Last night turned out just as I anticipated. Minus the multiple orgasms while I was bathing. Oh lords. I tend to massage myself during a bath. It’s normal for me to cup and caress my small breasts, soft ass, and fuzzy mound as I wash myself. What was out of the ordinary was just how many times my imagination was dragged back to thoughts of extra absorbent padding wrapped securely around my hips. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve explored being the Little/Big world before, but never to this extent. I have proudly called myself Little for about a decade now, but have always staunchly been against “bathroom sports”. I ask myself, why am I now drawn so strongly to using a diaper both willingly and forcefully? I’ve dressed up in pastels and cutesie designs. I’ve sucked on and decorated my share of pacifiers. I’ve kicked my feet and sang silly lullabies while coloring haphazardly in my favorite activity book. I’ve been picked up, slung over a strong shoulder, and had my back pat until all my burps were all out. I’ve dressed in ruffle skirts and twirled until I’ve fallen down. Never did I think I would ever willingly use a diaper. Now I have not only gone down that strangely arousing path, but I’ve also consciously sought out replicating and enhancing the experience.

You see, I’m friends with a princess. I like to call her Principita. I also call her other things when she is being a silly little infant. I think she thinks it’s funny. She is the person who gave me the pull-up! She is little like me, only small small smaller. She’s like me in other ways too, and that makes me feel safe. We're both on our journeys for finding ourselves and keep finding the opposite of what we think we want and need. She let me borrow some books about Little girls in a school. I’ve been reading them and then make me feel very squirmy and small inside. Like I want to be where they are and be treated like I’m too small to do things too. Principita lives in a waffle. I like to go to her home because the walls are coated in sticky sweet syrup that makes me happy to be small. She has one very long dog and one very big dog bed and just about every toy a Little could want to play with! She also has a full changing station, complete with me-sized nappies. When I told her about my excitement for using the first pull-up, and blushingly told her about overflowing the thing, she promptly placed an order for new nappies! She made sure they were in my style, padded enough to hold all I have to offer, and covered in dinosaurs! She let me pick the design and everything!

When I’m not being little and I’m pretending to be an adult, I have a very busy schedule. Because of my busy schedule, I was only able to make a quick visit to Principita’s home when she sent word that my gift had arrived. This whole day I have been anxiously anticipating picking up my prize. My prize for braving my inhibitions and letting go of societal expectations. I was delighted to find she had waited to open the box so I could be the first to see. The seal ripped easily under my hands. I felt my face split in a grin when I opened the top to a set of blue and white dinosaur covered diapers. My excitement only grew when I removed the protective covering and flipped each over to reveal the babified dinosaurs on the fronts. Reminiscent of characters from the land before time, I squealed in delight showing off the little triceratops, pterodactyl, brontosaurus, trex, and duckbill. I felt my smile growing bigger and my laugh growing lighter as I revealed each design. Excitedly, I packed the diapers back into their box, shared some small updates on my art, and headed off for the rest of my evening. I am a busy man after all.

I’m out of the way of my home, so I don’t bother dropping my new package off before I begin my evening. It follows me the whole night, giving me not-so-gentle reminders of my hidden experimentations. I drive my date to dinner with a box of diapers in my back seat. I’m vividly aware of how close she is. To me. To my new diapers. I wonder if she’d laugh at me for having them. If she’d call me a dirty boy for using them. My fists grip the steering wheel when an image pops in my head of me thoroughly at her mercy, diapered and on a short leash. On my way home, I pick up my freshly tailored suit coat and the box looms over my shoulder, teasing me. I admire the shortened cuffs and tucked waistband. It fits well with my vest; deliberately chosen in the morning for this very moment. My choices for work clothes would never accommodate the extra padding of a diaper. I keep them cut close and fitting to what little form I have. My slim figure paired with this trim cut would make the bulk of a diaper only stand out that much more. I see the box as I back out of the parking lot and it sees me too. I check my blind spot to merge in traffic and I catch it staring. Tempting me. Taunting me. I grind my hips into the driver's seat and it causes my cock to rub against the seam of my slacks. My tiny humps matching the rhythm of the music. I imagine I’m thrusting into a beautiful woman who holds my mouth to her breast, offering praise as I worship and serve her like her good little prince. I’m overly excited at the promise of that box in my rear view. My heart jumps a few beats each time I think of it. My anticipation grows with the moisture between my thighs. As always, I wave my residence card at the apartment guard and she passes me through the gate. Unreasonably, I hope she doesn’t somehow know what I hide in the unmarked cardboard box. At the thought of being caught and ridiculed, blood rushes up to make my face red with blush and down to make my lips swell with need. My bladder is near to bursting when I finally unlock the door and am greeted by demanding meows. I have to push cinnamon aside in an attempt to get in quickly. The box of diapers makes a satisfying thud on my floor when I drop it. So satisfying, in fact, that I pause and consider not going to the restroom right away. What if I took advantage of this preexisting urgency to wrap myself in a diaper and then wait until I really can’t hold it anymore? My feet don’t let my mind decide and carry me to the bathroom. Old habits die hard, after all.

When I finally go to bed, I take with me more toys than usual. I have a deep itch and my usual wont cut it. I engage the Bunny Brothers to assist me. Reginald holds the pump to my cock. His face accepts my humping as I thrust my hips greedily into the toy. I moan for him as his efforts make me engorged and sensitive. I’m holding back to prolong these feelings. The longer I wait, the stronger I cream. Sir Hoppington III graciously supports the vibrator I give him to hold against my nipples. With my free arm, I embrace his small furry body and burry my face between his ears. He is used to this treatment. He loves the way my teeth find purchase when Reginald increased the pressure on my cock. Eustace gazes longingly at his brothers from his place of exile just feet away.

Reginald waits until I beg before he fills me with his cock of choice. It’s always the same one for him. It’s big and black and pointed, but his favorite feature is the bulging knot that splits the bottom third of the toy from the top. He enjoys pushing and shoving until he can force the knot past through my pelvis. Tonight he gives me no extra help. I think he offers me some mercy when he removes the pump from my cock, but groan when he replaced it with a low buzzing vibrator. He knows it’s too low to let me cum, but high enough to loosen my walls. While switching between nipples, Sir Hoppington III laughs and quips about how good of a slut they’ve created. Between thrusts, Reginald grunts out his responses, “I bet he’d even let Eustace face fuck him, he’s that much of a naughty, dirty boy.” Hard, deep thrusts emphasize his last three words. At the cue, Eustace takes advantage of my moaning to shove his cock into my open mouth. At the same time, Reginald increases the rate of the vibrator. His thrusts change as well. He no longer pulls back to bring his cock out. Instead, he holds my hips close to him, pressing deeper and deeper. The pressure from his thick bulge doesn’t let up. The salty taste of Eustace's precum hits my tongue. I use two fingers to show him I think his cock is short. He picks up his speed to a near feverish pace. He stuffs my throat so full it chokes me and at the same time Reginald finally ties his knot in my hole. My eyes roll back as the first of a wave of orgasms crashes over my body. After having opened me enough to fit all of him, each of his deep thrusts is punctuated by the sloppy sound of the bulb popping working in and out of me. At his deepest, the pointed tip of his cock hits my overly sensitive cervix, making me scream in ecstasy and opening my mouth wider to swallow more of Eustace’s shaft. When they finally finish using my body, I’ve lost count of the number of orgasms that have been pulled from me and it’s well past my bedtime. They wait patiently where I leave them while I clean myself up. When I crawl back into bed, they are waiting with gentle kisses and praise. Each finds a spot close to me and we all cuddle down to sleep.