#poopy butt

Mommy, you said if I made a #2 in my diaper that I could pick out any toy I wanted at the store. I did it 😓... so do I get a toy?!?!!

"Yes, sweetheart. You did a good job going poopies in your diaper. Now go put your shoes on. We're running late"

Wait... aren't you going to change me first?! Look at this bulge, mommy. My diaper is so full in the back.

"I told you we had 20 minutes before we had to go... baby, you took far too long and now we're going to have to go straight to the birthday party after.

BUT MOM! I can't go like this! Everyone will know I'm wearing a poopy diaper.

That being SAID, I’ve been living for fics about Luca Haas, and man, I just love the idea that he’s like so locked in on like queer culture, like he's just one of the girls most of the time. Like, trust, he’s this big, hockey player, and he loves hockey DOWN, but like, he comes from a big family of all girls. these girls made him tough trust but they also made him nor afraid to express himself creatively. This mentality got him socially into a lot of predominately female/queer spaces. He got teased about it in the locker room ofc but he never let it bother him. The highlight of his day after a practice good or bad is calling his friends and talking crazy shit about the guys who give him even a little bit of shit.

He’s so shy in most of the media I read about him, and I love to think that it’s bc 1 he’s new, and he’s scared. He’s intimidated bc of Ilya but also bc he feels other in male-dominated spaces, especially if he’s reading the vibe of the team, which can appear to be these macho dudes.

Okay, I admit it. I like pooping my diapers and sharing it here for people to see. It's humiliating that I've spent over a week choosing to use diapers over my perfectly functioning bathroom as a grown adult, and I don't want to stop.

Every chance I get, I run to my diaper bag, put one on and use it. Then I come here and post it like I haven't just done the craziest thing.

Emma's Regression

Emma was twenty years old but had always been small, soft-spoken, and a bit behind everyone else. She still lived with her mother, Claire. Today they were at the large shopping mall, something Emma usually enjoyed but found overwhelming when it got too crowded.

She was wearing her favorite pair of light-wash denim shorts with little white bows on the front pockets. They were cute and snug, showing off her soft thighs. Underneath she wore simple white panties with tiny hearts.

After walking around for a couple of hours, Emma started shifting uncomfortably. A heavy pressure was building in her tummy.

“Mom… I really need the bathroom,” she said quietly, cheeks already warming.

Claire nodded. “Alright, let’s head back. You should have said something sooner, Emma.”

They turned around, but the mall was busy and the nearest restrooms were on the other side of the food court. Emma tried to walk normally, but the urge grew stronger fast. She was squeezing her legs together when a sudden, sharp cramp hit her.

She froze right in the middle of the wide walkway.

It was too late.

A warm, mushy load pushed out into her panties, filling the seat heavily. At the same time, she lost control of her bladder and a long spurt of pee soaked through her panties and into the crotch of her denim shorts. A small puddle formed around her sneakers.

Emma stood completely still, face burning bright red. The back of her shorts now sagged noticeably with the heavy mess, and dark wet patches were visible on the insides of both thighs.

Claire turned around and immediately noticed. She stepped close and placed a hand on Emma’s shoulder. Without hesitation, she turned her daughter slightly and tugged out the waistband of the denim shorts at the back, peering inside. The smell hit her right away.

“Oh, Emma… you pooped your pants,” Claire said, low but firm enough that a couple of nearby shoppers glanced over. “And you wet yourself too.”

Emma’s eyes filled with tears. She stood there mortified, the warm, squishy mess shifting every time she moved even a little. “I’m sorry…” she whispered, voice trembling.

Claire sighed, but her tone stayed gentle. “Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

She took Emma’s hand and led her through the mall toward the family restroom. The heavy load in Emma’s shorts squished and bulged with every step, the wet spots on her thighs still visible. A few people stared, but Claire kept walking steadily, holding her daughter’s hand the whole way.

Once inside the restroom, Claire locked the door. She helped Emma out of her soiled denim shorts and ruined panties, then began cleaning her thoroughly with baby wipes from the changing station. Emma stood there sniffling, face still flushed with humiliation as her mother wiped away every trace of the accident.

When she was clean and dry, Claire reached into one of their shopping bags and pulled out a pair of soft black leggings they had bought earlier that day. She helped Emma step into them with nothing underneath. The thin fabric clung snugly to her skin, making the lack of panties very obvious.

Claire adjusted the leggings and gave Emma’s padded bottom a gentle pat.

“This is the second accident this month, Emma,” she said seriously. “If this keeps happening, we’re going to have to do something about it. I’m not above putting you back in Pull-Ups… or even diapers if you can’t keep clean. Do you understand?”

Emma nodded quickly, cheeks burning at the warning. She felt tiny standing there in just the thin leggings.