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Bondage
Sorry I can't come out and play, I'm a bit tied up at the moment!
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Steven sleeps like a baby. Having some nice dreams where Diana takes care of him. During his dreams he starts feeling the need to pee. Instead of waking up, he keeps slumbering peacefully. He dreams of making it to the potty just in time and relaxing. With a hissing sound he feels warmth spreading outwards from his crotch, making him look down in shock and seeing that he forgot to remove his diaper. Wetting himself like a baby in his dreams and in his crib. Next morning Steven wakes up to the feeling of his squishy diaper. Remembering what happened yesterday, how he lost control to Diana, makes him lash out at the crib bars, "No, I don't belong here!", he cries out, "Let me out! Let me out Diana!", he demands without knowing if she is even able to hear his protest. Huffing in indignation, Steven feels his tummy grumble threateningly as he feels the need to poop increasing rapidly. "Oh no! No, no, no, I won't poop myself!" Looking quite alarmed, but the thought sends a pleasurable tingle through his body too. Steven continues to squirm around in his crib, unable to leave. What's even more shameful is that he gets more and more aroused as he comes closer to making a big stinky present in his diaper. Eventually his dick is rock hard as he gets on his hands and knees inside the crib, pointing his padded tushy to the door, he doesn't notice how Diana comes in at just the right moment to witness the following scene. With tears in his eyes, he protests one last time "No, please let me use the potty! I ... I can't hold it any longer!", before the mess starts pouring out. Steven can't help it as cute little moans mix in to the grunts as he pushes a load of warm stinky mush into his infantile garment. "Ahhh, I'm pooping! It feels sooo good!", he cries out as the back of his diaper expands slowly. As it fills up more and more, he starts humping the pillow Infront of him in need, allowing Diana to listen to every grunt, squish and moan coming from him. Finally as he finishes pooping himself, he thrusts into the pillow one last time, making him climax "I'm cumming! I'm cumming in my pissy, stinky diaper for Mommy!!!", he cries out in absolute bliss before collapsing into the warm blankets with a big satisfied grin on his face. Now that he got that out of his system, he slowly starts to realise what he has done, making him tear up again as he starts to wail like the little infant he is turning into ... -
Chapter 11 “Has Simon been a good Daddy, Baby?” I was still nursing on her full breast. I unlatched and replied: “Yes Mama” “That’s good to hear. Do you think he deserves a treat? Intrigued, I happily replied again “Yes Mama”. “Good girl, that’s very sweet of you. Now, being a grown up is very responsible and often comes with great pressure. Wouldn’t it be nice if Simon could spend a little bit of time as a baby boy, being looked after by his mama and loved by his baby sister?” “That would be lovely Mama!” She kissed me on my forehead and lay me down on the bed as she got up from the bed and went over to Simon, who was waiting expectantly. This was an interesting twist in the proceedings! Paula quickly undressed Simon and then had him lay on the bed next to me. Intrigued and excited as to how all of this was going to play out, and feeling genuine warmth for Simon, I reach out to him and held his hand. He turned his head towards me and smiled happily. “Time for your nappy, Baby Simon.” Paul went off to gather supplies before returning with a rather large nappy decorated with dinosaurs. It looked properly babyish. As she placed the nappy under Simon’s bum she asked: “Has baby Simon been to the potty for a poo-poo today?” “No Mummy.” “Oh dear. We don’t want baby to be constipated, do we? I’ll pop a couple of suppositories up your little bum-hole to sort that out, sweetie.” Simon had been very adept at nappy changing, but Paula was even better. A dummy was pushed into his mouth and Daddy was Baby in no time at all. “Come on you two, on the floor. You can play with your toys.” The toys weren’t massively interesting, to be honest, but it was fun playing with Simon. He encouraged me to sit on a big plushie bear and bounce up and down. My poop was going everywhere and I really stank, but neither Simon nor Paula seemed to care. Paula sat and watched us play before starting to dictate its direction and pace. “Baby Louise, I want you to reach into Simon’s nappy and take out his little baby willy.” I did as I was told. I could feel it stiffen as soon as I held it. “Good girl. That’s your special dummy. I want you to suck on it nicely for Mummy.” I did exactly what I was told. Good girl. Now lie on Simon with your stinky nappy in his face. Keep sucking on your special dummy sweetheart” I moved myself into position. Simon pushed his face into my filthy nappy, pushing onto my sex with some vigour. This was certainly having an effect on me - and Simon was soon ready to come, his back arching with the tension and pleasure of having what was clearly one of his sexual fantasies come true. As he came he also filled his nappy. I’m not entirely sure it was a deliberate act - it seemed as though the suppositories removed what little control he had at the point of orgasm. He ejaculated in my mouth - something I never allow normally and, a wild decision of the moment, I swallowed. “Well. You two babies play very nicely together. So sweet.” We sat on the floor, surrounded by toys, in our dirty nappies. As you’ve been such good babies, mummy’s going to feed you both together. Come up on the bed” She soon had us in position, sucking on our Mama’s breasts. Her hand first fondled the back of my nappy and then moved to the front, massaging my sex through the nappy before moving inside. The touch of her fingers on my sex was electric. She touched me in all the right places, in all the right ways. My vagina was covered in poop but she clearly didn’t care, using my own excrement as if some exotic massage oil. I suckled her milky breasts as she expertly took me to orgasm. I don’t think I’d ever experienced an orgasm like it. And what I had never realised up until that moment is that feeding upon a mother’s breast is the most beautiful way to ‘come down’ from an orgasm. It was so calming, so nurturing; I felt so loved and secure when I knew in reality that I didn't know these people and it was only a job Still, in that moment I was in heaven. “Okay babies, time to change those stinky nappies and then I have booked a private room for lunch. This has all been perfect - but it’s time to get down to business. I have a proposal for you, Baby Louise. -
By Ishigreensa · Posted
Larry saw her go to the bathroom as she said she was going, but he couldn't understand why it was taking so long. Maybe she had pooped or something. He decided it wasn't worth talking about, and just got his things together and waited for her. When she says she's ready, he smiled at her. "Okay, this way, honey." He put a hand on her shoulder because he still worried a little bit about going out around there. They were not exactly in the high end of town after all. "Just stay close to me, please. I'll try not to hold your hand all the time, but I do need to be able to see you at all times and know you can call for me if you need me, that I can hear you." -
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Sometime a little over a week ago, I think it was a Saturday, the odometer on my permanently nappy-clad life clocked over 5 years. Any chronologists reading may already have realised that my blog on this is already well more than 5 years old and so my life in nappies must also be more than 5 years. This is true. I went into nappies full time in late 2018 but this only lasted a little more than 2 months before I went back into grown up pants in order to spend a few weeks working integrated with a short holiday in the USA. It proved to be my last ever annual month-long pilgrimage there for work as the world, and my world in particular was going to implode in 2020 but I didn’t know that then. Furthermore, if I’d known then what I know now about how to wear nappies as a grown up, I wouldn’t have come out of them for that trip. It was the first week of April 2019 that I put on a BetterDry in the Qantas Club lounge bathrooms at Los Angeles airport to stay in them ever since and that was a little over 5 years ago. Five years would have seemed like an impossibly long time back then but here we are. I think I was downstairs painting a garage at the time our planet completed its fifth orbit of our star whilst I peed in my pants. I forgot to celebrate, or even to remember. I think that’s emblematic for how things look like to me right now. There isn’t much “nappy news” to see on a daily basis and frankly, it’s sometimes tough to think about what there might be left to write about them. Frankly, I’ve found it to be a curiously flat milestone although this may well just be my general mood. There’s a bit going on right now in the “rest of life” department. So many other things have changed in my life over this 5 years that it’s hard to work out what, if any, changes are nappy-related. I still think I’m happier in my nappy. It’s hard to be sure because I’ve largely forgotten what it’s like NOT to be in them. For sure the thought of taking them of does induce some low-level anxiety but who’s to say that this isn’t a natural anxiety in the face how accustomed I’ve become, both physiologically and mentally, to semi-automatically peeing myself. There’s also some legitimate anxiety about keeping the marital bed dry. Speaking of marital, I’m still married. It’s not been without collateral cost and I think at 5 years, I need to accept that I have all the tolerance and support that I’m ever going to get (ie: not much). She still hates my nappies which means she hates an aspect of me and that eats away at me like battery acid. I thought I’d be more resilient to that but rust never sleeps. Back on day zero I’d just assumed that if I ever lasted as impossibly long as 5 years in nappies, I’d be totally incontinent and the burden of choice would have been alleviated from me. I would no longer have to CHOOSE nappies, I would simply NEED them. That’s proved to be not quite true. What I have is nappy dependence. It means that I need nappies for simple practicality. I need to pee far too frequently and with far too much urgency to stray too far from a toilet. This is now to the point where it’s too burdensome to remain dry whilst conducting something resembling a normal day. My nappies let me operate like a normal person, or even on some levels a bit better. It’s ME who can sit through the whole “Dune” movie but at the end of the day, I’m in nappies because I have made a weird choice. I could retrain. I have still not escaped the responsibilities of my strange choices. Having said that, there’s been, quite recently, one or two glimmers of something that looks like incredibly mild incontinence. There have been damp sneezes. There’s the bedwetting thing but some part of me knows that paradoxically, this is some kind of deliberate behaviour, albeit “deliberate” at a subconscious level where logic and strategy don’t get much airtime. The occasional decision to pee without waking up is coming from my brain, not my bladder though. There’s probably some volition-worthy choice points I could make that would avoid my occasional bouts of night swimming. I’m just not sure what they are. So where to next? Five years isn’t really that long, only half as long as Ivan Denisovich’s Gulag sentence in Solzhenitsyn’s novel and generally speaking, in my Gulag the catering is better. Year 6 I suppose. Perhaps something interesting will happen then. “Interesting’ of course, may well be more in the context of the apocryphal Chinese curse than “engaging” but we’ll see.
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