Kinkyberen - Kinkyberen

Just chilling in Amsterdam for a few days. Luckily some of the sex shops have cute diapers for me to wear so I don't pee my pants!

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.

The big mistake story

I love my new oneasy

“So, you’re an ABDL. Ok. That’s why I’m here. You’re telling me you want a mommy and a daddy to take care of you, that whole thing. Fine. I’ll grant you your wish. No, there’s no twisting your words, you won’t be an actual baby, so you will be able to enjoy this. No, your mommy and daddy won’t be your actual parents, yes they’ll be about your age, well maybe a little older and they will be attractive, don’t worry. Yes, I’m aware you want them to be sexy young things themselves, you pervert. They’ll find you cute, obviously. They’ll be thrilled to have you as their baby for as long as you please. You won’t need a job, though you can get one if you want. You’ll be free to be an adult as much or as little as you want. Now, tell me this doesn’t sound like a sweet deal? Yeah, I figured you’d like it.

So here’s the price. Nothing unexpected, nothing crazy, just a simple logical follow through of your wish getting fulfilled. Diapers? Yeah, those are going to be mandatory. You’ll be a bedwetter and you will have accidents during the day, that’s par for the course. And you’ll never change yourself ever again. Those could be good things, bad things… that’s for you to judge. You’ll become desperately addicted to your blankets, stuffies, whatever your comfort item may be. You’ll need it everywhere like a two-year-old, be prepared for that. You will go back to either the bottle or the breast and you will get addicted to that as well. Only a pacifier will be able to soothe you in between. You will also be able to cry like a baby, which means the emotional control of a baby. You’ll need naps and you’ll throw tamper tantrums in spite of your better judgement. Most importantly, and I assume this is the only thing that might actually dissuade you, it will be revealed to the world that you are an ABDL. You won’t be able to hide it. You can try, but your caregivers won’t. You’ll get baby talked and your diaper will be checked. It’s inevitable. Then, again, if you want as an add-on, I can make you a carefree and mentally regressed adult. You’ll still be out to the world, but at least you won’t care.

Do you want to go through with this deal?”

Photo credit: @babybelle1

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

“I really enjoyed going out with you tonight.” you said.

“Me too.” she replied. “And thanks for the lift.”

“You’re welcome.”

As the two of you stayed silent in the car, you were thinking of going for a kiss. Something to sweeten the evening and complete the perfect date.

“Would you like to come in?” she asked. A surprise to be sure, but a welcomed one. Suddenly, your hopes became a bit more ambitious than a kiss.

You two went inside. It was a sparsely decorated, but clean apartment. 

“Make yourself at home. I just need to feed the fish. Fishy! Fishy! Fishy!”

You thought it was cute how she would bend over and coo and talk to the fish as if they were kittens. As you looked at her, you saw that her shirt had pulled a bit. And that, because she was bending, her jeans had slipped a tiny bit. All that to say, you could see her underwear. Pristine white, surprisingly big… and Oh. My. God. That’s a diaper. You were dating a diaper girl. Now you were really getting your hopes up. It was such a thick diaper. Worst case scenario must be that she’s incontinent or something. 

You were so busy trying to calm yourself down and reel yourself from the discovery that you hadn’t realized that she’d gone quiet. She wasn’t cooing at the fish anymore, she was straining to relieve herself. Letting out, every so often, a low-pitched moan that meant the was putting in some effort. No need to worry, you were going to find out her present for you soon enough.

Photo credit: Alyssa from DiaperedOnline.com

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

Such a naughty little baby, now you can pout all you want as you fill your diaper in bed

Safe and Sound, an ABDL Story by CradleQuill (Reupload)

Disclaimer: All content is fictional, consensual, and intended only for mature audiences. All characters depicted are adults aged 18+ _

You woke up in a wet bed next to your partner. You were so ashamed. You hadn't wet the bed since you were a little kid. Your cheeks burned hot as you shook your partner awake, and he looked at you with sleepy, confused eyes.

"What is it, baby?" He asked.

You couldn't meet his gaze. Each time you glanced at him for more than a millisecond, your eyes darted away and looked toward the bed in shame. He placed his hand gently beneath your chin and drew your eyes to meet his. "Baby, whatever it is, you can tell me."

That was when he noticed the wetness. You'd soaked the sheets completely, his side of the bed included. He patted the bed, feeling the dampness left by your little accident. He offered a half-smile.

"It's okay, honey," he told you. "These things happen. There's no need to be embarrassed; it's really not a big deal." You leaned into his shoulder, and he pulled you into an embrace. He was so kind, so understanding. He was always such a prince.

You both undressed the sheets together, and he threw them in the wash while you tended to the stain. You knew he was right. It was just a one-off occurrence, and these things happened sometimes. You probably had too much to drink the night before. It wasn't like it was going to happen again.

And it didn't, at least not at first. But a week went by, and then another, before you woke up with wet sheets once again. He was just as understanding as the first time, but you were even more embarrassed. And you swore you could hear a hint of concern in his voice. He probably thought there was something wrong with you. He even asked if you were having nightmares, to which you responded no, you hadn't been.

Over the following month, the bedwetting became a more and more common occurrence. At first, it was just once or twice a week. But then, slowly, it progressed to three or four times. You were waking up wet more than half the week. One day, you came home from work and found a mattress protector on the bed. Your boyfriend was kind, he didn't mention it. And you didn't either because you knew it was for the best. You really did need it.

But the bedwetting didn't stop, and the mattress protector could only help so much. You could see it on your boyfriend's face; he was growing tired of waking up to a soggy bed and a sobbing girlfriend. If he even saw you that way anymore. Lately, he hadn't wanted to be sexual with you, and you couldn't blame him. Who would want to sleep with a bedwetter?

Each night, you grew more and more depressed, knowing you'd wake up with wet sheets once again. Until one night, your boyfriend stopped you as you were getting ready for bed. "Honey, we need to talk," he said. Those words struck fear in your heart and sent a sinking feeling through your chest.

You immediately began apologizing. "I'm sorry," you said. "Please, I know the bedwetting has been a huge problem. I'm sorry. I'll get it under control, I promise! Please just don't break up with me…"

He looked stunned at your sudden outburst. "Honey, nobody's breaking up with anyone, I promise." He guided you to the bed and sat you down next to him. "You're right that the bedwetting has been a problem, baby girl, but I won't leave you over it. I just need you to trust me. Can you do that for me, love?"

With tears fighting to escape your eyes, you simply nodded. He entered the closet and returned with a bright pink package of something you didn't initially recognize. Until he tore open the back and pulled out what was unmistakably a pull-up, like the ones for potty training. You couldn't keep the tears from flowing.

"I know, baby," he said. "I know it's embarrassing, but I think you need them. They'll help keep you dry. And look, these ones aren't for little kids; they're for bedwetters just like you. I promise this doesn't change how I feel about you. You just need some protection at night."

It took several minutes for the tears to subside, but you knew he was right. You needed this, and you did trust him, now more than ever. You stood up and slid down your pants and panties while he held the pull-up open at the sides. You stepped into the childish undergarment, and your boyfriend pulled it up nice and snug around your hips. At first, you felt a hot pang of shame hit your cheeks, but that sensation soon faded into something else. You felt… safe.

That evening, your boyfriend tucked you into bed and held you all throughout the night. You were the little spoon, and you felt his crotch rub up against your padded bottom. Each time it did, you felt that same pang of embarrassment wash over you as chills ran down your spine, but he didn't seem to notice. Eventually, you fell asleep.

When you woke, you immediately felt the back of your pajamas and all around your sides, but there was no wetness to be found. The pull-ups, or "Goodnites" as they were called, worked perfectly. You slipped your hand down the front of your pajamas and felt the soaked padding beneath your private parts. When you felt the padding, a jolt of electricity hit you, and your legs quivered. You were… turned on by this. There was no way you could ever admit it, but you knew it was true, no matter how much you didn't want it to be.

Quietly and slowly, so as not to wake your boyfriend, you began rubbing the padding between your legs. Little sparks of pure bliss tickled along your spine, and your mouth fell agape as you breathlessly wanted to moan. You didn't want to wake your boyfriend, but you couldn't stop. You just kept rubbing, and soon enough, you began arching your back and tensing your legs.

As you finished in your soaking wet pull-up, you looked over at him, still sleeping, unaware of how naughty and pathetic his girlfriend was behaving right next to him, all while sharing his bed, no less. He stumbled awake a few minutes later while you sat there in your shame. He found you there, still in bed, still in a puddle that was at least contained to your diaper this time.

"How did it go, sweetheart?" He asked. You looked at him with sad eyes but didn't answer. He felt around your butt and found no wetness, so without even asking, he checked the front of your pull-up with his large, stern hands. The moment he gripped the front of your diaper and gave it a good squeeze, you let out a little gasp as you heard the padding squish in his grip.

"It looks like these held up well," he said while rubbing the front of your padding. He had no idea what he was doing to you, but he was turning your brain into absolute mush. You wanted to say something, anything to make him stop. But then, when he finally did, you found yourself desperate for more. You'd already made yourself cum in your soaked pull-ups, but something ached within you to have him rub you until you arrived once again.

That was the beginning of your new, babyish routine. The few dry nights a week you had dwindled into nothing until you were soaking yourself every day. Each night, he'd help you into your pull-ups. And each morning, you'd wake before him, giving you just enough time to rub yourself in your squishy diapers. The danger of having him catch you and seeing how pathetic you truly were only turned you on more. You were losing yourself in your padding, and the worst part was you didn't want it to stop. It was consuming you, and all you wanted was to sink deeper.

The longer this went on, the more you'd wet, until your pull-ups couldn't hold all your pee anymore. Waking up in a soaked diaper and a wet bed made you feel even more like a helpless baby. And your boyfriend didn't stand for it long. Over the weeks, he'd started talking down to you like a child. So when he showed you your new thick, tape-on diapers with a silly design all over them, you couldn't even act surprised.

The thicker padding kept your sheets dry, even with your larger accidents. But they posed their own problems. Your boyfriend wasn't just helping you step into them anymore. Now, he was laying you on the bed, pulling the padding up between your legs, and taping you into your glorified baby diapers. And every time he changed you into one, you couldn't help but get wet in a different way. You knew he noticed it, but he never said anything, which confused you even more.

And with how thick these diapers were, you couldn't make yourself cum in them just by rubbing the front anymore. You would have had to slip your hand down the front. But your boyfriend taped them up so tight, and they were so crinkly, you were too afraid to try it. So each morning, you'd just sit in bed humping against your hands and not even finishing before he began stirring awake.

One day, while he was changing you into your diaper, your boyfriend stopped with your diaper still untapped. He looked at you, gazing lovingly into your eyes, and you could tell he wanted to say something. "What is it?" You asked.

"Honey," he said, taking a second to pause, as if to carefully consider his words. "I've noticed that your diapers… turn you on." There was no hint of judgment in his eyes, but the shame washed over you all the same. You hid your face in your hands and started crying as he hushed you and cooed at you.

"Baby, baby, it's okay. I don't mind it. I think it's kind of cute, honestly."

"Y-you do?" You managed to squeak out between sobs and sniffles.

He nodded. "Don't get me wrong, I didn't know what to make of it at first. I caught you rubbing them a few times, but I pretended to sleep through it. But lately, I've seen the way you hump your diapers in the mornings, and it's been turning me on, too, seeing you look so desperate like that. I never thought this would be something I was into… or that you'd be into. But here we are."

You couldn't speak. You kept asking yourself if you were in a dream as the world around you began to bob as if stuck in the current of a river. It was like you were a part of the world but distinctly separate from it at the same time. He smiled at you, seeing how desperate you were for him, how every inch of you begged him to come closer.

He left your diaper untapped and crawled into the bed and on top of you. He took the opportunity to slip inside you, and as he did, a burst of pee escaped your bladder and squirted all over him. He didn't turn away. He began thrusting repeatedly into you, and your eyes rolled almost into the back of your head. It was the best sex you'd ever had, and when he was done, he finished inside you and taped you up into your diaper. You could feel the mess he left there leaking out into the padding, along with a few more dribbles of pee.

He laid down next to you and pulled you into his arms. Every sensation in your body was euphoric. And as you stared into his eyes, they looked more soft and tender than they ever had before. "There there, baby girl. You did such a good job for Daddy, little one." The moment the words left his lips, that familiar static shock ran throughout your body, and you slipped further into a place that had been long lost to you, a headspace of complete comfort and quieted thoughts. You knew you wanted to be his little girl forever if you could, and as Daddy held you that night, you knew that the dynamic of your relationship had changed forever, but also for the better. _

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Omorashi/Desperation Stories & Captions

So I've heard recently that some of you would be interested in an index of the stories and captions I've written so far that have omorashi / desperation elements to them. I was actually surprised when I dug back through my archive and found that I haven't written quite as many in that vein as I first thought – a shortcoming that I'm really going to have to remedy!

Anyway, please just be aware that some of the stories on the list below have only a little bit of desperation, or have it mingled with hypnosis or messing or other adjacent kinky ideas. I hope the list is useful regardless. Enjoy!

P.S. A few folks have said they can't access links like those below, but I genuinely don't know why that might be or how to solve it. If anyone does know, feel free to drop some knowledge on me!

Stories:

A Hike with Daddy

When Duty Calls

When You Gotta Go

Decisions in the Dark

Three Good Reasons

Mile High Baby Part 1 | Part 2

Captions:

Aimee's Choice

Lucy in a Bind

Alysse's Padded Evening

Pretty Little Pull-Ups

Mrs. Stratford's New Babysitter Part V | Part VI | Part IX | Part X

Elsie's Thirsty

Bound Beauty

Competing with Naomi

Anya's New Maid

Daphne & Cara, Part XIV

Struggle, Baby, Struggle

Bedtime for Shana

Dirty Little Dolly

Wet for Charlie

Marisol's Big Mistake

Alyssa's Training, Part Two

Ellen's Initiation

Rosie the Pony Maid

A Weekend with Miss Sweeney

Welcome Home, Jared

Employee Training

“You still haven’t showered?” April asked. “They’ll be here in half an hour!”

I never understood why she felt the need to throw an ‘Easter’ party. That’s something done for families, not a bunch of her girlfriends. I refused to ask her about it, though. After all, it was she who made the rules around here.

“I’m sorry,” I said, hanging my head. “Got a little distracted.”

“Just hurry,” she sighed, frustrated, but still managing a smile. “How’s your diaper?”

“A little wet,” I shrugged, “seems a shame to waste…”

“It’s okay,” April giggled, “I got you some more yesterday. Pants down.”

There was a stirring in my crotch as I swiftly obeyed. I loved it when she’s firm like that. It makes me…well, firm. 

She squeezed the front of my soggy diaper, laughing a bit. “A ‘little’ wet,” she scoffed mockingly, quickly pulling the tapes off one by one until the diaper plopped to the floor with a dull, crinkly thump!

Her nails wrapped around my purple, swollen balls, jiggling my cage back and forth so that it clanked and rattled. “D’aww!! Poor wittle purple pee pee!” she cooed. 

My legs clenched together and I couldn’t help but let out a needy whimper. I know I asked to be caged, but I didn’t think April would have quite so much fun with it. Getting her to be more dominant towards me was a slow, and sometimes arduous process. It took a lot of communication for her to feel comfortable with the diaper thing. She always felt a little uneasy, like she was doing something wrong, or not enough. But once I brought up chastity play, everything sort of clicked–no pun intended. Suddenly she had motivation. She had stakes. Things she could use to both torment me and get me to do things I otherwise wouldn’t want. 

She picked the yellowy pink diaper up off the floor, balling it up and taping it into a compact orb.

“Shower. Now.” She told me in her stern voice, “No funny business. I need you in and out pronto!” She gave me a sharp smack on the ass to get me moving. I yelped, scampering down the hallway. But she didn’t give me the diaper. She usually always makes me handle the diaper. Come to think of it, she hadn’t made me throw my own diaper away in quite some time. 

As I made my way down the hall, a wall of stench practically smacked me in the face. The laundry room just so happened to be where we kept my used, soiled diapers. A quick glance inside showed the diaper bin absolutely overflowing. No wonder it stunk so bad. My little creations were starting to become quite ripe outside of the plastic of the diaper genie. I pinched my nose, leaning over to get them back in the bag so they could stop smelling up the house, I didn’t exactly want April’s friends getting a whiff of my–

“I’ll handle that.” April said, scaring the bejeezus out of me. I jumped, startled. She stood behind me in the doorway, arms crossed. “Let it get a bit full, did we?”

I knew she was talking about me letting it become overflowing. It is my job to take it out when it gets bad, but I honestly didn’t realize it had gotten this far.

“I’m sorry!” I apologized again. Usually this kind of thing led to a firm spanking, which I wasn’t exactly in the mood for right now, but she just shrugged nonchalantly.

“It’s okay, silly babies can’t always remember their responsibilities. I’ll take care of it. Now. Get. In. The. Shower!”

I bustled off before she could change her mind. What has gotten into her? I could hear her fussing with the crinkles of the diapers and plastic before I flicked on the water. I kept it cold to ease my aching balls, but soon turned it back to hot to relax my nerves. I always get a little anxious when April’s friends are coming over. All of them are so bright and beautiful. It’s hard to be in their presence without getting a little…flustered. April knows it too, that’s why she invites them over as much as she can.

I found myself getting a little worked up again. This fucking itch throbbing inside my cage that was impossible to scratch. I squirted a little body soap into my hand, making sure to keep the water from washing it away. I reached behind me and coated my crack with it, gently pressing my finger into my little button. Putting something up my ass would not have been my first choice at the moment, but since I didn’t have another option, I figured this had to be the next best thing. The soap made it burn a bit, but I didn’t care, this was the only way I could get a bit of relief...or maybe it was just working me up more. I quickly worked a second finger in and was pumping them in and out of my ass when the shower curtain ripped back.

“Whatcha doin?” April grinned. I quickly straightened and popped my fingers out, but it was obvious I was caught in the act. “I told you: no funny business!”

I stuttered as I grasped for an excuse, but none came. I was in big trouble.

But once again, she didn’t seem to mind. “Get out and dry off.” she said, tossing me a towel. “Your clothes are on the bed.”

She left without another word. 

I was waiting for her to reappear around the corner with her hairbrush or a paddle. Perhaps this was a late April Fool’s joke (again, no pun intended). She was lulling me into a false sense of security only to really bring it on later. But nope, nothing. I tiptoed through the house with trepidation. Turning into the bedroom, I immediately stopped in my tracks.

Laid across the bedspread was a frilly little dress. It was canary yellow with accents of pink and white fringe. 

Next to it was a diaper I’d never seen. It was, admittedly, quite cute, with pink and purple accents and stars around a little bunny on the front.

“Do you like it?” April asked, startling me once again.

“I…yes.” I confessed. I really did. “But not for today.”

“Why not? It’s Easter!” she proclaimed.

“But your friends are coming over.”

“So what? They know you wear diapers and dresses.”

I gulped at that, flushing in shame. I wasn’t particularly proud of the fact that her friends were in on my little secret, but it was one of the stipulations for April to agree to the whole ‘diaper’ thing. 

“Ok, fine.” I sighed, changing tactics, “But they’ve never seen me in diapers and dresses.”

“Sure they have.” April said simply.

My stomach dropped again. “What??”

April laughed and rubbed my naked shoulder affectionately. “Honey…you don’t think I could tell them something like that and not show them a few pictures, do you?”

I shivered in shame, or was that just a very violent cringe? I decided not to ask her which ones she showed them. I was better off not knowing.

“They thought the video of you twirling in your sundress was adorable!” she told me with a smile. “They also think you’re cuter than Ella.”

Oh god. 

Ella was what April liked to call my sissy ‘gurlfriend’. We have gotten together for quite a few…playdates. Oh fuck! I hope she didn’t show them videos of me and Ella–

“On the bed, sweetheart.” April said, patting the mattress and picking up the diaper. “We need to get you ready!”

******

“Aren’t you the cutest!!” Daisy cooed, pinching my cheeks.

“The pigtails are just adorbs!!” Brooke admired, curling them in her fingers.

Lily laughed, “Is his diaper wet? I wanna see his diaper!!”

They all turned to April expectantly, who just smiled like a proud mother. “Show them, sweetheart.”

It seemed like a pointless endeavor, the bottom of my diaper could easily be seen beneath my dress, but the girls–including April–relished in my humiliation. So I obliged them, lifting the hem of my skirt and exposing my diaper to their ooo’s and aaahhh’s.

“Is he wet?”

“I think so!!”

“Already?” April asked, aghast, “I just changed him!”

Like 30 minutes ago. I thought, as if that would save my dignity. I had plenty of room left though, there was no need to change me. 

“There’s no need to change him right now,” April said to my relief. Having my diaper open and exposed in front of four beautiful women would be quite humiliating. If only I knew what was to come…

“Is it time for the Egg Hunt yet?” Daisy asked impatiently. 

April’s smile looked a little too mischievous for my taste. “It sure is!”

They made me get down on my hands and knees, shepherding me along until I made it to the backdoor. The light burned my eyes as the sunlight peeked through the open door. If it weren’t for my thigh-high stockings, the concrete of the patio would have scraped up my knees. 

“Today is a special day for you, sweetheart!” April said, “You get the chance to have your cage unlocked!!”

My ears perked up, suddenly I became much more attentive. 

Lily brandished a woven Easter basket—a rather large Easter basket—setting it down in front of me. 

“I have hidden the key in one of your used diapers.” April explained, “and have hidden those diapers around the yard.”

Scanning the landscape, I started to notice hints of white, colorful, taped-up diapers scattered around. I didn’t have long to look though, my attention was quickly drawn to Brooke and Daisy pulling my arms behind my back. There was a clinking of chains, and soon my wrists were cuffed together. To make matters worse, I felt my hands being stuffed inside of what I recognized to be locking mittens. 

“You have 10 minutes to gather as many ‘eggs’ as you can.” April explained. “Any eggs you fail to retrieve after the allotted time will be forfeited.”

I wanted to protest, to say something clever or ask questions that would get me an advantage, but before I could even utter a word, April had her phone out. 

“Your time starts…now!”

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Thank you to @misterwitts for providing such an awesome diaper pail photo, and for everyone who was kind enough to submit a photo. If you'd like to read the rest of this story, you can find it on my Patreon. Happy Easter, Ramadan, or whatever it is you choose to celebrate! Cheers!