Almost Adult

*during a change* Who's a stinky boy! Who? You're are! *while giving belly rubs*

Hey Kiddo! Its time to got to the park! Stay close I don't want you wandering off on our walk there. *as leash is snapped onto collar*

Hey Pup? Whats this on the floor? Did you spill something or did you pee? *Turns corner and finds the little hiding in the corner covering their eyes*

*Whimpering for attention*

*Nosing for attention*

*Puppy dog eyes for attention*

*Puppies/babies need lots of attention*

Anyway

Sweetie! Time to come down for dinner! *as they place a bowl of mashed potatoes, peas, and Dino nuggets on the ground next to them*

*Curious little starts nibbling on fingers* Hey! No biting! Off! Go to your cage!

*Curious little starts sucking on fingers* Hmm is someone feeling a bit mouthy today? Lets get you something better to suck on...

Hey whats the matter Sweetie? Come here *Opens arms as the Little trots over and jumps on their lap for cuddles, allowing lots of head pats*

*Hears noise from other room* Hey! *grabs little pup by the collar* Must you hump everything you see? *Cue the puppy dog eyes*

*Sleepy little pup waddles over and falls asleep on the floor using their cg/owners feet as a pillow*

*Giving candy to a little pup for using the potty... I mean this one is obvious right?*

Because some people have been asking for it, here's the second part to my little cuckold ABDL story.

The plastic crinkled beneath him as Ethan shifted his weight in the crib, the sound echoing in his ears. His fingers trembled against the crib rails—he could climb out right now, rip this stupid onesie off, and storm out. But something kept him rooted in place, his thighs pressing together against the thick padding between them. Curiosity? Desire? Jared’s words looped in his head: "Soaked. Messy. However you wanna get there." The humiliation burned, but deeper still, a traitorous heat coiled low in his stomach and in the spreading blush across his face.

Ethan squeezed his eyes shut, grinding his teeth around the pacifier. It shouldn’t feel this good—the way the diaper bunched between his legs, the way Jared’s hands had lingered on his hips like he was something precious. He wasn’t supposed to like this. But the thought of Jared’s approval—his deep, rumbling praise—sent a jolt through him. What would it look like, to be a good boy for another man?

A tear slid down his cheek, and he hated himself for it. He was crying—actually crying—like some over-tired toddler. He sucked harder on the pacifier, the rhythmic motion steadying him against the storm in his chest. The crib smelled faintly of baby powder, and god, why did that make his throat tighten?

The diaper rustled as he pressed his thighs together, testing the sensation. Thick and undeniable. He could almost hear Jared’s voice again, that teasing lilt: "You’re being such a good boy." Ethan bit down on the pacifier, a whimper escaping him. He hated how much he wanted to hear that again.

His stomach twisted. Was he really considering this? He could feel himself teetering on the edge—one moment away from giving in or bolting. Fine. Fine. He’d do it—just to see. Just to know. His stomach clenched as he let go, the warmth spreading between his legs slowly. The scent hit him immediately—earthy and his—and he buried his face in the crib mattress with a choked noise. He was a baby. A baby with a messy diaper.

The diaper sagged heavier now, clinging to him in ways he couldn’t ignore. He shuddered, pressing his thighs tight together as the humiliation—and something darker, hotter—settled deep in his belly. His pacifier bobbed as he swallowed hard. Jared would know, immediately. He’d come back and see—and god, Ethan didn’t know if he wanted to die or melt into the crib.

Footsteps echoed down the hall—heavy, deliberate. Ethan’s breath caught. The doorknob turned with a soft click. Jared alone filled the doorway, his expression unreadable for a heartbeat before his lips curled into a slow, approving smile. "Well, well," he murmured, stepping inside. "Look who chose right." His fingers brushed Ethan’s cheek, wiping away a stray tear. "Good boy." The praise sent a jolt through Ethan’s spine, his toes curling against the crib bars.

Jared’s hands slid under Ethan’s armpits, lifting him from the crib with effortless strength. The diaper felt heavy between his thighs, the scent of powder doing little to mask the sharper, more intimate smell beneath. Ethan squirmed, but Jared just chuckled, adjusting his grip like Ethan’s resistance was nothing more than a kitten’s fussing. "Shh, shh," Jared murmured, his breath warm against Ethan’s ear as he carried him to the oversized rocking chair in the corner. "Daddy’s got you."

The chair creaked under their combined weight as Jared settled in, pulling Ethan onto his lap with a firm hand on the small of his back. Then—deliberately, inexorably—Jared pressed down, forcing Ethan’s weight fully into the filled diaper. The squish was immediate, the mess pressing back against Ethan’s skin in a way that made his stomach flip. He gasped around the pacifier, his face burning. Jared’s arm curled around his waist, holding him close. "There we go," Jared rumbled, his voice vibrating through Ethan’s chest. "Feel that? That’s what happens when Daddy’s little boy... just... let's... go."

The words shouldn’t have sent a jolt of heat through him—shouldn’t have made his fingers curl into Jared’s shirt. But they did. Jared’s thumb brushed over Ethan’s lower lip, nudging the pacifier aside just enough to see his mouth. "You’re blushing," Jared observed, amused. "Cute." He tapped the front of Ethan’s diaper, making the plastic crinkle. "But this? This is proof. Proof you’re just a baby. My baby." His hand slid up Ethan’s spine, possessive and warm. "And babies need their daddies to clean up their messes. Don't they?"

The rocking chair swayed gently, the rhythm almost soothing despite the humiliation simmering under Ethan’s skin. Jared’s fingers trailed down to the waistband of the onesie, popping the snaps open one by one with agonizing slowness. Ethan squeezed his eyes shut, but Jared tutted, tilting his chin up. "No. Look at me." Ethan’s eyelids fluttered open, meeting Jared’s dark, knowing gaze. "Good boy," Jared murmured, and the praise settled in Ethan’s chest like a brand.

Jared’s fingers traced idle circles over the soaked padding, pressing just enough to make Ethan squirm. The rocking chair creaked beneath them, a slow, rhythmic sound that somehow made everything feel more intimate. Jared leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of his ear. "Feel that mess in there?" he murmured, his voice thick with something between amusement and tenderness. "That’s because you belong in diapers, little one. Your body knows it, even if your big boy brain hasn’t caught up yet."

The mess between his legs was impossible to ignore now—every shift in Jared’s lap sent a fresh wave of humiliation through him. Jared chuckled, low and rich, as if he could hear the frantic pulse of Ethan’s thoughts. "Oh, sweetheart," he sighed, palming the front of the diaper with deliberate pressure. "You’re so embarrassed, aren’t you? But you’re also hard as a rock."

The observation landed like a slap. Ethan’s hips jerked involuntarily, and Jared’s grin widened. "There it is," he crooned, fingers dipping under the waistband just enough to tease. "That’s the part of you that gets it. The part that knows you’re mine."

Ethan whimpered as Jared’s hands settled on his hips, guiding him forward until he straddled Jared’s thick thigh. Jared’s grip tightened, fingers digging into the softness of Ethan’s onesie-covered hips. "Giddy-up, little cowboy," Jared murmured, his voice a dark rumble that sent shivers down Ethan’s spine.

Jared shifted, lifting his knee just enough to press it firmly against the soaked padding between Ethan’s thighs. Ethan gasped, his hands flying to Jared’s shoulders for balance as the motion forced him to rock forward, the friction sending a jolt of heat through him. Jared’s grin was wolfish, his eyes glinting with amusement as he watched Ethan squirm. "That’s it," he coaxed, his voice dripping with false sweetness. "Ride Daddy’s leg like a good little buckaroo."

Ethan’s face burned, his breath coming in short bursts as Jared’s knee nudged him into a slow, rhythmic grind. The diaper bunched with every movement, the mess inside pressing against him in ways that made his stomach turn with humiliation—and something else, something hotter and far more shameful. Jared’s hands slid up his sides, thumbs brushing the underside of his ribs. "You’re gonna love your new life, baby boy," he purred, his breath warm against Ethan’s ear. "Huggies, bottles for bedtime, and Daddy’s lap for whenever you need a little… attention."

The words sent a fresh wavethrough Ethan, his hips stuttering forward despite himself. Jared chuckled again as he pressed his knee up harder, the pressure just shy of unbearable. "See?" Jared murmured, his lips grazing Ethan’s temple. "You’re made for this. Made to be small and helpless and mine. And Daddy’s gonna take such good care of you."

Ethan's thighs trembled as Jared's knee nudged insistently against his padded crotch, forcing him into a slow, rhythmic rock. His onesie hung open now, the snaps undone, exposing the swollen front of his diaper. Jared's thumb traced the wet plastic "You're gonna wake up like this every morning," Jared continued, his voice a dark purr. "Diaper soaked and full, cock aching for Daddy's attention." He tilted Ethan's chin up, forcing him to meet his gaze. "And you know what happens then?"

Ethan shook his head, his pulse hammering in his throat. Jared grinned. "Daddy changes you," he said, punctuating each word with a sharp upward thrust of his knee. "Cleans you up nice and gentle. Then…" His fingers trailed down to the waistband of the diaper, hooking under the elastic. "Maybe rubs a little lotion on that pretty little cock of yours. Just to take the edge off."

Ethan’s breath hitched as Jared’s fingers teased the waistband of his diaper, the plastic crinkling with every slight tug. The mess between his legs was warm and inescapable, but worse—so much worse—was the way his body arched into Jared’s touch, betraying him completely.

Ethan’s hips stuttered forward helplessly, his fingers clawing at Jared’s shoulders as the pressure built. Jared’s smile was all teeth. "Go on, baby boy. Ride it out." His hands slid down to grip Ethan’s waist, guiding him into a relentless rhythm.

Ethan's vision blurred at the edges, his body moving on autopilot as Jared's hands steered him through each humiliating rock of his hips. The pacifier muffled his whimpers, but nothing could hide the way his thighs trembled or how his cock twitched against the wet padding with every grind. The smell—warm and intimate—filled the space between them.

"Almost there," Jared murmured, his palm pressing flat against Ethan's stomach as if he could feel the tension coiling inside him. His other hand slid down to cup the swollen front of the diaper, fingers kneading the plastic just enough to make Ethan's breath hitch. "Daddy knows. Daddy always knows."

The words shouldn't have unraveled him. But when Jared's thumb pressed down in one firm circle, Ethan's back arched violently, his toes curling as pleasure ripped through him. The diaper grew damp in a whole new way, warmth spreading in sticky pulses as Ethan shuddered, his fingers gripping Jared's shirt like a lifeline. "DADDY!! OH!!"

Jared rocked Ethan through the aftershocks, his touch gentling but never stopping. "There's my good boy," he crooned. "Daddy's perfect little mess."

The rocking chair stilled as Jared cradled Ethan against his chest, his heartbeat steady and slow beneath Ethan’s ear. The pacifier slipped from Ethan’s slack mouth, landing with a soft plop. Jared didn’t seem to mind—just pressed a kiss to Ethan’s sweat-damp forehead and murmured, "Daddy’s got you."

Ethan’s limbs felt boneless, his thoughts syrupy and slow. He should’ve been scrambling away, should’ve been furious, but all he could manage was a weak fist against Jared’s shoulder. Jared caught his wrist effortlessly, bringing Ethan’s fingers to his lips for a teasing nibble. "Uh-uh," he chided. "No hitting. Babies use their words."

Ethan’s cheeks burned. Words. Right. He opened his mouth, but all that came out was a hoarse, "Why?"

Jared’s smile was indulgent, like Ethan had asked why the sky was blue. "Because you need this," he said simply, his thumb tracing the waistband of Ethan’s ruined diaper. "Because deep down, you’ve always needed someone to take care of you. To own you." His fingers tightened possessively around Ethan’s hip. "Lucky for you, Daddy loves taking care of his playthings."

The diaper sagged between Ethan’s thighs, warm and heavy, as Jared lifted him effortlessly from the rocking chair. Ethan’s legs dangled, toes brushing the carpet, his onesie hanging open where Jared had unsnapped it earlier. Jared’s hands spanned his waist like he was something delicate—something precious. "Time for a change, baby boy," Jared murmured, his breath hot against Ethan’s temple.

Ethan’s stomach flipped as Jared carried him to the changing table, the vinyl crinkling beneath him as he was laid out like an offering. The overhead light was too bright, too clinical, casting Jared’s shadow over Ethan’s body in a way that made him feel impossibly small. Jared’s fingers hooked under the waistband of the ruined diaper, peeling it back with a slow, deliberate drag that sent a shiver up Ethan’s spine. The cool air hit his damp skin, and he twitched, his cock lying half-hard against his stomach.

Jared hummed, running a thumb along the inside of Ethan’s thigh. "Look at you," he murmured, his voice dripping with approval. "All messy for Daddy." His fingers trailed higher, brushing the crease of Ethan’s hip, and Ethan’s breath hitched. Jared’s smile was slow, predatory. "First time a man’s touched you like this, isn’t it?"

Ethan squeezed his eyes shut, but Jared’s fingers caught his chin, forcing his gaze up. "Uh-uh. Eyes on Daddy." Jared’s thumb pressed against Ethan’s lower lip, dragging it down just enough to expose the pink beneath. "You’re gonna watch. Gonna learn." His other hand slid down Ethan’s stomach, fingers tracing the outline of his cock with feather-light touches that made Ethan’s hips jerk involuntarily.

Jared chuckled, wrapping his fingers around Ethan’s shaft in a firm grip. "There it is," he murmured, his thumb swiping over the head, smearing pre-come in slow circles. "Daddy’s gonna teach you how good it feels." His strokes were steady, relentless, each one sending jolts of pleasure.

Jared leaned in, his lips brushing Ethan’s ear. "You’re gonna come a second time for Daddy," he whispered, his voice rough with promise. "Gonna let Daddy see how pretty you look when you fall apart in your mess." His thumb pressed against the slit of Ethan’s cock, twisting on the upstroke, and Ethan gasped, his back arching off the table.

Ethan’s vision blurred as the tension snapped, his body shuddering as he came with a broken cry, stripes of white painting his stomach. Jared’s hand didn’t stop, milking him through it until Ethan whimpered, oversensitive and trembling.

Jared peeled the useddiaper away, tossing it into the waiting pail with a wet plop. He didn’t seem to mind the explosion of poop against Ethan's skin—just grabbed a wipe and began cleaning with slow, methodical strokes. "There we go," he murmured, his fingers lingering in the crease of Ethan’s hip. "Daddy’s got baby all nice and fresh."

Ethan shivered, his skin pebbling under Jared’s touch. The cool air bit at his damp flesh, but worse was the way Jared’s gaze lingered—like he was memorizing every twitch, every flush of Ethan’s skin. Jared reached for a fresh diaper, unfolding it with a practiced flick. Ethan’s stomach dropped when he saw the print: Lion King characters frolicking across the padding, Simba’s cartoon face grinning up at him like this was some adorable joke. HUGGIES.

Imagine that feeling when you’re tucked away upstairs in your cozy little nursery, locked in your crib, wearing nothing but a crinkly, thick diaper and a soft, pastel unicorn onesie snapped over your padded crotch. Your pacifier is snug in your mouth, muffling those little whimpers as you suck on it hard, feeling that babyish comfort wash over you. Downstairs, your boyfriend is hosting a wild party—laughter, music, and clinking glasses echo through the house. He’s invited a bunch of girls, including his ex, and they’re all drinking, giggling, and having the time of their lives. But you? You’re up here, hidden away like a naughty little secret, playing with your magic wand buzzing on the soggy padding of your diaper.

Now picture this: your boyfriend set up a baby monitor, but it’s reversed. You’ve got the screen right in front of your crib, showing every filthy detail of the party downstairs. There he is, groping his ex’s ass in her tiny slutty skirt and thongs, pulling her close, kissing her deep while the other girls cheer and laugh. You watch him pin her against the wall, his hands all over her, fucking her right there in the living room while the party rages on. And that feeling, oh, that feeling as you’re watching your boyfriend fucking his ex as you suddenly completely lose control and start shitting in your diaper, The hot, huge mushy mess just bursts out of you, making a loud, wet sound as it quickly spreads, filling your thick diaper, forcing you to squirm helplessly in your crib. It’s so humiliating, knowing you’re up here messing yourself like a helpless baby while he’s down there having his fun.

Watching her hump something something, preferably a stuffed animal or a pillow from her crib so as to always have that smell lingering around wherever she goes. Knowing she’s not even grown up enough to touch herself, to use her fingers like a grown up. A motion, a rhythm she’s learned as she grew up - a week only she knows how to please herself. Her way - a part of self discovery as she finds her own sexuality, what turns her on. But no, she doesn’t get any of that. She just helplessly humps what ever she’s allowed to with a grown up standing over her to make sure she’s supervised at all times.

Sometimes she can be regressed further. Issuing a buzzy wand on her nappy to achieve the same results, taking even the motion of humping something out of the equation - completely at the mercy of someone holding the wand for her, removing all choice and control. Feeling herself getting pent up and horny by having her wet, mushy accidents vibrates against her special parts. It’s such a disgusting concept to get turned on by.

You can put a paci in her mouth or gag her with one to mute all of her little protests and all of her silly horny brained fussy moans. It’s always good to keep her restrained for her own safety. Keep her tied up, chained up or locked up somewhere safe and insight. Make sure to remind her of how pathetic she is, how desperate and needy she is, how much better she looks like this, how well used her age appropriate underwear always appears to be and how she will never be a real women again.

messy diapers are objectively icky and yet, they are SO fucking hot. literally nothing turns me on more than messing my diapers.

all of my hottest fantasies involve messy diapers OR are made hotter with a messy diaper.

backseat diaper change? how much hotter if it’s a stinky diaper?

using my diaper in someones lap? how much hotter if i’m filling the seat of my diaper with a mess while they hold me??

spankings over someones lap? imagine getting a long spanking and humiliating commentary while in a messy diaper?! how much hotter is THAT?!?!

being unable to hold it and uncontrollably using your diaper? much, MUCH hotter if it’s a big mess that you literally can’t help but push out into your diaper?

bedwetting? imagine waking up with a messy diaper?!

asking for a change and being told to wait? how much hotter if you have to go back to playing LEGOs in your stinky diaper?

being diaper checked and told you need a change? again, imagine it’s a stinky bulge in the back of your diaper that they feel, or pulling open the back waistband???

"Your wife is so fat and ugly so fuck me instead,"

"Look at me I'm so hot and you're frumpy and pathetic,"

"You're not good enough to fuck your husband,"

... and that's cool I'm glad some people are into that, but where are the cuckcakes that think you're pretty and adorable, just not sexy or sexual?

"Awe, sweetie, you know your husband isn't going to fuck a girl that can't keep her pants dry,"

"Of course your Daddy loves you, sweetie! But grown-up time is for grown ups only. Let's get you to bed, 8pm is too late for you!"

"I know you used to fuck your husband, hun, but now you poop your pants!"

You like that you still pee your pants.

You were born to pee your pants.

Literally, you were born incapable of not peeing your pants. It's not your fault someone forced you to learn to do something that didn't come naturally to you.

Wouldn't it feel so much better, to just let go? To stop worrying about silly things like "potty training" and "being an adult" and just go back to those days where you were still so small, worrying about nothing and just peeing your pants?

That's why you still pee your pants, isn't it? Because of the rush it gives you? Because you know it's "wrong?" Because society tells you that you're meant to be in control, meant to be "bigger" than such behavior?

Well guess what? I don't think you are meant to be in control. I think the world letting you have any control or say over anything is the worst thing that's ever happened to you. I think you yearn to have those choices and adult responsibilities taken from you, and it starts by giving in and just peeing your pants.

Who's gonna stop you? I mean, really, is anyone physically capable of preventing you from, right now, just relaxing your bladder muscles? Is anyone going to physically force you not to just... let it happen, let it all out, right there, wherever you are, even if it's embarrassing? You'd like to be embarrassed like that, wouldn't you?

So what's the point of denying it? I mean, if you start just peeing yourself wherever and whenever, people are going to start looking at you differently. It's inevitable. Keep it up, and it won't be long before the world finally sees you for what you really are, for what you've always wanted to be.

Include baby in your adult playtime with your real women - keep her in her play pen at the foot of your bed while you two enjoy some adult fun together. “See baby this is what a real women looks like.” “I bet you’d give anything to be let out of your chastity belt and wet nappies… but you don’t get big girl playtime anymore. You made your choice. Why don’t you just play with your blocks like a good girl while the grown ups enjoy some special time.” Forcing her to listen as she tries to distract herself with her age appropriate toys.

…

“Let’s get you in you crib nice and early tonight. Daddy is having some grown up time with his girlfriend so you get an early bedtime… I know baby but you don’t satisfy anyone’s needs - besides, we have an extra booster pad in your nappy tonight and your gonna need it by the time we let you out in the morning. Sleep well.” Leaving her trapped in her crib frustrated, horny and very pent up knowing she’s not getting a release anytime soon.”

…

I swear that in the moment I absolutely hate it!!! 😩😩😩. I hate the humiliation of being bared like a child with no inhibitions would.

But I do have inhibitions, yet my mommies don't care!!

I hate the shame that washes over me as my bum bum gets pow pow or worse a belt whoopin 😭😭😭

I hate how much of a silly baby I feel like laying on my back as mama changes me into a diapie. She’ll murmur out “uppies” and I just lift my legs back like a baby getting their tushy cleaned up after a potty accident 😖.

But then Alyssa or mama place me face down for a tummy time out. After the emotional rollercoaster that a diaper change and spanking take me through all I can do is cry and cry until i end up taking a tired little girl nap.

Ummmmm... and sometimes that ends up with me pottying in my diapie. Wwwaaahhhhh!!!! My mommies just know that their little Elliebear will do this. Why are they always right?! (Harrumphhhh)

And-and when I wake up to my woo woo and heiny nice and warm i can’t help but want to make humpies sirrrr 🙈🙈🥺

Imagine that feeling when you’re tucked away upstairs in your cozy little nursery, locked in your crib, wearing nothing but a crinkly, thick diaper and a soft, pastel unicorn onesie snapped over your padded crotch. Your pacifier is snug in your mouth, muffling those little whimpers as you suck on it hard, feeling that babyish comfort wash over you. Downstairs, your boyfriend is hosting a wild party—laughter, music, and clinking glasses echo through the house. He’s invited a bunch of girls, including his ex, and they’re all drinking, giggling, and having the time of their lives. But you? You’re up here, hidden away like a naughty little secret, playing with your magic wand buzzing on the soggy padding of your diaper.

Now picture this: your boyfriend set up a baby monitor, but it’s reversed. You’ve got the screen right in front of your crib, showing every filthy detail of the party downstairs. There he is, groping his ex’s ass in her tiny slutty skirt and thongs, pulling her close, kissing her deep while the other girls cheer and laugh. You watch him pin her against the wall, his hands all over her, fucking her right there in the living room while the party rages on. And that feeling, oh, that feeling as you’re watching your boyfriend fucking his ex as you suddenly completely lose control and start shitting in your diaper, The hot, huge mushy mess just bursts out of you, making a loud, wet sound as it quickly spreads, filling your thick diaper, forcing you to squirm helplessly in your crib. It’s so humiliating, knowing you’re up here messing yourself like a helpless baby while he’s down there having his fun.

You… and the Girl He Told You Not to Worry About

It was ridiculous, he'd told you. You were just insecure. Paranoid, even. You were imagining things where there were none. Cindy was just a friend. A good friend. A super nice, super confident, super capable, super talented…

Yeah, you got it. Everything you were not.

To be fair, you'd been on board with him inviting her for dinner. It was far better to meet this Cindy lady in person, wasn't it? Definitely better to meet her in the comfort of home… to hear her speak… to see and judge for yourself just how "super" she really was.

Not that she had disappointed.

"Oh, you're soo adorable!", she had gushed upon spying your awkward smile and hesitantly extended hand. She'd pulled you into an impetuous hug, never minding that you stood a head taller than her. "Steve tells me such amazing things about you! He's always saying how sweet you are, and how much you like cute things, you know… You're super into Hello Kitty, isn't that right?"

Dammit, Steve. Damn you and your big mouth!

But of course you hadn't been able to lie. Not with that hot, incriminating flush already spreading across your cheeks. Not with that heap of stuffies in your shared bed. And certainly not with your private knowledge of what had been beneath your skirt at that very moment: panties festooned with adorably printed baby kitties.

That had been six whole months ago.

Exactly how Cindy had wormed her way into your and Steve's lives, even you could hardly say. There'd been the shopping trips, of course. Those weekends hanging out at the café, all three of you. That time in the movie theater. And sure, you'd never suspected that along the way, your tiny bladder would become such a center of attention. But oh, it had. And with every lilting giggle of "Aww, you have to go again?!" – every motherly "Hey, you're sure you're not going to have an accident?" – well…

You'd become a bit less of a woman. In everyone's eyes – including your own.

Now here you stood: victim of your own body's failings and this woman's effusive attentions. Her hands tightened around your waist, her fingers tugging upward on the flimsy – and perilously short – skirt she'd gotten you. And oh, how sweetly she uttered those mortifying words at the sight of that new padding!

"This diaper looks so perfect on you, baby! You'll never have to worry about running to the potty again. I mean…" and here she chuckled wryly. "Not that you've had much success lately. But now you don't even have to try, do you?"

You opened your mouth to protest. You weren't the baby she was making you out to be. You weren't! All those accidents, those stained panties, those wet sheets over the past months… they were just flukes. You could be a big girl. You could, you really could-

"And honestly," she murmured, her voice slipping down into a confidential purr. "Steve's going to love you so much better like this. You know, he was telling me just the other night how much happier he is now in an open relationship. I can't really blame him, either. He doesn't need to worry about getting peed on when he's fucking, you know?"

No- no, that's not true! That's not-

"I mean, sure – we all know you said it was squirting. But as one woman to another, let me just say… I think we all know what it was, don't we? Don't we, baby?"

Your cheeks were afire, your pulse hammering. You wanted desperately to deny it. But… you couldn't. Not anymore.

"Anyway, don't worry!" Cindy giggled, her eyes dancing merrily at the sheer incongruity between your reflections. "He still says you're better than me at blow jobs. So let's just plan on that from now on, shall we? You can be our sweet little potty-pants partner, sucking off your man as often as you want. And when you're done sucking and swallowing like the good little slut you know you are… you can crinkle over to the doggie bed and let me handle part two. Mmm-hmm! Won't that be fun? Sitting there, watching the two of us fucking like real adults?"

You shuddered, the mental image searing into your brain. No- no, you couldn't- not that-

"But you know the best part?" Cindy's voice was whispering in your ear now, rippling with mirth. "I bet it's gonna be exciting for you, isn't it? Watching a new girlfriend fuck your darling hubbie? That's fine with me, sweetie! You can just sit there and watch… grinding and humping and piddling all you like… all snug and safe in your new diapers."

"And who knows?" She straightened once more, smirking back at your mortified reflection, her fingers toying with your pathetically tiny skirt. "You might even come to enjoy it!"

Not being allowed to take it off or push it to one side, girlie has to just endure having the magic wand pushed against her special area, all safely taped up behind the thick rustling plastic and all of her wet warm accidents that smush against her. (It’s the only pleasure she’s accustom to anymore.) softly moaning into her pacifier as she screams, being hit with waves of pleasure. She doesn’t get any control at all. The grown ups hold the vibrating wand under the guise of “she’s too little” to do anything for herself. She doesn’t decide when it ends, that’s not her choice either. It could be one orgasm or she could be repeatedly forced to cum over and over again until she’s a sobby, soar, overstimulated, hot blushy mess.

After princess has had her fun, give her some gentle encouraging pats and send her off to play or to take a nap. She’s not allowed a change. In the post orgasm glow and come down she can feel all of the shame that’s resulted in her humiliating herself to this level. Peeing her pants and making messy accidents just to own the grown ups approval to cum. Sitting in her nappy -well soaked with all of her many different types of accidents princess can reflect about the decisions she’s made that have leak her to this point in her life.