Oups...

Using him as my toilet

I couldn't think of a better way to use the toilet other then filling my husband's diaper for him 😈

Windel voll. 🤗

At a lively party filled with guests chattering and laughing, the atmosphere was electric with excitement. The music thumped in the background, and the colorful lights danced around the room, casting playful shadows. Amidst this vibrant setting, a scene unfolded that caught the attention of many.

In the center of the room, a woman dressed in a bright, rainbow-colored onesie was standing awkwardly, her face flushed with embarrassment. Her dominant partner, a tall man with a commanding presence, approached her with a mischievous grin. The guests, intrigued by the dynamic, began to gather around, their curiosity piqued.

"Time for a diaper check," he announced loudly, ensuring everyone could hear. The woman squirmed, her eyes darting around, meeting the amused and curious gazes of the partygoers. Her partner gently lifted the back of her onesie, revealing a very full and messy diaper adorned with playful balloon prints. The room fell into a hush, then erupted into whispers and chuckles.

The woman's cheeks turned a deeper shade of red as she felt the weight and the fullness of her diaper being scrutinized in front of everyone. Her partner, with a firm yet caring touch, patted the back of her diaper, making a show of checking its contents.

"You've been quite busy, haven't you?" he remarked, his voice carrying a playful yet authoritative tone, amplifying her humiliation. The crowd's reactions varied; some laughed softly, others watched with a mix of fascination and sympathy.

Her humiliation was palpable, her vulnerability on full display. Yet, in the midst of her embarrassment, there was a strange connection between her and her dominant partner, a silent understanding that this was part of their dynamic, a dance of power and submission that they both engaged in willingly.

As the moment passed, the party resumed its lively pace, but the memory of the scene lingered, a topic of whispered conversation among the guests. The woman, still flushed, was guided away by her partner, who whispered reassurances, reinforcing their bond in the quiet aftermath of public exposure.

They moved to a quieter corner of the house, where a makeshift changing area had been prepared in advance. The room was softly lit, providing a stark contrast to the bright, bustling party outside. Here, privacy allowed for a more intimate exchange. He laid out a changing mat on the floor, and with a calm, authoritative voice, he instructed her to lie down.

As she complied, her face still warm with the flush of embarrassment from the public display, he knelt beside her. With practiced ease, he began the process of changing her diaper. First, he carefully removed her onesie, lifting it to expose the very messy diaper fully. The diaper, heavy and sagging from the fullness, was gently untaped on one side, then the other.

"Relax, let me take care of you," he murmured, sensing her lingering discomfort. He slid the diaper out from under her, taking care to keep her as comfortable as possible. The room was quiet except for the soft rustle of the diaper being removed and the gentle background music from the party seeping through the walls.

He took a moment to clean her up with baby wipes, ensuring she was fresh and ready for a new diaper. The care in his touch was evident, a contrast to the public humiliation, showing the depth of their dynamic. He then unfolded a new diaper, this one also adorned with cheerful designs, and slid it under her.

With precision, he adjusted the diaper, making sure it was snug but comfortable. He taped it securely, checking the fit with a gentle pat. "All done," he said with a soft smile, helping her sit up. He then helped her back into her onesie, smoothing it down with care.

The intimate moment of the diaper change, away from the eyes of the guests, was a soothing balm to the earlier humiliation. It was a reminder of the care and trust within their relationship, a balance between public play and private tenderness. With a final kiss on her forehead, he stood, offering his hand to help her up.

They rejoined the party, her embarrassment now mixed with a quiet pride, knowing that the care she received was as much a part of their dynamic as the public display had been. The guests, having moved on to other conversations, barely noticed their return, allowing them to blend back into the celebration with a renewed sense of connection.

Sorry I haven’t posted much recently. I just bought a house! Here is a picture of my morning diaper

😢🐷💩🤤✨️ yucky

Very well done! 👏💜💩