30s | Urinary Incontinent | Married | He/Him
I write humiliating diaper captions. They are pure fantasy. Treat them as such.
If you want longer stories, go to my story blog: @destinedfordiaperstories
Have you ever been on my blog and just wanted to find some ddlg or mdlg captions, but didn't want to wade through mdlb captions?
You're in luck! Now you don't have to. I put them all here in this post.
Since this is pinned, if you, the person reading this, are looking for my mdlb captions, here is the MDLB Diaper Boy Compendium.
There is also my story blog, @destinedfordiaperstories, where you'll find longer stories. And, of course, my all-time favorite story, Sammy's Little Problem.
I labeled them as DDlg, MDlg, or M+D for both Mommy and Daddy doms.
And put a brief description of the caption. Anything with Cuckquean is labeled, as some love it, while others hate it.
The Chilies are a humiliation measurement. Five chilies means you want pure humiliation. One chili means it's a sweeter, loving caption. Squirmies can be found at every chili level.
Anyway, like this so you can always find what you're looking for.
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I feel such a connection with Sammy and I just had to say that your writing is phenomenal. As someone who works a very professional job and also is a little who is also incontinent. Itâs an interesting dichotomy. Please donât stop this. Please keep writing. đŤśđŤśđŤśđŤś
Iâm so happy to hear youâre enjoying it! I donât want to say Sammy was written specifically for us incontinent folks, because itâs not just for us. But I wonât lie, it makes me happiest when those who have dealt with it reads it and understands it!
And donât worry, I fully intend to finish it, even if I never wrote another caption, this story will be finished.
This caption is for @baby-bear-den! I hope you enjoy it!
I smile as the front door opens. This is my favorite part of the day.
As always, youâre wearing your favorite big girl costume: a fancy white lab coat covering your chic clothes. Nobody would ever guess what you truly are. Or what youâre hiding under all those fancy clothes.
But I know.
For the few hours you leave the house, you get to pretend you have everything a diaper girl like you lacks. Power. Authority. Respect. Itâs well-deserved, Iâll readily admit. You earned it. Not only do your colleagues respect you, but your subordinates fear you.
It makes me laugh every time I think about it. If they only knew.
âHi, Daddy!â you chirp, walking over to me to let me check your diaper.
âHi, sweetie!â I respond, removing your lab coat and feeling the soggy diaper under your clothes, âhow was your day?â
Itâs the contrast I love so much. Listening to you ramble on about roleplaying as big girl while you obediently lift your arms so I can remove your shirt. On and on you go. All the while, I strip you of your big girl costume, replacing them with clothes much more suited to your authentic self.
You continue rambling on about your âbig girlâ life, even as youâre standing in nothing but your soggy diaper. Itâs adorable. But not as adorable as the onesie I put you in, delightfully colorful and covered in all kinds of barnyard animals.
Perfect for you.
I shove your paci in your mouth when I finish buttoning your onesie, stopping your adorable rambling midsentence. Iâm done listening. You may command a room there, but not here.
Iâll never get tired of the look on your face when the paci silences you. Itâs the look of a woman caught between two worlds. The moment you truly understand whatever happens outside of the house is nothing but a mirage. You arenât the well-respected, highly competent biologist you think you are. Not at home.
Here youâre nothing more than Mommy and Daddyâs diaper girlâour plaything. You never have beenâand never will beâin charge. Not over us, not over your own life. Your place is filling your diapers for us, adorably begging for changes, desperately wishing you could join our adult fun.
I carry you to your playpen, playing Doc McStuffins, before heading to the kitchen to make dinner. You may supervise others out there, but here you are supervised. The only thing you supervise here are the stuffies scattered around your playpen.
Someone walks into the kitchen. I turn around, preparing to scold you for leaving your playpen, only to find my girlfriend smiling back at me.
âHey babe, how was your bath?â I ask, kissing her.
âAmazing, I love those new bath bombs,â she replies, âdo I hear Doc McStuffins? Sheâs home early!â
âYep, she got home a few minutes ago!â
I watch as she approaches your playpen, kissing you on the forehead. She picks you up and carries you back into the kitchen, sitting you in your high chair at the table.
Your face still burns in embarrassment whenever youâre locked into your highchair. I have no idea how we went so long without it. You look so cute in it, especially when Mommy puts your bib on you.
For the next twenty minutes, you sit in silence, listening to Mommy and Daddy talk about our day. We make an effort to ignore you, all to make you feel even more little. Besides, adults donât want or need a baby to talk about her day.
Once dinner is ready, Mommy prepares a plate for you, cutting your chicken into bite-sized pieces and filling your cute Disney Princess plate with all your num-nums.
Mommy playfully feeds you before we eat, your face burning brighter every time she says, âhere comes the choo choo train! Open up for Mommy!â When youâre finished, your face is smeared with mac and cheese, your bib dirty from all your âoopsiesâ as you clumsily spilled your food.
As we eat, I notice you fidgeting in your seat. Iâm careful not to draw any attention to it. I know whatâs about to happen. I surreptitiously prod my girlfriend, letting her in on your potty dance. Youâre staring off into space, desperatelyâand fruitlesslyâtrying to avoid packing your pampers at the dinner table.
You continue to squirm, no doubt wondering why weâre still at the table long after we finished eating. I couldnât help but laugh seeing the relief on your face as we finished eating, believing youâd be freed from your plastic prison before loading your diaper only for the relief to vanish, replaced with renewed terror, as I sat back down after cleaning the dishes, continuing my conversation.
The cutest toot, slightlyâand adorablyâmuffled by your soggy diaper, escapes into the room. You whimper as our conversation stops, our undivided attention on your endearing display in your highchair.
âAre you making a stinky for us, baby?â Mommy asks rhetorically.
âMmmmphfff!â you unintentionally respond, your body tightening to fill your diaper.
Your legs, once freely swaying in boredom, are now rigid and unmoving. You unconsciously grab the plastic of your highchair, fingers white, as you grip for leverage to push. Your eyes are wide, full of humiliation.
More toots escape into your diaper.
Finally, with one loud grunt, your diaper visibly expands, crinkling as it does.
âGood girl,â Mommy coos, âget all those ickies into your diaper, little one!â Your face somehow manages to grow an even darker shade of red.
You struggle for a few more minutes, your diaper occasionally expanding as you push the mess out. Itâs adorable.
âAll done, kiddo?â I ask, unlocking the highchair, âyou did such a great job filling your diapee for us!â
âC-can I hab changies?â you whimper through your paci.
âNot yet, little one,â Mommy answers, âitâs almost your bedtime and I want to spend some time with you, baby!â
You look up at me pleadingly. I laugh. âSorry, kiddo, Iâm with Mommy on this one!â
I pick you up, carrying you over to the couch. I sit beside Mommy, gently laying you on your back across our laps.
Mommy tickles your tummy, causing you to laugh despite your embarrassment. âSuch a cutie patootie we have! Daddy and I are so proud of you!â Mommy coos.
âThatâs right, sweetie! I donât know how we got so lucky! We have the cutest baby in the whole world! Even if she is stinky! Pee yew!!â
âCan you say âIâm the cutest, stinkiest pamper packer in the whole world!â for us, baby?â Mommy asks.
You nervously suck on your paci. âI-Iâm da cudest, stinkwiesthâŚp-pam-pamper packa in da âho world," you stammer, faced flushed in embarrassment.
âYes you are! Yes you are!â Mommy chirps proudly, âyouâre the smartest baby in the whole world too! I donât think thereâs another baby who knows as much about animals as you!â
You stare back at Mommy, knowing the humiliating game thatâs about to start.
âYes you do, sweetie!â Mommy continues, âcan our widdle scientist tell us what sound a cow makes?â
You squirm in embarrassment.
âYou can do it, little one!â Mommy prods, âtell Mommy and Daddy what a cow sounds like!â
âM-moo,â you answer meekly.
âSurely you can do better than that!â I add, tickling your tummy, âtry again, silly!â
âHAHAHA Daddy! It tickwes!!â you plead, squirming around, diaper crinkling wildly.
âWell, tell me what a cow says, silly!â
âMOOOOOOO!â you scream, still laughing after I stop.
âThatâs right, baby!â Mommy says, âso smart! What about a pig?â
âOINK OINK OINK!â you squeal, starting to have fun despite your humiliation.
âGood job, kiddo!â I gush, âhow about a frog?â
âWIBBIT! WIBBIT! WIBBIT!â you chorus, proud of yourself.
âGood girl!â Mommy sings, âwhat about a duck?â
âKWAK KWAK KWAK!â you lisp, violently blushing.
âSo good!â I congratulate her, âbut this is the hardest one yet! What does a baby say before bedtime?â
The smile fades from your face, âb-b-but I âon wanna go ni ni Daddy! I wanâ stay wif Mommy and Daddy!â
âNo buts, silly,â Mommy says sternly, âMommy and Daddy want to have some fun, and I gotta get you into a fresh diapee before you stink up the house!â
âWha-no, PWEASE daddy!â you beg me, knowing Iâm much more persuadable than Mommy.
Before I can answer, Mommy flashes you a dangerous look. âWhat did I say?â
You hiccup in fear. âT-that itâs b-bedtime, Mommy,â you answer dejectedly.
âThatâs right, silly. Now say good night to Daddy, little one,â Mommy chides.
âG-goodnight, Daddy,â you whine.
âGoodnight, sweetie,â I say, kissing your forehead.
The last thing I see before you turn the corner is your pleading eyes over Mommyâs shoulder as she carries you to the changing table. I canât help but smile at how adorable you are.
You may think youâre a big girl, but we know better. Youâre right where you belong.
In another post you said you kept the descriptions of Sammy and Allie vague for the reader. But Iâm wondering if the same is for the location because you use Stanford and USC so is it set in California?
I think the location for Sammy is vague-adjacent. Because I havenât explicitly put a location, butâŚyeah itâs set in Los Angeles.
I just moved for graduate school in a very prestigious medical program and... reading your story, Sammy's Little Problem, made me cry so hard. Especially after reading why you wrote it. I've struggled for a very long time accepting myself as a little when I am generally a successful, independent, and stable person outside of it. It sparked some intimate, emotional conversations between me and my caregiver/boyfriend.
Thank you for that and the work you do as a lawyer. I have family struggling with immigration/ICE despite them legally living here from before I was born. Furthermore, I obviously do not know you at all personally, but seeing your steadfastness in your morals (from all the crazy asks/messages you receive) is inspiring. You showing your different facets has helped me think about how I have many of my own.
No pressure to reply at all to this ask. I just wanted to let you know your writing and work is appreciated from afar!
Iâm so glad you could connect with it! I can see how you would too, toeing the line between being competent and independent enough to make it to med school, yet also have a kink that seemingly demands the opposite of that. Must be hard to reconcile and thatâs before any of the usual shame/emotions that come with it.
But hopefully those conversations went well and youâll have a golden age of exploration and integration!
And Iâm so sorry your parents are caught up in all the horrible stuff, itâs just terrible whatâs happening. Hopefully they resolve everything soon. Iâve said it before and Iâll say it again.
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For potential fan art reasons, are you able to give more details about what Sammy, Allie, and Lindsey look like (ie height, hair style, skin tone, build, accessories, glasses, etc)?
To be honest, I don't even know what they look like! Which was intentional.
I've always described Sammy and Allie as vaguely as possible so the reader can create their own details about them. I want every Little to see themselves as Sammy, and picture Allie as whatever "the perfect caregiver" looks like to them. It makes the whole thing cozier and more personal.
So for the art, there's no wrong answer. However you see them in your head is exactly right!
Allie slowed her pace to check her phone when they reached a fork in the foot path.
âIt must be that one over there,â she says, pointing to a five-story building swarming with people. âIâll let everyone know weâre here.â
Sammy nodded, staring at the crowd.
She always loved USCâs campus, having been her second choice after Stanford. And today it was buzzing with palpable, electric energy, with the epicenter being the dorms.
A steady flow of people trickled inside, arms full of suitcases, Target bags full of supplies, and college-aged kids taking it all in. Elsewhere, parents hugged their children before leaving them for their first day of college.
âLindsay is coming down to meet us. How are you feeling, Sammy? Doing good?â
âY-yeah, Iâm okay.â
Sammy was grateful Allie did her best to minimize the obviousness of Sammyâs Little status. Between her jeans and Stanford t-shirt, Sammy didnât look out of place. She even thought her diaper bulge wasnât as obvious as normal.
Even the diaper bag Allie chose wasnât immediately identifiable as one. More like an oversized bag that nobody would guess held her diapers, pacifier, and changing supplies.
Before they left, Allie promised Sammy that she would try to be as discreet as possible out of respect for this big step, but that didnât mean that Sammy should expect a hall pass from being a Little.
Allie rubbed Sammyâs back, guiding her to the dorms. âYou got this Sammy. Iâll be right here if you need me.â
âThanks, Allie.â
As they approached the building and the conversations got louder, Sammy watched a group of girls huddling in a circle, animatedly talking about something enjoyable.
One of the girls was wearing the Zara skirt that Sammy had in her shopping cart online the day before she was Classified. It looked even better in person. Sammy understood why she carried herself with such confidence.
What Sammy would give to be the girl in the circle, wearing that skirt, unburdened by the tyranny of her diaper.
âSammy!â Lindsay shouted, running over to them.
Her shout drew far more attention to Sammy than she would have liked, especially when Sammy wrapped her in a bear hug.
âIâm so glad you came!â
âWouldnât miss it for the world, Linds!â
Sammy had barely escaped Lindsayâs clutches when Carol and Henry swooped in to greet her.
Carol hugged Sammy, too. âHello, dear. It means the world to Lindsay that you came.â
âThatâs what family does!â
Henry smiled at Sammy. âAinât that the truth!â
A mother near Sammy caught Sammyâs eye and smiled. Not the cursory, polite smile made in passing to strangers in a crowd. No, it was softer than that. Her mouth and eyes pressed into something gentle and sad, haunted by the ghost of a grimace.
For a second, Sammy thought she might say something. But the moment passed. Just a smile held a beat too long.
The mother turned back to her daughter and squeezed her shoulder as if to say count yourself lucky.
Sammy stared at her shoes.
She had braced herself for the stares. Expected whispers. Laughter. Even disgust.
But somehow the way the woman looked at herâlike Sammy was a baby bird chirping in its nestâwas worse.
She didnât want to fight back. She wanted to disappear.
âWanna see my room? I need your touch to decorate it.â
âSure!â Sammy answers, trying to sound unfazed by the onlookers.
âWeâll meet you up there,â Henry says. âSomeoneâs gotta carry all your things upstairs.â
Allie grabs Sammyâs elbow, sensing an opportunity. âDo you want to go alone with Lindsay?â
Sammy nods excitedly. âCan I?â
âSure, but stick with Lindsay, okay? I wonât be gone long.â
âIâll be fine!â Sammy assures her, cheeks flushed.
âDonât worry, Allie, I got her,â Lindsay says, pulling Sammy towards the entrance.
Sammy let herself be pulled, reveling in the opportunity to be alone. Who would think sheâs a Little without a Caregiver watching over her?
âAllie is probably jealous because they destroyed the old athletic dorms she stayed in like a year after she graduated. These are much nicer.â
Lindsay was not wrong, Sammy thought. Entering the foyer, Sammy wouldâve believed it was a resort, not a dorm.
âBest part is, Iâm on the first floor. No stairs!â
As they walked down the hall, Sammy looked inside the dorms as they passed. Most doors were open, with people walking in and out and getting to know their floormates.
Each room was its own little world. It took no effort to determine which had boys living in it and which had girls.
The first room she passed, Sammy saw a poster of Bob Marley next to a poster of John Belushi drinking a bottle of Jack Daniel's in a sweater that said âCollege.â
Definitely not a girl's room.
The next room was mostly white with tasteful pops of pastel highlights and lace curtains. Elegant. Feminine. One Sammy would happily live in.
Whenever the occupants noticed them walking by, they waved or smiled. One already knew Lindsay by name, though that didnât surprise Sammy.
Lindsay was always a social butterfly.
But the farther they got from the loud, chaotic entrance, the quieter the hallway got. Every step forcing Sammy to wonder if anyone else could hear what was so loud to her.
Crinkle. Crinkle. Crinkle.
Her diaper seemed determined to blow the cover she was thoroughly enjoying.
Sammy slowed to a snailâs pace as a boy carrying a heavy-looking box passed them by, smiling at them both.
âIâm in room 32A, come say hi!â he said to both of them.
When he was out of earshot, Lindsay whispered in Sammyâs ear. âYouâre fine, Sammy. Nobody can hear you.â
âH-how did you know? Am I really that loud?â
âNo, silly. Youâre just walking like a penguin. So, it was either that or you had an accident. And I donât smell anything.â
âVery funny.â
âJust get out of your head and enjoy yourself. Besides, we're here.â
Lindsay walked through the open door.
âTa da!â
The room was only half decorated, but it already had Lindsayâs fingerprints all over it: creamy whites with flourishes of forest green everywhere.
Sammy was so focused on the Lindsay side of the room, she didnât notice the two bunk beds to her right. Or the two girls sitting on the bottom bunk.
âHey, Lindsay! Your parents leave already?â
âOh, no, theyâre grabbing some more things from the car. I went to meet my friend here. Sam, meet my roommates, Cecilia and Jasmine.â
âNice to meet you, Sam,â Jasmine said. âOh, you got into Stanford?â
Sammy beamed with pride but was terrified of any follow-up questions. Questions that she didnât want to answer.
âUgh, donât remind me,â Lindsay answered for her. âI was secretly hoping sheâd have to come here so weâd be roommates.â
Lindsay laughed before adding, âNot that I mind you guys!â
âGood save,â Cecilia added, laughing.
Neither asked any more questions about Stanford, content to show Sammy their plans for the dorm, having apparently discussed their designs before moving in.
Sammy was more than happy to let them. She couldnât remember the last time she had a normal conversation that wasnât tainted by being Little.
She did her best to show how thankful she was to Lindsay in furtive, appreciative glances.
For the first time in months, she felt like an adult. One of the girls. A college student like Lindsay.
Maybe Allie will realize how independent Sammy was after this. That she didnât actually constant supervision. That she could have some independence from Caregivers.
Lindsayâs phone buzzed. She made a show of laughing at it, like it was an inside joke that Sammy needed to see.
âYou have to see this, Sam!â she said, showing Sammy a text.
It was from Allie. âHowâs Sammy? She doing okay? Let me know if she needs me to come get her.â
Sammyâs heart drops. Somehow she was still being treated like a Little by phone.
âThatâs hilarious Linds! But a hard pass for me.â
Lindsay nodded, understanding the meaning and texted Allie.
Sammy tried not to dwell on it. Even if hearing Lindsay and her roommates talk about college parties, boys, and social lives caused a pang of jealousy, they were also giving her something special.
Being treated as an equal. An adult.
Not a Little who needed to be cared for.
There was only one problem.
Sammy felt pressure building in her stomach. She knew what it meant.
And was determined to fight it. To prove she wasnât a Little. Not here. Not right now.
She looked at Lindsay, eyes begging for a savior.
But she was too deep in a conversation about the parties tonight to notice her best friend strugglingâŚ
This is a fanfic of @destinedfordiapers story about Sammy. You can read chapter one here.
Sammy had been glued to Alex's side all morning.
Not in a way that begged for attention. She just seemed... off. Quieter than usual. Every now and then she'd rub at her stomach or shift like she couldn't get comfortable.
Alex noticed
"You okay, sweetheart?"
She shrugged, leaning against him. "My tummy hurts."
"Cramps?"
"I don't know. Maybe."
He rested a hand on the back of her neck and kissed her forehead.
"Tell me if it gets worse."
"I will."
She meant to.
But about an hour later, she felt something... different.
She slipped away to the nursery, telling herself she was probably imagining it. Maybe she'd just leaked. Maybe she needed a fresh diaper
She wasn't supposed to change herself. That was one of the rules. Alex always took care of her.
But she didn't want to bother him if it was nothing.
By the time she'd gotten the tapes undone, her stomach was in knots.
There was blood.
Her heart dropped.
"No..."
She stared at it for a long second, her mind refusing to catch up.
Had she hurt herself? Had something happened? Why hadn't she noticed?
She grabbed a clean diaper with shaking hands, trying to figure out what to do.
"...Sammy?"
Alex's voice came from the hallway.
She froze.
"I'm in here."
Her voice sounded much smaller than she'd meant it to.
The door opened a second later.
His eyes flicked from her face to the diaper sitting on top of the bin.
Understanding crossed his face almost immediately.
"Oh, sweetheart."
The tears she'd been holding back spilled over.
"I'm sorry.â
He didn't even acknowledge the apology.
Instead, he crossed the room and took both of her hands.
"You are not in trouble."
"I changed myself."
"I know."
"I broke the rule."
"You did."
She looked at him, waiting.
There was no disappointment in his face. No frustration. Just concern.
"You were scared," he said softly. "That changes things."
She let out a shaky breath.
"I think something is wrong."
He gave her hands a little squeeze.
"There isn't."
She frowned.
"But... there's blood."
"It's your period."
She blinked.
Then blinked again.
"...Oh."
He watched the realization settle in.
"My first one..." she murmured. "...since I becameâŚâ
"Became an L2, yeahâ
"I completely forgot."
A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"I figured."
She huffed out a laugh through the last of her tears.
"That's really unfair."
"It is."
He brushed his thumb across her cheek.
"But next time?" He said to her
She nodded.
"You come get me."
"Even if I think it's nothing?"
"Especially then."
"And even if I'm scared?"
His answer came without hesitation.
"Especially then."
She leaned into him, finally letting herself relax as he wrapped his arms around her.
"I'll take care of it," he murmured.
"Thank you."
"And for the record..."
She looked up.
"You weren't in trouble the second I walked through that door and saw that diaper."
She smiled then. A real one.
"There she is."
He kissed the top of her head before reaching for a fresh diaper
"Now come here, sweetheart. Let's get you cleaned up."
âSorry, honey, I deal with enough poop as it is.â
Sammy glared at Allie, who returned it with a smile.
The small, thin plastic bag was all that was about to separate Sammyâs hand from Kayaâs warm, stinky poop.
Inspiration struck Sammy. âYou know, poop is a great fertilizer. I bet if we leave it, weâll have the best lawn in the neighborhood!â
âNice try, Sammyâ
Kaya sits next to Sammy, panting happily in the shade of the oak tree.
âProud of yourself, Kaya?â
Sammy reached down and grabbed the poop.
âEw, ew, ew!â
Allie laughed at Sammyâs clumsy, yet ultimately successful, operation.
âOkay, letâs go wash your hands.â
âDonât need to tell me twice!â
Sammy followed Allie inside, while Kaya decided she wanted a few more minutes of sunbathing.
âItâs hot outside,â Sammy said, holding out her hand for Allie to squirt the soap.
With her hands washed, Sammy headed to the couch to enjoy her lazy Saturday morning.
One thing Sammy was grateful forâdespite Allie Little-proofing all the streaming appsâwas that Sammy could still access all the educational documentaries she loved.
And not just the ones for Littles and children.
Scrolling through Netflix, she found an interesting show called âA Trip to Infinity.â Satisfied after watching the trailer, she put it on.
A few minutes later, Allie came into the room holding a basket of laundry.
âThis is what you watch for fun? My brain hurts and itâs only been 30 seconds!â
âItâs fascinating.â
âIâll take your word for it,â Allie said walking away.
Sammy was so focused on the show, she shook when someone knocked on the door.
She stared at the door, unsure if she should open it or wait for Allie. She was saved the trouble.
âI wonder who that could be?â Allie opened the door.
âTo what do we owe the pleasure?â Allie asked.
âJeez, a sister canât drop by unannounced to say hello? Way to make a girl feel welcome!â
Everyone laughed as Allie let Lindsay in and shut the door.
Lindsay saw Sammyâs show and giggled. âSome things never change, eh?â She sat next to Sammy.
Sammy knew Lindsay long enough to know she was excited about something, but looking for an opening.
She gave it to her. âSo, whatâs up, Linds?â
âWell, I wanted to see if you and Allie wanted to come help me move into my dorm on Monday since itâll be harder to hang out for a while.â
Sammy recognized the pure joy on Lindsayâs face, the excitement of starting her next chapter in life. She understood it. Understood why she wanted her best friend there for it.
And understood that she didnât mean to cause the sharp pangs of jealousy and grief tearing through Sammy.
She was happy for Lindsay, of course. Genuinely, authentically happy.
âWhaâ? OhâŚâ Sammy stammered.
It wasnât that Sammy didnât want to be there for Lindsay. She did.
But she should be getting ready to move into her own dormâŚ
Lindsay noticed Sammyâs hesitation, eyes wide with the realization that her question was vastly more emotionally complicated than she expected. She should have known.
âO-only if you want to, of course! IâŚâ she said, looking to Allie for support.
Unlike Lindsay, Allie understood why Sammy would be hesitant. What emotions must be bubbling inside of her.
Maybe it would be better to tell Lindsay they had plans to save Sammy the burden of answeringâlet alone going.
But another voice, stronger and more assured, echoed in her head. Telling her what she knew was true.
Sammy needed to be the one to decide.
âWhat do you think, Sammy?â Allie asks.
Sammy dreaded being on campus, surrounded by peers embarking on their college experience, knowing sheâll never be a part of it.
The alternative scared her more.
What would it mean if she hid from reality in her nursery, protected by the very thing that was stealing her future?
No.
âI-Iâd love to help, Linds!â
Lindsay breathed a sigh of relief before hugging Sammy.
âYay! Thank you so much, Sam! I know it wonât be easy butâŚbut I couldnât imagine doing this without my best friend with me!â
Allie watched Sammy and Lindsay discuss the dorm, the move, and Lindsayâs plan to decorate it. Sammy never ran from the conversation. She had never been prouder of Sammy.
Maybe Sammy can make it to Stanford after all.
Lindsay stayed another hour before Allie hinted that it was almost nap time. Not wanting to make it seem obvious, Lindsay came up with an excuse about packing.
âBye guys, see you Monday!â
With Lindsay gone, Allie sat next to Sammy.
âAre you sure youâre ready for this? I can tell Lindsay something came up, I know it will be difficult after everythingâŚâ
âIâm sure, Allie. IâŚI need to do it. Even if it sucks.â
âYouâre stronger than you realize, you know that?â
Sammy nodded solemnly. âItâsâŚitâs just how can I make it to Stanford if Iâm too scared to face the world? Why should I be ashamed of who I am?â
Allie saw the determination in Sammyâs eyes. âThatâs a very mature way of thinking about it. Iâm so proud of you, Sammy.â
âBesides, daycare canât be worse than being on a college campus, with people my age, as a Little, right? If I can do this, I can do anything!â
âOh, yes. Youâre absolutely right. Are you excited about daycare? In two weeks, you start your own college journey. It may not be the same as Lindsayâs, but itâs yours.â
âY-yeahâŚI think so,â Sammy answered with far less confidence than before.
âThink so?â
âWellâŚI want to show everyone Iâm not just a Little, that Iâm still the same person that got accepted into StanfordâŚâ
âIs there a but in that sentence?â
âI read the Littleâs Preparatory Academy welcome packet you left on the counter and⌠well, did you see the supply list for the first day? Markers, crayons, stickers, and glue sticks!â
âI did, yes. I know it looks odd, but this is where Stanford recommends for you. It must be good if they chose it, right?â
âI guessâŚâ
âSammy, look at me. You can do this. I believe in you. And even if you change your mind, Iâll love you just as much, got it?â
âChange my mind? Never. Iâll show them; Iâll be the best student the Littleâs Preparatory Academy has ever seen. Itâll be no different from high school. Well, except forâŚyou know.â
Allie laughs, hiding the anxiety from Sammyâs determination to continue down the path. Not because she doesnât believe in Sammy, but because she sees the version of Sammy that would be crushed by the loss of her dream.
âMaybe Lindsay will never help me move into a dorm, but by this time next summer, we will both be college students!â
âI donât doubt it for a second. ButâŚâ
âBut?â
âNext summer is a long way away. Itâs already past naptime.â
âIâm not tired, Allie! Please can I finish my show? Please?â
Allie sighs. âFine, but unlike the infinity, you still have a finite amount of time before I put you down.â
Sammy sticks out her tongue. âSo funny!â
Ten minutes later, Sammy is fast asleep when Allie picks her up and deposits her into her crib after changing her diaper.
Sammy let herself drift to the bottom of the pool, enjoying the temperature and the silence of being underwater. For a few fleeting moments, Sammy could almost believe she was free for the first time since her Classification.
Down there, under the water, it was easy to pretend she was alone, with nobody to tell her what to do, or to be careful, or to dote on her.
Nobody to remind her she was a Little.
The reprieve was short-lived as her lungs begged for air.
âSammy! Sammy! Look!â Hannah squealed the moment she surfaced, waving pool noodles like a trophy.
âIâm sure sheâs seen pool noodles before, Squirt,â Jane chided from the ledge of the pool, her feet dangling in the water. She was clearly enjoying her chance to prove she was responsible.
Unfazed, Hannah swam to Sammy to hand-deliver a noodle. âHere, you take the blue one. The pink one is my favorite!â
âThanks,â Sammy said, taking the noodle.
âWanna play mermaids?â
âWait until Emily comes so we can play together,â Jane insisted.
Hannah huffed but didnât argue. âKayâŚâ
âAnd donât think you donât need to tell me if you have an accident or youâll get in trouble, remember?â
âDuh!â Hannah replied, showing no sign of embarrassment.
âThat goes for you, too, Sammy.â
Sammy nodded, cheeks burning, remembering she was in a swim diaper. She somehow managed to forget. But now that she was focused on it, she wondered how she managed not to notice it.
Watching Sammyâs smile falter, Jane slid into the pool.
âHey, I didnât mean to embarrass you,â Jane whispered. âI guess Iâm used to Hannah not worrying about her diapers.â
Sammy was grateful Jane understood. âThanks. Maybe Hannah is right to not care.â
âNah, sheâs just used to it. Once youâre at daycare for a while and realize youâre not the only one going through this, it gets easier.â
âYeah, daycare is the BEST, Sammy! Itâs so much fun! We get to play all day, and you can be my best friend!â Hannah shouted at the prospect of it.
Hannahâs genuine excitement took Sammy by surprise. It was one thing to accept she was a Little. But how could Hannah love daycare when that was where her dreams of becoming a teacher died?
Yet, Sammy couldnât shake the idea that maybe Hannah was the lucky one. Hannah didnât fret over the future, her past, or anything but the present. She had no reservations about being a Little.
Wasnât there freedom in that? Power even?
Sammy glanced around the pool, studying each person, searching for any evidence to contradict the unmistakable truth: Hannah was the happiest person there.
Why shouldnât Sammy want that for herself?
She spends so much energy worrying about how people see herâŚand for what? It wonât help her stop being a Little.
All she had to do was let go.
Sammy realized Hannah never stopped talking about daycare.
âAnd the playground has three slides! And thereâs a tower where we play Knights and Princesses! You could be a Princess!â
âThe most beautiful princess in all the land!â Sammy said in her most regal voice.
âMhm! And and your Knight in Shining Armor can save you from the dragons!â Hannah added, excited that Sammy was engaging.
A twang of sadness hit Sammy at the thought that a boyâanother Little like herâwould be that Knight in Shining Armor.
But Sammy resisted, determined to stop herself from another pity party.
Not today.
She looked at Hannah's expectant face, eager to play, and decided that for today, at least, she would let herself enjoy the moment. What harm would there be in being Little for the afternoon? She can worry about everything else later.
Sheâs earned a day of fun.
âMy Knight will be the most gallant in the kingdom! Heâll protect his Princess from 100 dragons if he has to!â
At a table a few feet away, Kendra tops off Alyssa and Lindaâs wine. Linda had just sat back down, her face reflecting the exasperation of dealing with a little struggling with potty training after months of success.
Kendra raises her glass. âTo the joys of being a Caregiver.â
âNever a dull moment,â Linda agrees.
Allie watches Emily shyly approach the pool.
âPoor thing, she says, âMust be tough having accidents being an L3.â
âWe have a meeting with her Daycare Supervisor on Monday to discuss her accidents. Iâm not sure sheâll like their recommendations very much.â
Kendra nods in agreement. âNope, but itâs what's best for her. Theyâre the best in the business for a reason as youâll see, Allie.â
âIâve heard nothing but rave reviews,â Allie said.
âOh, they work wonders,â Linda agreed. âYou couldnât have chosen a better place to help Sammy.â
âI guess thatâs why Stanford recommended them. Itâs a relief knowing Sammy is in the best place for her to make it through the program.â
Allie couldnât place the look between Kendra and Linda.
âSo, Sammy is still set on Stanford?â
âOh yes, sheâs quite determined. With any luck, sheâll be enrolled for spring semester!â Allie said proudly, as if rebuffing the look.
âWell, a Caregiver's work is never easyâevery Little has their own challenges. Sammy with college, Emily with potty training. You really hit the jackpot with Hannah, Kendra.â
âI wish I could take full credit, but I donât know where we would be if it werenât for the program. Hannah had the same issue, you know. Determined to go to college. So, I understand the anxiety.â
âWhat do you mean?â Allie asked.
âHaving to worry about Sammy failing college courses. Thatâs what makes the program a lifesaver; they really focus on helping Littles accept their regression and avoid all that unnecessary trauma.â
âIâve heard it can be devastating for Littles. I imagine itâll be such a relief when Sammy lets go of Stanford, and you have a sweet Little like Hannah. I got lucky Emily wanted to be an artist. All I needed to help her was a few hundred dollars of art supplies.â
Allie forced a smile, fighting a storm raging inside her. She watched Hannah splash around, giggling.
She wanted Sammy to make it to Stanford, of course. Sammy was her Little; her job as a Caregiver was to help her be happy. The thought of holding a heartbroken Sammy, knowing she would never make it to Stanford, was almost too devastating to imagine.
But deep down, she wondered if Kendra and Linda were right.
Was it not more lovingâcompassionate evenâto guide Sammy away from Stanford? Isnât it her duty to ensure Sammy avoids unnecessary trauma? Would she be a bad Caregiver to even let Sammy try, knowing the odds are stacked against her?
Allie watched Sammy playing mermaids with the girls, lost in thought.
Laughing and out of breath, Sammy and Hannah swam to the ledge, both smiling ear to ear.
For the first time in weeks, Allie saw the same joy that Hannah radiated on Sammyâs face. An authentic, reflexive happiness.
Seeing Sammy embracing the moment, enjoying herself as a Little, Allie let herself imagine a world where Sammy was always this happy, this free, this unburdened. A quiet, aching wish to keep Sammy right here. Laughing and small and safe.
A world where she never has to mend Sammyâs shattered heart from a future determined to crush it.
And the terrible thing, the thing that frightened Allie most, was how much it sounded like love.
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My gift to you was the realization of every single fantasy you ever had.
The opportunity to be Daddyâs diaper girl, spending every moment under my loving, doting care. All the thick, crinkly diapers you ever wanted. All the tender, explosive orgasms from getting fucked on a Sesame Street changing table as a bedazzled pacifier dangled from your onesie.
You never thought about the gift you would one day give me in return. Why would you when you were living the life you used to dream about?
The life you greedily fantasized about as you jackhammered yourself with a vibrator every night.
Which is why you didnât understand why I laughed as you stuttered your way through a well-rehearsed speech about taking a break from diapers.
That you wanted to be a big girl again!
No.
Your gift to me was watching you realize that youâll spend the prime of your life right here in your nursery, drooling from your Paci during a midday nap.
That your version of the profoundly feminine is forever an overworked, tinkle-filled diaper taped around your needy mound, your curves hugged by a soft onesie with cartoon prints on it.
You were never a big girl. Never the sexy, independent woman you thought.
So, I've been posting Sammy's Little Problem on reddit as a way to stash it just in case this blog gets deleted. And it is making me nostalgic.
I frequently say it's my favorite story, but I don't think I've ever explained why. Because on the surface, it's very different from my normal humiliation-focused captions. I mean, it's a story full of littles, caregivers, and regression after all.
Yet, it's also the most authentic expression of my own experience of becoming incontinent, neatly packaged in allegory. It's a story of grieving the life I had planned and reconciling with the feelings that nobody would ever respect me because of the diapers.
Which is why the universe Sammy is set in is so perfect. Stripped of the ABDL decorations, Sammy's universe formalizes involuntary reclassifications that strip away a planned future and reassign you to a diminished category, and you have to find out whether you can still be yourself inside it.
Sammy's grief is my grief. I became incontinent shortly after I became a lawyer. Right on the cusp of living the life I worked so hard for, the same way Sammy lost everything on the cusp of attending her dream school. Being in diapers felt like it negated everything.
The universe let me channel my real emotions, hidden behind allegory, and dress them in an adorable diaper story. They are authentic emotions, deeply vulnerable, but safely distant enough because readers attribute the emotion to Sammy, not to the author.
My other captions are nowhere near as ambitious. While they often have their root in the same fears, they have no real emotion, at least not mine. By authoring the mockeryâstaging it, controlling it, deciding exactly how the humiliation landed and when and how far it wentâI stopped being the person it was inflicted on and became the person inflicting it.
My humiliation captions master shame by controlling it, but in doing so, admit that the shame is real. It doesn't resolve the existence of shame; it merely puts me in control of it. My captions glamorize the fall and erotic enjoyment of succumbing to shame. Useful, yes. But it is merely armor.
The goal of Sammy is to deny the existence of shame altogether. Sammy adds what my captions lack: love. That even in a world where the reduction is made real, it need not define her. That she can thrive in spite of it.
The thing you hated most about your incontinence being public knowledge was how everyone treated you after learning you were in diapers. Before it happened they treated you like the adult you were.
Now you're just treated like a silly boy in diapers. It's like the diapers give them cover to act goofy. How can they possibly embarrass themselves in front of the guy in diapers?
They act silly because they don't need to worry about impressing you like they would with a guy they may be interested in. There is no pretense of sex with a guy in diapers. You're like a puppy to them. A cute plaything they want to cuddle and protect. Sex is the last thing on their mind.
Now all you get are the funny faces, puppy talk, and playful comments about your diapers that do little to hide the mockery in their voice. They may not call you names like "diaper boy" or "baby" or anything like that, but its the subtext in everything they say, every interaction.
You hate it. You just want to be normal. Like you were before. You're sick of being treated like this. Just because your bladder doesn't work the same as theirs shouldn't make you less of a man.
But as you look up at her, you know none of that matters anymore.
"Oh? Does my baby like that?" Mommy cooed around my moans as she slowly moved the vibrator in small circles. She paused the wand at one particular spot and held it there just long enough for my breath to catch followed by another moan sneaking it's way past my traitorous lips.
"I think she does! Oh yes she does! My little one *loves* her buzzy time!" Mommy made the vibrator wander along the front of my diaper, carefully *avoiding* that spot this time. I pushed my hips into the vibrator, trying to reposition it.
She shifted her body slightly, getting one arm around my waist while the other continued to tease me with the promise of sweet vibrations if I could only make her hit ... the right ... spot!
"But I wonder, which does she like more? Her buzzy wand..." Mommy finally let the wand land on that spot again and pushed my hips down into the bed. "Or her *diapers*". At that moment, she grabbed a fistful of my diapered bottom and pushed me up into the vibrator, trapping my body between her kneading hand in the back and the wonderful vibrations in front.
"Fuuuuuuuuuuck" I moaned as the vibrations seemed to tear through my body, reach her other hand, and reverberate through the rest of me. I reveled for that moment as I felt climax approaching.
Then I heard a click and the vibrator stopped.
"Oh no. We don't use that language in this house. Guess we're done for now".
"Noooooo..." I whined, desperate for that release. Just a few more seconds were all I needed. Surely she wouldn't be so cruel!
But looking up into her deep violet eyes, seeing the smirk hiding at the corners of her lips, I knew I was fucked. She could easily be that cruel. I felt a shiver run through me in anticipation of what was to come.
"I don't know..." She mused, while her left hand continued to cup and squeeze my diapered butt. A diaper that was now soggy. When had that happened? "That was an awfully *naughty* word for such a little one to say. And naughty Little ones don't get to have fun things like time with their buzzy wands."
My body tensed as I sensed a trap. "But!" She exclaimed "maybe my little baby didn't know what she was saying. Maybe she'd be willing to give up saying such naughty words if it means getting to finish."
Her eyes locked with mine as I felt the Contract hover, like an open question. I could always say no; a Contract couldn't be entered unwillingly, after all. Last time, I had bartered away "my ability to use the potty when diapered" when she discovered I was a "little baby whose panties were all wet" after she'd been toying with me for the better part of an hour.
Before that, I had been moaning her name over and over while she edged me closer and closer to orgasm but never reaching it. That time, I traded her the ability to "call her anything other than 'Mommy' when turned on". Which beat the alternative she had offered: "Needing a pacifier in my mouth to orgasm".
And just like those other times, I knew this was a mistake. But my rational mind wasn't in the driver's seat. She wanted me not to cuss? Fine. I didn't need to be able to say "Fuck". I could scream incoherent nonsense for all I cared. I needed to cum. Now.
"Yes" I whispered in agreement and felt the Contract click into place. There was a moment of disorientation, but it subsided as quickly as it had arrived, leaving behind a sense of .... something missing. Not a gaping hole, but noticeable. Like the last two times, it felt like there was a forgotten thought hovering just out of reach.
Mommy wasted no time bringing back the vibrations and thrusting my body into the vibrator.
"Ohhhhh Fuuuuuuuudge" I moaned as she angled the vibrator more directly, hitting the right spot over and over. "Frick, it feels so good, Mommy!" My brow furrowed. Had I just said ....
Mommy turned the vibrator up and the thoughts evaporated. "Oh gosh! I just want to make cummies, Mommy!" I nearly yelled, before my cheeks heated, realizing the words that had just come out of my mouth. "Sorry, Mommy. I meant 'cummies'. No, not cummies, 'cummies!' Gosh darn it, I'm trying to say 'cummies'! Frick!"
Mommy looked down at me with a predatory glee. "Well what kind of Mommy would I be if I denied my little one her 'cummies'?" she cooed as she puppetted my body, gyrating my hips into the still humming vibrator. "Nooooooooo!" I cried as I felt the climax approaching. "Fudge! I didn't mean this, Mommy! Fudge! Fuuuuuuudge!" I tried to resist the oncoming wave, but my body had other plans.
Orgasm finally took me, the cresting wave pouring through my body. I felt another warmth pooling beneath me as my back arched and my body crashed back down to the bed over and over. As the spasms turns to shudders, Mommy leaned over and kissed my forehead. When she pulled back, there was an orange glowing thread trailing from her lips. I could feel a faint tugging followed by a *snap* in my mind as she pulled the thread free. She wrapped it around her finger next to a pair of identical strands, one in azure and one in violet.
"Oh you deliciousy desperate little thing" Mommy said contentedly, staring at her hand and eliciting tiny whines from me as she patted the front of my soggy diaper. She turned back from admiring her collection of my Fragments to look down at me with that insatiable hunger of hers. "Mommy cannot wait to see what you're willing to part with next".
Which captions of yours turn you on the most? Do you ever read them after you write them to get off?
This on is easy: The Ugly Truth and As Good As It Gets
Really anything written for @theneedfulthings. But especially The Ugly Truth. That one is the closest to a treatise of what I love most. Pleasure as corruption.
But for the second question, no. As soon as I post something, itâs dead to me. All I see is grammar mistakes, missed opportunities, and awkwardness.
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The nursery was quiet and peaceful in the soft afternoon light.
She lay on her back in the crib, staring up at the gentle spinning mobile above her. The room smelled like baby powder and vanilla, the familiar comforting scent that always surrounded her now. She was supposed to be napping, but sleep refused to come.
Itâs been so long since Daddy touched me like that, the way he used to kiss me hard, the way his hands would slide under my clothes and make me feel like a real woman⌠I miss it. I miss when heâd made me scream with pleasure. She thought, squirming restlessly under the blanket.
Her princess parts were tingling again, that warm, needy ache that had been building for weeks. Daddy still touched her constantly â lifting her into uppies and carrying her around the house like she weighed nothing, kissing her forehead, booping her on the nose, gently rubbing cream and powder between her legs during changes, blowing raspberries on her tummy until she giggled helplessly, cradling her close while she drank her nighttime baba. Those moments made her feel safe and loved, but lately they only made the other ache worse.
She glanced at the closed nursery door. Daddy had put her down for her afternoon nap almost an hour ago, but her body wouldnât settle.
Her hand slipped under the blanket, pressing against the front of her thick, soggy diaper. The padding was warm and heavy from earlier leaks, and the loud crinkle echoed in the quiet room as she rubbed tentatively.
Just a littleâŚDaddy wonât know. Iâll be quick and then I can nap like a good girl. She thought, cheeks already flushing.
She pushed her hand harder against the thick front, trying to reach inside the leg cuff, but the diaper was too bulky.
The crinkles grew louder with every frustrated movement, desperate to scratch her needy itch. She whimpered softly, hips rocking in tiny, desperate circles. The soggy padding squished warmly against her, but it wasnât enough. It never was anymore.
Downstairs, Daddy was finishing up in the kitchen when the doorbell rang. He smiled to himself as he opened the door.
Hayley stood on the porch, looking elegant in her red dress that accentuated her womanly curves in all the right places. She was holding a brightly wrapped gift bag. Her eyes lit up with genuine excitement when she saw him.
âHey there,â she said warmly, stepping forward to hug him. âI brought the ballerina Barbie for her. I remembered her talking about it at the little and caregiver meetups. I canât wait to give it to her! Iâve been thinking about her nonstop.â
Daddy pulled her into a warm hug, lingering just a second longer than friendly. âSheâs going to love it. Come in. Sheâs supposed to be napping, but I think itâs time to wake her up anyway.â
They stepped into the living room. Hayley glanced toward the stairs, her voice bright and eager. âIâm really excited to see her. Sheâs just so adorable. Iâve always wanted a little girl, and the moment I met you both at the caregiver and little meetup Iâve just wanted to scoop her up and feed her a bottle while I rock her to sleepâ.
Daddy smiled warmly at Hayley. âI know exactly what you meanâ.
Then he reached into his back pants pocket to retrieve his phone. âLet me check the nursery camera first. Sheâs been a bit fussy lately about naps.â
He opened the app. The camera feed showed the crib clearly. His little girl was on her back, legs slightly spread, one hand rubbing frantically at the front of her diaper. The soggy padding crinkled loudly with every desperate movement. Her face was flushed, eyes half-closed, paci bobbing, hips grinding against her own hand.
Daddy sighed softly, a mix of fondness and concern. âSheâs supposed to be sleeping right now. This means Iâm going to have a cranky baby tonight because she didnât get her afternoon nap.â
Hayley leaned in closer to see the screen, her expression melting into affectionate delight. âAww, look at her. Someone is a bit fussy in her diapie, isnât she? Poor sweetpea. Sheâs so deep in little space she doesnât even realise we can see her. Sheâs absolutely precious.â
Daddy nodded, watching his baby girlâs hips rock faster. âSheâs been missing our old adult playtime. Iâve been denying her because sheâs just too sweet and tiny for that anymore. I want to protect her, not complicate her.â
Hayley gave him a sympathetic look and placed a gentle hand on his arm. âI went through the same thing with my previous little boy. Once I helped him realise how good his diapers made him feel, he became addicted to his soggy padding for pleasure instead. No more icky adult stuff he couldnât handle. It was the best thing for him.â
Daddy looked at her, grateful. âThatâs exactly where I want to get her. Sheâs not there yet, but I think having a Mommy will help. Co-parenting her⌠two of us to look after her when Iâm at work. She needs constant care.â
Hayley smiled brightly, squeezing his hand. âIâm already wrapped around her little finger. I canât wait to be her Mommy. Letâs go wake up our baby girl.â
Upstairs, she was still lost in her frustration. Her hand rubbed faster against the thick, soggy front of her diaper, the loud crinkles filling the nursery. The pressure was building, but it stayed just out of reach. She whimpered around her paci, hips grinding desperately.
The nursery door opened.
Daddy and Hayley stepped inside.
She froze mid-rub, eyes wide with shock as she saw both of them standing there. Her cheeks exploded into deep crimson. She yanked her hand away from her diaper, but it was too late. They had seen everything.
Daddy approached the crib with a gentle smile, reaching in to scoop her up into his arms. He settled her on his hip, one hand supporting her padded bottom.
âAww, my poor baby girl is feeling all frustrated and horny in her soggy diaper, arenât you, princess?â he cooed, bouncing her lightly. The wet padding squished audibly with each movement.
She couldnât speak. She could only stare back at Mommy Hayley, mortified that this lovely woman from the little and caregivers meetups they had been attending was seeing her like this, flushed, paci in mouth, humping her diaper like a desperate little baby.
âMommy Hayley has come over to play with you today, princess,â Daddy said gently bouncing me some more, his voice warm and reassuring.
âSheâs bought you a present. Would you like to see it?â Daddy tells me excitedly trying to distract me and take my mind off the tingly feeling in my diaper.
Hayley smiled softly at Daddy placing a hand on his shoulder. âAww look the poor girl is still frustrated. She needs to learn to use her diapers to make her feel good, and then she can have her present.â
Daddy looked a little hesitant, glancing at Hayley, but she nodded her head encouragingly. So Daddy began, âOkay princess, Daddy is going to show you what to do with your horniness whenever it arises.â
He turns to look at Hayley and she smiles and walks out of the room without a word.
âWhereâs she going dada?â I lisp around my pacifier.
âTo get your pillow sweetheart,â he says.
Iâm confused. My pillow? I donât need a pillow. I already have plenty.
Just then she returns holding a small pink pillow and places it in the middle of the crib. While daddy simultaneously lowers me onto it so that itâs laying between my legs and my diapered mound.
Her princess parts started tingling again as she felt the pressure of her princess parts being pressed into my soggy diaper and the soft pillow beneath her.
âThis is your humping pillow baby girl,â Daddy says gently. âItâs for you to use to make your cummies. The only way youâre allowed to do so.â
She looked at Daddy unsure, and then at Mommy Hayley, who was now standing close to Daddy â very close â looking at her with a fond expression.
Daddy smiled at her and said, âGo ahead baby girl, do what feels right. Hump your soggy diaper and make cummies for Mommy and Daddy.â
Did he just say Mommy AND Daddy?
She definitely heard him say that, but her diaper was making her too squirmy and her brain had been in a fuzzy daze ever since Daddy stopped looking at her the way he used to when they met.
And now that she thought about it, heâd been looking that way at Hayley whenever they saw each other at the little and caregiver meet ups.
But with both of them peering down at her in her crib with such love and affection in their eyes, she couldnât even fight it anymore. Her hips began to rock and glide her soggy diaper against the pillow.
âGood girl, that feels wonderful, doesnât it?â Mommy Hayley spoke.
Now completely focused on the warm feeling growing in her diaper and enjoying the bolts of pleasure each movement sent through her with each glide of the pillow. She whimpered behind her binky, finally feeling like she might get the release sheâd so desperately been craving.
Daddy speaks with a syrupy-rich tone, âDaddyâs going to teach you how to have a diapergasm sweetheart and you will become obsessed with it.
âYou see, a diapergasm comes from your princess parts being pressed up against and swaddled by your thick soaked padding, creating wonderful feelings everytime you glide against your pillow. Thereâs no penetration involved and a diapergasm is not only intense but leaves you wanting more.â
The sound of Daddyâs voice mixed with the loud, soggy crinkles coming from her humping as it sped up.
Daddy continues, âA big girlâs orgasm comes from sex with a man. Thereâs penetration and mutual exchange of pleasure. But youâre a precious innocent babygirl and canât handle a big girl orgasm and thatâs why youâll have diapergasms instead.â
Her humping was fast and loud now. The sounds of soggy crinkles could be heard all throughout the nursery. Daddyâs words werenât lost on her.
Iâm never going back. Diapers are my pleasure from now on.
With one last desperate, crinkly thrust into the little pink pillow, she climaxed into the most intense, mind-numbing diapergasm of her life. Her whole body trembled, eyes rolling back as wave after wave of fuzzy pleasure washed over her.
Her brain turned completely gooey, thoughts melting away until all she could feel was the warm, sticky mess in her diaper and the overwhelming bliss.
Daddy and Mommy Hayley watched their little one with soft, loving smiles for what seemed liked forever.
After a few more moments of bliss, Mommy Hayley moved the pillow aside while Daddy pulled out a pair of pink plastic pants printed with nursery animals and easily guided her legs through and pulled them up snugly around her poofy, soggy diaper.
âI was going to change that soggy diaper,â Daddy murmured, kissing her forehead, âbut a nap is more urgent right now, huh my sleepy little princess?â
She could only stare up at them, blinking slowly, suckling softly on her paci.
Mommy Hayley leaned in with a sweet, excited smile. âThose cute plastic pants will ensure you can have a nice nap without worrying about any leakies. Then once youâve woken up and been changed, you can open your present! How does that sound, buttercup?â
It sounded perfect.
Daddy and Mommy slowly walked out of the nursery, switching off the lights. They turned one last time to look at their sleepy little girl, gently humping the pillow even in her sleep as she drifted off.
Downstairs, Mommy and Daddy couldnât stop gushing about how sweet their little one was.
Daddy let out a long sigh. âIâm glad she knows that her pleasure comes from her diapers now. The poor thing kept asking for âbig girl time like we used toâ and I was running out of ways to distract her. Iâm glad she now has a way to scratch that itchâ
He turned to Hayley, eyes full of gratitude. âThank you for helping me do it. I think having a Mommy will be the best thing thatâs ever happened to her.â
Hayley reached her hand out and placed it on top of his. âSheâs as cute as a button and Iâm gonna spoil her rotten!â
Daddy chuckled. âWell wait till she sees the Barbie doll you bought her. Sheâs gonna drag you to every toy store from now on!â
Hayley smiled with a hint of a smirk, âWell Iâm looking forward to every toy store trip with the little cutie pie!â She then moved her hand from where it was resting, on top of his hand, on his knee, and began inching it towards his pants zipper.
She leaned forward and spoke into his ear âIâm especially looking forward to showing you how Daddies have orgasmsâŚâ
âYou see a Daddyâs orgasm comes from sex with a woman. Thereâs penetration and mutual exchange of pleasure but youâre a caregiver to an itty bitty baby girl. You havenât had the touch of a woman in so long thatâs why youâll have me insteadâŚâ
He cut her off by crashing his lips into hers as they both raced to take off their clothes, craving the passionate embrace of another adult.
All the while, their soggy little one slept soundly upstairs, none the wiser to the adult activities happening below her nursery.
I don't believe I asked this one before, but... oh well if I did.
Pick one of your stories to live in. As a new life, meaning you can't go back. What you pick is forever your new destiny. But you'd have to be the diaper boy in that story, no being the daddy, just the baby. What would you pick?
Would you rather go for comfort, humiliation, or naturally something in between..., maybe just something else entirely?
Chalk up this question to curiosity.
Great question! I'm surprised I haven't thought about this myself.
If I can cheat by swapping genders, then Sammy's Little Problem because Alyssa is the best caregiver I've written and I'd prefer to be little in a world where littles are accepted and aren't seen as strange/sexual deviants by the puritanical vanilla world.
Or I can REALLY cheat by choosing this caption, which I already lived because it's based on telling my wife about my incontinence. So, hopefully it is, in fact, forever because you know, my wife is in it.
But in the spirit of your question, then Momma Mia for many of the same reasons. If it's going to be a long-term thing, not merely a scene, I want comfort and love with a dash of humiliation. Plus daycare sounds wayyy less stressful than being an immigration lawyer right now.
The more intense, sexually frustrated captions may seem hot, but I consider captions like My Kink Is Karma and Forever Young to be Twilight Zone-level nightmares.
I'd choose Somewhere In My Memory without any limitations. I'm in love with the idea of my wife "co-parenting" a little with me rather than her being my little. Ugh, I'm obsessed with it.
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