Victoria Green Books

Thanks for the feedback, @Josh23, @mikejackson999, and @007specialk! I'll try not to taka as long on the next chapter haha

Chapter 13 Apologies for the (looonnnnngggg) delay in getting this chapter written- life has been busy! Hope you enjoy it. If you do, you might like some of my other stories, too. Robbie suddenly started bawling. A full-throated, red-in-the-face meltdown. A moment ago, he was pointing and laughing at the Capuchin monkeys swinging from branches and ropes in their zoo enclosure. Now he wailed and stomped his red, velcro sneakers against the blacktop. “Dude. What the fuck! Get yourself together!” Tyler snapped. Robbie stopped hollering. His lip quivered. Thank god. They’d been paired up as buddies for the zoo excursion, which meant Tyler couldn’t walk away from the big baby without invoking Miss Rosie’s wrath. Robbie sucked in a lungful of air, his chest hitching. “No no no!” Tyler said. Robbie burst into a wail again, even louder than before. Like a broken air raid siren. People were watching. A college-aged guy pointed at Robbie and his group of friends all broke into laughter. Tyler dug his fingers into Robbie’s arm. “You’re embarrassing yourself. What is wrong with you?” Robbie pointed at the monkey enclosure. “Monkeys go, go, goooooonnnneeee.” The monkeys were out of sight in their enclosure. “So? They’ll come back out soon.” “Promise?” Tyler gritted his teeth. “Yes.” Robbie slowly seemed to be regaining his composure and ability to speak like an adult. Like he was coming out of a trance. “You’ve been at the center one day. Not even a day! They can’t have screwed with your head this much.” “Hey, boys. Is everything alright over here?” Miss Rosie strolled over. Tyler sighed. “Fine.” Robbie’s lip quivered again. “The monkeys went away. I, I…was upset.” Miss Rosie wrapped him in a hug. Robbie sniffled against her shoulder. “There there. I’m sure the monkeys will be back later. We will stop in to see them again before we leave.” Robbie jabbed his finger at Tyler. “He yelled at me.” “Really dude?” “And he pinched my arm.” Tyler threw his hands up. “He was flipping out. I was trying to calm him down. Make him feel better.” Miss Rosie cocked an eyebrow. “You sure you weren’t worried about people seeing you in your shortalls, sweetie? You seemed pretty worked up about that earlier.” Tyler winced. With all of the tantruming, he’d momentarily forgotten about his ridiculous outfit. After waking from his fitful night of sleep, Rosie had dressed him in a fat diaper and tight plastic pants, ‘ to contain the odor, in case he made a poopy they couldn’t change right away.’ She followed with fire engine red corduroy shortalls with a Piglet patch on the chest pocket. He’d complained all the way to the bus. He’d continued complaining on the bus, making his case as to why he’d been humiliated enough already and didn’t need to be a public spectacle, too. Rosie explained that diaperboys couldn’t live their lives indoors. She babbled some nonsense about sunshine and adventures and being themselves at home and in public. “Sure,” Tyler snapped. “That too. I wanted him to get his act together.” He glared at Robbie. “Since he can’t seem to control himself.” “Well, that’s just silly now, isn’t it?” Miss Rosie asked. “Everyone knows boys can’t control their emotions.” Tyler snorted. “Are you serious? You’ve clearly screwed with his head.” Miss Rosie smiled. “It’s true, Robbie is on our accelerated program. But all boys have poor emotional control. Even ones who haven’t been to one of our centers yet.” Tyler gestured at the surrounding area. “Right. Look at the men having temper tantrums all over the place. Can hardly hear ourselves talk over all the screaming and crying. Everyone knows it’s women who are the emotional ones.” Miss Rosie put a hand on his back. “Let’s catch up with the rest of the group, okay boys?” Robbie nodded, looked over his shoulder at the monkey enclosure one last time, then stuck his thumb in his mouth. “Ty-Ty, sweetie, look at the news. Look in our schools. Our prisons. It’s not women who are dropping out of high school at alarming rates. It isn’t women who are murdering and robbing banks and beating up their partners. Boys are angry, aggressive, and impulsive. All of you.” Tyler shook his head. “And let me guess, your center fixes all of that?” Miss Rosie threw her head back and laughed. “Oh no, sweetums. Even we’re not that good. And why try?” She stopped in front of the African wild dog enclosure. A pack of juvenile wild dogs tussled, kicking up a cloud of dirt. One of them yipped, ran away from the group, then came back for more. “We appreciate you boys for who you are. Impulsive and rowdy as those dogs, but adorable in your own way. We just steer all those big, stwong emotions away from anger and aggression.” He wanted to tell her that he’d rather be an aggressive man than a crying, whining baby. And as far as anger, he’d never been more furious than at his time in the center, so they were getting an F minus on that. But he knew she’d just laugh and say something condescending. He jerked his head in Robbie’s direction. “How’d you manage to mess him up so quickly?” She smiled sweetly. “As I said, Robbie is part of our accelerated program. He’ll be discharged in a few days with a few new coping skills. And probably a touch of bedwetting, too.” He opened his mouth to ask her if he was on the fast track, too. She tousled his hair. “Don’t you worry about all of that, though. The only thing you need to focus on is having fun looking at all the zoo animals.” They’d met back up with the group again, in an open air food court with picnic tables and a fountain. A gaggle of twenty or so guys, all dressed in similar, babyish attire. As bad as the shortalls were, some of the guys wore khaki shorts, all of which looked like they had puffy beach balls smuggled underneath them. Worse, their shirts—most featuring characters from children’s shows—were ever-so-slightly too short. When a guy pointed at something up high or bent over, his diaper peeked over the elastic waistband of his shorts. Most of the other park guests gave them a wide berth, but some pointed and laughed. None had come over to talk to them yet, thank god. A mixed group of young men and women sat halfway across the food court, picking at their food but clearly engaging in people watching. He spotted a familiar face. Was that…? Tyler’s stomach twisted. It was. Celine Brodsky. He turned away before she recognized him. Elanor laughed and put an arm around his shoulder. “Aww, does someone have a cwush on the pretty lady?” “What?” She pointed at Celine. He resisted the urge to swat her arm down. “I’ll hold your hand if you want to go say hi. Maybe you could pick her one of the dandelions over there to bring her, hmm?” He shook his head. Elanor laughed. “Good boy. You’re finally starting to learn.” He bristled at that. “It’s not that. I could go talk to her if I wanted to.” “Aww, of course you could, sweetie. Maybe she’d even pull you onto her lap and let you tell her all about the animals you’ve seen today.” She leaned close and wrinkled her nose. “Though she might worry about your soggy diaper leaking on her skirt.” “I’m not…” he trailed off. His diaper wasn’t soggy, but it wasn’t dry either. When had that happened? Elanor laughed again. “See? Best leave those sorts of thoughts and feelings to your dreams.” “Leave them…wait.” Last night’s dreams—an equally erotic and confusing tangle of diapers and sex—came rushing back at him. “Did you do that?” Elanor smiled coyly. “Did I do what, dear?” He gritted his teeth. “The crazy dreams I’m having. Did the center, like, implant them or something?” “Have you been having exciting dreams? What about? Oh, let me guess! Did you play at the park with Elmo? Or maybe you dreamed about going to Disney World and meeting Cinderella in her castle. Or—” “Stop it, okay. They’re…sexual dreams.” “And these dreams confused your wittle noggin’, didn’t they? Because you wouldn’t be bringing them up if they were like the kinds of dreams you used to have, where you were a big, strong man that made all the ladies swoon. These sexy dreams are all mixed up with your cwinkly pants, aren’t they? You’ve started to realize how good your squishy, soggy diapie feels between your legs, hhhhmm?” Tyler looked away. Elanor chuckled. “To answer your question, sweetie. No, we can’t control your dreams. But what you’re experiencing is common among new diaperboys. Your subconscious is fighting back, trying to hold onto those dirty old ways of thinking. But don’t you worry one bit—the sweet, innocent baby inside every boy always wins out, sooner or later.” He snorted. Never. “And if that process drags on too long?” She patted the front of his shortalls. “We have a special tool that will help you become the sweet, soft diaperboy you know you are.” She winked at him and walked off. Tyler took a deep breath. He’d process that later. He spotted Celine again. For now, he needed to avoid her at all costs. Nothing else mattered as much as that. “Okay, boys,” Miss Rosie said. “Boys...” Two big babies were squatted over, poking at a beatle crawling on the ground. “That means you too, Jimmy and Ricky.” They stood up and ambled over to the rest of the group. Elanor clapped her hands together. “Okay, checks and changies, time.” Elanor said. Rosie, Elanor, and a third woman in an ABC polo herded the boys into a line. They laughed and babbled and slowly formed a loose line. Celine hadn’t seemed to notice what was going on, but it was only a matter of time. You didn’t line up a bunch of guys who looked like they’d just escaped a Rugrats cosplay convention and expect not to draw attention. “Ty-Ty,” Rosie said. She pointed at the end of the line. The end nearest Celine’s table. He walked to the other end of the line. Next to Jimmy, who’d squatted over again to poke at yet another bug. “Alright, boys, you know what to do,” Miss Rosie said. Most of the guys tugged down their shorts, letting them drop onto their sneakers. The ones with shortalls struggled a bit, but didn’t hesitate to comply. Within moments, they all had their plastic-pants covered diapers on display for the world to see. “Ty-Ty, that means you, too,” Elanor said. He pretended not to hear her. Rosie and the other helper made their way down the line, pulling back waistbands, squeezing the fronts of diapers, and making the most ridiculous comments. “Looks like the squish monster visited you, huh?” “Oh my! Those two ba-bas ran right through you. Good thing you had your diapies, huh?” “No poopies yet. Those stinky toots tell me that’ll be changing soon, though.” Some of the boys were pulled away, presumably for diaper changes, while the rest were allowed to pull their shorts or shortalls back into place. Just as Rosie was about to get to him, Tyler glanced at Celine. As expected, the lineup had drawn her attention. Their entire table watched the proceedings in something resembling fascination. If he stood right where he was, she couldn’t see him, though. The rest of the line blocked her direct view. He popped the buttons on his shortalls and let them fall to the ground. Rosie put her hands on her hips. “Ty-Ty, I thought I told you it was time for checks and changies.” He gestured at his exposed diaper. “Yes, but you didn’t listen when I told you a few moments ago.” “Who cares? I did it now. Can’t we just get this over with? I mean, I don’t know why we need to put on this whole show, anyway.” She squeezed the front of his diaper. Then spun him around and pulled back the waistband. She let it go with a snap. “All clean and mostly dry.” “Yeah, no shit.” She bent over and grabbed his shortalls. “Step out of your shortalls, please.” “What?” She looked up at him with that ‘don’t mess with me’ expression. He stepped out with one leg, then the other. She stood up and held the shortalls up. “Pants are a privilege. And you’ve lost yours for the rest of the day.” He grabbed at the pants and she pulled them back. “Remember, Ty-Ty, things can always get worse.” “This is so stupid. You set me up to fail. I don’t even—” “Open your mouth.” “What? Why—” Her arm shout out and stuck a pacifier between his lips. She held it there. The large, rubbery bulb filled his mouth. “I’ve had quite enough fussin’ out of you. You keep that in there until I say so, okay?” She clipped the pacifier to his shirt with a zoo animals strap. He resisted the urge to spit it in her face. Before, if Celine spotted him, he might have played off his odd clothing. Distracted attention away from his bulging crotch area. The pacifier made that impossible. Now his only hope was to avoid being seen at all. “Okay boys, who’s hungry?” “Me me me!” “Yay!” “I want my baba!” Some boys just clapped. Tyler kept his mouth shut. Why bother saying anything? If the women had decided it was time to eat, they’d eat. Responding just played into the illusion that they had any agency. Celine and her friends were packing their lunch away. If he could stay hidden in the midst of the group for a few more minutes, they could all go their separate ways. “Ty-Ty,” Rosie said. She held a bib out. It had a cartoonish image of a big baby man in a massive diaper with stink lines coming out of it. He clutched an oversized spoon full of green glop. Over the image it read “Everythin’ I eat…” and below the image it continued “...ends up in my seat.” “That’s disgusting.” “It’s okay, sweetie. Where else would everything you eat and drink end up but in your diaper? You wouldn’t want it in your pants or on the furniture, would you?” Elanor grinned behind her. “I bet even those big, strong lions would run away if you made a stinky on the ground. Best to keep everything locked up tight in your diapie.” “I’m not gonna take a fucking shit on the fucking ground!” The picnic area was silent. Heads turned and looked at Tyler. Including Celine’s. She stood up from the picnic table, her brow knit, and began walking over. The rage curdled into terror in Tyler’s gut. “Tyler? Tyler Collins?” She gave him the elevator eyes. When her judging eyes reached his face, she wore a smirk on hers. “Hey, Celine. Nice day for a trip to the zoo, huh?” Real smooth, you idiot. “Where the hell have you been? You haven’t returned any of my calls.” “Yeah, sorry about that. Just taking a bit of an extended vacation.” She eyed the rest of the ABC group. Jimmy was poking at bugs again. Robbie drank from a bottle. Rosie watched the whole exchange with smug amusement. “A vacation. Huh.” Tyler stepped closer and dropped his voice to a whisper. “To be honest, the work stress was getting to me. We take the relationships we have with our clients so seriously. Long hours. You know how it is. I’m not proud to admit it, but I started drinking a bit too much, and…” He shrugged. “I’ll admit, I was pissed at first,” she said. “We’ve given you how much business over the past three years? But then I remembered what a sexist asshole you were. How you always cut me off and talked over me in every single meeting and lunch. And then there was that time at the Christmas party. You remember that.?” He put his hands up. “Hey, no. Celine, please. I’m sorry if anything I said was perceived to be—” “Perceived to be?” He cleared his throat. “If I said anything rude, I’m sorry. We deeply value our relationship with Miller and Robbins.” “When you didn’t return my third call, I thought of taking our business elsewhere, but I think your wife can turn things around.” “Monica?” “Do you have another wife I don’t know about?” She laughed. “Nevermind. I don’t even want to know the answer to that one. Anyway, I figured I’d give you one last chance. Called your office yesterday and we were able to get everything settled. We even discussed a lower rate when our contract runs up next quarter.” Tyler was shocked. “Connor gave you a discount? Without my approval?” “No, your wife. Try to keep up, Tyler.” “Connor is the only one who can make decisions like that in absence.” Celine shrugged. “She said Connor had just left and would be entirely unavailable for the foreseeable future. That I’d be dealing with her from now on.” “Did she say where he was going?” Celine looked around the group. “She said he’d be with you. Is he not here?” Oh no. No no no. “Good seeing you, Tyler. I guess.” As she walked away, she nodded her head at Jimmy, who’d abandoned his bug-bothering project and was loudly filling his pants. “I think your buddy is pooping his diaper.” She glanced meaningfully at my waist. “Or is that you I smell?” I publish stories of boys who are sent back to diapers by their wives and girlfriends on Smashwords. My co-author, BoysRBabies, posts lovely diaper captions on Tumblr.

Thank you @kirababy @mikejackson999 @Guilend ! It's always nice to get feedback and to hear that people are enjoying the story

Chapter 12 Rosie and Calli each held one of Tyler’s hands as they led him back into the daycare’s main room. He was taller than either of them, but somehow it didn’t feel that way as he waddled along between them, his ultra-thick nighttime diaper forcing him to walk as unsteadily as a toddler taking his first steps. “That’s a good boy,” Rosie cooed. “Keep going. I know walking is hard when you’re wearing such a big diapie, but you need it for bedtime. Babies don’t stop going potty just because they’re asleep, so you’ll need something to last you all night!” Tyler scowled. His mouth was mercifully free of soap suds now, at least. After changing him into his new diaper, Rosie had brushed his teeth for him. It had felt strange and embarrassing standing there with his mouth open, toothpaste dribbling down his chin, while someone else cleaned his teeth, but it was hardly anything compared to the other indignities he’d suffered so far. Just one more little part of his adulthood they’d taken away. But he wasn’t going to forget it. Once he got out of this madhouse, he was going to make them pay for every last thing. Once they reached the nursery, Tyler saw that the staff were settling the diapered men in a wide semi-circle on the floor, centered around a strict-looking middle-aged woman seated on a wooden chair. He recognized her as the one who’d announced lunchtime. She was the oldest of the women he’d seen at the Center so far, though it was hard to tell her age exactly, and she seemed to be the one in charge. She was holding a large picture book on her lap. “I need to go and get Benny sorted out,” Calli said, letting go of Tyler’s hand. “Talk to you later, Ty-Ty! Be a good boy for Miss Rosie, okay?” Tyler said nothing. “Are you excited for story time, Tyger?” Rosie asked, pulling him over to a space on the floor. “No,” Tyler said bluntly, sitting down on his thickly padded rear. Rosie just smiled. “What a grumpy boy! I bet you’re tired, aren’t you? Well don’t worry, mister fussy-pants. You’ll soon be in bed with your tummy full of milk and your head full of Miss Elizabeth’s story.” The last of the boys were just sitting down when Tyler heard the door to the nursery open behind him. He looked around to see someone new being escorted into the room. It was the young man he’d spotted being dropped off in the waiting room earlier that afternoon. The angry older woman, probably his mother, was no longer with him. Instead, he was holding the hand of a very pretty young woman, no older than he was. But he didn’t seem very happy about it. His eyes were red with tears, and he was rubbing his diapered bottom with his free hand. It looked like he’d gotten a spanking already. “Who’s this then?” asked the middle-aged woman in the chair, the one Rosie had called Miss Elizabeth. “Do we have a new student?” “Little Robbie is on our fast track program, so he won’t be staying long,” said the young woman holding his hand, “but I thought he could come and listen to story time while we get the procedure ready for him.” “Certainly he can,” said Miss Elizabeth, smiling at Robbie. Or rather, her thin lips stretched into something that might have been a smile. It made the hairs on the back of Tyler’s neck stand on end. “He’s just in time. Take a seat, Robbie.” Robbie was looking surly, but he didn’t seem willing to say anything that might get him spanked again. He lowered himself to the ground as instructed, wincing as his sore bottom hit the floor. Miss Elizabeth clapped her hands together, and silence fell. “Once upon a time, there was a very naughty little boy,” she said, opening the picture book and holding it up so all of them could see. But the ‘boy’ in the picture didn’t look little at all. He was a grown man in a pinstriped suit, briefcase in hand as he prepared to leave his house for work. In the background, a woman, presumably his wife, stood looking exasperated with her hands on her hips. A pile of dirty plates was heaped in the sink. “He was always making messes for other people to clean up,” said Miss Elizabeth. She turned the page. Now the man was at his office, where he was pinching the bottom of his startled-looking secretary. “And he couldn’t keep his hands to himself!” The page across showed him shouting at an intern and pointing his finger in her face. The girl looked close to tears. “He didn’t know how to use his inside voice,” Miss Elizabeth said, shaking her head. She turned the page again. The man was driving home, leaning out of his window and wolf-whistling at a curvy, high-heeled lady who was walking by. “And he never treated women with respect…” Tyler suddenly became aware that music was playing quietly in the background. A soft, gentle nursery tune. There were no lyrics, but once again he thought he could hear a faint female voice hidden in the sound. “Luckily, the naughty boy was spotted by a good witch,” said Miss Elizabeth, pointing to the next page where a woman in a plain shirt and jeans was smiling and tapping her chin thoughtfully. “And she knew just what to do with him.” The next page showed her pointing her finger, out of which a beam of pink light arced across onto the opposite page, hitting the man and enveloping him as he got out of his car and walked up his driveway. Tyler shifted in his massive diaper. He felt tense. He knew it was just a stupid story, but somehow what happened to the man seemed very important. Miss Elizabeth turned the page. The man was no longer wearing his pinstriped suit. Instead, he was looking in shock at his new clothes; a canary-yellow bonnet, a baby blue t-shirt, and an enormous white diaper. It was the exact same outfit as all the boys listening to the story, except without the ABC logo on the front of the shirt. “She turned him into a big baby!” said Miss Elizabeth. “All the people who knew him were very pleased.” She tapped the next page, which showed the man’s wife standing in the doorway, looking delighted at the sight of her infantilized husband. “The naughty boy still makes messes for other people to clean up,” Miss Elizabeth said, turning the page again. “But now they all end up in his diaper!” The man was squatting down, red-faced, and his diaper was drooping heavily beneath him. “It’s not very nice being on the other end of an ouchie bottom,” she continued, and Tyler saw that the opposite page showed the man over his secretary’s lap, kicking his legs wildly while she spanked him. “And it’s not nice being the one who gets shouted at either.” On the next page, the man was crying his eyes out and standing in a puddle of pee. His diaper lay off to one side, as if he’d taken it off and had an accident on the floor, and the formerly tearful intern was scolding him angrily. “But the naughty boy has to learn that respect is for women.” Miss Elizabeth tapped the next page, which depicted the man walking down the sidewalk, blushing bright red while women all around him pointed and laughed at his sagging diaper. “It’s not for silly men like him.” Miss Elizabeth turned the page one last time, and Tyler saw the man lying in a crib, bawling like a baby, while his wife leaned over the bars to check his diaper. “The End,” she said. She shut the book and smiled at them. “What a lovely story.” Tyler felt dazed, as though he’d just been knocked in the head. The music was still playing lightly in the background. He shook his head, trying to clear it. All around him, the staff were sitting down next to their charges, bottles of warm milk in their hands. “Time for your baba, Ty-Ty,” came Miss Rosie’s cooing voice. She slipped the bottle between his lips and gently laid his head against her chest. He started to suck automatically. He couldn’t get his mind off the story. The pages flashed in front of his mind one by one, and he could see himself in the man’s place. He could see his own secretary tugging him over her knees and bringing her hand swishing through the air to smack his tushy. He could see the sexy little intern at his office, her normally meek expression turned strict and authoritative as she pointed her finger in his face and told him off for peeing on the floor. He could see Monica’s smug smile as she bent over the bars of his crib to slip a finger inside the leak-guards of his soggy diaper. The music was doing something to him. Just like before. But what? It was so hard to think. Warm milk flowed down his throat, and Miss Rosie was cooing something at him, but he wasn’t sure what. He could only think about the story, about the naughty boy who’d been turned into a baby. There was a hiss of air as he finished the bottle, and Miss Rosie helped him to his feet. He was still unsteady in his big diaper, but Miss Rosie was there to hold his hand, and soon she was helping him into his crib. “That’s a good boy, Tyger,” she crooned. “Who’s a good boy? Who’s a good baby who’s ready for beddy-byes?” Tyler was going to answer, but there was something in his mouth. Miss Rosie had slipped his pacifier between his lips. “Ty-Ty likes hims lullaby, doesn’t hims?” Tyler mumbled around his paci. His eyelids fluttered closed. He didn’t want to sleep in a stupid crib again, not like the man in the story, but he felt so tired. He wasn’t a dumb baby, but maybe just for now he’d let himself relax. It was so comfortable under the sheets. “Sweet dreams, little boy.” Tyler imagined he was in his own bed at home. Monica was there, and she was naked. She was crawling on top of him, rubbing herself needily against him. He was the man of the house, and she was just his desperate little sex pet. They kissed, and he gripped her tits so tightly that she gasped. They broke apart, and Mon climbed further up the bed so that her breasts hung in front of his face. He squeezed them and lowered his mouth down to her nipples. He was going to be rough, to show her who was in charge, but instead he found his lips clamping onto her the same way they’d clamped around his bottle. He sucked, and warm milk flowed right into his mouth. No… This wasn’t right. This wasn’t what he wanted. Mon was cradling his head and cooing at him. “That’s a good boy,” she said. “Drink up, baby. Drink up all Mommy’s milkies.” No! This wasn’t right at all! He wasn’t at home. He was at work. He was reclining in his office chair, and his secretary was tugging down his pants. She was pulling out his cock. She was wrapping her lips around it. He threw his head back in pleasure as her warm mouth slid up and down his length. He reclined even more, until he was lying flat on his back. Something cold was running up and down his penis now, and he frowned. “That’s a good boy,” said his secretary. “We’ll soon have you all cleaned up.” Tyler raised his head, and saw that it wasn’t her lips that were wrapped around his cock. It was a cool, moist baby wipe. He was lying on a changing table, right in the middle of getting his diaper changed, and his secretary was standing between his legs, smirking at him. “Legs up, baby!” No, this wasn’t right either! He had to get away. As far away as he could. He was driving his car, racing down the highway. His foot was flat on the accelerator, but for some reason he was slowing down. He tried to go faster. He was pedaling as fast as he could, but he knew the women were close behind him. Hold on... Pedaling? He realized then that his Range Rover had melted away and transformed into a child’s pedal car, a frame of bright red and yellow plastic that he was driving across the grass in the back garden. It was a warm, sunny day and Monica and her friends were standing off to one side, drinking Champagne and pointing and laughing at him as he peddled along in the cramped play-toy wearing nothing but a squishy, stinky diaper that badly needed changing. Then his pedal car was gone, and there were more women pointing and laughing at him; Kari, Holly, Rosie, Calli, Ella in her blue dress, Amy in her red one, Julie in the yellow, his secretary, his intern, his aunt, his mother, his ex-girlfriends, all standing around him in a big circle, laughing while he stomped his feet and threw a tantrum. “I don’t wanna be a baby!” he wailed. “I’m a grown man!” But the women just kept laughing on and on and on. I publish stories of boys who are sent back to diapers by their wives and girlfriends on Smashwords. My co-author, BoysRBabies, posts lovely diaper captions on Tumblr.

Thanks for the assist, @kerry ! I hope you're enjoying the story, @Luk.e. I know it's taking a long time between chapters, but I'm still working on it

Thanks @keith60 @mikejackson999 @SGTbaby . It's always nice to get comments and feedback. Hopefully, you won't have to wait as long for the next chapter.

Chapter 11 Two years ago, Tyler banged his CFO’s administrative assistant in the executive office’s shower after a particularly raucous office holiday party. It was a one-time thing, by necessity—Ariela wouldn’t have been able to keep her mouth shut for an ongoing liaison. She’d only quit yapping when he had her bare ass pressed against the slate shower wall, and then only because she was too busy moaning and calling out his name. For some reason, hotel showers, poolside hot tubs—that one onsen outside of Kyoto—always brought out the beast in him. Something about slick, soapy skin wound him up. But looking at the bath today, he feared his long run of bathing-based sexual conquests might be coming to an ignominious end. Tyler had seen two bathrooms so far at the Regression Center. The first had the symbol of a woman on the door. That bathroom was locked at all times, he knew, as he’d seen a staff member produce a key from her pocket and let herself in. She’d had the nerve to wink at him as she closed the door behind herself. The other bathroom had the image of a baby on the door. The baby’s legs were splayed to the sides like a frog on its back, an oversized diaper between its legs. Subtlety wasn’t their thing here. This bathroom, if you could call it that, had tile floors and walls and bright fluorescent lighting, but lacked most of the other features of a typical public restroom. First, there were no stalls or anything else to provide privacy or discretion. He could almost hear Miss Rosie’s voice in his head spouting some nonsense about babies not needing those things. A row of large diaper-changing tables lined one wall, with diaper bins next to each one. Stacks of thick diapers, tubs of wipes, cans of baby powder, rash ointment, and other diapering supplies were arrayed on nearby shelves. Two legs stuck in the air on one of the tables, with an orderly between them, conducting a change. A messy change, based on the foul smell that filled the air. Though it was hard to tell in this place, as odors seemed to linger with so many guys walking around in diapers. The only toilets in the bathroom, if you could call them that, were a couple of plastic potty-training chairs tucked into a corner. Unlike the changing tables, these were regular-sized, meaning anyone who sat on them would have their knees in their face and at least some of their butt hanging over each side. Ridiculous to even picture, which was probably the point. Three detachable showerheads hung from another wall. These looked like any other showerheads, though he imagined they were used to hose down especially befouled residents rather than to provide a more dignified and adult means of bathing. As for dignified bathing, the bathtub in the center of the room was anything but. Massive, porcelain, with claw feet and brass fixtures, it would’ve looked at home in any 19th-century home. Both classic and classy. What made it undignified, though, aside from its location in the center of the room, was the grown man sitting in the water, splashing and laughing. “Okay,” one of the two orderlies attending him said in a patronizing voice, “time to get out now.” “That’s right,” Miss Rosie chimed in, “it’s Tyger’s turn to get all scrubbed up. Isn’t that right?” She squeezed his hand, which she’d insisted on holding, as she led him into the bathroom. “He had a messy bum-bum, so we need to make sure he gets extra clean.” “Alright now, up with you,” one of the orderlies said. The man in the tab stuck out his lower lip, but he stood up. She helped him out of the tub, wrapped him in a big towel that had a hood shaped like a duck’s head, then led him over to one of the changing tables. The other orderly, a young, slim woman with an upturned nose and twinkling eyes, shifted her gaze to him. “Looks like you’re next, young man.” Rosie released Tyler’s hand and took him by the shoulders. She gave him a serious look. “Do you need to fill your pants first? We don’t need you making poopies in the tub now, do we?” Tyler felt himself flush. That question—and all of the others like it—would never be comfortable, and that was the point. Keep drilling home that they saw him as an overgrown baby. But it felt especially unnecessary now, considering what they’d just done a few minutes ago. “We just dealt with all of that.” He choked back the snarky ‘remember?’ that he desperately wanted to tack onto the end. The orderly walked over and put her hands on her hips. Her name tag read ‘Calli.’ “Are you talking back?” Tyler swallowed and counted to three. “No, miss. It’s just that I…did that a little while ago.” Her brow furrowed in confusion. “Ty-ty, is it?” He grimaced, but nodded. “What was it you did a little while ago?” she asked. “I…pooped. My diaper.” “Ah,” Calli said, “I see.” “You’re lucky you didn’t have to smell it,” Rosie added. “This lil guy is quite the stinker.” Calli wrinkled her nose. “So, do you have to make poo-poos again?” Rosie asked again. “You might as well get used to being asked, you know.” “I get it,” he snapped. “You want to rob me of all my dignity and make every moment as humiliating as possible.” Calli shook her head. “That’s not why she’s asking you, Ty-ty. You see, as your new life in diapers unfolds, you’ll grow increasingly used to the idea that you’re wearing your potty. Over time, you’ll stop holding in all your little messes.” “Why hold it when everything is going to end up in your diaper anyway, right?” Rosie added with a shrug. “That’s for people who use the potty. Better to let go and be comfy.” “Precisely,” Calli said. “And eventually, you’ll lose all control anyway. Just like a baby, you’ll wet and mess yourself and not even realize it happened until you’re sitting in your stinky, soggy britches.” “It’s adorable to see the first time it happens,” Rosie gushed. “I wish I could be there for every boy’s first experience. The look in their eyes when they realize what’s happened? When they realize that somewhere along the way, they lost a skill they had as a toddler? Precious.” Calli giggled and pulled a tape measure from her pocket. “Speaking of precious…” Rosie clapped her hands together. “Yes! I almost forgot.” She turned to Tyler and cocked an eyebrow. “Ty-ty?” Tyler sighed. “I don’t need to defecate.” “Aww,” Rosie cooed, “listen to hims use his big words.” “I’m guessing that’s the only big thing around here,” Calli said. “But let’s see.” Tyler had no clue what they were talking about and didn’t particularly want to find out, but he knew he would either way. Rosie popped the tapes on his diaper and let it drop to the tile floor. Calli snorted. “About what I expected.” “Excuse me?” Tyler snapped, covering himself. “Plenty of women have found it more than satisfactory.” Calli nodded slowly, her face solemn. “Oh, I’m sure. Very satisfactory.” Rosie pulled his hand away. “Let Calli do her work.” Calli pinched the head of his penis between her fingers. “Ouch! The fuck?!” Calli and Rosie shared a look. “I’ll fetch the soap,” Rosie said with a sigh. Calli pulled his penis out, then put the tape measure next to it. After taking the measurement, she let it drop again, then gave it a little pat. “Very much in the ‘cute and cuddly’ range.” “Cute and cuddly?” Tyler snapped. “I bet you—” the words died in his throat when he saw her stern expression. “Yes, cute and cuddly,” she repeated. “Just be glad it’s not in the ‘pathetic’ zone.” Rosie returned with a bar of soap cupped in her hand. “Well, let’s see again in a few months, shall we? Remember Roberto?” Calli rolled her eyes. “I still think you measured him incorrectly the first time.” “Ha!” Rosie said. “You wish.” A smirk spread across her face. “I bet he wishes so, too.” Calli giggled. “See, Ty-ty, Rosie and I have a little wager. She has this theory that after a boy has been back in diapers for a while, some subconscious part of him realizes he doesn’t need that wittle dangly bit between his legs for any grownup stuff anymore, so it slowly shrinks into a tiny, pants-peein’ nub.” “The tiny ones are so extra cute, nestled in the folds of a soft diapee,” Rosie added. “They look like cuddly little kittens, taking an afternoon nap on the bed.” “Right,” Callie continued, “so we measure boys when they first come in, and then when they come back for regular resets, and see if they’ve shrunk.” “See how much they’ve shrunk,” Rosie corrected. Tyler was pretty sure it was all a bunch of nonsense. The human body didn’t work that way. Not that it mattered: his cock wasn’t going to atrophy. He’d be out of diapers the minute he walked out of those doors, which shouldn’t be too long if Connor came through for him. And if, for some reason, he didn’t divorce Monica’s ass once he was out, she was going to be making it up to him in the bedroom for a long time. But this reset thing was intriguing. He didn’t really care, but it might be one more piece of intel that he could include in his eventual lawsuit. “What’s a reset?” Rosie smiled. “Always such a curious boy. A lot of women find it helpful to send their boys back for a week or so at a time, once or twice a year. We can correct any bad behavior they’ve struggled to address, and give the poor ladies a break from wiping poopy bums. Most women take the opportunity to go on a vacation with their girlfriends, though some attend classes and training seminars we offer. Now open wide.” Tyler opened his mouth without thinking about it. Rosie stuck the bar of soap between his teeth. “This is for your bad language. You’re going to want to spit it out. Don’t. I will remove it when I feel like you’ve learned your lesson. If you spit it out before then, or if you drop it, you’ll regret it.” The bar filled his mouth and still stuck a solid inch past his lips. He bit down, not wanting to risk dropping it, and winced as tiny flecks broke off and dropped into his mouth. His tongue was lodged firmly against the bottom of the bar, filling his mouth with an acrid, bitter flavor. With the bar placed just under his nose, the smell was no better: every inhalation brought more soapy aroma into his nose. “I recommend you use your lips, too,” Callie said. “A lot of boys try teeth only, as they don’t like the oily sensation on their lips, but you’re more likely to drop it that way.” Tyler realized he’d been holding his lips back. As much he hated to admit it, she was probably right. He lowered them onto the bar, trying and failing not to wince. “Alright, let’s get you in the tub now.” Rosie gave his bare bottom a smack. The tub was filling with fresh, hot water. A thick layer of bubbles coated the top. “Okay, up we go now,” Rosie said, holding his hand like he was some sort of invalid, as he stepped into the water. He slowly settled down in the tub. Calli lifted a basket of toys over the edge and held it out to him. “Go ahead, pick a couple out.” The basket was filled with plastic boats of various shapes and sizes, a submarine, some tub-safe crayons, a mermaid with a wind-up flipper, and an assortment of other crap for kids. Tyler gave her a withering gaze—or the closest to that he could with a hunk of soap lodged in his mouth. “You sure? I think you might have more fun with some toys to play with,” Calli said. “Maybe we should go get another boy to keep him company,” Rosie said. “Has Jamie had a tubby yet today?” Calli shook her head. “Nope, he hasn’t. I’m sure he’d love to play in the tub with Ty-Ty.” She wrinkled her nose. “He does have a bad habit of relaxing a bit too much in the warm water, though, if you know what I mean.” Rosie laughed and shook her head. “I do. The number of times I’ve had to give that boy a second bath right after his first one…” Tyler pulled a tugboat and the mermaid out of the tub, held them up so the women could see, then dropped them in the water. Rosie smiled. “Such a good boy. Except for that foul mouth of yours. Though I think you’re learning your lesson, hhhhmmm?” She turned to Calli. “Fetch the shaving kit, please.” Calli walked off and Rosie turned back to Tyler. She dipped a cup into the water and poured it over his head, then repeated the process twice more. As the water hit the bar of soap, it made the surface slick, forcing Tyler to bite down even harder. Worse, it sent soapy water into his mouth. “Try not to swallow too much soapy water,” Rosie said. “It’ll upset your tum-tum.” Calli returned and settled down next to the tub. “That’s right. If we want your tummy full of soapy water, we’ll use an enema.” Tyler winced as the nasty flavor grew more intense. He didn’t want that nasty taste in the back of his throat the rest of the day. And he definitely didn’t want to be puking his guts out. He tipped his head forward and loosened his lower lip. Soapy drool ran over his lower lip and down his chin. Rosie smiled. “Such a clever boy.” She continued to scrub him down with a soapy washcloth. When she reached his genitals, she ordered him to stand up and he complied. She didn’t spend any extra time on his junk, but the feeling of her soft, soapy hands rubbing and squeezing for even a few seconds was enough to elicit a reaction. It didn’t help that she’d spent the last few minutes bent over the edge of the bathtub, showing off more than a little cleavage. She looked up at him, her expression stern. “You better wash those dirty thoughts right out of your head, young man. If you don’t, we have ways of managing that, and you won’t like them.” Calli leaned forward eagerly. “Should I get his other measurements? We just got those new cages in and I’ve been dying to see if they’re as inescapable as promised.” “What do you think, Ty-ty?” Rosie asked him. “Are you going to be a good boy, or should we fit you for a chastity cage?” Tyler had no idea what that was, and couldn’t ask with the soap in his mouth, but he could guess. He shook his head. Rosie nodded slowly. “Okay then. Just remember, that’s always an option if you forget that your lil guy is for making wee-wees in your diapies and nothing else, okay?” He glared at her, but he also nodded. “Alright, almost done, then it’s story time and beddy-by for you, Tyger. But first, we need to get rid of all that nasty hair. I need you to stand completely still for this because I don’t want to nick you with the razor.” They were going to shave his body hair? This bothered Tyler more than it should have, considering all of the other indignities he’d suffered. Not only was this further stripping away his masculinity, but the effect would also last longer than the others. The diapers and all of that would be left behind when Connor sprung him, but it’d take weeks for his hair to grow back fully. But that was fine, he decided—it’d serve as one more reminder of why he needed his lawyers to absolutely gut this place. Rosie started with his facial hair and worked her way down his body. It was an odd experience, being shaved by another person. Unsettling at first, but as she proceeded, some of the tension drained from his body. Were it not for the bar of soap in his mouth, the experience might have almost been pleasant. He’d thought she would stop with his pubes, but she continued all the way to his feet, spending what felt like a lifetime on his balls and ass. When she was done, the only hair left was on top of his head. She stood up, stretched her back, and smiled at her handiwork. “There. So much better. And it’ll make cleaning up all your wittle messes so much easier.” Calli held up a mirror. The image was jarring. Tyler knew he’d look different without body hair, but this was more extreme than he expected. His body looked oddly smooth and softer than he’d care to admit. Rosie stared him in the eye. “Have you learned your lesson about bad words? Because if you have, I think we can take that bar of soap out now.” He nodded his head vigorously. Or at least as vigorously as he dared. He had no doubt she’d punish him if he dropped the bar, even if he was millimeters from the finish line. She smiled. “Good boy.” She plucked the bar from between his teeth and handed it to Calli. “You can spit, if you need to. We’ll get the rest of it out when you brush your toofers in a little bit.” Tyler worked his jaw, which was feeling stiff and sore, then spit several mouthfuls of soapy spit into the draining tub. Rosie held out a big, fluffy towel. “Let’s get you dried off and into your nighttime diapee. Then it’s story time!” I publish stories of diapers and domination on Smashwords. Most recently I published "Mommy's Needs." My co-author, BoysRBabies, posts lovely diaper captions on Tumblr.

@mikejackson999 @Guilend - In Chapter 9, after he was taken out of the walker and was still in his messy diaper, he was given an hour of free time before his bath. "Now run along and play," Holly said. "You all have a free hour before tubby time." He only went outside because the woman at the front desk, Deborah, was suspicious of him asking for an envelope. Sorry if that wasn't clear.

Here it is! Chapter 10 of The Regression Center. But first, here's a snippet from my new, 25k word Smashwords story - Summertime Secrets: Diapered at the Cabin Ella patted the bed again. He slowly lowered himself onto the twin mattress beside her, trying to keep any part of the diaper from coming into contact with her perfect body. “You sure you don’t want me to take it off?” “The tapes are too loud,” she whispered in his ear, her voice low and breathy. She gazed into his eyes, seeking understanding. He nodded. He didn’t understand—he could peel them back quietly—but that didn’t matter. If that was what she wanted, that’s what he would do. She smiled—equal parts sweet and impish—and lowered her cheek to his chest. He froze for a moment, overwhelmed with new sensations. Her soft breasts pressed against his bare chest, only a thin strip of fabric between their bodies. She hooked her leg over his body, her bare thigh draped across both of his, the warm cleft between her legs pressed against him. Jay squeezed her tightly and inhaled the scent of lavender shampoo, coconut sunscreen, and Ella. He felt her heart beating against his stomach, rapid as his. He was hard. Rock hard. Harder than he’d ever been before. His erection shoved against the diaper’s soft padding, desperate to break from its prison and feel her. Finally in bed with Ella, and I’m wearing a diaper. Unbelievable. She ran a finger against his skin, tracing gentle S’s down his chest. Then his stomach. Then onto the elastic waistband of the diaper. She stopped... As always, a hefty sample is available for free - check it out! Now onto The Regression Center! Chapter 10 “Who’s weady for a diapee change?” Rosie asked in a sing-song voice, bending over him with her hands on her thighs. “Is it you, Tyger? Is baby Ty-Ty weady for hims to get a nice, clean diapee-wiapee on hims bum-bum?” Tyler didn’t trust himself not to glower at her, so he kept his eyes fixed on his shoes. “Yes please,” he said quietly. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Derek watching him from his spot on the playroom floor, but he didn’t care. At this point he’d be willing to beg if it meant being allowed out of his dirty diaper. He’d already soiled himself and stewed in it for the best part of an afternoon. Being polite now was hardly going to make things any more degrading than they already were. Rosie giggled. “I’m not surprised, sweetie! That diaper stinks! But we have a little routine we like to do here at ABC. When a boy needs his poopy diaper changed, he has to do the diapee dance first!” “The… the what?” “The diapee dance, Ty-Ty. You have to do a silly little song and dance for me before I change you.” Tyler felt his cheeks burning. “I’m not doing that,” he said flatly. Rosie cocked her head at him and smiled. “You will if you want a diaper change before you’re put to bed tonight, Tyler.” Tyler swallowed. He couldn’t spend all night with this foul thing wrapped around his ass. “I don’t know any songs,” he croaked. “I can’t do it.” Rosie tittered. “Of course you do, silly baby! You’ve heard plenty of songs since you arrived! But if you want a new one to dance along to, that’s just fine.” “Please, Ro- Miss Rosie,” he begged. She was a woman, after all. Surely he could appeal to her sense of pity. “Can’t you just get me out of this thing? Haven’t I been punished enough?” “It’s not about punishment, Tyger,” Rosie said gently. “Well, not just about punishment. It’s about breaking down that silly male ego of yours, for your own good. You’re here to be turned into the kind of boy who does silly little toddler dances at a woman’s request. Yes, it will be embarrassing, but you’ll be a much better boy for it. Now are you going to behave or do I have to call Miss Catherine in to spank your naughty bottom through that stinky diapee?” Tyler took a deep breath. He just had to make it through the rest of today and tomorrow, and then he’d be home free, with Connor’s help. “I’ll behave,” he mumbled. “Good boy! Then let’s get started. I know just the song for you, Ty-Ty!” Rosie took her phone out of a pocket and busied herself with it for a moment. “You’ll probably recognise the tune, but the lyrics are a bit special. This is a song about your Mommy coming to pick you up!” “What do I have to do?” Tyler asked sourly. “Since it’s a new song, you don’t have to worry about singing too much,” said Rosie, “but I do expect you to join in with the chorus after you’ve heard it the first time. It’s not hard to pick up, even for a boy. As for dancing, for the first verse, I want you to stomp your feet and wiggle about. For the second, you’re going to suck your thumb and swing your hips. And for the third and final verse, you can shake your diapered butt for me! Doesn’t that sound fun?” Tyler said nothing, but Rosie didn’t seem to expect a response. She was tapping away on her phone. “Ready, Tyger? Here we go!” The song started and Tyler recognised the tune to She’ll Be Coming Round The Mountain, but as promised, the lyrics were very different. He’ll be playing in the nursery when she comes! After a moment of hesitation and a warning look from Rosie, Tyler started to dance. He kept his gaze on the carpet as he stomped his feet and wiggled his body, dancing like a stupid uncoordinated toddler. He’ll be playing in the nursery when she comes! He’ll be playing in the nursery, playing in the nursery, playing in the nursery when she comes! Then the chorus came. Going goo-goo-gaga bah-bah-bah! Going goo-goo-gaga bah-bah-bah! Going goo-goo-gaga! Goo-goo-gaga! Goo-goo-gaga bah-bah-bah! Tyler gritted his teeth in anger. That’s what Rosie expected him to sing? The second verse started after that and, seething on the inside, Tyler shoved his thumb between his lips and began to suck. He’ll be sucking on his thumbie when she comes! He’ll be sucking on his thumbie when she comes! He’ll be sucking on his thumbie, sucking on his thumbie, sucking on his thumbie when she comes! “Going goo-goo-gaga bah-bah-bah!” Tyler sang once the chorus began again, pulling his wet thumb out of his mouth with a look of revulsion. “Going goo-goo-gaga bah-bah-bah! Going goo-goo-gaga! Goo-goo-gaga! Goo-goo-gaga bah-bah-bah!” He’d never forgive them for this, Tyler promised himself. Not Monica, not Rosie, not Catherine or Holly or Elanor or any of them. The third verse started. Almost over… He’ll be wearing dirty diapers when she comes! “Come on Tyger!” Miss Rosie urged. “Shake that padded booty!” He’ll be wearing dirty diapers when she comes! His face scarlet with humiliation, Tyler started to shake his rear from side to side. His loaded diaper swung heavily between his legs, and he could hear laughter around him, snickers from the women and babyish giggles from the regressed men. He’ll be wearing dirty diapers, wearing dirty diapers, wearing dirty diapers when she comes! “Going goo-goo-gaga bah-bah-bah!” he sang, tears stinging his eyes. “Going goo-goo-gaga bah-bah-bah! Going goo-goo-gaga! Goo-goo-gaga! Goo-goo-gaga bah-bah-bah!” The song ended, and Rosie hugged him tightly. “Good boy, Ty-Ty!” she cooed. Her breath tickled his ear. “Good baby!” He could feel her warm breasts pressing against him through the thin fabric of her dress and, despite his shame, his cock stirred inside its padded prison. He clenched his eyes shut to stop the tears threatening to spill down his cheeks, and buried his face in her shoulder. Even though he had a few inches of height on her and she had a slender frame, he felt so small in her arms in that moment. He barely paid attention to what she was saying as she stroked his back. He just wanted to get out of that room, away from all the watching, mocking eyes. But most of all, he wanted to get out of the awful diaper hanging from his waist. He felt dazed again. Was it the music, or was it just the public embarrassment? He was barely conscious of the short walk over to the changing tables that lined one wall of the room. He wished he could at least have had the privacy of that room where he’d been changed into his first diaper earlier that morning. Had he really spent less than a day in this asylum? So much had happened, and the nap in the middle of the afternoon had distorted his sense of time. “Hop up, Tyger,” Miss Rosie instructed, patting the changing table and smiling at him. Tyler did as he was told, laying down on the table and doing his best not to squish the mess in his pants against himself any more than it already was. Miss Rosie was gathering supplies; baby wipes, powder, and a fresh diaper. “I can take it off myself,” Tyler protested, once she reached for the tapes at his hips. “Babies don’t change their own diapees, sweetie,” chided Miss Rosie, ripping the tapes off one by one. Tyler quickly looked up at the ceiling before she pulled down the front of his diaper. He didn’t want to see what he’d done in his pants, but he couldn’t block out Miss Rosie’s voice. “Pee-YEW!” she exclaimed, pinching her nose and waving her hand in front of her face. “What a stinky baby! You’ve made such a big messy, Ty-Ty!” He couldn’t ignore the sudden increase in the potty smell either, or the sensation of the baby wipes passing over his skin. “Someone’s got a very poopy diaper, doesn’t hims?” Miss Rosie cooed as she wiped his crotch. “Yes hims does! And we haven’t even got started on your messy bottom yet!” Suddenly, Tyler felt a moistness wrapped around his cock. Rosie’s hands, pressing through the damp baby wipe, stroked up and down, and he felt himself getting hard. Then he gasped in pain as Miss Rosie’s hands pulled away and she gave his penis a sharp smack. “Bad baby, Tyler!” she scolded. “You shouldn’t be getting aroused by a dirty diaper change! That’s disgusting, little boy!” “I’m not…! That’s not what…!” “Honestly, boys can be so gross,” said Miss Rosie, ignoring his feeble splutters. She gave his manhood another smack, and his erection wilted. “If that happens again, Tyler, I’m going to lock up your itty bitty wee-wee in the tightest chastity cage I can find!” A chastity cage? Itty bitty? “Having trouble over here?” came another woman’s voice, and Miss Elanor appeared in his field of view, smirking down at him. “Tyler here just popped a little stiffie, that’s all,” said Miss Rosie. “During his diaper change? Eww!” “I know. I might need to make a note of it in his file. Is dat what I need to do, widdle guy? Does Miss Rosie need to wight down that baby Ty-Ty has a diapee fetish?” “No!” Tyler said in disgust. “Then there’d better not be any more naughty boners from you, little boy!” With that, she grabbed his ankles and lifted his legs into the air. “Oh my, what a big mess!” said Miss Elanor, stifling a laugh behind her hand. “Tell me about it,” said Miss Rosie, pulling the thoroughly used diaper out from underneath him and depositing it in the diaper pail with a heavy thud. “This is one of the yuckiest diapers I’ve ever had to change! Tyler’s quite the little cutie, but I don’t envy his Mommy!” “It’ll probably get better once he’s on a more appropriate diet,” said Miss Elanor. “Does his Mommy want to breastfeed him?” “Oh yes,” said Miss Rosie, as she got to work cleaning his mucky bottom. “She specifically asked if it would be possible to nurse him. She’ll be taking the necessary supplements to induce lactation over the next couple of weeks, so when Tyler’s all done here, he should be able to go home with a Mommy who can give him a full belly of breastmilk at least twice a day!” “Breastmilk?!” Tyler repeated. “That’s right, sweetie,” Miss Rosie said brightly. “Yummy breastmilk straight from Mommy’s boobies is the best thing for baby boys!” “You’d think someone getting his stinky diaper changed wouldn’t be so grossed out by something as innocuous as breastmilk,” said Miss Elanor. “But that’s boys for you.” She looked at him with something almost like pity. “Don’t worry Ty-Ty, I bet you’ll learn to love breastfeeding! Most of our boys do. After all, suckling from a pair of big, full breasts will be the closest you’ll get to doing grown-up things with a woman ever again!” Tyler was about to snarl a response, but when he opened his mouth he let out a gasp instead. Miss Rosie had just slipped a wipe-covered finger up his bottom. “Let’s get you all nice and clean,” she cooed. “I bet you’re the type who never used to wipe properly, so this is probably a new experience for you, isn’t it Tyler? I can just tell you’re the sort of boy who was always leaving wet spots, or worse, in his undies, so it’s a good thing all your undies are going to be extra absorbent from now on!” She picked up a bottle of baby powder and started dusting his bare bottom. “There we go!” she said. “Now you’ll smell a bit better!” She patted the powder in firmly, then lowered his legs and repeated the procedure around his crotch. This time he was able to stay soft. “Perfect!” she declared. “Now there’s only one thing left!” She held up a large disposable diaper that looked even thicker than the previous ones. “This is your night-time diapee, Tyger,” she said. “It’ll be coming off for your bath in just a few minutes, of course, but we can’t trust you not to piddle on the carpet in the meantime, can we Ty-Ty?” She slipped the huge diaper under him, pulled the padding up between his legs, and sealed him into it. “There.” Miss Rosie patted his crotch, looking satisfied. “Diaper change complete. Now it’s time for a bath, a bottle feed, and then it’s beddy-byes for big babies!”

@spark - I'm glad that Diaper Discipline resonated with you! That book was very much a labor of love. I'm excited to see what you come up with next.

Hey, Victoria Green here I'm enjoying what you're doing with this story @spark! I'm excited to hear that something I wrote inspired you. I wanted to add that all of my books, including the one that inspired this work, are also available on Smashwords.

@Bonsai Thank you for the thoughtful response! That makes a ton of sense and seems like a great way to attempt to retain some core of self. Unfortunately for Tyler (but fortunately for our story), he doesn't possess that level of emotional intelligence or stoic perspective.

Thanks for the feedback @Bonsai! I suspect Tyler is going to keep fighting, even if he's getting worn down. As for Connor, that's an interesting idea. The Center does seem to have quite a reach. What would you do in Tyler's shoes? Keep trying to get out? Embrace your fate?

Thanks dirtydingus84! Happy New Year to you, too

Finally! A new chapter of The Regression Center But first, here's a snippet from my new, 13k word Smashwords story: Diaper Heist. The heat in the packed space was getting intense. I glanced at Tim, hoping for some level of support, but he just stared straight ahead. “Here’s what I think,” Kayleigh said, her breath warm on my shoulder. “I think you’d be the one eating cake all night. Sitting there in your mom jeans, rubbing your crinkly diapie and thinking about mommy taking you over her knee and smacking that cute little bum of yours until it turned red as an autumn apple. Isn’t that right, baby boy?” “No. I mean. I don’t.” “You know, I bet if you had a strict mommy she’d make you mess that wittle diaper of yours.” She made a grunting sound and then patted the seat of my diaper. “Fill your pants up nice and full for her. Make you mommy’s wittle stinky bwitches.” The elevator doors opened and I rushed into the packed lobby. Kayleigh marched by a second later, shooting me a playful wink. The group that had been in there with us were silent as they walked past, then burst out laughing once they were a few steps away. As always, a hefty sample is available for free - check it out! Now onto The Regression Center! Chapter 9 "Thank you. Thank you." Tyler mumbled his appreciation to Holly and the nanny who'd helped him out of the walker over and over again, repeating the words like a prayer or mantra that would ward against ever going back into the hated contraption. Holly smiled condescendingly, and the large nanny chuckled, arms crossed. The rest of the students just watched, mostly slack-jawed. Derek had been released too, but Tyler ignored him, unsure of what to say to him after the whole incident. That he'd just thanked his captors for letting him climb from the seventh circle of hell to the sixth wasn’t lost on Tyler. At that moment, he felt a warm glow of genuine appreciation. Sure, he was still trapped in this baby prison. And a loaded diaper was still strapped to his waist. But at least he wasn't sitting in the pile of hot mush now. "Very good minding your manners, Tyger," Holly said. "See, class, even troublemakers like our little Tyger can learn how to behave like good boys." Tyler blushed. "Now run along and play," Holly said. "You all have a free hour before tubby time." The class ambled and toddled out, laughing and babbling. He followed after them, unsure of where to go but certain he didn't want to hang around for a conversation with Holly. An hour of free time would've sounded amazing after the constant stream of activities and harassment had it not meant that he'd spend all of it in a reeking, filthy diaper. He couldn't sit down--wouldn't sit down. And he had enough self-respect and awareness not to get too close to the others in his odorous state. Not that half of them seemed to notice or care, but he cared. A bath, on the other hand, would feel amazing. No caveats or reservations there. Sure, it would be another humiliating production intended to debase him. But that was just the expectation for every activity around here. He imagined it would be like all of those old western movies where the cowboy settles into a steaming tub of water, washing away months of dust and grime from the trail. Throw in an icy Heineken and some tunes and he might actually forget his problems for a few moments. Just stripping out of this filthy diaper, and— Wait. Stripping down for a bath meant taking everything off. Including his shoes. No way he would be able to keep the note hidden then. They'd make an example of him. Again. Goosebumps ran up his neck. What would that even look like? They loved to escalate things. Would they put him back in the messy diaper? That was the absolute worst thing he could imagine--settling back into the cold mush. And if that was the worst he could imagine, they’d probably come up with something even worse. Which meant he had an hour to get the letter to Connor mailed. A knot of anxiety twisted in his stomach. An hour wasn't much time. Not when this place was locked down like a penitentiary. He barely had a minute here or there when he wasn’t being directly observed by a staff member. The processing room seemed like the best bet. Though there was also Holly's office, which seemed to have a lot of the typical office supplies. Both were almost certainly locked. But he'd sweet-talked his way into—and out of—more challenging situations. Still, if he had to try his charisma on someone, Holly would be at the bottom of the list. For all her sweet smiles, she'd made it clear she had an eye on him. Tyler made his way through the rooms and hallways to the front processing area. The processing room had a long glass window and counter on each side, with a number of desks and office equipment in between. One of those glass walls looked out on a waiting room and, beyond that, the free world. Even now, a young man stood in front of that window in the waiting room, staring at his feet while an angry, middle-aged woman next to him spoke to a Regression Center employee. Poor bastard had no idea what he was in for. The other glass wall looked out on the interior of the center, with its bright primary colors and collection of baby-inmates. That boring patch of office in between, with its gray carpets and its water cooler and its computers, looked like the most inviting place Tyler had ever seen. If he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine walking back into his own office, employees telling him 'good morning,' asking how his weekend was, joking about his golf game. Then his secretary would bring in his coffee, prepared just the way he liked it, with— "Excuse me? Young man?" Tyler snapped out of his daydream. One of the office employees stood in front of the glass window. A middle-aged woman with retro-style glasses and a hairstyle that belonged in the 60s. She tapped the glass with a long, painted fingernail. "Oh, hi." "Do you need something?" she asked. "Yes, I…" he hesitated. He hadn't really thought this part through. He glanced down at her name tag. "How are you doing today, Deborah? That’s a lovely name, by the way." She frowned. "I'm calling security." She reached for a phone that sat on the counter. "No! No. Please?" She left her hand resting on the phone. He had nothing to offer her--nothing on him, at least. And he couldn't exactly threaten her, either, which left the truth. Or at least something in the neighborhood of it. "I made a weewy nice card for my mommy," he grinned like a dope, choking down the bile. “She weewy wikes dinosauws so I colored her a dinosauws.” The woman's expression shifted from one of suspicion to one of annoyance. "That's nice, sweetie. Why don't you run along now and let the grownups get back to work." "Well, my mommy isn't here. But I cans maiw it to her and she wiw get it and be sooo happy!" He clapped his hands like a clown and smiled his biggest, dopiest smile. "So you want me to mail it for you?" she asked, one eyebrow raised. "I'll maiw it. I just needs an envewope and a stamp." She frowned. "And some gwitter too! She wikes gwitter." She picked up the phone. "Can I have security to the reception area, please? We have a potential 408." Tyler put his hand against the glass. "No no! Don't do that. Sorry. I'll leave you alone." She continued to stare at Tyler as she spoke into the phone. "The boy is belligerent." She sniffed the air and her frown deepened. "And he has a full diaper, too." Tyler turned and booked it down the hallway, not waiting for the hulking nannies to show up and escort him off to…god knows what. Every room seemed full of guys: playing with blocks, watching childish videos, sitting in class. There were nearly as many staff members too, lecturing and correcting and watching. There! A sign for the playground over a door. Tyler pushed through the door and burst into the outside world. He closed his eyes against the impossibly bright sunlight and sucked in a lungful of freedom. No baby powder or stale urine, just fresh air with a tinge of car fumes. Even his own stink was a bit muted in the wide open space. He slowly opened his eyes again. The playground was unremarkable: the usual swings, slides, monkey bars, and ride-on bouncy toys you’d see at any park. A handful of guys played on the playground equipment. Two held hands and swung on the swings, or at least attempted to. They kept slamming into each other, giggling like a couple of school girls. One guy was hanging from the monkey bars, his crop-top shirt riding up and exposing half of his stomach and his bulbous diaper. Two other guys sat in a massive sandbox, pushing the sand around with yellow Tonka trucks, making puttering and grunting noises with their mouths. And nowhere in sight was a staff member, which was shocking, but only until his view expanded to take in the larger scene. A tall chainlink fence surrounded the area just beyond the playground equipment. And on the other side of that fence were a concrete walkway and three park benches, evenly space. Like a zoo, more than anything. Instead of some monkeys or a zebra, Tyler and his fellow prisoners were the animals, rooting around in filth for others' amusement. Of course, a few people were watching the weirdos. Who wouldn't turn down an opportunity to see a modern-day freakshow? Nothing made a person feel better about their dead-end job and loveless marriage than a bunch of weirdos running around with their pisspants on display. You might have been passed over for that promotion and have a mountain of credit card debt weighing you down, but hey, at least you weren't like these baby freaks, right? A young woman sat on a bench, sipping an iced coffee and taking it all in. A couple stood shoulder-to-shoulder on the concrete pathway. Middle-aged, they whispered back and forth and seemed confused and disgusted, as if they were unsure whether they should call the police or a priest. And, of course, there was a group of young men—always a reliable demographic when humiliation was on the offer. Late teens or early twenties, they were pressed right up against the chain link fence, pointing and laughing. Tyler could only hear snippets of their conversation. "...can you imagine…" "...looks like he likes it…" "...twenty bucks says the chubby one shit himself…" Tyler startled at that last bit, then saw that they were pointing to the guy on the monkey bars. Then one of the three, a guy in a denim jacket covered in band patches, pointed at Tyler. "Hey, looks like we got a new one." Tyler turned away and they broke into laughter. He started to go back inside, then paused, his hand on the doorknob. He didn't have much time left before the bath. And even fewer opportunities. He could throw the note away and buckle down for an extended stay. After all, he could and would rain legal hellfire down after he got out, regardless of when that was. They might have some leverage while he was here, but the moment he walked through those doors, it was over. But if he could expedite that process? Wake up to a bevy of lawyers with subpoenas beating down the doors like a SWAT team in Tom Ford suits? Oh, how delicious that would be. He'd already dreamed up a few special provisions for the lawyers to include in the lawsuit. They’d balk, of course—attorneys always wanted to go for a simple, straightforward cash settlement. But Tyler craved something more personally fulfilling than a fat check: he needed to see the women who worked here put through everything he'd gone through. Everything. Which left him with one option, distasteful as it was. He pulled up his big boy pants— metaphorically speaking, since he didn't actually have pants—and marched over to the pack of cackling hyenas. They appeared shocked and delighted that he'd approached. "Are there any rules against feeding them?" a guy with a shaved head asked. "I could go get some stale bread." One of the others, a lanky guy with a too-large Ed Hardy shirt sneered. "Should have brought a baby bottle for the loser. Want some milk, lil fella?" The one in denim ground his crotch against the chainlink. "I got something for him to suck on right here." The dolts all laughed as if it was the height of comedy. "I'll pass on the stale bread, thanks," Tyler said, trying to keep his temper in check. They all looked at each other, ooohhing and ahhhhing at this twist. Tyler wondered how often they stood out here, laughing and mocking, and concluded it must be a regular thing. The must-see TV of the real world. He’d remember their faces when he got out, maybe have someone pay them a special visit. But for now, he needed them. He stepped closer to the fence. "But there is something I want." The tall one covered his nose with his hand. "Oh, shit. That smell. Man, is that you?" They all made a big show of putting their hands and shirts over their noses, gagging and laughing. Tyler felt a rush of heat in his face. He smashed his palm against the chain link, rattling it. "Hey! I get it, okay? I smell worse than an open sewer in July. Like a bag of dog shit that burned just a bit too long on someone's front porch. Anything you can think or say, I've already thought worse. Let's move the fuck on." This had the desired effect: they were paying attention now and were temporarily surprised that someone with their full mental faculties was actually addressing them and taking control of the situation. "So look, I need a small favor. Despite what my clothes might lead you to believe, I'm not an idiot like Baby Huey over there.” He jerked his thumb at the guy on the monkey bars. “I don't expect you to help me because of our shared humanity or some nonsense like that. I'm willing to pay for your help. Cash." "Bro, ten thousand dollars and I wouldn't change your rank ass," shaved-head said. Tyler put his hands up in a show of agreement. "I don't blame you. Fortunately for you, the lovely ladies who work here take care of that. What you’re gonna do is deliver a note to a friend of mine. If you do that, he'll give you $500 bucks. Just tell him it's from Tyler and that I'll pay him back when I’m out." "And why should we believe a guy with a load of shit in his pants?" denim asked. "Because if I'm telling the truth, you make an easy five hundred bucks. And if I'm lying, you still have a great story for the bar. 'Remember the time some ugh-oh gross-oh in a diaper asked us for help?' Should get lots of laughs." They all looked at each like they were considering it. Or maybe they were already trying to figure out how they'd divide five hundred dollars three ways. Tyler suppressed a smile—everyone liked easy money. Denim, who acted like the self-appointed leader of the gang of delinquents, spoke up. "Alright. But you gotta do something for us first." "Five hundred bucks is plenty," Tyler snapped. Denim shrugged. "Okay, then find someone else to do your chores, diaperboy." The others snickered at that. "Fine," Tyler ground out. "What is it?" "Show us what a baby you are," denim said. "What?" "You heard me. Convince me you're a real, pathetic wittle baby and maybe I'll deliver the note for your sorry ass self." Tyler hesitated for just a second. Time was running out and he'd already wasted too much of it. He didn't know these assholes and they didn't know him. What did a little more debasement among strangers matter at this point? He dropped onto his hands and knees, wincing at the wood chips biting into his flesh, and began to crawl around in front of them. He glanced up and saw they were enjoying this but nowhere near satisfied yet. His stomach turned. "Call for your mommy," one of them demanded. “No, your daddy,” another said. "But stick that pacifier in your mouth first." Tyler stuck the pacifier in his mouth, working the fat, rubber bulb as far into his cheek as he could. Still, his cries for 'daddy' were only semi-intelligible, slobbery calls for help. "Aww, someone needs their diaper changed, huh?" "Look at his hanging between his legs. Thing probably weighs a hundred pounds." "Sit down in your mess, diaperboy." Tyler hesitated for a moment, swaying in place. They pounced on his reluctance. "Do it! Sit in it, diaperboy!" This developed into a chant, each 'it' punctuated with a shake of the fence. "Sit in it! Sit in it! Sit in it!" Tyler dropped back onto his butt, cringing at the mess squishing around in his diaper. "Fucking pathetic," the lanky one said. "What do you wanna bet his old lady is taking a big cock right now?" "She's never gonna want his nasty ass again," denim said. "Probably went hunting for cock the moment she dropped him here." He pantomimed giving a blowjob. Tyler surged forward and smashed his hand against the fence. "Shut your mouth about my wife you little bitch." They all recoiled. Denim looked pissed, then his anger turned into a smile. He shrugged. "Sure, bro. Whatever you say. You guys ready to roll?" "Hey. No. We had a deal." Denim scoffed. "You can't make a deal with a baby. That'd be like making a deal with a dog." He stopped, a pensive look on his face. "Oh, wait. Dogs actually shit where they're supposed to, don't they?" "Listen man, I'll make it a thousand bucks," Tyler said, hearing the desperation in his own voice. Denim just stared, but the other two looked like they were considering the offer. "Easiest money you'll ever make it," Tyler said. Denim dropped down to his hands and knees, pressed his face right up to the fence, then waved his phone around. "Oh yeah? I caught the entirety of your show on video. This shit is gonna blow up. I mean, it's gonna fuckin' destroy on Youtube." "That wasn't our deal." "That wasn't our deal," denim said in a mocking, sing-songy voice. He stood up again. "Have a nice life, freak." He walked off, middle finger raised over his shoulder. The other two hesitated for a second, looking at each other and then him. Tyler shook the fence. "Screw him. A thousand, each, guys. Just gotta deliver a note. That's all." The lanky one looked at denim, then shook his head. "Sorry bro. Good luck with your whole—" he waved his hands, face distorted in disgust "— situation." They both walked off after denim. Tyler dropped his head into his hands. This had to be the bottom, right? If not, he wasn't sure he could handle another drop. "Excuse me," a woman's voice said. The young woman from the bench stood near the fence. Her expression was hard to read, but he didn't think it was obviously cruel. But then again, best to expect the worst. "Come to laugh at the freak? Get in line." "I heard what you said. A thousand dollars?" Tyler looked up, suddenly hopeful. "Yes. Cash. No questions asked." “What's the address?"