Night Callers

All Part of the Plan, Ch. 4

This is the fourth and final part of a caption series I co-wrote with @destinedfordiapers, a very sweet little boy who likes to think he’s a grown-up, even though he can’t hold his tinkles! Here are the links to parts one, two, and three.

"Don't be shy, sweetie," I said, dragging my boyfriend outside. "My friends already know all about your little diapies. There's nothing to be ashamed of."

In truth there was nothing little about the thick disposable diaper pushing his legs apart and forcing him to waddle like he'd only just learned to walk. I'd ordered them online, custom-made to look like sized-up Pampers with their white and teal coloring, although at the moment they were looking more yellow than white. They were the only thing he wore.

"I don’t want them to see!" he whined, digging his heels into the floor. "They'll make fun of me!"

"Baby, you’re a grown man who stills needs diapers," I said, rolling my eyes. “You’re going to have to get used to people making fun of you. Boys who wet and mess their pants aren’t entitled to respect. Now stop fighting me and come outside to the pool.”

“No!”

I stopped trying to pull him and he staggered back unsteadily, looking surprised. If he thought I was going to let him off though, he was mistaken. I spun him around and spanked him hard, one, two, three, four, five times on his diapered butt. Through the thickness of his puffy pants, he likely couldn’t feel a thing, but the message was the important thing. I’m the adult. You’re not.

I turned him back around to look at me and pointed my finger into his face like a strict teacher who’d lost her temper with a naughty child. “Listen here, little boy!” I shouted. I saw his eyes widen as the chatter and laughter coming from outside ceased. Everyone could hear what I was saying. “If you don’t start behaving right now, I swear I will take off your diaper, put you over my knee, and spank your bare bottom in front of all our guests!”

His eyes swam with tears and his bottom lip trembled adorably. "I'm sorry..." he said in a whisper. "P-please don't spank me."

I felt a wonderful tingling down below. My big macho man reduced to a snivelling toddler... The expression on his face wouldn't have looked out of place on a three year old!

I'd been getting more and more strict with him over the last couple of weeks. I balanced it out with lots of loving cuddles and cooing, but I wanted him to understand that I had the authority to discipline him if I felt it was necessary.

First I'd started smacking his cute little tushy more often, whenever he whined or got sassy with me. Then a few days ago I'd caught him trying to change his own diaper again. It hadn't even been a messy one! He'd only wet it a little, but he must have been desperate to take some small bit of control over his babyish problem, to take a break from lying on his back on the changing table with his legs in the air while I tickled his tummy and baby-talked to him. That was the first spanking he'd earned over my lap, but I was sure it wouldn't be the last.

I took him by the hand again. "Come along then, diaper boy."

This time he didn't resist as I led him outside, though I felt his grip on my hand tighten at the outbreak of snickering that greeted us when we stepped into the warm sunlight. One of my friends even let out a poorly muffled shriek of laughter at the sight of him toddling out in nothing but his huge, soggy diaper.

I beamed and waved at everyone, and soon the chatter started up again. There were about two dozen people, not all of whom I knew. Some friends of friends had been invited, including some hot guys lounging in deckchairs by the far side of the pool.

My eyes raked over the well toned body of a particularly handsome man. He spotted me looking, so I flashed him a smile and pretended to toy absent-mindedly with the strap of my bikini top, making my breasts jiggle temptingly.

“Who’s that?” my boyfriend asked, scowling. He was trying not to look at any of the guests, but he'd noticed my flirting.

"I don't know, sweetie," I said. "Not yet anyway. I think I'll go and chat him up."

"B-but what about me?"

"Awww, honey... You know I love you, but I still have needs.”

“But then… maybe I could… you know…”

“Ew,” I said, shutting him down at once. “No. I’m sorry baby, but the whole idea is just gross. Don’t even go there.”

He hung his head, and I could see tears forming in his eyes again.

“I know it’s hard to accept," I said firmly, "but I’m not your girlfriend anymore, sweetie. I’m your Mommy now, and it’s not appropriate for you to be pestering me for sex."

"I wasn't pestering..." he mumbled. "And you're not my... I just don't want..."

"If you're a good boy tonight, Mommy will give you diapie rubbies when you're on the changing table tomorrow," I offered, like a mother coaxing a small child with a treat. "You can make stickies in your morning diaper before I put you in a new one! How about that, sweetums?”

"M-my morning one?"

"That's right, baby."

"B-but if you give me rubbies right before you change me, that means it will be when I'm... when I'm... you know..."

"When you're poopy?"

He pouted. “Yes!”

I sighed. “I offer you a treat, and what do you do? You start fussing about how it's not good enough.” I shook my head. “Just for that, from now on all your orgasms will be in dirty diapers, never clean ones. I hope that teaches you a lesson about being grateful, sweetie."

"What?! But...!"

"Not another word out of you, little man! Why don't you be a good boy and splash around in the shallow end? Then I can go and find out what Mr Stud's name is, okay?"

There were a few seconds where he seemed to struggle with himself, and I wondered if a full blown tantrum might be coming. Then his shoulders slumped and he said, "Yes, Mommy..."

I smiled. Everything was perfect. My boyfriend, now ex-boyfriend, had been reduced to helpless diaper dependence. He'd never be able to get another girlfriend. If his stinky diapers didn't put them off, the infantile attitude I was nurturing in him certainly would. He'd stay right where he belonged, under my thumb, while I'd be free to seek adult pleasures elsewhere.

All according to plan!

Don’t leave!

Almost more than anything rejection gets me hot for my hand @i-control-sluts-betas-cuckqueans