diapers and kink

Daddy was greated by Jonathon's semi naked form asleep and spralled across the bed when he returned home. As he quietly stripped off his soiled work clothes he gazed at the narrow fitting medical diaper bunched between Jonathon's pale cheeks his cock already pressing against his sweaty underwear in anticipation of the next few minutes.

The movement on the bed made Jonathon stir and the firm hands on his hips, dragging him onto his knees, elicited a moan of protest into his dummy gag. Daddy slipped a hand between Jonathon's legs to feel the damp padding he knew he'd find. Luckily the nappy had kept the bed sheets dry, which had been Daddy's main concern that morning, particularly as he normally kept his boi in an assortment of colourful, babyish, ultra thick nappies.

Jonathon whimpered, his tongue compressed by the bulbous rubber teat, desperately trying to shake free his dream filled mind. He felt a hand on the back of his head pushing his face into the pillow. He knew what was coming, he'd been promised it this morning but the rip of the nappy tapes from around his waist and the rush of cool air around his damp ball sack heightened the impending violation.

"I know you want this," Daddy whispered, rubbing his thick member along Jonathon's smooth crack, pausing at his puckered hole.

Jonathon shook his head in protest and tried to pull away. Gripping Jonathon's narrow hips, Daddy pressed home the point, all seven inches of it.

Is there anything better than this? The quiet, intimate ritual of unsnapping their onesie, revealing what you already knew was waiting—a diaper so utterly soaked it sags heavily against their skin. A diaper you put on them. It’s not just a piece of padding; it’s a symbol, a quiet reminder of how much they trust you, how much they’ve given themselves over to your care.

You let your fingers trace the edges of the fabric, feeling the faint dampness where it’s pressed against them, and you can’t help but smile. There’s a strange kind of pride in it, isn’t there? You didn’t just put them in that diaper; you chose it, snugged it up perfectly, and secured those tapes with the full knowledge of what would happen next. And now here it is—proof that they’ve completely let go, literally and figuratively.

There’s no rush, no urgency to move forward. You savor the moment. That adorable onesie, now loose and pulled aside, was once perfectly neat and tidy. The contrast between its innocent look and the very not-so-innocent state of what’s underneath is… well, it’s delightful in a way words don’t quite capture.

And, of course, there’s the future. The wet diaper you’re admiring now is just one in a long line of many. It’s not the first, and it certainly won’t be the last. You already know what comes next: the warm scent of powder, the soft crinkle of a fresh diaper being unfolded, and the satisfying sound of tapes being smoothed into place. It’s a cycle, one you both share, and one you wouldn’t trade for anything.

My old record was 10 days.

It's kinda interesting to see how this affects me. I'm not gonna lie, I'm quite horny these days. My mind went from:

"Diapers are kinda comfy to wear every now and then."

To: "Make me your locked diapered slave 24/7/365!!!

But it also seems to make me a bit more affectionate towards my boyfriend.

I feel like it has a positive influence on an emotional level.

I actually kinda hope that I won't fall back into my old patterns when (L)Oc(k)tober is over.

I don't know why, but a diaper and a chastity cage always make me more motivated to do my chores.

Night diaper 💦