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[johnbee4]

The family chat

Update: he’s officially enrolled in the Huggies product testing program! That means free diapers for three months, and all I have to do in return is submit his changing logs and photographic examples of the testing units.

[destinedfordiapers]

This Is The Day

This caption is for, and features, the spectacularly adorable @contemporarybaby. She even picked the song! Hope you enjoy it!

Moments like these have a frustrating habit of resisting any attempts to slow them down.

But I’ll do my best anyway.

I mean, just look how unfathomably adorable my little Otterpop looks right now.

Her rosy red, blushy cheekies. The silly, futile way she fidgets with her dress to make sure nobody can see the diaper she can’t help filling. That timid little waddle behind Daddy.

Can you believe she’s actually 25?

Not that it matters. She doesn’t have much in common with twenty-somethings anymore.

Most twenty-somethings are starting their careers, enjoying their first taste of adult money, and thinking about settling down and getting married.

Otterpop is not like most twenty-somethings—but I’m sure that’s obvious by now. Which is why this moment is so special for us.

This is Otterpop’s first public outing as my little.

So, of course, I have something special planned for her. After all, she deserves it. She did give up her adulthood, autonomy, and potty training for a lifetime of diapers, pacifiers, and constant adult supervision after all!

And what better place for her to learn her new place in life than her favorite public library?

Back when she was a big girl, she spent hours and hours here. She must have made it through the entire art history section and a respectable way through the philosophy section.

Pity she’ll never finish—silly girls in diapers don’t need to worry their pretty little heads about the mysteries of life.

Dr. Seuss is the closest she’ll ever get to academic literature ever again.

And before you tell me I’m being mean, ask yourself if it’s more appropriate for someone in a loaded pamper to be pondering Hegelian dialectics or wondering if Sam-I-am will ever convince his friend to eat green eggs and ham?

That’s what I thought.

Luckily for me, I went to college with two of the librarians. And they were all too happy to help put together a little…celebration for my Otterpop—though they knew her by an entirely different name.

And how could they not like her, anyway? She was always friendly, returned her books on time, and was one of the few people who appreciated books in an increasingly digital age.

I sense Otterpop’s nerves as we approach the doors to the library. Poor baby. I can’t say I blame her.

Even though this is what she’s always wanted—she’s right where she belongs—it doesn’t mean it’s easy for her. She may be my little, but she’s never experienced what that entails outside of the safety of our home.

I pull her into a hug, stroking her hair. “I’m so proud of you, Otterpop! You know that, right? You’re the bravest little popsicle I know.”

“M-mhm, uh huh, D-Daddy,” she stutters nervously.

“It’s okay to be nervous, little one. But remember, Daddy is right here with you. I’ll never let anything bad happen to my special little lady.”

Before she answers, I try to surreptitiously check her diaper. She can be quite the tinkle fountain when she’s nervous.

“H-hey, Daddy!!” she squeals.

So much for being slick.

“Sorry, kiddo, just checking to make sure you’re not about to leak! That wouldn’t any fun, would it?”

She huffs. “But, wha-what if someone sees?”

“Then they’ll see a concerned Daddy checking his little one’s diaper! Babies like you get their diaper checked in public all the time; it’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“Hmpff.”

I boop her nose playfully. “Always Daddy’s pouty princess. Ready to go inside, Otterpop?”

She nods tentatively, grabbing my hand and holding it as if she’d fly away if she let go.

“Here we go!”

We walk into the library she’s so familiar with. Yet, unlike before, she’s not the confident, well-read big girl she used to be.

I can’t help but smile—she looks exactly like a nervous toddler being dropped off on their first day at daycare.

The sweet lady at the front desk shoots me a knowing smile.

“See, this isn’t so bad, huh, Otterpop?”

“Nuh uh,” she says with a bit more confidence. She instinctively pulls me in the direction of her favorite section.

“Sweetie, where do you think you’re going?”

She looks at me, puzzled as if I asked a ridiculous question.

“That area is for adults, not silly little Otterpops. Let’s find some more age-appropriate books for you, hmm?”

Oh no. That face only means one thing.

If I know anything about my little Otterpop, it’s that she’s usually extremely well behaved. But there is one sign—the way her eyebrows furrow like that—that is a clear sign of trouble.

She huffs and puffs, foot stomping harder and harder. Tears are welling in her eyes. She’s building up steam to a full-blown tantrum. I need to act fast.

“Daddy it’s not fair!! Not a st-stupid baby!!”

I try to pull her towards me, to snuff out the tantrum with a hug—a tried and true tactic. But the moment I reach out she steps backwards.

Far too fast for her own good.

I watch as my poor Otterpop falls down, straight on her thankfully soggy diaper, which squelches loudly as she lands.

The tears are immediate. I get down to her level as fast as I can, holding her in my arms.

“Shh shhh shh, it’s okay baby, Daddy’s here, I got you.”

A whirlwind of emotions are swirling in her eyes. A perfect storm of her being littler than ever, but still not having fully let go of her former big girl self.

I wipe the tears from her eyes, rocking her in my arms while her breathing steadily slows.

I would have preferred to avoid all this, but it could have been far worse. After a minute or two, she’s calm enough to talk.

“S-sorry, Daddy,” she whimpers.

“It’s okay, babygirl. Those were some big feelings, huh?”

“Mhm,” she sniffles.

“Can you stand up for me, little one?”

“Mhm.”

“There’s my girl!”

As I help her up, I see a trace of a smile on her lips.

Before I could say anything else, we hear footsteps approaching.

“Well, hello, little one,” my friend, Janet, beamed, “So good to see you again. We’ve missed our favorite bookworm!”

Otterpop could only manage a barely audible “hi.”

“She’s still a little shy,” I say, rubbing her back, “But I know she’s excited to be back here.”

Janet winks at her. “That’s okay, honey. We have a special treat set up to celebrate your big day. Would you like to see it?”

“O-okay, Miss Janet.”

Otterpop hesitates as Janet motions for her to follow, realizing Janet is heading towards the children’s section.

“What’s wrong, honey?” I ask.

“I…but, Daddy, it’s the... the kids' area.”

She’s just so stinking cute, I fight back a smile. “But Otterpop, that’s what you are!”

“Nuh uh!”

“No? Sweetie, what are you wearing right now?”

“Dress.”

“No, silly, under the dress.”

“Hmpff. A diaper.”

“Good girl, that’s right! And what do you call me?”

“Daddy…”

“Very good, such a smartie. Now, do you think a silly thing in a diaper with her Daddy belongs in the kids’ area or the adult area?”

She sticks out her tongue.

“Silly girl. Come on, we don’t want to keep Janet waiting.”

“Kay, Daddy,” she huffs.

We only make it a few steps before she stops again, her diaper crinkling loudly with each step in the quiet library.

Janet fails to fight back a smile, clearly overwhelmed at how adorable the crinkles are.

I pat Otterpop’s diapered tush. “You’re okay, nobody can hear your diaper, honey,” I lie.

Even still, her walk becomes more of a waddle as she follows Janet, doing her best to mitigate the crinkle symphony that accompanies each step.

We finally make it to the kids’ area. It’s even better than I could have ever imagined.

In the corner is a reading nook, complete with blankets and pillows, looking cozy and comfortable. A poofy couch sits next to it, inviting us to sink in and read all day. And in the center is a table with a neatly wrapped present sitting on top.

“We couldn’t help ourselves,” Abigail, my other friend, says, “Nothing but the best for you, dear.”

“It’s perfect,” I answer, “Thank you both for this, you have no idea how much we appreciate it.”

“Don’t mention it,” Janet says, “Oh, and we installed a changing table big enough for your sweet little one in the family bathroom in case she needs her diaper changed.”

Otterpop’s face flushed a deep crimson.

“There is one more thing,” Abigail says, “We got you a present, sweetie. Would you like to open it?”

“Y-yes, please.”

Abigail motions to the table for Otterpop. She opens it excitedly but looks confused.

“A library card? B-but I have one, Miss Abigail.”

“Well, this one is special! We made it just for you.”

I didn’t think it was possible, but her face reached deeper levels of crimson than before.

“What’s it say, Otterpop?”

“I-it says…‘Children’s Books Only.’”

“Awww, how nice of them! Can you say thank you, to the nice ladies?”

“Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome, dear. We wanted to show you we accept you just the way you are! And ensure you don’t get into trouble sneaking big kid books.” Janet winks at me.

“Well,” Abigail says, “We’ll leave you two alone so you can enjoy some time together.”

“Thank you both,” I say as they walk away.

Otterpop takes the area in, eying the reading nook.

“I got us a special book for us to read, honey. Wanna read it with me?”

“Yes, please,” she answers, looking excited for the first time.

I tickle her sides. “There’s my bubbly girl!”

“Daddy!”

I reach into her diaper bag and pull out her favorite binky, sliding the nipple into her mouth.

“Bu-bu Dada! Wha if people thee?” she lisps.

I wrap her in a big hug, staring into her vulnerable puppy dog eyes.

“You don’t need to worry about that anymore, okay? You’re my little Otterpop. It’s okay to be little. No more big girl worries. This is where you belong. Right here. I promise I’ll always be here for you. You just be my happy, bubbly babygirl. Let Daddy take care of the rest.”

The tension fades completely from her body as her paci bobs in her mouth. “Pwomith, Dada?”

“Pinky promise, honey.”

“Yay!” she squeals, crinkling wildly as she runs to the reading nook, “C’mon, Dada!”

I grab the book from her bag and head over to my excited little Otterpop.

This is everything I ever wanted.

Seeing her happiness, completely unbothered by being so openly little in public, is the best gift she could ever give me. She can finally be herself.

I squeeze into the reading nook, adjusting her in my lap. I can smell her no-tears baby shampoo and baby powder. Her diaper crinkles as she gets comfortable.

“Want to see the book I chose, sweetie?”

“Yeth pweath!”

I put the book in front of her, letting her hold it.

“Can you read the title?”

“Mhm! It thays ‘Wif Your Paw in Mine’!”

“Good job! And what are those animals, kiddo?”

“Odderth, Dada!”

“That’s right, baby, just like you!”

“Hehehe, buh Dada, ithn’t Odderpop a popthicle?”

“Maybe it’s both, sweetie!”

We spent the next twenty minutes reading the story, my sweet little Otterpop giggling along with the story, completely lost in littlespace.

So lost she doesn’t even notice her body tensing up. Or hear the grumbly, bubbly little toots escaping her diaper. Or feel her diaper filling up with stinkies. Or even smell the unmistakable scent of a dirty diaper.

No more big girl left. Just my sweet little Otterpop.

I kiss the top of her head, wishing I could stay in this moment forever.

We can test out that new changing table after we finish the story.

How could I possibly interrupt a moment this special?

[destinedfordiapers]

Time To Pretend

It’s a scene I’ve witnessed countless times.

But something is different.

Your stunned silence and blushy cheeks prove it. So does the way your eyes darted down to your diaper, as if you needed visual confirmation that the sogginess spreading through your diaper wasn’t in your head.

You didn’t mean to fill your diaper.

There is no hiding the truth: you aren’t pretending to be a diaper girl anymore.

You are a diaper girl.

This revelation changes everything—and nothing.

Your life will look the same, sure. You’ll have the same rules, the same routine, the same everything.

But there will be one major change.

We’re not pretending anymore.

For so long, you allowed yourself to believe this was all a game that we chose to play. You weren’t actually a silly diaper girl!

No, you were an adult who just got off to the idea of it all. Of pretending you needed diapers. It was hot because it felt real, but never was.

Well, it’s real now.

You’re everything you pretended to be. A silly, helpless diaper girl.

You’re back in diapers for good.

It’s not a choice. There is no more “big girl” AND “diaper girl.” No more flittering between two worlds. You don’t get to comfort yourself that your diapers are a kinky accessory.

Diapers aren’t kinky anymore—they’re a necessary and practical solution for those who can't control themselves.

I’m sure it will be a much easier transition for me. My life won’t change much. I mean, it makes no difference to me whether you choose to fill your diaper or not—I’ll still wipe your tushie clean.

You’re the one who’s going to have to accept she’s no longer potty trained. Diapers are a permanent part of your life. You’re just a diaper girl, whether it’s hot or not.

I remember how squirmy it made you when I decided you were no longer allowed to cover your diaper at home. It drove you wild having your “shame” on full display.

Will it still be squirmy for you, knowing it’s a practical reality of your life?

I hope so! But it doesn’t really matter.

Because from now on, I won’t be doing it to make you blush—I’ll do it because I need to know if you’re about to leak. To make my life easier.

Now that you’re back in diapers, my primary concern is being the best caregiver I can be for my babygirl.

Because that’s what you need.

I won't slide my finger into your diaper to make you blush; I’ll do it because you need constant diaper checks to prevent leaks.

I won't lay you on the changing table because it makes you squirmy; you’ll be there because your diaper needs to be changed.

I won’t carry your diaper bag with me everywhere we go because it’s fashionable; I’ll do it because I’ll need to change your diaper anywhere—whether it’s a party, bar, or the grocery store.

And don’t think you’ll keep any big girl privileges, sweetie.

Your bedtime isn’t for fun anymore; it’s because after a long day of caring for my diaper-dependent buttercup, I need some alone time.

And of course, all the silly nicknames won’t change—because how else would I speak to someone who is back in diapers?

Are you starting to understand?

You’re an authentic diaper girl now. You get all the privileges of someone hopelessly trapped in diapers.

And you don’t even have to pretend!

[destinedfordiapers]

Young, Wild, and Free

Loving, carefree, spontaneous. She’s the whole package.

Every day with her is an adventure.

When you’re with her it’s like the rest of the world fades away. Lost in her beautiful chaos. Like none of the rules matter.

You’re never as alive—as free—as these special moments with her. When nothing matters but her radiant smile.

Whether it’s dancing like nobody is watching in the middle of a busy park, getting lost in the back alleys of Madrid, or even building ridiculous blanket forts at home, you’re hopelessly addicted to her joie de vivre.

There’s no such thing as a bad day with her. Two years into your relationship and you’re as hopelessly addicted to her smile as the day you met.

She’s everything you could ever ask for.

There’s only one problem: she loves you just the way you are.

For most people, that’s hitting the jackpot. A beautiful woman who loves you for who you are?

If only you were like most people.

Most people aren’t doomed to a life in diapers, hopelessly destined to inevitably fill each one up.

Most people aren’t still virgins at 25, unable to convince anyone your diapers render you anything but cute.

To the outside world, you’re the perfect couple. Undeniable chemistry, matching humor, and always touching each other.

And they’re not wrong—you do have all that and more. A deep, loving connection that most people only read about in romance novels.

But unlike most people, you’ll never have sex with the love of your life.

And it’s not because she gets off on denying you. It’s not because she doesn’t love you. It’s not even because she doesn’t find you attractive.

She’s told you a thousand times after all your desperate, silly whining.

“Honeybun, you got the greatest gift in the world! Your diapies have kept you pure and innocent, uncorrupted by icky sex! I love you because of your childlike wonder! Why would I take the best part of you for a few minutes of bliss?”

Nothing you say makes the slightest but of difference. She has no interest in taking your virginity.

No interest in seeing the irony that she’s had, and still has plenty of sexual partners—while you jealously listen in the next room—yet still has the same attitude as you.

You are her special boy.

And that’s all that matters to her. The closest you get to sex is when she energetically wipes you clean during diaper changes.

She’s perfectly fine ignoring your little diaper tent after a long make out session. Kissing is somehow okay—but anything else would ruin who you are apparently.

But you’re still hopelessly, irrevocably in love with her.

Nothing could ever change that. She’s the woman of your dreams. Not even a lifetime of imagining what it would be like to be with her can change that.

As long as you get to spend your time with her, you’re okay with waiting until she’s asleep so you can slide a pillow under you and quietly hump your soggy diaper.

Your quiet crinkles an ode to the woman you’ll never be with—but can’t live without.

Which is why you’re not faking your smile as you spin and dance with her in the middle of a busy park.

You have everything you ever wanted.

Almost.

[destinedfordiapers]

Six Feet Under The Stars

Her calm, composed smile clashes violently with your tearful, snot-filled face. A picture-perfect snapshot of the ever-widening difference between the two of you.

“Sweetie, even the best of us can get overwhelmed by big feelings, but you can’t run off and pout all day. Will you at least let Mommy change that stinky diaper?”

Every part of you wants to yell and scream, yet her presence soothes you more than you’ll ever admit.

And after the show you just put on for your friends, you needed it.

It would’ve been one thing for everyone to find out you’re still in diapers. Wildly embarrassing, sure, but vastly preferable to this.

You didn’t just prove you need your diapers—you proved to the world you need your Mommy.

There is no coming back from this.

The worst part is it was entirely your fault. Mommy made sure nobody would notice your diaper—even letting you wear your big boy clothes to the picnic.

But you were too proud to ask her to take you to the potty when you felt your tummy rumble. Too confident in your dwindling ability to hold it.

And far too little to maturely handle what happened next.

It was already too late when you shot up and ran—well, waddled—to Mommy to take you to the bathroom. The only thing you managed to accomplish was drawing everyone’s attention onto you.

You did your best to poop your diaper in dignity. If it had to happen, you’d at least do it like a man. With your head held high.

It did not go according to plan.

Turns out it’s impossible to look like a man when you’re squatting down, hands in itty bitty fists, doing the thousand yard stare.

Especially when a stream of bubbly toots announces what everyone already knew.

But when you grunted and filled your diaper with your shameful mush, there was only one possible outcome.

Unlike you, Mommy didn’t seem to mind the exasperated looks of all your friends. She casually sauntered over to you, her smile never wavering, and put her hand on your shoulder.

“Ut oh, is my little honey bunny making pushies for Mommy?”

It was too much. Mommy promised she wouldn’t “mommy” you in front of everyone! “No!!! I didn’t poopoo!” you squealed, stomping your foot, “She’s lying!”

To your dismay, nobody seemed convinced.

Had you not been in the midst of a poopy pamper meltdown, you’d have realized your infantile denial only served to make you look even more ridiculous.

But it didn’t matter. You were too far gone.

You didn’t give Mommy a chance to respond. Yelling and screaming gibberish as you waddled away, settling on a patch of grass to plop yourself on.

For the next five minutes, your friends watched in utter shock as you sat in your poopy diaper, ranting and raving about “not being a baby” and that you’re a “big boy!”

Needless to say, you were in no position to send Mommy away.

Not when you needed her most.

“C’mon, baby. You’ll feel much better after Mommy wipes that icky tushy. What do you say?”

You look deep into her eyes, finding no trace of anger or derision. Even after your very public tantrum. Only love.

“O-okay, Mommy. Bu-bu what about t-them?” you stutter pointing to your friends.

“Leave that to Mommy, hun. You trust Mommy to make everything all better don’t you?” she asks, booping your nose.

A weak, teary smile appears on your face.

“There’s my happy boy!! Now let’s get you changed, stinker.”

By the time Mommy had you laying in the trunk, pants down at your ankles, poopy diaper exposed to the parking lot, you completely forgot about your friends. Forgot that you’ll have to face everyone as the little you just proved yourself to be.

Mommy was there to make everything better.

What more could you ask for?

[destinedfordiapers]

The Sound of Silence

The silence is so delicious I want seconds. Maybe thirds. Delicious, beautiful silence.

She was so confident. Loudly denying she would need her diaper. That I was just being dramatic.

As if she had any control left.

It was too easy. So easy I almost feel bad that she’ll be trapped in diapers for the rest of her life.

Almost.

She may whine and complain, but deep down she knows she’s a diaper girl. She knows her life is better when she’s wrapped in her thick, thirsty diapees, begging me to change her.

The potty is for grown ups, not her.

And she is not a grown up. She never was, no matter how many times she says she is—or was. Grown ups don’t fill their diapers with pushies hours after screaming she could hold it.

Grown ups don’t submit so meekly to diaper checks, dutifully pulling their pants down so Daddy can inspect their diaper. And grown ups definitely don’t fill their diaper with stinkies as often as her!

“Uh oh, looks like my little peanut’s diapee is mushy! What is my precious buttercup hiding in there?”

There it is. That silence. That beautiful, tasty silence. It turns my legs to jelly. It’s unfathomably cute.

The only thing that would make it better would be getting to see the utter defeat on her face. The humiliation. The shame. To see her realize she truly is the diaper girl I molded her into.

But I’ll settle for watching her squirm on the changing table. She’s always so cute when I unwrap the present she left for me in her diaper, as the smell dominates the room, proof of who she is.

Daddy's diaper girl.

[ayu-stuff]

Toddlers are loud

What are you looking at, little girl???? Do you need something?? Aww, you do??? You look so silly standing there, you know?

Why are you whispering?? I think your Mommy was very clear with the rules you are to follow while I'm babysitting you in the pool...

No bikini top, just a big, poofy swim diaper.

No covering your stupid prepubescent titties. Free the nipple, and all that!

No spitting your cute little paci, of course!

No entering the water without my supervision and without your wonderfully cute Dora floaties.

No sitting on any hammock or lying on any towel, babies belong on the grass. You'll look sooo cute all covered in mud :).

No spreading the suncream like big girls do. You are to look stupid all covered in white, so you don't get sunburnt!

No talking to boys. That's my thing, yk? ;)

And, of course, you shouldn't, in any circumstance, keep your voice down. You are to yell out of joy like any overexcited toddler does at the pool. So what did you want, little girl? Tell Miss Eva!

I-I... MA-MADE A ME-MESSIE MA'AM

Awwwwww. What was that again? I didn't quite hear you...

[destinedfordiapers]

“Lay down and let me get you out of that messy diaper. You’re lucky I noticed before any of the other girls.”

You were still trying to figure out what was happening. She wasn’t wrong—you did have a messy diaper. But how did she know that? None of your friends knew about your incontinence. You were fairly confident you didn’t even smell thanks to the magic of Nullo.

“I-I’m not wearing a diaper. What are you talking about?”

“Yes you are,” she says, “and you pooped yourself five minutes ago. I can tell. You don’t have to lie to me.”

You’ve been incontinent long enough to know this isn’t going to end well. It’s gotta be some kind of trap. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Really? You’re gonna stand there in a clearly loaded diaper and keep denying it? I don’t care about the diapers. I don’t care about the mess I’m about to wipe off of you. I don’t think you understand what’s going on. I’ve had a crush on you for months.”

“I was absolutely terrified of even talking to you until I saw what was clearly a diaper bulging out of your shorts a month ago. And I saw it again. And again. I knew it was my chance. When I saw you squatting down, I knew it was time. You’re super discreet about it by the way. So, are you gonna let me change your diaper or what?”

“I-wha-really?” You stuttered in utter disbelief.

“Yes, really. Now lay down. I assume you keep your spare diapers in the bag you carry with you everywhere. Good.” She pulls down your pants. “Let’s get these tabs off. One. Two. Three. And four. It’s not how I first imagined seeing you naked in my bed, but who cares. It’s finally happening.”

Somehow, despite having a girl you were crushing on for months ripping open your messy diaper, you were visibly excited.

She was blushing more than you. “Well, if I’m gonna have to be the one cleaning you up from now on, it’s good to know you’re packing down there. Not even sure how you fit this thing in your diaper,” she says as she wipes you down. Once she’s satisfied you’re all clean, she pulls you up off the bed, leading you to her bathroom.

“Where are we going?” you ask.

“To the shower. You’re gonna thank me for the change and then show me what you can do with that.”

[regressionschool]

You’re getting a sister

When Daddy first told her she was getting a sister, her stomach sank. Not from formula or prune mush, but something deeper: heartbreak. She didn’t care if her diaper was wet. She didn’t care that she couldn’t remember the last time she used the potty. All she knew was that Daddy was hers. Her boyfriend. Her Daddy. The idea of Daddy kissing someone else, calling someone else “princess,” wiping another girl’s soggy bottom? It made her heart burn with something too sharp to name. She wasn’t just a soggy little girl! She was Daddy’s girlfriend! Or at least… she used to be.

She had cried. Thrown her stuffie. Refused her baba. Daddy just waited patiently, patting her soggy bottom and letting her tantrum burn out. Then he knelt down and spoke the words that crushed her spirit like nothing else could: “Sweetie, girls who sit in soggy diapers all day aren’t women. They’re little girls. And little girls don’t get to have boyfriends, they get to have sisters.” Her lip had trembled. Her Pampers squelched as she shifted in shock. She was too stunned to even argue.

She planned to hate her new sister. She really did. But when the girl arrived—pigtails bouncing, diaper thick and pink, face glowing with shy blushes—something shifted. The jealousy dulled, replaced by a strange, fluttery warmth. It started small: holding hands during cartoon time. Falling asleep in the same crib. Whispering to each other after Daddy tucked them in. Soon, they were stealing kisses between diaper checks. Giggling when Daddy found them cuddled together in a soggy pile of plushies and baby powder.

Now, there isn’t a single day they don’t beg to wear matching diapers. One in powder pink with a soft satin bow. The other in sky blue with frilly ruffles. Matching hair ties, matching pacis, matching whimpers as they squirm in their wet padding, desperate for Daddy’s touch or each other’s. They cling tight during changies, kissing softly while Daddy wipes their princess parts clean, eyes dreamy and full of love.

Daddy watches them with a knowing smile, calling them his “soggy little soulmates.” And they beam at his praise, their cheeks burning pinker than their diapers. Sometimes they cry when they’re apart—even for naps. They don’t know how they ever lived without each other.

Daddy was right. Having a sister is the best.

[destinedfordiapers]

Two Worlds, One Family

This caption is for @baby-bear-den! I hope you enjoy it!

I smile as the front door opens. This is my favorite part of the day.

As always, you’re wearing your favorite big girl costume: a fancy white lab coat covering your chic clothes. Nobody would ever guess what you truly are. Or what you’re hiding under all those fancy clothes.

But I know.

For the few hours you leave the house, you get to pretend you have everything a diaper girl like you lacks. Power. Authority. Respect. It’s well-deserved, I’ll readily admit. You earned it. Not only do your colleagues respect you, but your subordinates fear you.

It makes me laugh every time I think about it. If they only knew.

“Hi, Daddy!” you chirp, walking over to me to let me check your diaper.

“Hi, sweetie!” I respond, removing your lab coat and feeling the soggy diaper under your clothes, “how was your day?”

It’s the contrast I love so much. Listening to you ramble on about roleplaying as big girl while you obediently lift your arms so I can remove your shirt. On and on you go. All the while, I strip you of your big girl costume, replacing them with clothes much more suited to your authentic self.

You continue rambling on about your “big girl” life, even as you’re standing in nothing but your soggy diaper. It’s adorable. But not as adorable as the onesie I put you in, delightfully colorful and covered in all kinds of barnyard animals.

Perfect for you.

I shove your paci in your mouth when I finish buttoning your onesie, stopping your adorable rambling midsentence. I’m done listening. You may command a room there, but not here.

I’ll never get tired of the look on your face when the paci silences you. It’s the look of a woman caught between two worlds. The moment you truly understand whatever happens outside of the house is nothing but a mirage. You aren’t the well-respected, highly competent biologist you think you are. Not at home.

Here you’re nothing more than Mommy and Daddy’s diaper girl—our plaything. You never have been—and never will be—in charge. Not over us, not over your own life. Your place is filling your diapers for us, adorably begging for changes, desperately wishing you could join our adult fun.

I carry you to your playpen, playing Doc McStuffins, before heading to the kitchen to make dinner. You may supervise others out there, but here you are supervised. The only thing you supervise here are the stuffies scattered around your playpen.

Someone walks into the kitchen. I turn around, preparing to scold you for leaving your playpen, only to find my girlfriend smiling back at me.

“Hey babe, how was your bath?” I ask, kissing her.

“Amazing, I love those new bath bombs,” she replies, “do I hear Doc McStuffins? She’s home early!”

“Yep, she got home a few minutes ago!”

I watch as she approaches your playpen, kissing you on the forehead. She picks you up and carries you back into the kitchen, sitting you in your high chair at the table.

Your face still burns in embarrassment whenever you’re locked into your highchair. I have no idea how we went so long without it. You look so cute in it, especially when Mommy puts your bib on you.

For the next twenty minutes, you sit in silence, listening to Mommy and Daddy talk about our day. We make an effort to ignore you, all to make you feel even more little. Besides, adults don’t want or need a baby to talk about her day.

Once dinner is ready, Mommy prepares a plate for you, cutting your chicken into bite-sized pieces and filling your cute Disney Princess plate with all your num-nums.

Mommy playfully feeds you before we eat, your face burning brighter every time she says, “here comes the choo choo train! Open up for Mommy!” When you’re finished, your face is smeared with mac and cheese, your bib dirty from all your “oopsies” as you clumsily spilled your food.

As we eat, I notice you fidgeting in your seat. I’m careful not to draw any attention to it. I know what’s about to happen. I surreptitiously prod my girlfriend, letting her in on your potty dance. You’re staring off into space, desperately—and fruitlessly—trying to avoid packing your pampers at the dinner table.

You continue to squirm, no doubt wondering why we’re still at the table long after we finished eating. I couldn’t help but laugh seeing the relief on your face as we finished eating, believing you’d be freed from your plastic prison before loading your diaper only for the relief to vanish, replaced with renewed terror, as I sat back down after cleaning the dishes, continuing my conversation.

The cutest toot, slightly—and adorably—muffled by your soggy diaper, escapes into the room. You whimper as our conversation stops, our undivided attention on your endearing display in your highchair.

“Are you making a stinky for us, baby?” Mommy asks rhetorically.

“Mmmmphfff!” you unintentionally respond, your body tightening to fill your diaper.

Your legs, once freely swaying in boredom, are now rigid and unmoving. You unconsciously grab the plastic of your highchair, fingers white, as you grip for leverage to push. Your eyes are wide, full of humiliation.

More toots escape into your diaper.

Finally, with one loud grunt, your diaper visibly expands, crinkling as it does.

“Good girl,” Mommy coos, “get all those ickies into your diaper, little one!” Your face somehow manages to grow an even darker shade of red.

You struggle for a few more minutes, your diaper occasionally expanding as you push the mess out. It’s adorable.

“All done, kiddo?” I ask, unlocking the highchair, “you did such a great job filling your diapee for us!”

“C-can I hab changies?” you whimper through your paci.

“Not yet, little one,” Mommy answers, “it’s almost your bedtime and I want to spend some time with you, baby!”

You look up at me pleadingly. I laugh. “Sorry, kiddo, I’m with Mommy on this one!”

I pick you up, carrying you over to the couch. I sit beside Mommy, gently laying you on your back across our laps.

Mommy tickles your tummy, causing you to laugh despite your embarrassment. “Such a cutie patootie we have! Daddy and I are so proud of you!” Mommy coos.

“That’s right, sweetie! I don’t know how we got so lucky! We have the cutest baby in the whole world! Even if she is stinky! Pee yew!!”

“Can you say ‘I’m the cutest, stinkiest pamper packer in the whole world!’ for us, baby?” Mommy asks.

You nervously suck on your paci. “I-I’m da cudest, stinkwiesth…p-pam-pamper packa in da ‘ho world," you stammer, faced flushed in embarrassment.

“Yes you are! Yes you are!” Mommy chirps proudly, “you’re the smartest baby in the whole world too! I don’t think there’s another baby who knows as much about animals as you!”

You stare back at Mommy, knowing the humiliating game that’s about to start.

“Yes you do, sweetie!” Mommy continues, “can our widdle scientist tell us what sound a cow makes?”

You squirm in embarrassment.

“You can do it, little one!” Mommy prods, “tell Mommy and Daddy what a cow sounds like!”

“M-moo,” you answer meekly.

“Surely you can do better than that!” I add, tickling your tummy, “try again, silly!”

“HAHAHA Daddy! It tickwes!!” you plead, squirming around, diaper crinkling wildly.

“Well, tell me what a cow says, silly!”

“MOOOOOOO!” you scream, still laughing after I stop.

“That’s right, baby!” Mommy says, “so smart! What about a pig?”

“OINK OINK OINK!” you squeal, starting to have fun despite your humiliation.

“Good job, kiddo!” I gush, “how about a frog?”

“WIBBIT! WIBBIT! WIBBIT!” you chorus, proud of yourself.

“Good girl!” Mommy sings, “what about a duck?”

“KWAK KWAK KWAK!” you lisp, violently blushing.

“So good!” I congratulate her, “but this is the hardest one yet! What does a baby say before bedtime?”

The smile fades from your face, “b-b-but I ‘on wanna go ni ni Daddy! I wan’ stay wif Mommy and Daddy!”

“No buts, silly,” Mommy says sternly, “Mommy and Daddy want to have some fun, and I gotta get you into a fresh diapee before you stink up the house!”

“Wha-no, PWEASE daddy!” you beg me, knowing I’m much more persuadable than Mommy.

Before I can answer, Mommy flashes you a dangerous look. “What did I say?”

You hiccup in fear. “T-that it’s b-bedtime, Mommy,” you answer dejectedly.

“That’s right, silly. Now say good night to Daddy, little one,” Mommy chides.

“G-goodnight, Daddy,” you whine.

“Goodnight, sweetie,” I say, kissing your forehead.

The last thing I see before you turn the corner is your pleading eyes over Mommy’s shoulder as she carries you to the changing table. I can’t help but smile at how adorable you are.

You may think you’re a big girl, but we know better. You’re right where you belong.

[prettymuchpottytrained]

Going Up?

6….5….4

The floor indicator blinks at you, a bead of sweat forming in your brow as the numbers minimize with each passing moment. But it’s not moving fast enough for you.

4

The number now glares at you as the elevator stops to pick up people on the floor just two above your room. If you could just make it to the room it’ll be okay. You bounce foot to foot, hoping it’ll relieve the ever-building pressure in your tummy.

“Are you okay, baby?”

Daddy asks, to which you curtly nod, too focused on trying not to fill your already very soggy diaper.

You and Daddy had planned this trip months ago; your second anniversary trip to the beach to celebrate two years of Daddy being your legal guardian. Of course, you were much better at potty training back then.

3….2

You whimper as your stomach growls, it seems to echo in the tiny waiting room as more and more people collect there, joining you and Daddy in the wait to go up from the beach. Your swimsuit does little to hide the waterlogged padding around your waist, causing you to get some lingering glances. 

But you don’t care, you need to go potty now. 

‘Not here, not here’

You think to yourself as more and more people crowd around the elevator doors, the numbers continue to shrink until inevitably 

1

The elevator dings, metal doors sliding open as a flurry of people collide, some getting in while others get off, but not you. 

It’s too late.

There’s nothing you can do as your legs stiffen, hands balling into fists as you feel your brows furrow and your nose scrunch ever so slightly, eyes glossing over as you stare off into space.

Your daddy watches you with a sympathetic expression, his own cheeks twinged with the slightest shade of pink; The last of the people waiting to board the elevator clamber on and hold the door open for the two of you.

“Are you going up?”

The gentleman holding the door asks sweetly, him and many others watching you two expectantly.

He’s interrupted by a rather loud toot from your backside as your diaper begins to bulge out of the leg of your swimsuit. 

“Um, we’ll catch the next one. We might be here for a minute.”

Your daddy laughs awkwardly, scratching his neck, embarrassed by the little show you are putting on for all the other patrons of the hotel. 

The deafening silence is cut through by only the sounds of you grunting.

“Oh, I see. I don’t miss those days, brother. Enjoy your trip”

The gentleman laughs, along with a few others behind him, a murmur of agreement floating out of the elevator and onto your red ears. Letting his hand fall away from the door so it can begin to slide closed.

“Stay out of trouble, stinker”

The stranger calls out before disappearing behind the door as the elevator makes its ascent. 

Your legs feel like jelly, and you can finally take a deep breath again as your body relaxes, you feel the bulk of your now soiled diaper, whimpering as you reach behind and feel the comical bulge in your swimmie. The nasty smell filling the air of the tiny room and assaulting your senses, daddy sighs.

“Cmon baby. There’s a station in the lobby, let’s get you changed.”

[babypeachy-16]

Queen of diapers 🖤

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[destinedfordiapers]

All The Small Things

You check for any nosy neighbors one last time. The coast is clear. You have the house all to yourself.

Finally.

Finding time to indulge in your secret diaper kink is never easy. But for today, at least, you have a few hours to yourself. Your boyfriend won’t get off work for another few hours.

You hate hiding this from him, but what choice do you have? He would never accept the idea that his girlfriend was hopelessly turned on by diapers, of all things. Shame drove you to hide your diaper stash—deep in the darkest recesses of your closet, right next to your onesies, pacis, and stuffies.

But not today.

You get to work building your little space, laying your blankets and adorning the space with pillows and stuffies. Toys and changing supplies are strewn about. The smell of baby powder drifts through the room, an erotic scent that makes your legs shaky with lust.

It was perfect. Cozy, warm, and undeniably cute.

All that was left was that thick, delicious diaper calling your name. Just unfolding and fluffing it sent erotic jolts through your body. By the time you finish taping it on, your mind is flooded with ecstasy.

Your paci bobs in your mouth as you focus on the growing warmth in your diaper. Your hand rubs it greedily. Desperate, overwhelming arousal floods your brain.

You lay in a daze for the next few minutes, empty of all thoughts. Empty of everything except your diaper, its warmth, and the touch of your fingers.

A car door slams. It was close. Terror replaces the ecstasy from moments before. This wasn’t supposed to happen! What is your boyfriend doing home so early?

You stare at the door like a deer in the headlights. Despite begging your body to move, your legs remain glued to the floor. Any second, your boyfriend would walk in the door and see you pathetically sucking on a paci in a soggy diaper —exposing you as the diaper girl you are.

Minutes—or was it an eternity—pass. But the door never opened.

It wasn’t your boyfriend’s car door slamming; it must have been your neighbor's. Breathing in deep relief, you grab your phone and text your boyfriend.

“Hey babe, when do you think you’ll be home from work?”

“Working late tonight,” he replies, “My boss is out of control on this project. I’ll call you when I leave.”

Perfect. You’ll have plenty of time to clean up before he gets home.

“Time for Bluey,” you say to nobody in particular as you turn on the TV.

You spend the next hour and a half in a blissful little space, watching Bluey and playing with your toys. All the while, your diaper slowly swells without any conscious effort.

A sudden cramp forces your attention to your tummy.

You’ve been waiting for this moment for days, eating high-fiber foods and even holding it yesterday. All for this. You didn’t want to mess your diaper—not when days like these are so rare—you wanted to destroy it.

Never taking your eyes off Bluey, you get on your hands and knees, lowering your diapered bum into the perfect squatting position.

It was like nothing you have ever experienced. You were a passenger in your own body. Your diaper is filled with wave after wave of mess without any effort.

It just happened.

Your diaper crinkled under the effort of your load, the mess spreading to every nook and cranny of your diaper.

No drug could ever make you feel as good as you do right now. The bulging warmth of your mess, the smell mixing with the baby powder. Bluey playing on the edge of your awareness.

You were so lost in the moment you never heard two car doors closing. Or the keys rattling in the front door. You didn’t even see two people walk inside, laughing at the scene unfolding before them.

“I think she pooped her diaper, babe!” That voice—her voice—startled you out of your daze.

In your sheer horror of realizing you weren’t alone, you fall backward, landing on your poopy diaper. A sickening, humiliating squelch echoes through the room.

“Wait, was that her diaper?”

Tears well in your eyes. You look up to find your boyfriend holding hands with your best friend, Mia, both with rabid excitement in their eyes.

“Don’t be scared, Kayla,” your boyfriend coos, “Everything is okay. We know all about your diapees! You have nothing to be ashamed of! Not even a poopy diaper!”

Too stunned to speak, you do nothing but blankly stare at your boyfriend, doing your best to cover your browning diaper.

Mia steps toward you. “Yeah, Kay-Kay, we already talked all about your little, uh…interests, and we settled on something that works for all of us!”

“Wha-what do you mean,” you whine.

“Well, sweetie, that stash of diapers of yours wasn’t as hidden as you think. And you really should use incognito mode if you're gonna browse on my computer. I read all the silly things you want. So, Mia and I decided to make all your dreams come true!”

Your face burns in horror, shame, and humiliation. You’ve never felt so exposed. They know.

Mia kneels next to you. “I promise, it’s okay, Kayla. Why don’t you lean back for Mommy so I can get you into a clean diaper while we explain how things will be from now on.”

You scan Mia’s face but find nothing but compassion….and authority. Too overwhelmed to argue, you lay back.

“Thank you, sweetie,” Mia gushed, “You already laid out all your diaper change supplies too! Such a smartie!”

Your boyfriend sits on the couch behind you, leaning over you. “Obviously, things are gonna change around here, Kayla,” your boyfriend starts, pausing when Mia rips open the tabs of your diaper, “You were right about hiding this from me, I never would have been in a sexual relationship with someone who poops her diapers. So, Mia is going to take over for you.”

You try to get up, but Mia gently nudges you back down. “Where do you think you’re going, little one? Your bum is still covered in poopies!”

“From now on, I’m not your boyfriend—I’m your Daddy. And Mia agreed to be your Mommy! Isn’t that great?”

You look at both of them, flabbergasted at this turn of events. “I-I-…b-but…”

“Let me finish, honey. Mia is moving in tomorrow. She’ll be sleeping with me. We’ll turn the guest room into a nursery for you, complete with everything an oversized baby like you needs.”

Your boyfriend continues, “Now that we know what you really are, you can expect to be treated like the baby you are. You’ll be in diapers all day, every day. What your websites called ‘24/7.’ You are never allowed to change yourself—you will wait for me, Mia, or whoever we put in charge of you to change you. And do not ask for changes either. We will check your diaper.”

Mia lifts your legs into the air. She grabs wipes with her free hand, cleaning the mess you left for her.

“You will not have any adult responsibilities—or privileges. You can kiss things like driving, alcohol, and any movie or TV show rated above PG. You’ll be put to bed at 8 PM every night and nap every day at noon.”

Mia buts in, “Babe, don’t forget about…you know!”

“Oh, right! I almost forgot! Sex. Or, more appropriately for you, the lack thereof. Babygirls are far too sweet and innocent for things like sex. But, if you behave, you’ll get some special diapered buzzy time with your wand once every week or two. Always with your diaper on, though. Your princess parts will never have anything touching them except a soggy diaper.”

You hear Mia fluffing your next diaper. She smiles at you. “Up!” she says, tapping your bum. She slides the diaper under you. “Thank you, sweetie!”

Baby powder rains down on you, the infantile scent proving you belong where you are.

Under their control.

“What do you think, baby?” Daddy asks, “are you ready to start your new life?”

[mellowsadistic]

"Is this a joke?" Darcie tugged at the bottom of her shirt in a vain attempt to cover her crinkly underwear. Her face was flushed with embarrassment. "You'd better give me a good explanation or I'm taking this... this thing off. What kind of photoshoot is this?"

“You said you wanted something innocent,” said the cameraman. “Sexy but innocent, that’s what you said. What could be more innocent than a diaper?”

"But they're for... you know, peeing in."

"And pooping in, yes."

Her face went even redder. "How is this supposed to be sexy?!" she demanded, gesturing down at the thick nappy bulging between her thighs. "I look ridiculous!"

“It’s sexy because you look ridiculous," the photographer said slowly, as if he thought she was a bit dim. "No self-respecting woman would ever dress like this, right? So you’re showing that you've got no self-respect, and that willingness to humiliate yourself is hot as hell!"

Darcie clenched her fists. “But I don’t want to humiliate myself, and I do have self-respect!"

“I know, sweet-cheeks," the man sighed. "Your manager told me all about your little ego, how you think you're too good to pose in the nude. But since you won't get your tits out on camera, we have to go with this instead. There’s a lot of money to be made in niche markets, you know.”

Darcie felt the fury rising in her like bile. "I am not doing fetish porn." She spat the words at him, but before she could clamber out of the absurd oversized crib he'd told her to stand in, the camera went off. Flash. The light was dazzling, and she blinked in confusion. Her mind suddenly seemed oddly blank. What had she been doing?

“You’re incontinent," said the cameraman.

“What?" Darcie's lips twisted in disgust. The very idea of not being able to control her bladder or bowels was revolting to her. "I’m not inconti-”

Flash.

“You need diapers.”

What was this lunatic talking about? “No I don-!”

Flash.

“You’re too stupid for toilets.”

“I'm… What?” She felt like her head was full of cotton wool. Too stupid for toilets? Was she?

Flash.

“You flunked out of potty training.”

"Uhhh...." Darcie tried to speak, but all that came out was a whine. She realised she was drooling.

Flash.

The cameraman was saying something, but she couldn't focus on the words. Whatever they were, they floated into her brain and settled there. There was a warmth in her pants, and a moment later the smell of urine reached her nostrils. “I'm… I’m peeing," she said. A giggle burst out of her. "I peed my nappy."

“Good girl!" the cameraman cooed. He was standing right in front of her now. "Good girl for peeing in your diaper, Darcie!"

Darcie giggled again and smiled. She was glad she'd made the man happy, even though she hadn't wet herself on purpose. She shifted her weight from foot to foot, feeling her sodden nappy squelching between her legs. It was soaked to the brim and sagging heavily, but Darcie knew that was completely normal. She hadn't messed herself yet, but it would happen soon. She was just a stupid, overgrown toddler who couldn't control herself. She'd spent all her life in nappies, and she'd spend the rest of it squishing about in them too.

"Now let's get your top off," said the cameraman. "Arms up! I got some great pictures to send to your manager, but the next shots will look better if you’re in nothing but your diaper!”

Darcie smiled vacantly and did as she was told.

[akinkycouplereturns-deactivated]

“Awwwwh look at youuuuu! Your babysitter is the best for taking these pictures of you showing off your big diapies for us, baby! And what a good girl you are for complying so willingly with your little mandatory checks whenever daddy or I ask 🥰 What’s wrong, honey? Are you embawassed to have given in so easily to us? Is it embarrassing to need a babysitter still at your age? Much less one who’s younger than you! Should I tell her about your adorable secret little crush on her??? Let’s ask daddy!”

“Uh ohhh is somebody gwumpy? You don’t want her to know?? Why’s that?? Are you pouting because you’re stuck in jammies and diapies and momma gets to wear skimpy dresses and get dicked down? Are you mad I told your babysitter she could have her boyfriend over after she puts you down for bed at eight pm? Awww, you don’t like her boyfriend?? Who’s your little friend? How about you snuggle and love on them before I take them from you too, crinkle cuckie ;)”

“Take off your top let’s see those ittie bittie titties :)”

“Arms downnnn”

“They’re toooo precious, cutie! And we love your darling little poses for us ;)”

“Now, go turn your phone in to your babysitter! Be good tonight for us, okay? You know momma will check. And we better find you in bed, lights out when we get home, sweetie.. no making any trouble for the sitter, little girl! Momma has been such a sexy little tease tonight and we’d hate for your naughty ass to delay us any longer. Alright, good night, baby girl! Send us both a kissie and say I love you!”

[stuckindiapers-deactivated20250]

“You should be ASHAMED OF YOURSELF YOUNG LADY! No, I don’t care, we are WAY BEYOND THAT! Now have some decency and go sit on the balcony while we get unpacked…hurry up before your dirty diaper stinks up the whole suite!”

After three hours in the camper van, they finally made it to the parking lot at the hotel Christy’s best friend, Amanda booked for the weekend at Disney World. One by one all the girls grabbed their bags and began towards the hotel lobby.

Between Amanda, Christy, Taylor, and all their daughters, they had ten girls there all celebrating the 16th birthday of Amanda’s daughter Addison.

“How long’s it been since we last came here? It’s been awhile…”

“It has to be over ten years ago…I think Sarah was six or seven, so yeah, almost 15 years!”

“Our room must’ve smelled like a nursery with all the diaper changes we ran through LOL…”

“This weekend will be a breeze! the only ones we have to worry about this time Naomi and Lily!”

“Ohh that reminds me…”

Without hesitation, Christy stuck her hand under Sarah’s skirt lifting it up just enough for Amanda and Taylor to figure out what was going on. She grabbed a handful of her 19 year old daughter’s diaper, giving it a few pats before swiftly removing her hand.

“Just a little damp, nothing to worry about sweetie”

“MOOOM….! Stop it…” Sarah said under her breath turning away from her mom’s grip.

Amanda and Taylor giggled, somewhat shocked, that Christy went so far to check her daughter’s diaper so nonchalantly.

“No need to be embarrassed Sarah, your mom already told us about your recent diagnosis”

“Mom, seriously…”

“If it makes you feel better, my niece was diagnosed with the same thing a few years ago. Calling sudden incontinence is very fitting LOL…I’m kidding Sarah. Hers only lasted for a month or so which is the average timeline, just give it a couple more weeks…and don’t be so hard on yourself!”

“Fineee, I guess your right”

“That’s the spirit! Come on now, we are at the most magical place in the world, don’t let what you’re wearing under your skirt ruin it for you…”

“Besides, none of the other girls know, so let’s keep it that way”

“She hides it very well…I mean, we just got her and I ALREADY forgot LOL”

“Just remember ‘SNL’…Sarah, Naomi, and Lily HAHAHA”

Sarah blushed hearing her name being associated with the only two other girls still wearing diapers for the weekend, especially when you take into account that they are both still in preschool. But Amanda was right, no one else has a clue that she’s still wearing a diaper, well besides her little sister Katie, but she was too busy trying to look cool around Addison and her friends to even care. Sarah gave herself a quick diaper pat, confirming her mom’s analysis, before tugging her skirt down and following the girls into the hotel lobby. As they all sat down and waited to get checked, Sarah felt a small stream of pee squirt into the front of her diaper. She felt embarrassed that as of two weeks ago she had lost all control over her bladder, how pathetic that a girl her age has less control than the two toddlers sitting next to her.

After another 15 minutes passed, Sarah felt another movement brewing inside her, thankfully this was one that she COULD control. She blushed just thinking about the idea of not only peeing herself uncontrollably, but also pooping herself in the same fashion. Amanda noticed the change in Sarah’s face and leaned towards her.

“What’s wrong Sarah? Did you have another accident in your diaper?”

“Uhhhmmm….”

“I’m just teasing you Sarah…relax! But trust me, I know what that face means LOL”

“Thanks for being so cool about this Amanda, I appreciate the humor lol..”

“That’s what I’m here for!”

Another ten minutes passed by and the cramp in Sarah’s stomach was growing heavier and heavier. All the other girls were off playing around on some of the games towards the back of the lobby, as Sarah patiently waited for the room number to be called along side the only ones there who knew she was sitting in a slightly squishy diaper. Sarah scanned the room realizing something weird.

“Am I just blind or are there actually no bathrooms in this entire lobby?”

“Now that you mention it, I don’t think there are…I guess it wasn’t in the budget HAHAHA”

“With how much these tickets costed us, I sure hope it would be!”

“The screen behind the front desk says our room is next up so it can’t be too much longer”

Sarah stood up to shake her legs out from sitting while stretching her arms up above her head. She heard giggling behind her as her skirt lifted up just barely enough for her mom and friends to see the bottom of her diaper poked out but before she had time to end the stretch, she felt a hand cup the bottom of her diaper with a squeeze, it was Taylor!”

“Oh ya, she’s still got PLENTY of room in there!”

“Hey…what are you doing!”

“Your diaper was poking out a bit so I just figured I’d give it a squeeze LOL”

“Mooomm…”

“Oh stop it Sarah, and you need to be more careful with those skirts…especially when your diaper starts to sag”

“Uggghhh whatever…”

After nearly a full hour of waiting, FINALLY their number was called. The girls all grabbed their bags and tossed it on the cart as the hotel manager gave them a quick tour of the lobby. All the while, the pressure in Sarah’s stomach grew stronger and stronger before becoming unbearable.

“Mom, how long is this gonna take?” Addison asked Amanda, “Feel Naomi’s pull-up…she needs a change”

“The closest bathroom is gonna require you to hop on the tram, but the elevator should be down any minute now…I can check with the front desk and see if we have anyone in the nursery that could assist?”

“No that won’t be necessary, thank you sir!”

Finally the floor number showing what floor elevator was on started to decrease, but Sarah was nearing sheer desperation mode.

“Mom? Can you ask if the nursery is open…”

“Ohh? It sounds like you are already starting to regain some control!”

“Mom…shhhh!”

“Just go in your diaper if you have to sweetie, it holds a lot more than you think!”

Sarah groaned, too embarrassed to tell her mom the truth, that her 19 year old daughter was on the verge of shitting her pants in the hotel lobby at Disney world…but then, the elevator opened with a ding. It was huge! Not only did their group of ten get in, but they were also joined by another group of a similar size. Sarah let out a sigh of relief as she bent down slightly to pick up her bags, one in each hand, but as she stood back up to her feet, she began to blush.

“Come on Sarah, what are you waiting for!” A couple of the girls said with excitement as their vacation was officially about to begin.

The small burst of tension required to pick her bags up off the floor was all it took for disaster to strike. Sarah’s stomach dropped and without even trying, she felt a warm mush of poop slide into the back of her diaper as she looked up to the entire elevator staring at the last person to step in, Sarah. Not wanting to draw any unnecessary attention to herself, she took her first step into the elevator, feeling the mush in the back of her diaper continuing to grow. Amanda let out a soft chuckle as she made eye contact with Taylor.

“Oh dear, we are about to see how much that diaper can hold, aren’t we girls…”

After wading through the crowd, feeling the mush of her diaper spread with every step, Sarah finally got to a spot where she could set her back down. Amanda’s comment went unanswered as everyone just assumed the diaper she was talking about was Naomi’s and not the 19 year old who just waddled into the elevator in the midst of shitting herself. Sarah discreetly moved her hand to the back of her now wrecked diaper and gave it a slight squeeze before giving the final push…with her hand firmly pressed against the seat of her diaper, she let out one more explosion of poo, feeling it shoot up the back of her diaper and even sliding up the front. Her diaper crinkled loudly from the final explosion into her diaper getting another comment out of Amanda.

“Hey Sarah? Do you mind helping me with getting Naomi’s diaper changed when we get up to the suite?”

“Uhhh sure…I guess?”

The elevator door began to close and Sarah was in panic mode, praying that her diaper wouldn’t cause a smelly scene for the ride to the 68th floor…

“Addison? Are Naomi and Lily over by you? Do you mind checking their diapers for me?”

“I just checked…both pull-ups are wet but they aren’t leaking or anything, they should be good until we get up to the room”

A few seconds later, Addison and the other girls began to realize why Amanda requested the additional diaper check.

“Ewww what is that smell…? Disgusting!”

“It smells like a dirty diaper…uhhckk”

“Can this elevator go ANY SLOWER…that smells AWFUL!”

“Girls, that’s enough…we are almost there”

Sarah sat in silence, her face flushed with pure humiliation, yet thankful that the investigation for the dirty diaper was still ongoing. Her humiliation deepened as she looked towards the wall to her left realizing it was a floor to ceiling mirror. Her eyes immediately gravitated to the problem area, and to her absolute horror, she realized that it was so much worse than she thought…her diaper was visibly sagging well below the bottom of her skirt with brownish hue running up the back towards her spine! Then, a woman from the other group spoke up.

“I’m so sorry ladies, that might be one of mine…”

“Oh don’t even worry about it, trust me, we have ALL been there before LOL”

Sarah blushed yet again at the degrading comments, she had popped her diaper and stood by silently as every other toddler in the elevator got their diapers checked. Finally the elevator doors opened, but it wasn’t for them. Instead it was the other group who had made it to their floor, leaving Sarah no one else to blame for what she had done in her diaper. But just seconds later the elevator doors opened and the girls were on their way to the suite. Sarah was able to stay in the back of the back thankfully as they walked down the hallway, her diaper full on swinging from side to side with every step at this point. She used her hand to try to force the diaper back up but the weight of her mess caused it to fall back into the same position, only mushing the mess inside.

“Oh my God, seriously! Did someone shit their pants or something? It still smells so bad!”

“Katie? Tell the truth, did you poop your pants? HAHAHA!”

“Ewww that’s disgusting! I would rather die than poop my pants…”

“Wait a sec…oh jeez, sorry girls. We actually walked right past our door, it’s right back there!”

Sarah blushed, she knew….everyone turned around and her luck had finally ran out…

“Oh my God…OH MY GOD…OH MY GOD…!”

“HAHAHAHAHA EWWWW WHAT THE FUCK”

“Is she seriously wearing a DIAPER right now??”

“KATIE! You didn’t tell us your big sister still shit her pants like a baby HAHAHA”

“Mom! Did you know about this? Look at Sarah! She shit her pants, it was her the entire time EWWWW THATS FUCKING DISGUSTING MOM! Why did you invite her??”

“Oh stop it, it’s just a dirty diaper Addison, what’s the issue?”

“The issue? The issue is that she’s 19 YEARS OLD AND NOT ONLY WEARING DIAPERS, BUT POOPING IN THEM, LOOK! Ewwww it’s all brown in the back…”

Finally, Sarah hit rock bottom when Addison had Naomi and Lily rip the skirt off of her waist, leaving her in right outside the door to the suite with her shit stained dirty diaper on full display…

[mamans-fille]

"potty training" with your big sisters, all of them proudly parading their pull-ups and training panties in front of their baby sister, making sure she knows exactly how different they are to the diapers shes trapped in, the fact that they look different, feel different, smell different than the pathetic pampers of their loser little sibling a point of pride for them, and delicious shame for you. Begging your Mama to potty train, that way you could be that much closer to your big sisters, and their infectious maturity.

to your surprise and delight she says yes! she even says that she found a perfect mentor for you to train alongside so you'll be potty trained in no time! She blindfolds you, saying shes taking you to your mentor right away! the two of you go into the bathroom, Mama chaining you next to the Big Kid Potty, as she removes the blind, you see that shes put a sign where you kneel reading "training potty". "Just think! Once you're able to take piss as good as the real Potty, your Sisters might be able to actually make it out of diapers! all because of you darling~"