Daddy's Hideout

You can’t take it anymore. You need Daddy.

Tonight.

It’s been so long since Daddy let you have any big girl fun with him.

So very long.

Daddy stripped away every aspect of your adulthood, piece by piece, thrusting you into this infantile world of diapers, nap times, and Fisher-Price playsets.

Nothing but mind-numbing baby shows, toddler-level books, and never-ending nursery songs.

Everything but this.

Too cute to stay dry 😇 Sound on, it‘s crinkle time 🌸

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Her calm, composed smile clashes violently with your tearful, snot-filled face. A picture-perfect snapshot of the ever-widening difference between the two of you.

“Sweetie, even the best of us can get overwhelmed by big feelings, but you can’t run off and pout all day. Will you at least let Mommy change that stinky diaper?”

Every part of you wants to yell and scream, yet her presence soothes you more than you’ll ever admit.

And after the show you just put on for your friends, you needed it.

“So you’re going to stand there and tell me you don’t have a messy diaper? That’s how you want to play this, sweetie?”

“You can use all the big words you want, baby. All the words you learned as an adult. But it doesn’t change who you are now, does it? Nope. You’re not an adult. You’re my little.”

“Awww, I know you want to be an adult. But it’s too late for that, baby. Look at me, you’re not an adult anymore. You never will be again. Why fight it?”

“Who cares? You don’t need to be a man to make me happy! You’re making me happy right now. Do you know how cute you look in that obviously messy diaper you won’t admit to? It’s okay, you’re little now. This is how it’s supposed to be. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about, honey.”

Boys are messy creatures. From their sticky fingers to their questionable aim in the bathroom, boys have never been good at keeping things clean. A diaper just simplifies the whole process—no more "oops, I missed" or "it was just an accident!"

Moms and girlfriends are already cleaning up after them. Ever noticed how boys conveniently “forget” how to do laundry, dishes, or pick up their own socks? They already expect someone else to handle their messes—diapers just make it official!

They think farting is funny. So let’s see how they like a full diaper. Boys love to giggle about their own gas, but let’s see how funny it is when there’s more than just air in their diaper. Oh, what's that? Suddenly it's "not so funny"? Thought so!

They have the attention span of a goldfish. Oh, look! A ball! A car! A flashing light! Boys get so distracted by the simplest things—who has time to actually remember to use the potty when there are way more important things to focus on? Best to keep them safely diapered so they don’t make a mess when they inevitably forget.

They have NO shame. Boys will scratch, burp, and do all sorts of gross things in public without a second thought. If they have no problem acting like babies in front of everyone, why not dress them like one too?

They never know when to stop playing. Boys will run around, roughhouse, and completely ignore their obvious potty signals until—oopsie! Too late! Rather than trusting them with big boy underwear (as if!), it’s just safer to keep them padded so they can go whenever they inevitably lose track of time.

They’re so lazy. Let’s be honest, even if a boy could make it to the potty, would he really want to? Getting up, stopping what he's doing, actually aiming—so much effort! It's just easier to let him go in his diaper like the helpless little thing he is.

They still act like babies, so they might as well wear what babies wear. Boys whine when they don’t get their way, throw tantrums over the smallest things, and sulk when they lose. If they’re going to act like fussy little toddlers, they should be dressed like one too—diapers included!

They hate being told what to do. Which makes it even more fun! The best part? They’ll huff and puff, but there’s nothing they can do about it. They can squirm all they want—at the end of the day, they’ll still be right where they belong: safely diapered.

Deep down, they know they belong in diapers. At the end of the day, all their silly protests and puffed-up bravado don’t change the truth—boys just aren’t meant for potty training. They’re much better off being padded, protected, and properly taken care of. And while that will never change, their diapers certainly will—again and again and again

Oh my god, baby, you're soaked 😂

Get over here, lets get you changed

“Hi sweetie,” she waved from the library steps, “I’m so glad you could make it to our little study date.”

“W-well,” I blushed, flustered at her flirtatious wording, “I wouldn’t miss it.”

It was true; I would never ever miss this. I’m still surprised that the prettiest girl in my biology class asked me to study with her.

Firstly, I was surprised because we hadn’t really talked outside of a few passing words, and I knew she was out of my league, so I mostly tried to mind my own business.

Secondly, I was surprised because I knew she didn’t need my help studying. While I was no academic slouch, she would usually score insanely high on the quizzes and tests. There were only a handful of times I scored higher than her throughout the semester. I guess she took the upcoming final seriously.

“So you ready to lock in and hit the books?” She offered a gentle smile that made me blush at its tenderness.

“Mhmmm,” is all I could squeak out.

“I know we’re just going to ace this final together, sweetie!”

Her energy was infectious, and I couldn’t help but grin —even through the sweetly condescending pet names that I —honestly— didn’t mind at all.

We didn’t need to walk far to find a secluded spot in the library; despite it being finals season, our ‘date’ was happening late enough into the night that the library was more or less abandoned.

As she sat down at a table of her choosing, I grunted as I heaved my heavy backpack off of my shoulders.

“That must be one heavy bag,” she raised her eyebrow in a gently inquisitive manner, “What’s in it? Must be full of textbooks… or maybe something else…?”

She offered the last question as if trying to imply something. I blushed, knowing full well what was actually in my backpack, but I chose to ignore the implication. There was no way she knew; no need to be nervous.

“Yep,” I chuckled nervously, “So many textbooks.”

“Uh-huh… right,” the corners of her lips tucked into a barely perceptible frown, “Well, let’s get started with studying then.”

I did have textbooks in my bag, but they weren’t the only items in my bag. I also had a couple spare diaper changes.

I liked to wear diapers for as long as I remembered. There was something about them that just drove me crazy: the security, the vulnerability, the… cuteness. It all just made me feel deliciously small and little.

When I moved away to college and eventually got my own room, I decided to start wearing diapers full time. After all, why not — they made me happy, and I was living alone now anyway.

That’s all well and good, but you’re probably wondering why I would risk compromising hanging out with the hottest girl in my biology class by wearing on this date? Well… while I wouldn’t say I’m not potty trained anymore, I definitely am not totally 100% as potty trained as I used to be before I started wearing diapers 24/7.

So I chose to go the better safe than sorry route and continue wearing diapers for this study session.

I was ripped from my nervous inner dialogue by a seemingly innocuous question about the cell cycle.

I’d be lying if I said I was really focused on studying after that. My thoughts were consumed by the gorgeous girl in front of me; she was flirtatious yet condescending, and I didn’t quite know what to make of it. Not that I wasn’t enjoying her company.

I was once again distracted from my thoughts when I heard her pencil gently drop to the table.

I looked up from my own notes to meet her eyes. She was sniffing the air curiously, as if trying to place a certain smell that had no business among the well curated library.

I blushed. I hadn’t had an accident… had I?? I squished my thighs together and felt clearly soggy padding between them. I guess I hadn’t noticed while being distracted by studying and flirting.

I just needed to calm down. If I just focused and acted like nothing was wrong, she wouldn’t—

“Do you need a change, sweetie?”

My whole world shattered with that simple question, asked as if it was as innocent as asking to borrow a pen.

“Uhh-uhh,” I stammered, “I d-don’t know what you’re—“

“Sweetie,” she giggled, “I know you’re in diapers. The bulk is obvious if you know what to look for. I also know that your bag isn’t bulging at the seams from just textbooks; I imagine you have a few spare diapers in there. I also know that it smells just a little bit like pee, and the culprit is sitting right across from me. Isn’t that right mister?”

Tears started to well in my eyes. I didn’t expect this, and I honestly wasn’t prepared for it. Why would she want to hang out with me if she knew?

“I uhmm— why??”

“Hey, hey… save those alligator tears, okay?”

She gave me the same tender smile she’d worn all night that somehow seemed to portray generous understanding and vigorous curiosity simultaneously.

“I knew you were in diapers before I asked you out on this date,” she reached across the table to wipe a tear from my cheek, “I really don’t mind —in fact, it’s the whole reason I asked you out.”

“R-really?” I asked between tears.

“Yep,” she assured, “I think littles like yourself are just so cute, and I’ve been dying to find a little of my own to care for.”

“O-oh,” I blinked, astonished at the scenario unfolding before me.

“Plus, I think you’re pretty cute…” she blushed.

“T-thanks.”

“So how about I change your diaper, and we get back to studying. Then, if you like, we can get coffee —or hot chocolate for you I guess— sometime after this? What do you say?”

“O-okay.”

Because the library was so deserted, she asserted that it would be fine to change my diaper right on the table. She gently unzipped my shorts and pulled them around one ankle.

“Ahhhww sweetie,” her eyes softened, “these turtle diapers are just adorable! Do you like turtles?”

“Y-yes mommy…”

The title felt strange on my tongue; not unpleasant, and she seemed to beam down at me for using it.

“Can you hold your shirt up for mommy?”

I nodded before holding it with my mouth.

“You’re so cute,” Mommy giggled, “I just know we’re going to have a great time together!”

——————————————————————————

As Always, all characters depicted are 18+

“Sweetheart, this is what you wanted,” mommy sighed, “you said you wanted to be little more often, and I happily agreed, remember?”

“Yeah, but not in public!” I pouted.

“It’ll only be a picnic in the park. It’ll be a fun outing with Mommy, super casual.”

“B-but I’ll be in diapers.”

Mommy chuckled at that, “Baby, you’re in diapers most the time anyways these days. I don’t want you to be trapped in the house just because of some silly fear about someone seeing your diapers. What I do want is to spoil my baby boy by taking you on adventures to amusement parks, playgrounds, the zoo, you name it! There’s nothing to be afraid of sweetie, I promise.”

Mommy gave me one of her signature radiant smiles, and when I saw her lovingly looking down at me, I got the sense that everything was going to be alright. After all, she was my mommy, and she was going to take care of me.

“Mmmm okay mommy,” I crossed my arms trying to accent my point but probably looking more like a toddler than I wanted to, “but I want to wear big boy clothes!”

“Hmmm,” mommy put a thoughtful finger and thumb up to her chin as if she was some sagely philosopher, “Well, I don’t know about big boy clothes, but how about these.”

She showed me a pair of khaki shorts and a Barney t-shirt.

“I don’t wanna wear a Barney t-shirt, mommy!”

“But sweetheart, you’d look so cute in it!”

“Nuh-uh Mommy!”

“Hmmm well would you prefer your little onesie that says ‘Mommy’s little stinker’ on it? Or maybe your shortalls with the adorable little teddy bear on the front? Oh you’d look so adorable!”

“No! No! No! I wanna wear a big boy shirt, mommy!” I stomped my feet in a budding temper tantrum. Mommy’s smile faded, and I immediately regretted my brattiness.

“Careful baby,” Mommy raised an eyebrow, “if you keep throwing a tantrum, you’ll wear the onesie with a red bottom peaking out for everyone to see.”

“S-sawry mommy,” I tilted my head downward.

Mommy lifted my head to meet her gaze with her fingers under my jaw, “it’s okay little one. Thank you for apologizing like a good boy.”

“Heh you’re welcome Mommy!” I giggled. I loved when she called me a good boy…

“Now,” Mommy smiled, “Let’s get you dressed. And no more fussing. Honestly, I don’t think you have any ‘big boy’ shirts left. Remember how we threw out most of your big boy clothes? Barney might be the most big boy shirt you have left.”

“Okay mommy,” I sighed, resigned to my fate.

“Don’t worry, Sweetheart; we’re going to have a great time!”

Before I knew it, I found myself on a picnic blanket in the middle of the park with a sippy cup between my lips and a Barney shirt on my chest. Mommy dressing me and strapping me into my car seat usually felt like it took longer, but it probably went by so quickly because of how anxious I was.

Still, whenever I looked at Mommy’s gentle smile, I felt safe, and the world seemed perfect, even if the world felt like it only encompassed the park Mommy and I currently occupied.

Mommy had packed me diagonally sliced peanut butter and jelly sandwhiches as well as animal crackers! They were so tasty!

After awhile, I forgot about my anxiety in lieu of all the fun I was having! Mommy was right —as per usual— picnics were fun!

That is, until she decided to check my diaper.

Without so much as a word, I felt mommy’s hand squish against the seat of my diaper over my khaki shorts.

“Sweetheart, you’re soaked,” Mommy said, “I need to change you before you leak. Lay down for mommy.”

“B-Buh mommy,” I stammered, “people will see…”

“Well baby,” mommy gently yet firmly guided me down to the ground with a hand on my shoulder, “people would definitely see if you wet your shorts and you had to walk around in only a diaper. Is that what you want, little one?”

“N-no mommy.”

“Then be a good boy for mommy, and behave during your changie, okay?”

“O-okay mommy.”

Mommy unbuckled and pulled my shorts down to my ankles as if this were as casual to her as rummaging through her purse for something. I could feel the tomato-red blush singe my cheeks.

To my dismay, a couple waking their dog sauntered by on the walking path at the edge of the park. If they hadn’t seen me before, they definitely noticed when the loud plasticky rip of my diaper tapes came undone.

Tears started to well up in my eyes, as I saw the woman glance over at me, quickly followed by her partner.

“Hey. Hey, baby,” Mommy recaptured my attention, “shhh it’s okay. We don’t know them, and they don’t know us.”

I nodded, but the tears in my eyes didn’t go away.

“Shhhh,” Mommy soothed me again, “look at me. Look at Mommy. I’m going to take care of you. That means changing your diapers when they need changing, and that also means protecting you from the big scary world when you need it, okay? I won’t let anything or anyone hurt my baby, okay?”

As I saw her trademark smile grace her face, the tears in my eyes subsided. I didn’t have to worry. I was with Mommy!

“O-okay Mommy.”

“That’s a good boy!” Mommy beamed.

I loved her so much.

Before I knew it the diaper change was over, and my shorts were back around my waist, once again covering my babyish padding. Mommy was right, all I had to do was trust her.

“You were so good today,” mommy commented as she strapped me back into my car seat, “how about some ice cream as a treat for my good boy?”

“YAYYY ICE CREAM!” I enthusiastically agreed.

Mommy kissed my forehead, “and next week we can explore the Aquarium! Getting changed in a family bathroom should be nothing to you after this!”

I blushed but still managed to smile. To my surprise I was actually looking forward to all of Mommy’s adventures that the future held. I knew as long as she was there to take care of me, I would be okay.

——————————————

Gurgle, gurgle… Blag-rgh-rgh-rrr… Mumm-mumm…

The young woman babbled mindlessly on, here in her neatly cordoned-off gaming corner. Surrounded by her pastel blankets and pillows and stuffies, she looked every bit the part of a toddler trapped in the body of a twenty-year-old. Her form-fitting little top, flat chest, knee socks, and rustling diaper weren’t exactly doing anything to dispel the illusion, either. But what was perhaps most disturbing of all was the vacant expression in her wide, staring eyes.

She was not altogether there anymore.

Oh, it hadn’t all happened at once. A heated summer romance had turned out badly for her, that was all. In the aftermath, and from the very ex she had already begun to block out of her mind, came a penitent little gift one day: a peace offering of sorts. It was the very game that she had pined after for months now - though oddly enough her ex had always thought it was far too stupid and immature for a grown-up…

Well, perhaps they’d changed their mind.

It hadn’t taken long for her to get hopelessly addicted to it. The game was just so cute, and so much damn fun! Hour after hour had flown past. As a student she had had the summer off anyway, and with current circumstances as they were, well… It wasn’t like she’d had anything better to do, like make sourdough bread or cut her hair.

So absorbed in her game she’d become that she never even noticed the whispering little voice that persisted through every moment of her game. It had been there from the start, and in the rare moments she noticed it, she simply wrote it off as part of the ambience. Just an in-game voice, soft and soothing and sibilant…

She didn’t think twice when she had the brilliant idea of turning the corner into a little gaming area. Pillows were cute and soft. Oh, and so were those stuffies she’d seen on Etsy! Ooh, and she might as well kick back and relax in whatever clothes she happened to wear - or not wear. Why not get comfortable and let it all go?

When the first package of oversized diapers arrived in the mail, she hadn’t really understood why. Had she actually ordered them? She supposed she must have. They seemed like a silly idea - but then again, they were so cute, just like her game. Hey, wouldn’t it be such a laugh if she tried one on just for fun?

And so things had progressed - until today. Today being the day when she finally got that final in-game achievement, the last star to complete her island. It was everything she’d ever wanted, the culmination of weeks of labor… But curiously, as soon as the screen had lit up with the congratulatory confetti and trophy, she’d heard a whispered phrase, and slipped limply backward onto her pillows, feeling as if a little switch had been switched off within her brain…

***

So here she was now, a babbling wreck, gurgling and cooing in what was already a visibly used diaper. Whether she would ever be able to revert back to her former self would be hard to say. Perhaps her ex might have been able to offer a clue - if they could be found…

Video games would rot the brain, so her mom had used to tell her all those years ago. But what ever would she have said if she could see her dear, helpless, brainwashed daughter now?

Image Credit: ABDreams.com

Gurgle, gurgle… Blag-rgh-rgh-rrr… Mumm-mumm…

The young woman babbled mindlessly on, here in her neatly cordoned-off gaming corner. Surrounded by her pastel blankets and pillows and stuffies, she looked every bit the part of a toddler trapped in the body of a twenty-year-old. Her form-fitting little top, flat chest, knee socks, and rustling diaper weren’t exactly doing anything to dispel the illusion, either. But what was perhaps most disturbing of all was the vacant expression in her wide, staring eyes.

She was not altogether there anymore.

Oh, it hadn’t all happened at once. A heated summer romance had turned out badly for her, that was all. In the aftermath, and from the very ex she had already begun to block out of her mind, came a penitent little gift one day: a peace offering of sorts. It was the very game that she had pined after for months now - though oddly enough her ex had always thought it was far too stupid and immature for a grown-up…

Well, perhaps they’d changed their mind.

It hadn’t taken long for her to get hopelessly addicted to it. The game was just so cute, and so much damn fun! Hour after hour had flown past. As a student she had had the summer off anyway, and with current circumstances as they were, well… It wasn’t like she’d had anything better to do, like make sourdough bread or cut her hair.

So absorbed in her game she’d become that she never even noticed the whispering little voice that persisted through every moment of her game. It had been there from the start, and in the rare moments she noticed it, she simply wrote it off as part of the ambience. Just an in-game voice, soft and soothing and sibilant…

She didn’t think twice when she had the brilliant idea of turning the corner into a little gaming area. Pillows were cute and soft. Oh, and so were those stuffies she’d seen on Etsy! Ooh, and she might as well kick back and relax in whatever clothes she happened to wear - or not wear. Why not get comfortable and let it all go?

When the first package of oversized diapers arrived in the mail, she hadn’t really understood why. Had she actually ordered them? She supposed she must have. They seemed like a silly idea - but then again, they were so cute, just like her game. Hey, wouldn’t it be such a laugh if she tried one on just for fun?

And so things had progressed - until today. Today being the day when she finally got that final in-game achievement, the last star to complete her island. It was everything she’d ever wanted, the culmination of weeks of labor… But curiously, as soon as the screen had lit up with the congratulatory confetti and trophy, she’d heard a whispered phrase, and slipped limply backward onto her pillows, feeling as if a little switch had been switched off within her brain…

***

So here she was now, a babbling wreck, gurgling and cooing in what was already a visibly used diaper. Whether she would ever be able to revert back to her former self would be hard to say. Perhaps her ex might have been able to offer a clue - if they could be found…

Video games would rot the brain, so her mom had used to tell her all those years ago. But what ever would she have said if she could see her dear, helpless, brainwashed daughter now?

Image Credit: ABDreams.com

(GIF removed 7/24/2022 for being too spicy for Tumblr to handle. Check out the full uncensored version on my Wordpress!)

(GIF re-uploaded 11/7/2022 to see how Tumblr's new policy treats it.)

Read Part One Here!

Oh, but that isn't the end. Not by a long shot.

Your mind is still spinning lazily within the dreamy, pastel world of orgasm into which your partner has lovingly thrust you. Only slowly do you become aware of your surroundings: not merely of the seductively musical rustle of the disposable diaper between your splayed legs, and your partner's low, delighted chuckling… but of the many other sensations that accompany your unorthodox love-making.

There's the shaky intake of your breath. The slick wetness of your own thumb, still firmly tucked between your drool-sticky lips. The weight of your partner's delightfully smooth ass, resting ever so naturally atop your outspread thighs. And yes: now the quiet, repetitive creak of the bedframe as her weight shifts above you, over and over and over…

"Oh, darling. Such a good baby for me. Such a good, good baby… making that sweet, cummy little mess in your pampers for me…"

You blink, staring eyes glancing down past your comforting thumb and clenched fist. Your gaze connects with your partner: her delicious waist, her own unabashedly wide-spread thighs, and the sleek black panties that conceal the intimate secret of her womanhood. She's easing her weight forward, lowering herself down, smiling mysteriously… and slipping inexorably, irresistibly down onto the thick, still-bulging front of your diaper.

"That's perfect," she murmurs, and in her voice you hear the catch of longing stronger than ever. "That's exactly what you should do for me from now on, honey. No more cumming like a big boy. Not anymore…" She draws breath, her beautiful breasts swelling beneath her low-cut nightgown. "You only get to do that in your diaper from now on, sweetie. It's what you want, after all! And remember…" She flashes a pleasure-drunk smile full into your upturned eyes. "It's what I want, too."

You're still floating in little space, half awake and half regressed. But the words she says strike a chord somewhere deep within you, and your eyelids slip closed once more in quiet acquiescence, your suckling redoubling. Yes, Princess. Yes. You want me this way. I obey. I good boy. Good baby. Such good baby…

"Lay still for me now, darling," she orders – rather unnecessarily, for in your limp state you're no more likely to squirm free than you are to sprout wings and fly. "You've had your fun. You've made a nice, sticky mess in your diaper… just like I wanted you to. And now…" The pressure atop your padded groin is increasing now, the rhythm of her grinding slowly accelerating. "Now it's time for your Princess to have her own fun. Fun playing with her adorable little toy…"

Toy? Yes, toy. Me boy toy. Baby boy toy. Sticky, messy boy toy. Your mind has given up all semblance of coherence now, the words spinning dreamily in no apparent need to connect with anything. Now and again a phrase or handful of sounds seems to coalesce from the chaos, but just as you seem on the verge of generating your own full-blown sentence, another ecstatic murmur from your partner fills your ears and overwhelms your wandering mind.

"God, you're so cute like this," she articulates, and her breathing is growing ever more labored. "You like that? You like it when you feel your Princess rubbing your willie in your diaper?" She laughs, and in the sound you hear nothing but unadulterated desire. "I bet you do! Aww, it must be such a strange feeling, sweetie. Being so very close to the Princess you love so much… and yet, you know… being trapped in that adorable diaper!"

The bed is rocking gently beneath you, a lullaby fueled by your partner's passionate arousal. Just as pleasure sent you sinking down into helpless little space, she's now caught in an updraft of passion – rocketing up into top space, with every moment becoming more possessive… dominant… condescending. "You're all locked away now, baby!" she taunts, and you shiver and nod beneath her in blind agreement. "I've got you all wrapped up: nice and tight and snug, like the sweetest, stickiest little present. And you're not getting out. No way. Not when I'm in charge…"

Yes, yes- Princess- in charge-

"You please me- So much…" she manages, and now her voice is edged with the fierce authority of unadulterated lust. "You're my dumb- adorable- baby. You're gonna lie here, and you're gonna let Princess ride you. Ohhh-" Her hips are slipping back and forth, back and forth with increasing vigor, and the ssshick-ssshick of her grinding against your infantile padding accompanies every word. "And you- you can't do anything to stop me, baby! No, you can't. You're- you're gonna lie there- nice and sweet and quiet- uuunnnhhhhh-! Sucking on your thumb… Like the most adorable- helpless- dumb little baby-!"

She's close now – and the tiny corner of your mind that is still a full-grown man is tingling with the conviction that she needs you. You long to help her, to do anything and everything to bring her to the pinnacle of pleasure. You don't even have the words for it, but that doesn't matter. You feel her primal urgency, her need, her lust for you. And yet… you are her baby now. Which means that the only thing you can do to help your Princess is lie still. Suckle. Lie here with all the innocent and mindless naivete of an infant, letting her ride you and use you and shamelessly pleasure herself upon the bulge of your pampers and the wilting, sticky cock trapped within…

She's your Princess, after all.

Image Credit: @abdreams

"Oh, sweetie… you really are just a hopeless little baby, aren't you?"

Your mind is floating in a dreamy space, babbling with all the sycophantic intensity of the mindless submissive you know you are. Yes- yes, Princess- Yes I am! Just a silly, hopeless little baby for you-

The smile in your partner's low, breathy voice intensifies – as does the pressure of her seductive kneading at the straining front of your fresh diaper. "Such a sweet, helpless little man… actually begging me to make him into my little baby." She chuckles softly, and your lips tighten around your thumb, suckling with ever-greater intensity as her words twine their seductive way into your hormone-soaked brain. Yes, yes I'm begging you. I want that- I want you to make me into a baby-

"Remember when you first told me your naughty little secret?" She pauses for only a split second – long enough to arrest your veering attention, yet short enough to remind you, without even saying as much, that she no longer expects her thumbsucking little man-baby to even attempt an answer. "Oh, you were so embarrassed! And so worried that you wouldn't be able to perform… That you'd become so used to having naughty fun in your diapers that not even a naked woman would be able to get you excited. Or at least, excited enough to cum inside her like a real man should…"

Why- why is she saying this? You're shivering, suddenly anxious at the idea that maybe you need to be your big adult self for her. You do need to be her man, after all. You've always needed to be – to balance your little side with your adult commitments and your grown-up sex life…

And then her next words put your anxieties to rest once more.

"Such silly worries were in that sweet head of yours!" Her kneading of your crinkling crotch slips now into a steady, rhythmic stroking that draws a plaintive little moan from your suckling lips. "Oh, sweetie… you definitely didn't need to worry about that. You know how to please me in bed better than anyone else, after all."

I- I please you? Yes, I mean, I try- I really try-

She bends forward, her string of pearls swaying provocatively over her tantalizing cleavage. "But sweetie, I've got a little confession to make. I've been thinking lately… and as much as you turn me on when you're a great big strong man for me, well…"

Your partner trails off, and your eyes blink open, peering up at her over the clenched hand lodged in your mouth. "See, it's these adorable diapers of yours, honey! They're just so thick and pretty and cute… and just so right for a wee little man-baby like you." She giggles, and another moan, louder than before, escapes you as you feel her hands caressing your amply padded crotch with renewed intensity, her fingers forcing the padding tighter against your straining cock. Your eyes squeeze closed once more, your submissive brain babbling once more in agreement. Yes, yes- Yes, Princess! So right, so perfect for me-

"And so… I've made up my mind." Her tone is so sweet, so deliberate, so gently condescending that you almost lose control just from her words alone. "Sweetie, I never thought I'd say this. But I really think I've come to prefer you in diapers. You belong in them, after all. You love them, you dream about them, you look so incredibly cute in them…" She giggles gently, and now your hips are thrusting with soft crinkles of desperation toward her magical hands. "And pretty soon, if we do things just right… well, you just might come to need them."

Your brain is melting, afire with longing and desire and the fierce blaze of your love for this woman. She's dominating you… teasing you… Lovingly regressing you with all the gentle force of a mother coaxing her restive toddler into obedience. She does know best, you realize. She does get to decide. And if she decides that it's best for you to- to-

"I want you to need them, darling," she breathes, and you shudder and let out a gurgling moan of humiliated pleasure behind your thumb. "I want to diaper train my little man-baby. I want to make you so utterly, adorably dependent on your diapers that…" A shaky sigh escapes her heaving chest and parted lips, and the beautiful sound alerts your hormone-soaked brain that she too is becoming achingly horny. "…That in the end, you won't be able to cum any other way!"

As the orgasm explodes within you and your limbs convulse and writhe beneath her in ecstasy, you are deaf to all. All, that is, but the two sounds that for you now embody the very essence of love and sexuality…

The soft crinkle of your now cum-spattered diaper. And the low, musical laughter of the woman you love more than anyone else in the entire world.

Image Credit: @abdreams

There is no mistaking her intent as she straddles you; no ambiguity in her eyes.

She loves this.

Your bulging, soggy, overworked diaper squishes to accommodate her body. You tremble as you feel her, remembering exactly how it felt when there wasn’t a diaper between you and her.

Exactly what she wants.

“Uh oh, mister!” she says in that grating, horrifically condescending tone, “Feels like someone has soggy woggy diapee! Does my little man need changies?”