Iâm noticing some more followers so I figured Iâd introduce myself!
To start off, this is a secondary blog. The account I follow people on is agereideas. I wanted to have an account where I post more NSFW stuff, so I made this blog!
About me and this blog
Iâm a woman in her late 20s
I am straight, but I love fantasies and scenarios about men AND women
I am a mommy/domme and love everything ABDL
I am NOT single. Any unsolicited sexual messages will result in a block. Any baby talk or unsolicited roleplay in my inbox will result in a block. I am a human being first and foremost.
I would love to have more female friends in this space (no offense to the men, you know how it is)
I feel like I almost want to be a bed wetter at this point because I have to wake up in the middle of the night basically every night to go pee and I'm so tired of not being able to sleep through the night đ
The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silver glow through the half-drawn curtains of lizzyâs bedroom. The clock on her nightstand read 2:47 AM, its dim red digits a cruel reminder of yet another night interrupted. She groaned as she rolled out of bed, her bare feet padding softly against the cool hardwood floor. The routine was exhausting: wake up, stumble to the bathroom, pee, and then attempt to fall back asleep, only to repeat the cycle in another two or three hours. Tonight, however, the frustration had reached a boiling point.
lizzy rubbed her bleary eyes as she shuffled down the hallway, her mind foggy with sleep. The air was still, the house silent except for the faint hum of the refrigerator downstairs. She paused at the bathroom door, her hand resting on the frame as she let out a sigh. Why canât I just sleep through the night? she thought, her voice a whisper in her own mind. The idea of not having to drag herself out of bed every few hours, felt like a distant dream.
And then, as if the universe had been listening, a new thought crept in, one that surprised even her. I almost wish I was a bed wetter. The words formed in her mind before she could stop them. The idea was absurd, of course. But the exhaustion was wearing her down.
lizzy shook her head, as if the physical motion could dislodge the ridiculous notion. But as she turned toward the window at the end of the hallway, something caught her eye. A streak of light tore across the night sky, a shooting star burning bright and fast. She froze, her breath catching in her throat.
The star vanished as quickly as it had appeared, leaving behind only the faintest afterimage in her vision. lizzy blinked, suddenly aware of how silly she must look, standing in the middle of the hallway in her pajamas, talking to the night sky. She shook her head again, this time with a small, tired laugh, and finally made her way to the bathroom.
lizzy woke slowly, her mind surfacing from a deep, dreamless sleep. The first thing she noticed was how rested she felt, no grogginess, no lingering exhaustion, just a quiet, unfamiliar clarity. She blinked, her eyelids heavy but not from fatigue. The room around her was bathed in soft, golden morning light, filtering through the curtains in a way that felt⊠different.
She stretched, her fingers brushing against something smooth and cool. A pacifier? She froze, her breath hitching as she rolled onto her side. The room wasnât her room, not the one she remembered, at least. The walls were painted a soothing pastel, the furniture sturdy but playful, like a nursery⊠but scaled for her adult body. The crib stood in the corner, and a changing table sat against the far wall, stocked with stacks of diapers that made her stomach twist.
And then there was the feeling. A damp, heavy warmth between her legs. She shifted slightly, her cheeks flushing as she realized: she was wearing a diaper. A soaked one.
lizzyâs heart pounded. This wasnât right. None of it was. But before she could process it further, the door creaked open. Her roommate, Sarah, stepped inside, her expression soft and knowing. She didnât knock. She didnât ask. She simply walked over, crouched down, and, without a word, began checking lizzyâs diaper.
âSuch a good sleeper,â Sarah cooed, her voice warm with approval. âYou didnât stir once. Not even a little.â
lizzyâs lips twitched. The situation was absurd, surreal, but the praise that felt real. A giggle bubbled up, unstoppable, as Sarah finished her diaper check and gave her an approving pat on the head.
lizzy couldnât help it. She giggled again, the sound bright and unguarded, even as her mind raced with questions.
âOk, Mommy will wear a pull-up to bed with you if it makes you feel less alone and nervous. But mine is going to be dry in the morning and someone elseâsâŠisnât. So I just want you to keep that in mind and try not to get too upset when it happens, okay? After all, youâre a lot littler than I am.â
Daddy loves changing you more than anything. The way you lay back and trust me completely, taping you up securely, blowing raspberries on your tummy to make you giggle.
Fully dependent on Dada. This is for life, baby girl.
Need me a little diapered gym bunny... a perfect little girl who runs off to do her little workout routine where I can watch between sets. A little eye candy. Her waistband poking out when she bends certain ways. Sometimes getting a glimpse through the legs of her shorts at the juvenile undergarment. Having her come up to me between sets to encourage me or beg for a change when I'm done with the machine I'm on...
alternatively to wettings you can hear but not see:
wettings that will eventually, inevitably be discovered, but no one else notices when it happens, leaving the wetter to just silently panic as they pee themselves.
examples:
-character A is sitting in the back seat during a car trip while B drives, and either they're too shy to ask for a bathroom break, or it takes too long to find a place to stop. A is totally silent as wetness slowly saturates the seat of their pants and a little puddle of pee wells up between their legs. it's so humiliating, and they feel so guilty, but they also literally can't stop. if B is trying to find them a bathroom, then B probably keeps saying little words of encouragement, like "don't worry, we're almost there" or "it's okay, you're gonna make it" even while A is watching the evidence that it's too late spreading across their pants.
-A and B are sitting in a dark movie theater when A starts needing to go. and, rather than getting up and interrupting the movie, A makes what ends up being the wrong choice, and stays seated. at some point, they lose a really big unexpected leak... one that basically soaks their crotch and butt all at once. A starts internally panicking, but they feel like they super can't get up now... the wet spot is too obvious, and they'd have to slide past B in order to get out, which would put the wet spot basically right in front of B and they'd know. but panic leads to bad logic... because the longer they wait, the more they wet. soon, A is slow leaking pretty consistently into the seat cushion beneath them. their pants are sopping wet, and A keeps re-wetting them, releasing more pee with each little gush. it's only a matter of time before tiny drips start to fall from their soaked seat cushion... hopefully the sound of it will give them away to just B, who can help them, before the movie ends and the lights turn on, which would reveal their accident to everyone else in the theater. maybe B finally leans over and asks (though they kind of know the answer already) "hey... did you need to go use the bathroom?" and that's when A quietly starts to break down. the un-quiet part is that they just start releasing the rest of their bladder right there, which makes a splattering sound on the floor. maybe someone sitting near them could guess that it wasn't just a spilled drink, but B works hard to get A out of there before anyone can look to see what actually happened, or who did it.
-A is a bed wetter who is trying to break the habit, and they've been having a string of dry nights lately. it's to the point where they haven't even been wearing diapers at bedtime, though the mattress is still protected. still... one morning they wake up incredibly desperate. it's so bad that they can't even get up! they have to squirm in bed, in an attempt to get it under control, trying super hard not to immediately pee themselves!! but just as they manage to sit up, B comes in to wake them. B is surprised that they're already up, and takes this as an opportunity to start chatting about what they need to do that day. as B bustles around the room, talking animatedly, A simply can't hold it anymore. A starts to quietly yet involuntarily pee the bed, feeling their PJ pants go warm while trying to look normal. wetting while asleep is one thing, but it feels a lot more embarrassing to wake up dry, and then wet the bed because they couldn't make it to the toilet. A doesn't have daytime incontinence, so there's really no excuse for this! the blanket is still covering everything, and A figures if they can just finish up, before B notices that they're literally going right now... then A can hide the fact that they basically had a genuine accident. (maybe B is none the wiser, or maybe A's nervous body language gave them away... who knows. the important thing is that A knows they're doing something they shouldn't.)
Oh, this is cute! There's something absolutely nerve-wracking about accidents that you TECHNICALLY got away with... But only for now! They're definitely going to be discovered, sooner rather than later, and then what will the wetter do?! A had better hope their friend B has better ideas than them...
The pullups for a little who can make it to a bathroom or can at least hold it long enough to pull over to the side of the road but if they fall asleep or if there's traffic they will use their pullup
Equally diapers for a little who doesn't even try to make it to a bathroom.
Little who wants to be put in pullups, messes them during the trip, has to be changed on the side of the road, and gets put in diapers for the rest of the trip and pouts about it but enjoys it
This caption was written with, is for, and features the adorable @prettymuchpottytrained. I just may have a few more captions left in the tank after all.
Anyone watching you through the baby monitor would be forgiven for thinking you were nothing more than a toddler refusing to sleep. Between the expensive baby monitor Daddy bought and the Bluey nightlight, your infantile state was impossible to miss.
Your Bluey shirt failed spectacularly to cover your overworked Stardust Nursery diaper, which drooped adorably between your legs. Your binky bobbed sporadically while you surveyed the nursery.
Nobody seeing you would ever believe you were actually an adult.
But you could hear what the baby monitor could notâthe telltale sounds of pleasure coming from Daddyâs bedroom.
âAhhh, she's so stinking cute in her widdle diapers!â Mary squealed in delight, watching the diaper-clad girl on Daddy's phone, âSheâs like a real baby with her pacifier!â
âJust wait,â Daddy said behind a smirk, knowing what's about to happen. âIt gets better. But try not to wake her up. It was hard enough putting her down for her nap and sheâs just as fussy as a toddler if it gets interrupted.â
Daddyâs friends nod conspiratorially as they go back to watching the recording on his phone while you nap down the hall, blissfully unaware that your antics are the star of the show.
Had you known the baby monitor had a camera, you might have resisted your urges.
But you didnât.
You couldnât resist the siren song of pleasure. Between Mommyâs moans and Daddyâs decisive gruntsâand your throbbing princess partsâyou were utterly helpless to control yourself.
There you were, kneeling in your crib and diaper, listening to the unmistakable sounds of pure, erotic bliss, forced to accept the truth of your new place in life.
Nobody considered you an adult anymore.
Your nursery was no longer ornamental; it was a functional room designed to handle the needs of a diaper-dependent little one.
Your diapers were no longer accessories; they were necessary. It had been so long since you used the potty that the only time you spent out of them was for baths and the few minutes a day Daddy let your skin air out.
Your clothes no longer serve to highlight your feminine curves; they were designed to make diaper changes easier for Daddy.
Your binky was no longer a âmute button;â it was a necessary tool to calm the nerves of someone too emotionally immature to be expected to self-soothe.
Naptime is no longer an occasional event; it is now a daily requirement to avoid tantrums. One missed nap meant hours of fussiness.
Daddy didnât strip away your decision-making and autonomy because he made you squirm; he did it because he no longer believes you are capable of managing yourself without a caregiver.
He sees you for who you are.
You arenât his strong, independent wife anymore; youâre his poopy pamper princess. He knows you donât need him to be a husbandâyou need Daddy. Someone to wipe the tears off your cheeks when youâre overwhelmed, to change your icky diapies, and to slide your favorite stuffy into your arms before bed.
Which is why Mommy is the one moaning in pleasureânot you.
You didn't get demoted to the nursery because you're just some silly cuckquean, getting off on being relegated to humping stuffies in a soggy diaper. He's not doing it to tease, humiliate, or titillate you.
Heâs doing it because he can no longer imagine the sweet, innocent babygirl who squeals in delight when he blows raspberries on her tummy during poopy diaper changes as a sexual being.
Youâre his baby.
His love for you is as strong as the day he married youâbut the nature of your intimate moments together has irreconcilably changed.
For him, nothing beats the slow, tender evenings with you wrapped up in his arms, staring up at him with sleepy eyes full of love, your binky bobbing slower and slower until you drift off.
Or the rainy weekends when he raids the linen closet so he can build a fort with his little one, making room for every stuffy. Or the binky kisses.
How could he possibly imagine you as an adult with sexual desires?
âWaitâŠsheâs not gonna use that stuffy to do that, right?â James gasped, watching you lay your favorite stuffy on his back.
Mommy and Daddy look at each other, trying not to laugh.
âShe does have one naughty big girl habit,â Mommy chuckled as you positioned yourself with the stuffy, âBut itâs just so stinking cute. Best part is she thinks sheâs sneaky, too.â
They watch your adorably clumsy thrusts into your favorite stuffy. Slowly at first, glancing at the door periodically. Then faster. Greedier.
Mary sighed, âI can't believe I took sex advice from her.â
âMaybe you should take a leaf from her book,â James quipped, âYou've been single for so long, maybe a stuffy would be the perfect boyfriend. Besides, you'd look so cute in one of those diapers! Wait, her little diaper crinkles as she humps are adorable!â
Daddy immediately rushed to pause the video.
âWhy'd you pause it?â
âBecause the video doesn't have sound...â
âWha-whacha wachin', Daddy?â you mumbled. You were too groggy from your nap to be embarrassed about your friends seeing your adorably frizzy hair, diaper, and binky.
âOh, just some boring video, nothing you'd enjoy, kiddo.â
Daddy slid the phone into his pocket before lifting you up and resting you on his hip.
âOh my gosh, do the stars on her diaper fade away when she's wet?â Mary asks, âSee, those stars are normal, and those ones are gone.â
Daddy crinkles your diaper playfully. âThey do! We thought they might help her with some potty training. Seeing her stars go 'bye-bye' might inspire her to stay dry, but...Well, let's just say I expect diapers to be part of her life for a long, long time.â
Knowing your diaper is on full displayâand hearing everyone casually talk about your potty training strugglesâyou hide your face in Daddy's neck, holding onto him like a koala in a hurricane.
âWhat are you doing out of bed, hmm?â Daddy cooed, bouncing you slightly to distract you from noticing his hand pulling back your diaper.
âD-Dada!â you whine at the indignity of this public diaper check.
Daddy rubs your back. âUh oh...are you Dada's little stinkerpants? Poor baby, trying to sleep in that icky yucky didi...â
You peel yourself from Dada's neck to give him your devastating puppy-dog eyes.
âC'mon, baby, let's get you out of that poopy diapie,â Daddy says, heading towards your nursery.
As you're carried off you catch something about a stuffy and laughter.
âWuh funny bou' sthuffie, Dada?â you ask as you're gently deposited onto the changing table.
Daddy tickles your tummy. âOh, they can't get over how much you love your stuffies, that's all.â
For a split-second, a horrible dread crept into your mindâdo they know? Why did Daddy say "love" like that? Did Daddy hear when you...played with Dijon?
But the thought is forgotten the moment cold air rushes into your princess parts as Daddy peels back your diaper.
The only thing that mattered was Daddy putting you in a fresh, warm diaper.
Oh my princess. You just keep proving to me time and time again how you desperately need diapers. Look at you messing your diaper. I think potty privileges are hearby revoked for good. You'll just have to get used to messing your diapers. Cry all you want, Princess, I've made my decision and it's final.
