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This a set of commissions regarding an abdl girl, actually more specifically an "abdl slave" girl named Kimmy, since the leitmotiv of the set is referred on how her cruel Mistress submit her to many disconforting situations through hard restrains, forced diaper wetting and messing and electric stimulations (this last subject is not of my personal preference, quite extreme for me, but I always try to respond to the client demands with my best effort).
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[This story contains wetting, bullying, cartoon underwear, diapering and forced regression] [Also pictures (male)] Another friday night where dreams go to die in this small town supermarket. For Sam, it was the first shift of a long week-end. Always trying to act professionnal, he took his job with a serious incline. After a quick break halfway through his shift, he walked past the check-out registers where younger cashiers and the night manager made most of the staff on the clock. Coming back in, he took a moment to examine the surroundings. A few people paying for groceries, the baggers and cashiers talking to each others while ringing produces, and the manager on look-out for anything to happen. The older woman always had a bitter and nasty attitude with pretty much anyone working at the store. She would scold anybody for the smallest mistake, and make her authority fierce among her younger piers. Sam took too long watching, catching a glimpse of her watch. Hey you! Stop standing there! Go back to work kid! She exclaimed. Although Sam was nearly twenty years old at that point, he found himself listening and being kind of intimidated by this elder. Making a sorry expression, he returned to his tasks on the store main floor. For the next few minutes, he put out stocks onto the shelves while helping customers with their questions around the store until someone called over the store intercom system. It was a young and fragile voice on the speaker. A store clerk is needed at the registers for a price check please. Sam walked to the front of the house, thinking about the girl who just called for help on the intercom. As he got there, he smiled at the young blonde girl waiting with an old lady. Losing himself in her deep blue eyes, he found himself having to make her repeat her question about the deal on a produce. He nervously laughed it off and gave her the correct info before leaving back into the aisles, thinking about her cute smile. He didn't even get to go back to his tasks that the intercom system called once again for help. This time however it was the store manager speaking. A store clerk is needed on the phone system, call extension 1 Going to the backstore to get the store phone, Sam called back to speak with the manager about her request and the situation. Yes? How can I help? He asked. Look Sam, we got a young suspect on aisle 7, I think he's shoplifting. She said. Okay, don't the manager or security usually take care of thieves? He inquired. I'm busy. And you know there's no security here, it's too expensive for the store to have. Okay, well for legal reasons I don't think... He didn't have time to finish his sentence. Listen kid, I'm not asking to arrest anyone. Just follow them around, and check them out. I'll wait for them at the front of the store and you'll give me a sign if they stole something okay? Bye. She quickly hung up the line. Sam couldn't believe his luck. He didn't want to get into an altercation with a thief. He could feel his adrenaline rising already as he took a few steps back into the store. Walking while being vigilant of his surroundings, he made his way to the seventh aisle like asked. When he got the edge of the produce hallway, he found himself alone with a teen in the middle of the aisle. The fact that the suspected thief was younger than him gave him a nice confidence boost. He told himself he could easily take care of this situation. Walking toward his opponent, he kept looking at him and scanning the scene. Did he look suspicious, did it seem like he could have something stolen inside his hoodie? He was about to find out for sure. Stopping next to him, while waiting and making the suspense growing between them, he looked with side-eyes at his junior. Hello, can I help you with something today? Sam asked. Nope. The guy answered. Are you sure? He asked again. Nah, what are you looking anyways, loser? The punk mocked. Walking away from Sam, he extended his arm to make all the boxes of crackers on the shelf fall onto the floor. The clerk hurried to grab them off the ground, while cursing the kid under his breath trying to keep his composure. The thief laughed at him and took a second to admire the power he had over the retail store employee. His snickering continued as he looked at the crouched Sam, who turned his back at him. Maybe he forgot his belt that day, he thought. As in plain view the waistband of Sam's underwear was visible. A vibrant red waistband with white cotton underneath, like a pair of tighty whities. Feeling victorious over him, the punk chuckled once again and turned his back on Sam while taunting him one last time. Good dog! That's right pick it all back up. Nice undies by the way, Dork! He mocked. What's your problem man! Told back an irate Sam, losing his cool. Listen, you better tend to your job before you get hurt nerd. The punk threatened. Or what? Do you need an attitude adjustment? Sam responded, with half-confidence. The guy shrugged and continued walking away, while the frustrated clerk stood with cracker boxes in his hands. After a few steps, Sam told himself : Fuck it. I'm stopping him right now. Approaching the thief with conviction, he ran up to him and put his hand on his shoulder. While the guy turned around he only found the time to exclaim an «Hey!» that the punk decided to act before him. With a swift motion, he turned around with lightning speed and grabbed both side of Sam's waist, putting his hands around his pants. Tugging in one fell swoop down, Sam's pants found themselves at his ankles. Expecting a punch, the clerk remained frozen for a fraction of a second before realizing the punk was in awe of him, right before exploding of laughter. He found himself face to face with his previous suspicion. He knew that kind of undies, he saw them before... or even maybe had a pair before... a long time ago. The white brief with red trimmings, in the style of an underoos, pranced the cartoon character of the Cars movies series. As Sam turned the same shade of red as the drawing on his butt, he tried to fight off the robber now mocking him and tugging on his briefs. As the cute cashier came up to check on the ruckus, Sam became desperate to fight off the punk and put his pants back on. The kid having the time of his life, put his foot between Sam's feet thus pressing and blocking his pants from coming back up. While the clerk struggled to push off his attacker, his junior tugged on his undie, spanked him playfully and commented on his choice of attire. Hey girl you seeing this? This loser still wears kiddie undies! Who bought you these, mommy? Catching the snickering sight of his crush at his expense, Sam exploded with rage and power. First with all his strength and might, he grabbed his pants from the backside and lifted them back up while pushing off the kid. In his mind, the guy would flip like a pancake and find himself on his back giving him enough time to put his pants back on and jump on him... … but in reality the punk saw him wind up like a enraged bull and took his foot off as soon as the motion began from Sam's side. The clerk exploded with a swift movement, lifting his pants halfway before tackling the shelf in front of him. Making a massive mess of the structure upon him, Sam stumbled back concussed and dizzy. Waddling back with his pants at knees height, he babbled something while the thief laughed and the cashier gasped in shock. Waddling, the front side of his white cotton brief began seeing some shades of golden liquid appear and dampen the fabric. Before a few more drips could come out, it transformed in a matter of seconds into a full stream of urine completely wetting the underwear. Not even reacting to it, Sam's head spun. The backside of the briefs quickly absorbed the wetness growing back up his bosom while the hissing and sound of pouring liquid on his pants and floor filled the aisle. Before long the white fabric turned a yellowish transparent kind of cotton, lightly exposing Sam's butt and small privates. Before the thief could add to the humiliation, the clerk found himself stepping back and slipping on his own pee puddle. Comically skating on pee, he lost his balance after a few moment and fell on his ass looking at the celling lights with stars around his head. After the punk ran off, the cashier ran up to Sam still knocked out to help him out. In his confused state, he looked up to her mumbling. She tried to understand his words, but he was so far out that it didn't make much sense. He continued grabbing her hand while trying to communicate. Don't go... Help me... I love you... He unintelligibly spat out. She still looked confused and worried at his situation, not responding to Sam's rambling. She kept looking back and forth to his accident though, awkwardly staring for few seconds to his wet underpants before giving an equally awkward reassuring smile. She suddenly disappeared, getting almost dragged off. In her place, the store manager furiously looking down at poor Sam. Just in time for him to come back to his sense. You are in so much trouble kid! What did you do!?! She screamed. I... I tried...He tried to explain, still babbling. You immature child! You assault a customer and manage to get us robbed! She accused. But... But I... He couldn't answer. You know what, you aren't even a kid! That's too mature for you! You can't answer for yourself, you can't act responsibly and you can't even control your bladder! That's it! She screamed. But... I...He still couldn't answer the manager, frozen with shame and confusion. She grabbed him first by the ear, like an old school teacher making him stand and scream in pain, before grabbing him and pulling him by the hand to the next aisle. At this point, most of the clientele and the other employees stopped everything to watch Sam's punishment. Going to the next aisle, the poor clerk struggled to walk with his pants loose and wet. He panicked when he realized the manager's plan. She stopped him and pushed him off before a shelf. His heart sank and he whimpered while turning back at her and asking her. You're... kidding... really? He muttered. You are a baby, and babies need diapers. There you go! Chose one! She told him. Wha... what do you mean chose one? He asked shocked. Chose one! I'll give you this one favour. You don't want me to choose for you, do you? She asked back with a stern warning. I mean... I never wore one... Which... Umm... He stalled for time, looking nervously. Come on baby, we don't have all night! Ten seconds! She screamed. Umm... Umm... I... He couldn't choose or concentrate at the audible countdown. Okay that's it mister. You don't want to choose, I'll chose alright. She exclaimed. No wait..! He couldn't fight back the manager, who without batting an eye at the shelves of baby diapers grabbed him. In a motion, she snatched his hand back, pulled him and picked a pack of Cars Pullups in the biggest size available for sale. Walking with him waddling behind, they found themselves past the look of pretty much everyone present on the scene. Some of them perplexed, others laughing and even a couple putting out their phones to film the strange situation. Bringing him to the front of the store, she stopped at the first cash register and turned him around. Quickly guiding him, she grabbed Sam and sat him on the bagging area. He looked at the others with a plea to help him, but couldn't mutter another word. She tapped his thigh, waiting for him to move. Come on, legs up! I've done this a thousand times, it wont be long! She said. Sam closed his eyes in shame as he felt the cold metallic table under him touch his butt, as his pants and undies were removed. He squirmed as laughs and snickers grew, when he got exposed. You won't need those anymore. She said, while throwing them in a trash can. The manager did not lie. In a succession of mechanical movement, he heard the diaper package being opened, then one being taken out of said packaging. His butt then got lifted from the table, while a cold and soothing smell filled the air. She quickly spread and tapped his privates and ass with baby powder before putting both his feet through the diaper leg holes. As the protective underwear tightly arose from his ankles to his waist, Sam felt a shiver followed by an immediate comfort from inside his body. All done, get up! She ordered. As he followed instruction, snickers waited as he awkwardly stood up with a pouty face. Evading the looks of everyone, he felt the manager's hand on his shoulder. Her stern face watching him. Now, now. Don't you start crying here! It's over. Look at your former coworkers and say sorry. I'm... I'm sorry... He muttered with a shy voice. No, no, no! I said look at them and apologize you fussy baby! She ordered again. At that moment, Sam took all the energy left in him and faced the music. Lifting up his view, he had a look at his red diaper even more themed to the movie character than his embarrassing briefs. His sight then stopped at the level of his colleagues, especially at the deep blue eyes of a mortified cashier, who's probably as confused as him. He took a breath in. I'm sowwy guys... Umm... I mean, I'm sorry to embarrass myself like that... Turning red, Sam turned around and power walked out the store in his diapered butt. The End. Thank you for reading. This story came to me a couple of years ago, I didn't know exactly how it would end up, but after trying to draw or shop it, I just acted it I guess... So as a bonus, an unfinished edit of it...
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Road Warrior Bloodhound Apex Legends Omorashi
lavenderrot posted a gallery image in Omorashi Artwork
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From the album: OmutsuSama´s Omorashi/ABDL Art
Which of these three doors you think your worth to enter? Enjoy it!© By OmutsuSama
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View File need a babysitter?(94) 10 babysitters to start a new folder Submitter robster67 Submitted 08/12/2023 Category Female
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View File who put u in sissy diapers(88) who put u in sissy diapers your student/your stepmummy/your wife/your sitter? Submitter robster67 Submitted 08/02/2023 Category Male
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- sissy dress
- sissification
- public humiliation
- forced messing
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- diaper sagging
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View File marshmellows in the woods(2) if you go down to the woods today do not take this mistress with u or you might be in 4 a big suprise Submitter robster67 Submitted 07/22/2023 Category Other AB/DL Messing
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🦊 Isle of Foxes By Horatio Husky Commissioned by ArtMckinley Part One ”Island” Janet Parker kept her breathing steady, and her sights up. Disembarking from the rowboat after having crossed part of the East China Sea, the young anthropologist’s arms had shook even as she hauled the boat ashore. Still, after having furtively glanced around the deserted shoreline, she confirmed that she had managed to arrive undetected. Shouldering her backpack and hefting her emergency supplies kit out of the boat, she had half carried, half dragged her supplies to the jungle’s edge and hoisted her baggage into a small nestling of exposed rock. There, she would set up her camp. No fire or open forest floor plan for Janet, however. The mission she was attempting to undertake required utmost discretion, for not only was she going to have to camouflage her encampment as best as she could, but the boat would also have to be hauled further onto the island and hidden with brush. Still, Janet figured, she had some time yet. Carefully unpacking some of her supplies, she laid out the spokes and tarp that would make up her tent. Patterned the same lush hues of green as the surrounding underbrush, the anthropologist internally crossed her fingers that she would remain undetected. As she began to erect the tent, moving the expanding metal rods and tough, industrial string through the various pores of the tarp, her mind wandered back to the grueling process that had led her to the island she had been fascinated with since childhood. Maps of ‘Okidaitōjima’ had covered the walls in her bedroom ever since she was twelve. Previously known as ‘Rasa Island’ but also known as ‘Abreojos’ by its Spanish discoverer Bernardo de la Torre, who had become all too familiar with its perilously shallow surrounding shores, it was not the geography or its history that fascinated Janet. For thousands of years, the Japanese islanders who inhabited the Okinawa Islands held the island as sacred and forbidden to set foot upon. Untouched by humanity for hundreds of years, the island was rumored to be home to the only known species of intelligent, anthropomorphic foxes. Only recently had satellite imagery confirmed that the island was, in fact, inhabited. Changes in the island’s landscape and blurry images supplied by the satellite’s imagery suggested that there was indeed a primitive presence on the island. Janet still remembered the moment she had first viewed the low resolution pictures of erected watch towers and small huts, covered in leafy green vines and appearing almost as if they had been grown out of the forest into a desired shape. She had almost spat out her morning coffee when, unnoticed by her colleagues, a suspiciously orange shape appeared to be perched neatly in one of the towers. She had kept this observation to herself of course. Janet knew that if she founded her request to her university’s funding committee based on what most considered to be Japanese folklore she would be laughed out of the conference room. Persuading the Japanese government to lift the sanctions protecting the island’s shores from visitors of any kind was no easy task either. After several months of back and forth, Janet had opened her office mailbox to the welcome sight of a red envelope addressed to her personally. Inside of it, she was greeted with a letter proudly marked with the logo of the Japanese embassy. Not only had she been granted a researcher’s visa, but she would become the very first civilized human being to study the island’s inhabitants. Janet had gotten her chance, a childhood dream to prove to the world that lateral sentient evolution had occurred in other mammalian species. With any luck, after collecting enough evidence to make her claim undisprovable, she would begin a new career as the world’s first and leading anthropomorphologist. Janet regarded her handiwork, noting with a sense of self-satisfaction that her practice at home had paid off. From afar, the tent she had just constructed appeared indistinguishable from the surrounding jungle flora. In fact, she thought to herself, I’ll have to take careful note of its surrounding landmarks if I’m to find it again… After taking a moment to carefully study her immediate area, noting a particularly mossy boulder only a few feet away from her camp, she turned her gaze over to the metal and plastic watercraft she had arrived in. Its exterior had been painted a dull gray with a motley of military green intermixed with its rather unappealing color scheme. Despite having been designed to match the surrounding jungle, the glossy waterproofing it had been covered with caught the sun in a dazzling reflection. Janet made her way towards the boat, nervously glancing behind her shoulder at the looming watchtowers that just poked over the canopy of the jungle behind her. I really hope they haven’t been looking in this direction for the past hour… Stretching her arms above her head and behind her back as she strode purposefully towards the craft, she limbered herself up in preparation for a grueling haul towards the jungle’s edge. With several undignified grunts of effort and a lot of panting later, Janet was grateful to find that after pulling the boat onto the looser, dryer sand her efforts became significantly less labored. Half an hour later, Janet stood with her arms on her hips as she squinted hard at the boat, which was now concealed under a hefty amount of fallen branches and leaves. Sure… If you look at it long enough you’ll notice something is amiss… But that’s only if you expect to see something out of place. Contenting herself with the thought that after a day or two worth of tropical jungle rainfall the hidden boat would sink more organically into its surroundings, Janet waded through the sand back towards her tent. After a few minutes of anxiously scanning the jungle, her eyes alighted on the boulder she had set as her landmark and soon enough she was crawling inside of her makeshift abode. It was getting late, the sun began to cast the western part of the island with rosier hues, shifting from its lustrous, daytime yellow to a soft, warm red. The inside of her tent was growing darker at a much faster rate than the beach outside, so Janet quickly prepared her evening meal with what little light she had left. She opened one of the bento boxes she had purchased at the harbor, knowing she would have to savor the first few meals on the island as she went through her fresh rations before she would have to resort to eating dried food, and the few canned goods she had brought alone that would have to be consumed cold. Looking up, she took a minute to meditate before she dug in. I actually made it… Too concerned with ensuring that her base of operations was set up quickly and undetected, Janet had not allowed herself a moment to truly let the enormity of where she was impact her fully. She was on ‘the Isle of Foxes,’ the very one that her father had read to her when she was just a little girl. A giddy expression spread across her face as she looked down at her meal, shaking her head in jubilant disbelief. She had done it, years of university with her nose stuck in dusty books followed by a delicate campaign to convince a sovereign nation to allow her to set foot on one of their sacred islands. And she had managed to accomplish it all. Janet Parker did her best to compose herself then, not wanting to let her sense of victory and relief become premature. She still had a job to do, after all. With any luck, she would be able to use the week’s worth of time her limited supplies allowed her to glean enough data from the island’s inhabitants to serve as a milestone for the entire field of anthropology. Reaching forward, the young researcher undid one of the flaps of her tent to reveal the setting sun, gently descending down into the giant ocean pool beneath it. That day’s sunset serving as her evening meal’s entertainment, Janet took her time slowly picking up clumps of rice and pieces of pork dumpling with her chopsticks. The last hints of the sun had just barely disappeared beneath the horizon when she finished. Shrugging off her travel ware, Janet stripped down into her underwear before nestling herself into her sleeping bag. The inside of the tent was a little warm for her comfort, but she knew better than to fall asleep exposed to the elements. The temperature would drop quickly, and she would not have her dream field expedition burdened by a head cold. Janet allowed her eyelids to grow heavy, taking in slow, deep breaths as she calmed herself down to further expedite the onset of sleep. It was difficult at first, her mind was a whirl with the following day’s duties and plans. But eventually, she found herself nodding off, the muffled sounds of jungle insects and nightlife creeping into her dreams as she dozed off into a tired, deep slumber. ⤐ ⬷ Janet crept through the jungle foliage at a crouch. Every dozen steps or so, she would glance around furtively in the canopy above before slowly standing up to locate the beaten path she was trailing. The explorer had to take care to not walk on any of the jungle paths, as the likelihood of discovery by one of the island’s inhabitants taking the same path was too much to risk. This made the going very slow, as Janet had to take time to not only maneuver around obstacles such as gnarled roots or dense vegetation, but she had to do so without making too much noise or damaging the plants. This proved more challenging than she had originally anticipated, and sweat beaded her brow as the morning slowly shifted into afternoon, the island’s temperature rising as the sun continued to bombard it with summer’s radiation. As she ventured through, Janet’s eyes alighted on the various dried grass and wooden effigies that stood erected in the trees above, or swinging gently from a motley of vines like marionette puppets. Janet keenly noted that each of the wooden figurines appeared each to sport a distinct set of pointed ears at the top of their heads. This fact alone restirred the excitement of the butterflies inside of Janet’s stomach. Still, despite the discomfort and slow traversing, Janet knew she was making progress. Her nostrils had caught a whiff of smoke, telling her that she must be getting closer to the primitive encampment. The smell of cooked fish and a strange, pungent herb had accompanied the woodsmoke. They must be good trappers… There haven’t been any reports of seeing them in the waters… Janet reflected to herself, inching her around an overturned log. Eager to see for herself, the anthropologist stopped as she spotted the back wall of one of the huts about a hundred meters away from her. Walking towards the village on the ground was far too dangerous, and Janet glanced around the surrounding trees as she decided that now would be a perfect time to execute phase two of her covert observation plan. She stretched once more, recalling the advice of her acrobatics instructor from her youth as she assessed which tree would be easiest for her to scale. Her gaze settled on a particularly large looking tree, covered in a dense blanket of vines and moss that would serve well for gripholds and traction. With a muffled grunt, Janet grabbed the nearest vine and hoisted herself up, her ankles gripping the leafy rope tightly as she began to ascend. One hand over another, Janet felt the excitement of the ascent course through her, quickly replacing the idle boredom of having to slowly sneak through the tropical forest. Janet reached for the branch above her, her knuckles turning white as her fingers gripped the aged bark enough to support her entire weight. Grabbing onto another part of the same branch with her other hand, she felt her grip loosen as her heart skipped a beat. Bits of decayed bark fell down to the forest floor below as she swayed precariously, holding on with only four of her fingers; the foliage below appeared dangerously far beneath her. She gasped, only just barely stifling the yell of fright that had welled up in her chest as she remembered where she was and what she was doing. Silently, her face contorted into a pained expression of effort and desperation. She swung herself from side to side, before reaching up and grabbing the branch once more with her other hand. To her relief, the wood held, and bit by bit she was able to haul herself up until she kneeled safely on the tree’s rigid bough. Janet took a moment to catch her breath, her chest heaving as her nerves calmed themselves down from the fight or flight response. Trying not to think about the fact that she had almost plummeted to her death, Janet quickly shuffled along the branch and began to make her way slowly through the canopy in the direction of the primitive village. A quarter of an hour later, she had closed the hundred meter distance. The smell of cooking fires and sizzling meat now punctuated the air, causing Janet’s mouth to water. Whatever the island’s inhabitants were cooking up, it smelled delicious. The anthropologist almost regretted having to conduct the research undetected, as she would have loved in that moment to break bread with the cooks of the island. She could now hear muffled voices, remarkably high-pitched for a collection of human primitives. Janet did her best to control her breath, her vision still obstructed by the large hut in front of her. She would have to creep along the branch, and do her best to glean what she could from the leafy canopy above. Janet’s right hand crept slowly into her satchel, ruffling around its contents until her fingers came into contact with the cool metal of her camera. Quietly, she took it out of her bag. She was about to begin a slow, methodical crawl across the tree’s branch when she heard the distinct sound of rustling leaves to her left. Before she could react, a voice that sounded like a squeaky child’s inquiry almost caused her to fall out of the tree in surprise. Janet’s head whipped around towards the source of the voice. Her jaw dropped open, her eyes growing wide as she beheld the sight in front of her. Standing on two paws at roughly a meter in height, with a blood orange colored fur coat, was a fox.
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From the album: kusirotta’s diaper art 🙈🍑💦
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From the album: kusirotta’s diaper art 🙈🍑💦
© kusirotta
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From the album: kusirotta’s diaper art 🙈🍑💦
© kusirotta
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My Agonizing Journey to Babyhood – 20 By: Heather23 Edited by: DaddyRich Chapter 20 - Baby Kim's day at the zoo It had now been two full days as Chris's baby. My routine was drinking from a bottle, being spoon-fed baby food, sleeping, playing in my playpen, watching cartoons, and of course wetting and occasionally messing my diapers. I was surprised when Chris announced that he was going to take me to the zoo today. How would he manage that and how embarrassing was this going to be for both of us. After all, I didn't think a dentist would want to be seen in public with his wife acting like a baby. I knew I didn't want to crawl around the zoo in a diaper. Chris dressed me in diapers (of course) and plastic baby pants. He removed the bondage mittens and that felt nice. He then put me in the bib styled overalls we had purchased from Nicole. These looked fairly normal except that there were snaps at the crotch and down the insides of the legs to make diaper changes easier. I couldn't ask questions with the mouth guard still in place, so I went with the flow. I rode to the zoo in my car seat and Chris had me wait in the car while he purchased the zoo tickets. He returned to the car pushing a large stroller. This was the kind of stroller that one could rent and used to push a handicapped person around the zoo. So that is what Chris had in mind I thought. Chris helped me into the large stroller. There was a safety strap that was pulled around my waist and fastened somewhere at the back of the stroller. My first realization was that I would not be able to reach the release mechanism on the strap. This was not a surprise knowing Chris and his love of keeping me bound. I kept my legs together in the stroller so that no one could see the snaps on my jeans. Also, since I was in a sitting position, no one could really tell that I was wearing a thick diaper between my legs. I felt better that my secret would be safe, and I relaxed. There was a benefit to being in the stroller. I didn't have to walk, and we were allowed to go to the front of lines because I was "handicapped." (I think the politically correct way of saying it is Diaper-Challenged.") Chris bought me drinks constantly, and I knew by now it was to keep me wet and needing diaper changes. Since we were out in public, Chris let me drink from a straw. I still didn't think that the mouth guard would let me drink out of a cup, so I was glad the straw worked fine. It didn't take me long to have to pee. After several days of baby status, it was almost natural to just release my pee into my waiting diaper. I know I can never get totally used to wetting a diaper and that is fine with me. It is especially difficult for me to wet in public, but it was also a nice secret that Chris and I shared. Typically, I would let Chris know when I was wetting so that he could hold me tight while I peed, but in the stroller this was not really possible. I waited to pee until we were in a crowded place to add to the excitement of having people all around me. Since I was unable to talk, I pointed to my crotch so that Chris could share in my wetting experience. It was wonderful. I sat back and just let it flow. There was little embarrassment this time because no one around me had any idea I was wetting myself. Chris grabbed my hand as I continued to fill my diaper. I could have come with very little effort if my private area could have received any attention at all. That was not to happen in public, and it had now been days with no sex. I was dying, and I knew Chris probably was ready to jump my bones too. Chris wheeled me over to a family restroom that allowed just one person or couple at a time. He was able to wheel my stroller right in the restroom, and he locked the door for privacy. I thought this would be a typical diaper change, but nothing is typical with Chris. This time when he opened my little protective chastity heart to clean me up, he showed me two plastic vibrating eggs and proceeded to bury them deep within my pussy. He then closed the little cage door protecting my pussy and snapped the lock shut. These particular eggs didn't have any wires, but I was sure they must be some kind of vibrator. I was both excited and intrigued. "Kim, I want to share in your next diaper wetting." "In fact, I want to trigger your next wet diaper." "When I think you have had enough to drink, I will set the eggs in motion with this remote control." "I don't want you to pee until you feel the vibrations." "If I check your diaper, and you are wet, and I haven't set off the vibrating eggs, you will be severely punished." "Don't test me on this one." I could only respond with a nod of my head and did so. Wow, vibrating eggs in my pussy, and they are operated by remote control! Today was a much better day. Chris continued to serve me large drinks. I drank them with the anticipation of feeling the vibrating eggs humming deep within my most intimate area. It didn't take any time at all for my need to pee hit a peak. I motioned to Chris that I had to pee. He ignored me. Could I hold out for the vibrating signal, or would I be punished for peeing? I was squirming in the stroller. It got so bad that I put my hand in my crotch and tried to hold back the flow. The chastity heart kept my hand from having any real impact. I was swaying back and forth in agony. Finally, the most delightful feeling in the world swept over me. The eggs began to vibrate inside my pussy. I couldn't have imagined a better feeling. I don't know what felt better at first. The fact that I was finally allowed to wet myself and relieve the pressure in my bladder or the eggs dancing inside my pussy. My only hope was that Chris wouldn't turn off the vibrating eggs too soon. I didn't realize how I must have looked nor did I care, but I was moaning in sure delight. My diaper was filling and the sensations coming from deep inside me were incredible. It is probably lucky that I was wearing a mouth guard because I practically screamed when my orgasm hit me. Wave after wave of orgasms ripped through me. I was left totally exhausted. I wanted to thank Chris so much, but was unable to do so. I knew the next time we went to the family restroom I could show him my appreciation. That time came almost immediately as I was wheeled to the restroom. In the privacy of the locked restroom, I was able to get down on my knees while Chris traded places momentarily and sat in the stroller. I unzipped his jeans and gave him a blow job. I couldn't use my tongue trapped as it was, but Chris was able to stick his cock deep into my throat. I tried something new on Chris and stuck my wet finger in his bum while I sucked on his erect cock. He squirmed up and down on my finger, so he was obviously enjoying the sensation. He must have really liked it because his load shot into my mouth with such force, and he cried out like I had never heard him do before. Wow, what an incredible day. Before I got off my knees, Chris stood up and looked me in my eyes. "Kim, the week is up." "You have finished your regression therapy." "I am going to take you home, remove your mouth guard, remove your chastity "friend" and you will be free to go about your normal activities." My disappointment must have been all over my face. Chris picked up on my frown and said, "You know Kim, we still have all the baby gear." "If I feel a need to discipline you again, count on some sort of regression therapy to help bring you back to being my submissive wife." I will not be removing the silver pacifier that is dangling between your legs. And of course, the two tattoos of the diaper pins are permanently on your body. These will be a constant reminder that you are my diaper slave. I want you to always wonder each time you take a drink, if your next pee will be in a toilet or if you will be forced to release your pee into a waiting diaper. As my diaper slave, you will never know when the next diaper will be taped or pinned on you. I wrapped my arms around his legs and kissed his penis in appreciation. Once again Chris triggered the vibrating eggs buried deep inside me, and he helped me back into the stroller. It was going to be an interesting ride home. The End
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- adult diaper
- wetting while sitting
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From the album: OmutsuSama´s Omorashi/ABDL Art
Wanna try a craft beer, or perhaps a warm baby bottle? We have happy hour!-
- adult diaper
- ageplay
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The story starts on a pleasant spring day as Jenny and a few of her friends (Laura, Cathi, Rachel) were on their way to a Goa dance festival. The festival lasted from Friday night until Sunday, and there was spacing for camping, dancing, hanging, and parking. Jenny was blonde and about 5'3" and 24 years old, she was a nurse but liked to go out to parties with her friends on weekends. On this particular weekend, she had rushed to get ready after getting out of work late and managed to bring a spare shirt, a toothbrush, and 2 pairs of socks before literally running out of her door to get into Laura's car for the journey. As the drive began, Jenny realized she had forgotten to go to the bathroom, she had also forgotten to even bring a spare pair of pants or panties. She realized immediately this was a mistake, because especially when she took drugs: she tended to impulsively pee her pants when had to go and felt relaxed. She was luckily wearing a pair of cyan-green Goa pants, so she figured most accidents would just wet her panties and run down her legs: it could be worse. As they arrived at the parking spaced, Jenny was very already desperate when they arrived, and when they had stopped the car she jumped out along with Laura. Jenny asked Laura, " Where are the bathrooms here?" to which Laura replied, "There"s a single porta-potty and I am definitely going first, you usually end up with wet pants anyways so if you wet yourself no biggie: but I have appearences to maintain." Jenny was slightly taken aback, replied "You won't get that without a fight unless you bribe me: go any molly?" Laura nodded and pulled out a tube with slightly opaque small white crystals, and took a very small one and gave it to Jenny. Jenny broke it into a fine powder to better guess its weight, and took what she thought to be about 75mg, about 1.2mg/kg. Although this is still a reasonable dose, it increased her heartrate directly and a warm relaxing feeling flowed through her within 10 minutes of putting it under her tongue. It was around this time that she noticed she had begun to pee herself, and that Laura had already left the porta-potty and let someone in while starting and laughing at Jenny peeing in her wafty Goa pants. Jenny snapped back reality and was both excited and kind of horny, very aware of her wet crotch. She pulled herself together and stopped peeing, her pants wet around her crotch and down her left leg, and her underwear completely soaked. She tried to take the next place in line again, but was stopped by a henna redhead named Tania. Tania said "No, you go to the back of the line, besides you already peed, everyone can tell" and laughed at her. Jenny was not amused, and sternly told Tania "Yes, I already peed myself, but I like to see if the rest can't end up outside of my pants, can I please go in front of you? I really need to go still..." To which Tania laughed loudly and said "only if you pee your pants for 10 seconds while crouching on the ground in front of everyone in the line" smiling widely. Jenny turned red but secretly loved the idea, she reluctantly agreed, crouched down, and began to pee through her panties and baggy pants as the small line snickered. Tania then went to the side and let her stand first in line, quickly snapping a picture of Jenny's wet butt to show her friends later. As Jenny finally got to pull down her wet pants and panties and piss normally, she was determined to get back to Tania before the weekend was done, but first she would need to dance the piss out of her pants, so she returned with a big smile to her friends and they all went together to the dance floor. To be continued....
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From the album: Here4theFun's Digital Art
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- panties
- humiliation
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This story is based on ideas suggested by Downjacket. It is about an American Silicon Valley billionaire, a young beautiful Russian gold-digger, a technology event at a high-end mountain ski-resort, a desperation situation that gradually develops, and circumstances that eventually end in public humiliation. Warning: The story is very long and detailed, and builds up slowly. I had to build up the gold-digger's lavish world first, in order for the eventual humiliation to be more effective. Here is the link: https://omorashistorieslexi.blogspot.com/2021/05/the-unravelling-of-american-dream.html?m=1&zx=88e8d470fcd83082
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- humiliation
- messing
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Does anyone know the source of this video? Also, SHE’S HOT! IMG_6876.MOV
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- adult diaper
- carseat wetting
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A/N: Written for Kinktober Day 9: Humiliation, this one of those mean spirited public humiliation fics because yeah. Today has gone on for too long. Lumine can say that with absolute certainty, and though she is willing to do whatever she needs to for the people of Mondstadt under normal circumstances, there comes a point when hours and hours of uninterrupted work becomes too much for her. She gets tired of being everyone’s hero, even when she loves it, because she has her limits. True, she does not grow so tired that she can’t handle it, at least not often, but there is more to it than that. Lumine has had to pee for hours, and if she does not take a break soon, she is certain that she is going to lose her mind, the pain more than she can handle at this point. She is so full that she is sure, if she were to take her dress off now, that she would be bulging slightly, her bladder pushed far beyond what it is meant to contain. But all of that is going to come to an end soon, just as long as she is able to make it to a bathroom. Not “as long as,” but when she is able to make it to a bathroom. She refuses to let herself consider the possibility that she might not make it, even if it is getting harder to keep her composure as she walks. Lumine has her fists clenched at her sides, making sure that she does not walk so quickly that she leaks- anymore than she already has, but she is also trying not to think about that- but still quickly enough to make progress. Is her stiff walk enough to get attention? She certainly hopes not, but at the same time, it’s very hard for her to avoid such attention just by being out and about. That’s what got her into this mess in the first place; people always find her, and are never shy about asking her for help. For the most part, she’s glad to have that sort of reputation, but right now, she would rather be anywhere but here. How many hours has it been? It’s late afternoon, perhaps early evening, and the last time she relieved herself was early in the morning. She is not sure when the need first began to make itself known, but it was definitely a few hours ago at least. Though she has not let herself count how many times she has leaked, she already knows that her panties are damp, and can imagine just how sizable the wet spot on them must be. Each step she takes gets her closer to her relief, but it also pushes her closer to losing control, and brings her further into the center of town, where anyone might be able to figure out what’s wrong with her. From time to time, she has to stop, just to squeeze her thighs together, toes curling in her shoes. She stares at the ground, clenching her fists tighter, refusing to look up and see if anyone is staring at her. If she lets herself get carried away, she is certain she can hear some hushed whispers, but she can’t think about that now either. She can only think about moving forward, and tells herself that it does not matter if a few people can tell that she needs to pee now, just as long as that is as far as it goes. Not much further now, but every step gets her a bigger audience, once she is able to move forward again. Things are really bustling right now, and the city is crowded, just like it always is, and Lumine has had to pee for hours and hours, and really can’t take another second of this. Her bladder has never been so full in all her life, the ache enough to make her want to cry. What she wouldn’t give to just be able to let it all out already… As if tempted by her thoughts, another leak slips out, and she blinks back tears. The leaks are getting stronger now, soaking into her bloomers, her panties already past saving. Another powerful spurt sees a thin dribble of piss running down the inside of her thigh, possibly visible to someone close enough. She’s basically already pissing herself, just barely stopping it every time it starts up again, but any of the nearest bathrooms are still so faraway, and she… She isn’t going to make it. Lumine tries to the very end, fighting her aching bladder, but she can’t do it anymore. Even knowing that, she still keeps up her futile fight, jamming a hand between her legs, as if holding herself like a little girl is going to help with anything other than getting her even more attention. She doesn’t have to look to be able to feel the eyes on her, and her hand quickly grows damp as she tries to hold back leak after leak. She keeps her hand clamped tight over her pussy, for all the good it does, hiking her skirt up so much in the process that she can tell she’s being leered at by a few. Now, she can hear the whispers as people catch onto what is happening with her, some voices sounding more sympathetic than others. There is muffled laughter, and one voice cuts in a bit louder, a child pointing out what’s happening, too young and oblivious to go at this with any sort of tact. “Look, she’s gonna pee!” It’s been hours and she has pushed her bladder beyond her natural limits. The bathroom is still too far away, and though she is in the center of town, though all eyes are on her, though she has spent all day being everyone’s hero, she can’t hold it anymore. She is forced to stop as another spurt escapes her, but then, she isn’t just leaking anymore. It all comes gushing out of her, soaking her hand so quickly she can't move it away in time. By the time she thinks to move it, it’s already soaked, and she realizes her skirt is going to fall and get wet as well. Lumine is far past the point of thinking rationally, panicking as she holds her skirt up. Everyone can see the way her knees knock together and her bloomers continue to darken, as her piss just pours out of her. There's whispers of sympathy and there's leering. The child who pointed her out before asks their mom why she didn't know better. There is muffled laughter from several directions, as a puddle grows at her feet, and as Lumine’s face burns with humiliation like she has never felt before. She worked hard all day, pushing her bladder to the breaking point. She was everyone's hero; now she's just the poor, pathetic girl who can't hold her piss. When she is finally empty, her bladder still aching from how much she had to hold, the relief so great and the humiliation even greater, she doesn’t know what else to do but start walking again. If she listens, she can still hear people whispering amongst themselves about what she has done, and she knows she will likely never live this down. All she can do is keep walking, to move out of the public eye so she can go clean up. She doesn't want her skirt to get wet so she keeps it hiked up as she walks back, letting everyone she passes see her pee soaked bloomers, letting everyone see her "little accident". Word was going to spread either way, so she no longer sees any point in trying to preserve her dignity. By the time she's back, her piss has gone cold, but her panties are all warm and sticky as she peels them off. She doesn't know what the hell is wrong with her, that she barely has to touch herself at all, and yet has never come so hard in all her life. - If you're interested in my writing updates, please join my discord server! https://discord.gg/xUrPXDH I stream here, and the chat is locked when there isn't a stream going on, so for the most part, it's only posts that are updates from me
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- moderate wetting
- bloomers
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first thing i thought about is esports omorashi at a fricking lan = public humiliation (bonus round! add the crowd, heaps of people laughing and yeah that scores you alot of public humiliation points) take your favorite youtubers and then.. you see where this is going? OMORASHI (bonus round again! put their friends near them for extra humilation points) I took this from coolcompy1134 when I saw the stuff he posted then add desperation, accidental and them getting progressively more nervous, thats a chemical reaction!
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From the album: Here4theFun's Digital Art
Poor June lost a bet and now must endure some public humiliation. Don't be taken aback by her protests deep down she loves these kind of situations.-
- panties
- humiliation
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From the album: Here4theFun's Digital Art
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- panties
- humiliation
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If you have ideas or a desire to see any character - write here If i like the idea i will definitely draw it. This is my first topic, I hope you can help me and take part in this
- 62 replies
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- humiliation
- pee drinking
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