RegressionRevolution

Heya, I've been tasked with wearing diapers 24/7. Recently on my tumblr I've been given advice that I should wet in small amounts rather than flooding but the 12 month guide suggests never holding your bladder if you can help it. Help me decide a way forward:

Holly came too and groggily wiped her eyes, they stung a little from the chemicals she had knocked out with. A jolt of adrenaline pushed her to a standing position as she remembered what had happened to her. She realised she was standing in a crib, dressed in a onsie. Her underwear felt strange, like it was padded. Her breasts were unsupported by a bra and her nipples brushed the soft fleece interior of the warm onsie she dressed in. "What the fuck is this?“ she demanded." where are my clothes!? “

"Why do you want me to be st..? Hmmpf ahh-mmm." Holly screamed into the rag stuffed into her mouth. It smelly cloying sweet but so like alchohal. She'd it ever see chloroform in movies but she certain of what was happening. She tried to stop herself hyperventilating in her panic and stop breathing in the chemical soaked into the cloth in her mouth but it was already to late. She felt faint. The world lunged in front of her nauseatingly and then spun. Sound ebbed and thrumped on her ears Then darkness fogged the corners of her vision as she became dizzy before her field of vision suddenly shrank to dot and blinked out, like an old anologue television set switching off. A ringing in her ears ceased. She was unconscious. Her body sagged limply into Sarah's arms.

Holly felt awkward about suddenly crossing paths with Sarah again. It reminded her of the promise to meet up which she'd failed to keep. "Hey. Sarah! Fancy meeting you again? Do you live around here? " Holly felt that she would surely have recognised if Sarah shared her daily commute. "I've been okay thanks. Just been hitting the library lately, studying ahead of an exam." Of course Sarah would already be well aware of that, having been stalking her. "what about you? “ Holly bashfully brushed back her fringe. Shy about the compliment. She was wearing a light blue summer dress. Something she'd changed into as it was a little too casual for work but comfy for a hot evening in a stuffy library. "ha. Thanks. That's uh, nice of you to say." Was the lady just being nice or was she flirting?

Holly was feeling good about herself. There was a spring in her step and her chin was lifted. Short brunette bangs bounced against the broad headband of her head phones as she hurried a little to catch up with the bus she had been trying to meet. She was feeling good because she'd just walked away from a stranger she'd just met and helped out. It was kind of life affirming to be briefly friendly with someone in the otherwise hostile after work rush of anonymous strangers all hurrying home. The woman Holly had helped had probably been hurrying. She'd accidently walked into Holly, causing them both to topple and fall. If she'd been having a bad day Holly might have sworn at the woman for not looking where she going but instead she'd found herself laughing and then apologising. With a smile she helped the (older?) woman gather the things which had spilled from her handbag, commiting that she used the foundation. Once they were both standing they shared names and numbers promising to go for coffee sometime but neither committed enough to the idea to set a date. Then Holly said goodbye, feeling good about helping someone out but not imagining she would see the woman again soon.

Erin nodded as she listened to what Barbara had to say. "I don't really understand money stuff either." Erin admitted to reassure her friend. "At least dollars and cents are easy to use but my mum says I have to be careful when ordering at a cafe or restaurant because Vat isn't included in the bill and you have to work it out yourself. Is that right?“ Erin was aware that her mother's factoids on American customs may have been out of date or just plain wrong.

Erin stared blankly for a moment. It was as if Barbara knew all the right words but had spoken the sentence in the wrong order. "Uh, sorta." Erin compromised meeting Barbara halfway. "I guess it's true there have been wars. But know l guess we have political disagreements instead. What I was actually referring to was Brexit, the UK leaving the European Union. There was a referendum which the majority of people from Northern Ireland and Scotland voted against leaving but England and Wales mostly voted to leave. England is the biggest country, so it has most votes. It just seems unfair to me. That we're led into something not everyone wants just because England is bigger and kind of in charge." Erin was pensive for a moment." I guess you Americans know all about England being unfair. Do we learn about the American War of Independence in Middle School?“ Erin thought it would be quite interesting to learn about historical events from the 'other camp' so to speak. She was unaware she was kind of flaunting her nerdy side.

Erin stood, subconsciously took a breath and thought about what she wanted to say. "Hi. I'm Erin McAlee. I'm from Londonderry in Northern Ireland. Me, my sister and our parents moved over here for something different. I can certainly say more sunny here." Erin grinned. "Uh, so I look forward to meeting you all and learning about the United States of America. Maybe I'll learn some good lessons for the dis-united Kingdom." she laughed nervously. Would people here even be aware of Brexit? Maybe it wasn't a good joke. "uh. That's enough from me for now sure. Supposed to keep it short and sweet and here I am able talk the hind legs off a donkey." Erin blushed at her own awkwardness and at a nod from the teacher she sat down, hurriedly unpacking her bag so as not to have to make eye contact with any of the other students.

I very almost said something whenever Ms Megan started to run wet wipes over my vulva. My instict was to think she was sexually harassing me but I reminded myself of the context. I was supposed to pretending to be a little child. Ms Megan's job was to treat me just like one. So that was all there was to it. I was having my ass wiped for me because we were both supposed to be pretending I was too little be trusted to it by myself. The same went for getting dressed again. "I don't think you have to worry about me having any accidents." I told her defiantly as my pull-up was once again slid up my legs, the elastics hugging my waist like padded control pants. Indeed I managed not to have an accident during story time. No supprise there. I also managed not to wet myself from over excitement at the prospect of outdoor playtime as it seemed some of my peers might well do from their enthusiastic chorus and the way they obediently lined up to grap ahold of the knotted rope that was offered. It was like they were brainwashed. I was hesitant. It might have been mistaken for the shyness of a little girl on her first day at playschool but frankly I just felt ridicious. Matt spotted this and took my hand. I think he thought he was helping. I guess that was kind of him in a naive way. "what's so great about playing outside?“ I asked synically.

(yes please)

Erin simply nodded, the blind gold of her pony tail bobbing like the plume of an ornate helmet from the ancient world. She walked between the elise of desks, row on row, until coming to the last row and simply pulled the chair from beneath the first one on her left. She didn't know if it had already been claimed by someone else, or rather allocated to someone else, it sounded as if Mr Webb had arranged a seating plan based on already established peer groups from the 5th grade. Thus Erin didn't unpack her school bag as she might be expected to move again shortly as she paired with another misfit. She felt a little pity for herself. Everyone else would already have friends, she would have to make all new ones and possibly have to try and fit in with an existing peer group.

"Yes. I understand. I'll be doing my best to fit in with the class." Erin answered contritly, though morbidly she wondered what the consequences might he should she fail to do so. Conincidently the principal then informed her there would be punitive measures if she broke the rules. Erin nodded sharply, feeling a little ill at ease. Hopeful the rules wouldn't be hard to follow. After receiving her note from the office and being shown to Mr Webb's classroom Erin decided she wanted to introduce herself to her new teacher ahead of the rest of the class joining them, so as not to make a spectical of herself as classes began for the day. Tentively she peered through the square window to check someone was in the room, an upright figure commanded a desk at the front near the windows on the far side of the room. Erin knocked and waited to told she was permitted to enter, mindful of protocol after the principal warned her regarding breaking the rules governing respect. "Good morning Mr Webb. My name is Erin McAlee. I'm joining your class today." she walked towards his desk and offered the office note for his inspection. "I know I'm early to class, I hope you don't mind, I thought I would introduce myself before the bell sounds."

Erin hung her head, a little disappointed to find out her expectations were false. She had liked the idea of having her own locker to personalise but it transpired the accommodation was going to be similar to her old school. "oh I see. Well, thanks, I hope I get used to all these changes sooner than later." Erin returned Angela's smile. Angela introduced her to the principal and then Erin was invited to speak with principal alone. It was intimidating for Erin, she wished Angela was with her but she had no reason to believe the principal would be mean to her. "Yes mam'. My name is Erin McAlee. I'm from Northern Ireland. I'm supposed to be joining the 6th grade today. Can you please tell me which class I'll be joining and who my teacher will be? “ Erin was cautious to be polite in front of the principal. Erin had almost addressed her new principal as 'Sister' out of habit, because her pelrevious school had been a Catholic all girls school, in which the head teacher had been a nun.

Erin nodded attentively to the information Angela was giving her. "Okay. Thanks. Three sixth grade classes? How many kids are there in a class. My old school only had one class per year but I suppose it was kind of a small school. We had about 25 pupils in each class. I hope we're in the same class." They entered the school together. Erin was keey looking around for hallmarks of what she had come to think of typical American school life from movies and TV shows she had seen. She also felt the need to make small talk. " Hey, do we get lockers to put our stuff in or is that just in high-school?“

"Northern Ireland. I lived in Derry, the famous 'walled city'. My parents moved us here in the last month of Summer, we're still sorta settling in. I'm going into the the 6th grade. I would have been starting P7 back home, which is the last year of Primary school before you go to Secondary school. Do you have something before Elementary school? I feel like I should be going into 7th grade but it's just that our school systems are organised differently. To be fair I think in England they have a prep year so I'd be in P6 there." Erin explained to Angela and then realised her appearl was under scrutiny. "I like your dress. It's pretty." Erin commented. She wondered privately if it was more common to wear a dress in Wyoming. It was kind of considered formal where she was from but supposed the climate was warmer her. Maybe it was more practical to wear a dress or skirt most days? “So which grade are you in. Will you be in my classes?“

A first day is always an event. The first day of a new school year is an event shared by children all over by for Erinn McAlee it was the be the first day of a new school year, at new school, in a new country. Maria McAlee, Erin's mother, was driving, glancing surreptitiously at The sat-nav, still unfamiliar with the layout of the city. She was also rattling off a reminders for her only daughter, whilst concentrating on the fact she was driving on the opposite side of the road to how she had been taught in the UK. "... Did you pack your pencil case, and those new notebooks we bought yesterday." "yes mum." "Did you remember to pack your lunch?“ “Packed lunch... Mum, stop worrying your making me nervous. More nervous I mean. I'm already nervous. What if I don't make any friends?“ Erinn responded, looking dead ahead for the building she hoped to recognise from brochure for her new elementary school. She had spent a long time trying on different outfits today. Before they moved away from Derry, it hadn't been something she'd had to think about, all the schools had a uniform, but her she could wear what she liked, which meant she had to try to look cool. The problem was she didn't have any American friends to tell her what looked cool, and she knew it defiantly wasn't cool to listen to her Mum's advice, so she'd eventually settled on a pair of black leggings and a blue and white striped blouse. Her medium length blond hair was pulled back in a simple ponytail. They arrived outside the school and the pair were both quiet for moment, listening to the engine whine down and each contemplating there thoughts. "There's soo much space here. Everywhere." Erinn commented, looking out across the carpark, then past the lawns and playfields to the playground and finally the silluotte of the school building itself, all washed in sunlight from a wide bright sky. "Yes." Maria remarked simply, she was caught off guard by the strange statement but she saw her daughters point. Everything was bigger in the USA. Maria herself was making the adjustment from working in an office of 11 people to one with almost 200 employees. Likewise her daughter would find the school was bigger than what she was used to, Maria knew that making adjustments were never easy for a preteen. "This is a fresh start sweetie. You'll make new friends and maybe even reinvent yourself a little. This is a really good chance to grow. Plus, there's going to be boys at the school." "Okay Mum, stop please." Maria insisted, eyes widening. She'd attended an all girls school prior. She'd been looking forward to co-education but she didn't need her mother embrassing her about it. "Well all I'll say is that I remember having my first crush around your age. Anyway, it's time to go now Erin. Be brave. Your Mammy loves you." "I love you too Mum. I'll see you after school." .... Erin had found her way to the playground, where there were groups of kids playing. She wasn't sure were she was supposed to go next. Her Mum had suggested that she find the school office and they would likely introduce her to her new class. Erinn glanced towards to nearest entrance to the school. It didn't look like any other kids were going inside yet, would she stand out if she went in by herself? Unsure of what to do she stopped to first person she crossed paths with and awkwardly introduced herself, speaking fast in an Northern Irish accent, to which the other person probably wasn't accustomed. "Top O' the mornin' to you." she announced cheerfully thinking it might garner a laugh and them immediately regretted it. 'why did I say that?` she thought to herself crossly.' it's what Americans think Irish people say right? `, well she knew for a fact she'd never said such a thing before in her life. With a look of anxious terror on her face she nervously started her introduction again. "Hi. Um, hi. I'm Erin. I'm new to Cheyenne. I'm enrolled her at the school but it's my first day. I don't really know where I'm supposed to go. Do you think you could show me around. I'd really appreciate it."

'What does sit criss cross applesauce mean?' I wondered as I was led away from the circle. It wasn't a phase I had come across before. Obviously it was request that the 'children' sit still with their legs cross and not get up to mischief while Ms. Megan was busy. It was along sing-song but it bugged me that 'cross' and 'sauce' didn't rhyme, at least not in my accent. Maybe it was like cockney rhyming slang and 'applesauce' was code for something else? I'd never really gotten to grips with the idea that the phrase 'give a dog bone', equated to, 'answer the phone.' Once again I found myself subject to the awkward ritual of being undressed and sat on the toilet. I felt sorry for Ms Megan and anyone who worked in a daycare. Taking a dozen children to the toilet a couple of times a day, each, must he time consuming. I felt good to relief myself and I was so desperate that I had no shame about peeing infront of Megan and the open door this time around but the stupid jingle of interactive toilets song was an irritating counterpoint. I found myself wishing my torrent of pee would somehow splash onto and destroy the speaker mechanism. "heh-he, yay I did it!" I answer a most sardonically. Of course I made it to the toilet. I was an adult dressed like a little kid, not an actual little kid barely potty trained. "Doesn't everyone make it in time?“ where the pull-ups and diapers more than just costume?

I'd been present earlier when Tara had told Megan to take me to the toilet, and I'd been aware of her leading the other Littles away to the side room whilst I was talking with Matt, but when it came to my turn I was unprepared for what an intense and intimate experience it would be. For starters, being undressed by someone else. It had been a long time since I'd been an actual little girl and needed help with my clothes, so having someone undress me pretty much belonged to the being the submissive partner in the bedroom. As such I could feel my skin grown hot and tingly as my shortfalls were dropped and I was left standing in just my undwear and a top, although admittedly it wasn't sexy, I just felt awkward and a little helpless. I suppose that was the point. Surrendering control was a big part of the dynamic in abdl. Next my pull-ups were tugged down to my ankles and I was sat down on the children's toilet. My knees were bent up to my chest due to low seating position and Megan literally towered over me, wearing an expectant expression. I experienced a powerful sense of being the lesser person in the small cubicle. "I can't go." I muttered miserably after what was probably two minitues but felt like ten. I was literally pee shy. How could I not be with someone staring at me and toilet itself being open to rest of the playroom. Evidently Megan lost patiece too, standing me up and redressing me. What did it matter to her if I didn't pee like I was supposed to? She was only required give me the opportunity to use the toilet, I had my pull-ups for if I couldn't. It was now circle time. Obviously that ment I found myself sitting with the regressed adults around the circle rug but I had no idea what the activity might be. I was preoccupied anyway with trying to find the most comfortable way of sitting on the floor, I was accustomed to a swivelled computer chair. What worked best? Crossed legs. Sitting on my knees? I fidgited through most of circle time, trying to avoid getting leg cramp, my leg muscles not used to sitting on the floor. Then I fidgited for a seperate reason. Ironically I now needed to pee. After unduring bladder ache in the hope circle time would end and I could descreetly ask Megan to take me to the toilet again, I felt I was on the verge of actually setting myself like an infant so I made my need known. It seemed rude to interrupt Megan, so I raised my hand. I assumed that was the proper thing to do, like when I'd been in school. Everyone turned to look at me. I blushed. "um. I need to use the toilet, please."

I smiled, a little nervously but glad for the assistance of the lady at the desk. It was strange to be talked down to, as if I really was a little kid again. I found it too awkward to make a reply and kept silent. `Was I supposed to go along with the make-believe?` I wondered. Was I supposed to pretend I had a Mommy who was proud of her little princess? I didn't have kids of my own so my oy interaction with the realm of little children was through some of my friend who had started families. I was in very unfamiliar territory walking through the corridors of the daycare but upon entering the toddler room some memories of a space like this began to stir from my childhood. This was a happy place. "nice to me meet you Ms. Megan." I said to the girl, who was probay a little younger than me but a bit taller. I was feel embrassed again, having been talk over by Tara and of course by the suggestion I would need reminded to go to the toilet. I shrugged off dig at my dignity. I supposed that was the whole point of this place, the staff were supposed to be pretending like I wasn't potty trained. It was nothing personal. What the was not easy for me to shrug off was the fact my bum had just been touched. Was she coping a feel? Or was it simply to check if I was wearing protection against wetting my pants? The guidence I'd read had warned the staff would be hands on, but they would also be doing so in a professional manner as if they were looking after real children. In that regard I should be able to trust nothing inappropriate was going to happen to me here. I was guided over to where a boy wearing a red shirt and corduroys was playing with plastic bricks. "Hi, I'm Kate. Can I join in?“ “Sure, I'm making a car, you can do the rear section. I'm Matt. You're new?" "Does a car need ten wheels? " I wasn't sure what the next stages of construction would be for the innovative design. Actually it would be fair to say the design process appeared to be entirely additive. So guessed anything goes. I raked through the pile of plastic bricks, looking for one with an interesting shape so I could add my own signiture to the vehicle. "The wheels makes it go faster." Matt answered plainly. I laughed at this, thinking it was supposed to be humorous sarcasm but Matt didn't grin back at me. Maybe he was serious? “uh... Yeah I'm new here. I'm here to write a story on AB/DL actually. I'm a reporter. I'd like to like to write about us playing with blocks together.. If that's okay with you?“ I got a coy nod in response and then launched into a technical question. A rookie mistake on my part. A direct approach isn't always the best approach, especially if you aren't well versed in the subject. I asked, "So are you an AB or a DL?“ "A little of both." Matt shrugged and then looked sheepish. "AB/DL is a spectrum really but I guess most people here are here because regression is relaxing for them rather than a fetish thing, which I think is what you are getting at?" I nodded, a little supprise at myself for being called out by someone who had moments ago said extra wheels made his car go faster. It was Matts turn to grin. He gestured to a girl in a frothy tutuesque ruffled lavender dress who was staring at my intently, in fact she was giving my a pretty ugly stare. I got the impression I might be chatting to her boyfriend or something. "Julia is a sadist. She's here as a humiliating punishment from Daddy." "Against her will?!" I yelped in shock. "yes" piped up the girl in question. "no." droned almost everyone else in the room in chorus. Julia huffed and retreated to a corner to play by herself. Matt chuckled and explained further, "She likes Daddy being in control of her. It confusing I know, she acts out like she doesn't like it, that's part of it but she really really does like it, trust me. She isn't here everyday anyway. Daddy let's her be big some of the time. She baby sits me. It's fun". I was feeling a little out of my depth and comfort zone. I was quite confused. On the surface of it I was in a room with people dressed as babies but beneath the costumes it was apparent they were living complex adult life's. It was interesting material. "Thanks for trying to explain it. Abdl is a spectrum, I'll bear that In mind. Good luck with your car. Let's play again later on." I made my excuses and got up to speak with Ms. Megan. "excuse me. Can I have a glass of water please?“ it was like being a school kid again and having to ask permission for everything but there was no obvious kitchen area in the playroom from which to help myself, except for one with plastic food we're Julia was frying plastic eggs and plastic bacon in a little plastic pan.

Doctors say you shouldn't stare at electronic devices before going to bed because the omit 'blue light' which confuses your sleep cycle. I wasn't just if it was the blue light or the three columns of overwrought text I was editing but I felt exhusted, both mentally and physically. I took a swig of rapidly cooling coffee for the fatigue and mentally portcullised the desire to switch off the computer and go to bed. I had a last minute deadline to complete. A dull review on a topic so recurrant that I felt like a vulture trying to scrap dessicated slivers of meat from bleached bones in a desert. What I really wanted to start writing about was my next project, the new shiny exciting story. It was something no one had written about. It was journalistic gold. The novality of it sent shivers of excited anticipation down my spine but I had to chase those distracting thoughts away and finish my current work. I reviewed the column one last time, broadly satisfied with the conclusion. I did a final spell checked it. Then I sent it off to my editor. I streached my arms towards the ceiling and yawned, watching the computer power down, it's fan whirring and abruptly cutting out, like a sigh. I felt accomplished. The last minitie deadline I'd just completed was penance for the couple of days I'd booked away from the office to research my new exciting piece. I trapzed through the house after using the restroom, turning off lights one by one as I climbed towards my room. I desperately needed sleep, after all tomorrow was a big day for me, my first day of pre-school. .... I couldn't get over how cute I looked. I was standing in front of the mirror. I wasn't wearing much, stripped to my underwear. Aside from the fact I don't usually pose for myself in my pants the big difference today is that I wasn't wearing panties per ce with my bra, I was wearing a part of pink pull-ups with Minnie mouse on the front. It was part of the costume. Part of the immersive experience of the world I was about to enter. A big thing for the Abdl community was wearing diapers, it was literally in the name, so I'd gritted my teeth and bought myself a package of bedwetter pants at the local store. Buying them had been the embrassing part to be honest, wearing them was a bit like wearing a pad and although they were a probay a bit too small for me, the stretchy sides made for comfortable snug fit. I continued to dress in a white shirt with a kitten on it, denium sortalls, ankle socks and sneakers. Oh and of course I put my hair in pigtails. Hopefully I looked to part of a toddler. Or at least the part of an adult dressed as a toddler. ... I arrived at the daycare with very little other than the clothes I was wearing and a bag containing a change of clothing as the daycare had advised. Lunch and anything else I would need would be provided. That presented a problem as I didn't have a note pad or dictaphone to record material, I'd just have to write up everything I could remember when I got back home today. I'd packed a spare pull-up on the bag as my change of underwear for authenticity but I had no intention of needing it. With trepidation I approached the reception desk. There were other people in the reception hall, making me feel conspicuous dressed In my childish atire. All were adults. Some where normally dressed, others were, well, dressed like babies, including one guy with a really obvious diaper buldge under his Dino onsie. It became clear that staff members were coming out to meet the adult babies and take them inside. The normal looking adults said there good byes and left. I noticed I was being given a non too surreptitious glance on account of showing up my myself. I supposed these people were all the adult/dommie side of the caregiver/little relationships I'd been reading about. I was kind of encouraging to see the 'littles' all had someone who would continue ooking after them when they went home tonight but my obvious lack of a caregiver (thus an anomaly in the room) and general feeling of being lost, encouraged me to press forward to the desk. "Hi. We may have spoken on the phone? My name is Kate Belgrave. I'm the reporter who wanted to write about your daycare and clients. I'd completed the enrollment forms and paid. Um, this is my first day. Is there someone to show me around?"

James struggled free of Thomas's grip. He couldn't bare to be touched by a person who had just stolen so much from him. Someone who had once hern his friend, of all people. He looked back towards the grand entry door they'd passed through. He felt a restless energy willing him to walk towards those doors and leave but where would that leave him? 'penniless'. James took a deep breath and tried to collect himself. "only one year? That's all I have to do?The. I get my patrimony and can leave?“

James slowly shook his head. His lips peeled back to form a malevolent grin, such was his anger that he could feel the tension rippling across ever muscle and tendon in his body. "Nah mate.." He stepped backwards, still shaking his head. "That ain't fuckin happening." His voice quivered. "None of that of that fucking bullshit was made clear on the document I signed so what you're suggesting is clearly a case of entrapment... I'm not calling you Daddy and I'm not going to let you plunder my Father's company. I'm leaving. Next time you see me I'll be with a lawyer. "

They entered the house. James dutifully unlaced and removed his brogues. The stained glass screened vestibule had a low set of walnut pidgeon holes which intuition told him were for placing his shoes. Indeed he could see, once stooped, that there were sets of slippers to change into. They were clean, soft and wouldn't carry in grit from the outside which might scratch the floors or stairs. They proceeded through to the hall. Light streamed down the stairs from a tall mid landing window. "Well... We're inside. Let's hear these rules of yours?"

"Rules? What kind of rules? Like, house-rules. Take your shoes off in the lobby. That sort of thing? Don't worry Thomas. I'm an adult. I'm gonna mess up the house." James reassured him. James watched the suburbs stream past the windows. They had left the urban grain of the city and were now amidst green leavy avenues of singular houses set back from the road by vast gardens and enclosed by boundary walls, hedges and gates. All you could really see where the roofs peeking over the parapets.

"I have a night bag back at the hotel. I only intended to be here for the reading of Will. A warning would have been helpful, now I'll have to have some of my things sent over from London. Hmm, tell me this? Did you know about these arrangements?“ Thomas's condesending attitude was starting to grate on James's nerves. He had studied hard for his degree and yet now he was expected to fill a junior role at the company.