A While Back I Talked About Making A Diaper Audio…. And Here Is My First Attempt! 

Mummy's Girl - Part 1

Kimmy might be a twenty-two year-old-woman, but her potty skills have never been up to the level of her peers. Living firmly under the thumb of her controlling, condescending mother, she desperately wants to live an ordinary life of a girl her age, to make friends and go on dates and, above all, to say goodbye to dirty diapers for good. Unfortunately, her Mama has other ideas...

***

Kimmy hurried up to the front door as quickly and quietly as she could, praying her mother was preoccupied with something and wouldn’t notice her sneaking into the house so late – it was almost eight thirty in the evening, which meant it was past her bedtime. She tottered a little unsteadily up the drive, thanks in part to the half a dozen or so shots of vodka she’d had with her college friends at the bar after lectures. But there was another thing making her walk a little strangely; a thick pair of oversized Huggies pull-ups were pushing her thighs apart, and one of her hands was pressed urgently against her crotch as she fought desperately not to wet herself.

If it wasn’t for her babyish training pants and the childish clothes she was dressed in (a pale pink frock that could just barely pass for something a grown woman might wear), Kimmy would have looked the part of the archetypal blonde bombshell. As it was, her long golden hair looked more cute than sexy in braided pigtails, and her generous chest was hidden, crammed inside her tight blouse. Her bright blue eyes, plump lips, and perfect complexion were model-like, but at present her features were scrunched up with the effort of holding her aching bladder.

Nevertheless, there was no doubt that Kimmy was a beautiful, fully-grown woman. Although the toddler’s pull-ups she wore instead of adult underwear didn’t make her feel that way, she was actually two or three years older than most of her peers at university. It was her mother’s doing, of course. Mrs Jones had decided on three separate occasions that her daughter ‘simply wasn’t mature enough’ to move on to the next school year, and had insisted she be held back – once in kindergarten, then twice over the course of primary school, making her much older than her classmates. But she’d been the only one still toddling off to the nurse’s office at breaktime for diaper changes. At least she’d kicked her pants-pooping habit by the time she’d moved on to secondary school, even if she did still have to contend with wet training pants on a regular basis.

Now, though, the age difference wasn’t nearly as important as it had been, and even her pee-pee issues had almost completely dried up. At long last, Kimmy was free in a way she’d never been before, free from the humiliation of being a grown woman who still went to the bathroom in her own pants. She only wished she could be free from her mother’s constant coddling as well. She’d been worried her mum wouldn’t allow her to go to college at all, but with enough badgering, she’d eventually relented – on the condition that Kimmy choose a local university, and live at home rather than at a dorm. Unfortunately, that meant dealing with the same rules she’d had since the age of six.

“What time do you call this, Kimmy?!” her mother thundered the moment Kimmy entered the house. “It’s past your bedtime, little girl! Where have you been?!”

Kimmy let out a whimper and felt the familiar sensation of her bladder letting go in her pants. Warm pee flooded into her pull-ups at once, accompanied by a faint hissing sound. It had been a feeble hope, but there was a small chance she could have slipped in without her mother noticing if she’d been taking a bath or something. But she ought to have known better; her mum had never once failed to catch her breaking a rule in all her life.

Apart from being a little plumper, Mrs Jones looked exactly like an aged-up version of her daughter; the same golden blonde hair, only tied up in a tight knot behind her head rather than arranged in childish pigtails, the same large breasts, though in her case her assets were proudly on display in a tastefully tempting, low-cut top, and the same crystal blue eyes and full lips, perhaps a little less pouty than her daughter’s, but painted a deep, sensuous red. The most dramatic difference between them were their expressions, however. While Kimmy looked shy and sweet, her mother gave off an impression of severity and self-confidence.

“I was just out with my friends, Mama…” Kimmy said meekly, pulling a face at the icky feeling of the heavy, pee-soaked pull-ups squishing against her skin.

Her mother sniffed the air suspiciously and her eyes flashed. “Have you been drinking, young lady?!”

“I’m twenty-two, Mama!” Kimmy whined petulantly, looking down at her feet. “I’m allowed to drink!”

“As long as you’re under my roof, that decision is up to me, Kimmy! You know your bladder can’t cope when you…” She paused, sniffing the air again. “Oh, Kimmy…” she said in a disappointed, threatening tone. “You didn’t…”

Kimmy’s bottom lip trembled and tears welled up in her eyes as her mother reached out and lifted up the hem of her frock, exposing the faded wetness indicators on the front of her sagging pull-ups.

“Soaked!” her mother announced, as she inspected the discoloured training pants between her daughter’s legs. “This is exactly why you shouldn’t be drinking, Kimmy! I told you this would happen! Mama is very cross with you, little lady! I’ve been trying my hardest to finally get you potty trained, and you insist on going out of your way to make it as difficult as possible! Maybe you’re not mature enough for college after all…”

“No!” Kimmy squealed, eyes widening in fear. “Please, Mama! It was just an accident!”

“Two-year-olds have accidents, Kimmy, not twenty-two-year-olds. Perhaps daycare will suit you better than university…”

“I’ll be good!” Kimmy said desperately. Tears were spilling down her cheeks. “Please, Mama! Don’t make me drop out! I can be a big girl, I promise! I even have a date tomorrow with a guy from my class!”

Her mother said nothing for a few seconds. Then she sighed. “Alright, Kimmy. But you still need to be disciplined. Are you going to be a good girl and accept your punishment?”

“Yes, Mama!” Kimmy said at once, even though her stomach was twisting uncomfortably at the thought of what her mother likely had in mind.

“Then come me with, baby.” She took her daughter’s hand and led her to her bedroom. Kimmy’s heart sank as she watched her approach the closet, open the doors, and bend down to reach what Kimmy knew was sitting at the bottom. A moment later she straightened up, holding in her hand one of the enormous, custom-ordered Pampers that she used for her go-to punishment – diaper discipline.

“Mama, please…” Kimmy whispered, her bright eyes fixed on the huge nappy.

“Three days in diapers, Kimmy,” her mother said briskly, walking over to the large changing table that still sat in the middle of the bedroom and patting the surface. “Hop up. You know the drill.”

Her feet felt like they were made of lead, but Kimmy dragged them over to the table obediently and hoisted herself up.

“Good girl,” her mother said, quickly getting to work stripping off her clothes. “You just lie still and Mama will have that naughty bottom back in nappies in no time!”

Kimmy covered her face with her hands so she wouldn’t be able to see as her mother ripped off her pissy pull-ups and slid the bulky diaper under her bottom in their place. But she could feel the cool tickle of the baby wipe as the pee was cleaned off her skin, and there was no blocking out her mother’s voice. “There you go, Kimmy,” she said, pulling thick padding up between her legs and taping it into place. “Now you can wet yourself as much as you want, just like a baby. Do you remember the rules?”

“No toilets,” said Kimmy quietly. “No asking for a change. No touching my diaper.”

“Good girl.”

Kimmy took her hands away from her face and swung herself down from the table. Her gait was spread wide; as always, the Pampers felt absurdly thick between her legs – big enough to hold a full day’s worth of a grown woman’s pee.

“Mama,” Kimmy said hesitantly, “maybe I could just use them for number one, and then when I need to-”

“You’ll poop in them too, Kimmy,” her mother said firmly. “A full nappy will help you appreciate how immature you acted.”

Kimmy screwed up her face and tried not to cry. Wetting herself was one thing, but dirtying her diaper always transported her back to those awful days of her childhood when she still had poopy accidents. She wanted more than anything to leave that phase of her life behind forever. “Yes, Mama…” she mumbled.

“Now, brush teeth and straight to bed young lady!” her mother ordered, delivering a firm smack to her bottom to send her on her way. “No dawdling, or you’ll have a red bottom under your nappy by the time I tuck you in!”

***

The full story can be found on Patreon for those who want to read more.

“Relax. Have a seat if you like. Of course, I have some rules. Little boys must wear diapers if they are going to be sitting on the furniture. These are expensive pieces, and I just can’t risk you having a wet or messy accident on them. Don’t you worry, sweetheart. Auntie will put you in diapers and it will be our little secret. If you don’t have to go, then you don’t have to go, and there’s nothing to worry about. If you do have an accident, well, that’s what diapers are for. And if you have to go pee pee or poo poo and decide you’d rather just let go and let your diaper do all the work, well, like I said, it’ll be our little secret. So what are we waiting for? Let’s get you in a diaper ASAP.”

WARNING: DIAPER MESSING/PEEING, DIARRHEA, ALCHOL MENTIONED

Aaron woke to a wet feeling around his bottom for the second time that morning. The first time he had woken up, he had been too hungover to do anything about the fact that he was urinating. Going out for drinks the night before had been a bad idea for so many reasons, but mostly because his bladder simply could not handle that much alcohol.

Now, he groggily sat up in bed and pulled the wet sheets off himself. He didn’t have the energy to get mad at himself or the brand of diapers he was wearing for the huge wet stain that spread to the far reaches of his bed. He reached down to feel the waterlogged diaper that sat between his legs. It was soaked yellow and leaked a little when Aaron touched it. It was as if he had started peeing as soon as he fell asleep and hadn’t stopped until he had just woken up. And oh gosh, it smelled awful. He was lucky for the mattress cover, or he would have had to throw the whole thing away. Today was definitely laundry day.

Aaron removed his wet diaper and shirt and left them both on the bed. He walked naked to grab a trash bag, his hamper, and a new diaper. He knew he should shower first, but he wanted to rid the smell from the room asap, and he was unsure how long cleanup would take or if he was fully empty. Sure enough, as he dumped everything into the washing machine, he felt a trickle in his diaper. It wasn't nearly as much as before, but if he hadn't been wearing a diaper, he would have had to mop as well.

With everything in the wash, Aaron stretched and yawned as he made his way towards the shower. His diaper was wet again, so he smelled even more like urine than before. He barely got the bathroom door open when his alarm went off. He picked up his phone to silence it, then swore when he realized what it was for. It had been going off for 30 minutes to remind him that he had a Zoom class at 10. It was now 9:55. He rushed to his computer to log in before remembering that he was completely shirtless. He slipped into the first T-shirt he grabbed just as the class started.

This professor was, unfortunately, strict about having the camera on. She didn't care about being muted, but she wanted to make sure everyone was at the very least paying attention. The rule was that if you had to turn your camera off, it was only twice and for five minutes unless you had a good excuse. Aaron would have used one of his times to change when he realized the shirt he'd grabbed was an ABDL T-shirt with cute animals flying planes, but he didn't want to draw attention to it. Thank goodness it wasn't a more obvious one, but he made sure not to stand because this particular shirt doubled as a onesie. Halfway through the class, he felt something pressing against his bottom. He was glad he was muted because the gas that shot out of him just then was like a firecracker. He hadn't even eaten today, but the results of last night's disaster were finally making their way out of his colon. Aaron did his best not to make a face as he quickly switched off his camera. It was coming out, and he barely had time to stand up before something painfully snaked out of him. It stung as his bottom opened up to another solid mass of poop, warming the back of his diaper with another filthy release.

"Mr. Millards, I'm timing you," the professor said, referring to Aaron. But he could barely hear her over the sound of his diaper filling. It took three minutes before he felt like he was okay enough to stop, though he could tell he wasn't empty. It wasn't lost on him that he didn't have enough time to change, and he grimaced as he looked back at the bulging brown and yellow padding wrapped around his waist. He held his breath, carefully lowered his bottom into his seat, and cringed as he felt the hot oatmeal texture spread around his bottom. The smell was immediate and rancid. He wondered what the hell he ate last night and swore to avoid it the next time he was blackout drunk. He wiped away his sweat, prayed his diaper wouldn't leak during class, and returned to the Zoom session.

Aaron felt each minute of the rest of class drag on, each second making his stomach twitch. When it finally ended, he'd never turned his camera off so fast. His next class wasn't for another three hours, so he rushed to grab a new pair of clothes, deodorant, cologne, and opened up his ottoman to grab a fresh diap-

His face fell.

Aaron kept all of his diapers boxed up in an ottoman at the foot of his bed. He'd grabbed the last diaper from one of the boxes this morning, thinking the others were full. They were not.

He didn't know what to do. Aaron ordered all of his diapers online. Even with same-day shipping, they weren't getting here until tomorrow. His next class was in person; he didn't have time for that! His best bet was to head to the nearest store to buy some generic pull-ups, but there was still the problem of his full diaper. He'd worn diapers for so long now that going out in underwear wasn't an option. He could try to use the potty before he left, but with his stomach in turmoil, there was no telling if he'd still have an accident. His heart sank when he realized that not only was he going to have to go out in a filthy diaper, but he also needed to pee again.

The only outfit Aaron owned that was loose enough to hide his diaper bulge was a pair of loose joggers and an oversized T-shirt. They didn't really match, but more importantly, they were light-colored. There was no hiding it if he leaked. He checked himself in the mirror, hyper-focusing on his bottom. You really couldn't tell unless you were looking really hard...or if you smelled him. He tried his best to cover up the smell with cologne, but that almost seemed to make it worse. He was just going to have to not stand close to anyone.

He opted to walk to the store for obvious reasons. He couldn't focus on driving and not squishing his diaper. The walk to the store wasn't far, but it sure felt like it with every crinkling, squishy step he took. He hoped the sound of cars driving past would cover up the sound, and the nearby dumpsters could take the blame for any lingering smells. He couldn't stop thinking about how much his poop had spread around in his diaper. It was smushed into every crevice and felt like cold mud on his bottom. He knew his shirt was long enough to cover his bottom, but he felt like if his pants fell even a centimeter someone would catch sight of his toasted marshmallow bottom.

Aaron breathed a sigh of relief when he finally reached the store. Despite his anxiety,  no one had seemed to notice his predicament. Or if they did, no one had pointed it out. His mind began to calm as he walked the store aisles, and by the time he grabbed the pull-ups, he felt okay enough to change in the store bathroom, as long as it was empty. Maybe they had a family bathroom he could use? If that was the case, he figured he should grab some wipes. He blushed, thinking about how big of a mess he had made and how he couldn't wait to get clean.

As he walked out of the diaper aisle with his supplies, he felt his stomach drop. Instinctively, his hand reached back to cover his bottom, and a splortch echoed off the linoleum walls. He felt eyes on him, but he was too focused on holding back a flood, his body trembling as he strained. He had just let out a handful of mushy diarrhea into his diaper, and he could tell there was more to come. He stayed there until he felt safe enough to move, then carefully made his way to the checkout aisle. His tummy rumbled angrily and his bottom hurt from holding it in, but there was no way he could go right now. He approached the self-checkout and whined anxiously when he saw the line. It wasn't that long, but his stomach thought otherwise. People could hear it groan audibly, and he tried his best not to make eye contact with any of them. By the time it was his turn, he could feel the whole store staring at him, the anxiety making his situation worse. He tried to focus on scanning; he only had two items. He just had to scan them, pay, and then he could run to the bathroom and use his diaper in peace—

PHBLARTCH

It was so loud it caught Aaron off guard, and he was pushing out another load before he knew what was happening. He let out an involuntary grunt of pain and effort as muck poured from his bottom and joined his previous mess. His knees shook as he pooped, and he gripped the register to balance himself. His body took that as a signal to keep going, and his bottom let out another wave of diarrhea. Of course, it was too much for his diaper to handle, and he felt the explosion before he heard it. Liquid brown spilled out of the leg holes  of his diaper and ran down his legs, staining his light-colored pants. When he pooped again, everyone saw it bubble out of his diaper and travel down the sullied parts of the fabric. Aaron tried not to think of all the eyes on him as he painfully soiled his diaper for the second time that day. He felt his phone buzz in his pocket, reminding him that he had a class in a bit.

He definitely wasn't going to make it.

"I swear Ellie, if your going to keep wetting yourself like a baby, then I'm going to put you in diapers like one." Ellie's mother scolded as she unfolded a large adult diaper, laying it out on the sofa and beckoning her daughter to sit on it.

Ellie blushed furiously as her panties were roughly yanked off.

"Mom! No. I don't need diapers. It's just an infection or stress or something." Ellie protested, laying down on the sofa. Her displeasure was in fact an act. Unbenowest to her mother Ellie had finally achieved her goal of being put back in diapers. She had been staging 'accidents' for a week now, careful to wet her pants only in the presence of her mother. She didn't want her friends finding out about this. It was an extreme solution to achieving her aim but Ellie didn't know how to speak to her mother about her secretive desires.

Ellie's mother proceeded to diaper her daughter for the first time since she had been a baby.

"Well, I've bought a whole package of these adult diapers for you. You are going to wear every single one of them before I let you wear panties like a big girl again. That's if you can stay dry. If you're still wetting by the time we get to eng of the package. I'll be buying you more. Understood?“

Ellie nodded to her Mother's ultimatum. Internally she was grinning, she had no intention of remaining dry over the next couple of weeks.

"Another thing. Baby girls don't wear grown up clothes."

Ellie gasped and struggled for real this time as her mother stripped her naked, depriving her of even her bra, leaving her nude, aside from her diaper.

"I've ordered some adult onsies online but until the arrive you'll be toddling around in just your diapers sweetie. Don't be embrassed. Little babies who aren't embrassed about wetting themselves also aren't ashamed of being nakey."

Fertility rates had been plummetting for decades. It wasn't only because people wanted fewer children, it was also because sperm quality had reached a critical low point. Children were still born here and there, but nothing approaching a global replacement rate. Fortunately, we'd fixed aging. Bodily and mental decline were things of the past which prevented society from collapsing.

Of course, in a society of only adults, having children became highly prized. To fix that issue, every year the people turning 21 were offered to go through state-sponsored regression. Using the same technology used to keep the rest of the population young and able, the minds of the volunteers were youthened to that of a two-year-old while keeping all their personality and memories intact.

Maggie had always wanted to be a princess ever since she'd been a little girl. Growing up, she didn't mind telling people that she wanted to be regressed once she turned 21. But then came beer and boys and various interests like painting and reading and psychology and suddenly getting regressed seemed a lot less interesting. By the time she turned 21, she was in a serious relationship. The boy in question was very open to her ABDL tendencies and babying her. They had talked at great lenghts about the possibility of Maggie being adopted by him. But, they agreed, they needed someone to be the mommy. Maggie was anxious about how enthusiastically her boyfriend seemed to search for a romantic partner that wasn't her and how quickly she came into the picture. She was a long-time friend of both of them and very soon the dynamic was put in place and an appointment for Maggie's regression was scheduled.

It was quick and painless, a few injections here and there that would only need upkeep every week until her situation became stable.

Losing her continence was wonderful, but slowly getting dumber felt a lot scarier. Thankfully, Mommy and Daddy were there to take care of her. They loved each other very much, but most of all, they loved her. Nothing can be scary when Mommy blows raspberries on your tummy! Getting picked up and carried everywhere, wearing pretty dresses and pink all the time, Maggie definitely felt like a princess.

Photo credit: @sophiexxlittle

For more stories by me: https://reamstories.com/babywriter

Messy Caption Index

@babyclaire​ recently requested a list of messy content, and so here it is at last! It’s probably not exhaustive, but I hope the links are useful anyway. I’ll try to get together a messy story index too before long!

Keiko and the Bully

Showtime for Daphne

Baby Cassie at Play

Tessa’s Tribulations

Daphne’s Latest Patient

Auntie’s Little Stinker

Odette and Odile

Carmen’s Conditioning

One Dirty Date with Darren

Messy Training Tips

Baby Beckie

Sophie Makes a Stinky

Dreams of a Dirty Dolly

Betty’s the Boss

An Icky Orgasm for Ellie

Naomi’s Bet

Life with Auntie

Angel Dreams

Sheila and the IMP

Tiffany’s Tummy

A Date with Erika

Mona’s Messmaker

A whiff of powder. The quiet chorus of crinkling plastic. The shiver-inducing sensation of her fingertips grazing his most intimate regions. And then, amid this incongruous sensory medley came her voice: sweet, loving as ever, but with a new note of amused condescension.

"Honey, you know the rule. You made it yourself, remember?" Blair was smiling softly as she tugged at the cotton-and-plastic layers beneath her husband's naked groin. "Oh, don't think I blame you. You're absolutely right that sheets are pricey, and mattresses more so. So it only makes sense that we take care not to ruin them..."

Felix groaned softly, but there was no way he could deny the truth of her words. He had been a bit of an ass about her periods when she'd had her first few nocturnal leaks. He might have been half-joking when he'd first grumbled about how the bloody stains wouldn't ever come out, and how she really ought to wear something more protective than a flimsy little pad. But the joke had taken on a life of its own when he'd happened to notice that pack of "adult briefs" in the supermarket and impulsively thrown it into the cart with a chuckle. "Dare you to wear them," he'd chortled when she'd protested at how unfunny his joke was. "I mean, if you can't control your own bodily fluids it only makes sense, right?"

It was Blair's turn to giggle now as her hands slipped dexterously down over his vulnerable crotch, pausing to linger affectionately on his respectably-sized cock. "Sure, I admit it. I guess it was a hard ask at first when you said I ought to wear some better protection during my periods. But you know, you ended up being so right, honey! If we can't control our own bodily fluids and keep from damaging the sheets and mattress, we just need to use a bit of protection, don't we? And just like we're not going to ruin our mattress through my periods, we're also not about to ruin them through your, ahem, wet dreams..."

"But- but- they don't stain as much-" "Staining isn't the problem, honey," Blair reminded him, her smile widening as she felt his vulnerable cock stirring into life under her rhythmic ministrations. "It's the principle of the thing! Why should I have to waddle off to bed in a diaper for a week every month, while you get to lay there in your boxers and spurt jizz into our sheets with no protection whatsoever – and no consequences?" She smirked and tweaked his nose playfully. "And here I thought you believed in gender equality, honey!"

It was all very well to joke about it. She didn't need to tell Felix how she'd begun to feel the oddest attachment – attraction, even – to these bulky undergarments. She didn't need to confess to him that, horny as she often got during the latter days of her period, she now felt more excited than ever when she felt that thick bulk tucked between her thighs and cupping her pussy. And she definitely didn't need to tell him that she was already getting wet now: aroused by the irreplaceable sight of her tough husband hiding his face in shame at the powdery humiliation she was gently forcing upon him...

No, of course not. All she needed to do was laugh and tease him into blushing submission.

"What's good for the goose is good for the gander, they say!" she laughed, and was rewarded with a groan of mingled arousal and embarrassment as she forced his involuntarily stiffening member down into the powdery padding beneath him. "Don't worry, babe – you can dribble and cum all you want to now! You'll be wrapped up safe and snug, just like me...

"Now isn't that great?"

Image Credit: ABDreams.com

Please don't remove my caption or accreditation! As long as you don't, may the baseboards along your walls never again need dusting.

Like this caption? Want to read my longer stories? Check out my Patreon! :-)

A while back I talked about making a diaper audio…. And here is my first attempt! 

I hope you enjoy the experience of wetting your pants in front of me - when it’s not the first time.

Apologies for the rough editing.  If you all enjoy this sort of thing, I’ll edit my next one better.  Let me know what you think!

How it all started...

It’s crazy actually sitting down and thinking about this. I’m in a place I never thought I’d be, with someone I’d never thought I’d be with, and in a community I never thought I’d be a part of.

I was a vanilla all my life, up until recently. Never used any type of toys during sex. Never had an orgasm. Never came. When it came to sex, my partner(s) never really tried, and only looked to fulfill their own release. Looking back, honestly it seems pretty pathetic and sad. I never really had someone who fulfilled what I needed not only physically, but emotionally as well.

I had a few relationships, but none of them resulted in anything positive. All were extremely toxic. I was cheated on, controlled, manipulated. My views on love were completely morphed into something I never pictured it to be. It became ugly. And i told myself that ifTHIS truly was what love was, I wanted nothing to do with it.

After feeling my lowest, I managed to escape the clutches of those emotionally abusive relationships; Those toxic relations that did nothing but drag me down and make me feel all types of emotions that true love should not involve. I knew I had to leave, and that I deserved better. I deserved more than that. And thankfully…my little came into the picture just when I was about to give up.

I didn’t know he was into this type of community when I met him. In fact, I had no idea. Not a single clue.

We were friends for a long time before any of this had happened. We always made an effort to come to each other’s aid when we were at our lowest, and we needed it most…and I truly believe that that’s how we found each other.

I trusted him with all of my worries, my fears, and relationship secrets. He did the same with me. That wasn’t really something I was very open about to begin with.

I realized that the more I talked to him and told him, the more I saw how patient, understanding, and caring he was. He spoke with such conviction and his heart showed through his actions. I started to fall for him pretty hard and fast. One day, we admitted we started having feelings for one another. And that is where this whole induction started.

It all started with Halloween, and talking about our ideas about what we wanted to be.

“I’m going to be Jimmy Fallon for Halloween.” “OMG you should go as Sara. You would look so good lmfao.” “Psssh, I’m the type of person that can buy a pack of depends for a baby costume and rock the FUCK out of them.”

I didn’t think he meant anything by that. We laughed and we talked. We became closer and closer by the minute. He began to disclose a lot of secrets. Really personal, raw emotions. And I think that made me fall for him even more. He let himself become completely vulnerable to me. And that’s when he said it…

“I’m an ABDL.”

Someone I knew, or at least I thought I knew had a secret life; A fetish that a lot of people do not understand and discriminate against BECAUSE they don’t understand.

I thought that this would cause me to be up in arms, but it didn’t. I looked at him while he was pouring his heart out to me, and saw the truth and longing in his eyes to be loved and cared for. I felt the most alive I’ve felt in months…I felt like we could help each other.

…and I was right.

The next few days after that, all I could think about was our conversation. I looked up videos. I looked up punishments. I watched documentaries on the psychological reasons one may have this fetish. I actually (as pathetic as it sounds) started a notebook with all important information that would come in handy later (I.E., type of diapers that crinkle the loudest, toys that could be used for punishments, etc). I did everything in my power to understand and accept something so mysterious, and foreign to me. But that is what made me so intrigued.

It was exactly that; foreign. A lot of things would change once I accepted the role of becoming his mommy…and would challenge me as a vanilla, hardly knowing anything about any of this due to lack of experience.

Could I handle it? Would i be good enough? Would I fit into this community?

I remember after talking about it for a little, there was one rainy day where he came over and I was laying on my bed. He opened the door to my room and walked over just to lay right on top of me. I began running my fingers through his hair and kissing his forehead while he snuggled into me. When I reached down to rub his lower to upper back, I remember hearing it for the first time. *crinkle*. It was music to my ears for so many reasons. I looked at him and without hesitation, I instantly smiled and kissed him as hard as I possibly could.

There are so many people who do not understand and judge in today’s world. People criticize others for not fully grasping or understanding differences. There is such a risk in being open and raw and real.

Looking at my little gives me such a huge amount of joy, and makes my heart so full. I see him in his most vulnerable state. I get to hold him in my arms while his eyes get heavy and he can barely stay awake. I get to kiss him and tickle him, and shower him with all of the love I had to offer but held back for so long.

It is so refreshing to have something as real as this. So intense in so many fucking aspects. He aims to please me, he aims for my approval, and he aims to make me happy. He takes the time to make sure I get mine, and we constantly test each other’s limits. It makes everything so extremely passionate, and aggressive, and intense. I have never had this type of love or loved someone the way I do my little.

I am so (beyond) happy that he told me and opened up to me about this…something that he said can easily scare a person off or freak someone out. This didn’t do either for me. If anything, this brought us so much closer. It’s real. It’s something very, very fucking real. And I’m happy I get to share something so intimate with someone so special to me.

I never thought I’d play this role…ever.

But there is something about the innocence in this that amazes me. The way he looks when he has his paci in his mouth and his onesie on. The way he looks when I give him a bubble bath, and how he happily splashes in the bath tub. The way he shakes his cute little butt when I put on a fresh diaper with baby powder.

There is something about standing over him while he shakes from my teasing him, something about the way I make him moan, and something about the way he whimpers and whispers that he wants to fuck me that I will never get tired of. I love this feeling of being control.

I absolutely adore being a mommy…but mostly, I adore being his.

xx