30s male switch. Into abdl, humiliation, and more. I enjoy video games, reading, and watching TV/movies. My favorite genres are sci-fi and fantasy. Always interested in chatting or asks.
You're not allowed to finger or rub yourself. You're also not allowed to use a vibrator unless I'm controlling it. The only way you can get off by yourself is by grinding your pussy against something. It'll be fun watching you get super horny and grinding against things all over the house.
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I think it would be fun to send a little to school in pullups. I'd pack them a few extras pullups in their backpack just in case of accidents. At first I'd expect the extras to be left undisturbed but eventually I would see one missing here and there. I wouldn't say anything about it and would let it be other than always making sure there were a few extras for changes. I would wait until I started noticing one of the extras pullups disappearing every day. Then I would randomly replace all the extra pullups with diapers knowing that at some point at school you would have an accident in you pullup and instead of putting on a new pullup, you would be forced to put on a diaper. I would be smiling all day thinking about you at school in a diaper.
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I want full 24/7 control over you so that when you get mad or upset and say something I don't like I can just pull out your paci and put it in your mouth. "That's enough. Bad girls need to suck on their paci until they can learn to be good girls."
It sounds like so much fun making a girl wet herself in public. Planning and executing a well thought out plan where she has no choice but to stop wherever she is at and let go wetting herself. It doesn't matter whether it is a full on wetting or a small accident. Either way, she would have lost control and peed herself. The embarrassment of having an accident would be perfect and of course I would be right there for her. I would also use it as the perfect reason for her to always wear pullups when we go out together.
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The floor indicator blinks at you, a bead of sweat forming in your brow as the numbers minimize with each passing moment. But itās not moving fast enough for you.
4
The number now glares at you as the elevator stops to pick up people on the floor just two above your room. If you could just make it to the room itāll be okay. You bounce foot to foot, hoping itāll relieve the ever-building pressure in your tummy.
āAre you okay, baby?ā
Daddy asks, to which you curtly nod, too focused on trying not to fill your already very soggy diaper.
You and Daddy had planned this trip months ago; your second anniversary trip to the beach to celebrate two years of Daddy being your legal guardian. Of course, you were much better at potty training back then.
3ā¦.2
You whimper as your stomach growls, it seems to echo in the tiny waiting room as more and more people collect there, joining you and Daddy in the wait to go up from the beach. Your swimsuit does little to hide the waterlogged padding around your waist, causing you to get some lingering glances.Ā
But you donāt care, you need to go potty now.Ā
āNot here, not hereā
You think to yourself as more and more people crowd around the elevator doors, the numbers continue to shrink until inevitablyĀ
1
The elevator dings, metal doors sliding open as a flurry of people collide, some getting in while others get off, but not you.Ā
Itās too late.
Thereās nothing you can do as your legs stiffen, hands balling into fists as you feel your brows furrow and your nose scrunch ever so slightly, eyes glossing over as you stare off into space.
Your daddy watches you with a sympathetic expression, his own cheeks twinged with the slightest shade of pink; The last of the people waiting to board the elevator clamber on and hold the door open for the two of you.
āAre you going up?ā
The gentleman holding the door asks sweetly, him and many others watching you two expectantly.
Heās interrupted by a rather loud toot from your backside as your diaper begins to bulge out of the leg of your swimsuit.Ā
āUm, weāll catch the next one. We might be here for a minute.ā
Your daddy laughs awkwardly, scratching his neck, embarrassed by the little show you are putting on for all the other patrons of the hotel.Ā
The deafening silence is cut through by only the sounds of you grunting.
āOh, I see. I donāt miss those days, brother. Enjoy your tripā
The gentleman laughs, along with a few others behind him, a murmur of agreement floating out of the elevator and onto your red ears. Letting his hand fall away from the door so it can begin to slide closed.
āStay out of trouble, stinkerā
The stranger calls out before disappearing behind the door as the elevator makes its ascent.Ā
Your legs feel like jelly, and you can finally take a deep breath again as your body relaxes, you feel the bulk of your now soiled diaper, whimpering as you reach behind and feel the comical bulge in your swimmie. The nasty smell filling the air of the tiny room and assaulting your senses, daddy sighs.
āCmon baby. Thereās a station in the lobby, letās get you changed.ā
Lately, Iāve been completely enamored with the idea of my caregiver taking away my glasses privileges.
Little ones canāt be trusted with contactsātoo much picking and prodding at their eyesāso all Iām left with are my big, awkward glasses. The frames swallow my face whole, and my prescription is so strong it makes my eyes look comically huge. And sometimes, when Iām naughty, Daddy takes even those away, leaving me utterly dependent on him.
Mornings change immediately. Iām no longer waking Daddy early, begging for pancakes or a diaper change. Instead, I lie awake in my crib, anxious and squirming in a soggy diaper, unable to get out on my own. I canāt see where Iām going. I have to wait for him to come get me.
Potty training regresses almost overnight. Daddy finds himself changing far more dirty diapers throughout the day because Iām too nervous to use my training potty. I canāt judge the distance to the seat, canāt tell how close I am, and the memory of tinkling down my skirtāmore than onceāmakes me freeze up entirely.
Iām stuck in a near-constant state of whining, crying, and tantrums. I canāt find my toys, canāt tell where theyāve gone, and panic sets in as Iām convinced theyāre lost forever.
New bumps and bruises appear from misjudged steps and unseen obstacles, from getting too close to the bars of my crib without realizing it.
The anxiety is worst when Daddy isnāt right there. If I canāt make out his fuzzy shape, how do I know heās nearby? How do I know Iām safe? How do I get where I need to go? Daddy becomes my eyes, my legs, my everything.
He notices his back aching more than usual now. Iām constantly tugging at his pant leg, reaching up for him, begging for āuppiesā just so I can get around without panic of hurting myself.
Even out in public, the dependence follows. The humiliation of not being able to read a menu at a restaurant, my face burning as the waitress asks what I want. I sputter, stumble, then turn to Daddy so he can answer for meābecause he chose for me, because I need him to.
Itās raw. Itās humiliating. It strips away independence and presses directly on my anxious attachment. And thatās what makes it feel like the perfect punishment. š¤
The perfect gaming chair for her would include a vibrating dildo and vibrating butt plug attached to her chair. Every time she wants to sit down at her desk, she'll have to slowly slide down onto the dildo, fully inserting it into her as well as inserting the butt plug. It's only proper for her to be filled while playing her games. I'm sure she will enjoy herself as well.
To take it a step further I would integrate the software that connects and sends vibrations to her toys based on game events. As she's playing her games she'll be vibrated by what happens. She'll enjoy playing stardew and feeling the vibrations every time she's farming and chopping down trees. I'm sure I'd find her playing stardew and moaning as she's riding on her horse in a circle on the screen just to keep the vibrations constantly going. Or I'm sure she'll get a full experience playing mass effect and moaning in pleasure during the sex cut scene. The only issue is eventually I'd probably find her playing vrchat, moaning in pleasure, grinding against her chair as her character on screen is having sex.
Just found out about a software that connects a butt plug vibration with video games. Now all I want to do is setup a gaming chair for a good girl so that she can interact with her games properly.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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