Shy Baby

You were about to have your dirty drooping diapers changed in the ladies room at Disney World.

Your wife and her sisters were all laughing hysterically as you blushed red.

“Oh my god… What is that smell? It smells like a daycare changing room in here! Wait a second… Did your husband actually poop in his diaper? I can’t believe it, why didn’t you tell me what a big baby he is.”

I know, I know. They’re a little bigger than in the pictures. I’ve grown 4 sizes this year alone. Once I got them to milk, they never stopped growing LOL. I love them! But enough about me. Do you really wear diapers all the time?

Fantastic! AHH, I can tell you’re going to be such a good boy! And again, I know you already said it online. But you want to be fully controlled in a female led relationship? You want to be diapered and chastised 24/7? And you’re going to change your whole life schedule to be able to nurse from these at least twice a day?

No no, I don’t take my top off till you make a big stinky poopie in that pamper.

Did you just go poopies in your diaper right now? You did didn’t you!

You’re such a good boy. You’re finally giving up control and accepting your new life. You have no idea how wet you’re making Mommy’s pussy right now.

What’s that? Don’t worry if anyone else can smell it. I’m all that matters and I love that you pooped your diaper without me having to force you this time.

“What’s that baby?” Mommy asked in disbelief. “There’s no way you pissed your diaper again? Surely!” She laughed as she came over and felt the soggy diaper between your legs. 

“Oh my god, you are!” She giggled, sliding her finger underneath the waistband of your diaper and lightly tickling your sex as she checked you. “Well we’ll have to get you changed before my friends arrive for drinks.” She said as she busily rustled around in the drawer looking for a fresh diaper for you. 

“That is,” She grinned devilishly. “Unless you want them to see you get changed by me. Who knows, they might even help…”

“Oh stop acting all embarrassed! You should be thanking your aunt that she set up this diaper changing station in the back of her car for the roadtrip.”

“I don’t care that your little cousins are teasing you! I refuse to be in the car with you sitting in the back in a stinky diaper. Besides, they all wear diapers too so they will be back here soon enough!”

“Actually, I just finished up potty training the girls so the only baby in the car today is your little guy!”

Your mom often dropped you off at your aunt’s house when life overwhelmed her, leaving you there for days or even weeks occasionally. Your aunt, childless from a career that devoured her chance at a family, harbored a regret that poured into her desperate need to mother you. At first, her care was intense but simple—piling on blankets, reading bedtime stories, lingering to smooth your hair with a tenderness that felt both warm and heavy. You leaned into it, too shy to resist. Her maternal instincts, raw and unrestrained, inched forward, each step so subtle you accepted it like a frog in warming water, barely noticing the shift.

Her unfulfilled longing pushed the routine further. She began bathing you, running a warm cloth over your skin with meticulous care, claiming it was just practical. Then, knowing you didn’t wear diapers at home for your occasional bedwetting, she insisted on them for her beds, fastening it onto you with a quiet firmness. You blushed but were too shy to say no. Over time, she diapered you earlier each evening, the ritual starting right after dinner.

Later she even began then reassuring you it was okay to wet before bed since it was just more convenient. Eventually she even started hinting that poopy diapers were normal for bedwetters, her tone soft but deliberate. One night, after her hints, your curiosity got the best of you and you filled your diaper with poop. When she smelled it her chest instinctually pushed out and she quickly peeked down the back of the diaper like you were a little boy.

As she changed you, wiping you clean with steady hands, she slipped a pacifier into your mouth to “calm you down,” her eyes gleaming strangely. Soon, afterwards a baby bottle was introduced. Finally, she offered time at her breast, but strangely you noticed she only fed you that way if you’d filled your diaper with poop, her gaze intense with maternal fulfillment.

“Awww, I know exactly what boys like you need. A little love and attention from stepmommy, isn’t that right darling? Of course, we can’t be too sweet. Mustn’t spoil you.”

That's How They Get You...

Oh, you dumb baby! Are you one yet, a baby I mean? You certainly are dumb to be pitching a tent like that in your diapers. Perhaps you're just 'having fun' or 'experimenting' and trying something new. Was this your idea? Oh, then you're in even more trouble than I thought.

Sure, sure I bet it feels great. That's how they get you. It's all fun and games until you find yourself strapped to 'your' changing table, ankles held above your head with a fresh diaper effortlessly slid under your ass, and you realize you've lost count of how many you've gone through the past week.