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Watersports
Pee-play without the diapers!
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"Messy Monday Morning" in a wet Little Kings diaper. I wet during the night and as is usual for my morning routine, I went poopie in my diapie while in the kitchen getting coffee, and now sitting here with a warm, delightful squishy potty in my diaper. -
By wetdiaper55 · Posted
Good chapter , I can,t wait for the next ......maybe ,mommy,s media,,,,the trip,,,,? -
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By Bel George · Posted
Chapter 10, Trying to Be a Big Boy The room was still and dark when I opened my eyes. Emily’s breathing was soft beside me, her body warm under the blanket we shared. I lay there for a moment, half-listening to the creak of the cottage settling around us, the distant hum of crickets outside the window. But something else pressed harder than the quiet. I needed to pee. Badly. I shifted slightly, and the bulky nighttime diaper shifted with me. Thick, padded, still dry. After all that milk, after all that praise and attention, I had somehow made it through the night so far without wetting. That should’ve felt like a victory. But it didn’t. Not with the knowledge that if I let go now, I’d be lying in it until morning… I glanced at her face. Peaceful. Trusting. Quietly, I slid the blanket aside and swung my legs over the edge of the bed. My diaper crinkled as I stood, the cool night air brushing against my bare legs. The floorboards felt cold underfoot as I tiptoed toward the bathroom, careful not to wake her. The door closed with a soft click, and I let out a breath. With shaking hands, I peeled back the tapes. Rip. Rip. Rip. The thick wings folded away, the weight of the padding falling loose between my thighs. I set the diaper gently on the counter and sat down, peeing into the toilet with a long, quiet sigh. It felt good. Relief always did. And for a moment, I felt like I had won something. But when it came time to put the diaper back on… I remembered just how thick it was. How much it didn’t want to cooperate. The booster made it bulky, hard to fold just right. One tape pulled too tight, the other curled sideways. I fumbled with it, sweat rising on the back of my neck as I tried to smooth it out, the sound of crinkling plastic echoing too loudly in the silence. I was just about to give up and start over again when I heard the doorknob turn. My head snapped up. The door creaked open. And there she was. Tessa. Standing in the doorway in her robe, hair tousled from sleep, one eyebrow slightly raised. She didn’t speak right away. Just looked at me, half-naked, flustered, diaper crooked and tapes hanging half-peeled, like she’d caught a kid sneaking cookies at midnight. Then her lips curled into a smile. “Well,” she said softly, stepping into the room. “Look who’s trying to be a big boy.” She stepped into the bathroom like she owned the space. I froze. My hands hovered awkwardly over the loose wings of the diaper, one tape curled uselessly back against itself, the booster bunched up and half-folded underneath me. My bare thighs were cold. My face was burning. Tessa said nothing at first. She just closed the door behind her and leaned casually against it, arms folded, head slightly tilted. Her eyes drifted down over me, my bare legs, the rumpled padding, the faint sheen of embarrassment on my cheeks, and then back to my eyes. “Trying to sneak around, huh?” she said at last, voice still soft. “Didn’t think we’d notice?” I didn’t answer. What could I say? She stepped forward, knelt beside me, and ran two fingers along the inside of the waistband. The diaper was, as she expected, dry. She hummed to herself. “Used the potty and then tried to cover it up. That’s bold. Sloppy, but bold.” I swallowed. “I just… I didn’t want to lie in it all night.” “Oh, I know,” she said brightly, like we were just chatting about the weather. “I get it. You thought you’d take care of it yourself. Nice and neat. Just a quick potty trip, and back to being a good boy.” She gave the loose diaper a firm pat, making me flinch. “But the thing is,” she continued, “you’re not the one who decides that anymore.” She stood up slowly and perched on the closed lid of the toilet, hands folded in her lap, watching me like a teacher waiting for a confession. “So… here’s what’s going to happen.” My stomach tightened. “You have two choices,” she said, calm as ever. “Option one: I take you to the special room, strap you into your crib, and we tell Emily what happened in the morning.” I looked up at her sharply. “She’s going to be disappointed,” Tessa added. “She thinks you’ve come so far.” I winced. “Option two…” She smiled slightly. “I help you back into your diaper, we don’t say a word to Emily… and you make me a promise.” I didn’t breathe. She leaned forward, her voice low and clear. “You promise me that when Emily wakes up in the morning, you won’t have a clean diaper. No excuses. No last-minute potty breaks. Just a used diaper like any good baby boy. And I can help with that.” I opened my mouth. But no words came. She tilted her head. “Think carefully. One promise, or one night in the crib and a very honest chat at breakfast.” I looked down at the half-fastened diaper between my legs. Then back at her. “I… I promise,” I whispered. “I won’t have a clean diaper in the morning.” Tessa’s smile widened. “Good boy.” “I will help with that.” She made a soft rocking gesture with her hands, as if cradling a bottle. She stood slowly, her expression soft but unmistakably in charge. “Lie back,” she said gently. “Let’s fix that mess you made.” I eased myself down onto the folded towel still on the floor, heart pounding. Tessa knelt beside me, humming faintly under her breath as she peeled the diaper completely away and started fresh. She worked with quick, efficient motions, shaking out the same booster pad, tucking it into the thick shell of the night diaper, and sliding it under my hips with a practiced hand. “No more solo adventures, alright?” she said lightly, lifting my legs and dusting on a little fresh powder. “We handle this part for you.” I just nodded. The padding wrapped around me snugly, warm and dry and thicker than ever. When she taped the sides shut, one, two, three, four, they lay perfectly straight across my hips, tight and sealed. Not like my attempt. Not even close. “There,” she said, giving the front two firm pats. “Back where you belong. Stay right here.” She stood and left the room without another word. I lay there, staring at the ceiling, unsure what came next. A few minutes later, she returned with two bottles of milk, both already warm, one in each hand. I blinked at her. She just smiled and knelt beside me again. “Time to keep your promise.” She eased me into a semi-upright position, one arm behind my shoulders, and guided the first bottle to my lips. I opened automatically, and the soft silicone nipple slipped past them with no resistance. Warm, sweet vanilla-milk coated my tongue. “You don’t need to finish fast,” she said softly. “We’ve got all night.” I drank. Slowly. Obediently. My stomach filled, heavy and warm. When the first bottle was empty, she set it aside and brought the second to my lips without waiting for permission. “You’re doing so well,” she whispered. “You really are becoming such a good boy for us.” I flushed but didn’t stop drinking. The second bottle took longer. My belly was already full, but the milk went down smooth. I lost count of how many swallows. Tessa just held it in place with one hand, her other resting calmly on the front of my diaper, gently stroking the plastic in slow, silent circles. Finally, the second bottle was empty. I let out a small breath and sagged back against her, dazed and warm, eyelids heavy. But she wasn’t done. She set the bottle aside, then reached for the left tapes of my freshly fastened diaper and peeled it open. Rip, rip, just enough to lift the wing and slide a hand inside. I opened my mouth, but before I could speak, I felt it. Something cool and slick and shaped pressing gently between my cheeks. Then pressure. A slow push. My eyes widened. My body flinched. By the time I understood what was happening, her hand was already withdrawing and the diaper was being retaped, snug and final. “There we go,” she said softly, smoothing her hand across the front again. “Now we know you’ll keep your promise.” I couldn’t even look at her. My cheeks burned. My legs twitched slightly under the thick padding. She stood and helped me up carefully, keeping a hand at my lower back as she guided me through the dark hallway. Emily was still asleep when we returned to the bedroom. Tessa lifted the covers, guided me gently into place beside her, and tucked the blanket over both of us. Then she bent close, her voice barely a whisper. “Sleep tight, sweetheart. And don’t worry… I won’t tell a soul.” She kissed my forehead. And then she was gone, the door closing behind her, leaving me lying next to my wife. Full, padded, and already feeling the slow stirring in my belly.
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