messydprs

[messydprs]

.... no comment. ..sore tummy 😞

sorry if u dont wanna see this! had it saved in my camera roll for a while and thought why not xP

[messydprs]

My Own Worst Enemy

“What are you doing up there, sweetie? You know I don’t like it when you’re unsupervised. Why don't you come down here with me?”

This has got to stop. She’s been like this ever since my accident two months ago. The one that destroyed my bladder control.

But I have bigger problems than that right now.

“Oh my god, will you please stop with that?” I say trying to sound annoyed, “I’m not a baby, I’m perfectly capable of being alone!”

My knees buckle again as most body forces me into another humiliating squat.

I hate this.

I grunt again as I push, the same pathetic sound I make every time I fill my diaper like a toddler.

I turn away from the mirror, unable to handle watching my face redden as my diaper expands to hold my mess.

Wait, why didn’t she say anything?

I need to move fast. I need to change out of this diaper before she realizes what happened. If she knows I’m messing now too…no, she won’t find out.

I gather my breath in between pushes. “I’ll be right down!” Maybe she’ll buy it and leave me alone.

“Uh oh, are you making pushies, honey?”

I freeze in utter terror. This is bad. Real bad.

“I…mmpgh,” I grunt, appalled I grunted mid-sentence like some toddler. But it was nothing compared to the load that filled my diaper after.

At least until I saw her smiling. That horrible, pitiful smile.

“Aww baby, it’s okay! I’m not surprised you’re pooping your diapers, so don’t be embarrassed! I know you can’t help it! This just proves I was right!”

“What are you talking about?” I manage to mumble.

“About you, silly! About what you are! And what you need from me!”

I don’t like where this is going. And I definitely don’t like that sickly sweet voice she’s using.

“You don’t need a girlfriend, you need a Mommy! Just as I suspected. Surely you don’t think someone who runs off to hide while they make stinkies needs a girlfriend, right?”

“A Mommy?” I say incredulously, “Babe, what are you talking about? It was just an accident!”

“Just an accident? Sweetie, you pooped your diaper! And that’s not counting the 40 ‘accidents’ you’ve had in the last month! You can’t control your tinkles, you’re wearing a diaper—a poopy diaper—and you want to argue you don’t need a Mommy?”

It’s harder than I expect to argue with a load in your diaper.

“Sweetie, I love you, no matter what. But right now I have to be the person you need. So, from now on, I’m not your girlfriend. I’m your Mommy. And Mommy’s don’t have sex with their babies, so get that out of your head!”

“Babe, why are you doing this?”

“What did I just say? I’m not your “babe” anymore. I’m trying to make this easy on you sweetie. Don’t flight me on this, okay?”

“Are you serious? You think I’m just going to let you treat me like a baby?”

“I do, yes. Because that’s what you are. What are you wearing right now?”

“I’m not playing your game!”

“That’s okay, Baby. I’ll help you. You’re wearing a diaper! An icky, stinky, poopy diaper! Does that sound like something an adult would wear?”

“Cut it out! This is bullshit!” I yell louder, trying to leave the room.

It happened faster than I could have imagined. In a flash she was behind me, pulling me back onto her.

Onto her lap.

“What did I say, Baby?” she said menacingly.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

“You’re not in charge anymore. You’re not an adult. You’re nothing but my baby, do you understand?”

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

“You will do what I say, when I say it! You’ll do it because I know best for you. Babies don’t get to choose what’s best for them. Their Mommies do. And I am your Mommy, got it?”

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

It’s too much. I can’t take it. The way she’s talking to me. The spankings. The messy diaper. Tears well in my eyes.

I can’t even stop myself from crying like a baby! What’s happening to me?

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

She turns me around so I’m looking up at her with watery eyes. That same smile plastered in her face. Like I’m some helpless, pathetic baby.

Hard to argue that in this position.

“Awww, don’t cry baby! It’s okay, Mommy’s here! Do you want out of that stinky diaper? Would that help?”

I nod, unable to talk. Overwhelmed and beaten down.

“I thought it might!” she said, overly cheerful, “I’ll be right back, baby! You wait here!”

She comes back a minute or two later, arms full of diapering supplies. She lays out a changing table, horribly decorated with teddy bear and balloons. I don’t have it in me to complain.

“Lay down, honey! Mommy will get you out of icky diaper in no time.”

As soon as I do, something is shoved into my mouth.

“Mmpjfh!”

“It’s just a pacifier, silly! You’ll learn to love it, I promise! Now just lay back and suckle. Mommy will take care of everything.”

I do my best to pretend I’m anywhere else. That this diaper change isn’t real. That this isn’t the single most humiliating moment of my life.

“Botty up, baby!” she says softly, “Good boy!”

My poopy diaper is unceremoniously dumped next to me. I stare at it for the remainder of my change.

“There, all done! Ready to start your new life baby?”

Not even a little bit.

“Leave your shorts off baby, I need to check you from now on. You just worry about filling your diaper. Leave the rest to Mommy.”

[messydprs]

If you listen closely, you can hear my buzzy toy! 🥰

[messydprs]

🧚‍♀️✨️

[messydprs]

[messydprs]

i think my onesie can’t hold much more… can i please have a change!!

[messydprs]

Simon’s new stepmother was so weird. Somehow she knew just how to get him to do as she wanted and she exploited this power, taking her control over Simon to levels that normal people wouldn’t even think of. Six months after she moved into Simon’s house the young man find himself lying on his back in a newly furnished nursery that was once his bedroom. He lay there with his stepmother lifting his legs up, revealing the thick diaper that Simon wore, the only clothing he was wearing at all. His stepmother smiled as she looked down at his diapered butt. She looked at Simon’s blushing face and said, “Is baby Simon a wet little boy?” Simon blushed even darker as she felt at his diaper. He knew it was wet and she knew it was wet but she liked to taunt him like this, making him feel like a child. “Come on, mommy will change your diaper baby,” she said. Simon would have protested but he was used to it by now, this wasn’t his first diaper change.

[messydprs]

[messydprs]

[messydprs]

Even from the corner of her eye, Emma could see he was moving funny. He usually had that crinkly waddle, his legs forced wide by the padding between his legs. But she didn’t even have to glance up from her book to notice that something was…off. His movements were more measured, more tentative as he shuffled back and forth in the living room. A quick sniff of her nose confirmed her suspicions, but she decided not to say anything—not just yet.

Her book forgotten, she watched him meander back and forth across the room, waddling aimlessly, not really searching for anything other than something to say.

After several more minutes of silence, Emma finally spared him.

“Ryan,” she called,. “Do you have something you need to tell me?”

He turned slowly, his expression a mix of nervousness and resignation. “I’m fine,” he mumbled.

“Are you sure?” Emma asked, smiling despite herself. “You don’t have anything…weighing heavily on your mind?”

He hesitated, eyes dancing back and forth meekly.

Emma uncurled on the couch, sitting up straight and putting her feet flat on the floor. “Come here.” She said, soft yet firm.

Ryan rocked back and forth on his toes, unsure, but the look from Emma finally convinced him. He sighed, then slowly shuffled over in front of her, his cheeks a bright pink.

He there stood awkwardly, his hands fidgeting at his sides, head lowered. The silence between them stretched out, thick with tension. The padded bulk between his legs was unmistakable — and Emma’s sharp eyes hadn’t missed the subtle change in his posture.

“Ryan,” she said, her tone cool but not cold. “You’re sure there’s nothing you want to tell me?”

His eyes flicked up to meet hers, then darted away just as quickly. His face was crimson now, lips pressed into a thin line. The scent was stronger now, telling her everything she needed to know, even if he wouldn’t.

“N-no…” he whimpered, voice so small.

“Pull down your pants, Ryan.”

His fingers trembled as the gripped the waistband of his joggers, his breath quivering as he dropped them to his ankles.

He stood back up, his large disposable diaper on display. He lifted his shirt—but only because his arms were raised up to hide his face—giving Emma a better view.

She let the moment hang for a minute. The silence (and the diaper) doing all the talking. Ryan rubbed his face anxiously, wanting to move or run or hide, but all he could do was stand there.

Emma uncrossed her arms and rested her hands on her thighs, giving him a look that was soft around the edges but firm at the core. ���I’ll ask you once more: Did you do something in your diaper?”

Ryan’s shoulders slumped. He gave the smallest of nods.

“Do you want to tell me what it is?” She asked, as if the evidence wasn’t on full display.

His face flushed again, he hid behind his hands, then shook his head.

“Well then I guess ‘Mommy’ will have to check,” Emma sighed, gently taking him by the wrist and making him shuffle closer with his pants still around his ankles.

She slowly poured her eyes over him, tracing her hand up his cowering thighs, running it over his crinkly pamper—but not stopping—her fingers raising his shirt even further, nails dragging across his tummy.

“It’s pretty swollen, Ryan,” she observed, giving the front a gentle squeeze. It was quite warm, and the smell of piss competed with that of the powder and…other things.

Carefully coaxing a finger into the leg bands, she ran it back and forth teasingly, “Did you wet your diaper, Ryan?”

He let out an embarrassed huff, but nodded.

“Use your words,” Emma said, running her palm over the front of the squishy diaper, “tell me what you did in your diaper, honey!”

His bottom lip quivered, “I…pissed myself.”

Her hand stopped abruptly, ceasing his labored breathing. “Say it in little speak!”

His face screwed up again, he shifted, but his voice creaked out in a higher pitch “I-i went pee pee’s in mah diapee, Mommy!!”

“Goood boiii!!!” Emma cooed, patting his pissy pamper affectionately, squeezing it around his hardening cock and giving it a couple good strokes for some positive reinforcement. “Thank you for telling me!”

She released her grip on his swollen padding and sat back a bit, “Now…is there anything else I need to know…?”

Ryan immediately went back into his shy and timid mode. His head hung low, his body deflated, hands subconsciously rising to his face again.

“N-nuh—“

“Turn around.” This time Emma’s tone was sharp, pointed, meaning business.

Ryan was taken aback at first but—perhaps more out of fear than anything—he whimpered and waddled around in a circle, droopy diaper dancing back and forth as he did.

Emma placed her hand under the hefty load in the back of Ryan’s diaper, it was even warmer than the front. “So you don’t want to tell me what this is??” She scolded, pressing her palm inward and smushing the mush into his backside, watching him visibly cringe. He groaned, whimpering.

“Tell me what it is, Ryan!” Emma roared over his pathetic whining and crying. “Tell me what you did in your diaper, sweetheart!”

Ryan continued to squeal as Emma pressed the mess into him, wriggling it around, using her other hand on his hip to serve as a firm reminder that he was not to move or run away. He was to stay in place and take her torment.

He knew it wasn’t going to stop until he voiced it. As hard as it was to say out loud, it was harder to endure such gross humiliation.

“I made a poopy diaper!!” Ryan cried, “I went poo poo’s in my diapee!!”

Emma stopped, dropping her hand. The hefty load fell back down as gravity took over.

There was more silence for a while. Ryan’s breath heavy and labored. His eyes and cheeks moist.

Eventually, he felt Emma’s soft, cool skin as her hand gently took his. With a firm tug, she guided him to stand beside her. Her fingers curled around his wrist, warm and steady. “Over,” she instructed, tapping her thigh.

That got Ryan blubbering again. “No, Mommy pweez! I sorry! No spankies! PWEEZ!!” Even through his pitiful pleas he instinctively started dropping to his knees to climb over her lap for a punishment—but she stopped him.

“No, no, baby!” She said,stopping him. Softly, comforting, “like this…”

She guided one of his legs over hers, keeping him facing forward, away from her. Emma adjusted him with little effort, settling him so that his bottom was properly positioned — thickly padded, snug in his diaper, and directly over her knee. She rubbed his back for a moment, grounding him, then slowly pressed him down so that his weight was fully on her thigh.

“Shhh…it’s okay!” She whispered softly in his ear when it made him cringe.

Peeling back the waistband, she gave the diaper a quick, practiced peek. Again, not because she didn’t know the contents, but to get him familiar with the process.

“You certainly did some damage in there, little man!” She said, patting the waistband closed. She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around him, like a big spoon, “but if you want to wear diapers, you’re going to have to learn to tell Mommy when you use them.”

Before he could reply, Emma shifted slightly, spreading her knees just enough for a better seat. Then, without warning, she began to bounce him — small, controlled lifts of her leg beneath him. The motion was firm, rhythmic, and deliberate. Not punishing, but undeniably corrective. Each bounce jostled him gently but unmistakably, the thick padding exaggerating every motion.

He tried to move away, but she tightened her arm across his lower back, steadying him, pressing him down. “You’ll stay here until you remember this feeling,” she said, not breaking the rhythm of her knee. “Get used to it. It’s going to be happening a lot more from now on. You didn’t think you were going to get to wear diapers and not use them for all of their intended purposes, did you??”

Ryan whimpered and whined.

Bounce. Bounce. Bounce.

Each rise of her knee sent a flush of warmth through his cheeks, not just from the physical sensation of the mush on his bottom, but from the emotional exposure of it all rushing to his face. And yet, as her other hand brushed slowly up his spine, comforting even in the middle of discipline, the duality of it soothed him. She waited for him to finally have his cathartic moment before coming to a stop.

“Come here, honey…” she said softly, turning him around but in the same position, wrapping her arms around him so he could bury his face in her chest, sobbing softly. She patted his back, shhhing him. “I know that was hard, sweetpea, but this is why you need to tell Mommy when something happens in your diaper! You’re supposed to ask for help — not try to hide it.””

“I was embarrassed,” he whispered.

“I know you were, honey.” She cooed, brushing her hand along his back “it must be humiliating being a grown man pooping in a diaper, huh?”

He whimpered at that, but she held him closer and rocked him back and forth.

She knew that he liked to be degraded, but he needed the other part too. “Trying to hide it only makes it worse. I’m here to help you through the hard stuff, even the messy stuff. Especially that.”

He softened at that, melting in her arms.

“You’re safe,” she whispered close to his ear. “I’ll never judge you or leave you or make you feel less-than for the things you enjoy.” She let that hang, then shrugged, “well…other than when we’re in scenes.”

Moments like this—where they were having their kinky play time, experimenting with the dominant and submissive dynamic—always seemed to lead to a breaking down of barriers of some kind. The years of shame and guilt and baggage that Ryan had carried with him about his stupid little fetish all seemed to fade away in that instant. He felt safe in her arms, protected. Accepted, as she rocked him back and forth in his mushy diaper. The smell was horrendous, but she didn’t have a single wrinkle on her nose as she kissed his forehead softly. She loved him. All of him.

“There,” she said gently when he lifted his head off her damp shoulder, his cheeks and eyes still misty. “Better?”

He nodded, hands wiping his face.

She helped him up carefully, her hands guiding him with the same firmness that had corrected him. Their eyes met — his shy and grateful, hers steady and affectionate before she closed them and gave him a kiss.

“Let’s go change your diaper,” she said, standing up, but she had that devious look in her eye again. The one that said she wasn’t done playing. “Then you’re going to go over my lap the other way, I’m going to get the wooden spoon, and we’re going to give you a reminder of why you need to be honest with Mommy.”

[messydprs]

Reblog if you want (1) message saying what someone would do to you if they had the night alone with you.

Please

[messydprs]

Plumpness with cherries on top🍒

[messydprs]

👀

[messydprs]

Forced Regression

I didn’t even realize it was happening until it was too late. Mommy and Daddy had a wonderful way of turning me into their perfect little baby without me even catching on.

First, it started with the pacifier. I had a bad habit of grinding my teeth and biting my lip. I didn’t even notice when it happened usually. All of a sudden, Daddy would be pulling my lip from between my teeth or sticking his thumb in my mouth. I’d instantly melt at the touch.

“Since you like having something in your mouth so much, we got you a gift.” He said, pulling a glittery and decorated pacifier with my favorite little show.

“But I don’t need a pacifier! That’s for babies.”

Mommy and Daddy just gave each other a look. Looking back, I should’ve recognized that look. They already had a plan and knew how it would play out.

“It’s just to help your bad habits. Don’t worry.”

Next, it was the clothes. Mommy would take me clothes shopping when she had a day off. This was always my favorite because I’d get to try on cute stuff she would like. Usually, it was a lacy dress or a shirt that showed off my curves.

What I didn’t expect was the frilly and borderline childish outfits. She pulled out a dress that could’ve been for an adult or child. The pattern of flowers made it much more youthful, but the skirt part was flowy and poofy.

“Just try it on for me.” Mommy said.

“But-“

“You want to make Mommy happy, right?”

Of course, I did. I’d do anything to make her happy, and it was only trying on a dress. It couldn’t hurt anything.

And finally, the diapers. Never in my life did I ever think I’d be wearing diapers now that I was an adult. You never think you would be once you’re potty trained.

Daddy began giving me more glasses of water to drink. He told me it was to keep me hydrated just like he does throughout the day. Hydration was important, so I didn’t mind drinking more and more.

Mommy then began going into the bathroom when I needed to. I’d beg and plead for her to let me in. At first, she’d wait till the last second to let me in, but that didn’t last too long. She only started opening the door when I said I was beginning to pee. I’d be in tears as a little spilled, but it wasn’t enough for an accident.

Then, one day, Daddy was giving me lots of water while we were outside in the backyard. Him and I were playing while we enjoyed the fresh air. I was running from him before he caught me and began tickling me like crazy.

“Daddy! You’re gonna make me pee!”

“Nice try, princess. I know a lie when I hear it.”

I squirmed in his touch, but soon I felt the water pushing on my bladder.

“Wait! I’m serious! I gotta go potty.”

But he didn’t let me go. I looked up to see Mommy standing in front of the backyard door with her arms crossed.

I tried and tried to get out of his grasp. I felt tears beginning to form because I was getting so overwhelmed.

Suddenly, I felt a warmth release throughout my underwear and shorts. Daddy let me go as he saw the mess beginning to form. Tears fell from my eyes in shame as I just watched in horror.

When it finished, Mommy came close.

“Poor baby… you had an accident.” She cooed, pulling out the pacifier. Before I could respond, she pushed it in my mouth and wiped my eyes.

Daddy came and picked me up, holding me close to him.

“Poor thing… guess you’re not a big girl.”

With the humiliation and the words they were saying made me feel warm and fuzzy. I just sucked on the pacifier and hid my face in his neck.

They brought me inside and began changing me out of my wet clothes. I felt the crinkling material under me.

As I sat there later, in a big diaper with a poofy dress and a pacifier in my mouth, I realized this was their plan all along. And now, I’d never get to be anything more than a pants wetter.

[messydprs]

Jamie

[messydprs]

[messydprs]