#slime diaper

[blushy-stuff-idk]

Slime Diaper Part 8

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Previous Part

"I dunno. Yow Fwend." You don't like the idea of bringing in another person to see you uncontrollably potty in your dipee, but Mommy seems worried. You tell yourself again that it's Mary, not Mommy, but it feels wrong, and requires extra care to say. Even the word 'diaper' keeps slipping into 'diapee' if you're not careful. You hope that this isn't a permanent change to your vocabulary.

Mommy is on the phone for a long time in her bedroom while you watch more cartoons. The windows remain wide open and the air only faintly smells like baby stuff. You hear her laugh often and wonder what her friend is talking to her about. Are they laughing about you? You look down at yourself, you're sitting on the floor with your legs splayed, amid a mass of gelatinous slime and runny shit shaped like a seamless pink diaper and your mouth is crammed full of a slimy spurting penis.Who wouldn't laugh at you?

You mess yourself three times and swallow countless more mouthfuls of yummy cummies before her bedroom door finally opens. She sits behind you on the couch and writes in her journal. As she logs everything that happened she rests one of her hands on your head and pets you gently. You don't think she even knows she's doing it. It feels nice. The only sound for a while is the scratch of a pen, the turning of her pages, and your cartoons.

It would be a perfectly peaceful moment if not for the extreme diaper rash that burned and itched against all your most sensitive bits. Every so often you try to scratch or rub, but all you do is smoosh more mess onto yourself. You can't stop thinking about how nice it would be to wear normal dry breathable underwear again. At least babies got diaper changes once in a while. Even when your dipee hadn't been soiled it felt wet and slimy.

more mess fills your diaper with a long wet squelching noise. You wince and blush. Mommy doesn't react. She must be used to it. You wonder why it no longer rewards you. For now it's nice that you aren't spasming on the floor every 30 seconds, but you feel a dreadful premonition about the future. How long can you go without any sexual stimulation at all? A week? Two weeks? What if this thing keeps you from ever feeling anything sexual for months?

A knock at the door breaks your train of thought...something that's been very easy to do lately. You slump down and hug your knees. You don't want to meet this friend, You don't want anyone to see you. You suck hard on your pacifier to calm yourself.

"Lily! Thanks for coming over, I hope you didn't have trouble getting off of work!" Mommy says

"Oh it no problem at all. My boss is a pushover. Fuck, I could probably get away with a full sabbatical if I wanted." Mommy's friend has a deep voice, but it's bright and friendly.

You hear the rustling of paper bags and something being set on the floor in the kitchen.

"Do you need me to help you carry anything else in?" Mommy asks.

"Oh no, this is it! But let's set this thing up right away. Safety first!"

Mommy walks into your field of view, her friend is carrying a large air purifier, which she plugs into the wall and sets to high. The first thing you notice about her is her height. Not only is about six feet tall on her own, but she's extremely goth. She's wearing black knee-high platform boots, a little black skirt and fishnets.

She stand and turns, seeing you for the first time. Her smile is framed by black lipstick and white foundation.

She rushes over, beaming a bright smile, bends at the waist and pinches your cheek. "Oh nooo! The pheromones have got me! All I see is a little cutie-patootie!"

You pull away from her sudden barrage, but can't keep a smile from forming on your face.

"We're gonna have fun together, yes we are!" She presses a finger against your pacifier. "Boop!" You're not sure if she's treating you like a baby as a joke, or if she means it.

She straightens and turns to Mommy. "You were right, definitely firmly attached to that pacifier! Honestly if something that eats shit coughed out a slimy pacifier I wouldn't exactly be slurping it up!"

Mary laughs. "Oh, it definitely wasn't enjoyable, but now every time I take it out and turn around I find it back in a few seconds later!"

"Well it suits her. If she finds it comforting, who am I to judge?" She covers her mouth as if she just swore and turns back to you. "Is She/her correct?"

You freeze and think for a moment. Was it right? You were just told your name this morning...what was it?

"There's a bit of an identity crisis happening at the moment." Mommy says helpfully. "There's a whole lot of confusion on that front."

"Noted! I've definitely been there before!" She bends at the waist again and puts a hand on your shoulder. "I'm gonna use she/her 'cause you're such an adorable little babygirl with your pink diaper! But you just let me know if you ever want to change it up, okay?"

You nod and swallow more cummies.

She turns to Mommy. "Alright girl, go off to work before you get any more late! We've got this!"

"Thank you again so much! You're a life safer! I'll check in when I can!" Mommy says hurriedly.

A minute later and you're alone in the apartment with Lily.

"So, Introduction from my side....I'm Lily" She waves "Hi! I guess I'm really here because Mary likes me and knows I've seen this kind of stuff before." She holds up her hands palms out. "Not weird diaper parasite things, but y'know...ageplay, sissybabies, diapercucks, piss play, scat play, Mommydom stuff...y'know...the standard things clients would want. Pretty sure this falls under some form of 'forced regression' type of thing."

She cocks her head. "Are you into forced regression at all?"

You shake your head no emphatically. You don't even know what most of the things she listed are.

"That's a shame. At least you'd be kinda getting off to this. Since you're having an identity crisis, we'll skip your introduction. Mary's told me enough anyway."

You suck down more cum, relieved that you don't have to talk like a baby in front of her.

She bends over, lowering herself to your level. "I brought you some stuff, want to see?" She asks with a big smile.

You're not sure if she's being patronizing or if she thinks you're really a toddler mentally. You nod anyway.

"Great!" She walks to the kitchen. You hear the fridge open and close twice. When she returns it's with a paper grocery bag from the kitchen.

"First, a little device that will let you drink without spilling, no matter how clumsy your mittens make you!" She takes out a big baby bottle and sets it on the coffee table. It's definitely adult-sized and the nipple is at least three inches long. It's also been pre-filled with milk.

"Sorry, that's the only drink she had in the fridge. It's appropriate at least." She says.

She puts a hand into the bag "And I brought some entertainment!" She sets out a few boxes of crayons and some coloring books. The books look partially used, probably by her ex-clients.

Crayons and a bottle of milk. Great. How exciting. You feel a sudden urge to throw the bottle across the room and scatter the crayons.

She notices your lack of positive reaction.

"Well, you name a better activity you can do with your mittens! I thought you may as well scribble a bit and be able to drink whenever you want."

As embarrassing as it is, you do at least recognize the gesture. But it's so patronizing and humiliating and stupid!

You could go either way...

She's being nice! Calm down, color a bit, and show her you appreciate the bottle

Hit the crayons! You're NOT a baby! You're big! She doesn't GET it!

Voting ended onJul 11

[blushy-stuff-idk]

Slime Diaper Part 12

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Why should they get all the fun? It's not fair! If they get to do what they want then you should too! You fumble with your Binky's condom until it pops off, spilling onto your chest, then you pop it into your mouth.

In an instant it locks itself in place. It throbs and pulses, beginning the transmutation of your saliva into the deliciously rich elixir you've come to crave. It's comforting enough to offset the discomfort of your plug.

What Mommy will say when she sees you is a problem for future-you. Anyway it's her fault for not including you!

You curl up on the rubber mattress, pull your blanket around you and quickly fall asleep. In your dream you're nursing on Mama endlessly while she pets you lovingly.

"Well well well."

You open your eyes and see Mama standing over the crib. She's holding two empty wine glasses and wearing nothing but a T-shirt. Her hair is a mess and her makeup is smudged.

She looks down at you, the disappointment is visible on her face. From your position near the floor you can see her pretty cock under her shirt.

Mommy joins her.

"Aw, I thought she had more self control than this!"

"Me too...I was hoping she'd be a good girl and resist the urge."

Mommy pulled the pacifier from your mouth and shakes her head.

Once again they're talking ABOUT you, like you're nothing but a baby to them! Your temper flares. "Thith ith thtupid, Mommy! You get to have fun and eat peetha! And dwink wine! I'm no' a baby! I wanna be in thewe with you and Mama too! I'm an Adult!"

There's silence for a few seconds. Your complaint is severely undercut by your babyish pronunciation and the usage of 'Mommy' and 'Mama'.

"All done? Feel better?" Mama asks. "Last I checked you came here for help. We're doing our best to take care of you, and now you're making demands? Interrupting our date?"

Mommy holds up your paci. "This is how your diaper is rewarding you for being a baby. All you had to do was NOT use it so your diaper would edge as a reward instead."

"I remember!" You say hotly. She's scolding you like you're a fussy infant! You hate it.

"Do you remember? The plan was for you to always be wetting so your diaper would always be edging you. To make it tired and weak. When is the last time you've tinkled in your pamper?"

"Um...A whio ago. I-I'm sowwy.

Mommy places her palm against the front of your diaper. "Wet then. Wet now." Her voice is cold and threatening.

Behind her, Mama removes something with straps from her paper bag, she removes something else that clicks against the granite countertop.

You actually feel afraid. Your bladder releases. And mommy smiles at the hissing noise that fills the room. "Open your little mouth."

You open your mouth and something is jammed unceremoniously into your mouth. it's long, rigid, and smells of rubber.

"AAIGHMMM!" You cry in surprise. You try to spit out the invader but the straps of the dildo gag are being secured firmly behind your head by Mama.

There's a long rubber tube running from the gag to a large red enema bag. Mama opens the bag and poors your bottle into it. A trickle of bitter milky liquid begins to enter the back of your throat. She fills the bag up the rest of the way with warm tap water, then hangs it from a nearby hook on the wall. The flowrate increases and now you're constantly swallowing big gulps of the bitter liquid.

Mama then walks to the counter and picks up a large wooden paddle. It's thick and looks very heavy.

Mommy stands you up, and gently turns you, bending you over the playpen's railing.

"You know you were naughty don't you?" She strokes your cheek and the heavy paddle presses gently against your bottom.

"Mmm!" You nod your head enthusiastically.

"And you're very sorry?"

"MMMMMMPH" You try to protest and communicate how sorry you are.

"Then this will be a very easy lesson for you to learn." She uses a hand to make you look her in the eye. She raises a finger. "First. In this house you will be a good girl and do what we say."

The paddle connects with your diaper so hard your feet momentarily leave the ground. You shriek a muffled scream into your gag. Formula sprays from around the gag and runs down your face. The large paddle is connecting with both your cheeks and your plug with every blow.

"Second. You WILL wet your diaper every second you are able to. If you ever notice you're not wetting, and you don't immediately try to wet...then there'll be consequences."

Another spank connects with the sound of a thunderclap. You choke and cough on the constant flow of formula. You're struggling to breathe, scream, and swallow all at the same time.

"Third. Until you conduct yourself like an adult you ARE a baby. We've observed you and it's painfully obvious that you are a baby. No emotional regulation. No willpower. Not an ounce of maturity. No manner of self control at all...like a baby. We're just supplying the discipline and structure you won't admit you need."

Another spank, even harder than the last one has you seeing stars. You sag limply, supported by the railing. Your bottom is on fire and the plug hurts like it did when it was first inserted. You're not sure what hurts more though, the spanking or the complete obliteration of your pride.

The bag has emptied and the flow has stopped. Your stomach feels swollen and full despite all the formula that you've coughed all over yourself.

Mama and mommy lower you into your little playpen bed. Mama disconnects the tube from your gag while Mommy wipes you clean with a towel.

"Sorry we had to do that, sweetie. But if you don't obey us, you'll never get out of your diaper! You do want to someday grow up and be a big girl, don't you?"

You nod and she wipes your tear-stained cheeks.

"Then you have to be a good little girl and do what you're told. If Lily or I say 'no paci' we mean it. If we say it's nap time, then it's nap time. Understand?"

Mama dabs more tears from your eyes. Whether or not you want it, no matter what you do, they see you as a baby and you're powerless to do anything about it. "Now what does a good girl do?"

You force yourself to relax and wet yourself a little bit more.

"Good girl."

They both kiss you goodnight, kiss your forehead and retire to the apartment's only bedroom.

You distantly hear them talking and giggling from Mommy's room as you force yourself to wet a tiny bit again.

You tinkle a little bit dozens of times before you finally manage to sleep.

When you wake up it's still dark outside. The apartment is completely silent, and your bottom aches. You feel so uncomfortably bloated. All of yesterday's meals, still affected by your heavy diet of laxatives , are piling up behind your plug. The pressure building up in you is incredible. You can feel your body straining and pushing against the plug.

It feels like you are about to potty, desperately needing to potty, and yet far too constipated to potty all at once.

As if that weren't enough your jaw and throat ache. The hard rubber of the gag isn't soft or ergonomic like the realistic feel of your pacifier.

You CAN'T go back to sleep like this!

You decide to

Suffer through it all night.

Wake Mommy. Tell her your tummy hurts. Act baby-like for sympathy.

Try to remove your gag and see if the couch is more comfortable.

Voting ended onJul 13

[blushy-stuff-idk]

Slime Diaper Part 10

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Previous Part

Your eyes slowly adjust to the darkness under her black skirt. In the grey haze you can see her penis laying there, waiting for you to use it if you wish. Sucking a penis-like pacifier that has given you a chemical addiction is one thing...willingly sucking a real person is a completely different thing. You hyper-fixate on the object just inches from your face. The smell isn't like the sweaty, musky, and manly smell your paci produces. It's milder, softer, and sweeter.

Your breath quickens at the conundrum in front of you and you start to spiral, judging your actions and thoughts. 'Why are you even considering this? What's wrong with you? You're crazy! You don't need this!' You want it so bad, and you're disgusted that you want it.

"Ssssh baby. It's okay." Lily coos.

Her hand presses gently against the back of your head. That's all it takes to push you over the edge. You open your mouth and ever so gently take her between your lips.

"There you go. Just latch, baby. ssssshhhh." It's like it's not even sexual for her. She's just calming you like an actual infant! Your cheeks burn bright red. Despite all your inhibitions and pride, the soft whispering cooing is working.

It's so different from your pacifier. Instead of hard plastic, your face is buried in soft, warm, smooth skin that moves slightly as she breathes. her pubic area is so soft...and warm...even her shrunken scrotum is feels soft and comforting.

Covered completely by the blanket and her skirt, your breath slows, and you begin to notice the subtle smell of baby powder and lavender, but you're far too sleepy to do anything about it. You're giving in, falling even deeper into whatever rabbit hole this is, and your mind is powerless to even comprehend the concept of resisting.

The last of your inhibitions fades to an inaudible whisper as you begin to suckle. She's so soft...so warm...and she has such a pleasant mild mild flavor. You're fully latched, suckling sleepily, and swallowing the little salty droplets she's making for you, and that's the last thing you remember before the physical world transitions into a soft pastel dream.

...

"Wakey wakey, little one." Your dream fills with light and then melts away as she lifts up her skirt. You open your eyes and blink, adjusting to the light. Your dream had been so vivid, but it's fading away so fast. It had something to do with words? You were finding words? Or were you trying to save them? The more fresh air you breath the harder it is to remember the dream. It had all seemed so important. You feel like you were struggling to maybe remember something?

Mama shifts and sits up. You reflexively whimper as her cock pulls from your mouth with a wet pop. You realize that both your face and her crotch are slick with your drool, although if Mama thinks that's gross she doesn't show it.

"Somebody was such a little sleepy-head!" she says and wipes your face with a tissue. She helps you to a sitting position. She tussles your hair and then stands, her skirt drops to cover her beautiful and delicious peepee

Mama? Peepee? You know those aren't the right words, but they just fit. What other words were there?

She looks down at you and purses her lips, as if she's thinking. Then she reaches forward and pokes at your chest.

"Ow! Why-" You begin.

"Nipples feeling a little tender? More sensitive than you remember?" She asks with a smile.

"Y-yeeaah.." You hadn't really noticed until now, but they were a little sore.

She puts her hands on her hips. "I thought I recognized the first bits of budding."

She turns and lowers her skirt and panties enough for you to see a patch stuck to her lower back. "This is my estrogen patch." Then she turns back to you and places her hand against your diaper "And it appears that this is yours."

"Y-you mean-"

She sits beside you and wraps an arm around you. "Your body is going to start seeing some changes, baby. But don't worry. I'm sure we'll have that thing off you well before you see anything drastic."

You look at her soft round breasts, the soft round curves, and remember her delicate little peepee. Were those changes bad? Were you really supposed to be scared or upset right now?

"I-I'm not worried, Mama." You say softly.

"Good Girl." She kisses the top of your head.

You feel the need to pee and decide to just let it go and hope she doesn't notice. Unfortunately the tender moment is ruined by your dipee coming back to life, rewarding you for going potty.

"Oh!" You press your hands against the front of your diaper, and Mama holds you as you rock back and forth, panting and moaning until you feel almost feverish with the need to cum, then the sensations stop.

"Looks like Mary and I were right." She says. "You just have to keep your pacifier out and it'll reward you a different way...but we've been texting and there's one more thing you have to do, are you ready?"

You nod.

"You have to go potty as often as possible. We're going to trick your diaper and put it on a diet. If it uses energy to reward you, then your job is to basically never stop going number one, okay? If you ever feel anything in your bladder, let it out. If you remember you haven't tinkled in the last five seconds, then you should be trying to tinkle."

"Only for peepee?" You ask

"Yes. There's practically no nutrients in urine according to Mary. It's probably getting most of its nutrients from your number twos. So if you can keep it expending energy, while limiting its feeding then it should eventually starve to death, or drop off of you to search for a better host."

Something didn't add up. You HAD to eat, which meant that you'd HAVE to feed your diaper.

"H-how do I limit that? I have to eat!"

"Mary and I have been brainstorming, and there's two ways. One of them is to try an all liquid diet. It'll mean less poop, and way more urine. Which may sound awful, but you'd be able to feed yourself." She motions toward the empty baby bottle.

"And the other way?"

"We do something like how Mary accidentally gave your diaper the thought of a pacifier. Something like a big butt plug that only comes out at certain times. That way you can hold in bowl movements longer...it would be very uncomfortable though."

"How big of a plug?" you ask tentatively.

"Oh, pretty big. It'd have to hold back a lot of pressure. And, full disclosure: if you use a big enough plug often enough, it may cause some incontinence issues later."

She pauses you let you think.

"So which will it be, sweetie?"

"Can we just do the liquid diet for now?"

"It sounds really scary, but I think we should try the butt-plug."

"Can...um...Can we do both?"

Voting ended onJul 12

[blushy-stuff-idk]

Slime Diaper Part 15

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You freeze in front of your phone. What do you do? Would she understand why you're in here with your phone? Surely she'd understand that you have a career and responsibilities. You can't take a video call right now, obviously but maybe she can help you send a valid excuse.

She exits the shower. She surprises you by having a towel wrapped around her hair, but nothing below. Her skin is damp and glistening. Every part of her is stunning. You couldn't appreciate it in the dim light last night, but her work as a ranger has made her lithe and strong. She's stunning.

"Something wrong baby?"

Your brain does a mental hiccup, for a moment you struggle to say what you intended.

"Why are you in the kitchen? Do you want another bottle?

"Um, N-no Mommy. I-uh My wowk phone rang... I mean wang."

Her eyebrows go up. "I didn't know babies had work phones."

This isn't going how you thought it would. "It'th my wowk. M-my both cawwed." God you hate having to do this baby lisp.

"So work called and it was your boss? On your work phone that baby owns?" She shifts her weight and puts a hand on one hip. "What did your boss want?"

"A bideo caw."

"Oh my." she shifts her weight to the other leg. You try not to glance at her breasts as they swing slightly. "What a lot of adult things to happen to a baby!"

"Mommy. Pweathe, tektht my both an ekthcuthe."

She brushes an errant hair from her face. "So my baby got a work call from her boss at her career, and needs her mommy to send a text so she can continue having a career? Because she's really an adult with adult responsibilities and not a baby?"

She's going to refuse. You know it. This is insane! She's not living in reality! You have to snap her out of it! What was her name again? M-...not Mommy...Mer, Mir, Mar-

"Mary... Please. This isn't fun. I can't lose my job. Please just tell him I'm sick or in the hospital or something. Just do this, and I'll go back to being whatever you want me to be."

She walks to the table, picks up her phone, and sends a quick text. Then sighs. "Fine. I'll text him. Then you're going to be the sweetest most obedient baby girl. Okay?"

You exhale with relief. "Oh thank God. Thank you so much."

She picks up your phone and opens teams. She types for a bit, hits send and places it on the counter. You lean over to see what she's written and the bottom drops out of your stomach.

Hi! Sorry I can't make it in. I've decided to hone a new skill set that involves filling big fluffy diapers with peepee and poopies and then cumming my brains out in my own mess.

Attached is a video. From the thumbnail you know exactly what it is, but she presses play anyway.

There you are, writhing and thrusting in your diaper, mounted atop a plastic pink potty, screaming and gasping in ecstasy over how much you (apparently) get off on messy diapers. The more you look at it the worse it gets. Your penis-paci is bouncing against your chest, the cum-filled condom flopping obscenely. Mommy had unbeknownst to you changed your diaper yet again and now it says 'Mommy's Potty Princess' and depicts yet another cute cartoon version of you, this time smiling happily atop a little pink potty.

You feel like you're going to throw up. Your boss starts to type, and then the message appears. "Best of luck with your future ambitions." You're too shocked to move or speak. Your job is gone, just like that.

Mommy turns your phone off, walks across the kitchen, opens the lid to the recycling bin, and drops your phone inside. Then turns to you. "I held up my end of the bargain. I texted your boss, now you have to hold up your end of the bargain."

She strokes your cheek. "I'm sorry. you might think that was harsh, but that's exactly what I said would happen when I talked to you this morning. No more adult things. At all. If there's an adult action or influence in your life making you feel like you're an adult Mama and I won't hesitate to eliminate it."

She goes to the living room, turns on the TV, and switches the channel to a cartoon for preschoolers. "I know you'll be upset, but it's best to distract yourself with more age-appropriate work. Do some coloring while you watch cartoons. I insist."

Your mouth is still open. Your job and responsibilities are gone! Your income! Your money! You don't have money for the upcoming rent payment, your apartment might as well have gone too!

"Baby...What do we say?"

Naturally:

You force out a "Yeth Mommy, Tank you Mommy."

You lose it. "What the fuck?! Are you ACTUALLY insane?!"

There's too many emotions all at once! You can't help it! you have a tantrum!

Voting ended onJul 15

[blushy-stuff-idk]

I usually start writing the next part once there are about 20 votes to make sure that I'm writing the winning choice... And I've been told I'm not gonna get a new diaper until I post the next part.

I'm not usually one to ask for reblogs...but the one I'm wearing is getting really heavy and cold.

[blushy-stuff-idk]

Slime Diaper Part 14

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You're practically ignored until Mama is out the door. Then, when you have Mommy's full attention you push the bottle away from you. "Mommy, I can't drink it until I go potty! If you let me make poopies-" You freeze, make poopies? when had you ever said that before? You try to regain your momentum. "I-I mean...do...you know...I'll happily drink my baba."

She smirks. "Okay, you want to start bargaining...I can accept that. Unfortunately I only deal in a single currency." She walks to the counter and picks up the paddle. Just seeing it makes your bottom sting. She places it on the table in front of you.

"Now let's deal. How many spanks is your bottle worth to you? Would you drink it for 5? What about 50? I might get tired, but I'm willing to go as high as possible."

She looks down at you, and in her eyes you see a similar smolder that you've already come to fear.

Slowly, you reach out, pick up your baba, and begin to suck the bitter milk down.

She smirks. "Aw, giving me an empty bottle? For free? You must have actually really wanted your milkies this morning!"

She strokes your cheek. Her tone changes to one of soft matronly love. "See it's exactly this kind of thing that is making it harder to help you! All this pride. All this self respect and desire to fight us at every step." Mommy sighs. "By trying to act like an adult...again...you've actually made me agree with Mama."

"Agree about what?" You didn't like where this was going.

"Your ego is only getting in the way, so it needs regular maintenance to keep it from interfering with your treatment. The best way to do that, is by expanding rules and setting clear expectations. You know that we're trying to help, but we need you to actually help us help you, understand?"

You slowly nod. "What are you trying to say?"

She sighs. "Until now our rules and punishments have just happened to align with very infantilizing things based on fucking crazy circumstances, we would just be expanding those rules and punishments. To keep you obedient. You understand?"

"Expanding how?" You ask. You have a sinking feeling in your stomach that this is not going to be anything pleasant for you.

"Early this morning Mama went out and got a special tool for you. I'm surprised you haven't noticed it yet."

You scan the room. There's nothing in the dining area, the kitchen, or the Living-" You're in total shock. There, in the middle of the living room is a child's training potty! It's so little that you would be practically squatting instead of sitting on it.

"That's where you'll be 'making poopies' as you put it." She says. Your mouth will also be soaped for adult language, you will have maintenance spankings on top of regular spankings, and you will do everything we say the instant we say it with a 'Yes Mommy' or a 'Yes Mama.' You are going to live as our baby because it's what is best for you. And we will now start to actively make you act at an age level that best fits you. Understand, sweetie?"

Your mind is racing. This is a living nightmare. "This is crazy!" You exclaim. "I'm not using a baby potty!"

"For this single instance, because these are new rules, I will give you a second chance to respond correctly. After this chance, any other outburst will end with you sucking a soapy dildo gag and choking down a feeding bag full of soapy water." She says it factually and without anger.

You open your mouth to say any one of a million things. You shut your mouth. You open it again to say any one of a hundred things, then close it again. When you open it a third time it's to say the only thing you can say.

"Yes Mommy."

"Again. With your baby-lisp." She's smiling, the smolder in her eyes tells you that she's testing you.

"Yeth Mommy."

"Much better. I'll expect you to keep that lisp until it's natural to you. Wouldn't that be adorable?"

"Yeth Mommy." You're red with humiliation and your eyes are on the floor. You started this conversation with an effort to bargain, and now you've lost everything!

"Very good! In fact, now that breakfast is done, I've decided you can make your poopies a little early! What do you say to that?"

The last thing you want to do is sit on a stupid plastic potty, but you choke out a "Fank You, Mommy."

She leads you by the hand to your latest and greatest humiliation. As you sit, the slime squelches and oozes through your cheeks and around your penis. The slippery cold slime that wasn't in contact with your skin is pressed against you and you shiver.

"Now, why don't you ask nicely for what you want, baby?"

You're on the very edge of tears. In some alternate universe you returned from an uneventful backpacking trip, played some video games, and went back to your nine-to-five....that could be you...instead of being a forcefully regressed baby, making poopies into a dipee like a toddler that doesn't know to remove their padding before sitting down.

You fight back the crying and stammer out "M-May I pweathe make poopieth on my potty, Mommy?"

She holds up a cell phone and you know Mama will be watching this later. "You may."

The slime invisibly shifts, you feel a sucking, slurping pull at your plug. "Oh! OOOH!" The stretching sensation is incredible and painful. You grip the sides of your potty and gasp as the widest point passes your bottom and your hole closes rapidly on the rubber taper, expelling it from your body.

The poopies feel endless, Your stomach cramps and deflates as the loudest wettest farts rip from you. Hot mush fills the crack of your bottom, then the front of your diaper. Your gasping, straining, and panting as you deflate and your diaper expands visibly.

Then, it rewards you.

"AAAH! OH! Oh Mommyyyy!" The slime is taking advantage of your gaping bottom with a nearly four-inch diameter tendril. It's pumping in and out of you like a piston while a sucking mass of slime swirls around the head of your penis.

You're thrusting and grinding against your mittened hands, rocking back and forth on your potty, and gasping madly for air. Tears are running down your face, but you don't know if they're tears of joy or shame.

You're going to cum! You're only a millisecond away!

The diaper returns to an inert gelatinous slime. You want to scream, swear, rant at how unfair this is, and hit something in your frustration and rage, but all you do is pant limply. You don't have any energy left.

Then you feel the plug moving, the tip of it gliding up between your cheeks as it returns to it's home inside you.

You only barely have enough consciousness left to remember that you need to lisp as you cry out, "No! Pweathe Mommy! No pwug! Not yet! Wet me have Jutht one minute! Pweeeath-AH!"

The plug has reached your sore, stretched, and badly abused hole, and has begun pushing into you now. Somehow, even though you only just had it in, it still hurts to take. you're squealing and babbling incoherently as the surprisingly strong ooze slowly and effortlessly pushes it into you.

You're gripping your potty and kicking your legs as it nears the widest part, and then with an audible 'slurp' your body pulls the rest of the mass into yourself.

The diaper goes inert.

Mommy guides you to the couch and you collapse on her lap. She strokes your head and talks, but you don't hear any of the sweet supportive things she's saying. You've had more sensations in the last ten minutes than you would want in a week. you fall asleep suckling at her finger, just like a baby. Her baby.

You must have slept for hours. You awake to a sound that fills you with ice-cold fear. It's your phone, still on the counter where it had been placed days ago. It's ringing, and based on the Teams ringtone it's definitely work related.

Mommy is in the shower. This is all up to you.

Waddling with your full diaper and stuffed bottom, you reach your phone. As suspected, it's your boss. He's trying to video-call you! You glance momentarily down at yourself, as if the penis-binky and sagging diaper might be concealable, then you press the button to deny the call.

The shower water turns off. "Baby? Are you awake?" Mommy calls sweetly.

You:

Silence your phone and don't tell Mommy. Work can just wait.

Ask Mommy to message an excuse to your boss

Tell Mommy you have a work call, ask her to help you look adult again for it

Voting ended onJul 15

[blushy-stuff-idk]

Slime Diaper Part 6

Vote for what happens next!

Previous part

You join Mary at the dining table, wincing as you sit. At least your soiled diaper makes for an effective cushion.

"Once again, I am SO sorry."

Martha has a notebook open and has already filled a page with hastily written notes. She's practically vibrating with excitement.

The windows have all been opened and the air is starting to clear, as is your head. You can't believe you spent all day watching cartoons without even noticing that the fruity smell was somehow limiting your mental faculties. It was a correlation Mary noticed immediately.

"Tell me, what you were doing about when you first encountered this thing?"

You motion to your pacifier and swallow more cum.

"Oh, right, I forgot about that." She gingerly pulls in the ring and it effortlessly slips from your mouth.

You stretch your jaw and taste fresh clean air for the first time that day. Your mouth feels weirdly empty and numb.

You clear your throat. "Ah wath sheeping." You blush at your toddler-like lisp. You rub your throat and try again, focusing hard on your pronunciation. "Ai wath sweepig."

"Interesting." She writes a few more sentences. "Mouth and throat numb?"

You nod. You're trying to remain calm. This had better not be permanent.

"Don't worry, feeling should come back within an hour. I'd wager that your binky secretes some kind of topical anaesthetic."

"Back to my original hypothesis though, what were you dreaming about?"

You shrug. You rarely remember your dreams, especially when you happen to wake up with slime monsters in your bed.

"Hmm. Say the first word that comes into your mind as quickly as you can. Do not hesitate." She pauses and waits for you to prepare yourself. "Baby"

"Giwl." You hate everything about how you sound.

"Babygirl diapers are:.."

"Pink" At least you could say that one correctly.

"Babysmell"

"Fwoot."

She laughs. "Why do you think that? You must not know much about babies."

"Becuth babieth aw shtikey n methy." You say. "I dunno wha they thmew wike."

"Personally, I think of a mix of baby powder, lavender scented wipes, and stale urine, but that's just me."

She writes for a bit then turns her attention back to you. "So...If I'm right, your diaper appears to be some kind of parasitic corprophage with some kind of low level telepathic ability. You were asleep in your tent when it either saw a baby in your dream or skimmed your subconscious to learn what you expect a baby to look like, then it latched onto you and has been trying to camoflage itself in ways that make you look and smell like your expectations of a baby. Unfortunately you know nearly nothing of babies, so it looks more like fetish stuff than an actual diaper."

"buh whya baybe?" You ask.

"Looking like babies is way more common in nature than you might think. This kinda reminds me of a species of caterpillar that emits pheromones to make ants think it's an ant larvae. They bring it into their home and give it food and protection. It'll do whatever it can to convince others to care for you. I'd wager the smell it releases when it digests contains all kinds of pheromones."

She returns to her notes "It must be able to skim mental pictures. Last night I said you were missing a penis-shaped pacifier and voila!" She motions toward the pacifier. "The exterior is exactly how I imagined it. The penis part though isn't from my imagination though."

"It'th my penith." You admit. "it wepwicated me."

"Makes sense. It's probably the only human penis it knew of." She laughs. "It could be worse. It could be a deer or bear penis!" You don't find it funny.

"How do we wemove it?" You ask. That's the only thing you actually want to know.

"Well, I have some ideas that we can try. Most external parasites like ticks, leeches, and mosquitoes drop off after they eat as much as they can hold. They're also repelled by citronella leaves, and lots of animals are repelled by capsaicin. Unfortunately, the outside of your diaper appears to have a waterproofband membrsne and most likely filters all the water it absorbs via that same membrane"

"Tho..."

"So the only way to expose it to stuff it doesn't like is to feed it to you first. It'll taste like shit, and you'll have to eat a LOT of it, but it's your best bet at getting rid of this thing."

She stands up and stretches. "Go ahead and watch some more cartoons. I'll make your dinner."

Your pacifier pulses, and a dribble of cum runs down the front of your shirt.

Mary winces. "That's fucking nasty." She uses to fingers to pick up the pacifier and pushes it into your mouth. "Sorry, but I am NOT cleaning jizz off my floors and furniture, and trust me, you'll want your mouth to be numb for what you're about to eat."

Dinner turned out to be a massive pot of oatmeal, gallons of the stuff, laced with an entire bottle of laxatives, enough hot sauce to make it orange, and several handfuls of purreéd citronella leaf.

"Before you eat, I have one precaution." She went to her hallway closet and returned with something rectangular. "I still have this from when I did babysitting." She sets it down and unfolds a collapsible playpen. "Well, get in."

You look at her, was she serious?

"Listen, if this thing jumps off of you it will need to be contained. Get in...unless you have some other kind of containment you prefer."

You sigh, and climb over the side and sit on the thin rubber mattress. She removes your pacifier and scoops a heaping helping into a bowl.

"Alright, here comes the airplane!" She teases, She brings a heaping spoonful of the mush to your mouth.

The meal does indeed taste like shit. Even with your numb mouth and throat you can taste it. It's so spicy that your eyes are watering and you're coughing after every spoonful. The citronella is so bitter that it makes you gag. The meal goes on for hours with breaks to drink water and suck your pacifier while your stomach settles and makes room for more.

That's all you do for the rest of the evening. Eat, drink, suck your own cum from your own penis, then repeat.

You have never eaten so much in your life! Mary just keeps shoveling spoonful after spoonful into you. Multiple times you try to cover your mouth or move, but she just grabs your nose, forces your head back, and waits for you to gasp for air to shove even more spicy bitter gruel into you.

Halfway through the oatmeal, your stomach is churning and gurgling loudly.

By midnight your face and shirt are covered with spicy burning oatmeal. Mary seems feverishly obsessed with separating you from this new lifeform so she can study it. Her hand keeps a death grip on your nose and your every breath comes at the cost of a mouthful of cold, bitter, spicy slop.

"All done!" She says, showing you the empty pan. She picks up a wet washcloth and begins wiping you down. Your skin is red wherever spilled oatmeal lingered too long.

"Now you're to hold it all in until you can't anymore. We want to really feed this thing more than it can possibly handle, which may require multiple feedings like this."

"MULTIPLE!?" you gasp.

"Yes, your next feeding will be in...say...three hours."

"B-but that's 3 AM!"

She either doesn't hear you or doesn't care. "I'm out of oatmeal now. I guess I can use Lentils? There's some frozen veggies I can blend too..."

She turns her attention to you and she looks almost like she's in a daze. She reaches for your pacifier and pushes it into your mouth.

"mmm!"

She stares at you, then blinks a few times and shakes her head.

"Have you...been having weird thoughts? Ones you wouldn't normally have? Strange words or hypotheticals jumping in front of your mind's eye?" She asks.

You shake your head and swallow more yummy cum. Your tummy rubles and you know you'll soon be going potty in your dipee.

"just wondering."

She closes the windows and latches them for the night, then heads to her bedroom for a quick three-hour nap. For a just a moment you think you smell lavender and baby powder.

While she's sleeping you're wracked by cramps. The playpen is far too small to lay down, or spread out. The most comfortable position is curled into a loose fetal position, but you aren't there long enough to sleep.

The urge is too strong to resist and hits you suddenly. You're powerless to stop the torrent. You barely manage to get into a crouching position before you start filling your diaper. It floods the back of the diaper in an instant and erumpts as hot, spicy diarrhea. Your diaper swells and droops until it's touching the surface of the mattress.

For a brief moment an image flashes into your head, it's from one of the cartoons you had been watching yesterday. It had a bunch of smiling animals with "potty time" in big colorful letters.

Your penis starts being stimulated to reward you and you drop to all fours as more hot spicy diarrhea floods the front of your diaper. It's so icky you want to throw up and it burns so bad!

Cramp after cramp pushes more into your ever swelling dipee. Touching your knees together is impossible. The only comfortable position you can find is on your back, your legs spread wide as you sweat and strain. Your mess now exceeds the original size of the creature. If this fails, it'll be eating for days while you suffer from an insanely bad case of diaper rash.

Just when you think you're done Mary's alarm goes off. She walks into the kitchen and scratches the top your head affectionately. "Wow, sure looks like you had a very productive time!" She giggles. "Let's try just one more feeding, okay Sweetie?"

"Mmmph!" You are NOT 'Sweetie'!

She's already turned to the fridge, she either doesn't notice your protest or she doesn't care.

Through the mesh of the playpen you watch her empty a bag of frozen veggies, an entire bottle of bright yellow hot sauce, a few zucchinis and a box of raisins into the blender. She purèes it into a smooth paste then pors it into a big pot with four cups of dried lentils and eight cups of water.

She opens a bottle of chili powder sprinkles some into the pot, then pauses in thought before dumping the entire container into the lentils followed by a tin of red pepper flakes. She opens the apartment door and retrieves a plastic bag from CVS. She must have ordered the delivery before going to sleep. She pours a bottle of milk of magnesium, a handful of Senna tablets and a bottle of castor oil into your upcoming breakfast. She finishes it off with a stick blender, turning it all into a homogeneous thick slop.

The smell of it cooking is absolutely abhorrent. Your stomach turns at the thought of even a single spoonful in your mouth, eating almost a gallon of it sounds downright impossible.

When she returns it's with a mixing bowl full of your food. She scoops up a large heaping spoonful of the slop and removes your pacifier.

"Are you going to be good and eat all your food or do I need to hold your nose and force feed you again?" She asks.

Your options are limited

Fight back! You AREN'T eating that slop!

Accept your feeding and open your mouth. She knows best!

She's acting all weird! This isn't right!

Voting ended onJul 10

[blushy-stuff-idk]

Slime Diaper Part 16 (Finale)

Previous Part

You're shaking. No, you're trembling. Your mind is racing so fast that the thoughts blur into a haze that for all intents and purposes is a blank screen. You only hear the blood in your ears and your heart is beating like you've been running for hours.

Your Apartment...Your job...Your career...Everything....just gone. All that's left is Mommy, your car, and a life of nursing on Mama's penis and filling your diaper in the most painful and humiliating way conceivable. You don't even know if their plan will work, and if it does work, it could take weeks! Months! What if it never comes off? Would this just be your life? Forever?

It's too much! Every thought is so awful! You flail your soft padded mittens and start sobbing. Your legs give out and you fall into the squishy poopy mess with a sickening squelch.

This single moment of added embarrassment only tips you further over the edge. You hit your pillow-hands against the tile floor and kick impotently. You look like a toddler throwing a tantrum, and what's worse is you KNOW it, which only feeds into the maelstrom of emotions you can't contain or control. It's a feedback loop of pure impotent rage and frustration.

You pant, gasping for breath. You're exhausted, still laying on the floor. You don't know how long your hysteria lasted. Seconds? Minutes? An Hour? The part of you that judges time stopped working when it started.

Mommy stands above you, looking down at you. You're not sure what emotion she's displaying. Disappointment? Anger? Fear possibly?"

"Are you quite finished, young lady?"

You sit up. sniffle, and wipe your eyes with your mittens. You feel like an absolute child. Fuck. You look like an absolute child.

She motions toward...all of you and her tone turns softer. "You know something crazy? I love you. Not as a romantic interest, God no. Whatever fucked up thing that diaper did to our heads might just be permanent, but for whatever reason I don't mind how my mind reacts when I look at you."

You look up at her. She's still naked, and it makes your little peepee throb, but you also can't picture sex with her. She's too perfect and wonderful for that. "I know. I feew the thame way."

She moves and sits next to you on the floor. "This plan to remove your diaper... Lily and I are trying our hardest to make it work, but it'll take time. It'll take a lot more time if you fight it. This thing of yours seems to be super efficient with resources. We may never starve it off you. If we do, it won't be for a long time."

She places a hand on your back and then wipes away a tear from your cheek.

"We aren't going to stop trying, because I think this thing programmed me to take care of you...and baby you, obviously, but mainly to take care of you."

"I-" You sniff loudly. "I-know, Mommy."

"This process? It requires a liquid diet to reduce food for your diaper, spankings so it expends energy, constantly wetting so you are edged endlessly. Hell, it even requires a giant butt plug you can't control."

"Mommy, I knowww."

"My point is that to play this game you can't be sneaking solid food, fighting back, holding back your wettings or ANYTHING. You are a baby because you need to be a baby to escape being a baby. If I gave your job a valid excuse you'd be acting like you're going back to work in a day or two. You'd still think of yourself as an adult."

"B-but I don't want to be a baby!"

"That's why you have to be one. The better you play the part, the sooner we get this thing off you."

You sniff again. She's using the tone that a mom uses when she's explaining why a child can't have an expensive toy they want. Embarrassingly, it's working.

"O-Okay Mommy. I'll twy to be youw baby. Fo weal."

She hugs you and kisses your forehead. "Thank you so so much. I love you baby."

"I wuv you too, Mommy."

The next few days are tortuously slow. Your days involve mostly coloring and playing with toys. The days, however, turn to weeks, and you adapt to the bland, monotonous days by increasing your imagination. At first you're just talking to your stuffies because Mama and Mommy are busy having sex. Then you're assigning personalities to your toys. Next thing you know Mommy and Mama are peeking around the corner to watch you deeply buried in pretend scenarios with your stuffies and dollies.

Mommy and Mama continue your formula diet, with meal replacement shakes as treats for days when you're extra good. The smell of food makes you yearn to eat it, but you forget what it actually tastes like. Pizza is just the smell of basil and tomato. Curry is the smell of spices. What they taste like and how they feel in your mouth become distant half-remembered memories.

Mama takes great pride and delight in your transition. She teaches you fashion, albeit babygirl fashion. She even takes you to the doctor to have your hormone levels checked alongside her as a Mama/Daughter date.

Every waking moment of every day is spent being the perfect baby girl, and every night is spent in your little playpen at the foot of your moms' bed, or between them, softly nursing on Mama or Mommy. With the exception of the maintenance spankings and when you make poopies, your life is happy and pain-free.

Your vocabulary dwindles down to just the words you hear and use the most. Mommy thinks that it's because you're sitting right on top of the source of the baby pheromones, and are always breathing in a low dose, even with the air filter running on maximum. While your preschool cartoons never taught you anything, they helped retain basic speech and knowledge. As long as you watch your Sesame street you never forget your primary colors, or the letters in the alphabet.

While you helplessly regress ever further from the adult you used to be, your diaper does indeed shrink...very slowly. By your second Adoption Day (the day Mommy and Mama celebrate you coming to them) it's about the thickness of a normal diaper. And a few weeks after that, everything changes.

"M-Mommy! Mama! Mommy! Mama!" This has never happened before! Is this allowed? Should you be scared?"

Mommy stirs, and sits up. and crawls to the foot of the bed. She gasps when she sees you. "Lily! Lily wake up! It Happened!"

Lily groans. "Wha? What happened?

"My Mai Daipee!" You gasp.

Mama repositions and looks down into your playpen. "Oh my god. It worked."

You're sitting upright, You can see your hands! for the first time in years! Whatever made up the mittens has dissolved into a thick clear slime that drips from your fingers. Your forearms and hands are so atrophied and tiny. just opening and closing them is hard.

What's really scary is that your constant companion, your diaper, has also dissolved. You're covered in wet clear slime from the waist down. For the first time in years you can see what's between your legs. The thingy there is so shrunken and tiny. It looks completely alien to you.

"Mommy, ith Otay?" You ask.

"Yes, my love. Don't you remember? You used to not have a diaper or mittens! Long ago."

You think hard and scowl. That doesn't sound right. You're certain that it's always been there.

You gasp! "Tha Pwug! Ith gone!" This was serious. You don't really remember why, but the plug was important. Now you feel so empty. It feels all wrong! "I want mai pwug!" You insist. Mama sometimes has one and you want one too!

Mama strokes your cheek. "It's Okay, baby. This just means that you get to grow up now!"

You scowl. Growing up sounds stupid. Your cute diaper is gone, your plug is gone, your mittens are gone. Everything you know is changing and you hate it!

"Oh boy, here comes another tantrum." sighs Mommy.

"Your turn to handle this one. I'm going to make some doctor's appointments." Mama says.

"Growing up" as Mama put it, apparently required going to lots of doctors and doing stupid tests where the doctors said stupid hard-to-understand words like 'developmentally delayed', 'Mentally regressed', 'severely atrophied', and 'complete incontinence'.

Mommy and Mama explained later in the car and said the "Growing up" wouldn't change too many things after all, which was just fine with you. They both seemed really relieved that you weren't upset for some reason. You don't know why you would you be upset. Things were just fine before! On the way home you even got nuggies from McDonalds which you managed to eat with your new hands!

Mommy even said that you would still need a diaper! but it wouldn't be like the one you had before. You'd have lots of temporary ones, and they wouldn't be squishy unless you made them squishy, which sounded like a whole extra unnecessary step.

Turns out you're great at making them squishy! And when they're squishy they feel really good to move around in! You bragged about it to Mama and she said it was your special talent! How lucky is that? Yep, things couldn't possibly be better!

Fin

Thanks so much to everyone who stuck it through and read this whole story from beginning to end. This is my first dive back into writing casual erotica, and the response has been so positive and touching! Don't be sad that it's over though, there will be more!

I actually had so many possible endings planned, but at a certain point each path reaches a point where a time-skip/montage is necessary due to the long and repetitive days and slow decline of the MC. I didn't want to beat the concept to death with 10 more parts where the MC gets a spanking, and felt it best to end it while it was still enjoyable.

Fun fact: There was a way to get the diaper off way earlier with very little mental decline. several of the early parts had the option to bring in a doctor who would have been critical in discovering aspects of the diaper and getting it off before the MC completely devolved into a baby.

The darkest ending involved yelling at Mary after she ends your job. She cries and realizes she can't do this then locks herself in her room. Lily, forced to choose between the new baby and her old friend-turned-girlfiend tells you to leave. This results in an ending where job interview after job interview fails due to humiliating reasons, you end up living in your car where the enclosed space accelerates the mental decline. Eventually, completely out of options, you return to Mary's and beg for forgiveness. She and Lily take you in as their baby again, and do eventually forgive and love you like a daughter, but they've stopped trying to remove the diaper, and you completely regress to a babbling infant with no hope of escape. I definitely prefer the ending that the votes led to.

One thing that really surprised me was how often people voted for tenderness and obedience, opening up a whole soft and loving element to the story that I didn't think would be very popular.

Any way, thank you so much for the support and feedback! It means far more to me than you probably think!

Also, sorry for all the typos. I often write using my phone while excited and dripping in my diaper...which leads to odd errors, typos, mistakes in grammar, etc. I try to catch them all but I know I've missed a bunch. In my defense, grammar and spelling are hard when you're extremely horny.