“Today is the day where we put your package exactly where it belongs… inside this nice thick diaper! I have had enough of watching you do the potty dance and then freezing as you send a mass of wetness down your legs like a little boy. Do you know how embarrassing it is being married to a wimpy little pants pisser like you? I can see your lower lip quivering; don’t you even think about crying right now. If you have to wet yourself like a baby, then it’s only fitting that you wear an adult version of baby’s underwear. So from now on you can let your diaper do the holding since you’re not man enough to. Now drop your pants because this is going on you right now”
I couldn’t blame her. She definitely wasn’t overreacting; she wasn’t being a raging psychotic dommy-”mommy” bitch. After all, it wasn’t as though I’d just wet myself once, or even only twice. Or even once in a three-month period. Or sixth-month period.
No. It was all the damned time. Multiple times in a week, or even within a single day, sometimes.
I’ve been to every urologist in the tri-state area, but I’m a medical mystery to each and every one of them; no effective treatment has been found for my extreme bladder control issues. None.
If you can’t control a situation, then the best you can hope to do is to try and contain it. In my case, the application of this universal truth could not possibly be any more literal – the diaper would act as the physical collection containment device to prevent the unrestrained outflow of my shameful smelly sticky wet yellow urine.
Too embarrassed, too prideful, and too deep in denial to admit that I had such an obvious juvenile control problem, I let the problem get out of hand – literally. My wife insisted upon her being the one to diaper me, not trusting me to do it in either a proper or a timely fashion myself.
“Do you know how embarrassing it is being married to a wimpy little pants pisser like you? I can see your lower lip quivering; don’t you even think about crying right now … it’s only fitting that you wear an adult version of baby’s underwear. So from now on you can let your diaper do the holding since you’re not man enough to. Now drop your pants because this is going on you right now”
Our relationship forever changed that fateful day. I was already incontinent, but with her cutting emasculating words and actions I had now lost control of my self-respect, my manhood, and my marriage as well. I was no longer in charge of even my most intimate of private issues. This soon extended to my bedtime, my bath time, my bathing habits, my diet and feeding times, and even what I wore, first to bed and then outside the house as well.
She morphed almost overnight from being my equal partner wife into my all-powerful all-knowing all-encompassing “mommy”. The most intimate contact we now have these days is no longer sex but when she cleans and changes me, or when she bathes me like an infant.
A very young, extremely attractive fitness-buff couple moved in recently just down the block. The nineteen year old drop-dead gorgeous fashion-model wife is extremely non-jealous and open-minded, and she has no problem with her twenty-one year old bull stud Adonis husband servicing my lovely wife, thus giving my wife what I am no longer allowed to provide (and he does it so much better and more frequently than I ever could anyway, as my wife never tires of reminding me).
While he and my wife are getting their rocks off and their freak on, his young wife practices her maternal diapering, feeding, bathing, and dressing skills with me as her practice baby. Thanks to her extreme beauty (I mean hey, as you can see in the above pic my lovely wife is certainly no slouch in the looks department herself, but this sweet young neighbor? – HOLY COW) and thanks to my utter and complete lack of a sexual outlet, this young girl’s attentions & ministrations are as intensely frustrating as they are infantilizing and ego-crushing.
When I finally decided to voice a principled objection to this crazy arrangement, I got “disciplined” (i.e. spanked) by all three of them! So now I am under the watchful eye and authoritative hard hairbrushes (of the women) and the leather belt (of the man). Two mommies and one daddy. Life has become so hard and so complicated. For me, anyway.
“Don’t worry Olivia, I’ll keep your lil brother busy all day while you get rid of all his boy stuff get his nursery set up and his Nanny gets prepared for his return to pampers. We’ll have so much fun I’m gonna give him a great last day of boyhood even though it will be a bit juvenile for an 18 year old. Sad to think this is first ever date and it’s a total set up” Isabella the mischievous alt girl said with a twinkle in her eye.
She was taking Donald, Olivia’s dork younger brother, and supposed now head of the family, who had indeed never had a date to the funfair to keep him out of the way.
While his life as male and an adult was being ended forever.
“One thing when you show him the lovely pink nursery, all the party frocks and he meets his big strict Nanny is it ok if I stick around and watch that? don’t think I’m a bitch or anything but that really turns me on. I guess I have a Sissy crying fit fetish lol.”
Olivia and Donald had a great day at the funfair she even bought the skinny little bitch hot dogs and ice-cream, which she insisted on spoon feeding to him whilst passers by giggled. He’d never have food like this again when he went on an all babyfood and soy formula diet.
She could see that he wouldn’t be much of a challenge for any sissy baby nanny, he shrieked like a frightened bitch on all the rides, got a hopeless score on ‘Ring The Bell’ before Isabella slammed it winning her boy a big pink stuffed bunny rabbit to snuggle at night. He looked really embarrassed carrying the huge stuffed animal, as people snickered.
He was so weak and adorable she even gave him a handy in her car, why not she had ten seconds to spare.
The hopeless Donald there and then told Isabella he loved her.
“Awww Donnie your sweet but we got to get you home your big sister worries about you, little pixie boy! I love you too but not in a boyfriend way”
The new Nanny sure was formidable and the hurt betrayed look on Donald’s face was exhilarating, Isabella knew what she would fap about that night.
He was crying and throwing a tantrum as his new life was laid out and he was shown his all little girl going to a party wardrobe.
Isabella continued to help bitch out boys to pay her college fees but despite her busy lifestyle made the time to attend Baby Rosie’s one year as a little baby girl anniversary party. There was a giant cake with one candle and ‘Legally Incompetent’ iced on it.
Sitting him on her knee as she reminisced about his wonderful last day of boyhood. “You were hopeless as a boy but you a just a peachy bundle of joy as a sissy baby girl, no way would all these popular girls, the jocks, gay guys and basic bitches attended a party you threw back when you thought u were a boy. I’ d love to give you another handy but your Nanny says you are totally limp. We’ll see about that if they let me change your diaper!”
“Today is the day where we put your package exactly where it belongs… inside this nice thick diaper! I have had enough of watching you do the potty dance and then freezing as you send a mass of wetness down your legs like a little boy. Do you know how embarrassing it is being married to a wimpy little pants pisser like you? I can see your lower lip quivering; don’t you even think about crying right now. If you have to wet yourself like a baby, then it’s only fitting that you wear an adult version of baby’s underwear. So from now on you can let your diaper do the holding since you’re not man enough to. Now drop your pants because this is going on you right now”
I couldn’t blame her. She definitely wasn’t overreacting; she wasn’t being a raging psychotic dommy-”mommy” bitch. After all, it wasn’t as though I’d just wet myself once, or even only twice. Or even once in a three-month period. Or sixth-month period.
No. It was all the damned time. Multiple times in a week, or even within a single day, sometimes.
I’ve been to every urologist in the tri-state area, but I’m a medical mystery to each and every one of them; no effective treatment has been found for my extreme bladder control issues. None.
If you can’t control a situation, then the best you can hope to do is to try and contain it. In my case, the application of this universal truth could not possibly be any more literal – the diaper would act as the physical collection containment device to prevent the unrestrained outflow of my shameful smelly sticky wet yellow urine.
Too embarrassed, too prideful, and too deep in denial to admit that I had such an obvious juvenile control problem, I let the problem get out of hand – literally. My wife insisted upon her being the one to diaper me, not trusting me to do it in either a proper or a timely fashion myself.
“Do you know how embarrassing it is being married to a wimpy little pants pisser like you? I can see your lower lip quivering; don’t you even think about crying right now … it’s only fitting that you wear an adult version of baby’s underwear. So from now on you can let your diaper do the holding since you’re not man enough to. Now drop your pants because this is going on you right now”
Our relationship forever changed that fateful day. I was already incontinent, but with her cutting emasculating words and actions I had now lost control of my self-respect, my manhood, and my marriage as well. I was no longer in charge of even my most intimate of private issues. This soon extended to my bedtime, my bath time, my bathing habits, my diet and feeding times, and even what I wore, first to bed and then outside the house as well.
She morphed almost overnight from being my equal partner wife into my all-powerful all-knowing all-encompassing “mommy”. The most intimate contact we now have these days is no longer sex but when she cleans and changes me, or when she bathes me like an infant.
A very young, extremely attractive fitness-buff couple moved in recently just down the block. The nineteen year old drop-dead gorgeous fashion-model wife is extremely non-jealous and open-minded, and she has no problem with her twenty-one year old bull stud Adonis husband servicing my lovely wife, thus giving my wife what I am no longer allowed to provide (and he does it so much better and more frequently than I ever could anyway, as my wife never tires of reminding me).
While he and my wife are getting their rocks off and their freak on, his young wife practices her maternal diapering, feeding, bathing, and dressing skills with me as her practice baby. Thanks to her extreme beauty (I mean hey, as you can see in the above pic my lovely wife is certainly no slouch in the looks department herself, but this sweet young neighbor? – HOLY COW) and thanks to my utter and complete lack of a sexual outlet, this young girl’s attentions & ministrations are as intensely frustrating as they are infantilizing and ego-crushing.
When I finally decided to voice a principled objection to this crazy arrangement, I got “disciplined” (i.e. spanked) by all three of them! So now I am under the watchful eye and authoritative hard hairbrushes (of the women) and the leather belt (of the man). Two mommies and one daddy. Life has become so hard and so complicated. For me, anyway.
Diapered Sassy 
