Welcome to Mommy Anna’s Diapered Storybook!
My recent experience of having my store on Etsy closed because of their discrimination against our community (they are closing down all ABDL hypnosis audio there) has been one more reminder to me of how important it is for us to stay together as a community.
I’ve decided to publish full-length diaper and regression stories, for free, as a special way of giving back to our community. I’m also recording these stories and posting them (full-length) on my YouTube channel, so you can hear me read them there. Mommy Emma will also be recording some of these stories for YouTube.
Anyway, I hope you enjoy these stories and keep being the wonderful you that you are!
At nineteen, Dave had perfected the art of doing nothing. His days were a blur of snacks, naps, and video games, sprawled across the living room couch. His mother, patient for far too long, finally snapped her fingers at dinner one evening and made an announcement between bites of green beans.
“I found you a job, sweetheart.”
Dave blinked, fork hovering mid-air. “Wait—what?”
“You start tomorrow morning. Mrs. Allen’s Magical Daycare. You’ll be a helper.”
“A daycare?!” Dave’s face twisted with horror. “I’m not spending my days with sticky little brats!”
His mother’s eyes narrowed, the kind of look that could silence an army. “Then find something else. But until then, you’re going.”
And so, at 8:00 a.m. sharp the next day, Dave found himself standing outside a cheerful little cottage painted in soft pastels. “Magical Daycare” was spelled in looping letters above the doorway, and a smiling sun painted on the door practically mocked him. His mom leaned across the car seat and kissed his forehead.
“Be good, Davey.”
“I’m not five,” he mumbled.
Mrs. Allen met him at the door with a beaming smile. She was a round woman with silver hair in a bun, wearing a lavender smock that smelled like cookies and baby wipes. “Welcome, dear! We’ve been expecting you!”
Dave barely had time to mutter a reply before she whisked him inside. “Come, come, let me show you around. We’re just so tickled to have a big helper today!”
The Infant Room was their first stop. The smell hit Dave like a wall. Powder, formula, and unmistakably diapers. The room was warm, filled with soft lullaby music and the occasional gurgle or cry. Cribs lined the walls, and rocking chairs swayed gently. A pair of caregivers changed diapers at a padded table while tiny babies kicked and fussed.
“Ugh,” Dave muttered, turning away as one baby let out a particularly dramatic wail.
Next was the Toddler Room, a colorful chaos of blocks, finger paints, and high-pitched giggles. The air was thick with the smell of Play-Doh, apple slices, and the occasional whiff of a diaper not yet changed. Toddlers waddled around in puffy pants, shrieking with laughter or melting down in sudden tantrums. A teacher with the patience of a saint was wiping applesauce off one child’s face while gently redirecting another away from biting.
Mrs. Allen chuckled. “They’re energetic, but so full of heart!”
Then came the Preschool Room, which had a rhythm all its own. Kids were seated at miniature tables, cutting construction paper and learning the alphabet with songs. The scent here was glue sticks, juice boxes, and graham crackers. Dave caught a paper airplane to the shoulder.
In the Kindergarten Room, the atmosphere felt more structured. Bulletin boards with gold stars and weather charts lined the walls. A group sat in a circle learning about caterpillars. The teacher here gave Dave a once-over and smirked slightly, as if sizing him up.
Finally, they reached the School-Aged Room. Bright posters of multiplication tables and storybooks decorated the walls. A reading nook sat in one corner, and a group of older kids worked on coloring sheets or practiced spelling with magnetic letters.
“This,” Mrs. Allen said, “is where you’ll be most helpful.”
The teacher greeted them—a tall woman with a warm smile and a honeyed voice that carried a note of firm authority. “This must be Dave. We’ll whip him into shape.”
Dave was just getting his bearings when the door opened and in walked her.
Samantha.
The girl he’d crushed on through most of high school. She was as stunning as ever, hair in a high ponytail, casual but cute outfit, and a clipboard in hand.
“Oh,” she smiled. “I didn’t know you were working here, Dave.”
His throat went dry. His legs went weak. And then, warmth.
It started as a trickle and turned into a flood, spreading rapidly across the front of his jeans.
Samantha blinked. “Um, Dave?”
The kids burst into laughter.
“He peed his pants!”
“Gross!”
Dave stood frozen, mortified, as the teacher swiftly moved in.
“Alright kids, inside voices please!” she said, guiding Dave gently by the elbow toward a side room. “It’s okay, sweetheart, accidents happen.”
“No, wait! It’s not” Dave stammered, face red and eyes wide.
“Hush, it’s alright,” she cooed. “Let’s just get you into some dry clothes.”
Dave tried to protest as she unbuttoned his pants. “I can do it. I don’t need!”
But she was already tugging them down, followed quickly by his soaked underwear.
“I don’t want, what are these?!”
She held out a pair of training pants. “Just a pull-up. One accident means pull-ups for the day. It’s daycare policy.”
Before he could resist, she helped him into them, then slid a pair of shorts up over them. They felt oddly snug. Somehow the waistband didn’t quite reach his belly button anymore.
“You’re ready for the rest of your day, champ!”
Dave was about to argue, but the teacher took his hand and led him out. “Let’s move you to the kindergarten room. Pull-up wearers belong there.”
Dave’s protests went ignored.
The Kindergarten Room welcomed Dave with a chorus of giggles and songs. The room was bright, with rows of tiny desks, a reading rug shaped like a sunflower, and cubbies with names written in colorful marker. Dave noticed a faint sweet scent in the air—fruit snacks and juice boxes, with just a hint of disinfectant.
“This is Davey,” the school-aged teacher said warmly, giving a little wink to the kindergarten teacher. “He’s here to be a big helper today.”
The kindergarten teacher, named Miss Jennie, was cheerful, with a singsong voice and big blue eyes that sparkled with mischief. “Oh, how wonderful! Another little helper. We can always use more helping hands, can’t we kids?”
“Yes Miss Jennie!” the class chirped back.
Dave blinked. “Um. I’m just here to help, not. y’know, be a student.”
Miss Jennie patted his shoulder. “Of course, sweetie. But we all help in our own way. Why don’t you take a seat at that table and help the kids with their coloring?”
The table was knee-high, and the chairs were even lower. Dave tried to kneel beside it but found himself being guided into one of the little seats. It squeaked slightly under him. Miss Jennie handed him a pack of crayons.
“Help them stay inside the lines, okay?”
The minutes passed, and Dave began to notice strange things. His pull-up felt puffier than before, and his feet barely touched the floor. The crayons in his hand felt somehow bigger?
A little girl tapped his arm. “You’re not very good at coloring.”
“I’m not supposed to be coloring!” he snapped, then softened as Miss Jennie gave him a look. “I’m just helping.”
Later, while sitting through a sing-along about the days of the week, Dave shifted uncomfortably. Something felt warm. He looked down, horrified to see a damp patch forming on the front of his shorts.
Not again.
Miss Jennie saw it too. She stood immediately, her tone soft but serious. “Alright, Davey, I think you need a fresh pull-up, sweetheart.”
“No! I can change. I can go home.”
“Shhh, sweetie. Accidents happen. But that was your second one, and you know what that means.” Miss Jennie had swiftly removed his shorts, tore off his wet pull-up and held out another pull-up for him to step into.
Dave’s stomach dropped. “What does it mean?”
Misee Jennie pulled his shorts u and led him gently by the hand out of the room and into the hallway. “One more accident, honey, and it’s diaper time. That’s the rule.”
“I don’t need diapers,” he hissed, but Miss Jennie was already opening the door to the Preschool Room.
“This room’s a better fit for little ones who are still learning about their big-kid pants. Miss Lacey will help you from here.”
Dave looked up to see the preschool teacher, a gentle woman with a firm smile and long braids, kneeling to his level.
“Hello there, Davey. We’ve got just the spot for you.”
This room was more padded floor than anything else, with shelves of toys, picture books, and soft animals. The smell was stronger now—apple juice, glue, and something unmistakable. Diapers. He saw a changing table in the far corner of the room and shuddered.
Miss Jennie gave his shoulder a pat and passed him off. “He’s had two wet pull-ups already today. You’ll need to keep a close eye on him.”
Dave opened his mouth to argue, but Miss Lacey had already taken his hand and was showing him to a big pile of blocks.
“Let’s play for a little, hmm?”
Minutes passed. Maybe hours? Time seemed to stretch in this strange, padded world. Dave found himself stacking blocks with the other preschoolers, laughing, not even realizing he was crawling around on his hands and knees.
Then Miss Lacey clapped. “Alright my little sprouts, it’s nap time!”
A collective groan went up from the room.
Dave raised his hand. “Actually, I think I should head back to the”
“You’ve been such a big help this morning, Davey. I think a little rest is just what you need.”
She handed him a mat with cartoon puppies on it and a soft blanket. Before he could protest again, she dimmed the lights, and the soft sound of lullabies filled the room.
“I’m not sleepy,” Dave muttered, laying down reluctantly. But moments later, his eyes drooped. The room faded.
And then he woke up wet.
Soaked, in fact. His shorts were damp, his pull-up had leaked, and the puppy mat beneath him had a dark stain right in the middle. Before he could even sit up, Miss Lacey was kneeling beside him with a gentle smile and a pack of wipes.
“Oh honey. That was a big accident.”
“I didn’t mean to. I didn’t even notice.”
“I know, sweetheart. It happens to the littlest ones all the time. Let’s get you into something better.”
She led him to the back of the room, where a soft, cushioned changing table waited. As soon as she helped him up onto it, Dave froze.
“Wait! No! You can’t!”
“Hush now. Three wet pull-ups means diapers for the day. That’s the rule, baby boy.”
And before he could stop her, she had torn away his soggy pull-up, cleaned him with gentle but swift strokes, and unfolded a thick, crinkly diaper from beneath the table. It looked huge. It looked terrifying.
“No, please.”
She lifted his legs with one hand and slid the diaper beneath him. “It’s okay, Davey. It’s just for today. We want you to stay dry and comfy.”
She powdered him, pulled the diaper up snug between his legs, and taped it securely. Dave tried to sit up, but she firmly laid him back and tugged his shirt off, replacing it with a baby blue onesie that snapped tight around his bulky new diaper.
“No shorts today. Babies like you don’t need them.”
She picked him up, more like lifted him off the table, and carried him out into the hallway like he weighed nothing at all.
And where was she taking him?
To the Toddler Room.
Miss Lacey carried Dave on her hip as though he were just another toddler. Softly padded, snug in his onesie, and blinking in disbelief. The thick diaper forced his legs apart, and every small shift made it crinkle loudly. His cheeks burned with shame.
“Miss Tanya,” Lacey called as they entered the toddler room. “I’ve got a new little one for you.”
The Toddler Room was even more babyish than the last. The floor was mostly foam mats, scattered with push toys, plastic kitchen sets, and squishy animals. There were a few short tables with built-in seats, and off in the corner stood two high chairs.
The smell was… something else. Stronger now. Apple juice, yes, but also something unmistakable. The sharp, earthy scent of a dirty diaper lingered faintly in the air.
Miss Tanya, a cheerful woman with bright red lipstick and a flowy blouse, came over with a warm smile. “And who do we have here?”
“This is Davey,” Lacey said sweetly. “He had a few accidents, and now he’s in his special clothes. Thought he might fit better with your little bunnies for the rest of the afternoon.”
Miss Tanya gave him an amused look and reached out. “Hi Davey. You can come be my helper for lunch.”
“I’m not a toddler,” he mumbled. “I’m not supposed to be.”
“Hush now, sweetheart. Helpers sit still and follow directions, right?” She gave his diapered bottom a pat, and he flinched. “And helpers eat all their lunch with no fuss.”
Lunch had just begun, and two of the high chairs were still empty. Before Dave could react, she set him down in one of them. The plastic seat was wide, but he barely fit—his legs dangled, and the diaper ballooned up beneath him.
“I can sit at the table,” he tried, struggling against the buckle.
Click.
The straps slid into place across his chest and waist. He was stuck.
“Now now, Davey. You’re not going anywhere with that soggy little bottom.”
He squirmed as a bib was tied around his neck. A bib! And a plate of cut-up grilled cheese and carrot sticks was placed on the tray in front of him. A toddler-sized sippy cup of milk followed, decorated with dinosaurs.
Dave tried to grab a carrot stick, but Tanya was already spoon-feeding him applesauce.
“There we go, open wide! Good boy!”
Each bite made his humiliation grow. Toddlers sat around him, eating with their fingers, giggling at his bib and crinkly bottom.
After lunch, he was finally released from the chair, his onesie riding up as he toddled awkwardly on thickly-padded legs to the back door. Outside was a fenced play area filled with slides, ride-on toys, and a big plastic jungle gym.
He waddled slowly, the bulk between his thighs making walking difficult. A few kids ran past him, laughing, barely giving him a second glance. For a moment, he almost relaxed. At least out here he could be left alone.
But then it hit him.
A cramp.
It started small—a gentle pressure in his belly. He hunched over slightly, putting a hand on his stomach.
Please no. Not this. Not here.
Another cramp hit, deeper this time, and his body gave an involuntary shudder. He clutched his tummy, squatting slightly, knees bending.
“No,” he whispered. “Hold it. Hold it.”
But it was too late.
With a soft grunt, he felt the diaper swell behind him, a hot, mushy mess filling the seat. His face twisted in horror as he instinctively bent over, trying to resist. But his body had other plans.
He stayed crouched for a moment, frozen in panic.
And that’s when he heard her voice.
“Well, well,” Miss Tanya said gently. “Looks like someone made a big stinky.”
Dave jerked upright. “No! I didn’t! I mean.”
“Oh honey,” she cooed, already kneeling down to check him. “That’s a very full diaper you’ve got there. Let’s get you changed.”
She took him by the hand—he didn’t even try to pull away—and led him inside. Several toddlers stared as he passed by, and one of them wrinkled their nose.
“Ewwww! Davey pooped!”
Dave’s lip trembled. His cheeks were on fire.
In the changing corner, Miss Tanya had him lay down on a soft mat. He whimpered, trying to hide his face.
“I know, baby,” she said soothingly, wiping away tears with one hand while opening a tub of wipes with the other. “It’s hard at first. But this is where you belong now, sweetie.”
He sniffled.
“You’re doing so well for your first day.”
After a thorough cleanup, she slid a fresh, thick diaper under him, powdered him, and taped him up snugly. Then she pulled a new onesie from the shelf—this one pale yellow with little clouds on it—and snapped it into place.
“There we go. All fresh and clean. Now let’s help that little pout, hmm?”
She reached over and popped a pacifier gently between his lips.
Dave tried to spit it out—but it felt oddly comforting.
Miss Tanya smiled, cradling his cheek. “You’re such a good baby.”
Instead of returning to the toddler play yard, she scooped him into her arms and carried him down the hallway.
“To the infant room we go. Because babies who mess their diapers belong with the other littlest babies.”
Dave’s eyes went wide, his pacifier dropping slightly as he shook his head. “No! I don’t belong!”
She popped the pacifier back in with a soft shush, then opened the infant room door.
“Miss Becca,” she sang, “I’ve got a new sleepy little one for you!”
The Infant Room was quiet, dimly lit, and filled with the gentle hum of lullabies playing softly in the background. The scent of baby lotion, powder, and warm milk hung in the air. Cribs lined the far wall, each with soft blankets and mobiles spinning lazily overhead. Plush toys were scattered across the padded play area in the center of the room, where a handful of actual infants were lying on their tummies, babbling or napping peacefully.
Miss Becca looked up from a rocking chair, where she was cradling a tiny sleeping baby in her arms. She was young, soft-spoken, with a soothing presence and kind eyes.
“Ohhh,” she whispered with a gentle smile as Tanya entered, carrying Dave. “And who’s this precious little snugglebug?”
“This is Davey,” Miss Tanya said sweetly, adjusting his pacifier. “Had a messy diaper after lunch and needed some quiet time with the littles.”
Becca’s eyes sparkled. “Well, he’s just in time for story time, isn’t he?”
Dave tried to protest, but the pacifier muffled everything to a soft babble. His face was a mixture of shock, fatigue, and total humiliation. He reached for Tanya’s arm as she handed him over, but Becca cradled him easily, holding him against her chest like he weighed nothing.
“There we go, sweetpea. You’re alright now.”
Becca settled onto a soft blanket with him in her lap, surrounded by plush animals and picture books. The infants were gently corralled around them, some drooling, others chewing on teething toys. Dave sat among them, his bulky diaper pushing his legs apart, his head resting against Becca despite himself.
She opened a board book and began to read in a soft, melodic voice.
“Goodnight moon. Goodnight cow jumping over the moon.”
Dave’s eyelids drooped. The pacifier bobbed gently in his mouth. The warmth of the room, the softness of Becca’s voice, the rhythmic back rub she was giving him. It was all too much.
By the time the second story ended, Dave was half-asleep, blinking slowly as Becca kissed his forehead.
“Alright my littles,” she whispered. “Nap time.”
The infants were gently laid into their cribs, one by one. Dave barely noticed as he was lifted, his head drooping onto Becca’s shoulder, his diaper crinkling loudly as she carried him to the last crib.
She laid him down carefully and pulled a soft pastel blanket over him. She popped the pacifier back in and turned on the crib mobile—tiny stars and moons circling slowly above him.
The lullaby began to play.
Dave blinked up at the spinning shapes… and drifted off once more.
He woke to the sound of familiar voices.
“Aw, he looks so peaceful,” a woman cooed.
Dave blinked groggily and looked up to see—his mother.
She was standing beside the crib, smiling down at him with glowing pride. Beside her stood Mrs. Allen, the daycare director, hands clasped calmly in front of her.
“Oh, he was an absolute angel today,” Mrs. Allen said softly. “Once he got into his routine, it was like he belonged here.”
Dave’s mother beamed. “I haven’t seen him this calm in years. Thank you so much, Mrs. Allen. I didn’t expect such a transformation in just one day.”
Dave sat up slowly, his crinkly diaper rustling beneath his onesie. “Ma ma?”
She reached into the crib and gently lifted him out, holding him close, rocking him like a baby. “Shhh, baby. Mommy’s here.”
“Go home?” he whispered, but the pacifier muffled him again as she gently pushed it back into his mouth.
Mrs. Allen chuckled softly. “Of course you’re going home with your Mommy, but I do hope you’ll consider enrolling him full-time. I think Davey has found his place here.”
His mother gave Dave a squeeze. “Oh, I think so too. I’ve got my sweet baby boy again.”
Dave whimpered, burying his face in her shoulder as she patted his diapered bottom softly and rocked him back and forth.
Mrs. Allen smiled.
“We’ll look forward to seeing you again bright and early tomorrow, Davey.”
And with that, the nursery door closed behind them.
