The Talk

I felt like his mother. One that was casually minding her own business as I searched for a Doctor in the area. But as soon as I typed in the letter “D”, it autofilled to the word “Diaper”...in purple letters.

That’s weird.

We don’t have kids. Why would he be looking up diapers?

I hit space, and it filled more: “Diaper porn”.

At first I was furious. Was my husband of 4 years some kind of perverted pedophile??

I followed the links and opened some recently watched videos. I was relieved to realize it was at least grown adults in diapers. Still a bit weird. But not as bad as expected.

I went back to the search bar, and started typing every letter one at a time.

“A” led to “ABDL”. Apparently a whole community of these adult baby diaper lovers.

“B” was for ‘Baby Talking Mommies’. Okay, so apparently that’s what he wanted when he said ‘talk dirty to me’.

“C” came up with two words I'd never heard of: ‘Chastity’ and ‘Cuckolding’. So...that was interesting...

“D” had every derivation of ‘Diaper’ under the sun. ‘Diaper porn’, ‘Diaper sex’, ‘Dirty Diaper’, etc. but something that came up almost every time was ‘Diaper Sissy’.

It seemed like every letter of the alphabet had something. Enemas, Forced Bi/Faggot, Guy gets spanked, Humping diapers/pillows, all the way up to ‘S’ where the amount of “Sissy _______” stuff was 30 lines long.

Then I hit the jackpot.

T=Tumblr.

And up popped a blog by ‘wittlesissybaby’.

It quickly became apparent as I scrolled through the literal thousands of posts that there was no doubt the blog belonged to my husband David.

It was like delving into an entirely hidden world of his I had no idea existed. It was a rabbit hole that went so much further than I ever thought it could go. So many pictures, captions, stories, and chats about fantasies that he never even mentioned to me.

I felt that frustration again. Almost as if I was betrayed. Why wouldn’t he tell me all this?

I spent the next few days dwelling on it. Wondering if I should confront him or just let him be. But i kept going back to his blog. There was a new post almost every day. It quickly became apparent this was a big part of his life. But then again, I thought I was a big part of his life too.

Why would he keep it all from me?!

But again, with time, I came to understand. It’s gotta be tough for a grown man to tell someone he likes to wear diapers and be treated like a prissy sissy. Even if it’s his wife.

That’s when I realized we needed to have “The Talk”.

******

“We need to talk.” I said as I sat down on the couch next to him.

Now, understand, any time those four words are uttered to your significant other, there’s always a million things that go through their head at that exact moment.

That’s why David’s face understandably dropped as his hand paused on the remote.

“U-uh...about what?” he said, obviously trying to mask the shakiness from his voice.

Is she breaking up with me? I imagined him thinking. Is she cheating on me? Did I do something wrong?!

“Before you get too worried,” I said, placing a hand on his leg, “I want you to know you’re not in trouble.”

I could see the relief dissipate off his shoulders, but his eyes still searched mine back and forth in confusion.

I let the silence hang for a bit. Partly enjoying the tension and build-up, and partly because I was searching for the right words to say.

I had played this scenario out 100 times in my head. But even I was a bit nervous about how things would go.

“I found your...stash...David.” I said. Again, feeling like I sounded like a scolding mother.

“What…of weed?” he asked incredulously. “You’ve known about that” he explained, “you said it’s fine that I smoke every once in a while as long as it doesn’t get excessive!”

I shushed him and stared into his eyes, as if willing him to understand that way. Still he was confused. So I sighed.

“I found your Tumblr, David.” I said firmly. And I could practically hear his stomach drop.

David was about 6’2’’. He had a rather large build and a big beard to go with it. He definitely looked like a ‘man’s man’ as they say. But his voice was suddenly very small.

“I...I don’t know what you’re talking about…” he squeaked.

It was the most pathetic lie he’s ever told. But I didn’t say anything. Just continued to look at him as he started to sweat and squirm.

“I saw the pictures David. I saw the captions…” I explained. “All the various things written by a... ‘wittlesissybaby’.”

He flinched at the username being spoken out loud.

“That...that’s not me!” he said. Switching tactics but not switching octaves on his pitchy voice. “That was just some weird virus or something. Or maybe you went to a weird page! Or...or--”

But I cut him off.

“Honey...it’s okay.” I said as soothingly as possible, “I know the blog is yours and I know that you have a thing for diapers. There’s nothing wrong with that...”

“I don’t have a thing for diapers!!” he exclaimed, probably more forcefully than he meant to, so he backed off and chuckled awkwardly.

“No?” I asked skeptically. Reaching into my bag next to me. Poking around until I found what I was looking for. It didn’t take long, it was such a big target. I pulled the very large, very crinkly diaper out and showed it to him. The look on his face is something I’ll never forget.

His eyes were as big as saucers. His mouth plopped open so fast he was practically drooling. But it was the front of his pants that betrayed him. It was like the Boy Scouts popped up an insta-tent in his undies.

“So this does nothing for you??” I mused. Wriggling it back and forth with a crinkle.

Even with all the evidence stacked against him, he still tried to deny it.

“N-no…” he said, a little less suredly.

“Stand up.” I commanded, my voice switching to a stern tone. I tried to channel the dominating presence of the women in the videos he reblogged.

He gave me a look of disbelief. As if not understanding where this side of me was suddenly coming from. But he obeyed. Shakily getting to his feet.

I let him sway back and forth uncertainly. He was practically quivering. Though I couldn’t tell if it was from fear or from being so turned on. Time to find out…

“Drop your pants.” I ordered in that same dominating voice. His hands fumbled with his belt, unzipping his jeans and pulling them down to his ankles.

I giggled wickedly. “And what exactly is this…?” I asked, pointing to the wet spot on the front of his boxers.

“I...I…must not have shaken out well enough after a piss!” he groveled.

It actually was a likely story. He had a bad habit about pulling his underwear up practically before he even finished peeing.

“The way I see it, there are one of two things happening here: 1. You’re too pitiful to know how to use the bathroom properly that you wet your pants, or 2. You really, really enjoy what I have in my hand here. Either way, it looks to me like you need this…”

I ran the diaper over his legs. Letting him feel the plasticy texture. Making it crinkle. Apparently these “ABDL’s” love that. And apparently they weren’t wrong, as his boxers started poking out even more.

“Pull them down” I whispered. And he did. His little 4 inch dick bobbing out. Though today it seemed to be pushing a swollen, purplish 5 inches.

“Are you sure you don’t want this…?” I teased, circling his throbbing cock with the diaper, but making sure not to touch it.

He was biting his bottom lip. Sweating. Trying to hold everything back.

This was not how I expected this to go. I thought he would jump for joy immediately at the soonest sign of me being complacent with it. But his indignation was palpable. As if he was afraid if he said “yes” I would just up and leave right there. You could practically see the internal struggle.

“Put your thumb in your mouth.” I said “Suck on it like a wittle baby”

He whimpered like a bitch in heat as he stuffed his thumb between his beard and started sucking. Despite not wanting to admit what a baby he is, he sure does follow orders well.

“Now…” I said, as I brought the folded diaper under his balls. “Do you want me to put you in this diaper or not?”

I looked him straight in the eye in a stern, yet understanding way. I wanted him to finally be himself around me. I wanted him to know that I accept his little fetishes for what they are, and that I can be the type to dominate him like he seems to so desperately want.

He took a deep sigh with his thumb in his mouth, then squinted his eye and nodded.

“I want you to tell me.” I said, “I need you to voice what you want. Say it out loud.”

This was a very important part. According to one of the kink blogs I found online: having your sub explicitly speak the kinky stuff they’re into is a vital step. Most of them have gone their whole lives without saying the words out loud, no matter how often they spent searching them up on the interwebs.

“I...I want…” he finally said around his thumb, but it seemed like he was searching for the words. “I want to wear....” then he stopped. As if the last word was hard for him.

“What? What is it you want to wear, David?” I encouraged, “Tell me baby…”

“I want to wear…” again a long pause. His face flushed, then he sighed and finally said “diapers.”

I smiled and put a hand on his cheek like a proud mother. “Well then lay down...wittle baby!”

His breathing changed as he hit the floor. Short, almost panicked bursts, as if he was hyperventilating. I would have been concerned, but there was an aura of pheromones radiating off of him where I could tangibly feel how turned on he was. As if his dripping cock pointed straight up in the air wasn’t a dead giveaway…

I tried to put on a motherly tone. Channeling the voices of the stars in the videos I'd found on his computer, that motherly/mocking/condescending tone. “Okay wittle baby! It’s time to put on your diapy!! Raise up your wittle bum bum!”

His dick was pulsing in midair when he raised his hips with a little whimper as I slid the bottom of the diaper underneath.

I would have just folded the diaper over and taped it shut had I not read Miss V’s Guide to Changing and Adult Baby’s Diaper which specifically stated this was the ‘prime time’ for an AB. A diaper change (especially the first one) should be a prolonged process, enhancing the ‘baby’s’ anticipation and, for some, ‘humiliation’.

So I reached into the bag and grabbed some lotion. The most scented one I could find at the store (apparently ‘smell’ is a huge factor in a change too) and applied a generous amount to my palms. I slowly worked it into his hairy thighs and the area around his dick and balls. This will need to be shaved later, I thought. Giggling to myself at the twitching of his dribbling cock. He whimpered pathetically.

“Awww! Does the wittle baby want me to touch it?” I asked teasingly.

He nodded his head frivolously, looking like Maggie from the Simpsons as he suckled his thumb.

I placed a lubed up hand gently around his cock. It was so hard I could feel his heart beating through it. It honestly made me wet to know how turned on I was making him. I stroked him softly, gently. Not wanting him to cum too fast, which it seemed like he would do at any second.

“No cumming until I tell you to!” I ordered. Remembering the video. Then remembering how I should talk, “I mean...no cummies until Mommy says so!”

He groaned in a combination of frustration and enthusiasm.

Then I remembered those “SPH” videos he liked and reblogged a lot. I didn’t know what it was at first, but a quick google told me what I needed to know.

“Awww! Wook at the wittle baby dick getting all excited!!” I cooed. He actually didn’t have a small dick. It was average or maybe slightly below, but it always got the job done. So it was never anything for me to shake my head at. But I knew how self-conscious he always was about it, and I guess that translated into the type of porn he would watch. “I practically only need two fingers!” I giggled, playing the part.

I took my thumb and forefinger and used it to work around his purple, swollen head. Getting him nice and worked up. Then I just stopped, and watched in amusement as he fucked my two fingers with his gyrating hips.

His breathing started to quicken even more. His chest heaving. His voice so high-pitched in ecstasy “Can I...can I cum…?” He grunted.

“Absolutely not!” I barked. Pulling my fingers away and slapping his cock probably harder than I meant to, causing him to let out a yelp.

I felt really bad, but I had to stay in character. “Wittle babies don’t make cum cums until Mommy says so!!” I scolded. Poking a stern finger at him.

Then another video popped into my mind. So I crooked an eyebrow.

“Where else does the wittle boy like me to touch him?” I asked with an evil grin.

He was a bit confused. Probably in a whirlwind of emotions. Not sure what I was looking for. “All...all over…?”

“So...here?” I asked, poking him in the side and making him giggle.

“Well...No!”

“Here?” I asked, prodding him in the ribs.

“No!”

Then I brought my hand down between his crack, pressing my finger inside until I found the edge of his butthole. “How about here?” I whispered.

His eyes got wide. His face flushed. He shook his head on instinct.

“Awww! Are you sure? Because I found some things on Tumblr and your computer that would hint otherwise…”

Anal Joi vids, Girls with strapons, guys plowing other guys, even posts that said “Reblog this if you like it up the ass!”

He gulped.

“I...I may be okay with it…” he finally said.

But that wasn’t good enough. “I want you to tell me. Beg me, to play with your ass. Tell me how much you like it and how much you want it. And don’t try to sound like a ‘man’ while doing it either!”

I watched him squirm there on top of the diaper for a long time. My hand patiently waiting between his legs. Gently running my finger over his little rosebud.

“I...I like it up my ass…” he said. His voice starting out somewhat manly, then dropping an octave or two as he proceeded to talk. Then he didn’t say anything. Until he realized I wasn’t satisfied and then continued: “I...I really like it in my...bum bum...will you...pwease...pway with my wittle butthole?”

I smiled. Rubbing his tummy with my opposite hand like a proud Mommy, then shifted gears “Now take a deep breath...and relax…” I told him as I gently slid my lotioned finger into him.

It was like I pushed his breath out too as he exhaled. Letting out the tiniest of whimpers, but in what I could tell was a mixture of pain and pleasure.

“How’s that?” I asked softly, working my finger in out of him slowly.

“Good…” he breathed, eyes rolled back.

“I want you to moan for me.” I said, working a second finger in. “Moan like you like it.”

He obliged, exaggeratedly at first. Letting out slight, soft little whimpers. Little “Oooh”, “oooo”, “OoOoO’s” in time with my fingers.

Then I took a note from “Goddess Gaise’s Guide to Stimulating the Male G-Spot”, hooking my fingers upwards, I found the tiny bulb behind his penis that was his prostate. His “button” as it was often called, and I gently pressed.

“OooooH!” He exclaimed. Not embellishing at all this time. Those were genuine moans. “Oooohhhh yea!!!”

“You like that baby?”

“YES Mommy!” he said excitedly.

I didn’t even tell him to call me that. He just naturally fell into it. His “little state” as they call it. He was like puddy in my hands.

I continued to poke him and stimulate his P-spot, enjoying the sound of his whimpery whines. I never knew I could make him make such noises.

I knew I could make him cum this way. I had read plenty of literature (and seen plenty of videos on his computer) to know it was possible. But now was not the time.

I slipped my finger out, giggling at his little groan of disdain.

“Not until we get this diaper on, sweetie!” I explained. Applying a liberal dose of powder to his rock hard member and now slightly gaping crack.

I lifted up the front of the diaper and listened to his breathing change again. This very well could be the first time he has ever been diapered by a woman other than his mother. And his leaky, throbbing cock confirmed it.

I pressed the diaper down onto his throbbing member, feeling it pulse under my hand. I made sure not to move it much at all. Not wanting him to spew in excitement while I taped up the sides.

“Theeeerrrre we gooo!” I said in my Mommy voice. Patting his padded crotch and bum. Pulling him by the arms so that he was in a sitting position and could get the full effect.

The little wriggle he did was priceless. Like watching a grown adult learn how to move with a big, bulky object between their legs for the first time.

“Now baby…” I said, “You know what I want you to do…”

“What?” he asked, though I’m sure he already knew.

“I want you to use it.” I said firmly.

His face told me he actually may not have been expecting that.

“I...use it?” He stammered, “Like...how?”

I wasn’t sure of what he meant, so I gave the definitive answer “Like a baby would.”

Much to my surprise, he didn’t seem to like that.

“I...I’ve never...used...a diaper before.” he said, hanging his head.

Again, I didn’t expect this.

“Have you ever...worn a diaper before?” I asked incredulously.

“Well...yea...but not...not like this” he said apprehensively.

“Honey,” I said, placing my hand on his leg, “I want you to be honest with me. Tell me everything.”

“Well..I...I’ve only worn Depends before.” he said, “and I never...used them. I just liked the way they felt.”

This came as a total shock to me. All those captions and stories he wrote about wearing diapers, pissing, pooping and eventually cumming in them. All fabricated.

“It was all a fantasy.” he explained, “I never actually wanted it to happen. I never thought it would happen.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked.

He shrugged. “I was worried you would run. How do you explain to the woman you love that you enjoy wearing diapers and being treated like a baby?”

“Just like this,” I said, taking his hand, “So tell me.”

He proceeded to give me his life history. How his fascination started in daycare. That there was a girl there he played the childhood game of “House” with. That he was designated as the ‘baby’. That it was nothing sexual. But his brain must have forged a connection right then and there between liking women and liking being treated like a baby.

He told me about the first time he got the nerve to go to the drugstore and buy a pack of Depends. How nervous he was. That he felt like everyone’s eyes were on him. That his heart was beating out of his chest. He expected them to point and laugh and call him a perv--but none of that happened. The cashier barely looked up from her phone as she rang him up and checked him out and said “have a nice day”.

He told me about the feeling he felt when he first put one on. How comfortable he finally felt. How excited he would get in them. And how much he hated himself the second after he ejaculated in them. He said this would happen multiple times. That he would go through periods of what he called “binging and purging”. Where there would be weeks at a time where all he could think about was getting into a diaper, and then as soon as he came he would be overcome with disgust and throw all of them away.

He told me about how he hated keeping them in the house. Having to hide them. Even when he was in college and had roommates. The nightmares he would have about them finding them, ridiculing him, calling him a freak, etc.

Eventually he just stopped buying diapers altogether. That it became expensive to buy a whole pack, only to use 1 or 2 and then throw them out from fear or shame. So he channeled his pent up energy into his blog, his captions, his stories, and his porn.

“But you never used them?” I asked, “the diapers…”

“No.” he said, shaking his head, and I believed him.

“Well…” I said, tapping his diapered crotch and smiling, “I think it’s finally time.”

His eyes got nice and big, that helpless, pleading look that must be what all Dominants chase.

“I...okay...but...I don’t...have to...right now…” he said unsuredly.

“That’s fine. You will eventually” I said, “But until then, if we’re gonna do this, let’s lay down some ground rules.” I tried to think back to the many lists I'd read about this. I rehearsed this part so many times, but my mind was suddenly blanking a bit. I took a deep breath and recovered. “First: you will not touch your diapers without permission, and you will certainly not remove them. Second: You will NOT use the toilet while you’re in a diaper. Third: You will have something in your mouth at all times, either your thumb or your pacifier or...something.”

And with that I scooped up his paci and put it back in his mouth.

“There will be more rules when…I remember them.” I laughed, but tried to remain in character. “Is that understood, baby?”

He nodded, still sucking the paci.

“Good.” I said, wondering where to go next. “So...has umm..the baby wet his diapy yet?”

He shook his head.

“Awww...well…” I said, finding my footing as I reached into the bag and found what I was looking for. “Maybe the wittle baby needs his ba ba!!”

I tapped my lap, motioning him forward. I climbed onto my legs, laying down in my arms so I could cradle him.

Despite him being practically twice the size of me, he looked so small, so helpless, so adorable. And I felt like I had all the power in the world.

I pulled the paci from his lips and replaced it with the nipple of the bottle. Just warm milk for now. He hated milk, but he seemed to guzzle it gratefully. I watched him suckle like he was one of my own. The love I had for him all these years culminating in this strange bonding situation between us that we never shared before.

About halfway through the bottle he turned away from the nipple. “I...I have to pee now.” he said in his deep, scruffy voice.

“Is that how a baby talks?!” I barked, my voice switching to the stern tone, “Rule #4, while you’re in diapers like a baby, you will TALK like a baby.”

His face flushed a little as he looked side to side as if for help, realized it wasn’t coming, then said “I...I need to pee pee in my diapy Mommy…”

I thought I was going to melt he was so fucking adorable. “Go ahead little one!” I cooed. Pinching his cheeks.

I could feel him clenching as if trying to force it. There must have been a mental block in his head as he tried to reprogram 31 years of potty training. I placed a hand on the crotch of his diaper as a way to cheer him on, and immediately felt it start to warm. The slight sound of piss echoing from within.

It seemed to go on forever, and soon his diaper was properly soaked.

“Awwww!” I cooed again, knowing this part was important “Did the wittle baby go pee peee?”

He nodded, sucking his thumb.

“Will you change me pweath, Mommy?” he asked sweetly.

“Not yet, little one. I think there’s still room for more in there! Especially around the back side!” I grinned.

Again his jaw dropped. “You mean...you want me to…”

“That’s right. #2 for you!” I cooed.

Now, everything I read said that #1 was pretty easy for Adult Babies, but even some of the most experienced ones would rarely make a messy in their diaper.

“If you want...I can slip a little something into your bottle to help...move things along..” I suggested.

“No no it’s fine..I…” he cleared his throat, realizing he wasn’t using his baby voice, “can I just have a wittle...pwivacy?”

“You may not go into the bathroom if that’s what you mean,” I said, “Rule #5: No going into the bathroom while in a diaper. I never know what the wittle baby might be doing in there. But if you want the room to yourself I’ll go make myself a drink…”

And with that I lifted him off me and made my way to the kitchen. Opening up a bottle of Chardonnay that--if I do say so myself--I most certainly earned that day. I tried to linger in there for several minutes, but curiosity was starting to get the best of me.

When I got back in the living room he was crouched behind the couch. Just like a tiny fucking toddler trying to make a mess around others. He was squatted down, thumb was even still in his mouth, making little grunts. I’ll be damned if I didn’t have to fight every urge to pull out my phone and capture this precious moment on film. But I gave him his time. This was important. I wanted him to take this step.

He must have finished, because his head popped up over the couch. I hid behind the wall in the kitchen so he couldn’t see me, and couldn’t know I saw him. He had to come to me.

Which he did, on all fours, crawling on the tile floor.

He knelt down in front of me. A little raised up so as not to squish the mess in the seat of his Pampers. Continuing to suck his thumb and look up at me with those little doe eyes.

“What is it baby?” I asked, playing dumb, taking a sip of wine. Forcing him to voice what he’d just done.

“I..I made…”he stammered, “I made a poopy, Mommy.”

“Awww!! Did somewon make a boom boom??” I teased, feigning surprise. “Let me check the wittle baby’s diapurr!”

As if I needed to, I could smell the stench before I even pulled back the waistband of his diaper to ‘peek’ inside.

“You sure did! A big ‘ole mess in there wike a wittle baby!!” I teased some more. Knowing it would make him blush but also make a little tent in his front.

“Can I have a change now, Mommy?” he implored.

“Hmmm…” I said, tapping my finger to my mouth as if I was in deep thought. “Not quite yet...there’s still one more type of mess the wittle baby can make in his diapy!!”

This time I was sure we both knew what I meant.

“A number 3…”

“A number THREE!” we said together. One more excited than the other.

He put his thumb back in his mouth. I could tell it was starting to become a sign of comfort for him.

“Now you remember Rule #1 don’t you?” I asked, “you haven’t forgotten already have you?”

“No touching my diapers…” he said timidly.

“That’s right!! And i’m certainly not touching that filthy thing right now...so how do you think the wittle baby gets to cum without either of us touching him?!”

“I have to hump the floor…” he said feebly.

“You have to hump the floor.” I repeated matter-of-factly.

He grimaced as he squished in his diaper, climbing onto his belly and laying flat on the floor.

“I want you to know I’m going to video this” I said, pulling out my phone.”I want you to look at the camera, tell me who you are, and what you’re about to do. Use your baby voice, because this will be going on that wittle blog of yours!”

His face flushed as I put the camera in his face. “M-my name’s David. Err..Baby D-Davey. And I’m about to make humpies in my wet, messy diapy…”

He looked at me as if for reassurance. I nodded to let him know that was acceptable. So he got down flat on the floor, squishing his diaper into himself and the tile with a squelch.

“Thumb in your mouth baby.” I said, making sure to get a straight shot of his face and everything else.

He placed his thumb into his mouth, wriggled a bit to get in a better position, then slowly started rocking back and forth.

“Mmmm..” he started moaning. Getting more and more into it. Slipping into little space. “Oooo yea…” he said around his thumb.

“Tell me what you are, sweetie!” I said, knowing it would make for a better video.

“I’m a wittle baby!” he whimpered, “I’m a wet. Dirty. Wittle. Baby.” He emphasized each word with a little thrust of his diaper.

“But you’re more than that aren’t you?” I asked, finally finding a place to fit it in.

He looked at me a bit befuddled. Still humping. Trying to determine what I meant.

“I saw the other stuff…” I said, “The sissy stuff.”

His face dropped a little.

“You don’t want to just be a diaper wearing baby boy do you?” I asked, “You want to be a diaper wearing sissy baby gurl!”

He paused his humping. Thumb still in his mouth.

“It’s okay baby,” I said, placing a hand on his shoulder, “It just means you’ll wear pink diapers instead of blue ones. Now tell me. Tell me what you really are.”

His face flushed as he eyed the camera. He resumed humping as if it would help him find the words.

“I’m...a wittle..s-sissy...baby” he said. His voice becoming more infantile as he went “I like to wear diapies and dwesses, I like to have things up my bum bum, I like to spin awound wike a wittle pwetty pwincess and make messies in my diapy…”

His head hung as he said it. As if everything he said was the first time he’d ever spoken them out loud. But his pace quickened.

“You’re gonna cum in your diaper aren’t you?” I asked.

“I’m gonna cum in my diaper.” he breathed.

“You’re gonna make a #3 while you’re squirming in a #1 and 2.”

“I’m gonna cum in my pee pee and poo poo”

His voice was getting more high pitched and pathetic by the second. His moans and breathing intensified.

“You’re gonna go goo goo while you ga ga”

“Goo. Goo. Ga. Gaaaaa” he moaned. His hips clenched, his diaper crinkled, he made two more tiny thrusts, and I knew. It had happened.

“What happened baby?” I asked.

“I...made...stickies...Mommy…” he breathed.

“Come show the camera.” I said.

He climbed up on his knees and waddled towards me. I pulled the front of his waistband slightly open, pointing the camera inside that was now full of his sticky goo. Amongst other things.

“Good gurll!!!” I cooed. Clicking the camera off.

He was still breathing hard from his post-orgasm high.

“Wow…That was great!” He said. Switching back to his normal, manly voice. “Thank you so much for doing that for me honey. Now can I take this off?” He asked, but he didn’t wait for an answer, just moved his hands to the tabs of the diaper.

I smacked his hand away.

“Ow what the hell?” he asked incredulously.

I specifically remembered how important this part was. From Madame Madeline’s Guide to Raising an Adult Baby she gave a specific warning: Watch out, in the early stages when an Adult Baby has cum, they will try to return to adulthood in a flash. Their horniness has faded and they want to be normal.  Do NOT let this happen.

“We’re not done.” I said.

He laughed. “Honey, it’s fine. I came. You don’t have to do this anymore. That was great! I didn’t know you had that in you…”

“We’re not done.” I repeated. Again he looked at me with that taken aback look. “This is something you’ve fantasized about for at least 9 years when you started that Tumblr, and I want to make it a reality.” I said firmly.

“B-but that’s...that’s not...what I want.” He stammered.

“Of course it is. You’re only saying that now cause you got your rocks off. But I want you to be this way even when you’re not horny.” I could hardly believe my own words, so I can’t imagine how he took them.

“I-in diapers?” he asked.

“Yes. All the time. Your potty privileges have been revoked. You will use your diapers from now on. Oh…and you will be wearing this….” I reached back into the bag one more time and pulled out The Vice chastity device I had seen so many positive reviews on. His saucer-sized eyes let me know he knew exactly what it was, and what it was for.

Then I remembered one more thing. “Oh...and how serious were you about this whole ‘cuckolding’ thing?” I asked with an evil grin.

The End