Lydia walked down the street holding her Mum’s hand, trying to ignore the pointing and laughing from passers-by. Her twenty-one year old body was crammed into a too-tight Hello Kitty top, a modest white skirt, and matching tights. Her black buckled shoes clacked loudly as they hit the pavement, drawing even more eyes in her direction. To complete the look, her blonde hair had been done up in a pair of childish pigtails.
She could feel herself blushing furiously. Her regression sentence mandated that she dress as if she were no more than four years old, and her Mum had embraced the court’s decision enthusiastically, picking her new outfit from the complementary wardrobe straight away so she had something to walk home in.
A group of girls fell about laughing as they passed. “Awww!” one of them cooed, mockingly. “What a cute toddler!”
“Isn’t she adowable?” another teased in baby talk.
A third made kissy faces at her, eyes glinting sadistically.
Lydia scowled and gripped her Mum’s hand more tightly, but her mother just tittered. “You’d better get used to being treated like that, sweetie,” she said, as they walked on past the girls. “Until the end of your regression sentence, you’re just a silly little girl. I know it’s embarrassing, but hopefully it will teach you not to deal drugs!”
Lydia looked down at the ground, gritting her teeth. She hated everything about this. She’d only wanted a little extra money to help pay for nights out at university! But there were no college parties in her future now. Even if she hadn’t been kicked out, there was no way her Mum would let her do something as grown-up as go out drinking, not now she had full authority over her again. For the next three years, in the eyes of the law she was nothing but a helpless child. There was only one silver lining – the white cotton undies that hugged her bottom under her skirt.
When the judge had told her she was forbidden to use the toilet for pee, and was to poo in it only, Lydia had felt like she was going to be sick. It was bad enough having her toileting habits discussed out loud for the whole courtroom to hear, but the thought of having to spend the next three years of her life wearing oversized Pampers, filling them with pee multiple times a day, taking them off only to go number two before having them strapped right back onto her bum, was enough to turn her stomach. If her Mum hadn’t whispered in her ear that she wouldn’t be making her wear nappies, Lydia thought she would have fainted in front of the judge. She supposed she ought to be grateful to her mother for that, even though it was suspiciously out of character… She wouldn’t have expected her Mum to go against the law, even though there was hardly any chance of being caught.
Finally, they made it home. Lydia was relieved to be out of the public spotlight, and more urgently, she needed to pee. She’d needed to go all morning, but she knew the staff at the courtroom would have just offered her a diaper if she’d asked for the bathroom there. She tried to make a bee-line for the toilet, but her mothed pulled her back, her grip tightening.
“Where are you off to, sweetie?”
“The toilet,” Lydia replied, trying to pull away again. “I need to pee.”
“Silly girl!” her Mum laughed. “The judge said you’re not allowed to use the toilet for pee-pee, remember?”
“B-but…” Lydia spluttered. She felt like she’d been kicked in the stomach. “But you said I wouldn’t have to wear nappies!”
“That’s right, sweetie,” her Mum nodded. “No nappies for my little girl. The judge didn’t say you had to wear them, after all. He just said you’re not allowed to use the potty when you need a wee.”
“But that doesn’t make any sense!” Lydia said, huffing with frustration. “What do you expect me to do? Am I supposed to just pee my pants whenever I need to go or somethi-”
“That’s right, baby!” her Mum interrupted, smiling brightly. “Clever girl!”
Lydia stared at her mother with mounting horror. Was her Mum really suggesting she spend the next three years wetting her knickers without any protection? “But… but I can’t just…” She didn’t even know what to say. How could her Mum not see how insane this was?! “I’ll make a mess everywhere!”
“Uh-hu,” her Mum agreed, nodding, “but that’s okay. You were always making puddles for Mummy to clean up when you were little, and it’ll be no different this time.” She looked positively thrilled by the idea. “I’ll have to get used to washing your wet pants again!” she added, beaming. “Not to mention ironing your tights and skirts. Oh, and hanging your sheets out to dry after you wet the bed!”
Lydia was looking at her mother like she’d lost her mind. This was worse than being in nappies! There was a determined, almost hungry expression in her Mum’s eyes. She was clearly delighted by the prospect of having a twenty-one-year-old pantswetter for a daughter. Her wayward little girl back home, dependent on her Mummy once again.
“But I have to pee like four times a day!” Lydia whined, trying to get her mother to understand how awful it would be, how often she’d need to be cleaned up.
“Then you’ll wet your pants four times a day, little missy,” her Mum said, simply.
“Mum, please…” Lydia begged. She was clutching between her legs with her free hand. The need to pee was growing stronger by the second, but the thought of just letting go in her pants was disgusting.
“Mummy said no, sweetie,” said her mother, sounding a little more stern. “No more toilets for you, young lady.”
“Please just… just let me wear nappies then!” Lydia cried, her face scarlet. She was bouncing from foot to foot now, doing an absurd potty dance. “I’d rather wear nappies if the alternative is peeing all over myself! At least it’s more private!”
“I’ve made up my mind, baby,” her Mum said firmly. “As much as I’m sure nappies would fix your behaviour, I think being a big girl who always wets her knickers will put you in your place even better!”
“No!” Lydia squealed, and then she let out a gasp. Her potty dance stopped abruptly, and she pulled her hand away as a dark, wet patch blossomed on the front of her skirt. A stream of pee trickled down between her legs, puddling on the floor between her feet. More pee ran down her legs, soaking her tights and pooling into her shoes. “Ewww!” Lydia cried, tears spilling from her eyes as she soaked her white cotton undies. “Ew! Ew! Ew!”
Her Mum was watching with a wide smile. “Mummy’s little pantswetter,” she declared affectionately, stroking her daughter’s hair. “Did you have an accident, sweetie? Do you need Mummy to clean you up?”
Lydia burst into tears and nodded her head.
“There, there, baby girl,” her Mum cooed. “Don’t you worry about a thing, okay? It was just a little accident. Mummy will take care of everything.” She began to strip away Lydia’s wet clothes, in a routine they would be repeating multiple times a day for the next three years at least – and perhaps, if Lydia’s bladder control had weakened enough by the time the end of her sentence came around, for many more years beyond.
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it had been 3 weeks since michael's humilating accident, resulting in his older brother joseph taking away his underwear, leaving him with nothing but pull-ups.
"it's for your own good," joseph had said. "if you can't hold it, you need protection."
since then, joseph had mostly left michael alone. michael, being home from college for the summer, spent a lot of time at his family home. his brother and parents all worked during the day, giving him lots of time to himself.
today was a particularly warm day, and even with the ac on michael wasn't able to cool down sufficiently. since he was home alone and would be for the next several hours, he figured it wouldn't hurt to take off his shorts. he looked down at his exposed pull-up, his face warming. even though he was mostly used to it after 3 weeks, it was still an embarrassing predicament to be in.
michael booted up the playstation and opened his favorite game. none of his friends were online, so he decided to start a match with online randos. he took a swig of his diet coke and began playing.
about an hour later, he had downed the rest of his soda and a second can. he felt a pressure in his bladder, telling him it was probably time to get up and use the bathroom, but he ignored it. he was in the middle of a match he couldn't pause and didn't want to lose. switching to water, he took another sip and continued playing.
this went on for another hour. michael kept drinking, playing, and trying to ignore the growing pressure in his bladder. eventually, though, his bladder demanded attention.
one more match, he thought to himself. surely he could hold it.
finally, he was satisfied with his game. he looked down at his pull-up and began to stand up. his bladder spasmed and he doubled over, reaching a hand between his legs to hold himself.
fuck, he thought to himself. i didn't realize i had to go this bad.
he gave his dick a reassuring squeeze, surprised to find it semi-hard. intrigued by the pleasure, he began slowly rubbing the front of his pull-up.
since his forced accident a few weeks ago, he hadn't been forced into anymore. he'd been allowed to use the bathroom like normal, with no restrictions. he knew that joseph wouldn't be satisifed with simply making him wear the pull-up with no further attention, so he figured that additional humiliation would be coming, but he wasn't sure when.
"please, let me go," he said, out loud to no one. his face burned brightly. what was he doing? "fuck, i can't hold it any longer."
he squeezed his dick again and pressed his legs tightly together, trying as hard as he could to prevent the accident he knew was coming. he'd put off using the bathroom for too long, and now he would face the consequences. of course, if he wanted to, he probably could have gotten up and made it on time. but he was having too much fun. he would change out of his wet pull-up before joseph got home and no one would know.
"i can't hold it any longer, please let me go," he begged to no one. "i'm going to wet myself. i don't want to have a -- " he moaned.
"-- an accident."
with that, he felt his bladder spasm one last time, emptying itself into the soft padding.. he watched as it expanded more and more, sure it was going to leak. but he finished, and the pull-up held it all, miraculously.
"fuck," he said aloud. his dick was rock hard in the pull-up, straining against the wetness, which only served to humiliate him even further.
he stood up, ready to change, when a wave of tiredness swept over him. it must be the heat, he thought to himself. he looked over at his bed, which looked ever so inviting. he still had hours until anyone else would be home -- a short nap wouldn't hurt, right?
almost as soon as his head hit the pillow, he was out. asleep, he couldn't know just how much he looked -- in just a t-shirt and wet pull-up -- like a bedwetting toddler. he slept soundly on, blissfully unaware.
hours later, michael was jolted awake by his older brother's harsh, incredulous voice.
"wake up, bro," joseph said. he couldn't believe what he was looking at -- his little brother asleep in his pull-up, and by the looks of it, it was soaked. "you really pissed the bed, huh? good thing i took your undies away."
michael wasn't sure if he should cover his pull-up or his face, so he just lay their, dumbfounded and unmoving. he wanted to protest, that he didn't wet the bed, he just... he just purposefully peed in his pull-up, fully awake and aware. he couldn't find the words to explain himself, so instead he remained silent, burning in his shame.
"put these on," joseph said, throwing michael a pair of gym shorts. "we're going out."
I want you to help me pick out what to wear, and put on my clothes.
I want you to ask me if I have to potty, because little boys don’t always remember to stop when they’re playing.
I want you to ask me which superhero is on my underwear today, and wonder out loud whether they’ll have to fight the Evil Pee Monster.
I want you to check and make sure that my pants aren’t wet every so often.
I want you to gasp loudly and say, “uh-oh!” when you find I couldn’t stay dry.
I want you to take me by the hand to go change into something dryer, and more appropriate.
I want you to gently but firmly make me put on my pull-ups that you brought with against my protests.
I want you to reassure me that it’s ok to have accidents sometimes, that’s just what little boys do.
I want you to give me my paci to calm me down when I fuss about my new, thicker underwear.
I want you to help me take my pants off so you can check my pull-ups when we get home.
I want you to ask me when my pull-ups got wet ,and how, and why didn’t I say anything to you.
I want you to take me over your lap when I admit I didn’t even try to make it to the potty.
I want you to pull down my wet pull-ups and spank me while commenting on how disappointed you are that I don’t seem to care about not going pee pee in my pants.
I want you to hold me close, and gently rub my red bottom and tell me it’s ok while I cry softly into your chest.
I want you to stand up and tell me that it’s bedtime, and therefore diaper time.
I want you to drag me away while I protest that I don’t need diapers, and it’s still daylight outside.
I want you to ask me if I’ve already forgotten my sore bottom, since backtalk results in spankings.
I want you to lay me down on the diapers you laid out and powder and lotion my bottom.
I want you to tell me that I must be a very little boy indeed to still need diapers at my age.
I want you to ask me if I secretly wanted to be back in diapers when you see how turned on I’ve become.
I want you to tease me about my diapers getting wet during the night while you tape me securely into them.
I want you to give me my paci and cuddle me, and call me little one, and pat and rub my bottom while telling me that you don’t mind that I’m just a little boy, even when I’m naughty.
I want you to tell me that if I’m a good boy tonight and wet my diapers, maybe you’ll give me an extra special change only for really good boys in the morning.
As Kevin stood on all fours at the edge of his bed, feeling his warm pee spreading to the back of his padding, he was thinking, "How did this happen? Why doesn't my body listen to me? I should resist!" His constant stream of thoughts was interrupted by a familiar voice. "Aww, is my baby boy making peepees in his cute baby diaper?" The guy was speaking to Kevin as if he were a toddler, emphasizing the word "baby." Then, he put his hand on the back of Kevin's diaper and squeezed the wet padding before continuing to talk.
"You're probably wondering what's going on right now. Let me explain while you can still understand me. My name is Tennet. Does that sound familiar to you? I hope so, because I can't forget the name of the guy who made my high school years miserable. I hated every day at school because of you. Even after we graduated, I still have nightmares where you beat me until I looked like a living meatball. I started seeing a psychiatrist to deal with my nightmares, and he introduced me to the world of hypnosis. He helped me overcome my fears, and when I mentioned you, he suggested that your aggressive behavior might stem from your childhood. That's when I got the idea to use hypnosis to give you a new, happy childhood."
"I'm glad you were excited when I told you about this. Oh, you probably don't remember because you were too busy sucking me off in front of your friends. You were so cute when you messed your white briefs and begged me to put you back in your baby diapers."
" Now, when I snap my fingers, you'll push out all of your big boy thoughts in your diaper and become as smart as a two-year-old baby."
With a snap of his fingers, Kevin began pushing. The warm mess spread around his bottom, as he forgot how to drive a car, do algebra, basic math, tie his shoes, read, and even use the potty.
Now, Kevin sat with a load in his diaper, thinking, "It's so warm. I love when it's warm and squishy, and the sound I make when I push my poopies is so funny." Then, he heard a hissing sound. "I love how peepees sound. I want Daddy to squish my diaper."
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“Pull your shorts completely off now, you obviously need to be changed again. I don’t want to hear any complaining I wasn’t the one that started having these issues I’m just the one that put you back in diapers where you belong,” Chase said with a stern voice.
“No, it’s not my fault I didn’t even feel it was happening” Luke Cried pleading to his roommate and Best friend.
“that’s why you’re back in diapers, because you’ve been wetting the bed and wetting yourself for the last two weeks like some little toddler,” Chase said pulling blue shorts down completely. “See how wet you are, go lay on your bed it’s time for your diaper change little boy.”
Luke slowly walked into his bedroom and lay down on his back at the edge of his bed. He knew he had no choice his accidents were unpredictable and Chase was the one that was taking care of him now in regards to his incontinence. It seemed like he was being treated more and more like his best friends little boy.
“I don’t want you to be fussy anymore about your diaper changes and from now on when we’re at home you’re not going to cover your diaper with shorts or anything. Also I think it’s time for you to throw out your underwear you’re obviously not going to be wearing them anymore” Chase said in a stern tone.
Luke looked at Chase in shock. “You can’t do that! I’m not some kind of baby! I’m not your little boy! I’m not your little boy,” he protested weakly, feeling his cheeks redden.
“Don’t make me spank your bottom, Luke,” Chase warned, his voice firm but not unkind. He pulled out a thick, white diaper from the plastic package on the bedside table. The crinkling sound filled the room as he unfolded it. “You’re acting like a baby, so I’m treating you like one until you start acting like an adult about this.”
“Please Chase, I’m not your child,” Luke whimpered, his voice trembling as he stared at the diaper in his friend’s hands. The plastic smell of it filled his nostrils, a scent that was all too familiar now.
Ignoring his protests, Chase began to wipe Luke clean with a baby wipe, the coldness making him flinch. “You’re wetting the bed like one, so this is what you get. Now, hold still,” he ordered, his voice softening slightly.
With trembling hands, Luke complied as Chase pulled the clean, dry diaper under him, aligning it with his legs. The feeling of the soft material against his bare skin sent a strange mix of embarrassment and comfort through him. He watched as Chase secured the diaper in place with strong, efficient movements, the tapes sticking with a finality that made his stomach churn.
“Now are you going to obey me or do you need a punishment?” Chase asked, raising an eyebrow as he tucked the front of the diaper into the crotch.
“I-I’ll be good,” Luke stuttered, feeling the cushion between his legs and the humiliation wash over him.
“Good boy,” Chase said, patting the diaper. “Now, remember, no hiding it from me anymore. If you have an accident, tell me right away, okay?”
Luke nodded, his face burning with embarrassment. The reality of his situation was setting in, and he knew that he had to accept it. He was now living in a world where his best friend saw him as someone who needed to be treated like a child.
Chase smiled at Luke, seeing his submission and acceptance. It was like Luke was his child now, and he felt a strange sense of satisfaction in caring for him in such an intimate way. He knew it was for the best, but couldn’t help the thrill of power it gave him.
“You know I’m always here for you Luke,” Chase said gently, his eyes filled with a mix of concern and dominance. “But you need to understand that this is for your own good. I’ll take care of you, just like a daddy would.”
The word “daddy” echoed in Luke’s mind, sending a shiver down his spine. He hadn’t realized how much he’d come to rely on Chase’s care, how much he needed the structure and discipline that came with it. Despite the humiliation, there was something comforting about being taken care of in such a way.
“Yes… Daddy,” Luke murmured, the words slipping out almost unconsciously. He felt a strange mix of fear and comfort at the new dynamic that had developed between them. Thing were going to be quite different for the former womanizer now that he was under his best friends care.
“That also means no more women since I don’t think you want them to see you in your diapers,” Chase added, watching as Luke’s eyes widened in horror.
“What? No, I can’t give that up,” Luke protested, his voice rising in panic.
“Do you think a woman is going to want a man who helplessly wets the bed?” Chase questioned, his tone firm. He knew that the mention of Luke’s love life was a sensitive topic, but it was one that needed to be addressed. “You’re going to have to focus on getting better before you can think about that, and I’ll be the one helping you with that.”
Chase began to run the front of Luke’s diaper through his hands, feeling the softness and thickness of the material that now contained Luke’s manhood. “I’ll be the one to decide when you’re ready for that again,” he said, a hint of smugness in his voice. “Unless you want Daddy to take care of you instead?”
Luke’s face flushed even deeper as he processed the implication. “I… I don’t know what you mean,” he stuttered, trying to ignore the sudden heat between his legs.
Chase rubbed Luke’s diapered crotch gently, watching his friend’s reaction closely. “You know, I could help you with that, too,” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. “If you’re a good boy and follow all the rules, maybe Daddy can give you the attention you crave. You needed to end your womanizing ways anyway, don’t you think?”
“No stop…this isn’t right,” Luke managed to say, his voice shaky, but his protests were feeble as he felt Chase’s hand move in a way that was definitely not for changing purposes. The warmth of his friend’s touch against his sensitive skin was confusing him, making his thoughts swirl.
“Your becoming an adult baby, I mean it’s quite obvious with your bedwetting and now day wetting. How long will it be before you poop in your diaper too?” Chase smirked, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he poked Luke’s diapered stomach playfully.
Luke gasped, his eyes wide with shock and arousal. He hadn’t even considered that possibility, and the thought of being so completely dependent on Chase was both terrifying and oddly exciting. “I-I won’t, I promise,” he stammered, trying to push the thought away.
“But why shouldn’t you? A baby needs diapers and your already wearing one. Doesn’t it make sense just to poop in it too?” Chase said with a wink, his hand still lingering on Luke’s crotch.
“I-I don’t know,” Luke whispered, feeling a strange mix of fear and excitement. He had never considered the possibility of losing complete control over his bowel movements, but the idea of being fully dependent on Chase was strangely tempting.
“You have to poop right now don’t you, baby boy?” Chase said with a knowing smirk, watching the panic flit across Luke’s face. “It’s okay, Daddy’s here to help.”
Before Luke could respond, he felt a warm, firm pressure on his stomach as Chase began to rub in gentle circles. “Just relax and let it out,” he coaxed. “You know it’s what babies do in their diapers.”
The room grew quiet, except for the sound of their breathing, and Luke’s heart pounded in his chest. He couldn’t believe he was considering this, but the thought of pooping in the diaper was becoming less repulsive and more… natural. He took a deep breath and felt his body begin to obey Chase’s instructions. His cheeks grew warm with the effort, and he squeezed his eyes shut, hoping it would be over quickly.
Luke grunted as he pushed, feeling his muscles tense and release, and before he knew it, his body had complied with the humiliating demand. A warm, thick sensation filled the back of the diaper, and he couldn’t help but whimper at the sheer mortification. His face was a deep shade of crimson as he looked up at Chase, who was watching him with a mix of amusement and authority.
“Good boy,” Chase praised, his voice filled with satisfaction. “Now you’re truly my little baby. No more girls or sex like a big boy, only diapers and Daddy’s care.”
The words sent a jolt through Luke, the reality of his new life sinking in. His body felt heavy with the weight of the soiled diaper and his cheeks burned with shame. Yet, there was a part of him that felt a strange comfort in the degradation, a part that had always craved this kind of dominance and care.
Chase masturbated Luke through the diaper, the thick material providing a barrier that somehow made the act feel even more depraved. Luke’s body responded against his will, his hips bucking slightly at the unfamiliar sensation of being treated so intimately by another man. The diaper grew even warmer as he came, the feeling of his release trapped against his skin. He couldn’t believe what had just happened, and the thought of it made him feel even more pathetic.
“You only get to cum when you have a poopy diaper and only when I say you can, understand baby Luke?” Chase said with a firm nod, his hand still wrapped around Luke’s diapered crotch.
Luke’s eyes watered with a mix of embarrassment and pleasure as he nodded. “Yes… Daddy,” he murmured, the title slipping out almost instinctively now.
Chase leaned in, his breath hot on Luke’s face. “Good boy,” he whispered, giving the diapered bulge a firm squeeze. “You’re learning so fast.”
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“That’s it boy, listen to Daddy’s voice, stare at the screen and go back to that nice safe place.
The more you suck on that pacifier the deeper you go. Good boy, suck it hard.
Now, remember what I told you before, that diaper is locked on, as hard as you try you can’t get it off, yes it embarrasses you but little boys like you can’t be trusted not to mess themselves can they? So today we are going to add something new. Soon I will wake you up and send you to work. Make sure to check your phone regularly, Daddy will be sending you texts as usual. Whenever you see the word ‘pee-pee’, your bladder will open and you will piss your diaper. Whenever you see the word ‘poo-poo’ your bowels will open and fill your diaper with boy poo. you won’t know why, it will just happen automatically. you will be scared and mortified and tomorrow morning you will beg me to put you in a new diaper, you will fully understand you have no control, fully understand you need Daddy to save you from piss soaked and shit filled pants.
alex wasn’t just content with his brother matt wearing diapers during their vacation — he intended to make matt use them as well.
the nighttime wetting was the easiest. it was as though the diapers had given matt a sense of security that reverted him back to his bedwetting self — psychologically, his body knew that if the sheets were protected, there was no need to wake matt up to pee. the first night, he woke up as he was pissing into his diaper. after that, he slept blissfully through his accidents.
this still wasn’t enough for alex. during the day, he made matt ask for permission to use the bathroom. permission that never came, of course. combined with the countless drinks alex slid matt’s way, his diapers were wet more often than not. matt, threatened with pictures that would be sent to his girlfriend and roommates, was powerless to stop this humiliation.
somehow, their parents never caught on to the fact that their oldest son was pissing himself regularly throughout the week, and a week went by and it was time to go home.
“tell you what bro,” said alex. “here’s your boxers back. if you can stay dry until we get home, i’ll give you the rest of your underwear back and i’ll delete all the photos i took of you. if you can’t stay dry, then we’ll have to implement some more permanent changes.”
matt was right to be hesitant. he knew his brother must have been up to something. “what’s the catch?”
“no catch. you can use the bathroom whenever you want. just don’t piss yourself.”
this would turn out to be easier said than done.
their mom was a nervous flyer, so as soon as they made it through airport security she was at the airport bar.
“want anything?” she asked her sons after she ordered a glass of wine.
“let’s get a couple beers,” said alex.
matt, never one to turn down free alcohol, gladly accepted. alex knew their mom would want a second round, and when the time came he ordered a sprite for himself and another beer for matt.
as matt drank down his second drink, alex slipped a little sleeping medicine into the sprite. “finish this for me, yeah?” he said, sliding it over to matt. matt hesitated, then took the drink. what could be the harm? he could use the bathroom whenever he wanted, after all.
and he did, right before they boarded. alex didn’t mind. why would he?
matt began to feel tired as he sat down in the window seat, alex next to him. their parents were a few rows ahead, sitting in aisle seats across from each other. matt yawned as the flight attendants did their safety presentation.
“you tired?” asked alex, feigning innocence.
“yeah,” said matt. “i’ll be fine though. i’ll sleep through the flight and be refreshed when we land”
“let me know if you need me to get up so you cam go to the bathroom,” said alex.
they took off. alex was glad that matt managed to stay awake long enough for the flight attendants to offer a drink. matt ordered a glass of wine and used their dad’s credit card to pay for it.
half an hour later he was out like a light, resting his head on the tray table.
night night, bro, alex thought. it wouldn’t be long now before —
alex watched in glee as the front of matt’s pants began to darken. the alcohol, the sleeping medicine, the reliance on diapers for the last week had all caught up to matt, and he was pissing himself in his sleep, right on the airplane. alex grinned as he took another photo of his brother in wet pants to add to the collection.
when they landed, their parents would see that their oldest son had had an accident. alex would use matt’s credit card to order packs of diapers and pull-ups, and throw away the rest of his underwear. there’d be no hiding that matt was a bedwetting, diaper dependent loser. but for now, he slept on in his soaked pants and boxers, unaware just how much his life was about to change.
it wasn’t his fault he kept wetting himself — it was the diapers. it had to be… he hadn’t had an accident since he was a toddler, then his college roommate forced him to put on a diaper as punishment for losing a bet… it couldn’t be a coincidence. somehow he wet that diaper and his roommate used that as an excuse to throw away his underwear and keep him in diapers. he used to wear plaid boxers and calvin klein boxer briefs, now he wore adult diapers with childish designs on them. he was lucky if he wasn’t wet before the end of his first class of the day.
but it wasn’t his fault. the diapers were so thirsty, they were greedy, they begged to be swollen and thick. the diapers yearned for his piss and he couldn’t help but provide them with what they desired.
he could prove it, too. all he needed was to get his hands on some underwear, and he wouldn’t have accidents anymore. he knew this to be true. after all, it wasn’t his fault, it was the diapers’ fault.
after class he snuck into the locker room. his heart pounded, his face red hot as he waited for it to empty. if he got caught he wouldn’t know how to explain himself. but the thick, soaked padding between his legs reminded him why he needed to do this. he looked around one last time, and with the coast clear, he peeked into the closest gym bag. there, almost perfectly laid out for him, were a stranger’s boxer briefs. hardly thinking, hypnotized with the desire to prove himself right, he snatched the underwear and stuffed it into his own bag.
it was the diaper between his legs that made him do it. ever thirsty, it demanded he wet himself again. helpless to the padding, he obeyed. the diaper swelled even further, and he knew that one more wetting would cause it to leak.
his heart was still pounding when he got back to his dorm room. he slid off his pants, looking at the soaked diaper between his legs that made him wet himself over and over again. today, though, this would end. with the underwear on he would be cured. he knew it had to be true. because he wasn’t a bedwetter, he wasn’t a pantswetter. he was 18 and in college, he belonged in boxers and boxer briefs.
he undid the tapes and the diaper fell to the ground with a satisfying thud. he pulled on the stranger’s boxer briefs, the thinness of the fabric unfamiliar to him after all these weeks in diapers. he touched himself through the underwear, just like he used to.
suddenly, there was a pressure in his bladder. it intensified quickly, and within seconds he had to squeeze himself to keep from peeing. he had to make it to the bathroom, and quickly, before… before…
it happened all at once. he began pissing into his underwear, into his hands, unable to stop the flow. falling to his knees, he looked down at himself in shame, and then caught a glimpse of the diaper on the floor, the yellow padding taunting him. almost as if to say, “it won’t be that easy to get away from me.”
after a minute he stopped peeing. he looked at himself in the mirror, his face red and his eyes welling with tears.
he was just starting to think that he needed to clean up the mess, throw out the wet underwear, and tape his soaked diaper back on before his roommate got back, when he heard the door begin to unlatch…
thinking about a straight frat guy cursed to wet the bed each night if he cums that day. no more one night stands for the little guy, or else she’ll wake up in a puddle of his pee and expose him to everyone. even when he he jerks himself off he has to put on a pullup that night to protect his sheets.
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theres two different types of ppl who are into omo its either “awww cute wettings! :33 oh no i peed my panties oops! :< cute boys having accidents wahhh x3” or “i want them to fucking PISS on each other i want them to be HUMILIATED and SOBBING THEIR GODDAMN EYES OUT AS THEY COMPLETELY SOAK THEMSELVES and BEG FOR MERCY” theres no in between
It was an otherwise perfect day. The sun shined in the sky, no clouds in sight. Not too hot, not too cold. A light breeze trickled through the trees.
A perfect day for a picnic with friends.
You look around at your friends, all cheerfully lost in conversation and the impressive charcuterie spread your girlfriend put together. You’d be jealous of their carefree enjoyment—if you weren’t battling a more pressing problem.
A terrible, unavoidable problem. Dread consumed your mind. There was no escape. Your girlfriend would never allow you to run off and fill your diaper.
You were going to fill your diaper right here, surrounded by your friends. Your humiliating secret—and the soul-crushing diapers necessary to contain your accidents—was about to become common knowledge.
It was a fool’s hope to believe you could hold it long enough to avoid messing your diapers, you knew, but you were determined to try. The alternative of filling your diaper like some toddler as your friends watched, horrorstruck by your actions, was unthinkable.
You wouldn’t let it happen.
Wave after wave of cramps assaulted you. You squirmed and fidgeted but managed to resist. With each successful round of repelling your body’s attempt to humiliate you, your confidence grew. Even better, nobody had noticed your silent struggle.
At least, you thought they hadn’t. Your girlfriend knew exactly what your subtle movements and facial expressions meant, though she had no intention of tipping her hand, perfectly content to watch your futile battle.
“Hey, Chris, can you pass me another seltzer? Anything but grapefruit,” your friend Megan asked.
“Sure thing,” you replied, fighting off another wave of cramps. As you leaned forward to reach the cooler, the pressure in your stomach suddenly disappeared. For a split second, you thought you managed to resist again.
At least until you felt the unmistakable mass in your diaper. You froze in abject terror, realizing what had happened.
The good news, you determined, was that you hadn’t fully messed yourself. Only a tiny accident. The bad news was you still messed yourself.
“Uh, Chris?” Megan asked, “The seltzer?”
Megan’s request startled you back to the present. Summoning every effort to keep your face casual, you grabbed a seltzer and tossed it to Megan.
You sat back down. To your relief, you barely felt any mess spread around. With any luck—and some assistance from a brisk breeze—nobody would know what just happened.
Your girlfriend gave you an innocent smile before returning to her conversation. “Nobody knows,” you assured yourself.
Just as you relaxed, an overwhelming urge violently seized your body. Your feeble attempts to stop it were laughably insufficient.
Your body reflexively leaned forward to accommodate the freight train of humiliation barreling into your diaper. Crashing against it, spreading into every nook and cranny as the onslaught continued.
There was no hiding this.
Fortunately, your mess was as quick as it was enormous—nobody seemed to have caught you in the act. But as the dreadful, tell-tale scent of your mess mixed with baby powder reached your nose, you knew you were on borrowed time.
Time seemed to stand still as you sat there, your bulging mess an uncomfortable reminder of your new place in life. It was only a matter of time until you were discovered.
Until your friends realized you not only pooped yourself but pooped your diaper. That you were nothing more than a pitiful diaper boy, doomed to a pathetic fate.
If you hadn’t been too ashamed to look up at your girlfriend, you’d have seen the satisfied smirk on her face. She could barely contain herself.
Your heart collapsed into itself like a dying start as soon as you heard it. “W-what’s that smell? Did someone just shit themselves?”
“Seriously, it’s rank! Was it a dog?” Megan asked, looking around. “I don’t see one.”
Your friends, John and Amanda, who were sitting on either side of you, both dramatically sniffed you.
“What the hell, Chris?” John snorted, “Did you seriously just shit yourself?”
“It’s definitely Chris,” Amanda confirmed to the group.
It was over. There was no coming back from what came next.
“Chris, sweetie,” your girlfriend cooed softly, “Did you make stinkies in your diapee?”
Your face snapped up at her. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Why is she talking to you like some toddler?
“Wait…diaper?” Amanda gasped.
An explosion of laughter echoed around the group. “No way!” John visibly cringed.
Your girlfriend was standing over you in a flash. “Stand up, baby, I need to check that diaper of yours.”
For reasons you couldn’t comprehend, you meekly stood up, allowing your girlfriend to unbuckle your belt and fly, pulling your shorts to your knees, exposing your bulging, discolored diaper to your friends.
“Yep, he pooped!” your girlfriend said with an inauthentic tone of surprise as she peered into the seat of your diaper, “I think someone needs a change before he stinks up the whole park!”
The unnatural, accusatory silence that hung over the group destroyed your last shred of dignity. Tears flooded your eyes, overwhelming you.
For the first time in years, you were sobbing. Uncontrollable, gut-wrenching tears streamed down your face.
“Aww, don’t cry, little one,” your girlfriend consoled you, rubbing your back, “It’s just a diaper change! Nothing to be ashamed of. You couldn’t hold it! But your diaper did! Just like it’s supposed to!”
Your girlfriend grabbed your diaper bag, unfolded your changing mat, and placed it under you. “Lay down for me, honey. I’ll get you into a clean, fresh diaper in no time.”
You didn’t resist her as she guided you down, still sobbing uncontrollably.
“What is going on, Courtney?” Megan asked your girlfriend, “Why is Chris in diapers?”
“He’s been having a little trouble controlling himself,” your girlfriend said casually as if the scene unfolding before the group was completely normal, “So, I’ve decided to diaper him until he remembers how to use the potty. Poor thing has been really struggling to adjust to diapers.”
“Okay…but why are you changing him? He’s a grown-ass man!” John snickered.
“Does he look like a grown man, John?” your girlfriend chuckled, “Would you trust him to change his own diapers? Look at him, he’s sobbing on a changing mat in a stinky diaper! He needs his Mommy to help him with changies, don’t you, baby?”
Your sobs only intensify. You never expected your girlfriend to act like this.
“Wait, is this some kink thing, Courtney? I mean…Mommy? That’s…I don’t know…” Amanda asked.
“Kink? No, absolutely not. But what else would you call someone responsible for changing his diapers, acts as his authority figure, and has absolutely no sexual attraction to that person?”
“No sex…did you break up or something?” John asked, puzzled.
“Break up? No, nothing like that! But do you really think I want to have sex with him anymore? I mean, look at him!” your girlfriend declared, pointing down at you, sobbing harder than ever, pathetically laying on the changing mat waiting for your girlfriend to change your messy diaper.
“So he actually can’t control himself anymore?” Amanda questioned, “like he just poops and pees like a baby?”
“Seems that way!” your girlfriend laughs, “I think it’s adorable, though! Better to find out now he’s a diaper-dependent man-child than later! Could you imagine if I was married to him?”
“He certainly is adorable!” Megan adds, “But yeah…I don’t think some diapered crybaby is marriage material!”
“Exactly!” your girlfriend agrees, grabbing a spare diaper, wipes, and baby powder from the bag. She kneels down in front of you, spreading your legs.
You continue to cover your burning face, drowning in the humiliation. Not only were your diapers revealed to your friends, but now your new place in your girlfriend’s life—something you also learned for the first time.
Your girlfriend rolled up your shirt, providing even greater access to your overworked diaper. She loudly rips the first tape, your friends’ laughter echoing in your ears.
“Stop squirming, silly,” your girlfriend commanded, pressing a hand on your soggy diaper.
Three more tabs rip off like gunfire. Thick, heavy silence hangs over you as she prepares to open your diaper and fully expose your shame to the group.
It was only then that you realized nobody thought you should be changed in a more private place. The weight of the implication crushes you as if an elephant sat on your chest.
They don’t see you as a man—or even an adult. Adults don’t get their diaper changed so openly, so casually, like it’s perfectly normal—but you do. In the time it took for you to load your diaper, you lost your dignity and respect.
Adults have girlfriends. You have a Mommy. A Mommy to care for you, control you, and change your stinky diapers. And Mommies have…no, you won’t even think it. The thought is too painful.
Cold air rushes onto you, and your girlfriend opens up your diaper. Each giggle caused a stabbing pain. Cold wipes probe you sending shivers down your spine.
“What did I say about squirming, little one?” your girlfriend says dictatorially.
The wiping stops. For a moment, you think your humiliation is ending.
The thought didn’t last. “John, can you lift up Chris’s legs for me?”
“Sure thing, Courtney!” John cackled, “Up you go, Chris!”
Two strong hands grip your legs as your legs are thrust into the air. “Thank you, John!” your girlfriend says, wiping the rest of you down.
The unmistakable sounds of a diaper being fluffed haunt your ears. “Oh, thank you, Megan!”
“No problem, I wanted to join in too! I never would have thought Chris could be this adorable!”
“I didn’t, either!” your girlfriend laughs, “Okay, let's get his new diaper under him! There! You can lower his legs, John.”
John slowly lowered you onto the fresh, thirsty diaper under you. Your girlfriend sprinkled the baby powder, diligently rubbing it in, prolonging your humiliation.
Finally, mercifully, the new diaper is raised up and taped on. “There, all fresh and clean, little Chris!” your girlfriend says proudly. She gently slaps your diaper. A small puff of powder adorably poofs out of your diaper to the delight of Amanda and Megan.
“Stand up so I can get your shorts on, honey,” your girlfriend prodded. When you didn’t react, despite your desperate desire to cover your diapers, she added, “Unless you prefer to keep your precious pampers uncovered…”
For the first time you filled your diaper, you found your voice. “No! I-I want my shorts!”
“You want your shorts what, sweetie?”
“May I have my shorts, please!”
“Baby, you’re still missing something. And I want you to look at me. No more hiding.”
You slowly—anxiously—lower your hands. You locked your eyes on hers, too terrified of what you’ll see on your friends’ faces. You wordlessly try to convey your desperation, begging her for mercy.
She merely smiled back at you. “Thank you for looking at me, little one. But you’re still forgetting one thing if you want your shorts. You know what it is, you’re a smart boy.”
Your knees trembled. Surely she doesn’t actually expect you to call her Mommy, right? Not when you’re standing in front of your friends with your freshly changed diaper exposed for all to see.
“Say it, Chris. Now.”
Pee trickled into your diaper.
“Please may I have my shorts…Mommy,” you squeaked.
“Awww, that was so cute!” Megan gushed.
“Thank you, honey! Yes, let’s put your shorts on you,” your Mommy coos, grabbing your shorts and putting them on you like you were too helpless to do it on your own.
“What do you say to everyone who helped change your diaper, Chris?” Mommy asked sternly.
“T-thank you,” you whisper.
“No, no, no, that won’t do. You have to look at them, silly! And you have to say what you’re thanking them for.” Mommy demanded.
With a Herculean effort, you made eye contact with your friends. They smiled at you expectantly, like you were a child about to utter their first word. “Thank you for helping change my diaper…”
“No problem, cutie!” Amanda says, “Happy to help!”
Megan echoed Amanda, “You’re very welcome, baby Chris!”
John smiled, “Glad I could help, squirt!”
“That wasn’t so hard, was it, baby?” Mommy chirped, “Now be a good boy and throw this icky diaper in the trash! But don’t wander off, I need to keep an eye on you!”
You grab the stinky, heavy diaper from your Mommy. As you’re walking toward the trash can, a chorus of laughter erupts from your friends.
“OMG can I please babysit him sometime? He’s so cute! I was actually jealous you got to date him, Courtney! But now look at him!” Amanda jeered.
“Absolutely! He deserves all the humiliation coming to him. Serves him right for destroying our relationship. I thought I was going to marry him! I thought he was special. Turns out he’s nothing more than a pathetic pamper packer…”
“Just changed you x amount of time ago and you’re already wet again?”
“You’re such a little baby, sitting in your wet diaper.”
“You don’t have potty privileges. You can sit right there in your diaper and go potty like the baby you are.”
“Show Mommy/Daddy how wet you are baby. Knowing you, I’m sure you’re not dry. You never are for long.”
“No you’re not allowed to change. You’re just a baby. You’re not to be concerned about your little diapies. That’s Mommy’s/Daddy’s job.”
“Time for a diaper check baby. I don’t care if you didn’t go. You’re too little to be able to check on your own.”
“Go put on a diaper, then you can potty. No toilet for my little baby.”
“You’re so fucking wet and you love it don’t you?”
“Put some panties on over that wet diaper. I want every inch of that pressed against you so you don’t forget what a little baby you are.”
“Piss yourself for me, like my little baby.”
“Tell me how much of a baby you are while you press that wet diapie against yourself.”
“Mommy/Daddy is going to go potty in the toilet while you sit there in your little wet diapie like a proper baby.”
“Oh you want to be sassy? There’s goes your opportunity for a change. That’s another hour for you. I don’t care if you leak.”
“Let’s see how much those can hold. I’m sure Mommy/Daddy’s little one can fill those up in no time.”
“No big boy/girl panties today. I think today will be a no potty privileges day for my baby. “
“You’re not a baby? Why don’t you say that to me again but this time press on that soaking diaper between your legs.”
“Aww you leaked? That’s okie sweetheart that’s what happens to babies that can’t control when they potty.”
“You wanna use the big kid potty? Alright go sit on it but keep that diapie on. You can pretend you’re a big kid. Oh no, that’s not what you meant? I don’t care. Go. Now.”
“Go sit on the potty with your diaper on baby. Mommy/Daddy wants to see you try to go like a big kid. Your diaper will hold up, don’t worry.”
“Go put on a diaper. I don’t trust you to keep those pants clean. You’re just a baby after all.”
“Aw sweetie did you have an accident in your diapie? Such a good boy/girl for Mommy/Daddy.”
“That diaper is sagging something fierce baby. Good. Now you look like the baby you are. Sit down.”
“Since you like to not do what you’re told so much, why don’t you just go and pee your little pants. Show me how much of a big kid you are without your diapers.”
“If you don’t want to listen, you can put a fresh diapie on over that one. Then we will see how much you feel like being bratty, hm?”
“I want that diaper thicker. My baby is such a little potty pants, we have to make sure you’re properly protected.”
“You can’t walk properly? Good. You can crawl.”
“You’re squishy? Aw darling that means your diapers are working well.”
“My baby had an accident? Aw aren’t you glad Mommy/Daddy knew enough to put you in diapers?”
“Today is diaper day. No excuses or negotiation.”
“Look at my baby trying to be all tough when you’re sitting there in a soaked diaper. You’re cute when you try to be all big.”
“It’s little time. Diaper on, and pacifier in until Mommy/Daddy says. You talk with it in and you ask permission to take it out.”
“I said keep your paci in. Ten minutes humping that soaking little diaper of yours. Maybe that will teach you to listen to Mommy/Daddy.”
“I think you need a reminder of who owns that cute little tushy. Diapered and in the corner. Time out time. Don’t worry, your diapie will catch all your accidents”
“Yes sweetie, you look very big in those big kid undies. Now stop playing dress up and lets get you in a diaper.”
“Are you trying to hide that you’re wet? Oh silly, Mommy/Daddy already knew you were. Why do you think we asked for a diaper check?”
“I know you’re wet. The question is, how wet?”
“Lay on your tummy baby, and keep your paci in. You need some tummy time.”
“I love my little potty prince/princess.”
“You look so good with that paci in your mouth, why did I ever let you take it out?”
“Is my baby fussy? That’s get that little rush changed and down for a nap. No, you don’t get a choice.”
When people are very young, they tend to say that they can’t wait to get older. This was not the case for Lexi, she knew what getting older meant. And today was her 22nd birthday. Seemingly, the years were going by faster than she wanted.
“What did I even do last year?” she thought to herself.
Still, today was a good day, a fun day, with friends and family coming over for dinner. And she had a great time! She was happy to see all those people. Then, her mother brought the cake. The guests singing Happy Birthday was depressing to Lexi, because it just meant another year going by.
“Why are there so many candles?” she thought. Twenty-two candles, one for every year. It was hard for her to look at.
“Make a wish!” said her mother. Lexi half-smiled to be polite, but she did wish something. She wished that she could stay twenty-two forever and when she blew on the candles, time froze. People were stuck mid-clap and mid-cheer.
A man in a suit had appeared. “Hello, Lexi. Happy Birthday.”
“Who are you?”
“Me? Don’t worry about me. I’m just here to make a deal.” He took a dramatic pause. “I know what you wished for Lexi and I can give it to you.”
“What’s the catch?”
“Smart girl. If you want to fulfill your wish, and I assure you I’ll keep my side of the bargain, you’ll need to empty your bowels right here and now in front of everybody…once they’re back to normal.”
“I-I don’t think I understood.”
“Yes, you understood just right. But that’s really the least of it. Because once the wish is activated, and you can’t take it back, you will need diapers. You will need them because you will have very obvious and public accidents. In fact, you’ll never use the bathroom again. Any time you need to go, you’ll stop what you’re doing, announce it loudly and do it. That’ll be out of your control. But, you will be twenty-two forever, as promised. No, no, stop pinching yourself, this is real. You can tell this is real. So what will be Lexi? You’ll have just a few seconds, so be quick.”
“No, no, wait!” cried Lexi, rising from her seat.
With that, the man snapped his fingers, disappeared and everything else returned to normal. Lexi hesitated for a moment, but felt the pressure in her stomach and decided to push.
“Are you okay, dear?” asked her mother.
It was surprisingly easy to push. She did have to grunt and turn red, but it certainly was coming out..
“I did it.” Lexi mumbled to herself. “Oh god.”
Everyone was coming to the realization of what had happened. Needless to say, they were all stunned. The smell hit them too.
“Thank you all for coming.” Lexi’s mother said. “We’ll just do some clean-up. Come on, Lexi.”
The guests looked at each other as Lexi left the room to change.
“Uh-oh! I’m making tinkles!” Lexi shouted from her bedroom. And instead of doing anything to stop it, she stared at the puddle forming at her feet. What an odd sensation. She hadn’t been able to stop herself yet felt it thoroughly as it was happening.
Soon enough, Lexi was back in diapers announcing she was making “oopsie-daisies”, “messies” or “accidents” to anyone within earshot. Like telling her boyfriend “Daddy, I had an accident!” when they were shopping at the mall, or saying “Mommy, I went in my diapie!” to her mother while eating at a restaurant. So much for being twenty-two.
You desperately looked at the shore, lamenting how far away it was. You'd never make it in time. It was still at least 40 minutes away.
If you're lucky, you could hold it for five.
You hated these family vacations. Your parents still forced you to go, even though you were a senior in college. Vacations with family meant two weeks of your parents treating you like a child because you still weren't out of diapers.
Two weeks of your little sister publicly checking your diapers. Two weeks of hearing her laughing when your mother dragged you away for diaper changes.
There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide on this damned boat. Nowhere to sneak away to load your diaper without drawing attention.
All you knew is it couldn't happen here, while you sat between your mother and sister. Between your mother’s overbearing concern and sister’s taunting, you’d rather throw yourself off the boat in shark infested waters.
No. You had to go somewhere, anywhere to get away from them.
"I'm gonna go look for dolphins," you lied, hoping nobody would follow.
You slowly wander to the back of the boat through the crowd. If anyone had a toddler, they'd recognize your walk for what it is: the desperate toddling of someone trying not to poop his diaper.
You get to the railing, squeezing it tight, fighting your body. “Not here. Just a little bit longer,” you plead to yourself.
“Hey! This is embarrassing but you’re staying at the Flamingo Sands, right? There’s literally no one our age there and I’m going crazy!”
You almost lose control when you look up at her. She’s beautiful and she came up to you! You try to play it cool, despite the foreboding cramping in your stomach.
“Yeah, I swear the average age there is 65!”
Your heart skips a beat when she laughs, much more than expected for that joke. Maybe…just maybe you have a chance.
“I know, it’s supposed to be a party resort, not a retirement center!” she quips, “well, maybe you want to get a dri—are you okay?”
A savage cramp forced you to grab the railing and squat down a few inches. Your face growing a violent shade of maroon.
The cramp mercifully passes without you loading your diaper in front of her. Recovering yourself, you try to play it off.
“Yeah, sorry, I shouldn’t have gone snorkeling when I was this hungover,” you lie.
“Hahaha, I feel that. I thought I was gonna die yesterday. Wayyyy to many Mai Tai’s!”
Just as you’re about to respond, you hear footsteps coming towards you. Before you can even see who it is, you hear her.
Your sister.
“Hey, buddy, Mom says it’s been a while since she checked that diaper of yours, so I volunteered to do it!”
“Wait, what do you mean? Are you…? You’re wearing a diaper?” she asks, both deeply amused and wildly confused.
“Yeah!” your sister answers enthusiastically, “this little stinker has never managed to get out of diapers!”
“Oh my god, no way! That’s so embarrassing! I was about to ask him to get drinks with me!” she says, dripping in condescension, “wait. Are you actually cramping cause you’re hungover? Or are you trying not to poop your diaper? Because my niece is a toddler and she does the exact same thing!”
“Oh I’m sure it was! He had the cutest little poopy dance!” your sister teases, “he’s due for a stinky anytime!”
You try and give your sister your best death glare, too humiliated to speak. All it does is make her giggle.
“I don’t smell anything, but let’s see,” she says pushing your shoulders forward.
You won’t let your sister check you in front of her. Not like this. But in your effort to resist, you unclench yourself.
The consequences were immediate. You realized your mistake as your knees buckled into a deep squat. You were powerless to stop it.
You were pooping your diaper in front of them.
“No way! You’re actually squatting down like my niece! You even make the same little grunts! That’s so cute!”
You’re unable to defend yourself, incapable of anything but squatting and pushing. Despite your lifetime of filling diapers, you’ve never been more humiliated than you are now.
To your horror, you realize this isn’t a little accident. Round after round of mush fills your diaper. Bulging out, searching for space.
“Does he always poop this long?” she asks.
“Oh yeah, he makes the biggest poopies,” your sister answers, “my mom makes him wear the biggest diapers on the market. No idea how you didn’t see them proofing under his swimsuit!”
“Well now I can! It looks like he’s pooped out a mountain!”
Just as you think you’re done, you hear another voice.
“Oh, honey,” your Mom coos, “I saw you squatting down all the way from where I was sitting! Are you all done? Let me see.”
You meekly allowed your Mom to check you like a toddler in front of two giggling girls, hoping a tsunami was barreling towards you.
“Sweetie, you really filled your diaper,” your mom says, “I don’t think you can sit down unless you want a blowout.”
“Just change him here,” your sister adds unhelpfully, “you can’t subject the boat to his stink!”
She laughs, “for as big as the lump in his diaper, he doesn’t really smell! He won’t get a rash?”
“The captain said we still have 45 minutes until we’re back on shore,” your Mom says thoughtfully, “maybe it would be best to change you now. I saw a secluded place in the front, maybe we can ask the captain if it would be okay to change him there.”
With that, your Mom pulls you after her, heading to the captain. The last thing you see is her laughing with your sister, lost in conversation.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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I'll be slowly bringing back some of my more popular captions. This one features the fantastic PaddedKittenVuittQn.
“What are you looking at!?” she glares, as you watch the stream run down to her ankles, “What do you mean, do I feel any different? Feel different how?
“Oh, god, is this about that stupid file you made me listen to? Look, I told you already, hypnosis isn’t real. Get over it. Sorry to burst your bubble.
“Do I remember what it said? Uhhh… no, I kind of fell asleep listening to it. Wasn’t all that exciting, I guess.
“Okay, seriously -” she’s starting to sound annoyed, now - “I’m not talking about this anymore. I have to get to work, and right now I’m trying to figure out - ugh - why my jeans are so uncomfortable all of a sudden.
“But, hey,” she chuckles, “thanks for the fifty bucks, I guess.”
“Ummmm, excuse me? Can I get some privacy in here, please?
“What do you think I’m doing here? What I always do here. You know…
“Okay, fine! I wanted to show you I could still use the potty. I mean, it’s not like I have to go or anything,” she insists, though you can hear her tummy churning, “but then you had to be so mean about it and say I prolly forgot how…
“Yeah, I know why I’m in diapies!” she’s clearly flustered, “I mean diapers. Rrgh. I had a couple accidents, okay? I don’t know, they just happened. I can still go potty like a big kid - I mean a big girl - I mean a growed-up - grrrr - I’m not a baby, okay?
“What do you mean, I clearly need my diapies? I mean diapies - ugggh!” she yells, her face glowing red, “No, of course they’re dry! I… I think?
“The new file? Yeah, I listened like you told me to. I don’t know why you like those so much, it’s not like they do anything,” she rolls her eyes, as her body shifts automatically into a squat, “plus, you said I’d get candy…
“Now could you not distract me? I’m trying to remember what to - hnnnnph - sorry, trying to remember what to do now…”
For a moment, she’s silent, looking around the bathroom and scratching her head, before she turns it back towards you and sniffs.
“Ew. What’s that smell?”
For a moment, you wonder if that’s her mouth watering as she looks at the donuts. But no, she’s just drooling. Again.
She probably doesn’t even remember how she got this reward, what new instructions she had to listen to to be holding them in her hands. Of course, there’s a lot she doesn’t remember lately - how to talk properly, how to walk properly, how to use the potty…
Well, that’s just what she gets for being so stubborn. Maybe, after she realized she’d wandered off to work in soaking wet jeans, she should have learned to stop taking your wagers. But no, she just kept on insisting that hypnosis wasn’t real, and kept signing up for everything you offered - and at a lower price, to boot.
And now, that leaves her here. You know she’s just going to make a terrible mess of things if she eats on her bed, but you let her have her treat anyway. After all, she’s earned it.
“I am going to hold it, I am going to hold it. I know I can, I know I will, I know I must”.
Daddy got me diapered for a while now.
My bladder got a little weak this last few weeks, but I still can manage my poopies. Every time I needed to go number 2, I asked daddy to go to the bathroom. Usually, I had to wait until daddy would come and help me to the toilet. I held it, it was fine, I could wait.
This last week when I asked to go poopie, I wet myself just before we’ve made it to the bathroom. I knew wetting was a lost battle, but I took pride in the fact that I still could hold my poopies.
Yesterday daddy was busy when I asked to go to the bathroom.
I waited and waited, and a little pressure had started to build up inside of me.
I asked daddy again and raised my voice a little.
“It was the first and last time you’ll raise your voice at me, and the last time you’ll ask to go to the bathroom for the second time. You are warned”.
Daddy was as serious as hell. There is no way I’ll raise my voice again nor ask him twice for poopies.
But this morning I was in a major problem.
I needed to go make poopies so bad. I asked daddy to take me to the bathroom. He said he was busy working on the computer, and he’ll take me in a few minutes. I squirmed and twisted in my place, doing my best to hold it. I even run to the bathroom door, just standing there.
As I bounced from side to side, I lost control over my bladder and wet myself. It was a heavy wetting because gradually the whole diaper felt wet and heavy.
I wanted to call for daddy, I wanted to scream for him.
I couldn’t, I was warned not to.
As tears started to build up in my eyes, I thought it was a good idea to save time and take my pants down.
I’m not going to hold it, I’m going to mess my diaper, just outside an unlocked bathroom door.
I’m a grown man, messing his diaper because his daddy trained him to do just that.
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Many thanks to the cute and adorable @junior-snuggle for the picture.
Abdl/Omo Enjoyer @transmascfrathousebro - Tumblr Blog | Tumlook