Category: Mother/son

Seducing My Son

Posted 8 hours ago by Cory

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

“Hey, Mom,” my son announced as he walked into my bedroom. “I wanna know why you’re fucking the neighbor instead of Dad.” He looked at me, smirking, as if he was in full control of the situation. I sat on the bed and cleared my throat. “Honey, your father hasn’t touched me in years. Stay out of it, you don’t know what you’re getting yourself into…” He shook his head and laughed, almost manically. “No, Mom. Tell me WHY…or else, I’ll tell Dad what you did.” I gasped. “Oh no, you won’t!”

He mocked me, suggesting that the only way to keep him silent was to give him a reason not to tattle to his father. So, I did what any respectable mother would do. I seduced him. “How do you know I fucked the neighbor?” I asked, as I unbuttoned the first few inches of my blouse. He looked me straight in the eye and said “I watched.”

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Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

The garden was a kaleidoscope of pastel eggs, yet an unmistakable stench was wafting over the tulips like a mischievous cloud of teen rebellion. “Cory, do you smell that?” Felicity whispered, the same way a detective would whisper about a clue in a noir film. I inhaled deeply, feeling the pungent aroma coil around my nostrils. We both knew that somewhere among the plastic toy eggs hid the source of this olfactory offense.

I never thought an Easter egg hunt could turn into a forensic diaper investigation but there we were. Both Felicity and I were swaddled in our favorite sexy “Mama” dresses and armed with nothing but our noses and an absurdly over‑ambitious sense of duty. We started at the base of the old oak tree and followed the scent trail like a pair of highly trained sleuths. Each step brought us closer to a whiff of something that could only be described as “rotten booty.”

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abdl

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

I had just woken up beside my sweet ABDL Valentine, David. He was already awake. “Mama, Mama, I had a dream!” David exclaimed, as his eyes sparkled with excitement. He was wearing his favorite blue onesie and a snug pampers.

“What was your dream about, baby?” I asked, pulling him closer for a cuddle. “I dreamed that you played with me and made me make cummies in my diaper!” he said. His cheeks flushed with embarrassment almost as soon as he said the words out loud. Still, I could see a hint of hopefulness in his eyes.

Continue reading “Forever Mama’s Valentine” →

potty abdl

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

Kevin hadn’t “pottied” in three days. THREE DAYS. He claimed he was “saving up for a big one.” I didn’t know what that meant at the time, but let’s just say I know now. And I’d rather not discuss it over dinner. When I finally cornered him in the living room, surrounded by crumpled diapers like a hoarder’s confession, he gave me those big eyes and whispered “I wike diapers, Cory.” Try as I might, he really didn’t want to use the potty.

Changing him was always a challenge. Last time, he flopped dramatically onto the changing mat I laid out and whined that the powder irritated his “tushie sensors.” I’m not kidding. Actual phrase. I tried to stay professional, like a diaper-disposal Navy SEAL, but then he giggled and let one rip simultaneously while I had his legs in the air, and I lost it. I mean, I didn’t get angry or anything. Instead, I laughed like a maniac, which only encouraged him to do it again. Sigh.

Continue reading “Kevin hadn’t “pottied” in three days.” →

upside down abdl

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

It started when the power went out. Flickering lights, the fridge groaning, right as I was tucking Benny into his bed. “Mama Cory, was that thunder?” he whispered, wide-eyed, clutching a stuffed waffle toy. I smoothed his hair, adjusted his thick pull-up, and said, “No, baby. Just the flux capacitor acting up again.” I wasn’t sure what I meant, but it sounded sci-fi enough to soothe him.

As the basement lightbulb popped with a suspicious snap, I told my boy to stay put, kissed him on the forehead, and grabbed my glow-in-the-dark taser (which, admittedly, was just a repurposed sex toy). Armed with maternal instinct, I descended the stairs into the dark, humming the theme song to my favorite show as a way to stay focused.

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abdl

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

Davey always had a telltale sign that his cock was getting hard inside of his crinkly, padded diaper. He didn’t even try to hide it. Why would he? I was his muse. “Mama…” he whispered, as his sweet voice trembled on the other end of the phone. “Can we…um, can we have some family fun together? You know how much I love that!”

I tilted my head, playfully feigning thought. “Hmm…are you sure you’ve earned it, Davey?” His eyes widened as I reached for my phone on the nightstand. “Because if you’ve been a good boy for Mommy…” I unlocked it, opened the camera, and propped it on a little stand across from my rocking chair. “Then you can show how Mommy how nicely you edge yourself for her.”

Continue reading “Davey’s Hottest Load” →

Chris Crinkle

Posted 3 months ago by Cory

diaper

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

Chris flopped onto the changing table, as he does, and I very suddenly found myself once again under the thrall of the most exquisite, crinkly symphony known to ABDL Mamas all around the world…the sound of a fresh diaper being unpeeled. It’s not just a sound, mind you; it’s an experience.

To me, it’s like a cross between a thousand candy wrappers conspiring to overthrow the kingdom. As I slotted the diaper beneath Chris’s wriggling bottom, the crinkle echoed in my ears like a church bell rung by a giggling choir of cherubs. Chris, ever the playful menace, squirmed and barked, “Mama, you’re doing it too dramatically!” as if he didn’t know that the sound was a sacred ritual, a sonic lullaby, a sound so pure it could make a grown woman weep (with laughter, of course).

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Spanksgiving

Posted 4 months ago by Amber

spanking

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

This is the story about the origin of Spanksgiving. The kitchen was thick with steam that smelled overwhelmingly of simmering basil and crushed tomatoes. Thanksgiving wasn’t complete without Mommy Anna’s infamous Neapolitan sugo, and Ronnie was slumped over the heavy cast iron pot.

“Don’t stop stirring, Ronnie,” Mommy Anna had warned. “We have company coming and this sugo cannot stick. Keep that heat low and that spoon moving!” I slipped into the kitchen hoping for a leftover cookie, but stopped in my tracks when I saw my brother. “Ronnie, you won’t believe it,” I whispered, leaning close to the stove.

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short dick

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

I adore my boy. He’s the sweetest, most adorable ABDL munchkin you ever did see, all wrapped up in a crinkly diaper. But there’s just one tiny, rather small secret I’ve been keeping under wraps, quite literally. When my fellow Mamas would gather for their notorious “bragging brunches,” regaling us with tales of their boys’ magnificent, awe-inspiring, frankly colossal dick sizes (yes, we do compare), I’d just sip my mimosa and plaster on a smile.

“Oh, my Aiden’s a real handful,” Brenda would gush, “eight glorious inches, and thick as a soda can! Such a big boy!” Meanwhile, my own sweet boy was, well, more of a charming four. A secret that felt as heavy as a lead diaper, even though it was in reality so impossibly light (and small…oh, so very small!).

Continue reading “All Wrapped Up, In More Ways Than One!” →

abdl

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

Alright, sweet pea, let’s get you all fresh and clean,” I cooed. My voice dripped with a syrupy sweetness that would put a pancake house to shame. The moment I’d unsnapped his onesie, the undeniable evidence of my ABDL’s recent ‘accomplishment’ announced itself with a potent, aromatic cloud that could have wilted a plastic plant. I fanned the air dramatically, making a big show of it. “Whoa there, partner! Since when is my special little stinker REALLY a stinker?” I asked, as my eyes watered slightly. I fought back a gag that was equal parts disgust and laughter.

With the practiced efficiency of a seasoned pit crew chief, I gathered my arsenal: a fresh, crinkly diaper adorned with cartoon characters that seemed to mock my current situation, a mountain of wipes that felt chillingly inadequate, and a tub of cream that promised to create a barrier more impenetrable than a bank vault. I took a deep, fortifying breath—through my mouth, obviously—and got to work. The tabs gave way with their familiar ripping sound, a prelude to the grand unveiling. “And now, for the main event,” I whispered, my tone that of a nature documentary host

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