The Naughty Nurse

You don't know anything about what grownups do with those parts, and you're not ready for it yet.

“He’s your new friend. In fact, I think you two are in love. Can you use Beary here and show me how Mommy and Daddy express their love for each other?”

This was your first chance at release in how long? When Daddy first put you in diapers you received all the orgasms your little heart desired—only in your diapers, of course. Then all of a sudden it stopped. No more fun. The diapers stayed, but the orgasms stopped. Any untoward rocking of your hips or suggestive grinding resulted in serious punishments. Had it really been over a year of diapers?

You sat by the gate in nothing but your t-shirt and wet diaper. Daddy leaned over and kissed the top of your head.

“Go ahead and, what do you call it? ‘Make humpies?’ If baby does a good job showing off with your boyfriend, maybe Daddy could ‘make humpies’ with you again. We won’t tell Mommy,” He whispered in your ear.

Your heart started racing at the thought. You threw your leg over the big stuffed animal and straddled it, determined to show off what you knew in your life before, your life as a big girl who wore big girl pants and used the potty. You began to hump the bear, slowly, tentatively, acutely aware of the noises your wet diaper made as you grinded on the fluffy bear. You felt the wetness of your padding caress and glide and press against your no-no parts and moaned at the utter degrading lifestyle you put yourself in for this man, your Daddy. These thoughts and physical sensations swirled in your headspace.

“Is that all little girls know how to do?” Daddy goaded, watching.

You froze, but didn’t look up.

“I thought making humpies was supposed to feel good and be fun? We can stop if you’re not having fun,” He teased.

He was right. You picked up the pace, your face flush with the need for release, and embarrassment that the only way to do so was in a sodden diaper. The crinkles came more quickly, more vigorously. Yes, you wanted this, you needed this. You needed to show Daddy that you could still please him!

“Show me how a big girl pleases their boyfriend,” he commanded.

You began to ride in earnest, bucking your hips and gyrating in your wet diaper, pulling out all the tricks you used to do when you were a big girl, when you could do things to pleasure men in ways that would make them moan in seconds.

And just like that, it was over. You moaned and collapsed on the big stuffed animal, completely spent and straddling the bear, your diapered ass pointing directly up at Daddy.

“Barely over thirty seconds, baby,” A feminine voice cooed.

You turned around, startled. Mommy was holding out her phone, showing the timer.

“Clearly not a big girl,” she said, smiling.

Daddy stepped into the playpen and picked you up, cradling your diapered butt.

“Okay, little one, time to get your diaper changed and put you down for a nap,” he said.

He came over to Mommy with you in his arms and gave her a passionate kiss. Her perfume made her smell like a big girl. You used to smell like that once, but now that scent was replaced by the smell of baby powder, and often other things like pee. As he walked you to the nursery you watched Mommy pick up your bear and move it out of the playpen.

He’ll get his shirt on all by himself and I’ll lay his toddler undies on the bed by his pants. “Come see mommy once you’re finished, baby boy. Don’t zip up your pants yet, okay? Mommy needs to make sure you dressed yourself properly!”

“Okay mommy!” He’ll giggle. He listens to big boy music when he gets ready and the contrast between the loud thumping music and his little undies with the ABCs and building blocks all over them makes my heart feel like it’s gonna burst. I love him so much.

He’ll shuffle over to me once he’s finished, his cheeks already tinting red before I’ve even said anything.

“My baby! C’mere!” I’ll tug him forward by his belt loops and slip my hand into his undies. He’ll gasp and start to squirm, his hands immediately shooting up to cover his face. This time I let him because I’ll need both of my hands in a moment.

“Mooooommmyyyy…what’re you doin’?”

“Well cutie pie,” I pull his little baby part out of his undies and give it a squeeze, “I’ve promised to always protect you. All of you. Even your little thingy.”

I grab his baby pink chastity cage from the counter and work on getting it on him before he can react. He’ll fuss but he won’t try to stop me…he’s the most obedient lil thing in the whole wide world and he’s all mine! How lucky am I?

“Just because we’re going to be out with mommy’s grown up friends doesn’t mean you’re a grown up right?”

“Right mommy…”

“And this way,” I lock his cage and unclasp my necklace, slipping the key onto the chain, “I’ll be able to tease you allll night and your little baby cock won’t be able to do anything. He’ll try soooo hard…but,” I pull his undies and pants back up, zipping and buttoning them closed, “…nothin’.”

Meeting the right person isn’t about fireworks or chaos. It’s about safety. It’s about the deep exhale you didn’t realize you’d been holding. The right person becomes your anchor and your wings at the same time. The one you can hand your vulnerability to without fear it will ever be weaponized or used against you.

In kink, trust is everything. And when love grows inside that trust, it transforms the dynamic. Your partner isn’t just your Dominant, your submissive, or your playmate. They’re your best friend. The one who sees you raw, messy, joyful, broken, turned on, turned inside out and stays.

That’s the magic of finding them: knowing you can explore the edges of yourself because there’s someone right there, steady and sure, holding the rope and holding your heart.

Love is safety. Love is freedom. And love, when you’ve met the right person, is the best friendship you’ll ever know.

Meeting the right person isn’t about fireworks or chaos. It’s about safety. It’s about the deep exhale you didn’t realize you’d been holding. The right person becomes your anchor and your wings at the same time. The one you can hand your vulnerability to without fear it will ever be weaponized or used against you.

In kink, trust is everything. And when love grows inside that trust, it transforms the dynamic. Your partner isn’t just your Dominant, your submissive, or your playmate. They’re your best friend. The one who sees you raw, messy, joyful, broken, turned on, turned inside out and stays.

That’s the magic of finding them: knowing you can explore the edges of yourself because there’s someone right there, steady and sure, holding the rope and holding your heart.

Love is safety. Love is freedom. And love, when you’ve met the right person, is the best friendship you’ll ever know.