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Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away…
(Today)
Anna’s breasts were bigger than Devin could ever remember. They were huge, at least Double
D’s. They were the kind of breasts he typically thought about her having when he was trying to
speed things up in bed with her. That was more than likely the only good news about today.
From the moment he had woken up, he’d been in some strange plushy hell. He’d woken up
behind the wooden bars of a particularly large crib; with a pacifier plugged into his mouth and
strapped behind his head. Padded mittens had prevented him from unlatching the gag, and for
some reason he’d been unable to stand up and climb over the top rail of the crib.
Things had only gotten stranger when Anna had come in, pushed him down as if he were a
kitten, and changed his sopping wet diaper. If that had been the weirdest thing thus far, he’d
still just be focusing on his wife’s breasts, but being harnessed into an adult sized car seat to
ride to the country club, and then being carried (yes, carried) into this mansion’s giant nursery
upped the bizzaro factor by at least ten.
Anna had changed his diaper, (again…he’d wet himself on the ride over…that was something
he’d have to unpack later), then brought him over to a couch, and sat him down on the floor next
to two other guys who were clearly dressed as babies. One of them, in shortalls, made him feel
distinctly jealous. The other one, dressed in only a t-shirt and a very large Pampers, made him
realize that his onesie wasn’t so bad.
It was only after he got a good look around the room and saw a bunch of other dudes, all
clearly padded between their legs and most very obviously not happy about it, that Devin’s
pacifier gag was removed- and he was smart enough to keep his mouth shut.
Above him, Anna sat on the couch chatting it up with the other women. Next to him, other men
avoided eye contact and looked at the floor. The scene was the same everywhere in the giant
playroom: men were acting like babies, but they were very clearly acting, and it was very clearly
the kind of acting that you did when there was a gun to your head. Their wives (or girlfriends, or
Mommies…whatever) were all very obviously playing a part too, only they were having a ball
with it.
Milling around all the chaos of public changes, pinched cheeks, and forced bottle feedings were
other women who were decidedly not with anyone. They were “the help,” all wearing black
maids’ uniforms with white trim, the kind you saw in movies and cartoons. They didn’t seem to
be play acting. They didn’t seem to be quite in their right head, to be honest; milling about like
drones and handing out glasses of wine to the other women. Most peculiarly though, was that
they were wearing diapers, too. Not the giant purple Luvs that was wrapped around Devin’s
ass, or the Pampers and Huggies that some of the less dressed men had on. They just wore
regular diapers. Adult diapers.
“I don’t get it, Anna,” some bitch with a wine glass said. “Why do you keep Devin in Luvs of all
things?”
Anna took her own glass from one of the drones. “What do you mean?”
“It’s a bargain diaper,” her friend said. “It doesn’t even have a wetness indicator.” A guy playing
nearby with blocks looked between his legs and blushed. The line running down the middle of
his diaper was a bright blue. Devin didn’t know much about diapers, but he’s guessing it wasn’t
blue when it got put on him.
Oblivious to the men’s humiliation, the conversation kept going on over their heads. “Why
would I need a wetness indicator?” Anna asked. “Wetness indicators are good for rash
prevention and potty training. He doesn’t get rashes, and he’s not going to be potty training.
Isn’t that right, sweetie?” Her hand reached down and pinched Devin firmly on the cheek,
wriggling it around. Instead of shrinking away, Devin leaned in and allowed his face to be
grabbed. He even giggled a bit.
“Is he all right?” asked another lady who was knocking back vino like she was gonna win
something. “Have you already given him his booster shot, or something?” Booster shot? Devin
had no idea what they were talking about, but the men next to him on the floor seemed to. The
fella in the wet Pampers whined a little bit, and a dude wearing shortalls shifted uncomfortably in
his seat. Either that or he was taking a dump in his pants; both were equally likely, given the
circumstances.
“We’re a little late on the booster shot,” Anna said. “His doesn’t wear off until tomorrow.”
Tomorrow? Tomorrow? Faint memories started rattling around Devin’s head.
The man in the shortalls started scooching away on his bottom. “Oh, that’s a shame that we
can’t all be here when it happens,” one of the ‘Mommies’ said before finishing off her wine.
“It’ll be more intimate though,” Anna said, patting Devin on his fluffy mop of hair. Intimate?
Flashes of memory, of wild sex and a pinprick in his ass. Yesterday, Anna had said she wanted
to make a baby with him. Was THIS what she had been talking about?
Anna’s first companion agreed with her sentiment. “True.”
“True,” the other one echoed. “But why Luvs?”
“Hmm?” Anna looked up from her glass.
“Why Luvs?” her companion repeated. “For real-” she stopped, then corrected herself, “for tiny
babies, the best selling point is the cost. We’re getting all this for free! So why not go all out and
get the good stuff?”
“Because,” Anna smiled, “you live, learn, and then get Luvs.”
Wine almost spilled all over the upholstery, the other two were laughing so hard. “Oh my gosh.
Are you still punishing him?”
“Oh my, goodness no,” Anna said. Out of the corner of his eye, Devin saw her pinching her
thumb and forefinger together, just barely touching. “Wellllll…maybe. Seriously though, it’s
what I always imagined my baby wearing. Don’t ask me why.” She finished her wine. “It’s also
nice to not have an advertisement for Sesame Street or Mickey Mouse on his crotch. But that’s
just me.”
Anna has said something about punishing him. Punishing him? Shit. Did that mean she knew?
Shifting his weight to his knees, Devin crawled, very, very slowly over to the man baby. It felt
natural, crawling, believe it or not. He felt less like an ape and more like a puppy, crawling
around on all fours, but doing it felt more natural to him.
He’d been drugged. That much was obvious. The real questions were “when would it wear off,”
and “how could he escape?”
His wife might’ve been oblivious to his acting, but the guy in the shortalls wasn’t. “Keep your
head down,” he hissed, while slowly pushing a toy car along the floor. “Bide your time. Wait for
your moment. Then make a break for it. They can’t catch us all.”
Sucking his thumb, Devin sat down next to the man-baby, and nodded.
(Yesterday)
“Good morning!” Devin greeted Anna as she wobbled into the kitchen, her eyes still half closed.
“Coffee’s ready!”
Anna smiled softly as she took a cup, already poured for her and sipped at it. “Thank you,” she
said. “You’re so good to me.”
“Well tomorrow is a special day,” Devin replied, all grins. “Tomorrow’s Mother’s Day!”
Anna smiled that cute, childlike smile of hers that only showed up when she was genuinely
flattered. “But I’m not a Mommy…” she said. “…yet.”
Devin closed the distance between the two and grinned. “Oh, we’re gonna try and fix that, won’t
we?”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Maybe we could even start after you could get home after work?” she asked.
“I think I’d like that,” Devin said.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
With a final peck on the cheek, Devin slipped out of the house and into the car. Looking at his
ring, he played with it on his finger for a little bit, twisting it this way and that like it was a little
toy. Then, as was his habit. He took it off and hid it in the glove compartment.
After seven years of marriage, he still didn’t even have a tan line.
Whipping out his phone, he texted Jenny. “You up?”
(Today)
Devin’s attention was diverted when three people walked into the giant playroom. Leading the
pack was a woman in a pristine and flowing white gown with lace trimming. She was an older
woman, but Devin wouldn’t have been able to guess exactly how old just by looking at her. She
was at that special age that some women get where she might have been in her late forties or
her early eighties.
She’d obviously had some work done, that much was for certain. Her face was too taut, her
eyebrows too thin, her breasts too high, her skin too tan, her hair too blonde. She looked rather
like a doll; something that was beautiful and elegant in principle, but didn’t quite make the leap
over the uncanny valley to reach attractive.
Still, she had something about her, that while not attractive, commanded respect. It was
something about her eyes. They were like a hawk’s; constantly scanning around the room, ever
alert. Looking for prey. Her long flowing gown and the way she carried herself reminded Devin
of ancient pagan priestesses readying an orgy. Her blonde hair, done up in a tight bun, with
those hawk’s eyes scanning the room harked back to Cinderella’s wicked step mother.
The two concepts, Devin quickly decided, were not mutually exclusive to each other.
Behind her was another woman. She was tall and slender, with short cropped black hair. Her
pointed nose and her skulking, almost jittery gait made Devin think of a tiny prey animal; a
mouse he decided. Her eyes were also scanning the giant nursery, but it was in a different way
than the lady leading them. She wasn’t looking for victims, she was looking for threats; as if any
one of the lushes or their diapered prisoners might leap out and attack. The Hawk Lady was the
head bitch in charge. Mouse Girl wasn’t.
Holding Mouse Girl’s hand and wearing only a blindfold and a cocky smile was one brick
shithouse of a man. Dick swinging, he swaggered in, almost pulling Mouse Girl with him with
his huge gait. He had the body of a prizefighter, if not a body builder. The bruises on his
knuckles attested to that. He lacked the sense of quiet regality that the hawk woman possessed,
and he seemed so much more the fool with his cock casually swinging about. The heckling,
derisive laughter from the women, even some of the maids, caused him to frown a bit in
confusion.
Like lepers seeking a cure, the women- dragging along their baby men- gathered around the
trio. Some parted for them as they passed, only to fall in line behind them or take up a position
surrounding them.
“Now’s my chance…” Shortalls hissed. “Get out while you can, dude!” Awkwardly, like an
excited turtle, the man-baby turned around and started to crawl past the forest of high-heels.
Something in Devin told him to stay put. This wasn’t his moment.
The strange procession of the Hawk Lady, the Mouse Girl, and the dumbass came to a halt in
the middle of the room. The matriarch called out. “Hello, Mommies,” she called out. God, even
her voice sounded like Cinderella’s step mother.
“Hello, Miss Susan,” the women answered in a kind of call and response tone usually reserved
for church. Their diapered husbands, boyfriends, and (if the drunken chatter he’d overheard
was true) even exes, sat by their ‘Mommies’ legs on the floor, just as if they were the helpless
little tykes they were dressed like. Someone had broken all of these guys, and broken them
good. Devin had more than an intuition that the Hawk Lady, this ‘Miss Susan,’ was the one that
was ultimately responsible.
Anna was nowhere in sight, lost somewhere among the crowd, or maybe downing another
glass of wine. Good.
Regardless of where Anna was, all eyes were on Miss Susan, the big naked dope behind her,
and the Mouse Girl holding his hand. “Ladies, as we do every year on Mother’s Day, we
welcome at least one new member into our circle.” She gestured to the little mouse behind her.
“This is Linda.”
“Hiiii Linda,” the chorus of women shouted with glee.
The Hawk Woman turned slightly and waved to the naked man behind her. He was grinning
like an idiot, his cock starting to swell a bit, just at the sound of the women surrounding him.
“This is her…boy…Billy.”
“That’s Bill,” the big man said, proudly. “We doing this or what?” A silence rippled through the
crowd. Someone had just back-sassed the Goddess, and everybody but Billy knew it. Devin
gulped. Two of the diapered maids came up from behind the blindfolded man and grabbed him.
“Hey-ey! Now we’re talkin’!”
No one laughed. No one said anything. Miss Susan turned and faced the dupe. “Billy has been
a very naughty boy, haven’t you Billy?”
Billy grinned, his member engorging. “Oh yeah I have! I’ve been a real bad boy.” From his
spot on the floor, Devin read the room. Grins and smiles were turning to frowns. It was not
friendly.
“You like to play rough. Isn’t that right, Billy?”
Hips gyrating, Billy answered. “Oh yeah! I like it reeeeal rough.” He jumped a bit when one of
the maids smacked him on the rump. “Yeah! That’s nice!”
“Do you need a spanking, Billy?”
The brute was all but humping the air in front of him. “I can take a beating.” He winced when
an alcohol swab was dragged across his posterior. “Huh?”
Like a shadow, another of the nameless, nearly faceless help emerged, a golden syringe in
hand. Like a squire handing a sword to his knight, the maid presented the needle to the Mouse
Girl, Linda. Susan paid no mind. “And you like committing violence, too, don’t you Billy?”
“Huh?” He stopped thrusting.
“You like violence, don’t you?” The bottle blonde witch repeated herself. “You like committing it
against people physically weaker than you. Don’t you?”
“What are you-?”
Meanwhile, Linda was circling around, chewing on her lip nervously and eyeing the man’s ass in
the least seductive way Devin thought imaginable. Miss Susan was a prosecutor, rattling off the
charges. “Speaking to you hasn’t worked. Trying to leave you didn’t work. A restraining order
most certainly won’t work. It doesn’t matter how often you say you’re sorry. You just do it
again.”
Linda chose that moment to strike. “Ow!” Billy yelped as the syringe needle pierced his
backside. The maids released him. “Shit!” He ripped off the blindfold and glared at her like a
bully demanding stolen test answers. “What the fuck was that about Linda!?”
The frail, mousey looking woman stood a little taller. “Just your booster shot, baby boy.”
Despite her words, there was no tenderness in her voice.
“The fuck does that mean?” Both Billy and Devin got the answer to that question quickly
enough. The big man started swaying and grabbing at his head, rubbing his eyes and picking at
his ears as if he were stuffed full of straw. Giggles from the surrounding women created a kind
of music for him to dance drunkenly too. “What did you do?”
The not quite old woman came up from behind the little mouse with a very large Pampers in her
hand. She placed her free hand on Billy and shushed him. “It’s okay, baby boy. We’re almost
ready for playtime. Just let it happen.” Billy was in no position to resist as his knees buckled
under his own weight and he tumbled to his knees. She looked to the little mouse of a lady.
“May I?”
Linda nodded as another one of the maids came up with a set of pills and a glass of water for
her. She tossed them back and washed them down with the glass, never once taking her eyes
off her man.
“Linda? Linda? What’s going on, baby?” Billy pleaded from his spot on the floor as a diaper
was slid underneath him. “Talk to me!”
“I’m not the baby,” Linda said. “I haven’t been the one throwing tantrums when I don’t get my
way. I know how to use my words. You don’t.” The little mouse doubled over in pain, her arms
wrapping around her chest. Through gritted teeth and closed eyes, she continued. “But that’s
okay, now. I’m gonna…make…it…right…” To thunderous applause, her breasts bulged out,
bloated and full; not unlike Anna’s were. That explained something.
Miss Susan finished diapering the man and stepped away, brushing her hands off. “Done.”
The big lug tried to scramble to his feet, only for his legs to buckle and him go crashing down
again; just like what had happened to Devin. From his spot on the floor, he saw most of the
baby-men, looking away, afraid, ashamed, or both. Were they crying? “WHAT’S GOIN’ ON!”
Billy screamed. “Linda! This wasn’t what we talked about!” Panicked and pathetic, the big man
started crawling on the ground, to the collective awing and laughter of all the women in
attendance. “Please!” he looked up to one of the Mommies. “Help! Please!”
All he got was a pat on the head for his troubles. The women ignoring him, Devin watched as
the other man looked to his new peers for help. None of them could even bear to make eye
contact with him. None of them but Devin. “Please! Help me!” He was tearing up. Clawing his
way along the carpet in an unsteady, almost possessed rhythm. “Something’s happening to
me! Call help! Call the cops! Call anybody!” Devin was frozen in terror as the man broke
down in front of him, all traces of dignity evaporating in front of Devin’s eyes. A meaty,
unsteady, but surprisingly weak hand gripped the collar of Devin’s onesie.
“Call…call…Maaaaaa maaaaaa!” Billy dropped face first to the floor with an audible thunk, his
fists clenched impotently as he cried out in pain and confusion.
The tones in the room went up a full octave. “Awwwwwwwwww!” The chorus of cooing was
good for two things, covering up the sounds of the other baby-men all quietly crying into their
hands, and drowning out the rude sounds that were suddenly coming out of Devin’s backside.
Without even meaning to, Devin began solidly filling the back of his diaper; a smelly and squishy
load piled into the soft, soaked cotton, causing the diaper to balloon out and the mess to spread
out across his rump. How had that happened? Any other day he’d be turning eleven shades of
red from embarrassment and thirty-nine hues of green due to whatever food poisoning caused
him to shit his pants.
His skin should be crawling right now; itching and burning with irritation, his mind screaming out
from anguish, but just then Devin couldn’t find the energy. His stomach didn’t turn. His face
didn’t flush. Just like with him being wet, there was no itching or feeling of discomfort. It was
almost like he was used to this.
With a confident swagger, Linda, now not so mousey looking, came up to the new baby-man.
Rolling him over, her face had gone from an almost emotionless and stern shell to one filled with
love and adoration. Maybe the stuff in that “booster shot” wasn’t the only thing messing with
people’s heads. Maybe something in those pills was crossing the women’s wires. From her
exposed nipples, Devin watched as milk dripped from Linda’s tits. “A baby’s cry does that to
new mothers,” Susan spoke and was rewarded by another chorus of knowing laughs.
Devin couldn’t help but look on as the sick parody of motherhood continued two feet away from
him. Bug-eyed and frowning, he watched as Linda brushed a hard, milky nipple across Billy’s
cheek and the overgrown infant turned to latch on, greedily sucking on her tit.
Stranger still, watching this made him feel…hungry. A line of drool dripped from his lips down
to the carpeted floor beneath him. Why was he drooling like one of Pavlov’s dogs?
A familiar hand came up behind him and gave his bum a pat, squishing the newly deposited
contents of his diaper up against him. “Thought so,” Anna said. “I know that look all too well.”
From his spot on the floor Devin looked up and stared up at his wife. They’d just watched a guy
get his ass beat and then injected with God-knows what, and now her biggest concern was what
was going on in Devin’s pants? This wasn’t Wonderland, this was the Twilight Zone.
Among the mad applause, titters and coos that rattled around the room as the newest “Mommy”
fed her “baby boy” his first meal, Devin caught sight of more syringes being passed around by
the diapered maids. One after another in rapid succession; confused, crying, begging baby-
men were getting the same golden stuff pressed into their veins.
As if having landed in the middle of a snake pit, Devin’s head went on a swivel, waiting for the
fangs to come down on him. Devin saw the poor schmuck in the shortalls crawling for the
doorway, only to be dragged back by the maids and drugged up like the rest of them. He was
sucking his thumb not ten seconds later.
“Ready to change?” Anna asked. Devin shook his head, his breathing becoming ragged and
threatening to break out into a full-blown sob. “Well, you need a diaper change. I’m Mommy,
and Mommy knows best, remember?” With two open, syringe-free hands, his wife motioned to
a large changing table. “Let’s go.” Not yet. It wasn’t his time yet. Somehow, his plan was still
working. He let out a sigh. Reluctantly, Devin started crawling towards the changing table.
(Yesterday)
“OMW �� �� <3 <3 <3” the text read. Followed by “I want your dick,” and “ :0 :0 :0”. Pants
around his ankles, Devin stared hungrily at the text from his spot on the old motel bed. He
could have afforded a better place to meet Jenny, he knew, but the motel was cheap, halfway
between home and work, and didn’t need a debit or credit card for a security deposit.
Being here reminded him of being back in college, when he and Anna would find any rickety
shack to fuck each other’s brains out. How’d that old Bob Seger song go again? “We were just
young and restless and bored,” he sung quietly to himself. Yeah, that was it.
Youth ended though, as youth tended to, and much sooner than Devin would have liked.
Marriage was just a long and boring routine now, with even sex being scheduled for maximum
fertility. Anna’s biological clock was ticking, and she was now fixated on having a baby. And
wouldn’t you know it: she was primed to get preggers tomorrow, on Mother’s Day.
Prescheduled, passionless sex, trying to make a squalling ball of piss and shit, on a day that
he’d learned to associate with his mother: It was the triple threat of buzz kills as far as Devin
was concerned. That’s where Jenny came in. It had already been six months or so, and the
routine had yet to get boring; probably because he wasn’t supposed to be doing it. It was
exciting. It was taboo. It made him feel young and restless and bored, and that he was working
on mysteries without any clues, instead of old and tired; like he’d been everywhere and done
everything. It was how sex was supposed to make him feel.
A deep exhale puffed his cheeks out. He couldn’t get too excited before his intern/lover got into
the room. If he came before Jenny got there, he’d get desensitized and would need to work all
the harder to get it up and keep it up for her. Worse yet, he’d get less enjoyment out of it.
Condoms were bad enough, but a preemptive round two when he hadn’t gotten a proper
chance to play in round one would just make for bad, boring sex.
It’d be just like sex with Anna. If Jenny and Anna were anything alike, it was that they got
pissed when they didn’t get off. Sometimes all Devin could do is just lay back and try to get
through it without saying anything stupid.
Better cool down. He pulled his pants back up, opened up the Facebook app on his phone and
started scrolling through news stories.
Political memes.
Stupid ads that had somehow targeted him.
Inspirational bullshit.
Devin groaned as he scrolled through it all. He wanted to cool down, not be bored to tears. He
went to his “Everything Local” group, to see what was going on. An article caught his attention.
“Man or Baby?” he read aloud. “Both, Maybe?” Apparently there was a small but growing
movement brewing in town; organized from the country club no less. Men were signing away
their power of attorney over to their wives, and then allowing themselves to be put in diapers
and treated like babies. Weird thing was, the ladies seemed cool with this. The article called it
“Maternalism”, which was a weird name, come to think of it. Sounded like a cult or something,
even though it looked more like some bullshit kink for guys who couldn’t cut it as real men.
Still waiting for Jenny to knock on the door, Devin scrolled down to the pictures.
Wow. Just wow.
When he’d read, “men treated as babies,” he was expecting like a dude in a Depends or
something, but these freaks were not kidding around. Pictures of grown men in toddler shortalls
playing with blocks were shown. Another guy breastfeeding from a woman, presumably his
wife, was underneath that. Some loser on his back in nothing but a diaper burned itself into
Devin’s mind. “Holy shit,” he whispered to himself. “Is this for real?” The diaper the guy in the
picture had on didn’t look like an adult diaper, but a baby one. Mickey Mouse was on the front
and everything. Was this shit photoshopped like that Al Franken crap a few years ago? If not,
somebody was being sued.
Devin kept skimming the article to see exactly who was about to lose their homes because
Huggies and Pampers didn’t want their names associated with loser pervs. “These men were
all infants at their core,” their spokeswoman, Susan (something Eastern European…something-
a-vich) was quoted as saying. “Their new Mommies and I are just giving them what they really
need to be happy. Before this, none of our members were happy in their relationships. Now
everyone is.”
He couldn’t help but laugh at that. What woman would actually want to change their dude’s
diapers? What dude would want that? Gross. Fucking gross.
Devin finished scrolling down the article to make sure this wasn’t some kind of satire. It wasn’t.
The article ended with mention of a planned town hall meeting. The local HOAs and the
Country Club were decidedly not happy with this turn of events. Down below the article were
hundreds of comments all basically saying the same things he was thinking. It was gross. It
was comical. It was decidedly unsexy.
This.
This did it. Devin was decidedly less horny, but not bored.
(Today)
Devin didn’t dare struggle as Anna strapped him onto the giant changing table. Already today,
he’d seen someone showing even that much independence get a double dose of the yellow
stuff in the syringes. Poor son of a bitch had gone totally newborn. All Devin had been able to
do was watch from his spot by the blocks while the guy screamed and begged as his ex-wife
stuck him in the ass with two needles and then wrapped him up in a diaper so big that it vaguely
resembled a pelvic cast.
Within a minute, the hot yellow wetness indicator on the mammoth Pamper had started to turn a
cool teal while the bastard wriggled on the floor, crying and bawling while his wife shushed him
and petted his face in long downward calming strokes. Too soon, the tears stopped, but the
crying didn’t. The big baby had just forgotten how to use his own tear ducts. Then came the
diapered maids with blankets to swaddle him up in; followed by a tit in his mouth to shut him up.
It worked. Miss Susan had watched over the whole thing, smiling approvingly.
Right now was not his time. Clearly, Anna had drugged him last night and whatever Mickey
she’d slipped him had worn off without her realizing it. But as soon as he showed that he was
sober, these cunts would give him a more permanent version. Devin was going to escape, all
right, but he’d have to wait for an opening. He just had to get through this without showing off
his hand. He had to act like a baby long enough to get away from these freaks and go from
there.
“Let’s see if Devin left a present for Mommy,” Anna said, unsnapping his onesie. He’d half
expected one of the maids to come and help lift his feet, but it was completely unnecessary.
With a fair amount of ease and a decisiveness showing far too much experience in this sort of
thing, Anna snaked her arm under his knees and pushed them back up to his chest, causing his
rump to come up off the ground. The babyish shirt was slid up past his bellybutton shortly after,
and his legs were set back down.
Despite himself, he lifted his head to see the ludicrously proportioned Luvs taped around his
hips. The purple monkey perching just below the “Size 3” marking on his waistband grinned
stupidly; while the crisscross purple mesh pattern- rather like a chain link fence- barely hid the
swollen yellow discoloration around his crotch. The smell of cheap perfume mingled with the
smell of his leavings.
Anna fanned her hand in front of her face. “Yup, this one has about reached its limit. Time for a
change.” The sounds of Velcro tearing from the front of his diaper scritch-scratched their way
into the air as she pulled the front open. “Oh wow! What did I feed you to make that?!” she
pointed to the revealed contents.
Don’t blush don’t blush don’t blush. This was gonna be like bad sex, he decided. All he could
really do was lay back and try to get through it without saying something stupid. If he was
blushing, Anna didn’t notice or comment, instead going for a nearby wipe before snaking back
under his legs and starting to tenderly cleanse his backside. “Mommy will make it all gone,” she
said. “Alllll gone.”
She did make it ‘all gone’, too. Devin’s legs and hips stayed firmly in the air as wipe after wipe
after wipe came and cleaned the mess he’d been forced to make on himself. If it took a handful
of wipes to change a real baby’s diaper, it took at least three times as many to get into the
various nooks and folds of his skin. But clean him she did, and without complaint. Indeed, she
did the opposite; cooing nonsense at him as she wiped, and giving his exposed tummy little
tickles as she threw one away and went for the next. There were even little whispers about
“what a good boy” he was being, and “how proud” she was. All the while she wiped his ass,
cock, balls, and taint without hesitation or rest. Overnight the woman had developed the
concentration of a Buddhist monk and the stamina of a camel.
And she was pretty good at it, too. There was something soothing about having his nether
regions tended to by someone else. Under different circumstances, he could get used to this.
The wipes were from a warmer, as well; not cold like this morning. As she finished wiping his
penis, Devin had to bite his lip to prevent a moan from coming out. It really was quite nice; just
shy of a blowjob, only without the threat of gagging. “Oh…?” Anna’s remark brought Devin up
from his daydream. In letting his mind wander, Devin’s member had taken the opportunity to
swell and become rigid.
What was going to happen now? Had he given himself away? Shit! His insane wife didn’t call
out for any help, however. No oblivion-carrying needles came to him. The only thing that
happened was that Anna balled up the used Luvs and tossed it into a far-too-big diaper genie.
“Boys,” she said to him. “The only thing I can really change about you are your diapers, am I
right?” Devin looked at her and blinked, uncomprehendingly. Was she talking to him or talking
at him? He wasn’t sure. As if in answer, Anna dug around in the diaper bag and took out a
fresh Luvs, unfolding it twice before slipping it underneath him. Was this his third or fourth
diaper today? He’d already lost track. Did the one he woke up in this morning count?
More importantly, how was his wife so good at this? She wasn’t a nurse. She didn’t have any
experience with changing regular diapers, fuck all and forget about adult ones. Yet as she
sprinkled baby powder over his rock-hard cock and pulled the fresh crinkling mass up between
his legs, Devin got the distinct feeling that she’d done this before. It was only his second or third
diaper change as an adult. It obviously wasn’t her second or third time changing an adult
diaper. So, who had she been practicing on? What kind of sick kinky fucker had she been
cheating with?
The Velcro tabs were done up: first the left, then the right. Up went his legs again, even farther
back this time, and Anna reached down and yanked the bottom of his onesie down under his
bum. Swiftly she buttoned the snaps closed between his legs, completing the change. “All
done,” she said, giving his padded crotch a pat. “All better. Isn’t that right, baby boy?” Oh God.
Under different circumstances, this would be almost hot. Almost.
Miss Susan approached the changing table, a suspicious and knowing look in her eyes. “Not
quite,” she said. “He has the look about him. It’s time for his booster shot.”
Anna tilted her head to the side and looked Devin square in the face. “Yeah,” she said. “I
guess it’s time. It’s been fun playing with him like this, though, for a change.” Her hand ruffled
his curly brown locks. “But I miss my real baby boy. Thank you for reminding, Miss Susan.”
“My pleasure, dear,” the plastic harpy replied. “We all need reminders from time to time, and
that’s what this day is all about. Reminding yourself who you threw away so you can better
appreciate who you received in turn.”
She knew. They both knew. They all knew. Luck had nothing to do with it. They’d known he
was in his right head the entire time and had been getting off on him knowingly degrading
himself. Since yesterday, everything had been a sick game. The game was up, though. Devin
couldn’t take it anymore. “This is sick, Anna. This whole thing is disgusting.”
Anna ignored him, instead turning to look at the Matriarch of this little cult; that’s what it was, a
cult. “It was fun while it lasted,” she said. “My little Devin always was good at keeping secrets.”
Devin’s indignant rage was cut off as Anna reached over and tweaked his nose a little too hard.
“Just not nearly as good as he thinks he is.”
“Oh, he can’t help it,” Miss Susan replied. “It’s in his nature, after all.”
(Yesterday)
“Fuck me, Daddy!”
Somehow Devin got even harder at being called ‘Daddy’, his lust increasing even as he
continued to thrust in and out of the girl beneath him. Strange, considering fatherhood is what
he was specifically trying to avoid, but something about it just made him want to explode inside
her. “Hrn! Hrn! Hrn!” He grunted as Jenny lay beneath him, her legs up over her head and her
free arm sneaking its way between her legs.
“Pull my hair,” she moaned. “Please, pull my hair!” Her eyes were closed, lost in the sensation,
yet he could not take his eyes off her. By God, this was hot. It was remarkable what a twenty-
something girl could do for a thirty-two-year-old man’s self-esteem. At home, he was ‘Devin’,
and ‘honey,’ and other meaningless, powerless nicknames born out of habit. Here? Right now?
He was ‘Daddy’. Here, he could truly be himself. No guilt. No shame. No responsibilities.
Here, he was king.
He slowed his rhythm just enough so he could lean in close and whisper in her ear. “Say my
name,” he said. “Ask me right.” Still inside her, he stopped and waited as the realization
dawned on her. This was a fun game. Which one of them would ruin it first? Which one
wanted it more?
Eyes still slammed shut, the look of desperation on Jenny’s face grew with each passing
heartbeat, it was Jenny (of course) who caved. “Daddy! Pull my hair, Daddy!
Pleasepleaseplease pull my hair, Daddy! Please!” Smiling, he resumed thrusting and obliged.
Things reached a fever pitch a few seconds later. Jenny reached up and grabbed the back of
Devin’s head, going for a kiss. He resisted. Make her work for it.
“DADDY! PLEEEEEEASE!” That last ‘Daddy’ did it. In one giant symphony of passion and
lust, the two lovers orgasmed in unison, with Devin collapsing in a heap on top of her before
rolling over.
Jenny was panting. “I love you,” she said, as she peppered him with kisses, each one a
separate little ‘I love you’ declaring her devotion for him. He took her gorgeous blonde hair and
played with it; wrapping around his fingers.
“Well…all right then,” he replied. Smug. Satisfied. Content. Rather like a lizard basking on a
warm rock. That’s how Devin felt, and he rather liked it.
Jenny, of course, ruined the moment. “What?” she asked. “What do you mean ‘Alright then’?”
She drew up and away from him, taking her golden tresses with her.
Devin sat up from his spot on the motel bed. “You know…” he said, lamely. He always hated
this part. “I mean I accept your love and you for feeling it. What’s so wrong with that?”
“Do you love me?” Jenny asked, already beginning to pick her clothes up off the worn carpet
floor. That was the problem with younger women: They were quick to fuck, yes, but they were
quick to get attached too.
Devin had figured that her being an unpaid intern at his office meant she would have kept this
professional. He’d buy her nice things, take her out to expensive ‘working lunches’, give her the
cushiest jobs, and he’d get a little action on the side. A bit of a tits-for-tat arrangement. He
hadn’t gone all ‘Fifty-Shades’ on her and ironed out all the rules or made her sign an NDA; but
wasn’t the age old Social Contract good enough? Apparently not.
“Do? You? Love? Me?” she repeated.
“You’re really, really fun,” Devin offered.
“That’s not the same!” she screeched.
Still naked, Devin pre-emptively leaned against the door. It wouldn’t do to have Jenny running
out all upset.
“What am I to you?” Jenny asked. “What is this? Who am I?”
Devin shrugged, nonchalantly. “My lover?”
“You have to love someone to be lovers.” Apparently to be someone’s lover, you had to love
them these days. Who knew? “When are you going to tell Anna?”
That caught him off guard. “Anna?”
“Your wife?” Obviously, he knew who Anna was, but how did Jenny know? His look must have
said enough. “I’ve been your errand girl these last six months, asshole. I helped file your tax
returns!”
Time to take a different approach. “Look,” he said, “you’re right. You’re absolutely right.” He
held up his hands in a kind of condescending calming gesture. “My marriage is failing- has
failed- big time, and it’s not fair to you. I’m just…working some stuff out.”
“Like what?”
Devin scratched the back of his crew-cut head. How to bail out? “Tomorrow’s Mother’s Day.”
“So? You don’t have kids,” Jenny said. Then she spat, “Not that you claim anyways.” This
being his first major affair, barring a prostitute or two in cities far away, Derek wasn’t sure if she
should feel insulted at that insinuation.
“Yeah,” Devin said. “But she’s trying to get pregnant, and I feel like it’d be really shitty to break it
to her tomorrow.”
His intern looked thoughtful for a moment. “Why break it to her? What if we just ran off? You
could just not come home tonight.”
Tenderly, he stepped up and took her in his arms, planting a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Oh,
baby girl,” he said. “I am way too old for that eloping shit.” She pulled away. He stopped her.
She didn’t struggle further. Point made on both ends. “How about we talk about this in a couple
of days? After Mother’s Day?”
The word ‘Mother’ seemed to trigger something in Jenny. With her big beautiful baby blue eyes
she looked up and asked, “Do you want kids?”
Uh oh. The only thing scarier to Devin than his wife knowing about his mistress was his
mistress wanting kids like his wife. “No!” he said a little too quickly. “Not with Anna, anyways.
With you, though?” He let the sentiment linger. It wasn’t lying if he didn’t finish the thought.
“We’ll talk about it after tomorrow?” Jenny asked, leaning back into his chest. God, he felt so
strong next to her.
“Right after tomorrow,” he said. By then, maybe he could find a way to break off this mess.
(Today)
Tied down to the matted changing table, Devin craned his neck to make eye contact with the
ringleader of this crazy little cult. Some primal instinct deep inside of him recognized the look in
her eye. They were going to kill him. His heart wouldn’t stop, but everything that he was,
everything that he had been up until yesterday would be effectively erased. It was murder that
left a babbling, drooling, pants pooping corpse.
If they were going to kill him, he’d at least spit in both Anna and this Susan bitch’s smug little
face. Audibly, he hocked and gathered spit in his mouth. Let ‘em know it was coming. Show
his defiance up until the very end.
Stupid. That was stupid. A white burping towel was draped over his face before he managed
to even pucker his lips. “It appears as if your baby needs to be burped after his booster shot,”
Devin heard that vampire cunt intone. “He’s about to spit up.” Cruel, tittering laughter came up
in chorus as more so-called Mommies gathered around the last victim of the day. “Happy
Mother’s Day, everyone.”
“Happy Mother’s Day.”
A shiver coursed up the back of Devin’s neck, and a tiny bit of urine dribbled into his new diaper.
There was a certain soullessness that came with that monotone, eerily slow call and response.
“Miss Susan?” a voice, Anna’s, called out from beyond the burp cloth blindfold. “Can I take the
cloth off? There’s something that I’d like my baby boy to see.”
“Of course, Anna dear.”
In the movies, a bag is taken off the head of the condemned and the poor victim can’t help but
look around and blink, their eyes adjusting to the light, their brains reacting to the disorientation
of sudden light. Devin experienced none of this, the white burp cloth being thin enough to let
light little pinpricks of light through; however, look around and blink he did.
A new woman appeared to Miss Susan’s right; one of the slave maids that had been refilling
baby bottles and wine glasses. Holding a silver serving tray- the needle with the golden serum
resting on top-the girl looked passively straight ahead; seeing but not seeing the full-grown man
in the diaper in front of her. What a wretched thing she was, Devin thought to himself.
Unlike the others, she was completely bald, with pale sickly skin that only came from a rare
genetic condition or from being away from the sun for far too long. Like all the maids, she wore
a definitively “adult” diaper: plastic backed, four tapes, and no decorations to speak of beyond a
wetness strip. Unlike the other servants, her diaper was hideously over saturated; more yellow
and brown than white. Poor thing hadn’t been changed in at least a day or two. Her eyes were
hollow with dark circles around them.
Whatever they were about to do to him, what they were doing to her was far worse. Her eyes,
though. Something about those sad, dead eyes. That’s when he’d recognized her. The spit he’d
saved up dripped out of his mouth and onto the plastic mat. “Awww,” one of the Mommies said.
“Poor baby needs a teething ring.” More tittering laughs.
“Jenny?”
Jenny’s eyes didn’t move. “Hey Devin.” Her voice was hollow. Emotionless. Broken.
So many questions; most of which could be answered with one utterance. “How?”
His lover let out an exhausted sigh. “You gave me up. They found me. I’m here now.” Gave
up? Found her? Now? None of these words meant anything to Devin. What was she talking
about?
“You’ll have to forgive him,” Miss Susan said, reaching for the syringe. “Babies have terrible
long-term memory. He probably doesn’t remember the last spanking we gave him, or that he
tattled on you to get it to stop.”
From his lover, to his captor, to his wife, the syringe journeyed from hand to hand to hand.
“What’s that saying?” Anna said, her face pointed toward Devin but her eyes glaring down at a
completely transformed Jenny. “’There’s a special place in Hell for women who don’t help each
other,’ I think it is?”
“Yes, mistress.”
“And?”
There was no life in Jenny’s eyes. She couldn’t cry, so a single tear dripped from Devin’s eye
for her. “Here I am,” Jenny droned.
Devin looked over to his wife. None of this madness made any sense. “Anna, honey, I’m so
confused right now.”
“I know baby,” Anna said. Almost tenderly, she wiped his thigh with an alcohol swab. “This’ll
make it all better. All those lying, cheating, manipulating thoughts will go right out your little
head and you’ll get to be my happy baby boy again. Doesn’t that sound nice?”
“How?” Devin demanded. “How did you manage to do all of this so quickly? Just yesterday, we
were married and everything was normal.”
Everyone, everyone laughed at that; even Jenny.
Susan leaned over and stroked Devin’s wild curls of auburn hair. “Oh, sweet baby boy,” she
cooed as Devin felt the sting of the needle enter his leg. “That was five years ago.”
(“Yesterday”)
The mattress groaned and moaned with each thrust and pump as their pelvises collided, making
a kind of harmony with Anna’s near animalistic grunts. Devin lay naked on his back as Anna
rode him like a pony, encasing his sex with hers. While Devin did his best to lay still as he’d
been told, sucking on his lips and gripping the wrinkled sheets to maintain his composure; Anna
growled with each bounce on his cock. If there was a line between anger and lust, she was
straddling it.
His testicles: they hurt. His balls actually ached at this point. There had been no dinner when he
got home, only fucking. His tie had been ripped off (again) the moment both feet had been
across the threshold as Anna passionately kissed him and pushed him through the kitchen and
into their bedroom. Clothes had become so much snake skin, shed and forgotten by the time
she first mounted him. She’d been wet and grabby and intense; so intense. He was hard and
more than willing to let her do all the work. That had been four orgasms ago.
He’d wanted to rest; to at least get a drink of water; but after round one came round two, and so
on. There was a certain way about her tonight; how she threw herself at him, how she begged
and pleaded while forcing herself on him; a kind of aggression mixed with passion and more
than a hint of desperation that he just couldn’t resist. Each time he came, she’d just keep
grinding up against him and do whatever she could to get his motor running. Fantasies of
threesomes (the good kind) had been hinted at. Promises of anal had been made at one point.
“Come on, baby,” she’d pant. “One more time. Do it for me, baby. Fuck me. Keep fucking me.
I want to fuck your brains out!” Devin had never had time to become soft. His load had been
blown, but Anna was still cocking his shotgun, hurrying along the next release.
Now his balls hurt; feeling like a pair of overstrained muscles, the pleasure for him had stopped
long before she had. It was as if his wife was trying to milk every last bit of sperm out of him.
Shouldn’t have done that extra round with Jenny, he thought to himself. If he knew that “trying
for a baby” would have made Anna this horny, he wouldn’t have had to fool around as much to
get his rocks off. Though now, Anna was practically smashing his rocks into pebbles.
In the back of his mind, he was glad he slipped birth control into her coffee this morning.
Warning: Failure to take could result in up to eighteen years of responsibility. If he wasn’t so
exhausted he’d have chuckled at his own cleverness. His head lulled to the side.
Strong, slender fingers grabbed his chin, forcing him to look directly at his wife. “Say it!” she
growled. “Say my name!”
“Anna! Oh Anna!”
She leaned forward and hissed. “No! Say my name! My other name.”
“Oh baby! Oh-oh-oooooh!” His words were cut off by the palm of her hand covering his lips.
Anna’s eyes were pure raging lust. “No. That’s your name. Say mine!”
“MOMMY!” he cried out.
The top half of her body shot upright. She was the cancer patient at the miracle revival; touched
by God. “Ooooah!” Her hands glided up to her naked chest and she started teasing her nipples;
pinching them and tracing little circles around them.
Finally, he was onto something! Again. “MOMMY!”
“Uhhhhh! YES! YES! YES! Oh BABY! YES!”
Devin smiled and crowed. “I LOVE you MOMMY!” That did it. Anna started slowing down,
writhing as she climaxed; her screams erupting above her as she tilted her head ceilingward;
then dying down into low moans and a kind of happy purring. Devin exhaled in relief as she
(finally) dismounted.
But she did not collapse into him, nuzzling his chest, as she so often did after coitus. “Good
baby,” she said softly. “Very good.” Was she talking to him, or to the baby she thought was
(but wouldn’t be) coming from their coupling? Devin didn’t know and didn’t much care. Right
now, all he wanted was sleep. It was only with the slightest bit of guilt that he rolled to his side,
turning his back to Anna while she riffled in the hope chest she kept next to her side of the bed.
“That’s right, baby,” he heard her whisper. “Just go right to sleep. Mommy will take care of the
rest.”
She was taking this ‘Mommy’ thing a little far, wasn’t she? It was kind of a turn-off, now that he
thought about it. Whatever. It was a phase she was going through, Devin knew. Now, it was
time for sleep. He closed his eyes. His lids were so heavy.
He barely felt that little prick in his right cheek. The sound of the crinkle didn’t register in his
brain, nor did the feeling of the extra layer of padding that had been slipped beneath his bum as
Anna rolled him back over. Eyes still closed, he arched an eyebrow when he felt something
pulled up between his legs and wrap around his hips. He should have been wondering, but he
was too tired for even idle speculation.
He’d figure out what was going on when he woke up tomorrow.
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Hi lovelies. After many inquiries the past year, I’m offering commissions. If you’ve been keen on nabbing one from me now’s your chance. Just click the form linked to learn how!
But please note commissions are not first come, first serve: https://goo.gl/forms/23KmrWJqaGqTm1aw1
One of our contributors is offering commissions! They are also offering a discount deal for CushyPen subscribers. Please visit their form above to learn more.
Here’s my contribution for Cinco De Sammy, featuring Sammy in some cute Skull Kid cosplay~! But it seems just like Majora’s Mask, this outfit also has some curses to it, forcing Sammy to fill her diapers and a ghostly smack to her padded bottom! I hope Sammy enjoys looking forward to some more supernatural shenanigans as long as she wears that outfit~!
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Here’s the pic I did for yesterday’s Sammy stream! It was a fun day with a chill group of people; thanks to everyone who stopped by. There will probably be a compilation post at http://cushypen.tumblr.com, so be sure to head over there in a few days to see what other people came up with. There was some really great stuff!
On the 5th of May at Noon PST a selection of our artists will be participating in a multi-stream event featuring the community member BestSammy. This is a voluntary tribute stream. The artists participating are individually electing to chip in to this communal gift. What originally began back in the Fall as a two person idea has blossomed into sixteen artists signing on to take turns streaming their gifts. As such, the number of participants may still increase in the coming days.
More often than not, artists share the same commissioners. We call these 'regulars'. Sammy is one such regular, and many on staff have done work for BestSammy.
Regulars are the backbone for the art community at large, too. Without routine commissions not only would TCP artists be struggling to make ends meet, the entire community as a whole would suffer. Regardless of the subjects and themes contained within a piece, regardless of whether the characters depicted are crowdpleasers or have limited niche appeal, everyone (viewers and artists alike) benefits from every single commission produced.
Without regulars the quality and quantity of art we see on a daily basis whilst browsing would be greatly reduced. Without regulars gallery purges would be more frequent. Without regulars artists wouldn't (as frequently) think outside the box, streamline their processes, and seek ways to work smarter (not just harder).
Regulars provide the community stability.
Each regular an artists shares with another artist forces them to buckle down and hold themselves to a higher standard; much more than they would if gone unpaid and permanently left to their own devices. Because regulars also breed friendly competition!
But this tribute is more than just a display of appreciation toward one of our most generous and dependable regulars; it's a show of solidarity. It's a celebration of experience.
We, as artists, also identify with our most prolific regulars.
Art is fantasy fulfillment. It's the safest form of escapism--in theory. And every single artist can relate to being ostracized, analyzed, pedestaled and pigeon-holed just for actualizing what they desire. Artists pick up the pen because they have needs, commissioners become regulars because they have needs, and viewers keep their eyes fixed to the screen (searching, waiting) because they hope to find their needs met, too.
The unwanted, unintentional spotlight Sammy receives for buying what they need is the one we artists can't escape, either. Perpetually.
So, comrades, please join us on May 5th at Noon PST for Drinks, Drawing, Diapers, and Cinco de Sammy.
We hope to do more events like this in the future!
Some of these are finished on the site. The completed versions will be shared in 6 months from now (along with a few not previewed in this batch). Thank you so much to everyone who requested and came out to support our stream. We reached record highs for participants and viewers: 150+ individuals requesting (totaling over 200 submitted requests) and 70+ unique, registered picarto users.
Our next event will be held on the 5th of May in honor of a beloved community member. This individual has remained a staunch supporter of the creative side of the ABDL community via commissions, contributions, and friendships for many years now. Twelve artists (thus far) will be streaming during this event. There will be no public requests taken at this time - except from the individual we are honoring. Additional information about this stream will be shared next week.
We WILL be opening the public request form again soon, however. So stay tuned!
To receive more requests and view more art, please subscribe to CushyPen by clicking here.
If you’ll be attending Capcon tonight @34qucker will be in attendance handing out these goodiebags on our behalf. Inside the bags will be a raffle ticket for a chance to win a pin-up from Cushypen by 34qucker! Two winners will be selected. Please make sure you follow the instructions provided on the back of your raffle ticket to enter.
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