Talk me to tumblr @playfulsubspace đ Links https://linktr.ee/Abobowec đHaving fun with the simple joys! â¨Cute clothes and diapers are my happy place. đđ Sissy at heart. Just here for good vibes and chats!21+I friendly guy. not a mommy or domme.None of the pictures are mine, will take down immediately upon request.
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He stood in front of the mirror, breaths shallow, heart poundingâno, she stood there. The transformation was complete.
The reflection staring back wasnât the man he used to be. No, this was something better. A soft, pliant thing with wide hips, a feminine waist, and smooth skin that begged to be touched. His long hair cascaded over his shoulders, silky and delicate, just like the rest of him.
"Look at you," a voice in his head purredâhis Mistressâs voice, imprinted deep into his low-IQ, obedient mind. "This is what you were always meant to be."
His fingers trembled as he lifted the phone for one more sissy selfieâhis painted lips in a perfect pout, his makeup flawless, his eyes wide and dumbly happy. He loved this. No, he needed this.
Between his slender thighs, his shriveled, caged clit twitched pathetically. He hadnât been hard in months. Not since his training began. Not since his sissygasms replaced real pleasure.
"Good girls donât need to get hard," Daddy had told him. "Good girls cum from being fucked like the desperate sluts they are."
And oh, how true that was.
A whimper escaped his high, breathy voice as he imagined itâbent over, submissive, taking what he was given. He was nothing now. Just a sissy fucktoy, a caged foot slave, a humiliated pet that only existed to obey.
The phoneâs camera clicked. The perfect shot. Tagged. Posted. Belonging to the world now.
He dropped to his knees, shaking, dizzy with submission. Complete.
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The city sidewalk buzzed with life as James shuffled awkwardly next to his girlfriend, Lily. The thick, crinkling padding between his legs was impossible to ignore, his every step producing a soft shhh-shhh beneath his jeans. Nobody else seemed to notice, but to him, it was deafening.
Lily, effortlessly confident in her tight sporty top and ripped jeans, swung the keyring around her fingerâhis keyring. The tiny silver key to his chastity cage glinted mockingly under the afternoon sun. She smirked, watching him glance nervously at it every few seconds.
"You're being extra twitchy today, baby," she cooed, leaning in with a wicked grin. "Worried about something?"
James swallowed hard. "N-no, I justâ"
Before he could finish, Lily accidentally let the keys slip from her fingers. They clattered onto the pavement, skittering dangerously close to a storm drain.
"Oops!" she gasped, pressing a hand to her lips in exaggerated shock. "I dropped your keys, honey!"
James's stomach clenched. He instinctively lurched forward, butâ
"Ah-ah!" Lily snapped her fingers, halting him mid-motion. "Remember the rules. No touching your special things, remember? Not your diaper, and certainly not the keys."
His face burned crimson as he froze, utterly helpless.
Lily tilted her head, feigning sympathy. "It would be truly terrible if we lost them, donât you think?" She nudged the keys with her sneaker, pushing them even closer to the grate. "But, oh well⌠it's not like your little friend would be of any use anytime soon, right⌠baby?"
His cock throbbed pathetically in its cage, desperate for touch but denied even the relief of friction against his thick diaper. He whimpered.
Lily crouched down, scooped up the keysâthen peered thoughtfully into the storm drain as if considering dropping them for good.
"You knowâŚ" she mused, "maybe we should come back tonight. If you really want them, you can crawl down there and look. UnlessâŚ" She glanced toward a nearby janitor pushing a trash cart. "Unless someone else takes them first."
James's breath hitched. "Lily, pleaseâ"
She silenced him with a finger to his lips. "Shhh. No begging." Then, grinning, she stuffed the keys into her back pocketâmaking sure he got a full view of her perfectly rounded ass in the process.
"Letâs go," she purred, patting his padded crotch teasingly. "Mommy wants ice cream, and someone needs to hold it for her⌠with his mouth."
With that, she sauntered off, leaving James shivering in humiliationâand, despite everything, achingly hard in his cage.
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đ˛đśââď¸đł Ventured too deep into the woods today and stumbled upon a creepy old house. Found a dusty spellbook and BOOM!
Met Morgana the witch who decided to give me some 'perspective' on women by turning me into a sissy maid in a frilly dress and a chastity cage. đđ
Now sheâs off exploring the 21st century and Iâm stuck here serving tea to a sentient porcelain doll that only says 'pweep'! đąđľ
đď¸ If you see a witch on social media, send help!
Alex was always an adventurer at heart. He often found himself wandering alone through the dense woods surrounding his suburban home. One particular afternoon, as the autumn leaves crunched beneath his feet, he ventured farther than usual. The sun was setting, casting eerie shadows through the trees until he stumbled upon a dilapidated house that seemed to appear out of nowhere.
The old house appeared abandoned for years, yet an irresistible curiosity drew him inside. The door creaked ominously as he pushed it open. Inside, the air was thick with dust and the scent of decay. To his surprise, he found an old, leather-bound book on a rickety table. The pages were filled with intricate runes and drawings he couldn't understand.
As he leafed through the ancient tome, a strange feeling overcame him. The room seemed to spin until suddenly, he was no longer standing in the dilapidated house. Instead, he was in another time and placeâa dimly lit room filled with strange potions, herbs hanging from the ceiling, and a cauldron bubbling over a fire. A witch, cloaked in dark, tattered garments, stood over the cauldron, stirring contents that emitted a pungent odor.
"What have we here?" the witch cackled, her eyes narrowing at Alex. "A traveler from another time, it seems."
Alex's heart raced. "Where am I? Who are you?"
The witch waved a hand dismissively. "You are in my domain, young man. I am Morgana, a witch of great power." Her eyes glinted with a mischievous spark. "However, you have brought me a giftâa connection to a world I have longed to see." With a wave of her hand, another spell was cast, and Alex found himself back in his modern suburban home, but now accompanied by the witch.
She gazed around, marveling at the technological advancements and unfamiliar objects. "Such a strange and fascinating world," she murmured. "However, some things never change." Her eyes suddenly settled on a particular part of Alex's room where some hidden adult magazines peeped out from under his bed. She smirked. "Apparently, men's unchanging desires span across centuries."
Alex flushed deeply, grabbing the magazines quickly to hide them once more. "That's not what it looks like," he muttered, though he knew his protest was futile.
The witch strode towards him, her cloak dragging on the floor. "Such a strong fascination with women and their forms. Perhaps you should experience what it is like to be one."
Without warning, Morgana began to chant a dark incantation. Alex felt a surge of magic enveloping him, a tingling sensation that spread from his head to his toes. He tried to resist, but his body began to change. Simultaneously, another part of the spell began to affect Morgana herself. Her skin tightened, wrinkles faded, and her hair grew lush and dark.
Alex's muscles softened, his hips widened, and his chest swelled into a pair of round, firm breasts. His face grew more delicate, with fuller lips and a smoother chin. His hair grew longer, cascading down his shoulders in soft, blonde waves.
Alex panicked, looking at his new handsâdelicate and feminine. "Wait, what are you doing?!" he cried.
Morgana did not reply immediately as she watched in amazement at her own transformation. She put her hands to her own face, feeling the smooth, youthful skin. Her body became slimmer and more toned, and her once tattered and dark garments transformed into a sleek, black dress that accentuated her new figure. Her once hooded eyes were now bright and clear, sparkling with a newfound allure.
She turned to a mirror on the wall and gazed at her reflection. A young, beautiful woman stared back at her. "Well, well, what an unexpected bonus," she said with a satisfied smile.
Alex looked at himself in the mirror now. A maid dressed in a frilly pink maid's dress adorned his reflection. The dress clung to his newly formed curves. Lace stockings hugged his slim legs, and a pair of pink high-heeled pumps appeared on his feet, forcing him to stand on his tiptoes. A maidâs bonnet completed the outfit, making him look like a sissy maid straight out of a fantasy.
As the spell continued, a metal chastity cage formed around his now smaller, limp member and his testicles, tightly locking him out of any male pleasures. Once the transformation was complete, the witch caught the metallic key that appeared in mid-air and snapped the padlock shut.
"Now, my naive traveler, experiencing life from a woman's perspective should be quite an educational experience for you," Morgana said with a wicked grin. She noticed a porcelain doll on a shelfâa figurine dressed in a pink dress with large, bunny-like ears.
Morgana waved her hand once more, chanting a different spell. The doll's eyes glowed briefly before it hopped off the shelf and came to life, stretching its tiny porcelain limbs.
"This doll will keep you company while I explore this new world," Morgana said, handing the key to the chastity cage to the animated doll. "Guard this well," she ordered.
The doll, which was now a living, breathing entity, nodded its head and took the key.
Morgana turned to Alex, who was now a feminized, sissy maid restrained by a chastity belt. "I have some exploring to do. Enjoy your new reality." With a final cackle, she vanished through the front door.
Alex, struggling to adjust to his new body and frilly dress, turned to the doll whose porcelain face now displayed a mischievous smile.
"What do you mean you 'pweeped' the solvent and key?!" Alex exclaimed in his new, higher-pitched voice. "What does that even mean?!"
The doll merely replied, "Pweep!"
"Don't pweep at me like that!" Alex said, utterly exasperated.
He had watched in horror as the doll had wandered away with the key. He followed it into the kitchen where he found the doll pouring the key into a bubbling cauldron that had somehow appeared on the stove. The metallic key dissolved instantly in the strange, glowing liquid.
"Great, just great," Alex muttered, his face flushed red. He placed a hand on his chest, feeling the soft, round flesh of his new breasts. "How am I supposed to get myself out of this mess?"
The doll giggled again, "Pweep!"
Realizing there was nothing he could do until Morgana returned, Alex began inspecting his new body. He timidly touched his breasts again, feeling a strange mix of discomfort and a peculiar thrill. His mind was a whirlwind of emotionsâfear, humiliation, and a strange, perverse curiosity about what it would be like to live as a woman.
The doll hopped back into the living room and turned to Alex. "Pweep," it said once again, as if trying to communicate something important.
"But why did you dissolve the key?" Alex asked, though he knew that the doll could only make that strange "pweep" sound.
His heart pounded as he realized what this all meantâhe was now a sissy maid, stuck in a chastity device, and the only one who could possibly help him understand what was going on was out exploring the modern world. Meanwhile, his feminine form seemed to respond differently now; the soft touch of his own hand on his breast sent unexpected shivers down his spine.
Alex sat on the couch, staring blankly at the wall. His journey had taken a strange turn. He was a stranger now even to himselfâa crossdressing, feminized, and chastised sissy maid now dependent on a witch who seemed to have no intention of returning soon.
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I stood there, staring at the cold metal in my hands. It felt unreal, like a nightmare I couldn't wake up from.
'You know what you have to do,' she said, her voice firm but distant.
I hesitated, fingers trembling as they brushed against the icy surface. There was no going back once this thing was on.
With a deep breath, I locked it in place. The cold seeped into my skin, a stark reminder of my new reality.
I looked down at myself, now altered, reshaped by her will. It wasnât just about the physical changeâit was the loss of control, the stripping away of who I was.
She had won. And I⌠I was just her creation now.
The metal was cold against my skin, a permanent fixture that redefined my anatomy. The first photo captured a forced flatness, a cage that had rendered my manhood a mere suggestion. A promise of a life that had been taken from me, and the beginning of a new life. A blank space, a void where something had once been.
Then came the second photo, a brutal juxtaposition. From behind, the unnatural curve of something else entirely, a foreign object that had claimed my body, a silicone invader that mocked my form. It was a statement, an act of erasure. This is who I was now. Itâs what she made me.
She had done this. She had shaped me, molded me into something I never wanted to be. I was an experiment, a canvas for her warped desires, a before and after, a demonstration of her absolute control. She took what she wanted, and what she wanted was me, twisted, helpless, an empty vessel waiting to be filled. It was no longer about me.
Check my actual social https://linktr.ee/Abobowec Tumblr, Telegram channel, + Other.đđđ
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So this is what youâve been hiding, huh? I knew something was off when you kept making excuses to leave the room or suddenly âforgotâ your overnight bag.
But wow, I didnât expect this level of⌠commitment to the bit. "Bedwetter with a Small Dickâ? Really? I mean, at least youâre owning it, I guess.
But letâs be real, if youâre going to show up at my place like this, you better come prepared with a better explanationâand maybe a spare diaper. đđź
The sterile white of the room only amplified the blush creeping up his neck, as the cold marker tip touched the sensitive material of the diaper clinging to his stomach. It wasnât the indignity of the pink robe or the bulky pad secured with bright blue tapes; it was the words forming under her hand that made his skin crawl. âBedwetter with a Small Dick,â she wrote, each stroke precise and deliberate, turning him into a canvas for his own humiliation.
He lay there, exposed and helpless, his gaze fixed on the ceiling, trying to ignore the quiet chuckle that escaped her lips. There was a clinical detachment to her actions, as if this was simply another procedure in her long list of duties, rather than the slow, deliberate dismantling of his pride. He knew it was for a reason, of course, a consequence of his own failures.
The final stroke of the marker finished, she took a step back, observing her work with a satisfied nod, her eyes gleaming with a mixture of amusement and something colder. âThere,â she said, her voice a soft purr, âall done. Now, you wonât be forgetting your place anytime soon.â It was a statement, not an opinion, and the bright blue tabs on the pink diaper felt like shackles of his new, emasculated reality.
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Oh honey, let me tell you somethingâmotherhood prepares you for everything, but even I wasnât ready for this level of secondhand embarrassment.
Imagine pulling over for a quick check, only to have your whole life unravel in front of a stranger. And that look she gave you?
Oh, sweetie, she knew exactly what was going on. That little laugh at the end? Brutal. But hey, weâve all been there in one way or another, right?
Just remember, next time, maybe double-check your⌠situation before leaving the house. đ
đ
The hum of passing cars had become a frantic drumbeat against my skull, a soundtrack to the humiliation that was rapidly unfolding. The urge, a sudden and overwhelming need, had forced me to pull over, but as soon as I did, I knew, that this was a terrible idea. My fingers fumbled with the zipper, a desperate attempt at a quick check, and then there they were. I was exposed.
It was a mess. It was all so wrong. I needed to get out of here, before someone saw me. Then, the lights.
A car pulled over, slowing to a stop behind mine. I was trapped. I saw a woman come out, her expression a mix of concern and⌠something else. My heart hammered against my ribs, I tried to pull up my jeans, to act as if nothing was happening.
âEverything okay?â she asked, her voice a soft yet direct sound, as she looked at me, her eyes wide with disbelief, yet, somehow, they were full of curiosity.
My mind raced, desperately trying to concoct some believable story, a quick escape from this padded nightmare. What do I say? Where do I go?
âUh, yeah, just, uh⌠checking my tires?â I blurted out, my voice trembling, as I reached for my zipper. My fingers were shaking, and I knew that I looked utterly ridiculous.
Her smile told me, that my excuse, had completely failed. I looked down, and then I looked up, at her. She knew what she was doing, and I was powerless to stop her. Then, she laughed.
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The living room was quiet, save for the soft rustle of plastic as Emily unfolded the thick, white diaper. Her older sister, Claire, lay on the couch, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment, a pacifier bobbing gently in her mouth.
âCome on, Claire,â Emily said, her voice teasing but gentle. âDonât you want to play Mommy and Baby? You used to love this when we were kids.â
Claire groaned around the pacifier, her eyes darting away.
âIâm 24, Em. Youâre 21. Shouldnât we be, I donât know, out dating or something? Maybe even⌠having actual sex with guys?â
Emily just giggled, shaking her head as she slid the diaper under Claireâs hips.
âSex is overrated. This is way more fun. Besides, youâre the one who agreed to this. Now hold still.â
Claire sighed, her body tense as Emily taped the diaper snugly around her waist. The thick padding pressed against her skin, and she couldnât help but squirm.
âThere,â Emily said, patting the front of the diaper. âAll done. My little baby sister.â
Claireâs face turned even redder.
âIâm older than you, remember?â
Emily just smirked, leaning down to adjust the pacifier in Claireâs mouth.
âNot right now, youâre not. Right now, youâre my baby. And babies donât talk back.â
Claire rolled her eyes but didnât argue. She lay there, the diaper crinkling softly with every movement, her mind racing. This was ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous. But as she glanced at Emilyâs playful smile, she couldnât help but feel a strange sense of comfort. Maybe, just maybe, it wasnât so bad to let go and be the baby for once.
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Imagine being on a date, trying to keep it together, and then this happens.
Markâs night went from âromantic dinnerâ to âabsolute nightmareâ in seconds. But Emily? Sheâs either the most understanding person on the planet⌠or sheâs hiding something big.
Why was she only drinking water? Why wasnât she fazed by Markâs accident? The suspense is killing me.
The restaurant was dimly lit, the kind of place where the clinking of glasses and the soft hum of conversation created a cozy atmosphere. Mark adjusted his tie nervously, glancing across the table at Emily. She looked stunning, her smile warm but with a hint of something he couldnât quite place. The waitress, a cheerful woman with a bright demeanor, flitted between tables, bringing them glasses of wine, juice, and water. Emily sipped her water quietly, while Mark reached for the wine, his nerves getting the better of him.
"Youâre not drinking?" Mark asked, raising an eyebrow. Emily shook her head, her lips curling into a faint smile. "Not tonight. Waterâs enough for me."
The food arrived quickly, and the conversation flowed easilyâor so it seemed. Mark couldnât shake the feeling that Emily was holding something back, her laughter just a little too measured, her gaze lingering on him a second too long. Halfway through the meal, he felt an uncomfortable pressure in his bladder. He shifted in his seat, trying to ignore it, but the sensation grew stronger.
"Excuse me," he muttered, standing abruptly. "Iâll be right back."
Emily watched him hurry toward the restroom, her expression unreadable. But as he disappeared around the corner, her eyes dropped to his seat. A faint, dark stain was spreading across the fabric. Her breath hitched, and without thinking, she stood and followed him.
The scene in the restroom hallway stopped her in her tracks. Mark stood frozen, his light brown pants soaked from the waist down, a puddle forming at his feet. His face was a mask of humiliation, his hands trembling as he tried to cover himself. Emilyâs heart ached, but not for the reasons he might have expected.
"Mark," she said softly, stepping closer. "Itâs okay. Letâs get you out of here."
He looked at her, his eyes wide with disbelief. "Youâre not⌠disgusted?"
"No," she replied, her voice steady. "Iâm not. Come on, letâs go to my place. Iâll help you."
Mark hesitated, but the kindness in her eyes broke through his shame. He nodded, and she led him out of the restaurant, her hand resting gently on his arm.
Why did Emily only drink water? What was she hiding? And why did she seem so calm about Markâs accident? The answers lie ahead, but one thing is certainâthis night was far from ordinary.
To uncover the truth, follow the link below for the next part of the story.
(Click the linkâitâs Free, but the suspense is priceless.)
đ [Read Part 2 Here in Telegram Channel] đ
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The locker room was quiet, the faint hum of fluorescent lights filling the space as Emma and Sarah changed after their workout. Sarah was pulling on a pair of faux sheer fleece leggings when Emmaâs eyes narrowed.
âWait a second,â Emma said, tilting her head. âIs that⌠a diaper?â
Sarah froze, her face turning bright red.
âWhat? No! Of course not!â she stammered, but it was too late. Emma had already noticed the faint outline of the thick padding beneath the leggings.
Before Sarah could react, Emma reached out and gave her backside a playful slap. Instead of the firmness of skin, her hand met the soft, squishy resistance of something much thicker.
âOh my God, it is a diaper!â Emma exclaimed, her eyes wide with disbelief.
Sarah groaned, covering her face with her hands.
âOkay, fine! You caught me. But itâs not what you think!â
Emma crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow.
âThen explain. Because this looks exactly like what I think it is.â
With a sigh, Sarah reluctantly hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her leggings and slid them down to her ankles. The thick, colorful ABDL diaper was impossible to miss, the cartoon lion on the back grinning up at Emma.
âItâs⌠for medical reasons,â Sarah lied, her voice shaky. âMedical reasons?â Emma repeated, clearly not buying it. âSince when do medical diapers have lions on them?â
Sarah hesitated, then sighed in defeat.
âOkay, fine. I just⌠like them, okay? Theyâre comfortable, and they make me feel⌠safe. Happy?â
Emma stared at her for a moment, then burst out laughing.
âYouâre such a weirdo,â she said, shaking her head. âBut hey, whatever makes you happy. Just⌠maybe donât wear the sheer leggings next time, huh?â
Sarah groaned again, pulling her leggings back up.
âNoted.â
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Imagine being tied up, blindfolded, and at the mercy of a lynx in a onesie while wearing a pink diaper. Couldnât be me.
Lure really out here living his worst (and wettest) nightmare. Meanwhile, Mandaâs just casually plotting his next humiliation.
Honestly, Iâd pay to see how this ends⌠but luckily, the second part is available for free! đŚđź
The babysitter stood in the doorway, her silhouette framed by the dim light of the hallway. Her voice was firm, yet sweet, as she addressed the two "babies" in the nursery.
âBedtime, babies. And if you want to get untied, Lure, you better follow Mandaâs example and be dry tomorrow when I check you. Or the punishment gets worse! Now, off to sleep, little ones.â
She closed the door with a soft click, leaving the room in near darkness.
On the left side of the room, Manda, a sleek white-and-gray lynx, lay in her crib. She was dressed in a blue onesie, a pacifier bobbing gently in her mouth, and her thick diaper peeked out from under the hem of her outfit. She was free to move, her limbs unrestrained, her expression calm.
On the right side, Lure, a lion, was not so lucky. His wrists and ankles were tied to the corners of his crib, his body spread out in a helpless X-shape. A pacifier gag muffled his whimpers, a blindfold covered his eyes, and a bonnet sat snugly on his head. His hands were encased in mittens, his feet in booties, and his thick, pink diaper was still dryâfor now.
Manda slipped out of her crib, her movements silent and deliberate. She padded over to Lureâs crib, her eyes gleaming with mischief.
âWhat should I do with you tonight?â she whispered, her fingers pressing into the front of his diaper. She felt his member twitch beneath the padding, straining against the fabric. âOh, no, no, no. Youâre not getting off that easy. Youâre being punished tonight. But donât worry⌠Iâve got a better idea.â
đ [Read Part 2 Here Telegram Channel] đ
(Free to read, but the tension is priceless)
Curious what happens next? Lure, bound and helpless in his thick pink diaper, is at Mandaâs mercyâand she has plans for him. Will his diaper stay dry, or will Mandaâs mischievous streak leave him soaked and squirming? After all, he is her husband⌠and she knows just how to make him blush.
Donât miss the next partâclick the link to find out how far Manda will go to keep her âbabyâ in line. đđŚ
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Ever wondered how far a Daddy will go to make his little one the perfect little boy? đŚâ¨
Papa fed Jake special pills to turn him into a little pee-pee baby, and now Jake can't control his bladder anymore. Isn't that just the sweetest thing? đź
Now, diapers are a must, aren't they? But what happens when the little one starts to question their new reality? đ¤
At 25, Alex had discovered a new side of himselfâdiapers. Heâd stumbled into the ABDL community, found a Daddy, and was now nervously waiting in his new yellow giraffe-printed diaper. Daddy had insisted he wear it before their first meeting.
When Alex arrived, Daddy wasnât there. Instead, he found Jake, another boy, sitting on the couch in an identical thick, yellow giraffe diaper. Jakeâs diaper looked well-used, and Alex couldnât help but notice the faint yellow tint between his legs.
âHey,â Jake said, grinning. âLooks like we match.â âYeah,â Alex replied, his face red. âI didnât expect⌠this.â âDaddy likes his boys to dress alike. Come on, letâs compare.â
They started touching each otherâs diapers, giggling nervously, their hands brushing against the swollen padding. Jakeâs diaper was warm and squishy, and Alex could feel the dampness through the plastic.
âYouâre really wet,â Alex whispered. âYeah,â Jake admitted, shrugging. âI canât help it. My bladder just⌠lets go. Daddy says itâs cute.â
As the hours passed, they drank water, played games, and even sat on each otherâs diapers, laughing as they felt the warmth spread. But then, Alex suggested something that made Jake freeze.
âLetâs compare⌠you know, down there,â Alex said, his voice trembling. âI⌠I canât,â Jake muttered, looking away.
They pulled their diapers down to their knees, and Alexâs eyes widened. Jakeâs small, caged member twitched under a black chastity device.
âDaddy says all little boys need to wear these,â Jake explained, his voice barely audible. âBut⌠why?â Alex asked, his heart racing. âItâs just how it is. Heâs got another one in the closet. Metal. For you, maybe.â
Jake opened the closet and showed Alex the cold, gleaming chastity belt. Alexâs stomach churned, but he couldnât look away.
To Be Continued⌠What happens when Daddy returns? Will Alex accept his new role as a "little boy"? And whatâs in the breakfast Daddyâs preparing? Find out in Part 2, available now on our Telegram channel! FREE đ
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The fluorescent lights of the hospital hallway buzzed faintly as Emma adjusted her white top and black leggings, snapping a quick selfie. She had hoped this would be a simple check-up, nothing more. But as she stepped into the doctorâs office, the air felt heavier, colder.
âPlease, undress completely,â the doctor said, her tone clipped, her eyes scanning Emmaâs file. âWait, what? I thought this was just a routine check,â Emma stammered, her cheeks flushing. âIt is. But I need to examine you thoroughly. Rules are rules.â
Emma hesitated, her fingers trembling as she unzipped her leggings. She hadnât expected this. She hadnât prepared for this.
The doctorâs sharp intake of breath was audible as she noticed the soaked diaper beneath Emmaâs clothes. Her gaze turned piercing, almost accusatory.
âIs this⌠a diaper? Do you have incontinence issues?â the doctor asked, her voice laced with disbelief. âN-no, itâs not like that! I just⌠I thought it might be⌠convenient,â Emma mumbled, her voice barely above a whisper. âConvenient? This is highly unusual. Let me examine you.â
The doctorâs hands were clinical, cold, as she conducted the exam. Emmaâs heart pounded, her mind racing. She hadnât planned for this. She hadnât planned for any of it.
âHere,â the doctor said, handing her a small bottle of pills. âTake these daily. Theyâll help with⌠prevention.â
But the pills didnât prevent anything. Instead, they made things worse. Much worse.
That evening, Emma lay in bed, the last sweet pill dissolving on her tongue. She felt the familiar loss of control, the warmth spreading as her bladder gave way. Her already soaked diaper overflowed, the liquid trickling down her legs. She stared at the empty bottle, her mind foggy, her body betraying her.
âI guess⌠Iâll need to see the doctor again,â she whispered to herself, her voice trembling.
The cycle had begun, and there was no turning back.
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âIâm going to glue these in place now,â she said, her voice calm but firm, holding up the pair of silicone breasts like they were the most natural thing in the world. âIf youâre a very good girl all weekend, Iâll remove them Monday morning before you go to work.â
He stared at her, his mouth slightly open, his finger instinctively poking at the soft, lifelike material. âWait, what?â he stammered, his voice cracking a little. âYouâre serious? Like⌠glued on? All weekend?â
She nodded, a small, mischievous smile playing on her lips. âAll weekend. And donât even think about trying to take them off yourself. You know how I feel about rules.â She stepped closer, her own breastsâreal, full, and impossible to ignoreâpressing against him as she adjusted the silicone pair against his chest. âThere. Perfect.â
He looked down, his face a mix of disbelief and something elseâcuriosity, maybe, or even a flicker of excitement. âTheyâre⌠huge,â he muttered, his fingers brushing against the smooth surface again. âAnd they feel so real.â
âOf course they do,â she said, her tone matter-of-fact. âI picked them out specially for you. Theyâre just like mine.â She reached out, cupping both her own breasts and the silicone ones now attached to him, her hands warm and possessive. âSee? A perfect match.â
He swallowed hard, his Adamâs apple bobbing nervously. âBut⌠what if someone sees? What ifââ
âShh,â she interrupted, her voice softening as she pulled him into a hug, their matching chests pressing together. âNo oneâs going to see. This is just for us. For me. And if youâre a good girl, like I said, itâll all be over by Monday.â She kissed his forehead, her lips lingering for a moment. âNow, go look in the mirror. I want to see your reaction.â
He hesitated, then slowly turned toward the full-length mirror in the corner of the room. His reflection stared back at him, unfamiliar and surreal. The silicone breasts looked startlingly natural, their weight and shape perfectly mimicking hers. He reached up, touching them again, his fingers trembling slightly. âI⌠I lookâŚâ
âBeautiful,â she finished for him, her voice warm and approving. She stepped up behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her chin on his shoulder. âMy perfect girl.â
He didnât know whether to laugh, cry, or run. But as he stood there, staring at his reflection, he couldnât deny the strange thrill that coursed through him. This was happening. And somehow, deep down, he knew he wasnât going to fight it.
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This is BRUTAL. đ The aunt's got him cornered! That PlayStation is going to be sitting there for a LONG time.
This is some next-level blackmail, using diapers and childhood shame. I almost feel bad for the guy⌠almost.
Anyone else ever been in a situation where their secrets were used against them? đŹ
This 1 part ----- 2 Part telegram free LINK to channel
The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. He stirred, still half-asleep, until the cold, damp sensation beneath him jolted him awake. His heart sank as he realized what had happenedâhe had wet the bed.
Panic set in as he sat up, his mind racing. He hadnât worn diapers in over 20 years. This wasnât supposed to happen. Not now. Not ever.
Before he could even think of what to do, the door creaked open. His mom stepped inside, followed by a woman he hadnât seen in yearsâhis distant aunt, who had visited once when he was still in diapers as a toddler.
"Good morning, sweetie!" his mom said cheerfully, oblivious to the disaster on the bed. "Look whoâs here! Your aunt came all the way fromâ"
His auntâs sharp gasp cut her off. Her eyes darted to the wet spot on the bed, then to his horrified face. Without missing a beat, she stepped forward, blocking his momâs view.
"Oh, dear, I just remembered!" his aunt said, her voice overly bright. "You were telling me about those relatives in the countryside, werenât you? Why donât you go visit them? Iâll stay here and keep an eye on things."
His mom hesitated, glancing between them.
"Are you sure? I mean, I wasnât planning toâ"
"Nonsense!" his aunt interrupted, her tone firm but cheerful. "Itâs the perfect time. Go on, take a break. Iâll handle everything here."
His mom finally nodded, smiling.
"Well, if you insist. Iâll pack my bags right away."
As soon as she left the room, his aunt turned to him, her expression shifting from cheerful to stern.
"So," she said, crossing her arms. "Care to explain this little accident?"
He swallowed hard, his face burning.
"It⌠it was just a one-time thing," he stammered. "Please, donât tell Mom. Iâll handle it."
His aunt raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced.
"A one-time thing, huh? Well, weâll see about that. But for nowâŚ" She reached into her bag and pulled out a thick, crinkly diaper. "I didnât come empty-handed. I brought you a gift. Itâs a PlayStation 5⌠but itâs for big boys who donât wet the bed. So, until you prove you can handle that, this is your new reality."
He stared at the diaper in horror, his mind racing with excuses.
"I canât wear that! I have a girlfriend, and classes, andâwhat if someone sees?!"
His aunt smirked, her tone unyielding.
"Oh, honey, no one wants a boyfriend who wets the bed. Now, letâs get you cleaned up."
Reluctantly, he obeyed, his face burning with shame as she helped him into the diaper. The thick padding felt foreign and humiliating, but there was no escaping it.
As she fastened the tabs with a firm pat, she glanced down and let out a soft laugh.
"Well, at least we wonât need to worry about that getting in the way," she said, her tone teasing.
He didnât need to ask what she meant. His face burned even hotter as he realized she was referring to his⌠size.
"There," she said, standing back to admire her handiwork. "All set. Now, letâs see how long it takes for you to earn that PlayStation."
As she left the room, he sank onto the bed, the weight of the diaper a constant reminder of his new reality. He had no idea how he was going to survive the next monthâor how he was going to keep this from his girlfriend.
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She stood in front of the mirror, the soft glow of the bathroom light casting a warm halo around her. The white shirt hung loosely off one shoulder, revealing just enough to tease, and the black lace panties hugged her hips perfectly, a stark contrast against her pale skin. She tilted her head, her lips curving into a sly smile as she snapped the photo, the click of the camera echoing in the quiet room.
Her fingers danced across the screen as she typed out a message, her smirk growing wider with every word. âThinking of you,â she wrote, attaching the photo before hitting send. She didnât have to wait long for a response.
The phone buzzed almost immediately, and she glanced down at the screen, her laughter bubbling up as she read his reply. âWhy do you do this to me?â he had written, followed by a string of embarrassed emojis. She could almost picture him on the other end of the line, his face flushed, his thick diaper crinkling as he shifted uncomfortably.
âBecause itâs fun,â she murmured to herself, her voice dripping with playful malice. She leaned against the counter, her fingers tapping out another message. âAdmit it. You love it. You love being my little diaper boy, donât you?â
The response came slower this time, and she could almost feel his hesitation through the screen. âI⌠I donât know,â he finally replied, his words timid and unsure.
She rolled her eyes, her smirk turning into a full-blown grin. âOh, come on. You canât tell me you donât enjoy this. I mean, look at you. Sitting there in your soggy diaper, all embarrassed and flustered. Youâre practically begging for more.â
The phone buzzed again, and this time, there was no textâjust a photo. She opened it, her laughter filling the room as she saw him sitting on the edge of his bed, his face bright red, his thick, padded diaper clearly visible beneath his too-small t-shirt. He looked so pathetic, so utterly helpless, and she loved it.
âGood boy,â she typed, her fingers moving quickly. âMaybe Iâll send you another picture later. If youâre lucky.â
She set the phone down, her reflection in the mirror catching her eye. She adjusted the shirt, letting it slip a little further off her shoulder, and reached for the camera again. This was too much fun to stop now. After all, someone had to keep him in lineâand who better than her?
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The smell was unmistakable, a pungent aroma that no amount of pink fluff could mask. It was time. I needed a change, and I needed it now. The onesie, usually a symbol of comfort, now felt like a trap, holding the wet mess close to my skin.
I was not happy, and everyone needed to know.
"I need a change," I whined, my voice laced with a theatrical urgency, a clear demand for attention. "This diaper stinks like pee!! >0<"
I shifted, my movements emphasizing the weight, the squish, the sheer wetness of my predicament, my Hello Kitty toy a silent witness to my plight. It was all too much.
I needed someone to come and fix it. In needed to be taken care of. And I wanted it all to happen now. Check my actual social https://linktr.ee/Abobowec Tumblr, Telegram channel, + Other.đđđ
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The pink diaper was impossible to ignore, its thick, crinkly bulk straining against the tight confines of the sissyâs white-and-pink onesie. The words âSISSY BABYâ emblazoned across the chest left no room for doubt about his place, and the way the fabric clung to the diaper only emphasized its sheer size. He stood awkwardly, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, his cheeks flushed a deep shade of crimson. The room felt too bright, too exposed, and every rustle of the diaper seemed to echo louder than it should.
âStop fidgeting,â came the sharp, commanding voice from behind the camera. He froze, his hands instinctively moving to cover the obscene bulge, but another snap of the voice stopped him. âHands at your sides. You know the rules.â His breath hitched, but he obeyed, his fingers trembling as they brushed against the soft, frilly hem of his dress. The humiliation burned hotter than ever, but beneath it, there was something elseâa twisted thrill that made his stomach flutter. He hated how much he craved this, how much he needed it.
The camera clicked again, capturing the moment he leaned forward, his diaper pushed almost comically close to the lens. The pink satin of his dress swished around his thighs, the fabric delicate and girlish, a stark contrast to the thick, padded monstrosity he wore underneath. His face was a mix of defiance and desperation, his lips pursed in a pout as if daring the camera to capture every inch of his shame.
âGood boy,â the voice cooed, though the tone was anything but gentle. âYou love this, donât you? Showing off your little sissy diaper for the world to see.â He opened his mouth to protest, to deny it, but the words caught in his throat. Because deep down, he knew it was true. The way the diaper pressed against him, the way it made him waddle, the way it left him utterly exposedâit was all part of the game, a game he couldnât quit even if he wanted to.
The camera lowered, and for a moment, there was silence. Then, the voice returned, softer this time, almost teasing. âYouâre such a good sissy baby. But donât think for a second that this is over. Weâre just getting started.â
He swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his chest. The humiliation was unbearable, but it was also intoxicating. And as much as he wanted to hide, to run, he knew he wouldnât. Because this was who he was nowâa sissy, a baby, a thing to be dressed up and shown off. And deep down, he wouldnât have it any other way.
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