Diapers At Home (Patreon)

This all started when I came home early on Thursday and opened my front door to see my boyfriend dart across the room with something crinkly and white wrapped around his waist. I took a second to collect myself. I didn't know my boyfriend wore tighty whities, so I put down my keys and headed in the direction of where my boyfriend had vanished too.

I found him. The poor man was huddled in the hall bathroom, nearly naked. Nearly, because he was wearing a thick, crinkly diaper as it turned out. It looked comical between his legs, forcing his legs outwards slightly, each time he moved the plastic flexing and announcing its presence. 

I couldn't help it. 

I laughed. 

"Come on out of the bathroom baby," I said gently, my eyes boring into his. "I don't think you'll be needing the toilet today."

He grimaced slightly as he stood up and followed me out of the bathroom. He tried to head to the bedroom, but I directed him to the couch. No, he wasn't going to be hiding from me. He and I were going to speak about this little… diaper of his. 

My boyfriend squirmed uncomfortably under my gaze as he sat on the couch. He seemed to be looking everywhere but at me, but I had questions. 

Turns out he loved to wear diapers for fun. The little pervert even had a stash of them in his side of the closet. How do I know? I made him go get the pack of diapers. I giggled, watching his butt waddle across the room and vanish into the bedroom, and laughed again as he crinkled his way back to the living room. 

He went to sit back on the couch, but I pointed to the floor. "Babies sit on the floor," I said casually. 

And then I saw it. The corners of his mouth turned up slightly and that's when I became curious. Curious about what he liked so much about this? Turns out he didn't just enjoy wearing the diapers for fun, but he loved using them too. Peeing in them. Over the next few weeks, I couldn't help but think about his diaper butt waddling around the house and how the corner of his mouth twitched in the right direction when I told him to sit on the floor. So I made a decision. I would indulge his little perverted fetish. I was going to make a rule: If he was inside my house, he would wear diapers. And only I was allowed to change him.

When I told him, he gave me a skeptical look. 

"Wouldn't you like that?" I sneered in his direction as he shifted uneasily in his seat.

"What's the catch?"

"There is no catch," then I paused for a moment. "Well, there is one." And I told him. Only I was allowed to change his diapers. He'd have to wear diapers whenever he was at home. From the moment he entered the house, he was supposed to go straight to his room and put on one of those thick crinkly diapers, and only I could change him. He could choose whatever diaper he wanted, but I would let him know when he could get out of them. All he had to do was ask me.

If my boyfriend thought there could be a trick here, he didn't say anything. He went straight to our bedroom and, after a few moments, returned, this time some tell-tale crinkling under his pants. 

My boyfriend was diapered. 

And that's the way it was for the next few days. I'd arrive home, find my boyfriend in the kitchen or on the couch and I'd sit and listen. And then I'd hear it; his diapers would rustle loudly under his clothes, warning anyone who could hear the noise, that he was wearing his toilet around with him wherever he went. 

The diaper changes were easy too. My boyfrined woudl come to me and say he would like a diaper change. I'd have him pick out his favorite diaper and then lay him on the floor for a change. It was always funny, unwrapping his extremely average-sized but hard penis from inside the plastic padding. It was always amusing to see his little boner pop up and bob gently in the air as I wiped it down with a cold baby wipe. My boyfriend would wince and shiver as I had him lift up and powder him before wrapping him into a new diaper. 

I would then pat him on his fresh diaper and send him on his way.

That process would repeat over and over and over again for a few more days. Until one Friday, he suddenly started to get cold feet. 

"Babe?' he asked as I was changing him. "Do I have to wear diapers tonight? Tonight is… well, you know…."

I paused in the middle of rubbing baby lotion into his sensitive, jumping penis. "You know?" I repeated back to him. 

"You have girl's night tonight…." 

"Oh sweetie, of course I do. And I'm looking forward to it."

"But what if they find out?"

I laughed and reassured him that they wouldn't find out unless he made things completely obvious. The look of panic on his face caused my heart to flutter. He was scared, and for some reason, seeing him look at me with those eyes while in that thick, plastic padding set something off inside of me. 

But dinner time with the girls was easy. They didn't even notice he was wearing a diaper. I coudl tell my boyfriend was getting jumpy as Natayla and Irina sat at the table and drank wine and got good and drunk. He even began to relax a little. 

That night, as I lay next to him, patting the back of his diaper, I knew that this diapered-at-home rule was going to get even more complicated. When the girls were over, I noticed he tried to avoid us entirely, afraid the crinkling would give him away to Irina and Natalya. I noticed he took his plate into the bedroom and ate there quietly by himself. At the same time, we sat out in the living room, swiping through Tinder for Natalya's dates in the upcoming week. He was as invisible as a newborn baby, sleeping peacefully away while the adults were at play.

But when the night wrapped up, I found my boyfriend in the bedroom, sitting in a puddle. His diaper had leaked, and he was too embarrassed to come out and ask me for a change. On the one hand, I was proud of him for following the one rule that we had, the one rule I had established: Only I can change his diapers. But he'd also leaked all over my floor, which meant he needed to be punished. I pulled out a second diaper and had him lay down.

He squished backward, expecting me to give him the change he wanted… but I surprised him. I just wrapped his soaking wet diaper in the new disposable one. The look on his face was priceless. He moaned slightly and squirmed. 

"Why didn't you change me?" He complained when I put the final tape onto his now bulging diaper. 

"This is the consequence for peeing all over my floor," I said dismissively. I then pointed my boyfriend towards the couch and said he could find a blanket and we could try again in the morning. 

I think him spending the night squishing around in his overfilled diapers did the trick because the following day, I saw my baby in the kitchen cooking breakfast. He didn't even bother putting on pants. Instead, he stood there, swaying from side to side, cooking the eggs and dipping the gooey batter for the French toast. His quads, ugh, his wonderfully large quads contrasted against the thick padding of his diaper. The dinosaurs on the diaper just made things even more comical. 

After he had given me breakfast, I finally honored his request. I gave him a diaper change. 

As I wiped him with the baby wipes and sprinkled him with more powder than necessary, I reminded him that he wanted this and that this was his life now, as long as he was with me. 

This time, he didn't seem so eager. This time he didn't seem as happy as he was at first. This time, I think it was starting to sink in exactly what my "diapers at home policy" meant for him. 

***

He found out pretty quickly when he had to work from home the next day. The entire day he had been squirming in his chair, sometimes pacing the floor with an anxiety I had seen before in his eyes. I decided to have some fun with this moment so he wouldn't forget this… ever. 

"Is everything okay?" I asked him from my perch at the kitchen counter. He opened his mouth to speak, but I cut him off. I wanted to remind him that I was in the power position and he was nothing more than a baby in my eyes. A mere infant. "Do you need a diaper change?"

He shook his head. He knew if I changed his diaper now, it wasn't happening again for at least another three hours. I told him that the last time he asked for back-to-back changes that I was his girlfriend, not a diaper changing service. 

"Okay, well, as long as you're okay." I grabbed my backpack and headed to the door. "I'm just going to run a few errands. I'll be back in twenty minutes."

He nodded, then grimaced. Looking at him squirm at his standing desk almost made me feel sorry for him and the extra fiber I had been feeding him all weekend. 

I knew he was about to go through hell, so I just decided to remind him of what would happen if he broke the rules. He would be punished.

So I got into my car and drove around the block. Next, I accessed the Ring Camera inside my house and watched what happened next. 

First, he stood at his desk and squirmed around a bit more. Then I saw him crouch a little bit but then quickly stand up. He looked around for a moment then walked straight to the bathroom. What was funny was because he had to use the restroom; it looked more like a painful waddle than anything else. His hand was grasping the back of his diaper as he waddled to the door. 

I couldn't be mad; no one wants to have a mess in their diaper. But this also meant my boyfriend was trying to break the rules. What a bad boy.

I watched as he turned the knob and then looked stunned as he tried again. Oh, you bet I wasn't dumb, I had locked the doors, and I also had the only key to the bathrooms on me. I watched as he waddled to the other bathroom only to see the same thing. 

He looked confused for a moment and then went back to his desk and began swaying from foot to foot. I watched for another moment and then…it happened. 

I heard him wail as he squatted down and bared down on his haunches. The joy I felt in my heart when I watched the back of his diaper fill absolutely and completely was such a high. He was in the ultimate submissive position at this point. Finally after what was five minutes, he finished and slowly stood up. 

At that point, I made myself busy for two more hours. Let him sit in his mess for a bit; teach him to get used to this. If he was going to wear diapers in my house, he'd wear them on my schedule. I could imagine what it looked like the first time he had to sit down with his loaded diaper. The squish that he'd feel as the mess would ooze over every single crevice and sensitive part down there. He'd constantly be reminded over and over again about the infantile mess in his diaper, the mess that he asked me for by wearing diapers and letting me control his changes. 

Oh how eager men are when they think they have the upper hand. 

When I returned home, he was nearly hysterical when he saw me. Evidently, he hated sitting in his own mess. He was gross, he said. He wasn't a baby. And the doors, why were they locked?

"They were locked because you gave up your toilet privileges when you agreed to my terms," I said coldly as I laid out another diaper on the floor. "Now it's time for your change, or do you want to spend more time in that diaper of yours."

He winced as he walked over to the floor and eased himself slowly onto the floor. I took my time changing his diaper. Obviously, it was gross, but prolonging this change meant that he spent more time basking the humiliation of a full, loaded, poopy diaper while his attractive girlfriend watched over him. 

But once he was all cleaned up and ready to go, I told him I'd let him know what his punishment was later. I think he was genuinely surprised when I told him a punishment was coming. But what did he expect? He tried to break the rules, and now there was hell to pay. 

***'

I told him on Thursday that he would get an enema twice over the next three days. And he could decide what day he got one of them. But I got to determine when one of them happened. So it would be in his best interest to choose wisely. He needed to be taught what it was like to spend time in his diapers so he'd learn not to instantly reach for the bathroom when he needed to make a mess. 

He told me he wanted to have the first enema on Saturday, no doubt, because he didn't want to have to go anywhere in a loaded diaper. I agreed and then told him I'd let him know when he'd be getting his first one. 

When Friday rolled around, he ate a lot of fiber and bulk foods. I had told him to make sure he wasn't empty because he needed to be full for his enema tomorrow. My boyfriend did his duty, ate crackers, oatmeals, whole grain bread while preparing for my two friends to come over for our weekly Friday night gathering. 

I knew he'd been drinking a ton of water too, so I offered to give him a diaper change before the girls came over. When they were over, he didn't want to have a full diaper, right? But when I lay him down on the living room floor and began cleaning him up, I slowly pushed my finger inside him with two suppositories. 

"What was that?" He asked, alarmed. 

"It was nothing," I responded quietly, "Just your punishment for trying to use the bathroom the other day." I taped him up and had him lift up again, and slid a pair of plastic pants underneath him. I had him flip over as I locked them shut. "Oh, and you're spending time with us tonight downstairs… don't even think about hiding in your room."

His jaw dropped open at that. "But… I…" 

"Oh sweetie. You can always say no, but then that means… "I looked at him to finish my sentence. 

"No diapers in the house…" he mumbled. 

"Forever." I smiled and patted the front of his diaper. "Be downstairs in ten mins. Irina and Natalya are on their way."

***

Thirty minutes into dinner, my boyfriend started squirming. He stopped eating and talking and instead got this withdrawn look. 

"Is everything okay?" Natalya asked him. 

He refused to answer and instead just grimaced. The night moved on for another fifteen minutes when I saw my boyfriend squirm uncomfortably and then gasp slightly. I got up from my side of the couch and sat right next to him, sliding one hand down the back of his pants, holding the seat of his diaper through his plastic pants. 

The best part was that Natalya and Irina were too drunk to notice. 

And then I felt him push his mess into his diaper. I felt it pushing out into his diaper, the heaviness of the mess pushing out the seat of his pants. But because he was sitting, it rolled to the front of the diaper. I heard his soft grunts and moans as he completed his task. Finally, I felt him relax. 

I laughed slightly. My boyfriend had messed himself in front of the entire group… and little did he know, his humiliation was not over yet. 

I let him stew in his mess for a bit as I relocated back to the other side of the couch. I purposely ignored him but could hear his whimpering from the other side of the room. I knew what was going on inside his head… he was paralyzed with fear. Would Irina and Natalya find out that he was wearing a loaded diaper, filled to the brim with his poopy mess, the mess that only a pathetic little baby would make? Would they be able to smell what happened? Would they start looking for the source of the smell only to discover that a grown man had messed himself like a little baby in the middle of our weekly game night?

No, they wouldn't smell him. There was a reason I put the plastic pants on top of his crinkly diaper. I wanted him to have to announce to me when he needed a change and remember that "mommy knows best." 

Which is why when he stood up and whispered in my ear that he needed a change, I decided that that was good enough. I told him to sit back down and that if he really needed a change, he could ask me from his spot on the couch over there. 

His face turned red as the girls looked at me and then him. 

"A change?" Irina asked, taking another sip of red wine. "Did you spill something on your pants?" She looked him up and down.

I looked at my boyfriend, who looked like he wanted to sink into the floor. This was the moment. He could either ask me for a change now or he could go to bed in his packed pampers. I raised an eyebrow and waited for him to make that decision. I could see the gears moving in his head as he tried to think of a way out of this mess. He was thinking, could he spend the night tossing and turning as the mess encased his little pee pee, squishing at ever slight movement, knowing that the next morning he'd wake up with a horrible rash? A rash that he'd have to beg me… his attractive girlfriend to put cream on just to soothe his burning genitals. 

He decided to tell me. First, he said it quietly. 

"I need a diaper change," he mumbled. 

Natalya laughed. "What did he say?"

I looked at him. "Sweetheart, you need to speak louder, or you can go straight to bed now."

His mouth shut. 

"Well then," I said, putting down the wine glass. "I guess you can just go to bed…." 

"No," he said loudly. "Please, no."

I looked at him expectantly. 

"I need my diapers changed, please." 

Both women looked at him and laughed. 

I was having too much fun with this. "Why don't you show us."

Watching my boyfriend pause for a second and then submit was the highlight of this night. He pulled down his pants, revealing the transparent locked plastic pants and an obviously discolored diaper filled to the brim. 

Both women started laughing as I stood up to inspect him. I squished the mess around, patting his packed pampers and laughing at the grimace he was making. 

And then I made my decision. 

"No, you may go to bed. I'll see if I'm in the mood to change you later tonight." 

You see, I had never had any intention of changing him. This was supposed to be a punishment. He'd think twice the next time he tried to use the toilet after I had given him exactly what he wanted. He was the one who told me he wanted to wear diapers in the house. He's the one who agreed to my terms. If he had thought things through, then he wouldn't be in this situation. 

We watched as he waddled across the room and towards the bedroom, his plastic pants squeaking each time he moved, reminding him and all of us, how much of a baby he was. I could have sworn I heard a slight sob as he went into the room and closed the door behind him.

I laughed with the rest of the girls… tomorrow, he needed an enema, he had asked for it after all. 

I smiled, thinking of what was going to come... his diaper fetish was now officially mine. 

To be continued…