#mellowsadistic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mellowsadistic · 8 months

Text

“That’s it, baby, let it all out,” I cooed. “Have a big cry. Daddy's here, little girl." I stroked my wife's hair gently while she bawled her eyes out like a two-year-old, sat on the floor of our bedroom wearing nothing but her sopping wet diaper.

She gasped in big lungfuls of air, her bare chest heaving with every shaky breath. “You… did something… to me!” she said between hiccups, batting my hand away and glaring at me accusingly. It seemed that I'd finally been found out.

"What did I do to you, sweetheart?" I asked softly.

"You... turned me... into... a cry... baby!" she sobbed, almost hyperventilating now, her words barely intelligible. "You... want me... like this!"

“That's right, darling," I said, and I saw her tear-filled eyes widen in surprise at my ready confession. "I want to be your Daddy. I want to take care of you. But you've always been so strong and independent. I knew I had to do something to change that, so I used some special hypnosis files, hidden in that night-time background music you like to listen to, to erode your emotional control. It's the same technique I used to take away your potty training.”

She looked at me in horror, but I just chuckled and reached out to stroke her tear-stained cheek lovingly with the back of my fingers. “It’s so sweet that you can’t control when you go pee-pee or poo-poo anymore." I patted the front of her soggy diaper. “And you look so pretty in your princess nappy!”

“You did this to me?” my wife whispered, so shocked that her wracking sobs had come to a halt. Her hand drifted down to the huge disposable diaper bulging between her thighs. "You made me need these?"

"Yes, baby," I said. "I thought making you incontinent would be enough, but even then you were still trying to be self-sufficient; insisting on changing your own nappies, refusing to let me comfort you after an accident. So now you're going to be emotionally incontinent as well, sweetie. No more bottling things up. No more self-control. When you get even the slightest bit upset about something, you'll be in tears."

“But whyyy?!” she wailed, her sobbing returning in full force. "Why did you... do this... to me?!"

“It’s not good for girls to hold in their feelings,” I said, running my fingers through her hair again. She seemed too appalled by what I was saying to even notice. “It’s so much cuter, so much more feminine, when you lose control and have a little meltdown instead.”

“But I don’t… want to be… like this!” she cried.

“I know, darling,” I said soothingly, “but this is how I want you. Daddy knows best. Being a tearful toddler suits you much better than being an adult woman. In any case, there's no undoing the effects of the hypnosis now, little one. I made sure it was completely permanent."

“No!” she wailed, bouncing on her wet bottom and beating her fists impotently against the floor. “It's not fair! I wanna be a grown-up! I wanna use the toilet! I don't wanna be a stupid crybaby! I don't wanna! I don't wanna!" Her words trailed off into incoherent blubbering as she devolved into a massive temper tantrum.

I couldn't help but smile. She looked so adorable! "Hush now, princess," I cooed, shoving a large pink pacifier between my wife's lips. Her mewling was cut off abruptly, and she started sucking on it at once - another product of the hypnosis files. She was left sniffling and whimpering quietly, her dummy bobbing rhythmically in her mouth. "Now I know you're very upset because Daddy turned you into a big baby," I said, pushing her back gently onto the floor, "but I'm sure a nice dry diaper will have you feeling better in no time. Legs up, baby! It's time for you to let Daddy take care of everything."

#mellowsadistic

1K notes · View notes

mellowsadistic · 2 months

Text

There’s nothing @crinklecutie likes more than squishing about in a thoroughly used diaper, except maybe for the special rub-rubs she gets to have in them if she’s been good. She’s such a randy little thing! The moment she’s done pooping her pants, her first instinct is to look around for something to start humping - usually one of her poor stuffies. It’s so sweet how all her dignity disappears when she gets excited. She looks adorable when she’s having 'big girl playtime' in her messy nappy, but if there’s one thing that’s even cuter, it’s hearing her cry out, “Choo-choo! Here comes the cummie train! Next stop, my Pampies!”

#mellowsadistic

705 notes · View notes

mellowsadistic · 2 months

Text

"Mmmmmm!"

"You hush, little girl!" Veronica's mother snapped, bringing the hairbrush down again on her daughter's rapidly reddening backside. "And don't you glare at me like that! I am your mother, young lady, and you will learn to treat me with respect by the time your regression punishment is over!"

Veronica squealed behind her pacifier again as another stinging blow landed on her rear.

Over on the bed, Kylie mewled in fear around her own soother, knowing she'd be next over her auntie's knee. Why had she agreed to sneak out and go partying with her cousin? Her aunt had made it quite plain there was to be no drinking, smoking, or any other 'inappropriate' activities as long as she was living under her roof, but ever since she'd moved in to attend the nearby college, she'd been desperate for a bit of adult excitement.

"Bad girl, Ronnie!" Veronica's mother scolded, delivering swat after swat with the hairbrush. "Very bad girl! You are not a grown-up. I don't care if you're legally an adult! I decide when you get to grow up, not you!"

Kylie would've felt bad for her poor cousin, twenty-one years old and kicking her legs and crying over her mother's knee, if she wasn't more worried about her own hiney. Veronica had lived with those infantilizing rules, along with many others, her whole life. She wasn't even allowed to dress herself in the mornings! Her mother picked all her clothes for her, and she even had a number of outfits specifically designed for punishments, like the kind the two girls were wearing now...

"Six months under toddler rules, Ronnie! You know what that means!"

"Nnnnnn!"

"Yes, little girl! You will wear pull-ups at all times. No more using the toilet for tinkle! You will wet yourself the moment you feel the urge, and you will ask permission, politely, to be escorted to the potty to do your number twos when you need to go. You will wear childish clothes. You will go to bed at eight o' clock. And the same goes for you, young lady!"

Kylie wet her pants a little in fright as her auntie's head snapped around to look in her direction.

"Some time as a toddler ought to do my naughty little niece some good too!"

Kylie whimpered. She could feel the warm, slightly soggy padding pressing against her crotch. It was awful and disgusting and babyish, and the thought that it would become a familiar feeling, that she would be peeing herself every day for the next six months, not to mention being supervised on the toilet while she pooped, made her almost faint with embarrassment.

Veronica had started to bawl. Whatever dignity or resistance she'd tried to hold onto at the beginning of her spanking had gone, and she was left wailing like a little girl, her dummy dropping from her lips as she pleaded. "P'ease, Mama! I sowwy! P'ease dobbit! I be a goo' giwl! I p'omise!"

"You understand why I'm spanking you?" her mother asked, still raining down smacks with the hairbrush.

"Yes, Mama!" Veronica sobbed. Her pale bottom had turned a bright, sore red. "Ronnie was a bad giwl!"

"You admit you deserve to spend the next six months wetting yourself and being treated like a very little girl?"

"Yes, Mama! P'ease!"

"Alright then. Good girl." Veronica's mother lowered the hairbrush and helped her hiccupping daughter off her lap. "Go stand in the corner with your hands on your head. I have another little girl to deal with before I send you to bed."

Kylie started to suck her soother for comfort. Maybe she could talk her way out of this! Then her auntie turned to face her with a look that made her bladder control fail, and a stream of pee-pee flooded into her training pants.

"Your turn, missy. Over my lap. Now!"

#mellowsadistic

542 notes · View notes

mellowsadistic · 2 months

Text

Tantrums are only to be expected. Girls can’t control their emotions as well as men can, and it’s only natural for her to get a bit grumpy over the loss of her adult privileges. It might seem a little odd given how immature they are, but things like using toilets and wearing adult clothes are actually very important to a lot of women. It’s normal for her to react with a tantrum when you give her the news that she’ll never sit her cute little bum on a potty ever again. By all means spank her and put her in time-out until she calms down, but accept that tantrums are just something you’ll have to deal with as her Daddy.

In fact, you might even consider making her throw a tantrum on occasion. Some girls think they’re too grown-up to pout and stomp their feet and screech like two-year-olds when they don’t get their way. Show her how wrong she is. Don’t let her argue with you or give you the silent treatment when she’s angry about something. Instead, insist she proves just how immature she really is by throwing a massive temper tantrum like a toddler. An embarrassing daily meltdown is a great way of getting her fussiness out, and it keeps her humble to reduce all her complaints about her new lifestyle to a little girl’s crankiness.

#mellowsadistic

442 notes · View notes

mellowsadistic · 2 months

Text

Birthday Party - Part 3

One Year Later

Sarah’s soaking wet diaper squelched between her thighs as she toddled into the kitchen where her aunt was making breakfast.

“Good morning, baby girl,” Helen cooed at her twenty-one-year-old niece, reaching out to cup a hand to the front of Sarah’s nappy through her baby duck patterned onesie. “What a soggy girl! But I don’t smell any poo-poos just yet. Go take a seat, little one. Auntie will have your num-nums ready in just a second.”

Sarah blushed furiously, but even though much of the hypnotist’s conditioning had been undone and control of her body had been returned, her resistance had long since disappeared. She clambered obediently into to her highchair, her breasts wobbling freely in her loose onesie, and sat down on her pissy diapered bottom, wrinkling her nose in disgust as her bum pressed heavily against the sodden padding.

A few moments later, the microwave tinged, and her aunt took out an enormous bottle of warm milk and plonked it down in front of her. Sarah looked at it with distaste. It was breastmilk, she knew. One of Helen’s friends was producing too much of it for her own baby to take, but she was more than happy to deliver a regular supply of bottles to Helen’s house to make sure it didn’t go to waste.

Fighting her revulsion, Sarah took the bottle with both hands and lifted the rubber nipple to her lips. Her mouth latched on instinctively and she began to suckle, feeling the warm, creamy breastmilk squirt across her tongue and flow down her throat. She sucked quickly, but the bottle seemed endless – even after fifteen minutes, she was barely halfway through the enormous thing, and she already felt full to bursting!

Sarah let out a feeble whimper as she thought about her once-tight, sexy tummy. Her mother and aunt were careful not to make her gain too much weight, but her formerly trim stomach was gone. Her belly had a cute layer of what Helen called her ‘baby fat’, perfect for tickles and tummy raspberries. Even her face had a slightly rounder, ‘cuter’ look to it. But Sarah knew better than to throw a fit over her baba. Her aunt was quick with a spanking, and looming over everything was the threat of being reduced back to being a helpless prisoner inside a baby-brained body.

After a few more minutes of mindless suckling, Penny joined Sarah at the table, flashing her babified older cousin a bright smile before tucking into a bowl of cereal with milk.

Sarah couldn’t help but notice how her little cousin’s table manners had improved. It wasn’t long ago that she’d ended every breakfast with soggy cornflakes and milk on her chin, but now she didn’t spill a drop. Straight away, Sarah felt something clunk into place inside her head. She let out a quiet little moan around her bottle, but there was nothing she could do – not all of the hypnosis had been removed, and when a compulsion hit her, she was powerless to stop it. Penny had done something mature, and that meant Sarah had to do something immature.

Immediately, she popped the bottle out of her mouth, blew a spit bubble, and dribbled breastmilk down her chin. She could feel it soaking into the collar of her onesie. Messy girl, a voice echoed in her head. Mucky tot. Dribbly, soggy, wet little baby. Penny giggled at her, and Sarah shoved her bottle back into her mouth to resume her sucking, her face as red as a tomato. No matter how much time passed, it never got less humiliating. She was a grown woman for goodness sake! She didn’t deserve this! Just because she’d been a little rude one time, it wasn’t fair to turn her into some kind of overgrown baby! She’d been taken out of university of course, and there was no chance of going back – her auntie said that if she was lucky, maybe one day she’d be allowed to grow up a little bit more and get a job pushing shopping trolleys at the local discount supermarket. But that was it. No more ambitions. No more dreams. Just minimum wage, and well-used nappies hanging off her hips.

Tears started welling up in Sarah’s eyes, but before a tantrum could really get started, she was distracted by another feeling. There was a sudden fullness in her bottom. Her bladder control was totally gone, and Sarah found herself helplessly dribbling pee-pee into her diapers on a near constant basis, but even after months as little more than an adult-sized toddler, she still had at least some control over her bowels.

With a hiss of air, she finished her bottle. Feeling almost nauseous at the amount of breastmilk now sloshing about in her tummy, Sarah gently lowered herself out of her highchair, clenching her bottom tightly.

“Um… Auntie…” she said, waddling up to Helen and putting on her best pleading look, “I really need to go poo-poo. Do you think maybe I could use the potty?”

“Sarah,” Helen said sternly, turning to look at her niece, “you know the rules. You get to have control over your body again, but you are not an adult anymore. Your mother convinced me not to make you act like a total baby all the time, but when it comes to your potty training, I’m putting my foot down. You will never use a toilet again, young lady. You wear nappies now, and nappies are for pooping in. Now squat down and make a messy in your pants right this instant, or I’ll call the hypnotist and have you cooing and gurgling in your crib by tomorrow!”

Her lower lib trembling pathetically, Sarah fell into a squat, all traces of the formerly proud, snarky young woman gone for good. With a loud fart, she started pooping her diaper. She could sense the smiles of her aunt and cousin above her as she grunted and strained to make yuck-yuck in her pants right in front of them. As the heavy, disgusting load dropped into the back of her nappy, Sarah burst into tears.

“That’s a good girl,” Helen cooed, her face alive with malicious delight, savouring the sight of her niece packing her adult Pampers like the ridiculous baby-woman she’d been turned into. “Get it all out. Right in your pants like a silly little baby.”

Sarah’s vision was blurred by her tears, but she felt her aunt take hold of her hand once she’d finished pooping. Helen led her into the living room and positioned her in front of the television, where some inane children’s program was showing.

“Be a good girl and watch your kiddie shows, Sarah,” said Helen, smirking. “I need to take your older cousin to kindergarten now, so I want you to stay right here. I’ll change your diaper when I get back.”

Sarah only sobbed.

“And your baby monitor will be recording,” Helen went on. Sarah felt her stomach plummet. “I’ll be reviewing the footage later,” her aunt continued warningly, “and if I don’t see a happy big baby girl dancing along to her silly programs, you’ll be getting a very nasty spanking when I get back. Is that clear, little miss?”

“Yes, auntie Helen,” Sarah whimpered, as the embarrassing, babyish music began to play. Helen and her daughter turned to leave, and Sarah started to dance. This was her life now, and she had no choice but to get used to it.

The End

***

If you want to read more evil stories about women being transformed into overgrown babies, I also post on SubscribeStar.

#mellowsadistic

410 notes · View notes

mellowsadistic · 1 year

Text

It’s interesting how quickly the body adjusts to a new routine. At first this little lady complained endlessly about how she was far too old to still have a naptime, how it was annoying to stop whatever she was doing and change into a pair of her bulky bedtime diapers just so she could try and go to sleep in the middle of the afternoon when she wasn’t even tired. And for the first week or so, sure enough, she’d just lie in her crib grumpily, trying to tune out the tinkling lullabies Daddy put on in her nursery to help her drift off.

But it didn't take long before this self-professed mature, grown-up woman was utterly dependent on her mid-afternoon nap. Now, before it even starts, her eyelids are fluttering and she’s stifling yawns, protesting feebly that she’s “not tired” even as she allows her Daddy to strip off her clothes and swap her daytime pull-ups for a thick, overnight nappy. Like clockwork, she starts to get sleepy right around 3pm, and has to be excused from any social events before she throws a tantrum; if she misses her nap, you can bet she’ll get as cranky as any two-year-old!

It might seem minor compared to the humiliation of pull-ups and diapers, but little lifestyle changes like these add up. Getting washed and scrubbed in the bathtub by Daddy instead of doing it on her own. Being dressed in the mornings, responding to “arms up” and “step in” rather than putting her clothes on by herself. Being spoonfed, using a carseat, having naps. These are how you make her stop feeling like a grown woman whose partner makes her wear nappies, and start feeling like an overgrown toddler who genuinely can’t function as an adult.

#mellowsadistic

1K notes · View notes

mellowsadistic · 5 months

Text

“What are you doing, baby?”

Ashley rolled her eyes as she lifted her legs into the air. “What does it look like I’m doing, Daddy? I’m getting ready for you to change my nappy."

"You don't need changing just yet, little girl," her Daddy said, trying to sound firm. "Why don't you go back to playing with your friends, sweetie? You're only a bit soggy, and the other girls all look wet too."

Ashley gave him a sour look. "I don't care if their nappies are dragging along the ground, Daddy. I want to be changed now."

"Honey, please..."

After the new laws came into place stripping women of their adult rights and privileges, most of those with bossy temperaments underwent quick and significant changes in their attitudes - often at the end of a hairbrush - but not all of them gave in so easily. Despite her youth, Ashley had been a high-ranking executive at a successful company, and after some initial shock and horror at being demoted to diapers and adopted by her former assistant, she soon learned to adapt.

Spankings and other punishments proved to be totally ineffective, and only encouraged her to show her new Daddy just how much of a little terror she could be if she didn't get her way. She screamed loudly in the middle of the night, she threw tantrums in public, she trashed expensive furniture and ripped up important documents, until eventually her Daddy realised the truth; even if she ate her meals in a highchair, slept in a crib, and wore thick diapers and plastic pants 24/7, she was still in charge.

Sometimes, however, he needed a little reminder. Ashley took a deep breath. "Daddy... Here's what's going to happen. In a few minutes, I'm going to go back out there with a clean nappy, so all those dumb brats understand that I'm the queen bee of this park. Then later, when you and the other Daddies are sitting together talking about whatever it is you like to talk about, I'm going to come over and sit in your lap and say how much I wuv sucking my Daddy's big dick, and they're all going to think you're the luckiest man in the world, which you are. We're going to have cuddles, and you’re going to tell me how much you love me, and I’m going to say I love you too, because I do, and it will be a perfect afternoon. But first, before we do any of that, you are going to change. My. Nappy!"

"Alright, princess..." her Daddy said resignedly, but as he started pulling off her plastic pants, there was the faintest smile on his face that suggested he wasn't entirely unhappy with the situation. "You’re the boss," he sighed.

“That’s right, Daddy." Ashley lay down on her back, smirking. "I am.”

#mellowsadistic

627 notes · View notes

mellowsadistic · 6 months

Text

"Lift up your pretty dress, baby," I ordered. "Show Daddy's friends what you're wearing underneath."

April's cheeks flushed, and she looked up at me imploringly, even as the men and women around us started to titter. "Please, Daddy," she whispered. "Please don't make me... I don't want them to see..."

"You should've thought of that before you started wetting your pants like a toddler, April," I said. “Now do as you’re told. Don't make me ask you again, young lady."

Looking tearful, April slowly raised the hem of her skirt, revealing the thick disposable diaper she wore beneath. The crowd around us burst into laughter at the sight of it. Many of them were our mutual friends, April's friends too from before her demotion to babyhood, but none of them saw her as an adult anymore. After months of carefully engineering public accidents and potty emergencies, not to mention a myriad of other babyish behaviours, I'd managed to strip her of her status as a big girl in the eyes of everyone who knew her.

Kneeling down, I pressed my hand to the front of her nappy and felt the warm squishiness within. "A bit soggy," I announced, to the raucous amusement of my guests, "but a change can wait until after the Easter egg hunt, I think. She hasn't made her morning messy yet, and all that rushing about is sure to get things moving!"

Our friends laughed even harder, and April's face went scarlet. "I don't wanna do a stupid Easter egg hunt, Daddy!" she whined, sounding exactly like a fussy three-year-old.

"All the children are taking part, April," I said firmly, delivering a sharp smack to the inside of her thigh, "and that includes you. Girls who still need diapers don't get to sit and have champagne with the grown-ups. You'll be toddling around the garden with the other kiddies, hunting for eggs."

April's bottom lip trembled. "But I'll look so stupid," she whimpered.

I ran my fingers through her hair, tucking a few strands behind her ear, and said, in a far more gentle voice than before, "You're going to look adorable, darling. You're so pretty in your little outfit. My baby bunny." I leaned in closer, so that nobody else could hear. "Tell you what, princess, if you can find the most eggs, I'll let you have an orgasm. Would you like that, baby? Would you like a little clitty tickle?"

April's eyes widened and she nodded eagerly. She hadn't been allowed an orgasm in a long time. I smiled. I wouldn't really let her cum of course, but on the off-chance she won, it would be worth dealing with a tantrum or two to see her stomping around the garden in a wet (and soon to be stinky) nappy, trying her hardest to find the most Easter eggs.

"That's my good girl!"

#mellowsadistic

882 notes · View notes

mellowsadistic · 1 year

Text

Once your wife/girlfriend is back in diapers, don’t be coy about them. Don’t call them “protection” or “incontinence briefs”. Always refer to them as nappies/diapers, or else by the brand name of a baby diaper like Huggies or Pampers (even if they’re not actually that type). Don't let her act like a grown woman with a medical problem. You want her to feel like an overgrown toddler who's too immature for potty training.

Similarly, don’t use mature-sounding euphemisms for what she does in her diapers. She hasn’t “gone number two” or “had a BM”. She's pooped her pants. She's made a stinky. Don't be discreet if you think she needs changing either. Nappies are a core part of her life now; people are going to find out sooner or later anyway, so check her Pampers frequently, even in public, and be sure to comment loudly on what you find. “Oh sweetheart, you wet yourself again? Honestly, you’re as bad as a two-year-old!”

Lastly, when it comes actually using her diapers, don't let her toddle off to find a quiet corner and some privacy. Make it clear she's expected to put on a show, at least when it’s just the two of you. She should be embarrassed, but not shy. Have her march up to you and announce what she’s about to do in her pants. Have her say it proudly, with a big smile on her blushing face, before she squats down, sticks out her bottom, and makes a humiliating spectacle of herself for you. I guarantee all that pesky pride of hers will be gone in no time.

#mellowsadistic

2K notes · View notes

mellowsadistic · 7 months

Text

The Succubus - Valentine's Day

A sequel to The Succubus.

***

“Good morning, little cucky,” the monster cooed, peering over the bars of the crib. “Happy Valentine’s Day! Could you hear the grown-ups having their fun earlier, sweetie? I hope we didn’t wake you…”

Debbie glowered at her, all too aware of how ridiculous she must look trying to be intimidating with a pacifier bobbing in her mouth, lying at the bottom of an oversized crib beneath a set of Disney princess bedsheets. Her eyes were red, and there were tears drying on her cheeks as well. She had indeed woken up to the loud sounds of lovemaking coming from her former bedroom.

The Succubus laughed. “Oh dear! Someone’s a very grumpy girl today! Looks like we did wake you after all, huh? I guess you’ll just have to have an extra-long nap this afternoon to make up for it. But right now it’s time to get you up and dressed, little one!” She flung back the princess covers to reveal Debbie’s body, nude but for the thick disposable diaper around her waist.

Debbie slipped out of her crib, her nappy sagging heavily between her legs as she got to her feet. Her bottom lip trembled behind her soother. She’d woken up wet again.

The Succubus reached out, grinning like a Cheshire cat, and put her hand on Debbie’s crotch. Debbie could feel the cold, soggy padding pressing against her pussy. “That’s my little bedwetter,” said the Succubus softly. She slipped a finger past the leak guards, her eyes not leaving Debbie’s face. “Soaked again... Mummy’s poor widdle baby just can’t contwol herself, can she?” Then she spun her around and pulled out the back of her diaper. “But you’re still not pooping at night.” She turned her back around, smiling horribly. “Don’t worry though. Sooner or later you’ll start waking up stinky.”

Debbie imagined waking up every morning to a yucky mess in the seat of her pants and no memory of how it had got there, and felt sick at the thought. The Succubus wanted her to be fully incontinent. Her horrifying voice power had served to strip Debbie of most of her daytime control, but her commands didn’t work as well when Debbie was sleeping. It had taken weeks of ‘special medicine’ in her baby bottles, but now she was starting to reliably wake up in pissy Pampers. Yet the creature who had stolen her adulthood clearly wouldn’t be satisfied until she was doing the most babyish thing possible in her pants while she slept.

Once her hair was tied up in pigtails, frilly socks had been pulled over her feet, and she was dressed in a pale pink frock that failed to reach past the drooping, discoloured seat of her nappy (her overnight diaper was never changed before she made her morning poo-poo), Debbie was ready to head downstairs for breakfast. Mealtimes had been bad enough from the start, when the demon liked to cram her body inside a tight highchair, tie a bib around her neck, and feed her jar after jar of bland, mushy baby food – but things had become even worse ever since she’d realised there was another, better way to feed her ‘baby girl’.

They headed into the living room rather than the kitchen once they’d gone down the stairs, to find John lounging in an armchair having just finished his breakfast. His empty tray was sitting on a table beside him.

“Go and kiss Daddy good morning,” said the Succubus, patting Debbie’s diapered bottom to send her on her way.

Debbie hurried over to her husband. She wasn’t really allowed to kiss him, she knew. Instead she pressed the shield of her binky briefly against his cheek and let him pat her on the head. “Good morning, pretty princess,” he cooed, and Debbie’s heart did a little flutter despite herself.

She turned around and felt her stomach roll, as it always did, at the sight of the Succubus sitting on the sofa with her large, heavy tits out of her top. A droplet of milk was glistening on the end of one of her nipples. “Come to Mummy, baby,” she said seductively, her dark eyes burning like coals. “Time for your feeding.”

Debbie toddled to the sofa, diaper crinkling noisily, and lay herself across the monster woman’s lap. It had taken a while for her milk to come in, but now she produced enough that Debbie had three meals a day from her boobs, supplemented in the evenings by oatmeal and store-bought baby food. With a wet pop, the Succubus removed the dummy from her mouth and guided her lips slowly towards her waiting breast, clearly savouring the look of revulsion on her victim’s face.

Debbie felt the warm nipple enter her mouth, and her lips closed around it and began to suckle instinctively, enthusiastically, against her will. Hot, creamy breastmilk ran down her throat at once. It had a rum-like sweetness to it that wasn’t entirely unpleasant, but no matter how hard she tried, Debbie couldn’t ignore the fact that she was guzzling milk from another woman’s tits. It didn’t help that the Succubus cooed to her in a sickening sweet voice while she fed.

“Good girl, Debbie! Drink up all your milkies, that’s a good baby. Isn’t it yummy-wummy? Straight from Mummy’s boobies to baby’s belly.”

The milk seemed endless, and Debbie’s stomach already felt full to bursting when she was moved onto the second breast. But she knew better than to try and fight. That would just make the creature use that cold, awful voice, and Debbie would simply end up doing as she was told anyway. She may even earn herself a spanking to boot. At last she finished her breakfast, and after being briefly burped with her head over the Succubus’s shoulder, the monster kissed her on the forehead, shoved her pacifier back between her lips, and got up. “Time for Mummy to have her breakfast too,” she said, her eyes sparkling. “I think pancakes sound tasty. You stay here and behave yourself, okay sweetie?” And she left Debbie sitting on the sofa feeling heavy and tired, with her tummy full to the brim with breastmilk.

But Debbie knew she had a rare opportunity. It wasn’t often that the Succubus left her alone with her husband. John was still in his armchair, reading the paper, and the moment the demon left the living room, Debbie got off the sofa and waddled over to him as fast as she could. She could feel the milk sloshing around in her stomach. John looked up from his paper at the sound of her rustling diaper just as she reached him. Pushing aside his newspaper, her gaze fixed on his handsome face, Debbie clambered into her husband’s lap and straddled one of his legs. She bounced impatiently on his knee, and John wrinkled his nose at the pee-pee smell, but he chuckled indulgently all the same. “Do you want a horsey-ride, little missy?”

“Yes please,” Debbie whispered breathily, her soother falling from her mouth and dangling on the end of its chord. It had been over two weeks since she’d last had the opportunity for a ‘horsey-ride’ on his lap, but she felt that if the two of them could just have something resembling an intimate moment today, on Valentine’s Day, it would somehow undo the Succubus’s brainwashing and make John see her as a woman again.

John raised his eyebrow at her.

“Yes please, Daddy,” she corrected, hating the monster that had done this to her loving husband.

John nodded, satisfied, and started to bounce his knee. “Horsey, horsey, don’t you stop,” he sang, “just let your feet go clippety-clop!”

Debbie suppressed a moan of pleasure as her padded pussy was pressed hard against his knee with each bounce. If she closed her eyes and ignored the singing, if she pressed her body against his chest and pretended her pants weren’t full of pee-pee, she could almost pretend that they were making love.

“Your tail goes swish and your wheels go round!”

Her clit was pulsing delightfully. She could feel herself getting closer and closer to orgasm. She was so desperate these days. She was almost there… She was right on the edge…

“Giddy up, we’re homeward bound!”

“I think that’s enough of that!” came the Succubus’s amused voice, and Debbie felt arms loop around her middle and lift her effortlessly off her husband’s knee.

“Noooo!” she shrieked, kicking her legs and humping the air desperately. Her pussy was spasming, tantalisingly close to relief. “No! No! No!”

Her feet hit the floor and there was a sharp smack on her bottom. “Aren’t you a lucky girl, getting to play on Daddy’s lap for a bit!” the demon crooned darkly. She swatted Debbie’s bottom again. “But settle down now, babykins. You can’t play horsey forever, and Daddy doesn’t want you rubbing your disgusting, piss-soaked diaper all over him.”

“Pleeeease…” Debbie begged, tears welling up in her eyes. She pressed her hand against the front of her nappy and started to rub. She couldn’t stop herself. She needed release.

“Bad girl, Debbie!” the Succubus scolded, pushing her hands away from her crotch. “Is that what Mummy’s taught you to do when you’re feeling naughty tingles in your no-no spot?”

Debbie whined. She clenched her fists at her sides and bounced on the spot. Her pussy was so achy. She hated asking, hated what it involved, but it was the only time the Succubus ever allowed her to orgasm. Most of the time the monster refused her. But occasionally, just frequently enough, she’d say yes.

“Mummy…” Debbie said through gritted teeth. “Please can I have sex?”

“Keep going, baby,” the Succubus said, her eyes glittering maliciously. “Ask properly.”

“I know… I know I’m too silly and little for real sex,” said Debbie, glaring at the floor, “but I want to play pretend. Please can I have sex with my teddy bear?”

The Succubus ran her fingers through one of Debbie’s pigtails, considering, letting the silence drag on. “Yes you may, baby,” she said finally. “Go get teddy.”

Debbie rushed over to the toybox that sat in the corner of the room and pulled out an enormous teddy bear, disentangling him from some of her dress-up clothes. But she’d only gone two steps back towards the Succubus when she stopped dead. For a moment, she couldn’t figure out what was wrong. Then a soft grunt escaped her lips. Her knees began to bend, and she found herself sinking into an uncontrollable squat. Tears spilled down her cheeks. “No…” she sobbed.

“Uh-oh!” sang the Succubus, and Debbie could hear the grin on her face. “Looks like it’s time for someone’s morning whoopsies!”

John laughed. “I’m just glad she waited until she was out of my lap!”

Debbie let out a loud, unladylike grunt, following by another sob, and then she got to work pushing last night’s din-dins into her pants. Her diaper drooped even lower beneath the hem of her frock as a heavy, smelly mess dropped into the back. Her face was scrunched up as though she was straining with all her might to make as big of a poo-poo as she possibly could in her Pampers, although the truth was that she was quite out of control of her own body. Her nappy sagged again as she dumped another load into it, accompanied by a fresh wave of wee-wee, so that her baby pants hung so heavily between her thighs they were halfway down to her knees. Then, with a final grunt, Debbie straightened up.

“Mummy…” she whimpered. “Please can I have a change before… before…”

The Succubus’s face was as full of delight as Debbie’s was with horror. She approached the quivering baby woman like a predator. “No, little one,” she said, her tone mocking. “If you want your special rub-rubs today then you have to have them now, in your dirty diaper.” She shoved Debbie’s dummy back between her lips, took her by the hand, and led her over to the centre of the room. “Put teddy down here,” she said, pointing at the floor. Arms trembling, Debbie did as she was told. She felt sick with shame, but even with the horrible, babyish mess in her pants, her pussy was still burning needily. “Good girl,” said the monster, flushed with arousal. “Now you can have sex with teddy, and I can have sex with your husband.” She looked over at John. “Ready for round two?” she asked, smirking.

John grinned back and started to undo his belt as his lover strutted over to him, stripping off her clothes as she went. Meanwhile Debbie lowered herself gently to the floor, on top of her teddy bear. She nearly gagged when the poop in her diaper squished against her bottom, but she was almost too horny to care. The first thrust against teddy sent a wave of pleasure coursing through her body, and she couldn’t stop herself moaning like a slut. She heard John and the Succubus laugh, but she kept going, grinding her aching, diaper-clad pussy against her bear, picking up speed. But then she made the mistake of looking up, and although she didn’t stop humping, Debbie started to wail at the sight of the demon riding her husband’s cock. She was straddling his lap, bouncing up and down on his manhood with her head thrown back in ecstasy. “Oh, oh, ohhh!” she moaned.

Debbie felt her orgasm getting closer and closer, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the nightmare happening before her. She sucked frantically on her binky and went cross-eyed as she thrust against her teddy bear, her head dizzy with need. She was right on the edge. And then she was over it, she was cumming in her stinky, sopping wet diaper – and as she did, the Succubus looked over her shoulder with an evil smile and whispered, “Happy Valentine’s Day, baby girl…”

#mellowsadistic

659 notes · View notes

mellowsadistic · 7 months

Text

"What am I wearing?!" Tracy shrieked, getting up on her knees and goggling at the disposable diaper strapped tightly around her waist. Her head felt funny. Why was she in bed? The last thing she remembered was Sabrina, her stepdaughter-to-be, giving her something to drink, and then...

"Ah, you're awake!" came a young woman's voice. "Did you enjoy your little nap, Tracy?"

Tracy looked up to see Sabrina standing over her, a mocking smile on her face. "Sabrina?" She still felt a little confused and disoriented, but she didn't like the expression on the girl's face at all. "What's going on?" she demanded. "What did you..." She thought back to that moment in the kitchen, when Sabrina had unexpectedly offered to make her morning coffee. "Did you drug me?!" she screeched. "And why did you put me in a fucking diaper?"

Sabrina's smile widened. "If my Dad wants to get remarried, fine," she said matter-of-factly. "But it's not going to be to some vapid bimbo who's only after his wallet."

Tracy flushed. So what if she was only after Sabrina's father for his money? He was in his sixties or something. If he wanted a hot young trophy wife, what was wrong with that? And if she ended up divorcing him after a year or so and taking half of his fortune, it would be his own stupid fault for being so naïve.

"Unfortunately," said Sabrina, "Dad's been totally taken in by your seductive little schemes, so it's up to me to protect him." Her eyes glittered dangerously. "It's up to me to make sure he'll never be attracted to you again."

"What are you..." But Tracy suddenly gasped, a manicured hand flying to her mouth, as she felt a tiny trickle of pee leak into her Pampers. She tried to clamp down on the flow, but nothing happened. The trickle stopped after only a few seconds, but it was enough to make the padding between her legs feel disgustingly warm and wet, and more to the point, it had been completely out of her control. “What did you do to me?!" she squealed, repulsed by the sensation of piss soaking into her pants and pressing against her pussy.

"You really are stupid, aren't you?" Sabrina laughed. "Isn't it obvious, you dumb whore? I made you incontinent. Or is that word too big and complicated for you? Would it be easier to understand if I told you that you'll never use the little girl's room again?"

Tracy stared at her, open-mouthed, too stunned and horrified to speak. She couldn’t be incontinent. She couldn’t be. It wasn't possible to just take someone's control away!

"I added a special ingredient to your latte this morning," Sabrina explained, as if reading her mind. "A little something I found online. A few drops are enough to cause total and permanent incontinence, though I promise you it's quite untraceable, so don't bother running to the police to whine about how your boyfriend's meanie daughter stole your potty training. I made sure not to leave any evidence, and you'll just sound crazy."

Tracy felt as though she'd been doused in icy water. If Sabrina was telling the truth, if she really was incontinent, then she'd never be able to seduce a man again! Her stomach rolled as she imagined trying to persuade Sabrina's father to buy her a new pair of shoes, clutching his arm and rubbing her breasts against his chest, only to feel her diaper drooping between her legs as she pooped in it without warning. She'd be a joke!

Sabrina was smirking. "Are you getting it now, you gold-digging trollop? Your homewrecking days are over. Men aren't going to look twice at you when they find out about your little potty-pants problem. The kind of guys you're after want a hot piece of ass, not a diapered one, and without your sex appeal you're nothing but an overgrown brat. But you should know, there are men out there who are into girls that need diapers. Maybe you could find one of them to look after you? Of course, it wouldn't be the kind of glamorous lifestyle you'd hoped for... It would be a life of spankings, early bedtimes, messy highchair feedings, and begging your Daddy for diapie changes. But hey, at least you wouldn't have to work!"

#mellowsadistic

565 notes · View notes

mellowsadistic · 8 months

Text

Ways To Get Daddy's Attention

Throw a tantrum.

Strip off all your clothes and run around naked.

Wet yourself. (Warning: this can result in diapers)

Pretend to cry.

Really cry.

Act like you’re sick. (Warning: this can result in a thermometer up your bottom)

Sit in his lap and ask for kisses.

Wear a really sexy outfit.

Get caught breaking one of your rules. (Warning: this can result in a spanking)

Announce that you’re off to play with knives.

Inquire politely as to the availability of any attention at this particular moment.

Scream “I want my Daddy!” as loud as you can.

#mellowsadistic

523 notes · View notes

mellowsadistic · 8 months

Text

Alison sulked on her time-out stool, wondering how long she'd been sitting there. There were no clocks in her nursery, but it felt like hours since her husband had dragged her inside, changed her into one of her punishment diapers, and sat her in the corner with that stupid tiara on her head.

She squirmed a little on her seat and winced. Her bottom was still sore from the spanking she'd received earlier - her husband hadn't been at all pleased when he'd found out how much she'd spent on his credit card, and she'd had to endure almost twenty minutes kicking and crying over his lap before he'd let her up. It wasn't fair! She'd been on a shopping spree with her girlfriends! Was she just supposed to have tagged along, not buying anything? She was sure her friends had spent just as much money as she had... but she was equally sure that none of them were sitting on red bottoms right now, nor would they be wearing diapers, and not one of their houses would have a nursery in it just for them. No, they had husbands who treated them with respect, or who at least saw them as adults.

Alison felt herself going red as she imagined what her friends would say if they could see her now, being punished like a naughty toddler. She knew she ought to put her foot down and insist that she wouldn't let herself be treated like this, but it was just so hard to protest when her husband spoke to her in his authoritative voice, with that stern look in his eyes. For all her feminist ideals and principles, she never managed to do more than whimper when he told her off like a child and announced that she was getting a spanking and a stint in diapers to teach her a lesson. The little plastic tiara was the cherry on top. Her husband called it her "princess potty-pants" tiara, and she had to wear it whenever she wore her diapers. It made her feel like a stupid little girl playing dress-up, and no doubt that was exactly how he wanted her to feel.

Alison scowled around at her nursery with its stupid playmat and its mind-numbing baby toys and the dumb stuffed animals lying around everywhere. She particularly despised the oversized baby blocks sitting on the shelf that held her diapers. She did not love diapers. In fact, she hated them more than anything else in the whole world. She hated how they pushed her legs apart, she hated the way they crinkled with every movement, and most of all she hated what they were for. Alison squirmed again and pressed her thighs together as close as they would go, then let out a quite moan of distress. She needed to pee badly. She was no stranger to this kind of punishment, as the full diaper pail in the corner could attest, but somehow, no matter how many times she was forced to wet herself, it never got easier.

After another minute of increasingly desperate wiggling, she gave up. With a deep breath, Alison clenched her eyes shut and relaxed her bladder. The stream began at once. "Eww..." she whined under her breath, winkling her nose in disgust as she felt the thick padding between her legs start to swell up with pee. "Ew, ew, ewww!" Warmth spread from her crotch, but the knowledge of what she was doing rid the sensation of any pleasantness. She was peeing herself. She was wetting her diaper like an overgrown baby. Tears filled her eyes as her thick baby pants became soggier and soggier. The smell of urine reached her nose and she sobbed. She fell so small, so stupid.

Then came her husband's voice. "Alright, baby girl, time-out is over."

She looked up through her tear-filled eyes to see him walking into the room, looking highly satisfied at the sight of her desperate expression.

"Uh-oh," he said, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth, "I think someone's had a little accident. Have you wet yourself, baby?"

Alison sobbed again and nodded. She lifted her fists to her eyes to wipe the tears from them, so she didn't notice her husband's hand until it was already sliding down the front of her diaper. She let out a squeal of protest, but it went ignored.

"Oh my, you're absolutely soaked!" he said, feeling the sodden padding in her diaper. "You really had to go, didn't you, princess potty-pants?" He withdrew his hand and tapped her on the nose. "I guess that tiara's not just for show, is it?" He straightened up. "You can stand up now, baby."

Alison got shakily to her feet, cringing as her diaper sagged heavily between her legs. It was so wet that she could feel the warm, swollen padding brushing against her thighs, and it was drooping down almost to her knees. A whine rose involuntarily in her throat, and she couldn't help flapping her hands in revulsion. It was so yucky!

"You don't like wearing wet diapers, do you, Alison?" her husband asked.

Alison bit back her retort. Of course she didn't! "No, Daddy," she said, unable to bring herself to look him in the eyes.

"And you don't like being spanked either, do you?"

There was a pause. "No, Daddy."

"Do you know why Daddy has to spank your little bottom and make you wear diapers?"

Alison clenched her fists. Now was the time. Now was the moment to tell him she wouldn't put up with this anymore.

"Because I'm a silly little girl," she said meekly, staring at the carpet, "and it's the only way I'll learn."

"Good girl. You can stay in that wet diaper for a few more hours to really drive the lesson home. I'll change you into a clean one at bedtime. Now take Daddy's hand, soggy-britches. Let's go and have a cuddle, okay?"

"Yes, Daddy!"

#mellowsadistic

819 notes · View notes