Category: adult babies

abdl blog

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

When most folks hear “massage parlor,” they think hot stones and essential oils. And we have those, of course. My hands are good, trained to ease knots you didn’t even know you carried. But it was never quite enough, not for me, and certainly not for some of my more adventurous clients. I noticed a pattern. A look in their eyes, a certain aspect of their tension that a standard massage just couldn’t quite smooth away. They craved a different kind of release, a deeper surrender.

That’s where the “add-on” came in. It started subtly, a suggestion here, a whispered request there. Soon enough, it became my signature service, the one that keeps my regulars coming back, often with that eager, almost wonderous glint in their eyes. After a thorough, tension-melting massage, when their muscles are liquid and their minds are drifting, I offer it. “How about something truly liberating today?” I’d purr, my voice effortlessly reassuring. Many already know what I mean. For those who don’t, I explain: a comfortable, absorbent diaper, snugged just right, a return to a state of complete, unburdened freedom.

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Zesty Zoey 1-844-332-2639 Ext 403

My sweet boy K tries so hard to be a big boy.  But every night he falls a little short.  Because when he wakes up the same thing has happened each night.  K has wet the bed.  Then I recently began to find wet pants hidden in the hamper.  So, sweet mommy Zoey has made the decision the tame has come for unpotty training baby K.

I broke the news to him at bedtime.  He was expecting me to get his pullups out for under his jammies.  However, instead I told him to lay down on his back and to spread his legs nice and wide.  He was so shocked when instead of a pullup, I pulled out a brand-new package of Pampers.  I bought them at the store that afternoon.

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Mommy's New Toilet

Mama Felicity 1844-332-2639 Ext 270

I had Dan’s ankles held up in the web of my hand and his fresh diaper was tucked right under his bare butt when it hit me like a train. I had to go and badly! My knees bumped against each other and rubbed as I started to bounce a little. The tinkle dance was taking over me, but I wasn’t finished changing Dan.

“Ohh, I have to go. I have to go so, so bad.” I whined and shook the powder over Dan’s penis. He was semi-hard, and watching Mommy dance around was making his little dock grow harder. “Fuck,” I crossed my legs, thinking Id never make it all the way downstairs and to the restroom. The open diaper under me was dry as a bone, and Dan wets so fast anyway! I climbed up to straddle his lap and pulled my panties to the side. He looked at me with lustful eyes, watching where my crotch hovered over his. “You don’t mind wearing Mommy’s new toilet for a little while, do you?”

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Timmy's Tantrum

Valerie 1844-332-2639 Ext 243

I scanned the field as I walked closer to the stands. The new guy I’ve been seeing plays on this co-ed softball team against other local businesses every Wednesday night. They get hot and sweaty, then after the game, go to the pub around the corner from the field to grab a few cold ones. Timmy takes softball VERY seriously.

He’s the guy who organizes the practices, schedules the games with the other teams, and is their star batter. The man is swoon-worthy when dominating the diamond, but at home, he’s just my wittle Timmy. At home, he can’t tie his shoes or catch a ball! He’s far too wittle for big boy things like that, never mind playing a game with the big kids or knowing how to use the potty. Softball and I are two parts of his life that Timmy would prefer never to collide. That’s why I’ve decided to crash his game tonight and be the best sports mom he never knew he wanted.

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Zesty Zoey 1-844-332-2639 Ext 403

You’ve worked hard all week long.  You deserve a break from the responsibilities and demands of your adult life.  I provide you with the perfect escape from the reality of all you have to do and face throughout the week.  All you have to do is turn yourself over to me and my ministrations.  I know the best way to let go of all those adult worries is to regress you back to when life wasn’t so stressful and demanding.  Your transformation starts when I strip off your grown up clothes and slip on your weekend diaper.  Now you’re my good little baby who only has to obey Mommy Zoey.

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abdl

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

James was one of my regulars. He was a successful architect, intelligent and articulate in his professional life, but beneath the veneer of competence was a deep-seated need for comfort and discipline. The contrast was often poignant. He stood on the porch, clutching a worn teddy, his eyes wide and a little anxious. “Cory,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. “Hey, sweetie,” I replied, opening the door wider. “Come on in. It’s chilly out.”

He shuffled inside, immediately drawn to the cozy warmth of my living room. The scent of lavender and vanilla filled the air, the soft lighting casting a comforting glow. A playpen sat discreetly in the corner, surrounded by toys and plush blankets. It was a sanctuary. “Rough day?” I asked, gesturing towards the plush armchair. He nodded, burying his face in the teddy. “Mr. Henderson keeps micromanaging everything.” I knelt beside him, placing a gentle hand on his back. “Sounds stressful, honey. Did you remember to wear your pull-up today?” He nodded again, a small blush creeping up his neck. “Yes, Mama.” “Good boy,” I praised, my voice soft but firm. “Did you have any accidents?”

Continue reading “James Needs A Break” →

abdl

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

The Met Gala was a whirlwind of glamour and chaos. The red carpet was a sea of flashing cameras and eager photographers. I stood there in my silver mermaid gown, the cool fabric shimmering under the bright lights. My silver flowers in my hair added a touch of whimsy to the futuristic look. You, in your silver suit, looked like a god among men. The photographers loved us, snapping pictures as if we were A-listers.

You leaned in, your breath hot on my ear, and I thought you were going to give me a sexy bite. Instead, you whispered, “I had an accident.” My eyes widened, but I kept my composure. “It’s okay,” I reassured you, my voice steady despite the chaos inside me. “Let’s get inside.” Once we were in, we ran into an old friend who quickly understood the situation. She led us to the washroom, her eyes sparkling with amusement. The changing table was tiny, barely big enough to sit on, let alone hold a grown man. You looked at me, a mix of embarrassment and relief in your eyes. “I can’t believe this is happening,” you muttered,

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Phonesex With Felicity 1844-332-2639 x 270

My good friend Kelly has married a cheater. He is the kind of man who just can’t keep his dick in his pants. I saw all the warning signs and all the red flags, and I tried to tell her not to marry him, but she was in love. She “trusted” him not to break her heart or hurt her—poor, stupid Kelly.

It’s been three months since the wedding, and already, he’s gotten sloppy. He left his social media logged in on their home computer, and when she sat down to pay bills, she saw the messages between him and some teenybopper slut. Kelly was beside herself as if she didn’t see this coming. She cried on my shoulder, asking for advice, and since she hadn’t listened to me the first time I gave some (telling her not to marry him), I knew I had to take care of this myself. I was going to diaper a cheater.

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Mommy Loves You

*LUCY* 844-332-2639 xxx- 221

As an ABDL mommy I can confidently say that mommy loves you my kinky babies. You diaper lovers always make me laugh. Trying to pretend that you don’t need to be changed, when you really do, just to make me angry.
If you didn’t have an accident then why do you have such a full diaper? Is that why you’re extra fussy tonight? Why are you being so disobedient when it comes to me changing you?

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familiar

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

The screen door slammed shut, and I heard the familiar thud of Ronnie’s sneakers hitting the worn wooden floor. “Mama Cory, we’re back!” he yelled, his voice echoing through the small house. His sister, bless her heart, trailed behind him, her face a picture of quiet contemplation.

Last Sunday was supposed to be a good one. I’d given my son Ronnie and his sister the donation money for church, a whole twenty dollars, carefully saved from my meager earnings at the diner. Church donations weren’t compulsory, but I liked to give what I could to help with church expenses. It was my way of contributing to the community, teaching Ronnie and his sister to be charitable human beings.

Continue reading “the familiar thud of Ronnie’s sneakers” →