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Hey! this is one of my shorter first few fics focused on diapering! so i'm a lil nervous i originally posted this on ao3 (under the same name). I'm hoping to dive more into piss/scat play soon but i wanted to try and focus more on writing the actual diapering process so it's a more on the short and sweet side. I also hope i'm posting this in the right place! new here!!! Summary: Karen changes Matt's Diaper as part of their nightly routine. Fic Tags: (i'm unsure if these are entirely accurate so if their not please let me know!) Diaper diaper change I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping Orgasm Denial Teasing baby matt Murdock Dom Karen Page Age Play unedited Short & Sweet Ass Play Pacifier - Freeform Sub Matt Murdock Femdom Word Count: 445 ******* Karen’s hands tighten Matt’s freshly changed Diaper. For as long as he’d been in Hell’s Kitchen he thought his secret identity as Daredevil would be the hardest secret he had to keep. Not the fact that he liked. No Loved. Being babied by his long time co-worker and friend Karen Page. Matt chewed his bottom lip as he heard her coat her hands in the sacred baby power. Heaven was only moments away…He closed his eyes and drifted of to sleep as she carefully changed him. The smell of desire and urgent need hit her as she undid the diapers. Matt shivered as the cold air brushed against his pubes. He felt empty as the diaper left his body it was attached to him like a second skin. As he waited for the new one to be applied pre-cum dripped from his stiff cock the scent of the powder always made him hard. It was like Witchcraft especially when it was coated all over her fingers. “You’ve been a needy boy” Karen observes as she reaches for whips and cleans his cock coated in slick liquid. “Aren't i always?” Matt replies he chews on his bottom lip as her hands glide around his thighs purposefully away from his throbbing cock. Karen shoves a paci in his mouth. She’s done with the talking part as she watches his cum leak onto his belly not doing anything about it. Finally she turns him onto his stomach his legs wiggle out as she slaps his ass a ritual part of their routine. Her finger runs against the rim of his anus and he flinches she tries not to get too aroused and too ahead of herself. Karen just about controls herself as she inserts a finger inside of him. Nail digging deep. He moans against the paci groaning even as she cleans around his butt area with a warm wipe. He’s more than lubricant at this point. She reaches forward for some diaper cream and applies them to his private area her fingers trace over his cock which she sill denies pleasure of. As always Karen starts from the base to the top. Tracing each crook and cranny of his sensitive skin his belly rumbles during the sensitive process. Then finally once he’s all done and or the most part cleaned up apart from his pre-cum which is about to spill everywhere. She applies a new diaper. And it feels like Heaven against Matt's Skin. He was clean. Pristine. A clean boy in his Mummy’s eyes and that was all Matt Murdock could ask for in between his deadly double life as Daredevil. Hero of Hell’s Kitchen.

Hi folks, I’ve been fooling around with an idea that has been kind of fun for me... I started what I call a “Twenty Minutes” series of short stories. The idea here is that every story must start with the words, “Twenty Minutes”, and I rough out the story in no more than 20 minutes. Maybe another 20 minutes of polishing. They are little vignettes that let me explore a story idea, or a feeling, or a memory, or whatever. Perhaps in the future I, or someone else, can use these short stories as starting points for longer stories. Some are actual things that have happened. Some are based on an event, but ‘dramatized’, and some are simply fantasy. I'd encourage anyone else who has an idea that would fit here to pile on. It's fun... none of the pressure of writing a 'full length' story. One of these, though, as already turned into a story that is over 52 pages so far... need to get around to starting to post that some time. Enjoy, and join in! -j4f -------- #1 “Twenty minutes? You’ve only been laying here for 20 minutes, and the couch is SOAKED?” She had been pretty furious, and I knew I was in trouble. I had just collapsed on the couch with a beer for a few minutes to watch the Thursday night game after work. The alcohol and the long day had quickly caused me to nod off, though, and my body is well trained in what to do when I sleep. After a shower, dry clothes, and helping to clean up the couch, I sat down next to my wife, who had gone from off-the-wall-angry to shoulder-slumping-defeated. “Look,” she said quietly, “I know you don’t mean it. But this is, what, three times this month? Four? I know the doctor didn’t find anything wrong, but… I can’t keep going on like this.” My heart had stopped. I thought the next words were going to be, “We need to separate”. I started to open my mouth to reply, but nothing came out. She looked at me. “I think the rule is that if you’re sitting on the furniture… any furniture..., you need to be in a diaper. No exceptions. I don’t want to have to do this again.” Woah. That was not where I thought this was going. As a bedwetter, I wore diapers at night, but it was something I dealt with. But all the time? “But that pretty much means I have to wear a diaper all the time!” My relief at this not being about separation had morphed into a different fear. “Well, at home, probably, yeah. We should probably get you something reusable so that you don’t use as many disposables. You should look into that. But, I’m sick of cleaning the chairs and couch. If you’re working in the garage, or out of the house, then you’re not on the furniture and you can wear whatever you want. If you’re in the house anywhere near the furniture, though, yeah, you should probably wear a diaper.” Her dejected look started to be replaced with the determined look of someone who had a plan and was going to execute on it. She looked at me. “In fact, it starts now. You’re sitting on the furniture. Go get a diaper on. And bring your laptop down.” Upstairs I put my normal disposable night diaper on, along with my pajamas, and grabbed the laptop. The next hour was spent with my wife looking at cloth adult diapers, training pants, etc. While she was aware of the… urm… childish nature of some of the products, many of the options were surprising even for me. When we were finished we had spent a fair amount of money ordering a variety of products. Her mood had improved a lot, since we had a plan. Over the next few days, products started arriving, and we settled into a comfortable pattern. Many of the cloth pull-ups and such were quite comfortable, the slight rustle of the plastic pants and a little bulk being the only indicator that my underwear was not ‘normal’. It was easier to just wear them all the time, then trying to just when it was, or was not, ok. A year later, I’m used to being a cloth pull-up and plastic pants, pretty much all the time. My wife just referred to them as my training pants. Yesterday my wife reached into my sweatpants, cupping the plastic pant covered pull-up I was wearing. She frowned. “It’s really wet. Did you take a nap?” “Uh, no.” I replied. “So are your training pants so wet?” “I guess I dribbled a little.” “A little? It’s kind of soaked. Why didn’t you change.” “Because it’s annoying to have to take off my shoes and pants, just to change the underwear.” She paused. “There’s a solution to that you know.” I looked at her. “If you’re not going to change your underwear when you need to, then I will. But you’re right, I don’t want to have to strip you every time.” She looked me straight in the eye. “You're done with training pants. Go get a diaper and pins.” I love my wife. I love my diapers. Now I have both.