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Baby Talk
Let your baby side show.
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By willnotwill · Posted
Yeah, I suspect his listing really isn't public at this point. I can't find any book with any permutation of those title words. -
By BabyBear85 · Posted
Kayla’s step mom Beth cackled when she saw Kayla, helplessly strapped into her high chair, a bib around her neck, and an obvious diaper squished between her legs. ”Ohh this is perfect!” Beth said. She pinched Kayla’s cheek. “Just where a bratty little baby belongs.” Ethan couldn’t help smiling. The doorbell rang again and in came Katie. ”Hi mom!!” She beamed, giving Beth a tight hug. “I see you’ve found out little one here.” She booped Kayla on the nose. “Yes… mommy’s little baby…” she purred. Beth laughed again. ”Well if you’re her mommy…. I guess that makes me Grammy, huh?” she said, pinching Kayla’s cheek again, a little harder. -
don't let the waxing and wayning worry you too much. This is normal for some of us. As an example, I've worn diapers for a day or two, twice over the last couple of months but before that, it was something like 3 years. Perhaps I'm a bit of an outlier in that regard but at least I don't binge and purge anymore, got over that a long time ago. Besides, going without diapers for a while makes the times I do wear them seem a bit more special and fun. -
Chapter 81 I let Betsy sleep for another ten minutes before gently waking her. She stirred slowly, clearly still tired, but gave a small nod when I told her it was time to get her out of that soggy diaper. After laying her down on the changing table, I carefully removed the wet diaper, moving with practiced ease to get her cleaned up and comfortable again. She blinked up at me sleepily, her body relaxed and trusting. Just as I began wiping away the baby powder and ointment, her dad walked in. He paused for a moment, taking in the scene, then smiled warmly at Betsy. Hey, sweetheart, he said casually, as if diaper changes were just another part of the day. Any thoughts on what we should make for dinner tonight? I moved on to clean Besty bottom by lifting her butt off the table with her ankles, as I continued with the cleanup, surprised by how natural their conversation felt. There was no awkwardness—just the easy rhythm of a family that had long accepted each other’s routines. Betsy responded with a sleepy shrug, and her dad chuckled, tossing out a few meal ideas as if they were chatting over coffee. It didn’t seem to bother either of them—Betsy was completely at ease, and her dad treated the moment like any other part of the day. Then again, he’d helped with diaper changes before, so it was just another piece of their shared routine. He glanced over at me and offered a warm smile and said that’s the way I used to wipe her bottom, but she got too big for me to do that. I just now have her grab her knees and bring them up to her boobs. That still allows me to clean her bottom good. You’re doing a great job, he said, and I appreciated the quiet encouragement. As he headed out the door, he looked back at Betsy and added with a chuckle, Going smooth was a smart move—it really does make changes quicker. Betsy smiled sleepily. Thanks, Dad. Once I was finished, I helped her to her feet. She held onto my shoulders for balance as I slid a pair of soft cotton panties up her legs, then followed with a pair of shorts. Everything fit snug and comfortable, and she gave a small nod of approval. I take it you weren’t bothered by your dad seeing you get a diaper change? I asked as we got ready to head out. Betsy laughed, brushing a hand through her hair. Nope. He’s been seeing me get changed—and changing me—for the past eighteen years. It’s nothing new. She started toward the door, but I called out, Hold on. She turned, eyebrows raised. What? I smiled. You might want to put a top on. She glanced down, then laughed. Oops. Yeah, probably a good idea. Once she was dressed, we made our way down to the boat dock, drawn by the sound of voices and the smell of something grilling. Turns out, our dads had moved the grill down there so we could enjoy our final dinner by the lake. They’d even set up a table and six chairs, making it feel like a proper send-off. It wasn’t anything fancy—just hot dogs and hamburgers with all the fixings, plus a few bags of chips. Betsy and I had pop, while our parents sipped on cold beers, the bottles clinking softly as they toasted the end of a good season. The lake shimmered in the evening light, and the air was filled with laughter, the scent of charcoal, and the quiet joy of one last meal together. As we sat around the table, enjoying the lakeside breeze and the smell of grilled food, Betsy’s dad leaned back in his chair and spoke up. We both have a question, he said, glancing at my dad before turning to our moms. His tone was casual, but there was a spark of curiosity behind it—like he’d been waiting for just the right moment. Our moms looked up, clearly unaware of what was coming. It was my dad who delivered the question, wearing a playful grin. You both have beautiful sun tans—but what we don’t get is, how come neither of you has any tan lines? Have you two been running around here naked most of the time? The question hung in the air—half teasing, half genuine, and definitely unexpected. My mom burst out laughing. Yes, we were nude a lot, she said with a shrug. In fact, there were a couple of times we floated down the river that way—and I can tell you, we had a great time doing it. Our dads chuckled, clearly amused by the candidness. Then Betsy’s dad turned to her with a grin. When I saw you on the changing table earlier, you didn’t have any tan lines either. Did your mom corrupt you too? Betsy grinned. Well, Dad, it might’ve been me who corrupted them. There were a couple of times I was sunbathing in the nude, and they just decided to join me. We all laughed, the kind of laughter that comes from shared stories and the comfort of being known. Betsy’s dad chuckled. As long as you girls had a great summer, that’s all that counts. Plus, I’m sure there was less laundry to do. My mom nodded. Yep. I raised an eyebrow. Hold on—maybe there was less laundry for you two, but I still had plenty to wash thanks to Betsy’s diapers and plastic pants. I had to hang them outside to dry, take them down, fold them, and make sure they were ready for her. I turned to both of our moms and asked, How many times did you two wash her diapers this summer? Then I answered my own question with mock seriousness. Once. Each of you washed them once. I continued, So yeah, maybe you had less laundry because you spent most of the time running around nude. But I was the laundry slave, making sure Betsy always had a clean diaper. It was a lot of work—four hours a week that I could’ve spent having fun. My mom looked at me with a smile. Well, Betsy’s mom and I want to thank you for taking care of that. Because of those four hours a week, we got to enjoy more free time. So thank you. Then she added with a teasing grin, And just remember how many of your diapers I had to wash before you were out of them. My dad leaned back in his chair, clearly ready to add his own twist. Let’s see, son—you’ve been here for about 92 days, and Betsy wears one diaper a night. Add a few more for naps, and we’ll round it to about 100 diapers you’ve had to wash this summer. He paused dramatically, then grinned. Now, when you were in diapers, you went through about five a day. That’s 460 diapers over the same time span. But let’s go further—you didn’t stop needing them until you were about five and a half. That’s roughly 9,000 diapers that were on your butt, and your mom had to wash every single one of them. He chuckled. So I think it’s safe to say you’ve got a long way to go before you catch up to her. We all burst out laughing, the kind of laughter that comes easily when the air is warm, the food is good, and the company feels like home. I smiled to myself, keeping quiet about one small truth—what they didn’t know was that in about a month, I’d be changing a lot more of Betsy’s diapers, and not just the wet ones. But that was a thought for another day. With the diaper talk behind us, Betsy’s dad clapped his hands and said, Let’s make some homemade ice cream. Everyone perked up at the idea. The ice cream maker was brought out, ingredients were mixed, and soon the churn was humming away. When it was finally ready, we passed around bowls piled high with fresh vanilla, topped with sprinkles, chocolate syrup, and whatever else we could find in the pantry. It wasn’t fancy, but it was perfect. After we’d all had our fill, the mood began to shift. Betsy and I were told it was time for bed—we had to be up and on the road by 5 a.m. The final night was winding down, and the cabin was quieting, settling into its last few hours of summer. -
By TheLittleWriter · Posted
Hi guys! Here's the first chapter for a new diapered cuckold story: Junior — The adoption of a Diapered Cuck. The story is fully finished on my Subscribestar: https://subscribestar.adult/thelittlewriter/collections or you can buy it on Kindle: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BSDP5SGL Junior — The Adoption of a Diapered Cuck George was a normal man—a normal man with a secret—he craves to be diapered, regressed, and cuckolded. One day, he decides to tell his wife about it. And his life will never be the same after that. But just how much can his life be changed before he regrets his decision? Chapter One George lay on his back in the wooden crib, the side rail up and locked. The thick overnight diaper sagged heavily between his thighs, warm and swollen with the mess he had made earlier in the evening. Every small shift sent the soft, mushy load squishing against his skin and spreading further. The front of the padding was also wet, the warmth clinging to him in a way that felt oddly comforting, which only made the whole thing more shameful. He sucked steadily on his thumb, the wet sounds filling the quiet nursery as he stared at the bars above him. Sarah had left hours ago. She was out with Connor again. George knew exactly where they were and what they were probably doing by now. The thought made his stomach tighten, even if the heavy diaper between his legs reminded him of his place, it was still hard to imagine his wife with another man. He had asked for this. He had begged for it. And now he was here, messy and wet, waiting for Mommy to come home. And as he imagined them together, George’s mind drifted back to the night it had all started, several months earlier. They had been lying in bed after a quiet dinner. After he told her his deepest fantasy. She was quiet, speechless. After all, what can a woman do when the man of her life confesses something so shameful? He wanted to be regressed. He wanted to wear diapers. He wanted her to take control. Sarah had been quiet for a long time. Then she rolled onto her side, looked at him with those beautiful eyes, eyes he knew so well, and asked if he was sure. He had nodded, unable to meet her eyes. She had kissed him softly and told him she would try. The first time she diapered him was that weekend. Sarah had bought a pack of thick, plain white ones and laid one out on their bed. George had stood there naked while she powdered him and taped the padding snugly around his hips. When she had patted the front and told him he looked like her good little boy, something awakened. He wet himself that night, and Sarah changed him—treated him like a naughty baby boy, like who he really was. And that was fine and good… at first. But after a month or so, it had begun to feel small—not enough. So he asked Sarah if she could force him to wear diapers to work. To tease him. Humiliate him. And even though she wasn’t sure about it, and even though she had made a face of disgust, she accepted. After all, she loved him. So she sent him to work next Monday with a thick diaper under his pants. He wasn’t allowed to change himself, nor was he allowed to ask for a change. Poor George leaked right before his shift ended. And by the time he reached home, he had made a mess so big it could be smelled feet from him. He had to sneak out of the office so no one would find out. When he got home, Sarah received him with a look of pity and disgust and ordered him to take a shower so she could get him ready for the night. And so he did, and so she did. They decided he needed thicker diapers, especially when leaving the house for long hours. Sarah was patient, though behind her eyes, George could see her growing distant. Maybe he had made a mistake, and he shouldn’t have asked for it. But then he felt the thick padding between his legs and how wet it was, and he didn’t care anymore. He wanted it. He craved it. And so for a month, he was kept in diapers full-time, and in that time, they did not have sexual intimacy a single time. That’s when the idea for cuckolding came about. It had been his idea. His fantasy. And he simply mentioned it one night. Sarah wasn’t happy, so he didn’t bring it up again. A few weeks passed, and during a very messy diaper change, she asked if he was serious about the whole cuckolding idea. George almost got a very messy erection right as she mentioned it. “I was… I am serious,” he said, too excited to hide it. She said nothing else and didn’t bring it up again for another week. “I like Connor,” she said. Connor was the vice president of the company George worked for. And he was quite younger than they were and quite handsome. Successful, smart, witty, funny; he was everything a woman like Sarah deserved—a real man. “My boss?” “Can you ask him if he would like to go out with me sometime?” George almost choked. “You want to go out with Connor?” “Is there a problem with that?” George blushed and shook his head, not wanting to shame her or anything that could make her change her mind. Even if he was now forced to ask a man to go out with his wife. To make it worse, this man was his own boss. The day George had to approach Connor had been worse than any work diaper day. He had worn his thickest diaper under his suit, the one that sagged noticeably when wet. He had waited until late afternoon, when most people had left, and knocked on Connor’s office door. Connor had looked up from his desk. George had closed the door behind him, heart hammering so hard he thought Connor must hear it. He had stood there in his padded state and explained that his wife, Sarah, was interested in going out sometime. “You want me to go out with your wife?” he asked. George nodded, blushing a thousand shades of red. “You okay with that?” George nodded again. He had to explain he was actually encouraging it. Of course, he didn’t mention his wet diaper or the fact he was actually cumming in his already wet padding at that very moment. “You’re an oddball. But I’ve seen your wife; I always wondered what she saw in you. Fair enough, I’ll do it.” The first date had been arranged for a Friday night that week. Sarah had spent the afternoon getting ready, her long dark hair falling in soft waves, her elegant black dress hugging the full curves of her breasts and hips. George had been put into a fresh, thick diaper and nothing else except a soft t-shirt. The doorbell rang. “Get the door for me,” she said. “But I’m not wearing anything.” “Don’t be silly, you’re wearing your diapers. Besides, Connor needs to know what he is getting himself into,” she said. “Unless you want me to cancel…” He didn’t want that. So, defeated, George was forced to waddle to the front door and open it. Connor stood there in a fitted button-down and dark jeans, looking every inch the younger, stronger man who was about to take his wife out. “What the fuck…” he muttered almost to himself the moment he saw George padded. George just blushed there, wetting himself in front of his younger, more handsome boss. “Now this is something one doesn’t see every day.” Sarah came downstairs that moment to find the ridiculous scene unfolding on her porch. Connor’s eyes had flicked down to George’s diapered state, then back up to his face. He had not laughed. “See you around, George,” Connor said in that calm, deep voice. “I promise to take care of your wife tonight.” The humiliation had burned through George so intensely he had almost cum again right there in the doorway. Sarah had kissed George on the cheek, told him to be good, and then she had left with Connor. George had stood in the open doorway for a moment, watching them walk to Connor’s car, before closing the door and returning to the nursery. He had climbed into bed that night, sucking his thumb, the image of Sarah on Connor’s arm replaying in his mind until he finally drifted off. Now, months later, things had gone much further. George wore diapers every day. He had rules and routines. Connor came over more often. And tonight, Sarah was out with him again, probably already in his bed or wherever they had gone after dinner. George shifted in the crib she had bought for him, the one he was forced to sleep in now, the mess in his diaper squishing warmly with the movement. He had pushed it out earlier without thinking, the way he sometimes did now when his mind wandered. The padding sagged heavily, the warmth spreading up his back a little. He sucked harder on his thumb, looking for some comfort. He wondered if Sarah would bring Connor home with her tonight. She had mentioned the possibility as she checked his diaper one last time and told him to be a good boy and wait in his crib. The thought of Connor seeing him like this again, messy and wet and small, sent a confusing mix of dread and heat through George’s body. He was already far past the point of pretending he did not want it. The sound of a car pulling into the driveway reached him through the open nursery window. George’s thumb stilled in his mouth. He listened, heart beating faster, as the engine cut off and two car doors closed. Footsteps approached the front door. He heard the key in the lock, then Sarah’s soft laugh and the deeper murmur of Connor’s voice. They were both home. George lay very still in the crib, the heavy, messy diaper between his legs reminding him this was his decision. He had asked, begged for it. He kept his thumb in his mouth and waited for the footsteps to come down the hall toward the nursery. ................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................... The story is fully finished on my Subscribestar: https://subscribestar.adult/thelittlewriter/collections or you can buy it on Kindle: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BSDP5SGL
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