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Lookin’ cute babe 😍

@jdiaperh @jdiaperh @jdiaperh

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Steady, As She Goes

No, no, no.

You couldn’t even make it three blocks.

She turns around, wondering why you suddenly stopped.

“Uh oh, do I see a poopoo face? Are you going poopoo in your diapie?”

“Mghff”

“Awww! You’re so stinking cute! Go on, baby, push all those icky stinkies into your diapie! I’m so proud of you!”

That makes one of you.

Proud isn’t how you’d describe the situation. Not when you’re squatting down and pooping yourself in public.

“Mgpgggh.”

“Sounds like a big pushie wushie! No wonder you couldn’t wait, cutie! But that’s why you’re diapered, isn’t it? Yes it is!”

“Sto—mpgghh.”

She smiles, rubbing your back.

“Don’t be embarrassed! You can’t help it! No hims can’t! You’re not my big stwong man anymore! Nuh uh, you’re my baby boy!”

Hard to argue when warm mush invades your diaper.

“Yes, you are! You said ‘bye bye potty training!’ Huh, baby? No more potties for you! Momma tapes on your crinkly potty now!”

“Mgggphh.”

“Wow, still making pushies?! That’s okay, honeybuns! All you have to do today is take a nap and have fun! You have all the time in the world.”

You’re well aware.

Your life as her baby boy didn’t end with diapers—it started with them. Who would’ve guessed this is how she’d put her trust fund to use?

To finance your new place in life.

She insisted her baby shouldn’t work. It wouldn’t be “fair” to your coworkers to be on diaper duty.

“All done, baby? Do you need to catch your breath? You did so good! Let me check that tushie of yours.”

You’re still huffing as she peels back your diaper and peeks in.

“Oh, honey, can you take Momma’s hand? We need to get you home.”

“Wh-why?”

“Your poor diapie couldn’t hold all your poopoo, baby. It might be time to switch to your nini diapies full time.”

Not those.

Anything but those.

“Please no! Please, Momma!”

You don’t care how you sound. As long as you don’t wear those diapers.

“Honey…you’ll wear what Momma decides. You don’t get choices anymore. Besides, you’ll look so cute waddling in your thick diapies!”

“But—.”

“Hush, baby, you shouldn’t worry what adults think of you. Now, let’s get that tush home before your poopy blowout gets any worse, okay? You can complain all you want during your bath.”

“Hmphff.”

“You’re adorable, diaperbutt. Take Momma’s hand. Good boy.”

You feel your sagging diaper drooping dangerously low. All you can do is hope it doesn’t get any worse on the way home.

But as you turn a corner, you see your neighbors waving to you…

Ugh.

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Sometimes the hottest, safest, bestest place in the whole world is daddy's big belly. Dada can be such a piggy, can't he?

A little hypno tune for boys who hump away to fantasies of Daddy getting so, so, so much fatter -- while he keeps you in diapers like you deserve.

Let the spiral melt your big boy brain away...

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Second half of my dirty little princess receiving an enema from mommy ❤️😍 Any ideas on what I should do to my helpless little baby next? 😈😉

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Reblog if you like diapers 🍼

OR

If you want a sweet, mean mommy with big boobies who loves to have them sucked and take care of you but has no interest in having sex because, let's be honest, it's so much easier and funnier to make you cum in your Pampers 💞

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The only way.

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🤐😵‍💫🤤

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Looking for a place to sit 👀

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What's worse than wetting diapers for a cruel algorithm? Wetting diapers for two cruel algorithms!

I've posted a new chapter @ https://subscribestar.adult/posts/1641620

Here's a short preview:

“Bet you like piss too, don’t you?” Will grunted, as he stepped towards me with the wet diaper moving towards my face. 

“W-wait,” I gulped. Sure, I’d long associated the smell of wet diapers with being horny but I’d never been pushed like this with another guy’s diapers.

“Be quiet,” he barked, “and get on your knees. These tapes have to go back on before it warns me.”

One of his hands grasped my shoulder, and in my submissive state, unable to make a decision I simply kneeled for him as he draped the wet diaper over the top of my head, and then quickly found a way to pull and fasten the tapes around my face, resealing the diaper. It felt warm, obviously damp, and stunk of another man’s urine. I was straining inside my own diaper. 

I felt Will step away, with silence for a brief moment before he laughed out loud, darkly, and explained that the app was happy that this diaper was being worn. My heart started to beat faster. If the app was satisfied with it where it was, it was allowing Will to take a break, for as long as he wanted. I didn’t want to be stuck with my face tightly pressed against a hot, wet diaper for long, but I wondered if I had the nerve to fight back.

“Fucking diaper boys,” Will then growled, as he held one hand firmly on top of my head, holding it in place with a crinkle. I felt something push its way inside, between my hair and the diaper, and realised quickly it was his cock as he stood still and I felt splashes of piss spill onto my scalp and trickle down my forehead. 

I whimpered, involuntarily, and his hands kept me firmly in place as he voided his bladder. 

“Shhhhh… sit still, diaper boy,” he soothed me. “We can change you after this.”

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How Mommy says bye to her little cucky before going out with friends🥺

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I Write Sins Not Tragedies

“Let me get this straight. After all your begging and pleading you want to go back to the way things were? And what? Pretend none of this ever happened?

More than anything you’ve ever wanted.

“I don’t think so, buddy. You made your bed, now lie in it.”

You look into her eyes, searching for hope. Any sign of mercy. Of the love you used to share.

“Please,” you beg, “I’m sorry. I don’t want this anymore. I want you. Only you! I’ll never wear another diaper in my life if that’s what it takes!”

“You don’t get it, do you? It’s too late for that. This isn’t a game anymore—this is real. You’re getting everything you wanted.”

And lost only woman you ever loved.

“I…I was wrong. Please, Mary. I…I need you!”

Her chortle cuts through you like glass.

“Are you kidding? I did everything you wanted. I put you in diapers 24/7. I denied you sex. I…I even had sex with some random dude for you…”

She pauses, clearly struggling.

“I did it because I loved you. I literally wiped poop off your butt. I stopped having sex with the man I loved most. I broke my vow—the one I made to you on our wedding day—to forsake all others. For you. Because I loved you. I wanted you to be happy!”

The weight of her feelings threatens to crush you.

“I was selfish! I was…so…so dumb! Mary, please! You have to understand. You’ll never have to do any of that again! We can fix this!”

“No, we can’t. You’re not getting it. I don’t want to have sex with you ever again. Did you really expect me to be sexually attracted to you after all this?”

You never considered it at all. All in the pursuit of your kinks.

“Don’t say that! You’ll remember how things were after all the diapers are gone and things go back to normal. This isn’t the real me!”

“But that’s the thing…this is the real you. This is who you really are. The diapers. The denial. You were just pretending before.”

“I wasn’t pretending! I was—I am—that man you married! They’re just kinks! I don’t need them!”

“Well it doesn’t matter, does it? Just because you got all turned on seeing me in my bikini and decided you regret asking for this—doesn’t mean I want to be with you. They’re a self-fulfilling prophecy.”

“But I want to be with you! Please!”

“Well…,” she says slowly, playing with her bikini, “I have missed you. Missed you inside me. It’s been so long…Oh, screw it, let’s go upstairs.”

You’ve never moved faster in your life.

“Okay! You won’t regret it, I promise!”

She reaches out her hand. You grab it, intertwining your fingers. Her touch—the implication—is short-circuiting your brain.

You’re about to have sex with the woman of your dreams for the first time in months.

You missed her more than you ever imagined. Sure, it was fun at first. Having her tell you “no.” But it got old fast.

Denial was hot—she was hotter.

You practically carry her upstairs, tossing her down on the bed, leaning over her. Doing everything you can to show her you’re the man she married.

Until you lean in to kiss her.

“Wowww, you really are dumb. What part of ‘I have absolutely no sexual attraction to you’ do you not understand?”

You fall to the bed, humiliated and overwhelmed.

“So, what now?” you ask, voice cracking pathetically, terrified of the answer, “Are you going to divorce me?”

“Divorce? Who said anything about divorce, silly? No, we’re not breaking up. Someone needs to pay the bills!”

“I’m not going to ju—,” you start before she interrupts you.

“You’ll do whatever I say, honey. You’re getting everything you ever wanted. You’ll spend the rest of your life in diapers, desperately horny for me. So pathetically horny. Just what you begged for. Hopelessly and permanently sexless. Isn’t that the dream? And you can drive me to and from my dates, rubbing your diaper when I’m gone imagining your warm padding is me.”

You’ve imagined this so many times, but now that it’s here, you’re terrified.

“And if I say no?”

She giggles. “You won’t, baby. Because you wouldn’t want all your silly little pictures sent far and wide would you? Whether you stay or go—you’ll never have sex again.”

The reality of truly becoming that pathetic, sexless diaper boy isn’t so hot—when it’s staring you in the face.

Not like you have any choice in the matter.

“You’re going to live your out your life as your authentic self! I really hope you remember what I look like naked, cause you’ll never see that again.”

She gets up, laughing.

“Oh, this is going to be so very fun!”

You got everything you ever wanted.

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I wonder how many of you pathetic diaper loving littles are virgins, hm? Your hand and wet padding don't count, either.

If mommy let you out of your diaper, gave you the opportunity, would you even know the first thing to do? No? Keep the diaper on, peanut.

spicy pics & writing

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6 months

 Daddy walked into the nursery, a warm smile playing on his lips. In the center of the room sat his little boy, pouting and squirming on the floor in his playpen, his diaper bulging noticeably.

“Aw, what’s the matter, little guy?” Daddy cooed, leaning over the playpen. “Why the long face?”

The little boy looked up, his cheeks turning a deeper shade of red. “It’s been half a year, Daddy,” he whined, his voice tinged with frustration. “I’m tired of being locked up like this. It’s not fair!”

Daddy chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Oh, sweetie, you know better than to complain about your special treatment. You’re Daddy’s little boy, and little boys get locked up.”

“But Daddy,” the little boy started, his voice rising slightly, “it’s so hard! I feel so...so...”

“Helpless? Pathetic?” Daddy finished for him, his tone dripping with teasing amusement. “Is that what you feel, little one? Completely dependent on Daddy for everything?” The little boy nodded, his eyes filling with a mix of frustration and embarrassment.

“That’s the whole point, sweety,” Daddy said, reaching into the playpen to ruffle the boy’s hair. “You’re not supposed to think about those adult things. You’ve been locked up in your diapers for half a year because Daddy knows what’s best for you. Little boys like you need to focus on being cute and obedient, not on silly things like cummies.”

The boy squirmed more, his frustration evident. “But Daddy, it’s not fair! I miss feeling...you know...grown-up.” Daddy’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Oh, I know exactly what you’re missing, sweetheart. But being a grown-up isn’t in the cards for you anymore, is it? Not when you’re in thick, crinkly diapers 24/7, unable to keep them dry or clean for more than a few moments. The little boy’s protests died in his throat, replaced by a soft, defeated whimper.

“That’s what I thought,” Daddy said with a satisfied smile. “Now, how about we get you into a fresh diaper?” Daddy laid his little boy down on the changing table, the thick, crinkly diaper ready beside him. He began to untape the soggy diaper, cooing softly. “Alright, little one, I have a special offer for you,” Daddy said, his tone dripping with amusement.

The little boy looked up, curious and hopeful. “W-What is it, Daddy?”

Daddy smirked, holding up a small, smooth suppository. “I’ll unlock your little peepee, but only if you ask nicely for this. Can you do that, sweetie?”

The boy's eyes widened, a mix of embarrassment and desperation flashing across his face. He squirmed, his cheeks burning. "Please, Daddy," he whispered, his voice trembling. "Please give me a suppository.“ Daddy's grin widened as he reached for the suppository. "Good boy," he said, his tone dripping with amusement. "Now, let's get you all fixed up.“ A few minutes later, the little boy was back on the floor, the suppository already working its magic. He began to hump the shark, the thick diaper pressing against him with each pathetic thrust.

As he continued, the little boy felt his tummy rumble, and he let out a small whimper. The suppository was doing its job, and soon enough, he messed his diaper. but it didn't stop his desperate humping. He clung to the shark, grinding against it, his movements becoming more frantic. Daddy watched from the side, arms crossed and a smirk playing on his lips. "Look at you, such a messy little boy," he teased. "Can't even control yourself for a moment, can you?"

The little boy didn't respond, too lost in his need. After a few more seconds of frantic humping, he climaxed, his body shuddering with the release. He collapsed onto the floor, panting heavily, his messy diaper squishing beneath him. Daddy chuckled softly. "Well, that was quick. Such a pathetic little boy, aren't you?“ Daddy stepped closer, ruffling the boy’s hair. “Now, you get to have fun in your poopy pampers for the rest of the day. Enjoy yourself, sweetheart.”

photo credit and thanky you for this idea :) @justalittletotheleft

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Sticking you in thick rimmed glasses, a retainer, and suspenders so tight they pull your cargo shorts tight against your sagging diaper.

“Ignore the people making fun of you, hm? You’re mommy’s perfect little dork” 💕

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You asked for this, sweetie.

You were the one who asked for training panties, remember? Early this morning, when Daddy told you about his friends coming over for the holiday party? Oh, how you pouted! You even threw your stuffie and spit our your paci. And believe me, when my little Maggie actually drops those, Daddy knows something's wrong.

Except it wasn't. Not really.

"Aww, Daddy – I'm not a baby! I can be a big girl!" Those were your exact words, babydoll. Words which Daddy couldn't help but smile at. Especially since they were coming from the bratty mouth of a young woman, lying prone on her crinkling bed with splayed legs, while her Daddy-hubbie wiped the nightly sheen of urine from her smooth-shaven crotch.

Not a baby? Oh, sweetie. You wish, perhaps. But that loaded diaper pail in the corner begs to differ. So do those stacks of fresh diapers and boosters and plastic pants filling half of your entire dresser. So does the pacifier you unthinkingly accepted into your mouth from Daddy's hand not a minute later. And so does the very air of your room, filled as it is with the powdery scent of lotion and talcum and the faintest whiff of bodily waste.

You're a baby in everything but mind, sweetie. And let's be honest: Daddy knows that's exactly how you want it, deep down.

So Daddy didn't pay you the slightest mind. He's learned well how to avoid your bratty kicks, to maneuver those booster-filled diapers underneath your squirming bum. He knows the low octave of command, the stern clipping of syllables needed to make you whimper down into pacified, doubtful-eyed submission.

And yes. He also knows how sweetly gullible you are. Which is why he sweetly promised you as he worked that he'd let you wear your training pants to the party.

So on they went: those two MegaMax diapers, each stuffed with their own bulk-adding, thirsty booster. It gave Daddy such a quiet thrill, seeing you reach down those trembling bare fingers between your splayed legs to touch their massive bulk. Oh, those adorable eyes of yours! Widening above your dummy-filled mouth… filling with fear and shame… dropping down to take in the massive, glossy bulge of infantile shame forcing apart your thighs…

"Almost perfect." That's what Daddy said, and that's what Daddy meant. But almost isn't good enough – not for your Daddy. He knew there was something missing, even after he pulled your cotton T-shirt over your head and down to cover your petite breasts. And it was this special something that would put his darling little Maggie's outfit over the top.

"Where are you going, little Waddle-Butt? Come here. Daddy promised you something, don't you remember?"

Oh, the look on your face when you turned back and saw Daddy, holding out those girly training panties you'd begged so hard to wear! There he knelt on the carpet, holding them open expectantly. He was inviting you to take your waddling steps forward, to raise one clumsy bare foot, to slide your naked leg through, down into that thickly padded cotton mockery of underwear…

You shuddered. You glanced into Daddy's eyes and saw the sadistic twinkle. You saw, too, the set of his jaw, the determination he had to tolerate no resistance. And so, you gulped. You lifted one leg, and then the other.

And oh, how Daddy cooed and cheered as he tugged them on! How his low voice rumbled in your ear as that padded cotton jerked upward, straining and stretching over the balloon-like bulk of your babyish butt! He was soothing you, congratulating you, telling you what a good idea it was for you to wear your training panties. They looked so cute, after all. So adorable. So exactly like what a baby princess should wear.

Yes, that's what Daddy told you. What he didn't tell you was how his breath caught upon seeing your wondering gaze. How his groin twitched and ached as you tugged the pacifier free from your rosy, glistening mouth to protest. How his hungry eyes followed your soft, shaking hand as it slid down, down, down over the humiliating bulge of your now even more swollen and babyish rump. How his entire being shivered with longing at the sight of you: his partner, aghast and mortified at the dawning realization of what Daddy has given her.

Because he'd given you exactly what you'd asked for. He hadn't lied. He'd merely exercised his grown-up discretion in the most delightfully sadistic of ways. Sure, as his darling you could beg and plead to wear what you thought would be more discreet. But Daddy will do everything in his power to make sure you knew your place. You're the baby in this relationship, after all. And there is absolutely nothing wrong with that.

In fact, Daddy will make it crystal-clear once more. Feel his hand now, dropping firm and comforting onto your shoulder. Here is his soft whisper in your ear: warm with masculine amusement, but not nearly loud enough to drown out the sound of the ringing doorbell and the burst of his friends' laughter outside.

"Sweetie, don't worry. You look simply… perfect."

Image Credit: ABDreams.com

Be sure to check out my Ream Stories if you want to read more of my naughty fiction!