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Spanking
All About Spanking
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Alice's life is spiralling out of control. The momentum has picked up and the changes feel unstoppable. Is there a way out though? When Kat messages her, maybe, just maybe, there is a light at the end of the tunnel. --- Every update I post is available on my Ream and SubscribeStar pages one week before it is posted everywhere else. For $5 you can see everything I post before the rest of the diapered world. For $10 you can see every update early plus EVERY exclusive story I have written. That's 35 stories available ONLY on my subscription pages and nowhere else! I rely on my wonderful subscriber's support to be able to write like I do. Writing is my only income and the money I earn goes to help paying the bills, food and everything else my wife and I need. Everyone's support is HUGELY appreciated, without it I would have to find other work and I wouldn't be able to write nearly as much as I do, maybe at all. So thank you to everyone who checks out my subscriber pages and considers supporting me ❤️ https://reamstories.com/elfy https://subscribestar.adult/elfy --- Over the next few days, I saw more and more changes happening. My life was out of my control. The crib felt… oppressive. Every time Mommy left me in there to nap or sleep, I felt a sense of foreboding. The bars seemed to grow to the ceiling and I got the feeling that I would never get out. The bars towered above me as I laid down and looked up at the ceiling. It was the first of many new signs of my reduced status in the house. The next day a playpen arrived along with toys. Mommy told me, casually, that I would be spending a lot of time in it. At first, I couldn’t believe it. She was really going all out. In fact, despite my Mommy’s foreboding presence and how fearful I was of her, I refused. I tried to reason with her. “Mommy, remember when all this started!?” I exclaimed, “I’ve just had a little bladder trouble! All of this other stuff has gotten out of hand!” Mommy never liked me talking back. Her response was swift, and it was to pull me over her knee and spank me until I was crying. She let me stand up, tears and snot falling down my face, and proceeded to berate me. Every word being like a bullet that penetrated into me and knocked my brief and pathetic resistance to the side. Yes, this had originally been about protection from a few accidents, but that had brought light to an even bigger problem. She told me that I was a useless baby and deserved everything I was getting, that every single thing I had a problem was my own fault. For what felt like an hour she exposed every weakness and personal failing I had and attacked it, I felt like I was being dissected. By the time Mommy told me to get in the playpen I was more than happy to do so. It meant the end of my dressing down. I decided that if I wanted to ever get out of the hole I found myself in I had to stop making Mommy mad. Just accept it all and prove I could be trusted again, then surely things would get better. Things didn’t get better. Mommy’s treatment of me seemed to pick up momentum like a heavy boulder rolling down a steep hill. The longer it went on the more impossible it was to stop it. More parts of my life changed. My clothes were switched out for childish outfits, Mommy frequently dressed me and often left my diaper exposed. I was denied any chance of using the potty so over the next few days I used my diaper for everything. It was humiliating. I wasn’t even allowed to ask for a change, I had to wait for Mommy to come and take my hand. I felt for sure that if she could carry me easily Mommy wouldn’t even let me walk to my bed… to my crib for changing. Indeed, sometimes she simply brought the supplies to me and changed me right there in the playpen. Mommy bought me a pacifier that was clipped to the front of whatever I was wearing that day. It had to be on my person at all times and I was technically supposed to have it in my mouth whenever I wasn’t eating or drinking but when Mommy left the room, I would take it out even if it meant risking another spanking. These were big changes. At first the shock kept me numb to them, each one adjusting my situation for the worse as I stared on and struggled to comprehend it all. I was a baby. There was no way to deny it. Nearly every second of the day was a reminder of my position. The one exception was after dinner when Mommy was in the living room and clearly didn’t want me bothering her, so she let me go up to my room. It was on one of these evenings, a week or so after Mommy had first bought the bars for my bed, that I was in my room and sat at my computer. I was wearing a onesie, a piece of clothing I had no idea they made for adults, but it did a good job of holding my wet diaper against my body. I was staring at the screen with my pacifier in my mouth. Kat had just sent me a message saying “Hello.” For some reason even that simple message was enough to make my eyes water. I think it was because it was the first time that someone was addressing me as an equal since Kat had left the house however long ago it had been. Since then, all I’d had from Mommy was baby treatment that felt like it was designed to melt my brain away. Treatment I no doubt deserved, but that was eroding my identity bit by bit. “Hi.” I typed back. “Is everything alright?” Kat asked, “You said you would talk to me more…” “Sorry.” I replied, “I’ve been busy.” There was a period where neither of us were typing anything. Then I saw the message at the bottom say “Kat is typing a response…” I waited. As I did so I shifted in my seat and heard my diaper crinkle in the familiar way. It had almost become part of the background noise my brain just tuned out but when the room was otherwise silent, like my room right then, my brain could still pick up on it. “You’ve been offline for days. You’ve been ignoring my messages again and you’re acting strangely.” Kat wrote, “You told me you would talk to me more and you haven’t. What’s going on?” I hesitated. My heart was hammering. Could I tell Kat the truth? It was so embarrassing to admit what was happening to myself yet alone to another person. Kat had changed me, there really shouldn’t have been anything to hide, and yet the baby treatment was so much worse now. I didn’t know if I could just start telling her that I was sleeping in a crib and playing with baby toys in a playpen. I knew she already thought I was just some baby. I didn’t want anyone to know who I really was, how pathetic I was. “I’m fine.” I typed simply. “No. You’re not.” Kat replied almost instantly. It was just text on a screen, but it felt like I could FEEL how angry she was by my response, “Stop lying and tell me the truth.” All of a sudden it felt like Mommy was on the other end of the messenger. It was another person I was lying to, another person who could see through my deceit and wanted to know the total truth. But what would Kat say if she knew the truth now? If I told her what life was really like for me, how I spent ninety percent of every day being treated like the useless baby I was. I looked down and saw my hands were shaking as they hovered over the keyboard. I hesitated. Whilst I sat mutely staring at the screen, I saw Kat typing again. I waited to see what else she had to say. “Whatever is going on, I want to know.” Kat wrote. It almost immediately showed a second message was coming, “You promised you would tell me. You know you can trust me. Is it something to do with your mom? Do you need help?” I felt a lump in my throat. My fingers settled on the keyboard. I was really going to do this. I was going to tell Kat about the embarrassing developments and leave it to fate whether what she would say afterwards. My final precious link with the real world, one I had been cultivating and preserving, I was about to hover a pair of scissors around that thin string and slowly close them. “It’s nothing to do with Mom.” I typed. I only barely managed to stop myself from typing “Mommy”, “It’s all my fault.” “What’s happening?” Kat replied almost immediately. The first message was quickly followed by a second, “I love you, Alice, but if you don’t let me in, I can’t keep hurting myself reaching out to you. I want to be your best friend but if you can’t trust me then maybe we should go our separate ways.” I took a deep breath and bit down a little harder on the pacifier that was still between my teeth. I wasn’t entirely sure why I hadn’t taken it out, I supposed it was just habit after keeping it in for nearly the whole day. With a second of hesitation, I started typing. In one long message I started writing everything that was happening, though emphasising that I had brought it on myself. I knew Kat was waiting at the other end of the messenger, eager to know how I was doing. It was like an essay. Once I started typing I found the momentum difficult to stop. I started spouting out everything that had happened, including several incidents from before Kat’s impromptu visit. Every embarrassing detail was noted whilst also explaining why Mommy had been forced to take what seemed like extreme measures. Paragraph after paragraph was typed out until I had listed everything I could think of. My finger hovered over the enter button, ready to send this wall of text, my confessions, to Kat. “What are you doing?” Mommy’s voice nearly made me fall out of my chair. I hadn’t heard her come upstairs. I must’ve been too focused on the computer. She was right behind me. “I… I…” I mumbled around the pacifier’s bulb. A line of drool dripped from the corner of my mouth. Mommy strode across the room with purpose, and I quickly pulled my hands away from the keyboard obediently. She reached the screen and bent over to read it. My heart hammered. I watched her eyes scan the messages already sent and the one I was about to send. I saw her go completely still, her skin turned white, and her mouth flattened into a line. I’d been naughty. Yet again I was being bad and forcing Mommy to be angry with me. Tears sprung from my eyes, and I looked down in shame. “Get in your crib.” Mommy muttered darkly. In my haste I nearly knock my chair over. I clambered into the bed and watched as Mommy remained at the computer. I desperately hoped I wasn’t getting Kat in trouble. What if my Mommy told her Mommy and she ended up in the same position I was in!? I watched Mom scroll up the screen and catch up on past messages, mostly Kat trying to talk to me without success. She highlighted the message I had been about to send and then deleted it. She started typing something else out instead, I was too far away to see what it was, but Mommy wrote the message and sent it. I saw the screen scroll as several quick messages from Kat came back and then Mommy moved to Kat’s profile and blocked her. I let out a little sob. I’d been bad and now I was going to be punished by not being able to talk to my friend. Mommy walked over to me in the crib. I flinched and scooted back on the mattress. “Have you been talking to anyone else?” Mommy asked. Her voice was flat but menacing. “No.” I shook my head. “Have you told anyone else what I’ve been forced to do to correct your behaviour?” Mommy asked. “No.” I kept shaking my head. “You’ve been a bad girl.” Mommy continued after a few seconds where it felt like she was reading my mind to find the truth. “I’m so-…” I started. Before I could even finish speaking, Mommy had pulled her hand back and brought it forwards, slapping me across the face. I yelped in shock and fell backwards on to my padded rear. My hand went up to gingerly touch where Mommy had struck me as tears welled up in my eyes. Yet another thing I had forced Mommy to do with my bad behaviour. I just couldn’t seem to make her happy. Mommy pulled the bars up until they locked into place. I was trapped in my bed without even being given my usual diaper change before sleep. I shimmied forwards to the edge of the crib and watched as she returned to the computer. I saw her typing some stuff into a search engine, following various links and downloading various programs. Mommy was tech savvy, and she certainly seemed to know what she was doing. I knew better than to ask. “Goodnight.” Mommy said when she finished and powered down my computer before leaving the room. I was quite surprised she didn’t take the computer with her if I was honest. I looked at the PC as the light was switched off and the door closed. I could only guess what Mommy had done, right then it didn’t seem to matter too much. She’d said something to Kat and then blocked her. It was over. My last link severed, just like that. I sat back on my damp butt and then collapsed sideways so that my head hit the pillow. Mommy had populated my crib with some stuffed animals and I clutched a large round owl to my chest as I sobbed quietly in the dark. It would only be the next day when I learned what Mommy had done with the computer. She seemed surprisingly lax about letting me use it but when I logged on, I realised why. I immediately tried to go to my messaging app but far from finding that Kat was blocked, I discovered that the app wouldn’t load at all. It kept showing me a pop up saying I didn’t have administrator permission. I went online and tried to go on some social media only to be immediately redirected to a page saying the website I had tried to visit was blocked. I was confused. I tried several more websites before finally reading the message that blocked them more carefully. “KidSafe Online: Let You Kids Surf With Confidence.” I frowned as I read it out loud. I searched for the company and then it all clicked together. Parental controls. Mommy had installed and configured parental controls on my computer to stop me going anywhere that she deemed inappropriate. After some exploring, I came to discover what that really meant. Just about the only websites I could visit were ones designed for children where there would be no explicit content. Even on video sharing sites it seemed like nearly everything was blocked except things designed just for babies. After that, Mommy didn’t need to tell me not to use the computer. There was little for me to do on there. Yet another, perhaps one of the last, avenues for me to be anything but a baby was cut off from me. --- If you enjoyed this and would like to see the next part of the story RIGHT NOW you can do so on my SubscribeStar and Ream pages: https://reamstories.com/page/lpjgftb4y2/story/mdh29ek3e3dbbd/chapter/mkzb6sw183975725 https://subscribestar.adult/posts/2310859 -
By Little_Girl_Olivia · Posted
I slept deeply and dreamlessly all through the afternoon. I slept as the long shadows were being cast by a fading sunset. I slept as Magda left Peter alone to watch me so that she could prepare supper and explain the situation to her son. I slept as Peter ate his dinner at my side, watching me, and later he drank cold beer there too. I slept as the portion of supper set aside for me grew cold. I slept as the night settled in and Magda brought blankets to cover me as the house grew cool. I slept as the lights were turn off and the front door was checked. I slept through the night as I was watched over and the kind couple began to wonder if they should call a doctor in the event that I didn't wake up the following day. The following day, in the morning, I did wake up. It was the loud cry of a cockerel which seemed to do it, a farmyard sound that I wasn't used to. I thought I must still be laying on the forest floor but upon opening my eyes I could see I was in the presence of two strangers and that I appeared to be in a bedroom. I surmised that strangers had found me and kindly brought me inside, although I had no recollection of this. I felt intrusive to find myself in someone's home and embarrassed that my drunkenness had lead to this awkward situation. "Où suis-je ?" I asked and abrupted stopped my questioning, wearing a confused expression because my voice didn't should like my own. It was several octaves lower than it should be. I cleared my throat. "Qui êtes-vous ?" I tried again and my eyes widened in shock as I realised I that I sounded like a girl. “Pourquoi est-ce que j'ai une voix de fille ?” I blurted out in a panic but it was clear that the concerned strangers couldn’t understand me and so they couldn’t offer an explanation. I felt my head to inspect for bumps, fearing that I must have hit it during the fall and I was suffering the odd side effects of a concussion. I found no bumps but it did feel like my hair was much longer than it should have been. My hand followed the tresses down from the crown of my head, down to my shoulders and then, turning my head, I could see that I had long hair flowing past my shoulders even. The hair was blond, like my sister’s, my own hair was dark brown like my Dad’s. I held strands of it out in front of my face, inspected it with a baffled expression. “C'est quoi ce bordel ?” I muttered to myself. I shifted in the bed and sat up right. Blankets which had hither-to been covering me, fell away and I got my first glimpse of the transformed body which had laid beneath. The first thing I noticed was how fine my hands looked and there was no hair on them. Then I noticed how baggy my clothes were. The fact that I recognised that they were my own clothes was a relief, it was something tangible about my identity which showed me I was still who I thought I was, and that I wasn’t in the midst of some weird dream. However, these clothes had fit me yesterday and now they were practically hanging off me. They were so baggy in fact that I could look down the gaping collar of my shirt and see my chest, where it looked like I had boobs. “Oh mon Dieu!” I cried out in alarm and threw myself out of the bed, awkwardly shuffling in my oversized clothes until I came to a mirror. For a moment I thought I was looking at my own sister, like how she looked when she was younger but the more I studied the reflection the more I noticed my own features in the unfamiliar face. My green eyes were there. My nose shape was there, but smaller and more button-like. I touched my cheeks and the side of my face. There was no beard, or even a stubble but of course there wasn’t. The person I was looking at was clearly a teenage girl, not a man. “Je suis une fille ?” I said to myself in almost a whisper, stunned as I came to acceptance that as impossible as it sounded, the girl I was looking at in the mirror, was indeed me. I didn’t understand how something like this could happen and it didn’t feel fair. I hadn’t asked for this. I felt hot tears starting to roll down my face and I turned away from the mirror, crying in self-pity and scared of the bizarre situation I’d found myself in. -
I think you will like Seni Quatro diapers, let us know. -
I fall into the range of 5,6 and 8. 5. because I have struggled with enjoying that I have needed diapers at times though my life for bedwetting and daytime issues. 6. Because it doesn't bother me being an abdl. I struggle with calling myself incontinent without feeling slightly like an imposter. 8 I'm done struggling to maintain the spotty control of a toddler. Now I'm giving in and letting things progress how my body chooses. My mental health is always better when I don't have to constantly monitor where the nearest bathroom is and will I make it in time if it's too far away. I'm wearing mine and all I need to deal with now is a few changes per day. -
By wetdiaper55 · Posted
Great chapter . I am glad Ellie is there to take care of baby Bradley . Now Bradley is allways going to be the school Baby .
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