Windel's Nursery for Good Boys

That sinking feeling when Daddy starts outlining his sailing plans while drinking with his buddies and you realize what was initially sold as a brief boat-only vacation from your boys clothes has spiraled into a multi-month odyssey to every port from here to Timbuktu.

Justin felt the blushing heat spread across his cheeks, knowing how he must look: his hips sporadically rutting into the pillow beneath him, his cushy diaper tinted yellow with pee, and his jaw clenched together in an attempt to weather overwhelming waves of pleasure.

Yes, under all that uncontrolled humping, Justin was vaguely aware of how babyish and pathetic he looked. That knowledge intertwined with his unstoppable penchant for pleasure to fuel his infantile diaper humpies, which quickly became too much for him.

His member relentlessly squished against the pissy padding one final time, eliciting a spurt into Justin’s already used diaper. Justin moaned out in satisfaction as his body convulsed, and he collapsed onto the mattress.

He groaned, now fully aware of how pathetic he was as he lay atop his mattress, sweaty from exertion and wearing a cummy diaper. Without thinking, his thumb found its way to his lips. His eyelids drooped low, feeling the post orgasm sleepiness come over him. Yes, it was very good that no one saw this or was looking for him… or so he thought.

Across the city, in a very special conference room:

“To finish off the report, key metrics like client satisfaction and new inbound leads are both up,” a red-head woman smiled out over a conference table encircled by a small cohort of other, professionally dressed women.

The women clapped, and some even lightly cheered. The energy in the room was palpable, carefully built up over years of camaraderie and something… deeper.

“Wonder job as always, Evie.” The tall blonde sitting at the head of the conference table spoke: “I am just so proud of everyone here. You all have really been crushing it, and as always, I am so overjoyed to head a team of such smart, capable, and charming women.”

“Ahww, that’s so sweet!” Evie gushed, “But it’s all because of you, Genine. You really know how to bring us together and keep team morale high!”

“Here here!” The room cheered, causing Genine to lightly blush at the praise.

“Thanks girls!” Genine continued, “Speaking of team morale, how’s Project Play Pen coming along?”

“Our first phase is complete,” A smaller framed brunette leaned forward in her chair, “The targeted listings have been placed on only the most relevant websites and should only be shown to… promising candidates. Now, we wait for someone to bite, and then it’ll be Alicia’s turn.”

“I can’t wait,” Alicia, a woman with gorgeous milk chocolate skin, grinned in anticipation.

Back at Justin’s Apartment:

“Mmmmm” Justin hummed, slowly returning from his slumber. He blinked the sleep out of his eyes as his thumb slid out of his mouth, a stringy trail of saliva connecting it to his lips.

Justin sat up, nose twitching at the unmistakable scent of urine and cum. “Gross,” he thought to himself with a frown: “I’m gross. Why am I like this?”

The man ripped the tabs of his diaper open with a decisive sweeping motion, allowing the spent diaper to fall haphazardly onto his mostly clean mattress. “Ughhh,” Justin groaned.

Unsure of his next course of action, the now-naked manchild reached for his phone. Upon opening it, he was immediately reminded of his afternoon activity: the screen displayed a familiar cartoon drawing of a man in a diaper sitting on a woman’s lap. Justin’s thumb quickly moved to close the ABDL webpage, but not before he saw something interesting.

It was an advertisement. Of course, that by itself was remarkably typical on the internet. But this particular ad was unusual, especially for an ABDL website:

For one, it was a listing for a job in his city. For two, it paid fairly generously and required no prior experience. It was for an office administrative assistant.

Justin’s eyes scanned the listing; just the stated starting salary alone would noticeably improve his life. He could afford to eat out far more and finally move out of his shitty apartment, which flooded when it rained and had an AC that only worked half the time.

Was it too good to be true? Maybe. Or maybe it was the sign he needed to turn his life around, leave the diapers behind, and become a real man by contributing to the economy.

He clicked the link to apply and checked back a few hours later. Justin gulped; he had an interview on Monday.

————————————————————————

As Always, All Characters depicted are 18+

Credit to babyspooks for image (couldn’t find their socials)

Language is everything in this kink.

“I have to use the bathroom. May I please go?”

“What do you have to do?”

“I have to pee!”

“But you’re not allowed to use the bathroom. Where do you need to pee?”

“In… my pants.”

“Nope. You’re not wearing pants. Try again.”

“…in my diaper.”

“Good boy. Try asking again.”

“May I please pee in my diaper?”

August is here and you think the unexpected new "tradition" of Sissy Summer that the grownups sprung on you 3 long months ago is nearly over. You're looking forward to so many things - wearing pants again, waving hello instead of curtsying, watching Barney instead of Barbie, playing with your teddy bears instead of those stupid dolls and the last of your dreaded ballet classes with that old battle-axe, Miss Thorne - to name just a few of the countless embarrassments you've endured as the adult's pathetic, pink, padded plaything who's been perpetually paraded in public every single day since this whole humiliating ordeal began.

You tried to hold yourself, you tried not to give Daddy the satisfaction. It took weeks, not months like Daddy predicted, and finally he enjoyed watching you from work, using his online baby camera.

He said it would eventually happen, he said you’re going to love your diapers so much that you’ll use them to their fullest, even for your sexual satisfaction. He trapped you in your diapers, he forced them on you, you were obliged to wear them. But you didn’t have to go all the way in them, eventually, you wanted to.

You were denied any sexual interaction. Not only with Daddy, but even with yourself. You weren’t allowed to reach the inside of your diaper, and Daddy was the only one allowed to touch your tiny penis during diaper changes. Even when you had a stiffy while Daddy cleaned you, he ignored it because it wasn’t worth lingering on for even a minute. Sometimes that feeling messed so much with your mental state, you began to tear and sob behind your pacifier, as you oozed clear precum that Daddy just wiped off.

And now, after weeks of regression and reprogramming you to be the baby that you are, Daddy is watching his baby boy finally understand his new place in the world. A baby who is obeying his Daddy's rules and using his diapers to the fullest, as a good boy should. Not a man, a baby.

While you hump your diaper at home, finally giving your body the attention that it needs, Daddy closed his office door and told his secretary not to let anybody in because he’s busy. He sat down in front of his widescreen and reached for his big cock.

That is what he wanted, one of the perks of having you. Enjoying himself while watching his baby boy enjoy being himself, even from work.

-----------------------

"Have you heard the legend about the guy who never forgave his best friend for telling the whole school about how he "cried like a baby" when they watched The Lion King together? How the story stuck and people were still calling him "cry baby" right up until college graduation?

How his juvenile plot for revenge became more detailed and extreme with each passing year? How he seduced his buddy's widowed mother, gradually took control of his life and trapped him in a world of bonnets, bibs, baby food and a ceaseless succession of dirty diapers with a chastity cage and padded fist-mittens locked on 24/7?

How he now relishes in spending all his free time (and every dollar of his former friend's inheritance) proudly proving to the whole world just who's the REAL big baby. How he mockingly takes on the guise of a doting daddy, fussing and cooing at full volume while changing his cringing, crinkly captive's pee-soaked Pampers in the most public and humiliating situations he can come up with? How he was somehow granted full power of attorney over his unwilling, waddling ward and gleefully changed his legal name to Cry Baby - a title which he most certainly lived up to when he heard the unwelcome news?

Come to think of it, I guess you wouldn't have heard that legend. It's mostly told at bars and restaurants that Mommy and Daddy visit after you've been tucked into your crib by the babysitter at 7pm, helplessly flooding your Huggies in your sleep while unconsciously snuggling with the giant stuffed Simba that you're required to keep with you at all times.

physically

emotionally

aesthetically

practically

romantically

sexually

Embrace your diaper cravings.

Embrace your diaper needs.

Embrace your diaper love.

"Why are you cowering over there by the garden, my little lamb? Come over here and join all the other sissies in their enclosed backyard playpen. I've unlocked the gate especially for you!

I know this is all very new - being my latest acquisition and all - but there's no need to be scared, they won't bite... sure, some of them will want to cuddle, and the two boys that attempted to escape last week will drool a bit from their doubled daily dose of sedatives, they'll all furiously hump their swollen diapers against yours in a futile attempt at feeling anything through their chastity cages, but biting is a very big no-no in this house! After everything you've been through in the last week of one-on-one initiation training, I think you know very well that my rules are not to be broken - so you see, there's nothing to worry about!

The tech team says we've had a big uptick in subscribers and a lot of activity on the livestream today after we released some teaser footage from your extremely eventful training week to announce the introduction of a new inmate in the "Pamper Prison", as the orderlies like to call it. So, I want to see you waddling into that playpen by the count of three, or you won't be sitting comfortably anytime soon. 1...2...

Awww, what a good lil' princess! I'm so glad you 'decided' to join them."

Its been a quarter of an hour since you encouraged me to crawl between your open legs.

I was busy reconciling a clients annual financial position, you had a little time to kill.

You're in control. You're always in control. I'm on my knees, you've gripped my hair, clamped my face between your thighs and given me firm instruction throughout.

The sole focus - my tongue and your pussy.

You'd usually insist on more than the two orgasms you've already enjoyed but time's pressing and you need to get ready.

You take my hand in yours and lead me to the spare room. You lay me on the single bed, the one with the duvet cover adorned with cars and trains in primary colours. I understand I won't be sharing our double bed tonight.

Laying me down you gently undress me. Shoes first, then trousers and underwear. I'm erect and my pants are wet. I've been like that for the last fifteen minutes. I'm shy and embarrassed. With quiet reassurance you tell me its ok.

I lift my head to help you remove my jumper, then tshirt, then it's my my socks.

I'm naked.

You're still fully dressed, save for your knickers which you took off before you positioned my face between your legs.

I'm embarrassed.

You gently spread my legs, exposing me further. I resist. You push firmly but gently, asserting your reassuring control, then crawl between my open legs.

Reaching above me you pull the strap from under the pillow and attach it to my wrists. You want my hands out the way. It's just easier when I can't wriggle around.

I see compassion in the way you look at me, I'm searching for reassurance, validation even. You hold my gaze as you carefully grip my cock and lower yourself on to it. We are in the Lady Boy Position - woman on top between the man's legs. Its like the traditional missionary position but reversed. We always do it this way.

I moan with the initial penetration. You read my pleasure as pain and reassure me, gently shushing me, your hand on my heart.

I wrap my legs around your body as you start to rise and fall, my cock slipping in and out of you. You look at me, smiling, nodding your head in encouragement. You watch my enjoyment build and my worries slip away as I fall into the moment.

You know I won't last long, I never do. As you build the pace, you can see I'm getting close already.

Smiling, you at look me, holding my gaze. Then in a quiet voice you say,

"Tell me when you're gonna cum, baby."

You pick up the pace a little more as I start to shake my head, it's too soon, I want more but I already know it's too late. You nod your head in approval, silently encouraging me.

"I'm gonna cum!" I  blurt out, my back arching, my body tensing in anticipation.

"Just let it happen baby, it's ok, don"t fight it."

The reasuring encouragement in your voice makes my heart swell with joy. I clamp my legs around you, holding on tightly as I approach my crescendo.

You hold my gaze intently, silently encouraging me. It's here, all too soon. My orgasm crashes over me and I helplessly pump my little load inside you.

As I release my breath, the intensity melting away, you tell me I'm a good boy. You reassure me. You stroke my face and smile at me compassionately. You're proud of me.

You stay between my splayed legs gently stroking my face, whispering sweet nothings and telling me what a clever boy I am.

I'm soft by the time you climb off me but your hand lingers, running down my body keeping reassuring contact as you step away.

Reaching into the bag next to the bed, you pull out the disposable nappy and slip it between my legs. With an efficient wipe and a puff of powder, you flap up the front, patting me and talking sweetly as you fasten both tapes. Its thick. I guessed it would be.

You turn me on my side, pushing my teddy under my arm and the dummy between my lips. There's a pause, then I feel the weight of a soft blanket envelope me.

Stroking my hair and shushing me gently you encourage me towards sleep. My eyes close and my mind wanders, my dummy bobs absently in my mouth. The last thing I hear is your quiet whisper,

"Sleep tight my baby boy. I'll be back later."

You go into another room and get changed. You're off out tonight to see your lover. You'll probably bring him home with you. He's tall handsome and accomplished in bed. I know where you're going, you've never held it from me. But I know where my place is.

At home, in my nappy.

Language is everything in this kink.

“I have to use the bathroom. May I please go?”

“What do you have to do?”

“I have to pee!”

“But you’re not allowed to use the bathroom. Where do you need to pee?”

“In… my pants.”

“Nope. You’re not wearing pants. Try again.”

“…in my diaper.”

“Good boy. Try asking again.”

“May I please pee in my diaper?”