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This story is set in the Your Change of Plans universe. So read that first. Or don’t. Either way.

I’ll be honest. When Claire’s parents first told me they were sending her to the Little’s Program™️, I tried my best to stop them.

In my defense, Claire was beautiful and who wants to date a girl in diapers?

I mean, sure, she was stuck-up, shallow, and superficial. And yeah, she thought she was the Queen Bee wearing designer clothes and ruthlessly controlling our friend group.

She was a mean girl. Think Regina George. That kind of girl.

Sweet, strong, soft man in a diaper.

He was kinda new to it, still seeing if he liked it, still learning how to relax when he wasn’t near the potty.

We were lying in bed, doing our own things, as I let him adjust to the feeling of padding swaddled around his most private parts.

Not treating him differently.

Not yet.

The only thing out of the ordinary was me reading with one hand (not entirely out of the ordinary, I’m a frequent smut enjoyer, but this was different). My other rested on top of his padding, right between his legs.

Eventually, a couple chapters in, I felt something.

“Hey, handsome, what’s making my hand all warm?”

I looked up at him for the first time and the ruddy blush covering his face answered my question without him needing to say anything.

I wanted him to say it anyway.

“Can you tell me what happened, honey boy?”

A small head shake, no. His eyes were big and a little nervous, not used to someone watching him be this vulnerable.

“That’s okay, we can work up to big boy words later. It seems like you’re pretty small right now, huh?”

This time I watched his head bob up and down. I reached up and ruffled his hair, resting my hand on the back of his neck.

“Do you think you’re okay to stay your cozy, warm big boy diaper for a while longer? I want to finish a couple more chapters before we go to sleep.”

He nodded, shifting his body down under the covers a little more, pressing his face against my tummy.

Look at you...

Look at what you now have,

Look at what you've become,

But really, look at who you've always been.

I've seen you before... well, many times actually. You had always been kinda shy in getting to know new people, and me as the new neighbor guy down the street was certainly no exception. You stumbled on your words when I came to your doorstep to say hello, and gave me a look that I knew was the cry for help you desperately needed. That was all it took, just that look to make a new daddy go insane.

A few dates, leading you on, thinking you'd actually get with me was really all it took. Thinking of me as your partner, thinking of me as your boyfriend. Fun really, but I couldn't lead you on forever. It certainly wouldn't be fair to give you the insanity of thinking you were anything but who you are under the pants.

You, a shamed diaper boy... trying your best to get with me, really?

You’re back in diapers for good now. There’s no going back, no pretending you’re anything more than what you are: a baby, a little, a boy whose only purpose is to fill his thick, crinkly diapers and let Mommy take care of the rest. And that includes it... that useless little thing between your legs.

It doesn’t matter how big or small it was before. It doesn’t matter how you used to think about it, stroke it, or fantasize about what it could do. None of that matters anymore. Because now? Now it’s just there, a vestigial reminder of a life you no longer lead. A life where you thought you had control, where you thought you had a say. But Mommy knows better. And so do you, deep down.

The only time anyone will see it, touch it, or even acknowledge its existence is during changes. Those brief, clinical moments when Mommy peels back the tapes, wipes away the mess, and cleans the filth from your useless little penis before taping you back up. She doesn’t linger. She doesn’t admire. She doesn’t even react. It’s just another part of the routine, like powdering your bottom or taping the fresh diaper into place. And why would she? It’s not for her. It’s not for anyone.

You used to think about her, the way she’d look at you, the way she’d touch you, the way she’d want you. But those thoughts are fading now, replaced by the crinkle of plastic and the warmth of padding. Because Mommy doesn’t want anything from your penis. And neither should you. The sooner you accept that, the happier you’ll be.

And then there’s him. The one Mommy does want. The one she does touch, the one she does admire. You’ve seen the way she looks at him, the way her fingers trail down his chest, the way she lets out that little sigh when he’s near. He’s everything you’re not, strong, capable, useful. And you? You’re just the baby in the corner, watching, waiting, knowing your place.

Sometimes, when Mommy’s with him, you’ll catch a glimpse of his hands on her, his lips on hers, and you’ll feel a twinge of something,jealousy? Longing? But it’s not for her. Not really. It’s for his confidence, his purpose, the way he fills a room just by walking into it. And then you’ll remember: you don’t need that. You don’t want that. Because Mommy gives you something better. She gives you safety, warmth, the comfort of knowing you’ll never have to be anything more than her little baby.

Your penis twitches sometimes, betraying you, as if it hasn’t gotten the memo. But Mommy just laughs, patting your diaper with a smirk. “Oh, baby,” she’ll coo, “did you think that was going to do something?” She’ll press her palm against the thick padding, and you’ll feel the uselessness of it all, the way the diaper swallows every sensation, every twitch, every pathetic attempt at relevance. “It’s not for you, sweetheart. It’s not for anyone.”

And she’s right. Because the only thing your penis is good for now is making messes. And Mommy loves cleaning up your messes. She’ll change you with a smile, humming softly as she wipes you down, as if she’s doing the most natural thing in the world. And maybe she is. Maybe this is the most natural thing in the world, for you to be small, soft, and useless, and for her to be the one in control.

So accept it. Let go of the fantasies, the ego, the idea that you were ever meant for more. Your penis is just another part of you that Mommy takes care of. And if that makes you feel small? Good. If that makes you feel insignificant? Even better. Because that’s exactly what you are. And that’s exactly where you belong.

"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.

Sequel to this caption!

————————————

It’s been 3 weeks since mommy took control. Now, every step you take is a reminder of her dominance over you. Every crinkle, every squish, every inch of padding between you legs constantly regresses you, humiliates and embarrasses you. With a diaper between your legs, you can’t help but be submissive, but that hasn’t stopped you from holding onto your bladder control for dear life.

“Come on baby boy! Time to head home. Yes, I know, finally. You’ve been such a good boy keeping your pampers dry! If you can keep them dry the whole way home, I’ll make sure you get rewarded.”

You started to tremble. Every ounce of your body was focused on keeping your pee under control, but given your pattern of behaviour lately, you were seriously doubting your ability to keep the padding in your pants dry. When Mommy first made you piss your pants, it was as if something unlocked in you. You were never a bold, dominant male with terribly great bladder control. And, if you’re being honest with yourself, you’ve never been well-endowed either. That was most of the reason you were hesitant to sleep with mommy.

Ever since that first accident though, ever since mommy took over, things have been...changing. All of a sudden, your bladder was more temperamental, meaning more accidents, shorter hold times, less time between feeling the need and losing control. Your already disappointing cock started looking smaller and smaller, to the point where you weren’t sure if you were soft at 1 inch...or hard. And the worse of all, the most humiliating, most embarrassing part, was your sexual stamina.

Mommy never actually let you fuck her after that day. She would, however, rub the front of your pants and use the friction of your diaper against your cock to make you orgasm. But as the days went by, the diapers got thicker and your cock got smaller, you started cumming faster and faster to her rubbing. First it was 2 minutes, then 1 minute, then 30 seconds, 10 seconds, and now, something you haven’t shown her yet...

“Alright my baby, let’s get that diapered butt home hey? Tell you what. You’ve been such a good boy that even if you can’t make it home in a dry diaper, I think I’ll still give you some fun time. How’s that sound hm?”

Hisssssssssss

As if your bladder took that as an excuse, it released. Your tiny cock started spurting out hot piss into your diaper uncontrollably, and every attempt to clench your cock seemed futile. After all, there wasn’t much there to stop the flow. Before long, you were sitting in the passanger seat in a warm, wet, and thick adult diaper.

Mommy knew of course, and a smile grew across her lips.

After a drawn out and insufferable diaper change, where mommy couldn’t help herself but make comments like “such a wet diaper! Aren’t you glad mommy has you protected”, “Think about how wet your pants would be. Or my car! Oh how humiliating.”, “awe look at your little dicky. He’s trying to stand up! Don’t worry little guy, you’ll get lots of attention soon...”, you hid your face in shame.

Now started the ritual of play. Mommy took off her shorts and revealed to you her skimpy little panties that practically disappeared between her thick thighs. You bit your lip and started to feel the tremble. It was already beginning.

“Such a good little diaper boy, aren’t you? You like when mommy changes your diaper? Or do you like when mommy shows you her ass. Hehe, your tiny cock is trying to pitch a tent in you pampers little man, how cute. It wants me to touch it so bad, to stroke it, to rub the front of your diaper until-“

spurt, spurt, spurt, spurt

You came furiously in your diaper. Mommy stopped talking, stunned. She didn’t even have to touch you, all she had to do was show you a little ass, and talk. After a long silence, and once your breathing settled from your intense orgasm, she started laughing.

"Mm, sounds like Jakey certainly had a better time than she would have as the groom, back when she was Jacob. And let’s be real, don’t kids have some of the most fun at weddings? The catered food can be so stuffy and dry. I sometimes wish I could just have the chicken tenders and fries from the kids’ menu!"

"Right? Honestly, the chicken cordon bleu we had was fine, but I'm with you—I'd have killed for some tendies and tots!"

"Although... Well, in Jakey's case, it was a little different! Her Daddy was very firm that she wasn't quite “ready for solids” yet. Her Mommy told me they were thinking of slowly introducing baby food at some point in the future but—anyway, you get it. No chicken tenders for our little flower girl. Just warm formula, one every three hours, like clockwork.”

“Oh here, look, this was taken in the bridal suite while we were all getting ready. My Aunt Carol just fell in love with her—I mean, who wouldn't, with that little dress and those chubby cheeks? Jakey was getting so fussy, whining and complaining even though her diaper had just been changed. Which of course means: hangry baby alert! Carol insisted on giving Jakey her late morning bottle herself. She plopped right down in that chair, sat Jakey on her lap, put on that adorable bib Jakey’s Mommy had packed—yeah, custom-embroidered, oh my god, so spoiled— and popped the nipple right in past those babbling lips."

"Look at her cute little pout—trying so hard to look annoyed, like 'Ugh, this is so embarrassing! I’m a man, not a baby, I was upposed to be da gwoom, waa waa!'. But let me tell you: she sucked down the whole thing like a champ while the rest of us finished our makeup. I couldn’t help but think what Jacob would have been doing at that time—probably sneaking flasks of whiskey, getting drunk before the ceremony."

“Well, looks like he still managed to get drunk—milk-drunk!”

🏈💙 Gameday with Daddy’s Little Tailgaters! 🍼😤🚙✨

It's game day, girlies!!! 💙💛 Let's goooo Comets! 🏟️☄️ Sooo, as you all know, Sunday is ~*Daddy's day*~. 🗓️👑 And Daddy's day means football day! 🏈 I swear, I am like, the ultimate football wife now. 💍💅 But ughh, some people in this family are just such babies about it. 🙄🙄🙄 Can you guess who? Look at these two sulking in their car seats! 😠😒 They're so dramatic, I literally can't. 😩🤦‍♀️

A little backstory for the new followers (hiiiieee! 👋): back when we all had our old boy lives (sooo cringe to even think about, yuck! 🤢), we were fans of the Comets' main rivals ⚔️, the Planets. 🪐🤮 Like, ya, can you even imagine? Cheering for the wrong team? As if! 😒 💀

Bunny 🐰 and Lulu 🌷 kept whining when I was changing them before we left about "betrayal" or whatever, like they usually do on game days. 🙄😭 It's like… okay, and? Did Mommy ask? Noooope. 🤫 And just a quick check, sweeties: who pays for your cute little tutus and ballet lessons? 🩰💸 Who pays to keep you padded 24/7 in sissy pamps, and for the princess crib canopies over your heads at night? 🎀🧷🍼 Yes, that would be DADDY. 💪👨‍🔧 And in this family, we root for Daddy’s team. Periodt. 💅✨

Of course, once their pacifiers (aren’t they the cutest?? Comment “Comets” down below for a promo code to use at the Comets Nation sissy merch store! 🛍️💙💛) are plugged in 🌀💦, it’s mute city, population: two sissy babies. 🔇 Wellll okay, pretty much muted:

"Mmmph we hmmph the Commmphs!" 😭🍼💙

"Mmmph is sooo hmmmph-iliating!" 😫 *suck-suck-suck* 💦👄

Like, sorry, I don't speak sissy baby babble! 🗣️❌ Maybe they need a change when we get to the stadium? 🏟️🧷 Ya, that’s probably it… 💩

And like, helloooo, look in the rear-view mirror much? 🪞🚗 You're wearing diapers and sitting in booster seats. 🧷💺 I don't think your "opinion" on sports rivalries is exactly a top priority anymore, sweeties. 😂 It's honestlyy all fine though: their silly little opinions don’t need to match Daddy’s when their outfits already do! 💙👯‍♀️✨

Now as for Mommy Vicky, well, Daddy expects a lot more active enthusiasm from me. 📣 🙌 I don’t get a paci to shut me up (unless we’re behind closed doors🚪and Daddy’s in one of his kinky moods, hehe, #TMI 🤫🙈🔞)! 😅 So ya, y’all better believe I’ll be in the stands, looking snatched in my cropped jersey, ready to cheer my tatas off for Daddy's team! 🤸‍♀️🍈🍈 I’ll be clapping, celebrating every touchdown, and eagerly listening to Daddy explain to me what a first down is for the fiftieth time. 👏🏈🤯

And tbh… The old team rivalry thing is not a big deal for me, at all. 🤔🤷‍♀️ Like, I've already changed my name, my pronouns, my whole body, my wardrobe, my sexuality... all to make Mr. Hubby happy! 😇👗💖 Is cheering for his favorite football team really such a big deal? No! 🙅‍♀️ I am more than happy to scream my little lungs out for the Comets if it makes Daddy smile. 🥰 It's called being a supportive wifey, look it up. 💁‍♀️💅💍 Now if you'll excuse me, Mommy needs to go practice her touchdown cheer. Goooo Comets! 📣☄️💛💙

(Also, pray for me, because trying to nurse two giant sissy babies in the stadium bathroom is going to be an absolute nightmare… 😩🍼🚻 Wish me luck, girlies! 💖💋)