I Got To Meet Dreamsofdaddy Yesterday And She’s Such A Sweet Heart. Hanging Out With Her And Badlilblubunny

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

WETTYORNAH’s Hypno Guide

DISCLAIMER: Hypnosis isn’t for everyone. I understand that the idea of it is hard to believe for many people. The truth is, I’m with those people. However, the magic of hypno is letting yourself try and believe it. It takes effort from a good hypnotist and effort from a good subject. If you’re expecting results off the bat, you’re failing yourself. Give it time, listen again and again, and try to believe. Eventually, you might find yourself in a situation you can’t believe your way out of 🤷🏻‍♂️

I’ve labeled them based on the type of hypno I like. As I’m DL rather than AB, you won’t find much about regression or baby like behaviors. This list is mostly meant for encouragement to wear diapers, or bladder control. The three categories are bedwetting (self explanatory), lifestyle (stuff like committing to diapers, realizing they’re right for you), and fuck yourself over (dangerous hypno that usually has a condition, like if you give in and wet, you’ll never be able to stop) They are mostly meant for male listeners as far as I can tell.

So let’s get into it

BEDWETTING/LIFESTYLE

Curse Night Diapers - EMG

This one forces you to wear diapers to bed, along with wetting them. This one doesn’t exactly encourage incontinence, but the fact you’re going to bed in diapers which you will wet will fulfill that desire to become a bedwetter.

BEDWETTING

Bed Wetter - Sarnoga

Doesn’t encourage diapers, but does make you enjoy bedwetting. There’s mention that you’re too immature to choose diapers. This file basically sets you up to become a bedwetter and end up having someone make the choice for you that you need to wear diapers to bed. Great to use with the help of someone else.

FUCK YOURSELF OVER/BEDWETTING Bedwetter Fear to Reality - EMG

Makes you anxious about having an accident, you choose to wear diapers or not. Of course, if you do have an accident, that’s it. One leads to another. Dangerous if you don’t want to find yourself trapped

LIFESTYLE

Diaper Dependence 1 - Champtehotter

The first in his series of making you diaper dependent. This file causes you to commit to diapers and explains why you need them. This is a great first step, and then you can move on to the next one once this one has fucked your mind.

LIFESTYLE

Diaper Train 1 - Sarnoga

This hypno also encourages you to commit to diapers. Each lesson will have you wearing diapers more, first at home alone, then around people, then out in public. It does this by making you feel like you can’t use a toilet to get relief. WARNING: this one did mess with me, and in some files encourages bedwetting even when sharing a bed just to prove you really need diapers.

LIFESTYLE

Every Good Boy Wears Diapers - Sarnoga

Explains every reason why you need diapers to avoid making messes. Diapers are the best choice for boys is the main message

LIFESTYLE

The Diaper Does It - Sarnoga

Makes you love your diapers and give them your control. The main twist of this file is that if you don’t wear diapers every so often, you will start having accidents in your pants. Basically makes a timer in your head so you must come back to diapers.

LIFESTYLE/FUCK YOURSELF OVER

Master your Bladder -

Teaches you that your bladder is in control of your life, and the only way to fix it is to take the control away. Causes bladder incontinence.

FUCK YOURSELF OVER

Diaper Drug - Champtehotter

Imagine you’ve been injected with a drug that makes you love your diapers and become bladder incontinent. As long as you don’t cum, it won’t be permanent. I dare you to listen.

FUCK YOURSELF OVER

Pantswetter Incontinence

Makes you have accidents whenever and wherever until you have no choice but to wear diapers.

Thats it for now, I definitely got more but this took longer than I thought. I like every single one of these, and I think you will too. Let me know how it goes or which one you enjoyed most.

Mummy's Girl - Part 1

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good girl.”

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

The 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.

Padded Little Paradise

On Your Knees

Image Credit: PennyBarber.com “That’s right, on your knees, little sissy girl. That’s where you belong when you’re here with us, after all.

Another one fresh from the archive and released on Wordpress. Enjoy, ya little sissies! ;-)

Oh don't mind me dear I'm just opening up the window to get some a breeze in, you just go back to playing. Yeah baby, just some fresh air. Well it's still a little stinky in here sweety and I want it smelling fresh when my next patient comes.

Oh silly have you forgotten what I told you already? You're going home today, your mommy is coming to pick you up! No silly you're wife! She's just your mommy now, like how I was Dr. Philips when you came here but now I'm Nana.

Right I know it must seem so long ago, I can hardly believe it's only been two weeks myself. More treatment, oh honey it'd be silly do that- you're cured! I can confidently say as a medical professional you no longer have a wetting problem baby.

Shshsh baby no need to get upset, you see diapers are the cure to your wetting problem. When your wife dropped you off here we knew that this was the likely outcome. Yes this is intensive therapy, your wife didn't lie. Sometimes this helps people stop wetting, once in a blue moon. For most of the people I treat though the cure for their incontinence is more involved. You see your bed wetting and your pants wetting were only problems that you noticed. You had others too you know. You were unhappy, you were stressed, angry, very controlling too. Now those problems are gone! I've been sending your wife videos of you and she's said she hasn't seen you this happy since you two were dating!

No, a life of big adult worries isn't for you, so I have prescribed a full regression until further notice. Hey don't look so grumpy, this is good news! This means when you get home you'll have a big comfy crib like you do here. You'll have fun toys for you to play with all day. You'll have even more cozy clothes to roll around in and best of all, you wont ever have to worry about wet or dirty pants ever again thanks to the thick diapies you'll always be wearing. I'll even let you in on a secret, your wife has been taking pills so she can have milky boobies just like Nana!

Still with the grumpy face huh mister? Do I need to take you to the naughty corner? We haven't had to visit there in quite some time I'd hate to have our treatment end there- Oh, ugh silly me! You think I'd know that face by now. Of course it's time for your mid morning poopy. Well go right ahead baby, your wife will be here to pick you up soon and I think greeting her in a stinky, droopy, poopy diaper is the perfect way to start this new chapter. Good thing I opened the window now. Hopefully the stinky smells will leave before the next patient arrives this evening!

Your girlfriend looked back at you and grinned. She was always mischievous when you put her in diapers. In truth, it had been a joint decision, something to spice up your love life. But now you were unsure who was enjoying it more, you or her.

“What’s so funny, sweetie?” You asked as she began to bounce on her pink rubber ball. A moment later the smell hit and you knew exactly why she was squishing her diapered bottom up and down. She giggled and you adopted a mock scolding tone. “Looks like someone wants to make her next diaper change a hassle. Such a. Dirty girl, though I bet you’d like to get dirty in another way. Somebody wants some attention, doesn’t she?”

Your girlfriend’s bouncing transformed, becoming more akin to humping. A blush spread across her face and her tempo increased.

“Hmmm, I don’t know. Naughty girls who hump their diapers don’t get changed out of the stinky messes they make.”

Her face fell. Sure, she liked being messy, momentarily, but after a while even a fun, messy diaper got old. 

“Tell you what. Put on a show for daddy, and then we’ll go into the other room and have a little ‘playtime,’ if you know what I mean.”

She most certainly did know what you meant, and beamed again before getting to it. You sat back, content to watch and wait as your messy, moaning diaper girlfriend worked her way to the first of many orgasms.