Kinkyberen - Kinkyberen

Look what my Daddy made me!!!! 🥰🥰 @guyinyourfuture

Poor Bella squirmed, she knew full well what the contraption she was strapped into was for. Her work colleague had found out Bella's secret submissive desires when they both ended up at a fetish night the week before. Bella couldn't believe it when Janice, the disgusting old lecherous woman in her HR department had walked in, dressed in PVC and leading a girl in her 20s on a leash, grinning hungrily when she spotted Bella across the room in lingerie looking like a deer in headlights. Bella had begged the woman not to tell anyone she was here, exploring her secret submissive desires, and the older woman had agreed - on one condition. Bella was to become her toy the following weekend.

One week later, Bella found herself at the HR manager's house, dressed up like a cheap whore.

"Now now, sit still Bella, or else I'll be telling everyone else in the office what a dirty little submissive freak you are." Bella whimpered at Janice's words, as the large woman scooted up onto the stool, and hiked her skirt up, allowing the fabric to fall over Bella's head.

Bella felt wet thighs wrap around her as she was pulled in until her nose pressed against Janice's sex, thick matted curls of pubes tickled Bella's nose and her face was immediately drenched in a mix of pussy juice and sweat from the dominating woman.

"Eat me you little slut" Janice ordered, reveling in her control. She pulled out her phone and began recording, lifting her skirt for a moment to get a nice face shot of Bella sucking on her clit, mascara smeared on her cheeks as she obeyed.

Yes Bella had only agreed to this weekend, but soon enough the poor girl would be signing a contract keeping her wrapped around Janice's finger for the rest of her career.

Janice nearly came at the thought, but pushed the girl's face away just in time to hold off. She wanted to savour this submissive little tart's downfall for a little longer first.

Feels Like The First Time

This caption was saved by this post by @cookie-goodboy whose “baby book” idea resurrected this caption from my draft box graveyard.

She looks down at her soggy diaper in utter disbelief. “B-but I d-don’t even remember going potty, Daddy!”

“Does that excite you, Princess?”

“I…umm, I think so. But does this mean…”

“Yes, silly. It means you’re no longer potty trained. You’re Daddy’s diaper-dependent pamper packer, forever.”

“I just thought the first time I had a real accident would be…I don’t know…”

There it is again: The First Time. She’s focused on the “firsts” of our relationship and her diaper journey from the beginning.

I remember how excited she was the first time I put a diaper on her. The first time she made stinkies in front of me. The first time she went out in public diapered. The first time I changed her in public.

Every first was a cause for celebration.

She’s been so focused on the “firsts” that she never stopped to think about all the “lasts” in her life.

But I did.

And now that she’s unpotty-trained, it’s time to show her the project I’ve been secretly working on these last few years.

Her big book of “lasts.” She’s finally ready to read it. It has it all:

The last time she went out in public undiapered. The last time she used the potty for tinkles. The last time she used the potty for stinkies. The last time she changed her own diaper. The last time she got to ask me to change her diaper.

But there are a few things she probably won’t be expecting.

Like the last time we had sex. The last time she had an orgasm without a diaper. The last time she went to bed without a bedtime. The last time I thought of her as an adult. There’s plenty more to choose from, but you get the idea.

I almost feel bad, but what did she expect? I can’t treat someone who wants to become an unpotty-trained pamper packer as an adult—adults don’t enthusiastically give away every aspect of their adulthood so they can helplessly fill their diapers.

Obviously adult things like sex are out the window. Did she really think I’d want to go down on her knowing she poops herself three times a day?

Gross.

I’ll treat her exactly how she wants to be treated: as an unpotty-trained a toddler. Because that’s what she is to me now.

She’s not my girlfriend. She gave up orgasms and adulthood for a lifetime of diaper changes, early bedtimes, and Disney cartoons.

I’m sure she’ll throw a tantrum tonight when I show her. But what is she going to do? Not wear a diaper? It’s far too late for that. She needs them now—just like she always wanted.

I’ll smile the whole time she’s whining about her “lost” adulthood. The adulthood she willingly gave away for the pleasure of being wrapped in her plastic prison.

Maybe I’ll even start a new scrapbook for her. Her tantrum can be the first entry: Baby’s first tantrum as Daddy’s permanent babygirl.

Padded Little Paradise

When Mommy Takes Control

Image Credit: ABDreams.com “Aww… you like that, don’t you? You silly little thing!” A rustle. A quiet moan of agreement, muffled by the rubb

And here it is: a brand-new, extra-long caption! Click on the link for the full (FPN-containing) image!

–––

Image Credit: ABDreams.com

“Aww… you like that, don’t you? You silly little thing!”

A rustle. A quiet moan of agreement, muffled by the rubber nipple between the naked young woman’s lips. A pathetic little wriggle and nod as, with eyes screwed shut and face drawn in a silent transport of humiliated ecstasy, she assented to the amused words of her caretaker.

“Goodness, just look at you! All naked and helpless for me, like the sweetest little baby!” Rhoda continued, her warm voice dropping into a sexy purr of delight. Her hand was working gently, pressing the thick cotton booster suggestively into her partner’s freshly powdered groin. “Anyone else would be completely, utterly humiliated to be treated like this, you know. But you’re not just anyone else, honey, are you?”

Her voice was dripping with loving condescension as she leaned forward, elegantly mascaraed eyes alight with pleasure. “What are you then, sweetie? Go on, tell me. What are you?”

A muffled, barely audible response, between shy and shame-filled moans of ill-concealed pleasure. “I- I’m a ba- a baby– Jus’ a baby-” She was wriggling under Rhoda’s touch, her naked body tensing in irresistible pleasure at such a shameful admission. “Jus’ a siwwy- wih’ul- baybee…“

Rhoda laughed then: laughed over the quiet crinkle of the outspread diaper, laughed over the pathetic little mewlings of her Little partner. “Oh, honey, you’re more than a little baby now. You’re my little baby – mine, and no one else’s. And you know what? You’re going to be my baby for good: forever and ever.”

She bent down and cupped one of her partner’s petite breasts in her hand, smilingly weighing it as if mentally comparing it to her own voluptuous curves. “Just look at how sweet and cute you are without your clothes, baby! So naked and little and innocent, so very, very babyish…”

She giggled and gave the exposed nipple a tiny tweak, eliciting a muffled gasp of ill-suppressed surprise and pleasure from her partner. “Such cute little baby boobies, too – so small and adorable! You know, I think they look so much better like this. We’re gonna leave them nice and naked and free from now on, of course. No more of those silly padded bras. No more trying to pretend you’re a big girl when you’re so clearly not…”

“Yeh- yefh, Mommee-” came the groveling response, and Rhoda chuckled once more, a rush of dominant pleasure coursing through her at the sound of such helpless submission. “Aww, good baby!” she commended, her hand working with renewed vigor between her partner’s splayed legs. “And you’re gonna learn to love your diapers more and more every day, too. Believe me – you’re simply not going to have a choice! You may think sometimes that you do… but, oh, sweetie…”

She broke off, chuckling with dark pleasure as her partner squirmed and writhed under her relentless touch. “Sweetie,” she resumed, “There’s simply no way you can resist me – not even if you wanted! I’m your Mommy now, after all, and I know what’s best. I know exactly how to deal with you… how to make you do every little thing I want… how to train you and teach you and remind you that no matter how big you once were, you’re going to be nothing but an adorable, helpless, brainless little baby by the time I’m done with you…”

The red-faced, labored breathing and the tight-drawn muscles of her partner testified to the groveling pleasure and rising arousal within. She was close now, and with every suggestive thrust of those fingers pressing the soft booster against her shaven and powder-covered pussy – with every condescending word that left her partner’s lipstick-covered lips – she was edging ever closer to one of the most gloriously shameful climaxes she could imagine. Soon she would be cumming: not from penetration, nor even from a vibrator, but from the sheer humiliation and throbbing pleasure of her partner forcing her to become a helpless, laughable, infantilized little toy.

But then… just as she was teetering on the brink of bliss… Rhoda stopped. And oh, the stifled wail of disappointment that escaped her partner’s pacified lips sent fresh shivers of pleasure rippling through her.

“Aww, such an excitable baby!” she crooned, shaking her head at the young woman’s plaintive whines. “You’re getting way too excited for a baby girl as little and innocent as you. But don’t worry,” she added, with a sly little giggle that set her partner a-tremble . “I’m sure we’ll eventually find a way to scratch that silly little itch you seem to have between your pretty little legs. Maybe after you’ve shown me just how well you can fill your pampers… how soggy, and saggy, and smelly such a sweet little baby’s diaper ends up when Mommy takes control…”

And in that moment, the mortified little wail of disgust from her charge sounded in her ears as one of the most beautiful sounds in the entire world.

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Advanced Dungeons & Diapers: Chapter 1

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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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

Rian's New Sister

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!

Part Two

Go to Part One

The Babies of New York City

Fine I’ll write more smut. I’ll even make it relevant to the current housing crisis. Please message me any spelling / grammar mistakes you find. I will also remove pictures at your request.

I am also not sure this story is particularly good so any feedback is appreciated.

The women of New York City weren’t smart.

All Mike had to do to lure them in was offer his apartment at a price below market rate. Within days of listing he would have hundreds of applicants pleading to rent it out. Of those hundreds of applicants, he could always find a few young beautiful women who looked like they could be easily trained.

The first step was always simple: let them move in normally. These young women would start cautiously but slowly over the days and months let their guards down. Once they stopped locking their doors and sleeping with one eye open, he could spring the first part of the trap.

The girls never questioned the free speakers he provided in the apartment – too excited about the high-quality music to question his intent. The hypnosis tapes were almost too good to be true. Subliminal messaging massaging their minds as they slept, keeping them just awake enough to take in the training.

After a week of their minds being bombarded with suggestions as they slept, they would find themselves slipping up and having tiny accidents during the day. Take Molly as an example, the most recent of his conquests.

One day, seemingly out of nowhere, she found herself with a nasty case of stress incontinence. Every chuckle, sneeze, and startle sent a spurt of urine into her underwear. She was sure this wasn’t the way it had always been for her, but for reasons she couldn’t explain it didn’t bother her all that much. Molly had such an easy solution – Goodnites! She wasn’t sure where the idea came from, but it was perfect for her newfound bladder problems.

Sometimes when she really thought about having to wear training panties her head would start to hurt, but she found that sucking her new pacifier always calmed her down. A damp pull-up and a pacifier between her lips just felt normal to Molly.

But Mike wanted far more than a bunch of barely potty-trained girls dumbly sucking pacifiers. The tapes progressed over time, infecting their minds as they nibbled their pacifiers and dribbled into their training panties.

As their programming progressed, the girls would lose more and more of their continence. Stress incontinence turned into a complete inability to control their bladders. This was Mike’s favorite part, because the demotion of the girl to her diapers was unique every time.

Some girls, like Miranda, would refuse to believe that anything was different. She woke up every morning with a leaking pair of training panties and had to move to the thickest diapers she could find, but in her mind, everything was completely normal. She had no reason to change how she dressed, despite the formerly form-fitting skirts doing nothing to hide her ridiculously thick padding. She just viewed herself as an adult wearing slightly thicker underwear and had no reason not to do the things she loved (liked visiting the cinema).

But every girl really was unique – some girls spiraled almost immediately after leaking in their Goodnites once. Morgan was the most recent example. She loved the cheap rent and made no association between the apartment and her newfound potty problems. She handled the transition to thicker diapers in the complete opposite way.

Morgan gave up control so easily. She settled on even thicker diapers than Miranda, not minding how the infantile characters and pink color made her look like she enjoyed wearing them. As she grew accustomed to wearing and wetting them, she seemed to lose most of her purpose in life. She spent most of her days crawling around her apartment, diaper on full display and pacifier firmly tucked into her mouth. She felt at peace like this – not a single thought under the infantile pink bow she attached to her hair each morning.

However, the transformation wasn’t complete until the girls messed themselves. It would have been so easy to have them squatting down in their pampers after a day of a new hypnosis tape, but Mike wanted this part to always be on their own. It was fun to see how each girl would end up pooping their pants. Some girls gave into the convenience once they were diapered 24/7 anyway, while some fought long and hard before failing in public because of some bad food.

His favorites were always the accidents – the ones that the girls couldn’t stop. Sure, it was adorable to watch them purposefully bend over and fill their Pampers on purpose, grunting softly as their diaper expanded beneath them, but there was something even better when they weren’t doing it intentionally.

Michelle was one of his favorite victims. She tried to take the route of adapting her diaper to her every day life. She was studying to be a doctor and wouldn’t let a temporary bout of incontinence ruin her life’s work.

But her padding had made her forgetful – and it was nearly two hours into her three-hour exam before she realized she hadn’t used the bathroom beforehand. She had gotten so used to peeing her pants like a toddler that she hadn’t even considered what to do if she had to poop. It was an online exam though, so any slight glance away from the camera would mean an automatic failure. She weighed every option multiple times before giving up, feeling the warm wet mush fill the backseat of her diaper. She let out a soft moan as her stomach emptied itself, the warm embrace of her shit filled diaper expanding over her entire backside.

That first messy accident was all it took for the rest of the training to kick in. The feeling of messing a diaper was so unique that it could be handled distinctly in the hypnosis tapes. Every girl who messed her diaper encountered the same fate.

They would return to their bed in the apartment and find a vibrating wand waiting for them. Their minds as mushy as their diapers, they would lay on the bed and get to work, humping the vibrations, desperate for sexual release. For some girls, it was easy, and they would break within minutes of the vibrations pounding against their pussies.

But for other girls, it was much harder. Some had never orgasm-ed before, and so would have to work even harder for this first one. Humping away as the vibrations enveloped their throbbing clits, they knew they wouldn’t be able to stop until they orgasm-ed.

The orgasm wasn’t just symbolic, it was a literal final step. The orgasm would release their remaining reluctance to serve. It would empty their heads of their old lives, allowing them to be transitioned into their new ones. Once they came into their messy (and almost always wet) diapers, their minds would be bound to him.

When the newest girl was subjugated, mind incapable of forming a thought without his approval, he would send the girl before to collect her. The funniest one was when he sent Marisa to collect her own sister! Marisa didn’t even look at her sister with an ounce of recognition as she gather the pathetic girl up, brought her to the nursery, and gave her the first diaper change of her new life.

He had the old girls spend a week helping the new ones adjust before selling the old and repeating the cycle. The stream of easily infantilized girls looking for cheap rent really seemed to be endless.

The babies of New York City were so stupid… but they looked so good in their diapers.