Search the Community

The potty monster by diaperpailarkham

Hey guys and girls, I've just recently moved to the area and I'm looking for Abdl/dl friends I'm 27 male amd recently moved to thurgoona :)

"What are you wearing?!" she asked, or more demanded. She glared at Alex up and down. "I um..." Alex blushed and looked away. "I don't know..." "Answer my question. What. Are. You. Wearing?" Alex blushed deeper. "My normal clothes." She faked surprise. "Those are your normal clothes? Look at me." Alex glanced up to meet her eyes and nodded. "Yes, they are." "Oh really? Doesn't seem like they should to me. What kind of underwear are you wearing?" "What?!" She looked at him sternly. "What kind of underwear are you wearing?" She repeated. "Boxers." "Oh? So you aren't wearing pretty pink panties? Or a diaper? Or anything like that?" Alex blushed at the question. "No!" he said. "Why not? And where is your collar?" "I... ummm," he looked down. "I don't know." Normally, the answer should be easy. Why should he, a grown adult man, wear anything like that? Here, however, it was different "Mhmm. Just as I thought. And what else are you wearing?" "I'm wearing boxers, jeans, a blue t shirt, and running shoes." "And what the fuck are you wearing that here?" "I... I don't know." The question may have seemed strange in any other location. He was wearing his normal clothes, the clothes he would normally wear in any normal event. However, this wasn't a normal event at all, at least until a few weeks prior. This was more emphasized by woman asking him the questions. She wasn't dressed in anything that might be seen as "normal" elsewhere, but here she fit in perfectly. Her tight black pleather corset, thigh shorts over fishnet stockings and knee high heeled boots, and long black rod in her hands all matched the dark room he stood in. Alex glanced nervously around at the dog cage, wooden X cross, and waist high stocks that filled the room among similar, equally frightening implements, and wondered which he may end up in if he wasn't careful. The only thing not matching stood at the far end of the room. It was a large camera, facing toward a bare corner with a mirror, and attached to a computer at a desk. Though it was perhaps the most "normal" part of the room, it was the part that made him blush the most, especially knowing it was there for him. She glared at him again. "Take them off. Now." Alex gulped and obeyed. He reached for the bottom of his shirt and lifted it slowly over his head. He then looked at her. "And?" she asked. He reached down for his belt buckle and slowly began undoing it. She let out an annoyed sigh. "Alright, let me do it." She walked up to him, and pushed his hands away. She then undid it herself and forced his pants down, leaving him in just his boxers with his pants in a pool around his ankled. WHACK Alex gasped as the strap hit him across the thighs, taking him by surprise. "I don't want to see you dressed like this here again. Is that understood?" She hit him again, and he gasped. "YES! I'm sorry, I won't AAA!"" he stopped as she hit him. "What made you think you could dress like that here, knowing what you were coming for? And you didn't even bring a change of clothes? Are you that stupid?" "I just, I uhh... You didn't specify." "What?" "You didn't specify, so I dressed as I normally would," He explained. It was partially true. The reality was, being new at this game, he was still nervous about it. Her not specifying was a solid excuse to avoid a long bus ride worrying about a bag full of embarrassing clothes. WHACK! She hit him harder then before, and he yelped loudly. "So its MY fault?" She hit him again. "No! I just didn't know!" She reached for his underwear, and with one hard tug, tore it off. She then took the scraps and shoved them into his mouth. "So you couldn't figure it out? Is that what you're telling me? That you're too much of a dumb little sub to even figure that out?" "Mmph," he said, unsure if he should talk. She whacked him again. "Answer!" He yelped and reach his hands to his thighs, and felt tears forming in his eyes. "Yes!" He said. The sound came out muffled, but she seemed to understand. "Then say it. And take those naughty boxers out of your mouth to answer so I can hear it clearly, then replace them." Alex sighed. A week ago, that question would have meant nothing to him. A year, what he was doing wouldn't even have crossed his mind. However, things had changed. Or more, they hadn't at all. Not long ago, he had been working a stable job with a solid income, and had no issues affording what he needed. Now, he worked the same stable job with the same income. The problem is everything ELSE had changed: mortgage, gas, groceries, everything cost more and more, and the same salary felt like less and less. So, he had to make a decision. He could reduce his spending, penny pinch, thrift, live off of KD and baloney... or he could turn to his other talents to make extra money. After too many bills and too many weeks of issues, he settled on the latter. And now, because of it, he had to answer a ridiculously embarrassing question for someone he barely knew. "I dressed this way because I'm too much of a dumb little sub to even figure that out," he replied. "Oh? And what else?" He sighed. "I am a dumb, helpless subby, too stupid to think of things myself, and who needs someone to think for me. I am too stupid to take care of myself and should obey smarter people like you." "What people like who?" "Smarter people like you." "Undies back in your mouth, now." He obeyed, and shoved them inside. "Good boy," she said, making him blush even deeper. "Then lets get you dressed appropriately, and since I am the smart one who gets to make decisions, I'm going to decide, ok?" He nodded, and let out a muffled noise that stemmed from "Yes mistress." "Good boy. Now, lets hurry, the cameras are rolling." Alex sighed. Even that one phrase- "good boy," was something that shook him. He didn't know what he was more embarrassed about- how much he hated it, or how much he enjoyed it. She took him by the hand and helped him out of the jeans and shoes. She then led him to the centre of the room and pointed her rod at a mat, and hey lay down. She left, and returned with his clothes. Alex sighed when he saw it, but nodded. First up was a bright pink diaper. "Lift your butt," She said, and he obeyed. She lay the plastic garment underneath him, spread powder liberally into it, then taped it on snugly. "Feet up," She commanded. She grabbed each of his feet and pulled knee high stockings onto them, then followed them with high heeled shoes. "Good boy. Now, stand up." She reached down and dragged him up. Alex wobbled in his heeled shoes. He was more used to them then most men, but he still had issues with balance. "Good boy. Here I'd have thought you'd have mastered the heels by now," She smiled. "Now, arms up." Alex sighed again, and put his hands in the air. She reached up over him and pulled a light pink dress over his shoulders and down to the bare top of his thighs, leaving plenty of skin, as well as the bottom of his diaper, exposed. She patted him on the bottom. "Good boy, what a good, dumb little sissy sub. You are going to look so cute for my cameras." Alex blushed and looked down. "Thank you mistress," he mumbled from behind his ruined boxer. "And finally, since this isn't a drag show, but a BDSM one," she grabbed each of his hands and put them behind his back. He heard a clink, and she backed away. Alex's hands struggled, but he found they were securely locked in handcuffs. The dominatrix walked around to the front of him, holding the coup de grace- a pink leather collar, with two parts held together by a golden heart, and a long leash attached. She looked him in the eye. "You having second thoughts, or are you ready? Isn't this what you said you wanted? "The best possible advertisement," you said?" Alex met her eyes and nodded. She reached to his neck and clipped on the collar. She looked him up and down, admiring her work. "Good boy. What a good, dumb little pampered sub, ready to please his mistress. You want to see how you look?" He shook his head. "Too bad, you are going to anyway." She pulled him through the dungeon to a mirror and pointed at it. He cringed at what he saw. Himself, bound and tied, wearing the most humbling clothes the professional dominatrix had in her arsenal. Each step- from his high socks, to the printed diaper, to the pretty dress strong over his broad, masculine shoulders, to the collar on his neck, all made him blush deeper. "Are you ready for your add?" she asked. Alex sighed again. Think about the money, he told himself. Its all for the money. It was all for the money of course. The thing was going from writing for fun to writing for money meant sacrifices on topic matter. He nodded. She took the underwear out of his mouth and turned him to face the camera. Think of the money, he said again. She smiled at him. "One more thing for your outfit." She walked back into the dungeon, and returned with a silver crown. She placed it lightly on his head. "Do you feel like a princess, little sissy sub?" "I don't think princesses normally need to do this sort of thing for money," he replied. She laughed, and walked behind the camera. Some lights turned on, and she cued him to speak. He gulped. Think of the money, Think of the money, "Hello. This is ABAlex speaking. I am an online kink writer who does short stories and longer works for pay. I'll write BDSM, ABDL, sissy, or anything else you want, as long as anything dirty is solely with adults. I'm here to tell you my patreon and commission pages are now open." He kept his smile on through the small speech, and held it afterward. The camera was still on. He glanced behind it, at the woman sitting cross legged facing him. "Good boy," she said. The smile became harder to force as she took out a handful of bills and started ruffling through them. "Now, what else do you think you'd do for money?" she tossed some bills in front of him. Alex looked watched them fall. It was already more then he expected to make for the add. What would she want? He kept his smile on through the small speech, and held it afterward. The camera was still on. He glanced behind it, at the woman sitting cross legged facing him. "Good boy," she said. The smile became harder to force as she took out a handful of bills and started ruffling through them. "So what exactly would you do for money?" she tossed some bills in front of him. Alex looked watched them fall. It was already more then he expected to make for the add. What would she want?

A/N: I know, I’ve posted again!! I’m currently sick with Bronchitis and have nothing better to do than write all day (just kidding, I could do all my missing college work) but I prefer to write this!! It’s a six part story, already fully written so I’ll post two parts together every few days! I am also still working on my other story: Babydola so if you haven’t read that, go check it out!! Enjoy for now! Synopsis: At the House of Strange Entities, nothing is normal, even seemingly lonely old Mrs. Fox. If only Clara had realized that sooner… ooOoo Part 1: The Arrival The House of Strange Entities was a very strange place indeed. The young woman had stopped for a bathroom break, spotting an exit sign for the pink one-story building a few miles back traveling down interstate-145. Filled with miscellaneous objects, each room was a different discovery yet there was one common denominator: vintage Everyone had their interests and Clara was the last to judge but there was just something… off. Though in the beginning, She hadn’t been able to put her finger on it. Now, she wished she had. But it was too late. The owner of the museum, Mrs. Fox seemed surprised when the blonde appeared. She said they didn’t get many visitors. “Yes, well I thought it best to use the bathroom,” Clara’s cheeks flushed pink. “I’ve still got another few hours to drive.” “Where are you headed? I can tell you're not from around here.” Her voice was delicate and soft, reminding the nineteen year old of her grandmother. She must have been in her mid sixties, possibly even early seventies from the wrinkles just beginning to show on her aging skin and salt and peppered hair. Dressed in a yellow floral print knee length dress, white cardigan and a string of pearls around her neck, the older woman certainly did have style. Clara knew the importance of stranger safety but this woman didn’t seem capable of hurting a fly much less a five foot four, one-hundred twenty pound girl. “I’m from Massachusetts, actually. My cousin’s getting married in the Finger Lakes Region.” she admitted. “Oh, that’s wonderful!” the woman exclaimed. “I lived up there for many years. What a beautiful place. I must say though, you seem awfully young to be traveling this far on your own…” “Well, I'm nineteen,” the young girl shrugged. “My family wanted to come up earlier and I was still finishing my college exams. I’m joining them now though.” “Hmm…” the woman smiled, eyes glued to her face. She gulped, shifting back and forth on her feet, unsure how to respond. It was the same as when she met someone and they said, “oh I knew you as a baby!” Like oh! Ok! That’s Interesting? Wearing a sundress she wasn’t cold but her arms wrapped around herself, feeling the slightest chill despite the humid air. Brushing it off, she turned back to peer out the window, her car parked right out front. The sun was lower than before, she noticed and if Clara was going to make the trip before sundown, she’d have to leave soon. “Oh, do you have to leave? I was going to offer you a tour!” “A tour?” She said turning back, head cocked to the side. “Yes! I’ve got quite the collection of old items around here. Antique rooms from way back when. I usually charge a small fee but I’ll show you for free!” Her lips pursed, unsure whether to take up the offer. Instead, she apologized, “I’m sorry, it’s just that it’s going to start getting dark soon and-“ “Oh, it’s just a straight drive pretty much from here,” the woman waved her hand like it was nothing. “Where are you going, Ithaca? Geneva? It’s a Wednesday afternoon, there’ll be hardly any traffic. Stay for a bit longer, it’s only a few rooms. Besides, it’s nice to have company. Not many people come around.” Ok, now she just felt guilty. The woman seemed genuine and Clara would hate it if her own grandma hardly had any company like this. She’d want someone to stay for her. Sighing, reluctantly, she agreed knowing how much one small act could mean to another. A half hour couldn’t kill and then she could get back on the road. “Oh this is just splendid! You won’t regret this, trust me!” She hoped not. Walking behind, Clara couldn’t help but shiver at the breeze that followed. ooOoo Part 2: The Cooking Station She’d lead her through another door, entering a 1950s style kitchen. While black and white tiles lined the ground, the cabinets were a striking pop of turquoise blue compared to the brightly colored red table. Staring in surprise, It’s like she’d taken a step back in time. “Welcome to the cooking station, dear. It’s not just any regular old kitchen.” Oh she could see that. Lined on the table were an antique china set of plates, priceless just buy the look of them while the cabinets were full of unrecognizable gadgets she could not name for the life of her. There were little place cards , she didn’t bother to read, gazing around the room in great interest. “I was always quite the collector and I knew, even way back then, that these items may be of value some day,” the woman explained, standing by the stove, mixing something in a steaming pot. Had that been on this entire time? Clara tried to look closer only for the woman to shoo her away. “Each room is interactive, you know. You go through it as if you are a part of it! Sit down dear, you’re too skinny. This’ll be sure help!” Cracking a smile, Clara couldn’t help but obey. Settling down at the table, undoing the lacy cloth in her lap, she was hungry now that she came to think of it. Being the broke college student she was as well, never would she deny free food. “So this is part of the experience?” “Oh, yes,” Mrs. Fox replied as she scooped out what looked to be mash potatoes into a bowl and poured a glass of steaming milk. Setting down the dishes, Mrs.Fox sat across with none for herself but staring with a questioning glance, she felt it best not to ask. “Everyone once in a while a larger group will come and I’ll have many more dishes. People have always loved to fantasize about the past so I thought why not bring it to them in a different way!” It was smart, the young girl had to admit as she took a spoonful from the small dish. “What you’re eating there is Morning Glory Mash. It was a common dish back in the day. My mama used to feed it to me and I bet if you ask your mama, she’d know exactly what you’re talking about. The black bits in there are the seeds and give great nutritious value. Great for getting your tummy grumbling as well when you need to go number two.” Ewww. The young girl grimaced slightly, not wanting to think about taking a shit. However, at the woman’s hopeful glance, she continued to eat, forgetting about it. She could defiantly taste the seeds, biting into them. They had a certain bitterness that canceled out nicely the saltiness of the potatoes. It only took a few moments to finish as she ate bite after bite until the bowl was empty. She’d have to remember to ask her parents about this. “The milk now has just a touch of sugar,” the woman said, pointing at the glass. “It’s another staple with any meal or if you have an upset stomach.” Clara didn’t think much of it, gulping down the creamy sweet deliciousness until the last few drops and her stomach was full and bloated. “Good?” The woman smiled, nodding toward the empty dishes. “You’re a great cook!” she said, patting the cloth to the corners of her mouth. “It’s almost as if people get to physically taste the past! It’s a nice change from the normal history museums, just looking through a glass case-” “Yes, well food is the key to anyone’s heart!” They both let out a laugh, knowing oh how true that was. “Shall we move onto the next room? I think you’ll find each one a little different.” Without a thought she agreed, following behind the shuffling woman in absolute naivety. Ignoring her previous reservations, Clara realized she had been silly. There was no danger here. OoOoo A/N: Thanks for reading! Two more parts will come in a few days (or if I decide just to post early) I love reviews also so please tell me what your thoughts are! I’d love to hear them!!

Fidgeting anxiously in the café Amelia couldn’t stop herself from checking the clock every few moments, Irritated that only 15 minutes have passed when it felt like 15 years. To focused on the time she barely notices when the waitress walks up “just yourself today Hun” pulling out a pen and paper for her order. “I’m waiting on someone actually” looking down to avoid eye contact she sheepishly says “could I have small coffee please” she’s never been good with strangers “ of course coming right up” the waitress replies smiling before turning away. Amelia’s eyes once again dart back to the clock with 10 minutes to go, almost squirming uncontrollably “I can’t believe I’m doing this” she murmurs under her breath waiting for the elusive C an older woman she has been chatting on fetlife for the last several weeks. They seem to click on every level spending hours upon hours discussing everything from books to their home life. They decided to wait on a meeting up or giving names, both having been burned heavily in past relationships due to their interests but neither wished to discuss it just yet. Arriving with her coffee the waitress leaves it on the table and heads back up front, suddenly the café door opens up and Amelia hears her say “oh she’s in the back waiting” Amelia straightened up her anxiety going through the rood as she hears the footsteps growing closer until finally. “Hello are you A?” Her voice sounds incredibly familiar to Amelia as she stands and turns, but freezes at the sight of C instantly recognizing her. “Oh no oh no” is all she can say her mind racing “this can’t be happening” standing before her is Claire Parker her old middle school teacher. Not just any teacher, her favorite teacher. The one who was there to comfort Amelia when her best friend pretended she didn’t exist in the cafeteria, the one who helped wipe away the tears when bullies wouldn’t leave her alone calling her “anchor Amy” because of her size. Miss Parker was also the one who encouraged her to follow her passion for music and to be honest the one when had an enormous crush on. She was a huge influence on young Amelia, but suddenly one day she just quit, no word or warning she just vanished. Leaving Amelia devastated. But now over 6 years later they’re once again face to face, she should be overjoyed at the reunion but all Amelia can think about is the fact that she has told Miss Parker everything. Literally every dirty fantasy and kink has been unknowingly discussed with her former teacher; shaking uncontrollably the only thing that stops her from fleeing is 9Miss Parkers reaction. “AMEILIA!!!” she exclaims pulling the startled girl into a warm embrace “now this is a happy coincidence isn’t it” her voice giddy with excitement “it’s been what? 6 years? Look how you’ve grown” looking her up and down Miss Parker gets a good look at her former pupil her smile growing “you filled out in all the right places” Amelia’s face flashes crimson at the compliment, looking down at her thick frame she doesn’t quite get what Ms Parker is seeing “t..th..thank you Miss Parker” is all she can spit out “Oh I think we’re far past calling me Miss don’t you?” her kind demeanor making Amelia fill more at ease “ why don’t you try calling me Claire?” she says as she settles down into the booth. Settling down herself she takes a deep breath to steady her nerves “this isn’t weird for you? I mean you use to be my teacher” says Amelia quietly, her eyes darting back and forth ensuring the coast is clear “I haven’t been your teacher in a long time sweetie, were both adults who know what they are getting into” Claire keeps a close eye on her not looking away for a moment “and besides I think we’d both rather I be your Mommy anyway” she says it so casually it causes Amelia to blush even harder. “but why don’t we forget all that for now” reaching across the table Claire puts a hand on her arm “I’d love for us just to catch up and chat, just treat this like a regular old date, no pressure or expectations. How does that sound?” Thinking of this as a normal date did help alleviate some of Amelia’s anxiety about the situation, I mean at the least this isn’t some stranger just trying to seduce her or anything, it was Miss Parker one of the kindest people she has ever known “I guess that could work” a smile beginning to spread across her face as she begins to relax. And so began their first official ‘date’ it was awkward at first with Amelia stumbling to find her words but soon they were both chatting up a storm talking for hours in the quiet little booth about everything they could think off . It all flowed just so naturally as if they were friends for years. It was the best date either of them had in quite a while. One thing became very evident to Amelia throughout the evening and that is that she was still totally infatuated with her former teacher hanging onto her every word neither of them realizing just how long they’ve been talking until Amelia asks the question that has plagued her for years “Why did you leave the way you did” Claire grimaces, the old memory still causing a sting even now “well you see sweetie back then I was in a relationship that had slowly become toxic. We were bad for each other but neither of us could admit it. In the end I broke things off with her” she pauses staring down at her coffee “she….didn’t take it well” Amelia’s can see her eyes start to glisten and says “you don’t have to tell me if it’s too painful I understand” the last thing she wants is to drudge up old hurts. “No…no it’s ok you of all people deserve an answer” breathing in deep she exhales “my former little ousted me to everyone, she told the school board and all the parents the nature of our relationship and they freaked” Amelia’s eyes grow wide with disbelief. How could anyone do such a cruel vindictive thing to Claire, she was always the kindest and most compassionate out of all the teachers at school. “They gave me the choice to resign with some dignity or be fired” looking down to avoid eye contact she says “I’m so very sorry for never saying goodbye but they wouldn’t let me” a moment of pure silence follows as Claire continues to stare at her coffee. Amelia had never seen the usually confident Miss Parker seem so vulnerable. Shaking her head she looks up at Amelia “but that’s all in the past now” reaching over the table she takes Amelia’s Hand “I’d much rather look to the future” she squeezes a little “and I hope you can be a part of it as my little” Amelia’s entire body once against turns scarlet almost forgetting why they were there in the first place. The thought of loosing Miss Parker again is too much to bear; she squeezes Claire’s hand just as hard before replying “I think I’d like that very much” “You have no idea how happy I am to hear you say that” says Claire still holding Amelia’s Hand tightly “there’s no rush we can take this as fast or slow as you want ok baby girl” gazing deep into Amelia’s eyes she leans forward over the table their lips just barely touching before she pulls away “I’ll keep you safe, I’ll take care of you, I promise” Amelia’s brain short circuits as their lips meet, she must have day dreamed about doing that a million times back in school but the reality of it is much more satisfying then in fantasy. Her attempts to speak fail miserably, unable to find the right words. Burying her face in her hands incredibly flustered she can only murmur “oh my God that just happened “much to the amusement of her older companion. Mustering the strength of will to lift her head she finally asks “do you mean it…..that you’ll keep me safe? ….. That you’ll take care of me?” Her face instantly serious without a shred of doubt in her voice Claire replies “Always Amelia no matter what we do I’ll be there with you every step of the way” softening her features “you’re going to be my little girl after all” Seeing Claries conviction she relaxes, a state of calm she rarely enjoys. The ideas of being someone’s baby girl making her feel so at ease it’s shocking. Feeling 10 years younger she slips into a headspace she’s not quite familiar expressing in front of others. Having spent her teen years being the good girl, the honour roll student, the constant pressure by her parents to succeed. Heck she has never even had a detention. With a coy smile she leans over and giggles “but what if your baby girl likes being a brat” she teases twirling her honey blonde hair around her finger enjoying being able to show this side of herself to someone “I mean I can be a lot to handle” “Oh is that so” purrs Claire her voice sweeter then honey “well there isn’t a brat born who myself and Miss Hairbrush can’t handle” reaching into her purse she pulls out a solid oak paddle brush placing it in front of Amelia. Biting her lip Amelia’s eyes lock onto the brush, so many deep seated fantasies of being helpless over someone’s knee while they roast her bottom flashing through her mind, squeezing her legs together in need hoping Claire doesn’t notice. Feeling like a bratty teen now more than ever she defiantly proclaims “is that all?” dismissing the brush entirely “you’ve met your match Miss Parker” sticking her tongue out at her former mentor impudently. Leaning to the side Claire raises her hand almost shouting “Check Please!” Sitting in Claries SUV outside her home Amelia’s heart is beating like a drum, she is made to sit in the back on the drive because “little girls are safer back there”. Sticking true to her role Amelia whined “but I wanna sit up front” But was quickly silenced by Claire’s steely glare. Stepping out onto the asphalt the young woman can’t help but stare in awe at the big house, so entranced she doesn’t notice Claire coming up beside her “sweetie there’s something important we need to discuss” Turning around to look up the tall brunette is staring down at her. She can’t help but blush “If anything gets to be too overwhelming or to difficult you just have to say cantaloupe and well stop ok” reaching up she brushes some of amelias hair behind her ears before leaning to whisper “otherwise the second you walk in that door you’ll be nothing but a naughty brat in need of some firm discipline, is that clear” her demeanour changing rapidly, now strict and demanding causing a shiver to run down Amelia’s spine, nodding her head unable to articulate a response Claire gently grasps her hand leading her up the stairs. inside the house is immaculate and well furnished but the awestruck girl has no time to process when she hears “Amelia Jacobs you are in so much trouble” spinning around to see Miss Parker with her hands firmly on her hips stern look across her face. “I can’t believe a girl your age would act like such an incorrigible brat in public” with hands faster then they eye can see she grabs Amelia by the ear much to her dismay“and I know just how to deal with bratty little girls”. Stinging like hell with little choice but to lean forward awkwardly as the older woman leads her into the living room squealing along the way “hey let me go you can’t do this I’m not some little kid” trying her best to sound angry instead of deeply excited being lead to her fate. Ignoring her pleas Claire drags her to the living room before pushing her front and center, where with the same steely gaze as before she orders “Strip!” Amelia’s heart is pounding in her ears, it’s been many years since her last high school gym class, and even then she changed in the stalls insecure about her body. Panicking a little she debates using her safe word until she sees Claries face staring at hermit was a look of pure desire, of hunger and want. No one had ever looked at her that way before, like she was something desirable. Shaking her head meekly she squeaks “n-no I w-wont” stuttering while staring at her feet to hide her excitement. Feeling a hand under her chin her head rises to meet Claire’s gaze “you can do it or I can do it little one your choice” Oh god the thought of Claire stripping her down is almost too much to bear. Gulping down her apprehension and with shaky hands she slips her thumbs into her yoga pants slowly dragging them to the floor hoping that’s the end of it “Shirt to” says Claire leaving no room for argument Hands still shaking lifting her sweater over her head before dropping to cover her voluptuous body, she can feel Claire’s eyes scanning every inch of her until they rest on her wiggly bottom framed perfectly by a lacy pink thong “tsk tsk tsk” is all that comes out “Those panties are unacceptable for a girl your age Amy” taking the waistband of her panties giving it a snap against her waist “we will definitely be making some changes to your underwear drawer” without further warning she gives Amelia a spank on her unprotected bottom “in the corner now little girl” Amelia quickly buries her head into the corner having never felt so exposed while Claire can only stare at her bottom “in 20 minutes I’ll be back and I won’t be empty handed” her hand making its way to her bottom giving it gentle rub before leaving. So here was Amelia, half naked, exposed and having never felt so helpless in her entire life, yet she couldn’t have been more excited.

Short Story Five seconds… Eyes wide, she shook her head, desperately pleading with the clock to speed up or to break or miraculously just disappear. Four… Tears burst from her eyes, dribbling down her cheeks mixed in with her running snot. It was supposed to be right this time, she was supposed to be free! She was a big girl! Really she was! If only she could just convince her. Now, crawling around the room, her bum wiggling in the air, she was aware of how ridiculous she looked. Hell, she was practically humping the carpet. Libby didn’t think she was going to make it. The potty sat over there against the wall- pink and sparkly and locked up with the stupid chain. Three seconds now. Her face crumpled, unable to stop the flow of tears as she pleaded to whatever God up there not to let her fail. If she could hold it just a few more seconds then this would all be over. But Libby already knew it was too late. Having held it in since lunch, she drank from her bottle every hour like a good girl, gaining hundreds of streamers and bringing in the money acting like the little baby everyone wanted her to be. Three months, she had been stuck here in this oversized nursery fit for an adult sized baby. Sickeningly pink and filled to the brim with frilly outfits and dolls and toys, it would be an actual child’s dream room. However for her, it had quickly become a never-ending nightmare. Back in October, she’d seen the beautiful woman at the bar and Libby had been the hooker, just looking for an extra buck or two. Libby had spotted her a mile away, flashing her Cartier watch nursing a glass of red wine. Lean body, olive skin, and dark cascading hair… everything about her screamed money! Italian! At the time, she’d thought it strange how such a beautiful woman could be so alone. But that’s exactly what she’d been hoping for and Libby was been stupid enough to fall for her trap. Absolutely smashed off her face that night, easily she went home with her. They had sex, she demanded the money - which she almost got - but then she didn’t. With her panties on the ground, kneeling over her on all fours, the woman hadn’t even felt her bladder loosen until a warm pool of liquid had formed beneath the two of them. Surprisingly the woman wasn’t mad and that’s what confused her. Her comforter was probably worth hundreds by the looks of it. Libby told her to keep the money for the mess she’d caused, eager to get away, but the woman had had a different proposal- one, if she’d been in her right mind - would have turned down. Heck, she didn’t even know her name… and still didn’t. Now, staring at the timer, with one second left, it was all over. The floodgate opened. Starting with a few tiny dribbles, it just became heavier until she couldn’t even attempt to hold it in. She was so close! The timer went off and the camera blinked red, the invisible audience watching in silent anticipation. They could see her but she could not see them. Libby had become all too used to the feel of her hot piss splashing and filling up the absorbent padding. Squatting with her legs spread at the camera, it not only gave the best view to the viewers but was the most comfortable. This way it wouldn’t splash up her back or leak from the sides. It was embarrassing she even knew that but if she wanted to stay sane, the girl had to do whatever she could to survive. Now, hanging her head in shame, the sudden flood of dings throughout the room was music to her ears. It was the sound of money rolling in. People paying to see her debased and humiliated like this. Everyday there were different requests that people would pay hundreds, sometimes even thousands to see her do. If she was able to follow through, that meant treats were in order. However some tasks were meant to be impossible yet that didn’t mean she still didn’t try. Mommy promised once she paid back her debt for peeing in her bed and was able to go a whole day without wetting and messing her diaper, they could talk about letting her go. The girl welcomed the money and the embarrassment if it meant freedom in the end. But of course, once again, she’d failed. Libby knew though that she had, stupidly and drunkenly, agreed to this on her own free will. Who was she to complain? ooOoo “Muffin top, were you a good girl for Mommy and all of her friends?” It wasn’t even a moment later she heard the jingling of keys and the beeps of the code on the other side of the door. Mommy was always watching and waiting and ready to step in at every moment. She was a famous live-streamer, Libby had come to find out, and popular in the fetish world- was that even the right term to use? “Mommy!” She whined in a light and airy tone. Her voice had taken on a new timbre, becoming delicate, weak, young. She’d perfected the voice so much, always talking in it, she wasn’t even sure if she could go back to her old one. There were eyes and ears everywhere and she could not afford to break the role or else Mommy would tan her hide faster than she can blink. Lifting her arms, smiling painfully bright, she’d mastered just what the woman wanted and if she wanted to get out of this soaked diaper, she’d act her damn ass off. “Mommy wet!” She squealed. Popping the pink sparkly paci into her mouth from off the ground, suckling obediently, she didn’t fight the intruding fingers poking down the back and sides of her diaper. “Oh, yes you are! Was my little cupcake not able to hold her pee pee for the potty? You know you get potty time every several hours. You aren’t supposed to actually use your diapees, silly!” She bopped her on the nose. Her face burned red, stomach churning in humiliation at this beautiful woman dressed in a skin tight black dress and perfectly curled hair. Blue eyes sparkling in amusement, she knew exactly what she was thinking. Why would any beautiful woman like her go for a naked diapered adult baby who couldn't even hold in her own pee? Mommy called her Muffin Top because her belly was like a, well, muffin top, pooling over. It grew bigger everyday as did her thighs grow in thickness and face turn round. She used to be skinny. She used to have a body to kill for that any woman would chase after. Now? She was just her mommy’s little Muffin Top. What good would that get her in life? She couldn’t help the tears, as they started up once again and Mommy loved the tears. “Oh, baby,” she cooed, lifting her from the soft carpet cradled in her arms. Her hand cupped her bottom, every squeeze emitting a loud and wet squelch. “Mommy knows how hard it is trying to be a big girl but some people are meant to be little. Some people are meant to use their diapees and wait for their mommy for changes. Isn’t that right, baby?” “No!” She whined. “Big giwl! I, a big giwl!” With her face pressed against her large soft bosoms, in all honesty, she didn’t feel very big at the moment. Throwing a tantrum would get plenty of money from those watching (everyone loved a brat) but that’s not what she thought about. Turning and tossing her head, blonde pigtails swinging every way, Mommy could only giggle, watching the over-grown child prove her points exactly. Slapping her tender thigh, admiring the jiggle, immediately that caught the attention of the Little. Cringing at the painful sting, only then did she quiet down. “Answer me this baby.” She enquired. “Do big girls have tantrums? Do they wet themselves in a diaper? Do they crawl around naked suckling on a binky?” It was all rhetorical and the diapered girl had no rational response. “Since the baby has proven she’s too little to wait for the potty, I think it’s best she stays in diapers for the time being.” The only reason Libby could never hold in her pee pee was that she was always loaded up on bottles and mommy liked to change potty time and make her squirm. There were always some obstacles designed for her to fail. It just wasn’t fair! While she’d stupidly agreed to this, she felt herself begin to slip more and more everyday, forgetting that she’s not actually a baby. It was all pretend. Fake. She was an adult. Twenty-eight years old. College graduate. She did not need a stuffed elephant to help her fall asleep and she did not enjoy suckling on her strawberry flavored paci or getting dressed in pretty clothes with matching dolls with matching diapers. Don’t even get her started on the lack of control, putting on a show like a circus animal for thousands of internet people! “There’s no need for tears, sweetie.” A hand patted her back, bouncing her up and down. She suckled, quickly and rhymically taking too much comfort in the silicone object. “Now, you’ve gone tinkle but no stinkys! No diaper change is set without number one and number two, and by the size of your big belly,” she couldn’t help but jiggle her milk-filled pouch, “someone’s got a big poo to get out! Can you do that for mommy?” Did she even have a choice? The girl could only blink with tired eyes, her stomach actually feeling familiarly hard. “User Sissyboy and User Twinkletoes have bet five hundred dollars that little Libby can’t handle three enemas! Let’s see whose right, hmm? Can you go poo poo for mommy? For the streamers? Be a good girl, oh yes you can! You’re mommy’s stinky girl!” Placed on the changing table, her legs kicked out spastically. Involuntary laughter burst from her chest - high pitched giggles - as strawberries were blown on her pudgy tummy and Libby knew, at this rate she’d never be out of diapers. OoOoo A/N: I just thought I would post a short story in the meantime between writing the other stories. I know I’m so slow with updating so I just wanted to give a little something extra

I am wishing to hang out with anyone who lives either in Oak Creek or South Milwaukee just to be little and get away from my house