This Is A Work Of Fiction Depicting Consenting Adults Over The Age Of 18 Made For The Purpose Of Entertainment.

Tell us why you like your diapers more than dick

We know it’ll get you wet to type it out and tell the world

I love my diapers more than dick because they’re warm and squishy and bulky. I love filling them up and feeling them get more and more soggy and uncomfortable. I love playing in them (when I’m allowed), they always make me cum so much (when that’s allowed). I love being made to make them thicker and thicker until I have an unmistakable diaper bulge and waddle. They make me feel like an embarrassed oversized toddler; keeping me firmly in my place and reminding me what I am with every movement and wetting.

How I usually can be founds when I’m little 🙈🙊

Sleepover with the mean girl 🥺 Daddy made me go

ManyVids JFF

Boys Being Boys:

Alright, Tina and Stacey; now that you’ve both got your widdle pluggies in I want you to press those diapered bottoms up against each other. This next part might be a bit tricky, but now you’re gonna need to use the other sissy’s bottom to push YOUR plug in deeper. Got it?

Awww, it’s so adorable! You two look like you’re twerking on each other. Thankfully, I’m getting the whole thing on video for both of your mommies to see. I’m sure they’ll love seeing how much progress you two have made at the regression center.

It’s been what; three weeks? Do you two remember when you first got here and said our training was never gonna work? Now look at the both of you! You’re in silly, widdle outfits, sucking on pacifiers, and getting off by rubbing your butt-plugs together! Still think our training doesn’t work, girls?

(If you want to see how this story ends, go ahead and check it out on my Patreon!)

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No more thoughts now. No thoughts. Mind relaxing. Helpless mind feels good. Feels so good. Paralyzing relaxation. Draining your mind. Rewarding you. Good baby. Just baby thoughts. Baby thoughts…

Elsa's mind was shivering, caught in the maelstrom of words and music washing through her consciousness. No, not a baby. Not really. She was just listening to it on a dare, after all. Just a silly dare. Just something her BFF had jokingly suggested. They'd swap playlists for a week, force each other to listen to them every day. It was all about discovering new music, trying silly new kinds of ASMR, broadening their horizons…

You're a baby. You're a baby. You're just a baby. Good baby. Such a good baby in your diaper. Diaper baby. Diaper baby. Good diaper baby… You're just a baby. Sleepy baby thoughts.

She quivered in place, eyes slipping closed as the repetitive words echoed through her mind to the tinkling sound of a nursery music box. How weirded out she'd been upon hearing it for the first time, only two short days ago! How fun it had seemed at first. How relaxing, how trippy. But then the seductive female voice had begun to lead her ever deeper down into a bewildering rabbit hole of creepy ideas. Draining mind? Paralyzing? Being a baby? Diapers?

Just a baby. Good baby wets her diapers. Good baby needs her diapers. Good baby fills her diapers. Baby loves her diapers. Empty brain. Empty baby brain. Empty bladder. Full diaper.

Her fingers were slipping down now, driven as much by the promise of unholy pleasure as by anxiety. Over the edge of the counter. Down past the hem of her t-shirt. And then… they touched it. The sensation of infancy. The soft, velvety touch of an embarrassing new kind of underwear. The thick padding that had mysteriously shown up on her door just yesterday: hidden away inside a little box filled with nineteen other such neatly folded, cottony-soft rectangles…

Good baby. Wet baby. Squishy baby. Feels good. Feel so good. Feels just like a baby. Just a baby. You're a baby. You're a good, wet baby. Wet in her diapers. Wet in her diapers all the time. Always wet. Always good. Always good baby…

Her body wriggled reflexively, her mind simultaneously repulsed and yet seduced by the whispering voice. It was all so weird, so wrong. And yet… ohhhh. Oh, the indescribable sensation of that thick bulk between her legs – the soft hug of it enveloping her – the feeling of the thick padding rounding out her otherwise flat bum… She swayed and leaned forward, a moan escaping her lips as she convulsively thrust her diapered hips against the cabinet. Ugh, why did that feel so good? She wasn't a baby, not really. Surely she wouldn't in a million years want to be one, either. And yet…

Happy in your diaper. Wet and happy in your diaper. Happy baby. Good baby. Wet baby. Wet, happy baby. Feels so good. So good. Dribbling out. Wetting all the time. Feels good. Mind numb. No thoughts. Just wet. Just baby. Only baby…

She let out another suppressed moan – but this time it slipped past unheeded, drowned out by the seductive voice in her headphones. She could protest that she wasn't a baby, true. Deep down she knew she wasn't. But god, it felt so much better to mentally repeat what she heard – to agree just for the fun of it, to just give in and repeat the silken-voiced mantras slipping into her ears. Yes, she found herself murmuring internally, shivering with odd pleasure even as she thought it. Feels good. No thoughts. Just baby. Just wet baby. Wet baby…

And so the young woman writhed and ground and moaned aloud in the privacy of her little bathroom, heedless of the astonishing picture she made. She'd come out of it eventually, of course. Once the three-hour playlist had finished, that is. Once she'd succumbed to the intoxicating thrill of the hypnotic audio. And when she did, she'd be astonished to find that there, sagging heavily between her legs, was the bloated and urine-soaked evidence that the voice in her new playlist was in fact correct.

Elsa really was behaving just like a baby. And wetting her diaper really did feel better than anything she could have imagined.

Now that was one hell of a way of broadening horizons!

Image Credit: UKDiaperGirls.com

Be sure to check out my Patreon here if you want to read more of my short stories!

This has become something of a habit after I make messies now 😣

#diapergirl #abdlgirl #abdl #tbdl #diaper #adultbaby #diapermess

To say she had broken you would have been an understatement. A year ago, you had been the president of your sorority, hottest girl on campus, and with the GPA to possibly be Valedictorian. You had everything: brains, beauty, and dedication. The only thing you didn't have was a loyal boyfriend.

It was the beginning of your senior year. A new freshmen, Victoria, was rushing for your sorority. She seemed sweet enough, and she clearly had a dominate side. All of the other pledges followed her lead.

As president, you figured you would take her under your wing. Teach her the basics so one day she could take your place... It was supposed to be after you graduated...

Victoria, however, wanted power and quickly. You underestimated how far she would go.

One night, after a party, you had planned on surprising your boyfriend with some new lingerie. You knocked on his door, and he said to come on in.

Victoria was riding you boyfriend. You were shocked and desperately turned on. You had always known your boyfriend had a high drive, and you enjoyed when he was with other girl, but you had rules. No one from the university.

"Mark." You said. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Babe. Victoria said it was fine, that y'all were super close."

"We have rules."

"Shut up madam president."

"What did you just say to--"

"I said shut up."

You shut up.

"Come. Kneel at the bed. Kiss my feet."

You knew you shouldn't. What if word spread? What if... Victoria snapped her fingers and your feet dragged you to the edge of the bed.

"Good." Kiss my feet.

You did as you were told. The shame however could not override your arousal.

Afterwards, you were deathly afraid Victoria would reveal what happened to the other girls. But she didn't, she would do more sinister things. She'd whisper in your year, "Awe it was so cute when you begged me to make him cum." She'd show pictures of your boyfriend to the other girls and talk about all the things she'd do with him if he were single.

If you tried to stop her. Tell her to shut up. She'd look at you with a smile and shake her finger. "No. No. No." It would say. "Cuckies don't interrupt."

It continued to get worst. Sometimes, when it was just the two of you in a room, she tell you to get on your knees and kiss her feet or otherwise she'd spill the beans.

Months. The President of the sorority would knee at the feet of a freshmen: Tying her shoes, completing her homework, giving her rides to parties and waiting in the car.

Beauty. Brains. But, at the end of it all, you were her bitch. She said go, you asked how far. She said jump, you asked how high. She said good girl, you woofed like a puppy.

She worked slow and methodical though. She knew that the longer it went on, the more you'd come to accept your position.

So, at the last formal of your university career, Victoria rushed on stage.

"Hiiiii, everyone. I'm so happy to be here." She gave a long speech about how wonder the community was and how supportive her sisters were. "And finally, I just want to thank you president. She's been so wonderful."

Your hands began to shake. She called you up to the stage. As you reached for the mic to speak, she pulled it away. Leaning towards your ear, she whispered a command.

A tear slipped down your cheek as you knelt before her and kissed her heels.

Silence. Whispers. Laughter.

You slide up onto your knees. Victory petted your hair.

"Our kind and humble president is planning to stay on at the sorority to help me. She'll be my personal assistant and house maid." She smiled. "Can we give your former president and new maid a round of applause."

After that it was all down hill. Even though you were still a student for one more month, she forced you to wear a uniform in the sorority house. She made you call all the sisters "Miss and Ma'am." And... while he remained your boyfriend in name, she had dibs to every other part of him.