BoTox

I find this an interesting tale with a new twist on a ghost story. Please continue with my sincerest thanks.

Chapter 2 Trisha opened the door and ushered her two new guests inside. The garage door led to the laundry room and on into the big, modern kitchen. There, they saw Zoey taking a large pizza out of the oven. It looked and smelled amazing to the two refugees. They had been eating poorly prepared, mass-produced camp rations for the last month. The maid was a small, thin woman, barely as tall as Brent with a dark complexion. She looked to be Asian. Her black hair had flecks of gray pulled up in a bun. Her gray uniform fit snugly to her body. The collar covered the base of her neck and the skirt hung to her knees. The sleeves were slightly above the elbows. Her chest was small but her legs and behind were strong. “Hello! You must be our new house guests. I'm Zoey, Miss Trisha's maid," said Zoey with a smile. They greeted Zoey politely but they were eyeing the pizza. Trisha waved her hand for them to have a seat and Zoey set the pizza on the table. Trisha went to the fridge to put sodas on the table. Zoey cut the pizza and put an enormous slice in front of each of them. They dug in. While they ate the pizza and drank the soda, Trisha went to check on the rooms for them. Zoey followed her into the first room. They set it up for Lana. They crossed the hall to check on the room for Brent. Both appeared to be in order. Trisha patted Zoey on the shoulder, “Good work. I'm pleased. You deserve a reward. What would you like?” Zoey looked up at her boss and said, “A release, Mommy. It has been a few weeks since my last one.” Trisha held Zoey's chin and looked into her eyes, “Baby, we've talked about this. What did we agree upon?” Zoey's shoulders dropped, “We agreed on no releases that weren't on the calendar.” Trisha asked, “And when is the next scheduled release?” “A week from Saturday, Mommy,” said a disappointed Zoey. Trisha smiled, “That's right. Now, we have guests. Is there anything I can do now?” Zoey leaned over, her hands against the wall, “Might you check my diaper and change me if necessary?” Trisha smiled and lifted the back of her maid's dress to reveal a thickly padded bottom. The maid’s bottom was encased in a pair of secured panties, locked at the rear waist to prevent tampering. Trisha squeezed the girl's rear and shook her head. “Baby, do you think you are wet enough to need a change?” Trisha questioned. “No, Mommy, it is not wet enough. Thanks for checking,” said Zoey. Trisha offered, “How about you can have a slice of pizza instead and a soda instead?” Back in the kitchen, Brent had eaten his slice and was working on the crust. Lana was slower but enjoying hers no less. Trisha and Zoey returned to the kitchen. Zoey cut another piece for Brent, who eagerly started on it. Then she cut a slice for herself. She offered one to Trisha and Lana as well. Trisha declined but poured Brent another soda. To Brent, this was the best meal he had eaten since leaving home. Zoey smiled as she ate her pizza. She hadn't had pizza in a while. Trisha rarely allowed her to eat pizza and she only offered it because of her guests this time. Zoey was glad for the opportunity to have some, though she knew she would have to work it off later. The pizza was gone in no time. Brent ate three slices and Lana two. Zoey cleaned up the kitchen while Trisha showed her guests to their rooms. Trisha looked back at Zoey and reminded her it was time to take her medicine. Zoey acknowledged her and opened the cabinet with bottles of medicine. Zoey poured six pills from the bottle marked with her name. The bottle label read bulk-forming laxative. The price of indulging in a slice of pizza. It was worth it even if she made a big mess tomorrow morning. She would hardly notice. Trisha opened the first bedroom door and showed Brent his room while she apologized for the heavy princess décor, “My young nieces were the last to visit me and we decorated it for them. We can change it.” Brent shrugged his shoulders. It had a laptop for his use and a bathroom. Lana's room set up appeared similar with mermaids and lots of pinks. Trisha promised to take them shopping for clothes later today if they wanted. They both were thankful. Neither had more than a few clothes currently. “Zoey, we are going shopping. Do you need anything while we are out,” asked Trisha? The maid looked at her phone, “Yes, Ma'am. We need more milk. I will text you a list.” While they were out shopping, Zoey had work to do. It was necessary to convert the rooms. It would reveal the deception when they returned. The refugees would serve an important purpose in the house. Zoey didn't want to be alone and Trisha wanted to make her baby happy. These kids had no family, and nobody knew where they were. They were perfect for what Trisha planned. Zoey entered the first bedroom and attached the rail sides to the bed, converting it into an adult-sized crib. The bedding already had a waterproof sheet under it. She opened the drawers and filled them with girly tops and bottoms, bottoms big enough to cover a well-padded boy or girl in diapers. Each pair of bottoms had a heavy belt and lock like Zoey wore over her diaper. Then came the diapers. Zoey carried two cases of medium disposable diapers into the room and filled the top drawer with pretty pink overnight diapers. The rest went into the closet. She fixed a set of four padded restraints on the corners of the bed in case the new baby struggled. Nobody accepted this regression treatment without a little help. It took Zoey herself nearly a month before she broke. How long ago was that? Three years, or was it four? The time since had been the most enjoyable time of her life. Next, she went to the bathroom. The lid to the toilet was locked down. It would get no use from the room's new occupant. The changing table fit over the toilet and with a drain line into the hole in the toilet lid. This feature made for easy cleanup of a messy baby. She checked the changing supplies and set on the shelf nearest the changing table. Plenty of diapers, rash cream, baby wipes and other items were fully stocked. It was off to the other bedroom to do likewise. In the second bedroom, Zoey repeated the process. Both of the guests were going to be regressed and raised as twin baby girls. Pink was the color everywhere one looked. More diapers and more baby girl clothes. The only difference was in Brent's room, there was a drawer for binding cages for his manhood. He wouldn't be using that for anything soon. Zoey got a text that Trisha was returning and asked if everything was ready. Zoey confirmed she would take Lana to her room and lock her in. Trisha would take Brent and start his transformative regression first. Zoey hated being a part of the deception but it was necessary for Trisha's plan to work. She finished preparing everything in Brent's room. When she heard the garage door open, she was in the kitchen. She greeted the kids and Trisha with a smile and a glass of lemonade. She nodded to Trisha that all was ready for her guests. The young guests sipped on the lemonade and thanked Zoey. “Help Lana with her things, please, Zoey,” said Trisha, “I'll help Brent with getting his things to his room.”

Agreed. As I'm reading it back, part of it is confusing. Too many "she" pronouns or I wind up naming everyone every time i reference them. I've got to unwind it and reorganize pieces before I post more in my story thread. I'm thinking a couple of chapters a week. Maybe 18 chapters unless I trim it down.

OK, that's sort of where I was going. I'm writing this one in third person. I may go back and switch it to 1st person. Do people write in multiple 1st person? Getting inside the head of all the main protagonists?

OK, the only acronym I got out of that was AB. You are going to have to explain it to me like a vanilla in long hand. To clarify, the man is an unwilling regressee. His mental state until broken is male but the regressor only refers to the regressee as a girl and dresses as a girl.

So, I am working on a story about a man that is forcibly regressed and being turned into a baby girl. I have a few questions to figure out. I'm not proficient on AB terminology or vernacular. My goal is to do this topic justice. First, is there a distinction between a sissy baby and a man treated as a de facto baby girl? Second, when does the pronoun transition from he to she? Is it when the regressing authority figure gives them a girl name? Third, if it is forced, would the man think of himself as still male while everyone treated and called him the female name? My thought is a sissy baby knows they are male but is treated as a female, willingly or unwillingly. They may also be reminded they are a sissy girl. Where as the man-to-baby-girl is never again acknowledged to be an adult male in any way. Call it a deluded parental figure. The goal is to break the man to the point he begins to think and be a baby girl instead of playing a part.

The first chapter is all background and sets up the story. No diapers or anything yet. I like plots to work and I need a lot of this to get things in place for later. Chapter 1 The war started in Eastern Europe but quickly spread across most of Europe and parts of North Africa. Many people lost their lives and many more displaced. They sent some across borders and some to faraway places. Some went to America, Canada, Australia and other places not affected by the war. Brent was one of those displaced as the war expanded. The enemy had murdered his parents in cold blood as they tried cross the English Channel. He escaped with his life and the clothes on his back. Once on English soil, the resettlement groups sent people all over the globe. They airlifted Brent and many others from his camp to the US. He still wasn't sure he was safe but he was out of immediate danger. Conditions in the camp were tolerable but little privacy, limited internet and everyone was a complete stranger. Lucky for him, he wound up at a refuge center outside of Atlanta, GA. While Europe was in flames, America seemed like a safer place. He didn't know how long he'd be staying at the refugee camp. Hopefully, there would be opportunities to start a new life, new beginnings in this land, the land of the free. Many of the locals from Atlanta and the surrounding suburbs were taking on refugees. This gave them a chance to have a bit of normalcy in their upended lives. A little taste of southern hospitality went a long way with people that had lost everything. That was when Trisha got involved and showed up at the center. She offered rooms to two people to stay with her until they could get permanent resettlement or could return home. It was the least she could do. She was blessed with so much and they had so little. Brent was in a line for the bathroom when a tall, silver-haired woman approached him. She was a sturdy woman, fit, not flabby, with an ample chest and round bottom. Brent would barely reach her shoulder if he tiptoed. His family had never been very tall and he was no exception. She greeted people, asked questions but none responded with what she wanted to hear. She approached Brent with a smile and a hand extended. She spoke to him in her southern drawl, “Hi, I'm Trisha, what is your name, Darlin?” “Brent,” he said. “How old are you, Brent? Do you have any family here?” she asked. He said coldly, long since accepting the loss, “No one else from my family survived. I'm 22. I had one more year at university.” Trisha made a sad face, “I'm so sorry for your loss, Sweety. Would you like to come live with me in my home until you can be resettled? I have a big, comfy house and it is only me and my servant living there.” Brent asked, “You have Internet access?” She nodded, “Of course we do. Fiber optic gigabit speeds, full mesh Wi-Fi on the entire property.” “OK, I'll go with you,” he said, “I've been trying to find out about friends from back home. It is hard here.” She smiled, “Go gather all your things. I have enough room for one more person. Do you have any friends here that might like to join us?” Brent answered, “I met a girl from another city. She has a lot in common with me. Her parents are dead and she started university the year before the war started. She is alone here, like me.” Trisha motioned, “Well, what are you waiting for? Go find her and see if she wants a home with the Internet and a hot bath.” While Trisha stood there, Brent started looking for his friend, “Stay right there while I find her. Please, don't leave without me.” Trisha waited while texting Zoey, her maid, on her phone, “I'm bringing two refugees home with me. They are an unrelated boy and girl in their early twenties. We should be back in half an hour. Is everything ready on your end?” Zoey immediately responded, “Yes, Ma'am. I set two bedrooms up as you ordered. A lunch of pizza and sodas will be ready as well.” Trisha could see Brent returning with a small blond girl not even as tall as Brent. He held her hand and pulled her through the rows of cots as they dodged suitcases and scattered belongings. The blond girl wore a teal green t-shirt two sizes too big for her with a wide black belt to make it into a dress. Trisha smiled as they approached her. Brent said, “Trisha, this is Lana. She is my friend I was telling you about.” Trisha addressed the girl, “Hello, Lana. Did Brent tell you I have rooms for two people at my home? You can have the Internet and a private room and space to move around.” Lana was meek, “Yes, he did. That is very generous of you.” Trisha questioned Lana more, “How old are you, Honey?” Lana answered, “I will be 19 years old in two weeks.” “Brent tells me you were also at university before the fighting closed everything,” said Trisha, “We have a fantastic university here. That's where I work. Perhaps you can enroll and continue your studies?” Brent and Lana both shook their heads in agreement. Trisha pulled one of them under each arm and started walking them toward the door. She pointed them to her black SUV and remotely opened the doors. Brent offered Lana the front seat. “This is a beautiful country,” said Lana, “It reminds me of home.” Brent agreed, “Yes, rolling green hills, lakes and forests.” Trisha said, “When the weather is nicer, you can explore all of it. We can hike up Stone Mountain and see the view.” “Trisha, what do you do at the university?” asked Brent. She smiled, “Oh, I run a robotics research lab and I teach a few upper level classes. Are you interested in robotics or automation?” Lana perked up, “I was studying engineering and programming. Robotics seems like a good fit.” Brent laughed, “I'm going to be living with nerds!” Trisha laughed, “What were you studying then?” “Business! I'm going to be rich someday,” he said. Trisha smiled, “If that is your dream, there is no better place to make it happen than the good old US of A.” They turned off the main road and ventured down a picturesque tree-lined lane to a secluded home that was Trisha's. The guests could see that it was a large house with plenty of land around it. Trisha pulled into the garage and held out her arms. “This is it. Come inside and I'll have Zoey show you to your rooms,” said Trisha.

This story is being created as a part of the Second Kasarberang Non-Contest contest.

I'm working on a story to fit into the NSFW category. Tentatively called An Unrelated Incident. I'm going to create a placeholder story thread that I can add to.

Oh, I've already had those ideas in my head. Delicious, isn't it?

Imagine having a magnet on your key ring in your pocket with the Relief artificial sphincter. What fun that might be! Nothing showing externally and random voids as your keys jingle in your pocket. The ideal situation would be a Bluetooth module that could be paired with your phone or someone else's. It could be triggered on a proximity to one phone or used like any other Internet of Things device controlled through an app. Neither indicated how it would function during a sexual encounter. The metal one looks pretty ominous if you are going to get rough. I can see this really handy for bed wetters. Set it for a few random events throughout the night. Since we know it has a safeguard pressure relief valve, all that is needed is a lighter relief spring. As I grow older, I'd be tempted to "develop" symptoms and have one of these implanted when they are available for public use.

Like others, I write as much as I can while my mind is engaged. I see it in my head as a movie where I'm writing the dialog as I hear it in my mind. I write in Google Docs to get the basic errors found and corrected. It is far from readable by anyone but me in this form. I often leave out big chunks that get filled in on an additional pass. Once I get a story or at least a good section committed to the page, I tend to leave it alone for at least a day or more. If I think of more dialog or a new scene, I will add that to the end. That's not where it goes but I rearrange sections to meet the needs and pacing of the story. Once the story is fully written in what I call a first draft, I will re-read it and improve what I see, fluff up dialog, add descriptive language where I feel it could use it. Next, I run a search for words I know I over use, "just" and "like" to name a few. At this point, I will drop it into ProWritingAid to see what it kicks out. It isn't everything it needs to be after this but it is pretty close to where I think it is getting ready. Unless I'm a hurry with a deadline, I will let it sit a bit and read it again. I usually do a few tweaks here but if it went well, I consider it ready to publish. Then the readers get to decide how well I did.

Your chances end tonight.

This books is now free if you want a copy of it. Enjoy!

I updated it in 2019 include some more modern touches. Nothing huge but I think it is more contemporary now.

I will be giving this book away again this Halloween. From Friday, October 29, 2021, 12:00 AM PDT until Sunday, October 31, 2021, 11:59 PM PDT, it will be free on Amazon. I hope you enjoy it if you haven't had a chance to catch it free in previous give-away. LINK: Halloween Again?

I should clarify, that should only happen if the book was in Kindle Unlimited. I have no idea if it was never enrolled.

Not to split hairs but did you agree with me or did autocorrect take over?

I liked it. However, did you mean to use pinioning in the context of "pinioning my arms to my side" instead of pinning? Overall, good premise and I like what I'm reading.

I read mostly hear and from Kindle. Amazon is the biggest seller of all books. I sell mostly on Amazon. Smashwords didn't work out too well for me. ABDiscovery.com.AU is selling my Ingrid Chronicles series so that is going well.

I thought that was understood. LOL

I started posting stories at WetSet and won the story of the month a few times. Then, I moved to ILuvDiapers and had several stories included in the monthly newsletter. After that, I have been a member of DailyDiapers since about the inception. I'm member number 65 and joined in December of 2004. I posted many of my stories here. Unfortunately, when the story forum was corrupted, I decided to jump to publishing on Amazon. I still post a few stories here and I try to make an Amazon story free for the DD users from time to time.

Agreed. It was more a curiosity than anything. I'd expect the practical limit to be somewhere around 6-8 liters/1.5-2 gallons, depending on position and distribution. A guy doesn't use near as much of the back and girls don't use a lot of the very front without some diaper gymnastics. (Hmm, I'd like to see some diaper gymnastics) I find an Abena or Molicare are perfect for most situations, including overnight. Even a Tena Classic works well for discrete and everyday use. I've got some Rearz and a few other premium diapers that I just can't seem to bring myself to waste if I'm not going to at least give them a good workout.

Certainly. That is the topic of a yet to be released story I'm still working on. The root cause will be known in that book. I'm thinking it will be the last in the series. I have two more also in the works. The woman astronaut that was the last women with bladder control who returns to earth and another about a group of women that rebel and form a resistance organization. This book, A Smart Girl in Diapers, shows while women were robbed of continence, some high IQ girls weren't content to be arm candy and baby factories. However, I can tell you it was discovered early on that the virus attacked a recessive gene not present on the Y-chromosome. Women, having two X-chromosomes, allowed the virus to express its full payload on them. I believe this was revealed in the Book 2 - The New Normal.

Nobody is jumping much of anything with 9.5kilograms around their crotch. That's almost 21 pounds for us 'Mericans.