Untitled @tightywhitesdiaperfag - Tumblr Blog

Went shopping at the plant nursery with daddy and big bro. Big bro pantsed me because “it’s a nursery! Little boys don’t need to hide their diapers in a nursery!” When I tried to tell him off, daddy took the paci out of his pocket and pushed it into my mouth.

paddednappy

Its been a quarter of an hour since you encouraged me to crawl between your open legs.

I was busy reconciling a clients annual financial position, you had a little time to kill.

You're in control. You're always in control. I'm on my knees, you've gripped my hair, clamped my face between your thighs and given me firm instruction throughout.

The sole focus - my tongue and your pussy.

You'd usually insist on more than the two orgasms you've already enjoyed but time's pressing and you need to get ready.

You take my hand in yours and lead me to the spare room. You lay me on the single bed, the one with the duvet cover adorned with cars and trains in primary colours. I understand I won't be sharing our double bed tonight.

Laying me down you gently undress me. Shoes first, then trousers and underwear. I'm erect and my pants are wet. I've been like that for the last fifteen minutes. I'm shy and embarrassed. With quiet reassurance you tell me its ok.

I lift my head to help you remove my jumper, then tshirt, then it's my my socks.

I'm naked.

You're still fully dressed, save for your knickers which you took off before you positioned my face between your legs.

I'm embarrassed.

You gently spread my legs, exposing me further. I resist. You push firmly but gently, asserting your reassuring control, then crawl between my open legs.

Reaching above me you pull the strap from under the pillow and attach it to my wrists. You want my hands out the way. It's just easier when I can't wriggle around.

I see compassion in the way you look at me, I'm searching for reassurance, validation even. You hold my gaze as you carefully grip my cock and lower yourself on to it. We are in the Lady Boy Position - woman on top between the man's legs. Its like the traditional missionary position but reversed. We always do it this way.

I moan with the initial penetration. You read my pleasure as pain and reassure me, gently shushing me, your hand on my heart.

I wrap my legs around your body as you start to rise and fall, my cock slipping in and out of you. You look at me, smiling, nodding your head in encouragement. You watch my enjoyment build and my worries slip away as I fall into the moment.

You know I won't last long, I never do. As you build the pace, you can see I'm getting close already.

Smiling, you at look me, holding my gaze. Then in a quiet voice you say,

"Tell me when you're gonna cum, baby."

You pick up the pace a little more as I start to shake my head, it's too soon, I want more but I already know it's too late. You nod your head in approval, silently encouraging me.

"I'm gonna cum!" I blurt out, my back arching, my body tensing in anticipation.

"Cum inside me baby!"

The enthusiasm in your voice makes my heart swell with joy. I clamp my legs around you, holding on tightly as I approach my crescendo.

You hold my gaze intently, silently encouraging me. It's here, all too soon. My orgasm crashes over me and I helplessly pump my little load inside you.

As I release my breath, the intensity melting away, you tell me I'm a good boy. You reassure me. You stroke my face and smile at me compassionately. You're proud of me.

You stay between my splayed legs gently stroking my face, whispering sweet nothings and telling me what a clever boy I am.

I'm soft by the time you climb off me but your hand lingers, running down my body keeping reassuring contact as you step away.

Reaching into the bag next to the bed, you pull out the disposable nappy and slip it between my legs. With an efficient wipe and a puff of powder, you flap up the front, patting me and talking sweetly as you fasten both tapes. Its thick. I guessed it would be.

You turn me on my side, pushing my teddy under my arm and the dummy between my lips. There's a pause, then I feel the weight of a soft blanket envelope me.

Stroking my hair and shushing me gently you encourage me towards sleep. My eyes close and my mind wanders, my dummy bobs absently in my mouth. The last thing I hear is your quiet whisper,

"Sleep tight my baby boy. I'll be back later."

You go into another room and get changed. You're off out tonight to see your lover. You'll probably bring him home with you. He's tall handsome and accomplished in bed. I know where you're going, you've never held it from me. But I know where my place is.

At home, in my nappy.

diaperedlittleme

Crushin' these exams 📚🤓

bbcharlotte

Story links

Links to the stories I wrote:

https://www.tumblr.com/bbcharlotte/169309253587/mistress-samantha-teaches-her-sissy-baby?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/bbcharlotte/170939905717/story-time-millionaire-sissy

https://www.tumblr.com/bbcharlotte/752989736074952704/bridal-sissy-baby

https://www.tumblr.com/bbcharlotte/741389491340820480/caught-in-the-gym-part-1

https://www.tumblr.com/bbcharlotte/739143152655564800/heres-the-true-account-of-a-holiday-me-and

https://www.tumblr.com/bbcharlotte/764142144869072897/twinnieday

https://www.tumblr.com/bbcharlotte/655672103810613248/going-places

https://www.tumblr.com/bbcharlotte/174525082227/suck-baby-suck

https://www.tumblr.com/bbcharlotte/174694788287/little-big-land (follow up story to Millionaire Sissy)

https://www.tumblr.com/bbcharlotte/723824772857905152/barbie-baby

https://www.tumblr.com/bbcharlotte/724453054734270464/baby-barbie-part-2

https://www.tumblr.com/bbcharlotte/652869914844168192/playdate

https://www.tumblr.com/bbcharlotte/819760075085381632/couple-dynamics?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/bbcharlotte/179039189012/een-sessie-met-meesteres-petra-dutch-only in Dutch

back2briefs-deactivated20200405

Cameron’s friends can’t stop laughing at him after they’ve pantsed him in his sleep. He’s going to be so surprised when he wakes up in just his tighty whities! His friends have a feeling that he’s going to have some trouble finding his clothes this weekend.

briefattraction

guyinpagiveswedgies

This geek did it 200% correct in his post.

wonderwedgie

[Untitled Wedgie Story Chapter III.]

[This is another slapdash addition to a story I began a few days ago. It's probably rough around the edges as I kinda threw it together, like the last two parts. As always, feedback and suggestions are always welcome.]

Whatever it was that your bros found so compelling about your receptivity to wedgies, it was clear that they meant business. They must have privately coordinated the events immediately following your departure from the burger joint, though you couldn't even guess when or how they would have had time to do so.

The moment your seatbelt was fastened in its buckle, it suddenly and powerfully tightened against your torso. The guy behind you was pulling at the seatbelt from behind with all his might, securing you helplessly in place. Before you could even react, a second pair of hands had found their way around the seat and once again into the back of your pants, impressively maneuvering a massive wedgie as Damien, cackling along with the rest of them, started the engine and began to drive.

You kicked and thrashed in the limited legroom of the passenger seat as the waistband climbed with shocking rapidity and ease, quickly attaining the goal of being hooked over the top of the headrest. So powerful was the restraining force of your seatbelt, pulled from behind with immense force, that you couldn't even raise your arms to reach up and release the waistband from the headrest. But even if you could have, would you?

'You seriously need to stop squirming and chill out, wedgie boy,' Damien said, reaching across from the driver's seat to tousle your hair playfully, the way an uncle—or a bully—might have.

You could only stammer, the onslaught of sensations almost so intense as to impede coherent thought. 'I... oh, God... fuck, I'm not—'

'Damien's right, wedgie boy,' said Trevor's voice from behind you, followed by a wet, slippery POP noise that sounded like something being inserted into a mouth and quickly withdrawn. 'You need to chill the fuck out and try to enjoy yourself already.'

With no warning, a pair of big, meaty pinkie fingers, obviously coated with copious quantities of saliva, were jammed into both your ears at once. The involuntary full-body shudder that this triggered was humiliating enough, to say nothing of the groan of visceral, high-octane pleasure that this forced you to produce. The fingers did not retreat immediately but instead twisted and wriggled aggressively, as if to wring as many gasps and moans and expletives as possible from your mouth, by force. Though your ear canals were fully obstructed, you heard the entire car erupt with laughter at your ecstasy-torment. You didn't know if the constriction you felt in my crotch was due more to the gigantic wedgie you still had in, or to the fact that your erection, straining against your tighty whities, must have been hard enough to cut diamonds.

You shut your eyes, tight. You didn't entirely know why, but it felt like you had to, perhaps as an instinctive reflex to prevent your brain from literally short-circuiting on the veritable deluge of embarrassment, pain, helplessness, and extreme pleasure that was assaulting your neural pathways with unrelenting brutality.

'Dude, he fucking loves this so much, it's insane.'

'Our little wedgie boy's horned up out of his fucking mind right now.'

'Hey, wedgie boy, smile for the camera!'

You opened your eyes to see a phone being held in front of your face at arm's length. It was Jack who held the phone, as the only one in the van's middle row whose hands weren't fully occupied. The front-facing camera was on, and the second your eyes snapped open, the digitized camera shutter clicked, signalling that a photo had been captured.

Jack was leaning into the frame from the opposite side of the van, gesturing towards you with his thumb and an exaggerated facial expression that said 'Get a load of this!'

Visible directly behind you was Aiden, grinning maniacally as he continued to pull your seatbelt towards himself with incredible force, leaning back in his own seat to maximize his leverage.

Leaning in from the middle seat was Tyler, whose thick pinkie fingers still clogged your ears and who was beaming at the camera like he was at his high school graduation all over again.

In the back of the van were Adam and Chris, both laughing so hard that they looked like they were on the verge of passing out or giving themselves heart attacks.

Just barely in frame was Damien behind the wheel, eyes on the road and a jocular smirk on his face that said 'Boys will be boys!'

In the middle of the picture itself was, of course, you. The headrest was fully enveloped in the white fabric of your briefs, and Tyler's fingers were still plugged deep into your ears. Your face was flushed red, eyes wide with embarrassment and terror, but your pupils blown so wide as to make your arousal impossible to deny.

It was too much. It was too hot. You needed it to stop, soon, or else...

'Guys,' you pleaded, trying to wriggle free and actually managing to get Tyler to retract his saliva-covered fingers from your ears. You were so horrified by what you felt was going to happen that your voice was barely above a croak of timid protestation. 'Guys, I—'

'What is it, wedgie boy?' Damien asked. 'You'll have to speak up, we're having too much fun to hear you.'

You tried to keep your voice as level as you could, but it was becoming a mounting struggle. 'I... I can't... It's too much...'

'"Too much"? Tyler cut in, 'Bro, we've literally seen your locked photo gallery. There's no such thing as "too much wedgies" when it comes to your ass, that's for sure.'

'No, you don't understand,' you said. You felt the walls that had miraculously gotten you through the morning's earlier three-hour wedgie session beginning to crumble. 'If you don't stop, I'm gonna... gonna...' You fought hard against the waves of orgasm crashing against your consciousness, like you were an ancient mythic king in a parable, trying, in his hubris and vanity, to hold back the tides of the ocean.

'Gonna what? Cream your tighty whities just from a wedgie?' Amid the continued snickering from the bros at this comment, Aiden took the liberty of unhooking your waistband from the headrest and pulling viciously towards himself, suddenly intensifying an already monster wedgie without warning.

You groaned helplessly as the camel's back finally broke. Your overfull balls emptied impossible amounts of semen into your briefs, blasting rope after rope of pent-up jizz into your tautly pulled tighty whities. It was, by far, the most pleasurable climax you had ever experienced, tainted only by the horrifying reality of the context in which it had occurred.

A silence had fallen over the friend group. The car had come to a halt. Surely this was the end of the fantasy come to life, and also of your friendships with six other guys whom you had loved and trusted as brothers.

'Dude,' Tyler said, 'I didn't even know you could do that.' There was another pause. You said nothing. You wanted to disappear, to die. It was Tyler who broke the silence again, but now in a different tone. 'So I guess that gives us something to work towards with this wedgie boy, huh?'

There was a hearty wave of agreement that rocked through the car, and a resumption of the general, jovial atmosphere as before. You were in complete disbelief. 'Something to work towards'?

Damien clapped you on the shoulder. 'Bet you were holding that one in all morning, huh, wedgie boy?'

'He definitely sounded like it, from the way he was moaning back at your place,' Tyler added.

'Dude, I thought he was gonna bust when I gave him that piledriver wedgie back at your place,' chimed in Chris. 'He seemed so into it, but I guess he was actually holding back!'

Just as you were starting to realize what all this was implying, Damien pointed out the window. You finally realized why the car was stopped in the first place. You followed the path of his finger and saw, outside, that it led to your apartment building. They had driven you home. 'Better go in and get into a fresh pair of briefs, wedgie boy.' Damien said. 'Or we could come in with you.' You looked back into the vehicle and saw the same array of crazed, manic, eager faces that you had seen on the faces of these same friends that same morning, when they revealed to you what you yourself had revealed to them the night before. You turned back to Damien, speechless. 'Well, aren't you gonna invite us in?'

barrelagedfkr

ameliemommy

Playpen Punishment

The nursery was quiet except for the soft crinkle of your diaper as you shifted in the playpen. The bars were tall, the padding beneath you plush, but none of it mattered. You were mad. Mommy had put you here for talking back, again, and no amount of pouting or kicking your feet was going to change that. The thick, baby-blue diaper between your legs felt like a betrayal, a reminder of how small she could make you feel when she wanted to.

You sighed, your pacifier bobbing as you sucked on it absently. The blanket beneath you was soft, but it did nothing to ease the frustration bubbling inside you. Without thinking, your hand drifted down, fingers pressing against the padded front of your diaper. The pressure was instant, a spark of something warm and forbidden. You bit down on your pacifier, your hips lifting just a little, seeking more.

That’s when you heard it, the soft creak of the rocking chair.

Mommy had been watching.

Her voice was sweet, almost musical, but there was a edge to it that made your stomach twist. "Aww, is my baby boy bored?" She leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees, her chin propped up in her hands. Her eyes sparkled with amusement, but her smile was knowing. Too knowing.

You froze, your hand still pressed against your diaper. You knew you weren’t supposed to touch yourself. Good boys didn’t do that. But the way she was looking at you, like she already knew exactly what you’d been doing, made your face burn.

Before you could pull your hand away, hers was there, slipping between the bars of the playpen. Her fingers curled around your wrist, not to stop you, but to guide you. "Boys don’t get to touch themselves," she murmured, her voice low and firm. "Only Mommy can touch you."

Your breath hitched. You should’ve been embarrassed. You were embarrassed. But the way her fingers replaced yours, pressing into the thick padding of your diaper, made it impossible to care. Her touch was deliberate, her palm cupping you through the layers of plastic and fluff. You whimpered, your hips jerking upward instinctively, seeking more pressure.

Mommy’s laugh was soft, almost a purr. "That’s it, baby. Let Mommy take care of you." Her fingers worked in slow, deliberate circles, her thumb pressing just there, right where you needed it most. The diaper crinkled loudly with every movement, the sound filling the quiet nursery. You could feel yourself getting harder, the pressure building until it was almost unbearable.

Your pacifier slipped from your lips as you panted, your free hand clutching at the blanket beneath you. "Mmm, someone’s very excited," Mommy teased, her voice dripping with amusement. She didn’t let up, her fingers never stilling, never giving you a moment to catch your breath. The pleasure was overwhelming, a hot, heavy weight in your groin that made your toes curl.

You tried to speak, to beg, but all that came out was a muffled, desperate sound. Your hips bucked against her hand, your body moving on its own, chasing the release that felt just out of reach. The diaper was warm now, damp from earlier, but the heat between your legs was something else entirely.

Mommy leaned closer, her breath warm against your cheek. "You gonna make a mess for Mommy, baby?" Her voice was a whisper, but it might as well have been a command. The way she said it, like she already knew the answer, sent a shiver down your spine.

And then, just like that, you were there.

Your body tensed, your back arching off the blanket as the pleasure crashed over you. A choked cry tore from your throat, the sound muffled by the pacifier you’d barely managed to shove back into your mouth. Your hips jerked, once, twice, your entire body shuddering as you spilled into your diaper. The warmth spread quickly, the padding soaking up every last bit of your release. But Mommy wasn’t done. Her fingers kept moving, kept pressing, and the pleasure didn’t stop. Your body clenched, and with a gasp, you realized…

You were going number two, too.

The heat in your belly twisted, and before you could stop it, your diaper gave a loud, wet squelch. The smell hit you immediately, thick, musky, stinky. Your face burned with humiliation, but Mommy just giggled, her fingers finally stilling.

"Looks like someone made a big mess," she cooed, her voice laced with delight. She didn’t move to clean you up. Didn’t even reach for the wipes. Instead, she simply stood, her hands on her hips as she admired her handiwork.

You lay there, panting, your diaper sagging with the weight of your mess. The warmth was unbearable, the stickiness clinging to your skin. You wanted to squirm away, to hide, but there was nowhere to go. The playpen bars were still between you and freedom.

Mommy’s smile was wicked as she reached down and scooped you up, cradling you against her chest. You were heavy in her arms, your diaper a warm, squishy burden between you. "Such a messy boy," she murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "But you’re my messy boy."

She carried you to the crib, the one with the tall, unyielding bars, and laid you down gently. The mattress was cool beneath you, a stark contrast to the heat of your diaper. You whimpered, your fingers twisting in the sheets, but Mommy just shook her head.

"No, no, baby. You made this mess. You can stay in it a little while." She tapped your nose playfully, her eyes twinkling. "Besides, it’s almost naptime. And good boys nap in their sticky diapers, don’t they?"

You wanted to argue. Wanted to beg her to change you, to clean you up, to anything but leave you like this. But the look in her eyes brooked no argument. And deep down, beneath the embarrassment, beneath the discomfort, there was something else, a warm, fuzzy feeling, like the first sip of hot cocoa on a cold day.

Mommy tucked a blanket around you, her touch lingering on your shoulder. "Sleep well, baby," she said, her voice soft. "Mommy will check on you later."

And then she was gone, the door clicking shut behind her, leaving you alone with your thoughts and your very full diaper.

paddedpinchy

Getting padded at the GYM - was a biiit nervous 👉👈

daddyd247

I was in my last year of daycare before I was going to kindergarten. Summer was fast approaching and I was feeling like a big kid knowing I’d be starting school in the fall. Daycare always made me feel like a little kid. The smell of baby powder and other little kids in diapers for having accidents just seemed so baby to me. I was too big to be around all of that… so I thought.

It was a Friday afternoon and nap time was approaching. We all knew the rules and the unspoken rule. You get your sleep mat and be quiet for an hour. If anyone wets their pants while taking a nap they are treated like the baby they must be. A change into a diaper and t shirt only. This was the most dreaded and humiliating thing that could happen to a big kid.

I was confident that it would never happen to me. But I saw it happen a lot over the year. So I grabbed my mat and laid down. The last thing I remembered was feeling someone’s hand checking my pants and then exclaiming to the room, it looks like someone had an accident. I awoke instantly in terror. Realizing immediately I had wet my pants and was about to be the next in diapers. I turned so red and felt oh so embarrassed as the teacher helped me to my feet. She took my hand and lead me saying come with me to the “baby” room.

Everyone knew exactly what that meant. The “baby” room was wear the changing table was with diapers. Tears welled up in my eyes as I was lead to the inevitable. As we walked in I immediately saw the package of pampers and a stack of diapers next to it. The smell of baby powder, pampers and baby wipes filled the air. A little girl was already on the table having her fresh diaper taped when the teacher doing the diapering looked and said oh goodness I’ll change him next. The little girl sucked her paci as she was lifted with a crinkle and set on the floor. I was lifted and laid on the table for my diapering. The little girl pointed and said “baby” through her paci as the teacher removed my wet pants. I was mortified and felt like a baby for sure. As the teacher wiped me clean she said “do you want a paci baby”? I was frozen and stared in humiliation. Before I knew it a paci was in my mouth and my pampers were being unfolded in front of me.

My heart was racing and eyes were full of tears. I naturally sucked the paci like a toddler as my ankles were crossed and lifted. My pee pee was stiff from the cold wipes and air as my diaper was slid under my bottom. When the teacher set me on the thick diaper and began pulling it up between my legs I started crying. She shooshed my as the pampers touched my pee pee and made me squirm. I was taped snug in my pampers and lifted like the little girl with a chorus of crinkles and baby feelings. The teacher that brought me in said awwww don’t you look adorable baby as she patted my bottom and said come with me baby. Holding my hand and leading me back as I waddled and crinkled to be shown off to the kids in my room.

As we walked in the teacher reinforced that the diaper baby was back. Everyone looked, whispered and giggled. I felt so ashamed and baby.

Abdl for life from that moment…

babypudge

"Oh yes, he used to be much more defiant about being relegated to living as the baby of the house, but ironic as it sounds, we've found it's much harder for him to stand up for himself when made to crawl everywhere. If you need some help with your little one, I'd be glad to lend you his old "crawl enforcer" harness now that our precious, Pampered prince is properly trained."