Tag: diaper

crinkly diaper

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

Chris was a lanky, 23-year-old man with a longstanding habit of dramatically sighing whenever I produced his diaper from my sleeve. Like a magician with big tits. “Cory,” he’d say, his eyes rolling toward the cosmos, “must you always do the dramatic crinkle thing?”

I couldn’t help it! The crinkle was my love language. One particularly memorable Tuesday, as I prepared to unleash the crinkle on his post-chili-calamity mess, I realized I’d accidentally bought the “super-squishy, ultra-quiet” eco-diapers. Panic set in faster than Chris could say “I’m totally fine, really.”

Continue reading “Diaper Magician” →

Mama Felicity 1844-332-2639 Ext 270

Finally! I’d found the stinker that ruined Kayla’s birthday party! I held him up high for the crowd of girls to see, and they cheered. “Finally! Hurry and change him.” “Peeyouu!”, “Oh my god, he stinks!” They all erupted at once, but Kayla pushed her way closer and shoved her nose to the saggy seat of his overstuffed Pampers cruiser and yelled the loudest. “Peyouu! You is one stinky boy!” Mr. Stinkypampers’ face turned beet red as he looked back at her, smelling his stinky pants, and in a soft voice said, “Nutuh.”

Continue reading “The Stinker That Ruined Kayla’s Birthday Party Part Three” →

Felicity wears a diaper and lingerie

Phonesex with Felicity 1844-332-2639 x 270

As an ABDL Mommy, I’m around diapers a lot. Some babies love diapers so much that they want to see Mommy in them. I’m asked all the time to put on a diaper. I always say no and remind my babies that Mommy is a big girl and doesn’t have accidents like they do, so I don’t need them.

But the truth is, just because I don’t need them, doesn’t mean I don’t like to wear them on special occasions. For example, tonight is Little Donny’s birthday, and I’ve planned a special surprise for him. I’m going to wear a thick, crinkly diaper under my lingerie.

Continue reading “Diaper And Lingerie” →

Mama Felicity 1844-332-2639 Ext 270

When I arrive at the Halloween party, everyone is scurrying about, yelling “Peyyouuuu, ohhhiieee, wheewchhooo! Someone find that stinky pants! God help us, it smells so bad!”

 All the hot moms are in sexy slutty costumes with their big mommy milkers bursting from their tops as they plug their noses, and there are so many toddlers in costumes running amok. I’m not sure how the Stinky Pants Detective will solve this Halloween mystery, but I’m up for the challenge. After assuring all the Moms I’ll uncover who made a stinky and get them changed fast, I start to sniff the air, looking for the trail.

Continue reading “Stinky Pants Detective is Called To A Halloween Party” →

Stinky Pants Detective

Mama Felicity 1844-332-2639 Ext 270

Whenever there is a stinky problem and no one can locate the source, they call in the stinky pants detective. Babies R Us was having this horrible, peeyouuu problem, and none of the mommies shopping could find the stinker who’d stunk up the aisles. They called me, desperate to remove the smell from the store so people could shop in peace.

The moment my high heels breezed through the doorway, I knew the smell. No one in the world smells as bad as Mr. Stinky Pampers, and that special flavor of stink tickled my nose. I sniffed, instantly regretting it, and started my search.

Continue reading “Stinky Pants Detective” →

Phonesex with Felicity 1844-332-2639 x 270

It’s been two days since I took away Todd’s potty rights. So far, he’s only wet his diaper, but I know he can’t hold out forever. This morning, I noticed he had been rubbing his tummy. I think I even heard it gurgling. “Aw, Todd. Are you hungry, baby?” I thought maybe feeding him would make him feel better. But instead, he shook his head with a worried look. “May I use the potty, Mommy?” He begged in a small voice.

“No, Sir! That’s what your diapers are for, remember? No more potty time. You’ll mess yourself like the baby you are.”

Continue reading “Feeding Time Stinks!” →

Mommy Wants To Watch You Potty

Mama Felicity 1844-332-2639 Ext 270

I have a bit of a naught fascination. Some may even call it a kink, but I love to get boys really, really hard and as I’m stroking them, beg them to potty for me before making cummies. It’s so sexy watching them become nervous and turned on.

I always used to hear that boys couldn’t tinkle if they were hard, but that’s so untrue. Mommy wants to watch that unpredictable stream flooding from your tip before the eruption of cum follows the relief.

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sex therapy

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

They call me Dr. Cory. I prefer just Cory, though. It feels more intimate. My patients, especially the men, seem to appreciate that. They usually walk in here carrying the weight of the world on their shoulders, desperate for a listening ear, a compassionate gaze. What they don’t see, what they could never see, is the coiled viper beneath the serene exterior. A promise I made to myself years ago, after a man, a grown man, shattered my innocence. My revenge, you see, isn’t loud or violent. It’s surgical. Psychological. It’s how I remain in complete control.

Donald was my latest project. He shuffled into my office, a walking bundle of anxiety and vague dissatisfactions. His tie was too tight, his shoulders hunched, his voice a low monotone as he listed his woes: feelings of inadequacy, trouble sleeping, a general sense of being “stuck.” Typical. The moment he sat down, I knew his path. Regression therapy. The ultimate emasculation. We’re talking diapers, pacifier, babbling…the whole shebang. He was the perfect candidate.

Continue reading “Dr. Cory Has A Secret” →

bitch

Anna 844-332-2639 EXT. 203

Mommy Anna took her naughty boy to the mall to buy some clothes. She warned him before they left that he’d better behave. Something told her that he wouldn’t so she packed a diaper bag just in case. As they walked in the mall, hand in hand, Mommy Anna started to notice something funny.

Continue reading “Mommy Anna humiliates her baby” →

He's MY Diaper Boy Now

Kayla Cumsalot 1844-33-CANDY Ext 357

Brayn was just about how our diapers and waiting on shipping wasn’t an option. We had to go to Target, or he’d have accidents all over the house. I taped him up tight in his last Pamper, and away we went. I love when the back of his diaper peeks out of his jeans, so as we were walking into the store, I reached down his pants to give it a little tug. Making sure anyone who saw us would know he was my diaper boy. It’s a good thing I did because as we rounded the baby aisle, we bumped right into his ex-girlfriend, Laura Jean!

Continue reading “He’s MY Diaper Boy Now” →