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Mommies and Daddies
For the grown-ups to discuss ABDL topics. No babies unless you're looking for a 'pankin!
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Early meal today, a belted birthday BBQ of pulled pork, sausage, baked beans, mac and cheese and potatoe salad. -
The Lullaby Effect A brilliant girl builds a time machine to give her mother a hypnosis CD meant to humble her annoying brother—only to discover that the peace it brings was meant for her all along. Chapter 1: The Genius and the CD The first time Maya built a time machine, it was for revenge. Not the grand, world-altering kind. Just the petty, vicious, sibling kind—the kind that had been simmering inside her for as long as she could remember. It started the day Sam discovered that hiding her favorite stuffed rabbit was the fastest way to make her scream. From there it only grew. Wet towels left on the bathroom floor for her to step on. The empty cereal box returned to the cupboard. The channel changed right at the climax of her favorite show. Those were just warm-ups. The real cruelty was quieter, sharper. “Maya the Baby,” he’d whisper at the dinner table, loud enough for their parents to chuckle but soft enough that only she felt the sting. He said it at family gatherings. Once, he said it in front of her entire class. Her parents called it teasing. Maya burned with humiliated rage. By the time Sam turned seventeen, he had perfected the art: a perfectly timed smirk, a whispered jab as she passed in the hallway, a casual remark that lodged in her brain and spun for hours. He knew exactly where her weaknesses lived—inside the endless loops of her own mind. Because Maya was a genius. While Sam coasted on charm and easy smiles, she built functioning robots from scrap parts and taught herself calculus at twelve. At fifteen, she had finished calibrating a temporal displacement array assembled from a salvaged microwave, stolen physics textbooks, and sheer, sleepless determination. Her bedroom had long since become a laboratory with a bed shoved into one corner. Equations covered the walls. The air smelled permanently of solder and burnt ambition. The real work happened in the garage, where larger components waited like sleeping giants. Her mother had stopped asking questions years ago. Being a genius was exhausting. Her mind never powered down. It raced through every conversation, every social cue, every possible consequence. Did I say the wrong thing? What did that look mean? What if he’s planning something worse? The questions multiplied in the dark while Sam snored peacefully down the hall. The loops tightened until she couldn’t breathe. Some nights, lying rigid in bed, she wished she could simply turn her brain off. Let someone else carry the worry. Let someone else decide. Just for one night. If Sam wanted to treat her like a baby, she would give him a reason to become one himself. She spent weeks perfecting the CD, working deep into the silent hours after the house went to sleep. She researched hypnotic suggestions, studied sleep patterns, and calculated the exact frequencies needed to bypass conscious resistance. The result was no ordinary lullaby. It was a shimmering, ethereal composition layered with carefully engineered subliminals. Crucially, she encoded the suggestions on a frequency above 19,000 hertz—a pitch adults over twenty could no longer hear, but young children perceived with crystalline clarity. Her mother would never notice. But two-year-old Sam? His developing brain would drink in every word. The first embedded message ensured the disc would never be forgotten and its melody would feel irresistible: You love to listen to this music. You want to hear it every night. It makes you happy. Then came the others, layered with surgical precision: Big kid underwear feels uncomfortable. You feel safe in diapers at night. You need diapers for sleeping. Nighttime wetting feels natural. Diapers are comfortable for bed. You belong in diapers when you sleep. Almost as an afterthought, she added one more: Your mother knows what’s best for you. Always trust your mother. What your mother says is true. You don’t need to worry—Mommy will handle everything. She tested the disc on herself first, headphones pressed tight against her ears. The music washed over her—soft, insidious, strangely soothing. For a few brief minutes her racing thoughts slowed and the tension in her shoulders eased. The static in her head went quiet. But that was all. The suggestions slid off her like water on glass. Her analytical mind remained a fortress—too rigid, too fortified by years of logic to be rewritten by a simple audio track. She removed the headphones and whispered to the empty room, “It’s because I’m fifteen.” Her neural pathways were already hardened. Resistant. But for a toddler? For a two-year-old whose brain was still soft clay and whose pristine ears could absorb the signal at full strength? The rewrite would be absolute. She smiled, a cold, satisfied curve of her lips, and tucked the single silver disc into her backpack. Then she stepped toward the displacement array. Chapter 2: The Babysitter from the Future The transition was less like a leap and more like a sickening lurch. One moment Maya stood in her darkened bedroom, the air thick with the scent of solder and ozone. The next, reality tore open with a nauseating twist, spitting her out onto sun-warmed concrete. Humidity wrapped around her like a damp blanket, and she staggered, catching herself against a familiar mailbox. She smoothed down her thrift-store clothes—low-rise jeans, a simple baby-tee, her hair loose and unremarkable. She was “Ellie” now, just another helpful teenager from a few blocks over. Invisible. Forgettable. In her backpack, the silver disc rested in its jewel case, heavier than it had any right to be. The neighborhood looked softer, younger. Trees stood smaller, their leaves brighter. The house she approached was painted a cheerful cream instead of the weathered gray she remembered, and the flower beds her mother would later tend with her were still bare soil. From the open living room window came the unmistakable sound of a toddler’s high-pitched, rhythmic screaming. Sam. At nearly two years old, he was already ruling the household with tiny fists and lungs of steel. Maya’s stomach tightened as she stepped onto the porch and knocked. A moment later, the door swung open to reveal her mother—Sarah—younger than Maya had ever known her. Barely into her thirties, with fewer worry lines and eyes still bright despite the exhaustion etched across her face. Her hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail, and dark circles shadowed her eyes. One hand rested protectively over the slight curve of her belly. That’s me, Maya thought, a wave of vertigo slamming into her. I’m inside there right now. Growing. “Yes?” Sarah’s voice hovered on the edge of tears. Behind her, baby Sam sat purple-faced in his high chair, hurling handfuls of mushy peas at the wall. The kitchen looked like a war zone—splattered food, overturned cups, and the sharp smell of frustration hanging in the air. “Hi! I’m Ellie. I just moved in a few streets over and heard you might need a hand?” Maya forced brightness into her voice, masking the cold purpose beneath it. Sarah sagged with visible relief. “I… I wasn’t expecting anyone, but maybe I should have been.” She gestured weakly at the chaos. “This one hasn’t napped properly in weeks. And with the new baby coming…” Her hand drifted unconsciously over her stomach. “I’m just at my wit’s end.” Maya couldn’t stop staring at the gentle swell beneath her mother’s shirt. Somewhere in there, cells were dividing, a tiny heart forming—the beginning of the girl who would one day build a time machine and return to this exact moment. The irony tasted metallic on her tongue. “Actually, I have something that might help,” Maya said, reaching into her bag. She pulled out the silver disc. “It’s a neuro-acoustic track. My uncle works in developmental therapy. It’s more than just a lullaby—it calms tantrums, improves sleep, and creates real peace. Long-term.” Sarah’s eyes widened with desperate hope. “Does it really work?” “Watch.” Maya crossed to the bulky silver CD player on the entertainment center. She slid the disc into the tray, pressed play, and stepped back. The music that filled the room was soft and shimmering—an ethereal melody that seemed to vibrate just beneath conscious thought. It wrapped around the chaos like silk. Within seconds, Sam’s screaming cut off mid-wail. He froze, pea still clutched in his chubby fist, his face draining from purple to pink to serene. His eyes glazed over, his little chest rising and falling in time with the tempo. The tension melted from his body. The pea dropped forgotten to the floor. Sarah gasped, one hand flying to her mouth. “How… what is that?” “Just science,” Maya said quietly. She watched her brother’s slack, peaceful expression and felt a flicker—not triumph, but something colder. A shadow of doubt she hadn’t anticipated. She turned to her mother. “You can keep it. This is the only copy of this specific mix. Play it every night for the best results. It helps with sleep, behavior… with everything.” Sarah took the jewel case with trembling fingers, gazing at the disc like a lifeline. “I can’t thank you enough, Ellie. Truly. If this can give us even one peaceful night before the baby comes, I don’t know what I’d do without it.” Maya glanced once more at her mother’s pregnant belly. The girl growing inside would one day weaponize that same music against her brother. Or so she had planned. “You won’t have to worry at all,” Maya said, her voice thickening unexpectedly. “The CD will take care of everything. It’ll make him very… manageable.” Sarah reached out and squeezed her hand gratefully. “Thank you. Really. I don’t know what I would have done.” Maya pulled away gently, backing toward the door. “It’s nothing. Just… play it every night. Consistency matters.” “Every night,” Sarah repeated, nodding firmly. “I promise.” Maya stepped off the porch into the heavy summer heat. Behind her, the music continued—soft, insidious, already weaving itself into the walls of the house. She could hear Sam’s breathing, slow and even for the first time in weeks. As she walked down the sidewalk, past the bare flower beds and smaller trees, the timeline seemed to ripple faintly around her. The jewel case in her backpack was empty now. The disc was already spinning, already working its magic. I won, she told herself. Sam will wake up in diapers. He’ll finally understand what it feels like. But the words felt hollow. She kept seeing her mother’s exhausted, hopeful face and the protective hand on her belly. She kept hearing the subliminal she had added almost as an afterthought: You don’t need to worry—Mommy will handle everything. A cold tendril of unease curled in her chest. She pushed it down. Everything was fine. Everything would be perfect. The world blurred at the edges. The summer heat dissolved into a cold, static-filled void that swallowed her whole. -
By Lady Lucia · Posted
Part 44 The picnic was about as awkward and uncomfortable as I expected. Normally, I made a point to keep my distance when Paige’s friends were around. Yet here I was, sharing another meal with them on top of all the ‘quality time’ from the previous evening. Noelle’s presence hardly helped. Even behaving as closely to my real self as possible felt like an act, when she could very well be interpreting my attitude as a troublesome girl just pretending for the time being. I also had to ignore the knowing looks from Paige, Annika, and Violet as they traded off with whomever had my babysitter’s attention. While I quietly ate my lunch, focusing on taking small bites to demonstrate to the best of my ability that I could handle what Noelle recently suggested, the other girls struck up a conversation with the brunette. She talked about her college classes and how she ended up choosing her major, as well as the specialized babysitting services she offered. Apparently she started just like anyone else when she was younger–simply taking whatever jobs she could find around the neighborhood for a little spending money. However, once she proved capable of handling the houses that most sitters took on once and then never returned to, everything fell into place. She started getting referred to other families that had similar issues, and figured out that people would pay a premium for someone who not only wouldn’t be scared off in a single evening, but who could often reform the charges she was hired to watch. It didn’t happen overnight, of course, but repeat clients almost always reported a noticeable improvement over time. “Long story short, I shifted from quantity to quality once I started college,” Noelle said, “I didn’t want to drop the business, but I also wanted to focus on my studies and have a social life.” “So, the occasional lucrative job during the semester,” Paige said, “And whatever you want over the summer?” Noelle nodded, “Pretty much. I make more in a single weekend than someone would for a whole week at a minimum wage job. Not that I’m trying to brag; it’s just important to know that there are better ways to make money, especially if you can find the right niche.” “Totally,” Violet said, “Like how I make a decent amount by streaming.” Paige scoffed. “Uh huh. Because of your gaming skills, or because you’re a hot girl?” “Both!” she grinned, “Like you’re complaining, anyway. I’m the reason our whole team has such good tech.” “And your team is the real secret to your success,” Paige fired back, before abruptly turning everyone’s attention towards me, “What about you, Miley? Any big plans to be rich or famous?” Rich, maybe. I had no interest in being a streamer or an influencer or whatever like more and more girls my age were getting into. Even the former wasn’t a current desire, as I was more focused on figuring out a college major for the time being. I still had all summer to narrow down the possibilities. Yet I couldn’t go into any of that when Noelle believed I was a thirteen year old who didn’t really care for school. Leaning on my middle school memories wouldn’t help much, as I had always been more into extracurriculars than anything that provided extra spending money beyond the allowance I had at the time. “Not really,” I replied after a beat. What did Miley even like doing for fun that could be parceled into cash? I had no clue. Deflecting right away, I said, “I’m going to go find a bathroom.” Though I did have to pee a little bit after not going since whenever I did overnight, I was mostly interested in enacting my hope/plan to find someone I knew. Sitting at a picnic table certainly wasn’t the best way to achieve that. “Don’t stray too far,” Noelle warned me. We both knew why she wasn’t insisting on coming with me. As I got up from the table and turned to walk away, I let out a quiet sigh of relief when no one else decided to tag along for the trip. It would have been easy enough for Paige or one of her friends to claim they needed the bathroom as well, if only to keep eyes on me, but apparently they were more interested in talking about side hustles that could be both lucrative and flexible. Or perhaps they wanted to see what Noelle would do if I did stray too far. Either way, I was free to enjoy what I realized was the first moment of alone time I had found all day. Since this was my first time at the park, I had an excuse to act like I didn’t know where I was going. The truth was, I had spotted the small building with bathrooms and water fountains on our way in, but I intentionally took a more perpendicular path while I pretended to find my bearings. Anything that would let me cover more ground. Unfortunately, luck was not on my side. My wide arc towards the eventual destination didn’t lead to me seeing any familiar faces. Of course, I planned on completing the loop on the way back. And keeping my eyes peeled on the way back to the car, too. Anything that might save me from Noelle’s assumptions and Paige’s lies. Initially, I hadn’t planned on actually using the bathroom; it had only been a convenient half truth I used to excuse myself. I typically avoided public restrooms when possible, for obvious reasons. Except now that I was there, the simple proximity and sight of the ‘Women’ sign and symbol was enough to tell my body now was a better time than waiting until we got home. Deciding to step into the bathroom instead of turning around ended up unintentionally being a really good choice. Because I immediately recognized the girl washing her hands. “Ruby!” I exclaimed. Way louder than I meant in the resonant bathroom. Blushing as she jumped a little in surprise, I lowered my voice back to a regular volume. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to, you know . . . ” The brunette girl from my ballet studio turned my way and took a moment to register who I was, no doubt due to my simple outfit that was unlike both my leotard and what I normally wore, then said, “Alyssa? Hey.” Wow. It was the first time I had heard my own name all day. Now I just had to cross my fingers that I would be able to explain this in a way that didn’t sound as insane as it actually was, and convince her to follow me back to Noelle so I could finally prove that I was who I said I was from the very start. ------------------------ Check out my website: www.ladyluciastories.com And read the entirety of "The Babysitter" (105 parts) and other stories on my SubscribeStar: https://subscribestar.adult/lady-lucia -
By bj & the bear · Posted
A total wow factor frosty. I hate kids, they are such jerks to each other. I'm hoping now Amber's seeing the real picture and she and Paul can patch things up. I could tell she clearly wasn't amused by the flyers and the way things have happened in the school now. Bravo sir and I can't wait for more, I'm wondering if there will be an assembly in the school after all this, I'm sure the head staff isn't too pleased with these actions. -
Wow just wow! Excellent job! And I love that it’s Amber starting to have to face her choices and who she will become.
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