Forced Regression Stories & Captions Index

You lean there against the bars of your crib, despondently contemplating your future. Hair done up in the most adorable pigtails, the prettiest and cutest onesie imaginable snugly wrapped around you, your thick and now ever-present diaper swaddling your groin… Yes, you are quite the sight. You know it. Auntie reminds you of it every day, after all…

A sigh escapes you as you meditate on the life choices that have led you to this unexpected place. Not every twenty-three-year-old young woman expects to be reliving her infancy! Normally, folks finish college and find a job so they can settle down, maybe find someone special, pay off those hideous student loans, and get on in life. Well… that’s the plan, anyway. But when a job isn’t forthcoming, and you’ve got no family to rely on… It’s tough.

Into that darkness had suddenly come Auntie’s offer. She was not really an aunt - more of a friend of your parents before they’d passed away - but she did seem to have a soft spot in her heart for you. It didn’t hurt that she was pretty obscenely wealthy, either. So when she’d offered to help you out if you could only come live with her and help with her home business as a personal secretary, you’d jumped at the chance. Maybe fairy godmothers - or at least super generous aunties - really were a thing! At any rate, you had nothing to lose, right?

Well, maybe you did, you reflect now, feeling yet another warm spurt of urine wash into the reassuring padding between your legs. Sure, Auntie was taking care of your student loans, waving a bank account number and magically making them disappear. But she, indulgent as ever, had also begun to buy you clothes and furniture that seemed decidedly out of keeping with your age. It wasn’t every young college graduate that had footie pajamas, sparkly princess shirts, and a bed with a built-in railing, was it? The pattern had progressed over the months, and you’d kept your mouth shut, not wanting to appear ungrateful to the woman who had literally given you a financial future…

Until the day when she’d brought home a onesie and shortall set with snaps in the crotch, and had begun cooing over how cute you’d look in it. You’d timidly asked the rather rhetorical question: did she want you to look like a baby? And when she’d unexpectedly told you, yes, she kind of did, the real discussion had begun. She’d always wanted a child of her own, she sadly smiled, and you were the closest thing she’d ever had to a daughter. Couldn’t she at least pretend that you were her little girl? It would mean so very much to her…

Well, the power dynamic being what it was, you’d been completely and utterly unable to say no.

So here you were, a full year into your new job with Auntie. It had been six months at least since you’d even touched the big girl potty - six months that had been filled with little more than bottle-feedings and high chairs, bulging diapers and smelly diaper pails, a doting Auntie and you as her increasingly dependent baby girl. You felt your big girl life steadily slipping away, all the exciting knowledge and ideas from college drifting ever more certainly into the past… You were Auntie’s “secretary” now - more like her office baby, whose only remaining job was to waddle and crawl around and put the wadded-up papers one by one into the trashcan. It was a mind-numbing routine, but admittedly a seductively simple and comfortable one. No phone calls or meetings or appointments like Auntie had - just your familiar carpet and toys and ba-bas to keep you company… It could be worse, couldn’t it?

And as you felt the familiar pressure building in your tummy, you sighed again, releasing the now-familiar wave of soft, warm mush easily and steadily into your expanding diaper, followed by the involuntary flood of pee afterwards. Well, whatever. You didn’t get upset over such things anymore. Auntie would change her stinky baby sometime soon. It didn’t matter much anymore, after all - you were wet or dirty most of the time these days. Maybe that was the real trade-off, you mused as your diaper slowly sagged underneath your adorable onesie. Trading your dignity and independence for a secure future…

Was it worth it? You honestly didn’t know… But even if you did, you probably couldn’t have done a thing to change it. Not anymore.

Image Credit: Ageplay247.com

Please keep my caption intact if reblogging; as long as you do, may the dust bunnies under your furniture magically disappear.

THE PARK BENCH

It was a bright, sunny day, as the excited buzzing of the few families and couples filled the air of the zoo, mingling with the exotic smells of animals from every corner of the globe. Normally, I hated being strapped into my oversized stroller but this time I was at least grateful for the bit of shade the extendable cover provided. If the adult sized stroller loaded down with heavy diaper bag and every assortment of infantile paraphernalia wasn’t a dead giveaway of my condition, my pastel green t-shirt sporting smiling baby zoo animals and cargo shorts with the elastic waistband—concealing a very obvious diaper bulge—certainly was. I shrunk back as best as my restraints would allow, cringing every time a new zoo guest looked my way, but Mommy didn’t seem to pay any mind. Wearing a gorgeous yellow sundress, the one that flirted dangerously with the wind every time a light breeze blew by, mommy simply beamed and pushed me along from exhibit to exhibit all the while, asking me if I liked the “horsies” or the “pumba’s.” It’s not as if I could actually respond though, what with the suffocating pacifier gag stuffing my mouth. Today’s was a special gag, as it held a secret reservoir between the teat and the button, filled with god only knows what mommy had put in there this time. All I could do was grunt my approval, and point to any new exhibit I wanted her to wheel me towards.

When we got to the elephant enclosure towards the end of the park, I felt the stroller come to a halt and heard mommy come around and into view. She bent down towards me, giving me an enticing view of her cleavage, pushed together in the sundress.

“Does baby want to see the elephants? They’re just like your stuffy at home! Only very very big.

I rolled my eyes but I was at least thankful to get out of the chair and stretch my legs. As she got to work undoing the restraints holding in my wrists, ankles, and the big buckle pushing against my crotch, a sudden gust blew past, flipping her sundress up, exposing her no doubt delicate lace panties and gorgeously heart-shaped ass to a lucky couple passing by. The guy blushed and quickly looked away and I stewed in envy of him for even that little glimpse. Suddenly I felt my lower half begin to stir and grow just from my own imagination and grimaced in pain as the cage mommy had put me in during my morning change went to work, clamping down on my poor encased cock.

After a short moment I was finally free and allowed to waddle up to the railing to look down into the massive elephant enclosure. For a brief moment I forgot that I must look like an overgrown toddler any onlooker and just enjoyed, ironically, feeling like a kid at the zoo. But as I got up on my tiptoes to lean over the railing for a better look, I got a sudden reminder that snapped me out of my reverie, as I felt mommy’s hand firmly cup the seat of my shorts, giving my diaper a big squeeze, pressing the wet padding up tightly against my skin.

“Pee-yew! Someone’s stinky! Is that the elephants or you?” She then pulled back the stretchy elastic waistband of my shorts and diaper to get a good look down my backside. I felt the cool air on my behind and wilted in the sheer humiliation of the moment but felt confident in the knowledge that I was not the odorous offender… right? I mean, I would’ve felt it… right? My control had been waning of late and now even I wasn’t so sure. I cringed in anticipation.

“Nope, all clean! That’s a good boy.” I breathed a huge sigh of relief around my pacifier gag, only to inhale sharply once I felt her prodding hand move down to the leg of my shorts, where her finger could easily slip through the elastic leg gathers of my diaper for a closer feel.

“But you are soaked. Best to change you now anyway.” Oh no! Please no. I balked in horror. I quickly looked around hoping to see a family restroom in the immediate area but there was nothing in sight. Nothing but a green park bench a few feet back. I tried to voice my muffled protest but it was too late. Before I could react, mommy was pulling me by the wrist over to the bench, stroller in tow. I stumbled to keep up, the stupid fat diaper forcing my legs apart and turning my normal gait into a bow-legged waddle.

On the bench, mommy laid down my Sesame Street blankie and gently guided me on top. I felt my diaper give a big squish as I sat. She pushed me by the chest until I was flat on my back. Wishing to get this over as soon as possible, I covered my eyes and lifted my hips as she slowly unbuttoned and slid my shorts down and off my legs. Next I heard her heave out the diaper bag and rifle around for essentials. I opened my eyes again when I heard a young woman’s giggle. I quickly glanced up just as a young couple passed by clearly on a date, the woman obviously whispering and laughing to her boyfriend about the big baby she just saw. My cheeks burned with embarrassment.

It was business as usual for mommy, though, as she quickly got to undoing the front tapes of my diaper and peeling back the wet front panel to expose my smooth, hairless crotch to the cold breeze. I shivered and sucked delicately on my paci, careful not to pull too hard and activate mommy’s secret weapon.

Quick as a flash mommy had my ankles together in one hand, pushing them high into the air as she wiped down my bottom with the other, blissfully whistling the “sunny day, chasing the clouds away” refrain from the Sesame Street theme. I felt her run the cold wipe up and down my crack and gave an exasperated wince as I felt the usual wipe covered finger plunge deep into my most private region, exploring each crevice in the name of cleanliness. As soon as my cavity was clear I quickly felt another finger deep inside, no doubt inserting a suppository to keep me regular. Just as I was getting over this current indignation, let alone the humiliation of my naked backside exposed for all the world to see over an open, and clearly soaked diaper, a man rounded the corner.

While normally the thought of any man seeing me in such a compromised and emasculated position would be a nightmare, this particular man presented a new an unexpected sensation: hope. It was a police officer! Finally, someone I could cry out to, someone to whom I could beg for help. Please, officer, she’s keeping me like this against my will! But mommy was quicker. She always is. Without breaking her practiced diaper changing stride, my legs still hoisted aloft, she reached for my face and pressed the button of my pacifier, releasing a sudden spurt of castor oil into my mouth. No longer thinking of freedom, I squinted my eyes shut and swallowed with all my might, tears bursting to the surface as I choked down the foul liquid.

“Aw, now who’s this little fellow?” I heard the man say as I grunted and swallowed, hoping to fight my way through the bitter, oily taste. Mommy told the officer that I was just her little Baby Beluga but as for myself I was enduring sensory overload and couldn’t respond.

“He’s just a little fussy right now, normally he’s so polite! Here baby, you must be gunked up. Blow!” She held a tissue to my nose and forced me to blow my nose into it, just like a real baby. The officer just laughed and moved on with his day, and any hope of freedom sauntered off with him. Mommy then got to pulling the open wet diaper out from underneath me and rolling it into a ball before producing a fresh new diaper from her bag. Just as she was unfolding the new diaper out beneath me, I heard another voice that stole my attention.

“Oh, how cute, what’s his name?” Said a young woman in her early-20s. From her short plaid skirt and college sweater, it was clear she was here as some sort of assignment for school.

“Oh this is just my little Baby Beluga! He wanted to see all the ‘aminals’ today so I took him out for some fun mommy-baby time. Normally he’s not this shy but he always gets fussy during changes.” I blushed deeply at that but that paled in comparison to the humiliation I felt as mommy began to lower my legs onto the waiting padding, revealing my shame to the world, caged in baby blue plastic, resting limply at the base of my bare crotch.

“He’s adorable” the girl cooed while mommy dusted me with powder. “If you ever need a babysitter, I’m working on my graduate degree at the university in town and am always looking to earn a little on the side! And from the looks of it, you’ve got a well behaved sweetheart on your hands.” She leaned in and gave me a little pinch on the cheek just as mommy pulled the front of the diaper up into place and I felt my cock stir again only to press futilely against the wall of its cage. The events of the afternoon combined with the sudden reminder of my emasculated state in front of these two beautiful women talking about me like I wasn’t even there this time evoked real tears as I soon found myself experiencing an honest to goodness tantrum. Mommy simply pressed the button on my pacifier once more and my wailing only increased as I fought to swallow the mouthful of terrible liquid.

“That’s so sweet of you! As you can see he can be quite a handful and I can use all the help I can get. Give me your number and I’ll give you a call sometime!” And just like that the woman was walking back to her group and mommy was sticking the last of the tapes into place and pulling my cargo shorts back up over my fat diaper, telling me all about the otters and polar bears we were about to meet.

Gagged and bound you lay there, straining yourself against the restraints in the desperate attempt to prevent what was unfolding in front of your eyes.

It should have been a normal evening with your rather vanilla partner. But unbeknownst to you, your mate had different plans. In hindsight, it should have been a warning sign when your partner suggested to spice things up with a little bit of kinky bondage, but you had been too intrigued by the idea to suspect a thing. Only after you were ordered to strip naked and had your hands and feet safely tied to the bed, it had finally dawned on you that something was not right.

When your partner proceeded to gag you with some plastic tape, it became a certainty. Your partner was showing no intent to engage in sexual activities with you. Instead, your mate just stood there, silently relishing the sight of your naked and bound body and the increasingly alarmed look in your eyes. Then, slowly and theatrically, your partner opened the cupboard and, making sure that you followed every movement, removed the loose floorboards where your secret stash of diapers and other fetish gear was hidden. With a devilish grin your mate produced one of the extra thick AB/DL diapers you had secretly ordered from a fetish site. “No need to look so surprised. I have known about your fetish for quite a while now. And your secret stash..”, here your partner paused for effect to let you gaze upon the boxes of diapers that now lay out in the open, “…was not that hard to find either. It is almost as if you wanted to get caught. You didn´t even clear your browser history after visiting all these fetish sites. Naturally, I was intrigued and wanted to find out more about these secret desires that you tried to keep hidden from me.”

While speaking, your partner slowly unfolded the diaper, expertly handling it, fluffed it up and proceeded towards your completely exposed midsection. “At first, I was not sure how to deal with this. But when I saw what particular fantasies you indulged in, it was like an epiphany. All these stories about grown men being forced to wear diapers and turned into diaper dependent and obedient babies. All these posts about diaper training and forced incontinence. I couldn´t help but imagine how you would react, if I turned your fantasies into reality. And I must confess, I rather liked the idea of having that kind of control over you. In fact, I nearly came when I thought about all the possibilities.”  

Petrified, you were unable to stop listening, bound not only by your restraints but also by the sheer shock of it, tangled in an inextricable web of conflicting emotions, ranging from fear and disbelief to – as shameful as it may be to admit it – a peculiar kind of arousal you had never felt before. Despite your best efforts to fight it, your body was already betraying your emotions and things started to move in your diaper area. All hopes to conceal your arousal vanished instantly when you saw the mischievous smirk in the face of your partner. “I see that you like the idea as well. Since you are obviously onboard with it, I should better hurry to get this diaper on you before you make the bed all sticky.”

Still holding the diaper, your partner produced a towel and proceeded to spread it out under your exposed midsection. Not daring to resist in your exposed state, you obediently lifted your bottom when you were told to do so. Only a few moments later, you were resting on the soft padding of your new diaper – the first one in a very long time that you hadn´t put on yourself. “As you may have noticed, I have already acquired some skills of my own when it comes to putting someone in a diaper. I had plenty of time to prepare, after all. Your favorite sites were quite useful in that regard. I have read up on nearly everything from diaper changes…”, here your partner paused again while fetching a bag with changing supplies from your stash, “…to the proper use of suppositories and laxatives.” As on cue, your mate revealed, with devilish glee, a pack of glycerin suppositories. “I have heard that these are quite effective when it comes to ensure properly used diapers. If I use three of these, you will be messing yourself like a baby in no time.” Relishing your apparent horror at this prospect, your mate gave you a warning look while playfully toying with your exposed genitals. “I know that you don´t like messing yourself, but there is nothing you can do to prevent it. I am in charge now and I am making the rules. You want to wear diapers and I am willing to grant you your wish, but on my own terms. If we are going through with this, we are doing it properly. You want to wear diapers like a baby, so you will be using them like a baby, in both ways and at all times. And if you try to resist…”, here the grip around your genitals tightened to a painful squeeze, “…I have to use a more hands-on approach to make you comply.”

Your fantasies were indeed becoming reality, but they had been just that – only fantasies. This was different, this was real – a fact that was most clearly demonstrated on your throbbing genitals a mere second ago.

“I give you one choice and one choice only”, you heard your partner say. “Either you fully commit yourself and let me turn you into my diaper dependent baby, or you forfeit the right to ever wear or mention diapers again in my presence for as long as we are together. As I have said, if we are going through with this, we are doing it properly, according to my rules and with me in charge. If you don’t want to commit yourself, that is fine, but then I will take no part in it. I couldn´t stand seeing you in and out of diapers at your leisure, when there is no way for me to enjoy it. All or nothing, the choice is yours.”

Torn between two completely different prospects of the future, you lay there, motionless, speechless, overwhelmed by the impossible choice you had to make. Sure, you had at least thought about wearing diapers 24/7 before. But you had never actually considered going through with it anytime soon, let alone right then and there. What would your life be like, if someone else found out? Surely you could not expect to keep it a secret, if you were confined to diapers at all times. On the other hand, a life without diapers seemed so bleak and devoid of comfort. Could you really just forsake it all? Wouldn´t your partner´s presence always remind you of your sacrifice and poison your relationship? And your partner, would you really want to break up your relationship because you could not decide on what was more important to you? Either choice came with uncertainty and the chance of regret.

“The clock is ticking. We can´t leave you like this all night, after all. Either you choose to become my obedient and diaper dependent baby and let me finish what we have started, or you decide against it and I will personally get rid off all baby gear and set you free. If you want me to go through with it, just nod and let me give you your very first suppositories as a sign of your commitment. It will be diapers only from then on. No more potty, no more underwear, only diapers. You will be my baby and I will make sure that it will stay this way.”

You shuddered hearing this. Especially the last part sounded rather ominous. Was it meant the way it sounded? Would there really be no going back?

“On the other hand, you will have my utmost attention and I will personally cater for your every need. You will be the most obedient but also the happiest diaper boy around. Just a little nod, and it will all become reality. Think about it. I offer this only once. If you decline, I will never speak of it again. We will continue our relationship as if this never happened, if you keep your fetish out of it. Otherwise, there will be no future for us together. It all depends on you. You have to decide and you have to do it now. I can´t put up with your indecision any longer. This needs to be resolved right now or you will never find the courage to choose which life you wish to lead. If I hadn´t cornered you like this, you wouldn´t even have dreamed about coming out to me. Now everything is exposed and lying openly on the table. There is nothing to hide anymore. You are already lying there under my control, gagged and bound and with a hard on at the prospect of being forcibly diapered after receiving some very fast acting suppositories. No need for any false dignity. You and I know both what you really desire. I am about to give it to you. What else is there to think about?”

Cornered like this, called out on your obvious and undeniable arousal in one of the most humiliating situations you could imagine and with a hard on that had grown even more at the prospect of a life in diapers under your partner´s control, you couldn´t really find any words to deny the truth of it. You were finally allowing yourself to admit it. You actually were craving this, had been for a long time, in fact. With a deep inhale through your unimpeded nose and one last thought about the significance of what you were about to do, you resigned yourself to your fate and, slowly but firmly, nodded.

“I had hoped for this and I promise that you won´t regret it. At the beginning, you may try to change your mind, but believe me, it will be worth it to have me as your guardian and caretaker. Once you have adapted to the new situation, you will be glad that you have chosen this way.”

Already starting to doubt your decision as you once again saw the obvious glee in your partner´s eyes, you steeled yourself for what was about to come. “And now to make it official and to confirm your commitment, let´s continue with your initiation. Just relax and open wide, and it will be over in a jiffy.”

Not in the mood for lame jokes but resolved not to question your decision any longer, you gave a muffled sigh and lay back to let it happen without having to watch it. Only moments later, you felt the tip of the first suppository penetrate your backdoor and winced involuntarily at the unfamiliar sensation. One after another was pushed inwards until all three of them were resting deep inside you.

Afterwards, your partner´s hands began to coat your genitals and your whole diaper area in a thick layer of barrier cream, followed by a hefty dose of baby powder. Only moments later, the diaper was folded around your properly pampered bottom and fastened tightly. It was not your first diaper of that kind, but it felt differently. You knew that you would be forced to used it very soon and that it would not be your decision when it would be changed. And it would only be the first one in a long line of diapers lining the way into your new life of diaper dependency. Against your will, your arousal grew even more at this thought.

“And now that you have accepted my offer and are finally back in diapers where you belong, let´s order some supplies for your training.” Eager at the prospect of what lay ahead, your mate, who had now become your caretaker, pulled a chair towards the tail end of your bed and sat down with a laptop to let you see the page shown in the current window. It was the page of the web shop where you had ordered your latest shipment of AB/DL diapers.

“Let´s see. We will definitely need some more of your favorite diapers. Or maybe some pink ones…, I bet they will look pretty on you. And, of course, some locking plastic pants. We need to make sure that you stay properly padded, after all. Oh yes, and some of those padded mittens that I can lock onto you. Hmmm…, while we are at it, what do you think about chastity? This extra small cage seems to be just the right size for you. I say, let´s take it. And, oh wow, have you seen these tunnel plugs? The extra large one looks amazing. Can you imagine having this one inside you? We absolutely have to take it. I´ll order the whole set so that we can gradually work up to it. And they even have catheters, isn´t that great? With this, you can start becoming diaper dependent in no time at all. Let´s see, what else they have…”

Silently whimpering with every new discovery because of their implications for your immediate future, you had no other choice but to passively observe your mate ordering each and every item needed to keep you in diapers for a very long time and to make sure that you would end up needing them in no time at all. Soon after, the first cramps kicked in as the suppositories started to do their work.

This would be a very long night and, judging from your partner´s shopping spree, this would only be the beginning.

(The picture that gave me the idea for this story was provided by mndiaperboi26 - https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/mndiaperboi26 - who gave me total freedom in regard to what kind of caption I create with it. This is the result. I hope that you like it!)

A fun little caption concerning some of the more twisted ways to deal with chronic masturbation.

The pics used in this caption were originally created and published by ABDreams.com

Look into the camera, sweetheart. Yes, that’s right. Perfect. Stare into that blank black ball on your nursery wall. Let me see the mingled relief and despair in those intelligent eyes. Let me see that fear, that arousal, that groveling, squirming, abject humiliation… Show me just how turned on you are, how embarrassed it makes you feel to be firmly bound, tightly gagged with your own babyish pacifier, and stripped naked on your very own changing table by your very own nursemaid…all while your daddy watches.

Such an absolute baby you are becoming, sweetheart. So immature, so infantile… Goodness, just look at you! You can’t even be trusted to stay put on your changing table, can you? No, you have to be cuffed and strapped down, securely fastened like a helpless, mindless little thing who can’t even control her own body. Nor can you, sweetie; I think the heap of heavy, smelly diapers over in that diaper pail can testify to that… No, we can’t trust you for anything anymore, sweetie - nor should we. You’re our baby now - mine and your pretty little nursemaid’s. You’re ours now, and we’re never going to let you forget. 

Keep staring into your nursery cam now, sweetheart. Remember who’s on the other side, gazing lovingly, in full arousal, at the beautiful sight you present. Think of me: your husband and daddy, the one you crave to please, the one you begged for this very treatment. Remember how you stammered out your longing to me last year, how you yearned to be babied, to be forcibly regressed into infancy? I do. Oh, I do. And because I love you, sweetheart, because I want to give you everything you desire…I gave this to you. Don’t you ever forget, sweetheart.

Be a good little baby now. Spread those beautifully smooth, babyish legs for your Nursie. Feel the soft tickle of the baby powder coating your tender skin, Nursie’s caressing fingers gently massaging it into your yielding thighs. Suckle that nipple Nursie has so firmly strapped into your pretty little mouth, feeling its plump roundness, recalling the feeling of sucking on something very different - something longer and stiffer… Don’t worry, sweetie - someday you’ll get to do that again… Until then, your dummy and your nice, full ba-ba’s will keep you satisfied, keep that lovely suckling mouth occupied…

Oh, yes. Here comes the diaper now - your diaper, honey, and no one else’s. Let the now-familiar musical crinkle fill your ears. Feel Nursie lifting your precious powdered bum, settling you onto that gently rustling, wonderfully thick padding you blushingly told me you love so much. Oh, why are you surprised to feel that extra stuffer being wrapped snugly around your pretty little princess parts? We all know by now just how much you wet, how heavy, full, and soggy your diapers inevitably become. You are a baby now, sweetheart. And babies don’t get to decide what they wear, if anything. Nursie and I will dress you - or not - as we decide. And you, as our baby, will comply. You have no choice…absolutely none.

And that is so incredibly liberating, isn’t it? You are our baby, and nothing more. No choices, no decisions, no grownup thoughts or worries. Yes, worry if you like about your past grownup life. Worry about whether your drenched diapers will leak or not as you plop down onto them with that adorably audible squish. Worry whether you can drink yet another bottle, forcing ever more formula into your swollen little belly… But remember: no amount of worry will ever change anything now, dear. We will treat you as we please - feeding, diapering, changing, dressing, burping you as we see fit. And you will never be able to change that.

Why? your beautiful blue eyes ask. Because you asked for this.

Look into the camera once more, sweetheart. Feel your mind dissolving into infancy, your old self receding. Embrace babyhood, my love - in all its innocent, delightful humiliation. It is my gift to you. Accept it now, blushing… squirming… awash in deliciously sensual, infantile humiliation.

Image Credit: ABDreams.com

Please keep my caption intact if reblogging; as long as you do, may your air-conditioning never break down. 

She couldn't believe it. Her dream has come true.

Since Abby was a little girl, she liked to be in diapers. But unfortunatly, everyone has to grow up and potty train. But now it was diferent.

Of course Abby was a diaper girl and a member of the ABDL community, but she never had the courage to become really incontinent and never could really have a 24/7 diaper period longer than 2 months. But recently, the gouvernment wanted to make a new law, where some criminales would become incontinent by surgery, and they were searching voluntiers for the first tests. And thats when Abby saw her oportunity. She aplied for thats reaserch, where she would be compensated so she never had to worry about money.

And now, after the surgery. She was finally happy. Incontinent and happy

Whoa! That was a loud one. Did somebody just make a big poopie for his first date?

Don’t be shy about it. I was really hoping I’d get a nice number 2 today. Most guys take weeks before they break the poop barrier. I’m more into guys who really know their way around a pamper. We met for a reason right? MDLB means good boys use their diapers for Mommy.

Good thing we have time before the movie. This mall has great mothering rooms. Very private. I can change you and feed you some boobie milk before the show. These puppies are ready to pop! What a great first date! I can’t wait to see the present you made me.

I do have to warn you that dirty, stinky diapers make me really really horny. So you might get to 3rd base today as well LOL! Or whatever me sucking you off during a dirty diaper change in a public place is in a baseball terminology. I never was good at sports. I’ve had these ladies since I was 13. I was more into babysitting.

My little one starts to wake from his nap under the shade of our tent, warm and flushed from sleep, with his paci still gently bobbing between his lips. He stretches, bunny clutched tightly to his chest, and makes the softest whimpery noise — like he’s not quite ready to give up his dream but knows Mommy’s here.

I reach down, brushing a few grains of sand from his cheek. “There you are, sleepyhead,” I whisper, leaning in to kiss his forehead. He opens those big, sleepy eyes and blinks up at me like a confused little duckling — soft, dazed, and so precious.

As I lift him into my lap, I feel it right away. That heavy, soggy squish between his thighs — warm and unmistakable. “Mmm… baby,” I hum teasingly, running a hand over the swollen front of his diaper. “Looks like someone had a big nap-time accident, huh?”

He lets out a shy little whimper and hides his face in my chest.

I lay him back on the towel with a kiss to his temple, grabbing the wipes and a fresh swim diaper. As I tear the sides on the old one, I can't help but giggle. “Oh sweetie, you really filled this one up, didn’t you? Poor squishy bum.” His cheeks are rosy now, squirming just a little, but I know he secretly loves this part — being totally bare, soft and exposed, right where Mommy can take care of every little need.

But there's another problem. Sand. It’s everywhere — sticking to his thighs, between his butt cheeks, clinging to every spot on his body.

“Alright, baby,” I say gently, helping him to his feet, his bare bottom catching the sun. “Let’s get that sandy bum rinsed off.”

He toddles beside me toward the outdoor shower, one hand clutching my fingers, the other still gripping his bunny. His steps are slow, and his head stays ducked down as we pass a few other beachgoers. His face is bright pink by the time we get there — bashful little thing, trying to hide behind me even though his bare cheeks are on full display.

“Aww, are you blushing, sweetheart?” I tease, brushing his hair from his eyes. “It’s okay. Everyone knows you’re just Mommy’s baby.”

I guide him under the warm water, holding him steady as the gentle spray hits his skin. He squeaks a little at the first touch, wiggling in place while I crouch down behind him. My hands move carefully — rinsing the sand from his back, his legs, and then finally down to his bottom. I take my time with that part, using slow circles to make sure every bit of grit is gone.

“Can’t leave any sand in those cute little cheeks,” I murmur, watching his blush deepen. “Gotta keep my baby all clean and comfy.”

By the time we head back to the tent, he’s clean, damp, and even more bashful than before — but there's a smile peeking out around his paci.

Back at the towel, I lay him down again, his bare skin warm from the sun and smelling faintly of saltwater. I powder him slowly, thoroughly — soft clouds puffing in the breeze as I work it into every fold and crease. The fresh swim diaper has little sea turtles on it, soft and puffy, and I stand him up to have him step into the swim diaper. “There,” I coo, smoothing it over. “Snug, crinkly, and ready for round two.”

Instead of a swim shirt, I decide to leave him bare-chested — his skin is just too soft and kissable to hide. His belly’s still a little round from lunch, and the way he giggles when I blow a raspberry on it? Irresistible. I slide his tiny swim trunks up his legs, tugging them over that thick diaper. They don’t quite hide it — the waistband of the diaper pokes out over the top, white and crinkly under the bright blue trunks.

“Too cute for words,” I say softly, adjusting the trunks just a little so the diaper still peeks out. “Let everyone see how well Mommy takes care of you.”

Then comes the sunscreen — cool and creamy against his warm skin. I rub it gently over his arms, his chest, his soft round tummy, down his legs and even the tops of his feet. He wiggles and giggles through it, squealing when I get to his ribs. “Almost done, silly goose,” I tease, planting a kiss on his nose.

That’s when Daddy walks over, towel slung over his shoulder and a smile already on his face. “Hey, there’s my sunshine boy,” he says, crouching next to us. “You all ready to go splash with Daddy?”

Our little one lights up immediately, wriggling up into his arms. Daddy scoops him up, patting that thickly diapered bum with one big hand. “Looks like Mommy got you all set. You're such a lucky boy,” he says, kissing his cheek and leaning down to give me a kiss.

They’re halfway to the water when it happens.

A flash of movement in the surf — slow, graceful — and our baby gasps. “Tuh… tuh… turtle!” he squeals, eyes wide, pointing frantically.

Daddy stops in his tracks, cradling him close. “You see the turtle, buddy?” he whispers, turning so they can both get a better look. The sea turtle bobs gently in the shallows, paddling calmly while the waves roll in around it.

Our little one is absolutely enchanted — slack-jawed with wonder, clutching Daddy’s neck while his legs kick excitedly in the air.

I watch them from the tent, hand resting over my heart, completely full. My sweet, squishy, sun-kissed baby boy — safe in his Daddy’s arms, dressed in nothing but his swim trunks and a diaper, thrilled by the simplest magic of the ocean.

Messy Caption Index

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

Keiko and the Bully

Showtime for Daphne

Baby Cassie at Play

Tessa’s Tribulations

Daphne’s Latest Patient

Auntie’s Little Stinker

Odette and Odile

Carmen’s Conditioning

One Dirty Date with Darren

Messy Training Tips

Baby Beckie

Sophie Makes a Stinky

Dreams of a Dirty Dolly

Betty’s the Boss

An Icky Orgasm for Ellie

Naomi’s Bet

Life with Auntie

Angel Dreams

Sheila and the IMP

Tiffany’s Tummy

A Date with Erika

Mona’s Messmaker