27 female. Dom mommy. This blog contains my ramblings and things I enjoy. None of the pictures are of me. If you see yourself, and want it taken down— please ask! I’m more than happy to accommodate.
27 (female) Happily married. With my husband I’m a submissive. You can find me running from spankings and bending over when told. To diapered littles on tumblr, I prefer to play as mommy.
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I have another blog that’s little themed… if you find it, and tell me what it is, I’ll give you a gold star 🩷
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Why am I here? Why is anyone here, tbh? I felt lost and trapped by my other blog and wanted the ability to ramble without people knowing who I was. Anonymity is a privilege.
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How to search my blog:
Posts that I’ve made: #mothergo0se
Posts that I love: #go0selikey
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My inbox is always open… now if I respond is a different story 😘
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This is a fanfic of @destinedfordiapers story about Sammy. You can read chapter one here.
Sammy had been glued to Alex's side all morning.
Not in a way that begged for attention. She just seemed... off. Quieter than usual. Every now and then she'd rub at her stomach or shift like she couldn't get comfortable.
Alex noticed
"You okay, sweetheart?"
She shrugged, leaning against him. "My tummy hurts."
"Cramps?"
"I don't know. Maybe."
He rested a hand on the back of her neck and kissed her forehead.
"Tell me if it gets worse."
"I will."
She meant to.
But about an hour later, she felt something... different.
She slipped away to the nursery, telling herself she was probably imagining it. Maybe she'd just leaked. Maybe she needed a fresh diaper
She wasn't supposed to change herself. That was one of the rules. Alex always took care of her.
But she didn't want to bother him if it was nothing.
By the time she'd gotten the tapes undone, her stomach was in knots.
There was blood.
Her heart dropped.
"No..."
She stared at it for a long second, her mind refusing to catch up.
Had she hurt herself? Had something happened? Why hadn't she noticed?
She grabbed a clean diaper with shaking hands, trying to figure out what to do.
"...Sammy?"
Alex's voice came from the hallway.
She froze.
"I'm in here."
Her voice sounded much smaller than she'd meant it to.
The door opened a second later.
His eyes flicked from her face to the diaper sitting on top of the bin.
Understanding crossed his face almost immediately.
"Oh, sweetheart."
The tears she'd been holding back spilled over.
"I'm sorry.”
He didn't even acknowledge the apology.
Instead, he crossed the room and took both of her hands.
"You are not in trouble."
"I changed myself."
"I know."
"I broke the rule."
"You did."
She looked at him, waiting.
There was no disappointment in his face. No frustration. Just concern.
"You were scared," he said softly. "That changes things."
She let out a shaky breath.
"I think something is wrong."
He gave her hands a little squeeze.
"There isn't."
She frowned.
"But... there's blood."
"It's your period."
She blinked.
Then blinked again.
"...Oh."
He watched the realization settle in.
"My first one..." she murmured. "...since I became…”
"Became an L2, yeah”
"I completely forgot."
A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"I figured."
She huffed out a laugh through the last of her tears.
"That's really unfair."
"It is."
He brushed his thumb across her cheek.
"But next time?" He said to her
She nodded.
"You come get me."
"Even if I think it's nothing?"
"Especially then."
"And even if I'm scared?"
His answer came without hesitation.
"Especially then."
She leaned into him, finally letting herself relax as he wrapped his arms around her.
"I'll take care of it," he murmured.
"Thank you."
"And for the record..."
She looked up.
"You weren't in trouble the second I walked through that door and saw that diaper."
She smiled then. A real one.
"There she is."
He kissed the top of her head before reaching for a fresh diaper
"Now come here, sweetheart. Let's get you cleaned up."
Sammy glared at Allie, who returned it with a smile.
The small, thin plastic bag was all that was about to separate Sammy’s hand from Kaya’s warm, stinky poop.
Inspiration struck Sammy. “You know, poop is a great fertilizer. I bet if we leave it, we’ll have the best lawn in the neighborhood!”
“Nice try, Sammy”
Kaya sits next to Sammy, panting happily in the shade of the oak tree.
“Proud of yourself, Kaya?”
Sammy reached down and grabbed the poop.
“Ew, ew, ew!”
Allie laughed at Sammy’s clumsy, yet ultimately successful, operation.
“Okay, let’s go wash your hands.”
“Don’t need to tell me twice!”
Sammy followed Allie inside, while Kaya decided she wanted a few more minutes of sunbathing.
“It’s hot outside,” Sammy said, holding out her hand for Allie to squirt the soap.
With her hands washed, Sammy headed to the couch to enjoy her lazy Saturday morning.
One thing Sammy was grateful for—despite Allie Little-proofing all the streaming apps—was that Sammy could still access all the educational documentaries she loved.
And not just the ones for Littles and children.
Scrolling through Netflix, she found an interesting show called “A Trip to Infinity.” Satisfied after watching the trailer, she put it on.
A few minutes later, Allie came into the room holding a basket of laundry.
“This is what you watch for fun? My brain hurts and it’s only been 30 seconds!”
“It’s fascinating.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” Allie said walking away.
Sammy was so focused on the show, she shook when someone knocked on the door.
She stared at the door, unsure if she should open it or wait for Allie. She was saved the trouble.
“I wonder who that could be?” Allie opened the door.
“Jeez, a sister can’t drop by unannounced to say hello? Way to make a girl feel welcome!”
Everyone laughed as Allie let Lindsay in and shut the door.
Lindsay saw Sammy’s show and giggled. “Some things never change, eh?” She sat next to Sammy.
Sammy knew Lindsay long enough to know she was excited about something, but looking for an opening.
She gave it to her. “So, what’s up, Linds?”
“Well, I wanted to see if you and Allie wanted to come help me move into my dorm on Monday since it’ll be harder to hang out for a while.”
Sammy recognized the pure joy on Lindsay’s face, the excitement of starting her next chapter in life. She understood it. Understood why she wanted her best friend there for it.
And understood that she didn’t mean to cause the sharp pangs of jealousy and grief tearing through Sammy.
She was happy for Lindsay, of course. Genuinely, authentically happy.
“Wha—? Oh…” Sammy stammered.
It wasn’t that Sammy didn’t want to be there for Lindsay. She did.
But she should be getting ready to move into her own dorm…
Lindsay noticed Sammy’s hesitation, eyes wide with the realization that her question was vastly more emotionally complicated than she expected. She should have known.
“O-only if you want to, of course! I…” she said, looking to Allie for support.
Unlike Lindsay, Allie understood why Sammy would be hesitant. What emotions must be bubbling inside of her.
Maybe it would be better to tell Lindsay they had plans to save Sammy the burden of answering—let alone going.
But another voice, stronger and more assured, echoed in her head. Telling her what she knew was true.
Sammy needed to be the one to decide.
“What do you think, Sammy?” Allie asks.
Sammy dreaded being on campus, surrounded by peers embarking on their college experience, knowing she’ll never be a part of it.
The alternative scared her more.
What would it mean if she hid from reality in her nursery, protected by the very thing that was stealing her future?
No.
“I-I’d love to help, Linds!”
Lindsay breathed a sigh of relief before hugging Sammy.
“Yay! Thank you so much, Sam! I know it won’t be easy but…but I couldn’t imagine doing this without my best friend with me!”
Allie watched Sammy and Lindsay discuss the dorm, the move, and Lindsay’s plan to decorate it. Sammy never ran from the conversation. She had never been prouder of Sammy.
Maybe Sammy can make it to Stanford after all.
Lindsay stayed another hour before Allie hinted that it was almost nap time. Not wanting to make it seem obvious, Lindsay came up with an excuse about packing.
“Bye guys, see you Monday!”
With Lindsay gone, Allie sat next to Sammy.
“Are you sure you’re ready for this? I can tell Lindsay something came up, I know it will be difficult after everything…”
“I’m sure, Allie. I…I need to do it. Even if it sucks.”
“You’re stronger than you realize, you know that?”
Sammy nodded solemnly. “It’s…it’s just how can I make it to Stanford if I’m too scared to face the world? Why should I be ashamed of who I am?”
Allie saw the determination in Sammy’s eyes. “That’s a very mature way of thinking about it. I’m so proud of you, Sammy.”
“Besides, daycare can’t be worse than being on a college campus, with people my age, as a Little, right? If I can do this, I can do anything!”
“Oh, yes. You’re absolutely right. Are you excited about daycare? In two weeks, you start your own college journey. It may not be the same as Lindsay’s, but it’s yours.”
“Y-yeah…I think so,” Sammy answered with far less confidence than before.
“Think so?”
“Well…I want to show everyone I’m not just a Little, that I’m still the same person that got accepted into Stanford…”
“Is there a but in that sentence?”
“I read the Little’s Preparatory Academy welcome packet you left on the counter and… well, did you see the supply list for the first day? Markers, crayons, stickers, and glue sticks!”
“I did, yes. I know it looks odd, but this is where Stanford recommends for you. It must be good if they chose it, right?”
“I guess…”
“Sammy, look at me. You can do this. I believe in you. And even if you change your mind, I’ll love you just as much, got it?”
“Change my mind? Never. I’ll show them; I’ll be the best student the Little’s Preparatory Academy has ever seen. It’ll be no different from high school. Well, except for…you know.”
Allie laughs, hiding the anxiety from Sammy’s determination to continue down the path. Not because she doesn’t believe in Sammy, but because she sees the version of Sammy that would be crushed by the loss of her dream.
“Maybe Lindsay will never help me move into a dorm, but by this time next summer, we will both be college students!”
“I don’t doubt it for a second. But…”
“But?”
“Next summer is a long way away. It’s already past naptime.”
“I’m not tired, Allie! Please can I finish my show? Please?”
Allie sighs. “Fine, but unlike the infinity, you still have a finite amount of time before I put you down.”
Sammy sticks out her tongue. “So funny!”
Ten minutes later, Sammy is fast asleep when Allie picks her up and deposits her into her crib after changing her diaper.
Sammy let herself drift to the bottom of the pool, enjoying the temperature and the silence of being underwater. For a few fleeting moments, Sammy could almost believe she was free for the first time since her Classification.
Down there, under the water, it was easy to pretend she was alone, with nobody to tell her what to do, or to be careful, or to dote on her.
Nobody to remind her she was a Little.
The reprieve was short-lived as her lungs begged for air.
“Sammy! Sammy! Look!” Hannah squealed the moment she surfaced, waving pool noodles like a trophy.
“I’m sure she’s seen pool noodles before, Squirt,” Jane chided from the ledge of the pool, her feet dangling in the water. She was clearly enjoying her chance to prove she was responsible.
Unfazed, Hannah swam to Sammy to hand-deliver a noodle. “Here, you take the blue one. The pink one is my favorite!”
“Thanks,” Sammy said, taking the noodle.
“Wanna play mermaids?”
“Wait until Emily comes so we can play together,” Jane insisted.
Hannah huffed but didn’t argue. “Kay…”
“And don’t think you don’t need to tell me if you have an accident or you’ll get in trouble, remember?”
“Duh!” Hannah replied, showing no sign of embarrassment.
“That goes for you, too, Sammy.”
Sammy nodded, cheeks burning, remembering she was in a swim diaper. She somehow managed to forget. But now that she was focused on it, she wondered how she managed not to notice it.
Watching Sammy’s smile falter, Jane slid into the pool.
“Hey, I didn’t mean to embarrass you,” Jane whispered. “I guess I’m used to Hannah not worrying about her diapers.”
Sammy was grateful Jane understood. “Thanks. Maybe Hannah is right to not care.”
“Nah, she’s just used to it. Once you’re at daycare for a while and realize you’re not the only one going through this, it gets easier.”
“Yeah, daycare is the BEST, Sammy! It’s so much fun! We get to play all day, and you can be my best friend!” Hannah shouted at the prospect of it.
Hannah’s genuine excitement took Sammy by surprise. It was one thing to accept she was a Little. But how could Hannah love daycare when that was where her dreams of becoming a teacher died?
Yet, Sammy couldn’t shake the idea that maybe Hannah was the lucky one. Hannah didn’t fret over the future, her past, or anything but the present. She had no reservations about being a Little.
Wasn’t there freedom in that? Power even?
Sammy glanced around the pool, studying each person, searching for any evidence to contradict the unmistakable truth: Hannah was the happiest person there.
Why shouldn’t Sammy want that for herself?
She spends so much energy worrying about how people see her…and for what? It won’t help her stop being a Little.
All she had to do was let go.
Sammy realized Hannah never stopped talking about daycare.
“And the playground has three slides! And there’s a tower where we play Knights and Princesses! You could be a Princess!”
“The most beautiful princess in all the land!” Sammy said in her most regal voice.
“Mhm! And and your Knight in Shining Armor can save you from the dragons!” Hannah added, excited that Sammy was engaging.
A twang of sadness hit Sammy at the thought that a boy—another Little like her—would be that Knight in Shining Armor.
But Sammy resisted, determined to stop herself from another pity party.
Not today.
She looked at Hannah's expectant face, eager to play, and decided that for today, at least, she would let herself enjoy the moment. What harm would there be in being Little for the afternoon? She can worry about everything else later.
She’s earned a day of fun.
“My Knight will be the most gallant in the kingdom! He’ll protect his Princess from 100 dragons if he has to!”
At a table a few feet away, Kendra tops off Alyssa and Linda’s wine. Linda had just sat back down, her face reflecting the exasperation of dealing with a little struggling with potty training after months of success.
Kendra raises her glass. “To the joys of being a Caregiver.”
“Never a dull moment,” Linda agrees.
Allie watches Emily shyly approach the pool.
“Poor thing, she says, “Must be tough having accidents being an L3.”
“We have a meeting with her Daycare Supervisor on Monday to discuss her accidents. I’m not sure she’ll like their recommendations very much.”
Kendra nods in agreement. “Nope, but it’s what's best for her. They’re the best in the business for a reason as you’ll see, Allie.”
“I’ve heard nothing but rave reviews,” Allie said.
“Oh, they work wonders,” Linda agreed. “You couldn’t have chosen a better place to help Sammy.”
“I guess that’s why Stanford recommended them. It’s a relief knowing Sammy is in the best place for her to make it through the program.”
Allie couldn’t place the look between Kendra and Linda.
“So, Sammy is still set on Stanford?”
“Oh yes, she’s quite determined. With any luck, she’ll be enrolled for spring semester!” Allie said proudly, as if rebuffing the look.
“Well, a Caregiver's work is never easy—every Little has their own challenges. Sammy with college, Emily with potty training. You really hit the jackpot with Hannah, Kendra.”
“I wish I could take full credit, but I don’t know where we would be if it weren’t for the program. Hannah had the same issue, you know. Determined to go to college. So, I understand the anxiety.”
“What do you mean?” Allie asked.
“Having to worry about Sammy failing college courses. That’s what makes the program a lifesaver; they really focus on helping Littles accept their regression and avoid all that unnecessary trauma.”
“I’ve heard it can be devastating for Littles. I imagine it’ll be such a relief when Sammy lets go of Stanford, and you have a sweet Little like Hannah. I got lucky Emily wanted to be an artist. All I needed to help her was a few hundred dollars of art supplies.”
Allie forced a smile, fighting a storm raging inside her. She watched Hannah splash around, giggling.
She wanted Sammy to make it to Stanford, of course. Sammy was her Little; her job as a Caregiver was to help her be happy. The thought of holding a heartbroken Sammy, knowing she would never make it to Stanford, was almost too devastating to imagine.
But deep down, she wondered if Kendra and Linda were right.
Was it not more loving—compassionate even—to guide Sammy away from Stanford? Isn’t it her duty to ensure Sammy avoids unnecessary trauma? Would she be a bad Caregiver to even let Sammy try, knowing the odds are stacked against her?
Allie watched Sammy playing mermaids with the girls, lost in thought.
Laughing and out of breath, Sammy and Hannah swam to the ledge, both smiling ear to ear.
For the first time in days, Allie saw the same joy that Hannah radiated on Sammy’s face. An authentic, reflexive happiness.
Seeing Sammy embracing the moment, enjoying herself as a Little, Allie let herself imagine a world where Sammy was always this happy, this free, this unburdened. A quiet, aching wish to keep Sammy right here. Laughing and small and safe.
A world where she never has to mend Sammy’s shattered heart from a future determined to crush it.
And the terrible thing, the thing that frightened Allie most, was how much it sounded like love.
I’d like some advice… I used to be able to have anal sex with my husband. And omg, did that give me some of the best Os.
However, since having my baby, I have an external hemorrhoid that won’t go away. It doesn’t hurt, except when we try to have anal. I also wonder, since we haven’t done that in a while, if I need to stretch back out? Idk. Has anyone ever successfully done anal during/ after having a hemorrhoid?
I’d like comments, DMs, anything with advice… bc I miss it
Things I’ve tried that didn’t work—
Putting in a medium butt plug, with a lot of lube, then placing a diaper on over it to stop me from touching/taking out for an hour.
Using multiple fingers to stretch things out.
Enemas
Breathing exercises
Self play to get used to it again
Large dildos inside, and then a diaper on top to stop it from exiting the premises
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It’s been a fun ride, but I’m not sure Mother Goose is going to make anymore stories… I just don’t have the drive I once did. Life has been stupid busy.
This caption was written with, is for, and features the adorable @prettymuchpottytrained. I just may have a few more captions left in the tank after all.
Anyone watching you through the baby monitor would be forgiven for thinking you were nothing more than a toddler refusing to sleep. Between the expensive baby monitor Daddy bought and the Bluey nightlight, your infantile state was impossible to miss.
Your Bluey shirt failed spectacularly to cover your overworked Stardust Nursery diaper, which drooped adorably between your legs. Your binky bobbed sporadically while you surveyed the nursery.
Nobody seeing you would ever believe you were actually an adult.
But you could hear what the baby monitor could not—the telltale sounds of pleasure coming from Daddy’s bedroom.
“Ahhh, she's so stinking cute in her widdle diapers!” Mary squealed in delight, watching the diaper-clad girl on Daddy's phone, “She’s like a real baby with her pacifier!”
“Just wait,” Daddy said behind a smirk, knowing what's about to happen. “It gets better. But try not to wake her up. It was hard enough putting her down for her nap and she’s just as fussy as a toddler if it gets interrupted.”
Daddy’s friends nod conspiratorially as they go back to watching the recording on his phone while you nap down the hall, blissfully unaware that your antics are the star of the show.
Had you known the baby monitor had a camera, you might have resisted your urges.
But you didn’t.
You couldn’t resist the siren song of pleasure. Between Mommy’s moans and Daddy’s decisive grunts—and your throbbing princess parts—you were utterly helpless to control yourself.
There you were, kneeling in your crib and diaper, listening to the unmistakable sounds of pure, erotic bliss, forced to accept the truth of your new place in life.
Nobody considered you an adult anymore.
Your nursery was no longer ornamental; it was a functional room designed to handle the needs of a diaper-dependent little one.
Your diapers were no longer accessories; they were necessary. It had been so long since you used the potty that the only time you spent out of them was for baths and the few minutes a day Daddy let your skin air out.
Your clothes no longer serve to highlight your feminine curves; they were designed to make diaper changes easier for Daddy.
Your binky was no longer a “mute button;” it was a necessary tool to calm the nerves of someone too emotionally immature to be expected to self-soothe.
Naptime is no longer an occasional event; it is now a daily requirement to avoid tantrums. One missed nap meant hours of fussiness.
Daddy didn’t strip away your decision-making and autonomy because he made you squirm; he did it because he no longer believes you are capable of managing yourself without a caregiver.
He sees you for who you are.
You aren’t his strong, independent wife anymore; you’re his poopy pamper princess. He knows you don’t need him to be a husband—you need Daddy. Someone to wipe the tears off your cheeks when you’re overwhelmed, to change your icky diapies, and to slide your favorite stuffy into your arms before bed.
Which is why Mommy is the one moaning in pleasure—not you.
You didn't get demoted to the nursery because you're just some silly cuckquean, getting off on being relegated to humping stuffies in a soggy diaper. He's not doing it to tease, humiliate, or titillate you.
He’s doing it because he can no longer imagine the sweet, innocent babygirl who squeals in delight when he blows raspberries on her tummy during poopy diaper changes as a sexual being.
You’re his baby.
His love for you is as strong as the day he married you—but the nature of your intimate moments together has irreconcilably changed.
For him, nothing beats the slow, tender evenings with you wrapped up in his arms, staring up at him with sleepy eyes full of love, your binky bobbing slower and slower until you drift off.
Or the rainy weekends when he raids the linen closet so he can build a fort with his little one, making room for every stuffy. Or the binky kisses.
How could he possibly imagine you as an adult with sexual desires?
“Wait…she’s not gonna use that stuffy to do that, right?” James gasped, watching you lay your favorite stuffy on his back.
Mommy and Daddy look at each other, trying not to laugh.
“She does have one naughty big girl habit,” Mommy chuckled as you positioned yourself with the stuffy, “But it’s just so stinking cute. Best part is she thinks she’s sneaky, too.”
They watch your adorably clumsy thrusts into your favorite stuffy. Slowly at first, glancing at the door periodically. Then faster. Greedier.
Mary sighed, “I can't believe I took sex advice from her.”
“Maybe you should take a leaf from her book,” James quipped, “You've been single for so long, maybe a stuffy would be the perfect boyfriend. Besides, you'd look so cute in one of those diapers! Wait, her little diaper crinkles as she humps are adorable!”
Daddy immediately rushed to pause the video.
“Why'd you pause it?”
“Because the video doesn't have sound...”
“Wha-whacha wachin', Daddy?” you mumbled. You were too groggy from your nap to be embarrassed about your friends seeing your adorably frizzy hair, diaper, and binky.
“Oh, just some boring video, nothing you'd enjoy, kiddo.”
Daddy slid the phone into his pocket before lifting you up and resting you on his hip.
“Oh my gosh, do the stars on her diaper fade away when she's wet?” Mary asks, “See, those stars are normal, and those ones are gone.”
Daddy crinkles your diaper playfully. “They do! We thought they might help her with some potty training. Seeing her stars go 'bye-bye' might inspire her to stay dry, but...Well, let's just say I expect diapers to be part of her life for a long, long time.”
Knowing your diaper is on full display—and hearing everyone casually talk about your potty training struggles—you hide your face in Daddy's neck, holding onto him like a koala in a hurricane.
“What are you doing out of bed, hmm?” Daddy cooed, bouncing you slightly to distract you from noticing his hand pulling back your diaper.
“D-Dada!” you whine at the indignity of this public diaper check.
Daddy rubs your back. “Uh oh...are you Dada's little stinkerpants? Poor baby, trying to sleep in that icky yucky didi...”
You peel yourself from Dada's neck to give him your devastating puppy-dog eyes.
“C'mon, baby, let's get you out of that poopy diapie,” Daddy says, heading towards your nursery.
As you're carried off you catch something about a stuffy and laughter.
“Wuh funny bou' sthuffie, Dada?” you ask as you're gently deposited onto the changing table.
Daddy tickles your tummy. “Oh, they can't get over how much you love your stuffies, that's all.”
For a split-second, a horrible dread crept into your mind—do they know? Why did Daddy say "love" like that? Did Daddy hear when you...played with Dijon?
But the thought is forgotten the moment cold air rushes into your princess parts as Daddy peels back your diaper.
The only thing that mattered was Daddy putting you in a fresh, warm diaper.
hello mommy I'm from the middle east and I'm ABDL boy can i ask u how i can be full baby alone because I don't have mommy/daddy and thank you 💖
Hi anon,
Honestly? Being a full baby while alone will be hard. You probably won’t be able to get fully into the mindset, depending on how little you want to regress.
For example- if you want to be newborn-6 months, you need someone there to help you. If you want to fully regress.
Now! I’m not saying you can’t, I’m just saying, at some point, an adult (you) still has to be able to make decisions and keep yourself safe. I truly recommend finding whatever relaxes you; coloring, watching cartoons, playing with blocks, etc. and start there and build as you get more and more comfortable with your little side.
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Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
🙈 this is a DD/LG… I was also unable to edit it. So enjoy the raw version.
“Hi sunshine. Let’s get you changed” he says as he walks up to me. There is no room in his tone for any back talk.
“Okay, daddy”
I get up and make my way over to our changing table. Slowly climbing up the stairs, and hoping I can show him how cute I look and get out of this.
That doesn’t happen.
I’m swiftly put on my back, wet diaper on display and my daddy looking right at me with eyes that remind me why he is in charge.
“But-”
I’m cut off before I can make my plea. A large circular gag is placed in my mouth. The kind that holds your mouth open and has a large hole in the middle so someone can still access your mouth.
Oh no.
Daddy undoes the tapes on my diaper and pulls it down to expose my princess parts.
He runs his fingers through my folds and when they come back dripping wet, he places them in his mouth and licks them clean.
“God, you always taste so good!” He tells me.
Then he plunges two fingers back into me and pumps them in and out, over and over again. Distracting me from what he is preparing on the side.
An enema.
He slides the hose into my bottom. Just about the time he has it fully situated, I realize what’s going on.
“You were very naughty. And naughty girls need cleaned out, and their bottoms stuffed to be reminded of their place.”
I go to argue and I am reminded of the gag in my mouth.
“Do not let go until I tell you too. If you let go early, you’ll stay in that messy diaper until tomorrow morning.” He tells me.
I will not be doing that! So I better pay attention to what he needs me to do.
He turns the hose and lets the soapy water run into my colon. I can normally take the first half of the bag with no problems. It’s the second half that I have a hard time holding onto. And he knows it. Almost as soon as the bag is half empty he starts to undo his belt and slide it off his body.
I’m sweating. Afraid of what is about to happen and trying really hard to hold in the water.
About 3/4 of the bag empties and he turns in off.
“Stand up”
I do and he places a puppy pad under me.
“Get on your hands and knees on top of the pad”
I do as he says and know exactly what’s coming. Luckily, sitting like this is easier to hold the water in, but it also means, that he has a full view of my clenched butt, and nothing to stop him from spanking me.
He pulls the belt back, and hits me on the butt. Hard.
I’m drooling from the gag. Sweating from the enema. And my pussy is dripping wet.
He gives me 5 more spanks from the belt before he drops it to the floor and grabs the new diaper.
I truly don’t know how I’m still holding in the water. My face is tear streaked and the amount of drool on my chin is impressive.
“Lay on your back”
I roll over, wincing when my red bottom touches the diaper he laid out, and accept my fate.
Daddy applies diaper rash cream and baby powder before he pulls my diaper up and tapes it in place.
“You can let go now”
I try to argue. Not wanting to do it in front of him. That’s embarrassing. My face turns bright red.
“It’s either now, or while you’re blowing me. I think now is a better option” he tells me. And I blush even harder. Knowing I won’t be able to hold it once I’m perched on my knees giving him a blow job.
Truly I can’t hold it any longer anyway.
I let go. It’s loud. And embarrassing. And I can feel the water and poo filling that diaper to its capacity.
Once I’m done, or done for now. Daddy looks pleased. He reaches down and pats my diaper, right over where my clit is. The padding has swelled up so much that the friction is almost enough to get me off.
God I’m embarrassed.
“Good girl. Now get on your knees”
I do as he says. On my knees. In a messy diaper that I swear weighs 10 pounds. And he sticks his boot under me.
“You may rub. You may try as hard as you’d like to cum. But you better cum first, because once I cum, I’m done.” He tells me right before he shoves his dick through the hole in the gag.
My body betrays me. My hips start moving on their own accord. Begging for a release. And his boot is just enough pressure on this full diaper to help me get there.
I’m working his dick in my mouth to the same beat as my hips are moving. I can feel myself pooping again, and I can’t bring myself to care.
I’m almost there.
He is shooting his cum down my throat. And, true to his word, he finishes and pulls out and moves his boot. Leaving me on the verge, but not done.
“Poor thing. It’s okay, messy girls shouldn’t cum anyway. I’m going to clean up, and then I’ll clean you up.”
And he just, walks away. Leaving me messy. Horny. And wondering how I can make this happen again.
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.”
Still blushing furiously, he hurries back out toward the party, determined to pretend none of this ever happened.
Hiiii goosey! Um I wrote ah story (my first post) and was hoping you could read it? A second part IS coming I’m like half way done, anyways it would make me happpyyy!!
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I hear it from the other room and I freeze for half a second, because surely you didn’t just say that.
But then you do it again.
“Are you fucking serious right now?”
My head turns slowly, and I lean just enough to look at you from where I’m standing. “…Excuse me?”
You go still. Not because you didn’t mean it, but because now you know I heard it.
I take a few steps closer, not rushed, not loud. That quiet kind of serious that’s worse than yelling.
“What did you just say?” I ask, softer this time.
There’s that look on your face, half stubborn, half like maybe you can play this off.
“Mmm. No. Don’t give me that.” I shake my head a little. “I want you to say it again. Exactly how you said it.”
You hesitate… and then, like you’re testing me, you mutter, “I said are you fucking serious.”
I let out a slow breath through my nose, blinking once. “Oh, you did, huh.”
A small pause. Just enough to let that sit between us.
“And you thought that was okay to say that?” I ask, tilting my head. “In this house?”
You shrug. Bad move.
“Yeah, no. We’re not doing that.”
I step in closer now, close enough that you actually have to look at me. “You don’t get to throw words like that around and then act like it’s nothing. You know better. I know you know better.”
Another pause… and then you push it, just a little more.
“It’s just a word,” you mumble. “Who cares?”
I let out a quiet, disbelieving laugh. “Oh, that’s the hill you’re picking right now?”
They nod once, decision made.
“Alright. Come on.”
I turn and start toward the bathroom without waiting, fully expecting you to follow, and after a second, I hear it. Reluctant footsteps behind me.
“Yeah,” I say over my shoulder, “you can bring that attitude with you too. We’ll deal with both.”
I reach the sink and pick up the bar of soap, turning it over in my hand before I look back at you.
Your expression shifts the second you see it.
“Mm-hmm,” I murmur. “Now you’re thinking about it.”
I step a little closer. “Open.”
You hesitate.
I raise my eyebrows. “Don’t.”
That’s all it takes.
You open your mouth, slow and unsure, and I shake my head slightly, more disappointed than anything.
“Such a nasty mouth for someone who knows how to be sweet,” I say quietly. “We’re fixing that.”
It’s brief, just enough to make the point, not dragged out, but long enough that you’re definitely not enjoying it.
“Alright. Rinse.”
I nod toward the sink, letting you handle that part while I lean back against the counter, arms loosely crossed.
When you’re done, I don’t soften right away.
“Now,” I say, “we’re still not finished.”
I tip my head toward the hallway. “Go on. Timeout.”
You glance at me like maybe, just maybe, I’ll let it go now.
I don’t.
“Five minutes,” I add. “And I want you thinking about why you felt so comfortable talking like that in the first place.”
You drag your feet just a little on the way out.
“Hey,” I call after you.
You pause.
My voice drops just a touch, still firm, but warmer underneath. “I’m serious. I expect better from you. And you are better than that.”
A beat.
“So when you come back,” I finish, “you try again. With a respectful tone and some decent words.”
I let that sit as you finally head off, shaking my head once under my breath.
“Fucking serious” I mutter quietly, echoing you just enough to make my point. “Not in my house.”
