destinedfordiapers

[destinedfordiapers]

Humor Me

“… and, ten, awake and alert.” Daddy’s voice switches from the soft, slow drone to his usual chipper rhythm. “OK honey, how are you feeling?” He smiles at you warmly.

You sit on the leather chair across from Daddy’s mahogany desk in the study, arms folded across your ample chest, trying not to smirk or roll your eyes. You’ve listened to him drone on, reading his new script for the last ten minutes. At least it’s over now and you can get back to your day.

“I feel fine Daddy,” you reassure him. He glances down, his eyes leaving yours to trail lower to where your jean shorts bunch between your crossed legs. You don’t want him to be disappointed, but you dutifully uncross your legs, showing him the lack of even the smallest wet spot. At no point did you lose focus, or go into any kind of trance. “Sorry, didn’t work this time!” You shrug playfully.

You start to stand but Daddy holds out his hands in a pausing gesture, the one that says, humor me a moment. You sit back down, failing to keep the frustration out of your posture.

Daddy’s face doesn’t show the disappointment that you expected though. He looks intrigued, thoughtful. “Hmm. Maybe the Ericksonian method isn’t quite right for this then.” A quick smile flashes across his face and he sets his hands flat on the desk. “Well— maybe next time! So, what did you have going today honey?” As he waits for his answer, his hands open the desk drawer on top and remove something from inside, casually placing it on the desk between you.

“I was thinking about baking some bread later, and I need to take the dogs for a walk too, and we should restock the deep freezer at Costco. Did you wanna come wif… wiiiiff….” you start to slowly trail off as your eyes register the object. You’re suddenly aware of your tongue in your mouth, and you trip over your last word.

“Come with you?” Daddy finishes. “Are you alright honey?” He manages to keep the smile off his face but not out of his voice. Not that you can see anything right now except the pacifier on the desk. A thought crosses your mind—why does he have one of those?— and is instantly replaced with an entirely more reasonable question: why don’t I have one of those?

The roof of your mouth feels strange. No, not strange— more. Curiously, you can’t seem to stop feeling it, the smooth tissue there, the way it rubs against your tongue. You lick your lips. You can’t help it. The plastic on the tab is the most wonderful shade of green, a light sage color. A single droplet of drool escapes the left side of your mouth. You barely notice. “Whas dat,” you moan quietly, enraptured by the

Your arms uncross and you lean forward, toward the pacifier. As you do, a sudden very rude noise trumpets from behind you. The rapid pancake of warmth in the seat of your jean shorts feels nice, relieving, but it’s distracting; you furrow your brows momentarily, face going red with a slight strain, and do what you need to so you can go back to thinking about the lovely pacifier on Daddy’s desk. More soft wet sounds emanate from your backside.

Daddy’s eyebrows raise at the loud, blushy sound. “Uh oh honey. Sounds like Daddy’s going to have to clean up his chair!” He chuckles with unworried amusement, rising and coming around the desk to stand to your left, then pauses, watching you scoot forward on your messy bottom toward the desk, your eyes locked in where he knew they wound be. “Go ahead,” Daddy offers you encouragingly. “You can have it sweetie. You know where it goes.”

You reverently pick up the pacifier, turning it over in your hand, and pop it into your mouth.

Ecstasy. Heat unbidden, a deeply sensual ache, rises between your legs as you involuntarily grasp yourself, thighs clenching and unclenching frantically. You suckle gratefully, your breaths coming deep and thankful through your nose. You smell something awful. Your tongue swirls repeatedly, rhythmically, around the soft, yielding silicone between your eager lips. It feels so very good, smells so beautiful, tastes like heaven. You want this to last forever.

Daddy snaps his fingers quietly and you are back to where you’d been. You tongue slows and finally stops.

You’re sitting in his study, but now you’re aware that you’re sitting in a pile of your own mess, a massive poop that you pushed out into your jean shorts just a moment ago. You’ve got a pacifier in your mouth. And the crotch of your jean shorts is cold and damp, and you know without looking or feeling that you’ve peed yourself, even though you don’t remember peeing yourself or even needing to go pee. Your hands are between your legs, still tense, feeling the need to stimulate your needy girl parts.

You start to flush bright red as you realize what’s happened. You look at the clock. It’s not 12:30, it’s 2pm. You’ve been in Daddy’s study—not just there, you’ve been hypnotized— for over two hours*.* After months of trying, it worked. Daddy made you go potty in your pants, just like you’ve always wanted to, just like you described the fantasy to him, just like the helpless little baby you’ve always known you are deep down. You glance up at Daddy, the pacifier now hanging limply from the corner of your mouth. “Uhhhh… uh ohh..” A slow, shy smile starts to creep up your reddened cheeks.

Daddy’s smile is like sunbathing, all warmth and light and love. “Looks like the Ericksonian approach took better than we expected, eh little one?” He reaches his hand out to take yours. To lift you from the chair. To take you into the nursery. To clean you up, and maybe even put you in the diaper you know you belong in.

You let out a small sigh and suck the pacifier back into your mouth and close your eyes. Part of you wants to stay in the chair, wiggle your hips in your own icky, and shove both hands beneath the waistband and rub and suckle until you cum so hard you see stars.

But Daddy has other plans… and they’re bound to be at least as good.

You shyly take one wet hand from between your legs and grasp his hand, ready for everything that comes after this.

[destinedfordiapers]

Awwww good girl!! Just like I told you! What a cutie patooie diaper dumper you are!

I’m sure the crinkles are unfathomably adorable!

Keep dancing, crinklebutt!

I'm having so so much fun doing cute lil dances in my diapies! I'm wearing a megamax and had a few drinks and I'm dancing to some cute music. I love feeling my damp diaper swishing around hehehehe. I love being a silly diaperbutt :3

the song btw is baby shark and I'm wearing a gura outfit I got a while ago >w> it's good quality too. Comfy and even comes with a tail on an elastic belt. Which is perfect for also adding security to the top of my diapers >w<

[destinedfordiapers]

Punctually Pampered

Elanor stares up at the ceiling, watching as the shadow of the trees danced across her nursery ceiling, the only light in the room coming from behind her pink curtains, casting a rosy hue throughout the brightly colored room. 

She was supposed to be sleeping.

But, sleeping mid day was a lot easier said than done. Elanor lifted her bunny friend, Butternut, up into the air above her, bouncing her around playfully as she giggled to herself. 

Butternut was so silly.

She brought her furry friends face down to her, giving her a big kiss through her periwinkle Binkie.

Just about that time the door to Elanor nursery jiggled. She gasped,

Daddy was coming to get her.

She hastily tucked Butternut back into place under her arm, closing her eyes tightly to appear as though she was sleeping. There she lay, as still as possible, praying she didn’t giggle and blow her cover as Daddy approached her. 

In the doorway stood Oliver, peering into his little one's nursery. Smiling at her sound asleep figure in her crib.

Or so he thought. 

He quietly made his way through the nursery and to his little one’s crib, leaning over the railing.

It takes everything in Ellie to not erupt into a fit of giggles as she feels Daddy’s presence, his tall frame casting a new shadow over her as he stands at the foot of her crib. 

Don’t laugh, don’t laugh, don’t laugh.

But Daddy was already well aware of his little one’s schemes. You see, when his little one was actually sleeping, her Binkie always bobbed slowly, rhythmically.

But this time, however, it was still.

Little Elanor never realized that when she was asleep, she still relied on her Binkie. She just assumed it stopped working like her little bladder! 

Oh how wrong she was.

But, Daddy didn’t mind her silly little antics. She was just a little girl after all. But Daddy could have his own fun. Daddy’s soft, warm hand is placed on Ellies thigh, and it takes everything in her not to quiver as his thumb grazes gentle little circles into the soft skin of her thigh.

“Wakey wakey,”

He sings songs, voice dripping with a sickly sweetness to it. His little one's eyes  flutter open. His once knowing smug smirk now turned into a sweet smile.

“Ah! There she is, there’s my sweet little girl!” 

He coos at the little brunette laying in the crib as if she was an actual child. She’s unaware of the slight condescension though because she’s giggling, rubbing her eye, the sleepy sting from her lack of rest still prominent. Daddy can’t help but tickle her chin before lifting the girl up by her underarms. 

“My my, what do we have here?”

He asks rhetorically as he prods at the baby’s comically dropping diaper. She says nothing, looking down at her socked feet, avoiding Daddy’s gaze.

She had been a little busy during naptime.

As he sets her over his forearm, he realizes why his little lady had no time for sleeping.

She had quite a stinky diaper.

A small squeak falls from Elanor as Daddy pulls the waistband of her diaper away from her backside, exposing the childish mess she’d left in the backseat of her diaper; Daddy tuts teasingly at his little girl, no doubt inspecting the damage done to to her poor diaper as she was “sleeping.”

“Whew, you stink, baby.”

Little Elanor can’t help but whine, wiggling in daddy’s hold as she tries her hardest to get free. Daddy can’t help but laugh at his little stinker. She had always been a bit shy about her diapers.

Especially now since they had just recently stopped potty training—again—after her teachers at daycare had promptly let Daddy know she was still falling behind and not grasping the concept of the potty.

He sighs, shaking his head as he puts his little girl down on the ground, spinning her around to face him. 

“Did you make a boom boom baby? Hm?”

He coos, booping her nose as he bends down to better look her in the eye. Elanor can’t help but blush, her socked feet rubbing together as she continues to focus on the seemingly super interesting garment, taking in the little frills at the hem. 

When Elanor doesn’t answer, Oliver frowns. He may deal with sleepy time trickery, but he doesn’t deal with being ignored by someone who can't be bothered to keep their diapers clean. He firmly grabs her chin, gently lifting her head so she’s looking at him with her bashful little blue eyes. A soft blush tints her cheeks and dust her ears as she tries her hardest not to squirm at daddy’s firm gaze. 

“Answer me, little one.”

He says sweetly, but his tone has an underlying threat to it; he was not to be tested. Elanor nods softly, her silky hair falling into her face gently, the smell of her diaper becoming a bit more present with each passing moment. She whines as Daddy raises his eyebrow.

“Use your words please, baby.”

Big-girl feelings pool in little Eleanor’s gut, remembering why she ever fell for Daddy in the first place. Before she can even really think about what she’s saying, words are slipping past her lips in a jumbled mess.

“Y-yes daddy, I-I did ah boom boom!” 

She squeaks, dancing in place from the embarrassment that’s coursing through her veins. And daddy chuckles at her, crinkles from her diaper pairing with the soothing sound of his breathy laughs. 

Daddy ruffles her hair as he picks her up again with ease, settling her and her messy bottom onto his hip. Elanor cringes at the icky feeling. He pays no mind as he carries her back out into the living room, setting her on the changing mat he had laid out next to his work from home station. 

“Let’s get you changed hm?” 

He says soothingly as he lays his girl down on the bunny themed changing mat. Elanor hums, blushing but still very much so pleased at the idea of being clean again. 

Once Daddy has gotten her safely on the mat, he claps his hands, rubbing them together before he starts tearing at the tapes, the sound interrupting the silence of the room. He pulls back the front of her colorful diaper, exposing the big girl sized mess his overgrown little girl had left him.

“Okay let’s see what we have here -“

Daddy is briskly cut off as a loud ringing sound comes from his work laptop,

Daddy was getting a work call.

Elanor watches as Daddy curses under his breath, checking his watch. He had a meeting at one, and his watch read 1:05. He had totally forgotten. Elanor squirmed and whined her filthy little bottom, desperately trying to get Daddy’s attention back to her situation and making it all better. He looks at his little girl sympathetically. Kissing her forehead before rising to his feet.

“Dang it, just one minute little one. Daddy has some big boy business to take care of”

He soothes as he makes his way to his laptop, straightening his button down before answering the zoom call. The screen shifts to reveal all five of daddy’s close work colleagues, looking at him disapprovingly.

“You’re late, Oliver”

A stern woman’s voice echoes about the room, and Elanor turns to watch, curious as to why someone would talk to daddy like how he talks to her sometimes. Her face pales when she realizes Daddy’s camera is in fact on and she is in fact in direct view. Her own face staring back at her, little legs splayed out in the air.

“I’m so sorry, Karrie! Can I please just get five or so more minutes. Then I’ll be all yours, promise.”

Daddy says, voice sounding a bit desperate. Elanor notices that the pretty tan skinned woman raises her brow at daddy, just how he did her! Her cutting edge voice sliced through the room.

“Five more minutes? You better have a good excuse Oliver.”

She says, crossing her arms and leaning back in her chair. Daddy laughs, grabbing his laptop.

“Well, actually”

Eleanor’s eyes go owlishly wide, shaking her head as daddy shifts the camera so she’s in full view.

‘No No No Noooo’

“My little one woke up with quite the surprise for her Daddy! Didn’t you, little one?”

Daddy says, cooing at his little lady as he makes a silly face at her, trying his hardest to keep any tantrums at bay. Elanor stares back at Daddy’s colleagues, equally as shocked as them as they stare at her, a few of their jaws dropping and others stifling laughs. Daddy’s boss clears her throat, regaining her composure before speaking again, an amused smirk on her face.

“Oh, I see. You’ve got your hands full, I see Oliver.”

She’s not laughing, but Elanor can hear the giggle in her voice. Daddy nods, laughing. Since when was this situation funny?! Elanor never got that memo. She wiggles about and whines some more.

“Yes ma’am, I’m so sorry! Can I please get a moment? You can start if you’d like. I’ll be here listening and little Elanor here won’t be a problem, will you baby?” 

Daddy turns back to you, a stern look on his face, gulping, Elanor nodded, far too scared to throw a tantrum now. After getting approval from his boss, Daddy sets his laptop up so he can still hear and watch as he changes little Ellie’s diaper. 

“Okay stinker, let’s get you all cleaned up and in your playpen hm?”

Daddy kisses her head one more time before getting to work. He expertly cleans her up as he intently listens in on the meeting, occasionally chiming in as he remains focused on his little one's comfort overall. Ellie feels a bit less embarrassed now that she’s clean and being powdered up for a new diaper. Daddy finally fastens her up into a new penguin themed diaper before lifting her up and placing her on his hip, booping her nose before moving towards the camera.

Elanor hides her face in Daddy’s neck, wanting to hide from this moment. 

“Feeling all better there little lady? Nice and clean?”

Karrie, Daddy’s boss smiles at the shy girl, Daddy turns and looks at his little baby, bouncing her a bit.

“Answer Mrs. Karrie, stinker butt. C’mon now.”

Elanor whimpers, peaking her little head out from its hiding spot and nodding before hiding again. Satisfied, Daddy excuses them before bringing his little lamb to her playpen, settling her in there.

“Good job, baby. Maybe if you ever master potty training, you can get a job!”

He smiles winking at her before walking back to his job, leaving his little girl to work on what she does best, not passing potty training. 

[destinedfordiapers]

It's awesome to hear these captions coming to life! @teddybeard-strokin did an amazing job! Go listen to this and a few others he's recorded!

Of your three “regular” babysitters, she was undoubtedly the nicest. She at least did the least to humiliate or tease you.

One babysitter used her time with you to let out her inner Domme. She was exceedingly strict and any disobedience, even if it was a miscommunication, resulted in punishment. And she was extremely creative with punishments.

Your other babysitter loved nothing more to tease and humiliate you. Whether it was inviting her friends over to taunt the “diaper boy,” or just spending the entire night in Gryffindor-colored bra and panties, with thigh-high Gryffindor socks, making you wish you were a man, she left you would be positively aching down there with insatiable arousal.

But she was different. She wasn’t mean. She didn’t tease you. And, for some reason, you weren’t sure if that made her the worst.

If someone made an audio recording of her time with you, they would be convinced she was babysitting a toddler. It drove you crazy. It was one thing to be bossed around or teased. At least those babysitters acknowledged you were an adult, even if you were just a diaper boy.

But not her. Nothing she did, nothing she said, ever made it seem like she knew you were an adult. It was so convincing, so authentic that you honestly weren’t sure if it was an act.

She had never broken character once in the last five years. You tried everything you could think of to prove you were an adult, to force her to recognize—even for a second—that you were actually an adult.

Your attempts rolled off her like water on a duck. As far as you could tell, you were a toddler to her. She never let you out of her sight, except for your naps and sleepy time of course.

You had absolutely no dignity around her. She dressed you as she wished, checked you when she wished, and changed you when she wished. She blew raspberries on your tummy like it was completely normal.

You watched educational baby cartoons on a non-stop loop. And she always, always encouraged you to answer along and was just so proud of you for getting the right answers.

And nothing entertained her more than having you sing along with her to your “favorite” songs. You could never convince her you didn’t love singing and dancing to Baby Shark in nothing but a short T-shirt and soggy diaper.

All this because your bladder stopped working like it used to. All this because your girlfriend couldn’t handle your diapers but couldn’t break up with you.

But as you hear “The Wheels on the Bus” play for the 100th time, you know you need to start dancing…

[destinedfordiapers]

Fortune Faded

“Nuh uh, cutie, eyes up here. It’s not dinner time, is it, mister? Boobies aren’t for fun anymore, are they?”

Ughhh, not this again.

“N-no, Mommy…”

“That’s right, baby boy! And why is that, kiddo? Can you be Mommy’s little smartie?”

“Cause I’m a baby, Mommy.”

Look what she’s reduced you to.

“Good boy! Yes you are! A silly baby with no need for big boy fun! Nope! Poof gone! Isn’t life so much better now that you’re pampered?”

Not in the slightest.

You whimper despite your best efforts.

“What’s that, crinklebutt? Does my little pamper packer miss being a big boy? Well, that’s too bad, honey. Mommy needs a real man—not a pathetic baby who can’t keep his diapie clean!”

You know better than to argue. She’s trained you well.

“S-sorry…”

“I’m not sorry! You’re adorable like this! All desperate for Mommy, but knowing you’ll never, ever get her again. I could just eat you up, baby!”

All you can do is cover your face in shame.

“Awww, where’d my baby go, hmm? Is hims shy now? Is it a bummer only having a soggy diapie to make hims humpy-wumpies in?”

“M-mommyyyy stoppp!”

“Sorry, kiddo, but that’s life! You deserve this. You deserve your warm diaper you can’t keep clean. You deserve never being with a woman ever again.”

“It’s not my fault! I didn’t ask for this!”

“Listen, diaper boy. It doesn’t matter why your diaper is dirty, all that matters is you can’t help but end up with a soggy, mushy diapie between your legs.”

She pats your soggy diaper.

“Mommy could never be with someone like you. You had your chance, tinklepants. It’s over. Your little peepee is as useless as the dirty diapies in your pail.”

“B-but…”

“But…what? What are you not getting, sweetie? Everything happens in your diapie…everything! The only time you get to touch Mommy is when it’s time for nummies, understand?”

“Y-yes, Mommy…”

“You’re so sweet. Now, do you want to make your crinkles or are you going to keep being fussy?”

“Wasn’t fussy!”

“Oh? Wrong answer, kiddo.”

“N-no! Pleaaaase! Mommy I’m sorry!”

“Too late, little one. You can explain your little diapie tent to your babysitter. Mommy has a date. Bye, baby!”

[destinedfordiapers]

I keep grinding down on Daddy’s lap, moving my hand between us so I can grasp the button of his jeans and sink onto him. But just as I’m wrapping my fingers around it, I hear tiny footsteps padding across the nursery floor. I know exactly what’s happening. My little one has crawled out of their crib and is coming to me with some cute, silly excuse for being up.

I look at Daddy and whisper, “Your turn or mine?” before he points at me.

I slowly climb off Daddy’s lap, my body still humming from the attention, and turn to face the little one who’s now standing in the living room, rubbing their eyes.

“Tiny one... What are you doing out of bed?” I ask, my voice soft but with a hint of authority.

“I-I thought you went to sleep, and then I heard someone crying...” they mumble, eyes wide and innocent.

“Oh, honey. It’s only 8 PM. Mommies and Daddies don’t go to sleep yet,” I reply, a little chuckle escaping me as I make a mental note to be quieter next time I try to take Daddy to pound town. 😏

I scoop up my little one, pulling them close as I press a soft kiss to their forehead. "Mommy's okay, I promise." I gently pat their diaper to check that they haven’t left any little “presents” for me to deal with. Then, I move my shirt aside, letting them latch on to nurse.

"How about Mommy gives you some milkies, and then we get you back to dreamland?" I boop their nose playfully before guiding them to my breast. They latch on immediately, and we’re left with the sound of them suckling and the faint hiss of a gentle flood filling their night-night diaper.

As my little one settles, I glance at Daddy, who’s waiting patiently, and whisper, “I’ll be back for you when I’m done. You better be ready...”

[destinedfordiapers]

Daycare Blues

“Only five more minutes until we have to come inside, little ones! Stretch out those feet before its time for diaper checks and naptime!”

You longingly stared at Sydney as she supervised recess at your daycare. Sydney had a special place in your life. You’d done so many firsts with her: first date, first kiss, first girlfriend, first love, and eventually your first—and last—sexual partner.

Sydney succeeded in everything she did. She was your high school Valedictorian, Student Council President, and even the top swimmer in the state, eventually receiving a college scholarship for it. She was popular and well-liked all through high school.

So were you. You dated Sydney your freshman and sophomore year of high school, where you explored so many things together. You loved her—and she loved you.

But by your junior year of high school, you got in with the wrong crowd. Instead of studying with her, you went out to get drunk. Rumors began to spread about your increasingly dangerous drug and alcohol use. By the time Sydney learned of your first affair, your relationship was over.

She was heartbroken, obviously. It took her months to get over you, especially when she listened to the gossip floating around about your weekend sexcapades. The last time you spoke was graduation—a brisk conversation barely acknowledging your past relationship.

Sydney only thought about you in passing over the next two years. She’d occasionally see pictures of you or hear vague updates about your life, but she was completely disinterested in hearing about your problems. You barely snuck into a lower tier college before flunking out in two years.

Then one day, your Facebook profile was suddenly gone. She stopped hearing anything about you. It was like you disappeared. She always wondered what had happened to you. You may have broke her heart, but she could never truly stop caring about you, even if she’d never want to be with you again.

At least, until she started working Biggest Widdle Daycare.

You saw her first that day. You were laying on the changing table in the middle of another messy diaper change. Your “Nanny” as they called them at Daycare, babbling at you like you were an actual toddler.

Please, no. Don’t let her see me like this.

“Almost done with wipies, Joey! Then you can go back to story time!”

“And over here is where we do diaper changes!” you hear the Principal explain, “as you can see it’s pretty busy!”

Your face burned as Sydney made eye contact with you.

“Joey…is that you?” she asked, shock in her voice.

Your Nanny answers for you, noticing your embarrassment. “It sure is! He’s my favorite lil’ stinker here! Always so well behaved!”

Sydney continues to stare at you in utter disbelief, her mouth opening and closing as she struggles to find any fitting words.

You cover your face as your Nanny applies a generous coating of baby powder. The infantile smell overwhelming your senses, olfactory proof of your new status in life.

“Yeah, we used to…” Sydney hesitates, “well, we were friends in high school.”

Your Nanny gave her a knowing look, “well, I’m sure you’ll be best friends again soon enough! Don’t you think, Joey?”

You sheepishly nod your head as your diaper is pulled up and taped on.

“There, all done, Joey! So much better than that icky diaper you had before! Why don’t you show your friend Sydney where you do story time!”

You look at your Nanny, eyes begging her to stop. “Oh, honey, I’m sure you want your shorts but I think it’s best we keep them off, you’ve already had two stinkies today. We need to check you more often.”

Sydney smiles, recovering herself, reaching out her hand for you to grab.

You look into her eyes, trying to figure what she’s thinking. You’re more embarrassed than you’ve ever been since your parents sent you to the Regression Center after you were arrested for possession of cocaine.

“Don’t be shy, Joey! It’s just me, Nanny Sydney! Can you be a big boy show me where story time is?”

You grab her hand, feeing a jolt of electricity flow through you. You remember her touch, how it made you feel, the power it once held over you. Memories race through your head, like a movie played at 5x speed.

Sydney’s hand flinches too, as if she too felt the same electricity. But if she also had the same thoughts, she didn’t show it.

“Thank you, Joey! My little prince, here to show me around his little kingdom!”

The reading nook is just across the room, in full view of the changing tables. You hate how condescending this walk is, but you’re still excited holding Sydney’s hand—not that kind of excited, though. You lost that ability along with your continence. Though the feeling of attraction torturously remained.

As you get to your designated spot, you obediently sit down. The Nanny reading the story smiles at you.

“I’ll come check on your diaper later, Joey,” Sydney whispers in your ear. You shiver, not in embarrassment, but longing.

You don’t hear any of the story for the next twenty minutes. Memories of your relationship with Sydney continue to flood your brain.

You see her laughing on her bed, half naked, waiting for you to come kiss her. Next, you’re cuddling up behind her as the big spoon, you can still feel her warm skin on yours. You hear her whispering in the darkness, promising she’ll always love you.

“Earth to Joey?” you hear distantly.

You look around, every other little is gone, excitedly preparing for recess.

“Something on your mind?” Sydney asks, “I know littles can be spacey but you were really out!”

“I, uh…” you mumble.

“It’s okay, Joey. It’s perfectly normal. Maybe it was just because you were working hard to fill that diapee for Nanny Sydney!”

Something about the way she said it made you feel smaller than you ever thought possible. You knew she remembered everything, just as you did. But calling herself Nanny Sydney…she didn’t see you as anything more than a little. That much was clear.

“Only a little soggy, mister! You excited for recess?”

“I guess…” you trail off.

“You guess? Well, you should be more excited than that! You get to run and play with Nanny Sydney! That warrants more than a ‘I guess!’ Can you say ‘I’m excited to play with Nanny Sydney,’ little one?”

“I’m excited to play with Nanny Sydney,” you say, slightly louder than a whisper.

“You can do better than that, sweetie! I want to feel your excitement!”

The process repeats three more times, each time getting slightly louder.

You finally tell, surprising the other littles around you. Sydney grabs your hand, “great job, Joey! Now, what’s your favorite game?”

Sydney stayed glued your side the rest of your day, asking you questions about your current favorite games and activities, your favorite movies, and favorite snacks.

She never asked anything about your life before your regression. Nor did she ever mention your past relationship with her. Both of you knew the other remembered those days—and nights—you spent together. But it was left unsaid.

You were just starting to feel comfortable around Sydney, despite waddling around daycare in a t-shirt and exposed diaper, one you knew was getting heavier by the minute, when she asked you to come to her.

“I may be new here, mister, but I know a diaper that needs to be changed when I see it! Follow me while I get my supervisor.”

What followed was the most embarrassing diaper change of your life. Not only was your former girlfriend changing your diaper, but she was being trained as she did.

It wasn’t a quick diaper change. It was slow, methodical, and frequently interrupted by instructions and comments—and giggling.

“Make sure you wipe him well down there, Sydney! I know, that’s a side effect of regression, it’s perfectly normal! But don’t worry, he’s not able to get those anymore!” More giggles.

“You want to make sure you get powder everywhere, especially Joey’s bottom. He’s prone to rashes and his mother is very particular! Oh, you know her? Awww, that’s why you’re such fast friends!” Cue the giggles.

Later that night—evening, really—you lay in your crib thinking about Nanny Sydney. You wonder how different your life would have been had you stayed with her.

She wouldn’t be in charge of your diapers and serving you fruit cups at lunchtime at daycare—that’s for sure.

[destinedfordiapers]

Why you not doing my storyyy. I even asked like a good girl buts you ignoewed me. Hmph

You sound like a little grumpy goose with a clearly messy diapie in desperate need of changies. Why else would a ridiculous little thing like you think that you could order me to write anything?

This is your second ask in 12 hours, honey. I am not your writing machine. I write on my timeline, not yours.

And for that matter, my huffy little sweetpea, did you really ask like a good girl? Good girls don't run ageless blogs. For all I know, you're acting like a naughty toddler because you actually are one.

You’re closer to being blocked than getting a story. Fix it.

Now, I know you’re just an overexcited pamper packer and couldn’t help yourself, so I’ll happily forgive you—as long as you add your age and send me a cute apology for being silly.

Off you go, dear.

[destinedfordiapers]

Please can you do a very naughty tantrum caption with a very condescending and demeaning mommy.

Ugh, I can’t with these diaper-brained subbies. They never learn, bless their crinkly hearts.

I have one rule. One. And yet here I am, again.

You have a great idea, kiddo. But now you have some homework if you want it in a caption. I want you to read this post. Then, this post. And—I know this is stretching a Little’s attention span—then this post.

Can you figure out what you need to do, little one?

[destinedfordiapers]

pwease can woo put more baby wods in your storyssssss? tey make my diapee feel good an happy

weading is icky but baby wods make it more better

I got the sillys an sent this to dm&ms instead

Good job! Such an obedient little diaper subby! What a good listener you are!

Doesn’t it feel good to be exposed? To be free from the shackles of anonymity? To be seen for who you really are?

It’s okay to struggle with big words, kiddo. I wouldn’t expect someone who can’t keep their pampers clean to understand a big three-syllable word!

And because you were so brave, I think I can write some baby talk in for you!

[destinedfordiapers]

Sandcastles In The Sand

“Hey mister, where do you think you’re waddling off to all alone?”

Of all the people you wanted to avoid right now, Robin was at the top of your list.

“Ummm…t-to get something.”

You were never a good liar.

“Is that so? It has nothing to do with that big brown bulge in your Lil Swimmer?”

What could you possibly say in a situation like this?

It was bad enough Mommy dressed you in nothing but an oversized Lil Swimmers diaper and dinosaur floaties around your former friends.

And in Robin’s case, former crush.

It was bad enough having to surreptitiously squat down and load that swim diaper.

But somehow, this made it even worse.

Here you are—blubbering an excuse after Robin caught you red-handed trying to hide in your poopy diaper.

Exactly like a shy toddler.

“Awww, don’t be embarrassed, cutiepie! It’s just a poopy diapie. Poor thing, were you trying to hide from us?”

“I…”

“Come here, little guy. You’re okay,” she coos, pulling you into a hug, “You’re safe. How about I grab your diaper bag and get you out of that icky diapie, hmm?”

“B-but…wha-what about my…”

“I can change you, sweetie. Your Mommy is having some fun, I’ll give her a break.”

She pulls your hand to the group of sunbathing girls, giving you no choice but to follow.

“Found this lil stinker trying to hide his poopy diaper.” She tousles your hair. “Anyone know where Liz put his diaper bag?”

You felt every eye on you as you waited for Robin to grab your diaper bag, your drooping brown diaper unmistakable.

To your horror, she places the changing mat right next to you.

“H-here?! Can’t we g-go to the car?”

“That’s all the way up the hill, honey. Your Mommy would kill me if I let you walk that far in a poopy diaper! Besides, you’ve been playing in nothing but your diaper all afternoon, nobody will be surprised it’s getting changed.”

The other girls laugh, but not you.

“Lay down, kiddo.” As you do, she slides a paci into your mouth.

She rips the sides of your Lil Swimmers.

“You know, when I first heard your Mommy did this after your accidents started, I thought she was crazy. I mean, diapers or not, I always thought you were a good guy. I even had a crush on you!”

Wait—she had a crush? On you?

“And then to have your adulthood ripped away like this…I mean, you’re genuinely no different than my three-year-old niece. It just seemed so…cruel. But now that I’ve spent time around you, your Mommy chose right! This is sooo better for you!”

She starts wiping you clean.

“Think about it. No woman would ever want to be with someone in diapers. And who could possibly respect someone who might poop his diaper at any moment? That’s no way for an adult to live. So why try? You’re already closer to a baby than an adult, so why pretend? Why confuse you?”

“Aren’t you better off without any big boy expectations? Free from the burdens of adulthood? Doesn’t it make this diaper change easier knowing I think of you as a toddler, not an adult?”

She lifts your legs into the air.

“You’re free, honey. Babies aren’t embarrassed by their diapers because babies aren’t judged for needing diapers. It’s the most natural thing in the world for them. Expected. Just like you!”

She rolls up your messy diaper, grabbing a new Lil Swimmer, baby powder, and rash cream.

“Your Mommy gave you a gift: your Second Babyhood. Now nobody will judge you as an adult. Isn’t that great? You never need to be embarrassed again!”

She boops your nose.

“You can run around to your heart’s content in your cutie swim diapie like it’s the most normal thing in the world! Because it is! All us girls think it’s the most adorable thing!”

She sprinkles baby powder on you.

“So no more running off to hide because you made a poopoo, okay, mister? That’s why your Mommy put it on! Let us worry about your diapies, your job is to build the biggest sandcastle ever!”

You finally find your voice as she slides your Lil Swimmers on you.

“O-okay…”

She laughs. “Silly boy, you can do better than that! Aren’t you excited to show your Mommy the sandcastle you’re making her?”

“Y-yeah!”

“Hmmm, what do you think, girls? Is he excited enough?”

A collective murmur of encouragement rings out.

“I thought so!” Now,” she coos, tickling your tummy, “Who wants to build a sandcastle?”

“Meeeee!” you wail, laughing from the tickles.

“Good boy! C’mon lil stinker, let’s go build a sandcastle!”

The next hour flies by. For the first time since you were demoted to babyhood, you weren’t worried about your lost adulthood.

You were having fun!

It didn’t matter that you were building a sandcastle in nothing but a Lil Swimmer, surrounded by pretty girls your “age.” It didn’t matter that every so often, the back of your diaper was pulled back to inspect it for poopoo.

Robin was right—you were finally free.

You aren’t an adult, so why be judged like one? Why live by adult standards? Why fight to be seen as an adult, when you’ll never be one of them?

You finally embrace your new life and let go of who you were before the diapers. Let go of worrying what the girls next to you think you.

This is who you are.

A carefree baby boy. You have Mommy to care for you. She makes all the decisions. What’s there to fuss about?

“Wook Mommy!” you squeal when you see her, “I builded a thancathle!”

Not a care in the world.

Happy.

[destinedfordiapers]

You're absolutely right, kiddo! Way to use that noggin!

Now, waddle on over here so I can check your diapie. I bet you're soaked after writing that! It's hard to use your thinking noodle and hold your tinkles, isn't it?

I cannot get over how adorable it is to find blogs that call themselves "switches" when every post is just so undeniably little.

I get it, little guy (its always dudes). You want to be seen as a big kid; all little ones do! You're not just a ridiculous pamper packer, right?

But kiddo, be honest with yourself. Do you really think a cute diaper girl could ever submit to someone as silly as you?

You're as serious as a crayon.

So stop pretending. Know your place. You could never be in charge. Just obey like the sweet, docile little you are. Your job is to fill those thick, printed diapies—never change them.

[destinedfordiapers]

I cannot get over how adorable it is to find blogs that call themselves "switches" when every post is just so undeniably little.

I get it, little guy (its always dudes). You want to be seen as a big kid; all little ones do! You're not just a ridiculous pamper packer, right?

But kiddo, be honest with yourself. Do you really think a cute diaper girl could ever submit to someone as silly as you?

You're as serious as a crayon.

So stop pretending. Know your place. You could never be in charge. Just obey like the sweet, docile little you are. Your job is to fill those thick, printed diapies—never change them.

[destinedfordiapers]

would it be okay if you used more baby talk in your captions? >~<

Of course, little one! If you waddle back into my inbox and ask for it without being anonymous.

And I expect you to ask in your silliest, most adorable baby voice. I don't want to see a single big kid word.

And, while we're at it, why don't you type it to sound like you have a big binky in your mouth? I wanna hear (and read!) that cute lisp, okay?

[destinedfordiapers]

Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This)

Is there anything better than this?

The moment when a lifetime of fantasies becomes inescapable reality.

She’s wanted this her whole life. I bet she’s filled an entire landfill with wet diapers she humped to the thought of this.

Until this moment, it was nothing more than a dream. A toy she only played with in the safety of her mind and privacy of her bed.

You’d never guess who she really was in the cold light of day. Her confidence projected a much different story than her nightly diaper dalliances.

She built her entire life around that façade, convincing herself—and everyone she knew—she was the strong, powerful woman she pretended to be.

She assured herself that silly, blubbering diaper girl wasn’t who she really was. Just something to get off to before bed.

At least until this moment. Everything about this is real.

I wonder what’s going on in her head as the carefully constructed disguise she clung to crumbles around her.

For the first time in her life, she’s being seen as her authentic, genuine self.

No more disguises. The masquerade is over. Her true self utterly exposed.

She can no longer cling to her lies.

I gave her everything she wanted.

She will never have to imagine life as a submissive diaper girl ever again. Never have to imagine what it’s like to be viewed as a silly, sexless pamper packer by her friends.

By me.

After today, everyone will know who she is. They’ll know she’ll never use the potty again. Know she gave up her dignity and autonomy for her crinkly diapers.

I’m sure it’s overwhelming being talked down to by her best friend like this. Her comically soggy diaper, yellowed from her tinkles, is fully exposed while her friend clings to me in sexy lingerie.

Knowing her friend is about to have sex with the man she thought she’d marry one day. Knowing she’ll never have sex again, doomed to a lifetime of humping diapers.

She’s finally free. Unburdened by her lies.

This is where she belongs.

Once she accepts she’ll never be that confident, powerful woman she tried so desperately to be—that never was—she’ll embrace her new place in life.

This is who she is.

Her destiny is to listen to real women have sex with her Daddy while making her silly little crinkles, never to be with Daddy. All she’ll ever get is the rare opportunity to rub her soggy diaper on her stuffie for our entertainment.

To look the women with Daddy in the eye, knowing they’re better than her. Above her. To thank them for pleasing Daddy in ways she never could.

It’s important for pamper packers to have good manners.

For now, she’ll hide behind her hands, grappling with her new reality. The first time is always the hardest, after all.

But she’ll have plenty of opportunities to practice in the future. A lifetime as Daddy’s diaper girl.

Living the dream.

[destinedfordiapers]

honestly it's gonna sound dumb but i feel as if I can understand a story better if it has baby talk. a poopoo is exactly that not any grown up words for it! Almost as if it's at my reading level, if that makes sense

Awww, kiddo, don’t be silly.

It’s not dumb when you say it! I mean, sure, if an adult said something like that it would be dumb.

But when you say it, it’s just cute. Like a puppy chasing its tail. Or a kitty chasing a laser.

[destinedfordiapers]

Steady, As She Goes

No, no, no.

You couldn’t even make it three blocks.

She turns around, wondering why you suddenly stopped.

“Uh oh, do I see a poopoo face? Are you going poopoo in your diapie?”

“Mghff”

“Awww! You’re so stinking cute! Go on, baby, push all those icky stinkies into your diapie! I’m so proud of you!”

That makes one of you.

Proud isn’t how you’d describe the situation. Not when you’re squatting down and pooping yourself in public.

“Mgpgggh.”

“Sounds like a big pushie wushie! No wonder you couldn’t wait, cutie! But that’s why you’re diapered, isn’t it? Yes it is!”

“Sto—mpgghh.”

She smiles, rubbing your back.

“Don’t be embarrassed! You can’t help it! No hims can’t! You’re not my big stwong man anymore! Nuh uh, you’re my baby boy!”

Hard to argue when warm mush invades your diaper.

“Yes, you are! You said ‘bye bye potty training!’ Huh, baby? No more potties for you! Momma tapes on your crinkly potty now!”

“Mgggphh.”

“Wow, still making pushies?! That’s okay, honeybuns! All you have to do today is take a nap and have fun! You have all the time in the world.”

You’re well aware.

Your life as her baby boy didn’t end with diapers—it started with them. Who would’ve guessed this is how she’d put her trust fund to use?

To finance your new place in life.

She insisted her baby shouldn’t work. It wouldn’t be “fair” to your coworkers to be on diaper duty.

“All done, baby? Do you need to catch your breath? You did so good! Let me check that tushie of yours.”

You’re still huffing as she peels back your diaper and peeks in.

“Oh, honey, can you take Momma’s hand? We need to get you home.”

“Wh-why?”

“Your poor diapie couldn’t hold all your poopoo, baby. It might be time to switch to your nini diapies full time.”

Not those.

Anything but those.

“Please no! Please, Momma!”

You don’t care how you sound. As long as you don’t wear those diapers.

“Honey…you’ll wear what Momma decides. You don’t get choices anymore. Besides, you’ll look so cute waddling in your thick diapies!”

“But—.”

“Hush, baby, you shouldn’t worry what adults think of you. Now, let’s get that tush home before your poopy blowout gets any worse, okay? You can complain all you want during your bath.”

“Hmphff.”

“You’re adorable, diaperbutt. Take Momma’s hand. Good boy.”

You feel your sagging diaper drooping dangerously low. All you can do is hope it doesn’t get any worse on the way home.

But as you turn a corner, you see your neighbors waving to you…

Ugh.