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This is the final chapter of this story

Chapter 8 - Regression and Reinforcement

Soon after Ron's first – but most definitely not his last – night being cucked by Kim, he abandoned his dorm and moved his things into a spare room Kim had for him. Kim made sure to adorn it with many babyish decorations and lots of pastel pink things, to cement in Ron's mind his new place in life. From his new room, Ron could also hear any ... activities that were going on between Kim and other men in her room, in the event that Ron was not actively watching the deed being done. However, he usually was watching. Kim made sure of it.

Several months came and went, and they brought amazing changes to Ron's body and mind.

Ron was never out of diapers anymore. It was quite an adjustment – he had never considered how much time constantly changing his diaper (or having Kim change his diaper) would consume. Keeping his supplies on hand and finding private bathrooms wherever he went was an interesting new challenge. But, as Kim said, "When you potty your pants like a baby, you wear diapers like a baby."

Ron continued to have accidents in his Pampers with increasing frequency, which demoralized him and caused him to attempt to make it to the bathroom less frequently. As a result, Ron's bladder had grown even smaller, His urethral sphincters atrophied from being relaxed and unused indefinitely. In Ron's mind, awareness of how full his bladder is or whether he needed to go had faded gradually from his mind, as relieving himself became less and less of an issue he had control over.

He felt more helpless and juvenile than he ever had before and had almost forgotten that life used to be any different over time. And after months of Kim wrapping him in pink diapers and making him wear frilly dresses at the house, his sense of masculinity had been replaced with one of femininity, of gentleness and sensuality. He was still loath to admit it, but there was something ... alluring about it all.

Nowadays, Ron constantly trickled pee into his thick, thirsty Pampers constantly, often without even realizing he was doing it. Sometimes, Kim would reach down to feel the front of his diaper, and tease him about how wet he was, and Ron would look up in shock, never having noticed his own humiliating accidents.

His bladder control, of course, was not the only thing that had regressed. Once or twice a day, Ron would be startled by the humbling realization that he had begun emptying the contents of his bowels into the seat of his diapers, without even realizing he had begun doing so. He would only notice as he felt his pampers grow heavy and the mush building up against his rear. If he was not at home, this would mean immediately fleeing to a nearby restroom. At home, however, Kim would often go to great lengths to prolong his disgrace, including making him sit in the mess he'd made. "You pooped your pants, so now you can sit in it!" she would say tauntingly. Ron was ashamed to admit to himself that these moments were arousing for him.

Kim had been right. She had completely required his brain to sexualize his failures. His inadequate manhood, his mortifying incontinence, his new status as a cuckold – all these things were arousing to him, and they were constantly on his mind. He only ever came in his diapers now – partially because he was always in them, and partially because he was a cuck and Kim only ever let him cum in them. But he thought about his diapers as often now as he used to think about seducing Kim and having his way with her. He was now completely and irreversibly diaper-brained.

Kim had a pink, glittery vibrator wand at home that she often used to force Ron to have an orgasm in his diaper after he had filled it, no matter what he had been doing. As a result, Ron was cumming his damp and messy diapers on a constant basis. The time it took Kim to bring Ron to climax was becoming shorter and shorter. His puny discharges became smaller and weaker as his balls were continuously emptied into his Pampers.

Ron was being forced to sissygasm in his diapers so frequently throughout the day, that his erections had become softer and weaker over time, and getting it up had became more and more difficult. At this point, he was essentially cumming his Pampers limp all the time, because he just didn't have it in him to het it up, no matter how aroused he was. It was just one more shadow of his former masculinity that was fading away. Kim had taken notice of the fact that he was permanently soft now, and began calling him her "sweet little limp-dicked loser." His manhood was gone. Just like his bowel control.

While these days he usually couldn't tell before he was about to have an accident, there were sometimes exceptions.

Kim was driving them both back home from the university after their long day of classes. Kim was humming to something on the stereo that Ron didn't recognize and didn't care for, and Ron was lazily looking out the window. He had miraculously kept his diaper dry since Kim had changed him after lunch.

Had kept himself dry. As the stereo switched songs and a speed bump jolted Ron out of his reverie, a quiet psssssss broke the silence between tunes. Kim snorted with amusement and gave the front of Ron's diaper a patronizing pat with one hand. Ron pouted in the passenger seat, his lower lip quivering slightly.

Then his eyes widened as he noticed a tell-tale pang from deep within his stomach. He summoned the courage to speak up. "U- uuum, Kim? I'm about to have an accident. Could you please pull over so I can go to the bathroom?"

She smirked. "Don't you mean 'so I can go potty?'" She asked in a mocking tone.

"Y- yes, mommy. Please pull over, 'cause I have to go potty."

"Silly little beta boy, you already went potty in your widdle Pampers. Awww, did you not notice again?"

"No!" Ron blurted, turning beet red. "I know I wet myself just now, but that's not what I mean. I have to poop, and if you don't pull over I'm gonna have another accident."

"Ohhhhhhh, is that it?" Kim said knowingly. She casually glanced sideways at Ron and bluntly ordered, "Go in your pants, bitch."

"W- what?" Ron said. He couldn't blush any more than he already was. "B- but I know I have to go. There's a bathroom right there, if you just-"

"Did I stutter, little bitchboy?" Kim cut in decisively. "You wear diapers for a reason. If you're such a toddler that you can't hold your bowels for the 10 minutes it takes to get home, then you don't deserve to use the potty like a big boy. You're not a big boy." She affected her mocking tone again. "You're a widdle poopy-pants diaper baby."

Ron quivered and writhed in his seat, desperately trying to hold on to his last ounce of dignity against all odds.

Kim's even gaze never left the road. "You've already pissed your widdle Pampers like the big baby you are. So what's the difference? You mind as well poop your Pamps too. You're gonna need your mommy to change your diapee when you get home either way. Stop pretending to be a big boy, because you're clearly not. If you like going potty in your diapers so much, you mind as well keep doing it." She glanced at him again and curtly repeated, "Go in your pants, bitch."

Ron looked away and tried to suffer through the building urges for a brief moment more. But his will to fight the urges had been broken by the dressing-down Kim had given him, and he decided to stop fighting and do as he was told. With tears in his eyes and a howl of anguish and dismay, he lifted himself slightly off the seat and started to push.

With a loud bluuuuuurt of flatulence Ron pushed a massive, steaming mess into the seat of his Pampers. The warm mess spread underneath him as his diaper expanded significantly. He kept filling his diaper as much as he could until he couldn't anymore. His diaper was completely packed. With a sobbing gasp of relief, Ron shuddered and sat himself back into his seat. He couldn't help but let out a quiet trill of satisfaction as he sank his butt into his own mess, even as tears continued streaming from his eyes.

"There," Kim said. "See? You try to pretend, but I know full well that you like it."

After they had entered the apartment, Ron's tears stopped but his face remained flush. He knew the drill, and despite his dismay he was teeming with anticipation. Whenever Ron debased himself like this by soiling himself, Kim would make sure to ... stimulate him afterwards. She called it "positive reinforcement." Whatever it was, Ron's brain had been rewired to experience arousal and horniness after he had messed his pants.

But while Kim did immediately tow him into her room, she sat him on the bed more gently than usual. She did not immediately walk over to the drawer and pull out the pink, glittery vibrator wand she typically used to reward him for soiling himself or for being a good cuckold. Instead she looked down at him steadily, until at last she began to speak.

"I have news for you, Ron. I took a test the other day. It was positive. I'm pregnant. My bull impregnated me."