NOTE: This Little Story Features Forced Mental Regression, Unethical Behavior, And Dubious Consent, All

To continue the reblog series on kinky stuff I am into: Hypnotic Conditioning.

There are so many hypnosis tracks out there catering to almost every kinky fantasy you can wish for. Especially in the context of ABDL lifestyle, hypnotic conditioning may be used as additional means to help you fill out your role. While some files aim to make you adopt more babylike behavior, others assist with with diaper training and the pursuit of actual diaper dependence. Even, if it does not work as intended, the mere possibility of it to actually have an effect on you, is very exciting. And if it does work, well you are meant to become a baby anyway…

If you are also into regression by means of hypnotic conditioning, reblog this post and share it with the world.

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."

He doesn't let fags anywhere near His cock. He has plenty of chicks to take care of that. but He finds it funny to watch a pathetic queer loser slobber all over His feet after He's been walking around barefoot all day.

He’s even got the neighbors 23 year old son checking in with Him through text message several times a day to make sure His feet are clean enough. He usually just ignores the text, only responding when His feet are truly filthy; and in those instances the fag rushes over eagerly to devour the filth from the bottoms of His massive feet.

It all started as a joke. The little fag couldn’t stop staring whenever He’d kick His feet up on the porch, and the Man was starting to notice it. After noticing the fag’s staring a few times, the Man called out jokingly one tipsy night “why don’t you come over here and kiss them since you’re so captivated by them”

And the rest was history. He knew He had the bitch by the balls when he first walked up the stairs and leaned in to kiss His big, stinking feet. It wasn’t sexual for Him, but He did enjoy it in a non sexual way. Once the Man had the fag’s brain hooked on His feet, He ordered a small, cheap chastity belt off the internet and demanded the bitch put it on if he wanted to continue being allowed to worship. The fag, desperate to secure his place at His addicting feet, put it on without a second thought, and the Man kept the keys.

He never really told the fag, but He had absolutely zero intention of ever letting him free from his metal cage. It was so effortless, stealing the young fag’s sexuality from him at age 18, and then constantly dangling His feet in his helpless face. The bitch had asked a few different times to have it taken off, if only for 10 minutes, but the Man insisted that if He took it off He would have to move away and never let the fag see His feet again. He had complete control of his mind, making him stay at home living with his parents where it’s cheaper so that he could send more of his paycheck to Him. The fag lived on a very strict budget, ensuring that he could send as much money as possible to the Man next door who kept a close eye on his finances. It was the perfect win- extra money for doing nothing, the thrill of controlling another man, and there was something particularly amusing about watching his eyes glaze over whenever he would lick His feet. It was the only ‘sex’ the fag would ever know, and boy did he enjoy it!

The Man knew he would own this faggot for as long as He wanted to, and his parents didn’t seem to mind him living at home, so there was no foreseeable obstacle anywhere in the future. The Man smirked when His phone lit up beside Him on the table. “New Message from Forever Virgin”

‘Sir, may I please offer my cleaning services to You and Your perfect Feet?’ He clicked the reply button and lit up a joint, eagerly waiting for the sick little fuck to come in and serve his filthy purpose at the bottoms of His cruel and taunting feet.

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

But where are there diapers!?

This is the difference between a boy who’s accepted his reality and a boy who’s still holding out hope it’s a phase. It’s not. Accept yourself. Dress appropriately. Find yourself a real man and serve.

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.

Reblog! I won't tell your secret... 😈

Found this vid at some point, and it inspired the below short story, i hope you enjoy. if this is your vid and you want me to remove it (or credit you), please let me know.

——————–

I sat with my friends at the table in their home, we planned going out to a party in the evening together, hiving a coffee and talking. As so many times we talked about bondage, the fun we have with different guys in different situations. i liked everything lockable, it is more definite, harder if at all possible to get out, while they enjoyed anything that restrains, one of them especially does enjoy mummification with duct tape.

i mentioned that tape has its charm, but is just too easy to break, it may take effort, but one always finds a way to rip it nevertheless. they did not agree, done well, done right, using proper duct tape and not cheap packing tape, they insisted it can be just as inescapable. since i refused to agree however, they dared me to give it a try.

we still had a few hours before going to the party and they agreed that it would not be a full mummification with layers, but just tape to gag me, tie my arms and legs, and then i could proof them wrong. no way i skip a dare, regardless of what it will end up with (big flaw of myself), so of course i agreed to it.

Keep reading