jabdl01

[jabdl01]

“It’s simple. All you have to do is cum in your diaper. Cum in your diaper, and i’ll let you go.”

He growled and muffled something unintelligible through the ballgag. Probably a ‘fuck you’ or some other explicative, but still he he started wiggling his hips. Groaning in protest, but still swishing the ridiculous diaper back and forth. The labored, muffled breathing through the gag intensified. Soon, his groans turned to moans. They became more frequent and more desperate. Despite his predicament, he was still doing his best to finish the job. The springs creaked as his humping and driving of the diaper crescendoed, more desperate moans escaped his lips, then stopped abruptly. His legs started to spasm, and I could tell he was emptying his balls into that sodden pamper.

“Did you cum?” I asked, “Did you make a goo goo?”

He gave a disdainful grunt, deflated.

“Well that didn’t take long. You sure you’re not secretly enjoying yourself?”

He said nothing at that, remaining stockstill.

“Well…now you can sit in it with your shame.” I smiled. “Sorry, I had my fingers crossed the whole time. I guess you couldn’t see it because you’re huffing that huggie on your face!”

That got him going. He was spewing vitriol through the gag as I exited the room. I could still hear him screaming through the door as I turned the lock. He sure sounds grumpy, but I’m sure he’ll change his tune when he needs his diaper changed…

[jabdl01]

“But i don’t wanna be a baby girl any more!!”

“Shhh, there there sweetheart! I know it’s frustrating.  But you just have to remember that you asked for this.  You wanted all of this.  So i’m sorry that you don’t like your weird little fantasy any more, but your wife seems to really enjoy keeping you like this.  She even hired me as a maid just to take care of you.”

“But I thought it was just going to be temporary! I didn’t think it was going to be permanent! I only like to wet my diapers, not poop them! And i thought i was going to be able to cum! But instead I just make other guys cum! I never get to eat real food anymore! It’s all just mushy peas, carrots, and even more cum! It’s just, it’s just, WAAAHHHH!!”

“I know sweety, i know.  Remember that saying ’ be careful what you wish for’? Well i guess you understand that now huh? Now…it smells like you need a diaper change, so watta you say we go over to the changing table and change your diaper huh? Now i don’t have the key to your chastity device, but maybe if i hold my vibrator to it long enough it’ll make you squirt, how’s that sound?”

*Sniffs* “Okay…”

“But you know the rules…because i’m letting you cum you have to eat it all up you understand?”

*Sniffles* “Yes…yes ma'am…”

“Good…and instead of giving you your 20 daily swats with the paddle i’ll just give you 50 with my bare hand, how’s that sound?”

“That would be better, thank you Ms. Gloria!”

“You’re welcome sweetheart.  But understand that you are only getting this special treatment for today.  You were the one that wanted to be a little sissy baby.  There are probably thousands of people around the world that wish they were in your exact position.  So you need to suck it up, and try to enjoy yourself.  I will not tolerate this type of behaviour from now on is that understood?”

“Yes ma'am…”

This is an old caption I wrote a long time ago, but for the life of me I can't find the original source of where I got this picture from. Anyone know what studio?

Edit: seems to be the model Sunny from AdultBabySource. Thanks to those who reached out to let me know!

[jabdl01]

suspicious whining

As you feel the warmth and wetness spread around your crotch signaling the inevitable. It's happening again – you're peeing, without any control or warning. It's a sensation that's becoming all too familiar, yet still leaves you feeling a mix of discomfort and embarrassment.

You feel your diaper swelling up between your legs, pushing against your skin. And then there's that soft hissing sound, like air escaping from a tire. It's a reminder of what's happening, a constant background noise that makes you feel even more self-conscious

But what really adds to the embarrassment is your mommy, who decides to pull down your pants, exposing your wet diapers with their childish patterns to the world.

"Mommy, please don't do that," you beg, feeling your face get hot.

She doesn't listen to your protests and checks if you need a diaper change. "Oh, look at you, sweetie, you had a little accident," she says, sounding more amused than sorry. "And with your diaper showing above your sweatpants, it's not a secret anyway," she teases, with a playful smile.

featuring @babyeeveesstuff

[jabdl01]

Since you all loved my ‘forced regression’ explanation, I’ll elaborate a little further. 💙

The point of regressing you is to create uncertainty: ‘did you do this because you want to, or because you have to?’

Are you crawling around in a diaper full of pee because you like it, or because mommy hasn’t changed you yet? You can’t remember, but mommy will change you if it becomes uncomfortable.

You don’t remember how to change yourself, but that’s okay too. 💙

When you start to question your situation, mommy puts her breast to your mouth and instructs you to suckle until you’ve had your fill.

Soon, every time you feel uncertainty, you think about sucking on mommy’s nipple, and you forget all about your confusion.

Soon, you can’t remember how you got into this situation in the first place.

Did you like being a baby 24/7, or was it mommy’s idea? It doesn’t matter anymore.

Mommy’s always right. 💙

[jabdl01]

“Here they are. All your dirty, disgusting diapers for the week. Look how many of them there are! Look at how many times you pissed and shit all over yourself. Isn’t that embarrassing? Isn’t that fucking pathetic? How can you try to say you’re a man when you have a giant bag of your poopy pampers right in front of you?

Oh don’t try to tell me I ‘forced’ you. *I* didn’t make you piss them. If you were a real man, you could keep a diaper dry for 12 hours, but you just couldn’t manage, could you? Look at all the times you failed as a man. Look at how many times I had to lay you down on the floor or a changing table to wipe your wittle bum bum! Such a disgusting little pig.

Well guess what, honey? Mommy’s feeling generous today! I’m gonna unlock your little chastity cage and let you make humpies! Isn’t that exciting?? Haha noo you’re not gonna get to hump Mommy, silly boy! Those days are long gone! You don’t even get to hump the floor! Nope, instead you’re going to hop on this big, putrid, disgusting bag of dirty diapers, and take them to pound town!

That’s right, you’re gonna pump your pitiful pampers against allll your poopy presents! I’ll even make you kiss the bag the whole time like it’s your little girlfriend! Show me what it looked like while you were cheating on me! I don’t care how bad it smells, I don’t care how humiliating it is, this is your only chance to cum for the next month, so you better make the best of it, and you better make it look convincing! I want to send her a video of you disgracing yourself on your mushy mountain!”

[jabdl01]

Hypnotizing the Big Boy

It had been a few hours since you’ve arrived at the facility you volunteered at. The facility was running a hypnosis experiment and asked for strong minds to see how strong the hypnosis is. You thinking you’re a strong minded individual sign up for the experiment.

Now you are strapped down in a crib like bed. The man running the experiment comes over to you and tells you that the restraints are so you don’t take off the headphones and to stare at the screen. The screen begins to show swirly circles as the headphones begin to play a hypnosis track.

You can tell by the words at the beginning that this hypnosis is gonna try to make you like a baby. It keeps mentioning regression, diapers, bottles, and so on. You smirk thinking this will be easy.

About an hour later you’re starting to have trouble thinking of anything else. You know you don’t want to give in to the hypnosis, but you can only think about that and the hypnosis itself. Everything around you seems so distant.

Another hour passes and all you can do is think about the hypnosis. As much as you want to deny it, you can’t stop the words and doubt in your head. “Am I baby? Do I need diapers?” These questions play in your mind.

Another hour passes and you’re drooling all over yourself. At some point a man came in and put you in a diaper. They could tell how deep into trace you were and wouldn’t mind. You even got a pacifier In your mouth.

Around the pacifier you begin to babble the commands along with the repeating track. You suddenly feel a nice wet warmth around your crotch and it sends you even further into trance.

Time isn’t a subject you understand anymore. At some point a man comes in and picks you up. You’re completely out of it as your mind is all mushy like a baby. Even though the headphones are removed, you can still hear the track playing.

You get placed down in a stroller and carted off to meet another family. A certain word is said and you scribble your signature on some papers. The man then leaves you with the family.

The family takes you in and brings you into the nursery. They lay you in the crib for a nap as you feel your diaper get wet in the front and mushy in the back. That’s okay though. You love that.

You love it so much that you take the large teddy bear plushie and begin to hump it over and over again. It didn’t take long for you to squirt out pathetic stickies, and that sealed your fate.

Your big boy mind is now gone as you pass out on the large teddy plushie. The family gives a collective “Awwwww” as they watched from the baby monitor. Happy that they gave this boy the new baby life he always deserved

THE END

THANKS FOR READING. PLEASE SHARE

[jabdl01]

Excited in my car seat 🎀

[jabdl01]

Seriously, babe? Again? Ugh, this is so fucking ridiculous. You're a grown-ass man. Why the hell do you keep pissing the bed like a toddler? It's so gross.

These sheets are totally ruined… You realize the hotel is going to have to charge us for these? Honestly, I’m so done with your babyish little bedwetting habit. The first thing we’re doing today, after you’ve apologized to the staff for peeing in the bed, is going to the store to buy you some adult diapers. You can wear them for the rest of the vacation, and not just at night.

You heard me. Maybe waddling around in a thick, disgusting diaper all day will help motivate you to stay dry when you go to sleep. And you can forget about any ‘big boy’ fun with me as well. Until this problem clears up, I am no longer your wife. I’m your Mommy now, got it? You will do as I tell you without question. You will call me “Mom” at all times, even in public. You will not complain if I bring other men back to the hotel room. Is that clear, baby?

[jabdl01]

[jabdl01]

[jabdl01]

I'm so proud of you for doing this for me, baby. I know how much you hate them, so it means a lot to me that you've agreed to wear diapers 24/7. Giving up the toilet permanently is such a big step in your regression training. I’ll make it up to you by playing with your willy lots, okay?

Yes baby, I know you'd rather have sex, but that's a no-no for boys who don't use potties. Mommy doesn't want your little pecker inside her when it's been sitting in your pee-soaked diaper all day, does she? That would be gross! You'll have to settle for a quick handjob when I'm changing you. Not every time of course. We wouldn't want you getting overstimulated. But maybe once a week, if you've been a good boy.

Uh-uh, don't get fussy now! Behave yourself mister, or you won't be getting any touchies from Mommy at all, and the only time you'll be allowed to cum is when you've made a big poopy in your pants. Is that what you'd prefer? Because unless you want 'big boy time' to consist of humping your pillow in dirty diapers, you'd better settle down and thank me for letting you have any orgasms at all!

[jabdl01]

[jabdl01]

Regret...?

***Disclaimer*** This is NOT my photo. All credit goes to @mommiesbabyboy for the super embarrassing pic!

You stood in the doorframe, unsure, equal parts frustrated and nervous.

Frustrated because you were 28 years old and wearing huge, infantile, and VERY full diaper. It smelled horrific and the previously soft cotton was starting to itch against your skin.

Nervous because your younger, 20 year old "baby" sitter was in the other room, chatting with a group of her college friends, and you weren't sure how to get her attention without exposing yourself to the entire group.

You hated being treated like this. It wasn't fair. All you had said was that you wanted to try some Mommy dom roleplay and your girlfriend had taken it way too far. She had apparently enjoyed those first few sessions far more than you, gently stroking your stiffy while you nursed on her full, heavy breasts.

It had been heaven and you thought that would be the end of it when one day she started making comments.

"Oh hey, that would look so cute on you!" She would tease, pointing to a dinosaur, or race car, or similarly childishly printed T-shirt.

In retrospect you SHOULD have stopped it there, but hindsight is 20/20. In reality you had just blushed and laughed it off, mildly amused and embarrassed.

Then she had actually bought some of those clothes and begged you to try them on.

"Come on," she would plead. "Just this once, you'll look so cute! I'll give you a treat if you're a good boy for me..."

You cursed your past self for being so easily manipulated.

It hadn't ended there, of course, as she grew more and more confident in her Mommy role. She started cutting your food for you at dinner. She would make sure your shoes were tied would make sure you were holding hands whenever you crossed a road or even just went outside. She insisted on being the driver whenever you went out, eventually forcing you into the back seat after the passenger side seatbelt "broke".

Of course, the outfits got more and more shameful. More "baby"-ish, and humiliating.

You realized too late that the only sexual attention you got was after some new, mortifying request, and that it was never "proper" intercourse, meaning anything penetrative, including oral. She literally had you and your "little jelly bean" in the palm of her hand. Why did you keep letting her do it? Why did you keep giving her more and more control, one "treat" at a time?

Was it because you... liked it? No. Absolutely not. There was no way any man would like this! Being swaddled in thick, suffocating padding every day. Forced to cringe and bear the weight of strangers staring at you in your dinosaur overalls or whatever else your wife shoved on you. Forced to sit like a "good baby" while she spooned dubious looking slop into your mouth when there was perfectly good food on the table just out of reach. Forced to smell her hair when she laid you down on her lap, unclasping her bra and guiding your lips to her full, milky breast...

"Ugh, I THOUGHT I smelled something nasty out here. Did you seriously shit yourself again, dude?"

The door swung open and your babysitter was glaring at you with a disgusted look on her pretty face. She was standing slightly off to the side, doing absolutely nothing to obstruct the view for her friends in the room. They took one look at you and the yellowed, sagging lump between your legs and burst into a fit of giggling.

You started to turn. You'd rather deal with a rash than with this sniggering group of attractive strangers.

A hand shot out. "Not so fast, mister. No way I'm letting you stink up the rest of the house. You're getting a new diaper right now. And don't even think about cumming in the wipes again, unless you want to spend the rest of the afternoon outside!" She yanked you in and shut the door.

You closed your eyes to block out the jeers and prayed your erection would go away before she un-taped you.

[jabdl01]

Playing House

NSFW 18+ Only

Contains ABDL Content

Max had thought it was weird when his adult cousins Sydney and Liza had suggested "playing house."

"Like we used to do every Thanksgiving!" Sydney suggested.

"Come on!" Liza encouraged. "It'll be fun!"

Max thought it was a bit silly, but he had a weak spot for his cousins. He only saw them once a year at Thanksgiving and he looked forward to being around them all year. He did have fond memories of playing house with them as kids. His heart skipped a beat back then when he got to play the "Daddy" and Sydney and Liza fought over who got to be the "Mommy", which is probably where his taboo crush on his two cousins had formed.

It was harmless, Max had convinced himself of his forbidden attraction. It wasn't actually like he was going to hook up with either of them and if he happened to think of one or both of them in bed from time to time... well, no one would be the wiser. No one gets hurt.

Max followed the sisters up to their old childhood bedrooms while the rest of the extended family mingled over hors d'oeuvres downstairs.

He was surprised as they opened the door to see certain supplies laid out on one of their beds - talcum powder, wipes, etc.

"We want to play a bit differently this year," Liza shared. "I want to be the Mommy..."

"... and I'm going to be the Auntie," Sydney finished. "You're going to be the baby!"

"Baby?" Max chuckled. "So, you want me to crawl around saying 'googoo gaga'?"

"More than that," Liza snickered, pushing Max onto the empty bed. Max gasped as Sydney began to unbutton and then unzip his jeans. She took his jeans and boxers and slid them off, leaving him bottomless with his dick exposed. He should've resisted, pulled his pants back up, and ran, but all he could do was lay there in shock. This was like every wet dream he'd ever had!

"You think we don't know about your obsession with us?" Liza revealed, grabbing something from the other bed that rustled in her hands. "We see you every year salivating across the table and it's not over the mashed potatoes!"

Max felt uneasy now. He lifted his head to leave, but Sydney pinned his shoulders back down. Liza approached him with the item she had taken from her other supplies. It was a thick, white diaper. Liza unfolded it before lifting his legs and sliding it underneath.

"See, look, the sick perv is already hard!" Liza declared. It was true. Despite Max's best efforts, his cock had betrayed him, standing up straight in excitement. "Awww, is da liddle baby excited to go back in Pampers?" Sydney teased.

Max thrashed around now, but it was no use. Sydney had him trapped easily as Liza grabbed the baby powder and sprinkled it on his erect penis like she was pre-seasoning the Thanksgiving turkey!

"No tantrums," Liza instructed, trading out the powder for something else. "We'll tape you up soon. First, we need to clean you off."

Max's eyes widened as Liza revealed the baby wipe in her right hand, which cruised straight for his junk, which she began wiping down. Max's legs kicked instinctively, held in place only by Liza's arms laying on top of them as she scrubbed his cock with a tight grip. His eyes rolled to the back of his head and he started vibrating. He knew he was going to blow his load, either onto his cousin or into his diaper.

"Sydney! Liza!" Max's Aunt Sharon called from downstairs. "Thanksgiving dinner's ready!"

"Can you come here first?" Sydney yelled back. "Max has something he wants to show you! Bring dad too! In fact, bring as much of the family as you want!"

"No!" Max shouted, trying his best to fight his cousins off from the top of him. The whole family was about to know he was some kind of sick freak, probably some kind of diaper weirdo too, and all the evidence would be plain to see in his own messy diaper. Although, if he had issues conflating sex and family gatherings, he wouldn't have found himself in this position.

The last thing Max heard before messing in his diaper was the familiar creak of Liza and Sydney's bedroom door.

Turkey lurkey dee and turkey lurkey doo, Patreon for me and Patreon for you!

[jabdl01]

Therapy - Part 1

"So...I see you've had some more changes at home."

Reflexively, you pull your eyes away from the wall you've been staring at for the last 15 minutes and meet the gaze of Miss Heather. For a split-second, you even feel the urge to speak, but running your tongue along the rubber nipple of the pacifier in your mouth reminds you that Quiet Time isn't over yet.

That's how every therapy session has begun since your step-mom started sending you here. Miss Heather says that when they arrive for all-day counseling sessions, patients are often bursting with disorganized thoughts: rants and imagined fights and jumbled lists of wants and needs. You were one of these tricky patients for her, talking a mile a minute about how your cruel step-sisters had tricked your step-mom into thinking you were wetting your bed.

So now every session starts with Quiet Time. Miss Heather sets a timer on the TV screen for 30 minutes and you just...wait. Once in a while she makes an observation or poses a question, but you're not meant to respond: just listen and think. When you struggled with this, that's when the pacifier was introduced. Gigantic with a baby-pink shield that bobs ridiculously when you swallow, it ensures that Quiet Time lives up to its name.

You go back to staring at the robin-egg blue of the office wall. What had she said, "changes at home?" If there were a Pulitzer Prize for understatement, Miss Heather would be a laureate a hundred times over. You shift uncomfortably, grimacing at the soft squeak your patent leather shoes make against the hardwood. This is the first time your step-mom forced you to go to therapy in one of your new outfits: a frothy little gingham dress with opaque white stockings and ridiculous pink ribbons fastened to your hair. You feel your face flush as you imagine how you must have looked, mincing into the office on 4-inch heels and sitting gingerly on the couch.

Always careful movements like that. You're not sure why you put in so much effort: Miss Heather knows about the diapers. Every night and now every day, your hips are bound in the bunny-soft padding of a thick, disposable diaper. They crinkle when you walk, they crinkle when you eat, and they seem to crinkle when you don't move a single muscle at all. But still, you try not to crinkle so much with Miss Heather. She may be the last person in the world who thinks of you as anything more than a diaper dumping loser.

Or is she? As if reading your mind, Miss Heather speaks again: "Did you have any accidents since our last session?"

You can practically feel the blood rushing to your face and turning it scarlet. She KNOWS you don't have accidents! Not real ones! You've told her a hundred times. Your step-sisters Lauren and Olivia had faked all those accidents by splashing liquid on you or your bedsheets when your step-mom wasn't looking! The only reason you use your diapers is because you're not allowed to take them off! "They're too expensive to waste," your step-mom would say. And with all the bottles Lauren and Olivia forced you to drink when they pinned you down, you could never hold it long enough to have a dry diaper at changing time.

You make a facial expression at Miss Heather that shows you're angry and that you want to talk. The TV screen shows there are still 8 minutes left on the Quiet Time clock, and you chew your bobbing pacifier furiously. She continues to look in your direction, her expression unchanged.

A minute passes and you're still feeling tense; your bobbing pacifier settles into a rhythm as you count down the seconds to when you can make your feelings known. Tick. Suck. Tick. Suck. Tick. Suck.

"You're so pretty today with those ribbons in your hair. Do you feel pretty when you're dressed like that?"

That's it. The pacifier shoots out of your mouth like a projectile as you spit it across the room. It clatters across the hardwood. You rise from the couch and stamp your foot, the block heel of your patent leather shoe clacking comically.

"Are you kidding me right now?! I look ridiculous!" You yell. You're practically trembling. You're an adult who just refused to keep sucking on a pacifier: a perfectly reasonable reaction in any other context, but there's an icky feeling in your stomach like you just did something very bad.

Miss Heather's expression remains unchanged. For a few agonizing moments, you simply stare at each other across the room. Then, slowly, she rises to her feet, saunters across the room in her tight jeans and converse, and retrieves your pacifier from the ground. With non-chalance, she walks back over to you, and you're practically hyperventilating as she slides the rubber nipple between your lips again. Your cheeks bulge as you reflexively swallow, suckling for air. Suddenly your moment of rebellion feels so stupid, so futile. So immature.

Miss Heather slides back into her chair and gestures for you to sit. You obey, more hyper-aware than ever of the giant crinkling diaper under your butt.

Without a word, Miss Heather reaches over to her smartphone and taps at it a few times. With a blip, the timer on the TV screen changes from 06:37 to 60:00. She's reset the clock to a full hour.

That's not the change that bothered you, though. In big block letters at the top of the TV, you see that Miss Heather renamed the timer. Your therapy sessions no longer begin with your Quiet Time. They begin with your...

Binky Thinkies.

Tick. Suck. Tick. Suck. Tick. Suck. Tick. Suck. Tick. Suck. Tick. Suck. Tick. Suck. Tick. Suck. Tick. Suck. Tick. Suck. Tick. Suck. Tick. Suck.

💕 Part 2 💕

[jabdl01]

You had completely changed her room...

instead of a dresser, there was a pretty pink princess vanity mirror. with lots of fun hair clips and accessories.

instead of jeans and blouses, there were pretty dresses, skirts, socks, and tutus

instead of a large lonely bed, there was a small, safe and secure, comfortable, cozy crib to sleep in.

instead of boring panties, there were pretty, and pink, princess pampers, which made her crinkle as she toddled around her new room

She loved it.

She knew she wasn't going to be an adult anymore.

She knew exactly what this meant...

She was going to be permanently regressed...

She was just going to be a baby girl.

Nothing would be expected of her

Everything would be provided to her.

Her clothes

her meals

Her thoughts.

Her dreams

Her very way of life was forever going to be changed.

no more growing

UP...

only dumbing and regressing

DOWN

back to babyhood

She would no longer be responsible for herself... She would be a dependent baby, relying on grown ups to take care of her.

No more getting up for the 9 to 5.

Only sleeping in with her teddy bears and stuffies.

No more dealing with icky public restrooms and pesky potty training.

Only making warm tingly tinkles in her diapers

No more dealing with income taxes and budgeting.

Only playing with her blocks, and watching disney movies, and other child-friendly and approved baby shows...

no more complex thoughts of any kind...

just to be forever lost in blissful, babified babbles... and dumb dolly dreams...

She was happier here, like this,

and of course, you were too...

[jabdl01]

Adele had a dream, or more accurately, she had a fantasy. In a few days, she would move out of the family nest and into a college dorm. Exciting! But Adele did not think so. She thought it was frightening. The beginning of responsibility. Of true adulthood. And she wanted none of it. She had always daydreamed about going back to childhood. Since what seemed forever, her ultimate fantasy was to wake up in diapers, go to school and find all her classmates just as well-padded as she was. They would play and dance and do arts and crafts. It would merely be a scaled-up daycare. So when she woke up in a crib, her excitement was through the roof. Around her waist, a thick white diaper. Thoroughly soaked. In her mouth, a pacifier bobbing up and down as she flailed her legs to get all the soft sensations of duvet and padding that she could. Not for a second did she question her dad picking her up, changing her and dressing her in a pair of cute overalls. Meanwhile, her mother was cooking downstairs. Breakfast, yes, but also Adele’s lunch, which was neatly packed in a bright blue lunchbox with flowers drawn on it. At that point, Adele was not surprised when she was buckled in a baby seat and driven to college. There, the parking lot was filled with proud parents dropping off their grown, but regressed, children with kisses, diaper pats and hugs. 

“I’ll pick you up in a few hours, ok?” Adele’s mother told her. And Adele could not help but smile at the thought of her first day of college.