humbugbabyboy

[humbugbabyboy]

Danny crawled as fast as he could as his mother followed behind with a princess baby dress only big enough for a little girl. The rules were clear: if Danny stopped crawling, he would lose his adult-sized baby dress and nappy and be given just the child-sized dress to cover up.

As he crawled, sobbing, he felt the weight of his nappy. On a hot day like today, he had become very sweaty and smelly, and after going wee-wee earlier, he knew how badly he needed a change. Of course, there would be no changes until 2 PM, even if you go poo-poo, scolded his mum.

Danny had just stolen a few pounds for a pack of smokes, and after his mum called the police, he was sentenced to a whole year as a little bitty baby.

His girlfriend had dumped him, and now his friends wanted nothing to do with him. To make it worse, his new best friend was a three-year-old who both went to Mummies and Me swimming. Danny was very red as he swam with other children and other thieves.

As he kept crawling through the park, followed by his mum, Danny began to sob as he reached the playground. Looking up, he could see the young mums laughing and getting a picture in. He winced in shame when one young mum asked if he had gone poo-poo. Danny's mum tapped the back of the nappy and gave it a sniff.

"Not yet, sweetie," she giggled. "My baby boy's just gone wee-wee."

[humbugbabyboy]

😇 Proper way pants should be worn over your diapers. Your diaper waistband should come out at least a half inch from the back. This is so your caregiver can easily check if you pooped or peed. 😂

[humbugbabyboy]

[humbugbabyboy]

👶👩‍🍼❤️

[humbugbabyboy]

[humbugbabyboy]

[humbugbabyboy]

[humbugbabyboy]

The Motorcycle Accident

The crash came out of nowhere—a blur of asphalt and metal, then blackness. I woke up in the hospital, groggy, tubes snaking from my arms, a dull ache everywhere. The doctor’s voice was calm but unyielding as he explained: the motorcycle accident had mangled me beyond repair. My pelvis was a wreck, my bladder and bowels no longer mine to control. And my penis? Gone. Amputated. “We couldn’t save it,” he said, and I stared at the ceiling, numb, as the words sank in. I was smooth down there now, a featureless expanse where I used to be a man, and the thick diaper taped around me was my new reality—24/7, forever.

Recovery was brutal. Weeks in the hospital, then home, where the truth kept hitting me in waves. I’d catch my reflection in the mirror, the bulge of padding under my sweats, and feel a sick twist in my gut. I couldn’t get used to it—the crinkle, the weight, the constant dampness. Every diaper change was a reminder of what I’d lost, and the smell, that faint nursery stink, clung to me no matter how much I showered.

Lila, my girlfriend, tried to stick by me. She’d force a smile, help me adjust the tapes, bring me water. But I could see it in her eyes—she missed the man I’d been. She was a woman who liked to be fucked, who craved passion, and I couldn’t give her that anymore. I smelled like piss and powder, not sweat and desire. Over time, she stopped being my lover and started feeling like my mommy—checking my diaper with a sigh, wiping down the couch when I leaked, her touch practical, not tender. “You’ve got to be more careful,” she’d say, matter-of-fact, peeling back the waistband to peek inside. It wasn’t love in her voice—it was duty.

She’d seen a psychologist, she told me one night, someone who’d advised her to stop tiptoeing around my “situation.” “They said I need to help you own it, Jake,” she explained, her tone firm. “You can’t keep pretending this isn’t you now.” So she started asking questions, pointed and unrelenting, making me say it out loud. “What’s it like having nothing down there, Jake? Does it feel girly to be so smooth? How’s it feel to pee yourself like a toddler?” I’d stumble over my answers—“weird,” “yeah, kinda,” “humiliating”—each one stripping me barer than I already was. She’d nod, satisfied, and keep going. “You’re not a real man anymore, are you? More like a baby with those diapers, right?” I’d mutter, “Right,” hating how true it sounded. My GF really liked to make me wear girly diapers to better help me accept not being a man anymore. She built me a large stash of humiliating diapers.

Then she started seeing other guys. I’d hear her on the phone, laughing, planning dates, and come home to find her glowing in a way I hadn’t seen in months. I couldn’t object—what was I going to do, stop her? She deserved it, I told myself, a real man who could fuck her right. She didn’t hide it, either. “You get it, don’t you, Jake?” she’d say, patting my cheek. “I need this.” I’d nod, swallowing the lump in my throat. She loved sending me photos from other guy's places.

One day, she brought home a strap-on dildo, black and sleek, and tossed it onto the bed. “Put it over your diaper,” she said with a smirk. “It’s the closest you’ll ever get to being a man again.” I stared at it, the plastic cock mocking me, but I strapped it on, the diaper crinkling underneath. She laughed—a short, sharp sound—and climbed on top, riding it while I lay there, useless beneath her. “See?” she said, breathless. “This is what I need. Not you.”

She flipped the script soon after. “You can still cum, you know,” she told me, her voice clinical. “Prostate’s all you’ve got left.” So she started fucking me with the dildo, usually between diaper changes when I was freshly taped up. She’d lube it up, slide it in, and work me until I felt that deep, unfamiliar pressure build. When I came, it wasn’t like before—just a weak dribble from the tiny hole where my dick used to be, pooling in the diaper. She’d watch, fascinated, her eyes locked on the pathetic little spurt. “Look at that,” she’d say, almost gleeful. “That’s all you’ve got now.”

Before I’d finish, she’d make me repeat things—phrases she’d drilled into me. “Say it, Jake. ‘I’m a dickless diaper boy.’” I’d choke it out, voice shaking—“I’m a dickless diaper boy”—and she’d push harder, demanding more. “Say ‘I’ll never fuck again.’ Say ‘I’m just a baby now.’” I’d obey—“I’ll never fuck again,” “I’m just a baby now”—until the words blurred into the climax, locking me into my new truth. She’d pull out, pat my soggy diaper, and leave me there, spent and small.

Lila had remade me, step by humiliating step. She wasn’t my girlfriend anymore—she was my keeper, my mommy, my cuckoldress.And I couldn’t fight it. This was my life now: smooth, diapered, and hers to define.

[humbugbabyboy]

[humbugbabyboy]

Oh I know that honey

I know you are not into diapers

That is exactly what makes it fun for me

The power exchange

Making you submit to something you really don’t want

Stripping away your most basic right. Privacy

Now you are as dependent on me as a two year old

With a fleet enema and a couple of Lasix tablets, you’ll be trying to hold in that liquid as long as you can before it just flows out of you and there is nothing you can do about it

Then you need to call out for your “Mommy” to change your stinky wet diaper. I can’t imagine the shame and disgust you must feel

But what makes it so much worse is the knowledge that you don’t get any other bedroom action with me anymore. I have chosen that for you. It’s a lifetime of pampers not pussy for you darling. Get used to it.

Image credit Natasha Zare

[humbugbabyboy]

The nursery

[humbugbabyboy]

Change time for this boy midafternoon... hope nobody could hear

[humbugbabyboy]

Not my photo. Caption written by me.

[humbugbabyboy]

Not my photo. Caption by me.

[humbugbabyboy]

diaper hypnosis

Find me at samhatdldummy on Instagram

[humbugbabyboy]

Hello there Mr Poulter. I am Nurse Astro. I am a Qualified Therapist and psychiatrist. I understand you have something you want me to help you with?

Well my specialism is helping with erm situations like yours so don’t be nervous just let it out

So I understand that you have this overwhelming desire to wear diapers? Ok. You occasionally wet the bed so you started wearing them and now you want to wear and wet then all the time? It sexually arouses you? Ok. But you find women are not into this and it’s making it hard for you to find a girlfriend.

Ok well this is quite simple. You have a diaper fetish. A fetish is a strong often obsessive attachment to an object, namely diapers for you. Having a fetish in the sexual sense means having a sexual interest in non living objects.

And it’s your bad luck that your sexual interest is diapers. I mean the thing is, and I see a lot of men like you, you are going to have to get used to a life of disappointment.

You see women don’t want to be with men who want to pee and worse in a diaper. Generally that is going to turn them off you. I mean I wouldn’t want to date a guy in diapers. Which sane girl would eh?

It’s bad enough that you are a bedwetter. That would be a red line for most of the women I know but the fact you get off in wearing pampers and jacking off in them. Well!! That does not make you alpha material at all!

Oh I am sorry. You don’t think it’s professional for me to laugh at you. Listen honey, I am doing you a huge favour. The only way you can cope with this affliction you have, for that is what it is, will be to understand that others find it repugnant and weird and perverted.

That way you will stay away from them and keep your filthy degenerate habit to your self. And then you wasnt get hurt forming attractions to women who are only going to mock and reject you. It’s harsh but good advice. You will just have to get used to paying for sexual contact or otherwise a life of pampers instead of pussy

Listen you should thank me for not sugar coating this. And who knows you may find some weird degenerate woman who is into theirs diaper shit too. Good luck with that though! Oh yeah you can take that diaper with you if you want

Image credit Domina Astro

[humbugbabyboy]

It happened again last night didn’t it babe?

Look I know your work has been so stressful recently but I have a solution.

I mean I can’t go in washing the bedsheets every day now can I? No we need to stop that.

So it’s time for us to take the next step we talked about

Yes I went out and bought a pack for you. Yes I know it’s a babyish pattern but I thought it would help you cope with your stress better if you just fully regress and let me take all your cares away

So I am going to do just that. I am putting you cl back in diapers and giving you a nice tigger stuffy to hold.

Aww honey. It’s just protection. Some added help for you while you are stressed. Hopefully you will be able to sleep through the night without soaking the bed and maybe then we can talk about the possibility of you going back into big boy pants. If not the lady at the store told me there are thicker bulkier more absorbent brands we can buy. But hopefully it won’t come to that.

In the meantime I want you in diapers all the time that you are at home with me. I also bought this special adult sized pacifier for you to suck on. It is a huge stress reliever in adults: there is a huge market for this type of thing.

No you won’t feel silly. Just feel that lovely thick rubber nipple In your mouth. Nice huh? Ohh it’s erotic is it. Well down boy. I haven’t done this to turn you on.

And anyway you can forget about adult things like that. While you are in diapers I don’t see you as a man. No you are my wittle baby boy. Here take tigger and I will get you ready for your first diaper

Image credit SunnyWittleDays