Mama Felicity 1844-332-2639 Ext 270

Jay is growing up so fast. It sometimes makes me feel like a crazy woman for how he makes me feel. One moment he’s my sweet, goofy baby, and then the afternoon light hits him just right at soccer practice, and my panties are getting wet.

Normally, he does driving lessons with his Dad because I’m too anxious, but he had just a few hours left to get before he could take his test, and the boy is an excellent beggar, so I agreed.

In the passenger seat, funny things were happening in my body. Jay leaned the seat back and confidently draped his left hand over the wheel. His right hand rested between us on the shifter, and I noticed he had the same bulging veins on the back of his hand, like his father. My tongue traced my teeth with the temptation to trail my finger over the pretty blue lines in my Son’s skin the way I do to his dad when he drives me. I shook my head, trying to shake the weird feelings, but Jay’s confidence and ability behind the wheel were making me so hot.

Continue reading “Driving Lessons For My Teen”

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

Joseph knew the rules about keeping his play area tidy after quiet time, yet the room looked as though a tornado had spontaneously passed through it. As soon as he saw me standing in the doorway, Joseph huddled in the corner with his hands crossed over his thick, crinkly diaper. It appeared as if he was trying to summon a look of false indifference, but we both knew he couldn’t fool Mama Cory.

Disciplinarian was never a role that I enjoyed, but it was an essential tether to the boundaries that kept Joseph and my other ABDL’s feeling safe and structured within their sessions. As I knelt down to his level, I could see his pulse in his throat, which was a clear indication that the initial bravado of his rebellion was rapidly fading into the realization of the consequences that were about to inevitably follow his actions.

Continue reading “Joseph knew the rules”

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

I stared down at my “big” boy, Julian. He was currently standing in the middle of the living room with his knees knocked together. It was painfully obvious that the heavy, rhythmic sloshing sound emanating from his midsection was the result of a very successful, very immediate, and very leaky accident.

“Well, Julian,” I said, suppressing a giggle, “it seems we have a problem, huh?” He shuffled toward the nursery as his puffy diaper sagged with each step. I followed close behind, armed with a mountainous stack of wipes and a fresh, dry pampers. The squelching noise he made with every step sounded like he was walking through a swamp. I suppose that, technically, he was.

Continue reading ““big boy” wet his pampers”

Seducing My Son

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.”

Continue reading “that unmistakable stench almost ruined the Easter egg hunt”

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.

Continue reading “Flickering lights”

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

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).

Continue reading “Chris Crinkle”