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

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

Do you want to go through with this deal?”

Photo credit: @babybelle1

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

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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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.

Game Over

Author's Note: This story is for readers 18+ only. All characters depicted in this work of fiction are 18 years of age or older.

Parker slapped his bedwetting rewards sheet on the glass countertop like he’d played a royal flush.

My stomach tightened into a knot.

The clerk glanced at the paper, then up at Parker, then through Parker and into the middle distance. “Reading rewards are redeemed at the pizza barn,” he said in a monotone. “One personal pan pizza with a single topping, excluding sausage and bacon. Not redeemable for anything from the prize counter. Not redeemable for cash. Not—” 

“Do I look like I’m in elementary school to you?" Parker interrupted. "I’m not in the reading program.” He turned around and shot a ‘can you believe this guy’ face at me because somehow being part of a diaper rewards program was less embarrassing than a reading program in his mind.

Parker jabbed his finger on the logo at the top of the sheet. A diaper with a crown on it. Then he pointed at a vinyl banner with the same logo on it that hung, half-obscured by poorly stitched elephant and zebra stuffies, on the wall behind the counter. “Royal Rumps Rewards,” it read in a blocky font. 

When I heard the words ‘Royal Rumps Rewards’ I wished my hoodie was the Big Daddy suit from Bioshock, insulating me from judgments and the sneering laughter of those in earshot. Or at least what I’d imagined they’d say. Not Parker. This was his superpower: he was fundamentally incapable of feeling shame or embarrassment. I suspected he’d done some arcane ritual that transplanted all his anxiety and self-consciousness into me at birth. 

I scanned the room, ears perked up for half-whispered laughter and pearl-clutching questions.

“Royal Rumps? Is that the diaper brand for adults?” 

“You must suck at games to wear diapers for prizes.”

“Is he wearing one now? I think I see some extra padding in his jeans.”

I didn’t hear anything like that. Not out loud, at least. Hearing them in my head was bad enough. 

The clerk turned and looked at the Royal Rumps banner as if seeing it for the first time. “Oh, right. Forgot about that.” He turned over his shoulder. “Clara, we have a couple of guys here for the weird diaper thing.” 

I drew my hoodie strings tight again. 

Clara was a senior citizen by Slice Shak staff standards. Early 30s with a smattering of 1990s pop culture buttons on her vest. She wore a strained smile. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail so tight it served as a facelift. She took a laminated sheet out of a drawer. “Diaper Partner Program,” it said simply at the top. 

“You’ll have to excuse Aden. It’s his first week. We’re proud of our partnership with Royal Rumps, aren’t we, Aden?” 

Aden grunted. I preferred Aden’s response to this whole thing. Wearing diapers when you didn’t have to, strictly speaking, was kinda weird. Dancing around it just felt patronizing. Condescending. 

“Show her your sheet, man,” Parker said. 

I slid my sheet onto the counter and stepped back. Parker could serve as the spokesman. I would’ve been happy—thrilled, even—to stay home and let him bring my sheet in with his, but that was against the rules. Or so Parker said. He was probably telling the truth; he didn’t hesitate to break a rule if he could get away with it. But he also hated doing anything alone. It was like he’d cease to exist if he didn’t have an audience. 

“Alrighty, let me look at these,” Clara said. She pulled out a calculator and ran her finger down Parker’s sheet, noting the unbroken rows of crescent-moon-with-a-raincloud stickers set against the night-sky background. She flipped the sheet over and continued to run her finger down that side, punching numbers into the calculator. “Wow. A perfect two months. That’s 500 points. Nice work, sweetie.” 

‘Sweetie.’ Was that part of the script as stipulated by Royal Rumps? Or was it impossible to look at someone who proudly admitted they woke up in a wet diaper every morning and not call them sweetie, cutie, or baby?

Parker snorted. 

“And do you solemnly swear, as a Knight of Castle Crinkle, that your account of your adventures in bedwetting is the truth?” Clara asked. 

‘Adventures in bedwetting.’ Royal Rumps loved that phrase. They plastered it all over their website and marketing materials. They even had an app—a mobile game of sorts—with that title. You filled in this cartoony map of a medieval fantasy land, accruing XP as you used your diapers. 

Parker stared at Clara, then he looked behind himself meaningfully. The line of impatient patrons grew by the minute. I could sense annoyance that we were taking so long. “Of course we did. I’m not a liar.”

Clara peeled a sticker off the Diaper Partner Program sheet and pressed it against Parker’s chest. A stylized diaper with a golden crown and “Nappied Knights,” with the ‘k’ tilted off at an angle. “Thanks for sharing your journey back into bedwetting with us.” 

She turned to me. “Now, let’s look at yours.” She ran her finger down my sheet, flipped it over, and did the same thing. “Excellent. 497 points. Great job.” 

“Wait, what?” Parker said. “There should be 500 points. Check again.” 

Clara’s strained smile faltered for half a second. “Yes, well, if you look here, there’s a day missing.” She pointed at the blank spot on the chart. A tiny blue-black square in a sea of stickers. 

“Bro,” Parker said to me. 

I shrugged.

He turned to Clara. “I’m sure it was a mistake. Can’t we just put a sticker on there and call it good?” 

Clara shook her head. “‘fraid not. That’s specifically forbidden in our agreement with Royal Rumps.” 

“See, but the thing is, we need 1,000 points for the drone. What if we throw some tickets in the mix?” He leaned forward and rested his fists on the countertop, favoring Clara with his cockiest grin. “I’m a wicked shot at skee ball.” 

“No combining offers,” Aden interjected.

Parker shot him a withering glance. 

“What about the boombox,” Clara said. She pointed at the dusty box. “That’s only 750 points. Or the MP3 player. That looks nice, right? You can put a bunch of songs on that thing.” 

“I have an Iphone. I don’t need a fucking MP3 player, Clara.” He spat her name like it was a curse. 

Clara’s professional smile evaporated. “Then I suppose you’ll need to come back tomorrow. Oh, wait. The half-off discount ends today. That’s a shame. I guess your ‘adventures in bedwetting’ will need to continue for another two months. Give or take a few nights.” She stared down Parker. He looked like he was ready to vault over the countertop and strangle her.

The chatter behind us had dropped to a low, whispery murmur. We were moments from brazen snickers. Pointing fingers. Frantic, emoji-laded texts to friends about the freaks holding up the Slice Shak line. 

I elbowed Parker’s arm. “Come on. Let’s go. ” 

He snatched his sheet off the countertop and stormed off, muttering something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like ‘uptight bitch.’ 

I grabbed my sheet. I considered apologizing to Clara. But that’d mean another few seconds in line. 

She beat me to it with a “Thank you for sharing your journey back to bedwetting with us.” She mashed a sticker onto my chest. A diaper with a pirate hat and a saber floating off to one side. Beneath it: “Sailing the Soggy Seas.” 

I gave her an awkward smile, mouthed ‘sorry,’ and walked away.

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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.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She left without another word. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But your friends are coming over.”

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

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

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

“Sure they have.” April said simply.

My stomach dropped again. “What??”

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

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

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

Oh god. 

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

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

******

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

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

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

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

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

“Is he wet?”

“I think so!!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Your time starts…now!”

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

“Look at how much your attitude has improved! This started as a punishment but I’m making it permanent. The diapers are staying!“

To see all my NSFW captions and to suport the blog: AllMyLinks 🍑

Kayla:  Ummm…Julie what is that sticking out of the waistband of your shorts? And don’t say those are panties, because they’re not like any panties I’ve ever seen before.  Plus, every time we were practicing our cheer routine I kept hearing a crinkle coming from you.

Julie:  Oh, that. That’s my diaper. (says it nonchalantly as she lifts her shirt up to expose the waistband of her diaper to her friend and fellow cheerleader Kayla) 

Kayla:  Your DIAPER! Why are you wearing diapers Julie?

Julie:  Well it’s a long story, but basically when I was young I was difficult to potty train.  I mean super difficult.  I would pee or poop my pants all the time, and would run away from my parents when they tried to take me to the potty, I pooped and peed every pair of big girl panties my parents tried to make me wear, and was only truly happy when I was wearing my diapers.  So my parents kind’ve gave up and just decided to let me stay in diapers.

Kayla:  Wow! Really?! And you don’t ever use the potty or try to be potty trained?

Julie:  I mean my parents tried throughout the years by suggesting that other girls my age used the potty, but I just never wanted to give up my diapers, so eventually they gave up and let me just stay in diapers 24/7.

Kayla:  And it doesn’t bother you to pee or poop your pants while the rest of us girls go and sit down on the potty?

Julie:  Nope, in fact I love it!  I love being able to pee and poop wherever I am and whenever I want.  I don’t have to worry about having to rush and find a bathroom worried I’ll have an accident like so many girls our age.  And my activities don’t have to be cut short or interrupted because I have to pee or poop.  I just go in my diaper.

Kayla:  But what about changing your diaper?  That still takes time doesn’t it?

Julie:  It does, but I don’t change my own diapers.  When my parents let me stay in diapers they said that part of the deal was I wasn’t ever allowed to change myself.  So they change me, the school nurse changes me, my babysitter changes me, even Coach Mullins changes me.

Kayla:  No Way!  Coach Mullins changes you too!  OMG!  I always wondered where she was taking you when we would have water breaks during practice or halftime during the games we cheered at.

Julie:  Yep, she was taking me to have my diaper changed.

Kayla:  Well, I think that’s pretty cool Julie that you’re brave enough to wear diapers.  I bet it’s kind’ve convenient.  Wish I had a diaper right now…I’ve really gotta pee.

Julie:  Yeah, it’s pretty great!  And you’re more then welcome to wear one of mine anytime.  But for now, you better go to the bathroom before you wet yourself.  As for me, I need to go see Coach Mullins.

Kayla:  OMG! Julie!  I thought I smelled something…  

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