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You go on a week long trip and come home to find that your FC hasn’t shit since you left. You give them a few bottles of warm milk to help get things moving and massage their belly.

Contains: ABDL type relationship, messing, farting

The living room glowed with soft morning sunlight filtering through the curtains.

She sat cross-legged on the fluffy rug right in front of the television, wearing her favorite Sesame Street pajamas. The long-sleeve shirt had a big smiling Elmo on the front, and the cozy bottoms were covered in the colourful characters.

The soft fabric was comfy and babyish, and the pj bottoms did nothing to hide the obvious padded bulk of her diaper underneath.

Her eyes were wide and sparkling as she watched Sesame Street. Big Bird was teaching Elmo and Abby Cadabby how to share toys in the most cheerful way possible. The bright colors and happy music filled the room.

She suckled steadily on her warm morning baba, the sweet milk tasting so comforting as she rocked gently side to side. The bottle was almost empty.

Every now and then she let out a tiny, contented hum around the nipple, completely lost in the bright puppets and silly songs.

Elmo’s so silly today, and Big Bird’s feathers look extra fluffy. Everything feels so nice and warm and safe… she thought dreamily.

In the background, Daddy hummed while washing dishes after breakfast. The clink of plates and running water mixed softly with the cartoon music.

She barely noticed. She was too busy finishing her baba, too happy sitting right here in her favourite little spot with her blankie draped over her lap.

With one last big suckle, the bottle emptied. She set it down carefully beside her and popped her paci into her mouth instead, clutching her blankie tighter against her chest. The soft fabric brushed her cheek as she bounced lightly to the next song, eyes never leaving the screen.

A funny, warm pressure started growing in her tummy.

All characters are 18+

“Almost there sweetie”,mommy beamed from the front seat.my insides churned as the sickly muck inside me was pleading to come out.how much longer could it possibly be to get home,I thought. Mommy gave a cheerful smile in the rear view mirror to her baby boy,but it descended into an evil smirk.her baby boy didn’t know the plan was working perfectly,she had made a bet with her other mommy friends.The Bet was to make her little boy produce the messiest diaper he’s ever made.

this of course was not known to her little boy who was being fed as many lies as he was greasy fast food combos.his belly was taught with large combos his mommy insisted on him having to “keep his energy up”.conveniently ,she had also “forgotten” to pack any spare diapers for the day leaving him in a severely wet diaper.a diaper so full it was leaking at the sides, she would apologize and dab the sides of his legs with a baby wipe to keep him a little more comfortable.

the last 5 hours were followed with driving,playing,shopping,feeding,burping, and napping.”m-mommmyyyy… please when are we gonna be home ,I have to pottyyy..” he whined from the backseat.”oh my sweet pumpkin we’re almost there we just need to stop by the post office first.” He could feel the cold sweat drip onto his face,he was clenching the fabric of his car seat for any relief he could find.the cramps only seemed to build higher.”you know honey,you haven’t pooped yet today maybe you’re just constipated or gassy you probably just need to fart. He didn’t feel the need to fart out of fear he might open up the flood gates.

his mommy’s hand reached into the backseat to rub his tummy,kneading and rolling his outstretched belly.”Mommy please!” He cried pushing her hand away.”baby just try to fart I promise you’ll feel better you won’t be so cramped.” He didn’t want her hand to come back so he started pushing ,only a little at first but the cramps started to become a little better.

all until his mommy stopped at the post office to go inside.she left the car running and left him in the back with the doors locked.15 minutes passed and there was no sign of mommy.his stomach cramps were getting bad again so he tried passing some gas to relieve the pressure again.he pushed lightly,nothing,he braced himself to push a little harder.he sat up to push a little more but gave it all his might. the gas escaped but gave way to a thick slurry of soft serve like poop filled up his seat.his face became red as he gave up trying to hold it,still lifting himself off the seat he could feel the back of his diaper fill to meet the space he was creating.sitting down was a hard option but he couldn’t hang on to the handle any longer he let himself back down.the stinky mess pushed itself out and around his overalls with no problem.he reached forward to grab the baby wipes and started to clean up the sides of his legs he could see covered with poopy.

his mommy came back and flung herself into the drivers seat,throwing the packages into the passenger.”baby you would not believe what they made me do to get these packages I had to wait in line for almost 30 min—“she sniffed the air with a surprised look on her face.”baby did you—,what are you doing honey.?”,she asked confused.”I’m cleaning myself up mommy.” she looked down at him with no expression as she squished her hand into his sopping diaper.

It's bad enough that the babysitter never came back with the post-bedtime story bottle refill they promised, opting instead to make out with their boyfriend and leaving your nursery lights on in the process...

But now, the adults are finally home and they're already at it too. You're just hoping they decide to turn on the baby monitor for foreplay...

All characters are 18+

“Almost there sweetie”,mommy beamed from the front seat.my insides churned as the sickly muck inside me was pleading to come out.how much longer could it possibly be to get home,I thought. Mommy gave a cheerful smile in the rear view mirror to her baby boy,but it descended into an evil smirk.her baby boy didn’t know the plan was working perfectly,she had made a bet with her other mommy friends.The Bet was to make her little boy produce the messiest diaper he’s ever made.

this of course was not known to her little boy who was being fed as many lies as he was greasy fast food combos.his belly was taught with large combos his mommy insisted on him having to “keep his energy up”.conveniently ,she had also “forgotten” to pack any spare diapers for the day leaving him in a severely wet diaper.a diaper so full it was leaking at the sides, she would apologize and dab the sides of his legs with a baby wipe to keep him a little more comfortable.

the last 5 hours were followed with driving,playing,shopping,feeding,burping, and napping.”m-mommmyyyy… please when are we gonna be home ,I have to pottyyy..” he whined from the backseat.”oh my sweet pumpkin we’re almost there we just need to stop by the post office first.” He could feel the cold sweat drip onto his face,he was clenching the fabric of his car seat for any relief he could find.the cramps only seemed to build higher.”you know honey,you haven’t pooped yet today maybe you’re just constipated or gassy you probably just need to fart. He didn’t feel the need to fart out of fear he might open up the flood gates.

his mommy’s hand reached into the backseat to rub his tummy,kneading and rolling his outstretched belly.”Mommy please!” He cried pushing her hand away.”baby just try to fart I promise you’ll feel better you won’t be so cramped.” He didn’t want her hand to come back so he started pushing ,only a little at first but the cramps started to become a little better.

all until his mommy stopped at the post office to go inside.she left the car running and left him in the back with the doors locked.15 minutes passed and there was no sign of mommy.his stomach cramps were getting bad again so he tried passing some gas to relieve the pressure again.he pushed lightly,nothing,he braced himself to push a little harder.he sat up to push a little more but gave it all his might. the gas escaped but gave way to a thick slurry of soft serve like poop filled up his seat.his face became red as he gave up trying to hold it,still lifting himself off the seat he could feel the back of his diaper fill to meet the space he was creating.sitting down was a hard option but he couldn’t hang on to the handle any longer he let himself back down.the stinky mess pushed itself out and around his overalls with no problem.he reached forward to grab the baby wipes and started to clean up the sides of his legs he could see covered with poopy.

his mommy came back and flung herself into the drivers seat,throwing the packages into the passenger.”baby you would not believe what they made me do to get these packages I had to wait in line for almost 30 min—“she sniffed the air with a surprised look on her face.”baby did you—,what are you doing honey.?”,she asked confused.”I’m cleaning myself up mommy.” she looked down at him with no expression as she squished her hand into his sopping diaper.

Talking Him Through It

“You had to have known this was coming, didn’t you baby?" She said, "Be honest with me. Did you really think you were just going to be peeing in your diapers all the time and that was it? That you’d get to keep some scrap of big-boy dignity while waddling around in thick padding?" She let the silence hang. "No… deep down you knew this moment was inevitable. You knew that one day you’d be right here, on your knees, feeling that heavy pressure build, and you’d have no choice but to make your first real poopy diaper right in front of me.”

Mike let out a soft, mortified whimper, his face already burning crimson as he shifted uncomfortably on his knees, eyes darting away. “Valerie… please,” he whispered, voice shaking with embarrassment. “I-I didn’t think it would actually go this far. I can’t… it’s too humiliating. Can we please not do this? I don't think I can--”

"Shh..." Valerie said, pressing a finger firmly to his lips to silence him. "No more of that whining. This is how it is now. This is your new normal. And protesting only makes you look even more pathetic than you already do. You’re just going to have to accept it.”

The tension thickened unbearably. Mike’s breathing turned shallow and ragged, soft desperate whines as he clenched instinctively, trying to fight the inevitable. His hands fidgeted at his sides, knees pressing hard into the rug while waves of humiliation crashed over him.

“I really can’t do this,” he whined, voice cracking pathetically. “It’s going to be so gross and—and—and...Please, Val! I’m begging you! Please don't make me do this...”

Valerie tilted her head slightly, her expression calm and almost sweetly pitying as she looked down at him. “Oh, sweetie… I’m not making you do anything. This is what you wanted, remember? You were the one who begged me to put you in diapers in the first place.”

Mike shook his head desperately, tears already welling in his eyes. “But I didn't want this!" He whined, "I just wanted to feel little and taken care of. Maybe wet a diaper or two. But I never thought you’d actually make me do…all of this!"

Valerie gave a soft, amused chuckle and reached out to cup his burning cheek, gently wiping away a leaky tear with her thumb. “Sweetheart, you know I don’t do anything half-assed. You wanted me to take control. You wanted me to treat you like my widdle baybee. Well, this is what that looks like. You don’t get to pick and choose which parts feel good and which parts are too gross or embarrassing. I was being nice before, letting you use the potty for your dirty business. But those days are over. The diapers aren’t just for cute little wettings anymore...they’re your potty now. For all of it. This is what you asked for. Now you’re going to live with it."

Mike let out another broken whimper, face burning with shame. “Please… I’m begging you. Just this once, can’t we—”

But before he could get out another word, a pacifier was pressed into his mouth.

"Shhh...no more talking," she said, her tone firm and unsympathetic. “Just pushing. You’re done protesting. Now be a good boy and focus on filling that diaper like you know you need to.”

Mike’s made pathetic little sounds around the pacifier as he sucked on it instinctively. His face burned hotter than ever, tears of pure shame glistening in his eyes. He tried to look down, to avoid that look, as if it would give him some semblance of privacy, but Valerie lifted his chin with a single finger, forcing his gaze back up to hers.

“Look at me, baby. Eyes up here. I want to watch your face while you do it. Let Mommy see every little grunt, every little squint, every little strain. Feel that pressure building stronger and stronger? That’s your body telling you it’s time for your first poopy diaper. This is how it goes from now on. Now relax your bottom… it’s time. Let Mommy see exactly what a helpless little pants-pooper looks like!”

The pacifier quivered in his mouth. Mike held out for another long, agonizing moment, muffled whines vibrating around the silicone as his cheeks puffed slightly from sucking on it. Then, with a shaky, defeated breath, he finally gave in.

The first hesitant push came slowly. His face contorted in visible effort, brow furrowed, eyes squeezed half-shut in embarrassment as he stared up at her. A faint, muffled crackling sound broke the silence as the seat of the diaper began to expand, the bright little cars stretching obscenely while the warm, mushy mess pushed out. The sensation hit him instantly: the growing warmth, the heavy bulge forming between his legs, the unmistakable squish beginning to settle against him. Fresh shame flooded his cheeks as the reality sank in, he was actually doing it, right in front of her, grunting softly around the pacifier.

“Awww!! There we go!!” Valerie giggled, her voice warm with approval but still laced with that unyielding dominance. “You're doing it! You're making poo-poo's!! Ah-ah! Don't look away! Eyes on me. Just like that. Theeere we go!! Good boy! Your first poopy diaper as a grown man!! How's that feel, hmm? Go on! Keep pushing! Get it alllll out into your widdle diapy!! This is how you go potty from now on! Right here on your knees, facing Mommy, filling your diaper while I watch every humiliating second of your face. No more bathrooms, no more dignity. Just warm, squishy messes in your pants whenever nature calls."

Mike let out a higher, mortified whine around the pacifier as another he continued pushing, his cheeks flushing deeper, eyes watering as the diaper grew even heavier, the material rounding out noticeably.

"Just like that, baby! You're doing so well!!" she continued, leaning in closer. "Look at you making biggg boom-booms in your diaper where the little cars go vroom vroom!! Hahaha! Mommy can see that diaper sagging more and more with every little push! Feel that warm mush filling up your seat? Mommy's so proud of you!"

The smell began to drift upward, growing stronger with each passing second.

"Oof!" Valerie wrinkled her nose and wafted a hand in front of her face. "Stinky boy!! Is that you?? Are you the one making all that smell?? You're doing so amazing, sweetheart! Making a big, stinky present for Mommy! That's it. Keep pushing, baby...get it all out! I want that diaper nice and full for your very first time.”

He whimpered helplessly around the pacifier, knees trembling as the diaper sagged lower and lower, the back growing thick and heavy with a final, unmistakable crinkle. The warm, mushy weight settled heavily against him, and the pungent smell became impossible to ignore.

“That’s my good little diaper boy,” she cooed, pinching his crimson cheek, “doing his big stinky business right where he’s supposed to.”

Mike stayed on his knees, breathing shakily around the pacifier, the thick, warm mess squishing with every tiny movement. He didn’t know what was worse: the heavy, squishy feeling or the awful smell now hanging in the air. His face burned with utter shame.

“All done?” Valerie asked cheerfully.

Mike gave a small, defeated nod.

“Say ‘all done!’” she instructed, demonstrating the little hand sign she used when feeding him, raising her hands and twisting them. “Come on! Do the sign like a good baybee!”

Blushing furiously, Mike mimicked the stupid motion back at her with shaky hands while mumbling “aw done” around the pacifier. Nothing like telling your wife that you're done crapping all over yourself.

Valerie clapped her hands rapidly in delight. “Yayy!!! You did it, baby! Your first poopy diaper like the pathetic little boi you are now! And there will be sooo many more just like it in your future! But first…”

She leaned forward and gently plucked the pacifier from his mouth.

“I need to hear you say it,” she said, her voice sweet but commanding. “Tell Mommy exactly what you just did. Use your big-boy words. What happened back there? Be specific and honest about what a messy, stinky baby you’ve become. Make it good if you want any chance of being changed.”

Mike hesitated, another tiny mortified whine escaping him. Fresh waves of embarrassment washed over his face, but her expectant silence pressed down until he finally mumbled, red-faced and defeated, barely above a whisper:

“I… I went p-p-p-poo-poo's, Mommy... I...m-messed myself… ”

“Louder, sweetie. Don’t mumble. Tell me what a stinky little pants-pooper you are now.”

He swallowed hard, tears of humiliation pricking at his eyes. “I pooped my diaper… I went potty in my pants like a stupid baybee. I filled it all up and now it’s all squishy and stinky back there… and...and..." he didn't know what else to say. What words could capture how degraded he felt?

But Valerie nodded, satisfied, her voice steady and final, wrinkling her nose slightly with a knowing smile as the smell lingered. "That’s right. Your first dirty diaper, and far from the last. This is exactly how it goes from now on. No more fighting it. No more big-boy excuses or dignity. When you have to go, you come tell Mommy what you need to do...or you use your diaper right then and there."

She paused, eyes sparkling with mischief. Mike's throat tightened.

“But I’m gonna need you to do one more thing for me before you get changed, mmkay pumpkin?" She let the silence and anticipation hang again, then continued, "Since this is your first one, I need you to really feel it. To get used to it. So I’m gonna need you to sit down on your bum-bum, okay? Can you do that for Mommy?”

Mike’s eyes widened in fresh horror. “Val… please, no,” he whispered, voice cracking, wriggling in the ruined diaper. “It’s already so gross and heavy… Please don’t make me—”

“Awww, poor baby!!" Valerie cooed, her voice dripping with fake sympathy. "Look at you! all teary-eyed and cringing. It’s okay, sweetie. Mommy knows it feels yucky right now. But this is part of it. You wanted to be my little boy in diapers… so now you have to learn what that really means.”

"But can't I just—"

"Do you want to stay in that warm, squishy, stinky diaper even longer?" Valerie snapped, her voice turning firm and sharp. "Because I can leave you like this allll afternoon if you’d rather. Your choice.”

Mike sobbed softly, his shoulders shaking. But she was right, he didn't want to stay in this nasty mess any longer. Defeated, he shook his head ‘no’.

“Then sit,” she said sweetly, but with steel underneath. “Right on your bulgey little bottom. Now.”

The heavy, mushy weight already felt unbearable. Humiliated beyond words, he slowly lowered himself onto the striped rug.

The moment his bottom made contact, the warm mess squished loudly beneath him with a wet, crinkly squelch. The thick load spread out, pressing up and around him in the most degrading way imaginable. He let out a sharp, mortified cry, his whole body cringing from his toes to his spine as the mush molded disgustingly against his skin.

“Therrre we go!!” Valerie cooed, her voice flipping back to that soft, motherly tone. “Hear that squish? Feel how it’s all spreading and smearing inside your diapy? That’s your big stinky poo-poo's, baby! You made that! All of that! Now wriggle for Mommy… bounce up and down. Really feel it squishing everywhere. Good boy.”

Mike whimpered and cried, fresh tears rolling down his burning cheeks as he obeyed. He shifted his weight from side to side, then gave a small, reluctant bounce. The mess squelched loudly again, spreading further and coating him more thoroughly. Another broken sob escaped him.

“Shhh, shhh...that's it. Cry it out, baby. Let it all sink in.” Valerie said, feigning pity while her eyes sparkled with amusement. She reached out and gently stroked his hair. “Such a sad widdle baybee sitting in his own dirty diaper. Does it feel all warm and nasty back there? Does it feel gross? Poor thing… but you’re going to get sooo used to this. I promise! This heavy, stinky, squishy feeling? It's your new normal. No more running to the bathroom like a real grown-up. Just you squatting and pottying in your pampers whenever you need to."

It was his fault. It was all his fault.

He asked for this. He wanted the diapers, he wanted her to take control. But he should have known. He should have thought it all the way through. He just never thought it would lead to...this.

She let him sit there for a long moment, letting the reality sink deep into his bones, before finally standing up from the couch. She held out her hand, smiling down at him with that sweet, knowing smile.

"You beg me for weeks to wear blue again, and when I let you, you don't even have the gratitude to accompany me to the store for the family's weekly shopping without making a fuss! I swear, you're the most ungrateful little brat I've ever had the misfortune of nannying - and to think you used to be the "man" of the house. I'd spank you right here and now, but the diaper aisle seems like a more appropriate venue for reminding you of your proper place in this household."

The stroller’s wheels squeak softly as Mommy pushes you through the front door, the sound of laughter and chatter spilling out from the living room. You can feel the weight of the thick diaper between your legs, the plastic backing crinkling with every slight movement. The shortalls do little to hide the obvious bulge, the fabric stretched taut over the padding. You wiggle your toes, the socks on your feet feeling absurdly small, like they belong to a child rather than a grown man. But that’s what you are now, aren’t you? Mommy’s little boy, strapped into a stroller, about to be paraded in front of people who once knew you as an equal.

You grip the tray of the stroller, your fingers tracing the edge of the plastic as Mommy steers you into the room. The conversations falter for a moment, then die entirely. You can almost hear the confusion in the silence. A few of your former coworkers glance over, their expressions shifting from polite smiles to outright bewilderment. One of them, Mark, from accounting, does a double take, his beer bottle pausing halfway to his lips.

“Uh…” he starts, then stops, as if his brain can’t quite process what he’s seeing.

Mommy doesn’t miss a beat. She stops the stroller in the middle of the room, her hand resting on the back as she beams down at you. “Look who I brought!” she announces, her voice dripping with that infuriating, affectionate pride. “Say hi to everyone, sweetheart.”

You squirm, your face burning. You want to shrink into the stroller, to disappear entirely, but there’s nowhere to hide. The diaper is impossible to ignore, the bulk of it pressing against the seat, the tapes digging slightly into your hips. You can feel the warmth spreading through the padding, you’d peed a little on the way over, nerves getting the better of you, and the wetness indicators are probably already an embarrassing blue.

“Hi,” you mumble, your voice small, your eyes fixed on your lap.

Mark, your old coworker, is the first to break the silence. He tilts his head, squinting at the obvious bulge beneath your shortalls. “Dude… is he wearing a diaper?”

Mommy doesn’t hesitate. “Of course he is.”

Sarah, from HR, steps closer, her eyes flicking between Mommy and the unmistakable outline of the diaper. “No way. Seriously?”

Mommy nods, her fingers already working at the snaps of your shortalls. “Seriously.”

Jake from marketing crosses his arms, his expression a mix of disbelief and amusement. “But does he, like… use it?”

Mommy’s grin widens as she unfastens the last snap and tugs the shortalls down your legs in one smooth motion. The fabric pools at your ankles, leaving you in nothing but your t-shirt and the thick, crinkling diaper. The room falls silent again as the full sight of you is revealed, the bulky padding, the plastic backing, the way the diaper forces your legs apart.

And then they see it.

The wetness.

The deep blue stripe on the front of the diaper is  impossible to miss, the plastic glistening slightly where the moisture has spread. Sarah’s eyes widen. “Oh my God. He peed in it.”

Mommy chuckles, bending down to pull the shortalls free and set them aside. “Told you he uses them.”

Mark lets out a disbelieving laugh, crouching down to get a better look. His fingers hover just above the diaper, as if he’s afraid to touch it. “That’s… that’s wild.”

Jake shakes his head, his grin spreading. “So he just sits there, in a wet diaper, like it’s normal?”

Mommy ruffles your hair, her touch affectionate. “It is normal. For him, anyway.” She taps the front of your diaper, the squish loud in the quiet room. “See? Nice and wet. Just like a good little boy should be.”

The room erupts into laughter, the initial shock giving way to teasing. Sarah reaches out, her fingers brushing against the plastic backing. The crinkle is deafening. “Damn. That’s thick. And wet.”

You squirm, your face burning, but you don’t protest. What’s the point? The evidence is right there, plain for everyone to see. The diaper is heavy between your legs, the wetness a constant, embarrassing reminder of your regression. But beneath the humiliation, there’s something else, something warm, something comforting. This is who you are now. Mommy’s little boy, diapered and cared for, and if that means being the center of attention for a while, so be it.

The teasing continues for what feels like an eternity. They ask if you can walk (you can, but Mommy prefers to keep you in the stroller for “safety”). They ask if you want to be like this (the answer is complicated). They ask if Mommy changes you (yes, and you hate how much you love it).

Eventually, though, the novelty wears off. The adults drift back to their conversations, work, politics, the latest sports game, leaving you and Mommy on the periphery. Mommy bends down, her face softening as she looks at you. “You doing okay, baby?”

You nod, but your throat feels tight.

She smiles, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “Good boy. “Now go play.”

Play. The word makes your stomach twist, but you obey, shuffling toward the corner of the room where a few toys have been left out, a stuffed bear, a stack of blocks, a coloring book. You can feel the eyes on you as you move, the occasional snicker, the whispered comments. But you ignore them, because Mommy told you to play, and good boys listen to Mommy.

You sink down onto the floor, the diaper crinkling loudly beneath you. The blocks are in front of you, but you don’t reach for them. Instead, you sit there, your hands resting on your knees, the thickness of the diaper a constant, comforting presence.

Across the room, the party continues. Laughter, clinking glasses, the hum of adult conversation. And you? You’re just… there. A curiosity. A joke. A little boy in a diaper, left to his own devices while the grown-ups talk about grown-up things.

It’s humiliating.

It’s perfect.

I squirm in discomfort, wiggling in my rolling chair, as I pretend to stare at the numbers on the screen in front of me.

My bladder, full to bursting, screams out to me in agony.

11:30 am.

It's only been two hours since I peed last, but, my body doesn't seem to care about that. All it seems to be worried about is relieving itself.

I turn my head, peeking towards the hallway where the office bathrooms are located. A shiver of unease works its way down my spin.

The fluorescent lights in the hallway flicker. A dark, malevolent figure appears in the darkness before the light becomes steady again.

I wince as a surge of pain, radiates through my body.

My babysitter doesn’t show the slightest hint of surprise as I grunt and push a load into my diaper. She smiles like she saw it coming a mile away.

Want to know the worst part of this whole situation? It’s probably not what you think.

Because it’s not the fact that I’m wearing a diaper. Or even that I’m pooping my diaper in front of her.

It’s not the fact that I have a babysitter waiting to change my diaper.

It’s not even the fact that I’m pooping my diaper in the middle of public while I eat an ice cream cone.

No, it’s how stupidly normalized this all is.

This caption features the wonderful @babyeeveesstuff, who was kind enough to model for this caption! Oh, and it was also loosely inspired by @akinkycouple’s request for soft MDLB, because I realized I don’t have many soft MDLB captions!

Eevee barely stirred despite the hand prodding at his diaper. By now, waking up to diaper checks was so commonplace that they no longer startled him.

A smile curled behind his binky as he shifted on his back, kicking the rest of his blankets off and stretching his sleepy body.

His eyes remained closed, still groggy from his midday nap. As always when it came to naps, he was naked except for his diaper and socks.

Not that he cared. Mommy loved how adorable he was sleeping in nothing but a diaper. And that was all that mattered.

He giggled at the fingers tickling his tummy, his diaper crinkling merrily along as he kicked his legs.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was dimly aware of the cold, uncomfortable mess in the back of his diaper—though it was of little consequence.

The state of his diaper was not his concern. All he cared about was getting more attention from Mommy.

“Such a happy baby boy you are! Did you have a nice nappypoo?”

Eevee froze in terror. That was not Mommy’s voice.