopeless. Nobody was really clicking and most of the time I just wanted to get back home and put my diapers on. However when I first met Adam all of that went away. He was so confident, masculine, and strong. He worked as a software manager at a tech company but was so opposite of most of his nerdy co-workers. He was tall, fit, with blonde hair and piercing green eyes. He not only made other men fall in love with him but more times than not was getting looks from ladies.

We clicked right away and one date turned into two, three, and then five and then we became boyfriends. We had similar enough interests in tv shows, video games, and the same philosophy in life. He taught me to be more confident in myself and pursue my interests. I had gotten promoted several times since I first met him and was making new friends and starting new hobbies. Not only that but the sex was everything I had imagined it would be. He was a dominant top who had no interest in bottoming. His huge penis dwarfed mine and he sometimes got me off by just fingering my ass. He had also gotten promoted since we first met and was really growing more handsome every day. Plus he was three years younger than me and already a lot more successful.

It was so good that my diaper desires didn’t even come up. Sure I thought about it from time to time but I mistakenly thought I was cured of my fetish. That I finally found someone who was dominant, sexy, and smart and I wanted to spend all of my time with him. But then things settled a bit, as they do, after a new relationship starts and my mind wandered back to my diapers I had hidden away at my place. It had been so long and the idea of being back in my thick wet diapers made my blood rush and as the relationship moved forward. I knew I would eventually have to say something to Adam.

Adam proposed that we should move in together and I loved the idea. But I dreaded what I would have to eventually tell him. There was just no way that I could keep this a secret any longer especially if we lived together. I was practically already living with him but whenever I went back to my place I would use that time to get in my diapers and wear baby clothes. It was something I couldn’t quite give up and I knew I would have to indulge from time to time when we moved in together.

So we moved in together.

About a month in I confessed.

The sex the night of my confession wasn’t that great. I just wasn’t that into it and he couldn’t get me off. I blame it on looking at diaper porn online. I had been looking at it all day and while Adam was going to town on my ass my mind was wandering. I just needed to wear and wet my diapers and just wasn’t feeling usual routine.

Adam pulled out. God he looked so hot. He had a glow about him and he just seemed to happy and satisfied.

“Want me to still get you off?” he said looking down at my limp dick.

“Um no I’m ok tonight,” I gritted my teeth, “I have to talk to you about something.” He looked at me all concerned, “It’s nothing bad it’s just something I should tell you.”

We showered together in silence and then sat down in front of my laptop soon after as I explained it to him. He looked confused but seemed curious and open.

“I mean I’ve heard of it,” he said, “So you get off on wearing and using diapers, and acting like a baby?”

“More or less,” I squeaked. I had been so nervous; I was sweating and barely making eye contact, “It’s kind of a submissive thing. I get off not only wearing and using diapers but someone humiliating me, teasing me, embarrassing me, basically treating me that way.”

“Treating you like a toddler?” Adam questioned.

“Yea…”

“And I’m the Daddy?”

“Yeeeeaaa…” I said turning to look at him. He seemed perplexed staring back at me and looking at the website explaining the fetish.

Adam nodded, “Ok, I’m going to need some time to sort of digest this information.”

“Are you mad? Grossed out?” I asked.

“No,” he said shaking his head, “It just changes my perception of you a little bit.”

Now here we were months later ten months later and things had changed drastically in our relationship. If one could even really call it that anymore. I didn’t really feel like Adam’s boyfriend anymore, I felt completely like his big baby.

“Mmmph,” I whined again into my large orange pacifier but the battle was over, I expelled the enema with a loud splatter into the seat of my diaper. My eyes bugged feeling the soapy enema quickly and uncontrollably seep out. Pieces of gushy poopy quickly flowed out followed by some lousy noisy wet farts. My bladder also gave in and I started wetting the front of my diaper to my delight too. God this all felt so good and so right even under the watchful cocky eyes of my daddy. I wasn’t even getting erect. My peepee stayed limp, silly, and tiny in my diapers as I continued to uncontrollably mess myself.

“Four minutes, not bad tiger. Nowhere near the twenty minutes the first time we did this, but we are definitely heading the right direction. Just let it all out there kiddo. Enjoy being the baby you are and want to be,” said Daddy. He got up and brought over the towel he kept nearby. He carefully placed it under my feet just in time too as the contents of my diapers started to leak down my legs.

He stood up and looked into my concerned eyes, “It’s ok buddy. It’s ok. You’re just a baby and it’s all ok.” He brought me into an embrace as even more of the poopy enema seeped out into my pants.

I felt so utterly ridiculous and frankly embarrassed for myself in this moment. I always felt like this during these monthly enemas but on this particular day I felt like I needed a break. I was growing tired of my predicament and growing a little bored with the children’s show parental controls on the media apps that had been set up for me.

I brought my hand up to my mouth and pulled out my pacifier, “Ugh…Adam…I” I felt another gush of pee seep into my diapers which felt so good but I persisted, “I think I need a break from this baby stuff.”

He stepped back, “Did you just call me Adam?”

Before I could respond I heard the front door of the condo open. Oh god, oh no. This was really bad timing.

Around the corner walked in Papa, the 32-year-old, hairy ripped man that Adam had started seeing six months ago. Papa, was a hot shot executive producer here in Los Angeles. He was even taller than Adam, tan, and almost always had a five o’clock shadow. He had dark hair, dark brown eyes, and probably went to the gym five days a week to stay in peak shape when he wasn’t working. At times he scared me and definitely put me in my place when I acted out. Other times he babied and dotted on me so much I couldn’t help but gush over him cause he made me feel so much like his own baby. He was mesmerizing and I had to shake my head a few times and remember I wasn’t really his actual son. He was so masculine that Adam who had always declared he was a dominant top with me, suddenly became a lot more versatile.

“Victor, guess who just called me Adam?” said Daddy looking over at Papa as he strolled into the room. Papa placed his arm around Daddy and looked at me.

“I certainly hoped it wasn’t my princess,” chided Papa looking down at me with a toothy smile, “Hmm?”

He touched each of my cheeks with his large masculine hands and I couldn’t help but smile and looked at the floor, “You didn’t call your Daddy by the wrong name did you sweetie?”

I didn’t respond. I felt so completely infantile right now. Papa always made me feel that way by just looking at me. It sure didn’t help that I was still uncontrollably filling the back of my diapers and the smell of peepee and baby powder was rifling. Feeling my thick swollen diapers held tight under all of my baby clothes certainly made me feel regressed too, not that I wasn’t almost always feeling this way.

Things had definitely changed since I had confessed to Adam about my diaper desires. I think at first he felt betrayed since I told him after we had already signed a twelve month lease for the condo where he was paying more than his fair share of the rent. I had also kept such a big secret away from him during our entire relationship. But after a few days he seemed to come around and was open to using diapers on me and role play a bit.

However he started to get really into it. I mean he really went all in.

It was a dream come true at the beginning, but you always need to be careful what you wish for. I still remember the early days. Adam would command me to come up to the bedroom where he would have a Dry 24/7 waiting for me. He’d strip me down and put me in the diaper. He’d tell me just how much I loved wearing diapers and how I deserved to be in them all the time. He called me his boy and I had to call him Daddy. God, sucking him while I was wearing nothing but a diaper was great. Or I loved it when he rubbed me and got me in my diapers or suddenly ripped them off to fuck. He even got so aggressive that he would cut a whole into the back of my diapers and would fuck me while I was still wearing it. Feeling my peepee rub into the soft disposable material while he pleasured himself was fantastic.

Then the novelty wore off for him. He wanted to just had some good old fashioned fondling and vanilla sex. He liked to be aggressive but as he said, “I still want my boyfriend. I don’t want you in diapers all the time. I fell in love with you cause we were buddies.”

However the damage was done to my sex drive. Our crazy diaper sex had cemented the connection between pleasure and diapers for me and I had grown dependent on them when wanting to get off. While the kissing, caressing, and bottoming felt good it just didn’t quite fill the proverbial hole that I needed for diapers. Adam noticed my disinterest and expressed concern when I still had trouble getting off after two weeks of a dry spell.

“So if I pulled out a diaper right now, you’d probably get off in thirty seconds,” he said exasperated. I blushed already feeling the blood flow into my dick at the near mention of a diaper.

“That’s what I thought,” he said seeing me get harder and harder, he at first looked defeated but then I saw an idea flash across his eyes, “I love you, and I know you love me. But I know you need diapers in order to feel fulfilled and happy.”

“I…” I started as tears started to well up in my eyes.

“No let me finish. I mean look at you, that is the hardest and most aroused you’ve been all night. I get it. This is just who you are. I’ve done the research, I’ve read up what you told me to read up. I get it. I love taking care of you and I love you being at my beck and all. Being such a good helper around here the house and making sure I’m comfortable. And I can deal with the diapers. I can even deal with the baby stuff. I can even get off making you feel humiliated and embarrassed. I love that control and I love doing that you. But I can’t date a big baby like you. I need a man. I need someone who is going to challenge me and push me to do the best that I can. I need someone who is dependable and strong. Someone who wants to have sex like grown adults.”

“But…Adam…I can be an adult…I can be those things…” I said as tears streamed down my face. My dick swelled up even more as Adam continued to talk down to me.

“No you really can’t. And you know you don’t want to be either. I know you’ve grown a lot since we first met but that’s not who you really are and I want you to be who you really are. You shouldn’t have to force yourself to be this ideal fake version of you just because someone else wants you to be that way. You have to be you. Plus, come on, you don’t want a boyfriend. You want a Daddy.”

I found my hand gravitating toward my dick. No! Why was I playing with myself! No I had to stop. Adam was basically telling me he wanted to break up with me, that he couldn’t date me anymore.

“You want a Daddy who will keep you in your diapers. A Daddy who will treat you like the baby you really want to be. Someone who will change your dirty diapers. Someone who will feed you, bathe you, and put you down for a nap. Someone who will even punish and spank you if need be. I know you’ve said you’ve wanted that before.”

I was breathing hard as I kept jacking off in front of Adam. I was so turned on yet so completely mortified at what he was saying. I was totally proving and showing him that he was right. That I wanted and needed these things.

“Look at you, the mere mention of diapers and you’re hard and you know all of this to be true. You love wearing diapers, you love wetting your diapers, and you’ve told me you love pooping your diapers. Dude you really are a baby through and through. Men don’t do that at all. I found it funny at first when I came home and caught you watching Power Rangers. Then I found it peculiar when I caught you watching Paw Patrol. Remember that night you suggested that you should go to sleep in a diaper? Or when I came home and you already had one on under your clothes. You told me you just put it on but it looked like you had been wearing it for hours. You really don’t want to be a man, you want to be a big overgrown toddler whose greatest pleasure come from your diapers. You need a Daddy.”

I couldn’t handle it anymore and I exploded shooting cum across the room. I was moaning and bawling as I continued to pump my dick. I continued to orgasm, shooting ropes of cum across the bed. I collapsed on the bed.

I gasped for air as the realization of what Adam said started to sink in. My long and only two year relationship was about to end because of my diapers.

“I can’t be your boyfriend anymore,” said Adam, “But…I can definitely be your Daddy.”

Part 2

“Come on now pumpkin, you wouldn’t lie to your Papa,” said Papa putting a finger under my chin. His syrupy and deep voice was hard to resist. He slowly lifted up my head so I faced him and Daddy.

I was all flustered and my eyes started to water. Papa glanced knowingly at Daddy as my tears gave my answer away. God I really had become such a baby around these two. I was always so emotional and I was so quick to start crying now. Maybe I had always been this way but had kept my emotions hidden cause I thought I had to be a man. Maybe I was just finally being my true self, and that was a big crying baby. My behavior had changed rapidly as the walls had started to come down over the last few months, especially since Papa moved in. My old self, the guy who had been Daddy’s boyfriend, seemed so foreign to me now. It felt so distant and it was hard to connect with, especially now seeing him kiss Papa in front of me. They just looked so superior, masculine, and grown up. While I felt so utterly childish in my full stinky diaper trying to remember how I got to this point.

After Adam had told me he couldn’t be my boyfriend anymore I got my wish. I got to sleep in a diaper. Only it wasn’t in our bed, it was in the guest bedroom downstairs which had immediately become my new room. It was smaller and housed my old bed from my apartment before we moved in. It was nondescript and we rarely went in there. Adam had quickly diapered me after I came all over the sheets and told me I should start moving my stuff in the “nursery” while he did some laundry.

The whole situation felt weird, especially coming down from my horny bliss. I felt so embarrassed around Adam. I didn’t know what to say or how to act around him as we crossed paths that night. He said we would have to come up with some ground rules and talk a little bit more but that he was deadly serious that our relationship had evolved into something else. As I settled down for the night, crinkling in the thick adult diaper Adam had put on me, I already felt different. This was different than our usual submissive play. When we had sex there was always an end game, we’d get off and then we’d be back to being equals again. This current submissive feeling felt more all-encompassing. Here I was, downstairs in the guest bedroom in my diapers while my boyfriend…er my daddy slept in the master bedroom upstairs. It felt extremely right, and that was frightening. Like I was in my rightful place.

“So here is the deal,” said Adam the next morning. He looked tired too as he sat down on the end of the bed. He had clearly been up all night and was now sipping on some coffee. “I want to be clear, we are not really boyfriends anymore. Not in the traditional sense. In my mind I’m now in control. If it evolves to me being your daddy, so be it. We will see where this goes. I know we have a history together and I know this is a sexual thing for you… so at best we’re friends with benefits. Understand?”

“Yea,” I said quietly starting to wake up. Adam didn’t even knock. He just kind of walked right in and started talking. I guess I didn’t have any privacy at all anymore, “As long as this can still work with both of us living here.”

“I’m not worried about that,” he said confidently, “Not at all. It’s you I’m worried about. This place is under my name and I can easily take over the rent if need be. I know you don’t make nearly as much money as me and you obviously need someone to take care of you. I’m more concerned if you can follow the conditions I’m setting for you.”

“Conditions?” I squeaked.

“Sh…” he hushed me. Adam put his hand on my thigh and started rubbing it. He did this from time to time and it always felt romantic and comforting, but given the current situation it felt emasculating. Like he was reassuring me like I was a concerned toddler. “Yea, things are going to change a little bit around here. You are always going to wear diapers when you are home. No matter what. The minute you walk in the door I want you to put a diaper on. When you’re not here I don’t care what you wear but under my roof you are wearing diapers. What’s funny is I don’t even think that is even going to be that big of an issue for you. I think it’ll probably be freeing. You finally get to wear them as much as you want! Doesn’t that sound nice?”

I started to get hard just thinking about it, was this really happening? But then the severity of the situation started to settle in, “But what if we have friends or guests over?”

Adam shrugged, “Well, that is something you’re going to have to deal with. But I want my baby boy protected at all times. Sure it might be embarrassing and you might have to tell people you wear diapers but you love them so much you really should be in them all the time.”

“I don’t know…”

“You do love wearing them. You can’t really deny that, you’ve told me how good they feel to you. Why keep that from yourself?” he asked. It almost sounded a bit condescending. Adam did know how much I liked them but he also knew how they made me feel. Being in diapers in our bedroom and at home was one thing but still wearing them when other people were over was something else. That was a lifestyle change. “If not then like I don’t know what to say. We’ll find you another place to live but I can’t do this then. I love you and I want to take care of you and let you be who you are. But I can’t do it both ways where sometimes you need your diapers and sometimes you don’t and it’s this whole thing. It just becomes too much. And then when I bring guys home what am I going to say, that my ex-boyfriend is sleeping in the guest bedroom?”

“Wait what?” I asked. My heart was racing, was he already thinking of other guys to bring home.

“Yea I told you. I need to have sex. I need to have sex with men and not big babies. Obviously not right away cause I’m going to kind of have to mourn the end of this. But eventually yea I’m going to be bringing guys here. And it isn’t like I won’t still play around with you, it’ll just be different. It’ll be more suited to your needs.”

I did my best to suppress a moan. God, actually sounded so hot. I felt horny just imagining it, but it all felt so shameful. I looked down at my diaper. Did I really want this? Part of it was ticking some boxes for me. I’d get my diapers and still have some sexy times with Adam and he’d still get to be with me but also meet his own needs. And then Adam telling some other guy I wore diapers too…how embarrassing…it sounded degrading but so fitting too.

“Come on, just imagine. You would get to wear diapers all the time! How does that sound? Seriously, I bet you’re getting excited just thinking about it. Waking up in diapers, watching all of your favorite shows in diapers, playing video games in just your diapers! Sounds like one of the stories you told me about. You don’t have to wait to put one on when I get home from work and we have sex. Plus the toilet is going to be off limits for you so imagine that! Getting to wet your diapers and finally getting to poop your pants!” Adam said almost gleefully.

“Are you sure?” I was kind of blown away that he was open to all of this. When I first brought it up to Adam that I liked wearing diapers. I did explain to him that half of the fun was actually using them for their intended use. But he didn’t really want anything to do with that. The only time I used them was in secret or when he rubbed me and I came in my diapers.

“Baby, I’m giving you the chance to finally be who you are, and not just hidden away at your old apartment. You get to be your big baby self out and proud with me. I know you’ve wanted to. Really I have. I guess I didn’t want to believe it, I just needed to come to terms with it myself and last night I finally did. I realized I’m not really dating a man. I’m really dating a submissive meek baby who wants nothing more than for me to control, pamper, and protect him. A baby whose greatest pleasure comes from being his diapers and wetting his diapers. You really want nothing more than for me to just make you wear your diapers all the time. Cause you’re too scared to admit it to yourself. Come on, isn’t that what you want? Maybe will make you more comfortable with all of your baby desires and you’ll finally be your true self. So what do you say?”

I rarely if ever cried in front of Adam. Last night, was the first in a long time I could remember actually getting really upset. But now with this offer in front of me, it was hard not to feel overwhelmed and I found myself crying again.

“Aw yea that is what I thought, it’s ok baby. We both know you can’t change who you really are and need to be. Let’s be honest, if we went our separate ways you’d still need your diapers and you’d still be a baby right?”

“Yea,” I cried.

“Aww it’s ok, sh,” said Adam putting down his coffee on the nightstand and laying in the bed next to me now. He placed my head on his chest and rubbed my belly, “There there, it’s all good. This was hard to resist I’m sure. It was hard hiding your real self and you’re so brave sharing it, but it’s time to really embrace it. You’ll get used to wearing your diapers at home and around our friends. I’m sure it’ll be tough at first but I’ll help you through it. Then we will make this room into the perfect nursery for you. You’ll start to wonder why you fought it for so long.”

I found myself nodding in agreement feeling his chest go up and down with each breath. Hearing his heartbeat as he cuddled me and reassured me. I sighed, calming down and to let my bladder empty into my waiting diaper. This was what I wanted and in this moment everything felt perfect. My new Daddy comforting me, by diaper getting warm and wet as the pee trickled down my balls and into the absorbent material. I could feel it expand slightly comforting me and reassuring me that it would always be there to protect me from any accidents I have. Not realizing, in that very moment, I was giving up most of my adult rights so willingly to Adam. That I wanted his care and comfort as a Daddy so much, that I longed and needed it so much, that I would let him turn me into such a complete and utter baby.

Even that first morning in my diapers was starting to feel like a lifetime ago and I still had so many privileges. Not like how it was today, or how it was in this very moment.

Daddy and Papa continued making out in front of me. God, it looked so passionate and hot. Papa embraced Daddy who in return rubbed his back. They looked so happy and so in love as they greeted each other after a long day. It looked so different then when I kissed Daddy now. I know he loved me but it was a different kind of love. He called me cute, tickled me, and gave me a little peck on the cheek or the mouth but there wasn’t any passion or lust to it. He would rub down my thighs and legs reassuring me that everything was ok before handing me a bottle or a sippy cup. Papa’s made me feel quite wholly silly. I could feel his scratchy beard as his kissed my cheeks, down my neck, and started giving me raspberries on my chest and stomach. He tickled, poked, and prodded my completely hairless body rubbing his fingers across my diaper. It was particularly bad when I was naked after bathtime or a diaper change and he and Daddy would chase me. They’d tackle me together, rubbing their hands across my peepee, or through my bum bum cheeks. Their bodies would start enveloping me as they would start to make on with each other on top of me slowly and quickly starting to ignore me.

Any chub or hard on I’d even get, if at all, in that moment would quickly go away as my peepee would get soft and little like a button. Papa would order Daddy to diaper me up and put me in my crib for an unscheduled nap time. Then I’d hear the two of them run up the stairs to their bedroom, laughing, grunting, and kissing. It wouldn’t be long before I started wetting my diapers or worse messing them as I heard them passionately make love, fucking each other, while my peepee stayed safe, small, and away in my lovely diapers. It was in these times I would reflect at my predicament. I’d hear what I used to do with Daddy and realize how that was all taken away from me. I’d look around my room, look at the large diaper changing table covered in thick diapers I now wore everywhere. I’d notice the plethora of plush Barney and Sesame Street dolls scattered on the floor with my Paw Patrol Playsets. I take in the fragrance of lavender from my baby lotions and powder mixed with the unmistakable smell of wet and dirty diapers that all emanated from the nursery.

I used to get hard in this moments imagining Daddy moaning, or even Papa sucking Daddy’s big dick but that was happening less and less. My baby conditioning was greatly changing my thoughts and feelings when it came to sex or getting turned on. Perhaps sometimes when I wrestled with Papa and Daddy, or during a particular sensual diaper change, or late at night in my crib as I became overwhelmed with the humiliating and degradation I was going through I’d get turned on or would get off in my diapers. But that was happening less and less all the time. I still enjoyed all of these feelings but was starting to find it weird and even wrong to get hard and to get off. It also didn’t help that Daddy’s focus had changed a lot in the last half of the year since Papa came around. Sure he’d still tease me about my diapers and about becoming a baby, but then he’d leave me to hump my diapers or would want me to quickly rub one out into my diapers while he and Papa got ready to go out on a date Friday night.

They’d be getting ready in their bedroom while I stood in the corner. My hand would be on the front of my wet diaper. I’d grip the thick padding and pull it up and down as the soft disposable material kind of rubbed against my peepee. Sometimes it was tough and I wouldn’t get off, especially if my diaper was soaked. Daddy would ever so often, in the most distracted voice, encourage me, while he pulled on a polo or put on some cologne. If I did cum, I’d quickly squirt into my padding before being ushered by Papa back to my nursery and changed into a dry diaper and put down for the night. I was so used to an early bedtime now, that sometimes I’d pass out before they would even leave to go out.

Daddy and Papa stopped kissing and looked down at me. I let out another wet fart feeling another rush of messy poopy empty into my diaper. I arched my back uncontrollably.

“He’s probably almost done,” said Daddy caressing Papa’s chest, “But I think he needs a little bit of a reminder of who he is.”

“Ok,” said Papa nodding. He cracked another smile, this one seemed a little more devilish, a little more evil. He put his large hand on my shoulder, “Ok stinky, go grab a fresh diaper from your nursery, then we are going to have a talk once we get you cleaned up.”

Papa pulled me in to his chest. I breathed in a mix of musk, cologne, and the sweat of a man who had been at work all day. I winced as he gave me two large pats on poopy wet diaper before turning me away and pushing me towards my nursery.

I walked slowly away trying to prolong the inevitable as long as possible.

“You better march sport,” I heard Papa call out, “Daddy and I aren’t happy with you Tinkerbell.”

I heard them start talking about me as I entered my nursery. Sure I could end this all right now if I really wanted to. I could be done with my babyish lifestyle. No more diapers, no more enemas, no more…ugh spankings. I cringed knowing what was about to happen. So much of this was so unfair. No man would let himself get to this point and literally be treated like a toddler, not all day long for months at a time. No man would quit his job, wear diapers all the time, and spent his days drinking from babas, and enjoying messing his pants while baby shows played. Yet here I was. Every step into my nursery, my nursery, was a reminder of how much I craved and wanted this. Feeling my wet and incredibly poopy diaper gush back and forth on my bum, sucking my pacifier, and absentmindedly still peeing away, was a reminder of how much I needed this. Feeling my shortalls pull my diaper closer and snugger to my body, as I reached for a fresh diaper reminded me of who I really was. While it was embarrassing and unfair it felt so incredibly right, real, and necessary. Sure I could end this, and maybe part of me wanted to, but I didn’t. I did not want this to end. Whatever pleasure I got from this treatment, made it all worth it.

I walked back out into the living room where Papa had pulled out my plastic changing pad along with some wipes and baby powder. He looked menacingly at me as he ushered me over. God he looked so big and strong. I felt so insignificant to him the minute I met him. He quickly won me over and as he embraced me for who I was. I almost immediately and I secretly loved all of the humiliating pet names he gave me. I’m actually not sure it was that much of a secret, cause he knew it too. He knew what kind of power he had over me. He knew just what calling me muffin, sweetcheeks, or darling did to me. He knew literally, actually, treating me like a complete baby is what I wanted and he never faltered. While Daddy probably still clung on to that old image of me from time to time, knowing I needed to get off, and I was something different at one point, Papa never saw me that way. Papa didn’t need to check in with me, Papa just needed my complete submission. He needed my compliance and he needed to make sure I remained the docile baby boy who would never be a threat. He was the one who made sure I was completely hairless. He was the one who pushed the sissy stuff on me no matter how much I balked and pushed against it. He made sure I never felt like anything other than a baby.

I held on to his shoulder as he helped me lay down on my changing pad. My diaper felt slick as the mushy poopoo slid across my bum and up towards my peepee. I looked up at him and handed him over the pink princess diaper I knew he’d want me in after my spanking.

He chuckled, “Someone’s learning how I like my little sweetie dressed.”

I moaned into my pacifier and tried not to smile as he rubbed his hand down the denim towards the snaps at my crotch. He stared into my eyes as he slowly started to unsnap the buttons one at a time. Then it was time for the onesie buttons. He did those just as slow, building the tension towards my diaper change. He was making me more nervous. Any step out of the line now meant time over Papa’s lap and he knew how to tease and torment me before all of that happened.

He grabbed my arm pulling me up to a sitting position, so he could swiftly pull my baby clothes off leaving me in nothing but my baby diaper and wet, brown colored, plastic pants. The teddy bears seemed to taunt me, showing me how much of a baby I was.

Papa pushed me back down and untapped my diaper. Looking into Papa’s eyes and feeling the cool air hit my hairless, silly, soft little peepee I understood one thing in this moment. I definitely didn’t want a boyfriend. I wanted a Daddy…but I needed a Papa.

Part 3

“Woooeee, what a stinky little boy I have here,” said Papa. He lifted my weak feeble legs with ease using the front of my diaper to wipe off as much of my messy poop form my bum as he could. I moaned into my pacifier as he wiped down the smelly mess from between my cheeks. Papa looked so cocksure of himself. He didn’t even flinch at a poopy diaper change, rather he welcomed it volunteering for them when Daddy wasn’t up for it. I think reveled in the power contrast here. He enjoyed towering over me, completely in control, as I squirmed, gasped, and squealed at his touch. This was the best way to remind me of my status in the household and who and what I was to him. To Papa, I was just a sweet, innocent, vulnerable big baby. I was naked, dependent, chaste stinky baby and Papa relished in my embarrassment as I grew more reliant on his care in my baby life.

After a quick inspection, Papa then deftly rolled up the messy diaper putting it to the side before popping open the lid of the baby wipes he had brought out. Papa rubbed the cool lavender wipes over my peepee and shriveled ballsack causing me to involuntarily shiver.

It had been weeks since I had gotten off, and I felt so horny today. I was dying for a release, I was dying for some sort of attention. It was so frustrating not being able to get off. Trapped in my diapers all day and night, only being touched like this during diaper changes or bath time. Even when I did get off it was always into my diapers. I couldn’t even remember the last time I had been able to cum outside of my diapers and was starting to become dependent on them for all of my sexual pleasure. Every time I came in them, I was just further solidifying and cementing my need and my connection to them. I was literally becoming dependent on them for not only my emotional and physical needs, but my sexual needs as well. It felt mind-blowingly amazing cumming into my pampers late at night in my crib after being put to bed but at times like this it was scary seeing how far down the rabbit hole I’ve gone.

I found myself thrusting ever so slowly and softly into the wipe. Perhaps, I thought, maybe even the slightest touch from Papa would leave me satisfied.

But nothing happened.

Papa just moved on ignoring me, continuing to wipe me down, making sure I was clean. He didn’t care if I got off. To him I was just a baby. I didn’t need to get hard and have sex. To him I just was an innocent, sensitive, and chaste boy who just loved his diapers and being treated like a baby. Besides my occasional “tantrums” or “big boy talk” as he liked to call it, I gave no indication I wasn’t completely infatuated by my baby treatment. He hummed quietly to himself as he got out another wipe and began cleaning and wiping between my bum cheeks again. He was unaware of the mental torture I was going through as he cleaned me up.

I continued to suck my pacifier and glanced down at my peepee. It looked so silly, little, and cute resting gently on what was left of my balls. I’m not sure what exactly happened. Maybe on a subconscious level, my body knew I wasn’t partaking in any adult mature activity anymore. I was never that big to begin with but I was so completely sure that my peepee had shrunk since this treatment had started. It used to be at least three inches when soft, but now it looked closer to two. When it had gotten erect, I had just about reached an average five inches. It had never been that thick but I felt like it had at least been a normal length. Now always constricted to my pamper cumming sessions, I’m not sure it would reach three and a half inches and certainly never felt as erect as it used to. I would get only slightly hard in my diapers and when came, well, it just sort of leaked out. My balls had seemed to shrink as well. Or at least they looked a lot smaller and held high and tight against my body and partially receded into my abdomen.

It also didn’t help how hairless my peepee was. Papa and Daddy would routinely shave me from the neck down and then rub me down with a hair growth inhibitor. The hair around my crotch would grow slow and wispy and quickly shaved away before my peepee could show any maturity. I caught a quick glance of Papa’s crotch as he continued to wipe me down and inspect me. Even his soft dick was bigger than my biggest and most proud erections.

Papa he lifted my legs for one last wipe down. I felt so vulnerable in this position as he held my knees to my chest, giving him full view of my bum. A buzz of babyish feelings went through me in this moment as I cooed and squealed. I slobbered and drooled around my pacifier feeling so completely babyish as he took care of me, reveling in these feelings. I was completely at the whim and mercy of my two strong, confident, manly caretakers. These were feelings of regression that were impossible to shake. I would just get lost in my baby world and any shame I had would dissipate as I felt like a true and utter toddler.

I first felt these feelings not long after I moved into the guest bedroom, and started wearing diapers whenever I was home. I could wear boxer briefs and use the toilet at work but the minute I walked in the door I was to immediately go to my room, powder up, and get on one of my thick and fluffy diapers. Under Adam’s new rules the toilet was completely off limits when I was wearing at home and I was expected and encouraged to use my diapers. This was a fairly smooth transition and actually pretty enjoyable. There were times in the first few weeks I would start to second guess what I was doing but pushed through those thoughts and continued on. In fact it was so enjoyable that I proudly diapered up even when I didn’t expect Adam to be home for several hours or until late at night. Partially because I wanted to and partially because of the fear of what he would say or do if he caught me without them on.

It had taken some getting used to actually using my diapers in front of him though. Wetting wasn’t that big of issue especially small wettings when he didn’t realize I was going. However he loved encouraging me when he realized I was flooding my diapers. It felt emasculating when he would tell me how proud he was of me wetting my diapers and continued to reassure me. Sometimes he would pull down my pants and tell me I should proudly show my diapers off.

“Show your diapers off baby! It must feel so good to wear your diapers and go peepee in your pants!”

I would get so hard in my diaper as he forced me to walk around the kitchen in my warm, wonderful, wet diapers. Every step the wet diapers would caress my crotch and I’d get so turned on by Adam’s encouraging remarks, feeling my penis rub against the soggy material. This led to sex a few times after our break up but more and more Adam would just turn around back to what he was doing telling me to “run along now naughty boy”. I would then quickly scurry off to my bedroom untape my diaper and start masturbating. God, being talked to that way and treated that way felt so good, so right, I loved being Daddy’s naughty boy going peepee in my diap…

“Oaaah” I would moan, climaxing quickly just seconds after taking my diapers off. I remember having a moment of clarity during these times, reflecting on what was happening, knowing I could and probably should stop. Maybe I didn’t need to be Daddy’s diaper boy anymore. Maybe I wasn’t a big baby after all. However these moments were short lived. I would hear Adam shuffle around outside my room and I’d quickly run over and diaper up again. I was starting to feel terrified if Adam had ever caught me without my diapers on and what the consequences would be. I would quickly rejoin him after I finished pleasuring myself feeling so utterly sheepish walking back into the kitchen. Adam would take a quick glance at my new fresh diaper and grin. He knew what I just did and he liked how I was losing control to him.

Pooping was incredibly hard at first too. I would usually go off to my bedroom when I felt I had to go and clean up on my own. Then I could enjoy it and didn’t have to bother Adam with the smell or clean up. Adam kept insisting that he didn’t mind and I should feel comfortable going in front of him. He would tell me I was just a baby and it wasn’t like anybody would be surprised if I messed my diaper. Adam said I should just go whenever and wherever like a real baby would.

“Where do you think you’re going mister?” asked Adam one afternoon when I started to get up. He was sprawled out on the couch watching a football game. The power exchange was already very apparent at this point. Here he was in a t-shirt and basketball shorts watching a game while I was wearing a soggy Dry 24/7 and a Mario T-shirt looking at cartoons on my laptop.

“I uh…”

“Are you going to go do a poopoo in your room?” he asked. I slowly nodded. My cheeks grew bright red and I felt so bashful. I was admitting I was about to go poopy in my pants in front of…god whoever Adam was to me now.

“You don’t need to hide when you go poopoo in your diapers, ok?”

“Ok,” I said quietly, my voice slightly quivering, maybe an octave higher than usual.

“Daddy doesn’t mind, just use your diapers baby. I know it’s embarrassing but Daddy will clean you up when you’re done ok?”

“Ok Daddy,” I said wincing at my voice again. I sounded like such a big baby and really felt like one too. Daddy’s voice felt so warm and nice. He really wanted me to do this and I wanted to please him. At the same time it felt so taboo and I was hesitant to go. This was going to be a big step. I kept taking deep breaths standing awkwardly nearby trying to relax. Adam would occasional look at me and then back at the tv. I took another deep breath and started to push. Oh god, what was I doing. Why did I feel the need to do this? Why was this my new normal? Was I somehow trying to in some way impress my ex-boyfriend? Show him that I really was a big baby and this was a way to prove it? I fantasized about this moment, pooping in my diapers for Adam. I remember countless times masturbating, thinking all of these wonderful thoughts on what it would feel like with him watching me, what he would look like and think of me as I ultimately surrendered to his will. I’d get off thinking of losing all control and messing my pants proving once and for all that he was superior. A real man would never imagine himself pooping in his diapers for his daddy. Only a baby would, a baby like me who would rush home to get his diapers on and want to please his daddy by degrading himself this way.

It all felt so incredible and so good as I squatted and slowly starting to push. I stuck out my big diapered bottom and put my hands on my thighs doing a big poopy for Daddy. I could feel it spread out into the seat of my diaper hitting the back and starting to curl down between my legs. I farted as more poopy started to rush out feeling it spread against my cheeks. More and more thick poopy packed into my pants weighing it down, spreading into every area it could. My diaper grew heavier with each passing second as I continue to push the load into my waiting diaper. Suddenly my bladder gave in and I found myself wetting the front of my diaper as well. I closed my eyes rubbing the warm bulk of the diaper. My thighs squeezing together and my mouth dropped open. Nothing was better than this. An uncontrollable high pitched moan escaped my mouth causing me to break out of my stupor and glance over at Adam.

His face was a mixture of surprise and amusement but also someone who now knew they had overwhelming control and power over me. He had kept me in diapers for a full month and I was complying with each and everything he said. At this point Adam knew that I was willing to do just about anything if it involved diapers and my utter embarrassing devotion to them and being a baby.

I stayed squatted there in silence, my face felt hot and flushed. I had never felt so completely embarrassed in my entire life. Did I really just do that? What just happened? Was there any turning back from this point on? I felt so utterly ridiculous and was starting to choke up and get emotional.

“I’m…I’m sorry…” I choked out. I started to cry.

Adam slowly over and embraced me. I suddenly felt even more self-conscious knowing he could probably smell the stinky poop in my diaper as he rubbed my back.

“This was too much, I know,” I continued to cry.

“No no, it’s ok,” he softly whispered to me, “You should be so proud of yourself, you finally did a poopoo in front of your Daddy. I know how hard that was.”

“But Daddy…”

“Sh, it’s ok. I know how difficult that was. It’s tough being a baby, going peepee and poopy with other people around. With me around. Being around someone who would never dream of doing the things you do, someone who would never dare put on a diaper. I bet it’s pretty embarrassing to admit how much you’re enjoying all of this. I bet you can’t wait to come home from work and put on a diaper. Then once you get home and have one on you can’t wet them fast enough. I’m sure you day dream at work thinking of all the ways I’m going to tease you when you get home,” said Daddy. I rested my head on his shoulder and he started to rock me back and forth.

“There there, I know you still keep hiding how much of a baby you are and I want you to stop. I want you to be proud that you’re a complete and utter baby. You already look so silly and ridiculous in your diapers you know? Thick white diapers, covering up your little dick. It’s so cute watching you scamper off to your bedroom after you get so turned on by my teasing. Hearing that crinkle and rustling of your diapers as you pleasure yourself like a naughty boy. Oh I know baby. I know what you’re doing. You are truly and completely a diaper boy. Late at night, watching Barney in your bedroom? Who does that? Oh I know only a big baby like you and now look at you, crying on your Daddy’s shoulder with a huge poopy in your pants as I continue to talk down to you. I bet you are so turned on right now.”

Daddy reached down and slowly began rubbing the front of my diaper. I moaned feeling his big heavy hand rub me through my thick soggy padding. I started breathing heavily.

“That’s it baby, that’s it,” he said quietly. I noticed there was a husky quality to his voice as I pushed into his hand, “What a naughty, stinky, boy I have. Going poopoo in his diapers for daddy.”

I let out another moan and closed my eyes once. I rocked and thrusted into his hand feeling the heavy poopoo spread around in the back of my diaper. The leg gatherers sticking ever so slightly to my thighs feeling my tiny peepee press into its soggy confines.

“Come on baby, cum for daddy.”

“Ooooh!” I moaned. I held on to Daddy’s shoulders for support feeling myself squirt uncontrollably into my messy diaper, “Oh god! Daddy!” I squealed bucking my hips forward rubbing my diaper furiously into his hand.

I collapsed onto him, hugging Adam, as he rubbed my back. There was a sense of tranquility as we stood there for a second. For the first time in a month I wasn’t trying to figure out our new relationship. I was a peace, feeling my place, feeling acceptance.

“I love you Daddy,” I whispered.

“I know baby, I know,” said Adam, “Who knew you were so quick to cum from a poopy diaper huh?”

A wave of embarrassment hit me as Adam started to tease me and the glow of my orgasm started to wear off, “Seriously, how many seconds was that? We could have saved so much time when we were together if we had just come to this conclusion months ago. Just think of all of those long endless hands jobs I gave you. Sometimes I thought, is he ever going to get off? When all you needed to do was make a poopy in a diaper. Dude you really are a baby through and through, no real man would ever get off this way and definitely not this quickly. I don’t want why you were trying to fool yourself you just got to be you.”

Adam lifted my head so I met his gaze, “And that is a baby who obviously loves his diapers!”

My stomach churned feeling a huge wave of embarrassment as Adam reminded me what I knew was true. It was so easy for me to get excited and get off wearing diapers. Within seconds I found myself turned on and excited and immediately able to get off.

That was never the case with just old fashioned sex and now here I was months and months later and even the touch of a man did nothing. I needed my babyish padding to feel anything.

Papa gently brought my legs back down and tossed the last of the used wipes into my dirty diaper before taping it up. He gathered up the box of wipes and baby powder and threw my used diaper away in the trash before making his way to the couch.

“Come on over pipsqueak,” said Papa. He sat down and patted his knee. He was being so calm and quiet it scared me. He didn’t let on to what he was thinking at all. He remained stoic as he looked down at me naked on the floor.

“Come on now sunshine, we need to talk about what you did,” he said. I stood up and slowly made my way over to him. I somehow still felt so incredibly little and sissyish as I got closer. Here I was standing over him yet he did such a good job making me feel small and helpless. I sucked on my pacifier harder as I slowly sat my naked bum bum down on his knee. Papa placed one hand on my lower back and slowly rubbed my smooth hairless thigh with the other one.

“Now, can you explain to me what happened before I got home?” Papa asked calmly. He reached up and pulled my pacifier out of my mouth. He snickered as it popped out as dribble rushed down my chin. I immediately felt vulnerable, wanting it back, feeling empty and insecure without it.

“I uh…” I looked down once again noticing the contrast in our appearance. I sat naked with my tiny, soft, little hairless peepee on the lap of a fully clothed dominant and assertive man.

“What did you call your Daddy?” he asked a little more sternly this time. He rubbed my thigh trying to persuade me to talk.

“I called Daddy…” I started.

“Speak up silly, Papa can’t hear you,” he interjected.

I swallowed, why was this so hard admitting this? Why did I give Papa so much control over me? He was just a man…like me…I was just another man…wasn’t I? But a man wouldn’t put himself in this position. He would never let this happen to him. He wouldn’t be excited about the thick pink diaper he was about to get on and his Barney episode marathon he was going to watch tonight with his favorite blankie.

“I…. called Daddy by the wrong name, I called him….. Adam,” I said with all the courage of a toddler.

“And why did you do that?” asked Papa nodding. Now he was looking off and thinking.

“I don’t know…I was just so embarrassed…” I started blabbering and whining and then suddenly felt like I was on the verge of tears. I felt a bubble in my throat and was starting to get upset. Before I knew it, all of my frustration started to come out.

“…and I’m tired of being treated like a baby! I just wanted a break….” I was getting more worked up and heated, “It’s just so unfair! Papa, going to bed early, always using a diaper….drinking from bottles all the time…it’s so embarrassing and exhausting…. and you guys just come and go as you please! Whenever…whenever I go anywhere it’s always with you guys and we need to get my diaper bag ready and we have to work it around my nap time…my nap time! Plus all I get to watch are baby shows …and I eat baby food….I’m just tired of it all Papa.” I was choking as I raised my voice, “You and Daddy look like you have so much fun all the time getting to do whatever you want and I want that.”

I took a deep breath surprised I had just blurted all of that out. My face felt flushed and tears were steaming down my face. I didn’t realize I was so upset, where did that come from? I had so much to say and I was so envious of Papa and Daddy and their freedom.

Papa looked at me in the eyes, “Are you done throwing your tantrum?”

I felt completed deflated, “What?!”

“You’re having a full blown temper tantrum and you’re trying to tell me what? You aren’t a baby?”

I burst out crying feeling more hot tears stream down my face. How could I ever win? Here I was telling him my concerns and I was only proving I needed this treatment more than ever.

“You’re in hysterics over what? Watching Sesame Street or sitting in your car seat in the back of the car? Isn’t that silly? Plus you love all of that. You told me. You said it feels so good.”

“But…but…” I felt defeated. My anger was nothing but a minor annoyance to him. I was just a baby having a fit. Sure it was probably irritating to Papa but it was nothing more than a little temper tantrum. Something he could laugh off later tonight with Daddy in bed while I was passed out wetting my diapers in my sleep.

“No buts big guy. I’m tired of this happening every other month. Daddy and I give you everything you could possibly want and yet sometimes you act like it’s still not enough. Plus I don’t believe you. I really don’t. Remember when I when I moved in? You were so shy the first few times I met you but when I finally moved in and suggested getting you a real crib and making your room a real nursery you practically flooded your diapers?”

Papa rubbed my back as I remembered when Adam first started dating again. Adam started treating me very differently after I came in my poopy diaper for him. I think in that moment he realized the old me was gone and the new baby me was here to stay. I believe in that moment he finished mourning our old relationship and was ready to move on. He insisted that I should call him Daddy more and more and even suggested I should start wearing my diapers out of the house all the time. He did it in such a slow and clever way too. He wanted me to be comfortable and realize wearing my diapers were no big deal so he suggested thinner diapers whenever friends were over. They had a very babyish print of baby animals using construction equipment but were practically undetectable. When people came over to play games, I definitely started to forget I was padded, at least a little bit.

Then Daddy suggested I should wear the thinner ones to work.

At first I was reluctant but after a lot of encouragement. I took the plunge. It was an extremely scary day and I stayed sitting at my desk for most of it. I was so worried that any slight crinkle or movement would draw attention to me but suddenly it was five o’clock and no one had paid any attention. No one knew I had worn a diaper to work except for Daddy and me. So I tried it again the next day, then the next and soon I was wearing my diapers to work every day.

Once I had gotten more comfortable with that and realized no one could tell, I started wearing the thin ones out all the time. I would go to work, run errands, or to the movies in my diapers. I even realized I could go running and to the gym and no one would say anything. The freedom of wearing babyish print diapers under my jeans and shorts all the time felt wonderful. It was freeing feeling that nice, padding on my little dick felt so nice. I loved the feeling of my butt swaying back and forth. It just felt so right and was so normal for me. It had been nearly three months since I confessed to Daddy about my love of diapers and wanting to be a baby and now hear I was wearing diapers all the time. I hadn’t used the potty at home in two months and for the last two weeks I was wearing diapers 24/7 and hadn’t used the potty at all.

It was early Friday night; I was in my room when Daddy came in to check my wet diaper. He chuckled eyeing the small purple television we had set up in here. I was watching yet another episode of Paw Patrol wearing nothing but a light blue shirt and a thick baby print diaper.

“Good, only a little wet,” he said sitting down on the bed next to me. “So um…just wanted to let you know…this man I’ve been seeing is about to come pick me up for a date.”

I turned to look at Daddy. I had absentmindedly been watching the show trying to register what he just said. Daddy had started dating again over this past month. He felt like it was finally the right time especially since he was now changing all of my wet and dirty diapers. We had set up a new rule, only he was allowed to change my diapers except when I was at work. That meant no matter how wet or messy my diaper got, I wasn’t allowed to change myself. I was giving more and more power and control over ot him. Because of that I think he was starting to lose some attraction for me too especially after a few messy diaper blowouts. Who could really blame him though? He’d be wiping up my messy little dick and balls, powdering me with a thin layer of baby powder, then taping me up in pastel colored thick diapers. He’d definitely start fantasizing about other men, real men. He’d start fantasizing about real men who didn’t wet and mess there pants. These real men who weren’t beginning to look up pacifiers and baby clothes like I was. Who wouldn’t? Every time he changed my diaper it would just further reinforce who and what I was to him now.

At first I was upset when he started dating. He didn’t offer too many details and told me at the last minute what his plans were for the night. It was upsetting and frustrating knowing he was out with some other guy and I was stuck at home in my wet diapers playing with a new toy he had gotten me. But I quickly realized this was exactly what I wanted and needed, even if it was hard to accept. I got to spend the whole night at home regressing. I could flood my diapers, I could play with my toys, and confidently watch my baby shows and he could do whatever boring grown up stuff he thought was important. Sure it was irritating not knowing what exactly he was doing but it felt oddly appropriate. Grownups don’t tell their toddlers or babies what they’re doing. Daddy was only letting me know what time he might be back so I knew when my diaper might get changed. It was a humbling experience and it made me start feeling a lot less like a man and really realizing my place in the world.

I was also really starting to live out my fantasy and I found Daddy going out on dates with other men to be such a turn on. I was turning into such a little diaper cuckold. I’d hear Daddy drive away and I’d start somewhat uncontrollably wetting myself. Partly due to wearing diapers all the time now. I still had a lot of control but I was getting lazy and found holding it to be unnecessary most of the time. But also partly due to my anxiousness of the situation. It’s like when you have an important job interview or about to take an exam and you find yourself rushing to the bathroom a few times. You just can’t control yourself due to stress. I was stressed out about Daddy meeting up with a man, a real man who probably wore boxer shorts and never dreamed of wearing diapers. A grown man who was worried about getting laid that night and not worried about what episode of Paw Patrol he was on. A man with a real dick and not a below average peepee like mine. Daddy would be meeting up with him, getting dinner somewhere, then would probably kiss him and who knows maybe even sleep with him.

The thought of it caused me to wet myself. There would be a rush of hot weewee in my baby diapers. It would trickle down and soak into my diaper causing it to get all soggy, squishy, wet, and thick. My peepee would get so very hard in my padding realizing I had submissively just wet myself. My hand would gravitate to the front of my diaper as I began rubbing myself. A whiff of pee and baby powder would come up to my nose. I’d bring my thighs together squeezing the soggy padding between my legs. I’d feel my peepee slipping and sliding in it’s wet and soggy confines. I’d look around my room which was slowly turning into a nursery. I’d look at my diaper pail, my packages of diapers, and my new toys Daddy had gotten me. I’d turn back and see the suggested baby and kid shows on my tv based on my interests and viewing patterns. I’d think about how I wore diapers all the time now. I couldn’t even remember the last time I used a potty or I’d think about how I had pooped my diaper that morning right in front of Daddy as he was getting ready for is day, without even thinking much about it. I was nothing but his little diaper boy at home, getting off in his wet diapers, and he was going to be lying down next to a hairy real grown man. They’d be grunting, kissing, and fucking while I’d be turning of my cute whale lamp, laying down in my nice soft bed, and sucking my thumb. I’d be just trickling away in my diapers, safe and docile like a good baby boy getting to bed nice and early.

I’d whimper as I came in my pampers. A silly grin would creep across my face as I felt wave after wave of embarrassment as I pumped my peepee into my diaper. Mortified I was pleasuring myself to my own humiliation but loving every minute of it. This all felt so incredible. I could shout to the world how much I love my diapers in that moment. This all felt so right and good.

As I came down from my orgasmic high I’d then stand there for a second realizing what was happening to me. Realizing just how powerless I was stop it. Did I really just get off in my wet diaper thinking about Adam having sex with another man? Who does that? I’d sigh and squish back down on my bed. I’d somehow convincing myself Power Rangers was at least a more mature show and I should watch that instead of Barney or Paw Patrol. I could easily get out of my diaper right then and put a stop to all of this. I could go find my underwear or put on a pair of Daddy’s underpants and start searching for my own place…

I could.

But I wasn’t going to.

Nope. An episode of Power Rangers started to play and my thumb snuck into my mouth. I rested my other hand on the front of my diaper and sighed in contentment hearing the catchy theme song to yet another episode of my “mature” show. I let out a tiny little fart, hoping I wouldn’t have to go poopoo in my pants before my Daddy got home. My little dick, small, soft, and little nestled into my diapers again as I slowly nodded off to sleep.

All that being said, I still had never met any of these men. Daddy had never brought anyone home and I wasn’t sure how I’d react seeing Daddy with anyone else but me.

DING DONG!

“That must be him,” said Daddy getting up from my bed. I shook my head out of my thoughts and out of my day dreams. I was suddenly very nervous and quickly glanced around my room for a pair of pants.

“Hey there,” I heard Daddy say from right outside my room. God why did my nursery have to be right next to the front door?

“How’s it going?” I heard a deep masculine voice reply. I heard them kiss outside as I spotted a pair of jeans, “I got the little guy something.”

“Aw that’s perfect, I think he’s going to be a little nervous,” I heard Daddy say.

“Where is he?” I heard the deep baritone voice say.

“Right in here,” I heard Daddy.

“No no no,” I squeaked trying to get my leg into my jeans. Only Daddy had ever seen me in just my diapers. I wasn’t ready for this.

My door creaked open as Daddy walked in, “Hey there big boy, I have someone I’d like you to meet.”

Behind Daddy walked the most magnificent man I had ever seen. He was incredibly tall, fit, and hunky and holding a huge brown teddy bear. He was dressed in an off-white button down shirt, wearing a dark blue and red tie, and nice pair of slacks. His dark black hair perfectly coifed and he had this amazing smile. I suddenly got lost in his dark eyes as he looked me up and down trying to stifle a giggle.

“Hey there buddy,” said the man to me, he turned to Daddy, “He looks just like his pictures.”

I didn’t even know how to respond. I was so overwhelmed I just stood there with one leg in a pair of pants, completely exposed in my diaper. I suddenly, uncontrollably, started flooding my diapers. Daddy just smiled, “Can you say hello to Papa for me?”

[Written by @/tksubdiaperboy, but got deleted. Reposted with his permission. You can find him on twitter as diapetk]

[adultbabystories]

It’s been one year. One whole year since daddy had started your transformation from a college boy to a baby boy. It wasn’t easy, not for him and certainly not for you. What a long journey you two had taken. So much crying. At first from spankings and punishments, but now for wanting a change and a bottle. So many diapers. From thin white diapers to thick printed massive diapers. From holding until letting go in a diaper to not even noticing what happened down there. From having so many studying books to have so many coloring books. From having so many friends to having stuffed animals as your best friends. It wasn’t easy, but it was worth it. Now you know everything daddy tells you, it’s for your own good. If he tells you to be quiet and suck your pacifier, it’s for your own good. If he tells you to go to sleep early, it’s for your own good. If he locks all kind of adult and mature content and lets you watch just baby shows, its for you own good. If he decides who you can meet, where, when, and how, it’s for your own good. You are not arguing with him anymore, you are submissively doing as you are told. When he told you he invited his manly friends from his country club for your first anniversary, you knew it was for your good.

With a diaper, he put a foam crown on your head and told you to hold your little stuffed friends. He saw you were a bit nervous, and said “We can celebrate with my friends, and yours!” kissed your forehead, and lifted you onto the kitchen’s countertop.

Shy and timid, you waited for your party to get started. But it was okay because daddy knows what’s good for you.

———————————————— @littletigertonio knew it was for his own good.

[lilbabybren]

Cuck me when I’m at my huffiest. Cuck me when I’m at my squirmiest. Whenever I most want to act on my adult sexuality, ensure I’m stuck as an innocent, chaste baby 😳🥺🥵

[dwagonpwincess]

I love the idea of being punished... specifically for masturbating. Call it my "disgusting little habit" as you spank me for doing it. Put me in diapers put on so well I can't slip my hand down the front. Lock me in a chastity device and tell me I don't get to do my "wicked little deed" anymore. It's so f-ing hot x/////x

[jeffy2014-blog]

[mads-the-dog]

Is your partner constantly complaining that you take up too much of the bed?

Get a crib!

After a few nights curled up into an adorable little ball, they'll be begging to snuggle back up to you!

Follow me for more helpful but unethical relationship advice.

[mads-the-dog]

Dribbling

You stomp your foot on the floor as, after two dribbles, your uncoordinated hands lose track of the basketball, letting it bounce away from you, out of your control.

Sam, the athletic, blonde 20-year-old "coach" teaching the regressee basketball academy, grabs the ball as it rolls away before walking towards you with a friendly, but condescending smile.

"That was a good try, sweet pea," the attractive college student coos as they hand you the ball, "You're getting the hang of it!"

You roll your eyes and stomp your foot again. You should be embarrassed with your inability to control your emotions, but, your frustration and anger are too overwhelming for something as trivial as embarassment to creep in.

"No! M' not doin' good!" You harrumph, "Dis is too hard! Should be easy!"

The attractive young coach smiles supportively, thrusting the ball into your hand, and rubbing your arm for comfort.

"You've got this, sweetheart," he coos, as if you were an actual child throwing a tantrum, "Just keep trying!"

You take a deep breath, letting your anger subside. As it does, a blush blooms on your face as you realize how ridiculous you must have looked throwing a temper tantrum.

At 36-years-old, you should be able to do something as simple as control your emotions.

A simple physical activity like dribbling a basketball should similarly come easy for you.

You had been a Division II athlete in college, for God's sake.

But, as you looked down at yourself, you shudder.

A cute, pastel colored cotton T-shirt with a smiling, cartoon basketball on the front proudly declares you "Mommy's Little All-Star."

Your cotton athletic shorts look to be styled more for a toddler than for an adult, and so little to hand the bulging diaper hiding just beneath it.

Your high-top sneakers, while seeming normal at first, are fastened go your feet with Velcro, not laces. And every time you take a step, the put on an embarrassing light show meant to entertain a child, not an adult like you.

Your blush grows deeper as you suddenly remember the tantrum you had thrown in the shoe store in order to get Mommy to buy these ridiculous shoes.

You look around the room and shudder again, as you watch the other participants of this athletic camp toddle around.

A woman, maybe 27, dressed much like you, giggles as she waddles quickly, chasing a ball rolling away from her at a rapid pace.

A man, clearly in his mid-40s, claps his hand in excitement as he awkwardly shoots a ball, getting it through a basket that barely came to eye level on him.

In the corner, another woman lays on a changing mat, one of the college students running this camp cooing and pinching her nose as she changes yet another messy diaper.

How did you end up in this nightmare?

You're pulled away from your uncomfortable observations by the all-to-familiar feeling of the waistband of your diaper being tugged open, someone checking if you need a change.

"Just as I thought," chuckled Coach Sam from behind you, letting the waistband of your diaper and shorts snap back into place, "Someone's been doing a different type of dribbling drill, haven't they?"

You want to cover your face in embarrassment, but, before you can, Coach Sam grabs your hand.

"Well, let's go! It looks like Coach Kristin is almost done at the changing mat. And we can't have an expert dribbler like you leaking on the gym floor again, can we?"