taylor price
Peter Solarz
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
Today's Document

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Origami Around
Stranger Things
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
dirt enthusiast

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YOU ARE THE REASON

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Three Goblin Art
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KIROKAZE

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣

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@tttyp
Someone Needs a Nap
Layla sat cross-legged on the thick, colorful playmat in the living room, the late-morning sunlight filtering through the blinds and casting soft stripes across the alphabet blocks scattered around you. The mat crinkled faintly every time you shifted your weight. She jingled a bright, colorful rattle inches from your face, her voice light and singsong. “Shakey-shakey, widdle baybee! Show me how you jingle and jiggle!”
You stared at the rattle, jaw tight around your pacifier, refusing to reach for it. The heavy, loaded mess in the seat of your diaper had been there for well over an hour now. It had started warm during your earlier ‘play’, but it had now cooled into a thick, sticky weight that squished and clung with every small movement. You knew the smell had to be noticeable, no way she couldn’t smell it, but the rule was ironclad: Littles don’t ask for changes. They wait. You huffed through your nose instead, cheeks puffed out in quiet protest.
Layla set the rattle down, trying something else, picking up the stacking ring toy, holding up a bright blue ring. “What color is this one, sweetie? Can you tell Mommy? Bwoo? Say it with me! Bwoooo!”
You tried your best not to roll your eyes, taking the ring and slipping it over the yellow rod. No response. Your pacifier bobbed as you suckled, trying to ignore the way the mush shifted when you leaned forward.
“Awww!” Mommy tilted her head, eyes wide with exaggerated concern. “What’s da matturr, widdle one?” She leaned in closer, her nose wrinkling just for a second before she smoothed it away with a bright smile. The smell was definitely there, you could tell by the brief pause, but she breezed right past it. “Somewon is awffwee fussy today! Is my little guy having a tough morning? Huh??”
You huffed again, louder this time, crossing your arms over your chest. The diaper sagged heavily between your thighs, the tapes straining.
“Is widdle baybee thirsty? Is that why he’s so gwumpy?” She reached for the sippy cup you’d knocked over earlier. The bright red liquid sloshed inside. Cranberry juice. She knew you hated the tart, metallic taste of fucking Cranberry juice.
You didn’t even think. Your hand shot out and swatted the cup hard. It flew across the mat, juice splashing in a sticky arc over the blocks and onto the edge of the playmat.
Layla’s expression changed instantly. The sweet, playful Mommy voice vanished completely.
"That's it." She said, her voice low and sharp. "I've had it! You've been acting like a little brat all morning."
She started counting off on her fingers, her tone growing colder with every point.
“You were fussy and impossible in your highchair, spitting out your food, wriggling and whining and making a mess like a spoiled little shit. Then you spent the rest of the morning crying and complaining about your cock cage like a pathetic, entitled man-baby. 'iT's sO uNfAiR'!! iT's tOo tiGht!! i cAn'T tAkE iT aNyMoRe!!' Wahh wahh wahh!." She mocked in a high-pitched, whiny voice.. "You kept spitting your pacifier out the second I turned away. You’ve been talking back to me all day, and not even using your baby-babble either!" Her voice carried a mix of disbelief and genuine offense, "You’ve already had two time-outs and a spanking today, and now you’re ignoring me during playtime and knocking things over like a defiant little terror.”
Layla let the heavy silence hang in the air for a moment, crossing her arms while she leered at me.
“I think someone needs a nap.”
Before you could react, her fingers clamped around your wrist with a vice-like grip. She stood, yanking you up with her.The sudden upward pull made the heavily loaded diaper droop and sag dramatically between your legs. The full, sticky weight pulled downward, peeling slightly away from your skin before settling even heavier and messier than before.
You waddled beside her down the hallway, cheeks burning, the thick padding forcing your thighs apart. Fine, you thought, clinging to a small flicker of relief despite how vicious and cold she was being. At least I’ll finally get out of this fucking diaper. She’ll change me, tuck me in, and I can reset.
The nursery door flew open. The familiar scent of baby powder and lavender oils greeted you. On pure habit, you immediately waddled toward the changing table, already reaching up to climb onto the padded surface, eager for relief.
But Layla’s grip stayed firm around your wrist, stopping you mid-step. “Uh… what do you think you’re doing?”
You froze, mumbling around the pacifier, confused. “I… d-diapy ch-change?”
She let out a short, disbelieving scoff and folded her arms across her chest. The cool, unimpressed look in her eyes made your stomach twist. “What makes you think you deserve one of those? You act like a total shithead all day, and you actually expect me to change your poopy diaper??”
The words landed like a slap. You shifted on your feet, the mess squishing again. “I.. I was just uncomfortable… it’s yucky an-and—”
“Just because you have a dirty diaper does NOT mean you get to act like a spoiled little brat.” Her voice stayed calm, almost bored, but there was steel underneath. She didn’t move toward the wipes or powder. She just stood there, arms crossed, watching you quiver in front of the changing table you weren’t allowed to climb on.
You blinked rapidly, feeling your eyes begin to water. The last traces of defiance drained out of you in an instant. “B-but… it’s really messy…”
“Too fucking bad,” Layla said flatly, her voice ice-cold and completely detached. “You made that stinky present, and now you get to cuddle with it for all of naptime.”
She stepped past you to the crib, flipped the latch with a practiced flick, and slid the wooden railing down with a heavy clack. The plastic-covered mattress gleamed under the soft nursery light. She patted it twice like a judge with a gavel. “Up.”
Your face burned hot. Your body felt small and shaky. Your voice dropped to a meek whisper. “M-mommy… please? I’ll be good…”
“Too late for that, baby.” She gripped your wrist again, firmer this time, and tugged you over to the edge of the crib. The messy diaper flopped and swayed with every reluctant step, the cooled load shifting heavily against your skin.
You were already slipping deep into submissive headspace. Your cheeks flushed deeper, eyes turning glassy. “I’m sorry, Mommy… I didn’t mean to be bad…”
“I know you’re sorry,” she replied, sounding completely unmoved. “But sorry doesn’t earn you a clean diaper.”
It was sinking in now, really sinking in. She was serious. No change. No wipes. Just… this.
“Go on.” She nodded toward the mattress and delivered a firm, encouraging swat to the seat of your bulging diaper, making the mush spread wider, pressing it intimately against you.
Your chin quivered as you climbed up. The second your bottom settled onto the crib mattress, the loaded diaper squished loudly against the plastic sheet. You cringed hard, a tiny embarrassed squeak escaping around your pacifier as the warm, sticky mess redistributed, coating more of your skin.
Tears welled up instantly, spilling over. “I’m s-s-sorry Mommy! I’m so s-so sorry! Please change me! PLEASE!”
The words came out muffled and pathetic through the pacifier, but desperation made you keep going, as if that might somehow fix it.
Mommy didn’t react with sympathy. She reached into the corners of the crib for the restraints she hadn’t used in weeks. The soft leather cuffs dangled from short chains anchored to the frame. You didn’t fight as she took your wrists and buckled them snugly. Left, then right. Then your ankles. The chains gave you only a few inches of movement. You could wiggle, but you couldn’t reach down to touch or adjust the front of your diaper. The realization made fresh tears roll down your cheeks.
You spat the pacifier out, letting it drop onto your chest. Switching to the babytalk she usually loved, you pleaded, “I’ll be a good boy! I’ll dwink all my juice! I’ll stack all da bwocks! I’ll pway patty cakes! Pweez, Mommy! PWEEEZ!!”
She picked up the discarded pacifier and set it aside. Instead, she opened the drawer below the crib and pulled out the oversized one. The thick, bulbous silicone one with the locking strap. Your eyes widened.
“I’m sorry sweetie,” she said, but her expression held no real remorse. Just that cool, distant authority. “But this is the bed you made for yourself, so now you have to lay in it.”
She pushed the oversized pacifier against your lips. You opened automatically, but the thick bulb forced your jaw wide, stretching your mouth full. The silicone filled you completely, pressing down on your tongue. She buckled the strap behind your head, tight enough to keep it secure. The familiar pacifier was gone, this one turned every sound into a muffled, helpless noise.
“Nap time, little one.” She planted one cool kiss on your sweaty forehead, then pulled the miniature blanket up over your body, tucking the edges neatly. The stupid teddy bear was shoved gently under your armpit. “Maybe three hours in a full diaper will reset you a bit.”
Your eyes widened in panic. A desperate, high-pitched whine escaped around the thick pacifier as the reality crashed down on you. You immediately started struggling, yanking hard against the wrist and ankle restraints. The chains rattled loudly as you twisted and pulled, bucking your hips and kicking your legs as much as the short tethers would allow.
“Mmmph! Mmmphhh!” you cried desperately, the oversized pacifier turning your pleas into pathetic, muffled noises. Tears poured down your face as you thrashed. "MMMPH!!! MMPPPPHHHH!!"
Every frantic movement made the heavy, sticky mess in your diaper shift and squish obscenely. The cooled load smeared further across your skin, pressing into every crease, the mush spreading warmer and more disgustingly with each tug and wiggle. The more you fought, the worse it got, but you couldn’t stop. Panic had taken over.
Layla simply watched you with that same cold, detached expression, completely unmoved by your breakdown.
You kept struggling, sobbing around the giant pacifier, chains clattering, the messy diaper loudly squelching with every desperate motion. The humiliation burned through you, but the fear of three long hours trapped like this was stronger.
Mommy reached for the crib railing and lifted it with a solid, final click, locking it into place. The bars rose smoothly, sliding up between you and the rest of the nursery. From the other side she looked down at you: wrists and ankles restrained, thick messy diaper prominently on display beneath the blanket, face streaked with tears and flushed with humiliated submission.
“Mommy will be back to check on you later,” she said calmly. Then, with the faintest smirk, she added, “Maybe…”
She flicked on the overhead mobile. The colorful animals began to spin slowly, playing their soft, mocking lullaby, twinkling notes that felt far too cheerful for your situation.
“Sleep tight,” she whispered. She reached through the bars one last time, pressing her palm firmly against the front of your diaper and giving it a slow, deliberate squish. The mess shifted everywhere, warm and clinging. “Don’t let the diaper rash bite.”
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.
Look at Him Go
I was curled up on the couch, legs tucked beneath me, lazily scrolling through my phone while cheerful songs drifted from the television in the background. The living room was bright with afternoon sunlight pouring through the big windows, warm and peaceful.
A faint rustling caught my ear. I glanced up at the trees outside, their leaves dancing gently in the breeze. Probably just the wind. I thought, and went back to scrolling through my phone.
Another rustle. A little closer this time.
I looked over at the corner where our golden retriever was curled up in his bed, snoring softly, one paw twitching in a dream. Not him.
The sound came again. Soft, rhythmic, unmistakable now that I was really listening. It was accompanied by the quiet crinkle of plastic. I finally lowered my phone and looked down at the floor.
There he was, my husband, lying on his tummy on the thick play mat, wearing nothing but his puffy diaper, and a cute little t-shirt too small to cover it. His pacifier bobbed between his lips as he...bobbed. Secret little wriggles, hips shifting in tiny, guilty movements he clearly hoped I wouldn’t notice.
“Honey?” I said softly.
He jumped a little, eyes wide, freezing like a deer in headlights, cheeks already flushing pink behind the shield have the pacifier. Then he quickly looked down at the mat like he could hide from me.
“You sure are doing a lot of wriggling over there, sweetheart...”
He didn’t say a word. Just suckled his paci, obviously scrambling for some excuse.
I leaned forward, tucking my hair behind my ears so I could see him better. “Are you… trying to make humpies?”
His blush deepened instantly, spreading all the way to his ears. He couldn’t meet my eyes. As if by avoiding my gaze he could make this whole situation go away.
“Awww! It’s okay, hunny!! No need to be embarwassed! You’re not in trouble!”
He peeked up at me then, eyes wide with surprise behind the pacifier still working anxiously in his mouth. His chin was already a little shiny with drool.
I smiled warmly. “It’s okay. Honest! You put up such a fuss about your diapers for so long! Mommy’s happy that you’re coming to accept them and… enjoy them.” I sat back on the couch once more. “So go on… have your fun!”
He hesitated, searching my face, clearly unsure if this was some kind of test. But after a long moment of nothing else being said, his hips began to move again. Slowly at first, testing the waters. Then gradually picking up pace with growing need.
I pretended to go back to my phone, thumb scrolling through videos I wasn’t really seeing, wanting to give him the illusion of a little privacy while he “did his business.” But my eyes kept drifting back to him. I couldn’t help it.
There he was: a grown man, my husband, someone who used to stand in boardrooms and run high-stakes projects, now reduced to this on our living room floor. Humping his own thick diaper like a desperate, clumsy little pup who couldn’t help himself. It was so ridiculous. So pitiful. And yet...it filled me with the deepest, warmest sense of satisfaction I’d ever felt in our marriage.
He used to fight this so hard when we first started the restructuring. When the diapers went from the occasional “punishment” to an everyday reality.
He would throw full tantrums. Tears, yelling, begging, swearing that he hated them. That he could never, ever enjoy them. He’d safeword out of scenes, withdraw for days, insist it was “too much,” “too humiliating,” “not who he was.” I had to be firm and consistent, even when it was difficult. It was a long, painful, arduous process.
And now look at him.
His hips ground into the floor in short, awkward little ruts at first, the thick padding between his legs forcing them apart and making every movement clumsy and limited. The diaper was already plump and swollen from his morning wetting, the front puffy and slightly yellowed, the tapes stretched tight around his waist. I could tell his poor little penis wasn’t angled quite right inside the pamper. He kept shifting, frustrated, his hands twitching as if fighting the urge to reach down and adjust himself. But he knew the rule: no touching. Ever.
The crinkling was loud and constant, almost comical, each thrust producing a wet-sounding crinkle beneath the cartoon’s distant singing.
Every now and then he’d turn his head just enough to glance back at me, checking if the coast was clear, like a naughty little tottler trying to sneak something forbidden. Each time he saw me “absorbed” in my phone, he’d look away again and resume those pitiful little movements. I could see the shame burning in his face: the way his ears stayed red, the way he kept his eyes fixed on the mat as if staring hard enough might make him invisible. And yet it wasn’t enough to stop him. That only made it sweeter.
Part of me wondered if I should have changed his diaper first. The padding was heavily yellowed and plump, making an almost fat lump flat on the floor, but he didn’t seem to mind at all. If anything, the extra warmth and squish seemed to excite him more. His movements grew bolder, hips pressing down harder against the mat, grinding the bulky, cushiony front against his sensitive parts. His whole body looked so helpless like this. Legs slightly kicked out, feet sliding on the mat, back arched just a little in that pathetic attempt to get more friction. A successful, intelligent man reduced to rutting against his own soaked diaper. The sight made my heart flutter with affection and something deeper, something possessive. This was the proof. All those months of pushing him, of holding the line when he cried and protested, had led to this exact moment. He wasn’t enduring the diapers anymore. He was using them. Willingly. Right in front of me.
He didn’t make eye contact with me. He didn’t look my way at all after those quick checks. As if staring off into the distance would make him look more non-chalant, despite him straining his little face. Faint, humiliated whimpers and grunts slipped out every few thrusts—soft, breathy sounds he probably thought were quiet. I wondered if he even knew how loud he was being, even while trying so hard to stay inconspicuous. Drool was dripping steadily now from the corner of his mouth onto the mat, forming a small shiny puddle beneath his chin. I made a quiet mental note to myself: we’d definitely need bibs or burp cloths during tummy time from now on if this was going to become a regular thing. The pacifier shield bobbed wildly as he sucked harder, trying to soothe himself while his body chased that building pleasure.
His movements grew a little more frantic, hips jerking in pitiful, uncoordinated bursts. The thick diaper squished audibly with every desperate hump, the swollen padding compressing and shifting between his spread thighs. His legs gave tiny, helpless kicks, toes curling inside his socks. He looked so ridiculous. So completely lost in the act that it made my chest tighten with love. This was what I had wanted all along. Not just control, but this deep, total acceptance. He had fought it with everything he had, and now here he was, grinding away like he couldn’t stop even if the world was watching.
His pace quickened. If he was trying to be quiet, he was failing miserably. His whole body began to tremble. His nose whistled with each quick breath. The grunts turned into longer, needier whimpers. Then, he tensed. Hard. Back arching, legs straightening, hands clutching at the edge of the blankie as he came in his diaper with a long, muffled whine around the pacifier. His hips gave a few final, twitching thrusts before he collapsed flat against the mat, breathing hard, clearly overwhelmed.
I let the moment stretch for several seconds, letting him have his little humpie high. Then I asked as sweet as possible, keeping my tone light and non-judgmental:
“All done?”
He gave the tiniest, most ashamed little nod, face still hidden. I could practically feel the post-nut clarity crashing over him. The sticky warmth spreading inside the already wet padding, the sudden wave of humiliation at what he’d just done while I sat there watching. I didn't say anything else. I didn't need to. He probably had enough internal dialogue going on already.
I thought again about changing his diaper. It was visibly swollen and discolored now, sagging heavily between his legs. But I pushed the thought aside. No. I wanted him to sit in that diaper. To really feel it. Every warm, sticky reminder of what he’d done in his pamper. So I simply went back to scrolling on my phone and let the quiet settle over the room. Giving him time. Letting it all soak in.
The cartoon kept singing cheerfully in the background, bright and innocent. A few peaceful minutes drifted by. The only sounds were the occasional soft, squishy crinkles as he shifted restlessly on the mat, the heavy, used diaper compressing and rustling beneath his weight. Then, quietly at first, I heard the rustling start again.
Wait... Again??
My thumb froze on the phone screen for a second as genuine surprise washed over me. Already? After barely a few minutes? After that intense first orgasm and all the shame that should have followed? I hadn’t expected this. Not this quickly. A warm rush of shock, delight, and deep satisfaction bloomed in my chest.
Look at him go!
My sweet, stubborn husband, the man who used to fight every single diaper with tears and tantrums, was already going back for sloppy seconds in his own messy, cum-soaked pamper like he couldn’t help himself.
I didn’t say a word. I didn’t want to embarrass him further. I mean, it was embarrassing: a grown man desperately humping his own wet, sticky diaper right there on the living room floor. But this… this was so good for him. Learning to enjoy what his body craved without fighting it anymore.
His hips were moving once more. Slower this time, almost exploratory, like he was savoring the slick, sticky mess he’d already made inside. The used diaper made everything sloppier, the crinkles wetter and more obscene. He ground down harder, rolling in deeper circles, clearly chasing that second release with renewed, almost frantic need. Those faint little grunts and whimpers returned, even softer this time, as if he were trying harder to stay quiet. Every so often he’d sneak another glance back at me, checking if I was still “not watching,” before turning away and resuming his pitiful humping. The shame was written all over him, but it clearly wasn’t enough to stop the desperate little ruts.
His movements grew more intense. Hips rolling in deeper circles, then quick little thrusts that made the heavy pamper squish between his legs. The front was visibly swollen, the padding compressed from his efforts. I wondered how it felt for him. That warm, cushiony embrace hugging his sensitive skin, the evidence of his first orgasm helping slick the way for his second.
I watched openly from the couch, warmth blooming low in my belly at the sight. There had been so many nights early on when I’d felt genuinely guilty enforcing this. The sound of his choked sobs while I spanked him over my knee, the way his voice would crack as he begged me not to make him use his diaper. There were evenings I’d had to turn the baby monitor off completely because I couldn’t bear to listen to him crying himself to sleep in the crib, tugging on his little restraints, trapped in a heavily soiled diaper with no way to escape the mess. I’d told myself it was necessary. That he needed to break. That the only way he’d ever truly accept this was if I held the line even when it hurt to do so.
And now here he was. All that resistance had melted into this eager, desperate acceptance. It was everything I’d worked for.
His second orgasm came even faster than the first. Usually the second was more stubborn. But apparently he was getting better at it. His breathing turned into quick pants. His body twitched harder. Then he tensed again, a long muffled whine escaping around the pacifier as he came in his already sticky diaper, hips jerking through the aftershocks before he went limp once more.
I waited until his breathing had mostly calmed, then spoke casually without looking up from my phone, voice still as sweet as could be. “Would you like a bottle, baby?” I asked, trying to sound breezy and aloof, "Perhaps you worked up a thirst?"
He shook his head quickly, flushing in embarrassment. Surely he didn't think he was being discreet?
I smiled softly to myself and let it go. I really did need to change him at this point. The front of his diaper was visibly damp and defiled now, sagging heavily between his legs from the two loads he’d pumped into it.
But then I glanced at the clock on the wall. 1:37. He usually had his afternoon poop right around 2:00. No sense in changing him just so he could dirty up a fresh one soon after. He could wait a little longer.
I stayed right where I was on the couch, scrolling.
Not long after, I heard his tell-tale grunts. Not the humpy kind of grunts. The other kind. When he was handling his...other type of business.
Unnh…unh…eh…unh…
Oh? I thought. He's a little early today...
I kept my eyes glued to my phone, pretending to be completely absorbed, watching everything from the corner of my vision so he could keep that tiny illusion of privacy and dignity. Even if it was only pretend.
Even on his tummy, I could see the subtle changes in his posture: the way his back tensed, his shoulders drew up slightly, the slow, concentrated push of his padded hips against the mat.
The back of his diaper began to crinkle and slowly balloon outward as he filled it. The seat expanded gradually, sagging heavily downward, the thick padding stretching and bulging under the weight. It was a thorough one. The warm, earthy smell drifted up toward the couch a few moments later, unmistakable and strong. I pretended not to notice, keeping my face perfectly neutral, thumb still scrolling at the same lazy pace.
He used to fight pooping his diapers with everything he had. Full-on meltdowns that could last an hour. Screaming, kicking, refusing, bargaining, tears streaming down his face. He could barely manage it even when I made him drop into a squat like a little tot, face bright red with humiliation and effort. So much time and energy spent resisting the most basic, babyish act. And now here he was, doing it face-down on his tummy on the play mat without a single word of protest, like it was the most natural thing in the world. The restructuring had worked so completely it almost took my breath away.
But oof… it was a stinky one. The smell was thick enough to make my nose wrinkle for a second before I schooled my expression again. Still, I didn’t comment. I didn’t even acknowledge it.
But oof… it was a stinky one. The smell was thick enough to make my nose wrinkle for a second before I schooled my expression again. Still, I didn’t comment. I didn’t even acknowledge it.
When he finally finished, he stayed very still for a long moment, clearly processing the heavy, warm mess now packed against him. Then he turned his head just enough to glance back at me, eyes wide and hopeful, clearly desperate and grossed out, silently begging for a change. The shame was written all over his flushed face—the way his pacifier worked anxiously between his lips, the way his hands clenched and unclenched against the mat. He looked so small. So pitiful. A grown man sitting in his own heavy, stinky diaper, hoping Mommy would take pity on him.
But I kept my eyes on my phone, calm and unbothered, as if nothing at all was happening. He knew better than to ask. He knew the rules by now.
Besides, I wanted to conduct a little experiment.
I wanted to see what would happen if I left him like this for a while, trapped in that heavy, warm, messy diaper on his tummy, no relief in sight, the evidence of everything he’d done today squishing and shifting with even the smallest movement. So I stayed quiet, scrolling, my heart beating a little faster with quiet anticipation and satisfaction. All those early struggles, all the guilt I’d sometimes felt enforcing his new reality… it had led to this. Total surrender.
Sure enough, after a few quiet minutes of nothing but the soft sounds of the cartoon and the occasional creak of the play mat, I heard the faint, rhythmic rustling start again…
Hotwife Humiliation
"Don't even think about it kiddo."
"Maybe back when you were able to look at me in a bikini without soaking your pants like a little kid watching a scary movie, we could have had a little adult fun, but nowadays the only thing YOU'LL be having fun with are those cute little pampers around your waist. I bet you're already feeling to urge to squirt, aren't you?"
"It's much preferable like this anyways, you get to keep your pants all nice and dry from any little premature messes and I get to go and have fun with men who don't need a diaper check every ten minutes. I know you'd prefer to have me all to yourself but let's be real; we both know that little thing isn't graduating from pampers anytime soon, right?"
"But don't worry, I'll make sure I bring my dates to the nursury so you can watch us and get your little rocks off. I know how much you love watching other men breed your wife. But while they get to spurt inside your wife, you'll be squirting your little load inside your pampers, exactly where it belongs.'
(all characters above 18)😏i know much of you will googoo on this one 😛 inspiration comes from now defunct "hubbies..com" art (thank you Susan Flannery) on this précise scene. The story is however mine. Enjoy!
Story:
Margaret had read every disgusting word in her son’s journal. The detailed plans to take Emily to prom, get her drunk, and “fuck her raw like a cheap whore,” to “pump her full until she’s leaking my cum all night.” The arrogance. The disrespect. The attitude.
Punishment was no longer optional. It was total.
The afternoon before prom, she dragged her protesting, muscular 19-year-old son into his newly converted nursery. The room smelled of baby powder and baby lotion. A large crib with locking rails dominated one wall. The changing table was stocked like a professional nursery: stacks of extra-thick terry cloth diapers, boosters, plastic pants, pins, creams, and lubricants.
“Strip,” Mommy ordered coldly.
When he hesitated, she slapped his bare ass hard and yanked his clothes off herself. Naked and furious, he was lifted onto the changing table like an oversized toddler. Mommy took her time.
First, she slathered his entire groin, cock, balls, and bottom in thick white lotion, rubbing it in slowly, deliberately teasing his shaft until it was half-hard and twitching with unwanted shame. Then came the diaper rash cream — two generous fingers scooping the thick paste and spreading it liberally over his hole and under his balls, making sure every inch was protected “like a proper baby’s privates.”
Heavy clouds of baby powder followed. She shook the bottle for a full minute, coating him until he was dusted head to toe in sweet, humiliating scent. The powder clung to his lotion-slick skin, turning him into a fragrant nursery toy.
Now the diapering began.
Mommy unfolded the first massive terry diaper ...already thicker than most adult ones...and slid it under his lifted hips. She added a second full diaper on top, then folded a third booster pad thickly in the middle for maximum absorbency and bulk. She pulled the layers up tightly between his legs, the padding forcing his thighs apart in a wide, infantile waddle. With practiced hands she pinned it shut using two oversized yellow diaper pins, one on each side, making sure it was snug but not too tight : she wanted room for the inevitable mess.
But she wasn’t done. A crinkly, clear plastic diaper cover with little duckies was pulled over the bulging terry bundle and snapped tightly at the legs and waist. The final result was obscene: an enormous, pillow-like diaper that made his muscular legs look comically small and bowed.
A baby-blue bib with a smiling rubber ducky was tied around his neck.
He was already whimpering in humiliation.
Mommy wasn’t satisfied yet.
“Babies need their bottoms properly prepared,” she cooed, pushing his knees back to his chest and exposing him completely. She opened a large jar of baby Vaseline and scooped out a huge glob with two fingers.
“Relax your little hole, sweetheart. Mommy’s going to make sure you’re nice and open for all the big poopoos you’ll be making from now on.”
He clenched. She slapped his thigh sharply. Then her slick fingers circled his tight anus, spreading the thick petroleum jelly around the rim before slowly pushing inside. One finger. Then two. She twisted and scissored gently but relentlessly, working the Vaseline deep into his passage, coating every inch of his insides.
“Feel that, baby? Mommy’s opening you up like a good little diaper slut. This hole is going to be soft, puffy, and ready to push out huge loads whenever I decide.”
She added more Vaseline, a third finger, stretching him wider, fucking him slowly with her fingers while narrating every detail. His cock throbbed traitorously against the thick diaper front despite his tears. She kept going for nearly fifteen humiliating minutes until his anus was visibly relaxed, shiny, and gaping slightly — a perfect, well-trained baby bottom.
Only then did she pull the plastic cover back up and pat the massively padded crotch. “There. All ready for your first public accident.”
Five minutes before Emily’s arrival, Mommy bent him over the changing table again, pulled the diaper cover and back of the terry down just enough, and slid a fat, melting glycerin suppository deep into his well-Vaselined hole. She pushed it in with two fingers, twisting and pressing until it was lodged far inside where it would work fastest.
“Perfect. Now we wait for the show.”
The living room.
He stood gripping the armchair, knees bent, muscles trembling, face already beet-red. The suppository was working brutally fast. Mommy stood beside him, one hand on his shoulder, smiling serenely.
The front door opened.
Emily stepped inside in her stunning emerald prom dress, looking radiant and froze in absolute shock at the sight of her date: shirtless, bibbed, and wearing an enormous, obvious diaper.
Before she could even speak, a violent cramp hit him.
“Oh… fuck…” he gasped.
Mommy leaned in lovingly. “Coochie-coo! Does the poopoo train finally arriving at the diaper depot? Oh yeeees it is! Push for Mommy and your pretty date, baby. Push like the helpless little diaper boy you are.”
Emily’s hand flew to her mouth, but her eyes sparkled with growing fascination.
He tried desperately to hold it. His face turned purple. Veins stood out on his neck. A long, wet fart escaped into the thick padding.
Then the first push came against his will.
“Nnnngh…!” He grunted loudly, thighs shaking. The massive log began to crown, stretching his well-lubricated hole. He pushed again — harder — and a thick, crackling, warm mass began filling the seat of his diaper. Emily watched, mesmerized, as the back of the triple-thick terry visibly expanded and sagged.
“Again, baby. Push number two!” Mommy encouraged sweetly.
He bore down with a deep, humiliated grunt. A huge, soft, messy wave exploded into the diaper, spreading everywhere, squelching audibly as it filled the booster and pushed the padding outward. The smell bloomed instantly ...heavy, earthy, unmistakably baby.
Third push. Even bigger. He was panting now, tears of shame rolling down his cheeks while his prom date watched him defecate like a toddler.
Fourth, final, longest push : a long, wet, crackling avalanche that made the seat of his diaper droop heavily between his legs, the plastic cover straining to contain the enormous load. The diaper was unmistakably full, sagging, lumpy, and brown at the edges.
Immediately after, a powerful, hissing torrent of pee flooded the front, swelling the already massive padding even further until it was warm, heavy, and squishing with every tiny movement.
Emily stepped closer, eyes wide with delight at his total degradation.
“Oh my God… you actually shit yourself. In front of me. Like a literal baby.” She laughed softly, then her voice dropped into exaggerated, breathy moans.
“Mmmhhh...Ohhh yes, baby… that’s it… push all that big nasty poopoo into your didee for me. Just like you wanted to push that cock into my tight little pussy tonight, right? You wanted to stretch me open and fill me up like a whore?” She moaned louder, biting her lip theatrically. “Aaaahhh~ But instead you’re the one getting filled, aren’t you? Your big strong body reduced to grunting out stinky messes while I watch.”
Mommy guided him down onto the rug on his belly. “Tummy time, baby. Show Emily how you hump your loaded diapers from now on.”
The squelch was loud and obscene as his massive, warm mess compressed beneath him. He started grinding slowly, humiliated beyond words.
Emily crouched beside him, continuing her relentless, moaning commentary:
“Ohhh fuuuck yes, hump that messy didee, you pathetic little diaper humper~ Mmmhh~ That’s how you thought you’d fuck me? Grinding and thrusting like a desperate animal? Only now it’s just warm poop and piss squishing against your worthless cock. You’ll never feel real pussy again. Just loaded, stinky diapers every single day.”
She leaned in closer, voice dripping venom and arousal. “And Mommy told me the best part. Soon your balls will be drained dry every day by women watching you. Then she’ll tie that dick up tight and milk you like a cow, squeezing every drop out while you cry. In a few weeks you’ll have a tiny baby micropenis that spurts helplessly the second you start pooping your diaper. You’ll cum every time you mess yourself like a true infant. No control. No manhood left.”
She moaned even louder, right next to his ear. “Hump faster, baby~ Let me hear those squishes. Imagine me at prom getting fucked by a real man while you’re locked in your crib, marinating in your own cum and shit. Aaaahhh~ Yes, just like that! Grind it in deep!”
The humiliation, the smell, the wet squelching, Emily’s filthy moaning, and the constant promises of future degradation pushed him over the edge.
His thrusts became frantic, animalistic. His face was buried in the rug, sobbing and grunting. The heavy, messy diaper made loud, wet, filthy sounds with every desperate hump.
Then the orgasm hit...violently.
Thick, powerful ropes of cum erupted from his cock, mixing with the piss and shit already filling the front of his diaper. Spurt after heavy spurt, longer and more intense than any he’d ever had, each one accompanied by broken, humiliated cries. His whole body shook as he emptied his balls completely into the destroyed, sagging mess, the warm wetness spreading everywhere.
Emily clapped and laughed delightedly. “He came! The baby actually came in his poopy diaper while I watched! What a perfect little pervert.”
Mommy patted his head. “Good boy. Say thank you to Emily for helping with your first public tummy time.”
“…Th-thank you… Emily…”
Emily stood up, still giggling, smoothing her prom dress. “I’m going to have so much fun telling everyone at prom about this. Enjoy your crib and that loaded diaper all night, stinky baby. Maybe I’ll come visit tomorrow and watch round two.”
She left the house laughing brightly, the sound echoing long after the door closed.
Mommy lifted her broken, sobbing, heavily loaded son into her arms. His sagging, cum-piss-shit-filled diaper swung heavily between his legs as she carried him upstairs to the crib.
“Night night, baby. Tomorrow the whole family and several neighbors are coming over for your next special tummy time. And this was only the beginning of your permanent babyfication.”
The crib bars locked shut with a final, metallic click.
His new life of endless, public, diaper-soiling humiliation had officially begun.
Mommy,ABDL,Ageplay,Diaper
After discovering his secret stash of adult diapers and hours of diaper porn on his computer, she didn’t hesitate. She immediately cleared out their spare room, painting it blush pink, installing a sturdy adult-sized crib with bars, hanging frilly curtains, and laying out a large pink changing mat on the floor ... turning it into his permanent nursery of shame. Then she dragged him inside, stripped his clothes off despite his protests, and forced him back into diapers the way he secretly craved but now dreads in reality.
Pinning the big, muscular man down on the changing mat, she powdered his ass heavily, slid a thick disposable diaper with cute pink prints under him, and taped it on snug and tight while he squirmed and begged. The loud crinkle echoed in the room as she sealed his fate.
Now, in the fully transformed pink nursery, she grips him firmly by the neck from behind, yanking the freshly diapered adult baby back like a disobedient toddler. His face burns with humiliation, muscles flexing uselessly as he’s overpowered right in front of the crib, the thick, padded diaper forcing his legs apart.
“I don’t care that you don’t like it,” she hisses into his ear, voice full of wicked satisfaction. “You should have thought about it before I found your diapers and that disgusting diaper porn. I put you right back where you belong ...in diapers, in this nursery, and under my complete control. From now on I’m Mommy, and this is how it’s going to be: you’ll be kept in thick diapers 24/7, changed only when I decide, fed in a high chair, and put down for naps in the crib with a pacifier taped in your mouth. You’ll crawl everywhere, use only your diapers like the baby you are, and I’ll invite my friends over to see what a pathetic, diapered mess my husband has become. I’ll spank that padded ass whenever you act up, and if you refuse any of it, I’ll divorce you and expose every filthy fantasy you’ve ever had. You’re a baby now. That’s it. No more husband, no more man ... just my helpless, crinkly little diaper boy on permanent display.”
Trapped, exposed, and fully babyfied, he can only whimper as the thick diaper crinkles with every movement, sealing his new life as her humiliated, exhibition-ready adult baby.
ABDL / AGEPLAY / MDLB / MOMMY
Seen And Not Smelled
“So we just finished up dinner at the restaurant," Tessa explained, "and we get back in my car—because of course I had to drive— and what does he do?? He pulls out a fucking strap-on and asks me if I’ll peg him!”
*gasp!*
“Noooo!”
"Stahhp!!
“He had it with him the whole time?!”
“Yup. Full harness, dildo, veins and everything. Just chilling in his bag ready to go, apparently.”
“And what did you say?”
“Oh, I was PISSED!”
“I know, right? I would be too! I mean, this was y’all’s first date and y’all had been talking for—what? Two days?? And he asks you to PEG him?!”
“Oh, I wasn’t offended by that.” Tessa said, waving it off and taking a sip of her wine. “I was offended that he brought one that was so goddamn small.”
“WHAAAT?!?!” The girls shrieked in surprise.
“So what did you do??”
Tessa crooked an eyebrow like it was the most obvious answer in the world. “I grabbed mine out of the trunk. Three sizes bigger. Then I drove around to the back of the restaurant, bent him over that same trunk, and fucked his ass right then and there.”
The girls howled with laughter. Hands smacking their thighs as they rolled around on the cushions of the couch.
“He swore up and down that he couldn’t take it. That it was ‘too big’…” Tessa continued, smiling victoriously. “but I made it fit. Made him squeal like a pig, too. Fucked him so hard he jizzed all over the concrete like a little bitch without me even touching his little dick!”
Priya almost snorted wine out of her nose.
Lauren wheezed. “And then what?”
Tessa shrugged, taking another sip. “I drove off. Left him by the dumpster with his pants down and his asshole gaped open. That’s what he gets for making me split the tab!”
The room lost it. Maeve wiping tears of laughter from her eyes before her mascara ran, Lauren doubled over clutching her stomach, Sara fanning herself like she might faint from secondhand glee.
“God DAMN, you’re ruthless! I love it.”
Priya tried to speak through giggles. “Okay, well my story isn’t that good, but I did have one guy last week that—”
She stopped cold. Nose wrinkled.
“Uhh… do you guys smell that?”
Lauren sniffed, face twisting. “Oh! God…yeah. That’s poop.”
Tessa’s eyes flicked down. “Uh… Maeve?”
They all collectively turned their attention from her, to the middle of the floor.
Noah had been there the whole time, kneeling quietly among his Lego bricks, thick cartoon-printed diaper crinkling faintly with every tiny shift.
Maeve sighed, small and resigned. She set her glass down.
“Noah,” she said sweetly, “honey…” she leaned forward and dropped her volume, as if she was about to have a discreet conversation even though all eyes and ears of the girls around could very much hear. “Did you make a stinky, sweetie?” She asked, “Did you have a little…accident?”
Noah didn’t answer. Couldn’t. His face flushed deeper than crimson, eyes glued to the half-finished Lego structure. A tiny, involuntary whimper escaped.
The girls exchanged glances.
Maeve let out a long exhale, then stood up slowly, smoothing her skirt. She walked over, and crouched behind him. Without ceremony she lifted the hem of his t-shirt, exposing the waistband of the diaper. One manicured finger hooked inside the back elastic and tugged it open just enough to peer in.
A pause. Then a low, tired groan.
“Yup,” she muttered, letting the elastic snap back. “Full load. Great timing, babe.”
She stayed crouched there for a second, rubbing her temple.
“Noah...didn't I tell you that tonight you were supposed to be seen and not heard? Did you not thinking that included smelled as well?” She exhaled hard through her nose. “Did you really have to do this right now? In front of my friends?”
Noah’s lower lip trembled, tears welling up in his eyes. "I'm s-sorry, Mommy. I had to go but I didn't want to interwupt and I didn't know what to do so I...I..." A soft, choked sob escaped...then another. His whole body shook with quiet, humiliated crying.
Maeve’s face softened immediately. All exasperation and frustration vanishing instantly.
“Oh, baby…” she whispered, wrapping her arms around him from behind, pulling him back against her chest in a gentle hug.
“I’m s-s-sorry, Mommy,” he choked out between sobs. “I’m so sorry. The girls are mad at me now. They’re mad and they hate me. I’m gwoss. I’m so gross and I ruined everything! I ruined girls’ night. I didn’t mean to!! I tried to hold it but I couldn’t and now everyone’s mad and the night is ruined because of m-m-me…”
He was having a full-on meltdown. So used to constantly being in Little Space that he forgot what it was like to hold back and save a little dignity. He cried and blubbered and let it all out.
Maeve immediately wrapped her arms around him and rocked him slowly, one hand cradling the nape of his neck, the other patting his heavy, sagging diaper in steady, comforting rhythms. “Shhh!! It’s okay, baby. Mommy’s sorry. I didn’t mean to be so hard on you. You couldn’t help it, could you? I know, sweetie. I know...”
She pressed a kiss to the top of his head, rocking him until the sobs eased into sniffles, until his breathing slowed and he leaned into her like he always did when he felt small and safe.
But the room was dead silent. Several long, awkward, heavy beats passed. No laughter, no quick quips, just the faint crinkle of Noah’s diaper as he curled tighter, shoulders shaking with quiet, mortified sobs.
Then Tessa—bold, unflappable Tessa—leaned forward, voice dropping into that warm, deliberate tone she used when she was about to take charge of an awkward moment.
“Hey…" she said softly, leaning forward on the couch, locking eyes with Noah, "...I heard someone has a poopy diaper,” a small smirk creeping up the side of her lip.
Noah's sobbing stopped with a hiccup, panicked.
“And it smells pretty yucky, huh?" Tessa continued, "Like...really gross. Big, stinky, full-on messy load.” She paused, letting the words settle without flinching. “But you know what?”
Noah braced for a brutal remark, something to scold and humiliate him, but it never came. Instead, Tessa smiled.
"It's okay." she said simply.
Noah’s sobs hitched. He lifted his head just enough to peek at her, eyes red-rimmed and incredulous, like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Slowly, hesitantly, he leaned his head off Maeve’s chest, still sniffling, still clinging to her shirt with one fist.
Priya, catching on, smiled and leaned forward. "Aww! Is somewon embarwessed of that big lumpy load in their diapee? Hmm?" She didn’t wait for an answer, just tilted her head, letting a small, knowing smile creep in. "Did you really think we don't know what you do in those things?" she scoffed lightly, teasing but warm "Please! We know all about your pamper-pooping habits. Your mommy's told us all the stories!"
“Yeah…” Lauren joined in, softer, almost conspiratorial. “Did you think a little stink would scare us away? Come on… Like we haven’t heard about the blowouts in the park… or that time at the coffee shop when you two had to duck into the family restroom for an emergency change. We’ve been briefed, baby.”
Noah’s breathing slowed. The tears still slipped down his cheeks, but the frantic edge had dulled. His wide eyes moved from face to face, searching, waiting for the judgment that never came.
Tessa leaned forward reaching out her hand to beckon him. “Come here, little one." she said "Let me check you.”
He glanced at Maeve for reassurance, who smiled and nodded. She gave him an encouraging squeeze before letting him crawl over until he was close enough for Tessa's reach.
"Well go on..." she said, spinning her finger, "turn around so I can see your diaper."
Noah flushed a fresh fuchsia color on his cheeks, hanging his head a bit in shyness as he crinkled around in a circle, exposing his bottom.
There was only a hint of hesitation as Tessa reached out, her palm resting lightly against the thick, sagging seat of Noah's diaper. Lifting it and testing the weight of the heavy load before letting it plop back down.
"Mmm-hmm," Tessa murmured, giving the padded bottom a gentle pat, "That's definitely full!" She leaned in a little bit, giving a sniff, then recoiled. "Oof! Yea! And stinky too!!"
Noah whimpered, flipping back around in shy embarrassment. But Tessa still smiled. “See?” she said. “Still here. Not running. Not grossed out. Nothing scary about that. Just means the diaper did its job. And you did yours.”
Priya mirrored her, extending a finger to poke the side of the bulge, testing the give, like she was checking ripeness on fruit. A soft crinkle-squish. She raised an eyebrow at Maeve.
“Your mommy thinks we’ve never smelled a dirty diaper before. As if we don’t know exactly what kind of boyfriend she’s got.”
Lauren leaned in last, giving the padded bottom a single, affectionate squeeze, enough to make Noah squeak and bury his face deeper, but the squeeze lingered warm and steady.
“We expected you to dookie in your diaper eventually,” she murmured. “It’s what diapers are for, silly! That's why you wear them. No one’s mad. Promise.”
Noah’s lower lip quivered once more, but this time the tears that fell were slower, quieter. He sniffled hard, wiped his nose on the back of his wrist, and—almost against his will—a tiny, wobbly smile flickered at the corner of his mouth.
Maeve exhaled a long, shaky breath of relief. She rubbed slow circles on his back and looked around the circle at her friends, eyes shining. “Thank you,” she whispered. “All of you.”
Tessa just shrugged one shoulder, still smiling down at Noah. “Told you. We’re not going anywhere.”
Maeve swallowed, nodded, thanked them again for their understanding, then stood up straight. “I’m going to take him to the bedroom and change him real fast. I’ll be right—”
"What?"
"No way!" Priya waved her off. "Don’t hide the fun! He’s right here. Change him on the floor. We want the full show!”
Lauren nodded eagerly. “Yeah, come on. Live entertainment. We’ve seen the meltdown, might as well get the rest.”
Tessa leaned closer. “Please? It’s hilarious. And...kind of hot. In a weird way.”
“Okay, well… I dunno about ‘hot,’" Priya said, "but it definitely is… cute. Intimate.” She gave a small, reluctant smile.
The other girls murmured agreement, “Totally cute.”
Maeve exhaled. “Fine. But if anyone makes him cry, you’re all out.”
The girls squealed and clapped their hands in excited victory.
Maeve paused, hand still resting on Noah’s back. She looked down at hi, brushing a thumb across his damp cheek. “Baby?” she asked, voice low and private despite the audience. “You okay if Mommy changes you right here? Let the girls see how I take care of you when you have a big accident?”
Noah hesitated, eyes flicking toward the circle of faces. None of them mocking, all of them waiting with quiet patience. He swallowed hard, then gave the smallest nod. His voice came out tiny, cracked but steadying. “…Okay, Mommy.”
Maeve pressed a kiss to his head. “Alright then.”
She reached for the changing pad she kept folded nearby (always prepared), shook it out across the center of the rug, and smoothed it flat. The faint plastic crinkle seemed louder in the hushed room.
“Come here, sweetie. On your back for Mommy.”
Noah moved slowly, still shaky from the crying, still flushed, but he crawled the short distance and lay down without protest. Knees came up instinctively, arms resting stiff at his sides like he was bracing himself. The diaper sagged heavily between his thighs, the faint earthy smell still lingering in the air.
Maeve knelt beside him, putting a pacifier in his mouth to soothe him. Then ripped the tapes open one at a time with soft, sharp pops. The front panel fell away slowly, revealing the thick, messy contents. The smell bloomed stronger for a moment, no one flinched, but their noses did wrinkle.
Tessa leaned in just a fraction, voice warm and low. “Look at that… you really packed it in there, huh? Such a big, messy boy!”
Priya’s eyes widened, not in disgust, but in something closer to quiet awe. “Wow. That’s… a lot. You didn’t hold anything back, did you, sweetie?”
Lauren rested her chin in her hand, smiling softly. “It’s okay that it’s yucky. Diapers are made for yucky. You did exactly what you were supposed to!”
Maeve reached for the pack of wipes, pulling one free with a soft rustle. She started at the top. Slow, careful strokes across his lower belly, then lower still, folding the wipe and using fresh sections each time. The cool cloth made Noah twitch and suck in a small breath.
Tessa noticed. “Awww, cold wipey? Brrrrrr!!! Poor baby! Hold still!”
Maeve worked methodically, lifting his legs gently by the ankles to get underneath, wiping between cheeks, folding, wiping again. Every motion calm, practiced, loving. She didn’t rush, she let the moment breathe.
Priya watched, voice soft. “Your mommy’s so good at this. Look how gentle she is! You’re in good hands. We’re all right here!”
Maeve’s fingers moved to the creases of his thighs, cleaning the last traces with tender precision. As the wipe glided over the sensitive skin just beside his groin, Noah winced.
“Uh oh! Looks like someone’s getting hard!”
Priya leaned in a fraction, grinning. “Awww! Are you getting a boner??”
“Someone’s winkie likes the attention!” Tessa giggled, "Even when it's messy time!"
Noah’s face ignited scarlet from forehead to collarbones. He slapped both hands over his eyes with a mortified squeak, legs instinctively trying to close even as Maeve gently held them parted to finish the wipe-down. A tiny, embarrassed whimper slipped out from behind his palms.
Maeve didn’t miss a beat. She simply gave his tummy a soft, reassuring pat. “Shhh, it’s okay, baby,” she murmured, voice low and soothing. “Nothing to be shy about. You can't help it. Just a little excited from all the love and attention. That's all.”
She finished the last gentle pass with the wipe, then set it in the dirty diaper below, balled it up, put it aside, and reached for the baby powder. A generous puff of sweet-scented cloud drifted down, she rubbed it in with slow, circling palms over his bottom, between his legs, across his pelvis, careful and thorough, never lingering too long on the now-prominent erection but never shying away from it either.
Priya inhaled deeply. “Mmm… there we go! From super stinky to super fresh. Magic.”
Lauren smiled. “See? All better now. You’re our clean, sweet boy again.”
Maeve slid the fresh diaper under his hips, same cartoon pattern, thick and crinkly. She pulled the front up snug between his legs, taped one side, then the other, smoothing the waistband with her palms. Two final pats on the padded front, firm, reassuring.
“All done,” she said softly, helping him sit up.
The girls clapped like they just saw the most amazing Broadway show.
"Bravo!"
"Amazing!"
"Impressive!"
"Why don't you thank your Mommy for changing such a stinky diaper?"
Noah’s voice was clearer now, though still small and shy. “Thank you, Mommy.”
Maeve ruffled his hair. "You're welcome, sweetie." She said with a genuine smile, then glanced at the circle of women. “Now how about you apologize to the girls for pooping your pampers in front of them and interrupting girls’ night?” She followed it with a smirk and wink to let her know she wasn't too peeved.
Noah looked up at them, eyes still a little glassy, cheeks still pink, but he managed. “I’m sorry… for pooping my diaper and making it smell. And for… ruining the fun.”
Tessa shook her head immediately. “You didn’t ruin anything, sweetie. You made the night more interesting. We’re glad we got to be here for it.”
"No apologies needed,” Priya cooed.
Lauren grinned. “We think it’s cute.”
Maeve held up the balled-up soiled diaper.. “Can you be a big boy and go throw this away for Mommy, please?”
Noah nodded meekly, took it with careful fingers, and toddled off toward the kitchen, crinkling softly with each step, head a little higher despite the lingering flush on his cheeks.
The room exhaled collectively. Maeve sank back on her heels for a second, then climbed onto the couch beside Priya. She picked up her wine glass, took a long sip, and let out a quiet, grateful laugh.
Lauren spoke first, voice dreamy. “God… I want that."
Tessa snorted lightly. “Girl, you don’t even want real babies. What makes you think could handle a grown one?”
“Oh no, not that!” Lauren clarified quickly. “I don't know how you make it through more than one of those dirty diaper changes, Maeve. What I mean is… the way they look at each other. The bond they have. The connection. The trust. The intimacy. It’s...beautiful.”
Maeve sighed affectionately, a soft, genuine smile spreading. “It’s pretty great…”
Noah returned a moment later, empty-handed, cheeks still flushed but calmer. He resumed his spot on the rug without a word, picked up a Lego brick, and snapped it into place. The familiar click-click-click filled the quiet like a heartbeat.
Maeve ruffled his hair once more, then returned to the couch, picking up her wine glass.
Priya cleared her throat, grin returning. “Okay… so, back to my Tinder disaster. Where was I? Oh, right, the guy who thought that opening a door for me meant I owed him a blowjob…”
Laughter bubbled up, soft at first, then fuller. The room warmed again, the awkward spike smoothed over.
Girls’ night rolled on, Noah played with his blocks, and Maeve watched him with that quiet, loving look only she could give, knowing the night wasn’t ruined at all. It was even better now.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It takes me an embarrassingly long time to write these stories. If you enjoy them, please consider supporting me. My fans on Subscribestar got access to this story over a month ago. You can find all my stories and exclusives over there! Thanks for reading!
Katy the Babysitter- Part 2
You awoke to a soft noise coming from one of the adjacent rooms, turning over onto your front and opening you eyes. Sunlight streamed through the window, and you felt refreshed, you had slept like a baby. Maybe too much like a baby... your eyes shot open as you felt a heavy pressure around your midsection. Your hand pulled back the bedsheets, and the smell of pee hit your nose the instant you did so.
Your diaper cover didn't so such a great job, rivulets streaked down your thighs and collected in-between your legs, making a small, but noticeable puddle that spread a short distance from your body, darkening the grey sheet to an ever darker pitch.
It was at the moment the door swung open to reveal Katy, fresh from the pool in one of her signature bikinis. You quickly pulled the sheets back over you to protect your dignity, but it was too late, it was impossible to hide your accident when you had leaked so much. She raised an eyebrow at your sudden action. "Someone looks like they slept well?" She smirked, coming over to sit on the edge of your bed.
"Uh... yeah, I guess..." You started, a blush starting to form quickly on your cheeks. She giggled in response to your weak reply, as if she hadnt expected a response from you at all. "Well, time to get up, let's change that wet nappy of yours."
You spluttered at her words, in denial of your soaked protection currently nestled between your legs. "Who's to say I used the pullups??" You protested weakly, but she shot you a look as if to say "Really??"
You begrudgingly lifted the sheets and stood with a crinkle, your pullup sagging heavily around your waist as you did so. Katy noticed the wet patch on the bed, and said with wide eyes, "Woah! You really went for it huh, the bed's soaked!!"
She reached out her hand to your diaper, and felt it from the bottom to the top. "Oh," she giggled, "You just filled it up so completely that a little must have leaked out! I had a feeling that you were a bedwetter!"
You tried to come up with some kind of argument against her words, but the proof was written all over your face, and the bed as well. She led you over to the large changing table and pushed you onto it, lifting your legs and forcing you into a lying position. You began to protest this, trying to push against her hands, "You don't need to change me! Just let me go and use the shower, and I'll..."
But your whining fell on deaf ears, Katy was in her babysitting mode now. It was clear that this wasn't the first time she had had her way with an uncooperative boy that didn't want their diaper changed, and the strength in her arms acutely reflected that fact. First the diaper cover came down, and then you jolted as she suddenly tore the sides of your pullups off of your body, causing you to quickly throw your hands down to cover yourself, astounded at her cool demeanour towards all of this. It was like changing your wet pullups was just another simple routine, like going for a walk or drinking a cup of coffee. Lying prostrate on the table with your legs forced wide underneath Katy, you were suddenly overwhelmed with a wave of horniess.
To make matters worse you started to feel a cool sensation underneath your covering hands, and you looked down to see Katy using a wet wipe on your private area, slowly going around your waist, then your thighs, and then finally...
You felt immense pleasure as Katy slowly, methodically cleaned you, and your hands started to drop from covering yourself. "Katy smiled at you, "That's better, isn't it? It's a little hard to find when your hands are covering it! But even without your hands there, it's still a little bit of a challenge, hey?" She giggled, teasing you about your size. You went red in response, a retort dying in your throat.
Katy then pulled something from underneath the changing table, before your legs were swiftly lifted and placed back down onto something thick. Your lower half was then covered in powder, and before you knew it your downstairs area was enveloped completely with a thick material. Between with the sound of tape unsticking and Katy's humming you stole a glance between your legs to be met with the sight of your new prison.
A large sized pair of pampers now was nestled between your thighs, comfortably sized and taped in securely to make sure there were no leaks. Your head was spinning and you felt quite dizzy, this was all happening so fast.
Katy lightly tapped the front of your pampers, admiring her quick handiwork. "I know that you're a little old for tapes, but after your performance last night I think that you need something a little bit more protective than pullups!"
You were aghast, sitting up and swinging your legs off of the changing table to see yourself reflected in the mirror across the room. It was real, your new tape-up-nappy sat smugly between your legs, making you look even smaller than you felt.
"Look, I know what you're going to say right? "I'm a adult, I don't need to be wearing this, What's going on?" Etc, etc. But you have to face the facts. With only just a little alcohol you soaked your pants, you had another accident right after, and then you wake up this morning with a wet bet. Three big accidents all in the same night is no accident, is it?"
She stared at you with her arms crossed, until the monotony was broken when Katy's phone started to ring, and she walked into the other room to answer it.
You couldn't find your words as she stated the facts out loud, you had always had a weaker bladder than most but not usually to the extent of last night's string of mishaps. Sure you had trouble staying dry a couple of nights a month, but that didn't make you a bedwetter...
You had to admit though that the feeling of the nappy on your waist was comforting, you had never even considered that it might be a good idea to stay padded at night until your bedwetting slowed down a little bit...
You shook your head violently, what were these thoughts?? You needed to get out of here now before things would get even weirder. You followed Katy out of the room to hear her talking in the hallway to somebody on the phone.
"...Yeah he's safe, he just stayed the night here because he was in no condition to drive... Yes, he did, how did you...? Oh I see, so this has been happening for a while now. Don't stress about the bed, I had him in pullups so there's not much to clean... Nah no problems at all, he let me change him without a fuss. He's even wearing pampers right now."
Your blood went cold as you realised the subject of her conversation, your night of regression had been made known to somebody other than Katy. She clicked the phone off and turned around, starting when she noticed you standing just behind, in the doorway.
"Who were you talking to??" You demanded, embarassment flushing across your face.
Katy shrugged and turned away. "Your mom called to check if you were still here, so I just answered and let her know you were fine."
"What the hell?? Why did you tell her about what happened last night?" You exclaimed, putting your hands to your head in disbelief.
Katy just laughed as she responded, "You know, she's the one that brought up your little bedwetting habit, who do you think washes your sheets every few days when you wake up wet?? "Mr. It was just a one-off accident..." Well, good news, she's ecstatic that you've started to wear a diaper, 'cause she always wanted you in padding ever since your accidents started but just didn't know how to bring it up with you!!Looks like pampers are about to become a staple in your wardrobe..."
You felt the colour drain from your face as you realised the implications of what she was saying. Not only were you just taped into a diaper by Katy, but your family also wholeheartedly supported it. What if you had to start wearing them all the time again??? Your social life would be ruined!
"She's on her way now, so go put something over those pampers and get ready to go home please." Katy instructed, an edge to her voice. Her demeanor had obviously changed since last night, and even now you felt that she was the one in control, and you were powerless to rrsist against her. You miserably pulled up your shorts and fetched your clothes, and the moment your phone slid into your pocket, the doorbell rang.
**************************************************
One week later~
A sharp tap on your bedroom door could be clearly heard even with your headset on at your computer. You pulled your headset off to respond to the interruption. "Yeah mom, what's up?"
The door opened and your mother walked in carrying a large package of pampers, both of her arms underneath the comically large box. You rolled your eyes and turned back to your game, as she placed the box into the corner of your room, right next to one similar.
"Just restocking the supplies baby, you've been going through so many lately..." she said, almost lost in thought before taking a closer look at you in your chair.
"Hey, what did we say about wearing pants?? How am I supposed to tell if you need a change if you keep it hidden?"
You snorted, exasperated with her. Ever since that night with Katy things had just kept on getting worse for you. First it was insisted upon that you had to wear a diaper to bed, and then after a few more accidents it was during the day at all times, and now you weren't even allowed to wear pants??
You tugged your shorts down with your right hand, exposing a well taped pair of pampers hugging your waist. You had tried to learn how to change yourself, but you could never get the tapes right, and no matter how hard you tried you had to always go and ask mom for help with it.
She tsked as she noticed the faded stars on the front of your nappy. "Looks like you could use another change, but I'm running late for my appointment. I'll just leave it with thr babysitter okay? She will be here soon and will take care of it. Tell her your new diapers arrived today, okay baby?"
You nodded, once again annoyed by her. You didn't even notice when you were wet nowadays, and a soaked diaper was as normal to you as waking up in the morning. Your mother left the room, and you shifted in your seat, another warm trickle leaking into the pampers softly pressed against your body.
It wasn't long before the doorbell rang and you begrudgingly waddled to the front door to answer it. You opened the door, your soaked pampers on full display, to see Katy waving at you.
"Looks like someone needs a change again huh?"
***************************************************
Sorry for the long wait! Please enjoy and let me know what you think 🫶
Katy the Babysitter
You were desperately waiting outside the bathroom, needing to use the toilet. The night had gotten late, and the party outside had gotten lively. One by one, people had started to leave, and you'd completely lost track of time as you drank and laughed along with your friends, until the all-too-familiar pressure in your bladdar gently warned you to take your leave.
Excusing yourself, you briskly made your way to the nearest bathroom, where you were met by a firmly locked handle. As you tried to turn it, it clicked loudly, juddering to a halt. From the bathroom, you heard a faint, musical voice. "One minute!!"
Oh god, it was Katy, the host. She was housesitting for a family she usually babysat for and had decided to throw this little get-together at the last minute. So this was where she had ended up. Not five minutes ago, she had stood, drunkenly exclaiming she was going to make use of the pool, and that she hadn't brought her bikini here for nothing. No man had dared to argue with her logic. She was popular, and many eyes slid to follow her as she stumbled her way into the house to change.
You mind returning to your predicament, you let out a small whimper as your hand shot down in between your legs, trying to hold yourself until Katy finished changing and made her way back outside. You briefly considered looking for an alternative bathroom, but what if that too was in use? Then who knows how long it would take to make it to a toilet, and you didn't have the strongest bladder at the best of times.
Finally, the door in front of you opened, and Katy sauntered out, freshly changed into her new bikini, locking eyes and smiling sweetly at you. Her figure was to die for, and at the sight of the swimwear hugging her shapely body, your mind lost focus on controlling your bladder for a second too long.
You gasped as a small jet squirted out of you, dampening the fabric of your shorts, a pulse of warmth spreading quickly across your crotch. Katy noticed immediately, of course, and her hand went to her mouth in shock as you pushed your way past her into the open bathroom, slamming the cubicle door shut behind you.
You ripped down down your soaked shorts to sit on the toilet, finally finding relief. You could hear Katy laughing from outside the door. "Did I see you just wet your pants?"
"Yeah, no thanks to you!" You said bitterly, "you had me waiting outside the bathroom while you frolicked around in here, taking all the time in the world to change... For fucks sake."
You could hear her drunken giggling coming from behind the door. "Get real, I was only in here for a minute, you really couldn't hold it for that long?"
Your face flushed red as you processed her words. "No, I have a weak... Just.. Next time find an empty room or something to change in, okay?"
"Okay, okay... I'm sorry, alright? Do you need a change of pants?" Her apologetic tone of voice betrayed a shift towards a return to sobriety. Her slightly mother-like tone of voice rubbed you the wrong way, but at the same time, strangely excited you. At the very least she wanted to help you.
You assessed the damage bunched around your ankles. Your dark shorts had avoided the brunt of your accident, but your underwear was soaked through. Putting them back on would cause your shorts to get even more damp. "Uh, I just need a change of underwear. There was only a tiny leak, but I don't want to put a pair of wet underwear back on." You lied, downplaying the amount of urine that had thoroughly soaked through your underwear.
Katy paused thoughtfully outside the door. "Okay! One of the guys I babysit is around your size, I'll grab something for you."
You huffed as you waited in the bathroom while she fetched you some clean underwear. After what felt like an hour but was more like five minutes, Katie made her return, calling out to you. "Hey, you still in there?"
"It's not like I can just leave like this, did you find something??"
She was quick to respond triumphantly, "Of course I did, I'll leave the underwear for you here on the sink."
You heard a rustle as she left your change on the bathroom sink and gently closed the door behind her as to give you some modicum of privacy. You gingerly swung open the stall door, cautious to make sure she wasn't still there.
Your eyes caught sight of what she had left you, a pair of light blue underwear sitting neatly on the left side of the faucet. You washed your hands quickly, wanting to get changed so you wouldn't continue hogging the bathroom, but as you picked up the the underwear Katy had put out for you, you realised there was more to it than you had originally thought. The material was thick and rough, and the sides were a frilly, stretchy material. She had left you a pair of small, teenager's pullups.
"What the... Did you go and get me.. A diaper??" You angrily shot at her, knowing she was still behind the bathroom door, as her vague silhouette could still be seen through the glazed glass.
"It's not a diaper... it's just a pullup. There's no tapes or anything, and they apparantly feel just the same as regular underwear." She stated matter-of-factly.
"Stop messing around and get me a pair of proper underwear, I dont need this!" You indignantly spluttered to her, heat rising in your cheeks.
Katy's muffled response came through the door. "There IS no regular underwear, the guy I babysit that lives in this house still needs to wear pullups during the day, so he wasn't bought any underwear! Why do you think he still needs a babysitter at his age?? Just hurry up and put it on, no-one will notice, and hey, you won't have to worry about having any more little leaks in your pants like before..."
You were lost for words, but tired of arguing. At least she had done you the courtesy of trying to help. You thought what the hell and quickly pulled them on, the soft material gliding up your legs and snapping down around your manhood; enveloping all of you a little too easily. It was almost like the pullups were made for you.
Next you hastily slid your shorts up and over, washed your soiled underwear in the sink and threw them into your pocket.
You caught a glimpse in the mirror of your new underwear poking out of your shorts, so you made a note to pull your shorts up even higher. you meekly made your way out of the bathroom, seeing Katy waiting impatiently for you outside, arms crossed in front of her chest. "Well? Did you put it on?" She asked with a slight slur.
"Yes!! Now shut up about it." You hissed at her through your teeth, nervously glancing around you both to make sure nobody was within earshot. It was bad enough that she was aware of your diaper, but to have even more people find out wouldn't bear even thinking about.
You both rejoined the party outside, although the numbers had dwindled considerably in the time you had spent in the bathroom.
Katy broke from you, and made a splash as she jumped into the pool, and cheers rose here and there at the spectacle. You slowly sank into an empty chair, the padding of your pullups spreading softly underneath your legs. It was like sitting on a soft, down pillow. You hated to admit it, but it was actually quite comfortable. You reached over to pull another beer from the cooler, and trying to push your compromised position from your mind, rejoined the conversation.
* * * * *
Another hour passed, and everybody but you, Katy and three others had taken their leave. The music was turned way down, a gentle, bass-heavy pulse continued steadily underneath your conversation. Empty bottles and lids were scattered thoughtlessly across the lawn, the verandah light glinting off the discarded glass.
Katy sat across from you, a towel loosely wrapped around her small shoulders. You met eyes with her, and a small smile spread across her lips as she glanced down to your lap. You unconsciously moved her hands down to cover your shorts, blushing quickly at her knowing gaze. You stood, excusing yourself to go to the bathroom one more time before going home yourself. You felt Katy's eyes follow you as you walked towards the house, and heard her exclaim, "Alright, that's about time. I've gotta get up early for school tomorrow. Get outta here, guys."
The other men stood with a sigh, it was obvious that they had stuck around until the party's close with the hope of staying the night with the dark-haired bombshell. You supposed that nobodies night was going according to plan. You had made it in front of the bathroom door once again when you felt a light tap on your shoulder. You spun around, startled, to see Katy's smiling face looking up at you.
"Katy..." you started, doing your best to hold eye contact with her, distracting as her apparel was. "Aren't you forgetting something?" She teased, stepping closer to you. Your breath caught in your throat as the soft scent of chlorine from her body met your nose. "I was just going to use the bathroom, then head on home... Thanks a bunch for the invite..."
She shook her head at your words and stepped closer still. "I don't think you need to use the bathroom any more..." she giggled, pointing to your shorts. You looked down to the front of your light pants, not seeing anything. She brought her hand to the front of your shorts and gently pushed, and you gasped as you felt something warm and wet squish against your front. You had pissed your diaper without even realising it. Maybe it was the beer, or maybe it was the false sense of comfort wearing the pullups had given you, but it was unmistakable. At the very least, the front of your pullups were completely soaked, and you had a feeling the bottom would be the same too.
"I... Uh... How... Did you know??" Your mind completely blank, having no idea what else to say.
Katy put her hands on her hips again, and scoffed. "I told you before that I work here as a baby-sitter! And I happen to have a very good idea of when a diaper... I mean pullups... are full. It didn't take a genius to see how much your shorts slowly expanded over the last hour, I'm actually surprised nobody else noticed. Why didn't you just go and use the bathroom?"
Your words died in your throat, there was no way you were going to tell her that you weren't aware you had been wetting your pants for the better part of an hour.
She sighed, pushing you towards the bathroom. "Take a shower and clean yourself up, I'll get you some pyjamas."
"That's okay Katy, I'll just get my stuff together and head home." You said meekly, the embarrassment of your wet pair of pullups making you want to disappear as fast as you could.
"I'm not letting you go home in your condition. You're fine to stay the night. I'll get you some clothes and I'll use the upstairs shower." She shrugged, acting nonchalantly towards this whole situation. You guess she was used to this kind of stuff after all.
You gave in and went inside the large bathroom, stripping off and sliding your soaking pullups down your legs, leaving a slick trail all the way down the both of them. You washed yourself thoroughly in the shower, able to find a few moments of lucidity to think through your situation. Having a wear a pullup for an hour or two and getting to stay over at Katy's place for the night in exchange? People would kill for such a deal, and so you decided to make the most of your situation.
As you stepped out from the shower, steam rising off your skin, you saw a neat pile of clothes arranged, once again, for you on the sink. Another pair of pullups topped off the small pile, and you sighed as you quickly slid them up onto you once again, keeping Katy happy. Next was the shirt, a blue, childish print on it that matched the padding between your legs. And another pair of underwear, the material felt smooth and slightly stretchy to the touch, like spandex, and it snapped tightly onto you, pulling your diaper closer to your skin. As you looked down at the print of animals covering the front of your new, tight underwear, a frown forming on your face, the door behind you slid open to reveal Katy in a pair of soft, pink, pyjamas. She cooed as she saw you standing in your childish clothing, exclaiming, "So cute!!"
You looked back to the pile of clothes of the counter, but saw there was nothing left to put on. "Can I have a pair of pants to wear to bed..?" You queried her, as she made her way towards you.
"Don't be silly, you're wearing them." She responded, adjusting the waistband of your pullups so they hugged your body more comfortably. "All you need to wear is that diaper cover, and you're good to go."
A diaper cover? What was she playing at, that was why the underwear you pulled over the top of your pullups was so strange, it was designed to be worn with a diaper to hold it in place for somebody that wet the bed. And you had, for some reason or other, been chosen by Katy to be that bedwetting person.
"No way Katy, I'm not wearing this stuff to bed, are you serious? You made me wear that pullup earlier, and..."
"And you wet yourself." Katy interrupted your train of thought with her sharp reaction. "You wet your pants earlier, and you used the pullup that I gave you to wear, I didn't ask you wet your pullups, did I? Now you're going to try and tell me that you don't need a diaper to wear to bed?"
You stuttered, your pride deflating at her words. It was true. If you were her, you'd expect the person who had lost control twice in one night to lose control again.
"Now stop complaining about having to wear something just in a case tonight. I could always make you wear one of the tape-up diapers instead?" She raised an eyebrow at you as she stepped back, challenging you to respond to her.
You shook your head quickly. Just this apparel was more than humiliating for you. You couldn't even bear to think about her laying you down on a changing table and taping you into a baby diaper.
She nodded at herself, preening at her decisive victory over you. "That's what I thought, now come on, let's get you ready for bed."
She took your hand and led you upstairs, and your pullups crinkled softly with every step. Was this some kind of sick roleplay?? Why was Katy doing this to you?
But even more importantly, why were you LETTING her do it to you? She was treating you like a little kid, like one of the kids she was used to babysitting. Maybe once she got drunk, she couldn't turn off her "babysitter mode." But regardless of why she was doing it, you were slowly realising that you liked it. And you had no idea why.
You both entered a bedroom, it must have been the diapered teenager's room. Packages of diapers were stacked neatly into shelves on the right side of the room, and a large, adult-sized changing table lay adjacent. The left side however, was more like your typical teenager's room, with a computer, clothes strewn across the floor, and some posters tackily strewn over the walls.
Katy led you to the edge of the bed, pulling open the top sheet for you. "Katy..." You started, aware of your surroundings, "isn't it a bit weird for me to sleep in the kid you babysit's bed? I mean, maybe we should share your bed..." you said suggestively, your heartbeat quickening. Katy thought for a few moments before shaking her head.
"I would let you... but this is the only bed in the house that has a plastic-backed mattress... What if you leak?"
You looked at her incredulously. As soon as her accusation reached your ears, you were taken aback.
"Leak? Katy, I don't piss the bed! You're the one who put me in all of this. You don't know if I would wet the bed or not!!"
"Exactly, I don't know." She said back to you in a bemused manner. "But judging from your performance tonight, I'd say that waking up a little bit wet wouldn't be too uncommon for you, would it?
You heart sank as her words turned over inside of your head. You could feel your romantic chances with her slipping away as easily as you slipped into your pullups just moments earlier. But not if you did something about it.
It was her turn to gasp as you put a hand onto her waist, firmly signalling your intent. "Let me stay in your bed tonight." You asked again, pulling her slowly towards you. You felt her relent, and the two of you shared a kiss, right there on the edge on the bed. You hand slid down her waist, as her hand came to rest in your lap, brushing against your diaper cover. As if being brought back to sense by the feel of your babyish clothing, she immediately pulled back from you, much to your chagrin.
She licked her lips, blinking quickly in front of you, still obviously stunned by your audden boldness."I'll tell you what... you keep those pullups dry tonight, and I'll let you do more than just sleep in my bed tomorrow night."
And with that, she flicked off the light, closing the door behind her. Your member hurt, it was pressing painfully into the padding between your legs, unable to rise. You shook your head, your mind still swirling with the thought of your kiss, and lay down on the stiff mattress with an audible crinkle, your pullup warm between your legs, and tight around your waist.
How the hell had you gotten yourself into this mess?
* * * * *
Thanks for reading until the end! Let me know what you think, and if you'd like a part 2 😉 Stay padded ✌️
Susans Guardianship
Susan’s once proud fifty-year-old frame now a crumpled heap of shame, Susan sobbed uncontrollably in the corner of her daughter's living room, her dress pants and panties disgracefully bunched around her ankles as she clutched her searing, bright pink bottom. Her face, a tear-streaked mask of smeared makeup and snot, was a testament to the brutal over-the-knee spanking she had just endured, her eyes swollen and red from the torrent of tears. From above, Rachel's voice cut through the air, sharp and unyielding, "Ok Susie, your timeout is over! Are you ready to start being a good girl for mommy"?, a question that ignited a last flicker of defiance in Susan. "No god damn it! I’m not a fucking baby and you’re not my mother Rachel! I’m yours! I don’t care what the court says I’m not doing this"! she shrieked, wiping away tears only for Rachel’s swift hand to descend once more, reigniting the burning torment. Rachel’s response was chillingly firm, each word punctuated by another stinging smack, "Oh yes you are little Susie! I’m your legal guardian and you will do as mommy says! You are a baby now because you were a bad girl, embezzling thousands from that poor woman and until the court says otherwise that’s how you will stay and if I hear any more of that dirty mouth it’s getting washed out with soap! Do you understand me"!, as her relentless blows painted her mother’s bottom a deep, humiliating crimson. Susan's wails escalated, "Yes Rachel I’ll behave! Just please stop"!, she begged, her voice raw with pain and defeat, eliciting a sly, triumphant grin from her daughter, who wasn't finished with her torment; "Susie Marie! It’s mommy now and try that again and this time in babytalk"!, Rachel demanded, delivering another firm pop, shattering the last vestiges of Susan’s adult identity. Reduced to a helpless child, Susan choked out the humiliating surrender, "Yeth mommy me bees gwoods gwirls"!, as her daughter turned her around, the victory in Rachel’s eyes as absolute as Susan’s debasement.
“Good girl Susie! Now let’s get you in the tub for bathtime and settled before your special medicine takes effect!” Rachel’s saccharine announcement cut through the air, sending a fresh wave of humiliating terror through Susan, whose throat constricted in a silent, desperate gasp at the mere thought of being bathed by her own daughter. Her eyes, wide with a burgeoning dread, darted past Rachel to the monstrous pink and white mesh playpen, overflowing with ludicrously oversized baby toys, dominating the living room, and the enormous, safari-themed Graco bouncer seat, complete with its mocking animal activity bar, tucked by the front door. Susan’s lower lip began to quiver uncontrollably as Rachel, with an unsettlingly firm, almost possessive grip, took her hand, tugging her along like a disoriented toddler towards the kitchen, forcing Susan to waddle awkwardly, her bunched panties still around her ankles, a constant, chafing reminder of her utter helplessness. Her gaze, already brimming with unshed tears of indignity, widened further in a fresh surge of profound mortification at the sight of the specially procured, oversized pink and grey Graco highchair, perfectly fitted for her adult frame, waiting at the end of the kitchen table—a grotesque throne of her own degradation. The meticulous preparation for her forced regression was complete, leaving Susan a trembling, powerless prisoner in a world designed to strip away every last vestige of her dignity.
Susan's horrified disbelief solidified into a cold dread as Rachel mercilessly dragged her into the bathroom, where an oversized pink baby bathseat sat like a grotesque throne in the middle of the tub, a stark symbol of the degradation awaiting her. "What’s the matter baby don’t you like your bath seat?" Rachel cooed with a chilling sweetness, filling the tub with water and baby wash, her words twisting the knife of Susan's shame as she began unbuttoning her mother’s blouse, revealing the cruel intent behind her earlier warning: "After your guilty verdict last week and knowing the judges past tendencies for sentencing mommy got right to work with Cheerful Changes and I’m glad I did after your sentencing today! Nothing like being prepared! Am I right babygirl!" Susan's whimpers turned to desperate pleas, "No no no this cant be real! Don’t fucking do this please Rachel!" but her daughter's grip was unyielding, her eyes alight with a terrifying resolve as she pulled off Susan's blouse and unclasped her size 28aa bra before removing it entirely, leaving her chest exposed and vulnerable. "Susie Marie! What did mommy say about big girl words? You have no one to blame but yourself! Now this is happening whether you like it or not so I suggest you get that programmed in your little brain little miss!" Rachel commanded, her voice cutting through Susan's sobs like ice as she finished stripping her mother of her socks, pants, and panties, tossing them aside with dismissive contempt. Stripped of her autonomy, dignity, and even her clothing, Susan was utterly at her daughter's mercy, a trembling, naked testament to her new, degrading existence.
With a chilling smile, Rachel embarked on a meticulous campaign to strip her fifty-year-old mother, Susan, of every last vestige of dignity, transforming her into a helpless infant. The initial indignity began as Susan, mortified, tried desperately to cover her exposed form, only to be met with Rachel’s mocking laughter and the condescending declaration, “Oh stop Susie, you don’t have anything mommy hasn’t seen before,” as her grip pulled Susan’s hands away, forcing complete vulnerability. The first physical assault on Susan’s adult identity came with the blunt command, “Now first thing first! That jewelry has to go! Jewelry is for big girls not babies!” Rachel’s fingers, devoid of tenderness, swiftly unclasped earrings, tugged bracelets, and slipped rings from Susan’s trembling fingers, leaving her lower lip to quiver uncontrollably at the loss of her cherished adornments. Next, a brutal scrub with baby wipes eradicated every trace of Susan’s carefully applied makeup, leaving her face raw and exposed, a public canvas of her utter mortification, before Rachel grabbed her hands and began clipping Susan’s elegant French-manicured nails, reducing them to painful stubs, a violation so profound that it tore a wrenching wail from the fifty-year-old’s throat. Aggressively stood, Susan was then subjected to the bewildering application of thick white cream across her most intimate areas, Rachel’s predatory smile widening as she waited. “Almost done babygirl!” Rachel chirped, before mercilessly wiping away not just the cream, but every single hair from Susan’s nether regions with baby wipes. “Smooth as a baby, Susie! Just as you should be!” Rachel singsonged, her saccharine tone a cruel counterpoint to the horror in Susan’s eyes as she was presented with the hair-covered wipes, prompting a guttural cry of "bloody murder" and a furious, impotent stomp of her foot, perfectly mirroring a tantrum-throwing toddler, much to Rachel’s perverse delight. The final, crushing blow to Susan’s autonomy came as Rachel announced, “Now let’s get baby all squeaky clean!” effortlessly hoisting her bawling mother and forcing her, legs first, into the degrading confines of a baby bath seat, securing her in position, a tableau of absolute despair and horror. Stripped bare, shorn, and utterly helpless, Susan was no longer a woman, but a humiliated plaything, utterly at the mercy of her daughter's twisted vision of infancy.
Submerged in the warm, shallow water of her bath, Susan endured a meticulously orchestrated degradation, her fifty years of independence dissolving under the infantilizing gaze of her own daughter. Rachel's voice, saccharine and patronizing, cut through the humid air: "Now let’s see what we have here for baby to play with while mommy washes you!” as she gleefully emptied a bin of brightly colored bath toys – rubber duckies, a plastic watering can, and sea animal squirters – into the tub, each item a fresh barb of humiliation for Susan, who sat rigidly, her face burning with chagrin. When the indignity of the baby shampoo lathering her hair finally broke her composure, Susan lashed out, splashing water and screaming that she was not a baby, only to be met with Rachel's cold, firm resolve. “That’s it Susie, mommy has had enough,” Rachel declared, retrieving an absurdly oversized, pink and white pacifier from the vanity and firmly popping the rubber teat into her mother's protesting mouth. “Now suck, Baby Susie! And you better keep it in until mommy says otherwise, unless you want another spanking!" Susan, trapped and utterly defeated, could only comply, her cheeks flushing crimson as she begrudgingly sucked the pacifier, her eyes fixed on the plastic watering can as Rachel, with a frog-themed mitt, gently washed her small chest, arms, and back with sweet-smelling baby soap. As Susan mechanically played, desperate to distract herself from the profound shame, a few tell-tale bubbles floated up around her bottom, causing Rachel to grin with predatory satisfaction, knowing that the final, most humiliating act of control wasn’t long away.
Rachel, meticulously cleaned her, stripping away any last vestiges of dignity. Moving adeptly beneath the bathwater, Rachel first attended to her mother’s legs before intimately cleansing her hairless vagina inside and out, eliciting Susan’s profound shock and horror. Following this, the fifty-year-old was unceremoniously lifted from her bath seat and bent over, whimpering under her pacifier as Rachel thoroughly cleaned her bottom before returning her to the seat. “Ok babygirl, a few more minutes of playtime and then we need to dry you off!” Rachel cooed from her perch on the toilet lid, observing her mother before pulling out her iPhone. "Smile for mommy," Rachel cheerfully instructed, snapping a picture as Susan looked up, then another, which finally broke Susan's composure, causing her to cry out, “No pwease mommy!” The older woman pleaded babyishly, her voice muffled by the oversized pacifier. "Oh, hush babykins! Just sending a little update for our friends and family. They will be ecstatic to see photos of baby’s 1st bath," Rachel explained dismissively, uploading and sending the compromising images without a second thought for her mother's palpable distress.
Emerging from her bath, Susan was plunged into a bewildering new reality as her daughter, Rachel began drying her off with a pink towel and styling her short brown hair into an undeniably childish look. With an iron grip, Rachel then carried her naked mother on her hip down the hall, Susan's eyes widening in horror as they stopped before a door adorned with a grinning Winnie the Pooh mural and the sparkling pink declaration, 'Baby Susie’s Nursery.' Inside, the guest bedroom had vanished, replaced by a meticulously crafted infant's domain: light pink walls bordered with pacifiers and baby bottles, a massive crib adorned with a Winnie the Pooh crib sheet and mobile, and a bureau overflowing with onesies, frilly diaper covers, and Jammie’s, all under the watchful glow of a Winnie the Pooh lamp and baby monitor. Susan’s protests were futile as she was gently but firmly laid onto an oversized changing table, a strap quickly buckled across her belly, her gaze fixated on a large white pail emblazoned with 'Baby Susie’s Stinky Diapees.' Overwhelmed and utterly bewildered, the older woman could only wail under her pacifier as Rachel coated her in gentle baby lotion, then reached for a fresh oversized Huggies disposable diaper, prompting renewed flailing and screams that momentarily dissolved into giggles under her daughter’s playful tickles. This meticulously constructed nursery, with its overwhelming innocence and infantilizing rituals, cemented Susan's new, inescapable identity, leaving her helpless in a world designed solely for 'Baby Susie'.
No pwease mommy, no diapee! Me bihg gihrl!" Susan whimpered, her protest muffled by the pacifier as Rachel, unyielding, effortlessly lifted her mother's bottom and slid a bulky diaper beneath her. "Susie, this isn't up for debate," Rachel stated, her voice firm and devoid of compromise. "You are a baby now, and you need to be back in diapers like any other baby. It won't be long before the medicine takes effect, and all your potty training skills are gone for good. Now, behave while I change you." As Rachel meticulously coated her mother's delicate skin with thick diaper rash cream, then dusted it with sweet-smelling baby powder, Susan lay utterly humiliated, her eyes fixed on the ceiling, the steady rhythm of her pacifier a stark counterpoint to her internal turmoil. Once fastened, the diaper comically splayed her legs, revealing the smiling faces of Winnie the Pooh and his friends, a sight that only deepened Susan's sulk. "Okay, sweetie, let's get you dressed! You have a big afternoon!" Rachel cooed, slipping ruffled ankle socks and shiny black patent Mary Jane shoes onto Susan's feet. A big afternoon? And baby shoes? Susan's confused thoughts raced as she was sat up, only for Rachel to triumphantly display a pink baby dress. "I think a certain little girl is definitely going to look adorable!" Before Susan could react, the silky fabric enveloped her, its shortness leaving her diaper prominently on display. "Mes wooks lik bwaby!" Susan wailed, futilely tugging at the hem. "Yes, you certainly do, princess! But mommy's not done yet!" Rachel teased, completing the transformation with a large pink bow headband, cementing Susan's new, infant-like appearance.
“Let’s show you the new you babygirl!" Rachel announced, easily picking up her mother and carrying her from the nursery to the hallway mirror, where Susan stared back at the unfamiliar big baby with a pout. "Well mommy thinks you’re adorable sweetie now let’s go grab your diaper bag and get a move on!" Rachel declared, swiftly carrying her into the kitchen where an oversized quilted tote diaper bag sat ready. Susan's thoughts raced, "Rachel couldn’t be serious could she? There is no way she would take me out like this!" as Rachel calmly placed several oversized formula bottles into the fully stocked bag before zipping it up. "Ok time to go byebyes sweet girl!" Rachel announced, slinging the diaper bag over her shoulder. "No pwease mommy no lik dis! Yoos cwants!" the fifty-year-old babbled frantically under her pacifier, uncontrollably soaking her bulky diaper and dissolving into tears. "Susie Marie! Stop that crying right now. If you think you’re going to hide in this house you’re in for a rude awakening. Now you be a good girl and behave! Everyone will see you in your new state sooner or later. Now I think a certain little girl has a much needed apology to make today so let’s get a move on!" Rachel sternly explained, patting her mother’s heavily diapered bottom, noticing it was warm and damp with a slight smile before opening the door and carrying her whimpering mother outside towards her SUV.
As the rear passenger door swung open, Susan’s eyes widened at the sight of a gigantic Graco car seat, a pit forming in her stomach as she was gently but firmly placed inside and buckled in, much to her horror, her enormous diaper bag settling beside her. "And who do we have here Rachel?" Rachel’s neighbor Taylor called out from next door, making her way over. "Oh hi Taylor! You remember my mom don’t you? Well it’s Baby Susie now after her sentence!" Rachel explained as Taylor smirked. "Ah yes I heard all about it! Serves her right! Although she sure is a cutie!" Taylor added, tickling the former woman’s belly and eliciting a small giggle from Susan before she turned beet red. "We’re heading out but why don’t you come over later and help me get Susie ready for new early bedtime? Around 5? If that works," Rachel asked. "Absolutely see you then! Bye bye sweetie! Now you be a good girl for mommy and Aunty will see you this afternoon!" Taylor cooed as Rachel shut her mother’s door and, after a final wave to Susan like she was a baby, backed out of the driveway. After a twenty-minute drive toward a once-familiar part of town, Susan began a frantic temper tantrum, flailing her arms and legs as the terrifying realization of their destination dawned upon her: Happy Bottoms Daycare, adorned with a grand opening sign and cheerful pink and blue balloons. "Ok babygirl! We’re here. Now I expect you to behave in there today! And apologize to Mrs. White! Do you understand mommy?" Rachel sternly demanded. "Yeth mommy," Susan begrudgingly babbled, her daughter then unbuckling and picking her up, placing her on her hip with the diaper bag slung over her shoulder. With a final, nervous suckle of her pacifier, Susan was carried into the brightly lit daycare, her new reality firmly cemented by the cheerful greeting of a smiling Mrs. White.
"Well hello there, Rachel! Welcome to Happy Bottoms! And would you look at Susie, what an improvement! She is adorable," Mrs. White beamed, as Susan, still resting her head shyly on Rachel’s shoulder, turned away. Rachel, firm but gentle, patted her mother’s diapered bottom. "Susie Marie, I think you have something to say to Mrs. White, don’t you, babygirl?" Susan mumbled begrudgingly around her pacifier, "Me sowy, Mithis Whites," earning a knowing smile from Mrs. White. "It’s quite alright, baby," Mrs. White replied, "Your mommy made it right with a generous donation from your bank account, and I think we can get past your naughty behavior once you learn your new place." Susan’s eyes widened, the implication of Rachel’s actions sinking in. "Now Rachel, we’re all set for tomorrow. Drop-off is at 7 AM, and we’ll just need a box of diapers, a change of clothes, and some bottles of formula," Mrs. White continued. "Dwoppoff?" Susan babbled, her pacifier nearly falling out, causing both Rachel and Mrs. White to grin. "Yes, baby, you start daycare tomorrow with Mrs. White at Happy Bottoms," Rachel confirmed, and Susan’s protests immediately escalated into a wail. "Nono no, me no baby! Me adult!" Susan cried, just as a foul, pungent odor began to fill the room, causing both adults to wrinkle their noses. "I think somebody pooped!" Mrs. White announced, taking it upon herself to check, lifting the back of Susan’s dress to reveal the waistband of her diaper, peeking inside where a large load confirmed her suspicions. "Pew yew! Stinky girl!" she teased, causing Susan’s lower lip to quiver. "Oh, Mrs. White, I’m so sorry! Do you mind if I change her here?" Rachel asked, mortified. "Oh, Rachel, no apologies needed, I’ll change Susie and please, call me Barbara! This is what babies do! Follow me, we have a changing table equipped for big babies in the other room," Barbara explained, motioning for Rachel to follow. As Susan was led away, her wails of protest were underscored by the profound dread of her first diaper change in 48 years, especially at the hands of the woman she had once wronged.
The university exit was buzzing with students leaving afternoon lectures, the late spring sun casting long shadows across the stone arches and paved courtyard. You had just stepped out with a group of your guy friends, laughing about some stupid meme, when you froze in place.
There she was, Mommy,standing tall and furious right in the middle of the walkway, blocking your path like an avenging goddess.
Her blonde hair framed a face twisted in pure maternal rage. Those sharp blue eyes locked onto you immediately. In one hand she gripped a massive, brightly colored box labeled in huge pink bubbly letters: "Doux Rêves 250, Couches ,Nuit XL" - 250 thick overnight diapers, size extra large. The packaging was embarrassingly infantile: smiling moons, giggling clouds, cartoon teddy bears, baby bottles, and little stars everywhere.
In her other hand, slung over her shoulder, was an enormous babyish diaper bag covered in pastel teddy bears and pastel patterns, clearly bulging with even more supplies. Your friends stopped behind you, their chatter dying instantly as they took in the scene.
Mommy’s voice cut through the air like a whip, loud enough for everyone nearby to hear: "There you are, you pathetic little piss-soaked mess! Get over here right now!"
Your face burned instantly. You tried to shrink back, but she marched forward, her white sneakers thudding authoritatively. The thick XL diaper box swung heavily in her grip. "M-Mommy... please... not here..." you stammered, voice cracking. Your friends were already staring, eyes wide, one of them already starting to smirk.
She grabbed your arm with surprising strength, yanking you closer so the entire group could see. "Not here? Oh, you don’t get to decide where or when anymore, baby boy. I found the evidence this morning. Your bedsheets, soaked with piss and crusty with your nasty little sperm stains. Your underwear drawer? A disgusting collection of yellowed piss marks and brown poo streaks. And the toilet? Left absolutely filthy after your pathetic attempts to hide your accidents. You’re not a university student. You’re not even a big boy. You’re a helpless, incontinent little baby who can’t control his bladder, bowels, or his horny little dick."
You felt your knees weaken. Heads were turning from all directions. A few more students slowed down, phones subtly coming out. "P-Please Mommy, I’m begging you... I’ll do better! I’ll wash everything myself! Just... not diapers... not in front of everyone..." Your voice was trembling, desperate. You clasped your hands together in front of you like a prayer. "Mercy, please! I’m so sorry for the stains! I’ll stop masturbating in bed, I swear! No more accidents! Please don’t put me back in diapers!"
Mommy laughed coldly, loud and mocking, holding up the giant diaper box for everyone to see. "Beg all you want, little one. Your begging is as useless as your leaky cock. Look at this packaging ,250 thick, ultra-absorbent overnight diapers. But guess what? These aren’t just for night time anymore. From this second forward, you’re in diapers day and night. Full 24/7 baby treatment. No more big boy underwear. No more pretending to be an adult. These thick, crinkly, babyish diapers will be your only underwear for the foreseeable future. And trust me, with how much you leak piss and cum and the occasional messy accident, you’re going to need every single one of these 250."
She shook the box, making the infantile illustrations dance. Your friends were now openly grinning, one of them whispering "holy shit" while another pulled out his phone to record.
You dropped to your knees right there on the pavement in front of the university exit, tears of humiliation stinging your eyes. "Mommy no! Please! I’m begging you relentlessly ...stop! Don’t do this! Everyone is watching! I’ll never cum again, I’ll never have another accident! Mercy, Mommy, please have mercy on me! I’m your big boy, not a baby!"
"Big boy? HA!" Mommy sneered, towering over you. She reached down and roughly patted the front of your jeans, right over your crotch, making the faint old urine stain visible to everyone. "This pathetic little thing hasn’t earned the right to be called a big boy in months. The only thing you’re going to hump from now on is your thick, soggy diapers. The only thing you’re ever going to 'impregnate' again is the absorbent padding between your legs. Every desperate little thrust, every pathetic dry-hump against that crinkly plastic , all of it trapped inside your baby diapers like the helpless infant you are."
She didn’t even wait for you to stand. Right there, with dozens of students now openly staring and murmuring, she began the public declaration of your new status: "Listen up, everyone! This is my son. He’s been hiding his little accidents and jerking off like a naughty toddler. From today, he’s back in diapers full time. Thick ones. And he’s getting the complete baby treatment: pacifiers, bottles, onesies, crib, high chair, the works. No more dignity. No more privacy. If he wets or messes, everyone will know because his diapers will be on full display when I change him."
Your begging became frantic, tears rolling down your flushed cheeks. "Please Mommy stop! I’m begging you with everything I have... no diapers! No baby treatment! Not day and night! I’ll do anything! Please, I’m so embarrassed... everyone can hear you! Mercy! Stop! I can’t take the humiliation!" It was in vain.
Mommy simply smiled with cold satisfaction, grabbed you by the ear, and started marching you toward the car, the giant diaper box and baby bag swinging for all to see. Your friends were laughing now, one shouting "Enjoy your diapers, dude!" while others snapped pictures. The first days of your new baby treatment were pure hell ... exquisite, relentless humiliation.
That very evening, back home, Mommy wasted no time. She stripped you completely naked in the living room, making you stand there with your hands on your head while she inspected every stain on your discarded underwear and sheets, holding them up to your face. "Look at this disgusting mess. Piss. Cum. And yes... actual shit stains. You’re a baby. Babies wear diapers."
She laid you down on a changing mat right on the coffee table, legs spread wide like an infant. The first thick "Doux Rêves" diaper was unfolded with a loud, unmistakable CRINKLE. It was enormous...plush, tall in the back, with extra padding in the crotch and leak guards. The babyish prints on the landing zone (teddy bears and moons) faced you mockingly as she powdered your genitals liberally.
"Awww, look at that tiny little baby dick twitching. So excited to be locked away in its new home. From now on, the only orgasms you get will be pathetic, ruined ones inside your soaked diaper while you hump the padding like a desperate little animal. No more touching. No more big boy cumming. Just diaper humping for my incontinent baby." You begged the entire time she taped you up... two thick tapes on each side, the diaper so bulky it forced your legs apart in a waddle. "Mommy please! I’m begging you, take it off! It’s so thick... so babyish! I can’t go out like this! Mercy! I’ll be good!"
She just cooed mockingly and snapped the tapes tight. "Too late, baby. Feel how it hugs your pathetic little accidents? That’s your new underwear. Forever, until Mommy decides you’ve earned big boy pants again ... which, judging by how much you leak, will be never." The first night she put you in a full baby onesie with snap crotch, locked the crib rails up, and gave you a bottle of warm milk while you sobbed. The diaper swelled massively by morning from your inevitable nighttime wetting, and yes, another shameful load of cum you couldn’t stop from spurting into the padding while you unconsciously humped against the thick material.
Daytime was even worse. She dressed you in loose shorts that did nothing to hide the obvious bulk and crinkle of the XL diaper. Every step in public ... to the store, to run errands ... was accompanied by loud crinkling and her constant verbal reminders:
"Waddle faster, baby. Everyone can hear your diaper. Did you just wet yourself again? Good boy! I mean good baby. That’s what the padding is for. Keep filling it. Mommy loves seeing her little diaper boy soaked and humiliated."
She changed you openly when needed ...sometimes in the car with the door open, sometimes forcing you to beg for changes while friends or even strangers could potentially see. The verbal humiliation never stopped: "Say it: 'I’m Mommy’s pathetic diaper humping baby who can’t control his piss, shit, or cum.' Louder. Good boy. Now hump your diaper for Mommy while I watch."
You begged every single day, multiple times an hour at first: "Please Mommy, I’m begging you again and again ...take the diapers off! I hate the crinkle, I hate how thick they are, I hate everyone knowing! Mercy! Stop the baby treatment! I’ll never stain anything again!"
But Mommy only smiled, patted your swollen, soggy crotch, and replied: "Begging is cute, but useless. Your sheets are clean now because all your messes go straight into these beautiful thick diapers. You will stay in them day and night. You will drink from bottles, eat baby food if I say so, and the only thing that pathetic little cock will ever fuck again is the soft, absorbent padding that’s currently turning yellow and heavy between your legs. Welcome to your new life, my permanently babified, diaper-dependent little boy."
And deep down, as the days turned into a blur of crinkling, waddling, public exposure, and endless verbal degradation, you realized your relentless begging would remain forever in vain.
Mommy had decided. You were back in diapers ...for good.
ABDL / AGEPLAY / MDLB
(all characters are above 18) The bright yellow nursery smelled of baby powder and fresh laundry, its walls adorned with cheerful ABC blocks, cartoon kittens, and smiling teddy bears. Sunlight streamed through the lace-curtained window, casting a soft, innocent glow over the scene that made the humiliation all the more cruel.
Jake stood trembling inside the sturdy white wooden crib, his hands gripping the top rail so tightly his knuckles were white. His light blue button-down shirt was rumpled, and his brown pants bore a large, dark, unmistakable wet stain spreading across the crotch and down one leg. Tears streamed down his flushed cheeks as he sobbed openly, his body shaking with shame and desperation.
It had all started that afternoon. He and his cousin Emily had been alone in a room. One thing led to another (curiosity, hormones, stupidity) and he had touched her, tried to go further, tried to fuck her. Emily had screamed, pushed him away, and run straight to her mother, Aunt Margaret.
Now, here he was. Aunt Margaret had dragged him by the ear into the nursery, declared it “time-out in the baby crib for naughty little boys who can’t keep their hands to themselves,” and locked the side rail up with a firm click. She had ordered him to take a forced afternoon nap like the infant he was acting like. When he had begged and pleaded for the bathroom, banging on the crib bars and calling out in vain, no one came. His bladder had given out. He had wet himself helplessly right there in the crib, soaking his pants like a toddler who couldn’t hold it.
The door opened. Aunt Margaret stepped in, still wearing her pretty blue floral dress and crisp white ruffled apron, a string of pearls around her neck. In one arm she carried a thick stack of fluffy white terry cloth diapers. In her other hand dangled several oversized diaper pins with big, colorful babyish safety caps shaped like little ducks and teddy bears. A smug, mocking smile played on her lips as she looked at the crying boy in the crib.
“Tsk tsk tsk,” she clucked, shaking her head slowly. “Look at the ‘big boy’ who wet himself. Ugh? And you wanted to put your little dickie in my daughter? Ah ah ah…” She let out a light, condescending laugh that made Jake’s stomach twist.
Jake’s face burned with mortification. “Aunt Margaret, please… I’m sorry! It was an accident! I didn’t mean...I’m not a baby! Let me out, I’ll clean up, I swear!”
She ignored his pleas and approached the crib, her heels clicking on the hardwood floor. “You know the rules in this house, young man. You wet the bed...or the crib...so I put you back in diapers. That’s how it works for little boys who can’t control themselves.”
She laughed again, a bright, amused sound, as she set the stack of diapers down on the changing table nearby. “And only babies wear diapers! So from now on, it’s diapers day and night… and thick ones for sure! Lots of peepee and poopoos! You heard me!”
Jake’s eyes widened in horror. “No! Please, Aunt Margaret, don’t! I'I can’t wear diapers! This is so humiliating...please, I’ll do anything!”
But she only smiled wider. “And googoos too, sweetie. The only thing your little dick will see all summer long are thick, crinkly diapers to wet and hump. And yes, I will make you hump them right in front of Emily during tummy time. Count on it, boy!” She laughed again, clearly enjoying his growing panic.
Jake tried to climb out, fighting and struggling against the crib rails, but Aunt Margaret was faster and stronger than she looked. She reached in, hauled him over the rail with surprising ease, and delivered a series of hard, stinging spanks across his wet bottom that left him howling and kicking. “Bad baby! No fighting Mommy Margaret!”
After the spanking left him sobbing and subdued, she carried him to the diaper changing table and laid him down on his back like an infant. Jake pleaded and begged the entire time, tears flowing freely: “Please… please don’t do this… I’m begging you… I’ll never touch her again… don’t put me in diapers… I’m not a baby!”
Aunt Margaret paid no attention to his cries. She efficiently stripped off his soaked pants and underwear, leaving him completely exposed. Then came the full baby treatment. She slathered his bottom and private area with thick, greasy vaseline....paying special attention to his anus, pushing inside with a clinical finger while he squirmed and whimpered in utter shame. “This will keep you nice and slippery for all those messy diapers, baby.” Next came generous amounts of baby oil, followed by thick layers of diaper rash cream, and finally a heavy dusting of sweet-smelling baby powder that made him cough and blush even harder.
Only then did she begin the diapering. As he cried, she lifted his legs high, slid not one, but three thick terry cloth diapers underneath him, followed by an extra booster pad for maximum absorbency. She pulled them up snugly between his legs, making the bulk enormous and impossible to ignore. With practiced movements she fastened the whole massive bundle tightly with the large diaper pins, their colorful babyish safety caps clicking into place. Over everything she snapped on a pair of noisy, translucent plastic pants that crinkled loudly with every movement.
“There we go,” she cooed mockingly. “Such a thick, puffy baby bottom now. Perfect for a naughty little boy who tried to act grown-up.”
She wasn’t finished. She tied a large, oversized terry cloth bib around his neck, the kind with babyish embroidery, and popped a big pacifier with a long blue ribbon into his mouth, tying the ribbon behind his head so he couldn’t easily spit it out. Jake’s muffled sobs and desperate pleas continued around the pacifier: “Pwease… pwease no… I can’t… thith ith a nightmawe…”
Aunt Margaret smiled down at him lovingly, as if he really were her infant. “By the end of the summer, thanks to lots of vaseline, plenty of bottles, and constant diapering, you’ll have a tiny baby dick again. You’ll be wetting and messing your diapers just like a real baby...completely unable to hold it. I promise you that. I'll call my sister regularly to complain in have no choice as you wet and mess your diapers on your own. Ah ah! But i'll be true when she comes to take you back!"
She lifted him off the changing table and placed him back into the crib, raising the side rail with a decisive click. “Now you’ll spend the rest of the afternoon napping like a good baby. And this is just the beginning of your summer, little one. Morning naps, afternoon naps, and very long baby nights in your crib. You’ll be eating nothing but baby food from now on. Every single diaper change will be long, slow, and completely humiliating...right in front of whoever happens to be watching. Emily will also change you and spankin you! And yes, I promise I’ll expose you. Emily and her friends will see exactly what a diapered little baby you’ve become.”
Jake broke down completely, crying and begging through the pacifier, kicking his thickly padded legs uselessly against the mattress. “Nooo… pwease… I’m begging you… don’t tell anyone… don’t make me do thith all summer… it’th too humiliating… I can’t live like thith!”
Aunt Margaret paused at the nursery door, turning back with a sweet yet wicked smile. “Before I leave, I’ll tell you what’s next: I’m going straight to the sewing room with Emily. We’re going to make you the most humiliating baby clothes imaginable: frilly romper suits, short little baby dresses with matching diaper covers, bonnets, booties… everything a proper baby needs. You’ll be wearing them every single day.”
She blew him a mocking kiss as his desperate, tearful pleas and sobs filled the nursery. “Sweet dreams, baby Jake. This is going to be the longest, most infantile summer of your life. An absolute nightmare… and it’s only just beginning.”
The door clicked shut, leaving Jake alone in the crib, thickly diapered, bibbed, and pacified, his future filled with endless forced naps, baby food, public diaper changes, and relentless humiliation. The heavy, crinkling bulk between his legs was a constant, mortifying reminder that he was no longer a teenager. He was Aunt Margaret’s baby now...for the entire summer.
Ageplay / abdl / mdlb
The Quickest Surrender
“Hold it right there.” Luna said as he tried to slip past.
He froze mid-step.
She already had that smug, knowing smirk plastered across her face. “Is there anything you want to tell me?” she asked,
He gave a quick, nervous shake of his head.
“Mmm-hmm… You sure?” Luna pursed her lips together. “Because someone’s got a little waddle going on… and those cheeks are turning niicce and pink...." She gave him a slow up-and-down look. "Someone’s been busy in his pamper again, hasn’t he?”
“I’m not wet!” he blurted. “I swear, it’s dry! I haven’t gone since the last change when—”
“Uh-huh. Sure, baby.” Her smirk deepened. “I didn’t even mention being wet yet, and you jumped right to it, didn't you? Drop those pants right now so Nurse Luna can check. I think we both know what we’re going to find...”
His hands trembled as he pushed his pants down to his thighs. The heavy, sagging diaper put on full display.
“Oh my! Look how plump and swollen you are!!” Luna cooed. “I don’t even need to touch it to know it’s soaked. That little sag right there? That’s what we in the business call a heavy one. I’ve changed hundreds of these, sweetie. I can spot a thoroughly used pamper from across the room. So go ahead…keep telling me how dry you are. I’ve got all afternoon...”
He shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot, face burning with embarrassment. “I… I really didn’t mean to…” he mumbled weakly, hands twitching like he wanted to pull his pants back up.
Luna let out a soft, amused laugh and shook her head.
“Aww, look at you still trying so hard to be a big boy for me,” she said, voice dripping with mock sympathy. “But big boys don’t walk around with warm, swollen diapers between their legs, do they? They use the potty like they’re supposed to.”
She paused, letting the words hang in the air as she stared at the obvious heavy sag between his legs.
“So tell me, sweetie…you were free to use the potty whenever you needed to. No one was stopping you.” Her head tilted, eyes sparkling with amusement. “So why exactly are you standing here in a soaking wet pamper instead?”
He opened his mouth, face burning. “I… I couldn’t make it to the bathroom in time…”
Luna raised an eyebrow, her smirk turning sharp and skeptical.
“Oh really? Couldn’t make it?” She tilted her head. “It’s not like the bathroom is far. It’s not like your mittens were on. The door wasn’t locked. Nothing was stopping you. You know that you're allowed to use the potty anytime you want. You don’t have to use your diapers.”
She didn't believe him for a second, her voice dripped with condescending sweetness. "So go on, keep telling me your little story."
He tried again, sounding desperate. “I-I really had to go…”
“Did you now?” Luna cooed, lifting the half-empty bottle and giving it a little shake. “I changed you into a fresh diaper just two hours ago. You barely finished half your ba-ba. And if you really needed to go that bad, you could have just used your words and told me. We could have walked you to the potty, pulled your pampers down, and let you pee-pee like any normal, potty-trained man would. I might have even held it for you.”
She leaned in slightly, eyes sparkling with mock curiosity.
“So what seems to be the problem here… hmm?”
He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He stammered helplessly, completely lost for words, face burning with humiliation.
Luna waited a beat, clearly savoring his silence, then continued smoothly.
“The way I see it, two things could have happened here…” she held up a finger, "One: you didn’t even realize you needed to go. You just let it happen without thinking. That means the unpotty training your wife hired me for is already rewiring that brain of yours.”
She raised another finger, “Or two… you knew you had to go, but instead of using the potty you were freely allowed to use, you deliberately chose to piss all over yourself, to wet your diaper…on purpose."
She crossed her arms, eyes gleaming expectantly.
"So which one is it, baby? Was it an accident? An 'uh oh's'? Or did you decide a diaper was where you preferred to go pee-pee?”
He stammered, eyes darting away. “I… I don’t know… it wasn’t like that…”
Luna’s smirk grew wider, clearly enjoying his discomfort.
“It’s only been two weeks since your wife hired me,” she said calmly, considering. “Full unpotty-training can't have taken hold yet in such a short window, even with a professional like me. Which usually means one thing…”
She let the words linger, watching his reaction.
“I’ve seen this pattern before with quite a few clients. They pout, they whine, they throw little tantrums and swear they hate their diapers.”
Luna gave a small, knowing pause.
“Some of them like the attention. Some of them like to be spanked. And some of them?” Her voice dropped into a soft, conspiratorial tone. “Some of them get so excited the second I start changing their diapers that they pop a little baybee boner right there on the table. I have to be extra careful when I wipe them so they don’t make a goo-goo mess all over the place from just the slightest touch.”
She looked him up and down slowly, her smirk deepening.
“And you… you’re starting to act just like them.”
“What?? That’s ridiculous!” he protested. “You think I actually like wearing these stupid things?!”
“That’s exactly what I think,” Luna replied calmly.
He scoffed. “You’re crazy.”
“Am I?” She raised an eyebrow. “So if I check inside your diaper right now… am I going to find anything a little… stiff?”
He backed up half a step, hands moving to cover himself.
“Nu-uh. No running.” Luna set the bottle and fresh diaper down. “You stay right here. Hands behind your back so I can get a proper look.”
He stood quivering as she stepped in close and groped the front of the soaked diaper firmly.
“Hmm… definitely wet,” Luna murmured, giving it a slow, deliberate squeeze. Then her voice suddenly jumped into exaggerated, mocking delight. “And… ohhh my goodness! What’s this?" she gasped, "Is that a little stiffy I feel twitching away in there?”
He let out a mortified whimper, hips twitching involuntarily under her hand.
She tugged the waistband forward and peered inside, grinning wide.
“Oh my! It sure is!!” she exclaimed, eyes lighting up with glee.
He tried to twist away, face burning crimson, but she held the diaper open with one hand and kept him in place.
“Awww! Look at you!” Luna cooed, voice thick with fake sympathy. “Soaked like a widdle tottler and your tiny tinky winky is rock hard in its pissy pamper! Throbbing and leaking like crazy…”
She gave the front another playful squeeze, watching him squirm.
“Well, well, well,” she purred. “Just like I thought. I’ve seen this exact pathetic little routine dozens of times: grown men swearing they hate their diapers right up until their tiny widdle wee-wee starts leaking in one. Pathetic… and sooo predictable.”
Luna gave the front of his soaked and tented diaper one last firm, possessive squeeze, watching him tremble. She pulled her hand back slowly, clearly savoring his humiliation, then tilted her head with that signature smug smirk.
“So tell me the truth right now, loud and clear...” she continued, voice sweet but commanding. “Are you going to keep pretending you want to be a big boy who uses the potty...or..." She leaned in closer, eyes locked on his, her face only inches away, "...are you going to admit you prefer pampers?”
He squirmed desperately, shifting his weight from foot to foot, the heavy soaked diaper crinkling loudly between his legs. His hands clenched into fists behind his back as sweat beaded on his forehead. He tried to look away, but she gently caught his chin with two fingers and turned his face back to hers.
“Say it,” she whispered, almost tenderly. “Say ‘I don’t wanna use the potty anymore, Nurse Luna. I love going in my diapers. I only want to use my pampers!’”
The silence stretched painfully long.
Luna simply waited, patient and utterly confident, still holding his chin so he couldn’t escape her gaze. The only sounds in the room were his ragged breathing and the occasional wet crinkle of his sagging pamper. His face burned crimson. His erection throbbed visibly against the front of the soaked diaper. Every second that passed made the humiliation worse. He knew she could see exactly how conflicted and excited he was.
“Go on, baby… We both know it’s true. Say it for Nurse Luna.”
He swallowed hard, lips trembling. His eyes darted around the room, desperate for any escape, but there was none. The weight of her stare, the warmth of his own mess pressing against him, and the undeniable stiffness between his legs finally broke him.
“I… I don’t wanna use the potty anymore, Nurse Luna,” he whispered, voice cracking with shame. “I love going in my diapers. I only want to use my d-d-diapers...”
Luna’s smile widened, slow and deeply satisfied.
“There we gooo!!” she said softly, almost tenderly. “That’s exactly what I thought. I’ve seen this dozens of times, you know. Grown men swearing they hate their diapers, fighting it so hard… right up until they finally admit they love using them. You’re not becoming incontinent, sweetie… you’re choosing your diapers because you like them. Perfectly capable of holding it… you just don’t want to anymore! Do you?!?"
She gave his throbbing front one last teasing pat. “And because you were so honest with me, I’m going to give you a little reward!" She said, smirking. "Part of unpotty-training is getting you properly sensitized to your diapers, teaching that little brain to associate them with pleasure. So Nurse Luna is going to be extra nice today…”
She let the words hang for a moment, watching him squirm with anticipation and lingering shame.
“So here’s how this is going to work, sweetie,” she said. “You’re gonna get down on all fours like you do for tummy time… but this time you’re going to grind that hard little thing against your warm, pissy pamper until you make a biiiigg sticky mess in it!”
He flushed deep red but didn’t argue. In fact, he was surprisingly intrigued. As he started to obey and drop to his knees, her hand pressed firmly against his chest, stopping him.
“Nu-uh uh!" She clicked her tongue, "Not until I hear you say it again, baby. Not until you admit to me exactly how much you wuv your widdle diapurrs!! Say it, baby...use your words.”
His face burned crimson. “I… I wuv my diapurrs, Nurse Luna…”
“Louder.”
“I wuv my widdle diapurrs!!!” he repeated, voice shaking.
“Good boy." She grinned, "Now get down on the floor.”
He dropped to all fours immediately and began humping frantically, grinding his rock-hard erection against the heavy, soaked, squelching padding with wild, shameless abandon. His hips bucked desperately, the loud crinkling and wet squishing sounds echoing through the living room as he rutted like a desperate animal in heat. Soft, needy whimpers and moans spilled from his mouth as he humped harder and faster, completely lost in the filthy pleasure of his own mess.
“Keep saying it, honey,” Luna cooed. “Tell me while you hump. Tell me you never want to use the potty again.”
“I love my diapers…” he gasped between frantic thrusts. “I never want to use the potty again… I only want my pampers… I love my diapers…!”
His movements grew even more frantic, hips slamming harder against the warm, heavy mess. “I love my diapers… I only want my pampers… I never want to use the potty again…!”
Any last reservations had completely vanished. He was moaning openly now, repeating the humiliating phrases over and over like a broken record while he desperately fucked his own soaked diaper.
"I never want to use the potty again! Just pampers! Just pampurrs! Just...just..."
Less than twenty seconds later his whole body locked up. His hips stuttered violently as he came. Hard. Flooding the already-soaked pamper with thick ropes of cum, groaning loudly into the carpet. Luna watched with a delighted smirk as his pathetic little spasms continued, milking out every last drop into his padding.
He collapsed forward, gasping and trembling. The heavily soaked diaper crinkled and squelched as he sluggishly rolled onto his back. His eyes fluttered open, still glassy and half-lidded, only to widen in sudden horror as he spotted Luna’s phone aimed straight at him...recording everything.
“Oh my goodness! Done already??” Luna exclaimed in exaggerated shock, pointing the camera at her own mock-surprised face. “In twenty seconds? Aww! Someone must really love their pampers, huh?”
Post-nut clarity slammed into him like a truck. The shame hit hard. He cursed himself silently for letting his horniness take over, for saying those pathetic things, for humping his own pissy diaper like a desperate addict while she watched. And now it was all on video. Proof. Irrefutable evidence for his wife.
He tried to cover himself and reach for the phone, but she smacked his hands away.
“Nu-uh! No hiding now.” She leaned over him and drew up the waistband so she could peek inside his diaper. Eyes going exaggeratedly wide.
“Wow… such a big, nasty sticky mess in there!!” she laughed softly. “Look at all that cum mixed with your pee-pee. You really creamed your pamper like a proper little diaper boy. So fast, too! How pathetic.”
She slipped two fingers into the warm, sticky interior, slowly stirring through the thick mixture of his cum and piss. When she pulled them back out they were coated in glossy, stringy goo. “Look at this…” she murmured, holding her glistening fingers up in front of his face, spreading them so he could see the stringy ropes between them. “Open up, baby. Taste what you just did.
When he hesitated, she simply pressed the sticky fingertips against his lips until he obediently opened and began to lick. The salty, warm taste of his own mess filled his mouth as she watched with smug satisfaction.
She gave the soggy, cum-filled front a patronizing pat, pressing the warm, sticky mess firmly against his sensitive skin.
“Looks like we have all the evidence we need,” Luna said with deep satisfaction. She finally lowered the phone, giving him a long, amused look as he lay there spent and humiliated. “Wait until your wife sees this. She’ll see exactly how effective I am at unpotty training you. Look at you… repeating how much you love your diapers and how you never want the potty again, while you humped your messy pamper like a desperate little bitch!”
Luna smiled down at him sweetly, clearly savoring the shame washing over his face. She casually tossed the fresh diaper onto the coffee table.
“You won’t be needing this one,” she said lightly. “You’re going to stay right there in that warm, sticky one you made for yourself.”
She pulled him up to his feet and guided him over to the blue couch. Luna sat down and firmly draped him across her lap, cradling his head in the crook of her arm. She picked up the half-empty bottle and pressed the nipple to his lips.
He squirmed and turned his head away with a weak, embarrassed whimper.
“Nu-uh,” Luna cooed. “Don’t fuss, baby. I think we're way past that by now. Do you need a little reminder of the state you’re in? Hmm?! Should we look inside your diaper again? Do you need to see what you did?”
She reached down and lifted the waistband of his heavily soiled diaper, holding it open so he could see the glistening, stringy cave of cum coating the entire inside.
He shook his head frantically, eyes wide with shame.
“Yeah… I think we do need another reminder..." Luna said with mock sympathy. She slipped her fingers back into the warm, sticky interior, scooped up a thick, glossy glob of his cum, and slowly smeared it all over the rubber nipple of the bottle until it was shiny and dripping.
She pressed the goo-coated nipple firmly against his lips.
“Open up, baby. Taste what you made while you drink your ba-ba.”
He whimpered, but didn't protest anymore, just hesitantly took the cum-crusted bottle into his mouth.
“Good boy,” she praised softly, rocking him gently as he began to suck. Her free hand slowly patted between his legs, pressing the warm, sticky mess against him with every rhythmic pat.
“Feel that?” she whispered tenderly. “That warm, sticky goo-goo you just made? That’s all yours, honey. I didn’t make you do that. You didn’t have to say those things. You didn’t have to hump your pamper like a desperate little cum-pumper…”
He let out a soft, mortified whimper around the bottle nipple, his cheeks burning hotter as he suckled. The pathetic little sound only made Luna’s smile widen.
She continued rocking him, her voice calm, soothing, and utterly condescending.
“You know...most men I get assigned to take months to become fully diaper-dependent” she cooed. “Daily hypnosis sessions, constant punishments, positive reinforcement when they use their diapers, negative reinforcement when they even think about the potty… the whole program. Some of them fight me for half a year before they finally break.”
She leaned down and planted a gentle kiss on the top of his head, her hand still patting the soggy, cum-filled front of his diaper.
“But you? You broke completely in just two weeks.” Her voice dripped with mock amazement. “So eager to give up the potty! Forever. How adorable… and how pathetic.”
He whimpered again beneath the bottle, a high, embarrassed sound that vibrated around the nipple as he nursed. Luna chuckled softly.
“So while you’re suckling your ba ba like a good widdle baybee, I want you to really let this sink in…” She rocked him a little slower, pressing the sticky mess more firmly against his skin with each pat. “I didn’t unpotty train you, sweetie… you did it to yourself. You chose your pampers over a potty. You’re going to be pee-peeing and poo-pooing in nothing else from now on. And now you get to sit in everything you chose like the good little diaper boy you wanted to be.”
Luna smiled sweetly down at him, watching his eyes glisten with shame.
“That’s right… Let allll the choices you made soak in… until your wife gets home… and you can show and tell her yourself.”
Seen And Not Smelled
“So we just finished up dinner at the restaurant," Tessa explained, "and we get back in my car—because of course I had to drive— and what does he do?? He pulls out a fucking strap-on and asks me if I’ll peg him!”
*gasp!*
“Noooo!”
"Stahhp!!
“He had it with him the whole time?!”
“Yup. Full harness, dildo, veins and everything. Just chilling in his bag ready to go, apparently.”
“And what did you say?”
“Oh, I was PISSED!”
“I know, right? I would be too! I mean, this was y’all’s first date and y’all had been talking for—what? Two days?? And he asks you to PEG him?!”
“Oh, I wasn’t offended by that.” Tessa said, waving it off and taking a sip of her wine. “I was offended that he brought one that was so goddamn small.”
“WHAAAT?!?!” The girls shrieked in surprise.
“So what did you do??”
Tessa crooked an eyebrow like it was the most obvious answer in the world. “I grabbed mine out of the trunk. Three sizes bigger. Then I drove around to the back of the restaurant, bent him over that same trunk, and fucked his ass right then and there.”
The girls howled with laughter. Hands smacking their thighs as they rolled around on the cushions of the couch.
“He swore up and down that he couldn’t take it. That it was ‘too big’…” Tessa continued, smiling victoriously. “but I made it fit. Made him squeal like a pig, too. Fucked him so hard he jizzed all over the concrete like a little bitch without me even touching his little dick!”
Priya almost snorted wine out of her nose.
Lauren wheezed. “And then what?”
Tessa shrugged, taking another sip. “I drove off. Left him by the dumpster with his pants down and his asshole gaped open. That’s what he gets for making me split the tab!”
The room lost it. Maeve wiping tears of laughter from her eyes before her mascara ran, Lauren doubled over clutching her stomach, Sara fanning herself like she might faint from secondhand glee.
“God DAMN, you’re ruthless! I love it.”
Priya tried to speak through giggles. “Okay, well my story isn’t that good, but I did have one guy last week that—”
She stopped cold. Nose wrinkled.
“Uhh… do you guys smell that?”
Lauren sniffed, face twisting. “Oh! God…yeah. That’s poop.”
Tessa’s eyes flicked down. “Uh… Maeve?”
They all collectively turned their attention from her, to the middle of the floor.
Noah had been there the whole time, kneeling quietly among his Lego bricks, thick cartoon-printed diaper crinkling faintly with every tiny shift.
Maeve sighed, small and resigned. She set her glass down.
“Noah,” she said sweetly, “honey…” she leaned forward and dropped her volume, as if she was about to have a discreet conversation even though all eyes and ears of the girls around could very much hear. “Did you make a stinky, sweetie?” She asked, “Did you have a little…accident?”
Noah didn’t answer. Couldn’t. His face flushed deeper than crimson, eyes glued to the half-finished Lego structure. A tiny, involuntary whimper escaped.
The girls exchanged glances.
Maeve let out a long exhale, then stood up slowly, smoothing her skirt. She walked over, and crouched behind him. Without ceremony she lifted the hem of his t-shirt, exposing the waistband of the diaper. One manicured finger hooked inside the back elastic and tugged it open just enough to peer in.
A pause. Then a low, tired groan.
“Yup,” she muttered, letting the elastic snap back. “Full load. Great timing, babe.”
She stayed crouched there for a second, rubbing her temple.
“Noah...didn't I tell you that tonight you were supposed to be seen and not heard? Did you not thinking that included smelled as well?” She exhaled hard through her nose. “Did you really have to do this right now? In front of my friends?”
Noah’s lower lip trembled, tears welling up in his eyes. "I'm s-sorry, Mommy. I had to go but I didn't want to interwupt and I didn't know what to do so I...I..." A soft, choked sob escaped...then another. His whole body shook with quiet, humiliated crying.
Maeve’s face softened immediately. All exasperation and frustration vanishing instantly.
“Oh, baby…” she whispered, wrapping her arms around him from behind, pulling him back against her chest in a gentle hug.
“I’m s-s-sorry, Mommy,” he choked out between sobs. “I’m so sorry. The girls are mad at me now. They’re mad and they hate me. I’m gwoss. I’m so gross and I ruined everything! I ruined girls’ night. I didn’t mean to!! I tried to hold it but I couldn’t and now everyone’s mad and the night is ruined because of m-m-me…”
He was having a full-on meltdown. So used to constantly being in Little Space that he forgot what it was like to hold back and save a little dignity. He cried and blubbered and let it all out.
Maeve immediately wrapped her arms around him and rocked him slowly, one hand cradling the nape of his neck, the other patting his heavy, sagging diaper in steady, comforting rhythms. “Shhh!! It’s okay, baby. Mommy’s sorry. I didn’t mean to be so hard on you. You couldn’t help it, could you? I know, sweetie. I know...”
She pressed a kiss to the top of his head, rocking him until the sobs eased into sniffles, until his breathing slowed and he leaned into her like he always did when he felt small and safe.
But the room was dead silent. Several long, awkward, heavy beats passed. No laughter, no quick quips, just the faint crinkle of Noah’s diaper as he curled tighter, shoulders shaking with quiet, mortified sobs.
Then Tessa—bold, unflappable Tessa—leaned forward, voice dropping into that warm, deliberate tone she used when she was about to take charge of an awkward moment.
“Hey…" she said softly, leaning forward on the couch, locking eyes with Noah, "...I heard someone has a poopy diaper,” a small smirk creeping up the side of her lip.
Noah's sobbing stopped with a hiccup, panicked.
“And it smells pretty yucky, huh?" Tessa continued, "Like...really gross. Big, stinky, full-on messy load.” She paused, letting the words settle without flinching. “But you know what?”
Noah braced for a brutal remark, something to scold and humiliate him, but it never came. Instead, Tessa smiled.
"It's okay." she said simply.
Noah’s sobs hitched. He lifted his head just enough to peek at her, eyes red-rimmed and incredulous, like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Slowly, hesitantly, he leaned his head off Maeve’s chest, still sniffling, still clinging to her shirt with one fist.
Priya, catching on, smiled and leaned forward. "Aww! Is somewon embarwessed of that big lumpy load in their diapee? Hmm?" She didn’t wait for an answer, just tilted her head, letting a small, knowing smile creep in. "Did you really think we don't know what you do in those things?" she scoffed lightly, teasing but warm "Please! We know all about your pamper-pooping habits. Your mommy's told us all the stories!"
“Yeah…” Lauren joined in, softer, almost conspiratorial. “Did you think a little stink would scare us away? Come on… Like we haven’t heard about the blowouts in the park… or that time at the coffee shop when you two had to duck into the family restroom for an emergency change. We’ve been briefed, baby.”
Noah’s breathing slowed. The tears still slipped down his cheeks, but the frantic edge had dulled. His wide eyes moved from face to face, searching, waiting for the judgment that never came.
Tessa leaned forward reaching out her hand to beckon him. “Come here, little one." she said "Let me check you.”
He glanced at Maeve for reassurance, who smiled and nodded. She gave him an encouraging squeeze before letting him crawl over until he was close enough for Tessa's reach.
"Well go on..." she said, spinning her finger, "turn around so I can see your diaper."
Noah flushed a fresh fuchsia color on his cheeks, hanging his head a bit in shyness as he crinkled around in a circle, exposing his bottom.
There was only a hint of hesitation as Tessa reached out, her palm resting lightly against the thick, sagging seat of Noah's diaper. Lifting it and testing the weight of the heavy load before letting it plop back down.
"Mmm-hmm," Tessa murmured, giving the padded bottom a gentle pat, "That's definitely full!" She leaned in a little bit, giving a sniff, then recoiled. "Oof! Yea! And stinky too!!"
Noah whimpered, flipping back around in shy embarrassment. But Tessa still smiled. “See?” she said. “Still here. Not running. Not grossed out. Nothing scary about that. Just means the diaper did its job. And you did yours.”
Priya mirrored her, extending a finger to poke the side of the bulge, testing the give, like she was checking ripeness on fruit. A soft crinkle-squish. She raised an eyebrow at Maeve.
“Your mommy thinks we’ve never smelled a dirty diaper before. As if we don’t know exactly what kind of boyfriend she’s got.”
Lauren leaned in last, giving the padded bottom a single, affectionate squeeze, enough to make Noah squeak and bury his face deeper, but the squeeze lingered warm and steady.
“We expected you to dookie in your diaper eventually,” she murmured. “It’s what diapers are for, silly! That's why you wear them. No one’s mad. Promise.”
Noah’s lower lip quivered once more, but this time the tears that fell were slower, quieter. He sniffled hard, wiped his nose on the back of his wrist, and—almost against his will—a tiny, wobbly smile flickered at the corner of his mouth.
Maeve exhaled a long, shaky breath of relief. She rubbed slow circles on his back and looked around the circle at her friends, eyes shining. “Thank you,” she whispered. “All of you.”
Tessa just shrugged one shoulder, still smiling down at Noah. “Told you. We’re not going anywhere.”
Maeve swallowed, nodded, thanked them again for their understanding, then stood up straight. “I’m going to take him to the bedroom and change him real fast. I’ll be right—”
"What?"
"No way!" Priya waved her off. "Don’t hide the fun! He’s right here. Change him on the floor. We want the full show!”
Lauren nodded eagerly. “Yeah, come on. Live entertainment. We’ve seen the meltdown, might as well get the rest.”
Tessa leaned closer. “Please? It’s hilarious. And...kind of hot. In a weird way.”
“Okay, well… I dunno about ‘hot,’" Priya said, "but it definitely is… cute. Intimate.” She gave a small, reluctant smile.
The other girls murmured agreement, “Totally cute.”
Maeve exhaled. “Fine. But if anyone makes him cry, you’re all out.”
The girls squealed and clapped their hands in excited victory.
Maeve paused, hand still resting on Noah’s back. She looked down at hi, brushing a thumb across his damp cheek. “Baby?” she asked, voice low and private despite the audience. “You okay if Mommy changes you right here? Let the girls see how I take care of you when you have a big accident?”
Noah hesitated, eyes flicking toward the circle of faces. None of them mocking, all of them waiting with quiet patience. He swallowed hard, then gave the smallest nod. His voice came out tiny, cracked but steadying. “…Okay, Mommy.”
Maeve pressed a kiss to his head. “Alright then.”
She reached for the changing pad she kept folded nearby (always prepared), shook it out across the center of the rug, and smoothed it flat. The faint plastic crinkle seemed louder in the hushed room.
“Come here, sweetie. On your back for Mommy.”
Noah moved slowly, still shaky from the crying, still flushed, but he crawled the short distance and lay down without protest. Knees came up instinctively, arms resting stiff at his sides like he was bracing himself. The diaper sagged heavily between his thighs, the faint earthy smell still lingering in the air.
Maeve knelt beside him, putting a pacifier in his mouth to soothe him. Then ripped the tapes open one at a time with soft, sharp pops. The front panel fell away slowly, revealing the thick, messy contents. The smell bloomed stronger for a moment, no one flinched, but their noses did wrinkle.
Tessa leaned in just a fraction, voice warm and low. “Look at that… you really packed it in there, huh? Such a big, messy boy!”
Priya’s eyes widened, not in disgust, but in something closer to quiet awe. “Wow. That’s… a lot. You didn’t hold anything back, did you, sweetie?”
Lauren rested her chin in her hand, smiling softly. “It’s okay that it’s yucky. Diapers are made for yucky. You did exactly what you were supposed to!”
Maeve reached for the pack of wipes, pulling one free with a soft rustle. She started at the top. Slow, careful strokes across his lower belly, then lower still, folding the wipe and using fresh sections each time. The cool cloth made Noah twitch and suck in a small breath.
Tessa noticed. “Awww, cold wipey? Brrrrrr!!! Poor baby! Hold still!”
Maeve worked methodically, lifting his legs gently by the ankles to get underneath, wiping between cheeks, folding, wiping again. Every motion calm, practiced, loving. She didn’t rush, she let the moment breathe.
Priya watched, voice soft. “Your mommy’s so good at this. Look how gentle she is! You’re in good hands. We’re all right here!”
Maeve’s fingers moved to the creases of his thighs, cleaning the last traces with tender precision. As the wipe glided over the sensitive skin just beside his groin, Noah winced.
“Uh oh! Looks like someone’s getting hard!”
Priya leaned in a fraction, grinning. “Awww! Are you getting a boner??”
“Someone’s winkie likes the attention!” Tessa giggled, "Even when it's messy time!"
Noah’s face ignited scarlet from forehead to collarbones. He slapped both hands over his eyes with a mortified squeak, legs instinctively trying to close even as Maeve gently held them parted to finish the wipe-down. A tiny, embarrassed whimper slipped out from behind his palms.
Maeve didn’t miss a beat. She simply gave his tummy a soft, reassuring pat. “Shhh, it’s okay, baby,” she murmured, voice low and soothing. “Nothing to be shy about. You can't help it. Just a little excited from all the love and attention. That's all.”
She finished the last gentle pass with the wipe, then set it in the dirty diaper below, balled it up, put it aside, and reached for the baby powder. A generous puff of sweet-scented cloud drifted down, she rubbed it in with slow, circling palms over his bottom, between his legs, across his pelvis, careful and thorough, never lingering too long on the now-prominent erection but never shying away from it either.
Priya inhaled deeply. “Mmm… there we go! From super stinky to super fresh. Magic.”
Lauren smiled. “See? All better now. You’re our clean, sweet boy again.”
Maeve slid the fresh diaper under his hips, same cartoon pattern, thick and crinkly. She pulled the front up snug between his legs, taped one side, then the other, smoothing the waistband with her palms. Two final pats on the padded front, firm, reassuring.
“All done,” she said softly, helping him sit up.
The girls clapped like they just saw the most amazing Broadway show.
"Bravo!"
"Amazing!"
"Impressive!"
"Why don't you thank your Mommy for changing such a stinky diaper?"
Noah’s voice was clearer now, though still small and shy. “Thank you, Mommy.”
Maeve ruffled his hair. "You're welcome, sweetie." She said with a genuine smile, then glanced at the circle of women. “Now how about you apologize to the girls for pooping your pampers in front of them and interrupting girls’ night?” She followed it with a smirk and wink to let her know she wasn't too peeved.
Noah looked up at them, eyes still a little glassy, cheeks still pink, but he managed. “I’m sorry… for pooping my diaper and making it smell. And for… ruining the fun.”
Tessa shook her head immediately. “You didn’t ruin anything, sweetie. You made the night more interesting. We’re glad we got to be here for it.”
"No apologies needed,” Priya cooed.
Lauren grinned. “We think it’s cute.”
Maeve held up the balled-up soiled diaper.. “Can you be a big boy and go throw this away for Mommy, please?”
Noah nodded meekly, took it with careful fingers, and toddled off toward the kitchen, crinkling softly with each step, head a little higher despite the lingering flush on his cheeks.
The room exhaled collectively. Maeve sank back on her heels for a second, then climbed onto the couch beside Priya. She picked up her wine glass, took a long sip, and let out a quiet, grateful laugh.
Lauren spoke first, voice dreamy. “God… I want that."
Tessa snorted lightly. “Girl, you don’t even want real babies. What makes you think could handle a grown one?”
“Oh no, not that!” Lauren clarified quickly. “I don't know how you make it through more than one of those dirty diaper changes, Maeve. What I mean is… the way they look at each other. The bond they have. The connection. The trust. The intimacy. It’s...beautiful.”
Maeve sighed affectionately, a soft, genuine smile spreading. “It’s pretty great…”
Noah returned a moment later, empty-handed, cheeks still flushed but calmer. He resumed his spot on the rug without a word, picked up a Lego brick, and snapped it into place. The familiar click-click-click filled the quiet like a heartbeat.
Maeve ruffled his hair once more, then returned to the couch, picking up her wine glass.
Priya cleared her throat, grin returning. “Okay… so, back to my Tinder disaster. Where was I? Oh, right, the guy who thought that opening a door for me meant I owed him a blowjob…”
Laughter bubbled up, soft at first, then fuller. The room warmed again, the awkward spike smoothed over.
Girls’ night rolled on, Noah played with his blocks, and Maeve watched him with that quiet, loving look only she could give, knowing the night wasn’t ruined at all. It was even better now.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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Ok honey you can have 15 more minutes on your game but you must tell Mommy if you need to go wee wee. Remember Mommy wants to start potty training today
Then I have this fresh Super Kings diaper and baby powder for you. What’s the KY Jelly for? Never you mind. You don’t need to worry about that if you are a good boy
Honey you are shuffling about in your seat. Did you just go wee wee without telling Mommy first?
Oh I think you have - come here and let me do a proper diaper check
Oh no sweetheart. Mommy told you not to wet without asking her. You are so naughty.
Well you know what that means. Naughty boys get punished
So yes I have your clean super kings here but I have something else for you. Yes you know what it is don’t you? You know what to do….
That’s a good boy bend over for Mommy so she can slide inside you. Oh don’t worry I have used lots of these KY jelly so I will just slip in smoothly
Yes Mommy did choose the big one. It’s a punishment after all. It’s to remind you who is in charge
And then afterwards I will put you in this nice thick Super King diaper. Now remember your manners. What do we say? That’s right. Thank you Mommy.
Image credit mommyandbabyD (a wonderful abdl couple)
Me and who? Would love to see more diaper and strap content on my feed