Untitled

The front door clicked open and a soft thud followed—backpack dropped, shoes half-kicked into the corner like always. A familiar sigh came next, the kind only a tired little college boy could make after pretending to be big all day.

He didn’t waste a second.

Hands already at his waistband, he wriggled out of his jeans right there in the hallway, leaving them in a soft puddle on the floor. The house rule was simple: no big boy pants allowed at home. They were itchy, unnecessary, and totally not part of the routine Mommy had set.

His pull-up—decorated with tiny clouds and gentle pastel shapes—was clearly very, very wet. The prints had started to fade, the front sagging just enough to give away the truth.

That’s when Mommy rounded the corner.

“Well hello there, soggybottom,” came Mommy’s voice, light and teasing.

He froze.

She peeked around his shoulder, one brow raised, a playful smirk on her lips. “Had a busy day, huh?”

He turned pink immediately. “I—I didn’t even notice, Mommy…”

“No?” she cooed, crouching down to eye his pull-up. “Mmm, it looks like someone had a lot more on their mind than listening to their body.”

He squirmed a little, suddenly all too aware of the squishy feeling between his thighs.

Mommy gave the front of the pull-up a gentle pat. “Soaked all the way through. You must’ve really needed it, huh?”

“I guess…” he mumbled.

She clicked her tongue, mock-scolding. “You silly thing. This is why you’re not ready for big boy undies, hmm? Imagine if you didn’t have your pull-up on. You’d have made a puddle in that fancy college classroom.”

His eyes went wide. “Moooommyy…”

She laughed, warm and soft, then tousled his hair with one hand while guiding him gently toward the nursery with the other.

“Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get you into a nice fresh diaper before you start dripping on the rug. Then we can have a snack and maybe some snuggle time on the couch. Sound good?”

He nodded quickly, already feeling better now that her hand was in his.

He clings to me under the covers.

“That’s why I put you in a diaper for a nap. You were so insistent that you didn’t need it. It kiiind of smells like you did, though.”

He can feel wetness pressing up against his front and his behind. He snuggles his head against my chest.

“Are you embarrassed? Embarrassed that I can strip your confidence and agency away so easily?” I run my fingers through his hair. It’s so cute the way he’ll doze off in the sun while I read in bed. I could tell he might be messing just from the way he was twitching in his sleep. “Or are you just feeling embarrassed that you never grew out of this?”

He doesn’t say anything, pressing his face harder against me.

“You know, even most adult bedwetters still have a handle on the solid side of things. Did you realize you had to go poop before you fell asleep?”

He shakes his head into my chest. I bet he wishes he could shrink down and vanish. He’s told me that before. Just how embarrassing it is when this happens. Especially when I comment about it. So I can’t help myself.

I push my hand against the back of his diaper, letting his mess squish against him. I can feel him trembling and I know it’s turning him on despite his efforts to control himself and calm down.

“I’m so glad you can be safe with me.” I kiss his head, and he reacts, pulling his face away from me and scooting up so that our faces are level and I can kiss him on the mouth. After we lock lips a couple of times he gets needy, panting, mouth slightly open, trying to get more.

“No, no more than that, sweetheart. You need to earn it, okay? Just little kisses from Momma now.”

He closes his mouth reluctantly, still breathing hard through his nose.

“You’re so worked up, aren’t you? I guess it’s been a while since you got some relief, hasn’t it?” I remove his arms from around me and lay him on his back, straddling him.

“Do you think you can do it just from me humping you? I can tell you’re really needy but I don’t really want to do anything else with someone in a poopy diaper.”

He grimaces, hips rocking from side to side against the sheets.

“Careful, baby. Don’t get too wiggly and make a mess.”

He slips two fingers into his mouth and starts sucking, hard. His diaper bulge fits so perfectly between my legs and it feels to good. I put my hands on his shoulders and start to rock slowly against him, pressing my pelvis into him.

I like listen to his little grunts. They slowly turn into moans. “What feels better?” I ask. “Me rubbing on you or your mess squishing against your bottom?”

“You,” he says breathlessly, head arching back on the pillow.

“Aww.” I lean down to kiss him, letting him have just a little bit more before I raise my head again. I love watching him from above as he struggles and wiggles.

“I can’t finish,” he breathes. “I c-can’t…I can’t do it. There’s too much padding.”

I climb off him and he whines and shudders.

“That’s just too bad then. I have to change. You got me kind of sweaty while you were sleeping.” I shift my legs over the side of the bed and stand up, crossing the room to my dresser. I pull my shirt off and hunt through the drawers. “That’s what’s so funny. You get the bed all damp no matter what you’re wearing.”

He whines again. “Mommaaaa…I want to finish.”

“Uh-huh. I hear you, baby.” I open the bottom drawer of his blue and green dresser and get him a pair of training pants and shorts.

I cross back over to the bed and stand over him. “But what you need right now is a change. We can finish with all that later. I think it’s a lot more important that you don’t have a poopy butt than that you get to cum. Don’t you think so, honey?”

“Ughhhh. I guess so.”

“Maybe this will make you feel better. I know you say you only want it when you’re tired, but I know you like it, don’t you?” I slide his pacifier into his mouth and he starts sucking right away, one hand pressing it closer to his lips.

“There’s my perfect boy. Stand up so I can change you on the floor.” His legs are actually trembling as he stands, and I see goosebumps rising on his skin.

“Somebody’s going to need a sweater, too.” I shuffle the clothes in his drawer again and pull out a new striped tshirt and his wool sweater with the white ducks knitted into the pattern.

The change is pretty uneventful, which is fun for me, but not for him. I pretend not to notice his hips bucking and wiggling while I wipe him down. “All done. I need to go wash my hands.”

“I’m not done yet,” he calls out while I’m in the bathroom. “I’m not doooone. I need more help!”

“Help with what?” I say, reappearing in the doorway. “You’re all clean now.”

I kneel down and pull his training pants halfway down his legs, making him take them the rest of the way before I pull him to his feet. “Get your shorts on. Okay, now let me pull your sweater over your head.”

“I don’t like the training pants,” he complains as I nudge him out of the bedroom and to the kitchen. He rubs his eyes.

“Cotton training pants are better than a pull-up because you can feel it when you have an accident. I was just reading about it on a pottytraining forum.”

“I don’t wanna wear them,” he whines again. “I don’t wanna.”

“Well, you’re going to. And I’d better not catch you trying to take them off.”

He sits down at the kitchen table.

“You’re still cranky from your nap, huh? It’ll wear off soon. Let me get you a puzzle book or something to help get your brain going again.”

I leave to get his sudoku and when I come back he’s making a snack from the fridge.

“Ooh, good boy. Can you cut some carrots up for me, too?”

I sit across from him and watch him thinking hard as he starts filling out a puzzle. He rests his head on one hand and pulls gently at his hair, chewing on a carrot. His leg is bouncing under the table.

“Distracted by something?” I ask him.

“Noo…Momma no. You’re so mean.”

Welcome to my story blog! My main blog is @destinedfordiapers, but I'm using this blog for my longer stories. Its easier that way.

To make it easier for everyone to find them, I've curated the search function on my blog by individual story names. I'll also try to link each part or chapter to this, but I may forget. In any case, just click the magnifying glass and the following stories will come up:

My New Babysitter: Ever wonder what it's like to have a babysitter your own age? To desperately want to be treated as the adult you think you are, despite being babysat by a beautiful woman who's responsible for your diapers? To maybe, just maybe, find a woman that's interested in you, diapers and all?

Then read along with Jack and his life with his new babysitter.

Parts: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight

Sammy's Little Problem: In a world where humans have evolved into three distinct genetic categories: Caregivers, Neutrals, and Littles, everyone is Classified on their last day of high school. What happens to the those who've mapped out their whole life—dreaming of college, careers, and relationships—only to find out they're heading straight back to diapers?

Follow Samantha on her journey to becoming the Little she never wanted to be, but forced to become.

Chapters: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen, Seventeen, Eighteen, Nineteen, Twenty, Twenty-One, Twenty-Two, Twenty-Three, Twenty-Four, Twenty-Five, Twenty-Six, Twenty-Seven, Twenty-Eight.

All Part of the Plan: A collaboration with Boys R Babies about a man who suddenly finds himself having accidents and forced into diapers. His girlfriend seems to be enjoying his diapered descent more than he ever expected...

Chapters: One, Two, Three, Four

Your Saving Grace: You listen as your doctor confirms your diagnosis: shrinking virus. You're doomed to shrink down to the size of a toddler--or worse. Your wife promises she'll be the loving new Mommy you deserve. What's it like entering a second babyhood?

Chapters: One, Two, Three, Four

Taylor's New Role: Taylor's last year of college was supposed to be the best year of her life. At least, until she started having accidents. Her boyfriend is supportive but diapers will forever change the nature of their relationship. Follow Taylor as her boyfriend becomes Daddy.

Parts: One, Two, Three

The Little's Program Anthology: This is a collection of stories set in the world of the Little's Program, where people who struggle with adulthood or behavior are sent for...a fresh start in life. The Little's Program offers a multitude of options to tailor regression to the needs of the caregiver. These are the stories of those sent to the Little's Program.

There is something so feral about interacting with my cute bois family like I didn’t having him begging to cum an hour ago.

I smile and laugh along with the stories his mom shares.Yet, I had him whimpering and overstimulated the hour before.

I take the time to update them on how my week went, and some things i’m looking forward to in the near future. The only thing I’m thinking about is our conversation on the car ride over when my sweet baby boi tried to convince me that he doesn’t need a diapee when we make it back home.

She stood in front of the mirror, the soft glow of the bathroom light casting a warm halo around her. The white shirt hung loosely off one shoulder, revealing just enough to tease, and the black lace panties hugged her hips perfectly, a stark contrast against her pale skin. She tilted her head, her lips curving into a sly smile as she snapped the photo, the click of the camera echoing in the quiet room.

Her fingers danced across the screen as she typed out a message, her smirk growing wider with every word. “Thinking of you,” she wrote, attaching the photo before hitting send. She didn’t have to wait long for a response.

The phone buzzed almost immediately, and she glanced down at the screen, her laughter bubbling up as she read his reply. “Why do you do this to me?” he had written, followed by a string of embarrassed emojis. She could almost picture him on the other end of the line, his face flushed, his thick diaper crinkling as he shifted uncomfortably.

“Because it’s fun,” she murmured to herself, her voice dripping with playful malice. She leaned against the counter, her fingers tapping out another message. “Admit it. You love it. You love being my little diaper boy, don’t you?”

The response came slower this time, and she could almost feel his hesitation through the screen. “I… I don’t know,” he finally replied, his words timid and unsure.

She rolled her eyes, her smirk turning into a full-blown grin. “Oh, come on. You can’t tell me you don’t enjoy this. I mean, look at you. Sitting there in your soggy diaper, all embarrassed and flustered. You’re practically begging for more.”

The phone buzzed again, and this time, there was no text—just a photo. She opened it, her laughter filling the room as she saw him sitting on the edge of his bed, his face bright red, his thick, padded diaper clearly visible beneath his too-small t-shirt. He looked so pathetic, so utterly helpless, and she loved it.

“Good boy,” she typed, her fingers moving quickly. “Maybe I’ll send you another picture later. If you’re lucky.”

Mommy: Help is on the way!

Alizabeth had sent that text message nearly thirty minutes ago, thirty minutes that seemed eternal for Jamie, who anxiously waited in a locked public bathroom. Thirty minutes of waiting in his current soaked state. Thirty minutes of trying not to remember Alizabeth’s concern that morning about him not being ready for the responsibility of training pants while out on his own. Thirty minutes of the ever-increasing noise from what he could only hope was a small line of others waiting for his exit.

“Excuse me, may I squeeze by?” His stomach dropped when the voice he heard was not that of Alizabeth but of Becca. Who, since the surprised unveiling of his big baby status a few weeks back, had gone from his lifelong best friend to a glorified babysitter, a role she all too often seemed overly eager to fulfill.

“You in there, Jamie? It’s Auntie Becca; mind opening the door?” Becca, not known for her ability to use an inside voice, kept true to her raucous nature even now, alerting the small shop to who she and Jamie both were.

Jamie, wanting to avoid further embarrassment and the disclosure of her personal information, unlocked and opened the door while doing his best to hide behind it.

“Why are you here? Where is Alizabeth?”

“Who?” Becca had taken on a rather annoying habit of not understanding him whenever he failed to use the appropriate honorifics for Alizabeth and herself.

“Mommy, where is she?”

“Honey Bear, she is at work and wouldn’t be able to make it in a reasonable amount of time. You should count your lucky stars that I was home and was able to get here quickly.”

“Quickly, it took you thirty minutes to get here!” Jamie had been much louder than he had meant, but the urge to match Becca’s loud nature was something he had always almost naturally tried to match.

“No sir, you will not raise your voice at me. I had to stop by your Mommy’s house and grab your diaper bag. Of course, if this is going to become a regular thing, maybe I need to keep a fully stocked bag at my place too.” At her current volume, Jamie was sure anyone near the door now realized the large pastel bag she had carried in with her was not some clunky purse but a fully stocked mobile changing station.

“Can you please keep it down? The entire shop is going to know what is happening in here?” His best hope at keeping some dignity for when he did eventually leave this restroom was to get her to quiet down.

“Is that how you ask someone to do something?”

“No, please lower your voice, Auntie Becca?”

“Better! Now let’s get you cleaned up and out of here.” With that, she began pulling out the needed supplies, beginning with his changing mat.

“Wait, what are you doing?”

“Honey Bear, you’re too big for the changing station, and I’m not going to have you lie directly on the floor.”

“No, I mean, we don’t need any of that; just give me another pair of training pants.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, but your Mommy was pretty clear that you were to be in diapers for the remainder of the day.”

“Please!” Maybe if he at least asked nicely, she would allow it. Alizabeth would surely be more understanding if Becca went along with it.

“I don’t know; I would hate for you to get in trouble with your Mommy.”

“I could change into a diaper before she gets home. She wouldn’t know. Please, Auntie Becca." At this point he was willing to beg for her mercy, even if that mercy was just a slightly less embarrassing undergarment than a full-fledged diaper.

“Did I just hear that you want me to lie for you?

“It’s not a lie; we just wouldn’t tell her everything. At worst it is a small fib.

“Enough, on your back now, eyes on the ceiling!” Realizing he had overstepped in his suggested deception, he lay down, hoping that if he was well-behaved from here on out, Becca would at least not tell Alizabeth about it.

As he lay there, staring at the roof, he realized that a more terrifying aspect of Becca was now present, silence. Throughout their long friendship, Jamie had come to learn that when silence overtook her, it was best to do everything possible to get her mind off what had caused it.

“Umm, what were you up to today?” She remained silent as she slid his pants off and tore off the sides of his trainers.

“I could have just slid those off for you.” Maybe an attempt at assistance would break the silence.

“Mommy lets me put them on myself.” Nothing; Becca’s silence remained undeterred.

“Becca, I’m sorry, I…” Jamie had looked from the ceiling to Becca to make his apology, but he had not expected to be looking straight down her low-hanging collar, getting more than a peek at her floral-design bra.

“Really, first you ask me to lie, and now you’re perving on my chest!”

“No, I was trying to apologize; I didn’t know you were wearing such a revealing shirt.” Jamie, at least, could be relieved she had finally spoken, though her volume seemed to have reached new heights.

“First off, I told you to keep your eyes on the ceiling, and second, only a big baby prone to premature accidents would think this shirt is revealing.”

“I wouldn’t call them premature.”

“Says the big baby whose little thingy is really trying to show off for me now.” Jamie wanted to argue but knew a more prolonged look down her shirt would have proved her words true, so he turned his eyes back to the ceiling.

“Damn it!”

“What? I haven’t done anything else!”

“Do you want the bad news or the really bad news first?” Exasperated, Jamie could only imagine what he could have done now. He just wanted to be done with this interaction.

“Do you want the bad news or the really bad news first?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Well, the bag only has your nighttime diapers in it…”

“Great, I can waddle all the way home.”

“… and a onesie for a change of clothes.” A new wave of panic rushed over Jamie.

“What do you mean? I can’t go out there in just a onesie and literally the thickest diapers I have!”

“You may have to, I’m sorry, Honey Bear.”

“Maybe you can rush home or to a nearby store and grab something to wear; I can wait a bit longer here.” As if some unknown force had heard his willingness to wait and determined that he had held up the world long enough, a knock on the door and a polite voice asking if everything was okay ruined any such plan of further waiting.

“Doesn’t sound like that is going to work. Look, you only have to make it to the parking deck.” Becca had quickened her pace, giving little care to the sounds coming from her fluffing the diaper.

“The parking deck is like half a mile from here.”

“Lift up for me. I’m really sorry, but I don’t think there is anything else that can be done.” Becca had the diaper fastened on quicker than he thought possible and was pulling Jamie to a sitting position.

“Maybe you could go grab your car and come back. I’ll stay here.” Becca was already pulling the onesie over his head.

“I really don’t think anyone in the store is going to be okay with you taking even more time up in their bathroom. Can you stand for me so I can get to the snaps?” As Becca began work on the snaps, he glanced at himself in the mirror, taking in the full glory of the beige-colored onesie and the giant teddy bear on the chest area and the clearly oversized diaper peeking out through the leg holes.

He wondered if there was any silver lining to be pulled from this experience. There only seemed to be one, and with that he looked down at Becca on her knees, fidgeting with the snaps, and peered back down at her gaping shirt collar.

“Almost done, just let me see what I can do about it being so obvious.” As Becca did her best to help, Jamie knew that it was all for show; he knew there was no making his situation less obvious. This entire situation was ridiculous. Any other man with a woman on her knees in front of him would be getting serviced in a completely different way; there would be no need to sneak peeks, and no need to imagine her adjusting his diaper and onesie was something for more adult and pleasurable. He barely registered that his thumb had made its way to his mouth; he was so close, the entire situation fading from him, only a growing warmth, a warmth that was surely a prelude to an exploding pleasure, was felt in that moment; he only needed to keep imagining Becca’s prodding as something more seductive.

“Phew, glad we got you in that diaper.” Becca’s declaration pulled him from his daydream.

“Huh?” As the fog cleared from his brain, he realized that the growing warmth had been nothing more than him using his diaper for its intended purpose, and even now that he was aware, he was failing to stop himself from adding to it.

“Idwidntmeanto.”

“Aw, don’t worry about that, but maybe you would prefer your paci?” Jamie, realizing that his thumb was still securely in his mouth, pulled it out and tried to regain his composure, but before he could better explain himself, Becca had shoved a pacifier in his mouth.

I have no idea how it got this far. Mary was…persuasive. It all started normal enough. A few dates, great chemistry, better connection. She was the first girl I was truly not afraid to bring up my incontinence with.

And I was right. It didn’t even phase her, not even for a second. Looking back, I probably should have noticed her smile. But when you’re so used to negative reactions, anything positive was enough for me.

We were both young professionals. Loving life and having a blast. But sometime between then and now, I went from professional to toddler.

She seemed to know the state of my diaper better than me. It was almost psychic. Whenever she waltzed up to me, smiling sweetly, humming some beautiful tune, and checked my diaper, it was always ready for a change.

I probably should have noticed that she was not only comfortable around diapers, but arguably better than me at putting my own diaper on. But I only noticed how happy she was to do it, how comfortable she made me, and how safe she made me feel.

I didn’t mind when she replaced my regular all white Megamaxes for the colorful, printed diapers. They were comfortable and made her squeal in delight whenever she saw me in them.

I didn’t mind the sweet ways she spoke to me. I didn’t mind when she got me cute pajamas, then colorful onesies, because they were super comfortable. I thought the earlier and earlier bedtime was a positive, since I was doing better at work.

When I was with her I wasn’t “incontinent” because, as she said, “babies aren’t incontinent, honey, they just go in their diaper. It’s as natural as the sun rising.” I wasn’t ashamed of my diapers anymore. A full diaper meant more time with her.