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Good Boy Clothing Company Part 2/? - Story

Jason woke up again with a groan, rolling over in his new twin sized race car bed with Spider-Man sheets and a thick, loud plastic sheet underneath. The diaper underneath his lamb onesie was soaked, like most were now when he woke up. Fuck, that was going to be another frowny face on the bedwetting chart, Jason thought to himself as he got up with a squish and waddled down to the breakfast table,
“What the fuck, man?!” Bryce, Jason’s 21 year old brother home from college exclaimed. Oh yeah, he’d only gotten in last night. He didn’t know about…everything,
“Now enough of that language Bryce,” Jason’s Dad admonished, “Jason’s just regressing a little cause he’s finally being a good little boy.” The clothes, Jason thought of again briefly before noticing he was uncontrollably soaking his diaper with more pee. It bulged out against his cotton onesie pants obscenely, like a balloon in a children’s glove.
“You could learn a thing a two about obedience, young man. That’s why I bought you some new clothes as well, after your last grade report I’m hoping we can turn things around with you.” Jason’s dad sternly ordered Bryce, much to his dismay.
After breakfast Jason took a bath while his dad dressed Bryce in a new outfit: hot wheels underoos, long jean shorts, and a red and white striped polo buttoned to the top and tucked in. To top off he had to wear a belt with Sesame Street characters covering it, truly heinous.
Jason almost wanted to laugh at his older brother’s humiliation, until his dad reminded him he was still the baby by taking his towel off him and dressing him in double ultra thick diapers, plastic pants, a pink onesie decorated with unicorns, and then white shortalls. Jason gulped as he realized any messes or spills would become ridiculously obvious in his new ensemble. And he was already christening his new diaper with fresh hot piss that immediately got wicked away by the soft comfortable padding.
“Come on, follow me boys.” Their dad ordered as the two boys, both men in many’s eyes but certainly not appearing to be those right now, shuffled after him all the way to the car.
Another new development awaited the brothers in the backseat, unsurprising to Jason after all his turmoil but horrifying to Bryce; two giant adult sized car seats, one red and blue. Jason’s dad picked up each boy and sat them in their respective new car seats, locking them into the five point harness that stretched across Jason’s diaper and rubbed Bryce’s penis into the lining of his underoos, reminding them both of their humiliation. They had never been so embarrassed, and they had no idea where they were headed but they were not eager to get there.
Jason’s dad had even purchased a CD from that good awful website, which he dropped in and immediately forced Jason to sing along.
These were all his favorite songs from when the boys were in pre-school, much to their humiliation; I’m a Little Teapot, Barney Is a Dinosaur, Tickle Time Is Fun, and Jason’s least favorite: Not Ready For Potty Training (Stinky Diaper Remix.)
Sometimes when Jason’s Dad drove him to school he furthered his humiliation by rolling the windows down while Jason was singing along. There was nothing like the seven am humiliation of being seen by your AP chem lab partner wearing an Elmo shirt and a diaper, sitting in a car seat, and singing along to I’ve Got the Bedwetter Blues.
Jason’s Dad didn’t roll the windows down today though. It was a short drive to the packed Sunnyview Mall.
Both boys groaned as they realized where they were as their Daddy got out of the drivers seat and came around to let each of his adult toddlers out of their car seats.
As they were walking in and people began pointing and giggling, Bryce started rubbing his tummy and walking funny.
You see, The Good Boy Clothing Company had spent a lot of time improving their clothes since they had taken two weeks to make Jason wet himself. Now they were a lot faster acting.
Bryce began to realize this as he slowly let out a loud fart. He NEVER farted in the public. His daddy didn’t acknowledge this as Bryce whined, his stomach rumbling and something moving downwards dangerously. Oh god, he thought to himself.
Jason, meanwhile, was just a large child. His diaper was soaked already, almost leaking, and he had drool sliding down his face. He was embarrassed, but he didn’t know how to stop. And he kindve enjoyed being like this.
Suddenly Bryce stopped walking, cried out in turmoil, bent over, and began shitting his pants. Jason gasped in empathic horror as his dad only sighed and shook his head,
“Damn baby, what’d you do that for?”
“I couldn’t stop it!” Bryce cried,
“Alright, let’s get you changed.” His dad said gruffly. Bryce began to protest, knowing what that meant, but his dad waved it off as he picked his son up and threw him over his shoulder; his bulging poopy pants in the air,
“WOOWEE STINKER!” His dad cried, causing more people to look over and laugh. Bryce wanted to die then and there, “YOU REALLY MADE A MESS LITTLE GUY!” He continued, before loudly and forcefully slapping Bryce’s ass; poop smashed everywhere across his butt and his stupid new toddler underwear.
Ten minutes later and as you can see above, Bryce was all double diapered up and dressed in a brand new outfit since his old one got a little poopy on it. He’s devastated, but Jason’s Dad can’t wait to see what The Good Boy Clothing Company comes out with next!
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“I really don’t know what you see in that clown.” You regretted the words before you were even finished saying them. You wished you could grab them out the the air and stuff them back in your mouth. You didn’t need to wait for a reaction from your best friend since college, you knew each other well enough to read the look on her face. It didn’t help that she’d prefaced the lunch invitation by saying she had “big news” and was very clearly wearing a new ring on her left hand, though the topic hadn’t come up yet.
All the same, you felt your assessment was accurate. After all, you were the one who’d been dutifully sitting through her countless venting sessions about how her excessively outgoing boyfriend was constantly dragging her on “fun” dates in matching outfits to amusement parks, garishly themed novelty restaurants and any circus, magic show or fair that was happening less than two counties over. She didn’t need to tell you that she’d rather just stay home, chill and indulge in the introversion that’d you’d originally bonded over - you two shared a silent understanding that went deep enough to intuit that much.
You’ve never really understood why, but for as long as you’ve known each other, it’s the only kind of guy you’ve seen her go after - boisterous, outgoing and aggressively friendly men who’re just looking to settle down and raise a family. Sadly, you checked none of those boxes. You’d always been naturally shy and overly self-conscious, seemingly doing your best not to draw too much attention in life. All the same, you’d made more than a few failed attempts at making this more than a friendship over the years, only to be gently reminded that she just doesn’t "think of you that way.”
It was a shame - you really thought she could be the one to help you get past the overwhelming diaper fetish that had completely supplanted any interest in standard sex your whole life. You’d tried plenty of times to get into something more traditional, but all attempts so far had failed - some quite spectacularly. You told yourself that you just needed the right person to guide you, someone you could confess your unusual desires to and incorporate them until you got comfortable without them. You knew it was a pipe-dream, just something reassuring you’d tell yourself after another long session of scrolling through endless images of heavily padded men acting like giant toddlers, but it was hard to shake the pressure you felt to be more “normal” when comparing your love life to others.
A lifetime of hiding your childish cravings had left you uncomfortable with even the slightest hint of perceivable immaturity, and the distain you felt for your friend's lover was no doubt linked to a subconscious envy of his obliviousness to how much cringe-inducing attention he brought to himself in public, and how everyone seemed perfectly okay with it. You didn’t want to admit that you envied him, so it was easier to label him a “clown.”
“Hey kiddo, that’s no way to talk about your Daddy.” A familiar voice sprung up from the restaurant booth behind you, though with a firm and chastising tone you’d never heard before.
“Ugh, Sweetie, I thought we agreed that we were going to ease into this…” your friend said like she was looking right through you.
“I know, I know honey, but sometimes you just gotta jump into the pool!” the less than anonymous voice of her future husband replied.
“Okay, confession time.” Your best friend said while giving a stare that told you it was time to lock into every word that was about to come out of her mouth.
“If you think I haven’t been graciously putting up with your criticisms about my choice of partners for longer than I care to think about, baby-boy, you’ve got another thing coming. In spite of that, I’ve been out here looking for the best damn Daddy that this city has to offer for a long time now, and I won’t sit here and listen to my lil’ guy disrespects the father figure I’ve chosen for him! Please don’t think I don’t love you, sugar-plum, but a good Mommy knows not to put the cart before the horse!”
Suddenly, you felt a deeply painful pinch in your right ear. “I appreciate the history lesson, babe, but I think it’s time for a little less conversation and a little more action.” You followed the hand that seemed inescapably linked to your earlobe as it lifted you up out of the booth, past the kitchen and into the restaurant’s intimately small men’s room.
Effortlessly opening the latch on the baby chaining table with one finger, and letting it land with a heavy *thud* that was certainly not unnoticed by the occupant of the nearby stall, the man herby known as “Daddy” thrust you onto the molded plastic slab and undid your pants. “Well, I’ll give you an A for effort, Buster, but looks like we had a little accident. Did Daddy surprise you?" He poked at the notably damp Goodnite XXLs drooping between your legs. "Or did my sweet-pea just want to give me a sneak-preview of things to come?” He slid the soggy "underwear" down your quivering legs and opened the large bag on his hip.
“Sorry, small-fry, but I’ve got to check for myself.” He said before popping open a small bottle and squeezing a glistening substance into his hand. Despite his vigorous efforts, you remained limp and unaffected by the experience. “So far, so good. Okay, time for the real test.” He smirked, aggressively pulling a baby-print adult diaper from the bag and slowly unfurling it, meticulously fluffing it up and working out every possible “pop” it's plastic backing had to offer.
In no short order, and with no need for psychical manipulation, your little soldier was standing at full attention. “Aww, just as advertised!” He gave your throbbing manhood a quick, strangely platonic smooch that had a notable sense of paternal pride that you weren't sure how to react to.
“Oh, my foolish little clown..." he beamed before giving you a hard swat on the bottom "I'm going to have a LOT of fun with you!”
Now, you spend your weekdays indulging in your introversion while watching Bluey and snuggling with Mommy on the couch - trying your best not to think about the upcoming weekend with Daddy. Yet another weekend of singing silly songs on the way to hold hands at the grocery store, another weekend of getting your diaper changed in the movie theater bathroom, another weekend where you're told "It's okay, stinker, everyone gets to know..." when fielding deeply embarrassing questions about your lifestyle from perfect strangers in your stroller while wearing colorful matching outfits at amusements parks, theme restaurants and every circus, magic show or fair that your new Papa can find!
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My Adult Hypnosis Files
All files have their difficulty rating next to them. Level 1 is an easy to get into trance, 2 is a little more deep, and 3 is for experienced hypnosis subjects.
My Patreon can be found at the new link, patreon.com/raydensden
-Hypnoboy Part 1 (lvl 1)
-Hypnoboy Part 2 (lvl 2)
-Hypnoboy Part 3 (lvl 3)
-Hypnoboy Training Pt. 1 (lvl 2)
-Hypnoboy Training Pt. 2 (lvl 2)
-Stress Relief (lvl 1)
-Puppy Pet Training Part 1 (lvl 1)
-Puppy Pet Training Part 2 (lvl 2)
-Puppy Pet Training Part 3 (lvl 3)
-Sooper Hero (lvl 3)
-Master’s Mind Control Chip (lvl 3)
-Dumbing Down Machine (lvl 2)
-Milking Duties- Advanced (lvl 3)
-Hypnosluts just wanna have Fun (lvl 2)
-Stroke Yourself Silly (lvl 1)
-Halloween Werewolf Transformation (lvl 2)
-Mindless Masturbator (lvl 3)
-HypnoDen Spa Massage (lvl 2)
-Encounter with an Incubus (lvl 1)
-A Christmas Gift (lvl 2)
-Desire (lvl 2)
-New Normal (lvl 3)
-Hypnojock (lvl 2)
-Pleasure Pod (lvl 2)
-Obsession: Cocks (lvl 1)
-Rayden’s Pet Imp (lvl 3)
UPDATED- 7/08/2018
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Caught in the act
Jake had been eyeing the daycare classroom for weeks. It was tucked away in a corner of his school, mostly unnoticed by other students, but Jake knew exactly what it contained: stacks of diapers. He didn't fully understand his fascination, but every time he saw those diaper packs through the slightly ajar door, a sense of curiosity and excitement washed over him.
Today was the day. He waited until recess when the daycare kids were outside playing, and their teacher, Ms. Turner, was supervising them. With a quick glance around, he slipped into the empty room. His heart was pounding, and his palms were sweaty as he quietly closed the door behind him.
The room smelled faintly of baby powder, and a stack of clean diapers was piled neatly on a shelf next to a changing table.



Jake quickly grabbed a few of the diapers, stuffing them into his backpack. He felt a mix of thrill and nervousness, his fingers fumbling as he tried to zip up the bag quietly.
But just as he was about to make his escape, the door creaked open, and there stood Ms. Turner. She was a tall woman with curly hair tied back in a bun, and her expression was a mix of surprise and sternness.
"What do you think you're doing in here, young man?" she asked, crossing her arms.
Jake froze, his face flushed with embarrassment. "I-I... I just... I was..." he stammered, unable to come up with a convincing excuse.

Ms. Turner noticed the diapers peeking out of his half-closed backpack and sighed deeply. "You were trying to steal diapers, weren’t you?" she said, her voice calm but firm.
Jake's face turned even redder. He nodded, too ashamed to speak.
Ms. Turner closed the door behind her, locking it. "You know," she began, "taking things that don't belong to you is wrong. And there are consequences for such actions." She walked over to the shelf, grabbed one of the diapers, and turned back to Jake. "If you’re so interested in diapers, maybe you need to wear one for the rest of the day. That should teach you a lesson."
Jake’s eyes widened. "N-no, please, I'm sorry!" he pleaded.
But Ms. Turner was already pulling out a mat from under the changing table. "If you're going to act like a little kid, then you will be treated like one. Now, lie down," she ordered.
Jake hesitated for a moment, looking around as if he could somehow find a way out of this. But Ms. Turner’s stern gaze made it clear she wasn’t joking. Reluctantly, he lay down on the mat, feeling the cool plastic beneath him.

Ms. Turner pulled out a pair of gloves from a box and snapped them on. "This is what happens when you make poor choices, Jake," she said as she took out a clean diaper. "You’re going to wear this, and you’re not allowed to use the bathroom until I say so."
Jake's heart raced as he watched her unfold the diaper. He felt the soft padding as she slid it under him and the coolness of the baby powder she sprinkled generously. She taped the diaper snugly around his waist, ensuring it was secure.
"There," she said, patting the front of the diaper. "Now, get up."
Jake stood up, the bulk of the diaper between his legs feeling foreign and embarrassing. He could barely look at Ms. Turner.
"You will stay in that diaper for the rest of the day, and you will use it if you need to," she continued. "And if you try to take it off, I’ll make sure the whole school knows about your little adventure in the daycare."
Jake swallowed hard, realizing he had no choice. He nodded meekly, hoping the day would pass quickly. But as he walked out of the classroom, the crinkling sound of the diaper with every step was a constant reminder of his punishment.
Jake’s cheeks burned with shame as he shuffled out of the daycare room, his legs awkwardly spread apart by the thick diaper Ms. Turner had taped onto him. Each step made a soft crinkling noise that seemed unbearably loud in the otherwise quiet hallway. He tugged at his shirt, trying to pull it down to cover the top of the diaper, but it was no use — the bulge was obvious. He only hoped no one would notice.
Ms. Turner followed him out, a stern expression still on her face. “Now, Jake,” she said, her voice low and steady, “you’ll come back here after the last bell. If that diaper isn’t wet by then, we’ll have another conversation. Understood?”
Jake nodded, too embarrassed to speak. He made his way back to his classroom, his heart pounding with each step. He slipped into his seat, trying to sit as normally as possible, but the thick padding beneath him made it impossible to sit comfortably. He glanced around nervously, wondering if anyone could hear the crinkle or see the outline through his pants.
Luckily, most of the kids were busy with their own things, chatting or flipping through their books, and no one seemed to notice him. But his friend, Kyle, sitting next to him, turned and frowned.
“Dude, what’s with you? You look… weird,” Kyle whispered.
“Nothing!” Jake snapped a little too quickly, causing Kyle to raise an eyebrow.
Jake shifted in his seat, trying to focus on the lesson. But his mind kept wandering back to the bulky diaper taped around his waist, and the weight of Ms. Turner’s words. His stomach twisted with anxiety, and a new sensation crept up — the growing need to pee. He squeezed his legs together, trying to ignore it. There was no way he was going to use the diaper, no matter what Ms. Turner said.
Minutes dragged on like hours, and Jake’s need grew stronger. He squirmed in his seat, pressing his legs together tightly, but it was becoming harder to hold it in. The pressure was mounting, and he could feel a cold sweat forming on his forehead. He knew he couldn’t ask to use the bathroom — Ms. Turner would find out.
The bell finally rang for lunch. Jake breathed a sigh of relief and stood up slowly, trying to hide the crinkle of his diaper as he walked out with his classmates. He made his way to the far corner of the cafeteria, hoping to find some privacy. His friends sat down around him, but he was too distracted to join their conversation.
"Jake, are you okay?" one of his friends, Lily, asked. "You seem… distracted."
"I’m fine," he muttered, shifting uncomfortably. The urge to pee was becoming unbearable. He glanced around, realizing he had no choice. If he didn't go now, he'd end up having an accident in front of everyone.
He took a deep breath and relaxed, trying to let go. At first, nothing happened. Then, slowly, he felt the warm liquid start to fill the diaper. The sensation was strange and embarrassing, but also, in a weird way, it felt relieving. His cheeks flushed as he felt the warmth spread around his crotch, soaking into the padding.
He glanced around, but no one seemed to notice. The diaper swelled slightly, feeling heavier between his legs. The crinkle had quieted, replaced by a slight squishiness that made his heart race with humiliation. He couldn’t believe he had just wet himself like a toddler.
Lunch felt like it lasted forever, but finally, the bell rang. Jake knew what was coming next — he had to go back to Ms. Turner. The walk back to the daycare room felt like a walk of shame. He could feel every step, every squish of the soaked diaper between his thighs. When he reached the door, he paused, taking a deep breath before knocking.
“Come in,” Ms. Turner called from inside.
Jake pushed the door open and stepped in, his face burning with embarrassment.
Ms. Turner looked up from her desk and smiled slightly. “Well, Jake,” she said, standing up and walking over to him. “Let’s see if you learned your lesson.”
Jake’s heart pounded as she reached down and gently prodded the front of his pants. The smile on her face widened. “Good boy,” she said. “I see you did as you were told.”
Jake swallowed hard, feeling a mix of shame and strange relief. “Can… can I take it off now?” he asked quietly.
Ms. Turner shook her head. “Oh no, not yet,” she replied. “You’ll wear it for a bit longer. In fact…” She walked over to the changing table and patted it. “Hop up here, Jake. We need to make sure you’re properly taken care of.”
Jake’s eyes widened. “W-what? Here?”
“Yes, right here,” Ms. Turner said calmly. “You wanted to sneak diapers, so now you’ll experience what it’s like to really need them.”
Feeling like he had no other choice, Jake climbed onto the table, lying back as Ms. Turner pulled on a fresh pair of gloves. He closed his eyes, feeling his cheeks burn as he heard her rip open the tapes of the soaked diaper. The cool air hit his damp skin, and he shivered slightly. He could hear Ms. Turner’s quiet, efficient movements as she pulled out wipes and began to clean him.
She worked quickly but thoroughly, wiping every corner with professional care. “This is what happens, Jake,” she said softly. “When you take something you’re not supposed to, you have to deal with the consequences. You’re lucky it’s me handling this, and not the principal.”
Jake nodded, feeling tears prick at his eyes. He bit his lip, trying to hold them back as Ms. Turner continued to clean him. When she was done, she unfolded a fresh diaper and slid it under him, pulling it snugly around his waist and taping it securely.
“There,” she said, giving the front of the diaper a pat. “All clean. Now, you’re going to stay in this diaper until the end of the day. If you need to use it again, you know what to do.”
Jake felt a strange mixture of humiliation and acceptance. He nodded, knowing he had no other choice but to comply.
“Maybe this will teach you to think twice before sneaking around where you don’t belong,” Ms. Turner added with a small smile.
Jake lay on the changing table, still in shock at everything that had happened. The fresh diaper felt snug around his waist, the soft padding pressing up against him with a constant reminder of his situation. Ms. Turner had cleaned him up without any sign of frustration, but her stern smile hinted at more lessons to come.
She gently helped him off the changing table, her hands steady on his shoulders. "Now, back to class," she said firmly. "Remember, you’re to keep this diaper on until the end of the day. And if you need to use it… you will use it."
Jake nodded slowly, still feeling the warmth of the fresh diaper around him. He couldn’t believe this was happening. As he walked out of the room, the diaper crinkled quietly under his clothes, and he could still feel the coolness of the wipes and the faint scent of baby powder lingering around him.
Back in class, Jake felt every eye on him, even if no one was really looking. Every noise seemed amplified — every rustle, every shift in his seat. He tried to focus on the lesson, but his mind kept drifting back to the strange feeling between his legs. The thick padding forced his legs slightly apart, and he could still feel the slightest dampness, a leftover sensation from when he’d wet himself earlier.
Then, another challenge hit him — he felt the beginnings of pressure in his stomach. He shifted nervously in his seat, trying to ignore it. But the pressure was growing, a persistent reminder of what Ms. Turner had said. He needed to go… but he couldn’t imagine using the diaper for that.
Minutes dragged on like hours. Jake’s anxiety grew with each passing second. He tried to distract himself by tapping his foot, doodling in his notebook, but nothing worked. The pressure was only getting worse, his body pushing against his will.
The bell rang for the end of the day, and Jake was torn between relief and dread. He stood up carefully, trying to act normal, but every step made him more aware of the situation. He knew he had to head back to the daycare room to see Ms. Turner again, but with every step, the pressure in his stomach grew stronger.
As he walked down the hallway, he realized he wouldn’t make it without… without using the diaper. Panic set in, and he ducked into an empty bathroom. He considered pulling off the diaper and just going in the toilet, but Ms. Turner’s words echoed in his mind: "If you try to take it off, I’ll make sure the whole school knows."
He closed his eyes, his hands gripping the edge of the sink tightly. There was no way out. Taking a deep breath, Jake relaxed as much as he could, letting nature take its course. His stomach cramped for a moment, and then he felt it — a warm, sticky mess spreading in the back of his diaper. He cringed, his face flushing with shame as he filled the diaper. The sensation was strange, uncomfortable, but it was done.
He stood there for a moment, heart pounding in his chest, feeling the heavy, warm weight in the back of his diaper. He felt tears sting his eyes, but he blinked them away. You’re fine… you can handle this, he told himself.
He took a deep breath, pulled himself together, and walked out of the bathroom, every step making the mess in his diaper squish and shift. He could barely stand it, the smell slowly starting to creep up, reminding him of what he had just done.
When he reached the door to the daycare room, he hesitated, his hand hovering over the knob. Taking a deep breath, he pushed it open and stepped inside. Ms. Turner looked up from her desk, her face initially calm, but as the smell hit her, her eyebrows raised in clear surprise.
"Jake..." she began, blinking a few times. "Did you… actually use the diaper for that?" Her tone was a mix of disbelief and something else — almost a hint of amusement.
Jake’s face turned beet red. He nodded, unable to meet her eyes.
Ms. Turner’s lips curled into a small smile. “Oh, my, I didn’t think you’d actually… go all the way,” she remarked, her voice holding a teasing edge. “I thought I was clear about using the diaper if you needed to… but I didn’t expect you to, well, fill it up like a little toddler who couldn’t hold it.”
Jake squirmed under her gaze, wishing he could disappear. He tried to keep his breathing steady, but he could feel his heart pounding in his chest.
“Well,” Ms. Turner continued, “looks like we’ve got quite the mess to clean up, don’t we?” She motioned him over to the changing table. "Come on, let’s see how bad it is."
Jake shuffled over, his head hung low. He climbed onto the table, his cheeks flushing even deeper as Ms. Turner gently guided him back.
She leaned over, her expression still surprised. “I really didn’t think you’d go number two,” she mused, almost to herself. “I thought you were a bit too old for that… but I guess you showed me otherwise.” She gave him a little grin, one that made Jake’s stomach twist even tighter.
She snapped on a new pair of gloves and carefully untaped the front of the diaper. As she pulled it back, her eyes widened a bit, and she gave a low whistle. “Oh my… you really did a number on this diaper, didn’t you, Jake?” she said with a slight chuckle. “That’s a very full one. It’s been a while since I’ve seen a mess like this!”
Jake squeezed his eyes shut, feeling the heat rise to his face. He had never felt so embarrassed in his life.
Ms. Turner leaned closer, inspecting the mess with a smirk. "I guess you couldn’t hold it any longer, could you? Looks like you really needed to go.” She lifted the front of the diaper a little higher, getting a better view. “I’d say you’re a natural at this, almost like you belong in diapers."
She grabbed several wipes and began cleaning him up, her movements deliberate but a little slower than necessary. “Oh, you’ve got it everywhere,” she remarked. “Between your legs, up your backside… You know, I bet you feel like a little baby right now, having your poopy diaper changed like this.”
Jake bit his lip, feeling tears prick at his eyes. He wanted to respond, to say something, but he couldn’t find the words.
Ms. Turner nodded, her tone softening just a bit. “I think you’ve learned your lesson today.” She continued wiping him clean, using several wipes, making sure he was spotless. Once she was satisfied that he was clean, she balled up the dirty diaper and the used wipes, pulling off her gloves carefully and disposing of everything in the diaper genie with a practiced flick of her wrist. “Now,” she said, “I think you may need diapers the way you been going today. Let’s get you in a nice fresh diaper with lotion and lots of powder.
Jake felt a burning in his face as she pulled out a nice fresh diaper and unfolded it Infront of him.
Jake shook his head no, as he said I don't need diapers. Ms. Turner went about her business placing him in the thick crinkly diaper. Once she was done and Jake had a fresh diaper on Ms. Turner helped him down off the changing table.
Jake slid his pants up and as he turned around, he see Ms. Turner placing a small stack of diaper in his backpack. When Jake asked why she did that she said Oh I am sure you will be needing them when you get home.
I have spoken with your parents, and they know all about today. We have all decided that if you want to be in diapers bad enough to steal them from a day care at school, then you will remain in diapers as punishment for the rest of the school year.
I have agreed to care for you and change you when your diaper needs changing here at school. You parents said they will ensure you have extra diapers with you for when you need a diaper change.
Oh, don't cry Jake. You only have 2 more months, and school will be out for summer. Then it is up to you parents to either keep you in diapers as punishment or let you wear your big boy underwear again.
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Success

The nursery is quiet except for the soft hum of the white noise machine, a gentle backdrop to the rise and fall of his breathing. The little boy sleeps soundly, his arms curled around a well-loved plushie, his lips slightly parted. But something is missing. The pacifier that usually rests between those lips is nowhere to be found, likely lost in the tangle of blankets during the night. And even in sleep, his tiny instincts betray him—sucing on his thumb.
But there’s something else, something even more telling of how far he’s fallen. His thick, swollen diaper, no longer just damp but completely used, the heavy bulk nestled against him, warm and unmistakable. It’s not just wet—it’s messy. And the most delicious part? He has no idea.
The evidence of his untraining is right there, so clear, so undeniable. At some point in the night, while lost in dreams of whatever simple, childish thoughts fill his regressed little mind, his body did exactly what it was meant to do. No hesitation. No waking up. No realization. His tummy must have gurgled, shifting and stirring in the darkness, but instead of clenching, instead of trying to hold it, instead of waking up with that old, adult instinct… he just let go. Just like a real baby.
And now, here he is. Sleeping so soundly, so peacefully, in a full, well-used diaper. The scent lingers in the warm air of the nursery, unmistakable yet so innocent in its own way. Because that’s what he is now, isn’t he? Innocent. Unaware. Unable.
A little sigh escapes him, and his legs shift slightly, the crinkling of his swollen diaper barely audible under the blankets. He frowns in his sleep, maybe sensing that something feels different, but he doesn’t wake. Of course he doesn’t. He’s far past that now.
You watch from the doorway, taking in the sight with quiet satisfaction. This is exactly what you wanted. Exactly what you worked for.
When you first started his unpotty training, there had been little signs of resistance—tiny moments of hesitation, fleeting glimpses of awareness when he would squirm or whimper in frustration. But now? Now he sleeps through it. His body does what it’s supposed to do, without a single thought from him. No more shame. No more control. Just a warm, full diaper that he has no hope of changing himself.
And when he does wake up? Oh, that’s going to be even better.
Maybe he’ll stir slowly, stretching his little limbs with a sleepy yawn, rubbing his eyes with chubby fists. And then, at some point, he’ll feel it. The heavy, sagging weight between his legs, the slight squish as he moves. His nose will wrinkle, and maybe he’ll pout, maybe he’ll even whimper, realizing he made a stinky in his sleep. But will he cry? Will he fuss? Or will he just roll over, waiting for you to come check him, because deep down, he knows he’s not in charge of things like that anymore?
Maybe you’ll tease him a little, cooing at him as you check his diaper, pressing gently against the back to feel just how much of a baby he really is. “Ohhh, someone made a big mess, didn’t they? Didn’t even wake up! Such a little baby….”
Or maybe you’ll just scoop him up, shushing him softly, bouncing him gently in your arms while you carry him to the changing table. He won’t be able to help it—the warmth, the closeness, the way you hold him like he’s nothing more than a helpless infant. Even if he pouts or whimpers, his little body will melt against yours, and before long, he’ll be sucking his thumb, already forgetting the state of his diaper because he knows you’ll take care of it.
Because that’s what happens to regressed little ones, isn’t it? They stop worrying. They stop thinking. They stop even realizing.
And this? This soggy, messy little sleeper, curled up in his crib without a clue that he’s done exactly what babies do?
This is proof that you’ve succeeded.
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Like We Don't Know
Bruce and Mitchel sat with you in the living room, while Joal, your secret Daddy, was in the kitchen. They were Daddy’s oldest friends. even though you knew them for years now, it always felt like they were Daddy’s friends and not yours.
Even though you were all teammates who played on the same football team. On short notice, Daddy invited them to come over. The three of you just sat there, watching a rewind of a game, while Daddy made dinner.


“Joal, what about that dinner?” Mitchel yelled from across the house.
“Almost done,” Daddy answered.
A notification on the TV screen appeared. It was a live show you waited to watch the whole week. The remote was on the coffee table, and as you reached it, Bruce took it.
“Nope, we want to watch this,” Bruce said.
“What do you mean? It’s just another rewind, give me the remote,” you said.
“Again… we’re watching it,” he said, not even looking at you.
You knew Bruce can be a dick, but it was your house, not his.
“Bruce, I’m not kidding, it’s my house, give it back, now,” you said in your most authoritarian voice.
He turned his gaze towards you, annoyed, saying “Look now, just stop, or I’ll put you in your place”.
“What?!” you raised your voice.
Bruce took the remote into his lap, put his legs over the coffee table, and crossed them. He let his body sink into the sofa and then started to talk while watching the screen.
“We are done playing this game of pretend, Mich and I, with you and Joal. Joal told us long ago about your arrangement. We know he is the Daddy of this house, and you are the house boy, or may I say, baby.”
You blushed furiously.
“Even now, we can see the bulge of the diaper you think you’re hiding, poorly so. We know you use them because you’re having accidents, we know he treats you like a toddler when nobody’s around, and we even know about that fucking huge nursery he’d put you in for the nights.”

“Joal!” you called for your partner to come over.
“You know what? enough,” Bruce got up and walked to the hallway, opened a door then came back.
Joal came, standing in front of it all.
“Aren’t you going to say something?” you asked him, almost begging, on the verge of tears.
Joal just stood there, Mitchel still sat on the couch, and Bruce came by very close to you, you both were standing.
“He isn’t going to say something, but I will. You are not just the baby of this house, you are a baby. With Daddy Joal, and with us, here or any other place. You are misbehaving and not letting us have a good evening. We won’t tolerate a tantrum from a big baby like you,” he said and put out from his hand your big baby blue pacifier.
You were shaking a bit, from the embarrassment, from how you were reduced from a man to a baby in an instant, from the way he talked down at you.
“You have two choices, take the pacifier and calm down, or I’ll spank you over my knee in front of your daddy, what do you choose?” he asked and held the pacifier in front of you.
You began to tear up, took a step forward, and took the pacifier into your mouth.
You looked at Mitchel, Daddy, and Bruce and began to sob. You didn’t notice but you wet your diaper in the middle of this storm. The diaper felt so good against your erecting peepee while you cried.
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A Little Pretending Game
This is awful. I can’t believe I got tricked into impersonating a toddler. I was with my little cousin waiting for his new babysitter to arrive when he suggested we play a pretending game. He wanted to pretend that he was me and I would pretend to be him. He was pretty insistent and we still had half an hour so I played along. Next thing I know, he’s leading me by the hand to his room and taking one of his nappies out of the pack. I started to protest but I figured no-one else would see me and it couldn’t hurt if it kept him happy.
I laid down and put a nappy on myself and pulled on one of his tops. The next thing I knew, he stuffed a dummy in my mouth and, before I could argue that things were getting out of hand, he ran downstairs and out the front door. I started to chase him only to be stopped by his babysitter coming through the door. She thought I was him! I couldn’t admit that I was a big boy wearing a nappy so I had to go along with it. Now I have to spend the day being treated as little boy.
What will my Auntie say when she gets home?


Ugh, now I’ve been stuck in front of Disney Junior like some little baby. I need to pretend I’m watching, though, so my babysitter, I mean, my cousin’s babysitter doesn’t suspect anything. She’s taking a call from my Auntie in the next room, telling her not to worry about her “little angel” and that I’m being “good as gold”. This is so embarrassing.

20 minutes later…
Heh, this actually isn’t too bad. Miles From Tomorrow is so cool. I wish I could go into space and have adventures just like him. What’s on next?

30 minutes later…
Uh-oh, is that the door…?
“Auntie! I’m s-sorry Auntie, it’s n-not what it looks like! No, I don’t want to be treated like a baby, honest!”

Great, now I’m I’m grounded. Every night after school, I have to go round my Auntie’s house and be dressed in nappies as punishment for letting my cousin go off unsupervised. Any slip-up and I have to stand in the naughty corner. Even worse, my cousin’s started potty trained and now he’s looks down on me because he thinks he’s a big kid and I’m just a baby. How did I let this happen?


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Sleepy little boy says he does’nt need to get padded for the nap… But it seems he does.
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THE BIG BOY BUCKET PART I - ABYSITTER.COM
Featuring @bigbabyboy29
I walk over and set the ‘Big Boy Bucket’ down on the table with a sort of thud. You look up, startled for a moment. You’ve seen pictures of the bucket before on my blog. Now it’s inches in front of you. I can tell you don’t know what to make of it. You read the label like it’s a poison warning lol. “Pick it up and look inside,” I instruct. You obediently comply. The look on your face says it all… I pour the contents of the bucket onto the table. Diaper - check. Wipes - check. Powder - check. I’m doing my checklist out loud, as you lay quietly, taking everything in. I stand over you, gazing into your eyes as I lean down, undo your belt buckle, and then pull your pants down and off in one expert fluid motion. You look surprised by how fast it’s all happening, and your look of surprise only intensifies as I pull your feet up toward your head, your bottom in the air, now…
READ THE REST OF PART I ON ABYSITTER.COM - http://goo.gl/S7t5Cl
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THE BIG BOY BUCKET PART I - ABYSITTER.COM
Featuring @bigbabyboy29
I walk over and set the ‘Big Boy Bucket’ down on the table with a sort of thud. You look up, startled for a moment. You’ve seen pictures of the bucket before on my blog. Now it’s inches in front of you. I can tell you don’t know what to make of it. You read the label like it’s a poison warning lol. “Pick it up and look inside,” I instruct. You obediently comply. The look on your face says it all… I pour the contents of the bucket onto the table. Diaper - check. Wipes - check. Powder - check. I’m doing my checklist out loud, as you lay quietly, taking everything in. I stand over you, gazing into your eyes as I lean down, undo your belt buckle, and then pull your pants down and off in one expert fluid motion. You look surprised by how fast it’s all happening, and your look of surprise only intensifies as I pull your feet up toward your head, your bottom in the air, now…
READ THE REST OF PART I ON ABYSITTER.COM - http://goo.gl/S7t5Cl
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Callum couldn’t believe what the hypnotist had done to him. He woke to find himself lying on the couch and soon noticed the diaper and plastic pants where his boxers usually were.
They felt damp. A horrendous thought quickly came to Callum’s mind. He plucked up the courage to take a peek at his diaper.
Yep! The young man had in fact wet himself like a baby.
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