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The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. He stirred, still half-asleep, until the cold, damp sensation beneath him jolted him awake. His heart sank as he realized what had happened—he had wet the bed.

Panic set in as he sat up, his mind racing. He hadn’t worn diapers in over 20 years. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Not now. Not ever.

Before he could even think of what to do, the door creaked open. His mom stepped inside, followed by a woman he hadn’t seen in years—his distant aunt, who had visited once when he was still in diapers as a toddler.

"Good morning, sweetie!" his mom said cheerfully, oblivious to the disaster on the bed. "Look who’s here! Your aunt came all the way from—"

His aunt’s sharp gasp cut her off. Her eyes darted to the wet spot on the bed, then to his horrified face. Without missing a beat, she stepped forward, blocking his mom’s view.

"Oh, dear, I just remembered!" his aunt said, her voice overly bright. "You were telling me about those relatives in the countryside, weren’t you? Why don’t you go visit them? I’ll stay here and keep an eye on things."

His mom hesitated, glancing between them.

"Are you sure? I mean, I wasn’t planning to—"

"Nonsense!" his aunt interrupted, her tone firm but cheerful. "It’s the perfect time. Go on, take a break. I’ll handle everything here."

His mom finally nodded, smiling.

"Well, if you insist. I’ll pack my bags right away."

As soon as she left the room, his aunt turned to him, her expression shifting from cheerful to stern.

"So," she said, crossing her arms. "Care to explain this little accident?"

He swallowed hard, his face burning.

"It… it was just a one-time thing," he stammered. "Please, don’t tell Mom. I’ll handle it."

His aunt raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced.

"A one-time thing, huh? Well, we’ll see about that. But for now…" She reached into her bag and pulled out a thick, crinkly diaper. "I didn’t come empty-handed. I brought you a gift. It’s a PlayStation 5… but it’s for big boys who don’t wet the bed. So, until you prove you can handle that, this is your new reality."

He stared at the diaper in horror, his mind racing with excuses.

"I can’t wear that! I have a girlfriend, and classes, and—what if someone sees?!"

His aunt smirked, her tone unyielding.

"Oh, honey, no one wants a boyfriend who wets the bed. Now, let’s get you cleaned up."

Reluctantly, he obeyed, his face burning with shame as she helped him into the diaper. The thick padding felt foreign and humiliating, but there was no escaping it.

As she fastened the tabs with a firm pat, she glanced down and let out a soft laugh.

"Well, at least we won’t need to worry about that getting in the way," she said, her tone teasing.

He didn’t need to ask what she meant. His face burned even hotter as he realized she was referring to his… size.

"There," she said, standing back to admire her handiwork. "All set. Now, let’s see how long it takes for you to earn that PlayStation."

She woke up to the sound of sniffling. Vision blurry, she fumbled around the bed one-handed, searching for the source. She patted the blankets where he should have been. He wasn’t there. She sat up, worry pushing away the veil of sleep. She switched on the light and glanced around the room. She immediately saw it. The blankets were askew at the edge of their bed, dropping off to pool on the floor. In an instant, she was there. He was lying on the floor, blanket clutched tightly in one fist, covering his head with the other. She knelt down, a little note of panic slipping into her voice.

“What’s wrong, dear? What happened? Are you hurt?” He moved his hand, looking up at her with tear-brimmed eyes. “Why am I like this?” His voice broke on the last word, and he pulled the blanket back over his head. She sat on the bed beside him.

“Like what?” she coaxed.

“Like I like being treated like a baby and wearing diapers and crap. What the hell is wrong with me?”

She reached out to touch him. He didn’t move.

“Nothing is wrong with you. Why does there have to be something wrong with you?” She shook her head sadly. It wasn’t the first time this had happened, and it probably wouldn’t be the last.

He tore off the blankets. “Because,” he spat, “I get off on wearing diapers and being babied and I’m a grown man! What’s the difference between me and a fucking pedo? I shouldn’t be like this!”

She could feel the denial and self-loathing rolling off him like waves. It hurt her heart. “What should you be like?”

He floundered. “I don’t know… just something… something… normal.” The fire doused as quickly as it lit, and she saw his shoulders slump. “I just wish I was different.”

She cupped his chin and forced him to look her in the eye. “Do you want to do anything involving kids?” She saw his eyes spark and his face crumpled in disgust.

“Of course not!”

“Do you think I do those things with you because I like kids?” Her voice was sterner.

He stuttered and shook his head. “Absolutely not. I wouldn’t be with you if I even thought that.”

Her eyes held him. “So, clearly there is a difference between you and criminals.” She reached behind his head and gently pulled it into her lap. His breath tickled her thigh and she felt tears on her skin. “There’s nothing wrong with you. You don’t want to hurt anyone. You don’t involve others without their consent.” She began to stroke his hair.

“Everyone has their kinks. There’s nothing wrong with exploring it with a consenting adult. If your thing is being cared for and loved with a little humiliation and diapers thrown in… really who cares?”

“But… but its not normal,” he mumbled.

“No, it’s not, but why does that matter, really? I love you. I love being with you. I love taking care of you. I love seeing you waddle around. I love that little giggle of yours when I tickle you, and that pouty face you get when you don’t get your way. I love talking with you. God, I love sex with you. I love your cute onesies, and your pacis, and everything. I don’t care what other people think is “normal”. It isn’t any of their business anyway.” She sunk down to the floor and wrapped her arms around him. He felt so small then. She rubbed his back and felt his breathing slow. “I love everything about you, Baby. It’s ok. You’re a good boy.”

He looked up at her with tear filled eyes. “I love you too, Momma.”

She smiled tenderly and kissed his forehead. “I know, Baby.”

“What?” I noticed her hesitant expression as she held the Valentine's Day gift I had gotten her, “You don’t like it?”

“Well…” She trailed off as she stared at the gold earrings, “It’s just a little… mature for you is all.”

“…Mature?” I questioned, not entirely sure where this was going.

“Why don’t you open your gift,” she gestured to the elegantly wrapped package, “that will probably be easier than explaining.”

I unwrapped the package with intentional care, like the wrong move might somehow make it blow up in my face. Inside, I discovered the gift my girlfriend had gotten me: a onesie with a snap crotch for diaper changes that had a cartoon dinosaur in a diaper plastered onto it.

“Babe, I—“ I started, but she interrupted by slipping a green pacifier that matched the onesie into my mouth.

“Not babe,” she held the pacifier in my mouth with one authoritative finger, “try Mommy.”

“Mowmmy?” I lisped from behind the pacifier.

“Good boy!” She tussled my hair.

“Hmm?” I moaned behind the pacifier, confused.

“It’s adorable that you’re still not getting it, honey!” She giggled, “I’m so proud of you for telling me about this little side of yourself, but you really should’ve told me more. I can’t believe you thought ‘I like to feel small and taken care of’ covered your needs!”

“Sowry, b-but I was shy!”

“That’s ridiculous, silly boy!” She smiled, “we’ve been together long enough that I want you to feel comfortable telling me anything… But because you’re a big baby that can’t use his big boy words, I had to find your tumblr instead.”

“You wha–” My heart sank in fear.

“That’s right, mister!” She smiled deviously, “You really didn’t tell me anything! So as punishment, I’m going to be giving you everything you wanted and then some. No more big boy potty; you’ll wear diapers until you’re tired of depending on mommy for clean padding, and then you’ll keep wearing them until I say you can stop. You’ll have a strict 8PM bedtime and be punished with spankings and time outs when you act out. Understand?”

“But–” I tried to respond.

“Sounds like you’re not getting it,” She released an exasperated sigh, “I suppose little ones need ample opportunities to learn, so let’s start with getting you nice and diapered.”

“What? Wait!”

She grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me to the couch where she sweetly but firmly pressured me to lay down. She pulled out a diaper and baby powder from underneath the couch, obviously expecting the night to end up here one way or another.

I was too starstruck by her momentum and determination to do anything other than let her man-handle me, and soon enough, I found myself in an infantile diaper, onesie, and matching pacifier.

“Don’t you look adorable!” My girlfriend –or Mommy now, I guess– pinched my cheeks.

“T-thanku, Mommy?” I cautiously accepted the compliment.

“Now you’re getting it, baby boy!”

I couldn’t help but blush at her infantile praise. A part of me was definitely scared of what she had in store, knowing the depraved and humiliating content I engaged with on tumblr, but I couldn’t deny that a part of me was also enjoying this.

“Now, Mommy’s going to pour herself a glass of wine and watch her show while you color on the floor — supervised, of course! Doesn’t that sound nice!”

“Uhhhmm… yes?” I acquiesced, left little other choice by her firm tone.

“Oh, and while you’re coloring, you can work on a more… appropriate Valentines gift for Mommy,” she winked at me, “Unless you want to see how hard Mommy can spank.”

Mommy laughed as I quickly shook my head ‘no’.

As I colored on the floor in my onesie and diaper, I made sure to make the crayon drawing as sweet and as childish as possible. Mommy even teased me for not realizing I was sticking my tongue out in concentration.

Finally, my masterpiece was finished. It was a drawing of Mommy and I, though it was hard to tell because they were stick figures, riding a diapered dinosaur with the words “Happy Valentine’s Day, Mommy!” Scribbled onto the paper in messy, pink crayon.

Mommy was overjoyed when I gave it to her:

“This is adorable, baby! I’ll put it right on the fridge where everyone can see it; that way all my friends can see it when they meet my new baby boyfriend at our Galentines day party tomorrow!”

I gulped; this will definitely be a Valentine’s gift to remember.

————————————————————————

As Always, All Characters Depicted are 18+

The Keyholder

"Coochie-coochie-coo!! Ahh-coochie-coochie-coo!! Whose da most adorwable widdle man-baybee in da whole wide world?? Who is it?! Huh?? Who is it??"

She dangled the stupid ring of rainbow plastic keys right in front of my burning face, letting them swing like a taunting pendulum. Each jingle felt like a slap to whatever scraps of adult dignity I had left. She knew exactly how much the infantilizing tone shredded me...and she loved watching it happen.

“D'awww!! look at youuuu! Look at Mommy’s big, helpless, padded princess all squirmy and desperate in his crinkly diapee! Does my sweet baybee boy see something he wikes? Hmm? Does he?”

She swung the keys closer, letting them brush the tip of my nose before snatching them back with a playful giggle. Her eyes sparkled with pure, wicked delight.

“Ohhh nooo…is something wongg??" she gasped in mock surprise, pressing a manicured hand to her chest. "Are these not the keys you wanted, sweetie-pie? These silly, jangly baybee keys that go clickity-clack and jingle-jingle-jingle? Silly me! I thought my widdle locked-up loser only wanted pretty plastic toys to play with!” She tilted her head, batting her lashes like she was genuinely puzzled. “You’re...you're not still thinking about these big, scary metal keys Mommy’s keeping nice and warm between her boobies, are you? Because those are for real grown-up boys! Not for silly little diaper messers like you!”

I whimpered, the sound coming out high, broken, and pathetic. The real keys—the ones that could finally free my aching, denied cock—were tucked right there in her cleavage, glinting just enough to torture me. My hips twitched uselessly, my cage throbbing inside the padding in protest.

“P-please, Mommy…” I tried, but she cut me off with a theatrical gasp.

“Uh-uh-uh!" She tutted, wagging her finger "No big-boy words, princess. If you want these special keys soooo badly, you’re gonna have to earn them the only way a baybee like you can. I want the most ridiculous, drooly, adorable baybee babbles you’ve ever made. I want raspberries. I want goo-goo ga-ga’s so silly they make me laugh till I cry. I want you waving those useless little mitten paws like you’re trying to fly to the moon. I want drool running down your chin, legs kicking in the air, the whole nine yards! Show Mommy how pathetic her locked-up diaper boy can be, and maybe—just maybe—I’ll think about it.”

My face burned hotter than the sun. But the ache between my legs and the way her voice wrapped around me like warm honey made resistance impossible. I hesitated at first, clinging to my last shred of dignity, but eventually the throbbing ache in my balls won out. I lifted my mittened hands and started flapping them wildly in front of my face like a little bird.

“Goo goo! Ga ga! Ma-ma! Ba-ba-baaa!” I whimpered in the highest, most ridiculous pitch I could manage. Spit flew from my lips as I blew the wettest, longest raspberry I’d ever made—ppppppbbbbbtttt!—right into the air. Drool immediately started sliding down my chin in a shiny trail. I didn’t wipe it. Just let rain across my chin and cheeks instead.

I rolled onto my back, kicking my padded legs up high in frantic bicycle kicks. The diaper crinkled so loudly it echoed off the nursery walls. “Ah-goo! Ah-goo-goo! Pwease pwease pwease, Mommy! Bay-bee need keys! Wittle baby so hawny in his diapee! Pppppbbbbbtttt! Goo-goo-ga-ga-goo!”

In a desperate attempt to earn more performance points, I flopped over onto my tummy, shoved my face into the mat, lifted my bottom high in the air and wiggled it back and forth like a happy puppy while still babbling nonsense. “Ma-ma! Ba-ba-ba! Wuv you Mommy! Pwease keys! Pwease unlocky!! Drooly bay-bee! Cage so tight! Wahhh-wahh!!!”

When I finally looked up, panting, drooling, chest heaving, my stomach plummeted. Mommy had her phone raised the whole time. The white light shining like a bright sign to show she'd been filming the whole thing.

Mommy clapped her hands together in delighted, mocking applause, her voice dripping with exaggerated sweetness. “Oh my goooodness gracious! Look at that wittle tushie shaking! And those silly mitten waves! Who’s Mommy’s most ridiculous, drooly, desperate little diaper dumper, huh?? Is it you? Is it youuuu? Awww, you’re making such a big mess of yourself! Look at all that drool! Look at how pathetic you look!!”

I cringed in shame, head hung low, but despite it all, I was proud of my little performance. I looked up at her hopefully, drool still dripping down my chin.

She tilted her head and her eyes danced across the ceiling, she even tapped her lip to show that she was pretending to think. "Hmm...that was pretty good..." she mused, then shrugged. “But…i'm afraid it wasn’t quite good enough, sweetie." Her eyes twinkled with mischief. "Not for the real keys. I think Mommy needs to see even more desperation next time.”

My heart sank. A pathetic whine escaped me, like a dog denied its treat.

“Awww, don’t cry, my precious little padded prince!” she cooed, stroking my hair with one hand while still dangling the plastic keys with the other. “Mommy’s got a special consolation prize for her brave little babbler. Here… you can try these keys instead. Go on, take them, honey. Show Mommy how you’d unlock yourself if you were a big boy.”

Before I could even process it, she reached down, popped the tapes on my diaper with two quick rips, and peeled the front down. The cool air hit me instantly. My diaper was absolutely drenched, the entire front was dark yellow and sagging heavily. And there, completely exposed, was my steel chastity cage. My balls were swollen into large, purple plums. The tip of my denied cock was pressed hard against the end of the tube, leaking a steady, humiliating ropes of clear precum that ran down the cage and soaked into the already-wet padding beneath me. It glistened obscenely under the nursery lights. I looked so completely broken, purple, throbbing, and utterly helpless.

“Awww, would you look at that leaky little mess!” Mommy cooed, voice dripping with fake sympathy, then she pressed the plastic keys into my mittened hands. "Here, why dont you try to unlock yourself, sweetie! You never know...maybe one of these silly keys will actually work!" She inclined her head and gave me a firm look. One that told me I better play her little game for her amusement if I knew what was good for me. She lifted her phone again, and aimed it at me once more.

With a defeated sigh, I fumbled with the keys as much as my useless mittens would allow. Eventually, I managed to press one against the tiny lock with a clack. Nothing, of course. But I did it again anyway, more out of frustration than anything. Clack clack clack.

“Awww! Looks like that wasn’t the one…” she tsked, lips pursed in exaggerated disappointment. “Maybe try another, baby. Mommy’s rooting for you!”

I whimpered and whined pathetically as I performed another pitiful display for her. Fumbling the stupid plastic keys until i had one pressed between my mittens so I could pretend to give it an honest shot at unlocking me. Even with how futile the exercise was, my caged cock still twitched and bobbed in anticipation each time I pressed the plastic against it. Like it was too dazed to even understand. It just wanted out. But instead it had to endure this cruel torture.

Every clumsy attempt made the cage bounce and more precum ooze out in a fresh drip. I looked utterly ridiculous, drool still on my chin, soaked diaper open like a flag of surrender, mittens flapping as I poked at my own locked-up, leaking genitals.

Mommy’s giggles bubbled up brighter with every futile clack. “Ohhh, listen to that little symphony! Clack-clack-clack… drip-drip-drip… Poke-poke-poke! Look how swollen those poor balls are! So purple and tight and so full. And still nothing opens. Isn’t it just the cutest thing?? My big strong husband, reduced to drooling and leaking while he pokes his own cage with baybee toys… poor widdle guy!!"

She leaned in closer, the phone still rolling, her tone dipping into something sharper, sweeter, more cutting.

“Maybe if I hadn’t found a key to another woman’s apartment on your ring, we wouldn’t be in this little situation now, would we?? Hmm? Maybe if my husband hadn’t been sneaking around into someone else’s front door… Mommy wouldn’t have had to take away the only key that really matters. The one to your pathetic, leaky little pee-pee!”

The words landed like a slap. My stomach twisted. Heat flooded my face anew. The plastic key I’d been fumbling slipped again, landing in the sodden landscape of my diaper. My cock gave one last helpless throb, another thick rope of precum sliding free, but the shame burned hotter than the ache.

I couldn’t hold it back anymore. The babbling spilled out before I could stop it. High, broken and desperate.

“Pwease… Mommy… pwease…” My voice cracked into that humiliating infantile whine, mittens flapping weakly. “Pwease… pwease open for bay-bee… I sowwy… I so sowwy… no more bad boy… just Mommy’s bay-bee… pwease unlocky… pwease pwease pwease…”

The words tumbled faster, wet and garbled around the drool still coating my chin. “Goo goo… ma-ma… bay-bee need keys… weal keys… no more secwets… pwease Mommy… I be good… I be good widdle bay-bee fowevew… pppbbbttt… pwease open cage… pwease…”

I kept poking anyway. Clack, clack, clack. Each useless jab punctuated by another whimper, another plea, another fresh drip. The mittens slapped against my thighs, the keys kept sliding, and my whole body shook with the effort of debasing myself further, trying to erase what I’d done with sheer, ridiculous surrender.

Mommy’s smile widened, slow and satisfied, like she’d been waiting for exactly this collapse.

“That’s it, princess,” she cooed softly, almost tenderly. “Let it all out. Tell Mommy how sorry you are. Keep babbling, keep leaking, keep poking like the pathetic little diaper boy you are. Show the camera what real remorse looks like.”

I didn’t stop. The words kept coming. Goo goo's, pweases, sowwy's, ma-ma's, all mixed with wet raspberries and broken sobs, until finally the last key slipped from my useless mittens and clattered onto my wet, throbbing balls with a final, pathetic tinkle.

She tapped the screen her phone a few times, and I heard the unmistakable swoosh of a message being sent.

“We’ll see what my girlfriends decide. Maybe they will think your pathetic little baybee babble and apology is enough” she said sweetly. “Or maybe your little followers on Tumblr will have mercy on you. But judging by the last few polls… I wouldn’t get your hopes up, princess.”

She snapped the same cold, wet diaper back up tight over my still-leaking, still-throbbing cage with a few rips and crackly crinkles. "But until then..." she scooped the plastic keys back up, going right back to giggling and cooing once more.

𝘈𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘣𝘰𝘺 💕

What did I do to deserve such an adorable little boyfriend? I smiled to myself as he sat on the rug, watching Bluey. The soft suckling of his pacifier was barely audible. He was at peace, lost in his own little world. I felt a swelling of joy and pride in my chest as I reflected on when he told me about his little side. I was surprised, sure, but seeing him here, fully relaxed and trusting in my care as his partner and mommy… I wouldn’t trade this for the world.

I was enjoying the view so much that I was almost tempted to let him stay up past his bedtime. Almost. I locked at the clock, which read 8:01, and reminded myself that helping him get consistent sleep was also a part of that care and trust between us.

“Sweetheart,” I said gently, getting his attention, “it’s bedtime.”

“O-Tay Mommy,” he replied obediently, not even bothering to take his paci out.

“Come on,” I led him away by the hand, “Let’s get you into your jammies and ready for bed.”

I had dressed him in one of our go-to outfits today: khaki shorts and one of his favorite Dino t-shirts.

“I changed you not too long ago, so you should be good to sleep in that diapie,” I pulled down his shorts and gave his padding and exploratory squish.

He wasn’t *very* wet, but he was hard.

“Goodness baby,” I purred, “Did mommy checking your diapie get you all excited?”

“Y-yes mommy,” he blushed as he bashfully looked at the floor. He was adorable, delicious even. I couldn’t stop what happened next.

“Oh, How can I resist you when you’re this freaking cute!?” I ripped his Dino shirt over his head, and placed a firm, guiding hand on his chest. I then pushed him all the way back to his crib, bars still lowered, and shoved him onto the mattress.

“M-mommy?” He eyed me excitedly.

“Just a second Sweetheart,” I pulled off my blouse and stepped out of my jeans, “You’ve been such a good boy recently that Mommy thinks you deserve a reward.”

“Alright then,” he growled in anticipation, reaching for the tapes on his diaper.

“I don’t think so mister,” I swatted his hand away, “Your diaper stays on.”

“B-but”

“Shhhh,” I pushed him onto his back and planted an indulgent kiss on his cheek before expanding my affectionate barrage to his neck.

He moaned and trembled with every brush of my warm lips on his skin. He was utterly mine, defenseless to my affections.

I felt my panties grow wetter as I devoured my helpless boyfriend with my eyes. He really couldn’t do anything to resist me; how could he? I was his mommy, and he was my baby.

I began to rock my hips over his padding, listening to the chorus of crinkles and his emboldened moans.

Then I sped up. It only took a minute or two before he was begging in the only way he could:

“M-Mommy… mommy-mommy-mommy!” He cried out rapidly, which I had come to learn meant that he was about to cum.

“Yeah baby?” My sultry voice rumbled forth, “Are you gonna make cummies in your wittle diapie for mommy?”

“Ughhh!” His body twitched under me as he spurted into his thirsty padding.

“Good boy,” I moaned but continued grinding. I straddled my boy’s diaper faster and faster, panting as I did, until I eventually found my own climax. Then, I collapsed into my baby’s waiting arms.

“I— I’m sorry,” he said quietly, “For cumming too quick to have big kid sex…”

“Oh sweetheart,” I planted another kiss on his cheek, “I love how fast you come for me. It only proves that you’re so helplessly and tantalizingly mine. Plus, I wouldn’t keep you in diapers if I thought you could hold it, silly…”

He blushed at that but said nothing more.

“Now,” I caressed his face as I rested on his chest, “It’s way past someone’s bedtime, so let’s get some sleep.”

“Okay,” he said sleepily. “I love you, Mommy.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

Then, we passed out in each other’s arms and slept the night in his crib. I smiled to myself as I drifted off; this baby boy was mine, and I couldn’t be happier.

————————————————————————

As always, all characters depicted are 18*

She woke up to the sound of sniffling. Vision blurry, she fumbled around the bed one-handed, searching for the source. She patted the blankets where he should have been. He wasn’t there. She sat up, worry pushing away the veil of sleep. She switched on the light and glanced around the room. She immediately saw it. The blankets were askew at the edge of their bed, dropping off to pool on the floor. In an instant, she was there. He was lying on the floor, blanket clutched tightly in one fist, covering his head with the other. She knelt down, a little note of panic slipping into her voice.

“What’s wrong, dear? What happened? Are you hurt?” He moved his hand, looking up at her with tear-brimmed eyes. “Why am I like this?” His voice broke on the last word, and he pulled the blanket back over his head. She sat on the bed beside him.

“Like what?” she coaxed.

“Like I like being treated like a baby and wearing diapers and crap. What the hell is wrong with me?”

She reached out to touch him. He didn’t move.

“Nothing is wrong with you. Why does there have to be something wrong with you?” She shook her head sadly. It wasn’t the first time this had happened, and it probably wouldn’t be the last.

He tore off the blankets. “Because,” he spat, “I get off on wearing diapers and being babied and I’m a grown man! What’s the difference between me and a fucking pedo? I shouldn’t be like this!”

She could feel the denial and self-loathing rolling off him like waves. It hurt her heart. “What should you be like?”

He floundered. “I don’t know… just something… something… normal.” The fire doused as quickly as it lit, and she saw his shoulders slump. “I just wish I was different.”

She cupped his chin and forced him to look her in the eye. “Do you want to do anything involving kids?” She saw his eyes spark and his face crumpled in disgust.

“Of course not!”

“Do you think I do those things with you because I like kids?” Her voice was sterner.

He stuttered and shook his head. “Absolutely not. I wouldn’t be with you if I even thought that.”

Her eyes held him. “So, clearly there is a difference between you and criminals.” She reached behind his head and gently pulled it into her lap. His breath tickled her thigh and she felt tears on her skin. “There’s nothing wrong with you. You don’t want to hurt anyone. You don’t involve others without their consent.” She began to stroke his hair.

“Everyone has their kinks. There’s nothing wrong with exploring it with a consenting adult. If your thing is being cared for and loved with a little humiliation and diapers thrown in… really who cares?”

“But… but its not normal,” he mumbled.

“No, it’s not, but why does that matter, really? I love you. I love being with you. I love taking care of you. I love seeing you waddle around. I love that little giggle of yours when I tickle you, and that pouty face you get when you don’t get your way. I love talking with you. God, I love sex with you. I love your cute onesies, and your pacis, and everything. I don’t care what other people think is “normal”. It isn’t any of their business anyway.” She sunk down to the floor and wrapped her arms around him. He felt so small then. She rubbed his back and felt his breathing slow. “I love everything about you, Baby. It’s ok. You’re a good boy.”

He looked up at her with tear filled eyes. “I love you too, Momma.”

She smiled tenderly and kissed his forehead. “I know, Baby.”

"Shh," she murmured once again. "No more struggles, baby. Shhh. Just let it happen…"

Not that he had much of a choice anymore.

Still Jake, fired by the last desperate remnants of his rational adult self, slurred out from behind the rubber nipple of the feeding bottle. "Buh- but, Audree- I can't. I godda- godda be weesponfhabull…" To which she only laughed softly and thrust the bottle nipple further in, effectively silencing her protesting fiancé. "What a silly little fellow you are! Don't worry, baby. I've taken care of everything already. Everything's gonna be okay, I promise. Just hush up and drink for me now…"

As his mute eyes drifted up to hers, questioning and unsure, Audrey smiled down into them and stroked his brown locks affectionately. "Really, baby! I know how much this means to you, so I've taken care of everything." She pulled the bottle out to let a gasping burble of air slip in through the nipple, then pressed it home once more between the diaper-clad young man's lips. "Fine, I'll tell you what I've done, baby. But only as long as you keep drinking like a good boy…"

Jake's suckling redoubled, and she sighed and glanced up reflectively, recollecting the events of the past twenty-four hours. "Let's see, honey. It was early this morning that we got the email, wasn't it? From your doctor, of course. She said there was no reason not to file for a medical accommodation, and she even sent along the paperwork we needed."

She smiled softly and glanced back down over her suckling charge's thickly padded crotch. "So that was it, really. I took care of the rest for you: sending it to your work's HR department, for starters. And forwarding it on to our insurance, naturally. Oh, and of course… well, I knew we'd have to do it eventually. So I sent a little note to your folks and to mine – just so they know you're okay…"

She smiled into the muted, confused panic welling in his eyes. "Aww, honey, don't worry! I promise it's okay. They already sent back super nice responses, too – all about how grateful they are that you're fine, and that I'm helping you out with such a sensitive health issue, and that they're more than okay with making sure you're properly protected whenever you visit…"

Another withdrawal of the bottle, and another renewed suckling from her increasingly uncoordinated and limp fiancé. "So don't worry one bit, dearest. All you have to do is let me take charge, just like you've been begging me for months. Just relax, and let the medicine do its job. Let your sweetheart take over. She knows just how much you've been wanting to become her little diaper baby. She knows just how much you need this. You're safe now: safe, and locked back in diapers like we both know you want…"

As Jake's eyes drooped and his bare thighs sagged limply apart, a mute testament to his drug-induced incapacitation, Audrey beamed gently down at her adorable, overgrown diaper baby. Truth be told, she'd come to crave this as much as he, these past few months. Thinking about taking over, being a motherly caretaker, gently thrusting her sweetheart further and further down into sweetly humiliating babyhood… Well, she hadn't set out to have such a kinky, unconventional relationship. But by god, it was fast becoming one of the most intensely satisfying parts of her life.

Now, then. Thanks to that powerful combination of sleeping tonic, muscle relaxant, and diuretic, within a few more minutes this adorable little baby boy of hers would be out like a light. And with any luck, he'd wake up not merely a padded, disoriented baby boy, sitting up in his new makeshift crib in nothing but a diaper. He'd wake up thoroughly wet, staring confusedly down at his soggy pampers that would serve as a visible testament to the truth of that doctor's note: that he was now, in fact, diaper dependent.

And if by some miracle he actually remained dry? Well, that note would still work wonders. Because now that everyone else in his life expected him to be diapered, it would only be a matter of time before his reliance on them turned from hot little fantasy into warm, squishy, padded reality.

So Audrey smiled, knowing that she had just given her dear fiancé the most terrifyingly wonderful gift in the world.

Image Credit: @abdreams

I can still picture the first night I met him. A packed club, the air hot and loud, bodies pressed together under flashing lights. I felt his gaze before I even saw him, bold, lingering, fixed on my butt every time I moved. Most guys I’d roll my eyes at, but something about the way he watched made me smile. It wasn’t sleazy. It was hungry and a little shy, like he couldn’t help himself.

One song led to another, and somehow we ended up dancing together. Closer, closer, until the music blurred and his lips found mine. That kiss turned into numbers exchanged, nights out, and then mornings in. Before long, we weren’t strangers anymore, we were us.

For a while, everything was easy. Teasing, touching, the kind of spark where you can’t stop wanting more. He still couldn’t keep his eyes off me, and I loved catching him at it. Then, one quiet night, he told me something different. Something real.

It came out haltingly, with a blush he couldn’t hide. He trusted me with his secret—that sometimes he wore diapers. Not because he needs the, but for fun. He half expected me to laugh, maybe even walk away. But I didn’t. Instead, I asked him to show me.

The first time I saw him padded up, he looked both terrified and adorable, like he couldn’t decide whether to hide or run towards me. I reached out instinctively, palm sinking into the soft bulk of his nappy. He shivered, cheeks burning, and I knew then I was hooked. It wasn’t weird. It was tender, intimate, something that pulled me closer instead of pushing me away.

Now, the roles have flipped. It used to be him sneaking glances at me. These days, I’m the one checking him out, his thickly padded bum, snug under those childish prints he loves. When we’re lying together, I can’t resist. My hand drifts there without thought, squeezing, patting, poking until he squirms and buries his face. Sometimes I tease, sometimes I comfort, but either way I don’t want to let go.

It’s become our quiet language. The way he wiggles when I press too firmly. The warm squish when his nappy is soggy and swollen. The trust in his eyes when I touch his diapered bum, no shame between us anymore.

Looking back, it’s almost funny. From that man in the club sneaking looks at my ass, to the boy I can’t keep my hands off now, it feels like a perfect circle. Only now, the center of my attention isn’t what he used to stare at. It’s his padded, soggy butt, soft and irresistible, right under my palm.

The first time that I hear the name Chad referenced is on the first time I meet Angela’s friends, and it comes in the form of an off-hand compliment–or, perhaps, put-down, depending on your perspective. Angela’s friend Lacy says: “Oh, this guy is much more mature than Chad.” Maybe, if the comment had just elicited a few little chuckles and grins before the conversation got back on track again, I wouldn’t have thought about it much. But the response to this remark really surprised me. Angela and her friends laughed loudly together–with them cackling while tears formed in their eyes. I watched as Bethany mimicked sucking her thumb, while Sarah curled up her fists and pretended to rub them under her eyes like a bawling toddler.

Context clues suggested that Chad was an ex-boyfriend of Angela’s–someone that Angela had eluded to in vague stories before, though I had never had a name for. The way the girls carried on about this, while a little amusing to watch, was still curious to me. Why all the allusions to baby-ish behavior? The ‘mature’ comment, too, seemed specifically damning. 

Later, after Angela and I had left the company of her friends for the evening, I decided to just come out and ask: “So, what’s the joke about this Chad guy you used to date? He acted like a baby or something?”

Angela, in that frank-but-mysterious nature she often had, simply said: “He didn’t act like a baby. He was a baby. Probably still is.”

Every day she would sit watching and giving words of encouragement as he humped a stack of pillows in pink clothes. He would continue to hump until he spurted into his wet pampers. In the warm glow of post orgasm, he lifted his head and looked to his girlfriend.

"So, when can we have sex babe? I really need to feel that warm pussy around my cock, it's been forever!" He sighed.

"Well, that's a pretty rude way to ask. And it's Mommy to you baby, you know this." She stated.

"I'll tell you what, when you can prove to mommy you that don't need diapies anymore. Then we can talk about my pussy and whether or not I'll let you put your little weewee inside of me. Until then you'll be making stickies in your diapies. Okay sweety?"

"What! I can't prove it when you keep me in diapers all the time. And I'm wetting them so often now it's hard to control. It's not fair! This was just a kink I wanted to try. We've had fun, but I think it's gone on long enough." He whined.

"It may have been your idea to try out this age play kink, but I've become quite fond of the whole scene. Too bad for you maybe love it more than you thought I would humm? Oh well, I love it and we're going to keep living it! So, you'll just have to make do with your diapies sweety!" She said smiling.

"But it's not the same mommy!" He whined again.

"What's not the same hun?"

"The feeling of humping in my diapers. I need to feel you, your pussy".

"Oh? I think it's close enough for a silly diaper boy like you." She teased.

"Nuh uh!" He whimpered.

"Oh yes huh! I bet you don't even know what mommy's pussy even feels like. Tell me baby, what does mommy's pussy feel like? She mused.

"Umm I don't know... It's probably warm, and wet, and soft; It's tight and squishy too. He said proudly. "Aww baby, you just described your diapies, good boy!" She praised.

"Nu no didn't" He protested.

"Yep, I think so. You just said squishy, and what else did you say? Soft, are your diapies also soft baby? Maybe sometimes it's even a little sung and almost like it's 'tight? Yeah, I bet it feels so good when it's swelled up big with your stiff willy huh, nice and warm too like a pussy I bet? Aww, I think you really love your 'diapy pussy' don't you baby boy? I think you do. You love your humpy time in your diapies with mommy watching, putting on a show for me. I think I should almost be jealous of you two, a baby and his diapies, ha ha that's so adorable." She chuckled.

"Yeah, I guess so...bu.." He said interrupted.

"So, there you have it baby boy, you've just admitted that your diapies feel like mommy's pussy already, so you should enjoy them. Besides it's as close to a real pussy as your cummies will ever spurt into since I've decided that there'll be no pussy, just pampers for you from now on. You're mommy's pathetic little virgin baby." She stated staring him down.

With this news, he broke down in tears, begging his mommy to change her mind.

"You have proven that you're no man, but a whiny wittle baby and babies don't get pussy, they get pampers. I am no longer your girlfriend, I am your mommy and you are my baby, so get used to it. In fact..."

With this, she took out a marker and wrote something on the front of the diaper, when he looked down, he saw the following:

Even more freaked out, he broke down in utter despair.

"However, there is a bright side to this, you will no longer be making humpies, but mommy herself will wub your wittle willy until you make cummies, it is my duty as a mommy to ensure that her baby's needs are met afterall."

With this, he felt a little better, but was still wailing.

"And not only that, but you'll be nursing from me as well. I've finally started lactating, so it's only fair that you help relieve me too right baby?

She then abruptly changed him and pulled him into her lap and pushed her nipple into his mouth, he struggled at first, but in no time, he was sucking away at mommy's boobies. As she began rubbing his crotch, he moaned in ecstasy.

"Good baby, isn't being fed and rubbed by mommy so much better than pounding her? This is much more representative of our relationship plus I can tell you're really enjoying this."

He suckled away, the taste of the milk was surprisingly delicious, that and the fact that his mommy was expertly rubbing his willy through his pampers, was pushing him to the edge.

"Is my wittle baby having fun? I thought he was a strong man" She stated before increasing the speed. "That's a good wittle baby, make cummies in your pampers for mommy!"

This proves to be too much and he finally climaxes in his pampers and though wouldn't admit it, he highly enjoyed the experience.

"Good wittle baby, this was a lot of fun and the only way you'll be getting off from now on, no pussy for my baby, just pampers"

"Yes mommy" he stated before suckling on her nipples once more.

(Aww, I think you really love your 'diapy pussy' don't you baby boy? )

He shouldn’t be here.

At twenty-one years old, Liam should be in bed with a girlfriend, not lying back on a changing mat with a soaked pull-up squished beneath him, thighs trembling. He should be embarrassed, no, humiliated, but instead, all he feels is warmth. Not just the kind spreading beneath him, but the kind only Mommy gives when she rubs slow, gentle circles across the swollen padding between his legs.

“Such a good boy,” Mommy coos, as if he’s earned this. Her fingers press down just enough to make the soggy pull-up squish in the most deliciously awful way. “Giving up all that silly potty training for Mommy. Big boys don’t get treats like this, do they?”

Liam whimpers, trying to speak, but the paci in his mouth muffles everything into breathy babbles. He doesn’t need to talk. He gave that up too. All he needs is this. Her touch. The weightless praise in her voice. And the soaking warmth cradling him like a reward. His last big-boy choice was giving up the toilet for good, and now it doesn’t even feel like a sacrifice, it feels like coming home.

He'd hesitated. Of course he had. She told him he couldn’t have it both ways—either keep struggling to be a man or let it all go. She was so patient with him. Every accident in his pull-up was another unspoken invitation. Every time she changed him without a word, cleaned him like a toddler, smiled like it was normal, he fell a little deeper. And when he finally asked, softly, with teary eyes and trembling lips, if she’d touch him “down there,” she only smiled and said: “Only if you promise to never, ever use the potty again.”

And now here he is. Trembling under her hand. Wet. Soft. Overwhelmed.

The pull-up can’t take much more. It’s sagging, yellowed, swollen beyond reason. The last thread of his manhood used to rest inside it, and now all that’s left is soaked fluff and a heart that beats only for Mommy’s praise. His hips twitch every time she presses harder. The sound it makes, crinkle, squish, is seared into his brain like a lullaby.

“You’re Mommy’s little squishy boy now,” she whispers in his ear, kissing his cheek, “no more potties, no more grown-up thoughts,no more pull-ups just soggy cummies in your Pampers. Forever.”

Liam moans helplessly around his paci, his body arching instinctively. The last flicker of resistance dies with a moan. He’s not a man anymore. Not even close. Just a stickylittle boy who gave it all away for one squishy, squelchy reward and Mommy’s love.

She woke up to the sound of sniffling. Vision blurry, she fumbled around the bed one-handed, searching for the source. She patted the blankets where he should have been. He wasn’t there. She sat up, worry pushing away the veil of sleep. She switched on the light and glanced around the room. She immediately saw it. The blankets were askew at the edge of their bed, dropping off to pool on the floor. In an instant, she was there. He was lying on the floor, blanket clutched tightly in one fist, covering his head with the other. She knelt down, a little note of panic slipping into her voice.

“What’s wrong, dear? What happened? Are you hurt?” He moved his hand, looking up at her with tear-brimmed eyes. “Why am I like this?” His voice broke on the last word, and he pulled the blanket back over his head. She sat on the bed beside him.

“Like what?” she coaxed.

“Like I like being treated like a baby and wearing diapers and crap. What the hell is wrong with me?”

She reached out to touch him. He didn’t move.

“Nothing is wrong with you. Why does there have to be something wrong with you?” She shook her head sadly. It wasn’t the first time this had happened, and it probably wouldn’t be the last.

He tore off the blankets. “Because,” he spat, “I get off on wearing diapers and being babied and I’m a grown man! What’s the difference between me and a fucking pedo? I shouldn’t be like this!”

She could feel the denial and self-loathing rolling off him like waves. It hurt her heart. “What should you be like?”

He floundered. “I don’t know… just something… something… normal.” The fire doused as quickly as it lit, and she saw his shoulders slump. “I just wish I was different.”

She cupped his chin and forced him to look her in the eye. “Do you want to do anything involving kids?” She saw his eyes spark and his face crumpled in disgust.

“Of course not!”

“Do you think I do those things with you because I like kids?” Her voice was sterner.

He stuttered and shook his head. “Absolutely not. I wouldn’t be with you if I even thought that.”

Her eyes held him. “So, clearly there is a difference between you and criminals.” She reached behind his head and gently pulled it into her lap. His breath tickled her thigh and she felt tears on her skin. “There’s nothing wrong with you. You don’t want to hurt anyone. You don’t involve others without their consent.” She began to stroke his hair.

“Everyone has their kinks. There’s nothing wrong with exploring it with a consenting adult. If your thing is being cared for and loved with a little humiliation and diapers thrown in… really who cares?”

“But… but its not normal,” he mumbled.

“No, it’s not, but why does that matter, really? I love you. I love being with you. I love taking care of you. I love seeing you waddle around. I love that little giggle of yours when I tickle you, and that pouty face you get when you don’t get your way. I love talking with you. God, I love sex with you. I love your cute onesies, and your pacis, and everything. I don’t care what other people think is “normal”. It isn’t any of their business anyway.” She sunk down to the floor and wrapped her arms around him. He felt so small then. She rubbed his back and felt his breathing slow. “I love everything about you, Baby. It’s ok. You’re a good boy.”

He looked up at her with tear filled eyes. “I love you too, Momma.”

She smiled tenderly and kissed his forehead. “I know, Baby.”

“So you’re going to stand there and tell me you don’t have a messy diaper? That’s how you want to play this, sweetie?”

“You can use all the big words you want, baby. All the words you learned as an adult. But it doesn’t change who you are now, does it? Nope. You’re not an adult. You’re my little.”

“Awww, I know you want to be an adult. But it’s too late for that, baby. Look at me, you’re not an adult anymore. You never will be again. Why fight it?”

“Who cares? You don’t need to be a man to make me happy! You’re making me happy right now. Do you know how cute you look in that obviously messy diaper you won’t admit to? It’s okay, you’re little now. This is how it’s supposed to be. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about, honey.”