Hey you! Yeah, Iâm talking to you, soggy butt. I see you sitting there in your crinkly pants, looking for hot diaper stories. Stories with deliciously embarrassing scenarios. Stories thatâll have your girlfriend wondering if she needs to lock you into that chastity cage after all. Stories you can really soak up.
Getting all tingly? Oh, youâre blushing? Silly baby.
I have just the place for you: Ream. On Ream, you can read all of my completed stories. Stories like Babyâs First Birthday, the Cuckoldâs Crib, and Potty Retraining. Diaper Discipline: The Strict Wifeâs Guide is there, too. Even if you havenât heard of that last one, I bet your mommy has.Â
In total, I have over 200,000 words worth of finished stories for you to read in the privacy of your crib. Just donât get too friendly with your teddy bear, okay?Â
But thatâs not all. Not even close. Each week, Iâm publishing a chapter in two huge, ongoing stories: Rianâs New Sister and The Good News. I know youâre going to love both of them.Â
You might want to sit down and stick that pacifier back in your mouth for this last bit: Iâm also adding a new, completed story every other month. Thatâs in addition to everything above. Wipe that drool off your chin. Iâll pretend I didnât see it (even if Iâll laugh about it with my friends later). The one Iâm launching with is a follow-up to the fan-favorite Our Little Neighborhood.
So go ahead. Take a peek. Iâll be waiting for you.Â
PS: Like anyone in the AB/DL world, I run the risk of my account(s) getting nuked at any time. If you want to be sure to find my stories no matter what, subscribe to my newsletter. I promise I wonât flood your inbox like you flood your diapers.
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The playful texts had been sent back and forth. The teasing had escalated into something more. Now, it was becoming awkward to read the texts in public. What if someone saw the flushed cheeks, the shuffling of pants to not show a rising problem and prevent nearby people from assuming there was a deviant in their vicinity.
What if there is a damp spot on the seat when I stand because my baby boy has made me drip with arousal; while I think of feeling his beard on my thighs and his tongue licking away at my center and his tongue sucking on my clit in that wonderful that he does.
All these thoughts had already happened, but now the script had been flipped. The teasing was being done my Mommy has she pulled her baby boy' face deeper into her.
However, it was her tongue that was causing her diapered boy to squirm while he licked, and sucked at her pussy that was soaked with arousal.
"Did you like teasing Mommy baby boy? Did it bring you pleasure to show Mommy pictures of you and your beard telling her that it was clean, soft, and a good place to sit? Because now you're here where you belong, pleasing Mommy with that tongue of yours, giving me pleasure, and all you can do is try desperately to get relief for my prince part, but you can't. Do you know why?"
I lifted my head slightly to answer, but was immediately she pulled my head back to her pussy.
"You know better than to talk with your mouth full, diaper boy. The reason you can't get relief is because Mommy has her prince part tucked away inside a thick, crinkly diaper, and you will not be allowed to have your cummies anywhere besides that thick crinkly diaper."
I felt her arch her hips and press her pussy harder into my mouth. "Thatâs it baby boy, make Mommy cum in your mouth. All that teasing you did earlier has her so worked up, and I want you to taste me!"
Without stopping, I did as ordered and tasted her arousal and savoring every drop of it.
When she finally relaxed her grip on my head and settled her hips back down on the mattress; she patted the bed beside her, beckoning me to lay next to her. I couldn't help myself as I moved up to lay beside her, my padded prince part against the naked flesh of her thigh.
"Still trying to be a sneaky baby boy, huh my little one?"
"Yes, Mommy."
"Ok, then show Mommy how you can be a big boy."
I sat up quickly and moved to undo the tapes on my diaper.
"No, baby boy, Mommy put you in those, so Mommy is the only one who can take you out of it."
I watched in resignation as Mommy reached behind her head; beneath her pillow, and pulled out one of the vibrating wands. It was the purple one that she used to tease her prince part.
"Here you go, baby boy. Lay down beside Mommy and show her how you can be a big boy with your prince part all locked away inside this thick, crinkly plastic prison.
As much as I had hoped to be a big boy inside of Mommyâs pussy the thought of being gifted an orgasm was too much to pass up. I just as quickly laid back down beside Mommy, taking the proffered vibrator and switched it on pressing it hard against the rustling plastic just above my cock.
Mommy rolled over and placed against the smooth surface just over my balls.
"Go on, baby, show Mommy how you make yourself feel good."
I let out a gasp of pleasure as I found just the right spot on my diaper, and I started to grind harder against the wand.
"Shh, baby boy, not so loud. Here I have an idea."
She grabbed my pacifier from the nightstand, and instinctively, I opened my mouth, but before Mommy placed it between my lips, she slid the pacifier down her body and then just inside her sex. I could only watch in rapt fascination as Mommy twirled the pacifier inside her for just a brief moment before pulling it back out and letting me see the clear, silicone nipple that was clearly glistening from being covered in her arousal.
She pressed the pink pacifier against my lips, and I inhaled the wonderful scent of her pussy before opening my mouth to except the silicone nipple into my mouth.
"There we go. Much better, baby boy. Now show Mommy how you are a big boy. I want you to taste me and know that you are mine and I am yours. My pussy juice is all over your face and all over your tongue, I've marked you and now I want you to show me your devotion and cum for me, baby hoy. Cum for me in your diapers."
While I suckled and used the vibrator Mommy had placed her hand back on the smooth surface over my balls, pressing and rubbing the cotton padding against me while she used that teasing tongue and wonderful brain of hers to bring me to the edge of of orgasm . As she told me to cum for her a second time. I did!
My whole body tensed. I think I nearly bit the nipple of the pacifier off, I'm sure, but as my orgasm peaked, I looked over into Mommyâs eyes and saw desire, softness, and all the other wonderful emotions, but most of all I saw love.
When I finally relaxed, Mommy cradled me softly against her naked flesh. The vibrator was turned off and tossed aside. It felt as if the only thing in the room was the two of us.
Later, as we lay there and felt the cool autumn air blowing through the windows and cooling are warm flush bodies. Just before we both drifted to sleep. I heard Mommy whisper in my ears. "You are safe, you are loved, and you are Mommyâs amazing baby boy."
I wanted to share with you the first part of a new story I've shared with subscribers at Ream. If you like what you read and want more, check out the details at the end of this post.
===
Well, this isnât good.
The gauges are going haywire. All the red lightsâthe ones that are never supposed to be litâare blinking and flashing. At least three different consoles are emitting ominous beeps, screeches, or sirens.
âCome in, come in! Mayday!â The radio is unresponsive.
Donât panic. Itâs easy to recall those words, but in a situation like this they donât really mean anything. Itâs the same as thinking of the words 'alligator butterscotch.â Sure, those are words, but what the fuck do they mean?
First thingâs first, I need to come to terms with what is happening. This plane is going down. Thereâs no stopping that now. Even if Iâm to get the damn thing working again, itâs probably too late to recover.Â
So, then, what are my options?
Donât panic. Alligator butterscotch.
Iâm pulling up. My best chance for survivalâmy only chanceâis that I can somehow stabilize the plane and glide to a landing on the vast sea below me. And even then, itâs going to hurt.Â
And even thenâŚwhat the hell do I do after that? Best case scenario, Iâm sitting on a piece of floating wreckage, waiting for hope that never arrives, and then I justâŚdie.
Woah, woah. One thing at a time. Letâs get the plane out of the sky first. Letâs get out of the plane. Letâs not blow up or drown. And then I can die.
âShit.â Thatâs putting it mildly.Â
ActuallyâŚshit. Yeah, I think Iâm on the verge of crapping my pants. How about that? Maybe someday, someoneâs going to find me. âHey, look, we finally found the body of that explorer-guy. And, uh, he shat himself.â And then thatâs going to be my legacy.Â
At least I wonât be around to hear the snarky remarks about it.
Okay, okay. Focus. Alligator butterscotch.
I look out the cockpit window, scanning my surroundings. Blue. Nothing but sea in all directions, as far as the eye can see. Well, there might be one little blop of brown down there, but I canât afford to take a second look. I pull the nose of the plane up, and after a little bit of a struggle, I mean to get the small aircraft into a nice glide. Aside from all the beeps, boops, sirens, and flashing lights, itâs not a bad ride.Â
Now itâs just a matter of minimizing the damage at impact. No matter what I do, this plane is never going to fly again; so itâs a matter of whether this thing is going to be my coffin or raft. The water is getting closer. It feels like Iâve managed to slow my descent, but the displays Iâd check to confirm that are all busted.
Here comes the water. Bracing for impact.Â
In a moment, Iâm either going to be swimming or dead.Â
Iâm definitely going to crap myself.
Should I say something? Some final words?
âHey, God, if youâre around, maybe you couldâŚâ
Explosion. Darkness.
And thenâŚ
My arms and legs are flailing in the water. Thereâs water in my mouth. In my throat. I donât know which way is up and which is down. Something, somewhere, is on fire because I can see the orange reflections of it in the water. I reach for anything, and I find it. Something long, flat, and most importantly, floating. Despite most of my stamina being smacked out of my body, I manage to hoist myself out of the water and onto the object.Â
Itâs supporting my weight, that seems good. Though if it didnât, Iâd be fine with just sinking. Iâm too tired to do anything else.
Whatâs the condition of the plane? Where am I?Â
I think, maybe, Iâll seek answers to those questions later. Iâm feeling weak. Sleepy.Â
And thenâŚ
This might be a dream. Because I feel hands touching me. Hands that are not my own. I hear voices. I feel my body being lifted.Â
Oh. Maybe Iâm actually being devoured by a shark right now, and this is just how my injured brain perceives it.Â
Unfortunate, but there's not much I can do about that.
âMake it quick,â I mutter. âIâm more of a snack than a meal.â
And thenâŚ
Itâs a surprise to me that my eyes are even opening at all. Well Iâll be damned. Iâm alive, huh? But then the surprises keep coming.Â
Iâm lying on something much more comfortable than whatever piece of wreckage I had been earlier. I feel at it with my hands. Soft blankets. This is a bed.
Thereâs a ceiling above my head. Iâm no expert on such things, but it looks like dense thatching of straw and branches.
I try to sit up, but this proves to be too painful.Â
âNo,â a voice says, soft and feminine. âYou need to rest.â
âI do like that idea,â I say. âBut Iâd also like to know where I am.â
âYou would noât know this place,â she says. âSo just rest.â
I turn my head to see who is talking to me, and there she is. Sheâs tall, with tanned skin and long golden hair. She wears a green shoulderless dress of sorts, with intricate designs weaved through it in gold thread. She is a strong looking woman. Back home, Iâd assume sheâs the type who frequents the gym.Â
âThis isnât a dream?â I ask.
âNo,â she says softly. She comes closer and strokes my head. I wince a little, feeling a sore spot on the side of my skull. Otherwise, I find her hand to be soothing.
âHow long have I been here?â
âDays,â she says.
âDays?â
âMy sisters brought you here a near half cycle ago. You have been unconscious since.â
âOh,â I say, pretending that I know what a âhalf cycleâ is. âYour sisters, huh? You live here with your family?â
She smiles. âAll in our community are sisters.â
Does she mean that literally? Or are âsistersâ just friends? Community members?
âWhere am I?â I ask again.
âYou will not find this place on your maps. We know this because we have recovered them in the wreckage of your vessel, and we could not locate our home on it.â
âWell thatâs not very convenient,â I mutter, already wondering about how Iâm going to get out of this place.
âFirst, we will heal you, Hart. And then we will help you get home.â
My eyes widen at the sound of my last name. âHow did you know that?â
âWe found many things in what remains of your vessel, Hart.â
âJ-Jack, please,â I say. âHart is my last name.â Does she know what a last name is? She knows English. Sheâor someoneâknows how to read a map and whatever other documents they found.Â
âYes, Jack,â she says, nodding.
âAnd your name?â
âLeiâloâialla,â she says, her hand on her chest.
âUhâŚyou got a nickname?â
âYou can call me just Lei if youâd like.â
âThatâs going to work a little better for me, yeah.â
âI am glad to see that youâre awake,â Lei says, a kind smile spreading across her face. âI will need to tell my sisters. They too will be happy for this.â
âHow many, uh, âsistersâ do you have, if you donât mind me asking?â
âThere are many of us,â she says, not elaborating any further.Â
So this is a community, I gather. In a place that isnât on any map. I think about that little speck of brown I spotted in the water as my plane was falling out of the sky. Is that where I am now? Some tiny island in the middle of absolutely nowhere?
âWhere am I?â I ask again, following it up with: âLikeâŚwhat do you call this place?â
âHome.â
âAlright, I walked into that one. But, I meant, likeâŚâ
âMaternis,â she says.
Yeah, that name means nothing to me. Thereâs a million questions I could be asking right now, but as my body slowly wakes, Iâm becoming more aware of other needs that I have. Namely, the aching in my bladder. Goddamn, I hope this isnât days worth of piss that Iâve been holding in while unconscious.
âM-maybe you could help me up,â I say. âI need to go your, uh, bathroomâor bathroom-equivilantâand take care of some business.â
âYou will stay right there,â Lei says, putting her hand on my chest. âYou can just let it out.â
I laugh, shaking my head. âMissy, I donât know if this is part of your culture here or something, but where I come from, itâs frowned up to wet the bed. Especially when itâs someone elseâs bed.â
She laughs a little, an amused little chortle, and proceeds to pull back the thin sheet that is covering my body. âLook. You are protected, Jack.â
Protected? Itâs a curious choice of word and I lift my head a little to look down the length of my body. Iâm not wearing any clothes at all, save for a pair of what appears to be white underpants. For a moment, I pay the undergarment no mind as I gaze at the cuts and bruises strewn across my body. But when my eyes come back to the garment, I observe that itâsâŚvery thick. It almost looks like a makeshiftâŚ
âDiaper?â I ask aloud.
âIt is okay for you to use it,â Lei says. âThat is what it is for.â
âNo offense, Lei. But Iâm not a baby.â
She gives me that soft smile again. Thereâs something kind of maternal about itâit reminds me of how my own mother used to smile at me when she was trying to comfort me when I was a little boy.Â
âNo one will judge you, if that is your concern, Jack. Many of us have already changed you.â
âCh-changed!â I exclaim. âYou mean to tell me that a bunch of strangers have beenâŚchanging my diapers?â
âYour body was sleeping,â she says, nodding. âBut your body still needs to do the things that it must.â
I sigh. âYou mean Iâve been laying here, conked out for days, while pissing and shitting myself in diapers?â
Her hand, still on my chest, runs slow and soothing circles on my bare skin. âYou must not be ashamed, Jack. We have been happy to care for you.â
I bet I really did shit myself when the plane hit the water. These ladies, whoever they are, probably found me with some brown-stained pants. I feel my face getting hot at the thought of women Iâve never met before changing my dirty diapers like a goddamn infant.
âJust go,â she says again, her voice closer to my ear. âYou will feel better.â
âButâŚâ
âJust go,â she says, her finger on my lips to silence me. âI will take care of you.â
It goes against everything I stand for as a strong, independent manâbut everything about her tone and body language puts me at ease. I donât like the situation sheâs putting me in, but I canât deny that sheâs making me feel safe regardless.Â
âFine,â I say. âThen this is your mess to deal with.â
âYes, exactly,â she says, almost looking excited about it.
Itâs easier than it should be. I sigh, relax as much as I can, and allow my bladder to do its thing. My stream surges out of me into the cloth garment, immediately saturating it. Itâs shameful and humiliating, but I canât deny that it feels good to have the relief.Â
Iâve almost emptied the tank when I realize that Leiâs hand is no longer on my chest. I look down the length of my body again to see that itâs now resting on the front of this makeshift cloth diaper. Sheâs feeling it as it swells and warms. And thereâs a big smile on her face.
Where the hell am I?
And thenâŚ
I sense that Iâm still sleeping a lot. Itâll probably be like this for a while as I recover. Iâll come to for a short time and sense daylight coming from somewhere. Then, Iâll close my eyes and open them again, and suddenly everything is pitch black.Â
People come and go. I remember bits and pieces of conversations or things they say to me, though it all feels like a blur. I know that Iâve seen Lei the most, though there are other faces too. Occasionally, there are hands on meâmanhandling and twisting me as they replace the cloth diaper Iâm wearing. I rarely even know that itâs dirty.
âJack?â
Iâm daydreaming about those last few moments in my plane, as I careened towards the water, when I hear Leiâs voice. I focus and look towards the end of my bed, where I see her and two other women. One of them is darker-skinned, with thick braids that hang from her head. The other is younger and smaller, perhaps in her late teens. They were similar dresses as Lei does, simple in form, but with complex patterns sewn into them.
âUh, hey,â I say to them.
âJack, I want to introduce you to some of my sisters,â Lei says. She points to the braided woman, her dress a deep crimson color. âYou may call her Rain.â She points to the other girl, her dress a soft pink color. âYou may call her Fia.â
I sense that these are not their full names, but the shorter versions for an outsider like myself. I nod politely.
âItâs nice to meet you. Iâm Jack.â
âWe are pleased to see that you are awake, Jack,â Rain says. Thereâs something about her stature and the confident tone of her voiceânot to mention the way that the other women seem to regard herâthat suggests that she has some importance here. Perhaps a leader.
âItâs good to be awake,â I say. âAndâŚalive.â
âYes, we are thankful to see that you have survived as well. You have endured a challenging ordeal.â
âTo say the least,â I mutter. âMy plane, itâsâŚdestroyed, I assume?â
âYour vessel has broken into many pieces, Jack. Most of those pieces lie at the bottom of the sea now.â
âDang.â
âYes, though we may yet be able to send you home,â Fia says.
âIs that so? You got a big boat or something?â
Rain holds out a cautious hand towards Fia. âMy sister speaks the truth, Jack. Though we must not get too ahead of ourselves. You are still healing, and it will take time before you are capable of making the trip back to where you came from.â
I donât love that answer, though logically, I know that sheâs right. I can barely move my limbsâand I still canât even get out of this bed.â
âLook,â I say. âI feel like a bad houseguest, crash landing on your front lawn and then overstaying my welcome while you take care of me. ButâŚâ
âNo, it is okay,â Rain says. âWe want you to stay here for as long as it takes for you to heal. We want to aid you in any way that we can.â
What I need âaidâ with right now, unfortunately, is this sopping wet cloth diaper that Iâm wearing. Iâve slowly accepted the fact that I have to wear theseâand that the women here donât seem to mind changing me when I need them to. That doesnât mean that I enjoy it, however. I keep this to myself, though. Sooner or later, theyâll check for themselves and see what I need. In the meantime, I donât like coming off as any needier than I fear that I am.
âI understand that my sister Lei has been taking very good care of you,â Rain says.
âShe has,â I say. âFive-star service.â
âI am pleased to hear this,â she says. Lei, meanwhile, blushes a little, sheepishly looking down at the floor.Â
âAnd you,â I say to Rain. âYouâre in charge around here?â
âI am the elder sister, yes,â she says, calmly nodding. âThough that doesnât always mean that Iâm in charge.â
âAnd, uhm, your other sister here?â I ask, my hand gesturing towards Fia.
âFia here is learning and growingâas we all must at some point,â Rain says. âI have asked her to assist Lei in caring for you. There is much to be learned here. Is that alright with you, Jack?â
âAh, wellâŚâ I feel my cheeks blushing. It would feel strange to decline this, seeing as how I owe them my life. âItâs fine.â
Rain smiles, nodding her head. âDo you have any questions for me, Jack of Hart?â
âUhâŚâ I laugh and shake my head. I mean, where do I even start with that? Iâve got a million questions. âAre there any men around here?â
âNo,â Rain says. âThere are no menfolk here.
âNone at all, huh?â
Rain smiles, but doesnât offer any additional elaboration.
âSo, then, how do yâallâŚuhâŚâ But Iâm not sure a conversation about procreation and reproduction is anything I should be getting into right now. For now, Iâll let that one go, instead opting to ask a different question: âYou speak English very well. Better than a lot of the dum-dums I know back home. Whatâs up with that?â
All three of the women laugh a little, like Iâve stumbled into a local in-joke. âWe know many languages, Jack,â Lei says. âWe know many things about the world.â
âAye,â I say. âBut does the world know about you?â
âI believe you can presume the answer to this,â Rain says, her smile widening again.
And thenâŚ
Iâm sitting up in my bedâthe most Iâve moved in the week since I first woke hereâand Fia sits at the side of my bed, carefully spoonfeeding me some kind of soup from a bowl. I canât say for sure what it is Iâm tasting, but I get hints of coconut, lemon, herbs, and thereâs some sort of meat that I occasionally swallow a small piece of.Â
I keep insisting that Iâm capable of feeding myself, but Fia refuses to take no for an answer. And, well, I think I have trouble saying ânoâ to a face like hers. Those dimples. Those bright yellow-green eyes. Her wispy strawberry hair.
âMay I ask how old you are?â I ask between spoonfuls of warm soup. âI donât mean anything creepy by that. Iâm just not a very good judge of age in the, uhâŚâ I almost say ârealâ world, but I catch myself. Whoâs to say that this world isnât real? â...in the city I come from, let alone here.â
She smirks, shoveling another spoonful into my mouth. âYou will not believe me when I tell you, Jack.â
âHoo boy,â I say. âSo if I guessed that you were 18, how far off am I?â
âHmmâŚI would say that you are very far off.â
âWell, you sure as hell arenât 40. And if youâre, like, 12, Iâm going to just let myself choke on this soup and die.â
âI am 73.â
âIn human years?â
She giggles. âYes, that is right.â
âIs that like a joke? I donât know what humor is like around hereâŚâ
âI promise you that this is the truth, Jack. Ask any of my sisters.â
Itâs hard to truly believe her, but Iâm willing to at least play along. âAnd if youâre 73, what does that make Lei? 400?â
âShe is 143,â Fia says with a playful little shrug.
âGet the fuck out of hereâŚâ
âJack, I must stay and finish feeding you your food.â
âN-no, I just meanâŚâ I sigh and allow her to push another spoon of soup into my mouth. I let it sit on my tongue for a moment, letting the flavors wash over my tongue before I swallow it all. âAre you consideredâŚyoung here?â
âYes, Jack,â Fia says. âI have much to learn yet. Much growing to do.â
I continuously have to remind myself to curtail it with the questions. They donât seem to mind my constant curiosity, but I always feel like Iâm interrogating everyone I talk to.
âThis soup is good,â I say.Â
âIt is a special soup,â she says, nodding her head. âMade for healing. It is good for babies.â
âBabies?â I donât like the way she looks at me when she says that.
She nods and smiles. Putting the spoon back into the bowl, she balances it in one hand while her other hand lands on the crotch of the diaperâs thick cloth. âBaby.â
âIâŚIâm not a baby,â I say, my cheeks getting fiery hot. âMy bodyâs just a little banged up and, uhâŚâ
âIt is not a bad thing,â Fia says. âA baby is special and good.â
âSure, sure, Iâm not going to argue with that. I love babies too, you know? But me? Iâm not a baby myself. Fully grown.â
âHow old are you?â she asks.
âWell, 28, butâŚâ
âSee?â she says. âBaby.â
âI have some ex-girlfriends who would probably agree with you,â I say, sighing.
I notice that her hand is still on the front of my diaper. I swallow nervously, not quite sure what to think of that. I like her hand there, but I canât decide if this is a good thing or not. Is it impolite to get aroused at a time like this? Because thatâs happening. I feel my cock slowly growing in the thick cloth garment.
Maybe I should say something? Cut through the tension a little?
âWell,â I say, âIâm glad to see that still works.â
Fia giggles a little before pulling her hand away from my diaper and lifting the spoon again, loading it up with some more broth and pushing it towards my mouth. I slurp the spoon clean, thinking of everything that I can to distract myself from the bulge in my undergarments.
And thenâŚ
I donât care for this part.
Thereâs a pressure in my abdomen that begs for releaseâa need to fulfill that Iâve always taken for granted until now, when itâs harder to achieve on my own.
What goes in, must come out. And if itâs coming out, itâs coming out into the diaper.
LIke it or not, there really isnât any other option. I continue to be too weak to get out of this bed, and the âsistersâ of this island, when present, insist that I just use my diaper. Never once have they made me feel silly or pathetic for doing so. They happily dote on me, cleaning me up and leaving me and taking care of my every need without a single disparaging word.Â
And so Iâve made a little peace with the fact that Iâll be soiling this diaper too. I donât like it, but I suppose that this situation could be worse.
Iâm sometimes a little curious about the diapers themselves. Theyâre interesting garments, crafted from layers of absorbent fabric that seem to fit my body perfectly, while metal pin-like clips keep the front and back clasped together at my sides. When one diaper is removed, a clean one is presented. It makes me wonder how many diapers they have on hand. Do they have them in different sizes? Or are they being made by someone on demand?Â
And, well, if they do have a stock pile of these diapers, why do they have them sized for adults like myself?
I wonât pretend to be an expert on diapersâalbeit for infants or the elderlyâbut I was under the impression that cloth diapers needed some sort of plastic pants to go over them, due to the porous nature of the fabric. No such thing has been given to me. They must know something about producing a good diaper, though, as Iâve never had one of these things leakâeven after it felt as if I pissed like a racehorse.
Iâm stalling, I guess; thinking about everything other than the fact that I need to defecate. I look around this small room that Iâm in as I sit up as much as I can. Itâs sparseâjust my bed, a small side table, and some sconces on the walls that Iâve seen the women use to hang torches from. Thereâs a window, but it is too high off the ground to see out of, and mostly serves to provide light during the daytime. Am I in a cabin? A hut? A yurt?Â
I can hear waves crashing against the sand outside, especially at night when the world seems extremely still and silent, so I imagine Iâm not too far from the shore.Â
How big of an island is this?
How has no man ever discovered this place before?
How is it possible thatâ
I groan as a cramp reminds me of what Iâm putting off. Iâve considered this before, and Iâve decided that itâs better to use my diaper when Iâm alone and then have someone check in on me, as opposed to having to use my diaper while someone is here watching it happen. Especially for a job like this.
No time like the present, and all that. The sooner I do this, the sooner Iâm free of the discomfort in my bowels.
I lean back, close my eyes, and push. I donât have to push all that hard, though, as my body is more than happy to take over from this point on. My dietâmostly consisting of variations of soups, broths, and little rolls of seasoned vegetablesâhad made my movements a little loose as of late. My bowels erupt like a volcano, forcing a warm lava-like mess to spill into the padding. I groan and attempt to lift my hips a little in an effort to give more clearance in the back of my diaper, but the pain in my muscles is too great to sustain for long. The mess just goes where it goes, seeping into every nook and cranny that it can.Â
By some miracle, not a single drop escapes the garment. These strange diapers are simply made too well to allow for any spillage. The downside of this, of course, is that Iâm not trapped in what feels like a water balloon filled with mud.Â
The smell is less than pleasant, but thereâs little I can do about that. I just sit and wait. Sit and wait.
Then, there are voices outside, approaching the door. Here come my nannies.Â
Sure enough, Lei and Fia spill into my humble abode a few moments later, happy as they ever are to see me. Fia carries a small wooden pail in one hand, and another of the cloth diapers in the other. Lei carries another piece of thick cloth in her own hand, folded up into a neat little square. These are the things they usually bring when they are here to change me.
âAh see, I told you,â Lei says to Fia. âIt will be time to change him.â
===
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I hugged Mr. Fraggles close, trying to get comfortable in the too-small space. It wasnât just that the crib was cramped or that I had to share the space with Gwen, but it was the overwhelming Gwen-ness of the whole space. The overpowering, sweet-smelling scents that clung to everything she owned. The completely unnecessary number of blankets and pillows with lacey, frilly covers and Disney prints. I felt like I was suffocating in cute.Â
Gwen lay on her side. Lying like this, our puffy nighttime diapers nearly touched. Our diapers and their matching covers. Now that had been embarrassing, even if it didnât bother me as much as it did her.Â
The light in the room was dim, but as my eyes adjusted, I could see her glaring at me like a cockroach youâre preparing to crunch underfoot. Is this how a prisoner felt the first night in their cell? Waiting and wondering if they were going to wake up to their cellmate with a shank in their hand and a demented glint in their eye? Of course, she wouldnât use a shank. Maybe a ribbon from her hair. Or one of those stupid Beauty and the Beast pillows.Â
âDo you always breathe through your mouth like a chimpanzee?â Gwen asked. âItâs bad for your health, you know.â
âI donât breathe like a chimpanzee,â I said defensively. I wasnât certain that was true. My breathing wasnât something Iâd given much thought to, and what did a chimp breathe like anyway? I knew that it certainly wasnât a compliment, though.
âAnd your breath stinks. Have you heard of a toothbrush and toothpaste?âÂ
Brushing my teeth was part of our nighttime routine. Sometimes, Mommy had me do it on my own. Sometimes, she had me kneel in front of the potty while she sat on it and brushed them for me, singing the âHappy Birthdayâ song through twice. Â
âSorry,â I said. âI guess we kinda forgot tonight because of all theâŚyou know.â Weâd also forgotten movie night, I just realized. Mommy and I always watched a movie on Saturday night, cuddling in bed with popcorn and snacks. Just another casualty of moving here.Â
âWhatever,â she said. âJust stay on your side of the crib.âÂ
âThereâs not really room for separate sides.â
âAnd breathe through your nose? I donât want to bathe in stinky garlic breath all night, thank you very much. Youâll drool on my pillows if you let your mouth hang open, too.âÂ
Just one night. You can survive one night with her. Then tomorrow we can find the crib parts.
âTry not to pee in my plastic panties,â she said. âI know those diapers she puts you in are a joke so itâs not entirely your fault, but at least try.âÂ
I felt a surge of anger. âAnything else you want to whine about? Mommy takes good care of me. And thereâs nothing wrong with my diapers. Not everything has to be exactly the way you prefer it, you know. Thereâs more than one way to do things.âÂ
âClearly,â she said. âThe right way andâŚâÂ
I rolled onto my back and stared up at the ceiling, which had glow-in-the-dark stars and moons affixed to it. A Totoro nightlight in one corner provided a warm, yellow glow. The room was quiet, with none of the pleasant background hum of traffic noise I was used to. I started to drift off, my mind replaying bits of the day, all jumbled up and out of order.Â
âGross!â Gwen said. She shoved my shoulder.Â
I snapped awake. âWhatâs the matter?âÂ
âYou pooted!â
âHuh?â I mumbled. âOh, farted. Yeah, probably?âÂ
âNot probably. It was loud. Like aâŚI donât know. A gooseâs honk!âÂ
âOkay.â I never held it in anymore. Never held anything in. What was the point of holding in my toots? It wasnât as if I could let them out in the privacy of the bathroom later. Everythingâfar worse than fartsâended up in my diapers eventually. And diaperboys didnât have any need for privacy, Mommy liked to remind me, so no sneaking off to fart in solitude. Hiding in a bedroom to pass gas was the sort of thing I did when I first became her diaperboy but now the very idea seemed silly. Absurd.Â
âWell, it stinks,â she said.
âAs if you donât fart,â I said. âAnd Iâm sure they donât smell like ginger cookies either.â
She didnât respond.
âNothing to say to that, huh? You act so high and mighty, but youâre no different than me and you know it.â
âI am nothing like you,â she spat.
âOh yeah? Well, Iâm gonna laugh my butt off the first time you have a messy diaper. I hope Iâm there to watch you absolutely wreck your stupid Royal Rump diaper.âÂ
She huffed loudly and crossed her arms. Such a ridiculous pose, lying there in the crib, that I had to restrain laughter.Â
âI bet youâre a dramatic pooper,â I continued. âYou probably grunt and get all red-faced when you load your diaper, donât you? Hhhhhhhnnnnnnn! Hhhhhhhnnnnnn!âÂ
âYouâre disgusting,â she hissed.Â
âNot as disgusting as you with a nasty, reeking diaper hanging from your butt, Princess Poopybuns.â
âWhatever,â she said. âI bet you donât make it until lunchtime tomorrow. I might even take a picture so we can all remember the moment.âÂ
No way was I going to be first, I vowed. I could outlast it. Outlast her. I could hold it as long as I needed to. Probably. As long as we didnât have Mexican food. And as long as I didnât drink too many bottles of milk.Â
âGreat,â I said. âWe can frame it and hang it on the wall so you can think of me always.âÂ
She huffed again and glared at the ceiling. âAs if Iâm ever going to have a chance to not think of you again. Iâm stuck with you. You and your bad breath and your weird diapers.â She turned towards me, a smirk teasing the corners of her mouth. âAt least I donât have to look at your stupid blocks in my room.â
Right. I took a deep breath and counted to ten. We needed to talk. Actually talk. Not just bicker about stuff that didnât matter. âGwen, we need to talk about what Davidâwhat your daddyâsaid at dinner. About how he wants to cook dessert for the big dinner next week?âÂ
She didnât respond. Just stared up at the ceiling.Â
âGwen?â
âYou donât cook dessert. You bake it.â
I sighed. âSure. Okay. What kinds of desserts does your daddy like best?â I asked. âIs he into chocolatey stuff? Fruit pies? Cake? Something funky likeâŚwhat are those bananas they light on fire?âÂ
She laughed. A clipped bark of derision.Â
I tried not to be pissedâor at least not snap back at her like I wanted to. Rude as it was, it was more of a conversational opening than Iâd gotten so far. âWhat? Why do you laugh?âÂ
She rolled over and faced me, the tip of her little upturned inches from mine. âHe doesnât care about that.âÂ
âSoâŚlike he doesnât have much of a sweet tooth?â If he wasnât pickyâif this was really more about making Gwen and I work on something togetherâthatâd make this assignment much easier. We could pick something simple, like brownies and ice cream. Or maybe chocolate chip cookies.
âYou saw the garden beds, right?â she asked. âAll the beautiful flowers?âÂ
âUh, yeah?â
âMany of them are ordinary. But a few are rare. Mostly orchids Daddy bought when he was in Japan. Well, this last spring, the Thai Pearl finally bloomed. That never happened before and Daddy was sooo excited. I was so excited, too. Not really about the flower, even if it was pretty, but because he said when it bloomed, weâd have a big garden party. Do you know what a garden party is?âÂ
âOf course I know what a garden party is,â I said. A party in the garden, I figured. The sort of thing people with too much money and too many Victorian-style dresses did after morning tea and before the eveningâs opera.
âHhhhmmm,â she said as if she didnât believe me. âWell in any case, I picked out the prettiest dress and a new pair of pearly white Mary Janes for the occasion. We even got my hair done extra special at the salon. Of course, Daddy invited all of those flower ladies from the arboretum. He had it catered by Amelieâs. Canapes and deviled eggs and little finger sandwiches. Nearly everything had egg in it. It was all proper and perfect, down to the last detail.âÂ
âOookaay?â I didnât see where this was going or what it had to do with the dessert we needed to bake.
She sighed in exasperation. âDaddy hates eggs. Heâs allergic. Not like go-to-the-hospital-allergic, but rashy, sick-to-his-stomach allergic. After the party, he threw up for hours. He didnât tell me, but I could hear him in the bathroom.âÂ
âWhy did he order food he was allergic to? And why did he eat it? He couldâve justâŚnot.âÂ
Gwen stared at me with those big brown eyes. Realization slowly dawned on me. âHe served all of that because thatâs what you serve at a garden party. Thatâs what youâre supposed to do. It doesnât matter whether he likes eggs or not. Thatâs besides the point.âÂ
She smiled slightly, cheeks dimpling, that the dolt finally figured it out.Â
âSo we need to figure out what kind of dessert you serve at anâŚinvestment dinner, talkâŚthingy?â Her revelation didnât make it easier. If anything, the opposite. I could picture a garden party spread: little cucumber finger sandwiches and quiche and whatnot. This dinner he had planned didnât convey any specific image.Â
âNo, thatâs what you need to figure out,â she said. âOr donât. I donât really care.âÂ
âNo,â I said, fighting back the anger, âwe need to work on it together. Thatâs what he said.âÂ
She didnât respond.
âYou donât want to disappoint him, do you?âÂ
She snorted. âYou probably think we can just whip together a box of Betty Crocker cookies or something silly like that. Glop some ice cream on it and call it good. Why would I want to be a part of that? So you can get your stupid blocks in my room? Making anything with you is guaranteed to disappoint him, and Iâm not going to be a part of that.â
âSo youâd rather get punished? Get spanked or whatever?â
She shrugged.Â
I couldnât tell if she was bluffing or not, but I didnât want to risk it. âWhat ifâŚwhat if you get to pick the dessert? And if itâs a hit, you get all the credit. And if itâs not a hitââ
âIt wonât be,â Gwen interrupted, âitâll be a disaster.âÂ
ââand if itâs not a hit, you can blame it on me. Say I picked a recipe that was too difficult. Or I goofed up the measurements. Or that I dropped all the eggshells into the batter. I dunno. Doesnât matter. You get all of the credit and none of the blame.â
She didnât agree. But she didnât immediately shoot it down, either.Â
âOkay,â I said. âWe can do a dry run tomorrow. Pick something out of a cookbook or online andââ
âI canât.â
âYou canât?â
She shrugged. âIâm busy.â
âBusy? Busy with what?â I asked, laughing.Â
âImportant things that are none of your business.â
âI donât think prancing around like Belle while you shit your diaper counts as âimportant things,â princess.â I regretted the words the moment they came out of my mouth.
She rolled over away from me, smacking her padded backside against the front of my diaper. She huffed loudly, then was silent.Â
âLook,â I said, âIâm sorry. I didnât mean that. I just think things will be easier for both of us if we work together on this dessert thing.âÂ
No response.
âWe can find time whenever it works for you tomorrow,â I said. That much was true. At least mostly. I needed to learn about my new chores and I had no idea how long that would take. I had to meet Colette first, but I didnât want to think about that now. One problem at a time. âGwen?âÂ
âLeave me alone.â
I sighed. Outside, crickets chirped. Somewhere, a clock ticked away the time. I was about to apologize again when I heard something else. Something barely audible. I held my breath, listening intently, wondering if Iâd imagined it.Â
âMmmmmhhhhmmmm.âÂ
The sound of a gentle sighs. They floated down the hallway. From Mommyâs room.Â
âMmmmmmhhhhhmmm. âGod, I needed this,â Mommy said. Quiet as it was, I could hear the mixture of hunger and relief in her voice. Like sheâd just settled down to a delicious meal after a long day at work. My stomach turned.
The room was quiet again for a few moments, then Mommy gasped. A sharp, hoarse grunt, followed by a long, gentle moan.Â
Beside me, I felt Gwen stiffen. She heard it, too. She yanked out the hairband, nearly elbowing me in the face, and tossed it aside. She pulled at the braids, drawing her fingers through them roughly, like she was untangling a knotted length of rope. Then she huffed loudly.Â
Dramatic. But then my mind drifted to the cage around my cock. If I could rip that off and toss it aside I would. But I couldnât. Not yet, anyway. I needed to play ball. Figure out how to make this stupid dessert with Gwen, so David hated me a little less.Â
I drifted off to sleep to the sounds of Gwenâs muffled crying and Mommyâs desperate lovemaking.
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Rian's New Sister - Ch. 7 - This Nursery Ainât Big Enough for the Two of Us
Note: This story features consenting adult characters and is intended for a mature, 18+ audience only.
Gwen, David, and I sat in a big chair in the living room for storytime. Gwen on one of Davidâs hard, uncomfortable legs and me on the other. David was tall, but it was still an awkward position. When Mommy read me stories we were usually propped up in her bed, snuggled under some blankets. But when we read in the living room I sprawled out across her lap. That wouldnât work with two people. Not unless Gwen and I wanted have our legs all tangled up in one anotherâs. I wanted as much physical space between usâmiles, if possible, thanksâand I guess she felt the same way. So we each sat on one of Davidâs legs, backs against the sides of the chair, our legs dangly down between Davidâs, trying not to touch each other when we shifted. It was a fitting picture of everything in our stupid, new life: awkward, uncomfortable, and worse than how things had been before.Â
I shifted positions, trying to get comfortable. David wasnât soft and comfy like Mommy. She smelled like vanilla creme body lotion and lavender shampoo. He smelled like aftershave and garlic, and his whiskers scratched me when I got too close. Worse, Iâd felt the warm lump of his penis against my thigh at one point.Â
âDo you always wiggle this much?â David asked me.Â
âHe does,â Mommy called from the kitchen. Sheâd insisted on cleaning up so David could relax and âget in some bonding timeâ with Gwen and me. I gritted my teeth and bit back every nasty response that came to mind.Â
We were on our second story. The Girl and the Dinosaur. It was one of my favorites, but I wasnât really paying attention. I kept wondering if Iâd given in too easily at dinner. Had I caved to Davidâs demands just I could get my blocks in my room? After all, as much as I loved my little village having it in my room wasnât going to fix anything. Weâd still be living in this big, cold house with him and the brat. But outright defiance and arguing never worked with Mommy. Early on in being her fulltime diaperboy Iâd refused to eat a veggie casserole sheâd made. Iâd called it âgrossâ and shoved my plate away. Rather than give me the chicken strips Iâd been angling for she pulled a jar of baby food out of the pantry and smacked it down in front of me, not saying a word. For a whole week, she spoonfed me peas, apricots, and the worstâturkey. Jar after jar of the mushy goop. The slop got on my chin and on my chest. It plopped down on my diaper. Even after she cleaned me up the smell of the stuff clung to me. Almost as bad, it rushed back out the other end just as quickly; I spent more time sitting in messy diapers than clean ones. âIf you want to act like a bratty toddler Iâll treat you like a bratty toddler,â sheâd said at the end of the week.Â
If I refused to go along with Davidâs request, or stuck to my guns and told Mommy we had to move out, sheâd double down. Tell me I needed to give it time. That I needed to trust her. That she was in charge. Iâd still end up doing what they wanted, plus theyâd be angry with me. So Iâd go along with it for now. Give Mommy time to see how controlling David was. And what a self-centered brat Gwen was. See how much better things were when it was just the two of us sharing a home.
âThe end,â David said. He closed the book and set it aside.Â
Finally. I was ready to get in my crib with no one but Mr. Fraggle to keep me company. I slid off his lap. Or tried toâhe put his big hand on my tummy, stopping me. Then reached down and squeezed my wet diaper. He repeated the process with Gwen. âAlright, letâs get you two soggy butts changed. Donât want you leaking all over each other tonight.âÂ
I wriggled away and stood up. Leaking all over each other? Thatâd be quite a feat. Iâd had some epic leaks, but nothing thatâd reach across the room. But even if I was that wet, there was no frickinâ way was he going to change me. Ever.Â
Mommy walked into the room with a bottle in each hand. âHow were the stories?âÂ
I shrugged. Gwen didnât say anything. She hadnât said much since dinner. I guessed she wasnât excited about Davidâs assignment for us either. Finally, something we agreed on. But that I meant Iâd have to convince her; I had more at stake than she did, as David clearly treated her with kid gloves.Â
Mommy chuckled. âLooks like we have a couple of overtired babies.â She handed me a bottle. It was warm, not hot, just like I liked it. âAlright, then. Letâs go change that soggy bum and get you tucked in.âÂ
I followed her up the stairs, David and Gwen behind us. I stopped dead when I reached the nursery. Where my crib shouldâve been there was an empty patch of carpet.Â
âWhereâs my crib? Did you set it up in your room?â I asked. When sheâd first bought my crib for me years ago we set it up in our bedroom. The bedroom had been incredibly crampedâyou could barely walk around the massive crib and king-sized bed to get to the dresser or the closetâbut I wanted to feel close to her as we transitioned to a new sleeping arrangement. A new life. A few months later, the guest room became my nursery and I moved in there with my crib.
Maybe she finally realized how hard this move had been for me and did that to make it easier. I didnât want to sleep in Davidâs room. I didnât want to see Mommy in bed with him. But I couldnât imagine where else they wouldâve set up my crib.Â
Mommy opened her mouth to respond, then closed it again again pursed her lips. She turned to David and nodded at the changing table. âDo you mind?âÂ
âGo for it,â he said. âGwen and I will brush her toofers.âÂ
âWhatâs going on?â I asked.
âClimb on up on the changing table and weâll take about it, sweetness,â Mommy said to me. She put a hand on my back.Â
I shrugged her hand off. âWhere is it?â Â
She pointed at the table.Â
I sighed and padded over, climbing up and laying myself down on the vinyl top, setting my bottle down next to me. Mommy loomed over me. She popped the tapes and pulled the front of my soggy diaper down.Â
âThere was a bit of a mixup with the workers today,â she said. âThey started to put your crib together and realized they were missing some of the hardware.âÂ
âWhat do you mean âmissingâ?â I shook my head. âHave you looked inâŚâ I trailed off. I had no idea where the parts might be. There were still some unopened boxes in this room and a few more scattered around the house, and I knew theyâd put a bunch of stuff in the garage, but I didnât know where to start. âI can look.â I started to sit up. Â
âAh ah,â she said. âStay right there, mister. Weâll get the crib sorted out tomorrow.â She wiped me down, lifting the cage so she could get underneath it. âThere isnât any pinching or chafing or anything, right?âÂ
If I lied and told her it was pinching sheâd take it off. At least for now. But I knew that would be a temporary fix. Sheâd realize it was fine and then be angry Iâd lied. Or buy a different size or model. And as big a problem as the cage was, all I could think about right now was my crib. âIâm not sure if itâs gonna pinch much. Hasnât been on long,â I said, not wanting to commit to anything; that was a battle for another day soon. âIâll put my sleeping bag on the couch. Thatâll work for now.âÂ
She raised an eyebrow. âYou really think David wants you leaking all over the furniture? Iâve told him what a supersoaker you are.âÂ
âWe can build a fort and sleep in it together. Thereâs plenty of room on the floor downstairs. That way Iâm not on the furniture. I can get a couple of sheets andââÂ
âNo, sweetness. You need a good night of sleep. And we need to settle into a normal routine. Youâll be sharing a crib with Gwen tonight.âÂ
âSharing aâŚno. No no no. I canât.â I could barely stand being in the same room as her. Sharing a crib? Iâd have to smell her obnoxious, overpowering lotions and perfume. Have to listen to her lecture me on everything I did in that stuck-up, princess tone that she said everything in. I was sure sheâd find at least ten things wrong with how I laid in bed in the first five minutes.Â
Mommy pulled the wet diaper out from beneath me, leaving my damp backside pressed against the cool vinyl. âYouâre always telling me how bored you get at night. So now youâll have some company. You two can talk and tell each other stories. Figure out what youâre going to bake this week. Just try to get some sleep, âk? Another big day tomorrow.âÂ
âBut sheâŚâÂ
Mommy fluffed out one of my overnight diapers, then slid it beneath me. âShe what? You need to give that girl a chance. You two have a lot in common, you know.â
âYeah, right.âÂ
âYouâre both in diapers, sleeping in cribs. How many people in their early thirties can say that? Sheâs sweet and playful, but can be a bit pouty when she doesnât get her way. Sounds like someone I know.âÂ
I didnât even know what to say to that. We were nothing alike, even if some of the circumstances of our lives were. Â
Mommy leaned closer, her face inches from mine. I could feel her warm breath on my face. See her full, soft breasts hang low in her shirt. âWe both know youâre gonna need some kind of distraction, now that you canât hump your pampers all night long. Sheâll keep you company.âÂ
She smiled sweetly, then straightened back up. My mind reeled, unsure what to say as she finished the change. âBut, what if I leak on her?â I finally asked, grasping for anything.Â
âGross!â Gwen said, walking back into the room. âSee Daddy, I told you he was gonna pee on me. You need to find him a different place to sleep. And make him wear Royal Rumps. Not whatever that is.â Â
David shook his head. âThatâs a fine diaper, Jellybean.âÂ
I didnât want to agree with Gwen about anything and I definitely didnât want to end up in Royal Rumps. But if she pitched a fit about us sleeping in the same crib, something might actually change. âI dunno,â I said, âI leak a lot.â I pulled the bottle to my mouth and gulped down a bunch of warm milk for emphasis.Â
âSee!â Gwen said. âIâm gonna be in a puddle. Do you want your princess in a puddle of gross boy pee?âÂ
âPlastic pants,â Mommy said. She patted my diaper. âHop down.âÂ
âTheyâre still boxed up,â I said, pointing at the stack of boxes by the closet. I slid off the changing table.Â
âRight. Thatâs going to be one of your chores tomorrow,â Mommy said. âGwen will help you find space for all of your stuff.âÂ
Gwen huffed loudly and crossed her arms.
âI have something you can wear for tonight,â Daddy said. He walked over to the closet and returned a moment later with a pair of pink rhumba panties with white hearts on them. Frills traced across the backside and leg holes.Â
âOh, uhâŚâ
Daddy smirked. âItâs okay. Iâm sure Gwen would be happy for you to borrow them, right Gwen?âÂ
Gwen glared at me. As if this was my fault. As if I had any control in any of this.Â
âWell isnât that sweet,â Mommy said. âSay thank you, Rian.âÂ
âYou know what, she has another pair,â Daddy said. He went to the closet and returned with a pair that was white with pink hearts. âOne for each of you. Now you two will match.âÂ
Gwen stared daggers at me as David led her over to the changing table. This was going to be a long night. Mommy fed my legs through the holes and pulled the rhumba panties into place.Â
âTheyâre too tight,â I said, pulling at the elastic around the leg holes.Â
âTheyâre supposed to be tight,â Mommy said. âTo stop leaks. And they look absolutely adorable on you. We might have to get you a pair of your own.â She guided me over to Gwenâs vanity so I could see myself in the mirror. The panties looked ridiculous. Like someone had sewn a bunch of old lady doilies to satin panties.Â
She ushered me over to Gwenâs crib and pulled down the wooden side. âAlright, up we go.â She put a hand under my butt and helped me climb up. Not that I needed help, really, but this was our routine.Â
I stretched out. The mattress was too firm. And it felt narrower than my crib. Far too narrow for two people. The blankets reeked of strawberry or cherry or something sweet and cloying. It was going to be like sleeping in a Bath and Body Works.Â
âI need my blanket and Mr. Fraggle,â I said. âAnd my pillows.â
Mommy shook her head. âAll of that stuff is still packed away. But it looks like Gwen has a bunch of pillows and blankets. And Iâm sure sheâd shareââÂ
âI need Mr. Fraggles.âÂ
She sighed. âAlright, sweetness.â She walked over to the boxes and returned a moment later with Mr. Fraggles.Â
I squeezed him close, his orange fur pressed against my face. He smelled like home, at least.Â
Then Gwen and David were there. I took a deep breath. David scooped Gwen up in his arms and laid her down on the mattress next to me. He leaned down and kissed her forehead. âSleep tight, Jellybean.âÂ
âLove you, Daddy,â she said.Â
âLove you, too,â he said. He drew the side of the crib up and it clicked into place.Â
âNight, sweetness,â Mommy said.Â
I didnât say anything. I just glared.Â
She looked sad for a moment, then nodded her head.Â
I felt a pang of regret twist in my gut. I wanted her to know I loved her. To know that I needed us to be us. But that I was hurt, too.Â
Before the words could come to me, she was leaving. David shut the light out and left the room, and Gwen and I were left in the darkness together.
I've been having loads of fun writing my current Tier 3 (24/7 Baby) story, titled Just Be Yourself:
"Lucas used to take his wife on dates. Used to dance, drink wine, and wake up tangled in the sheets beside her. Now he sleeps in a nursery and wears the diapers she buys him.
When Eliza plans a weekend away with her dominant lover, Lucas sees a chance to prove he is still a man. Gregoryâs sister, Tamsin, will be there, newly free from college and planning a thru-hike of the Appalachian Trail. She represents everything Lucas thinks he has lost: autonomy, adventure, adulthood.
If he can impress her, maybe he can convince Eliza to give him back the independence he craves. But the deeper he pushes against the rules of their relationship, the more he risks losing the intimacy and security he depends on.
To reclaim his manhood, Lucas must decide what he is willing to give up and whether the life he loves is one he can truly choose."
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Note: This story features consenting adult characters and is intended for a mature, 18+ audience only.
As much as I loved a warm, wet, squishy diaper, few things beat the feeling of a fresh diaper after a bath. They never stayed fresh and dry for long these daysâsometimes not even until Mommy was done combing my hairâbut I savored it all the same. Sheâd towel me off, then lay me down on the towel on the bathroom floor. Sprinkle me with powder, and draw the fresh padding all the way up to my bellybutton. I felt warm and snug and cared for.
Tonight, the rigid plastic of the cage blocked off my most sensitive parts from the bunny-soft cotton of the diaper. I told Mommy as much, but she just told me to sush and moved on to Gwen. And Gwen was a princessâat least in her own mindâso everything took longer. And Mommy allowed it to take longer, for some reason. Gwen kneeled in front of the potty as Mommy sat on it, talking about all of the fun things theyâd do together as she braided Gwenâs hair. I sat on the edge of the tub as they talked about girl stuff. Dolls and horses. Makeup and favorite Disney princesses. Then Mommy rubbed coconut lotion into Gwenâs skin. I tried not to stare as she worked it into her breasts. Her tummy. Her thighs. I ached inside the cage. It was so tight I couldnât even get a little hard.Â
âRian?â Mommy asked, eyebrows raised. Â
I jolted to attention, face flushed. âAre you almost done?â I asked.
âHhhhmmm?â she said distractedly.
âYouâve been doing that for, like, half an hour.â Â
âGot a hot date?â she asked.Â
âI bet sheâll love that little cage,â Gwen said. She giggled.Â
I resisted the urge to flip her off. The heat on my buttcheeks helped with that.Â
âWhy donât you go downstairs and help David make dinner?â Mommy said. âIâll be down soon to help out, too.â She turned back to Gwen, a contented expression on her face.Â
Had she always wanted a babygirl? Had she just settled for me? I dismissed that thought. She hadnât wanted any of this. Not at first, anyway. When we were first dating she was vanilla. Or close enough. Itâd been a lot of baby steps, funnily enough, to get us where we were. And then that one weekend in Montreal that changed it all for good. But none of it had been her idea. Not initially.
That doesnât mean she wonât realize sheâd prefer a babygirl now, does it? That a cutesy little princess is more adorable than a diaperboy?
âHe doesnât need help,â Gwen said. âCollete does almost all of the cooking. Daddy isâŚnot a great cook. Except for pancakes.â
I had this feeling that if I were here in the room with them I could stop this weird connection or bond or whatever was forming between them. âSee?â I said. âHe doesnât need me.â
âRian?â Mommy said.
âI want to stay.âÂ
Gwen rolled her eyes. âIs he always this difficult?âÂ
âNo, Iâm not sure whatâs gotten into him. He can be a crankypants when heâs tired. Or when his routine is disrupted.â She leaned closer and mock-whispered in Gwenâs ear. âOr when he hasnât filled his diaper in a few days.âÂ
Gwen snickered.
âVery funny,â I said.
At home, sheâd take me into the bedroom for cuddles and story time after a bath. Weâd each pick a storybook. Or sometimes, sheâd read a chapter of a grownup story to me. And if I was lucky, Iâd sleep in her bed. I thought about bringing that up, but I needed to save all of my goodboy points to convince themâto convince Davidâthat I should have my blocks in my room. And I needed her help for that. David didnât listen to me. He treated me like an actual toddler. And a not very bright one at that.Â
I waddled out of the bathroom, my thick night-time diaper pushing my legs apart. I crinkled down the steps and into the kitchen. It smelled of garlic and red sauce and cheese. Some sort of Italian dish, I guessed.
David sat at one end of the massive dining room table, a laptop open in front of him and a stack of papers beside it. He typed furiously, stopped and rubbed the stubble on his chin, then typed furiously again.
âHey,â I said.Â
He didnât answer.Â
I sat down in the chair next to him, diaper crinkling loudly. âSo, what is it you do? For work, I mean.â
No answer.
âAre you, an attorney or something?â I donât know why that profession came to me. I thought Mommy had mentioned something like that at one point. Or had she said accountant?
He sighed and looked up. âNo, Iâm not an attorney.âÂ
âAccountant?â I asked hesitantly.
âI own a chain of Mexican restaurants.âÂ
âOh. Cool. I love Mexican food. Especially Chile Rellenos. Iâm a librarian. Was, anyway. BeforeâŚyou know.â I gestured at my puffy diaper. Â
âHhhhhmmm,â he said.
âI liked it. Well, I liked the actual job. Managing a highly organized system like that is satisfying. âEverything has a place and everything in its place,â you know?â I chuckled. âBut dealing with some of the people was really stressful. Some of our patrons were unreasonable. Most were pleasant enough, but the ones that werenât were a nightmare. And my bossâŚyeah.âÂ
He looked back down at his laptop.Â
âSo, uh, how many restaurants do you have?âÂ
âWhat?â
âYou said it was a chain. How many restaurants do you have?âÂ
He sighed and closed the laptop. âNineteen.âÂ
âOh, wow. Are you getting any more? Or is that it? Iâve always wondered how someone knows its time to stop expanding.âÂ
âMy business partners and I are trying to sell. In fact, a prospective buyer is coming next week to go over the details.âÂ
âComing here?â I asked. I wasnât sure I loved that idea. Then again, it was a big house and I could probably just avoid them easily enough.Â
âHey, you two,â Mommy said, walking down the stairs. âCare if we join you?â Gwen followed her down the steps in white footie pajamas with a pink belly. They must have been uncomfortably warm, even with the AC going full blast. Apparently the rule about diapers being on display at all times wasnât consistently enforced. Shocker.
David grinned. âWell look at you, jellybean. Turn around and show daddy the back.âÂ
Gwen did a pirouette, her braids whipping around her, and displayed the bunny rabbit tail in back. She beamed.Â
âAdorable,â he said. He stood up and patted her puffy bottom. âLetâs get some food in that tummy.âÂ
âJust relax,â Mommy said. âI can make us some dinner now,â Mommy said. âUnless you already started it? Something smells good.â Â
 âCollete left a lasagna in the fridge,â David said. âI warmed it in the oven, along with some garlic bread. Thereâs a Cobb salad in the fridge. And double-fudge brownies for dessert.âÂ
âOh,â Mommy said. âOkay. Well, then Iâll dish everything up.âÂ
âWho is Collete?â I asked. Iâd heard that name a couple of times, now.Â
David sat down. âLet the little ones do it, hon. Gwen can show Rian where everything is. He needs to start learning so he can do his chores.âÂ
Gwen pouted. David patted her butt again. âGo on, now.âÂ
I followed her into the kitchen as Mommy was leaving. I didnât mind helping out, but I wasnât thrilled to be working with Gwen. âWho is Collete?â I asked her.Â
âShe helps out with the cooking and cleaning. And some other stuff.âÂ
âOh. And she knows aboutâŚâ I raised an eyebrow.
Gwen nodded. âShe does. She thinks itâs funny, mostly. Sheâs nice. She helps me with my makeup, sometimes.âÂ
âShe thinks itâs funny?â I didnât like the sound of that.Â
âThe glasses are here.â She pointed. âPlates are up there.âÂ
I opened the cabinet door and pulled out a stack of plates. âLike, what kind of funny?â
âNot those ones,â Gwen said. âDaddy likes these the best.âÂ
I pulled out a different set of plates and brought them to the table. Gwen followed with glasses and silverware. David and Mommy were deep in conversation. â...Wednesday, most likely,â David was saying. âProbably just him this time. But the full group of investors if this meeting goes well. Weâve already met twice, but he wants toâŚI donât know, get a sense of who I am?â He shook his head.
âIs this the guy you were talking about?â I asked.Â
âSweetie,â Mommy said, âthe grownups are talking. Why donât you get your high chair out.âÂ
âCanât I just sit at the taâŚâ David looked my way and I trailed off. âOkay.âÂ
I pulled my high chair over next to the table, pulled the tray off and put it on the table, then sat down. Mommy usually did that. I thought about asking her, but I was saving up for the LEGO question.Â
âYou too, Jellybean,â David said.Â
âIâll help,â Mommy said. She stood up and lifted Gwenâs high chair and set it next to mine. Right next to mine.Â
âThanks,â Gwen said sweetly.
âOf course,â Mommy said. She removed the tray. âNow why donât you scoot your buns up there. Or do you need me to lift you up?âÂ
Gwen climbed up and settled. âI got it.âÂ
Mommy slid the tray into place and kissed the top of her head. âSuch a good girl.â She turned away to get my tray and Gwen stuck her tongue out at me. It happened so fast I thought I might have imagined it.Â
Mommy served up food, setting plates down in front of David, then Gwen, then me. As much as I wanted to hate itâif only because it was made by someone who laughed at people like meâI couldnât. It smelled amazing. Looked amazing. I took a heaping forkful: it tasted even better. Rich and greasy and cheesy.Â
Mommy settled down next to David. âSo, this investor. Does he know aboutâŚâ she waved her hands around.Â
David winced. âKind of. Heâs a young guy. Pretty progressive, as far as I can tell. I told him that I had an unconventional relationship. I think heâs filled in the gaps to think that means poly. Iâm gonna let him think thatâs the extent of it. No diapers or anything. Iâm not sure how heâd handle that and itâs none of his business, anyway.âÂ
Mommy nodded. âDo you know what he likes to eat? I make a killer paella. And if he doesnât like seafood, thereâs a bolognese sauce Iâve been wanting to try out.â
David waved his hand. âColette will prepare something.âÂ
âAre you sure?â
âMmmhhhm.â
âAlright, then. I can make dessert.âÂ
âI have a plan for that,â David said.Â
âOh,â Mommy said. âOf course. Whatever you think will make the evening a success.âÂ
âThe important thing isâŚâ David trailed off and scowled at me. Then Gwen and Mommy turned to stare at me, too.
âWhat?â I asked.Â
Mommy wore the hint of a smile. âYou have some food on your chest. And your chin.â She dabbed at her own chin.
I looked down to see a splatter of sauce on my chest. I wiped a hand across my chin and came away with more sauce and a glob of melted cheese. I popped the cheese in my mouth.
David sighed. âCan you not hold the fork like a shovel?âÂ
I thought I was being good using a fork at all. Half the time at home Iâd just dig in with my hands. Though lasagna wouldâve been pretty messy, so that probably wouldnât have been the best idea. âSure,â I said. I adjusted my grip on the fork. If I could go more than two minutes without annoying him Iâd have a better chance of him agreeing to putting my village in the nursery. But that was a big if.
âHe usually has better manners than this,â Mommy said. âItâs been a long day. A long month.âÂ
David nodded. âI get it. Gwen too. That fit earlier?â He shook his head. âShe usually has more self restraint than that. Even when sheâs been provoked.âÂ
Next to me, Gwen held her fork halfway to her mouth, and stopped. The hunk of lasagna plopped onto her plate. She looked crestfallen. Like someone had just run over her puppy.
I snickered. Pretty little princess knocked off her throne.
She whipped around and faced me, eyes blazing. âYou think thatâs funny, huh?â she whispered. âGuess who is gonna be laughing later tonight?âÂ
âWhat do you mean?âÂ
She shrugged nonchalantly. âIâm gonna slip my hand in my diaper. Play with myself. Probably for a long time. It feels soooo good when itâs all warm and wet. It makes me all warm and wet. Youâll be stuck in your peenie cage.âÂ
I shrugged. âWhatever.âÂ
âI bet you canât even remember what a pussy feels like, can you?âÂ
âYeah, I can,â I said around a mouthful of food.Â
âDoubt it. How longâs it been since she let that sad little peepee near her? Five years? Ten?â She put her hand over her mouth, eyes wide. âOr are you a virgin? You are, arenât you?â She giggled.Â
âNo, Iâm not. Thatâs stupid. WeâŚâ I stopped and shook my head.Â
âLooks like you missed your chance, now that youâre in your cucky cage, huh? Gonna be mommyâs sweet lil virgin boy forever.âÂ
I opened my mouth to tell her to fuck off and stopped. Thatâs what she wanted. She wanted me to lash out. Scream. Call her names. Because if I did, sheâd look good in comparison. Sheâd be back on the pedestal.Â
âMommy,â I said.Â
Beside me, I could practically feel Gwenâs excitement. It wasnât the fit sheâd hoped for, but she thought I was going to complain. Whine. Make a big fuss. Instead, I calmly asked a question. âCan you ask David aboutâŚ?âÂ
âAsk me what?â David said.Â
âOh, nothing we need to worry about tonight,â Mommy said. âYouâve had a stressful day.âÂ
âPlease,â I said. âI really want to start adding the coastline tomorrow. âspecially now that I have the Skullâs Eye Schooner. Thatâs such an awesome set,â I added. âThanks again for getting it for me.â Couldnât hurt to be appreciative, and it really was an awesome set.
âYour blocks or whatever?â David asked. He waved his fork. âSure, okay. We can set a table up in the laundry room or something. Or under the pergola.âÂ
I cleared my throat. âI was hoping, uh, that we could put the table in my room.âÂ
âThereâs no space,â Gwen said. âI already told him.âÂ
âSee?â David said. âNo room in there. Weâll set stuff up down here. Colette can help you tomorrow.â There was a finality in his tone. My heart sank.Â
Mommy reached out and squeezed his hand. âThis means a lot to him. Can we at least try it? If it doesnât work out after a few days weâll move it downstairs. Iâll do it myself.âÂ
David paused. I held my breath.Â
âSure,â he said. âColette will help you set them up.âÂ
Gwen sighed loudly. âUuuuggghhh.â
âBut I need something from you,â David said. âWhen Cristalli is here next week I want you to be on your best behavior. No sauce splattered all over yourself like a barbarian. No holding your fork like a coal miner. Manners. Adult manners. And you have to prove it to me between now and then.âÂ
Itâd been a long time since Iâd needed to pretend at being adult. Last week Iâd loudly farted in the grocery store without thinking. After all, I did far worse than fart in my diaper, so why hold it in? The two college-aged students in the aisle with me were not impressed. They ran off without their cart while I let the heat of humiliation wash over me. It was a reminder of how much Iâd changed.
A month or so before that, we were in the DMV dealing with some paperwork. The clerk asked for our names and I referred to Amara as âMommy,â a big, dopey smile on my face. That raised some eyebrows, though Mommy just shrugged it off.Â
I wasnât sure I could do it. Act like I had a job and played golf with the guys and didnât piddle my diaper multiple times throughout dinner. But it was worth the attempt right? Not just for my village, but to get off on a better foot with David?
I nodded. âOkay. Sure.âÂ
âAnd just to be clear, Iâd rather use the carrot than the stick,â David said. âBut you know I have no problem with the stick if thatâs what works best.âÂ
âI know.â I started eating again, paying attention to how I held my fork.
âOh, and thereâs one more thing Iâd like you to do,â David said. âGwen, you need to listen to this, too.â Â
My longest-running story is The Good News. Seventy-six chapters and counting!
"Hailey volunteers for SHINE, a college organization that believes all males belong in diapers.
While spreading the good word door-to-door, she meets Martin. He's rude, surly, and smells like he hasn't showered in days. She knows he belongs in diapers, but there's no way he will agree willingly. So she enlists some help - and goes to increasingly extreme measures - to put Martin in his place and ensure he will never get out of diapers again."
The world had changed so much in the last few years. Men, boys, really, were regressing everywhere. Some fought it, clinging to their old lives, their old selves, but most eventually gave in. The media, the cartoons, the subtle shifts in society, it all pushed them toward toddlerhood, toward diapers, toward the comforting arms of a mommy. And for those who embraced it, there were places like this: a cozy, sunlit apartment where little boys in onesies and overalls gathered, their stuffed animals in tow, their diapers crinkling with every step.
Youâve been coming to these munches for months now. Most of the boys here are already fully regressed, their lives revolving around their mommies, their diapers, their pacifiers. But Rob? Rob is different. Rob still has a big boy job.
Heâs new. Not to regression, oh no, heâs been in diapers for a while, you can tell by the way he moves, the way he fidgets when heâs wet but to this. New to these muches.
Rob is always early to arrive. He sits quietly in the corner, his stuffed rabbit clutched tightly to his chest, his overalls straining just a little over the thick bulge of his diaper. He never asks for help. Never complains. Never even hints at needing a change, no matter how long heâs been squirming. Youâve watched him, seen the way his fingers dig into the fabric of his overalls when heâs wet, the way his cheeks flush when he thinks no oneâs looking. Heâs so used to handling everything himself that the idea of asking for help doesnât even cross his mind.
And that, more than anything, breaks your heart.
Today, you decide to change that.
The munch is in full swing, mommies chatting over coffee, little boys playing with blocks or coloring, the air filled with the soft rustle of diapers and the occasional giggle. Rob is perched on the edge of the couch, his rabbit pressed to his chest, his legs squeezed tightly together. Heâs been fidgeting for the last half hour, his fingers twisting the ears of his stuffed friend, his breath coming in short, shallow bursts.
You slide onto the couch beside him, close enough that your thigh brushes against his. He tenses, his body going rigid, but he doesnât pull away.
âYouâre so quiet today,â you murmur, your voice warm, inviting. âEverything okay, sweetheart?â
Rob swallows hard, his fingers tightening around his rabbit. âIâm fine, thanks,â he says, but his voice is too high, too tight. A lie. A bad one.
You reach out, your fingers gently brushing the back of his hand. âYou donât look fine,â you say softly. âYouâve been squirming for ages. Are you wet?â
His face burns crimson. He doesnât answer, but the way his legs press together, the way his breath hitches, tells you everything you need to know.
You donât push. Not yet. Instead, you lean in just a little closer, your voice dropping to a whisper. âYou donât have to do everything alone, you know.â
Robâs breath catches. His eyes flicker to yours, wide and uncertain, before darting away again. He doesnât say anything. He doesnât have to.
You stand, holding out your hand. âCome on,â you say, your voice gentle but firm. âLetâs get you into a fresh diaper.â
Rob hesitates. His fingers twist in the fabric of his rabbitâs ears, his lower lip trembling. He doesnât argue. Doesnât refuse. He just stares at your outstretched hand like itâs a lifeline heâs afraid to grab.
You wait.
And then, slowly, his hand slips into yours.
The nursery is warm, the walls painted a soft pastel blue, the changing table already stocked with fresh diapers, wipes, and cream. Rob stands in the center of the room, his rabbit clutched to his chest, his eyes darting between you and the changing table. Heâs trembling, not from fear, but from something deeper, something heâs never let himself want before.
You guide him backward until the back of his knees hits the edge of the table. âUp you go,â you murmur, lifting him with ease, his slight weight nothing compared to the warmth flooding your chest.
Rob whines as you lay him down, his overalls already unbuttoned, the thick, sagging diaper beneath exposed. Itâs heavy, the plastic crinkling with every shift of his hips, the front bulging with the weight of his accidents. His face burns with shame, but you only smile, your fingers tracing the outline of the wetness.
âSuch a good boy,â you coo, your voice thick with affection. âYouâve been peeing alot, havenât you?â
Rob nods, his lower lip trembling. He doesnât speak. He doesnât have to.
The diaper tabs come undone with a soft rip, the sound making Rob flinch. You peel the soggy diaper away from his skin, folding it in on itself, the scent of his accident filling the air. Rob whimpers, his hands covering his face, but you only hum, your touch never wavering.
You clean him with slow, deliberate strokes, the wipe gliding over his sensitive skin, wiping away every trace of his accident. Rob shivers under your touch, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps, his fingers twisting in the fabric of his rabbitâs ears.
He whines, his voice breaking.
âShhh,â you soothe, pressing a kiss to his thigh. âIâve got you now.â
The fresh diaper is thick, the plastic backing crinkling as you unfold it beneath him. Robâs breath hitches as you lift his hips, sliding the diaper into place, the soft fabric pressing against his skin. You take your time taping it snugly around his waist, your fingers lingering on the smooth plastic, adjusting the fit until itâs perfect.
Rob is trembling by the time youâre done, his cheeks wet with tears he didnât even realize he was crying. You wipe them away with your thumb, your touch impossibly gentle.
âThere,â you murmur, pressing one final kiss to his forehead. âAll better.â
Rob looks up at you, his eyes wide and glistening. âT-thank you,â he whispers, his voice raw with emotion.
You smile, your heart so full it could burst. âAnytime, sweetheart,â you say, helping him sit up, your hands steadying him as he finds his balance. âYou never have to do it alone again.â
And as Rob clutches his rabbit to his chest, his diaper crinkling softly with every movement, you know, this is only the beginning. For both of you.
@ameliemommy is a fantastic writer and super cool person. I've liked and reblogged a ton of her stories on here. Do yourself a favor and follow her new blog!
Note: This story features consenting adult characters and is intended for a mature, 18+ audience only.
âBut wwwhhhyy canât I wear a swim diaper?â I asked.
Mommy looked up from her phone and giggled.Â
âWhat?â
She sat on a stepstool next to the massive tub as steam filled the bathroom. The frothy peaks of bubbly mountains had just begun to appear over the edge of the tub, so I knew it couldnât be much longer before Iâd need to get in. Sheâd been scrolling away as the tub noisily filled, and we waited for Gwen.Â
âIâm serious,â I said.Â
âSorry, sweetness. Itâs just been so long since Iâve seen you on a toilet. I wasnât sure you even remembered how they worked. Careful the potty monster doesnât get you.âÂ
Sitting on a potty did feel weird. Like a memory from another life. Or from someone elseâs life. I shifted uncomfortably, and the stupid chastity cage clinked against the toilet seat. After theyâd put the cage on me Mommy had ushered me into the bathroom and made me sit on the potty. âDonât want any puddles on the floor, do we?â sheâd said.Â
I heard footsteps in the hallway. And hushed voices. Sheâd be here soon. The devil in angelâs clothing. âWe have half a pack left over from the camping trip with Martinâs family last summer,â I said. âIâll go get one.âÂ
âI threw them out. We need to get you a proper, reusable one for the pool here. Davidâs rules. Besides, how am I supposed to get you all squeaky clean with your boy bits covered up, hhhhmm?âÂ
More voices in the hallway.
âBut, I donât want her to see myâŚyou knowâŚâ I looked down at the blue chastity cage.Â
When I got over my initial shock at first seeing the cage in the bedroom, I was relieved: theyâd bought one that was too small. It was maybe two inches long. There was no way Iâd fit. I wasnât huge down there, but itâd be silly to even try to get this thing on me. Like shoving a cucumber into a straw. But Mommy insisted. She untaped my diaper and flopped down the front. She squirted a glob of baby oil in her palm and worked it into my bits. No teasing or playfulness. Just right down to business. Like diaper changes when she had something else she needed to go do. Still, Iâd started to get hard. Her hand was so warm and soft. So slick. âNone of that,â sheâd chided. âIâll get a bowl of ice water if I need to.â Iâd wilted at the thought. Â
She fed my balls through a plastic ring, remarking that they felt really full. David chuckled and said that was something Iâd need to get used to, and thatâs when the reality of my situation crashed down on me. No more humping Mr. Fraggle in my crib during naptime. No more stealing Mommyâs vibrator and holding it against my soggy diaper until I exploded. No more special, sticky diaper changes on Sunday mornings, or when Mommy felt Iâd been an extra good boy.Â
I protested. Asked her not to put the cage on. Pleaded to give me one more special diaper change first. Then I begged to just let me touch myself. Just for a few seconds. She didnât respond to any of it, just kept putting the cage in place. Then there was a *click* and it was on. Tight, but not painful. She slipped the silver key onto a simple chain and then put it over her head. The key to my freedomâto my manhoodâhung between her beautiful breasts. She handed a second key to David, who put it in his pocket.Â
Gwen walked into the bathroom, jolting me back into the present. She had stripped down to just a purple-and-white Perfect Princess diaper and a light pink undershirt. I could see the outline of her nipples through the fabric.Â
âHey, Gwen,â Mommy said cheerfully. She turned back to me. âYou donât need to be embarrassed about your peepeeâs new home. Itâs going to be tucked away in your diapie anyway, remember?âÂ
Gwen looked down at me and frowned. âIs that aâŚ?âÂ
Mommy stood up. âWe were just talking about it before you came in. Thatâs just something to help keep Rian from worrying about big boy stuff so he can stay my sweet lilâ baby forever.âÂ
I seethed at the description. As if this was for my own good.Â
âItâs not very big, is it?âÂ
Mommy chuckled. âLetâs get you two into the bath.â She dipped her fingers in. âTemp is just right. Rian, why donât you get in while I help Gwen with her diaper.âÂ
âI can do it myself,â Gwen said.Â
Mommy put her hands on her hips and raised an eyebrow.
âOkay,â Gwen said. âFine.âÂ
âThatâs a good girl,â Mommy said.Â
Finally, someone stood up to the brat. Even if just a little. I stepped around them and over to the edge of the tub. I climbed in and settled down into the warm water, trying not to cry out as my butt came into contact with it.Â
âIsnât that nice? So much bigger than our tub at home, youâll have lots of room for your ships.âÂ
âThereâs no shelf for my toys,â I said.Â
Mommy sighed and shook her head. âOkay, baby.âÂ
âWhat?â I asked.Â
âJust because something is different doesnât mean itâs bad. You know, at one point, you being my baby boy was a big change. A huge change. That wasnât bad, was it?âÂ
âThis bubble bath is weird, too.â It smelled like grape or something and turned the water purple. âNext time I want to use our old kind.â
Mommy sighed and pulled Gwenâs shirt over her head, exposing her breasts. Then came the diaper. Four quick pops and the wet diaper plopped onto the tile. She was fully shaved down there. I felt myself swell against the hard cage. It didnât hurt, but it was uncomfortable. Worse, I knew I my mind would replay this memory later when I was alone, but I wouldnât be able to do anything about it with the stupid cage locked on.
Princess scowled at me. âI donât want to get in.âÂ
âWhy not?â Mommy asked. âDo you need some toys? Iâm sure Rian will share his boats.âÂ
âShips, not boats. And I donât want to share them.âÂ
âHeâs looking at me weird,â Gwen said. âLikeâŚdirty.âÂ
Mommy laughed. âWell, believe me, he can definitely be a very dirty boy. Stinky, too. But not dirty like youâre talking about. Not anymore.âÂ
âReally?â Gwen asked. âSo that thingâŚ?â She pointed at the place between my legs. The cage was hidden by bubbles but there was no mystery as to what she pointed at.Â
âKeeps him small and soft and adorable. Nothing you need to worry about.âÂ
Gwen snickered and stepped down in the tub. She plopped down next to me. Far closer than she needed to. Her knee rubbed against mine.Â
I scooted away. She moved closer.Â
âSheâs sitting too close to me,â I said to Mommy.Â
âI bet she just wants to be friends. Right Gwen?âÂ
Gwen nodded, but the smirk was still there. How did they not see how manipulative she was? Was it because she was an attractive girl? They couldnât look beyond that fake smile and the ribbons in her hair and all that nonsense?Â
âShe should wear one, too,â I said to Mommy. I scooted as far away from Gwen as I could. âA cage.âÂ
Mommy looked at Gwen and raised her eyebrows. âSee? Such a sweet lilâ boy he doesnât even know the difference between boy parts and girl parts.â Gwen snickered.Â
âYou know what I mean,â I said. âOne for girls. They must make âem.âÂ
Mommy ignored me. She was looking all around the room. âSorry, sweetness. Looks like your ships didnât get unpacked yet. They must have been put in the wrong room. Maybe the downstairs bathroom.â
âGo look for them,â I said. âI always play with my ships in the tub.âÂ
Mommy shook her head. âGwen has a basket of toys right here. Iâm sure sheâll share, right, Gwen?âÂ
Gwen smiled sweetly. She leaned over the tub, her left breast, slick with bubbles, slid against my arm. A shiver ran up my back. Yeah, that was definitely something Iâd replay later in my crib.
No. No, you wonât, I thought. Youâll toss and turn, your wet diaper snug against you as your mind plays a highlights reel of soapy breasts and soft, pink pussies. How was I going to survive like this? I might literally, actually explode.Â
Gwen held out a toy. A pink, plastic boat with a rainbow across the sail.Â
I ignored her. âThis cage is too small,â I said. âItâs hurting me.âÂ
Mommy arched an eyebrow.Â
âCan we take it off?âÂ
âYou really want to talk about this now?â she asked.Â
âWe donât want to have to go to the hospital and explain why my parts are all messed up,â I said. âThatâd be so embarrassing for everyone. Worse than those stories you hear about people putting carrots and wine bottles and stuff up their butts. We can get a bigger one later. One that fits.âÂ
Gwen shrugged and rested the ship on my knee. âI canât wear a cage, anyway,â she said in a sing-songy tone. âDaddy and I still have special time. I donât know what Iâd do without that.âÂ
I felt a stab of anger. âOh yeah? You donât think anything is going to change now thatââ I struggled to get the words out ââweâre here and heâs sleeping with Mommy every night?âÂ
Her eyes went wide for half a second. That certainly touched a nerve. Then it passed. She shrugged and acted as if she didnât care.Â
âThat wasnât very nice,â Mommy said. âIâm sure nothing will ever come between Gwen and her Daddy. As for you, that cage is a perfect fit for a perfect little peepee.âÂ
âBut, what if it gets infected or something? Itâs gonna get so dirty in there. Lots of germs andâŚâÂ
Mommy chuckled and looked at the girl. âBoys and their bits. Would you believe that just last week I had to remind him to wash his hands three times after he played in the mud with Martin? Now all of a sudden heâs mister hygiene.âÂ
âSo gross,â Gwen said. âHeâs probably just wondering when youâre going to take it off and wipe him so he can make stickies.âÂ
âBingo,â Mommy said. She turned to me. âIâll keep you clean. Donât you worry about that. And for the question you really wanted to ask, we have a release schedule for you.âÂ
âRelease schedule?â I asked. That sounded so formal. So clinical.
âMmmmhhhhmmm.âÂ
âSo, likeâŚsex?âÂ
Mommy laughed. A big, hearty laugh. Gwen joined her. I wanted to sink down under the bubbles. âOh, sweetie. No. Didnât you hear what David said? Those parts are just for soaking your diapies from here on out. Your stickies belong in your diapers and thatâs just where they will be going.â
âBut youâll take my cage off and give me a special change, orâŚ?â
âI didnât say that now, did I?â Mommy said. She picked up a washcloth and squirted a glob of baby shampoo into it. âThatâs not for you to worry about. Just like you donât have to worry about diaper changes, right? David and I talked this all over.âÂ
âBut, butâŚwhat if I need to cum before the scheduled time?âÂ
âCum?â Mommy asked, raising an eyebrow.
âMake stickies,â I said through gritted teeth. âWhat if I canât wait for my nextâŚrelease?âÂ
She leaned over the tub and began scrubbing Gwen down. âThen youâll make stickies in your sleep. While youâre having dreams about how much you love your diapies, Iâm sure.â
I slumped down against the back of the tub. Why were they doing this? And why did he get to determine when I could cum? How I could cum? The earlier reference to Jake came to mind again. Was David just going to take charge of my life and Mommyâs? Was she going to be a mommy in name only, just doing whatever he said?Â
âYouâre going to bring my village into my nursery, right?â I asked.
Mommy stopped scrubbing for half a second, then resumed. âItâs been a long day, sweetness. Soon itâll be time for din-din and then night-night.â
âBut, I need it in there. I need to start working on my pirate stuff.âÂ
âThereâs no space,â Gwen said. âI already told you that.âÂ
âMommy,â I said.
She sighed. âIf you really canât wait until tomorrow, we can discuss it at dinner, okay?â
Find a TON of stories on Ream, with new chapters added every week.
Hereâs chapter eighteen of the ongoing, collaborative story written by my friend, BoysRBabies, and me.
All characters depicted in this work of fiction are 18 years of age or older. Readers should also be 18+ only!
âOh my gosh! Is that Tyger?â the girl in the yellow dress asked. âI almost didnât recognize you without a load in your pants.âÂ
The girl in the red dress covered her mouth, stifling her snicker.Â
No way. Not this again.Â
Tyler backed up towards the door. His back connected with a set of hands.Â
âAh ah,â Miss Rosie said. âThese lovely young ladies took time away from their studies to help you. Be nice.â She gently nudged him forward with one hand and swatted the seat of his diaper with the other.
Tyler stumbled forward into the room, nearly tripping.Â
The door clicked closed behind him. A second click locked it.Â
âWelcome,â Miss Calli said.Â
A handful of guys sat cross-legged on the floor. One, Jeffy or Jerry or something like that, lay on his stomach, legs kicking playfully in the air. His puffy diaper crinkled with every kick. He turned around and waved.
âWhy donât you have a seat, Tyler?â Miss Calli said. She sat on the edge of the desk at the front of the room, one slender leg crossed over the other, foot bouncing playfully. Behind her stood the girls. There were the three Tyler remembered from last time: the slim, busty girl in blue. Ella. Sheâd treated him like a puppy dog. Humiliating, but the least offensive of the bunch, by far.
Then there was the chick in the daffodil-yellow dress. Julie, maybe? Hot as hell, but sheâd not bothered concealing her disgust at what heâd been coerced into doing. Sheâd looked at him like something to be scraped off the bottom of her shoe.Â
And the girl in the red dress. A fitting color for a villain. Her name was crystal clear in his memory: Amy. Sheâd thought the whole thing was a riot, tears streaming down her face as heâd fouled himself in front of them.Â
But they werenât the only ones. There were eight college-aged girls in total, each in a different-colored dress.Â
Tyler put his back to the door and crossed his arms.Â
Miss Calli turned around. âSee what a big tough guy Ty-ty is, ladies? Such a big, stwong man.âÂ
The girls all laughed.Â
Tyler scowled, uncrossing his arms and letting them dangle at his side for a moment before crossing them again.Â
Miss Calli folded her hands in her lap. âWell, boys, can someone tell me why weâre all here today?âÂ
Jerry-Jeffy swung his hand around in the air. âMe! Me! Miss Calli! Here!âÂ
âYes, Jeffy?âÂ
âIâm here cuz I woked up in my crib and then I got changed and then I walked and then I was here.âÂ
Tyler rolled his eyes.Â
Got a genius on our hands.Â
One of the girls in the back snickered. Miss Calli smiled. âThank you, Jeffy. Thatâs not exactly what I want to focus on today. Every boy here has a PeePal Pal. Isnât that exciting?âÂ
Jeffy clapped his hands.Â
âCan you tell me about your PeePee Pal?â Miss Calli asked. âWhat kind of creature is your Pal, Jeffy?âÂ
Jeffy rolled over onto his back and started to tug at his diaper.Â
âNo no,â Miss Calli chided. âRemember, boys should never, ever open their diapers. If youâve forgotten your Pal, why donât you come ask one of these lovely ladies to help you?âÂ
Jeffy leapt up and practically sprinted to the front of the room. He planted his hands on his hips, legs spread wide, his gaze darting from one girl to the next.Â
A tall woman with a braid draped over the shoulder of her forest-green dress stepped forward. She hooked a finger in the top of Jeffyâs diaper and peered inside. She giggled. Like a dam breaking, all of the other girls stepped forward, crowding around.
Jeffy wore a big grin on his face.
Unbelievable.Â
âLadies?â Miss Calli asked.Â
âItâs a cuddly koala,â the girl in the green dress said.Â
âA newborn koala, based on the size of it,â Amy added.Â
They all laughed.
Miss Calli chuckled along with them. She turned back to the boys. âAnd do you all have koala PeePee Pals?âÂ
The boys shook their heads.Â
âMineâs a ja-waff,â one said.Â
âI have a goose,â another said. He blushed. âCuz Miss Ledi says Iâm a silly little goose.âÂ
âThatâs right,â Miss Calli said. âYou all have a different pal. Special, each and every one. Just. Like. You.â She turned and booped Jeffy on the nose.Â
He giggled.Â
âBut thereâs one thing you all have in common. Do you know what that is? Iâll give you a hint. It has to do with your life before you got here. Before you met your PeePee Pal. Itâs why you got your special PeePee Pal in the first place.âÂ
No one said anything. Not even motormouth Jeffy.
âWere you always nice to ladies before you came here?â Miss Calli asked. âHmmm?âÂ
âYes!â Jeffy said.Â
Miss Calli winced. âOh, sweetie. Iâm just afraid thatâs simply not true. Your aunty told me about that girl at your work you kept asking out. And about that icky gym sock she found under your bed.â
A girl in teal opened her mouth and made a gagging sound. Several of the others snickered.Â
Jeffyâs brow furrowed, and he looked around the room, puzzled.
Miss Calli turned suddenly toward Tyler. âWhat about you, Ty-Ty? Were you always nice to ladies? Did you show them the respect they deserve?âÂ
Tyler met her stare and kept his mouth shut.Â
âBet he had a crusty sock or two,â one of the girls said.
Tyler whipped around. âBetter believe if I did, itâd have a picture of your mom on it.â
Gasps.Â
Tyler didnât even bother suppressing his smile.Â
âSee, boys? See how Ty-Ty acts out?â Miss Calli jabbed a finger at him. âYou disrespected them. You disappointed them.â
âBS,â Tyler snapped. âI never disappointed any woman.âÂ
All eyes in the room turned to him. One of the dolts on the floor gasped.Â
Miss Calliâs smug smile cooled. She swept her gaze over all of the boys. âLucky for you, youâre going to get a chance to prove it. All of you. Go ahead and show one of these lovely ladies how sweet, and sensitive, and cuddly you can be. Show them how your pal will make sure you never disappoint them again.âÂ
The only sound was the faint rustling of diapers as the boys shifted and wiggled, looking at each other. At Miss Calli. Â
âGo on now,â Miss Calli said. âDonât be shy, boys. Pretend youâre asking one of these ladies out on a date.âÂ
Two boys jumped up, big, goofy grins on their faces.Â
âBut,â Miss Calli said. âAn appropriate date. The kind of date a soft, sweet diaperboy goes on. Not an icky, stressful, grown-up date. Maybe the zoo? Or to watch the newest Disney movie?â
Diaperboys stood up and shuffled to the front of the room.Â
Tyler watched as they stared at their feet and twisted their hands around. He listened as they stammered their way through silly questions.
âCan I touch your hair?âÂ
âThatâs a pretty dress. I wanna pretty dress.âÂ
âWan-ta meet ma teddy? Hisâs nameâs Hanky.âÂ
Jeffy was talking to the girl in the blue dress. Ella. Even though she was only a couple of inches taller than he, sheâd bent over, hands on her thighs, nodding along to everything he said. She smiled. Beamed, really. Then took him by the hand to the Cozy Corner. They settled onto the floor and pulled out a box of blocks.Â
Good for you, Jeffy. Hope you enjoy your hot âdate.â
One by one, they paired off, making their way to the Cozy Corner.Â
Then it was just Tyler, back against the wall, and the girl in the red dress. Amy. She sneered at him. âNever disappointed a woman because you never approached one, eh? Not sure that counts.âÂ
Heat spiked in his chest. His hands curled into fists. He crossed the room in three long strides. âThis little charade? This game? Itâs all rigged. Give me an hour outside of here, and Iâll have you screaming my name.âÂ
A smirk spread across the pretty girlâs face. âAww, sounds like someoneâs pal is making hims a bit fwustwated. Why donât we cuddle up on the bean bag and you can tell me all about your big feewings?âÂ
âI donât want to cuddle,â Tyler snapped.
âThatâs too bad,â she said. She leaned close. Close enough her perfume cut through the smell of baby powder and pee. Close enough her warm breath prickled his skin. Close enough he found himself leaning in, craving the feeling of her pressed against him. âBecause cuddles is all any woman is ever going to want from you.â
âBullshit,â he hissed.Â
âTalking about your icky diaper again?â she asked. âNot sure you can blame that stink on a bull. Why donât you try again? Show me this world-class charm you insist you have, Ty-Ty.â She looked over at the Cozy Corner. âBecause right now, it seems like youâre the only one here who canât get the girl.â
âLike I said, the game is rigged. You wanna see what Iâm like? See what itâs like to be with me? Let me out of here. Or ask one of the many, many women Iâve bedded how unforgettable it was.âÂ
âLike Lindsey Condant?â Amy asked. âOr Melissa, that intern you hired? Or how about we go back to college? Lots of drunk, sloppy âsatisfying womenâ in that period.â She turned to Miss Calli. âWho was that one woman from senior year? She had the story about him squirting on her shirt before she could even get it off? Heather, was it?âÂ
âHannah,â Miss Calli responded.Â
Tylerâs mouth went dry. âIâŚâ he cleared his throat. âWhatever. You got some names. Big deal.âÂ
A grin spread across Amyâs face. The mirth didnât reach her eyes. âWe have more than names, Ty-Ty. A lot more.â She shrugged, tone suddenly casual. âBut we donât have to worry about any of that. Ask me nicely to take you over to the Cozy Corner, and we can forget all about disappointing old Tyler and focus on sweet, soft Ty-Ty.âÂ
âYouâve got nothing,â he spat. He barely stifled the âbitchâ he desperately wanted to tack on to the end of the sentence.Â
 Amy sighed. âMiss Calli?âÂ
âOne step ahead of you,â Miss Calli said.Â
It was then that Tyler noticed a projection screen had been lowered over the whiteboard. The white background went black for a second, and then a familiar face appeared. A few years older than heâd last seen her, but instantly recognizable. Melissa, the business admin major theyâd hired as an intern in the early days of the firm. Â
A female voice off-screen: âSo tell me about your sexual experiences with Tyler.âÂ
Melissa snorted. âNot much to tell. He was charming. At first. I think it was the idea of this powerful, older man that drew me in. I probably shouldâve said no when he asked me to dinner, butâŚâ She shrugged.
âYou said thereâs not much to tell--things didnât go on long?â the woman off-camera asked.Â
Melissa sighed. âNo. It dragged on for months. By the end, I just feltâŚbad for him. He seemed so clueless. SoâŚun-self-aware, if that makes sense? Heâd make it all of five minutes, then brag about it like he was godâs gift to women. I started carrying a vibrator in my purse so I could take care of myself after he left.âÂ
Miss Calli froze the video and turned to Tyler, eyebrows raised.Â
âWhatever,â he croaked. âYou probably paid her.âÂ
Amy squeezed his arm. âOh, sweetie. You know thatâs not true. You saw it in her eyes. Besides, they couldnât pay all of those women.â
Tyler shook his head slowly. âBull. Shit.âÂ
Miss Calli sighed. âA potty mouth and a slow learner.â She held up the remote, and the video skipped to a different face. Hannah Martell. Senior year of college. Heâd shot all over her jeans in the backseat of his Beamer. But itâd been her fault for teasing him so long. If she hadnât dragged her feet, that wouldnât have happened.Â
âCan he hear me?â Hannah said to the camera. âAnd you said heâs wearing diapers now? Did I hear that right?â
A female voice said something off-stage. Something he couldnât make out.
She laughed. âNo kidding! What did you call it? A PeePee Pal? Hilarious. And how fitting. Let me tell you about--âÂ
âStop!â Tyler shouted. âShut it off.âÂ
The video paused.Â
âIs there something youâd like to say, Ty-Ty?â Miss Calli asked.Â
âSo what? This proves nothing. No one has anything good to say about exes. Old flings.âÂ
Amyâs smile grew.
Tyler felt the jaws of the trap--the trap heâd set for himself--close around him.Â
âOh, but itâs not just exes,â Amy said. âMonica, your wife? She sent you here, Tyler. She insisted on the diapers. The PeePee Pal. All of it. She sent a video along, too, if you want to see itâŚâÂ
Tylerâs shoulders slumped. He suddenly felt tired. So, so tired.Â
She patted his cheek and made a pouty face. âAww, sweetie. Donât be sad. You donât ever have to worry about trying to impress a woman ever again. Not with that silly little thing between your legs, at least. Isnât that wonderful? No more disappointment. Just snuggles and story times and soft diapers forever and ever and ever.â
The easiest way to read the preceding chapters is on Ream. The entire story so far is available for free to followers.
You'll find tons of other hot diaper stories on Ream, too. Like Potty Retraining:
Erin is fed up with her husband's diaper addiction. His soggy pants keep coming between them in the bedroom. But when she challenges him to potty retraining, neither of them have any idea the wet and messy adventures they are in for.
Erin enlists her friend Kayla to help tease and torment poor, diaper-dependent Joshua into giving up and admitting he'll never escape his diapers. But he's not giving in that easily. With his pride and his love life on the line, he'll suffer humiliations public and private in his quest to prove that he can be a big boy.
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âHey there, sweetness,â Mommy said when I walked into her new bedroom. âHowâre youâŚâ She trailed off. I never was very good at hiding my feelings. Not that my red, tear-streaked cheeks left much room for interpretation. She set the box she was holding down on the bed and walked over to hug me.Â
âOoooww!â I said. âCareful.âÂ
âOh, sweetie,â she said, pulling her hand off my backside. She stepped back and looked at me. âIs it bad?âÂ
I nodded. I felt my lip quiver. Tears threatened to pour out. Again. I choked them back. Once they started, I wasnât sure Iâd be able to stop.Â
Heâd rained swats down on me longer than I expected. Far longer. Mommy tapered off when she spanked me, easing up as she went. Unless she was really mad like the time I broke her brand-new laptop jumping on the couch with Tim. But the more he hit me the harder the swats got. Like he needed to build up momentum. Or like he wanted to see tears. My whole backside, from the top of my cheeks down to my upper thighs, was a pulsing inferno.Â
âI hate him,â I said. It just slipped out, surprising even me.
Her frown grew. âYou donât mean that. I know it stung, but sometimes little boys need correction. And screaming isnât okay.â
âI didnât scream.â
âWhy donât we cuddle, huh?â She grabbed a couple of pillows and stacked them up against the headboard, then leaned against them and patted her lap.Â
I wanted closeness with her more than anything right now. Sheâd always been able to make me feel better in a way no one else could. Safe and protected and cared for.Â
âYou didnât stand up for me,â I said quietly.Â
âWhat do you mean?âÂ
âGwen was being a monster. She told me I couldnât have my LEGOS in the room. And she was faking with the crying fit. Trying to get sympathy. And thenâŚhim.â I reflexively touched my tender butt.
âCâmere.â Mommy patted her lap again. âWeâll talk about it.âÂ
I shook my head.Â
âMister,â she warned, âI wasnât asking.âÂ
I sighed and shuffled over. I laid down on my side next to her, keeping my butt from making contact with the bed, and rested my head on her lap. She draped her arm over me.Â
âI know this a lot for you,â she said. âA lot of changes all at once. A new house and neighborhood. A new sister and daddy. AââÂ
âSheâs not my sister, and he is not my daddy.,â I snapped. âAnd they never will be. I want to go home. I want to go back to how things were.â
âOkay,â she said soothingly. She put her hand on my back and started rubbing. âWe donât have to worry about all of that right now.âÂ
âI want to go back to our house,â I said. âWe can take it off the market. You can stillâŚsee him if you want to, I guess.âÂ
She chuckled. âYou guess, huh? Since when do you make the rules? Remember, you gave that up when you left your job. When sogging your diapies became your full-time responsibility. Boys who piddle in their pants and donât have adult responsibilities donât make adult decisions. Isnât that what we agreed?âÂ
âI do chores and stuff, too,â I said indignantly.
âOf course you do. And weâre gonna figure out what those look like here tomorrow. But that doesnât change the fact that you need to focus on being my adorable baby boy right now. Youâre really, really good at that. The best, in fact.âÂ
I turned away from her and laid my head back down. This was one of Mommyâs comforters. One of our old comforters. A patchwork design weâd bought on a long weekend in Amish country before we were married but after weâd moved in together. It already smelled like him. Like his aftershave or deodorant or whatever. Not bad, but like a man. And not like her. Would Mommy start smelling like him now that we lived together? Her clothes? Her skin? Somehow, that seemed worse than getting spanked. Or having to share a room with that brat. We couldnât stay here. I couldnât make Mommy break up with him, but if we could move back to our own house, things would be okay again.Â
âThis is for the best,â she said. âFor both of us. Promise.â
âWere youâŚâ I took a deep breath. I didnât want to hurt her feelings. Sheâd done so much to take care of us.
âOut with it,â she said.Â
âWere you having trouble, like, you know?âÂ
âKeeping you in a dry diaper?â She rolled her eyes dramatically. âYou have no idea.âÂ
âIâm being serious. Was money aâŚthing?âÂ
She knit her brow, then let out a long, slow exhale. âThings have been difficult lately. The cost of living has gone up so much, and my salary hasâŚI donât want you to worry about all of that. And itâs not an issue now that weâre here with David. Heâs going to take care of us. And weâre gonna take care of him, too.âÂ
âWe can figure it out. Figure a way to make it work. Take care of ourselves.âÂ
âHey, I said we donât need to worry about all of that, mister. You focus on exploring your new house and doing your chores and becoming buddies with your newâwith Gwen, âk?â
I took a deep breath. Gwen was right about one thing: I had no idea about our finances. But I did know Mommy had been working more and more late nights. Sheâd had less time, and lately, less patience. I could at least try to make this work for her. But I wasnât going to just roll over and let that brat ruin my life, either. âI want my LEGOS in my room,â I said finally.Â
âIâm sure we can work something out. Itâs a big house. Lots of space. Have you seen the backyard? That sandbox?âÂ
âYou said itâs my room, too,â I said. âI want my toys in my room.âÂ
She paused her rubbing for a half-second, then continued. âAlrighty, if itâs that important to you, Iâll talk to David.âÂ
âTalk to him about what?â I blurted out. Why couldnât she just decide? She was the boss in our household. No question about it. That reminded me of something else. Something sheâd said earlier that had been nagging at me. Before she responded, I asked, âWhat was your relationship with Jake like? He yelled at you?âÂ
She paused her backrub again. This time she didnât start right up. She sighed. âNot good. He was manipulative and mean. Not at first, but as time went on, it got worse. Weâve talked about all that.âÂ
âThen why did you stay together?âÂ
âRian? What does this have to do withââÂ
âIâm just curious,â I said. âThatâs all.â
She sighed. âOkay. Well, I donât think now is the best time get into it. Letâs focus on the here and now. On us. On the future, you know?âÂ
âDid heâŚwhat was your relationship like, though?â It wasnât what I wanted to ask her. Not exactly. But I was afraid. Afraid to upset her, but more afraid of the answer she might give.Â
Were you his sub? His babygirl? Are you going to be Davidâs babygirl?
She sighed. âIâm notâŚsoâŚâÂ
I tensed up.Â
âThey broke a box of your china,â David said. He stomped into the room. âAnd one of the boxes was full of ants and they didnât notice. Now weâre infested with them. Disgusting.â
Disgusting? That seemed like an overreaction, but clearly he liked everything in his life just so and was used to getting his way. A spoiled bratt, basically, but apparently we only used that term for those of us in diapers.
âThatâs awful,â Mommy said. âIâll get a cleaner. We can set some traps out, andââ
âItâs fine. Iâll handle it. Iâll get them to handle it.â He shook his head. âWhat would Cristalli say if he saw my house was infested with bugs?âÂ
Mommy slid out from underneath me and went over to him. She wrapped him in a hug. It was different than the hug sheâd given me in a way I couldnât quite define. More like he was hugging her, even if sheâd initiated it. I looked away, feeling her absence and the stinging, surging heat on my butt at once.Â
âAre you sure you donât want me to do it?â Mommy asked.Â
âIâm sure,â David said. He stared off into the distance.Â
âThen why donât I take care of bath time,â Mommy said. âThatâs every Saturday night, right?â
David sighed. Gwen will balk. Not that she doesnât like you, itâs justââÂ
âThatâs usually a special time for the two of you,â Mommy said. âI get it. Tubbies are special for us, too. But I bet it would be a good bonding opportunity for the two of us. Get things off on a better foot, you know?âÂ
âHhhhhmm,â David said.Â
âRian needs a bath too. Heâs all sweaty. And he smells like pee.âÂ
âHey!â I said. They were probably right, but I didnât like them talking about me as if I wasnât there.Â
âNo kidding. Nearly knocked me over when I pulled down his diaper.â David chuckled. âGwen canât be much better. Hard to avoid in this hot weather.â
âWell, if we donât want our home smelling like a nursery with two little soggy bunbuns running around it sounds like round of baths is in order.âÂ
He seemed to relax. âThatâd be great, hon. Thanks. Iâm gonna go babysit these clowns before they put the stand mixer in the sauna.âÂ
Mommy got up on her tiptoes and kissed him on the lips. âLucky for us, youâre a fantastic babysitter.âÂ
His hand reached down and squeezed her butt, pulling her close to him. âYou know it.âÂ
She giggled. A special kind of giddy giggle I hadnât heard inâŚI didnât know how long. Since the first year or two of our marriage? On our honeymoon? Not the same giggle as when we had tickle fights. Or wiped out sledding down Baxterâs Hill. Or painted each otherâs faces. I liked that silly giggle, but sometimes I missed the giddy one, too. Â
âBefore you put them in the bath, letâs take care of that other thing,â David said.Â
âOh. Yeah. Of course.â She glanced at me.Â
âYou havenât told him, have you?âÂ
âTold me what?â I asked.
Mommy winced. âWeâve just been busy with packing, and there are all of these changes and he struggles withâŚâÂ
âAlright, well, Iâll handle it,â David said.Â
I slid off the bed and stood up, looking back and forth between the two of them. âWhat are you talking about?âÂ
David opened a drawer in the nightstand and withdrew a small, black box. He opened it up and set the top aside. I couldnât quite see inside of it. David stared me down. âI think youâre learning that I believe in boundaries. Clearly established and consistently enforced. So everyone understands their role. Their place in the household. And in this household we have one diaperboy and one man. Do you understand?âÂ
I shrugged, not wanting to talk about this. âI mean. I guess.âÂ
He shook his head. âThatâs not going to cut it.â He walked over, box in hand, and stood in front of me. I looked at the ground.
âLook at me. Rian?â He put a finger under my chin and directed my eyes up toward his. âThis isnât punishment. Youâre not in trouble. This is for your own good. I need you to understand that. But even if you canât understand it, you will accept it. You might still have your boy bits between your legs, but they arenât for sex anymore. Those days are long in the past.âÂ
I glanced over at Mommy. She sat on the bed watching all of this with an expression I couldnât quite interpret.  Â
David gripped my chin and directed my focus back to him. âLook at me when Iâm talking to you. Iâm taking care of your Mommyâs grownup needs now. Youâre not her man anymore, youâre her baby boy. Do you understand that? So the only thing you need that tiny nub between your legs for is soaking your diapers.âÂ
I tried to twist away, but he held my chin tight. âI have something to help you remember your place in our little family. Something to make sure you donât get any silly ideas about being a big man ever again.â He released my chin and held the box in front of my face. On a white satin cushion sat a baby-blue chastity cage.
One of my recent stories on Ream is Life Within the Lines:
"On the first day of Public Speaking 201, Nolan Doener just wants to pass as normal: hide the elastic-waist jeans, keep the crinkle quiet, survive a three-minute 'what I did this summer' speech, and start fresh. Then his lie lands with a thud. "
The next chapter of The Regression Center is available for FREE to followers on Ream right now. It's a far easier way to read the entire story so far than on Tumblr.
If you don't feel like visiting Ream and don't mind waiting, the chapter will be published here this weekend, too.
Hey there!
I have a question. since another great story has come to a close with
Baptized in Baby Powder: Chapter 10. When can we expect new chapters of the regression center. I really want to know how it continues :<.
Kind regards!
Happy to hear folks are still excited to read The Regression Center. I'm going to work on the next chapter this coming week, so you'll get an update on Tyler's descent into babyhood soon...
Rian's New Sister - Ch. 3 - The Princessâs Court
Note: This story features consenting adult characters and is intended for a mature, 18+ audience only.
In 7th grade, I tried out for the baseball team. I was well past the age when most kids tried out for the first time. If you were at all interested in playingâor had parents who pushed you into sportsâyouâd have made it on a team long before then, even if you sat on the bench most of the time. I had only a vague understanding of the rules and couldnât have named a single professional team or player if my life depended on it. Andrew, my stepfather, didnât approve. Sports were a distraction from academics. Or so he said.
Then, I saw The Sandlot late one night on USA, and I put my name on the signup list the next day. I didnât care about baseball itself; it was the group of rough-and-tumble friends all hanging out and having adventures together. That life was so different than my isolated experience in school and increasingly strict, sheltered home life that I couldnât not try out.Â
And thatâs how I found myself on second base on day one of tryouts, watching what I later learned was called a âpop flyâ plummet towards my face like an asteroid. I held the glove up like Coach Nelson had shown me to, but I knewâI knewâthat itâd miss and smash my face. Still, I couldnât look away. Couldnât move. I just watched the ball grow larger until it cratered into my face like a meteor, breaking my nose and ending my 45-minute career as a baseball player with a trip to the school nurse and I round of âI told you sosâ from Andrew.Â
Gwen screaming was like that. It didnât just happen. She wound up for what seemed more like minutes than seconds, sucking in lungfuls of air, face turning red, brow knit, fists clenched at her waist, then she let loose. She howled like some demon-possessed person from a horror movie, the sound cutting into my eardrums worse than any jackhammer or airhorn.  Â
âSorry!â I said. âIâm sorry!â I wasnât really sorry. Not even a little. Sheâd been a jerk and pushed and pushed and pushed. But I needed to make this stop. The two workers looked at each other. The older of the two, a guy with a handlebar mustache, said, âYou okay, uh, lady?â
She glared at him and screamed even louder as if she were pissed heâd dare ask. And thatâs when I realized that this was all a performance. Sure, she was annoyed with me. Maybe even angry. But she was putting on a show.Â
Mommy burst into the room first. She had a clothes hanger in one hand and a dress draped over her shoulder. Thank god. I could explain to her what happened. Sheâd take my side. See that I hadnât done anything but stand up for myself. âWhat happened? Rian?âÂ
âNothing!â I said, having to shout to be heard over the wailing. âWe were just talking and then...âI gestured at the scene playing out in front of us. Â
She looked at me, eyes wide, then shook her head in disbelief.
Gwen gulped in air for the next cry and then let loose again.
Mommy put her hands up as if she meant to hug her or touch or something, thought better of it, then dropped them to her sides. âGwen, is thereâŚ?âÂ
David arrived a moment later. He crossed the room in two strides, nearly hip-checking me as he passed. âJellybean? Whatâs the matter?â He glared at me. âDid someone hurt you?â Â
âI didnât do anything! I swear!âÂ
âHe screamed at me and told me to shut up,â Gwen said. Her lip quivered. âAnd he used a naughty word.â
Was this all a show or was she really that upset? I started to doubt my earlier assessment. If this was a show, she was a fantastic actor. âI didnât scream,â I mumbled. That was true. It was more of a shout. And not nearly as loud as her tantrum, in any case.Â
âRian,â Mommy chided, âyou know better than that. We donât scream at people. Ever. Especially not your new sister.âÂ
I felt like sheâd hit me. She was taking Gwenâs side in this? And âsisterâ? Gross. What was that about? She wasnât my sister; she was the roommate theyâd foisted on me.
I cleared my throat. âBut she told meâŚâ Everyone turned toward me. Mommyâs eyes wide. Davidâs narrowed to slits. Gwenâs red and puffy. I trailed off. Nothing I could say would explain this away. Theyâd all made up their minds that I was the bad guy here. Even Mommy. âNevermind.â
David wrapped Gwen in a hug. âItâll be okay. Iâm sure Rian is sorry. Isnât he?âÂ
Gwen peeked around her daddyâs arms, her red, swollen eyes glinting. Was that smug satisfaction or was I imagining things? Mommy joined the hug, wrapping her arms around the two of them, then looked over her shoulder at me, eyebrows raised. âIâm sure he didnât mean it.â
âSorry,â I said quietly. âFor yelling.âÂ
Not screaming.Â
âI was scared,â Gwen said, voice muffled by the two bodies holding her close. âI thoughtâŚI dunno.âÂ
âYou donât have to explain,â Mommy said. âNo one likes being yelled at, do they? But I think anger hits little girls especially hard. When my oldâŚpartner, well, when he was upset heâd shout sometimes and it hurt so much, but it also made me scared about what else he might do.âÂ
The way she hesitated over âpartnerâ was odd. Like sheâd almost said something else. Weâd never talked much about Jake if thatâs who she meant. Sheâd said he was an asshole and a part of her life sheâd rather leave in the past, and I accepted that. Everyone had a bad ex or two. I certainly did. âIâm sorry,â I said again. âI was just upset about the LEGOs andâŚwhatever.âÂ
The group hug ended. Finally. Maybe we could go back to unpacking now.Â
âIâm happy to hear you say youâre sorry,â David said.Â
âUh-huh.â I nodded vigorously, ready to move on. Â
âBut,â he continued, raising a finger, âthat doesnât mean there arenât consequences for your actions. I donât know how Amara handle things like this in your old home. But here in my house, we punish bad behavior.âÂ
My stomach twisted into a knot.Â
Mommy nodded solemnly. âI will take care of it.âÂ
David shook his head. âKeep unpacking. Rian and I will settle this between the two of us. Important to get things off on the right foot. Establish some boundaries and expectations.âÂ
Mommy looked at me, concern in her eyes. I shook my head slightly, willing her to refuse. To insist that sheâd take care of it. Anything would be better than him spanking me. She turned her gaze to him and smiled faintly. âOkay.âÂ
âBut, butââ I stammered.Â
She gave me a side hug. âYou can come help me unpack when youâre done. We can talk about your blocks then, okay?âÂ
I shook my head. âNo. IâŚâÂ
But she was already leaving. Leaving me here alone. With them. With him.Â
David put a hand on my back. âCome on. Best get this over with.âÂ
***
David sat on a stool in the middle of the living room, hands resting on his thighs. âDo you know why Iâm punishing you?âÂ
âHuh?â Two minutes ago, weâd been upstairs, hashing it all out. Did he think Iâd forgotten or that I was so incredibly dense I didnât understand why everyone was pissed?Â
âDo you know why Iâm punishing you?â he repeated. âItâs important you know that itâs not because Iâm angry.âÂ
It occurred to me that I didnât need to stand here and listen to him talk down to me like I was a moron. I could walk away. Hell, I could walk out the front door if I wanted to. The thought was jarring: I hadnât experienced this level of self-doubt in years. Sure, sometimes Iâd wonder if I was making a big mistake. Like when my high school pal Maro reached out and invited me on a week-long camping trip in the Poconos and I had to turn him down. How would I explain the diapers, which I legitimately needed at that point, to him and the other guys? Or when I saw other people moving forward and starting families. When we were out at a restaurant or the park or a movie and saw a couple on a date and I remembered what that was like. What it was like to have Mommy on my arm, looking at me with those smiling eyes. What it was like to take her home afterward and fuck half the night. Â
âRian, look at me,â David said. He put an index finger under my chin and brought my eyes to his. âYou like this life with your mommy, right? You get to be free, in a sense. And you get to be yourself.âÂ
It was like heâd read my mind. Realized Iâd been having doubts. Real, significant doubts about this whole arrangement.Â
I nodded.
âThatâs what I thought. But you canât just pick and choose, you know. If you want to live as a baby boy, then you need to accept guidance and correction along with the toys and the bathtimes and the fun stuff.âÂ
âOkay.â
âAmaraâyour mommyâis an incredible woman. Sheâs so strong. She does so much for other people. And sheâs smart as hell, too.âÂ
âI know that,â I said defensively. âSheâs my wife.â I hadnât called her that in a while, but it was true. She was my wife, not his.
He raised an eyebrow. âIs that really the word that best describes her role in your life? âWife?ââ
I shrugged.
He sighed. âSheâs been stretched thin for a long time,â he continued. âToo busy trying to keep you both afloat to give you everything you need. Give you the correction you need. To remind you where the boundaries are and punish you when youâve crossed them.âÂ
That wasnât true. At least, I didnât think it was. Sure, I rarely got spanked anymore, but that was just because I didnât break the rules.Â
âItâs okay if you donât understand me yet. You will.â He patted his lap. âLie down.âÂ
I sucked in a deep breath. When Mommy spanked me, I knew what to expect. How hard sheâd hit. How many swats. This would be different. I laid my chest against his firm thighs. He smelled like aftershaveânot at all like Mommyâs lavender body lotion. Even when she spanked me, the smell of her was comforting. And I knew sheâd hold me afterwards and rub my back.
He put a hand on the front of my diaper and pulled free one of the tapes. The diaper loosened and he tugged down the rear waistband so my cheeks were exposed to the air.Â
âIâm sorry,â I said. âCan weââ
His bare hand hit without warning.Â
SMACK!Â
I flinched, my feet instinctively pushing against the floor to move out of the way. He readjusted me, pulling me forward so only my toes connected with the floor. âDonât move or this will only be worse,â he said.Â
SMACK!Â
SMACK!
SMACK!
SMACK!
Each swat seemed harder than the last. I closed my eyes and balled my fists, and imagined myself in my happy place. Itâd be over soon. It had to be. Didnât it?
Some pamperbutts learn things the hard way, don't they? Read Johnny's story on Ream:
"Saturday mornings used to mean golf. Now they mean cartoons, diapers, and a blanket he isnât allowed to leave. Visiting friends whoâve fully embraced a mommy/baby lifestyle, Johnny tells himself this is temporary: just roleplay, just for Adele, just until things calm down. But rules have a way of multiplying, especially when everyone else seems comfortable enforcing them. As a small rebellion spirals into public discipline, Johnny is forced to confront what this new structure really offers: humiliation, certainty, and a strange kind of peace. Caught between the man he was and the boy everyone else already sees, he must decide whether to keep fighting or finally let go."
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Note: This story features consenting adult characters and is intended for a mature, 18+ audience only.
The driveway up to Davidâs houseâour new house, Mommy would correct meâwas long and winding. Longer than the street our house was on. Our old house. The drive snaked up a steep hill with sugar maples, oaks, white pines, and a smattering of boulders and ferns on either side. It all looked tidy and curated. Like someone trimmed the dead branches and raked the leaves. The scent of pine needles and fresh air drifted in through the vents. Which was fine, I guess. Some people really liked that. But I was going to miss the smell of tandoori chicken from Munaâs when the wind picked up, and the chlorine from Jim and Margaretâs pool next door, and even the diesel fumes from the odd truck that rumbled by.Â
After a few minutes, we rounded a bend, and the house came into view. The dark brown and gray building sat up on a rise, looking down on the valley below. I couldnât see too clearly with the house in the way, but the view must have been at least twenty miles. Maybe more. You could see a sliver of Merritsville below, and the city of Clarion beyond that. Somewhere in that city was home. Our real home.
David parked the car. âHere we are. Home sweet home.â Â
Iâd expected something big because David obviously had money. He drove a nice car. Two nice cars, actually. Sometimes he picked up Mommy in a silver Porsche Cayenne with spotless leather seats, and other times in an Audi that still had that new car smell, which is what he drove us in today. He was always talking about business deals, to Mommy and on the phone, though I didnât pay close attention to the details. Heâd get all excited and pace back and forth, or talk over the top of her at dinner, and Iâd tune out and play Castle Crashers on my Switch or shop for LEGO sets on my phone.
Still, the house surprised me. It wasnât so much that it was massiveâthough it wasâit was that it looked like it could be a Frank Lloyd Wright design. There was something about how the shape and colors just fit with the hill and the woods and the whole area that reminded me of Falling Water or Taliesin.Â
Mommy turned in her seat and squeezed my knee. âWhat do you think, baby?â Her eyes danced with excitement. She wanted me to like it. To be as elated as she was. âWe wonât be cramped in here, will we?â
âItâs nice,â I said. It wouldnât be cozy, either. And it wouldnât be just the two of us. Â
I looked around the front yard and driveway. We werenât the only ones here. A moving truck was parked out front, and a small army of burly, uniformed workers hauled boxes of our stuff to the front door, like a row of ants. Someone lifted my oak rocking horseâSir Percivalâout of the back of the truck. The worker said something to one of his colleagues, and they both laughed and shook their heads.Â
I slumped down into the seat.Â
âWhatâs the matter?â Mommy asked. âAre you leaking?âÂ
âHeâs not getting pee on the seat, is he?â David asked. âThatâs Spanish leather.âÂ
I shook my head.Â
She pursed her lips. âAlright. Give me five things.âÂ
I shrugged and looked out the window again.Â
âRight now, mister.âÂ
I ignored her.
She sighed. âOkay, well, if you canât give me five, then David will help out.â She turned to him. âWhen Rian is feeling anxious or sad, we like to come up with five things to be excited about together. I think heâs a bit anxious about the big move, so maybe you can help him come up with five things to be excited about?âÂ
âSure thing,â David said. âWhy donât you start unpacking your clothes. Iâll show Rian around his new home.âÂ
She beamed and pecked him on the cheek. âFantastic. See you soon, sweetstuff,â she said to me. Before I could tell her Iâd rather come with her to help unpack, she was out of the car and bounding up the slate steps two at a time toward the house, skirt swirling around her legs and hair streaming behind her.
âAlright, bud, letâs check things out, huh?â David asked. âImportant you get the lay of the land. Youâre going to love it.â
I climbed out of the car and followed him across the lawn, past fragrant, neatly manicured garden beds and weird, ornamental trees that looked like they couldâve been from an alien planet, to the back of the house. Or maybe it was the front. I couldnât tell. A big deck jutted from the house. The lawn was flat for a bit, then sloped steeply downward into the forest. I stopped and took it all in. Between the deck and the forest was a huge wooden playground set, more like the kind you saw at a public park than at someoneâs house. Even from here, I could smell the distinct odor of cedar baking in the blazing summer sun.
Next to the playground was a sandbox filled to the edges with dunes of golden sand and several massive, adult-sized ride-on construction vehicles. A stone pathway led from the playground area down to a pool area, and what looked like a jacuzzi. Tim would love this place. Iâd have to have him over for a playdate soon.
âHow many things does this count as right here? That get you to your full five?â David asked with a chuckle. âAt least a few, right?âÂ
I shrugged.
He pointed at the pool area. âCouple of rules about the pool. You can only use it if youâve already had a messy diaper that day. And swim diapers are a must. Not the disposable kind, either. The heavy-duty rubber ones. Iâll get you one if you donât have one already.âÂ
That seemed kinda silly. I never had messy accidents. I mean, everything came out in my diaper. I hadnât used a toilet in years. For anything. But messing wasnât an accident. I was never surprised to find a stinky pile in the seat of my diaper. Well, almost never. But it wasnât a hill I was going to die on. âOkay,â I said.
He pointed down the slope. âYou canât quite see it from here, but Gwenâs treehouse is just below the dip in the hill. Iâm sure sheâll show you that later. So what do you think?âÂ
I shrugged. âItâs cool.âÂ
âThatâs it? âItâs cool.ââÂ
âThe park by our houseââÂ
âYour old house,â David interjected.Â
âThe park by our old house,â I said, dragging out the âold,â âwas even bigger. And there were two slides. Weâd meet up there for playdates every Wednesday in the summer. Mommy would bring snacks, andââ
âThat was a public park. We went there together, remember? This is your own. Just for you and Gwen to enjoy whenever you want.âÂ
âOkay.âÂ
He frowned. âLetâs go see the rest of the house.â I followed him up onto the spacious deck and then into the house. He paused on the threshold. âAlright, we need to get you out of those shorts.âÂ
âWhat?âÂ
âHouse rules. Unless I say otherwise, your diaperâs gotta be exposed at all times when youâre home.âÂ
âWhy?â I asked.Â
He crossed his arms. âThatâs not the response I was looking for. This is my house, and you will follow the rules. Thatâs why.âÂ
And just like that, âour homeâ had become âhis house.âÂ
He stepped closer, unbuttoned my shorts, and pulled them down. I stepped out of them when they were around my sneakers. âThere you go,â he said. He put his large hand on the front of my diaper and squeezed it, mashing my parts uncomfortably.Â
âHey!âÂ
He stood up. âDiaper checks and changes happen whenever the grownups feel they should. Iâm pretty sure that was already a rule in your old house.âÂ
âThatâs not how you check a wet diaper, thatâsââÂ
âWhat did I just say?â He put a hand on my shoulder and spun me around, then pulled out the waistband. He followed it up with a firm pat on my butt.
Diaper checks and changes did happen at any time in our house. That was one of the first rules Mommy implemented. But she was the only one who checked my diaper. Or changed me. I was going to make sure it stayed that way.Â
âYouâre wet, but you can wait for a change,â he said.Â
âI know,â I almost replied. I was soggy. That tight, squishy feeling I loved. Like being wrapped in a warm beanbag chair. But I wasnât on the verge of leaking or anything. Not unless he squeezed me like that again. âSure,â I said.Â
He looked like he was going to say something, pursed his lips, then stepped through the sliding glass door. I followed him into the house. We walked through room after room as he pointed things out to me. Well, more like area after area. It was an open floor plan with high ceilings and lots of empty space. I almost shouted at one point to see how much it echoed. You could practically play a volleyball game in the living room area, though itâd probably be a bad idea, considering all the clay pots, weird woven basket things, and huge, modernist oil paintings. This would be like living in a museum. And not the fun, hands-on kind.Â
A weird art thing sat off in a corner. A waist-high pedestal with a cow skull on top. The skull was painted in red, white, and blue stripes. Ornamental vines wrapped up around the pedestal, and there was a plaque at the bottom. It looked so out of place. I walked closer to see what the plaque inscription said.
âDonât,â David said. There was an edge to his voice.Â
âI was just gonnaâŚâ I trailed off. That was fine. I could look later.Â
âLetâs keep going. Thereâs a lot more to see, and I need to get back to giving the movers directions. They keep putting kitchen stuff in the bathroom.âÂ
Our next stop was his home office. âOff limits at all times,â he said in a stern tone. Like I wanted to go in there anyway. Then there was his music room. I caught sight of several electric guitars in stands through a sliver in the doorway. Framed concert posters hung on the wall. Rolling Stones. Pink Floyd. Led Zeppelin. âYouâre only allowed in there when Iâm in there,â he said. I almost told him I liked classic rock and thought better of it.Â
In the living room, he noted that I couldnât sit on any of the cloth-backed furniture. âGwen likes lying on the floor when sheâs watching cartoons. Iâm sure you will, too.âÂ
My head was swimming with the rules and restrictions. They kept coming. This house was big, sure, but it wasnât a home if I couldnât, like, exist in it? Living in a museum was starting to sound niceâthis would be more like a prison.
We walked upstairs next, down a long hallway. At the end of the hallway, I saw an open door with a massive, four-poster bed inside. That must be his bedroom. The master bedroom. Which also made it Mommyâs room. The room they slept in together. Had sex in together. I pushed those uncomfortable thoughts aside. He pointed at a room to the right. âAnd this is your new room,â he said. âYouâre going to love it. Go ahead. Go on in.âÂ
I stepped inside. The space was huge. Easily double the size of my old room, with bright pink walls and purple curtains that hung over the floor-to-ceiling windows, but it was stuffed with crap. There was a big white crib with the name GWEN stenciled on the headboard and a big sticker of Belle from the Disney animated Beauty and the Beast above her name. No, not a stickerâa painting. A quality one, too. And that wasnât the only Beauty and the Beast thing in the room. The changing table was covered in stickers of all the characters from the movieâthe teapot, the candle, and all.Â
There was a corner full of toys, including a massive wooden dollhouse that looked like the castle from the movie, including a big golden ballroom.
Where was I going to put my LEGO sets? And my SNES? My posters?Â
Two guys in uniform were bent over a pile of wooden pieces that I realized were my crib. One turned and looked at me; he nudged his colleague, who turned and looked too. They both snickered.Â
I instinctively covered my diaper with my hands. Or tried to, at least. I had grown used to people seeing me in my diapers, but always friends who shared our lifestyle. Others in diapers and their caregivers. Plus a couple of other people in our life whoâd found out, like Mommyâs sister, Elisa. But never strangers. âMaybe I should come back later,â I said, backing out of the doorway.Â
David put his hand on his back and gently pushed me into the room. âNope. I have some things to take care of. Gwen will show you around your new room, right, Gwen?âÂ
I hadnât even noticed her at first. Though once I did, I wondered how Iâd missed her. She sat in one corner at a small desk with a mirror, a laptop open in front of her. She wore a vibrant yellow summer dress that poofed out at the waist. A petticoat, I think they called that? She snapped the laptop shut and turned around. She was cute. Pretty, even. All dolled up with makeup and straight blonde hair with a yellow bow on top. She wore pink and white saddle shoes. The perfect image of an adorable babygirl.Â
âDaddy!â she shouted.Â
âHeya, jellybean.âÂ
âI was just watching this video about the new ride they are adding in Disney World. Itâs going to openââÂ
âSorry. I gotta get back on top of this moving stuff. I canât wait to watch it with you later, okay?âÂ
She nodded, then her face fell as he walked out of the room. She turned to me, scowling like I was a bit of gunk on the bottom of her shoe.
I waved awkwardly.Â
She stood up slowly and smoothed nonexistent wrinkles from her dress. âWeâre going to have to find some other place for your LEGO sets.âÂ
âHuh?âÂ
She rolled her eyes and jerked her head at the pile of boxes off to one side. âYour LEGO sets? Boxes of little plastic blocks? This room is already going to be stuffed with your crib and horse andâŚall the other stuff.âÂ
âI play with my LEGOS every day.âÂ
âLEGO.â She said it slowly like I was hearing impaired. She walked over and stood right in front of me. She smelled like bubblegum. âNot âLEGOS.â And you can go downstairs to play with them. A little exercise never hurt anyone.âÂ
âUh, I donât think thereâs any place downstairs for me to set up. Seems like all the rooms areâŚI dunno. For other stuff?â
âBelieve it or not, Daddy and I had a whole life before you and Amara first arrived. We had rooms full of âother stuff.ââ She flashed air quotes. âBut Iâm sure you can squeeze your blocks in somewhere. Maybe in the laundry room? Colette wouldnât mind, I bet.â
âThe laundry room? Look, I didnât want to come here either. We were doing great at our old house. Our life was great. I didnât have to squeeze anything in there.âÂ
She raised an eyebrow. âReally? Because thatâs not what I heard. I heard your mommy could barely keep up with the bills. But it doesnât matter. Daddy decided to take you both in for some reason, so we will have to make it work.âÂ
âThatâs not true. Mommy has a great job.âÂ
âOh yeah? Like youâd have any idea. Look at your stained shirt. Greasy hair. And that sagging diaper is going to leak all over my floor.âÂ
I laughed in shock. Who did she think she was? She was in diapers too, I knew. And my hair and shirt were dirty because Iâd been helping clean up at our old house all morning. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the two workers turn around to watch the spectacle. I knew I should back off. Let it go. But I couldnât. âThis is a Crinkle Crusher. I pointed at the stylized T-Rex on the front of my diaper. Itâll holdââ I lowered my voice so the workers couldnât hear ââlike five heavy wettings.âÂ
She giggled and held a hand to her mouth. âFive heavy wettings? As if you arenât constantly dribbling like a leaky hose.â She held up her pinky finger, curled over, and made a couple of wet raspberries, twitching her finger when she did.Â
Pssstt!
Pssstt!
She shrugged. âRoyal Rumps are the only diapers worth wearing. You should throw that garbage in the bin and switch to a real diaper today. You can wear one of mine. If it fits.â She gave me an appraising look, pausing for a moment on my tummy.Â
âI wouldnât be caught dead in Royal Rumps! Such a stupid name. Like an actual toddler came up with it. And the tapes suck.â The tapes didnât suck, but the name sure was stupid.Â
Her eyes narrowed. âIâm going to tell Daddy you have to wear them.âÂ
âHeâs not in charge of me.â
âOh, no? If you donât do what he says, heâll take you over his knee and paddle you raw.â She shrugged, and a sly smile crept across her face. âCome to think of it, that sounds wonderful. Iâd love to see you wail like a little brat.â
âStop it.â I felt the anger building inside me.Â
She put her hands up to her eyes and twisted them around. âWah! Wah!âÂ
âJust stop it.âÂ
âI bet you get all red-faced when youâre spanked.âÂ
âStop. Talking.â
âProbably cry a lot and kick your feet around, huh?â She laughed.Â
âShut! Up!â I screamed. âJust shut your stupid fucking face!â
If you're enjoying this story, you might also like No Running, No Diving, No Dignity on Ream:
"Ethanâs plan was supposed to be simple: impress Chloe at the community pool and land a date before the square dance. Instead, a harsh lifeguard and a single bad choice turn all of that on its head. Itâs a long, hot summer ahead, and Ethanâs about to learn that some humiliations donât wash off."
Rian's New Sister - Ch. 1 - The Perfect Little Village
Note: This story features consenting adult characters and is intended for a mature, 18+ audience only.
Rian's New Sister is a complete, fifty-nine-chapter story on Ream. I'm going to release the first several chapters here on Tumblr. But if you want to read the whole story now, along with TONS of other stories, check out the All4theDips Ream.
Mommy was gonna be so frickinâ proud. Â
I clicked the final gray block into place on the castle wall and stepped back to admire the scene: the perfect, complete medieval village with castles and knights and wagons and a dragon. Just as Iâd imagined it as a kid. My eye caught the blank patch of green LEGO base on the sprawling table. Well, nearly complete. Iâd almost given up on finding the Kingâs Castle set, the only one remaining from the '80s and '90s sets Iâd grown up with.Â
âMommy,â I called out.Â
The house was silent but for the ticking of the clock downstairs.Â
âMommy!â I called again, louder this time. Then I remembered she was out. With him. At a new Italian restaurant or something like that. Or were they going to Rogers Park? I looked up at the clock. Either way, she should be back by now. She couldnât be spending the night at his house or she wouldâve sent Lisa over to babysit me. And more importantly, it was Saturday: we always watched a movie together on Saturday. I felt a flutter of anxiety. Had she forgotten?  Â
I heard footsteps on the stairs, then Mommy was standing in the doorway to my nursery, a glass of red wine in her hand. She was dressed up in a long black evening dress that sparkled a bit in the light. Her dark hair was up in an elaborate hairdo with a long pin stuck through it, and she wore bright red lipstick and strappy high heels. âHey, sweetstuff.âÂ
The tension dissipated. âI finished it!â I said, pointing at the newest addition to my little city.Â
âWill you look at that,â she said. âNice work.âÂ
She smiled, and I felt that warm glow in my chest.Â
âHave you come up with a name for it yet? For your little town, I mean.â
I shook my head. Iâd name it when it was complete. When I added the Kingâs Castle.
She walked across the room, her heels clicking on the wood floor, and stood next to me. She smelled like lavender perfume and alcohol. Like date night. âThis is the new one, right?â she asked, pointing at the castle Iâd just finished. Â
I nodded. âThis was the first set I ever got. For Christmas when I was six.âÂ
âLots of good memories, I bet.âÂ
I grabbed the two sides of the castle and opened it wide, displaying the interior rooms. âThe dungeon has a secret entrance right here. And you see this? Itâs the armory.â I pointed at the rack of swords and halberds on the wall of the armory. Iâd had to buy those separately, as they were missing from the set I found on eBay.
She reached down and squeezed the back of my diaper. âLooking a bit droopy there.âÂ
I shrugged. âIâm not leaking.âÂ
âFamous last words,â she said with a chuckle. Â
I surveyed the LEGO table and the row of coastline base pieces Iâd just added. âGonna start adding pirates now, I guess.âÂ
âStill no luck online with the Kingâs Castle?âÂ
I shook my head.Â
âMaybe we can try the flea market by Davidâs house this weekend. What do you think about that, David?âÂ
I startled. âHeâs here?âÂ
I heard the bathroom door open down the hall, and a moment later, David stepped into my room. He always reminded me of Ted Danson. Younger Danson, like when he was on Cheers. He even had the same smirky smile. He held a tumbler of something dark brown in one hand. The other hand was tucked behind his back. He was tall and lean. Strong, but not all bulgy like those guys that live at the gym. âA swimmerâs body,â Mommy called it. When I reminded her I was a good swimmer, sheâd called me her âseal pup.â I knew Iâd put on some weight over the last three years and worried that might be part of the reason she called me that, but I liked the nickname anyway. Seal pups were cute. Â
âHey, bud,â David said. âLooks like youâve had a fun evening.â Â
I turned to Mommy. âHeâs not staying, is he? You didnât say he was spending the night. I thought we were gonna watch Inside Out and have popcorn and Sour Patch.â Movie night was my favorite. We always had snacks and cuddled in Mommyâs bed. Sometimes I even spent the night in there with her, if I fell asleep during the movie. And tonight felt like an extra celebration, after finishing the castle.Â
âDonât be silly. I wouldnât miss out on movie night with my favorite baby boy,â she said.Â
I glared, still feeling annoyed that no one had told me heâd be coming over. Mommy gently pinched my chin and brought my gaze around to hers. Her light blue eyes stared into mine. âHey, remember your manners, okay?âÂ
Just a few feet behind me in the nursery was my spanking bench and row of paddles. I nodded. âHey,â I said to David.
Mommy smiled. âThereâs my good boy. Now, I think he has a little something for you.âÂ
For me? Heâd brought Mommy plenty of gifts. Especially when they first started spending time together a couple of years ago. Roses. A necklace. Boxes of clothes I never saw her wear, which made me wonder if they were for the bedroom. But heâd never gotten me anything, aside from a hot dog and ice cream at the Badgers game that one time. And tickets to the zoo. And the aquarium. And that remote control car last Christmas.Â
âIs it a teddy bear?â I asked warily. Everyone who knew about Mommy and me, about our special relationship, thought I needed a teddy bear. Mommy said that was the template they had to work withâlittle ones like teddy bears. And I did like teddy bears. And plenty of other stuffies. But I only needed so many. David should know better, though, right? He had his own little girl. And Mommy wouldâve told him I had plenty of bears.
David chuckled. âI saw that massive pile of stuffies last time I was here. Looks like youâre all set on the ursine front.âÂ
âLast time?â I didnât remember him coming into my roomâŚever.Â
âYour mommy was all tuckered out after a, uh, long night.â They both shared a glance, and he chuckled. âI knew she hadnât changed you when we got back from dinner, so I decided to make sure you werenât leaking while she rested.â
âWhat? I didnât know that!â Heâd come into my nursery and checked my diaper? What if it had needed to be changed? That was Mommyâs job and no one elseâs. Not even the other mommies at playgroup would change me. Had he touched my diaper? Stuck a finger in the leg hole like Mommy did sometimes?
âYou were a bit soggy, but nothing that couldnât wait until morning.â Â
âNo one else changes me,â I said. I glared at Mommy.
âYour babysitter, Lisa?â Mommy asked.Â
I shrugged. That was different. She was a babysitter. That was half her job.
âAnd Miss Meredith that time you had a blowout at the park? Or how about Miss Karoline when you slept over at Timâs house? OrââÂ
I blushed. âOkay, but, I didnât know he did it. You shouldâve told me first.âÂ
âWhat do I always say?â Mommy asked.
I looked at the floor.Â
âRian?â her tone had an edge to it. She rarely got angry with me. Not really angry, at least.
âLittle boys in diapers donât get to say who checks and changes their diapers,â I mumbled.Â
âThatâs right,â she said. âYouâre lucky to have a loving mommy. But weâre also lucky to have friends that support us. Friends like David.âÂ
I looked at him again. He stood patiently, the hint of a smile on his face. He wasnât my âfriend.â And Iâm not sure he counted as Mommyâs âfriend,â either. Not without something else tacked on to that word. But at least he hadnât actually changed me. Thatâd just be weird.
âSo, do you want your present, or should I give it to someone else?â he asked.Â
âIâd like it,â I said. âPlease,â I added a moment later.Â
He pulled his arm from behind his back and held out a LEGO set. Â
âWoah! Skullâs Eye Schooner!âÂ
He chuckled. âIndeed. Your mommy deserves the credit for telling me about it, though. Youâre a lucky lilâ fella.âÂ
âWhere did you find it? How?â It was nowhere near as rare as the Kingâs Castle, but still one of the harder sets to find. While looking for the Kingâs Castle, Iâd been watching for this one, too. I knew itâd be hard to find, so every time I pawed through musty old junk at yard sales and flea markets I kept an eye out for it, hoping Iâd see the telltale yellow box under a pile of tupperware or beneath a stack of flannel shirts.Â
âMy friend Chris owns a company that organizes estate sales. He put the word out, and sure enough, it popped up in Des Moines. This old guy had copies of almost every set LEGO ever put out, he said. Bit of a hoarder.â He held the box out, and I took it.Â
It was opened but in mint condition, which probably meant all the pieces were there. Anyone who took such good care of the box probably didnât lose pieces. I brought it over to the table and carefully opened it, admiring the bags of bricksâtaped closed with blue painterâs tapeâand minifigs. The assembly manual was as thick as my thumb, with page after page of glossy, full-color instructions. I flipped to the first page.
Mommy put a hand on my back. âMaybe donât put that together quite yet, okay? Why donât we save it until tomorrow? Or maybe afterâŚâ
âRight,â David said. âAfter might be best.âÂ
âAfter what? Itâs 878 pieces,â I said. I held up the manual, showing her how thick it was. âI need to get started or itâll never be done.â
âBud,â David said. He walked over to my other side and put a hand on my shoulder. âWe have some exciting news.âÂ
I shrugged his hand off and pointed at the bag of minifigures and weapons. âSee all these cannons? Some of them sit on little turntable things that slide around. Itâs frickinâ awesome.âÂ
âRian,â Mommy said, âdid you hear David? We have some exciting news.â
I reluctantly set the bag down and turned to face him. âAre we going back to the zoo? The monkeys were hiding last time, remember? Maybe this time theyâll be out.âÂ
âNo, not the zoo.âÂ
âOh.â I turned to look at the set. Maybe I could start working on it while he was talking.Â
âThere will be plenty more zoo trips together, I promise. But thatâs not what this is about.âÂ
A knot of anxiety formed in my stomach. I turned to Mommy. âWhatâs going on?âÂ
She smiled, but I could see the worry on her face. She squeezed my hand. âRian, David and I have decided that it would be best, if, umâŚâÂ
âWhat?â I asked. âJust say it.âÂ
âIâve decided that you and Amara are going to move in with Gwen and me,â David finished for her.Â
âMove in, likeâŚout of this house? What about my LEGOS? And all of my other stuff? I like this house.â Weâd bought it together, back when I was working. Almost our whole life together had been here.Â
âOh, sweetness, of course, we will move all of your stuff with us. David and Gwenâs home will be your home too, and you can make the space your own.âÂ
Daddy cleared his throat.Â
âYouâll be sharing a room at first,â Mommy added, âbut weâll get you settled in your own room soon enough.âÂ
I frowned. âI thought you liked sleeping in your own space and having the whole bed to stretch out and not get kicked. Or having the plastic cover on the mattress. Thatâs what you always say.âÂ
David chuckled. âSheâll be sleeping with me, bud. And I donât think weâll be needing a bedwetting cover on the mattress. You and Gwen will share a room. She has a big nursery. Iâm sure sheâll love the company.âÂ
I knew he was sleeping with Mommy, of course. Iâd reluctantly agreed to that years ago. Sheâd made it clear she had grownup needs I couldnât meet anymore. And I was okay with it. Mostly. Usually, I didnât have to think about it. But if we were all living in the same house, thatâd be different. Iâd have to see him touching her. Kissing her. Squeezing her butt, like that one time in the entryway when they didnât know I was watching.Â
And then there was Gwen. Iâd only met her once, but sheâd told me I had pudding on my shirt. That was the first thing sheâd said. Not even hello. She was right, there was a big glob of chocolate pudding on my Transformers shirt, but what was I supposed to do about it? And why did she care?
âI donât want to share a room,â I said. âI like my room. I like my stuff.âÂ
âI know you do,â Mommy said. âBut this will be best for everyone. David has a big house with lots of fun stuff. And I know you and Gwen are going to get along famously. Please just give it a chance, for me?âÂ
She had that look on her face. Eyes kinda wide. Lips pursed. Like she was worried Iâd say no or throw a fit or something. I wondered what sheâd do if I did say no. Would we move anyway? But I couldnât do that. Iâd at least try. I owed her that. And weâd agreed long ago that she made the big decisions. And most of the small ones, too.
I nodded.
The worried expression disappeared, replaced by her biggest smile. The kind that dimpled her cheeks and made her eyes shine. She wrapped me in a big hug and whispered in my ear. âThank you, baby. I love you soooooo much.âÂ
âI love you too,â I said back, âmore than anything.â I meant it, of course. Iâd do just about anything to make her happy. But saying the wordsâand feeling themâdid nothing to loosen the knot in my stomach. Everything was going to change.