After being sickies for a while I’m baaa-ck, 🐑 and I haven’t changed! (my diaper) 😇
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@littlebitsofcrinkle
After being sickies for a while I’m baaa-ck, 🐑 and I haven’t changed! (my diaper) 😇

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✨Diaper changes by daddy are the best✨
Safe and Sound, an ABDL Story by CradleQuill (Reupload)
Disclaimer: All content is fictional, consensual, and intended only for mature audiences. All characters depicted are adults aged 18+ _
You woke up in a wet bed next to your partner. You were so ashamed. You hadn't wet the bed since you were a little kid. Your cheeks burned hot as you shook your partner awake, and he looked at you with sleepy, confused eyes.
"What is it, baby?" He asked.
You couldn't meet his gaze. Each time you glanced at him for more than a millisecond, your eyes darted away and looked toward the bed in shame. He placed his hand gently beneath your chin and drew your eyes to meet his. "Baby, whatever it is, you can tell me."
That was when he noticed the wetness. You'd soaked the sheets completely, his side of the bed included. He patted the bed, feeling the dampness left by your little accident. He offered a half-smile.
"It's okay, honey," he told you. "These things happen. There's no need to be embarrassed; it's really not a big deal." You leaned into his shoulder, and he pulled you into an embrace. He was so kind, so understanding. He was always such a prince.
You both undressed the sheets together, and he threw them in the wash while you tended to the stain. You knew he was right. It was just a one-off occurrence, and these things happened sometimes. You probably had too much to drink the night before. It wasn't like it was going to happen again.
And it didn't, at least not at first. But a week went by, and then another, before you woke up with wet sheets once again. He was just as understanding as the first time, but you were even more embarrassed. And you swore you could hear a hint of concern in his voice. He probably thought there was something wrong with you. He even asked if you were having nightmares, to which you responded no, you hadn't been.
Over the following month, the bedwetting became a more and more common occurrence. At first, it was just once or twice a week. But then, slowly, it progressed to three or four times. You were waking up wet more than half the week. One day, you came home from work and found a mattress protector on the bed. Your boyfriend was kind, he didn't mention it. And you didn't either because you knew it was for the best. You really did need it.
But the bedwetting didn't stop, and the mattress protector could only help so much. You could see it on your boyfriend's face; he was growing tired of waking up to a soggy bed and a sobbing girlfriend. If he even saw you that way anymore. Lately, he hadn't wanted to be sexual with you, and you couldn't blame him. Who would want to sleep with a bedwetter?
Each night, you grew more and more depressed, knowing you'd wake up with wet sheets once again. Until one night, your boyfriend stopped you as you were getting ready for bed. "Honey, we need to talk," he said. Those words struck fear in your heart and sent a sinking feeling through your chest.
You immediately began apologizing. "I'm sorry," you said. "Please, I know the bedwetting has been a huge problem. I'm sorry. I'll get it under control, I promise! Please just don't break up with me…"
He looked stunned at your sudden outburst. "Honey, nobody's breaking up with anyone, I promise." He guided you to the bed and sat you down next to him. "You're right that the bedwetting has been a problem, baby girl, but I won't leave you over it. I just need you to trust me. Can you do that for me, love?"
With tears fighting to escape your eyes, you simply nodded. He entered the closet and returned with a bright pink package of something you didn't initially recognize. Until he tore open the back and pulled out what was unmistakably a pull-up, like the ones for potty training. You couldn't keep the tears from flowing.
"I know, baby," he said. "I know it's embarrassing, but I think you need them. They'll help keep you dry. And look, these ones aren't for little kids; they're for bedwetters just like you. I promise this doesn't change how I feel about you. You just need some protection at night."
It took several minutes for the tears to subside, but you knew he was right. You needed this, and you did trust him, now more than ever. You stood up and slid down your pants and panties while he held the pull-up open at the sides. You stepped into the childish undergarment, and your boyfriend pulled it up nice and snug around your hips. At first, you felt a hot pang of shame hit your cheeks, but that sensation soon faded into something else. You felt… safe.
That evening, your boyfriend tucked you into bed and held you all throughout the night. You were the little spoon, and you felt his crotch rub up against your padded bottom. Each time it did, you felt that same pang of embarrassment wash over you as chills ran down your spine, but he didn't seem to notice. Eventually, you fell asleep.
When you woke, you immediately felt the back of your pajamas and all around your sides, but there was no wetness to be found. The pull-ups, or "Goodnites" as they were called, worked perfectly. You slipped your hand down the front of your pajamas and felt the soaked padding beneath your private parts. When you felt the padding, a jolt of electricity hit you, and your legs quivered. You were… turned on by this. There was no way you could ever admit it, but you knew it was true, no matter how much you didn't want it to be.
Quietly and slowly, so as not to wake your boyfriend, you began rubbing the padding between your legs. Little sparks of pure bliss tickled along your spine, and your mouth fell agape as you breathlessly wanted to moan. You didn't want to wake your boyfriend, but you couldn't stop. You just kept rubbing, and soon enough, you began arching your back and tensing your legs.
As you finished in your soaking wet pull-up, you looked over at him, still sleeping, unaware of how naughty and pathetic his girlfriend was behaving right next to him, all while sharing his bed, no less. He stumbled awake a few minutes later while you sat there in your shame. He found you there, still in bed, still in a puddle that was at least contained to your diaper this time.
"How did it go, sweetheart?" He asked. You looked at him with sad eyes but didn't answer. He felt around your butt and found no wetness, so without even asking, he checked the front of your pull-up with his large, stern hands. The moment he gripped the front of your diaper and gave it a good squeeze, you let out a little gasp as you heard the padding squish in his grip.
"It looks like these held up well," he said while rubbing the front of your padding. He had no idea what he was doing to you, but he was turning your brain into absolute mush. You wanted to say something, anything to make him stop. But then, when he finally did, you found yourself desperate for more. You'd already made yourself cum in your soaked pull-ups, but something ached within you to have him rub you until you arrived once again.
That was the beginning of your new, babyish routine. The few dry nights a week you had dwindled into nothing until you were soaking yourself every day. Each night, he'd help you into your pull-ups. And each morning, you'd wake before him, giving you just enough time to rub yourself in your squishy diapers. The danger of having him catch you and seeing how pathetic you truly were only turned you on more. You were losing yourself in your padding, and the worst part was you didn't want it to stop. It was consuming you, and all you wanted was to sink deeper.
The longer this went on, the more you'd wet, until your pull-ups couldn't hold all your pee anymore. Waking up in a soaked diaper and a wet bed made you feel even more like a helpless baby. And your boyfriend didn't stand for it long. Over the weeks, he'd started talking down to you like a child. So when he showed you your new thick, tape-on diapers with a silly design all over them, you couldn't even act surprised.
The thicker padding kept your sheets dry, even with your larger accidents. But they posed their own problems. Your boyfriend wasn't just helping you step into them anymore. Now, he was laying you on the bed, pulling the padding up between your legs, and taping you into your glorified baby diapers. And every time he changed you into one, you couldn't help but get wet in a different way. You knew he noticed it, but he never said anything, which confused you even more.
And with how thick these diapers were, you couldn't make yourself cum in them just by rubbing the front anymore. You would have had to slip your hand down the front. But your boyfriend taped them up so tight, and they were so crinkly, you were too afraid to try it. So each morning, you'd just sit in bed humping against your hands and not even finishing before he began stirring awake.
One day, while he was changing you into your diaper, your boyfriend stopped with your diaper still untapped. He looked at you, gazing lovingly into your eyes, and you could tell he wanted to say something. "What is it?" You asked.
"Honey," he said, taking a second to pause, as if to carefully consider his words. "I've noticed that your diapers… turn you on." There was no hint of judgment in his eyes, but the shame washed over you all the same. You hid your face in your hands and started crying as he hushed you and cooed at you.
"Baby, baby, it's okay. I don't mind it. I think it's kind of cute, honestly."
"Y-you do?" You managed to squeak out between sobs and sniffles.
He nodded. "Don't get me wrong, I didn't know what to make of it at first. I caught you rubbing them a few times, but I pretended to sleep through it. But lately, I've seen the way you hump your diapers in the mornings, and it's been turning me on, too, seeing you look so desperate like that. I never thought this would be something I was into… or that you'd be into. But here we are."
You couldn't speak. You kept asking yourself if you were in a dream as the world around you began to bob as if stuck in the current of a river. It was like you were a part of the world but distinctly separate from it at the same time. He smiled at you, seeing how desperate you were for him, how every inch of you begged him to come closer.
He left your diaper untapped and crawled into the bed and on top of you. He took the opportunity to slip inside you, and as he did, a burst of pee escaped your bladder and squirted all over him. He didn't turn away. He began thrusting repeatedly into you, and your eyes rolled almost into the back of your head. It was the best sex you'd ever had, and when he was done, he finished inside you and taped you up into your diaper. You could feel the mess he left there leaking out into the padding, along with a few more dribbles of pee.
He laid down next to you and pulled you into his arms. Every sensation in your body was euphoric. And as you stared into his eyes, they looked more soft and tender than they ever had before. "There there, baby girl. You did such a good job for Daddy, little one." The moment the words left his lips, that familiar static shock ran throughout your body, and you slipped further into a place that had been long lost to you, a headspace of complete comfort and quieted thoughts. You knew you wanted to be his little girl forever if you could, and as Daddy held you that night, you knew that the dynamic of your relationship had changed forever, but also for the better. _
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there’s just something about a girl in her 20’s still in pull-ups

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Good Girl!
The way Connie, er, Mama looks at me is positively mortifying. It's as if the flecks of green in her irises are all subtly judging me as I look up at her in shame.
"Baby, do you wanna tell Mommy something?" She asks, in that same, damn mocking tone she always uses. She already knows the answer to the question she's asking. Mommy never asks a question she doesn't know the answer to already. When she asks if I'm wet, it's not because she's genuinely curious, it's because my Huggies have been sagging down between my legs, and I've been too busy playing to notice.
She wants to give you the opportunity to admit it. To claim babyhood yourself without having it pushed on you.
And now, she's asking me to basically confess to masturbating in my diaper- "making cummies" as she calls it, usually in that sing-song voice she always uses, and which she usually tells me is a big "no-no" without permission. This time, I didn't get permission at all. I grinded my diapered pussy back and forth on "Mr. Teddy," a large brown teddy bear that has been a consistent bedfellow ever since I signed up for... whatever this new life is. The only times Mommy and I make consistent physical contact are kisses, hugs, spankies, changies, rubbies, bathtime, and feeding. It's actually quite often, just never sexual.
Now she's standing over me, arms folded, holding a fresh diaper in one hand and a hairbrush in the other. I haven't had my bath yet, and the left eyebrow is going up, so she's probably not planning on brushing my hair with it.
"Did you make humpies and cummies without Mommy's permission?" Mommy asks, a grin playing about her face as her hands migrate to her massive, sexy hips.
"Yes... I-I'm sorry, Mommy." I spit the words out, tears beginning to form. This is so fucking humiliating. Here I am, a 34-year-old grown-ass woman, standing in naught but a very wet and heavy diaper, calling my roommate (and now, caregiver) "Mommy" and apologizing... to her... for sexually relieving myself. How pathetic is that?
"Well, Tessa, you're a very smart little girl." The 29-year-old nurse smiles, leaning over to get down to my level. "Can you tell me what happens when babies make cummies without Mommy's permission?"
"Th-they... they..." I begin, knowing the answer but wanting to delay the inevitable, as my puss- er, princess parts once again begin tingling at the thought of my sexy caretaker bringing down one of her world-famous spankings on my pale, waiting ass cheek.
Mommy knows my tricks. "They get what, Tessa? Come on, you know this."
"Sp-spankies." I spit the words out, tripping a bit over my words, which seem to have been jumbled a bit by how hard my heart is beating in my chest. This isn't fucking normal. This isn't how a grown woman with a law degree should be living her life. Yet, I chose this, as Mommy constantly reminds me whenever I don't take my punishments well. This was my decision.
"Do you believe you should get spankies?" Mommy asks. Despite the opinionated nature of the question, don't be fooled, there is a RIGHT answer to this question, and not giving it results in more spankings and even corner time if I've acted up enough.
"Yes, Mommy." I answer.
"And why is that, Tess-Tess?" The nickname. God, my sex is burning now, and she knows it. Mommy's a big fan of tension, and she's building it masterfully, like a skilled architect.
"Cause I'mma... I'm a... a big... a big, dumb, helpless little baby..." I give her what she wants, shivering all the while as I wait for my pleasurable punishment at the hands of the Disney Princess hairbrush. I could cum right now, but I don't. The spankings are pleasurable as fuck, but they make sitting down really uncomfortable, even with the padding that my thick, fluffy Huggies give.
"Good girl. Assume the position." Mommy sits down on our sofa and pulls my tummy onto her strong, muscular legs, pulling my big, heavy diaper down to my ankles before delivering a firm, hard swat onto my butt, causing it to jiggle just a bit. WHAP!
I begin to tear up a bit- it hurts so good.
"That's the first one." Mommy comments, winding up for another. WHAP!
"Ughhhhh..." I moan, more tears coming as I queue up my best, most babyish voice to appeal to my Mommy. "I'm sowwy, Mommy... I... I did-dent mean to..."
"You should be. Eight more." Mommy replies, not even giving my attempts at getting off without too much of a sore butt the time of day. WHAP! WHAP! WHAP!
Mommy spanks me more, and I let out a gentle, pained yelp with each. This is so fucked up. I know it, she knows it. But it works. And she's training me.
WHAP! WHAP! WHAP!
Because I deserve it. I made cummies without her permission. Or her help. Just like a bad girl. And I'm not a bad girl.
WHAP!
Mommy always tells me the spankings are to help me. To train me. To make me what I want and need to be to make Mommy happy...
WHAP!
...a good girl.
I'm a whimpering, shivering mess now, tears running down my face and an ass as red as a rose. Mommy pulls my diaper up and brings me up into a sitting position on her lap.
"Next time, come find me when you're ready to make cum-cums, little girl." Mommy softly whispers, as I slump into her. "You're a good girl. Mommy hates doing that to you, but you gotta follow Mommy's rules, Tess-Tess." She presses a kiss from her plump, soft lips into my forehead. It feels amazing.
"Yes, Mommy..." I reply, feeling tired, but relieved. Mommy loves me. She takes care of me, even when I'm too dumb and babyish to do so for myself.
"Now, honey- let's get you into a fresh diaper and put you down for a nap with a baba." Mommy carries me over to a changing table, as consciousness begins to leave me.
I love my Mommy, and I wanna be a good girl for her always.
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Last diaper check before my birthday tomorrow 🤭
Do you think dis will be the year I finally pass potty training? 🤔
JFF // birthday wishes 🥺 // love you 💓
yah these don’t hide much…
Rocking our Barney luvs like it’s Y2K all over again 💜🦖
Thats what I was taught to do when my diape is wet~
Am I doing it correctly?
If not you may want to show me?
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Uni is very exhausting this week… 🏫 Can’t wait to rest with daddy 🥰
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diaper check please !!!
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