Author: Cory

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

I stood in the center of the playroom with my arms crossed tightly over my chest. Max was attempting to shrink away into the corner, with his paci dangling uselessly from his lips. He had been told repeatedly that his behavior was unacceptable, yet he had chosen to ignore the boundaries I laid out for him.

I walked towards him and stopped just inches away, towering over his small, cowering frame. “Do you have any idea why you’re sitting in timeout, darling?” I asked, calmly. He tried to mumble something, but I reached down and firmly removed the paci from his mouth. “What have I told you about speaking with your mouth full?” I asked, setting his paci on the high shelf where he couldn’t reach it. His bottom lip trembled, but I remained unmoved. He had prioritized his own selfish impulses over the rules of our household, and the time for coddling had long since passed.

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Permission

Posted on by Cory

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

“What if I don’t want to?” The moment those words left his lips, they shattered the careful dynamic of our session. My gaze became icy and fixed, watching the way he instinctively shrank as his eyes widened in fear. He knew better than to speak without my permission, yet his tongue had proven unruly.

I circled him, savoring the onset of a hunt, with my hands clasped firmly behind my back as I surveyed the pathetic tension radiating from his naked body. When I finally stopped directly in front of him, I didn’t raise my voice. I didn’t need to. I simply tilted my head, looking down at his bowed crown with a mixture of disappointment and calculated authority. “Do you truly think your opinion is something I require, especially when it is offered so carelessly?” I asked, calmly.

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Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

My duties as the resident “Mama” were officially on pause. Upstairs, my ABDL boys were safely tucked into their cribs, safely swaddled with their paci’s. I kicked off my slippers with a sigh of relief as the clock struck ten. Being a caretaker for my ABDL boys was a full-time passion, but my internal thermostat was currently screaming for something entirely different. Something definitely not nursery-rhyme approved.

A wicked grin spread across my face as I pulled my phone from my pocket and scrolled through my contacts with a wet pussy. I wasn’t looking for another playdate or a diaper-changing partner tonight, I wanted someone who didn’t know the first thing about baby powder. A hot, rugged guy who would look at me not as a caregiver, but as the woman I kept hidden behind all those bedtime stories and soft lullabies.

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Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

I really should have known better than to let my little ABDL diaper enthusiast, Leo, sit on the cream-colored sofa. I was busy folding laundry in the next room, humming along to the radio, when the distinct, rhythmic squelch-squelch of a soggy diaper signaled that my boy had once again pushed his luck to the absolute limit.

When I marched into the living room, I found him staring at the ceiling with that wide-eyed, guilt-ridden expression that only a grown man wearing a printed disposable pampers can pull off. “Oopsie, Mama Cory,” he squeaked. His voice cracked with feigned innocence, while a widening, warm puddle beneath his backside confirmed exactly what kind of afternoon we were about to have.

Continue reading “my little ABDL diaper enthusiast” →

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

I’ve learned that the world is essentially a runway if you have the right silhouette. Every step I take feels like a choreographed performance. It’s almost a game at this point – counting the lingering men with their eyes locking onto the sway of my MILF ass. My hips sway with a deliberate, rhythmic grace that leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination.

I don’t shy away from their hunger. Instead, I adjust my stance just a fraction, letting the ambient lighting catch the contours of my BBL. That’s right, I have one. The blatant staring is a testament to the fact that my investment is working exactly as intended.

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Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

He’d been especially obedient today, never once faltering as I asked him to fetch my slippers, dust the bookshelf, or even whisper a shy “good girl” whenever I caught his eyes darting away in embarrassment. So, I decided that a reward was in order.

When I called him into the living room, he hesitated at the doorway. I guided him onto the plush couch. My hands moved with deliberate slowness, brushing against his smooth skin, feeling the delicate tremor that rose with each lingering touch. I slipped my fingers under his robe, tracing the curve of his waist, then sliding down to his hips, where the soft fabric clung to his slender thighs.

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Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

I stared at the glowing screen of my phone. “Are you ready to be my Mom tonight?” I typed back a simple “Yes,” and within seconds he confirmed his billing info. When the call finally connected, he introduced himself as Julian. I could hear the quiet tremor in his tone as he spoke about the day’s hardships, about feeling lost in the bustling city, and about how he needed a Mommy to hold his hand through the night. I responded with gentle affirmations.

As the conversation unfolded, we talked about the usual topics of ABDL fantasy calls. The soft, crinkling sound of fresh diapers, the delicate rustle of cozy blankets, and the way a simple lullaby could melt away the jagged edges of a stressful day. Julian’s voice grew softer, almost as if he were drifting into a dream, and he confessed that he had never played with a “Mommy” before.

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Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

I had just left the coffee shop where I’d been nursing a latte, thinking about the cute guy I saw ordering coffee while I was there. He was in and out in a flash, but the scent of his cologne lingered just enough for me to daydream. I turned the corner onto Maple Avenue, my favorite shortcut, and there he was, leaning against the brick wall of the alley. It started to rain almost as soon as we made eye-contact.

I laughed in disbelief and he reached out, brushing a stray droplet of water from my cheek. The feeling of his fingertip on my face sent a delightful shiver down my spine. “You look like you belong in a movie,” he whispered. I answered with a cheeky “Only if you’re the director,” and we both giggled.

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Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

I slipped the silk camisole over my head, feeling the buttery fabric glide against my skin. My heart fluttered when I felt the delicate lace trimmed the edges of the garment. Each tiny stitch promised a day of exquisite self‑indulgence. I twirled before the full‑length mirror, watching the soft ivory cascade over my curves. The scent of fresh laundry mingled with a faint trace of vanilla from the candle on my dresser and I laughed, savoring the simple, almost reckless joy of dressing for no one but myself.

The afternoon stretched lazily and I decided to venture out for coffee. I paired my lacy underlayer with a loose, button‑down shirt that fluttered just enough to hint at the hidden treasure beneath. As I stepped onto the bustling sidewalk, a breeze lifted the hem of my skirt, teasing a flash of blush‑pink satin that made my cheeks warm with delighted embarrassment.

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Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

I still remember the exact moment I first saw HeyZeus across the desert. Being a whore, especially back then, I could feel the magnetic pull of his curiosity. Despite the general consensus that girls like me were dirty. There was something deeply attractive about the way his eyes flickered between intrigue and caution whenever he looked at me. I knew that it would be nearly impossible for him to ignore the growing, inevitable need to explore his desires. It was springtime in the desert, after all.

HeyZeus spoke in hushed tones of the towering expectations his father. More specifically, the insistence that HeyZeus (and everyone else in his village)’s first sexual experience should be sealed within the sanctity of marriage. His father was mighty and powerful, among other things, and had a very strong pull on the entire world’s day to day thoughts and behaviors.

Continue reading “The Whore of Nazareth” →