So, you’re laying on a diaper, on the changing table. Paws and ankles tied. Paci gag. Slowly getting pawed off. Getting told how much you need diapers. How diapers are fun. That diapers make you horny and satisfied. That every thing about diapers is just so nice. Being slowly brainwashed. That mental train of thought of “diapers = GOOD” being not just walked, but worn deeply in. You’re told that if you’ll whine and beg for diapers behind the gag. You’ll be made very very happy by the time we’re through. So you beg. You beg, and whine and drool, and arch your back, pleading for a thick diaper, all the while being told how happy diapers make you. How safe. How horny. How secure. How that after this, all your mind may be saying “but I’m a big boy!” But all you’ll be able to do is whimper and whine and fill your thick, visible pampers. And when the begging and desperate whining finally turns to shaky whimpering.... You’re quickly caged, get a nice inflatable plug, and a very thick diaper. Locking mitts complete your new wardrobe. You whimper and whine behind the gag. But all you get is a diaper pat. It’s so thick you can’t even feel it. You feel so pent up. A few squeezes on the bulb of your inflatable plug. So whimpery and drooly...but strangely..happy. This is right. No more cumming. No more potty. Just a nice cage and a thick diaper. “Shh shh shh baby. It’s ok. See? It’s ok. I told you I’d make you happy and diapers make you so happy, remember? You wanted this. Isn’t this so much better?”