i3diapers

[i3diapers]

When you’ve just gotten out of the bath and are about to be diapered for bed by your ‘cabin mother’ at your church youth group summer camp.

Every morning after waking up diapered, you would lay on your tummy in bed and deliberately push a poo poo out into your pampers, wetting your diapers as you pushed. While it filled you with shame, you always felt butterflies inside when she came into the room to check your diapers, immediately smelling your shameful dirty diaper.

[i3diapers]

“How do you get them so obedient?” asked a tall slender woman in her late 20’s with long red hair.

“Chastity and some magic,” the headmistress answered. The red haired woman looked at her puzzled. The headmistress responded with, “allow me to show you.”

They went into a room with a crib that was decorated for a baby. In the crib was a guy dressed in a short purple gingham dress that did nothing to hide the thick diaper with baby prints. There was a pacifier clipped to his dress that laid on the crib next to him, and the pacifier in his mouth was a paci-gag strapped around his head. He was laying on his back with his hands and feet cuffed to the crib. “The restraints are so they don't hurt anyone or themselves,” the headmistress explained. A nanny came up to the sissy with a magic wand vibrater in her hand. The sissy could not contain his excitement. The nurse turned the vibrater on low and pressed it on the sissy's diapered crotch. The sissy’s diaper crinkled loudly as he moaned and moved his hips back and forth while pressing them into the magic wand. The nurse switched the power to medium, and the sissy’s moaning went higher, and he was grinding his diaper harder into the wand. The sissy spasmed as soon as the nurse switched the vibrater to high, squealing and moaning, desperately grinding his diaper onto the magic wand, his diaper crinkling even louder, until the nanny turned off the magic wand and took it away. The sissy immediately whined under their paci-gag, lashing their arms and legs as much as they could in the restraints. The sissy looked as if he was going to cry.

“Don't worry, they will calm down soon and be the most obedient little sissy baby. That was a 15-10-5. 15 seconds on low, 10 on medium, and 5 on high. The vibration against their chastity feels absolutely amazing to them. It builds them to the point of an intense orgasam, but we never allow them to achieve it, leaving them even hornier and more frustrated than before they entered here.” The sissy quit thrashing and was calming down. The nanny uncuffed the sissy's hands, and he immediately started rubbing his diaper, moving his fingers back and forth mimicking how girls masturbate. The nanny uncuffed his ankles, removed the paci-gag, and put in the paci that was clipped to his dress. The nanny got him out of the crib and on the floor. “The magic wand really works magic, now we have a much more obedient sissy, though frustrated and a little pouty right now.” The sissy crawled out of the room with his big diapered butt swinging back and forth and another sissy crawled in. This one wearing a pink skirt so short, it did nothing to hide his thick diaper and a pink crop top with the words ‘Babygirl’ on the front. The nanny put the sissy in the crib, handcuffed his arms and legs to the crib and took the pacifier he was sucking on out of his mouth, and tied the paci-gag on him. The sissy became more excited as the nanny brought out the magic wand. The nanny turned the wand on low and gently placed it up against the sissy’s diapered crotch and gently moved it up and down the front of his diaper. This time when the sissy would try to press his hips up, the nanny would pull the wand up, so that it was always lightly on the diaper. “Ah, this is the Low and Slow, it will go on for a bit longer than the 15-10-5. The wand stays on low while it is slowly and gently moved up and down. As you see the sissy will try to grind their hips to feel it more, but our nannies are very skilled at making sure to move it so it is always that gentle pressure. Despite how much torture it may seem to them, and how frustrated they get and pouty after, they absolutly love it, and will do almost anything to have some magic even though they never climax. The diapers become really useful, because although they don’t climax, a lot of them will leak from their cages, some will have their balls completely drained, but never feel an orgasm, just frustration. The Low and Slow is a good one for emptying their balls like that. The funny thing is, they never feel the cum draining out.” It had been over 2 minutes, and the sissy was still moaning and crying behind the paci-gag with tears streaming down his face. “With their balls drained, they are extremely horny, and frustrated because they are less sensitive. Whereas if we just tease them to make their balls swell up more, they are extremely horny, and frustrated because they are more sensitive. Either way they hump things just as frequently.”

The nurse turned off the magic wand, laughing saying, “ain’t that the truth,” while the sissy threw a tantrum screaming behind the paci-gag, flailing his arms and kicking his legs in the restraints, bursting into more tears.

“Magic is used as a big reward, especially for our newer sissys. Offering magic or threatening to take it away is a great way to control them. Like dangling a carrot in front of an ass, but we also use the stick as well to correct behavior.” The headmistress looked at the sobbing frustrated sissy. “This one will probably need a couple minutes to calm down. Come with me, and I will show you how we use chastity to shrink their dicks.”

[i3diapers]

"Oh my god he's sooo cute!!" Leyna exclaimed.

"Isn't he, though??" My wife, Kayla, declared proudly.

"And he's so well behaved!!" Ava admired. "Look at him dwinking his widdle ba ba without making a fuss!! Didn't you say you put one of Brad's condoms in there?"

Kayla nodded ecstatically, "Mhmm!! Five, actually!"

Ava and Leyna both turned to her, eyes wide, impressed. Kayla giggled and shrugged "It was our anniversary..."

The girls exchanged knowing looks, then laughed it off.

"And he doesn't mind drinking the cum of a man who is fucking his wife?" Leyna asked, shocked.

Kayla just shrugged, "He doesn't really have much of a choice. Plus, he's used to getting it straight from the source so..."

It took the girls a second for that to register. "Wait...you mean he--"

"Sucks Brad's dick dry like it's the last drop of water in the desert? Yea, that's exactly what I mean." Kayla laughed, "Why do you think he's in a pretty pink tutu? Brad likes his hair to be in little bows and pigtails so he can tug on them while he's fucking wittle hubby's face!"

"Well if he sucks a dick half as well as he sucks that bottle, I'd say you got a little whore on your hands." Ava quipped.

Leyna leaned in close, examining the bottle that was slowly undulating up and down, white, creamy liquid sloshing back and forth inside. "So what else is in there?"

"Oh you know...hormones, beta blockers, stool softeners, and lots of fiber to keep his tummy and diapers full! I call it his special 'formula'!"

Suddenly I felt like I could taste everything she was describing, wincing as I swallowed the liquid pooling in my mouth, only for it to be replaced with a fresh batch again and again.

"I dunno if he likes it..." Leyna said, studying my face.

"Of course he does! Don't you, Billie??" Kayla beckoned, "Show Mommy's friends how much you like your milkies!! Come on! Wave your rattle!!"

Obediently, I wagged my hands back and forth and gave the 'happy baybee' expression i've been taught to do. My diaper could hardly be heard crinkling over the sound of the wailing rattle.

The girls "Awww'd!!" and cooed and "Oh my godded" in unison, pinching my cheeks and tickling my tummy while I suckled.

Ava shook her head, impressed "He’s so well-trained!” I knew Ava had several men at home that she keeps as slaves. Kayla told me about them, but I'd never met them. "Don't worry! You will soon!" she always says. I'm a little worried about what that means.

"Oh please? Waving a rattle and babbling like a baby?? That's nothing..." Kayla scoffed, "Watch this: Hubby! It's time to make pushies!!"

My stomach felt like it was about to fall to the floor. I knew this was coming, but I guess a small part of me hoped it was just a veiled threat. Something for her to say and make me squirm. Yet here she was, pulling the bottle out of my mouth with a sssskk! and lifting my legs up by the ankles so that all the girls could see the bottom of my diaper.

"Come on, hubby!" Kayla encouraged, "Be a good gurl and use your diapers the way Mommy intended!!"

Leyna and Ava both gasped, covering their mouths as they figured what was going on.

"Is he gonna try to poop himself? Leyna asked incredulously.

"Not 'try'," Kayla corrected, giving me a stern look through my lifted legs, "He will! And he has 60 seconds before he suffers the consequences..."

I've faced those consequences many times before, I wasn't about to suffer them again. As embarrassing as it was to be surrounded by a group of beautiful girls encouraging me to dirty my own diaper--let's be honest--my dignity was long gone already.

Leyna and Ava alternated between watching my face and the squished up diaper between my legs as it slowly expanded, pressing outward as I pushed out a warm, mushy load I'd been holding for the better part of 6 hours.

Whatever fragile scrap of manhood or self-respect I thought I still possessed was obliterated the moment their laughter hit the air.

But at least that chorus of cackling didn't last long before the pungent stench assaulted their noses.

"Oof!!" Leyna winced, clamping her fingers around her nose and using the other hand to try to waft the smell away. "He stinks!!"

"Awwww!!! Widdle baybee went poo poo in his pampurrss!!" Ava intoned mockingly, laughing as she tested the warm, hefty load drooping between my legs.

"Stinky gurl!!" Kayla giggled, booping me on the nose and making it wrinkle like the other ladies. "Say 'that's how I make boom booms because I's just a widdle baybee!!"

I repeated the humiliating line like I'd done many times before, but it was a bit different with a bigger audience.

Leyna still seemed to be in shock. "I just can't believe it. You made a grown man literally shit himself!! Doesn't he get embarrassed?" She asked Kayla, like I wasn't even part of the conversation, like what I had to say didn't matter.

“Oh, he does get embarrassed." Kayla said, "But the thing is...he likes it. Don't joo, widdle guy?? He likes being humiliated and not being in charge. If his widdle pee pee wasn't wocked away in a widdle cagey cage, he would have a widdle baybee boner in his poopy pampies!! Wouldn't you, hubby??”

Judging by the painful throbbing in my penal region, I'd say she was right.

"You're a miracle worker." Ava said, impressed. “I'm gonna need you to come train my subs. Do you make him ask permission for diaper changes?”

Kayla grinned. “Of course! He even has to practice! Want to show the girls how you ask nicely, sweetheart?”

I felt my face puckering up, but I quickly washed it away, getting into character. I lifted my knees and started lightly kicking my feet up and down, waving my arms and wriggling my body back and forth.

"WWWaaaahhh!! Waaaahhhh!! Mommy!!" I cried--or at least pretended to, "I went poo poo's in my pampers wike a widdle baybee!! Wahhh!! Wahh!!! Want changies, Mommy!! Can I have changies??"

It was an absolutely pitiful display, only further emphasized by both Ava and Leyna's shock and awe, followed closely by another fit of pitying giggling.

“Awwww!!” Ava said, wiping away tears of laughter. “That is precious!! Do you always record him saying it?”

Kayla clicked her phone off and set it to the side, smiling. “Every time. Feel free to do the same!”

Both girls smiled as they pulled out their own phones, aiming them at me.

This humiliation sent me over the edge. Before I knew it, I was covering my face with my mittened hands, trying to melt away.

“Oh no you don’t,” Kayla said sweetly. “No hiding, baby! You wanted this, remember? This is our little agreement. And Mommy loves showing you off. Now do your poopy pamper dance and beg my friends to let you get your diaper changed!"

I sniffled, but obeyed. Splaying my arms and legs out to the side, opening myself to a full display for their phones to capture my degrading diaper dance. Repeating whatever humiliating line they could conjure up. Finally, they ran out of ideas.

"Pweez may I have my diaper changed??" I asked with wet eyes.

All three girls looked at each other, considering. Eventually, Ava shrugged, taking charge and scooping up the half empty bottle of 'formula', pressing the nipple to my lips.

"Not until you finish your ba ba!!"

*****

“I have to say, Kayla…” Leyna began slowly, a mischievous tone creeping in, “this is kind of amazing.”

Kayla raised an eyebrow, sipping from her glass. “Oh?”

“You’re just so in charge of him. I love it.”

I had just gotten changed into a fresh diaper, sitting on the floor and pretending to play with my dolls and blocked. I was still coming out of my post-orgasm haze. Kayla had thought it would be funny to pull out the vibrator and have me show the girls how I masturbate even when I have a cage and a dirty diaper on.

Leyna leaned forward. “I mean… does he really listen all the time? Even to your friends?”

I squirmed. Kayla smirked, eyeing me. “He does when he remembers what happens if he doesn’t.”

Leyna turned to me with mock-serious eyes. “So if I told you to crawl over to me and bark like a dog, you’d do it?”

I looked at Kayla first. She gave me a single nod.

Without a word, I clambered onto to all fours and slowly shuffled over to where they were sitting on the couch, crinkling as I went. Sitting back on my haunches, I let out an exaggerated bark, panting letting my tongue hang out afterwards for good measure. Leyna burst into delighted laughter.

“Oh my god,” she said, turning to Kayla. “That is powerful.”

“I'm gonna show that video to my slaves.” Ava said, contemplating, "Let them know what will happen to them if they misbehave."

“I mean…” Leyna trailed off, sipping her wine. “My husband’s been a bit full of himself lately. I think he could use a little... attitude adjustment.”

Kayla chuckled. “Start small. Give him rules. Catch him breaking them. Then offer him a choice: obedience, or diapers.”

Ava added, “And don’t give him too much attention. Let him earn it.”

Lena’s eyes sparkled with possibility. “You two are horrible influences. And I love it.”

Kayla raised her glass. “To soft boys, padded bottoms, and women who know what they want.”

Glasses clinked, and they sipped their adult drinks like true adults.

Down on the floor, I shifted nervously, wondering if my life would ever go back to how it was before. But, honestly? Deep down, I hoped not.

[i3diapers]

Baby in training ✨

[i3diapers]

The Challenge

Today, I texted my daddy to brag about how I planned to go commando under my cute new shorts all day.

He was… concerned, and a little amused by my confidence. Don’t worry, he turned it right back around on me. 

He said I had a very special task to complete for him today: I’d have to drink two full bottles of water from my sippy cup bottle, then hold it for three whole hours before I’d be allowed to use the potty. 

And…

For the rest of the WEEK!

He gave me a choice.

Either I could stay commando and complete his challenge, or

Drink the water and wear my diapers all day, and let go whenever I felt the urge.

I wanted to prove how well I could still hold it, after all of our untraining this year! So I told him I’d go commando. 

Not to worry, I felt super confident. 

Okay, maybe not super confident, but I felt okay about it!

After we started, Daddy got pretty turned on and tried to get me to wet myself by looking at his hard cock and hearing the sounds he made as he masturbated.

That’s usually my kryptonite—something about hearing my daddy feeling good, watching his cock pulse—it makes me tense up and feel overwhelmingly aroused, and all of a sudden I’m sitting in a puddle. I have a wet towel in the wash right now, from an ill-timed Daddy check yesterday where I was all nakey when my daddy called. Miraculously, though, this time I was able to focus really hard and hold it the whole time. 

Then came the next part of the challenge. I drank both full bottles of water, and was just starting to feel the urge to go, when I had to run an errand. I drove in my car about 15 minutes to get there, and was in and out pretty quickly. That was good, because I was feeling increasingly like I needed to find a potty.

Driving home, though, I made a wrong turn. It just about doubled the trip length, and by the time I was pulling into my driveway, my legs were clenched together and my only thoughts were “I gotta pee I gotta pee I gotta pee.”

As soon as I stood up, I almost wet my shorts. I was bouncing foot-to-foot, but outwardly, I think I was pretty calm about it (😳). Here’s the live play-by-play:

As soon as I got to my room, where I was ready to put on a diaper so I could finally have relief, I felt like I might have another kind of accident at the same time. 

It felt so good to finally let go. My daddy was so sweet to me, even though I didn’t make it all three hours. In fact, I asked, and embarrassingly, he told me I’d only managed to hold it for an hour and a half!

When we started training wayyyyy back in November, my daddy had me do a preliminary holding test for a benchmark. That time, I held it for two hours and some minutes. That means since then, my ability to hold it has decreased by a whole half hour🥺🫠

After I had my accident (even though I made it to the potty), my daddy had me put my diapers back on. They felt so cozy and safe, and since then, every few minutes I feel a little dribble warming my padding. It’s wonderful. 

My daddy also told me I have some new rules he’ll be implementing: 

I’m gonna start potty training every Sunday!! I’ll show my after photos in another post, and I’ll let my daddy tell you guys all about my new rules from his perspective later this week. 

[i3diapers]

How Roo became a bedwetter

(A comprehensive guide)

I've wet the bed 11 times in the past two weeks. That's more than a 78% success rate. Holy fuck. Before untraining with my daddy, I'd not wet the bed since early childhood, so this is a big change. We've been doing this nighttime routine every night since January. Now, in mid-April, I'm consistently wetting the bed.

This is starting to sound like an ad. It's not an ad.

When my daddy and I got together, we both thought it would be hot to untrain my bladder until I became a bedwetter at night. To us, that means unconsciously wetting myself fully while I stay asleep, and waking up in the morning surprised to find my diaper much soggier than when I went to bed.

I haven't wet the bed unconsciously outside of diapers. Something about the safety my body feels while padded changes my bladder's ability to hold. We may work on training bedwetting outside of diapers in the future, though.

My daddy has more experience than I in all things diapers, bedwetting, and bladder control. Therefore, he had some tricks in his back pocket as we got started. My daddy was very patient throughout this whole process, and as a result, I've progressed (regressed?) much more quickly than if we'd rushed it.

Waking up and wetting

My first goal in the process was to wake up in the middle of the night and wet my diaper. As someone who was new to wearing diapers, it was a process to even let go while laying down! First, my daddy added water to my bedtime routine. In addition to brushing my teeth and putting on a diaper before bed, he had me drink a whole bottle of water right before I went to sleep. He instructed me to stay fully relaxed down there (as much as I could) so I got used to going whenever I felt the urge.

At first when we did this, it went two ways: I woke up in the morning really having to pee sometimes. Or I woke up in the middle of the night and had to focus and relax my bladder for minutes before I could let go into my diaper. That was a frustrating stage, and I woke up pretty tired after all of the tossing and turning in the middle of the night.

One of the challenges we faced in this stage was leaks. I was still in pull-ups at night at the beginning of this process. Since I was so new to it, my daddy wanted me to work slowly up to thicker padding. Wearing pull-ups to bed led to puddles on my sheets and made me trust my bladder less after too many frustrating middle of the night changes. I have a feeling he also wanted me to leak enough that I was excited to move to diapers for their added protection. If you wanted the process to go faster, I'd recommend starting in diapers. If you want your little to feel reliant on diapers, though, set them up for some failures (followed up with ample praise and affection, not punishment).

The fuzziness

Next in my experience, I woke up some nights with the fuzziest memory of waking up and wetting my diaper. Sometimes I couldn't quite remember at all! That's not bedwetting yet, but it's close. How'd I get there?

My daddy told me not to focus on wetting anymore. What?! Why?? He told me to keep my bladder relaxed, but now that I was comfortable wetting whenever I needed to, I should start going peepee and immediately let my mind drift to other things. That trained my bladder and brain to associate diapers with not needing to monitor when I go potty. That means now, when I go, it doesn't blip on my radar much. Sometimes I can't remember the last time I wet, even when my diaper is soaked. It also means since I'm staying relaxed, I go in little spurts very frequently. That makes my bladder a little weaker and also makes my diapers last longer since I'm not flooding them.

In terms of nighttime wetting, that meant whenever I woke up to wet, I'd start to go but let myself drift back off while my bladder was relaxed and emptying. I didn't even worry if my flow stopped — I trusted that I was relaxed enough that my bladder would keep emptying when it needed to. I started to barely wake up in the middle of the night. I'd feel an urge, twist a little bit and relax, let out a little moan, and drift right back into sleep, all without opening my eyes.

Every time I could just barely remember waking up and wetting, my daddy got so proud of me. He teased me for being his good little bedwetting girl, and told me how excited he was to change all of my diapers in the mornings once I start wetting the bed every night. Praise goes a long way in making your little excited to wet the bed for you.

Wetting the bed

The first time I wet the bed, I thought it was a fluke. I had dribbled in my diaper as I fell asleep, and I remember it felt warm and nice as I drifted off. I slept deeply that night, and when I woke up, my butt felt super puffy and firm. I turned over and it felt heavier than when I'd fallen asleep, and it was warm; I could tell my diaper was fuller and soggier than when I fell asleep. When I got up and looked in the mirror, I knew I'd wet the bed. The back of my diaper was all puffy, like a pillow, and there was a large, round wet spot covering the butt. The front of my diaper was still fairly dry, while the back was soaked. That's the mark of a bedwetter, right there.

Once it happened for the first time, it didn't mean I was fully untrained. I kept up the routine consistently, and started having fewer and fewer nights where I'd woken up and wet. More nights where I barely remembered or had wet the bed entirely.

I took a break for a week to go on a family vacation, and I didn't wet the bed. I wore pull-ups every night out of fear (and comfort), but I'd need to train longer to wet those. I was happy to be dry in what would've been an awkward situation, and I found the week off didn't impede my progress at all. The week I got back, I wet the bed three times! The next week I wet even more. It's all about consistency, praise, and knowing you're making progress.

What's next

Now, I've found a system that works well for me. I stay hydrated during the day so my body doesn't just process the water I drink before bed because it desperately needs it (please make healthy hydration choices. Don't overhydrate, that's not what I'm saying).

I drink my whole bottle after I've turned off my light, put my phone or book down, and gotten under the covers. It's literally my last step before closing my eyes for the night. I also wear thick nighttime diapers so I never have to worry about leaking.

Next on the training docket for me and my daddy is practicing wetting the bed with less padding. He'd love to put me to bed without diapers for a night and wake up to find a warm, wet puddle spreading across the sheets under me while I'm still peacefully asleep. With how quickly this has progressed, I wouldn't be surprised if I've had a genuine sheets-wetting, diaper-free bedwetting accident by the end of the summer.

Thanks @argent-dl for the question that inspired this post! Hope it's helpful.

If anyone follows these steps, let me know how it goes, or if any advice is helpful! 😊😊😊

[i3diapers]

The Challenge

You’ve worked at Regression School for over a decade. You’ve seen all kinds of Littles—reluctant ones, rebellious ones, even clever manipulators who smiled sweetly and plotted potty escapes the moment your back was turned. But none—none—had ever been quite like Melanie.

She didn’t cry when she was admitted. She didn’t protest during orientation. No, Melanie had stared you down, pacifier clipped neatly to her alphabet-print shirt, and simply stayed silent.

Day one had passed uneventfully. She’d sat quietly through nap time, toddled obediently through the halls in her light-up shoes, and even colored neatly within the lines. But she hadn’t asked for the potty. Not once.

You made a note of it in her chart, just like all the others.

But day two had been… different.

The scene replays in your mind like a snapshot—Melanie in the middle of the reading circle, crinkling just slightly in her training pull-ups, legs crossed daintily and an air of defiance in her every motion. The class was quiet, listening to Miss Jenny read "The Little Bunny’s Big Day", and Melanie had shifted once… then again… and then—

A soft hiss.

You weren’t the only one who noticed. Her pull-ups bloated subtly under her sundress, then darkened. You watched the creeping stain, the slow sag. By the time she stood up, it was clear—too clear.

“Oh no, sweetie,” Miss Jenny had said gently, taking her hand. “Looks like you need a change.”

Melanie’s eyes found you across the room.

It wasn’t an accident. That much was obvious.

She wanted you to see.

There wasn’t embarrassment or shame in them. Only a glint of challenge.

And so, on day three, you did what any seasoned caregiver at Regression School would do when confronted with such behavior—you removed the option for rebellion.

No more training pants. No more pull-ups. Melanie was returned from the changing room swaddled securely in a thick white medical diaper, double-taped at the hips, with a telltale yellow wetness indicator running down the center.

She didn’t say a word about it.

But her eyes found yours again.

Still challenging.

Still daring you.

You called her to your office after lunch. Not because of misbehavior—she’d followed every rule to the letter—but because you needed to understand her. Littles who gave up too easily were boring. Ones who resisted forever were exhausting. But Melanie… she was something else.

The door to your office clicked shut behind her with a quiet finality. Melanie didn’t flinch. She didn’t even glance at the plush pastel posters or the stack of reward stickers lined up like medals on your shelf.

She flopped into the chair across from your desk with practiced ease, legs parting carelessly, the thick white diaper beneath her riding high and proud, crinkling as she settled in.

“Well?” she asked, eyes steady on yours. “Gonna give me another sticker for coloring inside the lines?”

You folded your hands on the desk.

“No,” you replied, voice calm but firm. “That’s not the point. Most Littles need days—sometimes weeks—before they finally let go. They cling to their old habits, clutching at that last shred of potty training like it’s sacred. But you…” You let your eyes travel down briefly to the faint yellow bloom beginning to show on her diaper. “You gave it up from the start.”

Melanie didn’t look away. But the corner of her mouth twitched half amusement, half bitterness.

“So what do you want?” she asked, voice low and cool, though her fingers fidgeted slightly on the soft pink arms of the chair. “A tantrum? Some tears? You won’t get them.”

You leaned back in your seat, studying her.

“Why you’ve surrendered so easily… but still look at me like you're winning.”

That cracked something. A flicker behind her eyes. She sighed and reached up to brush a lock of auburn hair off her cheek, the pacifier bouncing lightly on its clip.

“You think I had a choice?” she said finally. “We both know what Regression School is. No one gets enrolled and leaves with their potty training intact."

“So that’s it, then?” you asked softly, watching her shift again in the chair. “You’re just going to go along with it? Play the perfect Little, as long as you get to pretend you’re still in control?”

Melanie’s eyes sparked again, her lips curling—not sweetly, not submissively, but with a slyness that could cut.

“I never said I was pretending.”

The silence was punctuated only by the quiet hum of the overhead fan. And then—

She shifted her weight with deliberate slowness, planting her feet on either side of the plush chair, knees spread wide. The pacifier on her clip bobbed gently with the motion. Her hands slid to the cushioned arms, steadying herself, and her gaze never left yours.

Then came the sound.

It started soft. A barely audible grunt from Melanie, low and unhurried, followed by a sudden crackle, muffled by layers of thick padding. Her brow furrowed slightly, not in discomfort, but focus. A long, hot breath escaped her lips, and the unmistakable squish and squelch of her diaper filling echoed faintly between the walls.

You watched as the pristine white bulk beneath her dress puffed outward at the back, sagging visibly, discoloring slightly around the edges. The wetness indicator had already begun to blur from yellow to green, but now—now it was joined by a bulging distortion that left no doubt. The smell followed quickly, sweet and sour, familiar.

And Melanie?

She grinned.

“Oops,” she said, voice syrup-sweet and mock-innocent. “Guess I really am settling in.”

You stared at her, half in disbelief and half in awe.

Most Littles hid it the first few times. Curled up, covered their faces, whimpered. But Melanie—Melanie leaned back, legs spread, a fresh mess ballooning softly in the seat of her now thoroughly used diaper, sagging and squishing as she shifted her hips just a little more.

“This what you wanted to see?” she whispered.

You didn’t answer right away. You couldn’t. Because this—this wasn't surrender. It wasn’t defeat.

It was power.

And Melanie knew it.

“Well,” you said finally, rising from your seat and circling your desk slowly. “I think it’s time for a fresh diaper, little one.”

Melanie just smiled wider, utterly unashamed. “Then you better bring the thick ones. I don’t think I’m done yet.”

She wasn’t embarrassed.

She wasn’t broken.

She was in control of this, of you, of the moment.

[i3diapers]

🍼reblog if your littlespace age is 0-3 🍼

[i3diapers]

Can you say 'whuf whuf," puppy?

Pansy-Leatherwork.com

Backup @thyfl3shconsumed

[i3diapers]

hey anyone know what phone case this is? please ignore the text

[i3diapers]

Say It Ain’t So

You’ve known Olivia for basically your entire life.

And had a crush on her just as long.

Though there was never any chance for it to be anything more than unrequited love.

It wasn’t because she was your Mom’s best friend’s daughter—it was because you never managed to get a hang of potty training.

She’s been teasing you about your diapers since she was potty trained. An unfortunate habit that she never broke all these years later.

Sure, it was never truly mean—but when you’re 16 being marched off to have your Mom change your poopy diaper in family bathroom is Disneyland, it might as well be.

You watched as she grew into the beautiful woman she is. Heard all about her thriving social life, parties, and eventually, sexcapades as you sat there is a soggy diaper, brimming with jealousy.

She tried to buoy your popularity in high school—but even the popular girl’s power of persuasion is limited when the guy she’s fighting for still poops his pampers.

Your hangouts nearly ended when you both started college. Between school and her social life, finding time to hang out with her mom and her incontinent friend wasn’t a priority.

Today was a rare exception.

It also yielded an even rarer opportunity. Your moms decided to go on a wine run, leaving the two of you alone.

And for some reason, she invited you into her room.

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever, Chris! How is everything?”

“It’s been fine, but I have like 5 midterms this week.”

“Awww, that blows. I know how icky your tummy gets when you’re stressed. You gonna be okay?”

You hate when she says things like that—mostly because they’re true.

“I’ll be fine, Olivia.”

“I’m not worried about you, silly. Just those poor diapies…”

To your surprise, she reaches out and grabs your diaper, squeezing it slowly…lingering.

Staring deep into your eyes.

“I…I…,” you stutter, consumed with pleasure mixed with confusion and shock.

“You’re still a virgin, aren’t you, Chris?”

You shake your head, but without conviction.

“Chris,” she purrs, still rubbing your diaper ever so gently, “It’s me. You don’t need to lie to me. I know it’s hard when you’re still in diapers.”

“Y-yeah,” you wheeze, not wanting her to stop despite your confusion and not knowing what to do.

“It must be so hard for you. Wishing you could be like everyone else, wishing you could escape your squishy diapers. Watching everyone have fun while all you can do is rub your pampers.”

You wince…if she only knew your Mom punished you whenever she found your stickies in your diaper.

You’re not even allowed that.

Only the soft crinkles of your diaper, playing to the rhythm of her hand breaks the silence.

“Don’t you want to know what it feels like, Chris?” she whispers, squeezing your diaper, “To be with a woman? To be with…me?”

Your knees buckle slightly at her words, betraying your attempt to keep your cool.

“I know you do, silly. I can feel what’s under all that soggy padding. Feel your excitement. Do you want me to stop, Chris?”

You shake your head.

She giggles, rubbing slightly faster. “I didn’t think so. I don’t want to stop, either. But can you do something for me first?”

By now your brain is nearly short-circuiting, feeling too good to wonder why this is happening.”

“A-anything Olivia,” you moan.

“Take off those shorts, silly boy.”

You hesitate for a split second. It’s been years since she’s seen your diaper.

“Don’t be shy! You don’t want the rubbies to go away, do you?”

You pull down your shorts, exposing your yellow diaper.

“Good boy! And your shirt?”

“M-my sh-shirt, Olivia?”

“Yes, Chris,” she says slowly pulling up your shirt.

She tosses it next to your shirt, giving a few seconds of quick rubbies in reward.

“Very good. Now. One last thing. I want to watch you make your poopies for me. And if you do I’ll give you a special reward.”

Your brain is in an all out civil war. You want nothing more than a “special reward,” fueled by her continued diaper rubbing.

But to poop yourself for her? As she watches?

“I know you’re going to poop soon, I heard your mom saying she can’t be out too long because you’re due anytime. Might as well do it for me, Chris…”

She isn’t wrong—your tummy has already started to rumble. But still…

She presses her hands in your shoulders, pushing you down. “C’mon, Chris. Squat down and make a big poopoo in your diaper for me.”

You let yourself squat, eyes wide as your body takes over—like a wingman helping out.

“Oh my gosh!” Olivia squeals as she hears you grunt. She slides her hand to your bum, giggling as she feels you fill your diaper.

“Good boy, going poopoo for me!”

You try not to think about how ridiculous you must look, squatting in nothing but a diaper as your crush watches on, completely rapt by the scene.

“All done, Chrisypoo? Wow! What a big mess! You do this twice a day? Your poor Mom!”

Before you even have time to blush she turns you around and pushes you on the bed. A loud squelch echoes from your diaper as you land on your mess.

“Good boys deserve their rewards, don’t they?”

She squeezes your mess before rubbing again.

Slowly.

Methodically. You moan in pleasure as you thrust your hips into your hand.

“Slow down, cowboy! You earned more than some simple rubbies! But if you want them, you’ll have to beg for it. Beg me to ride your poopy diapie, Chris.”

You’d do or say anything for more at this point.

“P-please r-ride my po-o-poopy diapie, Olivia. Please…”

“Awww! Say ‘please be my first, Olivia! Be the first to make me make squirties in my diapie.”

You obey, too desperate and needy to care about anything but the next few minutes.

“Such a good, stinky boy! Are you ready?”

She walks toward you, smiling. Tauntingly slow.

You tremble in anticipation. Your body shakes violently as she straddles your overworked diaper. As you feel her through your diaper.

If it feels this good through your diaper, you can only imagine what it’s like to be in her, without your pathetic padding in the way. “You didn’t make squirties already, you silly boy?” she teases as her hips gyrate.

Her thrusts start slowly at first, building speed with every pass. Pleasure bubbling in you like a volcano ready to erupt.

Your ragged breathing, the cacophony of crinkles, and her teasing moans fill the room, a symphony you’ll never forget.

Just as your pleasure is about to reach its zenith, you hear her voice.

“You won’t get in trouble if your mom finds your stickies in your diapie, right?”

She laughs, thrusting faster, feeling your trembling beneath the padding.

“Oh, well. Too late now! Explode for me, my stinky little diaper boy! Go on, show me how thankful you are!”

The thought of your Mom’s reaction clashes with the pleasure from Olivia’s body.

The worst possible thought at the worst possible time. Panic floods your brain—but it’s too late.

It happened suddenly and violently. You scream in pleasure as you fill your diaper with another mess.

“Good job!!” Olivia coos, stopping her thrusts and standing up and leaving the room, “I hope it was worth it, Chrisypoo!”

You lay there breathing deeply, feeling better than you’ve ever felt before. But as the waves of pleasure recede, terror grows inside you.

Your mom will spank you right there—in front of Olivia—when she finds what you did.

There’s only one thing to do. You have to change before she sees.

It’s better to be punished for that crime, at least.

But you only manage to put your clothes back on when you hear the front door open.

“We’re home!”

“Just in time, I think Chris needs a diaper change—he stinks.”

“Chris, come here. Let me check your diaper, honey.”

You march towards your mom like a condemned man towards the gallows.

Olivia winks as your mom peels back your diaper, loudly announcing she needs to change your poopy diaper.

[i3diapers]

[i3diapers]

[i3diapers]

Worth 1,000 Words

Logan had been unusually quiet for the past twenty minutes, which was always Samantha’s first red flag. She'd babysat her Brother-in-law more than a few times now. Usually, he was either pouting and whining like a brat, or he was cooing and 'goo gooing' like the loser Samantha warned her sister he would be.

“You’ve been quiet,” she said, stepping into the playroom and folding her arms. “That usually means trouble.”

Logan had been hunched over his coloring book, furiously scribbling into it with one of his crayons before she walked in. At the sudden sound of her voice, Logan flinched so hard he snapped the crayon in half. In a panic, he scrambled to flip through the coloring book, the crinkling of the paper echoing louder than the rustling of his diaper.

It couldn't have been more incriminating, but Samantha played coy, slowly sauntering over and kneeling beside him. “Whatcha working on, kiddo?” she asked in a sultry voice, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Logan looked up with a guilty flicker in his eyes, he shifted uncomfortably, diaper crinkling, trying to shield his face with his ridiculous teddy bear and using his other hand to reach for the book.

Too slow.

With a single, smooth motion, Samantha snatched up the coloring book. Her eyes narrowed as she flipped through the pages one by one, humming softly to herself—a quiet, almost cheerful little tune—as her fingers brushed over the edges of the coloring book.

Logan sat frozen, his cheeks flushed and legs fidgeting on the carpet. The silence was worse than a lecture. Every page she turned made the pit in his stomach twist tighter.

Her eyes narrowed as she flipped slowly through the book, like a detective already certain of the crime, just collecting the final piece of evidence.

“You’re awfully squirmy all of a sudden,” she murmured without looking at him, still humming lightly. “Almost like someone’s feeling guilty...is it your diaper? Did you do something in your diaper??”

Her hands darted between his legs, gripping the padding with no regard for boundaries or personal space. Her eyes danced along the ceiling as she poked and prodded and groped and squeezed and poked some more.

"Hmmm, you're all dry...that's a first! And I know you don't have poo poo's...I would have smelled that from down the hall!" she giggled to herself, "but what about stickies? Were you being a naughty boy and making goo goo's?"

She tossed the coloring book down onto the floor, needing both of her hands so that one could lift his shirt and the other could pull out his waistband so she could get a peek inside.

"Hmmm..." she intoned, moving her head back and forth to get a better look. Tracing her painted nail over the front of his flattened steel chastity device, tapping it, sending shivers up his spine and down his legs, then running a finger over his balls. "No stickies!" she proclaimed with a wide smile, pulling her hands back to clap approvingly and give him an approving pinch on the cheek.

"Well then what could it be that's got you so squirmy? Hmmm?"

Her lip curled as she reached for the coloring book again. Logan had hoped she would have forgotten about it, that this all would have blown over, but there she was, using Logan's sticky pre-cum on her finger to flip through the pages again.

Cartoon bears and trucks and crocodiles on unicycles went by, each one meticulously colored and shaded to near perfection. Of course Logan was good at it, it was how he had to spend most of his “play time” these days. You should see how well he could stack wooden blocks….

Samantha found it amusing to think about what state Logan's diaper must have been in while he colored each page. This had to be when he was in a particularly messy one. She thought, judging by the more rushed scratches and strokes.

Logan whimpered behind his pacifier, hands balled into the hem of his shirt. He didn’t dare move. Not now. With every turn of the page she could sense his anxiety growing.

Finally, she found it, and let out an exaggerated gasp.

“And what do we have here??” she said, dragging out each word with theatrical mock-surprise.

Logan's heart sank. He shrank into himself, face turning a deep shade of red as he avoided eye contact, pacifier bobbing nervously.

She slowly turned the book around, holding it up like a piece of evidence in a courtroom. The crayon drawing stared back at Logan in full, embarrassing color. Over the blank outline of a cartoon bunny was Logan's depiction of a beautiful, busty woman getting plowed by a man with giant muscles and an even bigger dick.

“Well now,” she said, tapping the page with her finger, trying to contain her laughter and maintain her stern demeanor, “if you’re going to make pictures like this, I think we need to hear you explain them properly.” She pulled the pacifier from his pursed lips, it reluctantly gave way with a plop!

"Who is this, Logan?" Samantha asked, holding the coloring book steady in front of his flushed face, her tone sweet and slow—far too calm for Logan’s comfort. When his head turned away beneath her fierce gaze, she gripped him by the chin forcing him to look at her, asking again, harsher this time. "Who is it, Logan? Tell me."

Logan fidgeted, eyes darting toward the door as if an escape might magically present itself. It didn’t.

“Is this...Amanda?” She asked, pointing to the woman getting pounded and split open by the big strong man. Even in crayon, it was pretty obvious. "Is this my sister? Is this your wife??"

Logan hesitated, cheeks burning. Then, finally, he nodded.

Samantha arched an eyebrow. “Use your words, sweetheart.”

“…Y-yes,” he mumbled.

"And what do you really call her, Logie?" she asked.

"....M-mommy..."

"Very goood!!!" Samantha cooed, clapping overexcitedly. "And what about this?" she said, tracing her finger to the huge man with prominent veins bulging out of his cock and biceps.

Logan looked like he was about to cave in on himself, he lifted his Teddy bear instinctively to try to hide behind it like he does when Samantha is changing his dirty diapers. She gave him a sharp tap on his wrist. "Who's the big man in the picture, Logie? Is that supposed to be you??"

She could hardly contain her laughter at the sheer audacity, but Logan was relatively quick at shaking his head 'no'.

"Then who is it Logie?"

He looked so embarrassed, cheeks darker than crimson. "It's...it's Mr. D-d-d-Dominic..."

"And who is Mr. Dominic?" Samantha beckoned, again playing the fool.

"M-mommy's...friend..."

Samantha couldn't contain the grin on her face as she watched her pitiful brother-in-law squirm beneath her, "And what do you call him?"

Logan's head was aimed at the floor. Finally, he muttered in the softest of voices: "Daddy..."

After Samantha was finally done cackling, she felt a pang of sympathy at the pitiful man before her. She lifted his chin once more. "Awww! Don't be sad, little one! This is a really great picture! And you looked happy to do it! Why don't you tell me what's happening??"

Logan's mouth hung open for a while, she could tell he was inwardly cursing himself for ever putting his thoughts out on paper for his sister-in-law to see, but he wanted this ordeal to be over with.

"He is fucking her in--"

"Ahp!" Samantha quickly interjected, stopping him. "Is that how widdle baybees speak?"

Logan's diaper crinkled loudly as he shifted on the floor uncomfortably, still struggling to find the right words, but a picture is worth 1,000 of them. He huffed again, then let his voice hit that high-pitched register. "Ith Misturr Dawminik...errr...Daddy putting his...pee pee in M-mommy..."

"Ooooh!! And is Mommy liking it?"

He nodded.

"Speak up, diaper boy!" Samantha barked.

"Y-yes Mith Samanthwa, Mommy wikes it..." he said, then mumbled to himself, "she wikes it a wot..."

"I bet she does!!" Samantha giggled, knowing her sister's taste very well, "Mommy likes BIG pee pee's doesn't she?"

He nodded meekly.

"And wittle Logee doesn't have a big pee pee does he??"

He shook his head.

"Say it, Logan."

"I don't have a big pee pee..."

"Noooo!!! Not at all!" She cackled. "Auntie Samantha has changed PLENTY of your diapies to know what you have going on inside of them! What do you have Logee??"

His face flushed a fresh shade of purple as he mumbled, "a...a wittle baybee dick..."

"That's right!! You sure do!!" Samantha cooed, pinching his cheeks again before returning to the coloring book, pressing her finger to the bottom of the page.

“And who’s this little guy way off in the corner down here?” she asked, already knowing.

“Me,” Logan grumbled.

"This one? The little man in the corner watching? That's you??"

Logan almost rolled his eyes, but instead he just nodded again.

"And what is he wearing?"

He looked down between his own legs, "Diapers."

"Diapers..." Samantha repeated, "Is that where you belong?"

"Yeth Auntie Sammy..."

Samantha giggled again, wagging the book back and forth while she sang in a sing-song voice "Widdle baby cucky in a diapee, watchin’ grown-ups be all big and strong while he piddles in his little pampers!! Look! You even colored it brown at the bottom!"

Logan looked away. She could tell she was losing him, hammering the point home a little too hard, so she took his hand softly and placed his pacifier back in his mouth to sooth him.

"Is this how you see yourself, Logie? How you see your new family?"

He sniffled, then nodded.

"Does it make you...happy?"

He considered that for a long moment. His little babybrain spinning. Finally, he seemed to have come to a conclusion.

"...Yes." He said behind his pacifier.

"That's perfectly fine, baybee boi!" She said sweetly, placing her cheek in her palm and stroking it gently with her thumb. "It's good you know your place in the picture! You're just a widdle bayybee for your Mommy and Daddy!" After finally coaxing a smile out of him, Samantha realized it was time to play her part in this while picture.

"Now tell me..." she said, shifting to a sterner tone as she picked up the book once more. "Is this something appropriate for a widdle baybee to be drawing?"

Logan's eyes went wide, realizing he was in big trouble. He fitfully shook his head no, whimpering and whining behind his pacifier in hopes it would earn him mercy.

She tapped the page. “Nooo it sure isn’t! You know better. Now I know that little caged up diaper cucks like you don't get to watch big boy movies, especially naughty big boy movies! But that does not mean you get to make naughty pornographic pictures of your own!"

She stood over him, watching him cringe beneath her shadow. “You’re in diapers, sweetheart. That means you color outside the lines, stick to bunnies and bears, and do NOT draw pictures that are too big for you!"

Logan blushed and babbled behind his pacifier, terrified, squirming, wriggling and writhing.

On the outside, Samantha kept her expression firm, brow raised and lips pursed in disapproval. But inside? She was cackling.

The whole thing wasn't even a big deal. He wasn't technically doing anything wrong. In fact, Samantha found the whole thing quite amusing--and even a little bit sweet. In a weird, perverted type of way. But that didn't mean she couldn't take advantage of being a stern caretaker. She liked to have her fun too.

"I think we need to have a little lesson on what's appropriate for diaper losers like you!”

*****

30 minutes later, Logan knelt in the corner of the room, his nose pressed gently against the wall. In front of him, held up awkwardly between his nose and the pastel colored paint, was the paper Samantha had ripped out of Logan's coloring book. He stared at the big, bulging cock he'd drew, and read the letters Samantha had made him write over it in big crayon letters:

“Boys in dirty diapers don't draw dirty pictures.”

“Boys in dirty diapers don't draw dirty pictures.”

“Boys in dirty diapers don't draw dirty pictures.”

“Boys in dirty diapers don't draw dirty pictures.”

Each line was carefully spaced, a little shaky—writing after getting a harsh, bare-bottom spanking over someone's knee wasn't easy, especially when you were still crying and sniffling.

Samantha sat nearby, sipping tea and admiring how bright red she made his ass cheeks that were still peeking out of his pulled down diaper. She checked her watch. “Twenty more minutes,” she said cheerfully. “And if that paper drops before I say so, you will go back over my knee, and we start over. Understood?”

Logan nodded, tears sliding down the bridge of his nose and smudging the paper it was pressed into.

Samantha smiled to herself. He could cry all he wanted—but deep down, she knew this was what he wanted. He liked being a little diaper cuck, even if he hated to admit it. No matter, he’d be admitting it to his ‘Mommy’ and ‘Daddy’ when he presented his little drawing to them later.

And next time? Maybe he’d stick to coloring bunnies.

[i3diapers]

Worth 1,000 Words

Logan had been unusually quiet for the past twenty minutes, which was always Samantha’s first red flag. She'd babysat her Brother-in-law more than a few times now. Usually, he was either pouting and whining like a brat, or he was cooing and 'goo gooing' like the loser Samantha warned her sister he would be.

“You’ve been quiet,” she said, stepping into the playroom and folding her arms. “That usually means trouble.”

Logan had been hunched over his coloring book, furiously scribbling into it with one of his crayons before she walked in. At the sudden sound of her voice, Logan flinched so hard he snapped the crayon in half. In a panic, he scrambled to flip through the coloring book, the crinkling of the paper echoing louder than the rustling of his diaper.

It couldn't have been more incriminating, but Samantha played coy, slowly sauntering over and kneeling beside him. “Whatcha working on, kiddo?” she asked in a sultry voice, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Logan looked up with a guilty flicker in his eyes, he shifted uncomfortably, diaper crinkling, trying to shield his face with his ridiculous teddy bear and using his other hand to reach for the book.

Too slow.

With a single, smooth motion, Samantha snatched up the coloring book. Her eyes narrowed as she flipped through the pages one by one, humming softly to herself—a quiet, almost cheerful little tune—as her fingers brushed over the edges of the coloring book.

Logan sat frozen, his cheeks flushed and legs fidgeting on the carpet. The silence was worse than a lecture. Every page she turned made the pit in his stomach twist tighter.

Her eyes narrowed as she flipped slowly through the book, like a detective already certain of the crime, just collecting the final piece of evidence.

“You’re awfully squirmy all of a sudden,” she murmured without looking at him, still humming lightly. “Almost like someone’s feeling guilty...is it your diaper? Did you do something in your diaper??”

Her hands darted between his legs, gripping the padding with no regard for boundaries or personal space. Her eyes danced along the ceiling as she poked and prodded and groped and squeezed and poked some more.

"Hmmm, you're all dry...that's a first! And I know you don't have poo poo's...I would have smelled that from down the hall!" she giggled to herself, "but what about stickies? Were you being a naughty boy and making goo goo's?"

She tossed the coloring book down onto the floor, needing both of her hands so that one could lift his shirt and the other could pull out his waistband so she could get a peek inside.

"Hmmm..." she intoned, moving her head back and forth to get a better look. Tracing her painted nail over the front of his flattened steel chastity device, tapping it, sending shivers up his spine and down his legs, then running a finger over his balls. "No stickies!" she proclaimed with a wide smile, pulling her hands back to clap approvingly and give him an approving pinch on the cheek.

"Well then what could it be that's got you so squirmy? Hmmm?"

Her lip curled as she reached for the coloring book again. Logan had hoped she would have forgotten about it, that this all would have blown over, but there she was, using Logan's sticky pre-cum on her finger to flip through the pages again.

Cartoon bears and trucks and crocodiles on unicycles went by, each one meticulously colored and shaded to near perfection. Of course Logan was good at it, it was how he had to spend most of his “play time” these days. You should see how well he could stack wooden blocks….

Samantha found it amusing to think about what state Logan's diaper must have been in while he colored each page. This had to be when he was in a particularly messy one. She thought, judging by the more rushed scratches and strokes.

Logan whimpered behind his pacifier, hands balled into the hem of his shirt. He didn’t dare move. Not now. With every turn of the page she could sense his anxiety growing.

Finally, she found it, and let out an exaggerated gasp.

“And what do we have here??” she said, dragging out each word with theatrical mock-surprise.

Logan's heart sank. He shrank into himself, face turning a deep shade of red as he avoided eye contact, pacifier bobbing nervously.

She slowly turned the book around, holding it up like a piece of evidence in a courtroom. The crayon drawing stared back at Logan in full, embarrassing color. Over the blank outline of a cartoon bunny was Logan's depiction of a beautiful, busty woman getting plowed by a man with giant muscles and an even bigger dick.

“Well now,” she said, tapping the page with her finger, trying to contain her laughter and maintain her stern demeanor, “if you’re going to make pictures like this, I think we need to hear you explain them properly.” She pulled the pacifier from his pursed lips, it reluctantly gave way with a plop!

"Who is this, Logan?" Samantha asked, holding the coloring book steady in front of his flushed face, her tone sweet and slow—far too calm for Logan’s comfort. When his head turned away beneath her fierce gaze, she gripped him by the chin forcing him to look at her, asking again, harsher this time. "Who is it, Logan? Tell me."

Logan fidgeted, eyes darting toward the door as if an escape might magically present itself. It didn’t.

“Is this...Amanda?” She asked, pointing to the woman getting pounded and split open by the big strong man. Even in crayon, it was pretty obvious. "Is this my sister? Is this your wife??"

Logan hesitated, cheeks burning. Then, finally, he nodded.

Samantha arched an eyebrow. “Use your words, sweetheart.”

“…Y-yes,” he mumbled.

"And what do you really call her, Logie?" she asked.

"....M-mommy..."

"Very goood!!!" Samantha cooed, clapping overexcitedly. "And what about this?" she said, tracing her finger to the huge man with prominent veins bulging out of his cock and biceps.

Logan looked like he was about to cave in on himself, he lifted his Teddy bear instinctively to try to hide behind it like he does when Samantha is changing his dirty diapers. She gave him a sharp tap on his wrist. "Who's the big man in the picture, Logie? Is that supposed to be you??"

She could hardly contain her laughter at the sheer audacity, but Logan was relatively quick at shaking his head 'no'.

"Then who is it Logie?"

He looked so embarrassed, cheeks darker than crimson. "It's...it's Mr. D-d-d-Dominic..."

"And who is Mr. Dominic?" Samantha beckoned, again playing the fool.

"M-mommy's...friend..."

Samantha couldn't contain the grin on her face as she watched her pitiful brother-in-law squirm beneath her, "And what do you call him?"

Logan's head was aimed at the floor. Finally, he muttered in the softest of voices: "Daddy..."

After Samantha was finally done cackling, she felt a pang of sympathy at the pitiful man before her. She lifted his chin once more. "Awww! Don't be sad, little one! This is a really great picture! And you looked happy to do it! Why don't you tell me what's happening??"

Logan's mouth hung open for a while, she could tell he was inwardly cursing himself for ever putting his thoughts out on paper for his sister-in-law to see, but he wanted this ordeal to be over with.

"He is fucking her in--"

"Ahp!" Samantha quickly interjected, stopping him. "Is that how widdle baybees speak?"

Logan's diaper crinkled loudly as he shifted on the floor uncomfortably, still struggling to find the right words, but a picture is worth 1,000 of them. He huffed again, then let his voice hit that high-pitched register. "Ith Misturr Dawminik...errr...Daddy putting his...pee pee in M-mommy..."

"Ooooh!! And is Mommy liking it?"

He nodded.

"Speak up, diaper boy!" Samantha barked.

"Y-yes Mith Samanthwa, Mommy wikes it..." he said, then mumbled to himself, "she wikes it a wot..."

"I bet she does!!" Samantha giggled, knowing her sister's taste very well, "Mommy likes BIG pee pee's doesn't she?"

He nodded meekly.

"And wittle Logee doesn't have a big pee pee does he??"

He shook his head.

"Say it, Logan."

"I don't have a big pee pee..."

"Noooo!!! Not at all!" She cackled. "Auntie Samantha has changed PLENTY of your diapies to know what you have going on inside of them! What do you have Logee??"

His face flushed a fresh shade of purple as he mumbled, "a...a wittle baybee dick..."

"That's right!! You sure do!!" Samantha cooed, pinching his cheeks again before returning to the coloring book, pressing her finger to the bottom of the page.

“And who’s this little guy way off in the corner down here?” she asked, already knowing.

“Me,” Logan grumbled.

"This one? The little man in the corner watching? That's you??"

Logan almost rolled his eyes, but instead he just nodded again.

"And what is he wearing?"

He looked down between his own legs, "Diapers."

"Diapers..." Samantha repeated, "Is that where you belong?"

"Yeth Auntie Sammy..."

Samantha giggled again, wagging the book back and forth while she sang in a sing-song voice "Widdle baby cucky in a diapee, watchin’ grown-ups be all big and strong while he piddles in his little pampers!! Look! You even colored it brown at the bottom!"

Logan looked away. She could tell she was losing him, hammering the point home a little too hard, so she took his hand softly and placed his pacifier back in his mouth to sooth him.

"Is this how you see yourself, Logie? How you see your new family?"

He sniffled, then nodded.

"Does it make you...happy?"

He considered that for a long moment. His little babybrain spinning. Finally, he seemed to have come to a conclusion.

"...Yes." He said behind his pacifier.

"That's perfectly fine, baybee boi!" She said sweetly, placing her cheek in her palm and stroking it gently with her thumb. "It's good you know your place in the picture! You're just a widdle bayybee for your Mommy and Daddy!" After finally coaxing a smile out of him, Samantha realized it was time to play her part in this while picture.

"Now tell me..." she said, shifting to a sterner tone as she picked up the book once more. "Is this something appropriate for a widdle baybee to be drawing?"

Logan's eyes went wide, realizing he was in big trouble. He fitfully shook his head no, whimpering and whining behind his pacifier in hopes it would earn him mercy.

She tapped the page. “Nooo it sure isn’t! You know better. Now I know that little caged up diaper cucks like you don't get to watch big boy movies, especially naughty big boy movies! But that does not mean you get to make naughty pornographic pictures of your own!"

She stood over him, watching him cringe beneath her shadow. “You’re in diapers, sweetheart. That means you color outside the lines, stick to bunnies and bears, and do NOT draw pictures that are too big for you!"

Logan blushed and babbled behind his pacifier, terrified, squirming, wriggling and writhing.

On the outside, Samantha kept her expression firm, brow raised and lips pursed in disapproval. But inside? She was cackling.

The whole thing wasn't even a big deal. He wasn't technically doing anything wrong. In fact, Samantha found the whole thing quite amusing--and even a little bit sweet. In a weird, perverted type of way. But that didn't mean she couldn't take advantage of being a stern caretaker. She liked to have her fun too.

"I think we need to have a little lesson on what's appropriate for diaper losers like you!”

*****

30 minutes later, Logan knelt in the corner of the room, his nose pressed gently against the wall. In front of him, held up awkwardly between his nose and the pastel colored paint, was the paper Samantha had ripped out of Logan's coloring book. He stared at the big, bulging cock he'd drew, and read the letters Samantha had made him write over it in big crayon letters:

“Boys in dirty diapers don't draw dirty pictures.”

“Boys in dirty diapers don't draw dirty pictures.”

“Boys in dirty diapers don't draw dirty pictures.”

“Boys in dirty diapers don't draw dirty pictures.”

Each line was carefully spaced, a little shaky—writing after getting a harsh, bare-bottom spanking over someone's knee wasn't easy, especially when you were still crying and sniffling.

Samantha sat nearby, sipping tea and admiring how bright red she made his ass cheeks that were still peeking out of his pulled down diaper. She checked her watch. “Twenty more minutes,” she said cheerfully. “And if that paper drops before I say so, you will go back over my knee, and we start over. Understood?”

Logan nodded, tears sliding down the bridge of his nose and smudging the paper it was pressed into.

Samantha smiled to herself. He could cry all he wanted—but deep down, she knew this was what he wanted. He liked being a little diaper cuck, even if he hated to admit it. No matter, he’d be admitting it to his ‘Mommy’ and ‘Daddy’ when he presented his little drawing to them later.

And next time? Maybe he’d stick to coloring bunnies.

[i3diapers]

Wisdom Teeth Wetting (AB/DL Story, CNC, Medfet)

By reading this, you certify that you are at least 18 years old and consent to viewing adult-themed material. All characters depicted within the contents of this post are adults aged 18 years and older. _

Piper had put off getting her wisdom teeth removed for far too long. When she turned 26, her boyfriend, Miles, told her it needed to get done. They were impacted, and though they didn't cause her much pain, Piper was always in some level of discomfort because of them. There was constant mild pressure in her head, and she got frequent headaches. Miles had enough of seeing his girlfriend suffer in pain, so he urged her to make the appointment.

On the day of the operation, Miles drove Piper to the oral surgeon. She fidgeted in the car during the whole trip. She nervously knocked her knees together and folded her hands in her lap. Miles did his best to soothe her, gently caressing her shoulder. "Hey, it's gonna be okay," he said. "I promise, you'll be in and out in no time. You won't feel a thing. It'll be just like falling asleep and then next thing you know, you're in bed with me getting all the snuggles! Plus, ice cream!"

His words did little to ease her anxiety, but she put on a brave face and nodded along. When they arrived at the dentist's, Miles gave Piper a quick hug and wave before the dental assistant ushered her into the operating room. Piper sat in the dental chair, doing her best to remain still and keep from fidgeting. "Nervous, honey?" the dental assistant asked. She was just a few years older than Piper, probably in her mid-30s, but the way she spoke to her made Piper feel like a little kid sitting in the big dentist's chair.

"Mhm," Piper nodded. "I've never had any teeth pulled before."

"I know it can be scary, but you're doing such a great job. Just hold tight for me, okay? We'll get you out of here in a jiff."

Piper took a deep breath. The dentist walked into the room. He was an older man with gray hair and a short, well-trimmed beard. He had a stern look on his face that made Piper quiver. "All ready to go?" He asked his assistant.

"Everything's ready," she replied. Piper watched in terror as she pulled out a long needle and gave it a flick. She knew this was coming. Still, the sight of the thing made her cheeks go cold. She tensed up, gripping the arms of the chair tightly. The dentist took the syringe and walked over to Piper. Just before he inserted it into her arm, she tried to pull away.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I've changed my mind, I don't want to do this!" Tears welled in her eyes.

"It'll be fine, dear," the assistant said. She walked over and held Piper down as she struggled. The woman was remarkably strong, much stronger than Piper would have guessed. She kept her from leaving the chair with ease. Despite Piper's protests, the doctor gave her the injection.

"You've already signed the consent forums," he said. "Don't be a baby. We'll get you sorted soon enough. Now, count down for me from ten. Ten, nine..."

As the dentist continued counting, Piper felt her eyes grow heavy. All the light in the room began fading fast as the people around her went blurry and wavy. She tried to wriggle free, but there was no use. Any strength she had was gone now, lost to the drug. She felt the tears streaming now. And just before her eyes closed, she felt another sensation. A warmness growing beneath her bottom, soaking into her jeans. She wondered what the sensation was as she drifted off to sleep.

***

The next thing Piper knew, she was on the road in the passenger seat of Miles's car. The ground beneath her bobbed and weaved as the car glided across the road. She fell in and out of sleep along to the rocking, feeling more relaxed now than she had all morning. "You awake over there?" Miles asked, but his voice was quiet and distant, as if it were a hushed echo. She just smiled at the sound of his voice.

***

When she opened her eyes again, this time she was back in her own bed in the apartment she shared with Miles. He was in the process of undressing her. "What are you doing?" She asked. "We shouldn't... not when I'm like this..." She slurred her words.

"No, silly. Not that. You wet your pants. You don't remember?" A hot embarrassment filled her cheeks as she processed his words.

"What do you mean? There's no way I-" But then she remembered. The warmth spreading beneath her. It reminded her of when she was a kid, when she used to wet the bed after waking up in a stupor sometime in the middle of every night. Memories of lectures and scolding flooded her mind. She covered her face to hide the deep red hue, and the waterworks began once more.

"There there, honey. It's alright." His voice was so gentle, so soothing. There wasn't a hint of judgment in his words, just patience and acceptance. "You'll be okay, I made sure of it," he said as he continued undressing her. He pulled off her wet jeans and soaked panties. She wished she hadn't worn pink ones with a little bunny on the crotch. They just made her feel even more childish.

When he slipped them off, she felt an unmistakable tingle, and her face somehow grew even more hot. She hoped he didn't notice. But of course, when he touched her, she knew she couldn't hide from him. "Oh my, someone seems to be wet in more than just one way," he said with a devilish grin. "I had a feeling this would happen. That's why I got you these."

She opened her eyes just in time to watch him pull out a large pack of diapers. Goodnites. The same ones her parents made her wear when she was still a bedwetter. "Th-there's no way I'll f-fit in those..." she said, but she knew it wasn't true. She was a petite girl, and she watched her figure. Still, she would say anything to stop this from becoming a reality.

But her words fell on deaf ears. Miles pulled out a package of baby wipes and cleaned her up, making sure to linger around her privates for that extra tease. All Piper could do in her stupor was sniffle. He pulled the Goodnites over her ankles and up to her thighs, then lifted her butt so he could get the childish undergarment around her waist. "There we go! Isn't that all better?"

The padding felt wonderful against her crotch, and she could already feel it absorbing her wetness, though it still wasn't pee this time. She peaked out at Miles from behind her hands. He stared back at her with a soft, inviting smile. "It's okay, honey. I think it's adorable that you had a widdle accident. It's just like old times for you, eh? But tell you what, we can keep this our little secret, just the two of us. What do you say?"

Piper sniffled one final time as two feelings rose up within her. Two distinct urges, but both baffled her brain. She had no idea why she longed to submit to this, to let Miles take care of her in this way. Maybe she was just high. Or maybe she liked being fawned over. Either way, there was no denying the ecstasy she was in. At once, she gave up on resisting both urges. She released her bladder, which had grown in pressure once more, and felt the warmth spread into her padding. It made her feel like a baby, like such a good little girl. But the second urge, that made her even more blushy. In the softest voice she could sqeak out, she said two simple words.

"Yes, Daddy."

[i3diapers]

I didn't make this one I found it online