Justins New Life

Note From Author

This is my first submission so thank you for reading. This story contains elements of incest, humiliation and light infantilism. If any of these subjects offend, please do not continue reading. All characters are 18+ and are in no way meant to be portrayed as below the age of consent.

Please let me know in the comments if you enjoyed this story and if there should be a part 2!

Thank you for reading!

Jess

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Justin sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes, which were only barely open. He yawned, glancing around the room as his eyes acclimated to the morning light peaking through the window. Looking down at the end of his bed he could see his bedroom door was open, evidence that his mother had come and gone, no doubt in an effort to wake him up. He yawned again before kicking his feet and pushing his blankets down until they pooled at his feet.

He shuffled his body, turning to the side and letting his feet hang off the bed. The swish of the diaper secured around his waist echoing in his newly awoken ears. He still wasn't comfortable in it. The new addition, at his mother's insistence, had bothered him all night. He scratched at his waist where the Velcro clasps of the nappy had irritated his skin. Still, he knew better than to take it off. He knew how wrathful his overbearing mother could be, especially now.

Shifting himself forward, he placed his dangling feet on the floor and stood up, swaying a bit as the sleep began to shed from his muscles. Taking a few steps he found himself in front of his dresser, the top of which was just under shoulder height. Laid out on top, was a perfectly folded powder blue T-shirt that said "Mommy's Little Monster" on it. It wasn't lost on him that there were no bottoms laid out with it.

Justin had always been small for his age. He was 18 now. Old enough to vote. Old enough to join the military. This was supposed to be his senior year. He was supposed to be living it up before college. He was supposed to be going wild with his friends, but instead, he was here. In his room. In a diaper and holding a powder blue T-shirt.

"Come and eat Jussie," his mother called from down the hall. "Mommy put out clothes for you! Get dressed and come to breakfast!"

"Coming, Mom," he yelled back."

"Coming, what?!" She shouted, clearly correcting an error.

"Coming, MOMMY," he replied to a satisfied silence on the other end.

Justin lifted the shirt up, over his head, sliding his arms in and pulling it down over his body. The shirt smelled new and never worn. Justin shifted his body, pulling on the unstretched fabric until the shirt reached his waist, leaving his diapered bottom half uncovered. He tried to check himself in the mirror, above the dresser, but all he could see was his youthful, hairless face.

Walking out of his room, Justin waddled down the dimly lit hallway. He habitually counted his steps as his feet plopped on the hardwood floors. Each step echoed in unison with the swish of his diaper as he passed by beams of sunlight coming in from the windows of each room. The light would illuminate his feet and toes as he passed by before going dark again.

Once through the hallway, Justin found himself in the brightly lit kitchen. To the right was the fridge, counter space and sink with a window that looked out into the back yard. Next to the sink was the dishwasher and breakfast bar. Directly in the middle of the kitchen was an island with counter space and a built in stove top and oven.

Justin took a few timid steps further into the kitchen, noticing the breakfast bar had been laid out with a small, plastic, blue bowl and a light blue sippy cup with a lid. His anxiety peaked as he noticed what his mother had put out for him. There was a time when he used normal plates and cutlery, befitting someone his age. These days, things were much different. They were lifestyle adjustments he hadn't completely gotten used to and wondered if maybe, that was the point.

"Finally, out of bed," his mother said, standing at the island stove top as he entered the room.

"Yeah Mom," he replied groggily.

"Yes what?!" She asked.

"Mommy... I meant Mommy," he said again, still bogged down with left over sleep.

"That's better," she said. "You're going to get used to this mister. Things have to change around here. We agreed."

"I know Mommy," he replied. "You're right."

"I see you have on your new shirt Mommy got for you! And my, how CUTE you look!"

"Thank you, Mommy. I really... love it," he said, trying to hide his discomfort.

"That's wonderful baby," she said. "Mommy loves it too. It's befitting of a boy your size. Now, what does my baby want for breakfast?"

"Whatever..." he started, before being interrupted.

"Mommy knows what her baby wants," she said, reaching for the box of Alphabet cereal and pouring a pile into the blue bowl sitting in front of him. Opening the drawer in the island, she pulled out a small blue spoon and placed it next to the bowl before pouring a small bit of milk in.

Justin frustratingly took the small spoon in his hand, dipping it into the cereal and placing a tiny bit in his mouth. As he chewed, he noticed his mother smile and turn around. He eyed her up and down, noticing that she was wearing a baggy T-shirt, underwear and nothing else. This was also new. Before any of these changes, his mother would usually be fully dressed when he got up for breakfast. These days, she was much more relaxed.

As she shuffled around the kitchen, he couldn't help but gawk at the way her body moved when it was untethered by clothing. Each time she moved from one place to the next, her breasts would sway from side to side inside the baggy shirt as if they were lagging behind and trying to catch up with her body. She'd turn around again, with her back to him, and he would notice the way the back of the shirt got caught in the small of her back, revealing her thick, plump maternal butt. Her underwear struggling to keep all of the pillowy white meat inside. Each step she took sent ripples up through her soft, smooth thighs that gave him a lump in his throat and a tingling sensation in his crotch. Watching her body move made the device secured around his penis feel tight and constricting, causing him to shift in his seat.

All of this ache and attraction to his mother was new too. She was his mom and he always looked at her like a son looks at his mother. Not the way he does now. Now he looks at her with longing and lust. A desire to please her. To make her happy. To make her proud of him for any reason. These feelings were new to him and growing by the day.

"M... Mommy?" Justin asked, swallowing another mouthful of cereal. "Why do I have to wear this?"

"Wear what, honey? The diaper? We talked about this," she replied, stopping in her tracks to give him her attention. "You wear it because Mommy says so. You wear it because you're not built like a man. You wear it as a reminder."

"No, not that," he said. "The thing... around my dick."

"Ahem," his mother gasped, clearly taken aback and looking less than pleased. "Your WHAT?!"

"Come on," he whined. "Please don't make me call it that."

"Call it what?!" She asked, more annoyed. "Call it what it is?! Because it's DEFINITELY NOT a "dick" honey. We both know that."

"Ugh," he whined some more, closing his eyes and exhaling to assist in enduring the humiliation. "Fine. My... pee pee."

"That's better," she said, slowly turning her head and not taking her eyes off him until the last possible second. "You wear the device around your pee pee because I say you must. Do you have any idea how hard Mommy had to search to find one your size? They don't make them that small! Mommy had to have it made special... for you. A little gratitude is in order I think."

Justin shifted in his seat again, feeling the tight squeeze of the ring and cage around his penis worsen before finding a position less uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry. You're right. Thank you, Mommy."

"That's a good boy," she replied. "You better learn to behave young man. Remember, Mommy has the key."

As she said this, she reached up, grabbing a chain from around her neck that was hidden behind the hair at her shoulders. Pulling it up from inside her shirt, it revealed a small key dangling from the end of it. She smirked, before stuffing it back inside her shirt.

"You're not a grown man, Justin," she said. "You just never grew up like you were supposed to. So, we've had to make some changes around here. Changes you're going to have to get used to. I never wanted it to get to this point, believe me. I wanted a strong, masculine, virile son. Your father and I both did. We did not want a little boy forever. But just like you have to endure your new life, I have to endure mine. So, we make the most of it. Understood?"

"Y... yes Mommy," he said sheepishly, lowering his head in submission to her domineering and authoritative tone.

"You're going to learn your place young man. Don't forget how we got here," she said, before turning back to the sink.

Justin sat, long faced and scolded, trying to remember his life before this. Before the diaper. Before the cage around his cock. Before the powder blue T-shirts and little boy blankets. There was a time when he had something of a normal existence. There was a time when his senior year, as earlier described, seemed to be panning out. It was football, a game he was expressively forbidden to play, that brought him to this point.

**********************

Rewind twelve days. Back to when he wore boxers under his jeans. Back to when he was driving himself to school. Back to when he had friends and a life. Rewind back to the beginning of his senior year, two months after his eighteenth birthday.

Justin had always been girl crazy. Ever since her first noticed them as a boy, he couldn't unnoticed them. One moment, they were invisible. And then suddenly, they were everywhere. Every time he turned around there was another girl he couldn't take his eyes off of. He loved everything about them. He loved their faces. He loved their voices. He loved their smiles and their bodies. Their clothes. Everything. At eighteen, the feelings had only intensified as hormones began to take root.

Every moment of his life was flooded with feelings on angst. Everywhere he looked his mind was accosted with desire and wanton feelings. Feelings he didn't even entirely understand, but the drive was suspiciously strong in him.

All of the boys his age were going through the same cycle. Some boys were luckier than others, scoring girlfriends and indulging in the kinds of behaviors that would make those feelings subside, albeit temporarily. Others weren't so lucky. Others did what they had to do. Justin was an other. Justin went home every day after school, and before he did anything else, he would cum.

Justin had never been with a girl, but the desire to do so was so overwhelming that he would simulate it as often as he could. He would sit on his computer, before his mother got home from work, and browse the social media pages of whatever girl at school caught his eye that day. Before long, he'd be filling a Kleenex.

During these furious, daily masturbation sessions, Justin never noticed anything different about his cock. He'd never seen another one to compare it against. All boys his age were probably using two fingers. That's just how it's done. When it's soft, the head stays close to the body. He'd learned in health class that this was to protect it. Surely, that's what this was. Surely all boys were just a head when their dicks weren't hard. He was no different. Still, he wanted a girlfriend.

"Absolutely not," his mother said, slamming the permission slip down on the breakfast bar.

"Mom!" He exclaimed. "Please! I want to play!"

"What do you know about football?!" She asked with a hint of sarcasm and ridicule in her voice.

Justin knew she was right. He knew it in his bones. He didn't love football. He liked it just fine, but his real motivations weren't for love of the game. They weren't for exercise, a stronger physique or a letterman's jacket. It was girls. All the girls he was crazy about, they all dated football players. The blondes. The brunettes. The red heads. Their perky, firm bodies. Their soft legs. They drove him insane. Football was the key. Something about the jersey made them flock to it like a beacon. It was their siren song. Even if he didn't play, it would put him in "the game". He was willing to do the work. To go to practice. To take the beatings if it meant he'd have a better chance at not having to jerk off alone anymore.

"I love football! What do you mean?! I watch Ohio State every week!"

"Recently," she said. "Up until a few weeks ago, I'd heard no such interest. It's too violent, Justin. No way!"

"Let the boy play, Connie," a manly voice said, entering the room. Justin looked over, meeting his father's eyes and smiling at the support.

"Mike, it's too violent!"

"He's not a kid anymore Con," he replied. "Boys his age are soft these days. You should be glad he wants to get outside instead of sitting on Xbox like every other kid in America."

"I still say it's violent. What if he gets hurt?!"

"He will!" Mike replied. "He should be getting hurt! Stop hovering Connie. Let him play if he wants to play."

Justin's mother reluctantly stepped back up to the slip of paper, grabbing a pen and pressing it to the dotted line.

"Fine," she said, exasperated. "But when you get hurt, I get to say I told you so."

Fast forward to two days later. Justin had turned in the permission slip to the football coach. He didn't say it at the time, but the coach couldn't believe Justin had gotten the thing signed. He was so little. He had some definition, but he was still much smaller than the rest of the players. Permission slip or no, there was no way he was playing on varsity team.

Justin didn't care. This wasn't about competing at the highest level. This was about girls. Plain and simple. So when he ran home to tell his mother he'd made the junior varsity squad, he couldn't have sounded more excited.

"Just try not to get yourself killed," she said with a groan.

"I won't! There're so many pads. It'll be amazing if I even feel a thing. Oh, that reminds me. I need a cup."

"A cup?" she asked, confused.

"Yeah... you know... a cup. For my..."

"Ohhh! That's something you'll have to talk to your father about."

"Dad's away on business Mom! I have my first practice tomorrow! I need to get one today. Can I borrow the car?"

"Justin, no. Just because you have your license doesn't mean you can just take the car whenever you want," she replied.

"I just figured I'd go so you don't have to," he said.

"I have to go out anyway," she replied. "I'll take you to the sporting goods store and you can get one, okay?"

As the automatic doors to the sporting goods outlet slid open, Justin and his mother were met with a gust of cool air and the smell of retail. A cardboard cutout of a famous athlete greeted them as they walked in, encouraging them that there was no better place to spend their money. Justin was so taken in by the atmosphere. Other boys his age were walking this way and that, carrying all manner of sports equipment. Some carried baseball gloves and aluminum bats adorned with the trademark logo of whatever manufacturer made the thing. Another pair of boys were wearing cleats and looking at themselves in neighboring mirrors as if the aesthetics of the shoes was just as important as the function.

"Can I help you guys find anything?" a voice called out.

Justin and his mother turned around to see the smiling face of a beautiful young retail employee standing behind them. Justin's mind began to take in her appearance, the hormones flooding his brain like they'd done so many times before. She was wearing a polo the same colors as the stores trademark and a pair of jeans as well as a name tag that read Jocelyn. Her jeans were tight, hugging a youthful frame indicating that she was at least Justin's age, if not slightly older. The polo was stretched at the chest forming three lines between the girl's obviously perky breasts.

Justin's interest peaked before he remembered what they were there to buy. Embarrassment suddenly filled every inch of his body as every instinct inside him told him to deflect her question and continue the hunt on his own. Unfortunately, his mother, unburdened by his hormonal thoughts, spoke first.

"Oh, thank goodness,' she said. "Yes, you can. We're new to this, admittedly. My son wants to play football and needs a cup."

"Mom!" Justin groaned.

"What? That's why we're here isn't it?" she asked rhetorically.

"I can find it on my own," he replied, annoyance in his tone.

"Nonsense," she said, with a twinge of spite in her voice. "She works here. Who better to show us than her?"

"Your mom's right," the girl replied. "It's really no problem at all. Right this way."

The girl walked past Justin and his mother, leading the way down various aisles and past various displays. Justin was stewing inside but at least he'd be able to find what he was looking for faster and dismiss the girl quickly. He was so focused on what was going on internally, that he failed to notice the smirk on his mother's face. She wasn't pleased that the decision for him to play football had not gone her way. She intended to make it as unpleasant for her son as it was for her.

"Here we are. This whole aisle is athletic supporters. Products for lower ages are at the far end. What you'll need will mostly be in this section I should think," she said, motioning toward the high school and college aged equipment.

"Thank you so much," Justin said, polite but dismissively.

"Let me know if you need anything! I'll be right over here."

"She was nice. And pretty too. Don't you think?" Justin's mother asked.

"What? Yeah, I mean, sure. This should work," Justin said, grabbing a cup aged 18+ and heading for the front.

"What are you doing?" his mother asked. "Aren't you going to try it on?"

"Try it on?" Justin asked, embarrassed. "It's a cup mom. I don't think you try them on."

"That's ridiculous. Miss?"

"MOM!" Justin wrenched, but he was too late.

"Yes ma'am," the bubbly employee said bouncing back over to help.

"My son needs to try this on to make sure it fits. Is that okay?"

"Well, not the ones in the box I'm afraid," she said.

"See? I told you. Now let's just get this one and..." Justin said before being interrupted.

"But we do have some disposable ones. They're designed for single use measurements and then we discard them. They're exact replicas of the ones we have on our shelves," she said before taking the box gently out of Justin's hands and analyzing it. She did a quick look at Justin, eyeing him up and down then looking back at the box. "THIS is the one you want?"

"Yeah. It says 18+ and that's me so," Justin said, slightly annoyed at the obvious question of his age.

"Oh... okay! I'll be right back!"

"What was that about?" his mother asked.

"What?"

'The attitude," she replied. 'The nice girl was just trying to help."

"The one I picked out was fine. She doesn't even need to be here," Justin replied.

"Okay! Got it. I also got the 15+ one. I know it probably won't fit but I grabbed it just in case. If the one you picked fits, you won't even need this one," the girl replied.

"Why did you...," Justin started, but cut himself off with a shake of his head. "Forget it. Just give me the one I picked please."

"I'll hold on to the other one. Thank you, Miss," his mother replied.

"No problem! Holler if you need anything else," she said, before walking away.

Justin stepped into the dressing room, closing the door behind him and dropping the cup and strap on the small bench in the corner. He dropped his pants and underwear, kicking them into the corner before sliding his legs into the spandex strap. He pulled it up to his waist, feeling how tight it was, tucked up underneath his butt. The straps rode up and under his legs to the front. The pouch where the cup was supposed to go was baggy and loose. Justin naively brushed this off, taking the single use cup and sliding it into the pouch.