"Oh, you like showing off your ass for me, don't you, you little slut?" Shane murmured, and his voice was low. Rough. Grating with barely suppressed, animalistic longing to claim her, taste her, make her his. The sort of voice Jenna had thought only existed in erotic novels, and never in real life…
Certainly never for a girl like her.
"Oh yeah, baby," he crooned now, his breath hot on her neck. "Go on, show me that ass. Show me that hot, incredible ass. Mmm, yeah. I bet you're super wet already for me down here, aren't you, you dirty girl?"
They both knew what he meant. Wet – in both ways. She couldn't deny the truth, and so she didn't even try. She simply flushed and nodded and shivered at his breathtaking touch, reveling in the feeling of being so completely, utterly wanted.
"You like showing off your ass for me, too, don't you? You beautiful little slut…" he murmured, and his hands were slipping suggestively up and down her rear, drifting ever further down between her thighs. Jenna caught her breath as the tips of his fingers momentarily brushed against the moist padding protecting her vulva, and she heard the smile in Shane's voice a moment later. "God, you're such a wet, dirty girl for me, aren't you?" he continued, and she nodded eagerly in sighing acquiescence. "Here's this padded little pussy down here, too. All nice and wet and ready for me to fill it up like it deserves…"
"Yes, yes please," she murmured, and she gasped as his palm descended with a stinging slap onto her bare thigh. "That's my horny girl," he commended, and then his fingers were pressing more insistently into the wet padding over her genitals. "That's my sweet little slut. Mmm… I bet you'd like me to fuck you right here and now, wouldn't you?"
"Uh-huh," she breathed, her face flushed with arousal and sheer exhilaration. No other man on earth had ever touched one of her sodden diapers and mouthed such words. No other person on the planet had ever before reminded her – not simply as some kind souls did, that she was "pretty" and "sweet" and "not at all broken" – but that she was hot as hell and a woman to be pleasured and coveted and lusted after.
Not in spite of being medically incontinent. Not even because of it. But because she was beautiful and incontinent and funny and lust-worthy all in one, with every separate aspect combining to make one completely whole and completely sensual human being.
"Why don't we get that pretty, padded ass into bed, hmm?" Shane was saying now, as she brought her momentarily distracted attention back to her lover and his caresses. "Why don't you show me just how much you want to be ridden from behind, hmm? Go on. Tell me how you need someone to ride you, babe. Tell me how much you need me to make you drip and cum and squirt like a horny little bitch-"
"Yes, ride me," she moaned, and she shuddered in pleasure even as she felt another familiar, hot spurt of urine – almost as if on cue – dribble involuntarily out of her. No matter. It was a biological function as ordinary as breathing, and something she'd had no control over these past seven years. But with Shane, she no longer needed to feel ashamed or embarrassed. Not in the slightest.
And so she repeated it: louder this time, as if nothing odd had even happened… because nothing had. "Ride me, honey. Please… I'm such a slut for you, such a wet, needy slut…"
Rational thought was evaporating now for both of them, vanishing like steam before the heat of their hormones and primal lust. But in those remaining moments of sanity, as they made their hurried way to the dark refuge of their bedroom, Jenna reflected gratefully that Shane was truly something special: as profoundly kind as he was sensual. And thanks to him, Jenna had never felt more valid – more special and yet so blessedly normal – than in this very moment.
Image Credit:@ukdiapergirls
Please don't remove my caption or accreditation, okay? Oh, and check out my Patreon here if you want to read more of my short stories!
CW: ABDL, MDLB, Threesome dynamic, light cucking
Despite being able to sleep in, my body’s internal clock woke me up at eight. I really did try to sleep in, so that I would have some sort of silver lining to loosing my job. I groaned as I lazily bounced myself off my air mattress. My hardwood apartment floor was mostly barren besides the air mattress, an old TV that I took from my parents, and two envelopes that sat at the feet of my door. One red, one white. The red one was anticipated but still disappointing, but the white one was elusively intriguing. I opened the red envelope and found exactly what I expected to find:
Mr. Zach Slider,
We regret to inform you that your monthly rent payment is now late. This marks the third consecutive month you have missed rent. As per Desperado Apartment management policy, you will be evicted. Please be ready to move out within the next ten business days.
Regards, management
I ripped the letter in two in a fit of frustration. The paper shreds floated to the floor where the white envelope sat. I glanced down towards it and was shocked out of my frustration. The first line of the return address held a familiar name: Claire Elise. The same Claire Elise that used to be my girlfriend. The same Claire Elise that discovered that she was, in fact, gay two years into our relationship. We were friendly, but didn’t exactly do a great job keeping in touch besides a few birthday texts and other miscellaneous minor exchanges. All the more reason why this correspondence was strange.
I tentatively scooped the envelope up, and carefully opened it; there were two paper notes inside. One was a thick blue card with large, machine-printed bubble letters that read, “It’s Birthday Time, and You’re invited! 🥳🎉”
The second piece of paper was a piece of stationary paper swimming with beautiful handwritten cursive, Claire’s beautiful handwritten cursive:
Dear Zach,
I hope you’re doing well, but I’ve heard through the grapevine that you’ve fallen on some hard times. With that in mind, my girlfriend and I have a very special proposition for you that I think you’ll find interesting. I’d love to see you at my birthday party, so that we can catch up and discuss! Between loosing your job and getting kicked out of your parents’ house, I’m sure cash is tight, so we’ll reimburse you for the road trip to our house. I hope to see you soon!
Love, Claire.
That note was strange for a couple of reasons: firstly, I knew her girlfriend. Her name was Lucy, and I was actually the one who introduced them in an ironic twist of fate’s knife. Second, Lucy and Claire must be doing well for themselves if they were offering to pay my way; I knew they made good money from their respective professions and investments, but still. I wasn’t sure if I should be insulted or grateful. Finally, Claire signed the letter “Love”. She hadn’t used that word in regards to me in at least a year and a half. Also, why was Claire being so vague about this proposition? A part of me wanted to ignore the letter, but I knew I couldn’t; I had already opened my phone to text Claire to let her know that I’d be there.
She responded almost immediately: “Awesome! No need to bring a gift btw”
The party was in a day, so I packed my TV and my deflated air mattress into my car, prepared to live out of my car for a few days. The road trip was only three hours, but the gas money was greatly appreciated. With some good music and some even better vibes, I found myself on Claire and Lacy’s doorstep in no time.
I took a deep breath to steady my nerves before I knocked. I knocked timidly. At first, I thought no one heard me, so I was about to knock again. Before I could, I heard Claire’s voice, “coming!”
The door swung open. Claire stood before me, wearing a gorgeous blue sparkling dress that complimented her dark brunette hair. Her crystal blue eyes regarded me with surprise at first. For a split second, I began to sweat with anxiety. Was that note somehow a mistake? Was I not supposed to be here? Before I could continue contemplating, Claire regained some semblance of composure, “Zach!” She pulled me into a hug, “I’m so glad you came! And you’re early.”
I could feel Claire’s full bodied curves, curves that I used to routinely explore in the dead of night. I cautiously returned her embrace, “yea sorry about that, but there wasn’t a time on my invitation.”
“Oh, sorry about that sweetie, I must’ve—“
“Who is it, honey?” Before she could finish, Lucy sauntered down the stairs to interrupt.
Before Claire could respond, Lucy answered her own question: “Oh it’s the little guy who couldn’t cum unless we told him how much of a good boy he was.”
I blushed. Organizing that threesome might’ve been one of the top 11 worst decisions of my life.
“I’m just kidding, Zach,” Lucy and Claire giggled together, “How are you doing, buddy?”
“Good,” I lied on instinct, “…or actually not great. I just got evicted from my place, so I’m hyped to forget about that and party the night away tonight!”
“Oh that sucks,” Lucy replied, casually flicking her fiery red locks out of her freckled face. Her emerald eyes anxiously darted to Claire and then back to me.
“Yea,” Claire agreed, “that actually reminds me of that proposition I mentioned in my note. Do you want to come sit at the kitchen table, so we can talk about it?”
“Sure,” I replied cautiously.
The kitchen was ornate in a homely kind of way; the light wood of the cabinets was polished and the marble countertops shimmered in the natural light that flowed through the windows.
“So,” Claire started, “do you have a plan now that you’ve been evicted and have lost your job?”
I looked to the table. Of course this was the first thing they wanted to talk about. Who were they, my parents?
“Not yet,” I admitted.
Lucy nodded, “then I think our proposition might interest you.”
“Totally,” Claire agreed, “the proposition involves you living with us as a sort of… roommate. And you’d get to live here rent free!”
I blinked. Why would they want me to live here rent free, “what’s the catch?”
Lucy chuckled, “what a clever boy you are.”
“Just keep an open mind,” Claire said, “and we’ll show you to your room and explain.”
I followed the pair of women up the stairs. We stopped at a room near the end of the hallway. Claire removed a key from her pocket and unlocked the door. Nothing could have prepared me for what I was about to see.
The room was a nursery, except it was massive. There was a massive white, wooden crib in the corner, a huge changing table in the opposite corner, and a large circular rug in the middle of the room that was decorated with trains, dinosaurs, and the ABCs. Stacks and stacks of adult diapers with childish prints sat under the changing table.
“Wha—“
“Ah ah,” Claire shushed me, “Let us explain before you say anything.”
I silently nodded.
“Good boy,” Claire continued, “Zach we know you’re kinky, and you know we’re kinky. Think of this like that: a fun little kink for all of us to enjoy. Plus, it’s a free place to stay and everything would be taken care of for you!”
“It’s a steal of a deal,” Lucy agreed.
“But… why?” Is all I could muster.
“Well,” Claire’s eyes sunk to the floor, “Lucy and I have been exploring some different things, and we came to the decision that this is what we want.”
“We want a little to care for and call our own, but neither of us felt quite right slipping into that role,” Lucy shrugged.
“But then we thought of the cutest submissive boy we both already know…”
“...Me?” I raised my eyebrows. It was true I tended to lean more to the submissive side, but this was definitely something new to me.
“We’re your friends,” Lucy added, “we want to help you out while helping ourselves at the same time, you know?”
“You work so hard just to get by,” Claire agreed, “and you’re such a sweet guy. Maybe it would be nice to let someone else take care of you for a change?”
“Maybe,” I muttered, trying my best to keep an open mind. Part of me wanted to take offense but a separate part of me was touched by their display of care and concern, albeit strange in nature.
“So what will it be Zach,” Claire smiled up at me, “will you be our baby?”
This is an old story originally featured on my old blog, Diapy Dragon, but I would like to continue/reboot it, so I’m posting it here.
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!
This is the start of a sequel to one of my longest commissions, "Dungeons & Diapers". It's written to work effectively as a standalone novel, but follows directly on the plot of the original work, which you can read here.
Also it's set in the Pathfinder 1e universe, not any DnD plane. Nyeh. You can't tell me what to do. ...
The smell of the Wizard’s destruction carried on the wind far past the edge of Verity, the eastern capital, long before the damage could be seen.
Sandra knew they were walking into trouble and danger of their greatest enemy’s doing. Her whole party knew it. The Wizard had caused them untold humiliations as an afterthought, and prolonged exposure to his magic had taught them the telltale signs. With one sniff of the air, they knew it was him.
The distinctive, sharp smell of baby powder left little room for misidentification.
Turning back in the saddle to look at her party, Sandra swished her tail, trying not to show any uncertainty. “If anyone wants to turn back, I understand. There’s no reason to throw ourselves into danger without cause.”
Quinn didn’t need to answer. The brawny half orc feared little, and even when he had trepidation, he kept it hidden for the others. His protective instinct didn’t break here, and he shook his head.
Tarja trembled on the horse next to Quinn, but not out of fear–rather, the curse that had degraded her fine motor control left her constantly shaking unless she could lie down, get on all fours, or briefly dispel the effects. Mounted on a saddle, she had to cling to the horn and let Quinn lead. She hardly looked like the most lethal Ranger Sandra had ever met, but when she was free of the curse, she could track, hunt, and aim a bow with legendary precision.
Even cursed as she was, she’d never back down from danger. Taking the effort to enunciate clearly, she said, “I’m no’ running.” Her words carried a slight lisp, like a toddler still struggling to make the letters come out right–another side effect of her curse.
Finally, Hadrian. The party’s own wizard, and their most thorough source of information on the Wizard’s magic. Clad in a latex bodysuit that bulged around his hips, and with a pacifier lodged between his lips that he couldn’t remove, he had the most visible curses of them all.
His gaze was on the horizon, hard and furious. He didn’t need to speak to communicate, not when his feelings were this clear.
They were going to Verity, no matter what had happened there, no matter the danger.
Sandra shifted in her seat again, noting a slight squelch beneath her pants. Her diaper was full–and now that she’d noticed, she picked up a slight foul stench mingling with the baby powder odor. The diaper would self clean before they got to the city, so it didn’t concern her much.
Still, it was a reminder of the Wizard’s lightest, least invasive curses–he’d stolen her potty training more than a year prior, and it had stayed stolen. If he led an assault against a city, she shuddered to think what he could have done to the populace.
It wasn’t long before they crested a rise and, finally, came into view of the city. Verity’s walls stood proud and unbreached, and most of the homes, businesses, and buildings seemed to be intact.
From one point, though, billowing clouds of white wafted up. Plumes of baby powder, shooting from a space where the great Temple of Calistria had once stood. Now, the structure seemed to be made of geometric pastels, twisted as a thousand child-safe squares of foam flooring had been frozen in the middle of an explosion.
Pulling up his mount next to Sandra, Hadrian gestured at his pacifier urgently. Reaching to the side, she pulled it free.
“Serendipity,” he said, “She’s–”
“In the temple,” Sandra finished. “I know.”
He didn’t wait for further words or confirmation, but spurred his horse onwards, galloping as fast as the mount would take him.
Sandra couldn’t blame him, even if she doubted there was much they could do. Hadrian had fallen head-over-high-heels with a priestess performer of the temple. He wouldn’t slow for anything while he knew she could be in danger.
The others followed soon after, matching Hadrian’s speed so they didn’t lose him on the road to Verity’s gates. As they grew closer, Sandra got a better look at the damage–she could make out distinct shapes, but the scale was all off. One side of a baby crib, bars painted pastel blue, seemed to be twenty feet long or more and hovered above the debris. An enormous mobile, so large that the plush toys dangling from it were to-scale with the animals those plushies resembled, spun slowly.
Contrasting with the openly juvenile elements, she also saw a large plug, tapered at the base, large enough that it could only be practically used by an elder dragon with a very particular set of kinks.
If Sandra had any doubts, that confirmed it. Only the Wizard of Paraphilia would mix infantile and erotic objects with such a tasteless disregard for dignity.
Hadrian was babbling at the gate–literally, his pacifier had returned in the fifteen minutes it’d taken to ride there–and Sandra had to pull up next to him and address the guards. “We’re working for the guild,” she said, leaning over to free her friend’s lips again. After removing the pacifier, she continued, “We have business with the Calistrians.”
“The temple’s…” one of the guards said, scratching his head as he looked them up and down, first at Hadrian’s pacifier and latex bodysuit, then at Quinn’s ample breasts, to Sandra, an elf with a dragon like tail that twitched to emphasize her impatience. At least they’d managed to clear up a couple of the more awkward things–Sandra could at least pull her clothes down to cover her diaper properly, hiding the perpetual peek she’d been stuck with for a while, and Quinn had managed to find a caster who could permanently revert his size back to normal. It could have been worse.
Shaking off his confusion, the guard explained, “Eh…the temple’s got wrecked like you all. Not sure you’ll be able to do any business there.”
“We can help,” Sandra insisted, sliding the guild seal from her pocket to show him. “Let us pass, quickly.”
Shrugging, the guard nodded and stood back, allowing the four of them to ride through the gates.
To Hadrian’s chagrin, they couldn’t just gallop up main street–Verity was a big enough city that, even with a crisis in plain view, life had to go on. Merchants had to sell their merchandise, beggars had to beg, scoundrels had to scound. Their horses helped them navigate up the streets more quickly, but she could see the frustration build on Hadrian’s face as they got closer and closer, stymied by the thick press of busy people in the streets.
Finally, they came into view of the temple, and Hadrian leapt free of the saddle. Stumbling on his heels for a moment, he ran across the cobblestone street, up to the place where the temple entrance had once stood.
The walls were replaced with the same pastel-painted slightly foam substance. Where there had once been grand doors decorated with symbols of Calistria, the Savored Sting, there was now a large flap, more akin to something an animal would use.
Sandra pulled up behind him, bringing her mount to a nickering stop, and said, “We need to use cauti–”
Hadrian ran in through the flap.
“Damn.” Sandra jumped down from her own horse, taking a moment to tie it off to the hitching post, dealing with Hadrian’s as well.
Quinn began to help Tarja down and deal with their own mounts as well, but Sandra stopped him.
“You stay out here.” Sandra said. “If this place has some effect on the people inside, we can’t all just rush in. If I’m not back in fifteen minutes, start finding a way to get Hadrian and I outside without any collateral damage.”
“Be safe, ‘Andwa,” Tarja lisped, before Sandra slipped under the flap, conjuring an umbral knife in her hands–she’d be ready for anything.
Inside, the grand hall of the temple had once been home to a massive stage, where scantily-dressed clerics would flaunt their goods in exchange for tithe. Calistria was a goddess of lust, after all, it made sense.
Now, where poles and stages had once been, cages and hard points floated in the air, trapping priests and worshipers alike. The sky could be seen above–the roof was floating far too high to fully shield from the elements, and the various bizarre structures Sandra had seen from afar loomed above them.
A foul smell hung in the air, the results of the curses and time that had warped the former holy place. Diapers were everywhere Sandra looked, wrapped around people of all genders and ancestries, most soiled to the point of leaking. Pacifiers, too, were a constant–held in place with leather and magic, so that the victims couldn’t spit them out, mumble, or even speak.
Some priests had their hands tied far above their heads, leaving them standing, desperate, unable to rest or relax. Sandra met their pleading eyes, though their words got distorted into helpless mumbling beneath their pacifiers.
She approached one. “Hold still,” she whispered, “Let me try…”
Reaching up, she touched the clasp holding the pacifier in place. She could plainly detect magic on it, and knew it had to be enchanted, but perhaps–
Her brain fogged for a moment, and she staggered back, falling to the ground. Her brain fuzzed, befuddled by magic. When she blinked and regained full control of her thoughts, she realized she’d begun suckling her thumb, and that her diaper–which had self cleaned not ten minutes prior–was suddenly sagging and full again, not that it could make the room smell any worse.
Shaking her head, Sanda stood, staggering for a moment before regaining her balance.
“I…” she said. “I’m sorry, I can’t help you.”
The priest’s eyes didn’t show understanding, just desperation to be free. Regretfully, Sandra looked around further, careful not to touch anyone.
Other priests were in their own predicament. Some, trapped in cages or cribs, were cuffed spread eagle. Still others sat on adult-sized rocking horses that never fell still, wrists tied to handles and feet to the base, forced to shift back and forth, squelching their diapers interminably. Going by the slight bzzz sound filling the air, Sandra guessed more than a few had toys inside their diaper, torturing them in other ways that couldn’t be seen as easily.
There were more restraints, too, in patterns and configurations she didn’t know. X-shaped crosses. Spanking benches–though, mercifully, she saw no enchanted paddles going to town. Two particularly unfortunate clerics were tied to each other, wrist-to-ankle, so that their faces were buried in each other’s diapers.
She counted dozens of people in the grand temple room, all bound, all unable to move or flee. Some were faces she recognized. Some were strangers. All were helpless.
“Hadrian?” Sandra called, picking her way through the helpless, whimpering victims.
“Back here!” he called, voice carrying from a rear door.
She followed the sound. In the former backstage, it was less populated, but the cribs and cursed people inside were just as helpless. Hadrian was there, but as she stepped in, he looked from face to face, crib to crib, then turned and ran out the room.
Sandra followed, urgently, chasing after him as he went to the once-and-no-longer rectory. Here, there were no people, only changing supplies and baby food stacked on shelves, piles and piles of each, a trove of necessities for anyone who’d been cursed into diaper dependence.
Hadrian continued to run, and Sandra chased after him. “Wait, Hadrian–”
“I have to find her,” he called back, moving down a back hall, to the priest’s quarters. More cribs, more faces, but not the face he wanted to see. Up, then, to the library–now a play room, with baby books and lewd folios, baby toys and vibrating wands all scattered around as though they belonged together. A few priests, glassy eyed, were going through the motions of stacking blocks or organizing rings onto a post, seemingly without any control over their actions.
More desperate than ever, Hadrian continued his flight. He checked the kitchen, now filled with high chairs, and the restrooms, now filled exclusively with changing tables.
Nothing.
“She’s…” Hadrian panted, leaning against a changing table for support. “She’s not here.”
“Maybe she was out on business,” Sandra suggested. “Gwyndomere relies on her for jobs.”
“Gwyndomere’s gone, too,” Hadrian said. “He took–The Wizard took them.”
Sandra looked back out the changing room door, to the open field of restrained worshippers. “Why?”
“I don’t know,” Hadrian said, a growl building in his throat. “But we’re not going to let this sta–”
“Hey!”
A voice called from the grand hall. Someone who could speak, not bound up by the curses and restraints.
Sandra stepped out, looking for the source of the voice. A man in white and gold robes. Sandra recognized the colors, indicating a god or goddess of healing, but couldn’t remember the divinity’s name.
“We’re with the guild,” Sandra said. “I’m–”
“Sandra Cassidy,” the cleric replied, stepping closer. He was older, with a neatly trimmed grey beard and a weary expression. “I know who you are. My name is Barro, I’m a priest of Aesocar. You shouldn’t be in here.”
“These people need help,” Sanda gestured, while mentally snapping a proverbial finger. (Aesocar! That’s the god I was thinking of.)
“We’re finding ways to do that,” Barro said, “But it’s dangerous. The pacifiers provide food and water, keeping them alive, but we haven’t yet found a way to get them down safely. They could be like this for weeks, and unless you know how to dispel it, there’s nothing for you to do but fall into a trap or erase your own mind by mistake.”
“I know how to work around the Wizard’s cruelty,” Sandra said.
“And you know how dangerous he is,” the cleric replied. “But–”
“Wait,” Hadrian said. “How do you know it could be weeks? When was the temple hit?”
The cleric shifted, uncomfortably, looking back at the door. “We should step outside–”
“What happened?” Hadrian demanded, stalking forward. “How long has it been like this?”
“This temple was hit this morning,” Barro said. “Eight members of the clergy are still unaccounted for, but…”
Sandra understood. “This isn’t the only one.”
“Four temples in eight days. The Wizard has been busy. And…it could be much, much worse than this.” He looked down and to the side. “My order was hit. Aesocar’s great hospital–the wizard rendered most of the finest healers in the realm to sadistic torments, turning their healing magic into cruel sources of pain.”
“Let’s go outside,” Sandra finally said.
Careful and reluctant, they stepped around the helpless, moaning victims, out into the fresh air.
“Four temples,” Sandra repeated. “What’s he doing?”
“We think, trying to get something.” Barro hesitated. “He’s taken the high priest of each, and several of their highest ranked assistants.”
“Serendipity,” Hadrian whispered.
“Gwyndomere,” Sandra added, thinking of the high priest’s power. If the Wizard had taken Gwyndomere, rather than coming in and attacking the temple while Gwyndomere was gone, then that implied danger and power beyond what she’d already feared.
“What’s going on?” Quinn asked, seeing them walk out.
“Danger and trouble,” Sandra started. “We’re going to need to be careful and decide our next move cautiously, something big and complicated is coming, and–”
“No,” Hadrian cut in. “It’s not complicated at all. We’re going to find the wizard, and when we do, we’re going to kill him.”
...
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@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!
She’d never been put in a diaper so thick, before. It was simultaneously fascinating and mortifying.
She just couldn’t control her curiosity, rubbing her hands over the outside. It never had occurred to her that a diaper could force her thighs so far apart that she couldn’t help but waddle like an oversized toddler. Or that a diaper could so effectively prevent her from feeling anything through it, despite her burning bottom and her (surprisingly) wet and wanting princess parts.
As fascinating as her new diaper was, the threats her Daddy made as he prepared, powdered and applied her new diaper, while she could only sniffle, made her far more fearful than curious. Would he really make her stay in them until they were completely soaked, through and through, even if it took a whole day? Was he really going to make her go out to a movie with just this outfit and diaper on under her coat? There’s no way he would actually take her to their favorite restaurant, the one where the waitstaff knew their names, and make her sit at the bar, right?
While she knew she hadn’t been supposed to play her toy, much less make cummies in her diaper last night, surely this was far too severe a punishment, wasn’t it? Even if she had also played and made cummies in her diapers earlier in the week, a few times, when her Daddy was either out or busy, she had already gotten spanked for those (though he hadn’t used that damned hairbrush like he did this time…) and had her toy taken away, so she can’t be punished for them again; that just isn’t fair!
She did supposed that lying to Daddy about last night was extra naughty, and demanding that he leave her be while calling him a monster wasn’t really the most appropriate way to handle her upcoming punishment, but did that invite such harsh discipline? Still, she realizes that, as naughty as she has been, Daddy probably hadn’t intended to make her do those things.
That is until she uttered those rather foolish last words: ”You wouldn’t dare!”
For mature readers - 18+ only!
Mommy was gonna be so frickin’ proud.
I clicked the final gray block into place on the castle wall and stepped back to admire the scene: the perfect, complete medieval village with castles and knights and wagons and a dragon. Just as I’d imagined it as a kid. My eye caught the blank patch of green LEGO base on the sprawling table. Well, nearly complete. I’d almost given up on finding the King’s Castle, the only set remaining from the 80s and 90s ones I’d grown up with.
“Mommy,” I called out.
The house was silent but for the ticking of the clock downstairs. “Mommy!” I called again, louder this time. Then I remembered she was out. With him. At a new Italian restaurant or something like that. Or were they going to Rogers Park? I looked up at the clock. Either way, she should be back by now. She couldn’t be spending the night at his house or she would’ve sent Lisa over to babysit me. And more importantly, it was Saturday: we always watched a movie together on Saturday. I felt a flutter of anxiety. Had she forgotten?
I heard footsteps on the stairs, then Mommy was standing in the doorway to my nursery, a glass of red wine in her hand. She was dressed up in a long black evening dress that sparkled a bit in the light. Her dark hair was up in an elaborate hairdo with a long pin stuck through it, and she wore bright red lipstick and strappy high heels. “Hey, sweetstuff.”
The tension dissipated. “I finished it!” I said, pointing at the newest addition to my little city.
“Will you look at that,” she said. “Nice work.”
She smiled, and I felt that warm glow in my chest.
“Have you come up with a name for it yet? For your little town, I mean.”
I shook my head. I’d name it when it was complete. When I added the King’s Castle.
She walked across the room, her heels clicking on the wood floor, and stood next to me. She smelled like lavender perfume and alcohol. Like date night. “This is the new one, right?” she asked, pointing at the castle I’d just finished.
I nodded. “This was the first set I ever got. For Christmas when I was six.”
“Lots of good memories, I bet.”
I grabbed the two sides of the castle and opened it wide, displaying the interior rooms. “The dungeon has a secret entrance right here. And you see this? It’s the armory.” I pointed at the rack of swords and halberds on the wall of the armory. I’d had to buy those separately, as they were missing from the set I found on eBay.
She reached down and squeezed the back of my diaper. “Looking a bit droopy there.”
I shrugged. “I’m not leaking.”
“Famous last words,” she said with a chuckle.
I surveyed the LEGO table and the row of coastline base pieces I’d just added. “Gonna start adding pirates now, I guess.”
“Still no luck online with the King’s Castle?”
I shook my head.
“Maybe we can try the flea market by David’s house this weekend. What do you think about that, David?”
I startled. “He’s here?”
I heard the bathroom door open down the hall, and a moment later, David stepped into my room. He always reminded me of Ted Danson. Younger Danson, like when he was on Cheers. He even had the same smirky smile. He held a tumbler of something dark brown in one hand. The other hand was tucked behind his back. He was tall and lean. Strong, but not all bulgy like those guys that live at the gym. ‘A swimmer’s body,’ Mommy called it. When I reminded her I was a good swimmer, she’d called me her ‘seal pup.’ I knew I’d put on some weight over the last three years and worried that might be part of the reason she called me that, but I liked the nickname anyway. Seal pups were cute.
“Hey, bud,” David said. “Looks like you’ve had a fun evening.”
I turned to Mommy. “He’s not staying, is he? You didn’t say he was spending the night. I thought we were gonna watch Inside Out and have popcorn and Sour Patch.” Movie night was my favorite. We always had snacks and cuddled in Mommy’s bed. Sometimes, I even spent the night in there with her if I fell asleep during the movie. And tonight felt like an extra celebration after finishing the castle.
“Don’t be silly. I wouldn’t miss out on movie night with my favorite baby boy,” she said.
I glared, still feeling annoyed that no one had told me he’d be coming over. Mommy gently pinched my chin and brought my gaze around to hers. Her light blue eyes stared into mine. “Hey, remember your manners, okay?”
Just a few feet behind me in the nursery was my spanking bench and row of paddles. I nodded. “Hey,” I said to David.
Mommy smiled. “There’s my good boy. Now, I think he has a little something for you.”
For me? He’d brought Mommy plenty of gifts. Especially when they first started spending time together a couple of years ago. Roses. A necklace. Boxes of clothes I never saw her wear, which made me wonder if they were for the bedroom. But he’d never gotten me anything, aside from a hot dog and ice cream at the Badgers game that one time. And tickets to the zoo. And the aquarium. And that remote control car last Christmas.
“Is it a teddy bear?” I asked warily. Everyone who knew about Mommy and me, about our special relationship, thought I needed a teddy bear. Mommy said that was the template they had to work with—little ones like teddy bears. And I did like teddy bears. And plenty of other stuffies. But I only needed so many. David should know better, though, right? He had his own little girl. And Mommy would’ve told him I had plenty of bears.
David chuckled. “I saw that massive pile of stuffies last time I was here. Looks like you’re all set on the ursine front.”
“Last time?” I didn’t remember him coming into my room…ever.
“Your mommy was all tuckered out after a, uh, long night.” They both shared a glance, and he chuckled. “I knew she hadn’t changed you when we got back from dinner, so I decided to make sure you weren’t leaking while she rested.”
“What? I didn’t know that!” He’d come into my nursery and checked my diaper? What if it had needed to be changed? That was Mommy’s job and no one else’s. Not even the other mommies at playgroup would change me. Had he touched my diaper? Stuck a finger in the leg hole like Mommy did sometimes?
“You were a bit soggy, but nothing that couldn’t wait until morning.”
“No one else changes me,” I said. I glared at Mommy.
“Your babysitter, Lisa?” Mommy asked.
I shrugged. That was different. She was a babysitter. That was half her job.
“And Miss Karoline that time you had a blowout at the park? Or how about Miss Meredith when you slept over at Tim’s house? Or—” I blushed. “Okay, but, I didn’t know he did it. You should’ve told me first.”
“What do I always say?” Mommy asked.
I looked at the floor.
“Rian?” her tone had an edge to it. She rarely got angry with me. Not really angry, at least.
“Little boys in diapers don’t get to say who checks and changes their diapers,” I mumbled.
“That’s right,” she said. “You’re lucky to have a loving mommy. But we’re also lucky to have friends that support us. Friends like David.” I looked at him again. He stood patiently, the hint of a smile on his face. He wasn’t my ‘friend.’ And I’m not sure he counted as Mommy’s ‘friend,’ either. Not without something else tacked on to that word. But at least he hadn’t actually changed me. That’d just be weird.
“So, do you want your present, or should I give it to someone else?” he asked.
“I’d like it,” I said. “Please,” I added a moment later.
He pulled his arm from behind his back and held out a LEGO set.
“Woah! Skull’s Eye Schooner!”
He chuckled. “Indeed. Your mommy deserves the credit for telling me about it, though. You’re a lucky lil’ fella.”
“Where did you find it? How?” It was nowhere near as rare as the King’s Castle, but still one of the harder sets to find. While looking for the King’s Castle, I’d been watching for this one, too. I knew it’d be hard to find, so every time I pawed through musty old junk at yard sales and flea markets I kept an eye out for it, hoping I’d see the telltale yellow box under a pile of tupperware or beneath a stack of flannel shirts.
“My friend Chris owns a company that organizes estate sales. He put the word out, and sure enough, it popped up in Des Moines. This old guy had copies of almost every set LEGO ever put out, he said. Bit of a hoarder.” He held the box out, and I took it.
It was opened but in mint condition, which probably meant all the pieces were there. Anyone who took such good care of the box probably didn’t lose pieces. I brought it over to the table and carefully opened it, admiring the bags of bricks—taped closed with blue painter’s tape—and minifigs. The assembly manual was as thick as my thumb, with page after page of glossy, full-color instructions. I flipped to the first page.
Mommy put a hand on my back. “Maybe don’t put that together quite yet, okay? Why don’t we save it until tomorrow? Or maybe after…”
“Right,” David said. “After might be best.”
“After what? It’s 878 pieces,” I said. I held up the manual, showing her how thick it was. “I need to get started or it’ll never be done.”
“Bud,” David said. He walked over to my other side and put a hand on my shoulder. “We have some exciting news.”
I shrugged his hand off and pointed at the bag of minifigures and weapons. “See all these cannons? Some of them sit on little turntable things that slide around. It’s frickin’ awesome.”
“Rian,” Mommy said, “did you hear David? We have some exciting news.”
I reluctantly set the bag down and turned to face him. “Are we going back to the zoo? The monkeys were hiding last time, remember? Maybe this time they’ll be out.”
“No, not the zoo.”
“Oh.” I turned to look at the set. Maybe I could start working on it while he was talking.
“There will be plenty more zoo trips together, I promise. But that’s not what this is about.”
A knot of anxiety formed in my stomach. I turned to Mommy. “What’s going on?”
She smiled, but I could see the worry on her face. She squeezed my hand. “Rian, David and I have decided that it would be best, if, um…”
“What?” I asked. “Just say it.”
“I’ve decided that you and Amara are going to move in with Gwen and me,” David finished for her.
“Move in, like…out of this house? What about my LEGOS? And all of my other stuff? I like this house.” We’d bought it together back when I was working. Almost our whole life together had been here.
“Oh, sweetness, of course, we will move all of your stuff with us. David and Gwen’s home will be your home, too, and you can make the space your own.”
Daddy cleared his throat.
“You’ll be sharing a room at first,” Mommy added, “but we’ll get you settled in your own room soon enough.”
I frowned. “I thought you liked sleeping in your own space and having the whole bed to stretch out and not get kicked. And not having the plastic cover on the mattress. That’s what you always say.”
David chuckled. “She’ll be sleeping with me, bud. And I don’t think we’ll be needing a bedwetting cover on the mattress. You and Gwen will share a room. She has a big nursery. I’m sure she’ll love the company.”
I knew he was sleeping with Mommy, of course. I’d reluctantly agreed to that years ago. She’d made it clear she had grownup needs I couldn’t meet anymore. And I was okay with it. Mostly. Usually, I didn’t have to think about it. But if we were all living in the same house, that’d be different. I’d have to see him touching her. Kissing her. Squeezing her butt, like that one time in the entryway when they didn’t know I was watching.
And then there was Gwen. I’d only met her once, but she’d told me I had pudding on my shirt. That was the first thing she’d said. Not even hello. She was right; there was a big glob of chocolate pudding on my Transformers shirt, but what was I supposed to do about it? And why did she care?
“I don’t want to share a room,” I said. “I like my room. I like my stuff.”
“I know you do,” Mommy said. “But this will be best for everyone. David has a big house with lots of fun stuff. And I know you and Gwen are going to get along famously. Please just give it a chance, for me?”
She had that look on her face. Eyes kinda wide. Lips pursed. Like she was worried I’d say no or throw a fit or something. I wondered what she’d do if I did say no. Would we move anyway? But I couldn’t do that. I’d at least try. I owed her that. And we’d agreed long ago that she made the big decisions. And most of the small ones, too. I nodded.
The worried expression disappeared, replaced by her biggest smile. The kind that dimpled her cheeks and made her eyes shine. She wrapped me in a big hug and whispered in my ear. “Thank you, baby. I love you soooooo much.”
“I love you too,” I said back, “more than anything.” I meant it, of course. I’d do just about anything to make her happy. But saying the words—and feeling them—did nothing to loosen the knot in my stomach.
Everything was going to change. This is the first chapter of an ongoing story I'm releasing on Ream. Check out my Ream site to read more of this story, plus the ongoing The Good News, and tons of other completed stories!
"Oh, um… what was that? You're with who?"
Angela pressed her phone closer to her ear, her attention focused on the staticky masculine voice emanating from the tiny speaker. "Medical research… checking in… survey… if you have time… gift card…"
She sighed. But then, with a resigned glance around the empty bedroom room, nodded to her invisible caller. "Uh, sure. Sure, I guess I can do that." She bounced gently in place, her half-naked body swaying gracefully as she maintained her balance. "What's the first question?"
"Uhh… oh. That? Really?"
Her eyes dropped in a sudden flash of self-consciousness, and her fingers fidgeted at the plastic waistband of her gaily decorated diaper. "Uh, yeah. Completely incontinent." A pause, and then a shake of the head. "No- not really. No medication- Nope, nothing else. Just… yeah. Just the… what you said. 'Protective briefs'."
Her mouth twisted into a wry smile at the phrase, and again she glanced downward – this time in silent amusement at the odd euphemisms folks loved to use for an ordinary diaper. "Umm… three times a day? Sometimes four." Another pause, while her fingers strayed downward and probed unconsciously at the cotton and plastic bunched between her naked thighs. A bit wet. Nothing major. "No, not really. Just a little chafing now and then, but nothing serious." Another pause. "Oh, relationship? Yeah, married."
On and on it went, question after probing question. Her family history. Her hobbies. Whether and how her condition interfered with them. Occupation. And so on, and so forth, as the clock ticked on and her patience grew ever more thin.
But finally came a truly unexpected question: one that brought the already awkward conversation to a full stop. Angela hesitated, eyes flicking downward and back as she considered her response. "Uhh…" Fingers slipped over the sensitive regions between her legs, so amply protected by the thick garment she wore. Then… with a naughty grin and flushing cheeks, she leaned closer and spoke.
"No, actually, my husband loves it. Tell you the truth, we actually both love it."
She grinned to herself, and now her fingers were steadily stroking at her padded crotch. "Sure! Umm, lots of reasons. I don't have to run to the bathroom constantly, for one thing. And, um, I don't have to worry about accidents anymore." She paused, then shrugged as if her polite discretion had entirely evaporated along with her patience. "And, I mean… have you ever worn one, mister? They're freaking comfortable! And listen: when you feel everything just let go and you absolutely soak them full… uuhnnnn…!"
It was nothing short of a full-throated moan of undisguised pleasure. A devious grin spread across her face as she cocked her head, listening to the stuttering fellow on the other end trying to recover his composure. "Everything okay there?" A few seconds paused, and then she grew thoughtful once more. "Oh, okay. What I'd like to see in future products? Hmm, let me think…"
She gave her diaper a quick squeeze, then broke silence once more. "Well, there's two things, actually! First off, these diapers of mine need to be a heck of a lot cheaper – like, half what they are now. And then… I mean, since you're asking…" Here she trailed off, and once again a devilish grin flashed across her face. "Honestly, I think they need to be much thicker, and far less discreet. Because after all, mister… when a naughty girl like me piddles in her pants non-stop, don't you think she deserves to have everyone know about it? Don't you think she ought to be absolutely humiliated for being such a wet, dirty little diaper girl?"
She laughed then – a full-throated, lusty laugh of confidence and derision at her stunned interviewer. "Aww, what's the matter? Done with your questions already? Or did you want me to tell you more about how badly I need my diapers?"
Perhaps it was for the best that the poor fellow on the other end couldn't see Angela once she hung up and tossed her phone onto the bed beside her. Though then again… the way she began shamelessly grinding her padded crotch into her defenseless pillow would at the very least have been…
Educational, perhaps? Or at the very least, informative. Because maybe, just maybe, he'd have learned that dealing with a disability could actually be a hell of a lot of fun.
Image Credit: DiaperGal.com
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In the dimly lit living room of the frat house, the smell of pizza and stale beer lingered in the air. The walls were adorned with posters of rock bands and scantily clad women, typical decor for a fraternity. Two frat boys, Jack and Mike, lounged on the worn-out couch, half-empty beer cans in their hands.
"You just need to get laid, dude," Jack said, a smirk on his face. He took a swig from his beer can, his eyes glinting with mischief.
Mike chuckled, shaking his head. "Yeah, well, easier said than done. Did you see how Professor Collins looked at me today? Like I was some kind of bug she wanted to squash."
Jack laughed, a harsh sound that echoed in the room. "That old hag? She’s just mad because no one wants to bang her. I mean, have you seen her? She’s got that permanent scowl."
"Yeah, true," Mike agreed, his voice dripping with disdain. "But did you catch a glimpse of Sarah in class? Man, those tits... they’re like... gigantic. I can’t even focus when she’s around."
Jack nodded, his eyes gleaming. "I know, right? It’s like she’s got a couple of melons under her shirt. She probably uses them to get what she wants. You know how girls are."
Mike snorted. "Yeah, always playing the game."
Jack leaned back, his gaze turning thoughtful. "You know, we could always mess with her a bit. She needs to be taken down a peg or two."
Mike raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"
Jack’s smirk widened. "You’ll see. Just follow my lead."
As the two boys plotted, they didn’t notice the figure standing in the doorway, a small, discreet smile playing on her lips. Professor Collins had overheard their entire conversation, and she had plans of her own.
A few evenings later, the frat house was alive with the sounds of laughter, music, and clinking bottles. Jack and Mike moved through the crowded rooms with a sense of purpose. Their mission was clear: get laid. The air was thick with the smell of cheap cologne and sweat, mingling with the ever-present scent of pizza and beer.
Jack nudged Mike, pointing to a group of girls by the makeshift bar. "Target acquired," he muttered, a sly grin on his face.
The two boys sauntered over, their swagger exaggerated by the alcohol coursing through their veins. "Hey ladies," Jack said, leaning against the counter with what he thought was a charming smile. "You girls look like you could use some company."
One of the girls, a petite brunette, rolled her eyes. "We’re fine, thanks."
Undeterred, Mike leaned in closer. "Come on, don’t be like that. We’re just trying to have a good time. How about a dance?"
The girls exchanged glances, clearly unimpressed. "Maybe later," one of them said dismissively, turning her back to the boys.
Jack scowled, but before he could say anything more, he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned to see Sarah, the girl with the 'gigantic tits' they had ogled in class, smiling at him.
"Hey, Jack. Hey, Mike," Sarah said, her tone warm and inviting. "Enjoying the party?"
Jack’s eyes lit up. "Sarah! Yeah, it’s great. How about you?"
"I’m having a good time," she replied, her smile widening. "In fact, my roommates and I are throwing an after-party at our place. You guys should come."
Mike’s eyes widened with excitement. "Seriously? We’d love to."
Sarah laughed, a sweet, melodic sound. "Great! Let’s get a taxi."
The boys followed her outside, practically tripping over themselves in their eagerness. They piled into a taxi, squeezing in beside Sarah, who gave the driver her address.
As the taxi sped through the city streets, Jack and Mike exchanged triumphant glances. This was their chance. They were sure of it.
A few evenings later, the frat house was alive with the sounds of laughter, music, and clinking bottles. Jack and Mike moved through the crowded rooms with a sense of purpose. Their mission was clear: get laid. The air was thick with the smell of cheap cologne and sweat, mingling with the ever-present scent of pizza and beer.
Jack nudged Mike, pointing to a group of girls by the makeshift bar. "Target acquired," he muttered, a sly grin on his face.
The two boys sauntered over, their swagger exaggerated by the alcohol coursing through their veins. "Hey ladies," Jack said, leaning against the counter with what he thought was a charming smile. "You girls look like you could use some company."
One of the girls, a petite brunette, rolled her eyes. "We’re fine, thanks."
Undeterred, Mike leaned in closer. "Come on, don’t be like that. We’re just trying to have a good time. How about a dance?"
The girls exchanged glances, clearly unimpressed. "Maybe later," one of them said dismissively, turning her back to the boys.
Jack scowled, but before he could say anything more, he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned to see Sarah, the girl with the 'gigantic tits' they had ogled in class, smiling at him.
"Hey, Jack. Hey, Mike," Sarah said, her tone warm and inviting. "Enjoying the party?"
Jack’s eyes lit up. "Sarah! Yeah, it’s great. How about you?"
"I’m having a good time," she replied, her smile widening. "In fact, my roommates and I are throwing an after-party at our place. You guys should come."
Mike’s eyes widened with excitement. "Seriously? We’d love to."
Sarah laughed, a sweet, melodic sound. "Great! Let’s get a taxi."
The boys followed her outside, practically tripping over themselves in their eagerness. They piled into a taxi, squeezing in beside Sarah, who gave the driver her address.
As the taxi sped through the city streets, Jack and Mike exchanged triumphant glances. This was their chance. They were sure of it.
The taxi pulled up to a quaint, two-story house in a quiet neighborhood. Sarah led the way inside, where they were greeted by her roommates, a group of equally attractive young women. The living room was cozy and tastefully decorated, a stark contrast to the frat house.
"Welcome to our humble abode," Sarah said, gesturing for the boys to take a seat on the couch.
Jack and Mike plopped down, their eyes scanning the room. "Nice place," Jack commented, trying to sound suave.
"Thanks," one of Sarah’s roommates replied with a smile. "We like to keep it comfortable."
Sarah disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a tray of drinks. "Here you go, guys," she said, handing them each a glass. "Drink up."
Jack took a sip, feeling the warmth of the alcohol spread through him. "So, what’s the plan for the after-party?" he asked, leaning back into the couch.
Sarah’s smile turned mischievous. "Oh, we’ve got something special planned for you two."
The boys exchanged excited glances, their minds racing with possibilities. They had no idea what was in store for them.
The boys downed their drinks, feeling the warmth of the alcohol spread through them. They relaxed into the couch, exchanging excited glances and chuckling softly. Jack turned to Sarah, his eyes slightly glazed. "So, what's the special plan?" he asked, trying to sound casual.
Sarah's smile widened. "You'll see," she said, her voice sweet but with an edge that sent a shiver down Jack's spine.
Minutes passed, and the boys started to feel strange. A warm, tingling sensation spread through their bodies. They shifted uncomfortably, realizing too late that something was very wrong. Jack felt a sudden, uncontrollable urge and before he could react, he heard a faint hissing sound. He looked down, horrified to see a wet stain spreading across his jeans.
"Mike!" Jack gasped, his voice shaky. "I think I just... wet myself."
Mike's eyes widened in panic as he felt a similar sensation. He looked down to see his pants darkening with wetness. "What the hell?" he muttered, his voice trembling.
The girls around them burst into laughter, their mocking giggles filling the room. "Looks like our big, tough frat boys can't even keep their pants dry!" Sarah teased, her eyes twinkling with amusement.
Jack's face turned crimson with humiliation. "This isn't funny, Sarah!" he snapped, his voice cracking.
"Oh, but it is," Sarah said, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "You guys wanted to get laid, right? Well, the only way you're getting laid tonight is on a changing table."
The girls' laughter grew louder as they surrounded the boys, their mocking words stinging like venom. "Looks like you two are nothing but big babies," one of Sarah's roommates taunted.
The boys, overwhelmed and humiliated, could do nothing but sit there, their soaked pants clinging to their skin. Sarah and her friends pulled them to their feet, guiding them through a doorway and into another room. The sight that greeted them was both surreal and terrifying.
The room was a giant nursery, complete with oversized cribs, a changing table, and shelves stocked with diapers and baby supplies. The walls were painted in soft pastels, decorated with cartoon characters and playful patterns. The scent of baby powder hung in the air.
Jack and Mike stood frozen, their minds struggling to process the bizarre scene before them. Sarah and her friends moved with practiced ease, leading the boys to the changing table. They were too stunned to resist as the girls began to strip them of their wet clothes.
"Welcome to your new home, boys," Sarah said, her voice a mix of amusement and authority. "From now on, you'll be treated like the babies you are."
The boys watched in a daze as the girls produced large, fluffy diapers, decorated with childish prints. Their hands trembled as they tried to cover themselves, but the girls were relentless. They gently but firmly laid the boys down on the changing table, their teasing voices a constant backdrop to the humiliating process.
"Don't worry," one of Sarah's roommates cooed. "We'll take good care of you."
Jack felt a mixture of fear, shame, and a strange, inexplicable sense of surrender as he was powdered and diapered like a baby. The thick padding crinkled as he was helped off the table, his legs wobbling slightly.
Mike, equally overwhelmed, found himself in a similar state. The soft, bulky diaper felt foreign and embarrassing, but he was too shaken to protest.
Suddenly, the door to the nursery opened once more. Professor Collins, the very woman they'd been deriding just days ago, stepped inside, her presence commanding the room.
At the sight of her, both boys felt an involuntary release, the warmth spreading through their diapers as they wet themselves in sheer terror. The professor's lips curled into a cold smile.
"Well, well, what do we have here?" Professor Collins said, her voice dripping with mockery. "Two big, tough frat boys reduced to helpless little babies. How fitting."
Sarah and her friends giggled, their laughter echoing in the room. Jack's face burned with humiliation, his earlier bravado shattered. Mike looked away, too ashamed to meet anyone's gaze.
Professor Collins stepped closer, her eyes gleaming with amusement. "It seems you boys have learned a valuable lesson. But we're not done yet. In fact, your reeducation is just beginning."
The boys exchanged horrified glances, their confusion evident. "Reeducation?" Jack stammered.
Sarah stepped forward, a confident smirk on her face. "Yes, reeducation. You see, Professor Collins has been working with us on a special project for her research in feminism. We're going to turn frat boys like you into good little babies, and then raise you to be better men."
The professor nodded, her gaze unwavering. "You've been chosen as our new research subjects. We'll be documenting every step of your transformation. From arrogant, misogynistic boys to respectful, well-behaved men."
Jack and Mike were too stunned to respond. The realization of their predicament sank in slowly, bringing with it a wave of dread. This wasn't just a humiliating prank. This was a complete, enforced regression.
Professor Collins leaned over Jack's crib, her voice a low, mocking whisper. "Think of this as a second chance, boys. A chance to learn respect, empathy, and humility. Traits you clearly lack."
Mike's eyes filled with tears of frustration and shame. "You can't do this to us," he said, his voice trembling. "We didn't agree to any of this."
Sarah's roommate, the one who had cooed at them earlier, patted Mike's head patronizingly. "Oh, but you did agree, the moment you stepped into this house. And now, you're ours to care for and mold into better people."
Jack clenched his fists, his anger bubbling beneath the surface. But he was powerless, trapped in a diaper, surrounded by women who held all the control.
Professor Collins straightened up, addressing the group. "Sarah, let's make sure our new 'babies' are comfortable. We'll begin their first lessons in the morning."
The girls nodded eagerly, each taking a turn to coo and tease the boys. "Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it," one of them said. "And who knows, you might even start to like it."
As the reality of their situation settled in, Jack and Mike felt a profound sense of defeat. They were no longer the cocky frat boys who had strutted into the party, thinking they could conquer anything. They were now just two scared, humiliated boys in diapers, facing an uncertain future in the hands of those they had once looked down upon.
Professor Collins turned to leave, her final words lingering in the air. "Goodnight, boys. Sweet dreams. Tomorrow, your real education begins."
The door closed behind her, leaving Jack and Mike in the oversized cribs, their minds racing with fear and confusion. They could hear the soft hum of a lullaby playing from a speaker in the corner, adding an eerie touch to the surreal nursery setting.
Sarah leaned over Jack’s crib one last time, her expression softening slightly. "You brought this on yourselves, you know. Maybe after this, you'll learn to treat people with respect."
With that, she turned off the lights, plunging the room into a soothing darkness, illuminated only by the soft glow of a nightlight. The boys lay there, their thoughts a chaotic mess, knowing that their lives had irrevocably changed.
As the lullaby played on, they realized there was no escaping this new reality. They were now the subjects of an experiment designed to reshape their very identities, and there was nothing they could do to stop it.