Spyro In Diapers

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.

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.