mistmane56

Latest Posts by mistmane56

Reblog If…

Goodnight people! 😘💦 have a wet night!

Shane was frankly shocked at how quickly his niece had taken to humiliating a diaper, yes, bitch like himself.

He'd known about her OnlyFans account for a year, after his wife told him about it after his niece Kaylie had confided in her. The 25-year-old daughter of his sister, Kaylie had always been a bit of a wild child, bounced between jobs, and was now trying her hand at OnlyFans.

He swore he wouldn't check it out. Swore! That would be too fucked up, even for someone like himself, a first-class pervert who only ejaculated in pissy or poop-filled Pampers, and had subjected himself to every form of humiliation known to man.

But of course a sissy can't hold out forever. So one night he took a peek. Pretty standard stuff. Pay her some bucks and she'd show her ass, pussy or tits. Great for regular men, not so great for him. Well, that and the whole niece part.

A few months later he looked again and she'd added "dick pic ratings." Hmmm. She send she'd rate your dick "but be warned if it's a shrimp dick I will laugh." Someone must have taught her some kinky tricks of the trade. Still, he resisted. That would be crossing a line, right? Send his one-inch dick pic to his niece to be mocked?

Fast-forward even more months later. And the sissy--married, living a normal man's life--had fallen into the clutches of a dominant daddy. A dominant daddy who had slowly and surely worked his way into the sissy's brain, tormenting him, humiliating him and eventually convincing Shane to send him his full name and address, and face pics of him in his Pampers. Oh-oh. Exposure? Not quite yet. But the threat hovered.

Eventually in their chats Shane revealed his niece's OnlyFans, which delighted the daddy. Weeks later his daddy wrote and said he'd been chatting with Kaylie and lo and behold had worked with her on talking to adult babies and sissy fags. "And your niece has really taken to it. She's seen how lucrative it can be humiliating Pampers pussies."

Next? You can guess. Daddy had Shane writing to his niece on OnlyFans. Submitting to her as a diaper fairy. His niece loved humiliating the sissy she knew as "Sissy Shanna." Whoa, bit too close to his real name but daddy insisted on Shane using that name.

She made him pose. Made him prance around public in diapers. Made him write humiliating phrases on his Pampers. Like Diaper Bitch. Made him cum in his diapers and eat it and eat it he did. He always told daddy about the convos.

Then, the next step.

"Okay, sissy. Time for Kaylie to get a face pic."

Nooooooo. Noooooo, daddy. Shane begged and begged. Daddy relented. "Tell youu what. You don't have to send it to her. I will."

And so daddy did. Sent Kaylie a pic of Shane in a poopy diaper. Sucking a pacifier. Wearing a pink bonnet and a bib that read "Sissy Cocksucker." Tears coming down his face added a nice touch.

Kaylie got the pic. And 30 seconds later Shane got a text from her.

That would be the end of his old manly life. Soon enough everyone in his life would know the real him. He'd be thrown out by his wife. Disowned. Fired. "But it's okay," daddy said. "You'll come live with me and my wife. She hates men and wants them all to be sissy diaper fags and I love sissy fags so you'll have a loving home. And hey, maybe we'll keep having Kaylie help with your training."

Freshmen are always assigned random roommates when they come into college. Your roommate was a definite straight masculine jock. He figured out pretty soon that you're a fag. But instead of kicking you out of the room, he decided to take advantage of the situation. So he had you doing his laundry, writing his papers and doing his homework, giving him pocket money every once in awhile, cleaning the room when he told you to, and when he came home drunk and hadn't hooked up, he made you blow him. Sometimes, like this, when you walked into the room he'd be gaming or on his phone or computer and he'd make you get down and he'd use your face as his footstool. He thought it was funny. He didn't change his socks often, and that even made the room smell like his sweaty socked feet all the time. He'd rest them heavy on your face and rub them in it until your face was all chafed, and he'd say how do you like smelling a real man faggot? And he'd laugh. You knew there was no way out of that room unless you went and complained at the housing office. You knew you were stuck there for at least this year until you could pick a different roommate next year. You were so humiliated and you were tired of doing all his work and all his errands that took up too much of your time and took you away from your studies. But you hated to admit it, it did give you a hard-on. Right around now is the time when roommates get to pick if they're going to stay together or go and find another roommate in a different room. He told you that you didn't even have to go, that he was going to take care of it. And he said that you were going to be his roommate next year and nothing was going to change and there was nothing you were going to do about it or he'd beat the shit out of you. For the first time ever you said to him, yes Sir. It was going to be a really long and tough four years but, inside you knew it would be worth it. "Sniff my stinking socks faggot" you heard him say as his sweaty suck feet rest on your face as he was gaming. It brought you back to the present. This is what you had become, a straight jocks slave and sock sniffer. Enjoy college homo.

“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!

Your nephew said he'd tell your brother that you tried to have sex with him if you didn't do everything he said. So there you were, a grown man, servicing your nephew's stinking sweaty socked feet for his sadistic bully amusement. He came over to your house every weekend to make you do this and then started inviting his friends over and hang out at your house, and sometimes he'd make you sniff and service their sweaty socked feet too. High school bullies are so cruel. And because you're a faggot they enjoyed it even more. Sometimes they'd be gaming or watching TV, drinking beer and smoking weed they made you buy for them, and used your face and body as their footstool for their big sweaty socked feet. You were humiliated but what could you do. If your nephew lied to your brother about sexually molesting him, he'd kill you, or at the very least you'd end up in jail, because you know that all his buddies would say they saw you do it. So, you accepted that you were your nephew's, and of his buddies, sock slave. Your pathetic fag life has come to this.

Things changed fast under the Trump MAGA administration. All gay equal rights bills on the federal, state and local levels were rescinded overnight. Straight Men were encouraged to bully and harass faggots though government public service announcements on television. They even went so far as to suggest that Straight Men using faggots as slave labor, or any other type of slavery, would be treated with a "turned head" by the government. So there you were, in this guy's apartment having your face used as his footstool for his sweaty smelly socked feet, worn through several workouts. You were just buying a coffee at Starbucks when he came up to you and grabbed your arm and said come with me faggot. You knew what was now happening all over the country to faggots like you and you knew you had no recourse if he beat you up. You thought he probably could kill you and no one would do anything. So you ended up at his apartment, cleaning it at his command from top to bottom, then having your face used as his footstool for his stinking dirty workout socked feet. You just laid there quietly with their stink and heavy weight on your face, hoping that nothing worse would happen to you as the hours went by.

Picture source: anonymous

"You lost our bet, so now you are mine for a month." Danny spoke while pointing his socked foot towards his tiny friend on the floor.

Greg had made a bet with Danny on who was stronger. The loser would get shrunken down to size and belong to the winner for a month as his toy. Danny completely bet him in the weight class, showing that he was much stronger than him. He reluctantly admitted defeat and let himself get shrunken down to just 3" tall.

"I know I lost our bet. But it's only for one month anyway." Greg spoke, wishing he had won. Looking up at his friend's giant foot made him feel extremely small.

"It might not be as much fun for you, though." Danny smiled. "Some time in my shoe under my foot might having you wish you were stronger." He laughed as he reached down and picked up tiny Greg. He dangled him over his shoe and then dropped him in. He tilted his shoe so that he was at the toe end.

Greg saw the massive socked foot coming towards him, blotting out the last of light he could see. There was no way out as massive socked toes covered him and began to play with him by flipping him over and over.

Danny found it a little fun playing with his friend as a tiny toy under his toes. He could tell it really was going to be a fun month for him. He might have to bring his toy to every work or wherever he is wearing any of his shoes, for that matter.

I really want this! Someone please

Caught by his roommate

Jason thought he had the apartment to himself. His roommate had gone for the weekend. Little did he know his roommate had car trouble and ended up coming home early.

Jason turned when he hears the door open and was shocked to see his roommate had returned. Maybe not as shocked as his roommate was seeing Jason standing in front of him wearing a very soggy diaper and sucking on a pacifier.

WTF his roommate says. Jason say's I can explain as his roommate who is a Jock snaps photos of him with his phone. Once the door closed Jason's roommate Mike said oh no need to explain. I found a diaper in the trash when I took it out the other day, so I search your room and found the stash of diapers.

I looked it up online and found it is common for people to wear them. So, from this day forward you will wear diapers and call me daddy. No more big boy undies for you.

Jason was at a loss for words as mike approached him and walked him to the bedroom. as Jason lay on the bed Mike said show everyone your soggy diaper baby boy.

Such a good boy Mike said as he took the photo. He explained to Jason that he will remain in diapers and use them for their intended purpose.

Mike told Jason to go to bed and he would see him in the morning. The next day Mike walked in his room and said show me your diaper baby boy.

He wasn’t soaked just yet, but he knew at the first sign of a leak his roommate would change him into a fresh diaper.

Jason hoped he only had to stay diapered for the rest of the school year. But little did he know Mike had already signed him up to be his roommate next year as well.

Jason has 3 more years of school to get through and he has no idea he is going to be in diapers for the next 3 years of his schooling. Mike has plans for Jason and even changed his Major so he could keep an eye on his diaper boy.

I want someone to put apple screen time on my phone so I can’t look at adult things anymore🥺🥺

The woods, once a place of escape, now felt like a cruel stage, the dampness a blatant testament to my failure. The denim clung to my skin, cold and heavy, the telltale stain a silent scream of my humiliation. I tried to hide it, to pretend that nothing was amiss, but the warmth, the stickiness, it was a reminder that my control had slipped, had completely abandoned me in the middle of nowhere.

The walk back had been a torturous ordeal, each step a reminder of my public defeat. I needed comfort, I needed solace, I needed to get home. The thought of the soft, familiar embrace of my bed was my only motivator.

And when I finally made it, I made the decision to embrace it, and not hide it. I pulled off the soaked fabric and reached for what I really needed, what I truly craved. Then, I saw it. The fire truck pattern seemed almost mocking at first, a childish display on a grown man's diaper, but as I pulled it on, I felt it, the relief, the comfort, the unspoken promise that this was okay, it was me.

I sighed, my body finally at ease, the soft fabric a protective barrier against the world's gaze. This was me, the truth I had tried to hide. And now, finally, I was home, and I was safe.

The camera clicked, capturing the pathetic tableau: two boys, two former "loves" of mine, both reduced to diaper-clad playthings. Their gazes locked, not with affection, but with a dawning horror, their hands awkwardly exploring the soggy bulk between their legs. A shared humiliation, a bond forged in my twisted desires. It was almost too perfect.

They had both hidden their little secret from me, both presented me with a facade of normalcy. But beneath it all was a shared truth – they both loved diapers, and I could wield that against them. The betrayal had been my ammunition. The past relationships had been for this moment.

I'd brought them together, not for intimacy, but for punishment. One had the job of getting more. I gestured to the door, my gaze locking on one of them, the one who thought he was special. It was time for his public shame. He had one task, and that was to get my shopping, and do it in his little padded diaper.

The photo arrived, a silent testament to his desperation. The diaper peeking out from under his t-shirt, a secret made public, his humiliation on full display as he pushed a cart through the brightly lit aisles. They had both fallen. And now, they both belonged to me. I was no longer dealing with the facade, only the truth.

My room, once a refuge of teenage angst and digital distractions, was now a twisted cartoon, a candy-colored testament to my complete and utter defeat. My life, I could now see it all so clearly, had become a joke, a punchline that I was forced to endure, day after padded day. The layers of diapers, the softness between my legs, it was now my reality. It was my everything.

The door swung open, a burst of laughter filling the space, and there she was, my ex, Emily, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of amusement and something akin to twisted affection. She had always been like this, making me feel so, so small.

“Ooooh, Jason, did you fall again?” she exclaimed, her voice dripping with mock concern. “I know how hard it is with those huge diapers! They’re so big and round that you just can’t stay on your feet!”

She approached, a predator in a human form, offering me a hand that I desperately needed. I knew, that I was just going to fail again, it was inevitable. I tried to move. I tried to get up. But it was impossible, I was being pulled back by the soft, padded chains that held me to the floor. She was right, I was like a Russian nesting doll. Unable to stay upright. I was going to fall again.

*"Here, let me help you." she said, as she pulled me up and made me stand by the wall. "There. Standing up again! Oh. Oh. Oh. Down we go again!" she laughed.

And down I went, a clumsy, diapered heap on the floor, and she broke, her laughter ringing through the room, a sharp yet strangely welcome sound. It had become almost comforting now, being laughed at. And that was the most depressing thing I knew.

*"Sorry, sorry for laughing," she said, wiping a tear from her eyes. "But it’s so cute how you wiggle those skinny arms trying to keep standing, only to fall down! I can't believe after four years with those giant diapers you still haven’t gotten used to it. You seem to have everything else here down pat, with your mummy and all!” She finished, laughing again.

I could only sit there, a pink bow perched ridiculously on my head, my mouth stuffed with a pacifier that offered no comfort. Then I looked down, the layers of diapers between my legs so overwhelming, I didn’t even know where to begin.

“Don’t worry, Jason, I’m only teasing,” she said softly, reaching out and patting my head. “It’s just…sometimes it’s so funny to watch. You look so cute in those diapers and ribbons. Do you remember how you use to hate it, and now? You’re just my big diaper boy?”

I stayed silent. Nothing to say. Then she smiled.

“Should I help you change that diaper?” she asked, her voice laced with an invitation I could not refuse, a challenge that had become my truth. “Or would you like to just lay there on the floor a bit longer?” she added.

I could only look at the floor. I would go with her, of course. She was always the one in control, and that wasn’t going to change. I just turned to face the wall, the way that I had come to accept my place. She would take it all from me. All of me. She won.

And that was my life now, a never ending cycle of padded humiliation and the knowledge that, somehow, I was actually enjoying this.

The afternoon had been a perfect blend of easy conversation and soft laughter. His place was comfortable, a haven of familiar furniture and shared jokes. Then the door opened, and everything shifted, the easy-going atmosphere replaced with a silent tension that made my heart pound. His mother, a woman I had only met briefly, walked in, carrying a package that shattered my sense of normalcy. A package of diapers. I froze, my mind reeling.

The moment that she was in the room, I felt my world turn upside down. Was she really holding a package of Pampers?

“Oh, you are still here?” She asked him, a question that cut through me, like I was a stranger. It was then, that my heart really skipped a beat.

My eyes flicked to the package, the brightly colored label a stark contrast to the seriousness of her expression. She looked at me, and her smile felt too sweet. Almost predatory. Then she looked at him. Then back to me.

"Oh, these are for my little son," she said, her gaze lingering on me, too long. "He needs them you know." She looked at me again, her eyes piercing my soul, as she walked into the kitchen, and put them down. Then she came back to us. “He has a little bit of a problem, but you will understand soon.” It was a clear threat.

Then it happened. She looked at him, and asked: "Show her" His face paled, then he sighed, and slowly lifted his t-shirt, to reveal the telltale bulge. A huge, padded diaper was beneath. My jaw dropped. What was going on?

"Oh yes, it does seem like he does. Please put this new package away, and show your friend what you have been hiding," She added, as if it was just a passing thought. It was always so calm with her. Too calm.

I watched as he shuffled off to what I now understood was a diaper storage room, and I watched as he started to place his diapers on the highest shelves, as if this was a normal occurrence. It was then that I knew, that I had stumbled into something far more complex, something I wasn't sure I understood. And then I just saw him, as he came back to me, and I knew that I had to change my view of him. He was something else. He was something more.

Check my actual social https://linktr.ee/Abobowec Tumblr, Telegram channel, + Other.🌞🌞🌞

James' heart pounded in his chest as he heard the doorbell ring. He glanced at his wife, Jessica, who wore a mischievous grin. "Remember, behave like a good little baby," she whispered, her voice dripping with seductive intent.

Jessica opened the door to reveal Jennifer, the 21-year-old babysitter they had hired for the night. She was a petite brunette with an innocent face, but her eyes held a glint of mischief that matched Jessica's.

"Hello, Jennifer," Jessica said, her voice taking on a motherly tone. "Thank you for coming on such short notice. Unfortunately little James here can’t be trusted to stay home alone."

Jennifer nodded, her eyes flicking to James, who was dressed in nothing but a diaper. His face burned with embarrassment, but his manhood stirred beneath the soft fabric.

"I understand," Jennifer said, her voice barely hiding a smirk. "I'll take good care of him."

Jessica leaned in, her lips brushing against Jennifer's ear. "He likes to be teased," she whispered, her voice low and sultry. "And he has a bit of a... wetting problem."

Jennifer's eyes widened, but she nodded, understanding the game. Jessica gave her a knowing smile before turning to James. "Be good for Jennifer, baby," she said, her voice dripping with mock concern.

As Jessica left, James felt a shiver of excitement run down his spine. He was alone with Jennifer, at her mercy. He could already feel the wetness spreading in his diaper, the humiliation and arousal mixing into a potent cocktail.

Jennifer led him to the nursery, her hand firm on his arm. "I could tell when I arrived you already need a fresh diaper, don’t you baby?” She pushed him onto the changing table, expertly unfastening the tapes of his soaking wet diaper and exposing his erect member.

“Someone's excited," Jennifer teased, her fingers brushing against his hard length. James moaned, his face burning with embarrassment. Jennifer chuckled, her fingers tracing lazy circles around his tip.

She cleaned him up, her touch gentle yet firm. Grabbing a fresh diaper from the drawer, she places it under his bum, liberally applying baby powder and securely fastening the tapes.

Jennifer admired her work and couldn’t help but notice how cute James looked in his babyish garment, it even said ‘Pampers’ along the front, just like a real baby diaper!

“Now, does baby want his bottle?" she asked, her voice dripping with fake innocence. James nodded, his face flushed with desire.

Jennifer prepared a bottle, her movements slow and deliberate. She sat down on the rocking chair, pulling James onto her lap. He took the bottle, his mouth closing around the nipple.

Jennifer's hand snaked into his diaper, her fingers wrapping around his hard length. James moaned, his body tensing as she began to stroke him. The sensation of her hand inside his diaper, the humiliation of being treated like a baby, it was all too much.

He came with a muffled groan, his body shaking with the force of his orgasm. Jennifer chuckled, her hand slowing to a stop. "Good baby," she cooed, her voice filled with satisfaction.

James lay in her arms, his body spent. He could feel his diaper growing heavy, the wetness spreading. He blushed, his heart pounding in his chest.

Jennifer stood up, carrying him to the crib. She laid him down, her fingers tucking him in. "Sleep tight, baby," she whispered, her voice filled with warmth.

As James drifted off to sleep, he could hear Jessica returning. He could hear their whispers, their laughter. He knew they were talking about him, about his little... accident.

He blushed, his body tensing at the thought. He was embarrassed, yes, but he was also excited. He couldn't wait for the next time.

Jessica entered the nursery, her eyes softening as she looked at James. She leaned down, her lips brushing against his ear. "You were a good baby tonight," she whispered, her voice filled with pride.

James blushed, his heart pounding in his chest. He knew he had pleased her, and that was all that mattered. He closed his eyes, drifting off to sleep with a smile on his face.

The next morning, James woke up to find Jennifer gone and Jessica standing over him. She was dressed in a silk robe, her hair tousled from sleep. "Did you have a good night, baby?" she asked, her voice filled with amusement.

James blushed, his body tensing at the memory. He nodded, his face burning with embarrassment. Jessica chuckled, her hand reaching out to stroke his cheek. "Good," she said, her voice filled with satisfaction. "Because we're doing it again next weekend."

James' heart pounded in his chest, his body already tensing with anticipation. He knew he was in for another night of humiliation and pleasure. And he couldn't wait.

“Oh, and Jennifer mentioned she might even bring a friend this time”

Awrrr…big bro is such a tease. 

Fortress of Solitude

Josh’s New Perspective

Josh had always felt weighed down by the expectations of adulthood. Living at home during university, his dad's constant nagging about getting a job only added to the pressure. When Mr. Carter offered him a babysitting job, Josh eagerly accepted, hoping it would ease some of the tension. However, he never imagined how much that job would change his life.

From the moment he arrived at Mr. Carter's secluded, two-story house on the edge of town, Josh could tell this wouldn’t be an ordinary job. Toys littered the yard, a black minivan sat in the driveway, and the house itself exuded a strange mix of family warmth and mystery.

When Mr. Carter, a tall man with a large beer belly, answered the door wearing only a strained shirt and tighty-whities, Josh had been caught off guard. Apologizing for arriving early, Josh was assured he was right on time. Mr. Carter rushed him inside and gave him a tour of the house.

The nursery upstairs was the biggest shock. It was outfitted like a toddler’s room, complete with a crib, changing table, and playpen. However, the occupant wasn’t a toddler—it was Max, Mr. Carter’s 20-year-old son. Max was “special,” as Mr. Carter explained, and still lived like a baby. Josh’s job was simple: care for Max, feed him, change him, and make sure he got to daycare safely.

When Max left for daycare that morning, Josh couldn’t stop thinking about him. Max’s carefree lifestyle, free of adult responsibilities, seemed almost enviable. Curiosity took hold, and Josh decided to explore the nursery. One thing led to another, and before long, Josh found himself wearing one of Max’s diapers and a truck-themed onesie.

What started as a moment of curiosity quickly turned into a full experience. Josh climbed into the oversized highchair, made himself some banana creamy porridge, and used a sippy cup he found in the cupboard. For the first time in years, Josh felt relaxed, unburdened by adult expectations.

That’s when Mr. Carter came home unexpectedly.

Catching Josh in the highchair, wearing baby clothes, was a moment of shock for both of them. Josh tried to explain, but Mr. Carter simply smiled. He reassured Josh that there was nothing to be ashamed of. In fact, he offered Josh the chance to live like Max whenever he was at the house.

Over the following weeks, Josh embraced his new role as Mr. Carter’s “baby boy.” He spent his time at the house dressed like Max, cared for by Mr. Carter, and free from the stresses of adult life. It was a strange but comforting arrangement that made Josh feel safe and loved.

One day, however, Mr. Carter decided it was time to involve Josh’s dad. When Josh’s dad arrived to pick him up, Mr. Carter sat him down and explained everything. At first, Josh’s dad was stunned, but as he listened, he began to understand.

“I had no idea Josh felt this way,” his dad admitted.

Mr. Carter smiled warmly. “Sometimes we all need a break. And I think you might benefit from this too.”

Josh’s dad raised an eyebrow, but before he could protest, Mr. Carter pulled out a spare diaper and onesie. By the end of the conversation, both Josh and his dad were dressed like babies, sharing the same carefree lifestyle.

From that day forward, Mr. Carter cared for them both, treating them with love and kindness. Josh and his dad discovered a new bond, free from the pressures of the outside world, as they embraced their shared journey of rediscovery and innocence.

The End.

You can cum in your diaper whenever you want, Daddy never stops you.

But every time you do...

🌧️ You lose a little bit of your continence. You'll need those diapers.

🙊 You lose one adult word from your vocabulary. Starting with "sex"

🍥 You lose independent thinking. you become dependent on Daddy.

Their little ones all respond differently to this new ... Condition:

🔐Some beg for chastity, As they lose more and more function, trying desperately to hold on to adulthood.

😵‍💫 Some are punished with orgasms, their caregivers make them more compliant with each spurt.

🫠 Some gladly seize the buzzy wand and melt their precious little brains.

The Bet Pt.5

After that, Riley told herself she was going to make an effort to put a stop to this before it got any worse. Unfortunately, she had no idea how to do that... As a youngest child, with no babysitting experience, she had no memories of helping potty train anyone, much less herself, and she wasn't about to check out any books about it and have those in her records, or let Charlotte see them around the house and know how much this bet had gotten to her. She found information online, of course, but it all contradicted each other, with everyone convinced they knew the best, most reliable way.

Meanwhile, it was becoming more and more rare for her to make it through that three hour class... Sometimes, she'd notice her need to go, and hold it as long as she could before wetting herself, and sometimes she'd notice herself feeling a little less comfortable, and adjust her position, only to feel the squish of an already sodden diaper.

The end of summer classes was a huge weight off of her shoulders, because during a regular semester, she had no classes that stretched on as long as that. Surely then, with more frequent breaks, and the return of more students to the campus, to make it harder for anyone to pinpoint the exact origin of the crinkling when she was in the bathrooms, she could turn this around, get it fixed before Charlotte figured out what was going on.

Her bladder was used to emptying at the same time in the morning, now, however, and, even though her class then wasn't nearly as long as the summer one, and she could use the bathroom beforehand, it somehow always felt the need to go again, seemingly as soon as the lecture began. At first, she'd, rather cockily, thought it would be a nice challenge, that, since she only had to last an hour, she would build her bladder muscles back up by making sure she lasted the whole period before going to the bathroom after. If she had one or two accidents the first few weeks, that was fine, but, by the end, she was positive she'd be dry every day.

She didn't succeed a single time. By the end of each class, her diaper was wet, whether she did it on purpose or not. Sometimes, it happened almost right away, and the rest of the period was spent with her wiggling in her desk, trying to figure out if she'd gone a second, or third time, if she was close to leaking. She not only failed her potty training goal, which she'd set for herself, she came close to failing the class itself, because it was so hard to concentrate on anything else.

There was no way Charlotte couldn't know what was happening, too... She had to notice Riley was going through significantly more diapers. It wasn't only that class Riley was using them in, of course, and it was happening more and more often, to the point where, like it or not, she had to start changing at school... She couldn't wait for her lunch break, when she could go back home, she had to hide in a bathroom stall until she was totally alone, then untape her diaper, clean herself up as quickly as she could, and tape a new one on before anyone overheard - it was far louder changing than just getting the diaper off to use the toilet - and pray she could dash to the trash can and get rid of the evidence before someone walked in and caught her.

She was slipping at home, too... Where, before, she'd only go if she was so busy she forgot she had a bathroom to herself, to not have to worry about any of that, now she was starting to have genuine accidents if she got too engrossed in TV, or homework, and not realize she'd gone until after the fact. It didn't help that their AC broke, and she spent what felt like an eternity walking around the place in only a shirt and diaper, too hot for any pants, or even a skirt, over it, before it was fixed. More than once, she'd discovered she'd peed herself by looking down and seeing a wet spot, rather than feeling it, or getting any real warning.

Even worse than that, however, were the mornings she woke up wet. The first time or two, she told herself she'd forgotten to change before getting into bed, but, eventually, when it started to happen even during naps, when she'd sprawl out on the sofa after classes, she knew she had to accept the truth: she was a bedwetter.

She wasn't sure why that hit her harder than her daytime accidents... Perhaps because she'd never been a bedwetter as a child, even had some memories of teasing other girls at sleepovers when she found out they were. Maybe it was because she was so sure, if she found the right trick, she could get her daytime wetting back under control, yet she knew bedwetting was far more difficult to cure, since she had no conscious power over it. Even if she discovered the perfect method for re-potty-training herself, she was probably going to be in diapers at night for a long time after this bet was over.

What Diaper Discipline elements do you want?

This list is to help you think about the elements of Diaper Discipline you want and can also be used by a partner to list elements they’re comfortable with.

Reblog with what you’d pick!

Let us know in comments if we’ve missed anything ❤️

Diaper Wearing:

Disposable Medical Diapers

Disposable ABDL Diapers

Pull Ups

Cloth Diapers

Diaper Usage:

Wetting

Messing

Frequency:

24/7

Forced Usage:

Bulk forming / Fibre

Suppositories

Oral Laxatives

Enemas

Castor Oil

Catheters

Locking Clothing / Pant

Hollow Butt Plugs

Anal Stretching

Toilet untraining

Checks & Changes:

Partner checks if you need changed exclusively (you can’t ask for changes)

Partner changes you into dry diapers

Partner changes wet diapers

Partner changes messy diaper

Partner does all changes (Not allowed to change yourself)

Partner changes in public (i.e. back of car / disabled washroom)

Adult Baby Clothing:

T-shirt and exposed Diaper

Plain Onesies

AB Onesies

AB Rompers

AB Footed Sleepers

AB Pyjamas

AB Play Clothes (Shortalls, Dresses, etc)

Spreader pants

Mittens

Booties

Bonnets

Adult Baby Accessories:

Pacifier

Bottle

Sippy Cup

Bib

Baby Blanket

Teddy

Chew Toys

Diaper changing bag

Adult Baby Furniture:

Changing Mat

Diapers on display

Changing Table

Crib

High Chair

Playpen

Bouncer

Public Wearing / Usage:

Wear diapers in public

Wet diapers in public

Mess diapers in public

Wear diapers around friends & family

Wet diapers around friends & family

Mess diapers around friends & family

Wear diapers at work

Wet diapers at work

Mess diapers at work

MDLB / DDLG Behaviours:

Being called Baby

Sweet talk (being talked to as if a small child/baby)

Must hold hand in public at all times

Calling partner Mummy/Daddy

Diaper pats

Helped to get dressed/undressed

Bottle feeding

Pretend breast feeding

Spoonfed adult food

Spoonfed baby food

Baby talk

Crawling

Bondage:

Locking Diaper Covers / Plastic Pants

Locking Mittens

Pacifier Gags

Bed Restraints

Straight Jackets

Full Fixation Restraints

Chastity:

Male chastity cage

Self-imposed chastity

Punishments for masturbating in diapers

Punishments:

Time-Outs

Denied/delayed diaper changes

Forced pacifier use

Chastity

Laxatives

Bottom stuffing with a butt plug

Restrained

Loss of adult privileges

Masturbation & Sex:

Vibrator though diaper

Butt plugs

Diaper humping

Prostrate massage (combined with Chastity device)

Pegging

Cuckolding

Sissy:

Pink AB Diapers

Girly AB Onesies

Female AB clothes (dresses, etc)

Full sissy attire

Fake breasts / bras

Makeup & painted nails

Exposure:

Private photo album

Anonymous social media account (faces hidden & identify keep secret)

Attending ABDL events

Visiting ABDL shopS

Public diaper exposure

Diaper tips and tricks for going out

A lot of u have been asking for some tips when going out diaperd and here are my tips for the winter season. This story is from my morning yesterday before going out in the snow.

After waking up and having changed my overnight diaper, which was wet, I grabbed a fresh diaper, it’s important to have thick diapers that both hold a lot and that are comfortable. I use booster pads inside, usually I place them well over my private area and almost as far back as my butthole. Then I place another one further back in order to prevent leaks.

Plastic pants are great to contain smell, and leaks should those happen. I tend to put on a onesie or leggings on over in order to stay comfy and have something that keeps the diaper snug and in place. When going out, it’s important to put on something that will keep you dry on over, recommend some snow pants or similar…

Thereafter you can go out and enjoy the day without having to worry, I went just around the block, pushed out a pretty big mess, sat down and slid down the hill, it was so much fun and everything was contained inside. FYI. You can head yourselves in the comments, in the wool leggings, is it the front or the back of my crotch? Hint hint, it’s wet…

Remote Diaper Care Protocol

Remote Diaper Care Protocol

To ensure that your charge continues to be under your strict diaper care, the following protocol will be followed.

Your charge will be supplied with ample amounts of wipes, baby powder, lotion and 3 premium plastic backed, taped, disposable diapers and 1 premium “extra absorbent” plastic backed, taped, disposable diaper (for bed-time) daily. Make stacks of these 4 diapers (with the bed-time diaper on the bottom) for each day that you will be away. So if you will be away for 9 days, you will have 9 stacks of 4 diapers. Starting with the first stack, write the number 1 on the crotch of each diaper using a permanent marker (like a sharpie), then for the second stack, write the number 2 on each one and so forth. This number represents the diapers that will be used on that day. Once that’s done, starting again with the first stack, number them from top to bottom from 1 to 4. Write a dash, then this number next to the stack number. This number represents the change number. So for the first 3 stacks, the numbers will be as follows:

Day 1 Day 2 Day 3 1-1 2-1 3-1 1-2 2-2 3-2 1-3 2-3 3-3 1-4 2-4 3-4

Once all the stacks have their day and change numbers written on them, lock away the sharpie and all other remaining diapers. It is important that your charge only have access to the diapers in the stacks and no others.

Your charge is to always use the diapers, never the toilet. To ensure that the toilet is not being used, dye the water in each toilet, then lock away the dye. If a toilet has been used, it should be obvious due to a dirty toilet or lack of dye in the water. To ensure that toilets are not being used, timestamped pictures can be demanded at any time.

Diaper changes will be done according to a strict schedule as follows:

Change 1 - 7AM - Before breakfast, change into the first diaper in stack for that day Change 2 - Noon - Before lunch, change into the second diaper in the stack for that day Change 3 - 5PM - Before dinner, change into the third diaper in the stack for that day Change 4 - 10PM - Before bed, change into the fourth (last) diaper in the stack for that day

On the even numbered days, the charge must take a bath, starting at 10PM and lasting no longer than 30 minutes. During this time, the charge must be thoroughly cleaned. The charge must be changed into the night time diaper by no later than 10:30PM on bath nights. 

Diaper changes should be done on a changing mat the floor (even if there is a changing table available) to ensure safety and proper fit (why a bed should not be used).  Outside of obligatory diaper changes, diapers are to be left alone to do their job; they are not to be touched, tampered with, pulled down, or reached inside of.  Hands off!

To ensure that the diaper changes are happening properly and in accordance to schedule, a timestamped picture of the crotch of the diaper, as it is being worn, immediately before and immediately after the change must be taken. The day and change numbers should match the changing schedule. Just before the diaper change, the charge must write a diaper content code using a different colored permanent marker in the crotch of the diaper near the day and change number, which is the sum of the substances in the following legend:

0 - clean and dry 1 - wet (pee) 2 - messy (poo) 4 - sexual fluids (cum)

For example, a pee (wet) and poo (messy) diaper will have the content code 3 and a pee and cummy diaper, 5. The numbers in the crotch of the diaper must be clearly visible in the 2 pictures taken at each diaper change. On bath night, the first picture is taken of the used diaper with it’s content code plainly visible right before the bath (10PM), then the second picture is taken of the fresh night time diaper right after it has been changed into (no later than 10:30PM).

To ensure the health of the charge, every diaper should be wet and at least one diaper should be messy each day. Appropriate “encouragements” should be offered to incentivize the good health of the charge when it becomes a concern.

Sexual fluids in a diaper rarely show up by accident and if excessive masterbation is a concern, arrange with the charge what diapers (if any) are permitted to contain sexual fluids. For example, cum is banned from being in all diapers other than in change 3 on odd days.

If the charge has work or other “out of home” obligations, the protocol should still be enforced. The noon diaper change, wipes and an opaque plastic bag can be placed into the lunch box of the charge for example. Before lunch time, the charge can take the lunch box in the bathroom, and in the (handicap) stall, snap the first picture, change, used diaper goes into the bag, snap the last picture, throw the bag into the trash on the way out, then proceed to the office kitchen to eat. The charge can be at work at 8AM to be home safe and sound for the 5PM change.

Remote Diaper Care is also an effective means of dissuading tardiness and encouraging good time management.

Rules For Littles In Diapers Or Pull-Ups

You are in diapers or pull-ups for a reason, but they are not interchangeable!  What are the expectations for littles?

Use your diapers (very) often, that’s what it’s they’re for and that’s why you’re in them!

Using your diaper (often) is totally okay, and is 100% expected that you do (you are not expected to ask if you need to use it, just use it).

It’s never an “accident” to use your diaper, but it’s an accident if your diaper leaks (your caregiver can decide if the accident is your fault and what (if any) corrective actions need to be taken).

If you hold it and then go all at once, you greatly increase chances for an accident, and having it be your fault.

You should be doing little tinkles in your diaper about every few minutes or so (you need to keep that bladder empty, and also make sure you hydrate).

If you have a caregiver, it is typical that you won’t even be allowed to touch, or change your diapers, or even ask for a diaper change (hopefully your caregiver is attentive and will be taking care of your diapers (and other needs) for you).

If you have a caregiver, you should cooperate fully with having your diaper checked, and having your diaper changed (if you don’t and your diaper leaks (which it will eventually), then it’s your fault and you will be in trouble).

If you’re in pull-ups, the rules are very different than when you’re in diapers, and you’ll need to be more disciplined or face discipline!

Your pull-up is like protective underwear (trainers) and is there “just in case”.

You are expected to try to keep your pull-ups clean and dry, unless you ask your caregiver and they say its okay for you to use it (like if you’re stuck in traffic, or at a concert or movie, or having tummy troubles and can’t make it to a potty in time)

Unlike diapers, going potty in your pull-ups is an accident and might get you in trouble (like getting spanked and put back in diapers until further notice).

You won’t be allowed to take your pull-up off, unless your caregiver says its okay, but you will probably be allowed to pull them down to go potty in the toilet and pull them back up when you’re done.

Pull-ups are way more likely to leak than diapers.  Having an accident in your pull-up and having it leak could mean double-trouble for you (and your rear-end).

Having to change your used pull-up will not be popular with your caregiver because some of your clothes might need to be taken off completely before you can be cleaned up and and get put into a fresh pull-up.  Keep in mind, that it might be easier for the caregiver to rip the pull-up off, give you a (deserved) spanking, then tape you into a fresh diaper, then to take your clothes off.

If the additional expectations are causing stress, it might be a really good idea to very sweetly ask your caregiver to put you back in diapers instead of using your pull-ups and getting in trouble. Long car rides, air travel, movies, concerts, vacations (Disney!), afternoon naps, sleeping, sicknesses (tummy troubles!), and getting over stressful times, are some very common (and good) reasons for being put back in diapers.

I expect better behavior now that it’s clear what the rules are!

In the quiet confines of my dimly lit apartment, I stood before the mirror, my reflection a distorted echo of the man I had become. The image staring back at me was not my own but that of Vaughn, my coworker, whose physique and life I had coveted with a burning envy.

The opportunity to enact my plan came unexpectedly one Friday evening after work. Vaughn was in the office gym, his usual post-work routine of lifting weights and showcasing his physique. I had prepared the serum in a small syringe hidden in my gym bag. As he finished his set and was stretching, I approached him with a friendly smile, holding a protein shake in one hand.

"Hey Vaughn, I made this new protein shake recipe. Want to try it out? I think you'll love the results," I offered, feigning camaraderie. He looked at me, a bit surprised but intrigued, and nodded. As he took the shake from my hand, I quickly moved behind him, pretending to adjust the weights. In one swift motion, I plunged the needle into the side of his neck, the serum entering his bloodstream before he could react.

Vaughn's eyes widened in shock, his hand reaching for his neck, but it was too late. The serum worked fast, his body beginning to tremble as I stepped back, watching the process unfold. "Sorry, Vaughn," I whispered, "but I need this more than you do."

His body started to deflate, the muscles losing their definition as if the air was being let out of a balloon. His skin sagged, becoming loose and pliable, his once proud physique collapsing in on itself. Within minutes, what stood before me was not the muscular, confident Vaughn, but a hollow shell of his former self, his skin now a suit ready to be worn.

With a mixture of awe and excitement, I approached the deflated form. Carefully, I began the process of donning his skin. I started with his feet, sliding my own into the empty space, feeling the warmth of his skin enveloping mine. I worked my way up, pulling the skin over my legs, feeling the strength of his muscles now mine as I adjusted them to fit perfectly. His torso was next, the sensation of his abs and chest wrapping around me was surreal, a perfect fit as if tailored for me.

As I reached his face, I paused, looking into the empty eyes of what was once Vaughn. "I had no idea what package you were hiding under those pants." I said to the empty shell, a smirk playing on my lips. I pulled the skin over my head, adjusting it around my features until I was looking through his eyes, feeling his beard on my chin.

Finally, I stood fully transformed, adjusting to the new muscles, the new face. "But now, it's mine. All of it. Your strength, your charm, and yes, even this body," I continued, speaking to my reflection as if he could hear me.

I ran my hands down the toned abs, feeling the power that now belonged to me. The thought of what I could do with this new identity was intoxicating. "Imagine the possibilities," I mused, my voice still adjusting to the deeper timbre of Vaughn's. "An account on TikTok? Nah, too mainstream. Instagram? Overdone. But an account on... Onlyfans?" A wicked grin spread across my stolen face.

The idea thrilled me. Vaughn had a following, built from his gym posts, his lifestyle shots, always tastefully done, always leaving people wanting more. But now, I could take it further, push the boundaries, explore the depths of this new persona. I'd document the journey, the transformation, the life I had stolen.

I felt a rush of excitement as I thought about the content I could create, the allure of this new skin I wore. "You would've never thought about doing this, Vaughn," I said, almost apologetically to the reflection. "But I will. I'll make this life something extraordinary, something that will make them all jealous."

In my new voice, with my new body, I began to plan. The mirror reflected my ambition, my new identity, and the life I was about to live. Vaughn was gone, and in his place stood someone new, someone ready to take the world by storm, one subscriber at a time.

And as I stepped away from the mirror, I felt no remorse, only anticipation for what was to come. "Welcome to your new life, Vaughn," I whispered, knowing full well that it was now mine.

Upstate NY near Syracuse

Here we go again🥺😩...

Because January wasn't already hectic and stressful enough with the holidays and losing my Little, why not just make me lose my Tumblr too?

Life has a wonderful way of kicking you while you're down.

Anyway, I guess this is the new Account now. Go ahead and follow this other account as a backup to the backup of the backup:

@suprememommytaylor @strictmommykeyy

Make sure you follow me on other account so it's easier to get the word out when this inevitably happens again.

@suprememommytaylor

Please boost and share this post so we can get back to starting from scratch...again...

(Really getting sick of this shit, for real.)

Love you guys.

Es geht wieder los 😩😰...

Da der Januar mit den Feiertagen und dem Verlust meines Kleinen nicht schon hektisch und stressig genug war, warum nicht einfach auch dafür sorgen, dass ich meinen Tumblr verliere?

Das Leben hat eine wunderbare Art, dich zu treten, während du am Boden bist.

Wie auch immer, ich vermute, dass dies jetzt das neue Konto ist. Fahren Sie fort und folgen Sie diesem anderen Konto als Backup zur Sicherung des Backups:

@suprememommytaylor @strictmommykeyy

Stellen Sie sicher, dass Sie mir auf anderen Konten folgen, damit Sie es leichter verbreiten können, wenn so etwas unweigerlich erneut passiert.

@suprememommytaylor @strictmommykeyy

Bitte boosten und teilen Sie diesen Beitrag, damit wir wieder von vorne beginnen können ... wieder ... (Ich habe diesen Scheiß wirklich satt, wirklich.)

Ich liebe euch.

Like 👍 Reblog ♻️ Comment💭 your Location to find mommy and ab/dl little in your location in your location

===========================

Gefällt mir 👍 Reblog ♻️ Kommentieren💭 Sie Ihren Standort, um Mami und Ab/DL baby an Ihrem Standort an Ihrem Standort zu finden

New York

Helping out Littles everywhere!!!

Post which state you live in. Help somebody make a friend.

I’ll start, I’m in Maryland.

Are there any ABDL mommies in upstate ny?

Helpless in diapers

The first thing he noticed was that he couldn’t move.

And then he heard his boyfriend's voice.

“Does this feel familiar?” he taunted.

He tried to speak up, but all that escaped was drool and a garbled noise.

“Aww poor baby, you can’t speak, can you?” His boyfriend's voice was laced with sweetness. But he was feeling anything but sweet at this moment.

He had made a critical error in his thinking. Just the other night his boyfriend had asked him if he had any kinks and he’d said no, deciding now was not the time to reveal his diaper fetish. He was scared that he’d recoil, move backwards or even break up with him.

But it turns out he had asked him because he knew.  

he knew he wanted to be a helpless drooling baby. Wanted to become his plaything. Forced to sit in his bulging diaper until “daddy” came to change him.

“I guess you didn’t think I’d find out did you?” he sat on the bed next to him and patted the front of his bulging diaper. Strangely enough, he hadn’t remembered wetting it. But then he explained it to him.

“Last night I put a pill in your post workout shake. It reduces your body to that of an infant. No control over your legs, arms, anything really.” he continued to pat the front his heavy diaper as he tried to sit up, get any motion in his arms and legs. “The pill lasts 24 hours. And then all function returns. Oh and you can forget about bowel and bladder control.” he giggled.

“When I found out you wanted to be daddies helpless drooling baby, I decided to help you along for a bit. Now you can see what it’s really like.”

He tried to speak. Tried to tell him that this isn’t what he wanted. That it was only a game, a fetish. Something to do for fun. But he couldn’t speak, only drool escaped his mouth.

“Because you wanted this so badly, I put three pills in your drink, so that should give you about three days of fun baby time. Don’t worry, I know this weekend you wanted to hang out with the guys, but I know you’d much rather be doing this instead. So just lie there, I’ll bring you a new bottle every hour. Who knows.” he said grinning before shutting the door. “There might be another pill in there at the end of the weekend. I might want you to be my baby forever…”

The door shut and he gurgled some more. He was trapped…