Pretty Pretty Paci 3

30s / USA All stories are fantasies for consenting adults. Shut up and poop.

[prettyprettypaci3]

Click below for my archive.

Therapy 💕

You're a young adult living at home with your cruel step-mother and step-sisters, who keep you diapered and humiliated. Your therapist thinks you should accept that this is what you were meant to be.

Part 1 - Quiet Time

Part 2 - The Video

Part 3 - Mr. Kazoo

Part 4 - Naptime

Part 5 - Punished

Part 6 - Butterflies

Part 7 and Epilogue

Squire 👑

You're the child of a noble family who has been kidnapped to serve as a diapered squire for a fearsome queen. But who really is the queen, and who is this other pretty squire who seems intent on breaking you?

Part 1 - Kidnapped

Part 2 - Midnight Visitor

Part 3 - The Feeding

Part 4 - Her Majesty

Part 5 - Escape

Part 6 - The Hunt

Part 7 and Epilogue

Púpi 🎒

You're studying abroad in a mysterious country where you don't understand the language. It makes you feel like a helpless baby, and the local sorority girls are intent on treating you like one.

Part 1 - Levronia

Part 2 - Swaddled

Part 3 - Lessons

Part 4 - Moo

Part 5 - Exam

Part 6 - The Party

dolly.exe ⚠️

After downloading some malware, you've accidentally given a mysterious hacker control over your whole life. You'd better do, say, and wear whatever they want...or else.

Part 1 - Caught

Part 2 - Shopping Spree

Part 3 - Diapered

Drool 🍼

You've visited a clinic to get help for an irritating oral tic. The device you've been fitted with looks oddly like a pacifier, and these nurses seem to have even more humiliating plans for you.

Part 1 - Pacified

Part 2 - Pilled

Part 3 - Diapered

Part 4 - Fed

Part 5 - Forever

[prettyprettypaci3]

"I needed to mess. I did a number two. I made a stinky. I had a dirty dia — "

Poop. You pooped your diaper. You squatted down and filled your diaper with warm, stinking poop. You're wearing a diaper full of poop. You're poopy. A poop factory. A pamper pooper. You pooped yourself.

You don't get to sugarcoat it. Not with me. Say it nice and loud.

You pooped.

[prettyprettypaci3]

I'm dead serious about this. This is a movement. This is our flag.

A mess is when you spill a drink or leave clothes on the floor. That isn't what happened in your diaper. It wasn't that innocent.

YOU. 👏 POOPED. 👏 YOUR. 👏 SELF. 👏

[prettyprettypaci3]

"I needed to mess. I did a number two. I made a stinky. I had a dirty dia — "

Poop. You pooped your diaper. You squatted down and filled your diaper with warm, stinking poop. You're wearing a diaper full of poop. You're poopy. A poop factory. A pamper pooper. You pooped yourself.

You don't get to sugarcoat it. Not with me. Say it nice and loud.

You pooped.

[prettyprettypaci3]

Don't Babyproof, Babyprepare

In a household with two adults, it isn't practical that the caregiver is going to do 100% of the chores while the diapered dummy just rolls around peeing themselves all day.

But the solution doesn't have to be an ON/OFF switch where your partner fully leaves their humiliating, imposed childhood in order to handle a few responsibilities. You just need to make changes at home to accomodate someone who's always crawling, drooling, and filling their pamps. It's important that they feel pathetic and small even when they're contributing.

🥫 A mini fridge and low cabinet stocked with all the essentials for making dinner. Get a coffee table, toaster oven, and hot plate so they can prep your meals without ever getting off their knees.

☎️ An old Sesame Street phone with a landline, along with paper and crayons. Now they can make appointments and work calls without you giving them access to their grown-up cell phone!

🛒 Get them a little plastic shopping cart with a cover so they can safely push things around (e.g. laundry, groceries) without standing up or using their muscles.

🧽 You get a proper vacuum cleaner...they get a hand vac. You get a broom...they get a feather duster. You get a mop...they get a sponge. It may take them longer to finish a room, but that's what they get for letting you turn them into a drooling toddler.

👐 Anything they need — toothbrushes, towels, cutlery, clean bibs — should be stored close to the floor, within easy reach. As a funny joke, you can set no-no things like candy, alcohol, or the keys to their locking diaper cover out on tables or countertops. Since they're not allowed to stand, they can't reach these things anyway!

[prettyprettypaci3]

There's something about bedwetters. 🤤

In theory, being a pantswetter should be more embarrassing than bedwetting. You're awake and fully conscious and you still can't hold your tinkles? You're so pathetic that you need to wear pull-ups or diapers everywhere you go? But then, if you're in 24/7 padding, it becomes normalized. You learn to manage your condition and it stops making you blush once you realize no one is whispering about you. If you have partners, there's no secret to hide after the first encounter. They already know, and they've either accepted you or rejected you.

But being a bedwetter. You have a transition period every night where you kiss your adulthood goodbye and wrap yourself up in childish padding, because your dumb-dumb sleepy brain can't help but go potty all over the mattress. You can't let yourself fall asleep after having adult fun with someone, because you know you'll both wake up in a wet bed; it's the nightmare scenario in the back of your mind. Bedtime diapering may become routine, but not exactly normal. Every sunset is a reminder that it's time to stop playing grown-up and put on your pampers. There's no escape.

Yes, give me bedwetters. 🥰

[prettyprettypaci3]

Wait

You've broken your brain so that you literally cannot orgasm if you're not wearing a diaper.

But you can't put them on yourself. And you can't ask for them verbally.

When you want to hump, you have to grab a fresh diaper from your basket, come find me, and hold the crinkly square out in front of you. Silently and politely. Not one word.

I make you wait like that without acknowledging you, your face growing redder and hotter as the minutes tick by. I often make you wait so long that you'll give up and sheepishly patter away to put the diaper back, feeling like a fool.

But every once in a while, when I'm feeling generous, I'll finally turn my head to look at you, standing nervously with a fluffy white diaper in your hands. It's so fun to see your pupils dilate. To hear your barely suppressed moan as I grin and rise slowly to my feet.

"Okay. Lie down on the floor."

[prettyprettypaci3]

About Last Night... 🌙

Imagine moving into your own place for the first time in your life. You go to bed in your normal clothes, but in the morning, you're shocked to wake up wearing a fluffy white diaper and childish onesie, with a giant pacifier in your mouth.

You scramble out of bed in a wild panic. Your doors and windows are locked. There's nobody here but you. You call the police, but are too embarrassed to explain what happened, and they shrug off your vague complaint as the jitters of a young adult who's scared to live alone.

The same thing happens the next night: when your eyes open, you can feel the bulky crinkle between your legs and the onesie holding your diaper snug against your crotch. The paci nipple is planted firmly between your lips.

You throw the clothes away. You get the locks changed. You set up a camera in your room at night, but there's always something wrong with the feed. You look into moving, but you can't afford to break your lease.

Again and again, every morning, you're diapered, onesied, and pacified. You feel violated. You lie awake for hours each night, waiting for something to happen, but sleep always takes you eventually.

After a few months, you stop fighting it. You're too exhausted to be scared anymore. You even go to bed wearing the onesie already, since you're sick of replacing your normal bedclothes that always disappear by morning.

It's just something that happens to you.

[prettyprettypaci3]

Surprise Inspection 📋

Knock knock! Just kidding, I took the door off your nursery weeks ago. Assume the position.

Hmmm, it took you almost 3 seconds to pick yourself up off the floor. Your coloring book isn't that important, honey. This is important. That's a demerit. ❌️

Hands clasped together sweetly. Good. ✅️

Toes turned in towards each other. Very cute. ✅️

Paci was already in. Glad to see it this time. ✅️

That soggy diaper is poking out proudly! Don't flinch. SMACK! And again. SMACK! You stopped smiling with your eyes. You always lose focus on the second spank. Demerit. ❌️

What's this? Barely any drool on your bib? Are you still swallowing your spit when I'm not around? Unacceptable. That's a BIG demerit. ❌️❌️❌️

These seem like little things, but your rules are important, honey. It's not just about bedtimes and diaper changes, it's about how you hold your body. How you react emotionally. How you speak. Anyone can follow the big rules. It's the little rules that will turn you into the humiliated diaper dumper I want you to be.

I'll give you a positive mark because you're starting to cry, and crying is encouraged when you disappoint me. ✅️ We've still got a lot of work to do, though.

Come pick out your paddle.

(Inspired by a chat with @rosemarytraitor)

[prettyprettypaci3]

Everybody's Plaything 📸

You created a secret Tumblr to find some new ideas for playtime. You've finally started to accept the diapered life I imposed on you, and you've gotten curious about how deep my plans could go.

You're just a lurker. No PFP, no reblogs. Just liking a post here and there to save for later.

And then you stumble upon your blog. Well, no. Not your blog. My blog.

Starring you.

You hadn't noticed right away — you just thought, "oh, I have that same onesie." But then you recognize our carpet. Our furniture. Hot tears fill your eyes as you scroll. There's a picture of you smiling sheepishly in your Easter bonnet. A rancid dirty diaper shot from the day I gave you laxatives. Another of you posing shyly next to your full diaper pail, blushing face unblurred. Do you dare to read the comments? Oh god, the comments...

And then you see the worst of it: That new pacifier clip I gave you? Purchased by an eager follower. The disgusting baby food I made you eat last week? Voted on in a poll. The time I locked you in the backyard wearing nothing but a diaper and bib? Suggested in an anonymous ask (I had replied with the GIF of you pawing at the screen door begging me to let you back in).

You thought your diapered life was our dirty little secret. As it turns out...

You've been everybody's plaything all along.

[prettyprettypaci3]

She insists she's a switch, so I force her to bully her reflection and call herself Girl Daddy while I grin from the cuck chair.

[cookie-goodboy]

Mommy's Pastel Pink Princess, dressed in Frills, Ruffles and Bows; wearing the most destroyed, stained, filthy, rancid diaper as she plays.

She begs mommy not to change her yet because she isn't *quite* done with her tea party.

Her stuffy guests don't seem to mind.

[prettyprettypaci3]

She refills each teacup slowly and purposefully, glancing back at Mommy between pours. It's become a game now — how long can the princess drag this out before she herself is dragged to a changing table in tears?

She asks Ollie Elephant to tell the group one of his famous stories, and nods enthusiastically during the long silence that follows. Her muscles tense. Her heart rate quickens. She breathes heavier, taking in more of her own foul stench.

Because she can feel Mommy's eyes on the back of her pretty ribboned head, losing patience. They both know the meltdown is imminent. The pinched ear, the wailing, and then the harness and straps.

Any minute. Any minute now. 🫖

[prettyprettypaci3]

Weighing your dirty diapers on a scale that dispenses tickets like a Skee-Ball machine. The more you fill up your pampers with pee and poop for me, the more tickets you win!

Then exchange your tickets for fabulous prizes! Burn them daily on little treats or save them up for a big reward!

🎟 5: Eat a spoonful of sugar after your evening baby mush.

🎟 10: Pick out the onesie I'll change you into when you get home from work.

🎟 20: Watch a cartoon during tummy time instead of staring at the floor.

🎟 50: Halve the number of spankings you get for being such a brat.

🎟 100: No spiked booties tonight! You can waddle instead of crawl!

🎟 500: Five minutes of authorized humping with your stuffie.

🎟 1000: Wear pull-ups instead of diapers for the whole day and night!

🎟 5000: I delete one blackmail photo on my phone.

🎟 10000: I delete one blackmail photo on my phone without secretly taking another one.

🎟 100000000: You did it! You're free! You peed and pooped yourself so much that you get to be grown-up again! Thanks for playing!

[prettyprettypaci3]

The Little Things

❤️ The waistband of a diaper poking casually out of your shorts.

❤️ Seeing your paci in your mouth without me telling you to put it in.

❤️ Little fuzzy ankle socks.

❤️ A smudge of baby powder on your tummy.

❤️ Not taking your bib off after lunch because you forgot you were wearing it.

❤️ Hearing you tinkle in your pampers when the house is quiet.

❤️ Slow dancing with my hand on your padded butt.

❤️ "Can I maybe...stay in my soggy diaper...just a little bit longer?"

❤️ Hearing the rhythmic crinkle of your humping from behind a closed door.

❤️ You not stopping when I open the door.

[prettyprettypaci3]

⛔️ Putting you back in diapers and ordering you to use them.

✅️ Putting you back in diapers and ordering you NOT to use them.

You heard me right. If I see one drop of pee in the padding of your diaper, you will be punished severely. You get 5 minutes on the toilet between your daily changes. Then it's back in dry pampers for 6 more hours.

Your life is about to become a never-ending game of holding it... 🙁 holding it... 😖 holding it... 😢

See, if I just forced you to piss yourself, you would resent your diapers. They would be nothing more than a punishment. A humiliating prison.

But now you wish you had the privilege of pissing yourself. Your body aches to use your diapers. They're your waiting savior. Your secret dream.

And the day I finally give you permission to wet your diapers like a pathetic little toddler, you will fall to your knees, with tears in your eyes.

And you will thank me.

[prettyprettypaci3]

Gaslighting you into thinking the diapers were your fantasy.

"Babe, you were talking in your sleep again. Why do you keep saying 'I need a diaper, I need a diaper' over and over again? Were you having a weird dream?"

"It happened again. You were grabbing my arm and begging me to put a diaper on you. No, I didn't record it, I was half asleep! What is going on in that head of yours?"

"I'm starting to get concerned, babe. I know you said the idea of wearing a diaper repulses you, but it seems to be all you think about at night. Are you sure you're not repressing something? Do you think you should see a doctor?"

"Look, I believe you; it's just that I can't sleep with all your moaning about diapers. I'm just curious what would happen if you were actually wearing one at night. Maybe it would help?"

"I'm sorry, but I want you to try wearing one. Just for tonight. There seems to be some part of you that really needs this."

"You slept like a rock. No more sleep talking, and you were smiling every time I looked at you. Honestly, you seemed kind of blissful. And I slept better without all the begging in my ear! Would you wear another one tonight? For me?"

"It makes such a difference, babe. I'm not sure either of us can go back to before you wore diapers. I know ten cases seems like a lot, but it'll pay off in the long run. Awww, please don't cry! I truly believe you're getting what you've always wanted."

[diapereddoe]

I heard you miss the face stuff

[prettyprettypaci3]

In a bizarre way, you would have preferred if I dressed you in a onesie and a bonnet and a pair of soft booties. Sure, you would feel humiliated, but it would be like wearing a costume. Playing a role. You could look at your ridiculous outfit in the mirror and say, "this is make-believe. That's not the real me."

But after I put you back in diapers, I chose your outfit for date night: a sexy little black dress, cute heels, an expensive bra. You did your hair and makeup perfectly, like you would have in your clubbing days. If not for the fat, disgusting diaper peeking out from under your flirty tiered skirt, you would have felt confident and desirable, just like the night we met.

But then, before our candelight dinner, I clipped the big yellow pacifier to your shoulder strap. I fastened the silicone scoop bib around your neck and applied the numbing gel to your tongue and lips.

Because this is so much more delicious to me: a woman in her prime, desperate to feel sexy, being forced to nurse red wine from a baby bottle and drool truffle pasta into the scoop of her bib. You try to cross your legs coquettishly, but the diaper full of piss forces you to splay them. You cringe with shame at my amused smile, knowing that no matter how much effort you make, no matter what clothes you wear, there's no way I'll see you as a grown woman — ever again.

[prettyprettypaci3]

Two brats, one on top of the other, lying flat, face to face.

Wrists and ankles bound to each other's, pressed tight together, legs spread wide.

Snugly wrapped up in a single XXXL diaper that they'll be sharing for the night.