Daddys Little....mixed bag.

I shake my head forcefully, as I dance from foot-to-foot, the growing ache in my bladder only a blip in the back of my head compared to the excitement of getting to play catch with you.

"Gah, no!" I whine, holding my mitt back up in the air, "Just throw the ball already!"

I can barely stand still as the baseball flies towards me, slapping my glove with a thud, before I drop it to the ground.

As I look down at the ball, a warm, wet sensation begins at my crotch before working it's way down my exposed legs, all the way to my socks.

Tears begin to feel my eyes as I look up to you.

You shake your head in disappointment, peeling your own glove off as you walk towards me.

"Oh, buddy," you say, gently placing a hand on my shoulder, "I should have known you were a little too big for baseball."

Tears start to roll down my face, threatening to make my cheeks as damp as the inside of my thighs.

I let you take me by the hand back to the house.

"Come on, sweetheart," you say gently, "Let's get you cleaned up, in a pull-up, and find you an activity that's more your speed."

The smell of bacon fills the air.

A pile of freshly made blueberry pancakes sit just off to the side, ready to be devoured when you finally get out of bed.

I smile to myself as I hear the patter of your feet behind me. The awkward rhythm of your steps tells almost as much of a story as the tell-tale crinkling that accompanied it.

I don't turn to face you, just leaning back into your touch as you wrap your arms around my waist and bury your face into my back.

"Morning, little one," I coo, turning to see your eyes peeking up at me from under your messy bed head, "Did my baby sleep well?"

You grumble something wordlessly behind your paci, rub your sleepy eyes, and whimper a little, before looking down at the diaper sagging heavily below the hem of the oversized shirt you wore to bed.

I shake my head and chuckle, giving you a peck on the shield of your binkie before speaking.

"Oh, does someone want a change?"

I say through a smile.

You respond with a hopeful look and nod of your head.

I laugh again.

"Oh, sweetie, no changies before breakfast. You know that! Why waist a didi when we both know that your pants will be more full than your tummy by the end of your meal?"

You let out a dissatisfied grunt.

I smack the soggy padding covering your ass.

Who knew an adult could look so adorable dressed like an overgrown toddler?

"Now, go find your seat, sog monster! Breakfast's almost done, and I made your favorite! Pancakes!"

Your eyes light up at that, and you toddle off quickly to the table.

I turn back to the eggs, grinning as I slide them onto our two plates.

The living room was bathed in the golden glow of late afternoon, the kind of light that made everything feel soft and warm. The couch cushions still held the faint imprint of where you’d been sitting earlier, fidgeting with the hem of your onesie, your thick diaper crinkling with every shift of your legs. You’d been restless all day, bored, maybe, or just needing something you couldn’t quite name. Mommy had watched you with that knowing look of hers, the one that said she could see right through you, even when you thought you were being subtle.

Now, she patted her lap. "Come here, baby," she said, her voice warm but firm. You hesitated for only a second before scrambling over, your short legs carrying you as fast as they could. The moment you settled onto her lap, facing her, you could feel the dampness in your diaper press against her thighs. You’d wet a little earlier, too distracted by your toys to bother telling her, and now the padding was swollen and cool against your skin.

Mommy’s hands found your hips, her fingers curling just slightly into the fabric of your onesie. "Someone’s a little wiggly today," she murmured, her breath tickling the top of your head. Before you could respond, she started bouncing you, gentle at first, just enough to make you sway in her lap. The motion sent a jolt through you, your diaper rubbing against her legs with every little lift and drop. You bit your lip, trying to ignore the way your body was reacting, but it was impossible. The pressure, the friction, it was too good.

You shifted, just a little, testing the sensation. The crinkle of your diaper was loud in the quiet room, and you could feel yourself getting harder, the padding pressing against you in all the right ways. Mommy’s smirk told you she’d noticed. "Ohhh, is my little boy enjoying this?" Her voice was light, teasing, but there was an edge to it, something that made your stomach flip.

Her hands tightened on your hips, guiding you, and suddenly you weren’t just being bounced, you were moving. Your body took over, your hips rolling forward, grinding against her lap. The diaper between you and her legs was a barrier, but it only made the friction better, the plastic backing slick against her skin. You could feel your face heating up, your breath coming faster, but you couldn’t stop. Mommy didn’t let you.

"That’s it," she cooed, her voice dropping into that low, soothing tone that always made you feel small and safe and wanted. "Mommy’s got you. Just let go." Her hands kept you moving, her thighs pressing up against you just enough to give you something to push against. The room faded away, there was only the sound of your diaper crinkling, the warmth of her body beneath you, the growing pleasure in your nappy.

Your hips started to jerk on their own, your movements losing their rhythm as the pleasure built. You pressed your face into her shoulder, your fingers clutching at her shirt, needing something to hold onto. Mommy’s laugh was soft, almost a purr. "Such a good boy," she murmured, one hand sliding up your back to hold you closer. "You can do it, baby. Mommy wants you to."

And then, you were there. The tension snapped, and with a muffled groan, your body tensed, your back arching as you pumped your load into your diaper. The warmth spread through the padding, the wetness seeping into the layers as your hips twitched, once, twice, a few more times, riding out the last waves of pleasure. A whimper escaped you, high and needy, and you collapsed against her, your chest heaving.

For a long moment, there was only the sound of your ragged breathing and the distant crinkle of your diaper, now sticky between your legs. Mommy’s hand stroked your hair, her touch gentle. "There you go," she said, her voice full of affection. "Good boy." She shifted you slightly, and you could feel the mess you’d made, the way the diaper sagged with the weight of it.

She chuckled, the sound vibrating through her chest and into you. "Now let’s get you cleaned up." Her fingers tapped your thigh, light and playful. "Unless you want to sit in that for a while?"

But, sweetie, I think it's about time you give that up.

I mean, look at yourself, squatting there in your cute little onesie, diaper drooping nearly to your knees!

Have you ever seen anything so precious in your life?

If you weren't meant to be just like this, my adorable diapered pet, why would the universe make you this irresistible?

Now, stop your whimpering, the smell isn't that bad.

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.

Sometimes when Daddy plans a night out with a friend, Kiddo’s schedule can be changed accordingly.

Bathed, double-diapered and fed by 6:30 on a Friday night can be most men’s nightmares, but it is quite typical for my little one.

A paci for peace of mind, and a baba to make sure his double Pamps are full when I’m back late into the night, and off we go! Me to a pub and him to bed. I am nice enough to allow cartoon time until 9pm because it’s the weekend…

You can find other chapters by searched #TheLifeABDL on our blog.

————————————

The man’s face brightens up as he hears Jake yell his name. His boy was there, finally.

Jake reaches the car. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have left, I want this. I want to be with you and uh… Papa. I… It was just a lot to process and I didn’t know how to react but I’ve made my decision.”

The man cannot hide his smile. This went much faster than expected and he could not be happier. He hugs Jake and asks “Should we go meet Papa then?”.

Jake nods, feeling butterflies in his stomach and his now-Daddy continues, “Okay babyboy, get in your car and follow me. Enjoy the big boy privilege of driving because that’s probably the last time for you.”

Jake blushes at this comment but does not think about it too much.

His new life is about to begin.

He follows the man for about twenty minutes. The drive seems never-ending. He is both happy and excited but also fearful and anxious.

They arrive and park in front of a medium sized-house surrounded by bushes and trees. The house is located in a residential area but slightly secluded and it is impossible to see the garden nor inside the house through the windows from outside.

As he parks, Jake peeks at a sign in front of the house - “Welcome to Mark and Peter’s!”. He could finally put a name on the man’s face. But who is Mark and who is Peter, he wondered.

The man gets out of his car and sees Jake looking at the sign.

“You little detective, I cannot hide anything from you already ! Now, let’s play a game. If you guess what my name is, you get to wear a Pamp‘. If you guess wrong, you get double-padded!”

Jake giggles, “ummm… you are Mark !”.

“Bad luck! I guess someone is getting a double-padding for his first diapee change. I’m Daddy Peter! But you can just call me Daddy or Dadda, understood ?”.

Jake nods and blushes. “Yes Daddy”.

“Good boy. Now, I think Papa is taking a nap. He certainly is not expecting you to be there already but let’s go and wake him up.”

Peter opens the door to his boy for the first time and Jake discovers his new place. The house is very modern and looks comfortable. The living room itself is bigger than Jake’s entire apartment, but nothing babyish in sight.

“I know baby, I know. I have to be honest, Papa and I thought it would take some time for you to come, so everything is still stored. Don’t worry, we’ll have all your little things set up in no-time!

Papa is upstairs but before we go up… do you think this is a proper outfit to meet him? You must know that if I am strict, Papa is even more. We don’t want him getting mad on your first encounter just because you’re not wearing the proper outfit, do we ?.”

With this, Daddy motions his hands to Jake’s belt. “Are you ready?”.

Jake nods, fully trusting the man who was a stranger a couple of years ago.

Peter then proceeds to unbuckle Jake’s pants and pulls them down. Seeing Jake’s naughty parts rock hard in his boxers.

“My, my, my… someone is a happy little guy. I want your first Pamp’ to be a moment shared with Papa as well, so we will just put you in your footies for now, okay?”

Jake’s face is redder than ever before.

“Yes daddy, that’s okay.”

“Can I pull your boxers down as well buddy? Are you ready?”

“Y…yes daddy”.

Peter slowly pulls down Jake’s boxers and sees him naked for the first time. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about baby, why are you so blushy ? Did you expect us to change you without seeing your little Willy ?”.

He then helps Jake get into his footed pajamas. These pajamas are striped with yellow and white, with a Bunny in the middle.

He then proceeds to zip-up the pajamas.

Jake is not wearing anything underneath and a bulge is definitely showing. He is trying is hardest to control his emotions but there is nothing he can do to prevent this.

Peter grabs Jake’s pacifier from his backpack and puts it in his mouth.

“Look at you, the cutest of all! All ready for Papa!”, he says enthusiastically.

He grabs his phone and snaps a first of many many pictures.

Jake grabs Daddy’s hand and follows him upstairs. They slowly enter the master bedroom where a totally unknown man is sleeping. Jake knows nothing about him but his name… Mark.

Peter announces “Mark, honey. Wake up! Look who’s here!”

Mark wakes up in haste and looks at Peter and Jake. It takes him a moment to process what is happening in front of him.

A loud gasp comes out of his mouth. “Oh, My, God. Is this…?” Peter nods without even needing the end of the sentence.

“Hiii JayJay. How are you buddy?”, he says slowly approaching Jake who’s still suckling on his pacifier.

Mark gives him a hug. “You are absolutely adorable!”

Jake can feel Mark’s gaze examining him until he stops for a second. “Hmmm what’s this about ?” Papa Mark says pointing at Jake’s hard-on under his pajamas.

“As cute as you are, I don’t think this is much appropriate for a little guy like you.”

“What do you think honey?” He says looking at Peter playfully.

“I sure do agree, I thought his first change should be done all together!” Peter replies.

“You’re too sweet”, Mark says before giving a kiss to his husband.

“Have you showed him his room yet?”

“Of course not!”

“Alright, should we go ahead ? Would you like to see your room kiddo ?” Mark asks, talking to Jake like he would to a 2-year old.

Jake nods and mumbles through his paci “Y…yes Papa”.

Mark’s heart melts at this comment. This is the first time anyone calls him this. A moment he has been dreaming about.

He quickly picks-up Jake in his arms, heading to the nursery. Both Peter and Mark are taller than Jake and can carry him, not for long distances, but around the house is no issue.

Mark carries Jake to the room facing the master bedroom, Peter follows behind.

The room has an unfinished wooden decoration saying “ Little ____’s nursery.”

Mark points at it. “Now, what should it say Buddy?”

Jake blushes and can’t help but giggle.

“Jaaake”, he says covering his face.

“Absolutely! We’ll have this finalized soon. So…are you ready to see Little Jake’s nursery ?”, Mark asks opening the door and looking right into his little guy’s eyes.

Jake’s eyes sparkle.

————————————

As the door opens, Mark and Peter do not say a word and let their new little boy take in the view.

Jake cannot believe his eyes. Is this a dream ? He saw a lot of nurseries while scrolling through ABDL blogs over the last few weeks, but this one?

This one is next level.

The walls are painted with a light blue and white paint. Teddy bears prints cover the walls.

On the right stands what looks like a big changing table with shelves stacked up with paddings of all brands, lotion, powder and wipes. On top of the changing table is a thick padded plastic mat. It looks comfortable and appealing to Jake. It has clouds all over and matches the room perfectly. Strangely enough, when Jake sees those clouds, he does not think about regular clouds but pictures large baby powder clouds. This is all that comes to mind in this environment.

Next to the table is a large bed. Not any kind of bed, it’s a crib. It has rails reaching maybe 7ft high. Not impossible to climb but definitely a challenge !

Inside the crib, a mattress with a Paw Patrol bedsheet. Of course, the mattress is protected with a Waterproof fitted sheet which Jake cannot see. It should not be any of his business anyway.

There is no thick bed duvet in the crib, but instead a fluffy Dinosaur blanket. There is no need for a full duvet since Jake will always be sleeping in a onesie and footed pajamas.

Above the mattress is a mobile with different kinds of jungle animals.

One thing catches Jake’s attention. A white box is attached to this mobile.

Mark looks at Jake’s confused face.

“What is it cutie? Do you not like the mobile in your crib?”

“I think he’s wondering about the camera”, Peter laughs.

Jake’s eyes open wide. A camera ? Over his bed ? Why would there be a need of a camera recording above his head at all times ??!

“It’s a baby monitor sweetie. We just need to keep an eye on you to make sure you are safe and also not being a naughty boy, that’s all. It is just for Papa and Daddy”, Peter reassures.

“Now let’s go see your closet!”

Jake barely has time to recover from the unexpected camera above his bed that Daddy and Papa open the two doors of his closet.

Once again, he is left speechless.

An incalculable amount of Pamps are tidily stacked up on top of each other. Jake has never seen so many in one place. It looks like at least 400 of them in there.

Next to the closet is another piece of furniture with a dozen of footed pajamas and all kinds of onesies, padded briefs, bibs, socks, t-shirts, shorts.

Jake is in pure bliss.

This is so jaw-dropping that his pacifier falls out of his mouth and onto the floor. Peter picks it up and puts it in his mouth to clean it and then places it back on Jake’s lips.

Jake is surprised and does not accept it at first.

“Buddy… will you be a good boy for your first day in the house, or do you want a spanking already?” Daddy asks.

Jake knows that a life in this idyllic nursery comes to a price and he also needs to make efforts. He slowly opens his mouth and sucks on his paci, a bit upset that Daddy did not even dry it from his own saliva.

“Good boy, I’m proud of you”, says Peter.

“Holy cow! This little guy is heavy!” Mark interrupts, before gently sitting up Jake on his changing table. “Wow, I will need to hit the gym again for my little boy!” He says showing his biceps.

Carrying Jake was no issue but it had been a few minutes and surely made his arms tired.

“So, now that you have seen your very own room, how do you feel?”, Peter asks.

This was no real questions since all that could be seen was the raging hard-on under Jake’s pajamas since he entered the house. No words could describe better Jake’s feelings than what was happening under these footies.

Jake takes a few seconds before simply replying “Gwood!”, under his paci.

“Yes? Are you ready to hear about your rules ? We know this is not the funniest part but they are mandatory to make sure you are being a safe, happy and healthy little one, okay?”

Jake nods.

“Good boy. Then we will put you in your thick Pamps you have been patiently waiting for, I promise.”

Peter then leaves the room and comes back a few seconds later with a large printed poster that he sticks to the wall, right next to the changing table.

————————

The poster states :

Rules for our little one

1. Always listen to Papa or Daddy,

2. No bad words

3. Never remove your clothes or padding/protection yourself,

4. Daddy and Papa will change you whenever AND wherever they think necessary, you are not allowed to touch yourself at all,

5. Never, under any circumstances try to use the big boy potty. This is Daddy and Papa’s potty. Yours is around your waist.

6. You will be using your Pamps for number 1 and number 2 always,

7. Your bedtime will be 8pm every weekday and 8:30pm in the weekend,

8. You are not to climb out of your crib or get out of your playpen or highchair without permission,

9. Your peepee will always be locked-up in a chastity cage. You may only make naughty stickies when and how Papa or Daddy allow you to,

10. You will not feed yourself unless allowed by Papa or Daddy,

11. You will be fed a jar of babyfood dessert for every meal. You will be fed one full babyfood meal twice a week depending on Daddy and Papa’s decision. You will not know in advance. Any other food will be blended, except few rare occasions.

12. You will be fed a bottle of formula every morning and a bottle of regular milk every night before bed,

13. You will drink or eat what Papa and Daddy prepare for you without making a fuss,

14. You will wear a bib for ALL meals and anytime of the day Daddy or Papa deem it appropriate,

15. You will be eating in a highchair for ALL meals unless allowed otherwise by Papa or Daddy,

16. You will be wearing a padding and onesie at all times. When going outside with Papa and/or Daddy, you will be wearing a padding and onesie under “big boy clothes” picked by Daddy and/or Papa,

17. You must tell Papa and Daddy if you are feeling unhappy or unwell.

In return Papa and Daddy will provide all the love and care in the world, a comfy day-to-day life and make you the happiest Pamperpacker on earth.

This rule set is non-exhaustive and rules can be added over time.

————————

While Jake reads the entire document, Mark and Peter start getting the supplies ready for his very first change. Jake is captivated by the rules and lets Mark unzip his pajamas without paying much attention.

Once he is done reading, he sees Mark and Peter looking at him, waiting to see a reaction.

Peter holds a fresh Peekabu and asks “So, JayJay? What do you think? Are you ready to commit to this ?”

Even though Jake is a bit flustered by a few rules, especially the one about the chastity cage and the babyfood which were not elements he had ever considered. How could he refuse ? This is his chance to live “The Life!” he has been dreaming about.

Jake nods.

“Yes daddy and papa, I am ready”.

Daddy’s little babygirl has a set of rules set out for her everyday on a pretty little set of engraved wooden boards stationed in the living room. There’s a lot of rules, all about how baby needs to comport herself around Daddy and be rewarded for being a good little girl. If she breaks the rules however, there are punishments. Spankings, mouth soapings, time-outs, having certain privileges like TV or toys taken away. Or, if she really messed up, more important privileges would be removed…. Like her clothes…. Or her ability to talk without a pacifier strapped to her mouth. Sometimes the punishment was that Daddy would leave her in a wet or messy diaper without a change for a long time…. But that wasn’t so bad. The feeling of a squishy diaper between her legs was almost habitual at this point.

Babygirl tried to be very good. She tried so hard. She was always as diligent as she could be about following the rules, but there were so many! And most of them never came up! She tried to remember the important ones. The ones that she knew would be a problem if she broke them in front of Daddy, but even then she still made mistakes. As much as she tried to be a good girl her punishments were still so frequent. Daddy assured her that even good girls often find themselves in the corner with a red bottom and a saggy diaper. That’s how they learn.

She wasn’t sure. She didn’t want to admit it out loud. But she had a very strong suspicion that Daddy changed the rules on her sometimes when she wasn’t looking. Every time she thought she had the rules and routines memorized Daddy would catch her doing something naughty, and she would argue that she was sure she was following the rules, but then Daddy would simply smile and point at the list of rules, and sure enough, every time she would read it and find that she had been wrong, and the rules were written out exactly as Daddy had described them.

But, one of the most important rules that she was very careful not to break was how to properly ask Daddy for diaper changes.

She had spent a long time learning this rule. And she had gotten punished a few times before she had learned to get all of the little details just right.

It was her responsibility to ask Daddy for a diaper change once she had sufficiently used her diaper enough to justify it. Asking too soon when her diaper wasn’t full would earn a punishment, but also asking too late when she’s past the point of leaking would also get a swift reprisal from an angry Daddy.

Once she was sure that she was appropriately in need of a clean diaper, the next task was to round up all of the supplies Daddy would need to change her. She would pick out a clean diaper from underneath her changing table, as well as the wipes, the baby powder and the lotion, and hold all of these oversized baby products in her little outstretched arms. Then she would approach Daddy with all of these items in her eager hands and ask in the sweetest, littlest voice she could muster, (all the more difficult if she had a pacifier she was not allowed to take out at the time) “Please Daddy? I really need a diaper change. I wet and messed the clean diaper you put me in earlier and now I really need a change. Pretty please? I’ll be ever so grateful if I could get a clean diaper!”

It was very important that she sound as pleading and desperate as possible when she asked. It was also essential that she mention what she had done in her diaper to need a change. Sometimes Daddy also insisted that she say specifically how many times she had wet or messed herself to earn a change.

She had gotten very good at the routine and was almost never punished for messing it up anymore. Which she was very grateful and just a little proud of herself for. After all, she did need her diapers changed on a pretty regular basis.

Even so, even with her little ritual almost perfected, it was still entirely up to Daddy’s discretion whether or not she got changed. Asking for a diaper change the correct way, the way Daddy’s rules specified meant that she would get her diaper changed… But it wasn’t always right away. Daddy would praise her for being such a good girl and doing a good job with her request but if Daddy was in the middle of something, or just felt like making her wait a little longer, then she just had to wait. Squishing and squelching and stinking up the house for however long it took for Daddy to turn his attention towards her again. But she was always grateful for his strong, and gentle hands putting her back in a fresh diaper whenever she finally got changed. And when Daddy praised her for being such a good girl, and following all the required rules asking for a diaper change? It was just the sweetest feeling in the world!

Today was no different. It was getting late in the afternoon and babygirl knew that it was about time to ask Daddy for a diaper change again. She grunted and groaned and with her face contorted in effort she pushed the last of her stinky mess into the seat of the swelled and sagging diaper. That was how she knew it was time. Her diaper was already saturated from multiple wettings earlier in the day. She gave her hips a tiny shake and felt the swish of her sagging well used diaper behind her. “Yes,” she thought to herself. “Daddy will have to give me a change for this one.”

Content and pleased with herself she began her required chore of collecting all of the supplies Daddy would need to change her dirty diaper and went into Daddy’s office to present her request to him like always.

Daddy was seated at his desk, working on something too complicated and grown up for babygirl to understand. But, with no concern she extended the changing supplies to him with enthusiasm and recited: “Please change my diaper Daddy? I really need a diaper change. I’ve wet and messed the clean diaper you put me in earlier. And now I’m really stinky and really need a change. Pretty please? Don’t let me keep going around in a stinky diaper like this! I’d be so grateful for a change Daddy!”

She felt like she had done a good job with conveying how desperate the diaper situation was to Daddy, but when Daddy looked around at her she immediately knew something was wrong.

She gasped as Daddy grabbed her tiny wrists and pulled her out of the office. The diaper changing supplies she had diligently collected falling to the ground.

Daddy pulled her into the living room and put her over his knee. He then proceeded to swat the back of her dirty diaper with hard, firm spanks. At first she didn’t make a sound, surprised at what was happening, but then after a moment, the repeated swats on her backside led her to start whining, and then she was wailing and crying as they continued.

It wasn’t very painful. Daddy was spanking her over her well-used diaper and so the spanking was nowhere near as painful as if her bare bottom was exposed. But it felt disgusting, and humiliating, as she felt the squish and the squelch of her multiple potty accidents throughout the day. But also, she just felt ashamed.

What had she done wrong? She had been such a good girl. She always was so sure to follow Daddy’s rules closely when it came to asking for diaper changes. She said as much to Daddy between sobs.

“Buh… ouch! Wha did I do wrong? Ouch! I followed da rules! Ouch!”

Then Daddy stopped and put her back down. Wiping away her tears and looking her in the eyes. His expression was serious but not cruel.

“The rules baby? I don’t think you read the rules very closely then.”

Dumbfounded, the babygirl stared at the list of rules posted in the same place as the living room. Her previously remembered ritual was nowhere to be found on the long list. Burned into the wood just like all of the other rules it said very clearly: “Babygirl must never ask Daddy for a diaper change. Verbally or by otherwise indicating the state of her diaper. Babygirl gets her diaper changed at Daddy’s discretion, and must wait until Daddy checks her and decides it’s time.”

In those ten years we’ve bought a house, adopted a dog, and somehow ended up adopting the sweetest little bitty one imaginable. He’s shy, clingy, dramatic in all the funniest ways…and absolutely determined to hide whenever he has a poopy diaper.

Tonight we’re celebrating at a beautiful country club right on the water. Everything is soft golden light and expensive dinners, and my little boy is dressed in tiny slacks and a polo that make him look far too much like grown up he actually is.

The only thing giving away just how little he prefers to stay, is the unmistakable outline of his diaper beneath his slacks, getting puffier and more obvious as the evening goes on.

We brought the diaper bag, of course. We knew he’d need at least one change tonight, maybe two if he had a poo-poo. Wet diapers usually don’t bother him much. He’ll toddle around in them forever if nobody notices. But poopy diapers are different. Whenever he has an accident, he gets embarrassed and tries to sneak away to “fix” it himself.

Which brings me to the present moment.

I watch him hurry right past me without making eye contact, moving as fast as he can while still trying to look casual. Immediately I notice where he’s headed.

The bathroom.

Alone.

Except he can’t actually change his own diaper. He has no clue how.

So what exactly is his plan here?

I quietly follow after him, trying not to make a scene. The last thing I want is to embarrass him in the middle of our anniversary dinner. He already looks mortified enough.

He slips into the family bathroom, and just before the door closes, I stop it gently with my foot.

“Honey,” I ask softly as I step inside, diaper bag already in hand, “what are you doing?”

“I…” he stammers, eyes going wide as he tries to figure out how I caught him so fast.

Then the smell hits me full force.

“Ohhhh,” I tease gently. “Did somebody go potty?”

His cheeks turn bright pink immediately, and he looks away instead of answering.

“What was your plan in here, hm?” I ask, kneeling down in front of him. “You don’t know how to change your didi.”

Once again, he avoids eye contact completely and slowly lowers his hand to the front of his diaper.

Oh… OH!

“Sunshine? Do you need mommy to help you feel better?”

Normally we wait for daddy before we play, but there is no way I can go and get him discreetly. So I help my little one instead.

Poor thing hasn’t had release in days.

I pull him over to me, so his legs are on either side of my lap and pull him down on top of me. He blushes when he feels his mess squish against his bottom. And he turns the brightest shade of red when I reach behind and pat his bottom hard. Then gently urge him to move his hips.

“There you go baby. Use mommy to make yourself feel better.” I’m trying to give him more friction by pushing my pelvis up into him.

He whimpers and picks up speed.

I pull my breast out of my dress and undo the clasp on my nursing bra. Giving him full access to my breasts. He always cums harder when he is nursing (and so do I).

He is practically vibrating at this point. I can tell he is getting really close to finishing by the way he starts saying “mommy” over and over again.

He bites down, hard, on my nipple and cums all in his diaper. Right where his cum belongs.

“Do you feel better, love?”

He is leaned against me and just nods his head, like it’s taking all of his energy to recover from the pleasure.

I help him out of his messy diaper and get him all cleaned up, taking my time so he doesn’t feel rushed or overwhelmed. Before long he’s taped back into something soft, dry, and comfortable, his slacks pulled neatly back into place.

“There we go,” I murmur, pressing a kiss to his forehead once I’m done. I give his diapered butt a gentle pat. “All better.”

At first he’s so excited that he gets to have sex like a big boy!! but is signaling that he needs to cum with a rattle any less humiliating than having a sticky accident in his diaper?

You remember when we first started, don't you, little one? The rules were so simple back then. Bedtime at 8 PM sharp, and all your meals had to be finished from your plate. You followed them because you knew Daddy just wanted to take care of you, to make you feel safe.

Then the rules started to change you. Diapers became a 24/7 thing. You had to ask permission to play with your big-kid toys. We added new rules, like tummy-time every afternoon, just to help you feel more like the baby you are inside. Each rule took another piece of the stressful adult world away, and you loved it.

Slowly all your big boy activities were replaced for something more according to your new age. Now, look at you. Sitting there so focused, your binky bobbing as you color. You're so deep in your little world, you don't even notice Daddy watching you, proud of his little boy. You're not pretending anymore; this is just who you are now. Daddy's baby

You stop and look up at daddy. Your eyes get wide and you raise your arms, making that little gesture he knows so well. "Uppies?" you ask around your binky, your voice soft and hopeful.

A warm smile spreads across Daddy's face. "Come here with Daddy, let's go put your pretty coloring on the fridge, my little artist." Daddy said as he picked you up, patting your diaper.

You're still sound asleep in your crib. Unaware of her plans for you.

As she's preparing your morning meal she muses about how embarrassed you're going to be when you make big pushies in the park.

She knows everyone is going to see you squat down and make a huge lump in your pants, and then tearfully waddle over to her, wailing that you "Hadda aks' dent"