(first part) There was Brenda’s son, John, with a diaper covered on the front and back with cartoonish characters. John was on his stomach on his bed, humping and grinding against the mattress. Brenda made a surprised little noise with her throat, and immediately, John looked up, petrified to see his mother staring at him with one hand covering her mouth. Her eyes were fixed on John’s infant diaper, unable to look anywhere else. He jerked to throw the sheets over himself as Brenda rushed out of the room. John was left with anguish etched on his face. His mother had seen him in his precious diapers; this was not good for either party. Now, how would he go to dinner after that? How would he see his mother? Oh, he was in trouble.
During the days following the incident, Brenda didn’t name anything she saw that day, and of course, John didn’t make any reference to that event either. He preferred it that way. However, this gradually changed. Brenda was making more and more comments about the guy:
“John, are you wearing diapers today?” She asked in a sweet tone, appearing calm when her heartbeat wildly.
To which John hastily replied no, but she insisted, smiling affably. She even went so far as to stick a finger down the waistband of John’s pants to check if he was wearing diapers, as she didn’t seem to believe him. This, to John, could have been more annoying and confusing.
“No, Mother, I’m not wearing anything.” John would reply before retreating.
She would not relent; Brenda would insist on asking him these questions and ask, “You’re not wearing them today?” as if she were making an innocent comment. One morning, she went to wake John up in his room.
“Honey, wake up; I have a surprise for you. Look what I bought you…” Brenda was saying to a still sleepy John.
John tried to focus his eyes properly and saw that his mother was holding a very childish diaper with the characters from earlier. He had to convince himself that that wasn’t a bad dream; she was holding some diapers.
“I want you to wear them all day.” Brenda kept smiling as she said that.
From that day on, Brenda made John wear diapers. She would coach him to fuck the bed and cum in the diapers. While this was going on, she would watch in fascination. Sometimes she would find a chair and spend hours watching John wiggle against the bed, and he would make little noises of pleasure as he came in the diapers. He felt uncomfortable, even humiliated, but his mother would command him to do these things subtly and gently, making it almost impossible for him to resist. Besides, wearing diapers was unnerving for him; wearing them all day was a change, and he didn’t know yet if it was for the better. His mother pushed him to do it, and he agreed to the humiliation. Brenda would never take no for an answer. She was firm but loving at the same time. Brenda was engrossed in watching him fuck the bed furiously, watching John shift his hips, and the noise the bed made was very distinctive. Brenda kept being very gentle with him, asking him to put on his diapers so he didn’t feel like she was nagging or forcing him. That was even stranger. She remained calm at all times.
So, they spent those days together in John’s room. Brenda watched with increasing delight as he cummed hard in his diapers, wiggling his hips into the mattress. He often did it forcefully, causing the bed springs to squeak. John’s diapers would stay on for a long time…