ausdpr

Awesome, excellent way for Laura-Holly to end up in diapers.

Less FetLife posting, moar story writing! (those were valuable seconds in which Laura-Holly could have come closer to learning to be an obedient girl in diapers, really she's such a naughty thing that I think she has quite well earned it)

Argh, this is such a tease, I need more.

We are pretty awesome.

Cute captions , I and a few others do them from time to time over at the sissykiss caption board. (some of mine)

Fun, as always.

Exactly , if it were a story with a male protagonist, I'd probably just see it as an extreme fantasy and grin along with it. The same didn't register immediately with a female character, and so I was initially sympathetic for her, however I then remembered that the author is female and was able to appreciate that she was just channelling the fantasy in much the same way. It's fun hearing it from another side for once, at its core it's the same idea, which is nice to know.

I was wondering how you were going to end it there, this definitely came as a welcome surprise. Excellent story, can't wait to see what you do next.

I started into the soft and cuddly stuff for a short while recently, and do think that it could certainly work with a girl if I was smitten with her (much easier too), but in my fantasies, it turns out, this kind of stuff is what I always end up finding far more fun. Learning more about just how much I enjoy the domination & submission side of it, and which specific parts, has just made it all the more exciting. In conclusion - write more clinediap.

Yeah I can imagine that it might be confusing. The intent is essentially something more subtle. The best way to describe it is, perhaps, that the character is not meant to be a real individual (somebody who will suffer for this), rather they are meant to be the author (or the reader, if of a similar mindset). The author/reader gets an imaginary rush from this scenario, but knows that they probably wouldn't want to experience the real thing. (for example there is apparently a high prevalence of women with rape fantasies, but that's not to say that they want that in real life. Playing with a partner, however, would usually not be traumatic, and rather would be most of our ideal sex. I for one have essentially no interest in intercourse, enough to have turned it down - however roleplaying these kinds of scenarios would be irresistible ) We had a discussion about this in one of the abdl groups on fetlife recently.

You guys have no appreciation for extreme bdsm fantasy. It's not torture in the alternate world, it's the best sex imaginable.

I had similar thoughts (feeling that the character was being tortured), but, then recalled that it's just a personal fantasy which she's exploring for herself. When I write male characters, I do terrible things to them, because I'm just placing myself in my most filthy fantasies. Looking at the fiction from that perspective, it's suddenly a very different thing, an admission of personal desires, and it's much easier for me to enjoy because they are not so different from my own. That being said, I did decide that if I ever write about characters experiencing such things again, that they would have to get the same sexual rush out of it that I do. There's no desire to torture innocents, just to put them in situations where I would (in fantasy) get a given buzz, so that I (and others) can live it out through their story.

Oh my. Messy diapers, knee bouncing, breast feeding, sexual denial (while having to listen to her captors go at it), flashback to having been trapped in a crib while the twins held a party, mention of her two weeks in daycare... You miss deserve some kind of prize. If only I could despatch a dominant nanny to fetch you right now - willing or not, I think you definitely deserve to receive just such a reward.

In the version I rewrote, the two characters were actually meeting up for the first time after having talked online about their fetish. The 'Mommy' and 'Daddy' owned the website which the two were communicating on, and decided on keeping them - offering them a drugged car ride where they transformed into very concerned parents... A big part of it was the sexual denial, forced 24/7 babification beyond what even they wanted, etc.

Hrm, so you don't mind male little characters? I was considering including one in my current story, but then thought that seeing as you're currently my most vocal fan, and never seem to include those in your own stories, that it might not be much appreciated, and the inclusion or non-inclusion wouldn't really change my story much. I figured you might not be at all inclined towards the less-pretty sex.

I'm intrigued. As Bonsai said it's not entirely new, but the writing's good. While I don't normally enjoy a description of a character, somehow you made it interesting. (Though not sure that I'd want to read a story about a pregnant diaper wearer, if that's where it's heading)

Oh while I still speak some, I can't read it all any more, so it's pretty useless for getting around on the Internet.

Author's Note: This is a story I wrote quite a long time ago, hopefully better than my even older stories that only the Internet knows what became of, but still pretty bad in certain ways. I uploaded it elsewhere but took it down, as it's just a rambling fantasy, but people apparently liked it so much that they asked me to bring it back, so here it is. (I don't intend to extend it. I did a massive re-write of the theme some time later, but after writing a giant lead-in to start the story, eventually decided that I was over that particular fantasy.) ----------------------- Raising Very Naughty Children by Ausdpr Part One This was not the way things were supposed to go. All my life I had had a secret fascination with the world of diaper fetishism, and despite being relatively good looking I was still a shy and reclusive virgin in my early twenties. I had never had the money nor privacy to indulge my fetish in any way, and finally I decided it was time to begin chasing the things I wanted. I had tracked down a woman online who promised to make all my dreams come true for a weekend, and so I simply went without telling anybody where I was going. As I stood in the corner with my hands on my head and my rear end exposed through the backflap of my one-piece sailor boy outfit I sobbed at my new life. A few metres away stood a girl in a pink baby dress in a similar predicament. I think daddy might have punished her worse after our new parents accused us of not playing nicely when we were found sitting in opposite corners of our playpen, our toys untouched. They had gone to great efforts to find two virgins they could keep as their sweet little son and daughter, both who had come willingly under the assumption it was only a weekend with a mummy/daddy respectively, neither of whom had ever acted out any of their fantasies. Today was our first day, and a few mere hours ago we had both tasted daddy's belt across our backsides when we had said we wanted to leave. They had told us off so effectively both of us actually felt like the naughty children guilty of talking back to grown ups who would get the punishment we needed. Compared to us, they were big, mature, and confident. We were un-assertive and shy and quickly found ourselves unable to match their tongue lashings about naughty children and further humiliated when they easily overpowered us. Soon mummy, a domestic yet large woman, came over and pulled our diapers back up over our red bottoms. We had a blue and pink pacifier plopped in our mouths and clipped to our sailor onsie and dress respectively, then told to get into the kitchen quick smart. We waddled as fast as we could and both wailed a little when we arrived and saw the babyish yet appropriately sized plastic and padded highchairs awaiting us. Mummy lifted us both up and tied bibs around our necks, and turned to prepare our bottles. For the first time the girl and I were brave enough to look at each other with more than humiliated glances. I had to admit the beautiful eyes looking back at me from under the bonnet were very cute, but then felt a wave of humiliation as I realised sexuality was probably permanently off limits for me, after all I was specifically selected for being so pathetic to still be a sweet and pure virgin in my twenties. I couldn't help but sneak a peak at her thick disposable underwear poking out under the hem of her short dress as she sat, she caught me perving and quickly turned red with embarrassment and anger at the same time. Great, I had stuffed that up too. Before we had time to react to what just happened mummy was back and pulling out our binkies to insert bottles of warm milk into our mouths. I didn't think to take it in my hand straight away and quickly recoiled as she gave me a stern tongue lashing about not being difficult and slapped my upper thigh. The girl's bottle went down a little more smoothly and mummy coo'd and praised her and gave her a kiss on the cheek. I saw her shudder and knew she came here with as little desire to interact with females as I did with males. I sobbed again as I thought of how easily overpowered I was by daddy, and how struggling on his lap he had handled me like an errant child. Mummy then bought big bowls of something thick and pasty looking, and proceeding to coo and scowl as we either opened our mouths to accept the horrible mush or tried to gather the will to fight her by keeping them shut. We both broke very quickly each time when she had to do was give us a stern look, and I think both knew we had earned some extra punishment later already. The bowls themselves weren't baby sized, and I was getting very full. Before I knew it I felt the telltale pressure on my bladder that told me the big bottles of milk had contained something to help us along the way. I started to squirm in my highchair feeling the crotch of my diaper push against the tight safety harness that ran between our legs, which was only making the situation worse. The pressure was building fast, and I glanced up to the other highchair to see the baby girl struggling even as the crotch of her white diaper darkened to the muffled sound of a stream of liquid hitting cloth. She was mortified as mummy stopped feeding me and returned to stick two fingers into the front of her diaper, then asked baby to tell mummy what she did. As the girl stammered she had wet her diaper, I felt myself become overpowered and warm liquid quickly spread throughout my diaper. Mummy turned with a look of surprise and exclaimed she had two very wet babies in need of a change. My heart raced a little at the thought of being changed by her, though I saw the girl's face drop in horror. Mummy seemed to contemplate the situation for a brief moment than clapped her hands and called daddy in. Now my face dropped in horror as she explained the situation and daddy came and unbuckled me from my highchair. Mummy carried the girl away on her hip to somewhere else in the house and daddy took me to the kitchen bench which ran through the room. I was feeling every kind of humiliation as daddy unbuttoned my onsie, pulled down my blue diaper cover and started untaping my super thick disposable. Before I could even process the dread I felt the cool air on my exposed crotch, and daddy was easily spreading my legs with his strong hands. The wiping was unbearable and I felt myself bubble a little of the baby food broth onto my lips as I began to cry, which dribbled down onto my already messy bib. Daddy sighed and left me there naked from the waist down, and went to the highchair to retrieve my pacifier. Before putting it in he first wiped down my mouth with a cloth from the sink, which was almost as bad as the diaper wipes. Mummy returned already with the girl in the same outfit but now wearing pink underwear over her even thicker diaper. She said she had decided the babies probably needed a nap and handed daddy a thicker nighttime diaper. She bounced the girl on her hip while both watched as daddy slid the diaper under my rear end and powdered my relatively embarrassingly small member. Soon the diaper came up and then my blue diaper cover, which matched the tight little sailor onsie and hat. Daddy gave me an unexpected kiss on the cheek which burned me with humiliation, and then slid a strong arm under my thick bottom and lifted me up. We were taken to a room with a single crib, which both excited and scared me, and put on the floor under daddy's supervision while mummy went to get us another big bottle each. Daddy carried the diaper changing supplies to the giant nursery cupboard at the wall and we both gasped as he opened it and we saw the sheer amount of diapers, dresses, diaper panties, little boy's undies, and humiliating outfits stored in there. We really were in for the long haul, and were going to be their sweet children regardless of what we wanted. We both struggled to finish our bottles when mummy returned, especially because neither of us was overly keen to embrace a permanent replacement of toilets with diapers. I had noticed two potties at the bottom of the cupboard and had some hope, though knew it would probably never progress beyond mock potty training and spankings for leaky training pants. Mummy and Daddy told us to face them, and we both looked up at them while drinking our bottles sitting on our thickly diapered rears. They told us they loved us very much and were doing what was best for us, because we weren't made to survive in the big bad world. We were both sobbing at this, because neither of us wanted this permanently. They explained they were going to make sure we were the best children we could be, and no nonsense would be tolerated at this house or grandma's (we both baulked a little at the mention of "grandma's" house). We were then told to give them each a kiss on the cheek, starting with me. I tried to avert my eyes but mummy grabbed me by the shoulders and told me to look her in the eyes and smile before I gave her my kiss. It was one of the hardest things I've ever done, and I received a bit of a swat on my right thigh from daddy for not doing it right. The side of the crib was lowered and we were placed in on our backs sharing the one long pillow. A thick blanket was pulled over us and a mobile playing nursery rhymes was started above us. Our pacifiers were popped back in, they set a baby monitor just out of reach and left. Neither of us moved, neither of us knew if we were being watched. The room was dimmed but still relatively light, and we both were feeling the awkwardness set in. The silence was broken by a whimper and the muffled sound of pee entering a diaper again, I actually felt the vibrations of her filling her diaper through the crib. Soon I felt the duratic effects too and my diaper was soaked. We had only been in bed for about ten to twenty minutes when it happened but it felt like a lifetime. I struggled with all my will to tap the girl lying next to me on the shoulder. She rolled over with her back to me which I found a little infuriating, after all she was my equal here and our situation was no more my fault than hers. I shook her shoulder again and she turned around glaring at me, then did something I never expected. She removed her pacifier, glared at me for a moment as if to tell me she could at least deal with me, then wailed for daddy into the baby monitor. He answered her call within moments and stormed in and demanded to know what all the racquet was about, looking a little surprised at her unexpected call for him. She recoiled suddenly as she realised she wanted nothing more to do with the parents. Burning red she changed her mind and stammered she had wet her diaper. He slipped two fingers into the crotch of her diaper and angrily said we were in nighttime diapers and would be changed after our nap, and no more silly business would be tolerated from naughty children who were already in line for a good spanking after today's "performances". We both felt miserable after that, and he said he was going to check in on us in twenty minutes and if either of us wasn't napping like a good child he would spank us both. We both knew we weren't going to be able to sleep sharing a crib in the afternoon still soaking our diapers as more waves of the bottles came through. We did our best to look asleep when he came back though, and he started up the mobile before leaving again. From somewhere else in the house we heard classical music begin playing and the sound of the adults laughing as wine glasses clanged around the living room. They were doing their own adult thing totally inconsequential of us, and we felt literally reduced to unimportant children put down for a nap at the very least to get us out of their hair. I gambled that the adults couldn't hear anything through the baby monitor over the music they were playing, and tried to murmur an introduction to the girl next to me through my pacifier. I learned her situation was almost identical to mine, she was a shy virgin curious about diaper fetishism as I had been, who had never indulged in any of this. She had come here expecting some one-on-one time with a daddy cumulating in sex and had instead found herself locked into a life of floral dresses as a sweet little girl. She then told me she badly needed to do a "number two" - and wasn't at all interested in using the diaper for it. As I feared I soon too felt the effects of the thick food we were fed earlier, and we squirmed next to each other in thick wet diapers trying to avoid a shared fear. By the time the adults returned the room had the smell of poop and talcum powder to it, and we were both lying on our stomachs sobbing. The grown ups didn't pay much attention to our predicament and instead seemed fascinated by the large gift-wrapped box they bought in, exclaiming they had a present for our first day. We were both wary of what lay within, but after removing us from our crib they insisted we open it. To our dismay there were two rockinghorses, a pink plastic pony for her and a wooden flat-seater for me. They clapped their hands in delight and told us to give them both a kiss on the cheeks again as a way of showing our thanks, replaced our binkies, then pushed us towards our horses. We both shook our heads and went wide eyed as they lowered us onto the horses in our messy diapers. We had otherwise done a good job of staying off our read ends and we soon found ourselves rocking faster and faster at their insistence. As the present opening wound down the girl looked a little nautious, and I imagined I must have as well. Mummy and Daddy asked us if we were ok and Mummy put her hand to our foreheads to check if we had a temperature. She pondered for a moment then decided there was only one way to be sure and that we needed to be cleaned up post haste. Our dirty diapers were removed and using the corners the adults managed to clean up most of the result of our predicament. We were both stripped naked (which excited me since I had never seen a girl naked before in the flesh, though I tried to contain it) and led to a bathroom. The adults had shaved us both on our initial arrival when we thought things were still going to plan, and we stood next to each other in a tub as they used a detachable shower head and cloth to rinse our bottoms. Big fluffy towels came next and mummy dried us down while daddy went to watch "the game". I had never really followed any sport and felt demasculinized again. Mummy tussled my hair and said I would get to ride my horsy all the time from now on and should stop looking so blue. We were led back to the nursery and there mummy had us line up next to a wooden chair she sat on. She pulled a big rectal thermometer and tub of gel from the low wooden cupboard that sat next to the chair and to my relief ordered the baby girl over her lap first. The girl whimpered as the thermometer went in, and mummy said she needed at least 3 readings of a minute each. Finally it was my turn and I felt my masculinity rush away as I let out a little squeal when mummy inserted the thermometer into my bottom. I tried to recover my pride from it by staying dead rigid and uninterested, but I couldn't and began to sob the second time it went in. Mummy called Daddy in and said I was crying, and he easily scooped me up and bounced me around naked telling me his little boy would always have his big strong daddy there for him, and it was expected for children to behave as I was. This just burned me worse, and I felt both childish and unmasculine. We were taken back to the nursery and mummy put us both in thick cloth diapers on a changing table, with clear plastic panties and a faint aqua top for me and yellow panties with a tiny white cotton shirt for her. Her hair was done up with two big pink bows on either side, and we were led back to our playpen and told this time we better be good children, or we could go through the entire process of the day again. I didn't know what that meant but when mummy and daddy returned to sit on the couches next to the playpens I got a sinking feeling that we were required to humiliate ourselves by acting childish. Mummy glanced up from a book she was reading titled "How to deal with spoiled step-children: A complete parent's guide to turning a naughty brat into a charming little boy and a self-centred princess into an angelic sweety" - and asked us why we weren't playing. I fumbled around and picked up a toy koala, while the girl found she had been set in the corner full of dolls. The parents looked at us expectedly and we began to bounce the toys around on the ground as if they were walking on the moon. "You two better learn to play together much faster" daddy snapped, and we both went wide eyed and scrambled towards each other, where we bounced the toys in criss-crossing paths. Apparently content, the grown ups went back to their reading, occasionally asking expectedly why we hadn't played with a certain toy yet, which we would always scramble to switch out before they got angry. By the end of the ordeal I was holding a stuffed bear and she was holding a very femme princess dolly. The adults told us we had had enough playing for the day and it was time for dinner and bed at 5:30pm. Before we were removed from the playpen though, they told us the toys we were holding would be our new companions, and we must have them in our arms at all times to learn to appreciate all the grown ups do for us, even when sleeping. We were ordered to thank them and eached hugged our bear and doll between our arm and torso, and waddled after them off to the kitchen. This time daddy fed me and mummy fed the girl, and I recognised some of the mixture of the muck in our giant bowls to be crushed pees, prunes, and pumpkin. We were given a bottle before the feeding and handed another before being taken by the hand to the nursery. Waddling with a bottle in one hand and keeping my teddy in the crook of my elbow proved to be a challenge, and I was more than a little distracted by the diapered butt of the cute girl waddling in front of me. I realised I must look as ridiculously babied as well, and felt the horror again that as a child such things were definitely going to be denied to me. As if reading my thoughts mummy exclaimed she was so glad she had two such pure little children to make sweet angles out of. We were changed into thick night time diapers and full sleepers and ordered to climb up into the crib holding our bottles and dollies one by one. The mobile was started again and we were both kissed on the foreheads, then mummy and daddy spent a moment with their arms around each other beaming down on us drinking out of our bottles. The lights went out, and this time it was darker. We both lay in shame again, terrified of how we might upset the grown ups tomorrow, this time not speaking for fear of the baby monitor. Eventually I felt myself overcome with drowsiness, presumably from something in the bottle, and drifted off for my first night thickly diapered in a crib. It was not at all like I had wanted it to be. Part Two The next day was very unexpected. We both woke fairly early to the sunrise in soaked hot diapers, and whimpered in our crib for a few hours until the grown ups finally got up. Much to our dismay we were taken straight to the highchairs and stuffed with juice and oats before finally having our soaked overnight diapers removed and placed in a tub together. Mummy washed us both down which neither of us found particularity free from embarrassment. I preferred mummy over daddy at least and was a little excited over the girl sitting next to me in the tub, but hated being on display like this. When we were led back to the nursery to my surprise we weren't rediapered. Instead mummy pulled up a tight pair of blue and white boy's panties onto me with extra padding in the crotch, followed by a denim overall with tiny short shorts. The girl was dressed in tight white cotton panties laced with pink elastic and a small barbie logo stretched across one side of her rear, followed by a tiny alice in wonderland dress that didn't quite cover the back of her panties when lifted by her ample bottom. There were lacy white socks and flat black mary janes for her, and thomas the tank engine socks with tiny blue children's shoes for me. I began to worry at this, I never expected to be taken outside and certainly not be allowed out of diapers, could it mean I might possibly escape? Daddy entered with a diaper bag which many disposables and outfits were packed into and I felt my heart sinking. I figured we would be going through quite a lot before the end of today. Our hair was brushed and our rears swatted as we were shood towards the garage. When we got there we discovered a large family car with large babyseats in the back we could just squeeze into. Daddy fastened a belt buckle right in the middle of my crotch and I turned every shade of red as he worked it in and out getting it nice and tight. Now with just this thin layer of tight material between my member and his working hands I actually wanted to be back in a diaper for protection. I glanced to my side and saw the losing battle the girl next to me was having with hem line trying to cover her panties, which were also pressed tight against her crotch by the belt buckle. She looked up to make sure I wasn't watching again, and I think I looked away in time. In this crazy place I needed at least one friend, but I was constantly overwhelmed between my own embarrassment and my finding her stunning in her childish outfit. The car pulled out and we both repressed little yelps as we realised every bump of the way we were going to feel the belt buckles tightened against our sexes. Eventually we were away from the suburbia and pulled into an empty carpark next to a park. I groaned as I realised they were fully intent on treating us as their children even if it meant us going into public in barely passable outfits. We were led through mostly empty paths and playgrounds with daddy firmly holding my hand and mummy firmly holding the girls. On the few chances we did pass somebody we didn't seem quite so odd unless they looked closely, and out here nobody seemed too inclined to care. Eventually we came to an empty playground and were told by a beaming mummy and daddy that we were to make the best use of our outing time, with a little swat on the bum to get us stumbling towards the playground. We looked back over our shoulders and saw daddy had pulled out a camera, which he waved cheerfully over the top of. We were both scarlet as we awkwardly climbed over things flashing panties and hiking up tiny short shorts, desperately wondering if there was some way in which we were close to freedom. I heard a few snaps from the camera, usually at times I least wanted such as bending over the top of a climbing net or crawling through a transparent plastic tunnel. Suddenly I heard a yell and the girl was off. She was sprinting across the grass away from the playground with her tiny dress flapping wildly above her panty waist. I sat in awe at her bravery since I don't think I could have ever stood up to the adults, even their scoldings made me shrink let alone their sheer physical dominance. Daddy was after her and before I knew what had happened she was being marched back with his hand around her wrist, her eyes wide as she approached mummy who had whipped out a wooden spoon. From my vantage in the playground I tried to be invisible as the private spanking was carried out, hoping they wouldn't find some way to pass blame on to me for not being a good enough playmate or example. It was furious and eventually her panties came down and it just got worse. She struggled and yelled muffled cries through her pacifier which they had dug out of the diaper bag with the wooden spoon. When they were done they barked at me to get down which I did so skittishly but as fast as I could, I did my best to be obedient after witnessing that. I let out a little of my clenched breath as they told me they hoped I would learn from that example too, and that we were to play on the see-saw together. I climbed on gingerly and knew with every bounce her bottom was probably burning, but at the same time a little bit of me felt smug in her punishment and not mine. Perhaps I was jealous of her ability to run away or perhaps after she gave me the cold shoulder yesterday we had become rivals, but I actually felt like the golden child for a little moment there. It was stupid because soon we were returned to our highseats and were told we were going to visit grandma's. I no longer felt any of whatever previous momentary boost I had had, and was soon shifting uncomfortably in my carseat as I needed to pee. I let out a gasp and thankfully did not have my binkie and was able to quickly blurt out I badly needed to pee. I started trickling which formed a puddle in my carseat before we had pulled over next to some quiet woods and daddy was lifting me out of the seat. His rage at wetting in their car was enormous and if there was any difference between the severity of our spankings that day I didn't notice. I was diapered right there and returned to my wiped down carseat, and proceeded to flood my diaper right then and there. As our journey resumed I couldn't help but notice a little look of smugness on the girl's face now. We pulled into the driveway of a fairly Victorian looking two story house on the outer limits of some unknown suburb. We were marched inside, me waddling in my soaking wet diaper, her fighting an impossible battle to keep her hem covering her ridiculously childish panties. We were placed on a fluffy sheep rug next to a couch and given our teddy bear and dolly respectively which we had not had on our outing. I sucked on my pacifier miserably while she glared at me as if daring to take advantage of the fact she couldn't cover herself sitting down. I responded to her by turning my back which was less rewarding than expected as I found trying to rotate on the floor in a soaking wet diaper triggered several waves of uncomfortable humiliation. The grown ups returned this time with a mature and stern looking older woman in glasses and a white turtle neck sweater. I presumed this was "grandma". Whether she was actually related to anybody I couldn't guess, but I shuddered as they explained grandma would be often babysitting us and was much more old fashioned and strict than our parents who were often easy on us out of their love for their two adorable sweethearts. We were both red during this introduction and grandma noted that only I was diapered. She scooped up the flustered girl, undoing all her efforts to retain her modesty with her hemline, and carried her over to the edge of the rug where she laid out a matt from the diaperbag and spared no effort in efficiently humiliating her with talcum powder and invasive rubbing, all the while making remarks about good and naughty children while she lay on her back clutching her dolly to her chest. The visit was brief and we were soon standing on our tiptoes giving Nanny a kiss on her cheek while trying to avoid coming into contact with her massive bosom. Back in the carseats I sat miserably in my soaking hot diaper and we were both given a bottle of juice to drink before the car starting moving because daddy didn't want any more spills. The bottle made me surprisingly drowsy again and while watching trees zip past I blacked out. Part Three I awoke in the dead of night in a crib, thickly diapered and sweating in a flannelette onsie. Next to me the girl slept peacefully and I stole a few moments to finally stare her over. It seemed even here there was no end to my depravity, and I wondered how many times I would curse that the grown ups had no foreseeable end to their pleasure in having two virgins to lecture about sweetness, purity, and needing their protection. I shifted around on my diapered backside and realised I had awoken because I badly needed to do a number two, again. It could be anywhere between 8pm and 4am for all I knew, and I was definitely not excited about the idea of spending any extended amount of time in messy diapers before the grown ups woke up hours after sunrise. We didn't seem to have instant synchronised needs for the potty any more and I feared this is what it would feel like from now on to have natural urges at the mercy of any hour of the day, any distance from a change. I had been fed a lot of fibre and god knows what else, and I knew I wouldn't be able to fight this for long. My diaper was at least dry this time other than the humidity that had built up in its perfect seal, and right now I couldn't decide which I would prefer less. I don't know how I made it through that night but in the morning the parents walked in and the girl finally awoke. I had been in an uncomfortably messy diaper all night and got to be the one humiliated at the start of the day. She got to sit from a position of removed satisfaction as I was the one mummy cood over and cleaned up, remarking what a child I was and how lucky it was I had my di-di's on. We were told we were allowed (ordered) to play with our toys on a sheepskin rug while watching hours of taped tellitubbies and being regularly bottle fed. For the first time we were split up and she was taken off to play with a doll house and I was taken out to a sandpit in nothing more than a cloth diaper and clear plastic pants. I was told not to get sand on teddy because he had to come inside and couldn't be cleaned as easily as babies, all the while feeling my diaper get wetter and droopier in the sun. We were given naps at different times and felt the burning shame of individual attention throughout the day. By that night we were exhausted and saw each other for the first time as I was ordered to crawl up into the crib where she was already waiting. Our previous minor spat of a competition seemed to have been exhausted out of us and now that we were together we seemed more thankful for the privacy from the adults. We weren't drugged that night and spent an awful time shifting around uncomfortably next to each other, before finally we tried to communicate below what the baby monitor might pick up over the mobile humming nursery rhymes. I told her how I was worried after meeting grandma that there might be a whole range of 'family friends' out there who we would discover had 'children' of their own, and that we very well might end up in uncomfortable sleepovers. I was particularly worried about spending time with other boys, while I was excited to be in a tub with her I was terrified of being naked in bathwater with other males. I thought I was being a bit over the top but she sobbed as she explained she wasn't at all a girly girl and was thoroughly humiliated by the constant femme pink, bows, ruffles, and now a day playing with her dollhouse and "helping mummy cook" which mostly just involved her getting messy and being scolded for being a bad little lady. It was our third night here and we were both still in a state of permanent humiliation as we shifted around uncomfortably in our super thick diapers, both realising this would never stop being humiliating. She told me how she had seen prams in mummy's sewing room today which looked about normal size but could probably fit us covered in blankets and sitting up under the bonnet hoods, and there was even a box of suppositories in the under carriage of one of the prams, which we both knew meant our eventual rides would probably be very unfun. Eventually I thought I could drift off to sleep, before I was bought back by the need to pee. There was no escaping it and I struggled for about 30 minutes before the sound of running liquid filled the room. From next to me I heard that she was still awake and I still burned with shame. Eventually I rolled over and heard her lose her battle as well. The grown ups would delight in remarking how much we need our diapers in the morning, and we knew neither of us was brave enough to try to escape from our new life as dependent children again any time soon. Eventually we both drowsed off, formulating all kinds of terrible scenarios our parents might put us through in our minds. We didn't know the half of it.

Heh, glad you liked it. I've realised that even if I did lose that cappie princess award (and really the title suits you better anyway, considering), it made me notice who was posting the exact same things that I liked, and left me sure that if there ever is an Internet apocalypse, we'd have to track each other down just to continue swapping stories. *promise may expire if either of us ever starts writing bad stories.

This is a shortish story that I wrote early last year, and then forgot about. It won't be continued, but I thought it could be worthwhile posting. Please note that it contains no minors, the introduction makes it sound like it may however. ----------- Telling Stories by ausdpr "Give your father a kiss" the woman ordered. It was a picture perfect family scene. The little girl stood on tippy toes to reach up and kiss the man's cheek and wrap her arms around his neck as he bent over to accommodate her small size. With one arm he gave her an encompassing hug around her lower back, the movement of which tugged up her pink dress's hemline to reveal a flash of a white disposable diaper. Perhaps she was a little old for diapers, but the thickness of it indicated that she probably had a serious problem. The man straightened back up and the girl looked, oddly, not at him, but at the ground, as she said "goodbye daddy". He smiled and rubbed the top of her head, kissed his wife on the lips, picked up his briefcase, and headed out the door. The woman stood leaning in the doorframe as she watched him go, a smile of fulfilment painted on her face. She returned to face her daughter, who she pondered for a moment as if almost forgotten, her face turning thoughtful. After a moment she returned to smiling and let out a satisfied "hrm" as if realising how happy she was with her life, then knelt down to lift the girl's skirt, and inserted two fingers into the front of her diaper. After a brief moment she withdrew her fingers and spun the girl around by the shoulders, repeating the process in both the back leg bands. "Sweety you're soaked" she cooed, then lifted the rear of the girl's dress even further, which was tightly bound at her lower back with a large bow. Using one finger, the woman pulled back the waistband of the diaper from the girl's rear and peered inside. She moved her head from side to side for a moment to get the best light, then when finally satisfied, released the diaper which snapped back into place. She then bought the girl's dress back down and smoothed the pleats. "But at least you haven't made a mess!" she praised the girl, kissing her on the cheek. "We'll just get you some breakfast before your bath and a nice clean diaper". The woman led the girl by the hand further into the house, towards an awaiting high-chair and jar of prunes. Melissa, as her name was, winced at the way the thick wet diaper caused her to waddle. In between her legs was the equivalent of a pillow, and with each movement of her thighs the mass shifted back and forth, carrying her butt cheeks with it. The black polished shoes with sandal straps weren't helping either. While tightly fit, the white socks she was wearing still slipped around a little, causing her to appear as if she could barely even walk without her Mummy holding her hand. Not her Mummy, she reminded herself angrily, starting to get caught up in the illusion herself. If she couldn't even tell, how would anybody else know that she was a twenty-four year old, and a lawyer at that. She was never tall but she was a stunner, and had always enjoyed the fact. Yet here she was waddling through a house in a thick wet diaper and pink baby dress, being led by the hand to a high-chair. The thoughts were causing her to slow down, and without warning her Mummy swept her off her feet and over her shoulder. The girl already had a big butt, which was only further amplified by the solid padding, and with one arm under the crinkling white disposable Mummy was easily able to take her weight. Melissa was suddenly near crying, a small moan escaping her pouting mouth while she scrunched her eyes. Mummy stopped walking and begun bouncing the girl on the spot, awwing and cooeing asking if the girl needed a nappy change sooner. She landed a few exaggerated loud kisses on the girl's cheek and neck, and reached to a nearby table to retrieve a rattle which she gave to the girl. Satisfied, Mummy smiled and continued into the house. Melissa had only stopped because she knew the consequences of unexplained crying - an assumption that something might be wrong, resulting in her temperature been taken, rectally, followed by too much attention as Mummy tried to ensure she was alright. They passed her folded up stroller, and Melissa cringed as she remembered the days she had spent in daycare. Being pushed there in a stroller, diaper on display as it bulged against a tight crotch strap, her dress hem pulled up by her legs wide apart. Each time they had given her something in a bottle which had numbed her mouth and caused her to be unable to wield her hands well enough to write any messages, her "parents" were well aware she would take any opportunity to escape. However when put into a special playpen designed for uniquely problematic children, she had mostly only been able to spend her time pushing buttons on the toy which made animal farm noises, enough to keep the minders unconcerned anyway. When they had originally told her parents that she didn't seem to play with any of the toys, it had been another worry session from her mother that she might not been feeling well and the associated rectal thermometer session. As they approached the high-chair, Melissa remembered back to a time before bottles and spoon feedings, before baths and naptime, before cribs and rocking horses, before playpens and daycare, before bonnets and mary jane shoes, before diapers and childish dresses. Before her 6:30pm bedtime. She had been a hotshot young lawyer then, strutting around the city in overly large heels and a tightly fitted power dress. In her nylons and lingerie she had felt invincible, though she often avoided attention and wasn't one to let anybody get into her dress, she liked to know she was sexy for herself. Often she would stay out of the limelight and more so just dream and plot on the sidelines, seeing opportunities, questioning the risks and moralities, but never taking them. Then one day out of the blue, she had taken one. She went all out convincing a divorcee that they could sue their moderately wealthy ex who had recently remarried - all for a hefty fee of course. The court case had been long and painful, and Mel discovered she had vastly overestimated her own ability. Getting desperate she tried everything, getting very personal and attacking the newly wedded couple on wild rumours and heresay. It hadn't worked, and she had lost the case, and was warned she now risked charges of defamation since the couple had apparently lost business because of her stories. Outside the courtroom the woman in the relationship had stormed up to her, addressed her as "young lady", and told her she had better learn to keep her wild stories in check. Melissa had flown off the handle at being called young and said she wouldn't be lectured. Six months had gone by, mostly uneventful except Melissa had been demoted back to clerical work. Her pride hurt, she still at least had her sexy adult curves and power dresses. Strutting home after work one night, she was walking down the long driveway that led into her apartment complex, her heels tapping on the concrete. On her side somebody matched pace with her, but it was dark and she couldn't quite make them out. From her other side somebody also appeared, and she began to worry. She slowed down in a patch of light where she felt slightly safer, though knew nobody would see them there. The two stepped into the light from either side of her. She recognised them almost instantly as the woman spoke "young lady, now we are going to fix that naughty imagination of yours" The man had grabbed her from behind, and she was dragged back, hand over her mouth, to a waiting van. There they stripped her instantly and immediately replaced her adult life with diapers, a dress, locking mittens, and a pacifier bound with a strap behind her head. Harnessed into a baby carseat, which to her horror she fit perfectly, they began the long drive. Being a baby was certainly a big change for Melissa. Her mother was shovelling the last mouthful of the horrible baby-mush into her mouth, and she smelt the faint wif of urine from her now very heavy disposable diaper. A cloth was coming for wiping her face down, and a bottle of warm formula was being inserted into her mouth. She begun suckling and would finish the whole thing. The large woman, her mummy, would make sure she did for her own good. Melissa occasionally had ideas of her own for what she thought was for her own good, but her mummy had always rebuffed the ideas with grown up logic. "Babies don't wear panties" she would respond, while untaping Melissa's sopping wet diaper as she lay on her back, watching the mobile above her changing table. Usually, when Melissa persisted with her silly ideas or stories of imaginary friends and that day they caught her dressed up in the grown up dress and heels, her parents would just insert her pacifier and sternly tell her that she was not to take it out until they said so. They occasionally took notice of her fantasy and told her not to persist with the silly notion, ever since she had dressed up as a grown up one day she had continued the ridiculous game, insisting that she really was a grown up. Her parents still loved and took care of her though, and she depended on them completely for everything from changing her nappy, to feeding her, to correcting her when she was wrong. She was being lifted out of the high-chair, Mummy had said she would have a bath and fresh diaper after breakfast. On the way the phone had rung though and Mummy had put Melissa down for a moment. Melissa hated messing herself but could at least sometimes coincide it with just before a bath. As usual she turned pink with embarrassment as she began to push. She had only half listened to the conversation on the phone, but suddenly realised with a start what was being said. Apparently there was a rostering error at Mummy's work and she would have to go in as soon as possible. Melissa tried to fight back a tantrum as Mummy quickly fetched the stroller and a bottle from the fridge. Melissa pointed desperately to her diaper, and her mother spent a small moment befuddled, then she raced off and fetched another disposable diaper and plastic panties. She taped the new disposable over Melissa's already wet diaper, and slid the plastic pants over the bulk. After quickly feeding Mel her daycare bottle, she handed her two toys to hold onto and inserted a pacifier. As she began to unfold the stroller, she paused to smile and remark how cute Melissa looked. Melissa only whimpered at the thought of the stroller and carseat ride in messy, wet, big diapers "You'll be fine in daycare today won't you sweetums?" her mummy cooed, sounding genuinely caring. Suddenly Mel went wide eyed, she remembered she had pooped herself once at daycare and all of the attendants had avoided changing her since she was a bit bigger. In the end they had just waited until her mother had picked her up. They sometimes even refused to change nappies that were wet on arrival and often just let the mothers assume the children wet themselves before leaving. Melissa desperately wanted to let her mother know that she had messed herself, but the extra padding and the plastic pants had prevented the telltale sign from informing her yet. Unfortunately the pre-daycare bottle had worked its trick and Mel could no longer speak, and could only watch as her mother approached with the stroller.

Hot. Especially that.

There sure is a lot of interesting ABDL stuff hiding over in Japan, I speak a little but not enough to really find my way around. Have always wondered what the plot was with the hospital scene, ty for sharing. (the source is here for anybody interested)

The Barbara twist was a bit unexpected, but hearing about what the twins did to her is totally worth it.