Virtue (Diaper cult story)

Virtue follows the lives of several women raised in a restrictive cult which forces it’s female members to wear and use diapers. Some characters resist this form of control, some embrace it, and others seek to use it to their advantage. 18+ only please.

This story will contain elements of coercion, brainwashing, and misogyny. There will be no incest but there will be family dynamics that would be reprehensible in real life. If looking for something lighter and more realistic, try Delilah.

The first two chapters of this story are public, further updates will be posted on my patreon. I’m also on tumblr.

All characters are over 18.


Hannah stood in the kitchen, her hands in the warm dish water, watching the sparrows outside bathing in the puddles from yesterday’s rain.

Hannah shifted her legs as she reached for the dish soap. Her heavy cloth night diaper sagged between her legs, straining her frosted plastic pants. The skirt of her faded blue gingham dress swished over the plastic as she moved.

At the sound of a loud slap behind her, Hannah started and looked over her shoulder, a burst of urine dribbling into her diaper as she did so. Her mother, Michelle, had just plopped a large wad of bread dough on the table and was kneading it aggressively.

Hannah watched her admiringly, envying her mother’s confidence and skill in the kitchen. She knew that in her mother, she was looking at her future. Michelle was middle aged, pudgy, and had a tired but attractive face. Her dark curly hair was pulled back in a bun and she worked the dough with the shapely arms and strong hands of a woman used to hard labour.

Michelle’s diaper, the outline of which was clearly visible against the back of her dress, looked heavier than her own. Unlike Hannah, her mother had a distinct waddle as she moved around the kitchen. However, Hannah still thought that Michelle’s large diaper looked less out of place on her matronly figure than on her own girlish hips.

Hannah greatly admired her mother’s humble strength in the many sacrifices she had made for her family. She was thankful that for her, everything would be easier than it had been for her mother. She had had the privilege to be raised correctly from the start, whereas her mother had had to relearn everything about a virtuous life when she met Hannah’s father.

Looking up from working the dough to see Hannah watching her, Michelle directed a single pointed look back at the dishes.

Hannah blushed and picked up a spatula, feeling herself softly pass gas into her diaper as she did so. One good thing about getting up early to help mom in the kitchen was that it gave her bowels a chance to move before her morning diaper change. The downside, of course, was having to spend more time awake in her much thicker night diaper.

Hannah picked up a bowl with a pattern of soft pink flowers around the rim and dipped her dishrag into the soapy water. Truthfully, Hannah did have a tiny secret, and one that made her blush with guilt to think of.

She knew very well that it wasn’t appropriate for women to hold their waste, but she had been secretly practising influencing when she used her diaper. Too often, her body chose to go only after she had been changed into the diaper she would spend the rest of the day in. Hannah had slowly learned that with a little effort, she could dirty her diaper before her morning change and therefore spend most of the afternoon in a cleaner diaper.

She’d never been explicitly told it was wrong, but she couldn’t imagine it was something a truly good and virtuous girl would do. Nonetheless, it gave her the tiniest thrill to exert this little bit of control over her life, and to privately know that at least some of her innocent feminine accidents were intentional.

As she felt the pressure building in her bowels, she knew that she needed to act now before the urge passed. Feeling herself flushing with excitement and embarrassment, Hannah spread her legs slightly and tried to push. She braced her small hands on the edge of the sink and leaned forward, unable to concentrate on pretending to wash a dish as she pushed.

Hannah stifled a little gasp as she felt a unexpectedly large and mushy mess slide into her diaper. Hannah beamed even through the familiar shame she always felt after using her diapers. That was so easy! She tried to casually smooth down the back of her skirt, feeling the slight bulge of her mess under her plastic pants.

Sheepishly, Hannah’s gaze darted back over to her mother to check if she’d noticed.

Michelle’s only indication that she was aware her daughter had filled her diaper was an expressionless glance at Hannah’s bottom. She continued dividing the dough for buns without comment.

Hannah turned back to the dishes, looking at her reflection in a large soup spoon. Only 19, she was sweetly and delicately beautiful, with a heart-shaped face, large expressive brown eyes, and a constellation of freckles across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. Her light brown hair was braided in a single thick plait and her bangs, which she had been growing out, were tucked behind her ears.

Hannah placed the spoon in the dish rack and began picking at the dried dough along the edge of a mixing bowl. She knew that of course, under no circumstances would her mom say anything negative about her dirty diaper. Her mother had always made it very clear that it was one thing for the boys to tease their sisters about their full diapers, but for the girls to do it to each other was nothing but catty meanness. Still, she felt reassured that her mom hadn’t noticed anything unusual about her accident.

She wondered if her mother ever experimented with maintaining control over her body in this way. She couldn’t imagine that her mother would ever think of such a thing. She did wonder about her older sisters, who certainly didn’t have all the respect for themselves that they ought too-

“Are you quite done with those dishes, Hannah?”

Hannah’s head shot back up at this subtle rebuke. She looked back over her shoulder at her mother.

Michelle gestured with a flour covered hand to the dining room. “Can you set the table please?” Her voice was incredibly controlled and betrayed only the slightest sign that her limited supply of patience was wearing.

Hannah nodded and wiped her hands on a dish towel. Grabbing a handful of cutlery, she made her way over to the table. As accustomed to it as she was, her full diaper still interrupted her natural grace. She felt awkward and infantile, especially after receiving a tiny reprimand from her mother for dilly-dallying.

Hannah carefully set the table and straightened the floral table runner. As she looked up, she was dazzled by the morning sun shining through the dinning room windows. Outside, the pear trees in the yard were just coming into bloom. Beyond them and only just visible from the window, her and her sister’s diapers were drying on the clothesline.

Hannah sat down on the low window ledge, entranced by the birds that were flitting around the pear blossoms. Her diaper squished uncomfortably under her, her mess mushing upwards into the front of her diaper and pressing against her vulva.

Hannah smiled, knowing that it was a sign that she was loved and protected. She knew that she was truly blessed.


This will (probably) be the last public chapter, further updates will be patreon exclusives.

(ab/dl, diaper messing, lactation, brainwashing)


Michelle shifted her weight as she poured water into the large pot. It was not even 8:00 am and already she desperately wanted to get off her feet. Her wide hips ached from the weight of her diaper and she was beginning to itch.

She rubbed her chest with one hand. Her breasts, heavy with milk, were starting to drip into her bra.

Urine spurted into her diaper as Michelle set the pot on the stove. The burner clicked twice, and ignited.

Michelle’s husband had been out of town for three days now, and her daughters, Leah and Abigail, had been feeding the cows on their own. The girls were now 24 and 22 respectively, but Michelle still doubted their ability to get their chores done before either her diaper or her breasts leaked all over the floor.

She opened one of the white kitchen cabinets that flanked her stove and pulled out the canister of rolled oats. It was empty except for a few forlorn oats dusted across the glass bottom.

Typical, she thought. Just like these girls to empty it and not even think to refill it.

After years of rigorous diaper training, Michelle was now fully incontinent. The two booster pads she required in her night diaper forced her to waddle on her way over to get the bag of oats out of the walk-in pantry. As she rounded the island in the centre of the farmhouse kitchen, she checked to see if the table was set. It was not. Hannah had scattered some cutlery around and moved onto more important things.

“Hannah?” Michelle said with measured restraint. “Finish setting this table please.”

“Oh!” Hannah jumped up from her perch on the windowsill, blushing and looking down at her hands. “Sorry.” She rushed over to get the bowls and glasses out of the cupboard, her plastic pants rustling under her dress.

Behind Hannah’s back, Michelle rolled her eyes. She stepped into the pantry.

Hannah’s mind was always, always on something other than her work. Sometimes, in her less charitable moments, Michelle thought it was on nothing at all. So much for all the “grounding” effects of diapers she’d heard so much about.

Michelle still bitterly missed her eldest daughter, Rebecca, who was capable and obedient and had been a tremendous help to her mother while she was at home. Not like these three she was left with now.

I must remember to try call her later, Michelle thought, if I want to see her for the wedding.

Rebecca had moved away several years ago after her husband had taken a job outside of their isolated community. Michelle had not seen her since, and only spoke to her on the phone occasionally. Michelle had struggled with letting her go, but she trusted Rebecca to remain diapered and obedient, even living in the outside world.

Now out of sight of Hannah, Michelle hooked a hand under her dress and adjusted her diaper. She ran a finger under her plastic pants to scratch herself. The elastic leg gathers were pressing into her thighs and irritating her skin.

The smell of her wet diaper stayed on her fingers as she pulled her hand away. That ammonia, cat-pee smell that used to embarrass her so much. Now it permanently hung around her crotch. She’d done her best to make her peace with it.

Michelle massaged her full breasts. A jet of milk spurted into her bra. She wasn’t hurting yet, but if those girls took much longer she was going to have to either pump or make Hannah nurse for all three of them.

A bloom of warmth spread throughout her diaper as she squatted to pick up the large bag of oats. She paused, letting herself finish peeing. The sound of her piss hitting the cloth was audible even over Hannah clattering dishes in the dinning room.

She pressed a hand against the warm plastic, checking that she wasn’t leaking. Not that she could do anything about it if she was. It wouldn’t be the first time she had been forced to cook breakfast with piss dripping down her legs.

Michelle no longer felt shame or disgust about using her diaper, as she had when she was Hannah’s age. Not that she would ever tell her daughters that. She’d made sure to impress on them that diapers were meant to be humbling and shameful (and that this was really a gift that they should be thankful for, of course, since it helped guide their behaviour as women).

But truthfully, the days of burning with humiliation at every wet and dirty diaper were long past her now. Michelle had been in diapers for over thirty years. More than half her life. Far too long to really believe that soiling herself was anything more than an uncomfortable inconvenience.

The fridge door banged shut as Michelle waddled back into the kitchen with the oats. Hannah emerged from behind it with a carton of orange juice in each hand. The purple box of laxative packets was on the counter beside her.

Oh, good girl, Michelle thought to herself. She remembered this time.

“When you’re done with that,” The bag of oats puffed fine dust out on to the countertop as Michelle slammed it down. “Shake out the rugs and sweep this floor please.”

Hannah nodded. She squeezed past her mom with the juice, the box of laxatives tucked under one arm. The smell of her dirty diaper trailed after her.

Scooping the oats out of the bag with a measuring cup, Michelle began pouring it into the boiling water. She farted loudly and wetly into her diaper as she set the cup down and reached for a mixing spoon.

Hannah, who was lining up the cartons of juice on the table, threw up her head like a startled deer to stare at Michelle’s butt, her ears practically pricked up.

Michelle sighed. For all her apparent innocence, Hannah was one of those nosey girls who just had to know what was going on in everyone else’s diaper at all times. Always had been.

When Michelle was younger and still adjusting to her own diaper training, it used to embarrass her terribly when her daughter would loudly ask what mommy had done in her diaper. Now it only irritated her.

“No, Hannah, I didn’t.” Michelle looked through the steam at Hannah, replying to her unasked question. “Worry about your own diaper, please.”


“Get those rugs picked up, please.”

Hannah nodded. She bent to pick up the rug by the table, her dress swishing over the bulge of her diaper.

Shaking her head, Michelle turned back to her oatmeal.

Hannah brushed past her mom on her way out the door with the rugs. The smell of her diaper was much more pungent and Michelle wondered if she’d used it again. She’d still have to wait until after breakfast, if she had.

The door clicked shut behind her.

Michelle listened for the soft thumps that would tell her that Hannah was beating the rugs out and not daydreaming. After a few seconds, she heard it. The dust plumed out over the driveway.

Michelle stirred the oatmeal. She pulled the brown sugar and cinnamon out of the cabinet to her right.

At least she knew Hannah would always be a good girl. She had always been polite and shy, and other than her unladylike fascination with other people’s diapers, was a very sweet and inoffensive girl. And unlike her sisters, who had all gone through rebellious phases, Hannah had never offered a moment’s resistance to being kept in diapers.

Michelle had been deeply ashamed to have to explain to her four daughters that yes, really, there had once been a time when she thought it was her right to use a toilet. Yes, just like boys did. No, she hadn’t known it was wrong. Yes, she had even wiped herself. No, she hadn’t found it gross, unfeminine, undignified. She just didn’t know any better. That was just what the world was like, outside their safe little community of Virtue. She had not been lucky and privileged, as they were. And weren’t they glad to live here, now that they knew that?

Although Michelle was a little jealous of her daughters for not having to go through diaper training, she was thankful that they would never live the kind of sinful, virtueless life that she had once led. They would all make innocent virginal brides, who would not need to be diaper trained or shown their place by their husbands. Already, they all knew exactly the right way for a woman to behave.

Michelle tapped her wooden spoon on the side of the pot, placed it on her spoon rest. Turning away from the stove, Michelle went to refill the canister of oats.

Right as she hoisted the bag and started to pour, she felt it. She farted again, and then her body opened and a firm mess parted her cheeks. It stopped half inside her, trapped by the pressure of her diaper. Michelle spread her legs and tilted her hips, jiggling her the heavy cloth to make room. The rest of her poop, solid and massive, piled into the seat of her diaper.

Michelle sighed as she screwed the lid back on the canister. She could already smell herself. Well, better to get it over with now instead of after she was changed. Still, she wasn’t looking forward to sitting down in this to eat.

She turned to place the canister back in the cabinet. Catching her reflection in her oven door, she could see that her diaper was pushed out in a triangular bulge that was unmistakable even through her dress.

The door opened and Hannah stepped back in, the broom in her hand. She put a delicate hand up to cover her nose and, leaning around the kitchen island to get a better look, stared intently at Michelle’s diaper.

“Yes,” Michelle rolled her eyes. “Yes, Hannah, I did.”


Chapter 3 is up on patreon!

I’m posting the first quarter of this chapter publicly, the rest is currently available for patrons only. I don’t love putting my writing behind a paywall, so this entire story will eventually become public, but probably not for some time. When that happens, the rest of the chapter will also be posted in this thread.

If you want to and are able to support me, it enables me to spend more time on this and other writing projects. :slight_smile:


Leah climbed the fence into the horse pasture, the stall cleaning fork in one hand. Her diaper squished against her crotch as she swung a leg over the top rail.

Gripping the fence with her legs, she paused and looked toward the small rise where the shed stood, giving herself a second to back out of her plan. The warm spring wind blew her hair - dirty blonde, and coming loose from its ponytail - around her face.

She glanced back towards the cow barn, checking to make sure her sister Abigail was still busy inside.

Her heart was pounding.

This wasn’t her first time. Hell, it wasn’t even the first time this week. Maybe one day, she thought, this wouldn’t scare the hell out of her.

There was no sign of Abigail. The other girl had only been halfway done cleaning her side of the barn when she left. Leah would have maybe ten minutes. She could do that.

She pulled her other leg over and jumped down on the other side, careful not to bang the handle of the fork on the fence. The mud sucked at her gumboots. God, the barnyard stunk this time of year. Which suited her purposes just fine.

Leah had been holding since she woke up. Not pee, of course, since she knew that was still beyond her. But with considerable effort, she had been able to keep from messing herself. She’d rushed through her chores, sweating and cramping, hoping to get a few minutes alone before breakfast. By the time she left the barn, the cramping had slowed to a uncomfortable fullness in her tummy and holding was no longer an active struggle. Leah was sure this was a sign that she was learning quickly.

She squished through the mud, heading for the small rise where the shed stood. Her blue workman’s overalls felt tight around her hips and her butt as she walked. Although she was tall and thin, the bulk of her diaper made her look pear shaped.

Even though they were the only reasonable attire for working with cattle, Leah hated the overalls. She did not appreciate the way the way they pressed her diaper against her, and they were not flattering. She knew that she should be grateful that her parents let the girls wear pants of any kind, since most families in Virtue considered them too masculine and immodest for women. But honestly, she was almost inclined to agree. At least a skirt didn’t put her diaper on display.

Not that Leah was overly concerned about what anyone in Virtue thought about anything. Because Leah was going to get out.

Thanks for the interest and support so far!


All the cults in all the world, and not one of them has adults diaper. Shame :disappointed:

Fun story :slight_smile:

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Thank you! :slight_smile:

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What Michele the mother doesn’t count as an adult. Oh, yeah did you miss the part about ALL three of her daughters still having to nurse from mom too.

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Ok maybe I did miss something, I interpreted it as people who were actually adults but treated as babies as part of the cult.

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Good stuff. This is a neat concept I never really saw a lot of. You’re doing pretty good with this one.

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You were correct lol, the youngest character is 19 and Michelle is in her 50s. But whether or not they “count” as adults is up to the reader’s personal interpretation :slight_smile:



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yes thats what I figured lol