Boys In Poop And Diapers

Daddy just laid you down into your crib. Moving from the main bedroom to your own room, which is basically a nursery, wasn’t easy. Being away from daddy, sleeping alone, surrounded by raised rails, and just realizing your adult life had been thrown away to make room for a new babyish life. For a couple of weeks, daddy kept you in a chastity cage, saying good boys don’t play with themselves. You only had a release when daddy decided. When he saw your cute little balls were blue and shrank, then he knew you had enough and he took care of it during a diaper change. So many nights daddy had tucked you in your crib after long days, when you felt you wanted to explode, in your diaper or outside of it, just having that urge. He took everything from you, even the enjoyment of your own body. One night, while daddy prepared you for bed, when he’d put a diaper on you, there was no cage in sight. You thought maybe he forgot about it after your bath, but he just creamed your little peepee, blue balls, hole, powdered it all, and taped the diaper on you. Behind your pacifier, you knew you shouldn’t say anything. First of all, daddy is always right. Second, you are finally out of that horrible cage. After the diaper came the onesie and a clip for the pacifier. Just before he took you to your crib, he sprinkled a dash of baby powder all over the onesie. You knew he loves that scent.

"Have you heard the legend about the guy who never forgave his best friend for telling the whole school about how he "cried like a baby" when they watched The Lion King together? How the story stuck and people were still calling him "cry baby" right up until college graduation?

How his juvenile plot for revenge became more detailed and extreme with each passing year? How he seduced his buddy's widowed mother, gradually took control of his life and trapped him in a world of bonnets, bibs, baby food and a ceaseless succession of dirty diapers with a chastity cage and padded fist-mittens locked on 24/7?

How he now relishes in spending all his free time (and every dollar of his former friend's inheritance) proudly proving to the whole world just who's the REAL big baby. How he mockingly takes on the guise of a doting daddy, fussing and cooing at full volume while changing his cringing, crinkly captive's pee-soaked Pampers in the most public and humiliating situations he can come up with? How he was somehow granted full power of attorney over his unwilling, waddling ward and gleefully changed his legal name to Cry Baby - a title which he most certainly lived up to when he heard the unwelcome news?

Come to think of it, I guess you wouldn't have heard that legend. It's mostly told at bars and restaurants that Mommy and Daddy visit after you've been tucked into your crib by the babysitter at 7pm, helplessly flooding your Huggies in your sleep while unconsciously snuggling with the giant stuffed Simba that you're required to keep with you at all times.