Forced Diapers Novels & Stories

Three years of contract marriage, and Silas has been the picture of icy restraint — buttoning his shirts all the way to the top. Knowing he doesn't love me, I decide to stop lying to myself. But just as I'm about to flee with the divorce papers, I stumble upon a forum called Mischief & Mayhem. The pinned post screams in red letters: "URGENT! I'm actually an incubus. I've spent three years pretending to be cold and celibate so I won't scare my wife. But she just asked for a divorce and I can't hide it anymore... HELP: How do I win her back in 30 days without revealing what I am?" In the attached photo, a black heart-tipped tail is shamefully coiled around a suit trouser leg, its tip hooked around a tie. That tie — I bolt upright in bed. That's the limited-edition tie I gave Silas. My iceberg husband is secretly a lovesick male incubus?

I’m Daisy Valence. Eighteen. The favorite daughter of the Valence family. I woke up and found myself eight years in the future. Not only was I married to my nemesis, Lorenzo Astor, but we had a four-year-old son. Even crazier, the future me was a stone-cold snake, plotting to gut Lorenzo's operation while planning to run off with her "lover" after the divorce. And this "lover"? Just some nobody from the slums I was bankrolling. I must have lost my mind. Just as I was about to cut ties with all of them and get my free, single life back... I found the love letters Lorenzo wrote me, a secret stash of things I’d used, and a phone filled with my pictures… Then he grabbed me, his eyes bloodshot, and held me so tight I could barely breathe. He growled, "Who the hell gave you permission to leave me?" "I never agreed to any divorce, my wife."

The day my husband left the country on a business trip with his assistant, I learned—by sheer accident—that his archenemy was plotting revenge overseas. Without a second thought, I raced to the airport and stopped him from boarding the plane. But his assistant went ahead, alone. And over there, she was killed brutally. Not a trace of her remains was ever found. When my husband received the news, he fell apart. Wracked with guilt, eaten alive by remorse, he spiraled into a relentless, violent mania. In the past three years, I'd been in and out of hospitals more times than I could count because of him. And this time, he pushed me so far—I lost our child. Then I overheard a conversation between him and his secretary. "Sir, Casey is still alive. Why keep pretending you're sick? Aren't you afraid your wife will find out and leave you?" "Leave me? What right does she have to be angry?" He laughed coldly. "If she hadn't stopped me from going abroad, Casey would've never been lured away by that bastard. Everything Linda's suffering now—she brought it on herself."

For my birthday, my husband, Don Damien, gave me his dead wife’s pearls. I wore them to the dinner party. My enraged stepson, Leo, doused me in red wine. I became the laughingstock of the party. “You whore,” he hissed. “You think wearing my mother’s jewelry makes you her?” He stared at me, his eyes cold as ice. Then he screamed. "Get out of my house." But his mother died when he was a baby. I raised him. Someone had whispered poison in his ear. They told him I was the one who killed his mother. Now he thinks I'm a scheming bitch who tricked his father. And his father? My husband? He never saw me. He only saw Krista’s ghost. My heart didn't break. It shattered. They didn't love me. They didn't even care. So I walked. Then why, after I was finally gone, did they come crawling back, begging me to return?

I am the Shadowstar pack's princess. In my childhood, I got injured after saving Matthew Graham. From that day on, I couldn't shift into my wolf form. Matthew travels all around the world, looking for miracle healers to cure me, but his efforts are always in vain. After the witch once again declares that I can never be cured, he covers my ears and whispers "I love you" all night long. As we are about to walk down the aisle and become mates, something unexpected happens. Alpha Leonard orders the young she-wolf—Matthew's companion, who has been with him on his quest to find a miracle healer for me—to marry the cruel Edwin Bowen. Matthew immediately turns away and leaves me behind. "I'm sorry. Please wait for me." I wait all day before receiving news that he and the she-wolf have become mates. Late at night, I calmly stare at Edwin, who has come to abduct me and make me his bride. "Compared to being dragged away, I'd rather go with you willingly."

Amber and Oscar are the next in line to be the queen and king of the dragon species. They are gifted an angel after their engagement. Oscar had the big rule of not accepting live gifts, while Amber fell down for her blue eyes and innocent smile. Weak angel, babies are being thrown out of heaven, the dragons of the earth couldn't take leaving the babies on their own, instead, they adopted them in, all of them are submissive, some are pets, some are littles, and others are just submissive, but one thing they all have in common is they are costly and rare to get by, before other supernatural or humans get to them. This story is a cgl story, contains mommy, daddy, bottle, and diapers, you've been warned. Apologies for any misspellings and grammar mistakes.

In the third year of her marriage, Natalie Shepherd decides to screw it all and flee from her husband while pregnant.But why does Henry Chase keep pestering her right after she serves him the divorce papers?When Natalie goes to the restaurant for a nice meal, Henry stares at her from the table next to hers. He's the judge of the competition she participates in, and he keeps staring at her with a small smile on his face the whole time.But Henry loses his cool instantly when Natalie's about to mingle with other young and handsome men."That's enough, Natalie! Come home this instant! It's time to change our baby's diapers!"

My husband constantly ignored my pleas in my previous life, giving his salary to his first love despite my objections. After giving birth, I couldn't produce any milk due to prolonged starvation. My son cried desperately from hunger. When I finally managed to buy formula and brought it home, my husband snatched it away to give to his first love. "Vicky's milk supply is low too, and she's a widow. Let's give it to her child first," he insisted. I fought to take it back, but my husband knocked me unconscious. I staggered to look for him when I regained consciousness, only to discover my husband at Victoria Langford's house, putting on diapers for someone else's child. My son had already starved to death then, and out of despair, I followed him in death. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back to the moment I first learned of my pregnancy. This time, I chose to terminate the pregnancy and file for divorce.

My husband, Simon Fuller, brings home his secretary, Alicia Reed, who has just given birth. He expects me to take care of her while she recovers from the delivery. Instead of tossing Alicia's things out, I put on my apron and prepare a nutritious meal. Since then, I've been reduced to the biggest laughingstock in our social circle. Despite being Simon's lawfully wedded wife, I'm treated like the housekeeper. I spend my entire day waiting on Alicia and changing the diapers of Simon's illegitimate son, Mason Fuller. Satisfied with the way I've been fulfilling my role as his dutiful wife, Simon brags to his friends, "Zoe's far too madly in love with me. As long as I don't divorce her, she's willing to put up with all kinds of mistreatment. "She also said that a hired nanny couldn't be trusted and insisted on raising Mason herself." Banking on the fact that she'd given Simon a son, Alicia orders me around like a housekeeper, demanding that I wash her clothes for her. Everyone starts placing bets on when I'll finally lose my mind. The bet ends up going on for 18 years. By now, everyone says I have to be hopelessly in love with Simon. I've willingly sacrificed 18 years of my youth, reduced to being a housekeeper, all in the hopes of winning him back. However, I'm the only one who knows the truth. This whole time, I've been waiting for Mason's 18th birthday party. Once he turns 18, I will finally receive 30% of Fuller Group's shares.

When my best friend died, his wife, Mia Lewis, was eight months pregnant. Mia said she didn't want her baby growing up without a father. I owed my best friend my life. He saved me, literally pulled me from death's door. So I stepped up, marrying Mia and raising their son as my own. Mia loved her career, so I quit mine. Traded my job for diapers and school runs. For seven whole years, I cooked, cleaned, folded laundry, and handled the housework. Rain or shine, sickness or health, I was there—every single day. Mia, though? She stayed cold, distant. Her warmth only surfaced in the bedroom—and even then, it was a flicker, never a flame. Just soft sighs and breathy murmurs, like she was playing a role she couldn't wait to finish. Afterward, she would quietly check the condom, as if she couldn't trust me. Then came New Year's Eve. A snap. A tear. A broken condom. Her fury struck like a thunderclap. She locked me out on the balcony, left me standing in the freezing rain, soaked to the bone as the wind howled like a wounded beast. Teeth chattering, I shivered as I watched the door like a dog, waiting to be let in. Then I saw him. Our boy, Ethan Bailey. Six years old. My son, at least in name. He came running with an umbrella in his hand. For a second, my heart leapt. 'Maybe, just maybe…' But he didn't even look at me. Just walked past in silence and handed the umbrella to the nanny heading out. Right then and there, something inside me cracked. I knew it was time to go.