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Padded Little Prince

I am Plippingsly von Plipperson, but please call me Plip. ABDL/MDLB, male, Little, bicurious?, sometimes I'm a sissy. I am looking for a Mommy, or a Daddy, anyone to boss me around and love on me really. I would love to talk to you about anything, just know that I tend get real blushy and flustered if I am being Little! Doesn't mean I don't want to talk to you, quite the opposite. Thanks! 18 plus, for real.

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    crinklesandcuriosity:

    skyem:

    crinklesandcuriosity:

    crinklesandcuriosity:

    In the mood to sit in mommy’s lap while she slowly rubs the front of my wet diaper and whispers blushy, embarrassing, and humiliating things in my ear…

    “Aww, sweetie, why is your diaper soaked? Did you have a little accident? It’s ok, baby, little boys have accidents sometimes. That’s why mommy keeps you in thick, crinkly diapers.”

    “Are you even trying to use the potty? Or are you using your diapers on purpose? It doesn’t seem to mommy that you’re trying. I think you’re pretending to have accidents because you secretly like it when I force you into thick crinkly diapers.”

    “You like wearing diapers and being mommy’s little baby, don’t you? I think you wish I would keep you in thick diapers forever. Isn’t that what you want?”

    “What’s this I feel in your diaper, little one? Are you sure you don’t like this, baby? Because it sure feels like someone is a naughty boy who’s turned on by wearing thick wet diapers.”

    “If you want mommy to keep rubbing your diaper, you better tell me how much you like being mommy’s little diaper-wearing baby. Go on, tell mommy how much you love being my little baby boy.”

    “Aww, you’re so cute when you’re all embarrassed and turned on. I think I’m gonna keep you in thick diapers forever, baby. You’re gonna be my little baby boy forever. No more big boy clothes or underwear, only thick, thirsty, crinkly diapers. Mommy likes you just like this.”

    I want my daddy to do this to me! (but with girl stuff and I don’t know if I’m wet yet I hope I’m dry)

    Ooo, I like that, too. 😍😍😍

    “What do you mean, ‘I don’t know’, sweetie? Are you that much of a baby you can’t even tell whether your diaper is wet or not? Do I have to start checking you for accidents, little one? Is that what you want, baby?”

    “Well, if you can’t come and tell me when you have an accident, I guess we’ll just have to stop putting pants on you, make it easier to check and see whether you’ve had a little accident.”

    “It’s not embarrassing at all, little one! Babies don’t need pants because everyone knows they wear diapers. And only babies are too little to know when they need their diapers changed. I guess that means you must be a little baby, doesn’t it?”

    motherspissyone:

    This is Mommy’s other big baby. He is under my total control with diaper sensor, chastity device, and yes nursery cam. He’s a very cooperative little boy indeed that Mommy has in strick diaper training. He never knows when I’m watching him. So what makes this so unique is I can see remotely every time he wets himself or changes himself both at home and at work. Plus with the added oversight of nursery camera I am able to make sure he’s in bed at the prescribed time. Mommy even has his chastity key locked up in a “kitchen safe”.

    Drinking from bottles is easy just tell my big baby to do it and he does it. Failure to comply results in longer duration of lock down in his cage. It’s amazing how well little boys behave when they can’t touch their play toy.

    Here’s one more cute picture of little boy rolling around in his pampers. He’s going to be surprised when he finds himself posted on Tumblr. Mommy has many devious ways to ensure little boys do what they’re told. Just like Pissy, he’s learning quickly that to not obey Mommy has harsh consequences. Mommy

    iamnotyourprince:

    PURPLE: We near never speak, but I do enjoy your presence on my dashboard.
    FUCHSIA: I wish I could become your best friend through the internet.
    GREY: You leave me with jumbled words.
    RED: I’m in love with you.
    PINK: I have a crush on you.
    TURQUOISE: You’re hot.
    CHARTREUSE: I sincerely wish you would notice me.
    TEAL: We have quite a lot in common.
    BLUE: You are my Tumblr crush.
    ORANGE: I dislike your page.
    YELLOW: PLEASE FUCK ME.
    WHITE: PLEASE MARRY ME.
    GREEN: I find you cute.
    BLACK: I would date you.
    BROWN: I dislike you.

    paddedlittleparadise:

    misguidedbrat:

    This is dedicated to and inspired by a wonderful person I’ve been talking to. You know who you are :)

    It was a week since my last extremely shameful episode where mummy had tricked me into a horrible situation which had led to my continued regression, shame and general abjection.

    Mummy had once been my girlfriend, though she soon took on a domineering role in our relationship. For my part this felt perfectly natural. I’d been a submissive since I could remember and it felt as though this wonderful, beautiful woman was slowly prodding me deeper and deeper down into the recesses of my shame, pushing me to a point where the only light to look back upon was her face, smiling through the rails of my crib as she lovingly toyed with my diminishing subjectivity.

    This morning mummy had strapped me into my highchair. I was wearing my damp night time nappies and a pretty little puff sleeved top which came down to my midriff. I sat there, feeling the tension of the crotch strap and the restraints on my wrists. Mummy had made herself a delicious breakfast. The smell of hot freshly ground coffee sent me into torturous nostalgic longing - I’d been denied grownup drinks long ago. Mummy ate at a leisurely pace, in full knowledge of my hunger and jealousy. She had set up our lives so that mine was one of total subjugation and hers one of absolute freedom. She made sure I saw her enjoying and enacting her own liberty whilst confining and erasing my own.

    When she finally finished her meal she went over to the work surface and mixed my usual bowl of oatmeal. This time however I noticed that she was pouring the bowl into the blender. She then added a huge handful of spinach and a drop of castor oil before whizzing it up. The bowl she set before me was a deep green slop. “This is to keep my little treasure healthy.” she explained. I groaned inwardly and feebly tested my restraints as she tied a bib around my neck, waiting expectantly for her to come to the front of my highchair with a spoon. Instead she turned her back and began to fill the dishwasher. “Will you feed me mummy?” It may seem strange that I would ask to be fed but believe me the alternative was more embarrassing. On the days she didn’t feed me I was expected to eat with my fingers which always resulted in a abject mess of base infantilism. I sighed and then asked the question I knew was required of me: “Can I feed myself mummy?”
    “Of course you can my little potty panties princess! Just like a big girl!” She undid my left wrist restraint (I am right handed) and I began to eat. Soon my face, bib, hand and the tray were covered in slop. I knew I had to eat the whole thing. It didn’t taste as bad as I’d feared though it had a slightly bitter edge, but the spectacle I made of myself as I ate made me blush down to my bones. When I had finished I sat waiting in my highchair and to my further shame could hold onto my full bladder no longer; I began to soak my nappies. They crinkled softly and mummy came round to the front of my highchair and looked deep into my eyes as she rested her hand on my crotch. “Aww. Is little Lottie going wee wee? What a naughty little girl. I wonder if I’ll ever have you out of nappies…”

    It took her several minutes to clean me up before she handed my a large sippy cup of apple juice. “I think I’m going to move you onto bottle feeding soon little one. It’s clear you’re not ready to grow up. I was thinking that sooner or later I could start treating you like a four year old but judging by your progress I think maybe we should move back a stage. I think two might be a better age for you.”


    I lay on my pale pink changing mat on the nursery floor as mummy powered and lotioned me. She cooed and gently teased my obvious arousal. She’d removed my chastity device for a few days as part of an experiment which she elucidated to me as a technique of greater frustration and control, leaving the gates of possibility and temptation constantly open to me whilst maintaining near constant supervision and fear of being caught. She knew full well that I was constantly aroused and the thick soft nappies I was in didn’t help matters. My nursery was now rigged with both video and audio baby monitors and I never knew when I was being watched.  I had no privacy whatsoever. On the other hand mummy was now allowing me some sexual pleasures though only as and when she chose them, and often the payoff was so shameful in itself I began to question whether it was worth my while. My mind flashed back to a particularly excruciating occasion where mummy had me rocking in my little rocking horse faster and faster to the point of climax before abruptly stopping me and making me beg to continue “baby’s horsey ride”. The whole sorry episode had been immortalised on her video camera and played back to me in my crib afterwards. 

    “Mummy, those are nighttime nappies!” I protested as I watched her unfold one of the much thicker pink nappies she put me in at bedtime. “I know sweetheart but I think these are far prettier, and don’t you forget what you are, hmm?” I paused a moment before lisping the expected mantra “I am mummy’s baby doll. I wear what mummy tells me to”

    “Good girl!” She put my dummy in my mouth and soon the thick nappy was taped up. She selected a short flouncy toddler dress in light pastel green for me today. The hem was short enough that my big thick nappies would be visible almost all of the time. The little puff sleeves gave it a particularly infantile appearance. All the same deep down I loved being mummy’s little princess. She delighted in dressing me up and I knew it made her so happy. With a pair of white knee socks and my hair plaited into pretty pigtails I was dressed for the day.

    Mummy twirled me round and I landed in her lap. One hand cradled my head to her breast whilst the other squished my nappies. I squealed in delight savouring her firm gentleness. In this moment I really was her little doll, her plaything - in rapture and without agency. She played with me in her lap for several minutes and I delighted at her kindness and warmth, her every touch and gentle motion. 

    “Mummy has a task for you today little one. You’re such a clever girl I thought we could try some reading and writing together. Would you like that?” I nodded emphatically. Before my life took this course I’d been a young woman set on a path of scholarship. I loved reading and honestly I missed it greatly. Sometimes I’d burn with jealousy watching mummy reading on the couch whilst I made do with the baby toys she left in my playpen, remembering our early dates where we’d discuss literature and philosophy over wine. I’d always found her intellectually superior to me but I found our conversations so stimulating and inspiring. 

    “Well then, its been a long time since little Lottie wrote anything so I thought we’d begin with some spellings.” She handed me a little book decorated with hearts and stars. I opened it up to discover lined pages, the lines set apart two inches with ten lines per page. Next she handed me a purple crayon and a printed sheet with a list of words decorated with childish cartoon animals.

    Baby, Toy, Wet, Girl, Baba, Nappy, Mummy.

    I stared in disbelief. This wasn’t what I’d had in mind but I should have guessed. I felt a mild consternation at the fact that one of the words listed wasn’t even a real word and also that there was not a single word of more than two syllables. 

    “Now little one, there will be rewards and consequences to help you learn. If you do your spellings like a good little girl mummy has some lovely surprises for you. If you fail to do them like a good little girl then mummy will have to punish you. But don’t worry my Pampered Princess, you’ll get a few chances to show me what you can do.”

    She allowed me to look at the spellings for a while before slowly reading them to me. I went diligently to work, completing the task perfectly in my best handwriting. I held it up proudly for mummy. “Oh dear Lottie! This won’t do at all. That’s a strike I’m afraid. Let’s try again”

    “But, but mummy they were right! I know they were! Let me see!”

    She whisked the page away, tore it into pieces and threw it in the bin. “Mummy knows best. Now let’s try again. We went through the process again with the result and mummy’s reaction proving identical. I really didn’t understand. On my third attempt mummy frowned down “Oh dear. What a silly little girl you are. Not so clever these days are we? That’s your third strike so mummy will be smacking your bottom later. Now we are going to try again. Remember I want you to do your spellings like a good little girl”.

    Something about the way in which her emphasis fell on the word ‘little’ stuck in my head and suddenly it dawned on me what she wanted me to do. This time as she read the words I clutched the crayon clumsily in my left hand and scrawled the words. 

    “Much better!” giggled mummy. I think you’re getting the hang of it little one, but you’re still not there are you?” I gazed up in confusion. “Would a little girl like you really be able to spell those words after seeing them just once?”

    I blushed beet red on my final attempt, going against my own pride, education and intelligence as I jumbled and scrambled the letters which now crawled like spiders down the page crossing the lines obscenely. To top it all off the page tore slightly as I wrote the last word. The end result was a page of spellings that a four year old might sneer at. “Very good!” mummy giggled as she clapped her hands in mock appreciation. “Now, one last thing Lottie Potty Panties - I think maybe smacking your bottom for not understanding what mummy wanted is a little harsh, so if you can read out your spellings for mummy and then wet your nappy like a baby I won’t smack your botty for getting this task wrong so many times.”

    I stood before her and took my dummy out to read the page. “Ah ah, did mummy tell you to take your dummy out?” I lisped the words through the teat of my dummy and as requested flooded my thick nappies. “Good girl! Mummy cooed. Now, I’m afraid mummy’s still going to smack your bottom, but know that it’s not because of your spellings little one; it’s because mummy enjoys smacking your bottom, and you live for mummy’s pleasure don’t you honey bunch?”
    “yes mummy”, I mumbled, inwardly tingling with the thrill of my own abjection and the prospect of mummy once again having her way with me. 

    Cute and hot 😊

    hellohello-kittykitty:

    Allison knew she was in trouble the instant she walked in the front door; before she could even cross the threshold, or even see her brooding babysitter waiting in the front hall, the piercing tirade hit her.

    “ALLISON ELIZABETH SONG! YOU WERE GROUNDED, WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?? I SAID STRAIGHT HOME FROM DAYCARE. STRAIGHT HOME! NO EXCUSES, REMEMBER? FIRST YOU THROW A FIT OVER CLEANING YOUR ROOM, AND NOW YOU’RE *AN HOUR* LATE FROM SCHOOL?! OK…YEP, I THINK WE NEED SOME CORNER TIME. LET’S GO!”

    Shocked, Allison could only stare as her jaw slowly slacked and eyes started to water. It wasn’t her fault! There was a puppy she just *HADDA* pet: it was soooo alone! And there were flowers she just *HADDA* smell: they were so close! And she just *HADDA* play one last game of tag: everyone else was playing! Allison felt trapped, she felt confused: what else could she have done!? Ashamed and tear-eyed, she let her babysitter’s hand guide her through the house as she mumbled excuses about puppies, and flowers, and tag…

    “…mmhm…ok…Allison, SHH! I said no whining. Your Mommy and Daddy said you needed to listen to me while they were gone, and I said you were grounded. And being grounded means you DON’T get to have fun: that’s what being grounded means. You need to learn to listen, Allison, so you’re going to stand in the naughty corner and think about what you did for a FULL hour.”

    As the babysitter’s hand left hers, Allison turned from the confines of the naughty corner to face her au pair, whining desperately, hoping for any reprieve from her sentence. Vision blurred from sobbing, Allison watched the au pair move towards the nursery stereo, immediately pausing her tantrum.

    The hypnotic nursery music, layered with powerful subliminal regression tracks, had proven extremely effective on Allison: within 6 months of nightly treatment the tracks had transformed her from an aggressively rebellious partier to a well-adjusted student at the local adult daycare. Even her thick daytime diapers no longer seemed to bother her. Timeout still bothered her though, and now Allison was extremely bothered. More than that, watching the babysitter insert the “Potty Tape” into the Kitty shaped speakers, Allison was worried. She knew what THAT tape did, and she knew how LONG an hour was, and, worse, she knew it wasn’t changies until AFTER naptime. Resigned, Allison stared at her au pair as the sickly sweet ambiance began to sound, fidgiting as the babysitter turned to leave the room.

    “OK Allison, when the BABY music stops playing timeout is over. Remember, it’s spankings if you leave that corner for ANY reason…and you BETTER keep that nose in the corner the WHOLE time, Missy.”

    misguidedbrat:

    *This short story is a continuation of one I wrote earlier called “Graduation, failed”*


    I was lost in my blissful reverie - savouring the soft feelings that surrounded me. My cot was replete with delicious blankets and soft cushions. I rolled from side to side forgetting my shame and drinking in the wonderful feelings. My hands clutched at the front of my thick disposable nappy, and I pushed and thrusted rhythmically. So lost was I that all caution had been abandoned. I was enjoying the loud rustling of my nappies which usually filled me with shame and anxiety. I pulled a satin pillow over my face and began to edge myself towards orgasm once more, slowing my pace at the crucial moment, wanting this blissful moment to last forever. I pulled the pillow away for air and felt a shock of electric panic explode through my body. My girlfriend / mummy was standing by the cot her phone held up obviously filming the whole shameful display. I had been so lost in my fantasies that I had no idea how long she had been there. 

    “Oh, don’t stop on my account Lottie! You’re not finished are you?”

    I trembled in fearful silence. She lent over the rails of the cot and slapped my face hard. “Answer me. Did you finish or not?” 

    “N- no mummy”.

    “Good. I have a lovely idea which I think will teach you a valuable lesson. Get up.” 

    She lowered the railing of the cot and I stood up shakily. “Liz, please I-”

    I was stopped mid sentence by a hard slap across the thigh. “Don’t you dare call me that! ‘Liz’ is what grownups and equals call me. You will call me ‘mummy’. Is that understood?”

    “Yes mummy”.

    “Good.”. With that she picked up my dummy and pressed it into my mouth. “That doesn’t come out until mummy takes it out, is that understood?” I nodded. 

    To my horror she started leading me out of the room. I was powerless to resist and before I knew it I was standing in nothing but my nappy and pyjama top sucking on my dummy in front of mummy’s two close friends Helen and Phoebe. There was a brief silence before the pair burst out in fits of laughter. I tried to cower behind mummy but she yanked my wrist and forced me to stand right in the middle of the room. 

    “Don’t move a muscle!” she snarled as she took a seat on the sofa between her two friends. 

    I stood trembling before them, all memories of my blissful masturbation dissolved. 

    “I just caught this little bedwetter playing with herself. Look”. She showed them the screen of her phone. I cringed as I listened to the load rustling and occasional moans while the three of them laughed and scorned my pathetic behavior. 

    “A little girl shouldn’t be playing with herself. I hope you’re ashamed of yourself” said Phoebe as I turned a dark shade of pink. 

    “Well Lottie,” mummy addressed me “as a special treat I thought I’d let you have your way. You are going to sit on the floor in front of us and masturbate.”
    “No, p-please!” I stammered around my dummy. 

    “Shush! You are going to sit on the floor and masturbate in your nappy and what’s more you will damn well like it! But first to show Helen and Phoebe what a pathetic little toddler you are I want you to wet your nappy.”

    I knew my fate was inevitable. “Come here Lottie” commanded Phoebe. You can sit on my lap. Those nappies won’t leak will they?” 

    “Not at all. They can take two or three good wettings”

    “Good”. She dragged me onto her knee, put her had between my legs and ordered me to wet. “Go on. Wet yourself.” It didn’t take much. I wanted the earth to swallow me as I completed my infantile act. “I always knew you were a loser. When Liz first started dating you I saw it. You’re one of a kind. A complete sub. I bet she could get you to do anything at all.”

    Two minutes later I was sat on the floor, my legs splayed out and my hands rubbing my nappies. Despite my shame I was suddenly extremely aroused again, and it seemed that the more they teased me the closer I came to my orgasm. Soon I was approaching my shuddering climax, and when it finally enveloped me I fell back onto the floor and lay there prostrate for a good ten seconds. 

    The jolt back to reality was truly horrible. Shame flooded me and tears filled my eyes as the unrelenting laughter seemed to echo eternally. To my horror mummy left the room only to return with a fresh nappy and my changing mat. I sobbed uncontrollably “Noo! Noo pleaaase” as she laid me down and untaped my sodden nappy. She held it aloft for all to see. “Look at this naughty sticky mess she’s made. Well, let me assure you missy, there will be no more of that. From now on you will enjoy adult pleasures if and when I say so. I might even get a little cage for Tinkerbell and lock her up!”

    I sobbed gently as she taped me into a brand new nappy. Once it was taped on she knelt down and gently kissed my mouth. I loved her so much, and in truth I knew that this was what I desired and deserved. 

    **

    I had been lying in my cot for an hour before mummy came into the bedroom and climbed onto what had once been our shared bed. My hands and feet had been tied to the cot so that there would be no more “naughty business”. 

    “You’ve had quite a day, haven’t you darling. And to tell you the truth so have I. I know what mummy did may have seemed very cruel, but you and I both know that this is what you want. I had a rummage through your old underwear drawer earlier and along with your favourite lingerie I also found this.” She held forth my vibrator. “We’ve had a lot of fun with this in the past, but I think it is time that I confiscated it. After all, my little baby Chastity won’t be needing it anymore will she?” She opened her silk robe and I saw that she was  wearing my favourite lingerie set. “You had your fun today, and now it’s time for mummy to have hers princess.” She clicked the remote and the large television came on. On the screen I saw a familiar sight - me sitting on the living room floor shaming myself. There’s nothing excites me more than your submission Lottie… Nothing”

    I lay in mute arousal and unerring awe as my beautiful mummy brought herself to climax again and again as I looked on in purest helpless devotion. 

    touch-my-hentai-daddi:

    kitten-liittles:

    honeysweet-bunny:

    smol-princess-maya:

    kowalaz:

    tinylittlepancakes:

    kinzjamo:

    agent-valkyrie-romanoff:

    starrynight6336:

    chronic-confessions:

    thelastwinterrelics:

    fitnesschangesjourney:

    skvnnnnny:

    catscalling:

    cataclysmic-cliffs:

    shiveringskinny:

    catherinegrant:

    maynothingeverstopyou:

    castiel-assbutt-winchester:

    whatifdestiel:

    i-m-p-a-l-a-6-7:

    senoralfredo:

    pixelz01:

    imnotaboyorgirl:

    lostinmyweight:

    dainty–wintergirl:

    chaneldiets:

    crazyworkswell:

    destielsolangelotrash:

    queefinchicken:

    obnoxiously-phan:

    annoyedvertigo:

    mimi-shake-draws:

    catchaglimpseofalleble:

    clloudy:

    flustered-custard:

    silentshivers:

    every single person who reblogs this

    every

    single

    person.

    ALL OF YOU.

    no limit, no one skipped. EVERY PERSON WHO REBLOGS THIS.

    DON’T ASK WHY, IT’LL MAKE SENSE LATER

    WHAT DOES THIS EVEN MEAN

    Just wait…it’ll all make sense.

    I REBLOG THIS BECAUSE I AM CURIOUS. I AM WAITING

    I REBLOGGED AND IMMEDIATELY AFTER

    I reblogged as a joke and i swear that it happened five minutes later omg

    ME TOO

    WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING?

    I don’t know whether to be afraid of this post but it won’t get off my mind

    scared af

    What

    Whaaat

    Well ok

    Oh boy

    Ok Then

    ?

    Ok. What’s gonna happen?

    Okaaay…

    it worked. I had to go back and find this because… it worked.

    What the fuck I reblogged this a couple hours ago and they really do mean every single person no one skipped O.o h o w

    let’s hope is something goooood

    what does this mean

    wot in tarnation

    What?

    IM SO GLAD IM SEEING THIS AGAIN. REBLOGGING AGAIN CAUSE ITS REALLY EVERY SINGLE PERSON NO ONE SKIPPED.

    Oh dear

    I’m spooked

    Should I be worried????? Why am I reblogging???

    WHAT IS GOING TO HAPPEN?!

    Sad hours so I waste my life and reblog this

    this scares me and i’m afraid

    I have no idea why I reblogged this

    Whyyyyyyy

    ??

    WHY SHOULD I?

    Edit: oh.. I just did

    very frickin confuzzled wot?

    This is the most ominous thing I have ever seen.

    humiliationelation:

    Everyone knows that feeling on a Sunday morning. Laying in bed, sun breaking through the blinds and dotting the room in a hazy light. Thick comforter’s and blankets softly holding the warmth close to your body.

    Jessy was in purgatory, not quite awake, but not quite asleep. She didn’t have to work on weekends and cherished the fact. The slight pressure in her forehead reminiscent the bottle of wine she drank the night before, not a hangover, just a heaviness.

    She drifted in and out of sleep lazily for what seemed like hours. Until…

    Jessy’s eyes shot open, her drowsiness evaporated in replacement of panic. She had started to wet the bed. Everyone knows the feeling. Am I asleep? Am I awake? It doesn’t matter, there is a toilet and a need. Only to realize, yea… no, I wasn’t awake. In the end it didn’t really matter, she lived alone anyway, but she was mortified nonetheless. 

    She pulled back her covers to see the damage done, now fully awake.

    Only to feel her legs dry. Huh…. but she was sure she went at least a bit. She kicked her legs, the covers flying, to discover a massive quadruple tape diaper in place of her usual boyshorts. Now this, was unmistakably, not dry. She moved to her knee’s, mouth agape. How did this even happen? Why was she in diapers? Why were they wet?! 

    Jessy reached down and softly felt the front of the garment, smooth warm plastic greeting her hand. With a tentative squeeze the diaper squelched loudly in response. She lifted her shirt to her mouth and saw the waistband hugged her snugly. Being in her 20′s and having spent some time as a babysitter, she was not unfamiliar with diapering, nor was she an expert. One thing was certain though, this was not done by her. The angle would have been impossible, the way the band sat snugly against her groin, no, it couldn’t have been.

    It didn’t matter, what did was that she was in a damp diaper, and like any rational adult, wanted out. She sighed deeply, wondering how she managed to get herself into these positions. She clearly needed to start drinking wine of higher caliber or lower quantity.

    She moved quickly to her feet, perhaps too quickly, her legs shook unsteadily as she placed her foot on the bed. She wobbled, half standing, half squat. 

    A voice beckoned behind her

    “Oh you’re awake already? You must be starving”

    Jessy yelped loudly, frightened to see her exboyfriend Matt standing in her doorway.

    The surprise was accompanied by the loud completion of her flooding her diaper. An entire bottle of wine, the shock, and the unfamiliarity of her situation doing her no favors. She half-stood in shock for a moment as her diaper thirstily absorbed the flow that she was at first, unable to stop, and finally, resigned to the situation, aided by her ferver to be finished.

    The room was silent absent the sound of the diaper crinkling softly as the new weight and gravity aided its descent from her bottom. Jessy could feel the waistband tug slightly at her waistline as she finished peeing.

    “I… uhhh… what are you”

    Matt moved effortlessly through the room, picking things up, humming quietly as if this was the most normal thing in his world. He moved to the dresser which slid open easily.

    If Jessy had tried to find her voice before, it abandoned her now. The dresser was filled to spilling with diapers. Rows and rows of them lined her once mature warddrobe.

    Matt grabbed one moving toward the door.

    “Lets get you changed you soggy little mess”

    Jessy croaked slowly getting down off the bed, focusing her efforts to steady herself.

    “Matt…. what is this? Whats happening? We aren’t together…? I broke up with you…. I’m just trying to live my life the way I want and I couldn’t stand how you always lectured me on growing up and getting a real job. Just because you’re in finance and made money.”

    “Uhhh… we never broke up? How could we anyway, who would change your diapers? You’re being silly, its 2018, after you decided you wanted to just ignore the conventional career path, you slowly regressed towards this.”

    Jessy’s head spun. It was 2019, no… this wasn’t right, she was just taking her time in her career… working that job was just temporary. Her mind was cloudy… Matt was so handsome… wait what… no. He’s not supposed to be here. 

    “Let’s get you changed and get some breakfast in you” he said again chuckling.

    Jessy looked to him in the doorway, blocking her escape. She wasn’t about to let her ex change her wet diaper. She looked to the window. In a split second she moved in what felt like molasses and with great effort hoisted her leg to the sill.

    Her fear a knot in her stomach, suddenly loose. No. It wasn’t fear. Jessy stood, one foot on the windowsill, one planted firmly on the ground, as she nonchalantly pushed a massive, unending mess into her waiting diaper. 

    Her head shot back as she could only watch the diaper expand. Her glance falling to her ex in the doorway.

    Matt grinned, leaning against the door frame, fresh diaper in hand.

    The massive diaper expanded visibly to allow for every fresh assault to accommodate any available space.

    Jessy groaned audibly as her diaper filled, the previous space left by her wetting and gravity quickly occupied by what was the largest mess she had ever made.

    If the wetting had tested the diapers waistband, the mess surely meant to bring the thing to failure. The childish diaper sagged ominously as Jessy whined. Her whimper turning to a loud cry.

    Matt guessed she was moments away from a full blown tantrum.

    He walked to her, coolly placing his hand on the impressively, still expanding, diaper. 

    Jessy opened her mouth in shock, which Matt filled immediately with a pacifier.

    Her mouth closed instinctively and went to work as a final assault found its way into her diaper.

    Finally, she finished. Matt squeezed and Jessy yelped in response, her face burning.

    “You were saying?” He said cooly.

    Jessy could only look down as Matt lifted her easily under her padded butt, warm mess pressing thickly against the entirety of her groin, the massive humiliation reminding her of her place, his other hand on the small of her back, legs wrapped around him. 

    He carried her gingerly as they left her room, her eyes raising finally, to see the room was not hers, but a nursery.

    “Don’t worry little Jessy, I will make sure you are well taken care of” as he patted her diaper condescendingly. 


    Don’t you just love Sunday mornings :)


    All credit in the world to @missy-ickle (formerly @jessyickle) for this one. She gave me permission to use her excellent content. Give her a follow and reblog, she deserves it! 

    If you enjoy these more nuanced/multiphoto captions, please be vocal about it. Post, comment, send me a message, I appreciate the feedback.

    humiliationelation:

    Everyone knows that feeling on a Sunday morning. Laying in bed, sun breaking through the blinds and dotting the room in a hazy light. Thick comforter’s and blankets softly holding the warmth close to your body.

    Jessy was in purgatory, not quite awake, but not quite asleep. She didn’t have to work on weekends and cherished the fact. The slight pressure in her forehead reminiscent the bottle of wine she drank the night before, not a hangover, just a heaviness.

    She drifted in and out of sleep lazily for what seemed like hours. Until…

    Jessy’s eyes shot open, her drowsiness evaporated in replacement of panic. She had started to wet the bed. Everyone knows the feeling. Am I asleep? Am I awake? It doesn’t matter, there is a toilet and a need. Only to realize, yea… no, I wasn’t awake. In the end it didn’t really matter, she lived alone anyway, but she was mortified nonetheless. 

    She pulled back her covers to see the damage done, now fully awake.

    Only to feel her legs dry. Huh…. but she was sure she went at least a bit. She kicked her legs, the covers flying, to discover a massive quadruple tape diaper in place of her usual boyshorts. Now this, was unmistakably, not dry. She moved to her knee’s, mouth agape. How did this even happen? Why was she in diapers? Why were they wet?! 

    Jessy reached down and softly felt the front of the garment, smooth warm plastic greeting her hand. With a tentative squeeze the diaper squelched loudly in response. She lifted her shirt to her mouth and saw the waistband hugged her snugly. Being in her 20′s and having spent some time as a babysitter, she was not unfamiliar with diapering, nor was she an expert. One thing was certain though, this was not done by her. The angle would have been impossible, the way the band sat snugly against her groin, no, it couldn’t have been.

    It didn’t matter, what did was that she was in a damp diaper, and like any rational adult, wanted out. She sighed deeply, wondering how she managed to get herself into these positions. She clearly needed to start drinking wine of higher caliber or lower quantity.

    She moved quickly to her feet, perhaps too quickly, her legs shook unsteadily as she placed her foot on the bed. She wobbled, half standing, half squat. 

    A voice beckoned behind her

    “Oh you’re awake already? You must be starving”

    Jessy yelped loudly, frightened to see her exboyfriend Matt standing in her doorway.

    The surprise was accompanied by the loud completion of her flooding her diaper. An entire bottle of wine, the shock, and the unfamiliarity of her situation doing her no favors. She half-stood in shock for a moment as her diaper thirstily absorbed the flow that she was at first, unable to stop, and finally, resigned to the situation, aided by her ferver to be finished.

    The room was silent absent the sound of the diaper crinkling softly as the new weight and gravity aided its descent from her bottom. Jessy could feel the waistband tug slightly at her waistline as she finished peeing.

    “I… uhhh… what are you”

    Matt moved effortlessly through the room, picking things up, humming quietly as if this was the most normal thing in his world. He moved to the dresser which slid open easily.

    If Jessy had tried to find her voice before, it abandoned her now. The dresser was filled to spilling with diapers. Rows and rows of them lined her once mature warddrobe.

    Matt grabbed one moving toward the door.

    “Lets get you changed you soggy little mess”

    Jessy croaked slowly getting down off the bed, focusing her efforts to steady herself.

    “Matt…. what is this? Whats happening? We aren’t together…? I broke up with you…. I’m just trying to live my life the way I want and I couldn’t stand how you always lectured me on growing up and getting a real job. Just because you’re in finance and made money.”

    “Uhhh… we never broke up? How could we anyway, who would change your diapers? You’re being silly, its 2018, after you decided you wanted to just ignore the conventional career path, you slowly regressed towards this.”

    Jessy’s head spun. It was 2019, no… this wasn’t right, she was just taking her time in her career… working that job was just temporary. Her mind was cloudy… Matt was so handsome… wait what… no. He’s not supposed to be here. 

    “Let’s get you changed and get some breakfast in you” he said again chuckling.

    Jessy looked to him in the doorway, blocking her escape. She wasn’t about to let her ex change her wet diaper. She looked to the window. In a split second she moved in what felt like molasses and with great effort hoisted her leg to the sill.

    Her fear a knot in her stomach, suddenly loose. No. It wasn’t fear. Jessy stood, one foot on the windowsill, one planted firmly on the ground, as she nonchalantly pushed a massive, unending mess into her waiting diaper. 

    Her head shot back as she could only watch the diaper expand. Her glance falling to her ex in the doorway.

    Matt grinned, leaning against the door frame, fresh diaper in hand.

    The massive diaper expanded visibly to allow for every fresh assault to accommodate any available space.

    Jessy groaned audibly as her diaper filled, the previous space left by her wetting and gravity quickly occupied by what was the largest mess she had ever made.

    If the wetting had tested the diapers waistband, the mess surely meant to bring the thing to failure. The childish diaper sagged ominously as Jessy whined. Her whimper turning to a loud cry.

    Matt guessed she was moments away from a full blown tantrum.

    He walked to her, coolly placing his hand on the impressively, still expanding, diaper. 

    Jessy opened her mouth in shock, which Matt filled immediately with a pacifier.

    Her mouth closed instinctively and went to work as a final assault found its way into her diaper.

    Finally, she finished. Matt squeezed and Jessy yelped in response, her face burning.

    “You were saying?” He said cooly.

    Jessy could only look down as Matt lifted her easily under her padded butt, warm mess pressing thickly against the entirety of her groin, the massive humiliation reminding her of her place, his other hand on the small of her back, legs wrapped around him. 

    He carried her gingerly as they left her room, her eyes raising finally, to see the room was not hers, but a nursery.

    “Don’t worry little Jessy, I will make sure you are well taken care of” as he patted her diaper condescendingly. 


    Don’t you just love Sunday mornings :)


    All credit in the world to @missy-ickle (formerly @jessyickle) for this one. She gave me permission to use her excellent content. Give her a follow and reblog, she deserves it! 

    If you enjoy these more nuanced/multiphoto captions, please be vocal about it. Post, comment, send me a message, I appreciate the feedback.

    misguidedbrat:

    I sat in the little playpen in the corner of our bedroom sobbing gently. Today I’d had a chance to prove myself and needless to say I had failed.

    Mummy loved to play games with me. Ever since the beginning of our relationship she’d been working to establish greater power dynamics. I’d always known I was a natural submissive by mummy had pushed me further and further down the spiral. Now here I was sitting in my playpen in nothing but a thick crinkly white nappy adorned with infantile designs of flowers and butterflies. In addition to my infantile attire my face was covered in sloppy baby food and I was desperately waiting for mummy to come and grant me permission to wet my nappy…

    ****

    Earlier that afternoon when mummy was putting me down for my nap she introduced a special treat. She was about to tape me into a clean nappy when she took a small silver key from her pocket. I gasped in excitement, for I knew exactly what this meant. Mummy had locked “Tinkerbell” (the pet name she gave to my genitals) up in a chastity cage two weeks previously after she caught me playing with myself. This had been on the one hand a horrible punishment but on the other hand it had brought me strangely closer to her. Since I had been locked up I had lived in a constant state of arousal that I had no control over. This meant that I spent a lot more time clinging to mummy, staring after her, wanting to be held close. I was far more willing to accept her infantile treatment of me. I felt so absolutely owned.

    As she held the key before me I was hoping beyond hope that she might allow me to cum for her like a good girl. Perhaps I would impress her so much she would make it a regular occurrence. I lay there trembling ready to beg for release. She smiled down at me condescendingly before inserting the key in the lock and unclipping the cage that had imprisoned me for a long and desperate fortnight.

    I felt myself becoming aroused almost straight away. To my alarm mummy was now clipping something else to my Tinkerbell. A pink rubber cap was looped over me so that it held my genitals in a strange tension. Soon my nappy was taped up and I was lying in my cot.

    “Little Lottie… You’ve been such an obedient little girl for mummy these last two weeks, and as a result mummy is going to give you the loveliest treat. It’s your naptime now but when mummy comes back you’ll be cradled in her arms and then mummy will have her fun with this!” She produced a remote control. “This is the controller for the device in your nappy. It’s a ten speed vibrator. As a special treat this evening mummy is going to let little Lottie nurse from her and all the while that little toy in your nappy will be bringing you the loveliest thrills imaginable. Now you be a good girl and settle for your nap and we will have our playtime when you wake up.”

    Mummy got up and left the room. I lay back in my cot sucking rhythmically on my dummy. I’d never felt so excited. As I lay in my reverie I noticed that on the stand next to my night light mummy had absentmindedly left the control to my new toy! I couldn’t believe it. I knew I had to be careful. I knew that mummy would detect any naughty messes in my nappy, but it couldn’t hurt to have a little taste of things to come.

    I stared at the remote for a long time, memorising its exact permission before picking it up and pressing down on the “1″ button. A jolting shock sent spasms through my groin. It was followed in quick succession by another and another. I screamed out in alarm. I grasped for the remote but in my panic I knocked it out of reach beyond the bars of my cot. The shocks kept on coming and a cried and writhed in desperation.

    Mummy flung wide the door. “What’s wrong little angel? Did you have a bad dream?”

    I cried out again “mummy stop it. Please stop it!”

    “Stop what baby? What’s wrong?” I cried out incoherently. “Lottie, use your words and tell mummy what’s wrong or mummy can’t help”

    “Mummy! In my nappy!”

    “Oh dear! Have you wet yourself babygirl?”

    “Noo mummy I sorry!”

    “Oh dear. Have you made a mess without asking? You know you’re to ask mummy before you wet or mess your nappies!”

    “No mummy I pressed the button and it hurts!”

    “Oh I see. And why should mummy help you?”

    “Pleeeease!” I sobbed and sobbed till at long last mummy pressed a button on the back of the controller and the shocks stopped.

    “Well Lottie, you made it four minutes. I must say, I thought even you could do better than that. And to think, in just half an hour you could have been wrapped up in mummy’s arms nursing whilst mummy let you have all the fun you could imagine. You see Lottie, it’s not me who ruins things for you; you do it to yourself. I think we’ll take you down for dinner now then it’s back in your chastity cage and timeout.”

    An our later I sat in the kitchen whilst mummy prepared my babyfood. She had made herself a delicious dinner and I stared at it hungrily from my position on the kitchen floor knowing full well that soon I would be eating bland slop in my highchair whilst she enjoyed a veritable feast. I saw her dumping vegetables, caster oil and all manner of ill suited foods into the blender before whizzing it up. The concoction looked and smelled worse than usual. I walked over to my high chair.

    “Ah ah! No eating at the table for you tonight baby. You’re in disgrace. You can eat from a bowl on the floor like a dog.” She placed the fowl slop on the floor and took off my top. “What do we say?”

    “Fank you for my delicious food mummy” I stuttered.

    “Good. Now eat up!” I knelt down and began to eat. I knew the drill. I had to eat the disgusting food as quickly as I could then go and wait in timeout before bedtime.”

    Once I was done I scuttled up to our bedroom and sat in the playpen. Once again I had disgraced myself and scuppered my chances of even the slightest independence. As I sat there sobbing to myself I felt the urge come and almost let go, before remembering my rules and calling out “Mummy? Mummy? May I wet my nappy for you please?”