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  1. Warning As with my previous stories, this one contains several elements inherent to the pre-established 'Diaper Dimension.' These include, but are not limited to: Diapers and their usage for their intended purpose Breastfeeding Non-consensual mental regression through various means (Including possible drugs, hypnosis, and/or surgery) References to surgery to achieve various nefarious goals Humiliation Giants, aka, Amazons or Bigs Predominantly female domination (some male) Babying of adults (perceived or otherwise) Experimentation on humans Kidnapping Coerced or manipulated actions through possible means of white lies, gas lighting, or incentives Mild language or use of explitives Depictions of death, illness, or handicaps Graphic imagery associated with any of these warnings This story has not been labeled as mature, due to a lack of specific references to anything overtly sexual, but this warning serves as a 'turn back' point for any readers who do not wish to read about the previous warnings. Lastly, this list is subject to change during the course of writing this story. While most of the plot is ironed out, more warnings may be added if needed. For those readers interested or do not care about the warnings listed, please enjoy the following story or for the first story, go to the following link: https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/86885-tell-me-more-a-diaper-dimension-story-chapter-7-complete/ Hey everyone! Welcome back and to the sequel of ‘Tell Me More.’ I’ve already mapped out the bulk of the story and it’s sitting at around seven chapters. I liked the symmetry from my previous story, and I think it’s just enough to get everyone into the story and be intrigued, but it’s not too long to frighten people away either from a lengthy read or a lack of time to do so. Additionally, as I will be going on a personal break, these chapters should be coming out pretty fast. As I said, there’s not a lot of them, and there’s enough time to pop them out almost every other day and still be fine, but just hold on and have some fun with this smaller tale. I’m here to tell you all that I think I’ve added in a nice ending to this story that I’m almost positive that many of you will like. Next, due to the break as well, there might be an extended period of time where I don’t post another story. I need to prepare for a few things personally or otherwise when I get back, not the least of which is the next story. In this light, I will be posting my next story options in the beginning of the following chapter. I will do my usual announcement of my next story during the final chapter, but with only seven chapters, there isn’t much time this go around, so definitely let me know as soon as possible if you want your opinion heard after the next chapter. Finally, I hope everyone enjoys this first chapter of this new story! Chapter 1: Hello Again I flipped over the toast for my morning breakfast sandwich I knew I was going to have to wolf down in the car again on my way to the office. It was already the top of the hour and the radio station switched to its next program already. A year ago, I would be listening to it in the office or on my way there, but such delays are just life when you’re the mommy of a regressed Little sometimes. Still trying to find some normalcy in my already chaotic morning though, I listened to the next familiar DJ coming on. “Good morning, Losantiville! I’m Carl95 and you’re listening to LDN, channel 109.6, direct from studio 74! Our latest story: it’s almost been one year since the indictment began regarding the Juventas incident. All reports from the company say that everything has been resolved and that no further incidents should occur. However, we’ve been receiving reports of numerous regressions all across the region. The story and your thoughts in the next hour.” The front doorbell then rang, just as I was able to wrap my sandwich up to go after taking a few bites of it first. I hurried over and opened the door. “Oh, there you are Tammy! I got so worried when you didn’t show this morning at your usual time.” I was already late, but I could clearly see the teenage girl was flustered and freaking out a smidge. It was also very unlike her to be late these mornings, so donning my therapist cap already, I changed my tone and my approach to the babysitter. “It’s okay. My first appointment is usually pretty late themselves and I’ve built in some buffer time lately anyway.” Tammy seemed relieved but also nodded sorrowfully. “I’m so sorry, Doctor M. I tried driving here as fast as I could but one of the main routes over here now has a massive pile-up. Some Little protest I think.” “Oh?” I knew it was the route I had to take myself to get to my office downtown. I knew full-well from other days that if I had taken it, I would have definitely been very late to see my first patient of the day. I hated starting out like that, so I was already feeling a little better with her arrival this morning. “Thank you for telling me, Tammy. I knew there had to be an explanation and now, I can avoid that way and still make it to see my first patient.” Tammy smiled and I could see her flustered state continue to ease up a bit. I knew that Vincent would appreciate that. “You’re welcome for letting you know Doctor M but thank you for not being upset as well. I promise that I’ll make sure to leave extra early tomorrow.” “I appreciate that, Tammy. You can hang up your purse like you usually do.” I then let her hang up her purse on the nearby coatrack peg, just in case to ensure it was out of reach of Vincent’s recently grabby hands. Once attached, I then gestured to her into the kitchen. “Come on. I still need to pour my coffee and Vincent could use a friendly face this morning.” Tammy nodded and followed behind, quickly snapping into her dutiful babysitter role in seconds. She was truly a lifesaver with the way my career had been taking off lately. Sensing my tension this morning, she was quick to ask, “Oh? Everything okay with the little man today?” I nodded as we passed into the kitchen where Vincent was still sitting in his highchair. Evidence of at least one incident this morning still remained at least smeared over his bib. “Overall, yes, but he was a little fussy with breakfast. A few other bits as well, but I think he’s just grumpy in general. You know how Littles can get in the morning sometimes…” Tammy nodded and instantly went over to greet him. Gratefully, he was smiling seconds after seeing her. I still wondered if she ever had figured out his real identity or not, but I was just glad they got along so well. Vincent and I shared a bond, but beyond my receptionist, Carol, or Tammy, he seemed to dislike most other Bigs. Getting him into daycare had proven ultimately futile because of that, but to my relief, Tammy still seemed to appreciate her work here though. I then poured the steaming pile of coffee into my thermos, added a little cream, and then grabbed the other half of my breakfast sandwich and my bag with all my files in it of the patients I was going to see today. “Okay,” I said, finishing my last checks to ensure I had packed everything away. “I think that should do it. I’m going to be awhile today, but I’ll check in like usual when I can just to make sure everything is still okay.” “You got it, doc,” Tammy said, already knowing the morning routine by heart and getting Vincent’s morning bottle ready. I knew from my own time spent with him most weekends that he would soon be enraptured in his bottle while watching Adventure Sam. It was a little above his intellect I think, but I was still worried that some shred of his mind remained buried under the surface. I guess in a way, I hoped that if I ever found myself in that situation, that someone would take pity on me as well and provide me some stimulation beyond a mere plush toy. I sighed and leaned over to give Vincent a little hug and peck on his forehead. “Bye-bye, Vincent. I’ll see you tonight. You be good for Tammy now, okay?” “Mamamama!” he babbled out back to me in glee. It was one of the few decipherable words I could make out from him and even that had been an uphill struggle last year when he showed some signs of improvement from his initial regressed state. The courts had sent an LPS agent to check on us and she seemed less than enthusiastic that he had shown any progress, due to his punished state, but without any further progress beyond maybe an eleventh month old at best, she still hadn’t sent in a negative report about us. Making my way to the hallway, he then began to fuss a bit, likely recognizing that I was once again leaving him for the day. Satisfied that Tammy would take care of any of his needs or fussiness though, I continued outside and closed the door behind me. I smelled the fresh lilacs in my front garden, sighed over the lateness of the morning, and then just got into my car. Before starting my car up though, I crossed my fingers and just hoped there wouldn’t be any other delays this morning. Finally in the car and driving pleasantly away to my office, I flipped on my radio. Carl95 was still talking about the Juventas incident from last year and was just finishing up with the last of his opinionated callers. “… I can’t believe the city hasn’t done more! I pay taxes to the government living here and we have an absolute crisis on our hands. My next-door neighbor used to be great at grilling and just to hang out with him to watch some of the track and field events. I mean, the Olympics are only a few months away, but now… the dude can barely pass a ball back and forth. No tricks, traps, or extra dosages, and I don’t care what anyone says from the hospitals down in the Carolusa’s. He doesn’t have maturosis. It’s this city and that darned Juventas.” There was a bit of a pause on the radio. What he said was nothing new and even as I drove into the main part of the city today, I could already see the PSA billboards talking about getting checked with your local doctor if you saw any unusual symptoms. “Well, thank you Frank for that… spirited response,” Carl95 responded flatly. “We’ll take callers in the next few minutes, but first, I would just like to give a huge shoutout to Dr. Trisha Mengell.” Drinking my coffee, I almost spit it out on my front windshield at the mention of my name. I still wasn’t used to all the attention I had been getting recently. “This fine doctor has been called the angel of our city, and I for one think that’s an apt title. Her work with Littles from not only our city but the rest of the state affected by all these recent outbreaks of regression is nothing short of amazing. By now, I’m sure we’ve all known someone affected by the outbreak, and I know this city is far better off with her presence in it. So, thank you, Dr. Mengell. I’m sure you’re out there helping another Little as I even speak now.” I quickly shut off my radio. It wasn’t that I minded all the press and publicity I had encountered recently, but I knew I had to focus on my patients today. Unfortunately, I was still reminded that after the mayor had even given me an achievement award for all my success in the previous last December, I had been distracted and I missed the distress of one of my patients that day. A car accident and one broken arm later, I still couldn’t shake the guilt from the distracted triumph that I had basked in back then. So, if it was even possible, I had tried to help even more patients since then. Regardless and refocusing, entering my office, I was just glad that the lobby finally stopped smelling of fresh paint and that three other tenants had subsequently moved in around me in the past year. Most were understanding of my practice at the end of the upper hall, and some had even referred some of their Little clients to me when one showed possible signs of regression. My approach, once thought of as fanciful well-wishing, had taken the city and even state by force. If it continued more like it had been this year so far, I was seriously considering adding a partner to my practice as well. Any more clients in desperate need of my help would take away my time from Vincent, and despite him spiking and regressing all his coworkers last year at Juventas and getting punished for it, as his mommy, I just couldn’t do that to him. Finally, I made it upstairs and walked into my office. Inside, I could see that Carol was already there, which was good because I could also see that Carmen and Kathy had also arrived. Carol was currently distracting the mentally younger Carmen while Kathy tenderly looked on. Carol quickly noticed me entering. “Oh, hey boss. Carmen was just getting a little restless so I thought I would pitch in and lend a hand this morning.” I smiled at my excellent assistant. “Thank you, Carol.” I then looked over to Kathy, who had acquired custody and guardianship of Carmen last year when the Little had burned herself on the stove while trying to cook some chicken nuggets for herself. Carmen was resistant at first, but further sessions between the two had since solidified their relationship and Kathy had even earned herself the title ‘mommy’ last month. “I just want to apologize to you, Kathy,” I directed at the Big, seeing as Carmen was clearly too distracted by the wooden blocks passing back and forth in the maze before her. “Lots of issues with Vincent this morning. You know how it is…” She smiled and nodded after briefly looking down at her adopted daughter playing on the ground. “Oh, do I ever these days.” I smiled and walked the rest of the way in. “Vincent had one bad dream last night, a blowout diaper this morning, and then got all picky this morning with his peaches. I really do love him dearly, but sometimes…” I let my insinuations float through the air. Knowing Carmen as I did, I knew Kathy would understand. And she did as she let out a little chuckle. “Oh yikes. I recently had to switch Carmen out of the Hippos brand and to the Koddles one instead myself. Way too many leaks all over the place.” “Mommee!” Carmen complained, quickly blushing with embarrassment. Carol, Kathy, and I all just grinned over her cute little red cheeks and the fact that she was now trying to hide herself as best she could. It might have been a small thing or even terrible for other Littles, but for Carmen to still be embarrassed over something like that, it still showed that her mental state hadn’t completely lapsed into a full blown regressed Little. “Sorry, pumpkin. Just chatting with Doctor M about mommy business,” she explained down to Carmen. Carmen still huffed and had now crossed her arms, a classic move I recognized very well from being her doctor for almost a year, but I could tell Kathy thought it was just cute. I had recommended Kathy last year as her guardian for that very reason. Kathy was stubborn and playful to Carmen’s chagrin most days, but Kathy could also take whatever was thrown back at her. Considering the four caregiver candidates Carmen had gone through before I recommended Kathy, I knew it was practically a requirement. “Okay,” I said, trying to break the tension between the two. I normally avoided that type of thing, but I also wanted Carmen to be open to talking today. Having her already in a bad mood when she came in would have only made things harder. “Let me just open my door and we can go in and have a little talk today. Is that okay, Carmen?” I asked her, only using a slightly higher tone with her, actively avoiding using the usual babyish cooing tone I used with Vincent and only a few select others. Seeing her wildly fluctuating emotions firsthand, Carmen quickly bottled up and hugged her floppy-eared bunny, she had appropriately named, Flopsy a few months ago. I was worried she would be uncooperative today, but she then ultimately nodded. ‘Good. She’s in one of her shy moods today now, but she still seems open.’ I smiled back and then went to open my office door. Flicking on the light, I held the door open as Carmen slowly waddled inside. It took her a minute to climb up onto the couch, not wanting to let go of Flopsy, but she managed to get the hang of it. Smiling further, I gave a thumbs up to Kathy to reassure her everything was okay, and then shut my door. Being a caregiver and mommy myself, I knew that as much as Littles had their own separation anxiety, we often did as well. Trying to put Vincent out of my mind though, I walked over and made sure not to make any loud noises on my desk. From the way that Carmen was hugging Flopsy this morning, I knew something had to be on her mind and I didn’t want to spook her into further silence. So, finally, I retrieved her file and sat down in my usual chair across from her before I opened it and read what was inside. * * * Patient Name: Carmen Baal Biological Age: 26 Years old Estimated Mental Age: Fluctuates with stress but a noticeable overall slip below preschool level Former Occupation: Mid-Level Billing Executive at Juventas Current Occupation: Retired with full benefits and compensated lifelong salary Regression Initiated: 364 days ago Notes: Patient was one of the least mentally regressed, and bouts of physical regression have now mostly stabilized, but mental regression appears to fluctuate with stress levels though rarely exceeds preschool level. Patient has often become shy when first entering but often talks through constant companion stuffed animal. Due to Little and regressed status under the care of her new mommy, I have decided to allow this ‘crutch’ behavior to continue. Further visits are likely due to coping problems with regressed status. * * * I stared back at Carmen and marveled over just how much she had changed in the past year. The Carmen that had first entered this office almost eleven months ago was so self-assured and confident. Despite a few embarrassing potty accidents and the whole incident with Juventas, she could still turn everyone’s heads when she walked into any room. Now, I was staring back at a very different Carmen. Her penchant for fashion or dresses hadn’t faded, but she now wore a ruffled trim sleeveless dress all adorned with raspberry-colored roses clearly meant for someone toddler-aged. She had worn some protection when she had first arrived here, for her own sake at that point, but as Kathy had noted, the Koddles she now wore were anything but discreet and as she hugged Flopsy, her dress fell down her knees a bit and I could see that she was already wet. I sighed and noted a few of my observations down, also trying to see if she would talk to me first. Sometimes she did, but today it seemed I would have to dig with her first. As most of my patients initially affected by the Juventas incident now only saw me every other week or I had transferred to other Little-specific therapists, seeming more in need of pediatric therapists now to be honest, Carmen was my last regular weekly seen patient now from the whole incident last year. I sighed and dropped my pad of paper a bit to look at Carmen better. I usually found more direct eye contact and my full attention worked better with her on days like today. “Carmen? Is there something you want to talk about first with me?” Seeing her emotions were in flux, I typically found the direct approach to her problems the best course. I could have been wrong, but her hesitation quickly showed me there was something there, even though she shook her head quickly after, sending her done-up hair twirling about her face. “Hmmm… I don’t know,” I said playfully. “I think there might be, but you know what? It’s okay to be scared or embarrassed sometimes.” I could see a slight movement in her body, so I knew she was listening to me and that I was on to something. I could even tell she wanted to talk as well, but since her regular mental age had dipped below grade school level, I had noticed she had become increasingly shier. It was even worse on the days her emotions were in flux and she dipped below preschool level, like today. So, I straightened up a bit and then leaned forward. I found some of my mentally younger patients found the pose to be more relaxed and engaged with them… less clinical in a way. “How about Flopsy, huh?” I asked, seeing more movement with her now. “Could maybe Flopsy tell me what happened this week?” I could still sense the hesitation, but essentially using Flopsy as a puppet, Carmen nodded its head. “Uh-huh,” she said in a slightly different pitch than her usual voice. It was really cute, but I had discovered that stuffy’s, personal or otherwise, made great shields for shy Littles to express themselves when they didn’t have the courage or confidence to themselves. Seeing she was willing to open up that way, I smiled. “That’s wonderful, Flopsy. I’m so glad you can tell me what happened to Carmen this week. You know, she’s a really good girl from I’ve heard from her mommy, so I bet she didn’t do anything wrong, am I right?” Carmen nodded Flopsy’s head. “I’m glad to hear that, so maybe start at the beginning and I can see if there’s something I can help with, okay?” Carmen hesitated, but eventually nodded Flopsy’s head. “’Kay… my fwiends at daycawe… I… I…” I could see whatever it was, was really affecting her today. As soon as she mentioned her friends though, I knew it was a possibility that the day had come where Carmen needed to be told some hard truths. See, she had met them at daycare when she first started going. They leveled out around preschool level, but now, that level of maturity only happened on Carmen’s best days. So, unfortunately, I already felt like I knew where this was going, but for the moment, I wanted her to tell me. “It’s okay, Flopsy. I’m here and I just want to help Carmen. I know it’s hard, but just start slow. Maybe just start slowly at the beginning, okay?” Carmen slowly nodded Flopsy’s head. “I… I…” “Deep breaths… just like we’ve been practicing. Deep breaths…” I reminded the duo in front of me. Carmen’s emotions had been wildly fluctuating lately and she had been having a lot of problems coping with them. I wasn’t sure if she remembered to breathe and try to calm down from our previous session, so I gently reminded her from time to time to reinforce the lesson. I could then see Carmen take some deep breaths. After a moment, she, and therefore Flopsy, looked up and continued. “We wewe pwayin’ wiff dem, wike we’ve done… fo’evuh,” she exaggerated. “We jus’ had some snacks, an’ dey wen’ potty… I didn’ haffta… buh’ den…” I could see her emotions welling up again. Sensing where this was headed, I reminded her again. “Deep breaths…” She followed the deep breaths I was doing as well to try and regulate her emotions better in a slow and relaxed manner. “Very good…” Carmen nodded Flopsy’s head and continued. “I was jus’ waffing wiff dem an’… an’… I…” Even with Flopsy as her surrogate, having seen all this before with several other Littles around this mental age, I could tell she couldn’t finish the thought. Sighing, I knew I would have to and knowing her by now, I knew it could only be one thing that would at least start to get her this upset. “You had a messy accident…” This time, Carmen nodded her head without Flopsy and instead hugged her bunny as tightly as she could. Curiously, I noticed her thumb begin to slip into her mouth as well this time. She then rocked back and forth for a moment, clearly trying to self-soothe, and I let her. It took all my strength not to just cuddle her up on the spot, but I knew I had to stamp down those emotions. I had to funnel them later for Vincent and not cross that line here at work. I was a professional and I had to remind myself that either Carmen need to self-soothe or she needed her mommy to cuddle her up tightly… not me as her therapist. After a moment, I was pleasantly surprised as her emotions seemed to start to level out once more. “Carmen,” I started again seeing that she could actually hear me now, “it’s okay to have an accident. Your mommy changes you into diapers still for a reason and having a messy one, though admittedly embarrassing, has been happening for a while now.” Carmen quickly nodded and still sucked her thumb while she held Flopsy tightly. I could tell I had broken through her initial shell, but I knew there was something more to the incident as well. As I told her already, she had been messing her diapers for a while now, so her emotions, though unpredictable to a certain extent, didn’t seem to warrant something like a messy diaper. So, I didn’t want to, but I knew I needed to push with this. “So, what happened after? Did you get changed then?” I began to pry at her. Carmen hesitated and when she finally popped her thumb out of her mouth, I could tell that she almost viewed the digit as a betrayer, clearly showing me that it was a recent habit, but she looked back at me and nodded. “Uh-huh… dey changed me wike a’ways… buh’ when I gah back…” She paused and started to stroke Flopsy’s ears for a moment. I wanted to know what happened next, but I let her self-soothe once more. While she was putting the attention on Flopsy, I knew it also served to temporarily ease her mind by shunting the bad feelings into each stroke of her hand. If it went longer than a minute, I would have spoken up to get us back on track, but she soon stopped and looked back up at me. “I… gah back, an’… an’… dey made fun o’ me!” she wailed. ‘Aha!’ I knew I was right with my previous suspicions over what had happened. I liked being right, but I often also hated in this job why I was right as well. Littles who bottomed out, or stabilized, at different ages often could remain friends. Unfortunately, though, that often wasn’t the case in my experience. “I’m so sorry to hear that, Carmen. Did a staff member help you out?” I asked, trying to see if there was at least some positive note in her story today. Fortunately, Carmen nodded. “Dey did, buh’… my fwiends! I dot dey woul’ be nice ta me, buh’ dey jus’ cawed me names an’ waffed!” I sighed and knew the time had come to have one of the more dreaded talks that I had to have with most Littles. I already had the talk with Carmen last year when her old friends weren’t regressing, and she was. She was of course devastated but that also just happened to be the time when she started having messy accidents during the day as well, so it made that transition a little easier. I had hoped that was the only time I was going to have to talk to her about friends and regression, but today had proved otherwise. Frankly, even despite my hope, seeing Carmen as she was, I was surprised it had even taken this long. “Carmen… do you have any other friends… at daycare, or maybe even with some of your Littles events your mommy takes you too?” I asked hesitantly. I knew from experience, this could either be a joyous moment, or one fraught with tension. Carmen nodded. “Yeah… buh’ dey aww babies!” Being a psychologist and therapist was hard sometimes for a variety of reasons. Right now, for example, it was hard not to see the irony in that statement coming from the Little before me. I could tell her diaper was even more wet now and that her thumb was once again dangling ever closer to her mouth threatening to pop back in at any second. Still, I had to maintain my professionalism. “And instead, you want to hang out with people your own age… maybe even older, right?” She quickly nodded and I wished there was a simple solution to her problem. On the one hand, if I told her to stick with her old friends, I knew she was in for more humiliation at some point. If they had laughed over a simple dirty diaper, there was no way that they wouldn’t laugh at the myriad of other problems that could arise in Carmen’s future. If, on the other hand, I told her to find new friends, it would be better long term for her, but she could lose trust in me. So, I knew I had to work around the problem. “Hmmm… would you say your friends, the ones who laughed, are older than you now?” I knew I was walking a very dangerous line, but I knew if she confirmed it, I could have my way in to help her out. Carmen hesitated, but ultimately nodded her head. “Uh-huh… o’ maybe? I don’ know…” I smiled to reassure her further. “That’s okay, Carmen. You don’t need to know that answer completely right now, but how do you feel about those younger than you? Your mommy told me last week that you go to a reading event at your library every week and met someone…” I quickly looked back at my notes I had jotted down after. “Lucy, I believe?” For a moment, I thought I could almost see a smile appear on Carmen’s face, but it was quickly replaced with annoyance. “Yeah… buh’ she’s much younguh dan me. She even dwinks fwom a bottle!” “Oh, I see…” I was sad she hadn’t found a friend there, but I knew that Lucy was perfect to use as my point. “So, she’s younger than you, and how does she make you feel when she does something like that? Like drinking from a bottle I mean?” Carmen looked at me questioningly and I knew I was going to have to give her a little more. “Maybe you think she’s babyish? Or helpless and you feel frustrated being with her? Or maybe you almost want to laugh because she’s a little silly perhaps?” Carmen instantly nodded her head. “Uh-huh! She’s such a baby! She even cwawls awoun’ on da fwoor!” Carmen then grinned and I knew she was playing right into my point. “Buh she’s awso weally funny when she twies to stan’ o’ walk!” I let her laugh to herself for a moment, but once she was a little calmer, I asked the question I had been leading to. “So, you want to laugh at her because she’s silly?” Carmen once again nodded. “Like your friends did to you at daycare?” Her smile instantly left, and I could see her mind was trying to come up with an argument against me. Traces of the old Carmen lingered, but I could also tell that her mind just wasn’t up to the task of arguing against me. “I’m not trying to make you think you did something wrong with Lucy, Carmen, but I want you to think about your other friends. They’re a bit older than you some days,” I made sure to add just incase she thought I was calling her a baby, “so, like with Lucy, they may see you as younger and sillier than them sometimes.” “Buh’ I don’ wan’ dem to laugh!” she countered. I knew I had to act quickly or risk another breakdown today. Too many and she would shut down completely. “But sometimes people can’t help when they laugh. If they’re doing it to be mean, then that’s a problem, like maybe when they call you names. Is that the case with them do you think?” Carmen hesitated again but ultimately shook her head ‘no.’ I honestly think that she was in denial with her friends, especially after hearing that they had called her names, but I knew I could only push this so far today. “Well, then you have three options with them. You need to tell them to stop, accept it when they do laugh, or find some other friends.” I could tell I was giving her a lot to think about and I knew we were getting to the limit of her current mental capacity. She wasn’t dumb and I will defend that opinion of all Littles to my dying day, but her brain just couldn’t keep all the complicated facts together anymore. As it stood, I had even started writing little notes to give out to the mommies, daddies, and caregivers of the Littles I saw like her. Carmen was no exception, and I knew Kathy would ensure what I told her today would stick one way or another. It wasn’t her fault that she couldn’t remember everything, and I still wanted to help her out, whether she did it herself or had her mommy help her. “Okay, Carmen, I think that’s enough of that for today. I want you to think about all that when you go home today, but for now, I want you to tell me some good parts of your week instead. Can you do that for me?” I asked with a hopeful tone in my voice. Carmen popped out of her deep thoughts and nodded enthusiastically. “Uh-huh! Mommy an’ me wen’ to da zoo da odder day! I got ta see da fishies an’ da whinos an’ da…” I smiled and continued to listen to my Little patient. I was always happy when they could list dozens of things during their week that were good. Last September, she couldn’t have done that if her life depended on it, and now, even if the items she listed were of the more childish or babyish variety, she was still excited by each thing she told me. I always found that, if at all possible, it was always best to end a session on a good note. A little while later and a few conversations about diaper checks, finger painting, new foods, and all that, our session was over. I set my pad on my desk and walked over to help Carmen off the couch. Her diaper had swelled considerably during the session and still holding Flopsy, her waddle made her already labored walking even more difficult. “Mommy!” she cried, running back over to Kathy after I opened the door. Kathy quickly crouched down to greet her adopted Little. “Baby! How’d your session go today? Learn anything new or whatnot?” Carmen quickly nodded and babbled off half a dozen things that we talked about. Kathy was attentive every minute, but soon gave her a quick hug and nodded up to me before looking back at Carmen. “Okay, sweetie. You play with Flopsy or color for just a minute while me and Doctor M talk for a second, okay?” “Yes, mommy!” Carmen replied happily, settling in with Flopsy to color in one of the books I had lying on the coffee table in my lounge. ‘I swear, I go through a dozen or so of those books each week.’ Kathy then rose back up and smiled at me. “So, anything I should be worried about this week, doc?” I smiled over at Carmen, who was now thoroughly engrossed in coloring in a picture of Princess Poppy. Even five months ago, she would have been glued to everything we were talking about her, but not anymore. “She’s had a few incidents at daycare with her friends that I want you to keep an eye on.” I then handed her the note I had written for her. “I’ve given her some options on how to deal with her friends laughing at her and calling her names, but I think she’s going to have some tough weeks ahead unfortunately.” Kathy sighed and nodded. “Yeah… I was thinking that was going to be the case. I’m trying to get her involved in more activities for her age, but she’s just so…” Kathy then paused and seemed to try to figure out just what the right words were. “Stubborn over being an older Little still?” I finished for her. Kathy quickly nodded. “I’ve seen that too, but as long as you’re trying for her, then that’s all you can do sometimes. She’s a regressed Little now but she was a former independent adult, so don’t forget that. She’s making progress at accepting her current life, but she’s going to struggle with a few things still.” Kathy nodded. “Thanks, doc. Was there anything else?” I sighed and I wasn’t sure if I should even bring it up, but right as I was having doubts, I noticed that once again, Carmen was circling her lips absent-mindedly with her thumb. “Just one thing… have you noticed her sucking her thumb recently?” Kathy grinned and nodded. “I have. Cutest thing when I first saw it, but… I mean, should I be concerned at all?” I shook my head. “No. I wouldn’t be. If she shows signs of stabilization or even maturing, we might try to break the habit, but for now, I might actually encourage it in a way.” “Encourage it?” she questioned skeptically. “Didn’t something just come out that says it can be harmful to Littles?” “Eh, the reports vary,” I admitted, “but most will say the same thing that I will. If she’s going to be sucking her thumb anyway, I would highly recommend one of those orthodontist pacifiers. Do that and it will knock down most of the negatives in those reports.” “But won’t she reject them outright?” she asked, clearly fearing a tantrum or some other outburst as she looked over at Carmen, still furiously coloring away, the lines almost seeming like more of a suggestion in most places. “I mean… pacifiers just seem so… babyish.” I sighed. “That’s all true, but I think her mind is learning to accept a lot of things. I saw her catch herself today looking at her thumb, so I know she’s aware of it on some level at least but look at her now.” Kathy did and I subtly gestured to the difficulty she was already having with coloring with one hand and holding Flopsy while still rubbing her thumb around her lips with the other. “Recent orthodontic pacifiers have a lot of benefits we Bigs know about, like reducing germs and keeping her teeth healthy, but to her, a pacifier will likely eventually be seen as a way to get all she wants. It’s hands free, and that’s what she’ll focus on after a bit of encouragement.” I could see Kathy’s hesitancy still though. “Just try one and don’t make a big deal out of it. Maybe even just leave it in her room by her coloring books and see what happens.” Kathy ultimately agreed and we talked about a few other odds and ends, but the remaining bit of time during our session soon came to an end. I had built in a bit of a buffer zone at the end for conversations like I just had with Kathy for most of my mentally younger patients. Littles like Carmen could only sit still and talk for so long in a session like that, and by the time the Little got to that stage, their caregivers needed to be told of things instead anyway. Satisfied, Kathy then gathered Carmen up, both said their goodbyes and started walking out my front door. As they were leaving though, Kathy turned back around, and I could tell she had that look of ‘just one more thing.’ I always hated that look because it usually meant something bad. ‘Oh, one more thing… I hear voices.’ ‘Oh, one more thing… I started wetting the bed at night.’ ‘Oh, one more thing… I can’t read anymore.’ “Uh, just one other thing… do you have a recommendation for another Little doctor in the area for general checkups and whatnot?” she asked, still trying to hold onto the clearly impatient Carmen tugging on her other arm. “Everything okay?” I asked inquisitively. I had a duty to protect my patients and bad general doctors for Littles were more common, even up north here in Losantiville, Libertalia, than I would have liked to admit. Kathy quickly nodded to my relief. “Oh yeah. Everything was fine, but I think the practice moved or something like that. Just need a new one with pollen season coming up and all. I don’t want Carmen to get all frustrated with sneezing every six seconds. Apparently, it made her potty issues last year much worse.” I smiled and nodded. “Oh, I remember. I’ll be sure to add a few I might recommend with her file in the patient portal by tonight along with the suggestions I have for her dealing with friends now.” Kathy smiled and I could see her get pulled once more by the anxiously waiting Carmen out in the hallway. “Thank you, doctor.” She looked back over at Carmen and grinned over her antics. “Guess we better be off now. I think someone could use a snack and a change.” “Mommee!” Carmen wailed out again in protest and embarrassment. I knew Kathy was right though from what I had seen during our session and seeing the time myself as well, I quickly said my goodbyes to both and saw them out. Carol then quickly helped me wipe everything down and reorganize the office in looking a little tidier and more professional once again. We had made that mistake with my next patient last week and I knew not to repeat it again. She was already temperamental and a bit fragile with all this still, so I knew everything had to be perfect for our session to go well today. Just as I finished retrieving my next patient’s file and organizing my desk, I heard the downstairs door quickly open and then slam shut. She was here and I braced against my desk and closed my door in anticipation of my next Little. She had expectations of seeing a court-ordered therapist and I wanted to match each of them. I just hoped that today, she would trust me a little more.
  2. I've been in diapers 24/7 for about 6 months now and neither me or my CG would change a thing. It's the best decision I ever made, and while in little mode my mommy loves how much attention and affection she gets. We chat and decided to make a list of rules for the little to follow. I like the feeling of having a set role and expectations to follow. It makes me feel more safe to be little and cared for. Below is what we came up with 1: TigerTy will wear diapers 24/7. No exceptions 2: TigerTy will use the diapers as they were intended (potty is banned), except at work 3: TigerTy cannot remove his own diaper if mommy is available 4: TigerTy will not talk bad about himself, or be negative. The pacci will be used if so 5: TigerTy will tell mommy when he goes potty at work so she can make sure he's healthy 6: TigerTy will be given a bath, or told to shower after work. Then dressed and expected to be little 7: TigerTy can not touch himself. He will be placed in a cage if so 8: TigerTy must be in a car seat if riding in Mom's car 9: Chores cannot be completed unless Mommy says so (helps to relax, her idea) 10:Mommy has final say and must be listened to 11: Diapers can be checked and changed at any place, or time The hardest part will be committing to only using diapers outside of work and never the potty no matter what. It's still really embarrassing to rely on someone so completely but makes me feel incredibly little. Just wanted to share some happy news and show that there is hope to find the perfect caretaker for you . PS, don't forget to show your big some love today
  3. Hi guys! Melissa's Re-Potty Training is completed in my website: The Padded Playground. There you will find all of my finished and on-going stories, including Rebecca's Second Babyhood, Cuckolded & Diapered!, A Mother's Mistake and more. Melissa’s Re-Potty Training It was a beautiful day. Boys and girls were playing in the park, teenagers were hanging at the mall, and twenty-one-year-old Melissa was stuck inside her nursery. If there was anything that made the whole baby treatment unbearable, it was how time seemed to slow down as the day grew older. She sighed. By now, her friends would be at the beach or with their boyfriends. But not Melissa. No. Babies have no boyfriends. Babies aren’t allowed out of their playpens when Mommy’s busy. And her stepmother was busy. She was busy with her real daughter. Three-year-old Amelia had already been potty trained and was allowed to do more things than Melissa. And she was twenty, almost twenty-one. An adult. But here she was, diapered and wearing a ridiculous baby girl dress. If her friends could see her now, would they laugh? Would they help her? Would they change her already-soaked diaper? It had been weeks since she was last allowed to wear big-girl panties. Weeks since she tasted the sweetness of freedom. Independence was now out of the question. She doubted she could make it without someone looking after her, changing her, bathing her, feeding her. Was this to be her life now? No longer an adult but a baby. Chapter 1 The Re-Potty Training Idea As Melissa entered the elegantly appointed dining room, her heart raced with apprehension. With each step, her unease grew heavier within her chest. The once familiar surroundings now felt suffocatingly foreign, as if she were a stranger in her own home. Her gaze drifted toward the large portrait hanging above the fireplace, where the stern visage of her stepmother Helen stared back, conveying nothing but disapproval. Melissa had always felt that Helen saw her as an inconvenience, a constant reminder that her husband had had a full life before her. And Helen was a jealous woman. She had always belittled Melissa, and now that Melissa's dad was gone, she was alone with no one on her side but her best friend, Dana. Sadly, Dana didn’t live with her, and she needed an ally. "There you are, Mel," said Helen as Melissa entered the room, "I've been waiting for you." Helen's presence filled the room with an air of menace, casting a shadow over Melissa as she took her seat. As they sat together at the polished wooden table, the silence grew heavy between them, broken only by the soft scraping of silverware on porcelain. Tea, as Helen called it, was a constant ritual at home. “How you been?” “All good.” “Hows’s job hunting treating you?” “There’s not much out there unless I want to work for KFC or something like that.” “I see. Anything else you’d like to share with me?” Melissa shook her head, thinking about one thing she didn’t want anyone to know. But her step-mother reached across the table and gently placed her hand upon Melissa's trembling fingers, her eyes cold and calculating. “I think it's about time we addressed your... little issue." Melissa didn't know what to say. She had been having the same problem for about a month. It started as something small, but it had spiraled out of control, and now she had no idea what to do. She had wet herself so many times so far that it was a miracle no one had found out. "What issue?" asked Melissa with a soft and doubtful demeanor. Maybe if she played dumb she could end this awkward conversation. "Look, if you want to pee yourself, that's okay," said Helen, "But you won't do it in my house. Not when I'm working so hard to potty train your sister." "Step-sister. And it's not your house. It's my dad's." "And according to his will, it's now mine." "And mine!" There was a short moment of silence. "Look," said Helen, grabbing Melissa's hand, "I want us to stop fighting all the time. Your father would've like that. What do you think?" Melissa nodded, hesitant, though. She wasn't fully convinced by Helen's intentions, and rightfully so. In the past, Helen had shown no kindness towards her. Helen leaned closer, her voice softening, "I don't want you to feel ashamed anymore. We can help you fix this." Melissa glanced down at her hands, gulping, "I don't know what to do." "Well, I was thinking. Amelia is going through potty training. She's still too small to understand much, right? So, why don't I potty train you alongside her?" Melissa almost choked with her own saliva. "What do you mean potty training me? I'm an adult!" "I know. I know you are. But listen to me, it's easy. We just need to teach your body how to hold it until you go potty. That shouldn't be too hard. As you said, you are an adult, and I bet a couple of weeks should be enough. Because if you cannot control it, I'm afraid diapers will be the only way." Melissa's jaw dropped, "You're kidding, right? I'm not... there's no way I'm wearing diapers. I'm an adult, remember? And at twenty-one, I get my dad's money, and I'll be out of here." "True. But you aren't twenty-one yet. And you are here, ruining your clothes and my furniture and setting a terrible example for your sister." Melissa didn't really have an argument; she just knew she didn't wanna be back in diapers at twenty-one. “Step-sister,” she said, “What do you mean potty training me?" “I think that part is self explanatory, right? We take you potty in a schedule until you stay dry in between potty trips. Then we decrease the frequency until you earn your big girl panties again. Eventually, your body will get used to it, and you'll go yourself. How does that sound?" "How does that help me now? I mean, I will still," she paused, blushing and ashamed, "Wet myself until we get it under control." "We can do what I'm doing with Amelia," she said, smiling, "Protection under your clothes." "No! I told you, no diapers." "Pull-ups aren't diapers. They are protective underwear." "What's the difference?" "For starters, they don't use tabs. They are easy to hide under your clothes. They are less bulky and noisy. They are completely different and they are very helpful during potty training..” "I don't know," said Melissa, thinking about how awkward it would be to have that "protective underwear" around her crotch. And what if someone found out? She was already not popular with people her age. Her only friend, Dana, was a little odd herself. Maybe she wouldn't mind. But there was no way she would tell her about it. "I just want to help you," said Helen, “Besides, this could be an excellent way for us to connect. You know, have that mother-daughter experience we never had.” Melissa sighed, ”When do we start?" "What about right away?" Helen wasted no time. She grabbed Melissa by the wrist, softly leading her deeper into the house. Through halls and corridors and stairs until they were in a room painted soft pink. It was Amelia’s room, and she wasn’t there. “Amelia’s playing outside. In her sandbox.” “She won’t know?” “She will. But she won’t care. She’s only three.” Helen grabbed some white underwear with the design of some Disney princess on the front. It was small, but, then again, Melissa was quite thin. Tall, yes, but thin. “Try this on,” said Helen, placing the pull-up in Melissa’s hand. It was defiantly thicker than regular underwear, and the deign was childish. But Helen was right, they didn’t look that much different from her panties. “A little privacy, please.” Helen left the room, leaving Melissa in the nursery. She carefully dropped her pants to notice her underwear was already damp. Sighing, knowing she actually needed the protection, she took her panties off and cleaned herself with some baby wipes she had close by. Finally, the moment of truth. She slid into the pull-ups, feeling the soft thickness of it against her gentle crotch. She didn’t dare to look at herself in the mirror. She rushed to get her pants on again, and when she was sure her protective underwear wasn’t visible, she left the room. Chapter 2 Potty Time Melissa sat at the dining table, staring blankly into space, while Helen prepared lunch. Each clink of the dishes sent a shiver down her spine, reminding her of what was around her crotch. The pull-up wasn't as uncomfortable as she thought it would be, but it was definitely not something she liked. She had kept it dry so far, though it had not even been an hour yet. Helen entered the room carrying a tray laden with fries, nuggets, and fresh salad. She smiled gently at Melissa, something the young woman wasn’t used to. Next to the her was her younger stepsister, Amelia. At three, she looked like a mini version of Helen herself. It was obvious she was destined for popularity, unlike Melissa, and somehow, even if Amelia had always been nice to her, she always resented her. “Mel's potty training too, Mommy?" asked Amelia as she grabbed a handful of fries. "That's right, hun." Melissa tried to smile back, but it seemed forced. Helen noticed her discomfort and quickly added, "Don't worry, sweetie. We'll take it slow, and I'll be there to help you every step of the way." Feeling slightly more reassured, Melissa nodded. "Thanks." As they all sat down to eat, Melissa couldn't help but notice the subtle shift in Helen's behavior. Helen seemed to genuinely want to help her, but she wondered why. "It's time for the potty," Helen announced once everyone was finished with the meal. Helen gave them no time to argue as she grabbed both their wrist, pulling them towards the living room, where a plastic potty awaited. "Is that really necessary?" asked Melissa in shock. "It's just part of the process. Show me you can use the plastic potty, and you can move onto the toilet. It shouldn't be difficult. Should it?" Before Melissa could continue arguing, she was interrupted by her stepmother. "Who wants to go first?!" asked Helen again with a devilish smile. Amelia raised her hand. Within minutes, the younger of the three had done her business like a professional. "I'm a big girl!" said Amelia, smiling from ear to ear, "I'll be potty trained first!" Those words weighed heavily in Melissa's mind. The little brat was as competitive as her mother. It had been cute a few years ago, but now, she was just annoying. Melissa felt her rage growing stronger, fueled by the constant tease. But she fought back against it. After all, Helen was only trying to help. And Amelia needed the encouragement. "Yes, you are," said Helen, "But I think Melissa will surprise us too, right Mel?" Melissa nodded. Despite her frustration, she decided to give it a try. If nothing else, she owed it to Helen since she helped her when nobody else did. Taking a deep breath, she lowered herself onto the seat of the tiny plastic potty. In contrast to Amelia's confident demeanor, Melissa felt vulnerable and exposed. However, knowing that she must prove her mettle, she closed her eyes and focused on relaxing her muscles. But nothing. A minute passed. And then another. She pushed harder. Nothing. She pushed again, and a loud fart echoed in the room. Melissa blushed as her stepmother and stepsister giggled. One more minute passed. Another. And nothing. "Alright," said Helen, "I don't think it's going to happen." "No, wait!" said Melissa, pushing harder now, "I can do this." "Honey, you're going to give yourself a stroke if you push that hard. It's okay. You didn't make it this time. Let's just try again later." "I made it in the potty, Mommy. I'm winning!" said Amelia, happy as just a kid could be. But as Melissa pulled her pull-up and pants back up, she couldn't help but feel pathetic and like a failure. She was and adult, and she couldn't even control her body enough to pee. "You'll make it next time. It's okay. It's the first time you've tried. I'm sure you'll make it," said Helen, and for the first time since Melissa met her, she actually felt as if her stepmother cared about her. Perhaps this potty-training idea wasn't that bad after all. With her first time on the potty a failure, Melissa had nothing left to do but wait. She was to call for Helen's help if she felt the need to go, but the thought of having to ask for help to pee was too embarrassing to even consider. She was a big girl. She could make it to the toilet without any help. And so she waited. "Potty time," said Helen an hour later as Melissa worked on her resume. It wasn't looking that good, but she wasn't twenty-one yet, and she needed the money if she wanted to go out that summer with her friends. "One minute," said Melissa, staring at a blank page. Maybe tomorrow, she could try again. It's not as if she was in dire need to get a job. If only being an adult wasn't that difficult. She stood up and went straight to the living, where Helen and Amelia were waiting beside the plastic potty. "Your sister's dry," said Helen, "What do we say?" "Congrats," said Melissa, pretending to care enough to form a smile. Helen approached Melissa with a gentle demeanor, almost motherly, "Now, let's check our big girl." "What are you...?!" Helen's finger found their way to the elastic band of Melissa's pull-up. The young adult blushed, trying to get away but failing. "My dear," said Helen, removing her fingers from Melissa's crotch, "You're wet. "What? No. I'm not!" Melissa rushed her hand to her padded crotch only to notice it was bigger and warmer and obviously full of urine. It couldn't be. She didn't feel it. She was a big girl. She should be able to make it to the potty. Her eyes turned watery, and her knees began shaking. "I'm sorry," she said, fighting back the tears. Helen embraced her with no hesitation. A warm embrace. The sort of touch only a mother could provide during times of distress, and for a second, Melissa felt less of a failure. "It's okay, honey," Helen said, patting her back carefully, "That's what your pull-ups are for. You'll make it next time." It sounded familiar – like some of those truisms parents tell children to encourage them. As much as she despised admitting it, her stepmother's kind words did help. Perhaps Helen was right. She might very well make it next time. It was just one accident. She would make it to the potty next time. There was no way she would lose the race for potty training against her younger stepsister. But for the entire week, Amelia outperformed her. “I’m a big girl!” She would sing as she made it to the potty. Meanwhile, Melissa sat there and nothing would come out. As if her body was actively working against her. Every day she would have to use three pull-ups or more while her younger step-sister was about to graduate to big girl panties. “Maybe we started you too early,” said Helen as she checked Melissa’s underwear, “It doesn’t seem you’re making any progress. If anything, it looks like you’re regressing.” Melissa blushed at her words. “We’ll keep trying tomorrow. But we might need a different approach if things keep going this way.” Melissa said nothing as she got ready for bed that night. Now alone in her room, her thoughts were flooded with the idea of failing her second potty-training. What would she say to Dana? She had been avoiding her best friend all week in hopes she could get her accidents under control. Melissa sighed, closing her eyes, hoping the next day would be better. However, when she woke up, she noticed something new as she moved in her bed. The padding between her legs was heavier and colder.
  4. Hi! Hi! I am CD! I am looking for a F4F Mommy that is interested in a ABDL girly like me. I am a 22 Lesbian and I am looking for someone that is looking for a long term relationship. I would love to see if we fit. I have a discord account, and my favorite shows are Bluey, and rn I thing I am really into watching Gravity Falls. I am a big fan of Homestuck. my Homestuck Godteir is Muse of Mind. My favorite movies are the Princess Diaries, Birds of Prey and Suicide Squad with Margot Robbie as Harley Quinn. I also love Alice in Wonderland (Johnny Depp), Maleficent, and Cruella. I also really love Where the Wild Things Are and Avatar (like from the way of water) :3 My favorite diapers are Bunnyhopps from ABUniverse. I love the kawaii themed diapers from anywhere to be honest though. My music tastes are house, electric, rap, lofi, 8bit game music and hyperpop. I love fashion, and Music as I am studying music theory, I also want to study dance. I am studding these things on my own. My favorite games are Animal Crossing and Minecraft. If any F4F mommies are interested in getting to know me please send me a message so we can get to know eachother (please no petnames until we are close, I go by CD) I have a lot of freetime to get to know a new friend and potentially meet the mommy of my dreams! :3 Thank you & Have a wonderful day!!
  5. Hello I've been reading a bunch of little space stories and became inspired to write my own. It's the first story I've written like this so I hope everyone enjoys it. Chapter 1 Classification Day Sarah looked around the auditorium, there were just over two dozen students assembled. Every year from the ages of fifteen to eighteen students are tested for any developing classifications. Those who test positive are divided into three types, dominant, subordinate, and neutral, with several subtypes under dom and sub. Sarah figured she was going to be a caregiver, she always loved playing with her little cousins. Loved seeing them happy and smiling. Caregivers are usually taller but it's not unheard of them to be shorter than six feet. She stood just over five feet tall, with chestnut brown hair and sparkling green eyes that seemed larger than normal. Her face was soft and slightly puffy giving her an innocent look. It was a source of frustration for her, while it helped her when dealing with kids and littles, adults treated her younger than she actually was. The other students looked around nervously, a few of them were obviously friends as they huddled together whispering amongst themselves. She can't blame the others, they probably didn't know what they were going to be. Their attention was drawn to the front by an opening door. A woman walked from the open door to the podium, tapping on the mic before turning her attention to the students. “Welcome to Classification assignment,” the woman said. She was taller than the assembled students. Standing at least six feet tall, with long blond hair and a warm gentle face. “You all can call me Miss Clarissa, and today you’ll all be tested for a classification.” The students' voices raised as a few blurted out questions. Miss Clarissa raised her hand, silencing everyone. “I know you all have questions but we have a lot of students to get through. When your name is called please go through those doors.” she pointed to a set of double doors that stood open. A nurse in scrubs standing there with a list. “Sarah Anderson,” the nurse called. Sarah jumped a little and walked over to the woman, who had a gentle smile on her face. Sarah was led to a small area sectioned off with some partitions. “Please sit. Today we're going to be drawing some blood and then you’ll take the Bectel test.” “Is it painful?” Sarah asked. “Not at all sweetie, some electrodes will be placed on your head then you’ll watch a video while a computer monitors your neural activity. Now I'm going to draw some blood. Is that alright with you?” Sarah nodded her head, and watched the nurse take out a blood draw kit and several vials. She wrapped an elastic band around the girl's arm before feeling for a vein in the crook of her elbow. It took her a moment to find an acceptable vein but she nodded in satisfaction and cleaned the area with an alcohol wipe. Popping the safety cap off the butterfly needle she went to insert it. The girl watched the needle, her heart racing as it drew closer to her skin. She squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her hands. “Relax sweetie, it’ll only take a moment,” the nurse said gently. Sarah nodded and unclenched her hands, whimpering as she felt the needle pierce her skin. “Shh shh, you’re fine. Just going to take a moment,” she spoke calmingly and soothingly. “Just one more. That's a good girl.” The nurse took four vials before removing the needle and taping a cotton ball to the puncture. Sarah felt a few tears fall from her eyes as she watched the nurse put labels on the vials and drop them into a bag. The nurse walked away and came back a few seconds later with a sucker. “Here you go darling,” she said, handing it out. “Ready for the next part? I promise it won't hurt.” “‘Kay,” Sarah said with a sniffle. The nurse led her through the room, other kids were having their blood drawn. One of them bawled their eyes out. She tried to focus on her breathing. Trying to calm her racing heart. She didn't notice when they left the room and entered a small room with a machine in it. An older man stood beside a small reclining chair. “I have Sarah Anderson here,” she said, handing over some paperwork. “Excellent, can you sit here for me,” the doctor asked gently. Sarah nodded and hopped up on the chair, her head feeling fuzzy from the needle, she always hated needles. The doctor explained what he was going to do, which she mostly ignored. Except for the last part which caught her attention. “... then once I get a baseline reading I'm going to show you a video.” “Video…?” “Yes, it's just some funny shapes and colors,” he said, walking over to the computer, then tapping a few buttons. “Ready sweetheart?” She nodded again, and watched him flip a switch with trepidation. Bracing for the unknown she was slightly disappointed when nothing happened. He simply smiled down at her, putting her at ease. While she waited she looked around the room. It was a classroom, all the desks were pushed to one wall and the room divider was stretched across it, dividing the classroom in half. “One of my colleagues is in the other half with another Bectel tester,” he said, following her gaze. The computer dinged and he clapped his hands together. “Alright sweetheart, I'm going to start the next part now, go ahead and look at the TV there.” “‘Kay…” she said watching the tv. It was still black for a moment before turning on. It was showing a pure white image. She started to turn her head when the doctor gently patted the top of it. “Keep watching.” She nodded and became entranced as some shapes and colors flashed on screen. They began to change, changing size and color. As she watched her head began to feel fuzzy again. She shook it, trying to clear it while keeping her eyes on the screen. But the fuzzy feeling continued. Spreading through her whole head. The funny shapes continued to change. “Pwetty…” “How are you feeling sweetheart?” “I few fuzzy,” she giggled. “Do you know where you are?” “Scoo!” she exclaimed. “That's right,” he said, smiling at her. “Pwetty sparkus,” she beamed. The video kept her rapt attention, running for a while before fading back to pure white. “Are you with me sweetheart?” “Huh?” Sarah blinked several times before shaking her head. “What…?” “We're done, you'll receive your results in a few days after the bloodwork finishes.” “Thank you,” she said. “No thank you for being such a good girl,” he said, smiling as her cheeks turned pink. “Nurse, I'm ready for the next one.” Sarah looked at the clock, somehow thirty minutes had passed already. Her attention was pulled away as the door opened up. The nurse led another student into the room and took Sarah back to the auditorium. “Sarah Anderson?” Miss Allison called. “Yes ma’am?” “You may go home, take this letter to your parents please,” she said, holding out a sealed envelope. “Yes ma’am,” she said, taking the offered envelope and walking to the door. She pulled her phone from her pocket and texted her mom asking for a pickup. Settling down to read something while she waited. She got a few chapters through one of her favorite little stories before her mom pulled up. “Sarah sweetie,” her mom called her, making her jump. She was so focused on what she was reading she didn't notice her mom standing in front of her. “How’d it go?” “It was alright, they took some of my blood and hooked me up to a weird computer.” “Ah, I remember the day I was classified. Everyone there said it was obvious what I was,” she said, a nostalgic tinge to her voice. “Really?” Sarah asked, hopping to her feet and following her mom to their car. They both climbed into the car, and buckled in. “Yea, it was very obvious I was a dom even before then.” “It was?” “Yea, I was already more developed than other girls my age, and I was very authoritative. The next year I met your father,” she said, then sighed. It was true, her mom was nearly six feet tall, standing at five foot eleven. She was a mistress, which she reluctantly told her daughter. Much to Sarah's embarrassment. Her mother had the same chestnut hair, but hers fell down to the middle of her back. Her warm honey colored eyes drew the viewer to her face, with its small dainty nose, full pouty lips, and sensual smile. “I miss dad,” Sarah said, sniffling slightly, a tear rolling down her cheek. “I do too.” A silence between them fell as her mother drove back to their house. “So, any idea what your classification is?” her mom asked, breaking the silence. “Caregiver probably.” “You do have a lot of fun playing with Alice and Sam. Are you sure you’re not a little?” “No mom, I don’t want to be a little.” “Why not sweetie?” “Cause I don't want to be reliant on someone my whole life. I don't want to be restricted from being an adult. I don't want my freedom taken away. Besides, I don't have any little tendencies.” “Still you might be surprised,” she said softly. “Mom no, I don't even want to think that way. I’ll be a caregiver. End of story,” she said, crossing her arms. “Alright sweetie,” her mom said, chuckling softly. “Did they say how long you have to wait?” “No, but they gave me a letter for you,” she said, pulling it out of her pocket. “Hold on to it until we get home sweetie.” “‘Kay mom.” Sarah pulled out her phone and texted her best friend Melissa. She’s also doing her classification test today, but later than Sarahs. With a big yawn her head bobbed and fell to her chest as she fell asleep. ***** “Sweetie, time to get up.” “Huh?” Sarah stirred, looking at her mom bleary eyed. “We’re home.” She looked around in confusion. “Still tired sweetie?” Sarah nods and holds up her arms. “Such a spoiled girl,” her mom said, giggling as she picked up her daughter, pocketing the envelope that had fallen from her grip. Carrying the half awake girl to the front door. She used her free hand to open the door. “We’re back,” she said, closing the door behind her. “Welcome back Mistress Michelle,” a woman called from the other room. “How’d it go?” “Well enough,” she replied, walking into the living room. Placing her daughter down on the couch she turned to face a woman who looked very different than her. Smaller with light blonde hair and clear blue eyes. She was much smaller at only “Long day?” “I think she was just stressed. You know how stressful classification day can be,” she sighed sitting down next to the woman, who pressed into her side and hummed contentedly. “I know, my mom was sad that I got designated as a pet,” she said nuzzling into Michelle. “Like she was super supportive but I could tell she was disappointed.” “And it's her loss,” she replied, planting a kiss on the smaller woman's lips. “You’re a wonderful woman, Ariel. And an amazing pet. “I’m so glad you adopted me,” she said. “Especially after Jason.” “Shh shh, don't even think about him,” Michelle said, swiping a tear from her pet's cheek. “Should we wake Sarah up?” “No, leave her to sleep for now, it's barely been twenty minutes. She gave me a letter,” she said, holding up the sealed envelope. Dear Miss Michelle, This letter is to inform you that preliminary results show that your daughter will be classified as a little. You should make sure she's aware and ready to receive the official announcement, as well as her official regression range. Should she drop before receiving the results we encourage you to allow it to progress naturally. Sarah will be required to attend special classes. Before her eighteenth birthday we advise finding her a caregiver. If she doesn’t have a registered caregiver sixty days after her eighteenth birthday a foster caregiver will be assigned to her. Once her age range is established a list of required items will be supplied with the classification folder. Best regards, Agent Alexi, C.L.P.S. “Shit…” Michelle swore. “What?” “Sarah’s going to be pissed…”
  6. Hi! I’m new to the community! Nice to meet u! I want a mommy so this bby girl can have her diaper changed and feel like the most special girl in the world 🥰🥰 I don’t want a daddy! I already have enough issues with them.
  7. Hi, I'm a mommy leaning rper. I'm open to pretty much any scenario and gender pairings, if you have an idea you've been dying to try, I'm open to it! I'm especially open to rps involving the diaper dimension or any sort of humiliation/domestication centred rps with reverse potty training.
  8. Introduction Nestled in a forested and remote part of Pennsylvania, the close-knit community known as Little Haven is more than just a town—it's a unique space where littles and their partners, who often take on the role of caretakers, come together and live. This extraordinary community is exclusively populated by individuals who actively engage in the ABDL (Adult Baby Diaper Lover) lifestyle or simply love the sight of happy faces freely being themselves and enjoying what they love. Despite its secluded location, Little Haven has tons of amenities that make it so residents don't have any reason to leave town once they arrive. Some of these amenities include trails and parks, as well as its own adult daycare and schooling system tailored specifically for adult littles or adults looking to further their education. Adding to its charm, Little Haven features a grocery store, inviting spots for littles to hang out, and a couple of places to grab a bite or drink. What truly sets this town apart though is its adoption center, a unique institution facilitating the integration of new residents into the fabric of this secluded society. This exceptional community was created by a wealthy founder—a media mogul turned semi-retired and cheerful mayor. Generously, the mayor directly covers a significant portion of the town's expenses. This financial support is complemented by a constant influx of development and investment from new residents eager to lead a unique kind of life. Many of these residents contribute to the town's prosperity by working remotely or at local offices and factories, producing a variety of ABDL and Little supplies. They supply the community and the rest of the world with products such as adult diapers, pacifiers, little clothing in many sizes, adult baby furniture, and educational resources for the community. It is because of all this that the town is able to survive and thrive in the 21st century, allowing adults all over the world to come and participate in what makes them truly happy. This is little haven.
  9. Hii im Rebecca 29 yrs im hoping to one day find a Mommy who will take care of me as her own
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