Be Prepared! (Patreon)

Something to tide you guys over while we finish up what's next with the Barkdale boys.

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“Simba, aren’t you getting a little too old for this kind of thing?” 

“I guess so. I’m trying, but…” All the prince could do was smile sheepishly, laid down on his back with his pants around his ankles, and a thoroughly soaked diaper in full view of his regal uncle. “Sorry, Uncle Scar.” 

“Now, I suppose it can’t be helped.” He proclaimed with a dramatic sigh, the older lion looking put upon, reaching into the diaper bag that had been packed by his brother, removing the requisite supplies for changing a Prince’s wet diaper. “You will behave for your favorite uncle, now won’t you?” 

“Y-Yeah, of course.”

Scar worked deftly, surprisingly so, considering his distaste for the entire ordeal. Dexterous fingers unwrapped the swollen diaper from around his nephew’s waist, and lifted him by the ankles. Simba shivered a little; Scar’s grip wasn’t quite as powerful as his father, but feeling his knees pushed back towards his chest, his polo shoes in the air and his butt pointed upward, he was equally thrilled by the process.

“You must take after your father with all of this. I was out of them much earlier than he was.” Uncle Scar lamented, looking down at his nephew, held like a baby by the ankles while the older lion wiped the curves of his bottom clean. “It seems to run on his end of the gene pool.” 

“T-That’s not the way Dad tells it, Uncle Scar…” Simba, red-faced and a little squirmy, unable to keep from kicking his feet in his uncle’s grip as baby wipes and firm hands played over his most sensitive areas. He was getting hard, as well; he couldn’t help it. “He said y-“

“Oh, what does he know—” Disposing of the baby wipes in Simba’s wet diaper, Scar dismissed the comment with an aristocratic wave of his newly free hand, eager to move on from the topic of conversation. Simba’s diaper was pulled from under his hips, prompting the prince to wiggle his butt and squirm some more, and smoothly replace with another. “Now, be still, young prince. It wouldn’t do to have your diaper leak during your father’s speech, now would it?” 

“No, Uncle Scar…” Simba did his best to be still, despite his erection being almost pinned against his belly by this point, more than conscious of the way that all his most intimate parts were on full display to his somewhat sinister Uncle. 

“That’s a good lad…” He babytalked the grown prince, dusting him with baby powder before lowering his backside into the familiar confines of a fresh diaper. Scar carefully wrapped Simba up and diapered him, taping each side at the hip before giving him a pat between his legs. 

“You take a minute to get yourself… collected, my boy.” As he spoke, he was helping Simba back to his feet, pulling his pants back into place over his fresh diaper, and refastening his belt around his hips. A hand lingered tantalizingly long on the curve of his bulky backside, the plastic underneath crinkling audibly. “Your father will be waiting.”