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@sissy-bitch312
Rubbin' the Nubbin'
The bed is already a wreck when the final stretch starts.
He’s got her folded in half, knees pinned beside her ears, hips pistoning so hard the headboard slams the wall with every thrust. The room is nothing but wet, filthy sounds: the loud, rhythmic slap of his heavy balls against her soaked ass, the squelch of her pussy taking every inch, the creak of springs threatening to snap.
She’s beyond words at first, just high, desperate, animal noises spilling out of her open mouth.
“F-FUCK! Fuck, fuck, fuck, YES!! Wreck me! Wreck me, oh my goddd—”
He snarls, sweat dripping off his chest onto her tits. “That little diaper bitch ever give it to you like this??"
“Never! FUCK! Never! You’re so deep, I can’t, I can’t—”
Her back arches violently, nails clawing red lines down his back. He slams in to the hilt and grinds, thick cockhead pressing right against her cervix.
“Tell him,” he growls. “Tell your cuck whose pussy this is.”
“It’s yours!” she screams, voice cracking. “It’s yours, Daddy, it’s fucking yours! He never even—unngghh!!!”
Another brutal thrust. The slippery sound of her soaked pussy welcoming him hungrily.
“Look at him while I ruin you.”
Her glassy eyes find you in the chair. She's panting like a bitch in heat, tears streaking her mascara, mouth open in a desperate "O".
“I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna cum! Nnnghh i'm gonna so hard on your big fucking cock while he watches in his diapurrohhhh god! Oh god! Oh GODDD!!!”
He speeds up, relentless, skin slapping skin so fast it’s a blur.
“Do it. Cum all over the dick that owns you.”
She shatters.
Her whole body locks up, that silent scream women do when all their breath seems to vanish, then: thighs shaking uncontrollably, pussy clamping down and pulsing so hard he groans through clenched teeth. A raw, guttural roar tears out of her as the orgasm detonates, long, violent waves that leave her convulsing, squirting messily around his shaft, soaking his balls, the sheets, everything.
“Fuuuck, yes, yes, YES!”
He keeps pounding through it, drawing it out until she’s sobbing from overstimulation, every muscle in his thighs and abs clench, then he slams deep one last time and grunts. His balls draw up, you can actually see them contract, once, twice, three times in a row, slow and powerful as they pump a thick, hot load straight into her spasming cunt.
Their bodies are locked together, chests heaving against each other, slick skin sliding with every ragged gasp. You can see the pulse in his neck hammering, the way his back ripples with aftershocks, his ass still flexed tight from that final thrust. Her fingers are dug into his shoulders so hard her knuckles are white, nails leaving red crescents.
His heavy balls are still pressed flush against her, twitching with the last few lazy pumps, emptying the final drops deep inside. A thick rivulet of cum is already leaking out around his shaft, running down her ass crack and pooling beneath her on the ruined sheets.
They stay like that for seconds that stretch into eternity, him pinning her open, her pussy fluttering helplessly around him, both of them gasping, shaking, utterly spent.
Only when the trembling finally starts to ease does he let her legs slide down his sweat-slick back. She melts into the mattress with a broken little moan, thighs falling open, cum pouring out of her in a slow, obscene flood.
Then, and only then, does she turn her flushed, wrecked face toward you in the cuck chair, mascara smeared, lips swollen, voice raw and dripping with honeyed cruelty.
You nod frantically, cheeks burning hotter than ever, the pacifier bobbing against your chest where it’s clipped to the frilly collar of your dress.
The bull chuckles, low and smug, the sound rumbling from deep in his chest. You don’t even remember his name anymore. He’s been coming around for a week or two, maybe three, but she always makes you call them “Daddy” anyway, so they all blur together and slip right out of your head.
She pats his broad, sweaty chest like he’s a prized pet, nails dragging lightly through the hair there, then locks her glittering eyes on you again.
“Of course you did,” she croons, voice syrupy and cruel, every syllable soaked in mock affection. “Look how puffy your diaper already is. All that watching made your little clitty leak, didn’t it?”
You whimper, eyes fixed on the floor, cheeks on fire.
“Spread those knees, princess. Wider. Let Daddy see exactly what a real man did to Mommy while you sat there in your crinkly padding.”
Your thighs tremble as you force them apart. The thick, swollen diaper resists for a second, then gives with a loud, wet crinkle, splaying your legs obscenely wide. The saturated front bulges outward, shiny plastic stretched tight, the tiny, pathetic outline of your tucked nubbin visibly twitching and dripping against the soaked padding.
She smiles like she’s admiring the saddest, sweetest piece of art in the world.
“Poor baby girl… sitting there in your soggy little diaper, dripping like a broken faucet while Daddy gave Mommy the fucking of her life.”
The bull snorts, stretching back against the pillows like a conquering king. She melts into him, letting his huge hand palm her breast possessively, thumb flicking her nipple while she keeps her gaze pinned on you.
“Go on, sweetheart,” she purrs. “Tell Mommy and Daddy, out loud, how soaking wet your diaper got from watching a real cock stretch me open and pump me full. I want to hear every embarrassing word.”
Your voice is tiny, cracked, barely audible over the wet crinkle of the diaper when you shift.
“My… my diaper got really wet, Mommy…”
You swallow hard, eyes fixed on the floor.
“While Daddy was… was fucking you so hard… my little clitty kept leaking the whole time. It’s all swollen and puffy now… warm and sticky inside…"
A humiliated whimper escapes.
You trail off into a shamed little whine, thighs trembling, the thick padding bulging obviously between them as proof.
“Aww!! It's so fwustwating watching Mommy and Daddy have gwown up time while you wriggle and watch in your widdle pampurrs huh?.”
She reaches down and gives the bull’s spent cock a playful little pat, then turns her full attention on you.
“Are you feeling left out? Poor little thing, sitting there all puffy and sticky while the real adults played.”
She cups her own breast idly, voice dropping into that syrupy, sing-song baby-talk that makes your stomach flip.
“Don’t worry, princess. We didn’t forget about you. Mommy and Daddy got to cum… now it’s baby gurl’s turn for her special diaper cummies.”
She leans forward, chin in her hands, eyes sparkling.
“Go on, sweetheart. Rub it. Right over that silly little bump. Show Daddy how widdle baby cucks get off! Go on! Put that hand on your soggy pampurr and wub wub wub.”
Your face is on fire, but the ache between your legs is worse. Your hand drops like it has a mind of its own, palm pressing the hot, swollen front of the diaper against your throbbing nub. The second you make contact there’s a loud, wet SQUELCH, so obscene it echoes off the walls.
“That’s it,” she coos, voice dripping with syrupy delight. “Nice widdle circles. Make it crinkle for us, baby girl. Let Daddy hear every sloppy sound.”
You start rubbing, slow, mortifying circles. The saturated padding sloshes under your hand, plastic crinkling, gel shifting, your tiny nub sliding helplessly in its own warm puddle.
The bull smirks, eyes half-lidded. “That all he’s got? Looks like he’s rubbing a damn clit.”
“You saw how small it was when I was changing his diaper,” she laughs, wrapping her fingers around the bull’s thickening cock and giving it a slow, possessive stroke just to drive the point home. “It’s just a stubby little nubby. But it’s our baby’s special clitty, isn’t it?”
She leans in, baby-talk thick and vicious. “Tell Daddy thank you for fucking Mommy so good.”
You whimper, rubbing faster, the diaper growing hotter and sloppier under your palm. “Th-thank you, Daddy…”
“Louder, princess,” she orders, grinding her ass back against the bull’s now fully hard cock. “And don’t you dare stop rubbing. I want that diaper absolutely creamy and ruined before he bends me over again. You don’t get to cum inside Mommy anymore; you get to squirt in your padding like the useless little girl you are.”
She tips her head back onto his shoulder, moaning softly as he pinches her nipple hard, eyes never leaving yours.
“Rub, baby. Rub rub rub. Louder. Faster. This is your sex life now.”
Your hand is already flying, the soaked front squishing and crinkling so loudly it fills the room, but she’s not done.
“Now put one hand on your bottom, baby. Right over your pretty little plug.” She taps the air like she’s patting an invisible diapered butt. “Pat it for us. Nice and loud.”
You obey instantly. Your free palm slaps the seat of your diaper with a heavy, wet THUMP. The plug shifts inside you, the one she stuffed up your ass before pulling the diaper up tight. "So you don't have any stinky accidents and ruin Mommy and Daddy's fun!"
The sudden pressure on the fat, thick rubber plug makes your eyes roll back and a pathetic squeak escape your throat.
“Keep going. Pat pat pat. Good girl.”
You keep rubbing the front in frantic circles while your other hand spanks the back of the diaper in rhythm: THUMP… squish… THUMP… squish… THUMP… squish…
Every slap drives the plug deeper, grinding it right against your prostate, forcing fresh pre-cum to spurt into the already-saturated padding. The diaper grows hotter, heavier, sloppier with every humiliating beat.
She watches with pure glee, baby-talk thick and vicious.
“Now bounce, baby. Up and down on that plug like it’s your favorite toy. Keep rubbing your clitty with the other hand, big slow circles. That’s it… bounce and rub, bounce and rub.”
You obey instantly, lifting and dropping your weight in the chair. The diaper crinkles and slaps against the seat, the plug driving deeper with every bounce, your trapped nub sliding helplessly through the warm, slippery gel. Up—THUD—down—SQUELCH—up—THUD—down—SQUELCH.
She tilts her head, mock-adoring. “Aww, wook at the widdle baby go! Say it for Mommy. Goo goo ga ga.”
Your cheeks are on fire, but the words tumble out in a broken, breathy lisp around the pacifier clipped to your frilly collar.
“Pwease, Mommy! Pwease wet me make goo goo’s! Baby so cwose!”
“No.” The single word cracks like a whip.
“Stop touching your diaper. Right. Now.”
Your hands snap away as if the plastic burned you. A broken, high-pitched keen tears out of your throat as the orgasm slams into a brick wall and throbs there, huge, agonizing, trapped inside the swollen padding. Your hips jerk helplessly in the air, chasing a touch that isn’t there, the plug grinding cruelly with every useless twitch.
She leans forward, elbows on her knees, voice sliding back into that syrupy baby-talk that somehow feels even worse after the bark.
“No goo goo’s yet, princess. We’re going to edge that widdle clitty until you’re a crying, leaking mess. Rub again, nice and slow… all the way up to the very brink… and stop. Show Daddy how obedient a plugged-up little diaper slut can be.”
You sob, but your trembling hand creeps back between your legs. Slow circles… the soaked padding squishes warmly, the plug nudges your prostate with every tiny shift… faster… faster… the heat coils, unbearable…
Right as your thighs start shaking and your breath turns into frantic baby whimpers, she snaps, “Hands off.”
You yank them away with a wail, hips bucking at nothing, fresh tears spilling down your cheeks.
Again. And again. And again.
Each time you get closer, each time you’re forced to stop, the diaper growing hotter and heavier with denied pre-cum, your voice cracking into higher and higher baby babble.
“Pwease, Mommy… pwease… baby gonna die if no goo goo’s…”
She just smiles, letting you suffer, letting the bull watch and smirk while your entire world narrows to the throbbing, aching, utterly ruined padding between your legs.
“Please Mommy! Please please please let baby make goo goo’s! I’ll be so good, I promise!”
She lets the silence stretch until your pathetic hiccupping is the only sound in the room.
Then she leans forward, voice suddenly ice-cold and clipped. No more baby-talk, just pure, calm cruelty.
“Listen carefully, little girl: You have one chance. Right now.
You collapse forward out of the chair, landing on your padded knees with a wet thud. The diaper sags heavily between your thighs as you start bouncing on the plug like a wind-up toy gone haywire, babbling in a high, sloppy, desperate wail:
“Goo goo ga ga! Pwease pwease pweeeeease Mommy! Baby so sowwy, baby so dumb an’ usewess! Tankoo tankoo tankoo Daddy fow fuckin’ Mommy so good! Baby watched evewy single thwust an’ it made baby’s widdle clitty thwob an’ leak an’ baby wanna cweam pampurrs so bad! Pwease wet baby make big messy goo goo’s! Baby pwomise be good foreva! Baby jus’ a dumb diapee girl! Goo goo ga ga ga gaaahhh!”
A thick string of drool spills from your open mouth, sliding down your chin and dripping onto the frilly dress as you bounce harder, diaper squelching, plug grinding, tears and snot mixing on your face.
“Guh-guh-ga ga! Goo goo’s pwease! Baby beg-beg-beg! Wanna cweam for Mommy an’ Daddy! Pwease pwease pweeeee—”
You dissolve into wet, incoherent baby noises, rocking and humping the air, utterly broken.
She turns her head lazily toward the bull, one eyebrow raised.
“Well? Did the little diaper princess earn her goo goo’s?”
The bull snorts, looking down at your drooling, bouncing, sobbing mess.
“I’d like to say no just to spite the pathetic fucker… but Jesus Christ, that was the most embarrassing shit I’ve ever seen in my life.”
She laughs, bright and cruel, and flicks a finger at you.
“Fine. Go ahead, baby. Bounce on that plug and make the biggest, messiest, most pathetic goo goo’s you’ve ever made in your diaper. You have ten seconds before I change my mind.”
She starts counting down, slow and merciless.
“Ten…”
You throw yourself into it like your life depends on it. Palm slamming the swollen, squelching front, hips bouncing so hard the chair creaks.
“Nine…”
The plug rams deep with every drop, thick head grinding your prostate, diaper slapping wetly against your thighs.
“Eight… seven…”
“Goo goo ga ga! Goo goo ga—”
“Six… five…”
Your squeal turns into a high, broken wail as the pressure snaps. Hot, thick ropes surge out of your clitty in violent pulses, flooding the already-soaked padding.
“Four…”
Another spurt, then another, each one making the diaper heavier, hotter, creamier. You can feel it spreading, coating everything, the plastic bulging obscenely.
“Three… two…”
You’re still coming, hips jerking helplessly, drool flying as you shriek “Goo goo ga ga gaaah!” through the endless waves.
“One…”
The last pathetic squirt oozes out just as she reaches zero. You collapse forward, forehead on the floor, diaper sagging low and ruined, a warm, sticky, utterly destroyed mess between your trembling thighs.
She laughs, bright and cruel.
“Good baby. Look at that pathetic little cream-pie you made in your pampers. All because you watched a real man fuck Mommy.”
You’re still huffing and puffing, chest heaving, face burning as the post-nut fog rolls in and the full weight of what you just did crashes over you. She just smiles wider, savoring every second of your shame.
“And speaking of cream pies…”
Her legs part slowly, revealing the glistening mess between them—his thick load already starting to ooze out in slow, sticky strands down her crack and into her ass.. She crooks a finger at you, beckoning with a lazy, commanding flick.
Her thighs fall open like theater curtains. Thick, pearly ropes of the bull’s load are already sliding out of her, dripping down her swollen lips, over her asshole She crooks one finger.
“You have cleanup duty, baby girl. Get that tongue in there and lick every last drop of Daddy’s cum out of Mommy like the good little cucky you are. Then, when Mommy’s all nice and sparkly clean, you’re gonna crawl over to Daddy, open that pretty mouth, and give him the sloppiest, most desperate sucky-sucky you can manage until he’s rock-hard and ready to fuck me again.”
Sow and Tell
"Please lift your skirt and show the group what’s underneath, Lisa."
The classroom fell silent. Lisa’s fingers trembled as she pinched the hem of her pink tutu, her cheeks already flushed with embarrassment. She wasn’t like the other girls in Bunny Class—most of them wore pull-ups, thin and discreet, easy to hide under their little skirts. But not Lisa. Not anymore.
Her teacher, Miss Harper, stood with her arms crossed, her voice sweet but firm. "Go on, dear. We’re all friends here."
Lisa swallowed hard, her pacifier bobbing between her lips. She knew what was under her skirt. She knew everyone would see. But she also knew she didn’t have a choice.
With a shaky breath, she lifted the layers of tulle, revealing the thick, crinkly bulk of her diaper. It was white, adorned with building blocks and already a faint yellow, proof she’d used it at least once today. The plastic backing rustled loudly as she shifted, the sound echoing in the quiet room.
A few giggles erupted from the girls still in pull-ups. "Eww, Lisa, you’re such a baby!" one teased, her own pull-up barely visible under her shirt.
Lisa’s face burned. She wanted to argue, to say she wasn’t a baby, that she didn’t want to wear this. But the words died in her throat. Because deep down, she knew the truth. She had wet herself during storytime. She had needed the extra thickness, the security of something that wouldn’t leak when she forgot to use the potty. And worst of all, she liked how it felt. The way it hugged her, the way it made her waddle when she walked, the way it reminded her she didn’t have to worry about accidents anymore.
Miss Harper smiled, stepping closer. "Very good, Lisa. Now, let’s all clap for Lisa for being such a brave girl."
The class clapped half-heartedly, some girls whispering behind their hands. Lisa let her skirt fall, her fingers curling into the fabric. She could feel the warmth between her legs, the way the padding had already started to sag with use. She shifted again, and the crinkle was even louder this time.
"Lisa has been doing so well with her unpotty training," Miss Harper announced, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "She doesn’t even need the potty anymore, do you, dear?"
Lisa shook her head, her pacifier slipping from her mouth. "N-no, Miss Harper."
"Good girl." The teacher patted her head like she was a toddler. "And because you’re such a good little girl now, you’ll be moving to the Chicks Class tomorrow."
Lisa’s stomach dropped. Chicks Class? That was for the girls who were even more regressed, the ones who wore diapers all the time, who got changed on the table in front of everyone, who didn’t even try to use the potty anymore. Some of them couldn’t even walk anymore!
Her eyes stung. "B-but I don’t wanna…"
"Lisa," Miss Harper’s voice was sharp now, cutting her off. "This is not up for discussion. You need this." She gestured to Lisa’s diaper. "You’re already using it like a good girl."
Lisa’s bottom lip wobbled. She could feel it, the warmth expanding into the diaper. She had used it again, just a little, while she was standing there. Without noticing.
A tear slipped down her cheek.
"Aw, don’t cry, Lisa," Miss Harper cooed, but there was no real sympathy in her voice. "You’ll love Chicks Class. And who knows? Maybe you’ll even make some new friends who also like filling their diapers."
The class giggled again. Lisa’s hands clenched into fists. She wanted to scream, to run, to prove she wasn’t just a baby. But then her belly cramped, and she gasped, her knees pressing together.
No. No, not now.
But it was too late.
The mushiness spread between her legs, thick and embarrassing. The diaper did its job, swelling around her, the scent of baby powder barely masking what she’d done. Lisa’s face burned as she realized, everyone could see it. The way her diaper sagged, the way she instinctively rocked her hips.
Miss Harper didn’t even bat an eye. "Oh dear. Looks like someone’s ready for a change." She turned to the class. "Lisa certainly filled her diaper, didn’t you, sweetheart?"
Lisa nodded miserably, fresh tears streaming down her face.
"Good girl," Miss Harper said again, patting her head. "Tomorrow, you’ll be with the other Chicks. And I’m sure you’ll fit right in."
Lisa didn’t answer. She couldn’t. Because as much as she hated it, as much as she wanted to be anywhere else, she knew Miss Harper was right.
She was a baby now.
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This photo is an automatic reblog every time I come across it. It’s exactly the type of baby boy I would love to be lol
Daddy having his friends over can be so tiring. Sometimes it’s too much and I’m finding myself almost falling asleep on the floor.
It begins when daddy dresses me up in the most babyish way that he can. It means a huge diaper butt, double diapered and stuffed. Then over it, my favorite printed skunk onesie and a tight overall that his friends wouldn’t miss my juvenile giant padding. He prepares the living room with my playing mat and all my favorite toys that he chose for me.
When the doorbell rings and they’re coming in, I feel my cheeks flushing red from the embarrassment. These older men are going to treat me like I’m no older than two years old. I hate it but I’m getting a stiffy in my diaper.
They’re greeting me by caressing my head, patting my back, hugging me, then they are off to say hello to daddy. One by one they are taking turns playing with me. One stands over me, baby talks to me, and makes me beg for my pacifier back. One sits by me and tells me what colors should I use for my coloring book. Another takes me into his lap and feeds me a bottle. I notice all of them are having a hard-on and touching themselves as they are playing with me. My stiffy hurts.
It becomes so late and I’m so tired. Daddy and his friends are talking and laughing, touching each other, kissing each other, while I sit on the floor, watching the men being men. They are starting to take off their clothes and move to the bedroom. I was their appetizer, just an early treat, now they are moving to the real meal. My peepee hurts so bad. I want to join them, but I can’t. Daddy says I’m not a man enough to have sex anymore. I take my trusted dog plushie to hold and lay on the floor. I’m so tired and daddy wouldn’t be available to put me to bed anytime soon. I might just take a little nap while moans come from the bedroom.
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@kinkpup4luck will just have to ignore his stiffy. You can find him on Twitter - @pup_skunk (click on the handle to get there)
Im A Very Soggy Boy 🧷🍼 Pampers LittleForBig ABDry
I need more of my life LITERALLY trapped in thick soaked diapers.
Little boy has special talents.
https://twitter.com/SouthseaPup/status/1613078755064401920
she loves watching try to stay still, but each smack hurts his ass and gives an even more painful tug on his balls😈😈😈😈
Padded up- I won’t need to set you free any time soon…
Look how happy Freddy is. Just a few short weeks ago he was a cheeky chappy, who loved nothing more than nights out with his friends.
Now, after Freddy pissed off an amateur hypnotist on a night out, he finds himself regressed to the mindset of a two year old.
Sadly now for Freddy, he’s no longer a cheeky chappy. He’s now a cheeky chappy in his nappy.
Hehe sitting in mah wet and messy diapee
I think it’s super cute when boys wet their pants 😶. It’s like their begging to be put back In diapers. Heh I know I am 😀😁💦
I found out that an ex of mine was a DL. We got a chance to hang out a little bit and burn through a whole pack of Tranquility ATNs!