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  1. This will be short because it’s my first upload and I just want to see how it goes, just the first part of the intro and I am curious what kind of feedback I will get. I have been trying to get better as an author, ideally so I don't have to spend so much time editing. I am new at writing, but a long-time reader and I have been writing since last summer. This story is a companion book to my actual book. Characters overlap, and this was an exercise to practice writing while a figured some characters out. Somethings I thought might be helpful. I am very fascinated by the Big & little dynamic. I find the concept of head space fascinating and that's what began my writing. There are other things I care about: processing trauma, healing from it, something as simple as being held and being told everything is going to be OK, and lastly, finding happiness in a world where bad things sometimes happen. I have mixed some things in to add to the world building that I think some of you might like. There is something about littles that is hard to articulate. In the way their faces light up when they smile, and the joy they bring with them wherever they go. You can see this in the way they play and laugh, in their naive and gullible natures, in their contentment with simple things. Whatever it is that makes littles so unique would be close to their purity of spirit. Adults have lost that purity, that innocence. And children will eventually lose theirs too, becoming adulterated by simply living in a broken world caused by flawed people. And that is what is so terrible about growing up. Your innocence is taken from you the more you experience life and the world. Perhaps that is what makes little so fascinating. Unlike children they won’t shed that purity, unlike adults they haven’t lost that innocence. That purity of the spirit is preserved for ever. There is a fierceness inside of Bigs and it’s seen through many words we use to describe them; here are some. Words like: “caregiver, protector, provider, and parent”. We sum it up in the words Mommy and Daddy. A name that when cried provokes great fierceness. Will it be hands that reach for you when you’re sad? A fist ready to fight for you? Strong arms to hold and comfort you? A gentle understanding voice that lets you know that everything will be, ok? Or eyes that radiate unending compassion to let you know you are loved? There is also a nobility of character inside of them. A fragility that is willing to risk, suffer, and give of themselves for the thing they care about. Hmm, how fitting is it they got to be the ones to watch over that purity of spirit that remains unchanging in a dark world. (working progress) - SanguineReader Sunny By me Being little is a beautiful thing. This was something Sunny knew. She was of course thinking back to a simpler time, before all the heartache and pain. Back when her family was still together, and things were good and simple. Back when she was not afraid to run to her mommy or daddy when she got scared or sad. They were all ways there for her, quick to pick her up and embrace her in strong loving arms. Back then when they paid attention to her, made her feel special, and loved. There was just nothing like being little back then. Having grown tired playing amongst the flowers, arranged to form a small 6ft tall maze, and spotting a large budding oak tree she carefully looked into the little park; looking this way and that, making sure that she could not be seen she made her way to the tree. Finding a comfortable place beneath the large oak tree to lie down, light beaming down through the branches as she looked up and caught the brilliant blue of the sky above peeking through the leaves. Her eyes had grown heavy as a gentle breeze blew and brought with it the comforting smell of newly budding flowers. Being little was beautiful, she thought one last time. As she fell into a gentle sleep whispering the words, “back then.” v Having grown up her entire life in a world of littles and Bigs, Sunny never paid much attention to those strange adults who were treated like children. She never hated them or thought bad of them. She just knew they were different and needed more care. And since she was not a Big or a little, she had little reason to think about them. Until her triggering when the family found out her dad had been cheating on her mom with a colleague from work when she was thirteen. Things got bad fast. “An honest mistake” he had tried to explain to her mom. But she was not having it. It did not help that his girlfriend demanded that he leave his family and marry her when she found out she was pregnant. Divorce is never fun, especially for a child. Not really understanding at the time, she just knew her mom now hated her dad. There was so much screaming back and forth, meanness, things thrown, crying, grief, depression, and rage. She withdrew within herself and made herself scarce as best as she could. She and her older brother Lucas somehow became forgotten in the battle that ensued. Caught in the middle, she and her brother watched on helplessly as the two people they loved the most in the world ripped each other apart. When at home she stayed out of their way, at school she pretended everything was fine, doing her best to not let her friends or teachers see how sad she was inside. But how could she be fine? She felt like a hostage to her parents, knowing by now to never give the appearance of picking a side. Things would never be like they used to be, she knew, knowing that something tore inside her heart. And, not knowing when a certain gene that had laid dormant deep inside had activated beginning to send new signals and chemicals to her brain. She began to feel this desire, not quite a compulsion but to play with toys meant for younger kids. To want to ask for hugs and kisses, to raise her arms with the expectation that she would be picked up. And though the feelings inside of her grew slowly, small signs began to appear by the time she was fifteen. Her growth had long started to slow, her breasts were underdeveloped, she would have accidents at night every now and then. And though she never told anyone, sometimes during the day too. There were other things of course. Rediscovering old toys in the attic and playing with them when she could. She recovered her old companion Bebe and even an old paci. There was a growing kind of focus that started to form inside of her. an attention span that was not quite normal that usually set in when she played or drew. There were developing changes in her mannerism, a diminishing of emotional fortitude. She found herself isolated from her parents, depressed and alone. If it was not for Lucas, she did not know how she could have made it through those tough times. When the shouts and yells would turn to screaming, and horrible words were said, and when his mother would attack her father trying to provoke him to do something she could use against him; she would always run to her room and hide. Sometimes under the covers, other times in her closet or under her bed. If Lucas was home, he would always come and find her. Lucas was two years older than her and such a sweet and caring brother. Fiercely protective of her, always going out of his way to make her feel loved and special. On one particular night, the fighting had gotten really bad. The night her father chose to leave and never come back, choosing the other woman over her mother, Lucas, and herself. That night she ran to her room and hid in the closet. She kept a secret in there. An adorable purple stuffed giraffe her parents had given her when she was born. Huddling under a blanket she held on to Bebe for dear life. That night, her brother came to find her, looking for her in her room, knowing there were only so many places she could be hiding. Not finding her immediately and checking under the bed and still not finding her. He turned and moved and checked the closet. Seeing her with tears falling from her eyes and seeing Bebe again in her arms; he crawled in under the blanket pulling the door shut behind him. It only took a second to pull Sunny into his arms, wrapping his arms tightly around her as she laid the side of her head on his shoulder. Lucas was tall enough to feel the weight of several dresses on top of him, as he moved her while in his lap to a more comfortable position; leaning and resting against the back wall of the closet. Through the walls the shouting intensified, and the sound of breaking, shattering, and general mayhem as unknown objects had been moved from their places as they had been thrown. And with each new crashing sound, Sunny would tremble or jump, giving Lucas the extra reminder that something in the house was broken and in pieces. “I don’t know how, but I promise that someday everything will get better. None of this is our fault, it’s not your fault Sunny. Mom and dad can’t seem to see us anymore, and I know that hurts. But we have each other, and I love you. I can’t prove it right now, but someday everything will be OK.” With a raised and gentle whisper into her ear. The Heighten screaming began to raise in tempo and tenor, as the sound of hurried bodies made their way to the front of the house. And, moments later a large bang that caused Sunny to Jump in Lucas arms, another signal that something was broken and scattered. Their family; as their father left for good. Lucas tightened his hold on her when she jumped at the sound of the loud bang. And she cried. And cried while he brushed his fingers through her hair and patting her back. Unable to keep the tears at bay any longer, Lucas let his pain flow gently down his cheeks, and then began to sing. In a soft and mournful tone, and with the occasional catch in in his throat; he sang slowly. “You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy, when skies are gray, you'll never know, dear, how much I love you, so please don't take my sunshine away.” He sang a few rounds, holding her, and feeling the warmth of her body grow in his lap. It pained him that his parents could not see them anymore. And the saddest thing of all was they could not see the changes in Sunny. He knew there was nothing he could do for her, he just wished he knew what to do, and he worried for her. He did not want to imagine his sister deteriorating to the point where he had to call little services. He was not completely sure she was regressing or if was a coping mechanism for the stress of all the fighting. He had noticed things for a while, but it was so slow. Speaking softly then Leaning in as he spoke, he kissed her on the head after a short pause. “If we have to be sad Sunny, at least we are together. I love you sunshine, I always will.” “I love you too Lukey.”
  2. Here we will follow Jessica an 8 year old girl in 4th grade. She's smart has a bunch of friends, she's on the short side looks closer to 6 or so. Jessica has a secret she sucks her thumb still even though she always claims what a big girl she is being 8 an a half! No body knows about her secret except for her 4 year old sister Gwen. Jessica lives with her mother Helen and her aforementioned little sister Gwen who is 4 and just became fully potty trained a few months back. Everything is happy and easy going in the house, there is a good balance of no real secrets except for the big secret of Jessica still sucking her thumb but Gwen has promised she'd never tell mommy. But now a New babysitter is coming for the week as mommy needs to go away for a work conference. This new babysitter has plans for little ones who think they are big girls but still do babyish things. I think Jessica is in for an interesting week! I'm open to anyone joining me on this roleplay as long as you bring detail and long replies to each post on this rp. Please shoot me a message or reply on here before starting
  3. All characters are adults, but horribly immature. This is a work of fiction, not necessarily set in the real world. Every time you criticize online fetish erotica for being unrealistic, a fairy gets tax audited. Think of the fairies! I was a little leery of going in to Kelly’s bedroom while she was sleeping. It had been three hours now since I’d finally gotten my baby girl down. Kelly was normally a deep sleeper, but it always took forever to get her to calm down and go to sleep, doubly so when woken in the middle of the night. But I’d forgotten the case of my angel’s diapers in the car, and I knew they needed to be put away before morning. As I stood in the upstairs hallway, I briefly considered just setting the snipped-open bag outside her door, but I didn’t want to leave a single extra thing to deal with in the chaos of getting her ready for daycare. So I turned off the hallway light and carefully turned the doorknob… Kelly’s room was full of pinks and pastels, all illuminated by the nightlight in the corner of the room. The white noise machine was still filling the room with its soft roar from the top of her clothes drawer, while the oil diffuser made its own addition of lilac and vanilla. I looked over to the changing table and was reminded that there was only one disposable left on the shelf, and that I’d carelessly placed the evening’s story book on her changing pad. “Good thing I caught that before morning,” I thought. Being extra careful with the diaper bag’s plastic crinkle, I removed each of the diapers and stacked them neatly on the shelf. I also took a quick survey of her other supplies: Brand new bottle of baby powder, plenty of boosters still, the lotion bottle looked to be about half-full, baby wipes were running a little low, as was Kelly’s special diaper medicine. Her oversized diaper pail probably needed to be emptied soon, but there was no way I could get that done quietly. I’d take care of it tomorrow while Kelly was at daycare. Quickly and quietly, I put the storybook back on the shelf and cleaned up a few errant toys and clothes on the floor. And I was about to sneak out again, when my attention turned to the crib, and the angel sleeping inside. I crept up to the railing and looked down: Below me lied the center of my world. Kelly slept on her side in her Abby Cadabby pajamas, clutching Mr. Blue, her stuffed shark. It had been unseasonably warm the last few nights, and she had kicked off her blankets, her puffy padded butt and the waistband of her diaper plain to see. Her mouth was just slightly open, and a little spot of drool had formed on her pillow. And just a few inches away from her mouth, her nighttime bottle, now empty. Even with her short bob cut, her hair had partially obscured her eyes, but in the dim light I could just make out her eyelids moving. She was dreaming! I stood there a while, watching her body gently rise and fall with her breathing, and thought about how we had gotten here and how long it had taken. I thought about all the visits to the Regression Clinic; all the complicated restraints and cuffs I’d had to use at first; standing next to her while she was tied up with her headphones and goggles, a syringe in one hand, waiting for the computer screen to indicate the right moment to administer her hypnosis medicine (I had to; the Clinic was closed for Covid and I didn’t want to lose any progress); the ridiculous wait list to get her into regression daycare; and all the tantrums, carpet stains, and messy diapers I’d had to deal with. But it was moments like these that made it all worth it. There was just a perfect little creature sleeping peacefully right in front of me, and every time she called me “daddy,” it just made my heart melt. I leaned over the railing and reached down to pick up her empty bottle. As I drew close, I saw her face shift slightly, the rhythm of her breathing change, and through the hiss of the white noise machine, a soft grown escape from her lips. I froze and braced myself, waiting for her to suddenly shoot up and start demanding more stories, more cookies, or another episode of Bluey. But she didn’t wake up. Instead, Kelly shifted her legs slightly, and let a small sigh out. I knew what was happening. I reached down to the seat of her pajamas, and, very gently, placed my hand on her bum. Sure enough, I could feel her padded tush warming up. Whatever silly little girl dream she was having, it looked like it now included making peepees in her nighttime diaper! I smiled down at my adorable little princess. Kelly was so little, so sleepy, so full of milk and juice (and regression meds), and so busy with her dream that she just couldn’t hold it anymore. Of course she couldn’t hold her daytime peepees (or poopies) anymore either, nor was she really trying anymore. But seeing her like this, wetting her diaper in her sleep at night, completely unaware, just made her look more helpless, fragile, and special. Regressing Kelly was the best thing I’d ever done! I was about to sneak out of the room again when I paused. Kelly’s a heavy sleeper, but she’s an even heavier wetter. She had had a second sippy cup of juice at dinner, and it was only a little after 10 now, so she would probably wet again before morning. I always put a booster in Miss Niagra’s diaper for nighttime and naps, but would she still leak? Maybe I should change her now… One last look at my baby angel put an end to that idea. How could I possibly wake my little baby girl now?! I softly closed Kelly’s bedroom door, went back downstairs to put the empty diaper package in the trash, then decided it was time for me to have a few dreams. In the morning I would have to change a very soggy diaper, get her dressed, comb her hair, help her eat her breakfast, and get her into the car and off to daycare, all without a meltdown if I’m lucky. And I still need to order more meds, and empty the diaper bin, and maybe change wet bedsheets. But right now, the universe is perfect. Kelly, my regressed baby girl, is sleeping without a care in the world.
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