“It’s Okay Honey… I Know That You’re Trying To Tell Me That Your Diaper Is Now Soaked, But Can’t

The Start of It All

I sat on the floor of my Mommy’s room, legs splayed with a coloring book and some crayons on the floor. Mommy was in the bathroom, standing at her sink and inspecting her reflection in the mirror as she was getting ready for her date. 

This was the first time she was going out, leaving me at home under the care of a mutual friend. When we first started dating, Mommy and I would sleep in her big bed together and go out on dates all the time. But since she started putting me in diapers a few months, I had been relegated to the guest room. 

It had started as something she suggested when the stress from my work started to catch up with me at night. I always struggled to keep my bed dry growing up, and by the time my parents were tired of buying their teenage daughter diapers, I only had accidents when I was feeling really fried.

When I started wetting the bed a few months ago, Mommy suggested that I wear diapers to bed. I was completely against the idea, not wanting to return to the place of self-consciousness and embarrassment at having to wear protection to bed. I tried to argue, but Mommy wasn’t having any of it.

“Pleeeeeaase?” I begged, my voice slipping into more of a whine than I wanted while trying to prove my adulthood. 

“Tell you what, girlie. Starting tomorrow, if you wake up in a wet bed more than twice, I’m putting you in diapers.” Mommy stated calmly, rubbing my thigh to soothe me. I felt my cheeks flush. I knew I would likely fail.

By Tuesday, Mommy came home from work with a pack of diapers under her arm. She hadn’t even taken off her coat or put down her things before I was voicing my displeasure.

“Noooo I don’t need those,” I whined as I followed her around the house. She didn’t acknowledge me, and instead went to the guest room and placed the diapers on the bed. I was on her heels and gave her a questioning look once we were in the room.

“I got a plastic sheet for this bed,” Mommy explained, noting the look of confusion on my face. “I don’t want you ruining my nice mattress, and as a matter of fact, I think your behavior these past few weeks has be convinced this will be for the best.”

“I can’t help it! I just sometime have accidents at night when I feel stressed!” I pleaded, not entirely sure what all of “this” entailed. 

“Sweetie, even when you do keep your bed dry, you act like a toddler most the time. I’ve been thinking about this for a while; your recent nighttime troubles just convinced me this is what you need,” she told me. Her voice was sweet and syrupy, bringing more blood to my face as she led me by the shoulder to the bed. 

“I don’t! I’m an adult and I just am having a rough week!” I protested, trying to keep the whine out of my voice. I tried to struggle against Mommy’s hold on my shoulder, but she tightened her grip when she felt my resistance. 

“Sweetheart, when we are sitting down to dinner and trying to find something on to watch, if I let you pick, where do you always look?” she asked, using both hands to sit me down on the bed.

“Uhm, I don’t know,” I said, not wanting to answer. “You go to Disney+. And, if I’m picking and choose something more grown-up, you get so fussy and complain about how boring it is,” she said as she pushed me back into a lying position on the bed. “If we are having a big dinner that needs cutting up, do you cut it up yourself or ask me to help you?”

I didn’t answer her, choosing to turn my head to the wall and stare it. My thoughts were racing around in my head. I knew that Mommy liked it when I played a little bratty, and it sounds like maybe I played too far into that. I wasn’t a baby though!  

As I turned my head and opened my mouth to say such, a pacifier was slipped past my lips. Without thinking, my mouth started to work the nipple and I felt my heart rate slow a little. 

“See, sweetie? This is for the best,” she said as she moved to undo my jeans. “I know it’s not bedtime yet, though yours will be much earlier than it used to. I think we should start you in diapers at home all the time. I’ve seen your undies when I do our laundry, and you have little pee-pee accidents in them all the time, don’t you?” she asked, tickling my tummy. 

“I don’t wet my pants! Those are just tiny little spots,” I pouted behind my pacifier.

“Anyone who ruins their undies like you do deserves to be in diapers,” she said with a certain finality that I knew I’d have to revisit this in a few days if I wanted to change her mind. Her hands were poised at the top of my jeans, getting ready to unbutton them and take them off. I missed when she opened the package, but a thick, folded diaper lay next to me on the bed, some wipes and powder next to it.

“Please don’t,” I whined through my pacifier, but she ignored me as she pulled my pants down and started getting me into my first diaper in years.

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More to come on this! I have lots of ideas for where I want it to go! [18+ only; minors dni]

Emma got used to moving around her friend's house in handcuffs, treated more like a pet than a human. Ever since she had mentioned having a crush on her best friend Natalie, and drunkenly admitted to submissive fantasies of her more successful, prettier, more confident bestie bossing her around and using her Natalie had decided to find out just how far she could take it.

At first Natalie hadn't known how to respond, but Emma seemed so eager to give up control Natalie had to do very little to take it. What started as simple demands, Emma fetching Natalie drinks, or giving foot rubs, or cleaning the apartment soon began taking on a more sexual nature. Natalie had Emma lick her panties clean after dates, denied Emma her own orgasms, and soon had Emma move in, keeping the girl in a tiny box room that used to be a study, but now housed a small bed and a cage.

Emma gave up her possessions as Natalie wrapped her around her finger, selling them while her money, accounts, everything were signed over to her bratty new owner.

Natalie was at most bi-curious, but the power she had over Emma was intoxicating, and after a lot of begging from the submissive blonde, Natalie finally let the girl worship her pussy with her eager tongue, enjoying an explosive orgasm, part from the pleasure given to her, and part from the power she held over her once equal best friend. Now Natalie enjoyed Emma's tongue regularly, especially after she came home from fucking her boyfriend. She loved the scrunched up look of disgust she saw on Emma's face the first time she found Natalie's man's hot load oozing from her pussy, but Emma knew better than to disobey, and licked up every drop.

Hey, I don't know if you do requests, but I was wondering if you could do like an unfair regression story. I'm sorry for asking if it wasted your time.... have a wonderful day.

Anon, your wish is my command. I hope this is what you had in mind:

Joanna Hedrix had a 'thing' for diapers. Almost as soon as she was out of them she knew she wanted to go back.

Her opportunity came when she turned 18 and moved out of the family home to live away in her college town.

For the first time she could order packages for herself without scrutiny from her family members. Straight away she ordered a dozen samples of adult diapers, desperately excited by the bright colourful designs and various claims of padded absorbancy offered.

On the first week of living in shared student accommodation Joanna met her flatmates, Sabrina and Chelsea. She enjoyed spending time with the girls goofing around in the shared kitchen/living space but was also glad for the privacy of her own room.

By the end of the week her order finally arrived. She rushed to the apartment door to sign for it and all but slammed her bedroom door behind her again in great excitement.

Excitedly she laid out each of the diapers on her bed to compare them, enthralled by the touch of soft plastic in her hands.

She already knew which she wanted to try first. The fabine diaper she slipped her panties off for had been her most coveted desire, aparently they were one ofvthe most absorbant diapers on the market.

Joanna had just finished landing the last tape and was coyly touching the crotch of the diaper, admiring the new padded sensation between her legs and around her butt, when a rapid knock rapped from the door.

"Hey Joanna! Do you have any spare toilet paper?"

It was Sabrina. Joanna paused, startled, then pulled some shorts up her legs before throwing a duvet over the diapers on her bed.

The bulge of her diaper was painfully obvious but Sabrina was still knocking on her door. Anxiously Joanna let her in, hoping it would be a quick exchange and her diaper would go unnoticed.

Sabrina barged past her and beeline for the ensuite, the latch clicking behind her.

Joanna cursed under her breath. Sabrina's desperation was worse than expected, she had planned for this. She felt like a fool, standing in the middle of her room wearing a diaper while her friend was using her bathroom. She considered stripping the crinkly garment off but she had no way of telling how long Sabrina might be in the ensuite for so she wasn't convinced she could dispose of the evidence.

When Sabrina did emerge she was in a chatty mood.

"That's so much. I ran out of toilet paper and I really needed to go. Hey, I like how you've decorated your room, I haven't seen it until now. So, how are you finding your class so fa...?“

Saberina had stopped in mid sentance bale cause to Joanna's dismay she had just sat down on the bed which had crinkled obnoxiously beneath her. Slowly Saberina reached beneath her and pulled out a big abdl diaper. Holding it with both hands and curiously turning it over in disbelief.

"Why did you have to do that!“ Joanna demanded, as furious as she was humilated.

"Why do you have diapers on your bed!?" Sabrina countered coldly.

"Why are you both yelling?“

The arguing girls turned to find Chelsea standing the doorway, having arrived to find out what the commotion was all about.

"Joanna wears diapers." Sabrina sniggered.

"No I don't!“

“looks like your wearing one right now. Puffy pants." Chelsea joined in the teasing and gave Joanna's padded but a playful slap.

Although her flatmates eased up on their teasing, sending poor shaking Joanna was on the verge of tears, they never the less refused to leave until she recounted the full tale of why she had diapers and why she liked them.

Joanna's flatmate's agreed not to spread her secret around the campus so long as it became, 'their' secret. Joanna learned this mrleant her friends wanted to be involved on her diapering. In exchange for their silence Joanna was subjected to some unfair rules. She had to wear diapers at times when in the flat. She had to used them rater than the toilet, like a baby. She wasn't allowed to changer herself, she had to let her friends do it for her.

It was an utterly embrassing compromise but better than the whole campus finding out she was a diaper girl.

......

Thanks for being patient with me everyone. I've been very busy so haven't been getting regular captions out but that will change!

You lean there against the bars of your crib, despondently contemplating your future. Hair done up in the most adorable pigtails, the prettiest and cutest onesie imaginable snugly wrapped around you, your thick and now ever-present diaper swaddling your groin… Yes, you are quite the sight. You know it. Auntie reminds you of it every day, after all…

A sigh escapes you as you meditate on the life choices that have led you to this unexpected place. Not every twenty-three-year-old young woman expects to be reliving her infancy! Normally, folks finish college and find a job so they can settle down, maybe find someone special, pay off those hideous student loans, and get on in life. Well… that’s the plan, anyway. But when a job isn’t forthcoming, and you’ve got no family to rely on… It’s tough.

Into that darkness had suddenly come Auntie’s offer. She was not really an aunt - more of a friend of your parents before they’d passed away - but she did seem to have a soft spot in her heart for you. It didn’t hurt that she was pretty obscenely wealthy, either. So when she’d offered to help you out if you could only come live with her and help with her home business as a personal secretary, you’d jumped at the chance. Maybe fairy godmothers - or at least super generous aunties - really were a thing! At any rate, you had nothing to lose, right?

Well, maybe you did, you reflect now, feeling yet another warm spurt of urine wash into the reassuring padding between your legs. Sure, Auntie was taking care of your student loans, waving a bank account number and magically making them disappear. But she, indulgent as ever, had also begun to buy you clothes and furniture that seemed decidedly out of keeping with your age. It wasn’t every young college graduate that had footie pajamas, sparkly princess shirts, and a bed with a built-in railing, was it? The pattern had progressed over the months, and you’d kept your mouth shut, not wanting to appear ungrateful to the woman who had literally given you a financial future…

Until the day when she’d brought home a onesie and shortall set with snaps in the crotch, and had begun cooing over how cute you’d look in it. You’d timidly asked the rather rhetorical question: did she want you to look like a baby? And when she’d unexpectedly told you, yes, she kind of did, the real discussion had begun. She’d always wanted a child of her own, she sadly smiled, and you were the closest thing she’d ever had to a daughter. Couldn’t she at least pretend that you were her little girl? It would mean so very much to her…

Well, the power dynamic being what it was, you’d been completely and utterly unable to say no.

So here you were, a full year into your new job with Auntie. It had been six months at least since you’d even touched the big girl potty - six months that had been filled with little more than bottle-feedings and high chairs, bulging diapers and smelly diaper pails, a doting Auntie and you as her increasingly dependent baby girl. You felt your big girl life steadily slipping away, all the exciting knowledge and ideas from college drifting ever more certainly into the past… You were Auntie’s “secretary” now - more like her office baby, whose only remaining job was to waddle and crawl around and put the wadded-up papers one by one into the trashcan. It was a mind-numbing routine, but admittedly a seductively simple and comfortable one. No phone calls or meetings or appointments like Auntie had - just your familiar carpet and toys and ba-bas to keep you company… It could be worse, couldn’t it?

And as you felt the familiar pressure building in your tummy, you sighed again, releasing the now-familiar wave of soft, warm mush easily and steadily into your expanding diaper, followed by the involuntary flood of pee afterwards. Well, whatever. You didn’t get upset over such things anymore. Auntie would change her stinky baby sometime soon. It didn’t matter much anymore, after all - you were wet or dirty most of the time these days. Maybe that was the real trade-off, you mused as your diaper slowly sagged underneath your adorable onesie. Trading your dignity and independence for a secure future…

Was it worth it? You honestly didn’t know… But even if you did, you probably couldn’t have done a thing to change it. Not anymore.

Image Credit: Ageplay247.com

Please keep my caption intact if reblogging; as long as you do, may the dust bunnies under your furniture magically disappear.

“Worthless”

I do not like the concept of someone being “worthless” in the context of BDSM, it’s not something I have ever said to a sub and it’s not something I enjoy seeing. I’ll preface all of this by saying that I can understand hypothetically why that term could be appealing to people in a humiliation context, but it’s just not for me.

If you have ever so much as glanced at my blog, or even read the title, it shouldn’t be hard to see that I am very interested in humiliation. Some of my absolute favorite things to do in a D/s context are to piss on a sub and make her make out with my ass. In that context I may call a sub my urinal or ass licker, and it might be all I call her that whole day.

So you might ask if you are willing to piss on someone and call her a urinal, then why not worthless? Two reasons:

1) Whether you are dripping in piss or you have your head shoved up my ass, that doesn’t make you less of a person. I may make her do degrading things, but I never think less of her as a person because she is doing something I want her to do, if anything those are moments where I praise her, for doing things that are difficult to endure, because they please me. That’s absolutely worthwhile.

2) I think that any good humiliation has to be rooted in some level of truth. If I call someone a urinal for example, there’s truth to that title. It might be degrading to hear for her, but that’s because she knows there is truth to that and so do I when I say it. If I were to say someone was worthless, I wouldn’t believe that and wouldn’t want her to believe it either, which is not effective in creating the mindset I want.

I get on average 4-5 messages a month from random people on here where in their first message they describe themselves as worthless. I understand that they usually think they are demonstrating that they are interested in humiliation, but it’s not appealing to me. Quite the opposite, when I first get to know you I want to know all of the things that make you worthwhile, your skills, your talents, along with your faults and flaws, but when the first thing you tell me is that you are worthless, it makes me wonder than why I should take my time to respond to you. When I look for someone, I want someone who is going to add to my life, enrich it in various ways that I might choose and that I can do the same for her.

So while I fully support others using those types of phrases in their humiliation play and can understand the appeal, it’s not something for me. I don’t think people are worthless, I certainly don’t think being a submissive negatively affects your worth as a person and if I did think you were worthless I certainly wouldn’t have interest in speaking to that person let alone considering them as a partner and/or submissive.

Come on baby brother it’s time for you to get out of here. Say bye bye to your big boy room. We’ve got all the stuff downstairs to turn this into your new nursery!

Oh stop that silly. How could I forget that you’re older. You made sure to point that out well before our parents got married, but now that you’re back in diapers and on the regression regimen it’s important to recognize that you’re just a baby now. This is why it’s so important that you go to GamGam’s for the weekend. I mean how can you accept that you’re a baby when you’ve got a TV and Xbox in your room, when your closet is filled with clothes from your old life, and when you have all these big boy posters on the wall.

None of these is fit for the overgrown toddler you’re turning into, but don’t worry big sissy, mommy, and quite a few of our friends are going to help! First we’re going to cover up these boring white walls with some adorably wallpaper! Oh you’ll love it, it’s got cute little baby animals, balloons, and clouds! Then we’re going to put a nice soft rug down so that you can spend hours crawling around and playing on the floor. We’ve got a toy chest that we can fill up for you, and we have enough baby clothes to fill your closet full! Hey no tears baby it gets even better. We’ve got a big crib to assemble so you’ll be safe and secure for nighnigh and naps, and right where this desk with your tv is we’re going to put your changing table! Oh and I’ve got a super special surprise for you. You’re getting your own adult baby bouncer put it! Now you don’t even need to worry about standing up all the time. You can just bounce bounce away while those sweet hypnotic nursery rhymes play

Now you can imagine the cost of this, so I helpfully suggested to mommy that we don’t go for a top of the line diaper pail. Sure this one probably wont stop the smell of your soaked and yucky diapers, but as I explained to mommy that’s all for the better really. Think about it, in a few days you’ll we back in here, staring at the cute duckies on the wall, bouncing away in a full diapy, and smelling all the diapers you’ve been changed out of, all while that adorably regression nursery gets your further and further away from your big boy life.

Hey don’t get cross with me mister. Plenty of grown men are getting regressed back to babyhood these days. I mean when you move back in to the house you grew up in what are you really telling the world anyway? You might as well move all the way back to a crib and diapers. Just because I recommended it to mom doesn’t mean you get to act naughty around me. Hey look down, do you see that super wet diaper hanging off your hips? Yeah it was dry when I walked in here. You’ve been peeing in it the entire time I’ve been talking. Uh huh and here come the tears. Listen up baby, you need to go downstairs and ask your mommy for a diapy change before she takes you off for the weekend. You don’t worry you silly little head about anything else. The grown ups are here to take care of all these big moves.

Look into the camera, sweetheart. Yes, that’s right. Perfect. Stare into that blank black ball on your nursery wall. Let me see the mingled relief and despair in those intelligent eyes. Let me see that fear, that arousal, that groveling, squirming, abject humiliation… Show me just how turned on you are, how embarrassed it makes you feel to be firmly bound, tightly gagged with your own babyish pacifier, and stripped naked on your very own changing table by your very own nursemaid…all while your daddy watches.

Such an absolute baby you are becoming, sweetheart. So immature, so infantile… Goodness, just look at you! You can’t even be trusted to stay put on your changing table, can you? No, you have to be cuffed and strapped down, securely fastened like a helpless, mindless little thing who can’t even control her own body. Nor can you, sweetie; I think the heap of heavy, smelly diapers over in that diaper pail can testify to that… No, we can’t trust you for anything anymore, sweetie - nor should we. You’re our baby now - mine and your pretty little nursemaid’s. You’re ours now, and we’re never going to let you forget. 

Keep staring into your nursery cam now, sweetheart. Remember who’s on the other side, gazing lovingly, in full arousal, at the beautiful sight you present. Think of me: your husband and daddy, the one you crave to please, the one you begged for this very treatment. Remember how you stammered out your longing to me last year, how you yearned to be babied, to be forcibly regressed into infancy? I do. Oh, I do. And because I love you, sweetheart, because I want to give you everything you desire…I gave this to you. Don’t you ever forget, sweetheart.

Be a good little baby now. Spread those beautifully smooth, babyish legs for your Nursie. Feel the soft tickle of the baby powder coating your tender skin, Nursie’s caressing fingers gently massaging it into your yielding thighs. Suckle that nipple Nursie has so firmly strapped into your pretty little mouth, feeling its plump roundness, recalling the feeling of sucking on something very different - something longer and stiffer… Don’t worry, sweetie - someday you’ll get to do that again… Until then, your dummy and your nice, full ba-ba’s will keep you satisfied, keep that lovely suckling mouth occupied…

Oh, yes. Here comes the diaper now - your diaper, honey, and no one else’s. Let the now-familiar musical crinkle fill your ears. Feel Nursie lifting your precious powdered bum, settling you onto that gently rustling, wonderfully thick padding you blushingly told me you love so much. Oh, why are you surprised to feel that extra stuffer being wrapped snugly around your pretty little princess parts? We all know by now just how much you wet, how heavy, full, and soggy your diapers inevitably become. You are a baby now, sweetheart. And babies don’t get to decide what they wear, if anything. Nursie and I will dress you - or not - as we decide. And you, as our baby, will comply. You have no choice…absolutely none.

And that is so incredibly liberating, isn’t it? You are our baby, and nothing more. No choices, no decisions, no grownup thoughts or worries. Yes, worry if you like about your past grownup life. Worry about whether your drenched diapers will leak or not as you plop down onto them with that adorably audible squish. Worry whether you can drink yet another bottle, forcing ever more formula into your swollen little belly… But remember: no amount of worry will ever change anything now, dear. We will treat you as we please - feeding, diapering, changing, dressing, burping you as we see fit. And you will never be able to change that.

Why? your beautiful blue eyes ask. Because you asked for this.

Look into the camera once more, sweetheart. Feel your mind dissolving into infancy, your old self receding. Embrace babyhood, my love - in all its innocent, delightful humiliation. It is my gift to you. Accept it now, blushing… squirming… awash in deliciously sensual, infantile humiliation.

Image Credit: ABDreams.com

Please keep my caption intact if reblogging; as long as you do, may your air-conditioning never break down.