Wheres His Diaper And Daddy?

Fortress of Solitude

My ideal campout would consist of me hoping in my daddy/mommies car and them driving us to the park to diaper me and then put me back in the car in my car seat. We than drive a multi hour trip to a camp in a different state so I'm not recognized and we can enjoy our campout as an adult baby family

[id: a light blue userbox with a pastel blue border, and pastel blue text that reads “this user loves things intended for babies & children.” on the left is an image of a baby bear calico critter. /end id]

Can a daddy do this to me?

Just a Little Longer

“Alright,” she said to herself.  “You can do this.”  However, she wasn’t very sure of herself while saying that.

It shouldn’t have been that hard, really.  For 23 years now, she had managed to make it to the bathroom on time without fail, give or take two or three of those early years that she couldn’t remember very well.  So why was it that she was so uncertain of herself now?

The answer was the very thick diaper between her legs.  She wasn’t positive, but she was pretty sure he had put her in at least two or three at once.  She could barely squeeze her legs together, and she didn’t walk so much as she waddled about.  It hadn’t even made sense to put pants on…she wagered she wouldn’t even be able to get them on over her diaper anyways.

Still, she had been given some very direct orders:  “Prove to me that you’re a big girl and that you don’t need these, and maybe your punishment will end sooner than later.”

Keep reading

9 ingredients for taming your slave, results guaranteed…

1. CHASTITY

Lock its genitals in order to restrict access. Make sure it is chaste most of the time, free only in your presence from time to time. This way, its body parts become your property and it is unable to play with itself, which ALL men do.

2. INSPECTIONS

This might seem like unnecessary play only but it is not. It send a strong impulse to its mind about who is in charge and has unlimited freedom. Do it on regular basis.

3. ROUTINES

Routines are very important, any kind of routine. To begin with, decide upon a daily routine with which it will show its respect and humility to you. Make sure there will be no skipping on routines.

4. DISCIPLINE

This is a complete must, done on daily basis. Discipline is the most essential ingredient. It doesn’t need to “deserve it”, it is simply necessary. Find the time and the will every day.

5. TEASE, EDGING, DENIAL

Having and keeping its balls full will ensure its full attention towards you. It will make it beg and it will make it soft on its mind. Have you tried it for hours? No? Try it. Bigger balls equals more obedience and willingness to do anything for you.

6. RUINED ORGASMS

Your slave needs to cum and it will do anything to cum. You will allow it to cum on occasion but you will also slowly take away its right to have that pleasure. Ruin iits orgasms often and make it thank you. In time you could easily have it pleasure-less and without actual orgasms, up to you. Remember, an orgasm is not a right, it is a health necessity. It is not a reward either. Yours are important and only orgasms that should be cherished.

7. HUMILIATION

As bad as this might sound, subtle ways of humiliation are extremely effective. It needs it, it wants it. Do it. Find ways, decide up on them and act upon them. Humiliation makes it more humble. Then humiliate some more, subtly.

8. USE IT, MAKE IT FEEL USED

slaves like being treated like objects or toys. So that’s just what you need to do, use it for your pleasure and needs and then simply discard it. It’s a play, nothing more but it works just fine. Make sure you train yourself for such acts properly, in order not to appear silly.

9. EMASCULATION & PEGGING

Chastising your slave is the begging of emasculation. Pegging is another great way to emasculate. Make it your bitch, bring out its feminine side. Bringing out its feminine side works beautifully in favor of emasculation. Emasculation kills the ego every man has. Ego is an absolute enemy. 

BBC rules

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.

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.

Jock'd

(All characters are 18+)

Cameron Hayes was a high school senior with two things that defined him: his love for biology and his passion for nerdy hobbies. He’d always been the type of kid who spent his afternoons reading biology textbooks, obsessing over cellular processes, and analyzing ecosystems. At 18, he was already planning to study biology at a prestigious university, and his life revolved around his love for science. But that was before one fateful night.

It all started when Cameron sat down to finish his biology homework, which was supposed to be a simple review of basic human physiology. As usual, he’d spent hours studying the material the day before, and now it was just a matter of getting the homework done before bed. His room, decorated with posters of scientific breakthroughs and his collection of rare fossils, felt like his sanctuary.

On his desk lay his open notebook, the textbook, and his phone, all with the soft hum of a lamp glowing beside him. He breezed through the first few questions—simple stuff. His mind, sharp as ever, was in its element. But then came the last question. It looked innocent enough:

"What's one form of exercise?"

Cameron didn't hesitate. He wrote down the first thing that came to mind: "Sports."

It was supposed to be a harmless answer. After all, sports were a form of exercise, right?

But the moment he finished writing, something strange happened. His head buzzed, his vision blurred, and an icy chill ran down his spine. He blinked hard, thinking maybe he was just overtired, but something was different. He felt... strange. His body seemed to tingle, like every cell was reconfiguring. He swore he heard faint laughter echoing in the air, distant, but unmistakably mocking.

Before he could even process it, his room began to warp. The walls seemed to contract, the posters of atoms and molecules turning into athletic ones, with images of football players, basketball courts, and weightlifters replacing his beloved scientific displays. A strange heat spread through his body, like he was suddenly in the middle of a workout.

His body itself was changing. His arms grew thicker, more muscular, his once slender frame becoming broader and stronger. His clothes seemed to shrink as his muscles swelled, his jeans tightening around his quads and his shirt clinging to his newly developed pecs. His hair, once a soft brown that barely fell past his ears, now grew short and spiky, and his face changed too—more defined, sharper, with a hint of arrogance.

He stumbled in front of his mirror, his heart racing in confusion. The boy looking back at him wasn’t Cameron Hayes. The reflection was of someone else—tall, strong, and undeniably attractive. His face had lost its nerdy softness, replaced by a chiseled jawline and a confident smirk that Cameron had never worn before. And most bewildering of all: the name that he now saw written on the mirror was no longer "Cameron."

It was "Kyle."

A surge of memories flooded his mind—new ones that didn’t belong to him. He remembered his high school’s football team, the parties, the beer, the girls that surrounded him, and the constant urge to be the center of attention. His brain, once filled with complex scientific concepts, now held only simple things like winning games, lifting weights, and picking up chicks. He felt... dumb.

Cameron—no, Kyle—gazed in horror at his transformation. The old him, the geeky, intelligent Cameron, felt like a distant memory, lost in the haze of his new identity. His brain just didn’t care about science or biology anymore. What mattered now was sports, looking good, and impressing people.

As he stood there, confused yet strangely satisfied by his new reflection, his phone buzzed. It was a message from one of the jocks, no doubt someone who’d gotten a laugh out of this transformation. He read it:

"Bro, you look SO ready for the football game tomorrow. Don’t worry, we’ll show you how to throw a perfect spiral."

The words didn’t even faze him. Kyle just grinned, his mind only focused on the idea of tomorrow’s game. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d cared about homework. Hell, he didn’t even want to know anything about biology anymore. All he wanted was to hang out with his jock friends, hit the gym, and be the life of the party.

As he grabbed a basketball from his new collection of sporty gear, Kyle felt a surge of energy course through him. His muscles flexed, his chest puffed out proudly, and his confidence was sky-high.

He didn’t need to worry about anything anymore—no homework, no classes, no biology notes. His new life was all about being the king of the school, playing sports, and dating hot girls. And he loved it.

When Kyle walked into school the next day, every head turned. His former friends—quiet, bookish kids—now seemed like distant strangers. They watched in awe and confusion as Kyle swaggered down the hallway, laughing with his fellow jocks and getting high-fives from everyone he passed. He didn’t even remember his old friends' names, nor did he care. They weren’t part of his new world.

The old Cameron was gone, replaced by Kyle the jock, and that was just fine with him. There was no turning back now.

By the time Kyle walked through the halls of his high school the next day, he felt completely at home in his new skin. The sensation of power, of confidence, was intoxicating. Every step he took, he felt more sure of himself, more right in this new role. The people he passed seemed to admire him, their eyes following him as he swaggered down the hallway.

As he approached his first class, he bumped into Madison, the most popular girl in school. With her long blonde hair, perfect smile, and reputation for dating only the top athletes, Madison was everything Cameron had once admired from a distance. Now, she was smiling at him, and her eyes had a sparkle that made Kyle feel like he was on top of the world.

"Hey, Kyle," Madison said, her voice low and flirtatious. "I saw you at the gym yesterday. You’re looking even bigger than last week."

Kyle grinned, puffing out his chest a little. "Yeah, just trying to stay ahead of the game, you know? Got to keep the muscles strong if I want to keep winning."

Madison giggled, her hand brushing his arm as if she was already claiming him. "I like a guy who works hard," she said, clearly impressed by his new look—and more so by his jock swagger.

Kyle’s new brain buzzed with excitement, and he leaned in a little, his voice oozing confidence as he responded, "Well, I don’t just work hard, babe, I dominate."

It felt so natural. Too natural.

Madison laughed again, this time a little more flirtatiously, and Kyle felt the old Cameron—deep down, in the quiet corners of his mind—shudder. But he didn’t care. He was Kyle now.

The bell rang, and as they made their way to class, Madison slid her arm through his, leaning in close to him as they walked. Kyle smiled smugly, enjoying the attention, enjoying the way people looked at them with envy.

Later that afternoon, Kyle met up with his jock buddies in the cafeteria, his tray piled high with a ridiculous amount of food. They were already at their usual table, laughing and tossing around their footballs. Kyle was one of the guys now, and it felt like he was finally where he belonged.

"Yo, Kyle!" Tom, the quarterback, shouted when Kyle walked up, slapping him on the back. "Madison was totally checking you out, man. You’ve got her hooked. She was practically drooling over you."

Kyle chuckled, running a hand through his freshly spiked hair. "Yeah, she’s been eyeing me for a while. What can I say? I’m irresistible."

His friends all laughed in agreement, nodding enthusiastically.

"Dude, you’ve got everything," another guy, Mike, added. "The muscles, the looks, the girls. Seriously, it’s like you were born to be a jock."

Kyle threw his head back, laughing, and for a moment, he actually felt like he was on top of the world. "Hell yeah, man. That’s because I don’t waste time on stupid stuff. I’ve got priorities, you know?"

The guys nodded in agreement, each of them trying to one-up each other with stories of parties, girls, and who’d bench-pressed the most at the gym.

Kyle’s new personality had already become a perfect fit for this crowd. He found himself throwing out one-liners about how much he hated studying, mocking anyone who wasn’t in sports, and bragging about how he could easily pick up a girl just by showing off his abs.

The old Cameron—the one who loved discussing the complexities of plant biology and how to identify different species of insects—seemed like a memory from a distant life. Now, he was the guy cracking jokes about how much homework he’d skipped or how much he could drink without puking.

And as the conversation shifted to tonight’s football game, Kyle grinned even wider. This was it. The peak of high school glory.

"After we crush these guys on the field, we’re gonna hit up Joey’s party," Kyle said with a smirk. "You know, get some drinks, talk to some babes. Maybe even let them take a selfie with me."

The guys laughed and cheered, high-fiving each other. They didn’t even seem to care that the game wasn’t for a few hours. They were all already living for the after-party, and that was enough.

And then, as if on cue, Madison showed up, leaning in from behind and slipping her arm around his waist. "Hey, Kyle," she purred, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Ready for tonight? You can show me how many push-ups you can do with me on top of you."

The table erupted in hoots and laughs, and Kyle felt an unfamiliar sense of pride flood him. Madison was his. She was smiling at him, wanting him, and all of his jock friends were jealous.

"Yeah," Kyle replied coolly, "I think tonight’s gonna be a good night."

And just like that, he realized: he didn’t care anymore. The old Cameron, the one who loved biology and was obsessed with books, was a distant, pointless memory. What mattered now was sports, muscles, parties, and making everyone around him know that he was the king of this school.

As Madison kissed him on the cheek, her fingers tracing his abs, Kyle couldn’t help but smirk. This was the life. And there was no going back. Not that he wanted to.