lilbuckaroo52

[lilbuckaroo52]

Tummy time in the sun!

[lilbuckaroo52]

Everyday..

Messy young man.

[lilbuckaroo52]

I LOVE MY TUMMY TIME..

Tummy Time!!

They say it like it's fun. Like it's the next exciting event on a field trip.

“Tummy time!!” Amber announces in that singsong voice she always uses, clapping her hands like I'm supposed to be excited.

Kayla is already unrolling the blanket in the center of the living room. “Let’s get those wiggles out, stinker.”

I don't argue. There isn't any point. This is just what comes after breakfast bottles and “num-nums” in the highchair.

I waddle as best I can, the heavy sag of my soiled diaper rubbing between my thighs with every reluctant step. They don't even bother putting me in a clean one first. I got my change a few hours ago, so "maybe baby needs to stew in his mess for a while."

Tummy time is better than the bouncer, at least. That stupid harness seat with the dangling toys and the padded crotch strap that’s always just a little too tight, pressing the contents of your diaper into every crack and crevice it can. The thing that forces you to bounce, like some cruel mechanical rhythm, while they watch and giggle. I hate it.

But tummy time? Tummy time is softer. Slower. Deceptively kind. Lying flat. Arms pinned beneath me. Diaper ballooned out behind me. It almost feels like a break.

But it isn’t.

Because I always mess it up.

Try to stay still, try not to get worked up.

That’s what keeps circling through my mind, over and over, even as my hips twitch again, sinking into the bloated bulk of my diaper. The warm squish underneath is unbearable. The weight of a devil and an angel sitting on my shoulders.

But it's been so long! THEY are the ones that got you worked up. It's not your fault that you're horny, even with the disgusting state of your diaper right now.

If I keep it subtle. If I breathe slow. If I don’t moan. Maybe I can rock just enough. Just enough to take the edge off. Just enough to quiet the constant ache they leave me in at all times.

The teasing. The way they rub my cock with the wipe too long during changes, making sure it's "squeaky clean", fingers “accidentally” slipping into my hole while they wipe it clean and pretend nothing happened. "Why are you getting so worked up, baby?" Amber always says as she strokes me. "I'm just trying to rub the lotion in to protect you from a diaper rash!" They know exactly what they're doing, they've learned my mannerisms well enough to know how to stop when I'm right at the edge before pulling their hand off. "Such a squirmy baby!!" Kayla will giggle as she pulls a fresh diaper over my purple, twitching, dripping dick and tapes it up tight. Amber always tapping the crotch lightly and say something like, “Keep it in your pants, Romeo,” knowing full well I don’t have any.

Then they move on with their day like I hadn’t been left trembling and desperate in my own padded prison.

Just like now.

I groan into the mat, trying to stay still, but it’s no use. The pressure. The warmth. The weight of my hips against the swollen, messy bulk, it’s all too much. Even with the mush. Even with the smell. Or maybe because of them. It’s awful. It’s overwhelming. And it’s the only time I can get close. Tummy time is the only part of the day where I might get a little stimulation.

The only moment I’m not being spoon-fed, strapped into something, or hovered over so I don't get handsy. In the highchair, they’re right there wiping my chin and tapping the crotch of my diaper with condescending coos. During nap time, my hands are mittened and strapped to keep me from "getting any ideas."

But this?

Lying flat, arms pinned beneath me, diaper ballooned out behind me. If I keep it subtle, if I breathe slow, if I don’t moan, maybe I can rock just enough. Just enough to take the edge off. Just enough to quiet the ache they leave me with after every “innocent” diaper change.

I shift forward slightly. The mush spreads. The squish deepens. I exhale through my nose, slow. They’re talking on the couch, scrolling their phones, probably not even watching me. Just like always. Maybe I’ll get away with it this time. Maybe I'll—

“Uh-oh,” Kayla murmurs, like she’s caught me stealing cookies. “Somebody’s moving his hips again…”

I freeze.

Amber doesn’t even look up. Just lifts her tumbler and smirks. “He always does this during tummy time. Right when his diaper’s at its messiest. Like clockwork.”

I bury my face in the mat. My face burns.

“You are just the squirmiest little thing!!” Kayla coos, climbing off the couch and crouching beside me.

Her voice dips into that syrupy sing-song that makes everything worse. “I think he likes how it feels. Do you like that, sweetie? That warm mushy feeling smooshing under your wittle bum-bum?”

I groan into the mat, shaking my head.

Amber kneels down on the other side of me. “Tummy time strikes again!"

I go completely still. Like if I just freeze, they’ll stop. Like if I don’t move, maybe they’ll let it go. But their eyes are on me now. And they’re smiling.

“Oh, come on,” Amber teases, leaning in close so I can feel her breath on my flushed cheeks. “You were just rocking back and forth like a little puppy trying to make happy humps. Don’t be shy now.”

“You’re not in trouble,” Kayla coos. “Not if you admit it.”

I try not to move, but the pressure is building. The warmth. The need. It’s so much worse when I know they’re watching. I hate how turned on they make me. How horny all of this makes me...

“You want to rub your squishy diaper, don’t you?” she whispers, brushing my hair from my eyes. “That’s what tummy time is for.”

Amber leans over the side of the couch. “We made it nice and soft for you, didn’t we? Fresh blanket. Warm mat. Big stinky diaper, just how you like it.”

“I bet you can’t even help it anymore,” Kayla says gently. “It just happens. Like everything else now.”

They’re right. Of course they’re right.

My hips twitch again. Barely a movement, but enough. They both see it.

“There’s our baby boy,” Amber says with a smirk. “Go on, sweetie. Just slow and steady. Nice and gentle. Let that squishy diaper do what it’s meant to.”

My body betrays me again. I rock, slowly. The pressure is unbearable.

Kayla leans in close, her voice soft. “Good boy. Just like that. That’s it. Rock your little hips. You’re not even thinking about it now, are you?”

“You just do what your body tells you,” Amber chimes in. “It’s not like you’re in charge anymore anyway.”

I let out a pathetic little whimper.

Kayla grins. “Awwww, are you getting fuzzy? Is your baby brain starting to melt?”

They’re both so calm. So encouraging. Like this is normal.

“You can let go,” Kayla murmurs. “You’re already in a dirty diaper. Just give in, baby.”

“And we’ll be right here when you’re done,” Amber adds, crossing her legs with a soft rustle. “We’re not going anywhere.”

My eyes are wet. My face is burning. And still, I keep moving.

Slowly. Shamefully. My hips rock with that pathetic, traitorous rhythm. The squish beneath me spreads wider with every motion, heat blooming between my thighs like something rotten. The smell rises. Faint at first, then stronger. Rich. Humid. Unavoidable.

Kayla rests a hand on the small of my back. Firm, steady, grounding. “Uh-uh, sweet boy. No stopping now.”

Her touch pins me in place. “Tummy time isn’t over until that diaper’s really full.”

“Like emotionally full,” Amber adds with a laugh, swirling her drink. “Not just the squishy kind. The soggy, sticky, spent kind.”

I try not to whimper. Try not to drool around the pacifier. Try not to think about what I look like. Spread out like this, squirming in my own mess while two grown women supervise.

Amber leans forward, her voice bright and awful. “That’s it, baby. Rock those hips. Work it out.”

“Aww, you’re breathing so heavy,” Kayla coos. “Is your wittle diaper getting you all worked up?”

“So mushy,” Amber says. “So squishy and full. Can you feel it all smearing under you? That’s your own stink, sweetheart. Your mess. And look at you, humping it.”

I shudder, rutting harder now. I can’t stop.

They giggle like it’s entertainment. Like I’m just a toy winding down on the floor. Kayla gives my diapered bottom a light pat, and the resulting squelch makes me cringe so hard my toes curl.

“Oh yeah,” she says, drawing it out. “He’s definitely close.”

Amber sips her drink. “Think we should count it out for him?”

Kayla grins. “Or make him say what he’s doing first. In his big boy words.”

My head shakes wildly against the mat.

“Uh-uh,” she warns again. “We let you have tummy time. The least you can do is tell us what’s going on in that squishy little pampers of yours.”

I freeze, breath caught in my throat.

Amber crouches low, grinning like a wolf. “It’s not a secret, baby. We see those little hips moving.”

Kayla strokes the small of my back with maddening patience. “So come on, sweetheart. Use your words. What are you doing in your big poopy diaper?”

I shake my head. Pathetically. Hoping somehow that they’ll let it go.

They don’t.

Amber leans in, voice syrupy and smug. “What’s wrong? Too embarrassed to tell the truth?”

“I…” My mouth is dry. The smell is thick. My whole body feels hot and heavy and low.

Kayla taps the back of my diaper. Squish. “We’re waiting.”

I want to disappear. But the pressure’s too much. Their stares. The squelching rhythm beneath me. The ache between my legs. The baby talk.

Everything.

“I… I’m…”

Kayla’s tone sharpens just enough to cut. “Say it properly.”

I close my eyes. My voice cracks.

“I’m w-wubbin’… my messy diapee…”

Amber claps her hands, delighted. “Awwwwww! Did you hear that?”

Kayla giggles, brushing my hair from my forehead. “He’s rubbing his messy diaper like a wittle stinkbug. That’s so nasty, baby.”

I groan into the mat, humiliated beyond words, except they still want more.

“Tell us why,” Amber says. “Why are you rubbing it, baby boy?”

I can’t. I absolutely can’t.

Kayla pouts, mock-sad. “Do we need to get the paddle?”

I whimper. My voice high-pitched in fear and need. “Cuz… it feews… good…”

They both melt with fake awe.

Amber wipes a pretend tear. “He’s such a brave little stink monster.”

Kayla giggles again. “Tummy time really does bring out the best in him.”

I keep moving. Because Kayla’s hand is still resting on the small of my back, warm and heavy like she’s reminding me who I belong to. Because Amber’s crouched beside my face, close enough that I can smell the sweet mint on her breath as she grins.

“Go on, wiggle worm!” she whispers. “Wriggle in your muddy diaper. Rub it in. Just like that. Nice and slow. That’s what tummy time’s for, right?”

I let out a pathetic sound, somewhere between a groan and a sob.

Kayla hums gently, “Wub-wub-wub that mushy diapee… that’s a good baby…”

Amber bites her lip dramatically. “I can see your little bum trying so hard. Are you almost done, baby boy?”

I clench my eyes shut.

The pressure is unbearable. The squish. The friction. The warmth smeared everywhere. The sound. The smell. But worst of all: their voices.

“Tell us what’s happening,” Kayla croons. “Tell us what you’re doing.”

I shake my head.

Amber isn’t having it. “Use your words, mister. Or we’ll make you start all over.”

“I…” I’m breathless. Desperate.

Kayla whispers right above my ear. “What do you say when you’re making a mess, baby?”

I can barely speak.

“I’m makin’… a goo-goo…”

The words fall out of me like a confession.

Amber gasps, hand over her heart. “Oh my god. You are. You’re making goo-goo in your diapee like a good little mushy huggie humper!”

Kayla pats my back, sweet as anything. “That’s it. Ride it out, baby. Rub your nasty little stink diaper. Let your body do what it wants.”

I’m shaking now. Rocking harder. I can’t stop.

Amber giggles. “Does that feel good? Does your mushy diaper feel soooo nice on your little bits? Aww, are you gonna make cummies in your poo-poo pampers??”

Kayla’s tone stays calm. Maternal. Inescapable. “Make your goo-goo, baby boy. Make it all gone!”

And I do.

With a shudder. A gasp. A whimper into the mat. My muscles clench and tense. My knuckles turn white as my hands grip the blankie and my body rocks back and forth. All filth forgotten, only focused on the feeling.

I cum.

Right there. Face-down. Diaper full. Everything sticky and awful and hot and wrong. Kayla strokes my back. Amber claps like I just took my first steps. And neither of them moves to change me.

Not yet.

Kayla giggles. “I knew he had it in him. Or, well… not anymore.”

They let me lie there. Chest rising and falling. Face burning. Pacifier half-falling from my lips.

The warmth isn’t comforting anymore.

It’s just… gross.

The mess I made, the squish beneath me, the smell clinging to the air and my skin, it’s all too much now. My hips don’t move. My breath doesn’t hitch. It’s over. Whatever fog had taken over my brain is gone, and all I’m left with is the awful truth of it.

I came in my diaper.

While they watched.

While they talked me through it.

Kayla must see it hit me, because her smile changes. Softer. Meaner.

“Ohhh,” she coos. “There it is. There’s that little crash. Poor baby. You’re all done now, huh?”

Amber leans forward, resting her chin on her hand. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? Not feeling so proud anymore?”

I bury my face deeper into the mat. I want to disappear. To melt through the floor. To not exist. But the diaper clings to me. It’s sticky and bloated and shameful. I can feel everything now. The squish, the smell, the cool air on the back of my thighs. Every word they say cuts deeper than before.

“You were such a little animal a few minutes ago,” Amber sighs. “Just humping and humping your poopy pampers like a good little perv.”

Kayla tilts her head. “But now? You look like you want to cry.”

I do. I honestly might.

Amber nudges my ankle with her foot. “Tell us what you did. Use your big boy words.”

I shake my head weakly.

Kayla’s voice turns mock-gentle. “Oh, honey. We saw. You might as well say it.”

I don’t answer.

Thwack.

Her palm lands hard across my diapered backside, making the mess squelch. I let out a sharp yelp.

“Say it!” she snaps.

My voice cracks, barely audible. “I… I made stickies…”

“In what?” Amber prompts. “Be specific, baby.”

I shut my eyes. “In my… m-my dirty diaper.”

They both squeal in mock delight, clapping like I just recited the alphabet.

“Yaaay! Honest little diaper freak!” Amber sings. “A gold star for stinky post-nut clarity!”

Kayla crouches beside me, fingers tracing lazy circles on my back. “And how do you feel now, hmm? All done. All empty. Just lying there in your own mess while two grown women laugh at you.”

I don’t answer.

“Do you feel like a man?” she asks sweetly. “Or do you feel like what you really are: a drooly little hump-toy who blows his load into his own mushy pampers?”

I flinch. My cheeks are wet. They’ve made their point.

Amber pulls out her phone again. “Smile. Or don’t. Honestly, the shameface is better.”

Kayla pats my head. “Maybe next time you’ll think twice before rutting like a horn-dog. But probably not.”

“Either way,” Amber adds, setting a timer with a cruel little grin, “You’re sitting in that mess another twenty minutes. Consider it part of your post-rut cooldown.”

Kayla nods, brushing imaginary lint off my onesie. “Let it really soak in, baby. That’s what tummy time’s for.”

And then they leave me.

Right there on the mat. No towel. No wipe. No change. Nothing left to say. Nothing left to do. Just lie there on my tummy.

And feel it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you @imsycmrianzdy for providing the lovely images. To the others that submitted, I want to thank you as well, and I will try to show my appreciation by writing a different caption for them eventually. Thanks everyone for reading! I was really happy with how this story came out. Hope you liked it!

[lilbuckaroo52]

This is a CLASSIC..

The Hypnotist

NSFW 18+ Only

Contains ABDL Content

"You are about to fall into a deep sleep"

Rachel nodded with her eyes closed.

"Now... sleep!" the hypnotist commanded, swinging a pendulum in front of her.

Rachel's head dropped as the hypnosis took control and she entered her trance. Her hand continued to hold on to that of her husband, Evan.

The hypnotist James turned to his friend Evan. "Are you sure you want to go through with this?" he asked. "Once I alter her mind, it can't be changed."

Evan nodded. He had put a lot of thought into this. It was the last chance to save their marriage. The pair had moved in together after their wedding ceremony to disastrous effects. Evan worked an eight-hour job in banking and it was too stressful coming home after a long day of work to a messy house and no dinner made. He knew he shouldn't expect that from Rachel, who also worked eight hours albeit in teaching, but with both of them working, there was no way their shared house would be habitable.

He had asked Rachel to quit before, but she had taken it as quite the insult. She found it unfair that she should be the stay-at-home partner and she only got angrier when Evan reminded her that he made significantly more banking.

So, he turned to his friend James. Evan hadn't believed hypnotism could actually work. But watching James help people break their bad habits or forget about former loves, Evan had realized the effectiveness of James' profession. So, he asked him if he would help the couple with their situation.

Of course, Rachel would have never had made herself a willing participant. Evan made a small white lie that she would be hypnotized to quit smoking, and under those circumstances, she had excitedly agreed. He did feel bad for lying, but it was to help both of them. And so, Evan prodded James to finish altering Rachel's mind.

James sighed. "When I snap my fingers, you will awake," he instructed. "And your main priority will be taking care of Evan and your house."

James snapped and Rachel woke from the trance.

Evan and Rachel returned home while Evan patiently waited for the hypnotic spell to take effect.

It wasn't long until it did. The next morning, Rachel sat down with Evan and explained to him that after some thought she had decided to quit her teaching job so that she could look after him and keep the house clean. Evan applauded her decision, internally hyping himself up for a clean house and fresh dinner for when he returned from work.

And for the next week of work, that's exactly what he got. His clothes were picked up off the floor and washed, the carpets were vacuumed and spotless, and the dishwasher was empty each day. Better than all that, Evan got to sit down as soon as he got home to a cooked dinner: chicken, scallops, pasta, stroganoff, you name it! All the guilt Evan had from his manipulation had washed away. This was the life.

The second week, however, things began to noticeably change. Yes, the house was still clean upon getting home. But, his wife's dinners started to change. Chicken was replaced by chicken nuggets; pasta by mac and cheese. Instead of getting a beer with dinner, Rachel would pour him a tall glass of milk.

"Do you think you could make that mushroom stroganoff again?" Evan finally asked on Wednesday in front of a plate of pizza bagels.

"Silly boy," Rachel condescended. "You wouldn't like mushrooms. They're icky." She stuck out her tongue as she tied a napkin around her husband's neck in case he clumsily dropped any of his dinner on himself.

Evan was disappointed that the effort that went into his dinners had already declined to microwavables. But, it was at least nice to come home to a clean house. Still, Rachel was only acting stranger and stranger as if she needed to dote on him constantly.

It all came to a head that Friday as Evan buttoned up his shirt and fastened his belt for work. Rachel came up behind him and started undoing his buttons.

"I don't think you should go to work anymore," Rachel shared. "I need you here where I can keep an eye on you."

Evan's eyes widened. The hypnosis had clearly gotten out of control. "You don't know what you're saying," Evan explained, fighting her to rebutton his shirt. "I need to go to work."

To Evan's surprise, Rachel slapped his hand away from his shirt. "Don't talk back to me now," Rachel said sternly. "You're not going to work and that's final. Now, get on the bed. I have a more fitting wardrobe for you."

Evan moved Rachel's hands. "For the last time, no!" he shouted. "You're not supposed to be like this. I am going to work!"

As Evan turned to leave, Rachel grabbed him by the waist of his pants without hesitation. Evan stopped as she quickly undid his belt, dropping his pants to the floor. She quickly folded over his belt and went to town beating his ass with it.

"What the hell are you doing?" Evan said, caught completely off guard. "Stop that!" She continued. She continued until Evan was red in the face, holding back tears. He didn't want to believe that his wife had this much power over him, but he was helpless to fight back. After several minutes, tears ran down his cheeks as he begged, "Stop! Stop please!"

Eventually, she did. "Shhh, shh, shh," she said, pulling him to her shoulder to comfort him as she began to finally unbutton his shirt without resistance. Evan was out of energy to fight back and relented to simply sobbing into Rachel's shoulder as he was left wearing nothing but his boxer briefs.

"It's ok, baby," Rachel assured him. "I don't like to spank you, but you need to be a better listener, ok? Now, let's get you changed."

Evan gave in to Rachel's demands from that point on. He knew questioning her... authority would result in another painful punishment to his backside. So, when Rachel, returned with a fresh adult-sized diaper and pacifier, Evan had no choice but to comply as she stripped him of his grown-up clothes and dressed him in a new ensemble that was more fitting of his new role in their relationship.

"Please don't make me wear that," Evan said exasperated. "Why would I need to wear that?"

Rachel began to slide off Evan's boxers. "I'm sorry honey," Rachel said. "This'll make it easier to keep track of when you need to poopoo and peepee."

"Babe, this is all a big mistake," Evan cried. "James hypn-"

Evan's pleading was interrupted as Rachel shoved the pacifier into his mouth. Drool fell out his mouth as he naturally tried to speak past the giant pacifier, but the bulb made him unable to speak.

"No more crying, baby," Rachel said. "I'll take care of you now."

Rachel set the ground rules of the house. Evan was no longer a man, but her special baby boy. Babies would crawl around on all fours, tell "Mommy" when they had a dirty diaper, and be bottlefed for all their meals from now on. Babies certainly wouldn't go into work and no matter what, they would never touch their own diaper. That was Mommy's job.

Evan did his best to test Rachel's rules. Later in the week, Evan removed his diaper hoping Mommy wouldn't notice if he put on his adult clothes and left the house. Of course, she did and the spanking he received was even longer and more painful than the first one.

After weeks of dirty diapers, bubble baths, and seven o'clock bedtimes in his new adult-sized crib, Evan's life had transformed from that of a breadwinning husband to that of a toddler who relied on his Mommy for everything. He swallowed his pride and decided he would attempt to escape, no matter how embarrassing it would be for his neighbors and any ongoing witnesses to see him sprint down the street in nothing but a diaper and pacifier. Caught by Mommy before he even reached the end of the yard, passersby got the even more spectacular opportunity to watch the diaper man be paddled by his wife on their lawn for all the public to see.

Evan had succumbed to his new position after months of infantile treatment and brutal punishments. He had soiled too many diapers to show his face back at work or even take his role as the man of the relationship seriously. He was Rachel's baby and she took care of him as she was instructed.

One Saturday long after Evan had lost track of the months, he was carried downstairs after being allowed out of his crib to a surprise that made his paci fall out of his mouth. His kitchen was full of his friends and coworkers whose attention immediately turned to him, the former banker-turned-toddler. Old coworkers hid giggles as former flames burst into laughter. His secretary was the one to fetch his pacifier from the ground and put it back into his mouth. "Hey boss," she condescended. "Looks like you dropped this."

"I invited all your little friends over to see you," Rachel shared excitedly. "Why don't you waddle on over and say hi?"

Evan fell to all fours after Rachel placed him down. He could only stare at the ground, trying to avoid eye contact with anyone who once held respect for him.

"Aw, he's so much cuter now," Evan heard one coworker say. "I wish I could do that with my husband."

"Let me know if you need a babysitter," said one of his exes. "I change diapers and I am happy to discipline naughty boys."

Tears streamed down Evan's face as his face burned bright red. He was utterly humiliated. Laughs echoed from his former colleagues as his wife could do nothing but coo over how adorable Evan looked in his diapers to his peers. His adult life was over and his shame was nearly unbearable.

"Evan," a voice whispered.

Evan looked up through his tears. "James?"

"I can't believe you let her do this to you," James said. "I know it's my hypnosis that went wrong, but... I mean, look at yourself. You're never going to live this down."

"You have to help me," Evan pleaded. "I can't live like this anymore. Please, change Rachel back."

"I told you beforehand: I can't unhypnotize people," James responded. "Besides, you can never go back to work after this."

Evan let out a pathetic sniffle; he was just a big baby, after all.

"I have one solution," James offered. "But you're not going to like it."

Evan's ears perked up as his tears subsided slightly. "I can't hypnotize Rachel again," James repeated. "She will just see you as her toddler for the rest of your lives. But, if I hypnotize you... maybe you can see things the same way."

Evan let out a sob. As ridiculous as it was, he understood what James was telling him. Rachel treated him like a baby and now everyone in his life saw him as a baby. The only thing stopping him from being a baby was his shame. James could make all the embarrassment go away and he would spend the rest of his life in his new role, happy as... well, a newborn.

So, against his better judgment, he accepted his friend's alternative. James waved the pendulum in front of him.

"Sleep..."

Evan closed his eyes.

"When I snap my fingers, you will wake up," James commanded. "And when you do, you'll believe you are Rachel's baby."

James snapped his fingers.

"Evan?"

Evan stared blankly into James' eyes. James looked back at him, thinking that perhaps his old friend was still in there. "Evan? Do you hear me, buddy?"

James watched as his friend's face began to scrunch up. Evan lifted his butt off the ground as his face turned red. As James realized what was happening, Evan let out a deep sigh. As his diaper hit the ground again, spreading his mess everywhere, Evan sobbed.

Rachel walked up with a group of his girlfriends. "What's wrong, sweetie?"

"I made a poopy in my diapie!" Evan cried.

"Poor baby," Rachel cooed. "Ladies, who wants to help me change him?"

A group of hands shot into the hair as Evan could do nothing but kick his feet against the ground and drool all over his chest. Unaware of his own pathetic display as a grown-up with a soiled diaper, Evan was now content in his own mind being his Mommy's adult baby.

Photo credit: @diaperthor

Hi babies. If you enjoyed this caption, please check out my interactive story here! See if you can escape reform school and unlock all nine unique endings!

[lilbuckaroo52]

HOW I LOST MY MANHOOD PART ELEVEN...

Yes I know .. I skipped a few chapters and yes ill be revising those soon.. But I have to journal what happened this weekend.. OMG..

Anywho, mommys been talking about a certain friend of hers alot lately.. I thought it was her.. "work husband bestie ".. but i was wrong.. it was her boss ..Wendy.. so yesterday .. me, mommy, momma sister went out to break break and mommy told me when she was dressing me that morning that she needed me to be a big boy and wear training pants instead of a diaper and my reward was I got to pick out one of my favorite football jerseys from my big boy closet.. so I picked out 32.. Jim Brown from Cleveland and I was feeling tall... well at breakfast momma boss showed up and introductions were fun.. and the flirting began.. got all hopped up on coffee and sugar and the invite happened to retire at the ranch with mommys boss Wendy.. she followed us home and I sat up front.. not in the car seat.. I felt so tuff and grown up.. we sat at the dining table and no high chair .. even though it was in the corner of the kitchen.. Wendy commented on my Good manners and boom.. it began.. she knew.. ugh mommy started her banter on how I was a big boy today.. but nap time was closely approaching.. mommy asked her boss with she was ready to get her drink on.. and the comment of can keep a good Marine down.. I knew I was in trouble.. she went to the kitchen and the wine started pouring.. I ask if I could have a drink and mommy said of course.. iam making it right now.. and there it was.. a huge chocolate milk baba.. her boss said out loud.. would u like to help me put him down for a nap.. I really want to see this play room you've been talking about.. I was handed my baba and there we went.. WOW.. all I heard for about 3 minutes.. wow this..wow that.. that playpen is huge.. mommy said, hop up on your table.. let's get you ready.. so defeated I listened and just kept my mouth shut.. Wendy dear.. will you pick out a diaper out of one of those stackers.. mommy organized my diapers by old school diaper stackers.. and each one is different she walk over to the blue one.. with Ragidy Ann and Andy.. and she grabbed a Lil Kings.. this looks like a huge Huggies.. my kids wore Huggies she said.. iam not a fan of Huggies.. more of a Pampers Boy.. any who.. mommy said.. do you feel comfortable diapering Jimmy?? Of course.. I wipe men's asses all day at work.. you know this.. they both laughed ..

My jeans went.. then my training pant.. and of course they commented on my stickies.. cause iam a little pre jac.. she grabbed my ankles.. crossed them and lifted me up with one hand.. holy shit.. she's ripped.. threw the Lil king under my bald naked ass and BOOM.. she started wiping me down.. cleaning my baby juice of my hard Lil wood button.. mommy commented to her as she was powdering me.. Jimmy your balls dropped again.. she looked at Wendy and said.. Lil man excited.. and walked over to one of my vintage pampers boxes.. where my chastity cages are kept in.. she grabbed one and locked up like the lil criminal iam.. Wendy was impressed and was given permission to tape me up.. she then asked where my outfits were?? And before I knew it.. I was in my Duckie jammies.. mommy barked.. ok crawl into your playpen.. I did.. was handed my baba again.. the shades where drawn and crib lights turned on.. and was told to make lots of me mes.. Wendy kissed me on the top of the head and told me to be a good boy.. her and mommy will be in the next room.. the lights went out.. door was shut.. and the laughing began.. for hours.. I have no clue what happened only 15 feet away.. but I never felt so little in my life like a 18 month year old toddler.. like I did right now..

[lilbuckaroo52]

This read is BAD ASS.. TOTALLY WET MYSELF..

“Arms in. Ankles out. That’s right, sweetpea. Just like you built it.”

You hated that she was right. You had built this monstrosity. Every plank. Every bolt. Every humiliating little measurement she’d barked out while you stood there, diapered and pink-cheeked, holding a cordless drill like a fool.

It had started when she asked for a pergola. You’d put it off. For months. Then the leaky sink. The shelves. The dog door. All conveniently forgotten.

So she gave you a different kind of project.

Now your legs are locked wide at the ankles, strapped into two thick wooden slots that make your sodden padding painfully obvious. You squirm, but there’s nowhere to go. Arms and legs bound, feet flat, cheeks burning. The seat creaks beneath you—still unpainted, still raw.

Just like you.

She hums behind you. Then the tray slides in with a sharp clack.

“There we go. My little handyman’s all strapped in. Can’t whine about your chores now, can you?”

She pinches your cheek, gripping it and forcing you to shake your head back and forth. “Noo!! You sure can’t!” She coos mockingly, giving you a little smack for good measure. You harumph behind your pacifier, careful not to let it fall out of your mouth, lest you earn another trip over her knee.

She sets a bowl of something gray and lumpy on the tray, then pops the pacifier out of your mouth with a soft click. Your stomach turns as you watch her pick up a spoon—not too big, so it doesn't go by too quickly, but not too small either. Just enough to make sure you get the full taste. She loads it up deliberately, the mush threatening to spill over the edges.

“Open wide, baby boy.”

You hesitate. She doesn’t.

Her fingers grip the sides of your jaw and she purrs, “Oooopen. Or should I get the feeding gag again?”

Reluctantly, your mouth parts. She shovels a sloppy spoonful in.

“There’s my big, helpful little man. Bet that mouth didn’t mind building this highchair once the cage went on, huh?”

You groan, barely able to swallow the mush without gagging.

She tsks.

“Aww. Does it taste yucky, pumpkin? Maybe you should’ve fixed the sink when I asked. Or changed the air filters. Or gotten off your lazy ass and shown me you could act like a grown-up.”

Another spoonful. It dribbles down your chin.

“So messy! Tsk tsk. Between your face, your ‘man cave’, and that soggy thing between your legs, you just can’t keep anything clean, can you?”

You glance down. The wood grain of the tray is unfinished—rough, sanded but unsealed. Your arms ache. Your thighs tremble. Your diaper crinkles shamefully with each breath.

“Oh, and since you’re such a natural at woodworking now,” she coos, wiping your chin with the back of the spoon, “Mommy’s decided what your next few projects will be.”

You blink.

She leans in, sweet as poison. “A changing table, for starters. Sturdy enough to strap down a squirmy little handyman who gets a little too handsy while his cage gets cleaned—and who’s clearly going to be needing lots of diaper changes, the way he fills them like it’s his job.”

You whimper.

“And a crib. Full-sized. Lockable. With bars you will install, since you’re so clever with those tools.”

You try to shift. Your diaper squishes. Her smile widens.

“I’ll be checking your cuts, of course. I don’t want my crinkly little carpenter getting a splinter while he’s curled up in his pretty nightie.”

Another spoon. Another whimper.

“Oh, and the pergola?” She sighs dreamily. “Still happening. But now you’ll do it with your pampers on full display, a pacifier in your mouth, and the only time you get to stop is for bottle breaks. No more ‘forgetting,’ right baby?”

You nod slowly, defeated.

“Good. Now open up. Here comes the choo-choo for my crinkly little carpenter. Chugga chugga—”

Your eyes close as the spoon slides between your lips.

She’s still humming. You can smell the fresh sawdust on your fingers.

You built this—not just the highchair, but the whole humiliating little world you’re now trapped in.

And she’s just getting started.

[lilbuckaroo52]

So i found this Adultbaby crib on a Chinese website.. 500 bucks

[lilbuckaroo52]

I look like a 1 year old in these new diapers.. ugh.. mommy bought 6 cases.. IAM A BIG BOY MOMMA..

[lilbuckaroo52]

This is the best one yet!! I AM THERE BIGGEST FAN..

Uh oh! Hubby came home drunk and wifey is worried he'll wet the bed! What do you think she'll do?

[lilbuckaroo52]

SO LISTEN UP DIAPER SQUAD... GONNA START A SUPPORT GROUP FOR ABDL WITH PAST TRAUMA..and it gonna be a SAFE SPACE.. I got my 5 who have been VETTED and want to do this.. so just thinking out loud.. like me know if your interested.. THERE WILL BE NO LURKERS.. GUARANTEED..

[lilbuckaroo52]

LOSING MY MANHOOD PART SIX..

Now a couple of weeks went buy.. and laying low at work.. just because i don't know what my ex-wife had told my friends and co workers wife's with her latest treat of outting my little side.. So iam heading home and stop to buy a can of chew and tall boy beer.. like I always do.. my debit card didn't work.. and I know I have thousands in my bank account.. I rush home to to ask my wife if she knew what happened?? She of course said yes I do.. your not longer on any financial account or have any control of money.. What.. i screamed.. she slapped me and told me to mind my manners.. Right now.. you have officially became a child.. I froze.. I'll be taking care of all your needs... come see your new room.. FUCK.. WHAT DO U DO TO MY STUFF.. she grab my ear and said.. Excuse me lil man.. you wanted this.. here it is..

A twin sized crib with rail going up 5 feet.. a huge white changing table.. with diaper stacker on both sides.. a diaper genie that was up to my waist.. and a baby blue toy box that had lil Jimmy on it.. OMG.. IT JUST GOT REAL.. ok let's get that nasty bottom soaked in the tub my lil button.. was marched naked across the hall.. where the common bathroom where the really big tub was.. Nothing but baby bath toys and sesame street towels.. I asked if she would take the cage off so I could scrub my Button, now she was calling it.. since it was getting smaller since I couldn't manhandle it any more.. no babyboy.. mommy knows what's she's doing.. you've gotten me pregnant 3 times and raised 3 kids without your help.. thank u very much.. so it 430 ish in the evening and walked to my new room and diapered and dressed for night time.. was given a huge bottle and locked in my crib.. the room was pitched black from new blinds and a series of night crib toys began to light up.. then the mittens appeared and locked on my hands.. I got groggy fast.. Melatonin, sleeping meds and muscle relaxers.. I was out by 5.. this was my new routine.. my pay check was deposited directly into her account.. my new carpool picked me up every morning.. she sold my truck and motorcycle.. I was done.. every 2 weeks on Saturday.. she would drive me to a kid's hair salon and get a little boy hair cut.. afterwards we would come home and I would get a Neir Bath.. had no more body hair.. and it was just getting worse..

My youngest moved out and headed to college and it wasn't even 24 hours that a new highchair was in the kitchen and playpen was in the living room.. that night as I was being spoon fed.. a friend of mine just walked into the kitchen.. I was pissed.. yelling at him.. how did u get in here..

My ex quick walked from behind and strapped a binky gag around my head.. She went on to explain to me why.. well my lil button.. you haven't had a dick in over 5 years.. how do you think I keep my mind in order.. Your new Daddy here has had a key to my house for more than 5 years now.. the reason why I need you to listen to me is.. iam pregnant again with his child.. and He wants me to move to Chicago where his family is.. I cried.. and cried.. baby.. it's ok.. you can have the house and start over.. I want a man and your just a diapered lil toddler.. and that's ok.. He's transfer papers kick in next week and nobody will know what what.. your a good person but.. I don't want to be your mother anymore.. iam going to take off the gag.. and put you to bed.. ok.. nod if your ok with this.. I nodded.. John my friend of 20 years just said sorry man.. we've been into each other a long time and I won't tell any of the guys about your diaper thing.. I just stood there.. she wiped my face clean from dinner and said .. let get you tucked in with your favorite jammies.. good nite jimmy.. John said as I waddle by him in tears .. mommy holding my hand.. we're all going to have something special between us.. she changed my bumper with ease and tenderness.. gave me a nite nite baba.. and locked me safe in my crib for the night..

[lilbuckaroo52]

Ok.. ABDL SIGNS..

Who's what.. iam a Virgo and I've met a few Virgos in the last 2 weeks.. I guess cause where all still innocent and virgins?? Help me out.. this is for Science..

[lilbuckaroo52]

There's not any ABDLs in Arizona?? Not one!!

[lilbuckaroo52]

Please unshrink me.. I don't want to have to wear baby clothes for the rest of my pathetic life..

Cindi and Jay

[lilbuckaroo52]

Good morning all my lil buddies out there.. sorry I can't text back today or tomorrow.. mommy got me a new amazing playpen last night from Moniastor special needs furniture.. so between that and my highchair.. which is almost broken.. iam not having any freedom soon.. hugs and more hugs.. bi bi..

[lilbuckaroo52]

Mommy please don't.. my pp so small.. I don't want people to see it..

You know the drill, babydoll. Let's get you up on the changing table and take a look at that droopy diaper. What's that? You're embarrassed? Babies have nothing to be embarrassed about when it comes to their diapers. Nobody expects someone like you to keep them dry.

Hahaha, oh you mean you don't want Auntie Sara to take photos. Well, good thing for you, she's not. She's streaming this, baby-babe. Turns out our friend group is VERY curious about our diaper time routine.