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I don't have a favourite writer but I can definitely recommend a few

@samsm2mstories

@wakeup01

@bikercbr6 for his chav infection stories

@kylestfs

@fratttymatty

@papermoon357

@hypnogear I created my tumblr account after reading his stories

@jockbrojack for his jock tf (a pity he doesn't let us mention him in our posts)

@davidchavlover

#BAMBINO’S

https://bambinodiapers.com

#TYKABLES

https://tykables.com

#ABUniverse

https://us.abuniverse.com

#NappiesRUS

https://www.nappiesrus.co.uk

#Rearz

https://rearz.ca

#Aww So Cute

https://www.awwsocute.com

#Onesies DownUnder

https://onesiesdownunder.com/collections/onesies

#The Dotty Diaper Company

https://www.thedottydiapercompany.co.uk

#Crinklz

https://www.crinklz.com

#ABDL Factory

https://abdlfactory.com

#Cuddlz

https://www.cuddlz.com

#ABDL MarketPlace

https://www.abdlmarketplace.co.uk

#Wearing Clouds

https://wearingclouds.com

#Adult Baby Shop

https://adult-baby-shop.eu

#DDLG Playground

https://ddlgplayground.com/collections/adult-baby-diaper-lover

#Little Space Place

https://www.changingtimesdiaperco.com/pages/product-range

https://www.baby-pants.com/

https://www.llmedico.com/adult-diapers/

https://www.babykins.com/collections/adult-cloth-diapers

http://www.plastic-pants.com/

“Не…достаточно…большой!!” (“Not…big…enough!!”)

"Yeah, look at that. It's so big and juicy now, don't you think?"

"Ugghhh....yyeeeahhh.......hmmmm.....fucking big and juicy,"

"And the nipples.....fucking sensitive, don't they?"

"Fucking.....mmmhhhmmmmhh....sensitive,"

"And you like that, right?"

"Ye.....yeahhh.....I like that,"

"Because you're putty to my touch. I mold you to be my big dumb muscle slut and you like it, right?"

"Mmmmhhhh.....I'm a big dumb muscle slut,"

"Of course you are. Now, after I let go of your tits, you'll shoot the biggest load of your life, taking all that nerdiness out of your system with it and you'll be my devoted muscle bull, you understand me?"

"Your devoted muscle bull,"

"Exactly. Now, I'm going to squeeze these boobs and then pinch your nipple until it gets hard and perky. As it gets perkier, your 5 incher cock will grow out from its foreskin as it gets to its full mast and before I let go, it will still be on edge, throbbing and pulsating until all your past self gathered down there in your cock. You'll moan like a cheap fucking slut begging me to release you all the time until you said "Please take me out, Master" and only then I will let go, okay?"

"Ngghhh.....too much words...let go....ngghhh ffuuuucckkk....take out.....please.....this is getting too much.....ngghhmmmppphh...."

"Not there yet,"

"Nggmmmhhppphhh ahhh.....please.....my tits.....master...."

"Beg harder---"

That's what you thought when you opened the door to your home as the door bell rang. No doubt, he looked so hot in his clothes, buldging arms with smooth skin, shorts with massive legs growing from his torso where you can see the outlines of his abs that were pushed outside of his roided belly. And to top it all off, a pair of the biggest pecs you have ever seen.

You always had a thing for huge men. The ones you observe at your gym. Secretly wishing that one of them would come over to you, drag you to the locker room and...

You were torn out of your thoughts when he cleared his throat.

'Ah, sorry! Please come in!' You stuttered, obviously embarresed. You turned around to close the door behind you. And as soon as you went back to your date, you saw that he threw his arms up and didn't hesitate and show himself off.

It was weird, as if he could read your mind. Your dick started to twitch in your sweatpants, pushing the fabric outward. You have the urge to grab his biceps, feel the warmth of his muscles, the veins that surround them, pumping them up with blood. You took a step forward, that's when he jumped right in front of you, your face just centimetres away from his muscle tits. You could smell the sweat from his body, yes, almost taste it on your tounge.

For my friend @axeeglitter

Mason hadn’t slept since the second night. The weight of his brother’s disappearance clung to his chest.

No calls.

No texts.

And worse, no answers. Tyler had shown him the damn ring, all trembling hands and wide eyes, the night he went missing. He Said he was going to propose after his shift at the shop.

But he never came home.

Now Mason was standing in the same foyer where he imagined his brother had stood two nights earlier. inside the clean, stale-smelling home of Mr. Dyer, the girlfriend’s father. Mason had to come to ask if his brother had stopped by. The man was calm.

So calm. He offered coffee.

"Boys leave town all the time," Mr. Dyer said, sipping his cup. "Maybe he got cold feet, he seemed the type if you know what I mean."

Mason’s stomach twisted. "That’s not him."

He pretended to use the bathroom but really he was searching. He crept down the hallway, cracking open any door just to glance inside. He paused at the office room.

A wall of tapes. VHS tapes. Dozens. All lined up on old oak shelves. Mason squinted. Those things looked prehistoric, who used VHS anymore? Handwritten labels. Male names. One near the bottom looked fresh...

Mason took a sharp breath in.

TYLER, black Sharpie scrawled across white tape spine. A photo was taped beside it, slightly askew: a shirtless Latino man in a club, getting grinded on. The man looked familiar

almost like...

Mason’s hands started to shake.

****

That night, Mason broke into the house.

It was too easy. He had noticed the back window didn't have a lock when Mr Dreyer had seen him off.

Heart thudding. He sprinted straight to the office, popped open the cabinet under the shelf, and yanked out the chunky silver VHS player. He shoved in the tape labeled TYLER, pressed play, and dropped to his knees in front of the screen sitting low to the floor.

Snow. Static. Then the tape kicked on.

It flickered,

then opened on a pounding club scene—low lighting, writhing bodies, synthy Brazilian funk thumping against the camera mic. The crowd parted slightly and then...

Tyler

Tyler appeared, mid-frame, Glitching into existance,

standing like he’d just been dropped from the sky. Same hoodie. Same confused face.

"HELLO?!" Tyler screamed up at the ceiling, looking terrified. "I DON’T KNOW WHERE I AM! LET ME OUT! PLEASE - MR. DYER - PLEASE!"

A voice sounded through the speakers, smooth, Calm, Cruel.

"You should’ve stayed away from my daughter, Tyler."

Mason watched confused. The crowd didn’t notice. The bodies kept moving, bathed in pink and purple light, sweat glistening on bare torsos, Groping and grinding. Mr Dyer Spoke again,

"I always mess up this next part—hang on…"

Tyler flinched. His body convulsed slightly, flickering with the VHS. Mason watched, jaw clenched tight, stomach turning with a strange cocktail of dread and disbelief.

glitch

The change was instant. His skin tone deepened, a radiant bronze overtaking pale peach. Glitch, His arms bulged, thick biceps rounding out with a sudden pump of meat. GLITCH, His shoulders broadened, pecs heaving out, nipples pushing against his hoodie, until the fabric shimmered and melted away into a sheer mesh tank top that clung to his glistening chest.

Tyler gasped, staggering. "W-what’s happening—?"

"You’ll look better like this," said Mr. Dyer’s voice, "You'll match the set." The Screen Flickered,

His legs thickened with a visible rush of mass. Muscle piled onto his thighs, ass ballooning into a dancer’s dream. round, high, juicy. The waistband of his jeans shredded away, replaced by skimpy white club shorts so tight you could see the pulse of his cock through the fabric. His calves flexed with each stumble, now carved from stone.

The screen flickered into static for a moment.

Mason watched in frozen horror as his brother’s jaw sharpened, lips plumped, eyes darkened with smudged kohl liner, hair tightening into a slick, stylish fade. Tyler screamed again, but the voice cracked, pitch dropping, accent thickening.

"Por favor—o que—o que está acontecendo?!"

His voice rolled with flavor now, every word wrapped in those perfect lips

"Final adjustment," Mr. Dyer said.

Tyler’s face twisted, then relaxed.

A flicker of pleasure twitched through him. His hips began to sway with the music. His moans turned low, drawn out, thirsty.

He blinked slow. His hands slid over his own glistening pecs, fingers tweaking his nipples, tracing the sweat between his abs. And then he was dancing

pressed against a thick stranger, grinding with perfect rhythm, head tilted back in ecstasy.

The camera panned in slow, capturing every bead of sweat trailing down his neck. His hard-on throbbed against his partner’s thigh, shameless and twitching.

The tape rolled. Mason stared, mouth dry, heart pounding.

What the hell had he just watched? some sort of SICK Porn Mr. Dyers was funding? He must have Tyler locked up somewhere, doing awful things to him! He had to get this tape back to the police, then maybe -

click.

The light flicked on.

Mr. Dyer stood in the doorway, an old camera in his hand. It didn’t look like any Mason had ever seen

A black chrome body, red lens, a high pitched whine being emitted. The air around it shimmered like heat off pavement.

"Don’t worry," Mr. Dyer said, voice calm. "You’ll get to see him again."

Mason barely got a "Wait, please-" out before the flash went off.

*****

The club slammed into existence around him.

Sweat. Lights. Bass. Heat. Skin. The smell.

Mason stumbled, gasping, His body was on fire. HIs vision glitched like hed seen on the VHS tape.

Flicker, He shirtless now, his jeans already stitched into something obscenely tight.

The air clung to him, every inch of skin instantly slicked with oil and desire. Tyler’s voice cut through the noise:

"Bem-vindo, mano... tava sentindo sua falta."

Mason turned and there he was

HIs Brother,

Tyler. But not anymore

Radiant and sweaty, pecs bouncing to the rhythm, cock outlined through paper-thin white mesh.

"No...no....Tyler, snap out of it!"

GLITCH

But his own voice was changing now. Thicker. Heavier. Words slurring. His thighs swelled, veins surfacing. His ass bloomed, stretching the tiny shorts he hadn't even noticed forming around his hips. Sweat dripped from his hair, down his chest and back.

His abs popped, each one a brick glistening with sweat, torso flexing with each ragged breath.

"F-Fuck, no - please I can’t..."

But it felt so good.

His cock throbbed in the fabric, already wet at the tip. His new skin shimmered bronze, He could smell his own musk.

The former Tyler pulled him into a slow grind.

Their sweat-slicked bodies met, pecs colliding, arms wrapping. Mason’s breath hitched as his hips began to move on their own, grinding back. His moan escaped deep, His tongue curling before he even knew what he was saying.

"Porra... me sinto quente pra caralho..." FLICKER

The last of his mind tilted.

The club roared.

"Vamos dançar, irmãozinho," Tyler whispered against his ear, grinding harder, tongue tracing Mason’s neck.

Mason smiled, lips parted, cock hard and twitching in his shorts.

They danced. They kissed. They moaned. The beat drowned out everything else.

And just like that, the tape kept playing.

Forever.

I don't know why Tumblr doesn't let me put more, but here it is.

personalized (favorite)

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Will you turn this pauper into your prince?