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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!

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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! 💖💋)

"Guuugghhhhhh… Whhuuuuuhhhh… Muuhh-muuhhh…"

What were these sounds coming out of her mouth? How on earth could she be doing this… and in front of hundreds of random people on the internet? What was she even doing… or thinking?

Assuming she even was thinking?

Her hand slipped rhythmically back and forth, up and down, pausing and then in its fitful stroking at the thickened bulk between her legs. Yes, she was wearing a diaper: an oversized, bulky, undeniably thick and infantile diaper. Beneath a pair of tights it might be, sure – but sheer as they were, there was zero doubt about exactly what sort of mortifyingly babyish underwear she was wearing… and in full view of everyone.

But of course. Of course her diaper was on display. No sense in hiding the very garment that was the main attraction, right?

The fingers of her right hand clenched around the little baby bottle, its familiar warmth pulling her back into the hazy memories of the many previous times she'd held it like this. Sure, there'd been a time when she'd winced and grimaced in disgust at the idea of posing with such a babyish accessory – let alone drinking from it.

And yet… it was so useful. Its contents were so delicious. And when, in full view of the camera, she slipped it between her rosy lips… when she suckled and was rewarded, gulp after pulsing gulp, with the creamy, mind-soothing formula within… well, it no longer mattered just how babyish it might be. It tasted heavenly, and the viewers went absolutely wild over it. Besides, the longer she suckled and stared over the pastel plastic into the swirling depths of her special trance video, the more fuzzy and happy and stupefied she began to feel…

She'd grown to love that sensation: the feeling that even now she felt approaching like a familiar friend. The sensation of being limp as a warm dishrag… safe as a dreaming kitten… wrapped securely in warm happiness and the unspoken conviction that all was right in her dream-shrouded world…

Yeah, her ba-ba was probably hella medicated. But that wasn't really a problem, was it? The streaming platform she worked for provided all the formula she could drink, gratis. And if she was ever tempted to worry about things too much… well, there was always that custom-made trance video to take her mind off things, and to remind her that any trips she was taking were also fueled, at least in part, by its mind-bendingly shimmering swirls.

Was she hypnotized? Was she tripping? Or maybe both, simultaneously?

She didn't know… but neither did she really even care anymore.

Sure, she sometimes felt her adult brain kicking back – as it had been just now. She was embarrassing herself, it would scream. This wasn't normal. No sane person would ever dress up like a literal baby and whore herself out, playing on camera for hundreds of presumably horny strangers. She had to stop – take control – end her contract and with it this massive, horrifying nightmare of a mistake…

But fortunately those moment were becoming less and less frequent as time trickled by.

"Bbhhuuuhhhh… Gguuhh- gguuhh…" she babbled, no longer aware of the muscles within her throat that were producing such sounds. They were simply happening: emerging from the world around her, the soundtrack of her own mindless regression. Her eyes shifted, threatened to focus…

…and then went blank once more.

Into the screen she stared now, limp and calm. Her hand, which had paused in momentary confusion, lapsed back into its rhythmic ministrations. In the quiet room, nothing now could be heard but the steady, soft ssshhhhh of her hand over her babyish white tights… and crinkle of the bulky diaper beneath… and now and again, amid the pulse of her heavy breathing, the little burbling moans of longing and pleasure from her wordless lips…

In other words, the perfect soundtrack to titillate her ever-devoted fans.

Image Credit: @abdreams

Want more steamy prose? We're no longer on Patreon (sad), but Ream is up and full of diaper-y goodness!

"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."

🍼✨ Just Sissy Mommy Things! 💖🩰👯‍♀️🎀

OMG, okay, so, MAJOR life update!!! 🚨💋 my life is so hectic right now, you guys have no idea! 😭🤪😩 Like, between the hormone therapy 💉💊, hypnosis maintenance sessions 🌀✨, and managing two literally exhausting sissy babies 🎀, your girl is working even more overtime than she did back in CoRpOrAtE wOrLd (blegh! 🤢💼). But honestly? I’m actually ~*thriving*~. 💅

Sooooo, say hello to Bunny and Lulu’s new Mommy! 🌸 Yes bittchess 🤭, Victor is ooofficially dead and buried ⚰️😇, and Victoria is in the house! 🏠💃 (Or, well, in the ballet studio waiting room 🩰🎭, which is baaasically my entire life now, am I right fellow sissy ballet mommies?! 👯‍♀️💕).

But ugh, let’s be real for a second—being a mom is so hard. 😤 Especially when your "babies" are actually two grown-ass former men who used to be your sons. 👨‍👦‍👦➡️👩‍👧‍👧 As all my followers know by now, Bradley and Luke are long gone 👋, and now I have Bunny and Lulu! They cry constantly (literally, look at their faces, they are such drama queens, hubby always says they get it from me 😭). But good thing Mommy knows exactly how to quiet them down. 🍼🤫

Okurr, I'll spell it out: these new tatas (ty hubbster!!) aren't just for show. 🍈🍈✨ Nursing time is just about the only way for Mommy Vicky to keep these two quiet when they start throwing a tantrum in public. 😤🤱➡️😴💤

Hubby, hubbster, Daddy—I keep mentioning him, and that's because he's a ~dreamboat~! 💘😍 Ever since he bought out our contracts from Samantha (bee-tee dubs I am, like, so grateful for her starting me on this journey 🙏🌈), I've learned alllll about what it means to have strong, real man taking care of everything. 💪🧔 Daddy actually builds things for a living, swooon! 👷‍♂️🛠️🫦 He spends all day in the hot sun, bossing around his construction crew and busting ass. 🗣️🔨 And when he gets home all sweaty at the end of the day, he still has more than enough energy to boss me around 😉—and yass girlies, you better believe he’s an expert at busting my ass! 😅🛏️🔥🤪

Like, I say two words, and his body just obeys. No warning, no hesitation.

Just soaking whatever he’s wearing. It started as a joke during a scene. Whenever I let him pee, I’d whisper “go drip” while stroking his hair, praising him like a good boy. Didn’t even think much of it. Just something soft. A little degrading.

Except it worked.

Last time I used it, he broke. Full-body shaking, begging, crying while he pissed down his thighs and said thank you.

And the best part?